#search and recovery

[kira-ani-mcgrath]

"We are the Essentials" Fundraiser

On August 16th, 2023, the non-profit search group "We are the Essentials" found wife and mother Anu Awasthi alive after she had been missing for six days.

Her husband, Vikas, started a fundraiser for the group. The Awasthi family will match donations up to $20,000 USD.

Please consider donating, especially if you or your loved ones live in or near Florida.

You can learn more about the organization on their website:

[haveuseenmyhalo]

Excuse me- I found sumfin…☠️.

[voxyldy]

05.30.2023

[News]

RM of @BTS_twt will be named the ambassador for the Ministry of National Defense Agency for Killed in Action Recovery & Identification! As an ambassador, RM will be actively promoting the government's project to recover the remains of fallen patriots of South Korea. #RM #BTS

Source: The Kpop Herald

[june1960fan]

Searching 4 Newest Dry Suite to search equipment

[witchpussy42069]

Yeah applying for jobs feels dehumanizing. Yeah society is crumbling. Yeah we are all oppressed by the ruling one percenters. Yeah the world is full of cruelty. But you Cannot Stop Me from baking fucking bread with my Beloved Friends. And you can't stop me from drawing flowers. And you can't stop me from moving worms out of the sun back into the dirt in the shade. And you can't stop me from asking for help even when my past experiences have tried to convince me to never do so again. I am STUBBORN and I will CONTINUE LOVING

[nocternalrandomness]

King 81 working the pattern at Riverside

[whumpsoda]

WSFSP - M is for Memory

A third piece for this month’s event Alphabet of Whump by @alphabetofwhump! I really really like this one >:3

Masterlist

cw: memory loss/amnesia, nudity mention (non sexual), pet whumpee, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, past abuse, recovering whumpee

——————

Mutt whined, a croaking sound that churned in his gut. The rain was only getting harder, faster, stinging against the wood and seeping in through the cracks, icy droplets plopping across his reddened skin.

Every inch of him was cold to the touch, with not a single luxury of clothing to provide even the smallest of warmth. The grass below him was pooling with mud, sticky and tainting him as he was balled up in a cage much too tight.

He couldn’t remember exactly what he did to deserve it - the cold and the fear was getting to his head and jumbling his brain all up - but no matter how freezing he was, Mutt was still sure he did indeed deserve it. Even if his leg were not chained and bolted to the wood, he would not have made the attempt to escape his punishment.

Stupid mutts who can’t seem to follow simple directions get the dog house. I thought you would’ve learned that by now, but it seems you’re just too dumb.

Say it, Mutt. Say it until you’ve gotten it permanently burned into your thick skull.

“S- st- stupid…,” his teeth chattered faster than his mouth could handle, tripping around his words and turning them to mush, “m- mutts get- t- t the dog houssse.” The last bit was left slurred and slushy, melting around his tongue. “Stuu- pid-,”

Interrupted by a crashing scream of the sky a wail of his own spilled out, aching in his chill throat. His knees dipped further into his chest, spine tapping the ceiling of his enclosure. It seemed even the outside was eager to discipline him.

Another flash of lightning, cracking close. Fat globs of tears mixed in with the rain, drooling down his cheeks.

Waking up, everything was a blur of darkness. Something flashed, just a swift flicker of light, as his eyesight worked desperately to adjust. Heavy breathing in his ears was found to be coming from his own lungs, quick with disorientation and panic.

It all died down to near silence once the still, blue room settled into sight, save for the creak of the walls and the continuous tapping on the roof. The dresser, the closet, the window, the bunk bed, his stuffed animal, all of it was there. So was Wesley, the only indication of his presence above him being the smallest shift in his sleeping position.

Even through his drowsy haze, the mere fact that Wesley was still nicely sound asleep allowed an easiness to wash through him.

Whatever woke Mutt, - that wasn’t right, but stupid mutts get the dog house - a booming roar rolling over clouds and through the sky, was loud and reverberating in his ears. The noise was terrifyingly familiar, and as soon as he caught a glimpse of the rain soaked window, he was sure what it was.

Making his way down the green soaked hallway, through the darkness he stumbled over his own feet and the blanket draped around his shoulders. Mutt hissed a whimper, curling in on himself as the thunder sounded once more, a chill shaking up his spine.

Stopping, holding himself steady with the wall, he wound his eyelids tight, as if that would block out the bitter noise.

Stupid mutts get the dog house.

Still too tired to clearly think, he didn’t know exactly why he left the room, where exactly he was going, until he got there. Their door was shut, the silence of slumber loud and clear, but he turned the nob anyway.

“Uh. I-,” he blanked, licking his cool lips. He stood at the foot if their bed, a surge of a dizzy daze tugging at the back of his brain. What was he doing? “I’m sorry.”

Oscar groaned at that, weak with confusion as he flipped over in his spot, struggling to locate his glasses on the dresser beside him.

Edith shuffled around in the bed, tied around in blankets, squinting through a wave of drowning drowsiness and an unlit room. “Who…? Graham, dear?” She mumbled, cocking her head.

Yes. That was his name now. Graham. “Y- yeah, yeah.” Giving the slightest of a nod, he directed his gaze to the floor.

“Who’s it…?” Oscar mumbled, face stuffed into the side of his pillow.

Too focused on Graham to answer her husband, Edith propped up her pillow and slumped back against it. “Did… did the rain wake you up?”

“Um, mhm, yes. Edith.” The name came out awkward and unfamiliar. He hoped she wouldn’t notice and get upset with him more than he guessed she already was - he’d clearly been struggling as of late not to call her by any sort title.

She motioned for him, waving him forward as she pulled the covers up to her lap. “You can come over here, sit on the bed if you like.”

Graham took a few slinking steps, shoulders hunched. Furniture was still… new. Uncomfortable. Wrong. Clenching his fist over his blanket, he sipped in a breath before neatly falling to his knees. She looked a bit dissatisfied with that, but didn’t say anything.

“Graham…? What’re you doing here?” Oscar said, finally sitting up beside his wife as he adjusted his glasses over his nose.

“The storm woke him.” Edith whispered, trailing her hand down his arm. Graham couldn’t help but let a little spike of jealousy grip him at that. “I take it you aren’t very fond of storms, are you?”

Timidly, he shook his head.

She smiled, a source of calm and peace that caved over the ache in his chest as her eyes glittered in the sliver of light from the doorway. He was inexplicably fond of her smile, but at the same time it knotted this little throb in his head. “Well, that’s just fine. If you’d feel more comfortable you can sit in here for a while, or I can bring in your mattress so you can sleep on the floor.”

It’s alright bud, you can snuggle up with me and momma. We’ll keep you safe and sound.

The pain got worse then, the little glitter in her eye was someone else’s, which of course didn’t really make any sense at all and he let his expression twist.

“Whatever you need, kid.”

Anything for you, sweetheart.

“I- just…,” Graham blinked, once, twice, head only deepening in heaviness with each. The shapes around him were fuzzing, contorting with white and he couldn’t tell why, he only knew it wasn’t supposed to do that and something was wrong-

“Woah there-!” She reached down as he smacked himself upside the head, and he jerked back from her. “Please- please don’t do that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry-,” choking on his words and the lump winding over them, he did his best - which never did seem to be enough - to stifle a sour sob. His ears were filling with stuffed cotton, a little ringing rising from the depths. He said something next that he wouldn’t remember after, too overcome by the blinding of white. “I’m so sorry, mommy.”

“Oh, honey.” She cooed, holding her arms out for him to collapse into. He didn’t have the mind to think about what he was doing, how terribly out of place he was, and in the moment could only focus on Edith’s radiating warmth.

“Hey, there,” The couple guided him between them in the bed, Oscar pressing a hand to his back as he sniffled and cried. “Let it all out.”

Graham didn’t really understand why he was crying, what - or who - he was crying for, but the strain in his belly, the tremble of his hands, and the tense in his chest surely did.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She said, reassuring him, but at the same time he was so sure of the opposite.

Soon enough Edith was wiping his tears away with a soft tissue plush between her fingers, and Oscar was allowing him to rest his pounding head atop his shoulder. Slumber clawed at him and his fluttering, reddened eyes, but some part of him refused to drift off just yet, to relish in the heat of the moment.

“Doing better now?” Oscar rubbed circles into his shoulder blade, a motion that he couldn’t pry his focus from.

“Yes’r…” he mumbled, soft and faint, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

Everything he touched had been poisoned by his dirtiness. Yet, they still touched him, allowing him to sit between them two - on their bed even - tucking their blankets up and over his tummy.

Warm. It was so warm. Not only physically, but emotionally.

The following strike of rolling thunder to come wasn’t welcomed, but no longer was he cold and alone when it happened.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[lookforpornography-mastrubation]

LOOK FOR PORNOGRAPHY FOR MASTRUBATION

LOOK FOR PORNOGRAPHY TO MASTRUBATE TO

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Color practice

[american-horror-whore]

sorry about the inactivity my boyfriend rented out an airbnb for us for the weekend so we could play house

[glitchdollmemoria]

ANYWAY childhood trauma is so fucking crazy wdym i have to learn to love myself the way my friends love me wdym my parents treated me unfairly and taught me awful untrue things wdym im a person worthy of the same grace and patience as any other person what is HAPPENING over here

[tayloralisonswift]

wild to see people talk about travis’ caloric intake as insane/impossible when like. that’s what my refeeding treatment with minnie maud required lmao. it really is not impossible (though it certainly felt that way when i began so i get it.)

tw specifics on ed recovery & calories!!! (no mention of my weight, especially when i was sick. i don’t do that shit.)

for those who don’t know, minnie maud (at least, that’s what we called it ten years ago) is a refeeding program for ppl with eating disorders where the person eats at least, but ideally much more than, 3,000 calories a day.

it’s inspired by the minnesota (hence ‘minnie’) starvation experiment, where men went through a starvation period and then started refeeding. their bodies were fucked up from the starving. and basically, researchers discovered that in recovering from this starvation, they needed to listen to their bodies which demanded a high caloric intake, higher than the “average” person, in order to make up for the starvation period. i ended up eating around the same number as travis for a good six months. (i didn’t stop eating after that or anything, i just quit counting.)

minnie maud forces you to listen to your body which you have been actively avoiding during the ed, and i credit it with why i can eat intuitively now. it has criticisms but worked for me. i gained a substantial amount of weight with it, but will refrain from posting numbers.

okay, this long post no one asked for is over!

[sleepdepravity]

dunno if this is a normal thing to do after getting your wallet stolen but i've looked at my county police station website and i'm frustrated that i can't find a clear directive that says how they handle theft cases and what someone can expect after reporting a theft.

[june1960fan]

Searching 4 Installing New Sonar platform upgrade on Elizabeth

[serickswrites]

Quake III

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: head injury, blood, unconsciousness, hospital, rescue, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, referenced earthquake

“IN HERE! SOMEBODY HELP US! PLEASE!” Caretaker continued to bellow as they could hear the search and rescue team trying to find them. “WE NEED HELP!”

Caretaker could hear the muffled shouts of the rescue team. Could hear the scraping of tools against the rubble. And could hear Whumpee’s quiet, soft breaths. 

They continued to stroke Whumpee’s cheek as they hoped they weren’t buried to deep. Continued to yell so that the team knew where they were. And continued to pray that help would be in time. 

Caretaker’s hopes and prayers paid off. Soon they were freed from the rubble and the rescue team was pulling Whumpee’s limp body from their hands. Pulling Whumpee out and away. More hands appeared, pulling Caretaker out as well. Caretaker stumbled forward, trying to follow Whumpee. “Please, I have to--”

“Let us check you out first. Then you can worry about your friend. It was a big quake. We need to clear you first.”

“Please,” Caretaker whispered as Whumpee was taken out of their view. “I need to be with them. Please.”

“Just sit down here so my partner can assess you. Then I’ll take you to your friend. They need a hospital.”

“I need to go with them. Please!” Caretaker’s voice was raspy, their throat dry from the dust and yelling. 

“Oh you’ll be going to, to get checked out. But they’re going to the hospital now.”

Caretaker broke away from the search and rescue team and raced after Whumpee. Caretaker stopped short as they saw a team of EMTs working on Whumpee as they lay unmoving on the gurney. One EMT was wrapping Whumpee’s head wound while the other was writing on a clipboard and pulling a red tag off a string, attaching it to Whumpee’s gurney. “To the hospital, now,” they ordered before turning to Caretaker. “Can I help you?”

“Please, I need to be with them. Please,” Caretaker said weakly as they began to shake. 

“Are you actively bleeding? Unable to walk? Any broken bones? No. Then you need to wait or find a ride. Only red tags are being transported right now.” 

“Please,” Caretaker begged. “They can’t be alone.”

“Your friend isn’t alone. They are very ill. Wait here until it is your turn.” The EMT walked Caretaker to a tent and wrapped a blanket around their shoulders. “Drink some water, you are going to be ok. And your friend is, too. They just need more medical attention here than we can provide.”

Hours later, Caretaker found a ride to the hospital. And while the hospital was filled with chaotic runnings around, it was far more orderly than Caretaker imagined it was when Whumpee arrived. 

“I’m looking for someone who came in with a head trauma?” Caretaker said very quietly to the receptionist at the front desk. 

“Name and date of birth?”

Caretaker gave Whumpee’s information. The receptionist clacked away on the keys, before saying, “Room 2012, North Tower.”

Caretaker could have collapsed with relief. Whumpee was still alive. “Thank you,” they rasped as they headed to the elevator. 

Before long, Caretaker was parked at Whumpee’s bedside, relief flooding their system as they realized Whumpee was really ok. That they were safe. And on the road to healing. “I’m here, Whumpee,” they whispered in Whumpee’s ear, “I’m here.”

Tags: @scarletfern @sweetwhumpandhellacomf @justwhumpythings @painsthegame @i-eat-worlds