#medications tw

[distinctlywhumpthing]

This Time

(Unintentional 30)

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CW: BBU-adjacent (institutionalized slavery), brief references to past-beating, fear of noncon drugging. It's the boys' first time out in public together, we're being gentle, this is practically all fluff. Beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

When it’s seven o’clock and not a minute sooner, Leo says, “I’d feel better if you came with me.” He almost adds ‘this time’ and wonders if Aiden is also remembering the last time Leo left him alone while he ran into a store. 

Aiden’s eyes widen. “I…mmm…I…” He timidly raises a hand to the base of his throat, gaze falling as he does it. 

Leo tries not to read shame into his uncertainty. He clears his throat, wanting to sound as casual as possible. “I know. I looked it up and the law says you just need some form of identification on you. It doesn’t have to be…uh…” Nope, he can’t say it out loud. “But that’s really more if you’re on your own. If you’re accompanied…” 

He will also not be repeating the stipulation that in the absence of ‘wearable restraints’, anyone with a ‘plausible reason or concern’ may request that Leo ‘subdue’ Aiden or they are within their rights to do so themselves ‘by any means necessary’. Which unfortunately “explains” the bastards who tore him from the van that first night.

Leo runs a hand over his hair. “We’ll be in and out in five minutes, it’ll be fine.” 

Halfway to the door, Aiden loses his footing. Leo’s ready though, catching him with an arm threaded under his shoulders. 

“Mmm’sorry…” Aiden clutches Leo’s sleeve with his uninjured hand, leaning into him to steady himself. He doesn’t let go once he’s standing so Leo keeps an arm around him.

“No worries. It’s icy as hell and Converse aren’t exactly known for their traction.” They’re also not very warm so Leo ushers the wobbly kid on, making sure to steer him where there’s road salt or dry patches.

 They pause outside the door so he can pull Aiden’s hood off and make sure the scars on the back of his neck are covered by its fabric. “Hands out, right?” he reminds. Aiden nods. 

The last thing they need is some racist assistant manager on a power trip insisting on frisking him. Just the thought has Leo rethinking this whole stop. He’d never be able to stand aside and let that happen. The poor kid has already seen the worst at the hands of strangers; there’s no telling what reaction yet another pair might set off. Leo might be able to spare him the experience by outing him as a Companion but that isn’t exactly risk-free either. Leo doesn’t think he’d be able to make a passable demonstration of the “justice” he’d rain down later on his sticky-fingered Companion and even if he could, he’s pretty sure Aiden wouldn’t be play-acting terrified. After what he already had to put the kid through tonight, he doesn’t want to risk anything else testing the fragile trust between them. 

Aiden shifts from one foot to the other. Leo’s hesitance is making him even more nervous. The parking lot is still empty and Delia’s car has real locks and an alarm he’d hear from inside. Maybe there’s no need to take any risk—

“What-what…if…mmm’I…mmm…” Aiden looks over his shoulder to where he just slipped, furrowing his brow. 

There’s no way Leo can bring him back to the car now, not without confirming that he doesn’t trust him to manage his own two feet either. Sure, he’s not very stable on ice but it’s been weeks since he tripped in the house. Regardless, it’s one hypothetical Leo would happily handle.  

“You’ll be fine, you can do this.” 

Aiden drops his gaze. Leo can’t tell if it’s because he’s shy about the encouragement or if he thinks it’s just empty words. 

“I’ve got your back, kiddo,” he says, straightening Aiden’s beanie that doesn’t need straightening. “I’ll catch you if you trip again.” 

Aiden meets his eyes and only searches them for a second before nodding. 

Any remaining apprehension on Aiden’s part is eclipsed by a quiet overwhelm once they step through the door. His eyes widen and he looks even smaller surrounded by the full shelves, under fluorescent lights. He follows Leo closely, practically brushing against his side as though they’re jostling through a crowd and might get separated even though there’s no one else in sight. 

Leo steers his mind away from wondering too much about the last time Aiden was in a store. 

They walk along the even-brighter cosmetic aisle toward the prescription counter at the back. Aiden looks away from the little mirrors framed by bright red, pink, and coral lipsticks. His eyes trace the bottles on the other side instead, shampoos in colorful plastic, hairsprays in metallic spray cans, and gels in an array of containers all lined up in rows. He keeps his arms perfectly straight and pinned to his sides but his fingers twitch there. Like maybe he wants to touch something but he thinks he’s not allowed to. 

Leo pauses by the shower gel, earning a concerned if not startled stare from Aiden. “Easy, all good. Why don’t we pick one you like?” 

Aiden looks at him like he just suggested flying to Mars. 

Leo picks up the brightest red bottle, flips the cap open and sniffs. Nothing special, just a generic soap smell. He holds it out for Aiden who, slowly, eyes flicking up to Leo’s three times before he leans forward all the way, inhales too. 

“Anything?” 

He shrugs noncommittally, nervous now that Leo’s put him on the spot but Leo wants this to be light and fun, though that might be a leap. He goes for one that says ‘coconut-something island bliss’ in a yellow bottle. Smells nice enough. Aiden leans in a bit easier this time and, though barely discernible, wrinkles his nose. 

“I think not,” Leo offers. 

Aiden shakes his head. 

“Go on, pick another one.” 

He bites his lip and raises his good hand. Hesitates a few times as he scans the shelf before pausing in front of a teal bottle. His fingertips rub together absently as his gaze slides over to Leo, who gives him a reassuring nod. He carefully picks it up. Luckily, this one only needs to be pressed down to be opened and he gets it right away. He holds it out to Leo first—something floral this time—just shrugging once he smells it himself. 

But now he’s into it. 

Leo pulls a pink bottle off the shelf as Aiden chooses purple. Their arms cross in the air when they hold them out to each other and Aiden’s lips almost twitch into a smile. Leo wants to beam but he forces himself to play it cool. 

Aiden replaces his bottle and picks another red, ‘blood-orange orchid blossom’. It smells only of citrus because last time Leo checked, orchids don’t smell like anything so why even call it that except to fool people into paying more for something just because it sounds fancy?  

A black Axe bottle Leo is relieved Aiden also hates, Irish Spring, a classic Dove. Aiden only has trouble with one of the tops. Leo worries it’ll kill the moment but Aiden just passes it to him and finds another bottle. 

After a few more, Aiden goes back for the purple, or actually, ‘lavender fields in summer’, pulling it off the shelf again with about as much confidence as if he were playing Russian roulette. 

“Nice, good job.” 

Aiden huffs and tucks his chin against his chest, hiding a small smile that might just be relief but Leo hopes is something more. They feel different, this smile and the one in the car. Leo can’t put his finger on how they’re different but he finds himself willing to do just about anything to see one again. 

He has another internal debate about whether or not Aiden should be next to him at the prescription counter. In the end, he decides it can only help his case later if a neutral third party explains the medications to them both. 

The pharmacist is young and way too energetic for seven in the morning. Leo makes zero effort to match the vibe. He slides his license across the counter. “Hi, I’m here to pick up some prescriptions, please. Marshall.” 

“Marshall, Marshall, Marshall,” she repeats as she searches the system. “Leo?” she asks like it’s not on the license she’s holding. 

“Yep.” She passes it back and disappears behind the shelves. 

Aiden’s still as stone beside him. Leo smiles reassuringly but it’s no match for the basket of prescription bottles the pharmacist returns with. He should have read Noah’s notes to know exactly what they were getting into. 

A two-week course of—thankfully—liquid amoxicillin. High-dose naproxen for pain as needed. A refill of his paroxetine thanks to Delia. She’s good. He definitely would have skipped it to reduce the sheer volume of pills he would be picking up with Aiden. At least the pharmacist skips the instructions because she can see it’s a refill of a medication he’s been taking for years. 

The last is the worst. Alprazolam with an over-the-top warning that it “causes extreme drowsiness” and “do not operate heavy machinery”. Finally, the real nail in the coffin: “it’s a potent tranquilizer.” Five doses, no refills. He definitely should have read Noah’s notes first. 

Leo rushes to end the exchange and move on to damage control. He grabs a basket from the stack, sweeps the medications in, and resists the urge to rush Aiden out of the whole damn store. He walks them to the far right, along the cold cases of sodas and drinks and freezers filled with ice cream, bags of ice, and a smattering of frozen dinners, mostly for one. The opposite side of the aisle is lined with chips but Aiden’s eyes are glued to the pile of white paper bags in the red plastic basket. 

Christ, where to start? 

“Aiden, can you look at me?” He does, of course. Eyes shining and full of betrayal. “Hon, I know you heard some things back there—” 

“...good…” 

“What?” 

Aiden swallows, wets his lips. He’s clutching the bottle of body wash like it’s keeping him upright. “I-I-I’ll…be…mmm…good.” His eyes flick to the basket and back to Leo’s, pleading. 

“Of course you will. You are good. You’re always good, I know that.” 

No dice. Leo’s reassurances mean nothing, not with what he’s holding. He drops the basket behind him, an arm’s length away. The gesture is met with open suspicion. 

“Hon, the only thing in there that you have to take are the antibiotics. To fight off the infection in your hand. The liquid one Delia talked about, right?” 

He nods once but his eyes narrow. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Delia and Noah only wrote the other prescriptions to give you options. The pain killers, the anxiety pills, they’re only if you want them.” 

Aiden’s expression crumples and he shakes his head. Distressed by the suggestion that he would ever choose to take anything? Or can he only see the whole thing as a trick, a mockery of his agency or lack thereof? 

Leo’s heart aches for him. There’s nothing he can say that will erase all of that history or make it any easier to carry. “Okay, okay. I know this is overwhelming but I wanted you to hear it for yourself. I mean, from someone other than me. That way when you… If you… You can decide…” Aiden looks at him miserably, eyes still burning with betrayal. Leo’s only digging himself deeper. “One of the prescriptions is for me anyway,” he flounders. “Let’s just—” He reaches for Aiden’s shoulder but he steps back, out of reach. 

For a moment they just stare at each other. 

Aiden takes another step back and his eyes widen, surprised to find himself where he’s just stepped. Surprised Leo hasn’t grabbed him yet. His gaze slides from Leo’s face to a point over his shoulder and Leo’s heart sinks. 

The door? Would he run? Aiden takes a step forward, eyes still locked over Leo’s shoulder. 

“Wait—” Leo can’t handle the thought of losing this kid for the third time tonight. His eyes film over with tears. “Ple—”

Instead of walking around him, Aiden steps right into his arms. 

And then the sound hits his ears and Leo turns, shuffling Aiden behind his back for the shelter he was seeking. He wasn’t trying to run, he heard people coming in. He leans into Leo’s back, free hand gripping a fistful of Leo’s jacket so tightly Leo can feel how hard he’s shaking. They don’t have much of a height difference but he’s ducked his head to try to hide better, Leo can feel his cheek against his shoulder blade. 

It’s no wonder why—though Leo is impressed by his hearing—the guys are similar enough to the group that beat the shit out of him that first day. They laugh and banter their way to the first case in the aisle like this is just one stop in a fun night that’s still going. They pull out a six-pack of Red Bull and head to the registers without so much as a glance Leo’s way. 

He doesn’t move until Aiden does and Aiden waits until they’ve picked out a scratch-off and multiple vape flavors, joking with the cashier. Leo doesn’t bother keeping the judgment off his face with Aiden tucked behind his back. They stay, frozen like that until the pair amble out of the store. 

Aiden straightens, releasing Leo’s coat as soon as the first set of automatic doors slides shut. Leo turns to find him staring ahead unseeing, bottle in one hand and the other still closed into a tight fist. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Leo keeps his voice a whisper, all too aware they’re still in public. “It’s all right, they’re gone.” 

Aiden nods but only reflexively. He squeezes his eyes shut once, twice, blinking away more tears each time he opens them. His fist trembles between them, arm still locked where it was holding Leo’s coat. 

Leo’s nervous to touch the poor kid considering the mental whiplash he must have—thinking Leo might drug him against his will only to be forced to depend on him for some semblance of safety—but if Aiden’s clenching his fist as tight as it looks, he’s putting too much strain on his stitches. 

“Can I give you a hand?” Leo holds his out, palm up. 

A few days ago, he’d spent a whole bathroom re-tile brainstorming a phrase to use during these moments when he didn’t know where to begin. Something neutral, not explicitly offering help but still open-ended enough that Aiden might get what he needed.  

Without even looking, Aiden drops his hand into Leo’s, uncurling his shaking fingers to grip him tightly. Leo’s momentarily dumbstruck that it worked. Has to be a fluke. 

“You’re doing great. We’re almost done.” He wraps his other arm around Aiden who shudders, finally exhaling. Leo wishes he could just hold him properly, until he stopped shaking, until he felt safe, no matter how long it took. “I just need to grab a few more things and then we’re outta here.” He gives Aiden one last squeeze before releasing him. 

The list from Noah is actually in his sister’s handwriting, first the prescriptions with more specific instructions and then a bunch of other things. Before he attaches himself to that fucking depository of pills again, he grabs a bag of pretzels and another of popcorn off the shelf to add to the basket. It’s an obvious move but at least now the prescription bags aren’t staring at them.

“Sterile gauze and bandages,” he tells Aiden, who nods stiffly, falling in to shadow him as he weaves through the store. He could move faster but he can’t risk anything else going wrong just now. 

Aiden doesn’t react to anything else Leo adds to the basket. As much as Leo wants to involve him, give him some choice or context, he can see the kid is dead on his feet. He is too, has been all night. 

Clothing basics happen to be at the end of the last aisle on their way to the registers. Leo wonders how bad is it to get some for Aiden now. Probably not as bad as it was to let him go this long constantly borrowing Leo’s. A pack of t-shirts, a pack of boxers, a pack of socks. Black for sure to avoid his tendency to flat-out panic about stains. Evidently, even this strip mall CVS is influenced by the pretentiousness of the surrounding area: there’s a choice of organic cotton that costs about forty percent more. Leo wonders if that means he can permit himself to feel forty percent less shitty for not getting Aiden even one thing to call his own sooner. 

He’s not sure what to expect when they get to the register. The woman in her mid-forties has hoops in her ears and acrylic French tips tapping on the side of her lime green phone case. She unabashedly continues scrolling, even after Leo says hello until he finishes unloading the basket. 

“Morning,” she says offhandedly as she starts scanning and bagging. 

When Leo leans away stack away the empty basket, Aiden steps forward to soundlessly place the bottle of body wash on the counter. 

“And good morning to you too, darlin’,” the cashier says, winking theatrically. 

Leo is about to step in front of him, make some remark about the weather to pull focus, but Aiden flashes her a smile that is as dazzling as it is vacant. Leo finds it unsettling but the cashier laughs, joking about how Aiden should look her up when he’s ten years older. Leo forces a chuckle as he pays, shoving the receipt in his coat and telling her to have a nice day while he grabs the bags off the counter. 

She returns the pleasantries and waves at Aiden. Leo’s jaw almost hits the floor when Aiden wiggles his fingers back as they walk away. 

Outside, Leo shifts all the bags to one side, turning to offer Aiden his other arm. 

He holds on right away, glancing around nervously like he's a deer about to step into an open field. He can’t seem to decide if he should watch his footing or surroundings. The street lights cast harsh angles on his face, hollowing his cheeks and throat, deepening the weariness under his eyes. 

Night and day from the mask of a smile he’d pulled on inside and haunting in an entirely different way. Leo is struck again by how little he knows about Aiden, how much he may never know, and the fact that if he’s going to do right by him, he’ll have to be ready for it all.

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess

@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump

@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings

@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump

@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps 

@batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight

[karnakian]

boohoohoo me scrolling through this blog i miss leon man i miss writing i miss being here so much

[aslyfcx]

I feel like I hurried back here too quickly and I apologized for leaving again so soon (taking a very very long break) after I announced I’m back. I thought I was ready but in reality I wasn’t. The threads are on hold, asks are on hold.

I’m gonna explain why I’m leaving again under the more section but it’s gonna touch some touchy subjects. It’s gonna be a veryyyy long post.

I am not asking for advice. I’m simply posting this because I want you guys to know what’s going on and why I’ve been on and off more often than usual.

Having an alcoholic stepfather scares me a shit ton because he just gave me a fucking heart attack because I could hear him coughing and choking from the living room while I was in my bedroom. Mom heard it too.

Mom, younger brother (he’s an adult, just want to clarify), and I dealt with him so many times because he has fallen a lot of times this year, stumbling around, putting his pajamas on only to fucking fall over, drinking every damn night…some days, it got to a point where he will drink in the morning and other days he just drinks all fucking day long. He denies being an alcoholic and he denies that he drinks even though he does.

My younger brother had to be the one to legit lift him up off the fucking ground whenever he falls.

On top of that, it’s bad enough I have to deal with helping my mom out with her grandmother and watching my mom be responsible for my grandma’s financial stuff because my grandma is still getting taken advantage of by my toxic ass sister and my toxic oldest nephew. They’re still fucking asking her for money even though they don’t even have the fucking guts to go to my mom to ask because they’re fucking scared of my mom and they won’t face my grandpa because my grandpa was fucking infuriated, told them off when he first found out.

This shit has been going on since February of this year and my mom’s been taking care of her shit for months, fucking months because nobody else knows how to handle financial shit. My mom never had a close relationship with her mom but damn—she’s only doing this to make sure my papa doesn’t get screwed over.

Everything is so fucked up and I’m tired of trying to put on an optimistic facade here in the server and out in public but I know I have to so I don’t have to make people worry…although I am finally getting all of this out.

I did let my therapist know but it just keeps getting worse and worse. I tried a new medication and that didn’t fucking help so I’m left with the current medications I’m taking.

And we had to look into my grandparents’ wills, we had to update my papa’s will with his consent because he didn’t feel right leaving everything to my toxic ass sister and my oldest nephew. My grandma basically just left every single fucking thing to my toxic ass sister and nephew, she made my toxic sister the representative in which we’re not changing because my toxic ass sister had been using her fucking card for OF aka OnlyFans, expensive shit too. We had to get her a new card when we first found out and then recently we had to close her card because somebody used her card for Hiltons Hotel which was $1,500 in which my mom declined that purchase, the bank closed her card.

My grandma is paying for my uncle’s rent and home (the home that should’ve been paid off years ago but it wasn’t), my toxic ass sister and nephew’s rent for the place they’re staying in, car insurance for my toxic ass sister and my uncle. My sister put my grandma’s name under her car on the fucking Audi while she wasn’t herself at the time. She fucking took advantage of my grandmother.

She’s paying for the goddamn truck that my nephew drives. She is paying for everything.

It hurts seeing my mom busting her ass and my own grandma doesn’t even care. She just jokes saying she will go to prison when we told her that it’s serious about this matter. She just fucking jokes about it.

My grandma has been diagnosed with primary biliary cholangitis back in February or so. She has liver issues and she doesn’t drink. She never fucking drank. She’s on medications to help her liver keep going and help get the toxics out of her liver otherwise she will not get enough oxygen to the brain if she doesn’t take these goddamn medications.

[herleaf]

YALL IVE BEEN HAVING THE WRONG MEDS FOR TWO MONTHS AND DIDNT REALIZE UNTIL THIS MORNING. The med I thought is was didn’t auto refill and they didn’t tell me and so I picked up the med to take when I get anxiety attacks only and thought it was the stomach acid meds. So I’ve been wondering why my stomach hurts but I’m so calm and didn’t question it. The dumb bitch juice was chugged. But all is well and my psychiatrist told me what to do but like… how did the stars align so right but so wrong for this to happen?

[ghostlytalkin]

I want to be super clear, and because this deals with my attempt and some pretty dark ass stuff regarding MYSELF I am going to put it under read more, nobody is obligated to read it but to clarify for probably more my sanity. But I ask that please don't go to others blaming them for what I tried to do. I took things that was said and let it swallow me instead of ignoring them like I would do towards a lot of people. This being said, here is a crazy long message.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:

suicide attempt, medications, hospitals, stalking, death threats, police {briefly}, long ass post

I am not going to blame ANYBODY but myself for my attempt at suicide. I suffer greatly from suicidal idealization and the idea of dying before getting old. I suffer from depression and my therapist and I are working to narrow down the type of depression I have because it acts like the tide changes and they do not want to give a automatic diagnosis. I also deal with minor obsessions and hyperfixations which we're working on.

I did spend some time under suicide watch in the hospital. I had my sister checking up on me through my nurses, who were super nice and one let me talk her ear off for nearly fifteen minutes before my meds kicked in and I passed the fuck out. I have been going through the motions of anti depressant medication and tbh I kinda hate them because of how tired they make me. But I am still taking them because everybody has told me that it takes time to adjust and my therapist said that it cane take a bit for your body to adjust. Plus I have insomnia and so the sleep I guess is needed because I've sleep deprived myself for years and worked on only 1-4 hours of sleep since I was in middle school.

I know I said that rpcvent outed me, but it was pointed out I had an earlier post where I put that I was evie/eevee. I honestly forgot about it and thought people pieced it together from rps I've mentioned having been in. That is on me. Even if I don't agree with rpcvent on things everybody has their own opinions and it is whatever.

I am getting help, I have decided to put this blog on pause for myself except for 1 day a week I will put things in the queue to run for the other 6 days. I will be having my inbox open for others to still come to if they choose, nobody is obligated to come to my inbox. But my inbox will be monitored by another so if death threats start coming in the inbox will be closed again. This is not up for debate and my person monitoring my blog will delete anon hate directed at me.

If anybody wants to be respectful and be like "hey this thing that you did had hurt me/a friend/somebody I know." I am open to it and bringing it to my therapist to find a corrective action on how to change and do better. I will also apologize. I never intended to cause people harm, more like call out their behaviors after they'd been talked to. I want to be better and do better and not having been told before I was causing issues I had no idea. I want to do better and make sure I am not that person.

For the people who were saying I was online while I was away and reporting it to other blogs

Please, don't monitor somebody's online status like that. For me personally it triggered my ptsd. I spent the last 6 years with an online stalker in the witch community who would monitor when I was online to try and narrow down my timezone to then would start asking my friends where I lived. They used multiple accounts to try and find out and get close to me under fake names. It got to the point where police were involved because they told people they had found out the area I lived at the time in Oregon and had gotten a plane ticket to come find me and kill me. And this all started because they were watching for me being online.

I am a pretty guarded person because I am scared of that happening again. I was almost doxxed three times, twice to this kind of person. It got so bad that police both in my state and their state was involved and it was confirmed they did have a plane ticket to Oregon. On discord I have a constant status of being idle, sometimes I will switch it to DND if I will be away longer than a few hours and forget about it, and it's because of this situation. I have a protective order against my stalker and charges had been pressed for telephonic harassment {which sounds fake and I thought it was fake until the officer I was working with showed me it was a real thing}.

And I'm sure somebody will run to tell this to other blogs, fine. Yeah I was stalked for SIX years. But what did I do? I told them I could no longer help with a situation I won't get into detail about and other people started to talk about how creepy stalker was and they said it was me telling people. That is the jist of it because frankly that situation has been dead to me and I've been trying to live my life despite my stalker persisting up until two weeks ago.

Please don't just monitor somebody's online status just to report it to others. That's really uncomfortable.

AS FAR AS THIS BLOG:

I will leave it up. There is two call outs that need to be up for others. This being the Elysium items, which was requested that I reblog and leave open for everybody so they can always have the receipts of behaviors and that of Cody because I've also been asked as he still is not taking accountability for his behaviors towards women and those who look feminin.

I will be doing more research before I post things, I'll look into whatever you guys send me or I will continue to ask for proof. Again, no proof sent will be posted without permission unless it is proof I personally found and posted. I want to do better, so I will make myself more informed.

I'm not going to join rps though to find things, that's weird and I think would be suspicious and I am not comfortable with doing that. What other people do and then send to me is on them. But right now I will be only answering things one day a week and will converse with my therapist regarding things because it's important to monitor. I'll be taking the rest of this week and next week off to allow myself a break and have time to further process and heal for myself for what I've done.

Thank you for reading this if you did. I am apologetic for the hurt that I have caused and I hope y'all have a lovely day.

[compassionatereminders]

The worst thing is that there is so much potential for exploring the horror of psych wards from the angle of medical abuse, ableism, forced treatment/drugging, loss of autonomy, power imbalance, demonization, dehumanization, etc, and YET the horror genre keeps defaulting to "insane asylums and psych wards are scary because there are mentally ill people in there"

[queerbauten]

I freaking love Sudafed

[cowboylexapro]

look at my doctors dawg im gonna die

[ruporas]

dragon meat, you, and me

[rhinexstone]

My fav version of poison ivys power origin story is a lá Thorns (medically tortured as a kid) and when she learns about a literal child following batman around she FREAKS OUT.

Ivy gets batman alone then serves him a total curveball: she wants to vaccinate Robin from most of her toxins. Bruce thinks it’s a trap until word on the street is that Scarecrow and joker had multiple poisons stolen. He confronts ivy and she admits to stealing them but it’s for the proposed vaccine for Robin.

The rules are that he’s not allowed any samples of the vaccine, and Robin stays with her for three hours for the vaccine to fully absorb into his system. Batman can stay with him, but only in the same room as she might need to use lab equipment.

So every Robin gets the very odd experience of having their biannual vaccine from Dr. Poison Ivy, where they are all on their best behavior and get biodegradable stickers while Bruce just very patiently sits next to them like >:| with one of those temperature guns aimed at their heads

[whatcha-thinkin]

Tell your stories in the tags, if you want to share!

[fatliberation]

anti-fatness is not just body shaming.

anti-fatness is discrimination. anti-fatness is having next to no legal protections for being discriminated against. anti-fatness is being denied housing, jobs, receiving less pay and promotions (legally) because of your size. anti-fatness is being denied access to clothing, seating, transportation, and other human rights because infrastructure has been designed to exclude you. anti-fatness is less likelihood of receiving a fair trial. anti-fatness is dehumanization. anti-fatness is being denied necessary surgeries, but not surgery that amputates the digestive tract with the intent to starve and shrink you (it doesn’t work either). anti-fatness is mutilation. anti-fatness is being subject to torture devices that bolt your mouth shut. anti-fatness is being told by close friends, family, and professionals that you are better off living with an eating disorder or other life-threatening illness. anti-fatness sells you starvation as a guaranteed opt-out of oppression, but doesn’t tell you that bodies will always regain weight to survive. anti-fatness blames and punishes you for failing at an achievement that is quite literally impossible. anti-fatness is a $90 billion dollar industry. anti-fatness is being denied gender-affirming care. anti-fatness is being barred from in vitro fertilization and reproductive healthcare. anti-fatness is being barred from adopting children. anti-fatness is being removed from your loving parents because they couldn’t make you thin. anti-fatness is intentionally starving your own baby so they won’t get fat. anti-fatness is disproportionately high suicide rates. anti-fatness is being killed at the hands of medical neglect and mistreatment. anti-fatness is the world preferring a dead body over a fat one.

[uncanny-tranny]

Fat people deserve mobility aids, too. No matter if it's connected to their fatness or not, because having a mobility issue that is connected to one's fatness won't change that they're still fat and still have the issue at hand. Fat people don't deserve to "tough it out" because fatness should be this divine punishment doled out to those who "deserve" it. Fat disabled people deserve to have the peace of mind that they can exist in whatever way is most comfortable and accessible to them

[headspace-hotel]

How medical procedures were introduced to me in most of my life: We're going to do [X], okay? (Already doing X without waiting for me to answer)

How I would want a doctor to introduce a medical procedure: I'm going to explain the most common way we do [X], and all the tools and steps that are usually involved. Then we can talk about whether this sounds okay to you and how we can change and adjust things that sound uncomfortable, or if we would need to try an alternative.

I desperately wish all medical professionals would refrain from using the phrase "We're going to do [thing]," because this obviously implies I have no choice and feels to me like "This is happening immediately."

A lot of otherwise nice nurses and doctors will say they're "going to" do something when they're asking for consent, but it triggers my panic and doesn't feel like i'm really being asked

[go-star-sailor]

homoerotic wellness checkup

[dailyhistoryposts]

Dora Richter

Dora Rudolfine Richter/Dora Rudolfa Richterová (1892-1966) was the first known person to undergo a complete surgical transition. Born to a poor farming family, she was immediately noted to be feminine in her actions and dressed as a girl. In 1916, she was encouraged to go to Magnus Hirschfeld's medical practice.

Officially living as a man (and arrested multiple times for dressing as a woman), she worked at the Hirschfeld Institute for Sexual Research, and over 9 years had multiple surgeries, including being the first transgender woman to undergo vaginoplasty.

In May 1933, students attacked the Hirschfeld Institute and all records were burned. Richter, like many others, was presumed dead, but had successfully escaped to Czechoslovakia, and later Bavaria. She lived until the age of 74, where she was remembered as a sweet old woman who fed the birds and let them nest in her handbag.