#we're self medicating

[the-crooked-library]

opened tiktok (mistake number one, i know) and immediately saw someone saying that Thomas Hutter subverts the "disbelieving husband" trope which... listen i love a thoroughly pathetic mess of a man myself and i get that Ellen's other option is a 400yo evil corpse, but can we please not give him credit for things he didn't do?..

the literal inciting incident of the story is that Thomas DOESN'T listen to Ellen. he doesn't believe her. she tells him that she's got a bad feeling about this trip, begs him not to go, tells him about her nightmare - and what does he do? he calls it a childish fantasy, tells her to stop worrying, and implies that she would benefit from talking to a doctor. saying shit softly doesn't make it any less dismissive or insulting, like i'm sorry but this is peak Disbelieving Husband in a Horror Movie behaviour. he only changed his mind once Orlok put him through the horrors himself, which is also a perfectly standard thing for a Disbelieving Husband to do in the second act. furthermore, from the beginning of the film, he neglects Ellen's emotional needs, is uncomfortable with her abnormalities, and doesn't even really know what sort of gifts she likes - and again, these are all standard flaws for a Disbelieving Husband to exhibit. they're indicative of a disconnect between him and his wife that he continuously refuses to bridge.

caring for someone doesn't mean you can't neglect or harm them, and that applies to everyone - including Normal People like Thomas, like Harding, like Sievers, like the viewer; and that's the point of the film

[not-poignant]

I’m so proud of Efnisien for trying to text Gary and get help, very glad that he seems to immediately know he has a right to not be treated in the way Michael is treating him. It’s great how intact his survival instinct is despite all he’s been through. (Like compared to FFS Efnisien just putting up with people treating him terribly and needing to learn to act to protect himself, I feel like FFS Efnisien would not have sent that text until very late into the story maybe (which is not a complaint lol that’s of my favorite character arcs but i’m happy for UTB Efnisien that he seems to be doing better on that front))

I’m so proud of Efnisien for trying to text Gary and get help, very glad that he seems to immediately know he has a right to not be treated in the way Michael is treating him.

Tbh Efnisien's always had a really amazing ability to fight even when he believes he deserves the treatment he's getting. Efnisien's fight is actually not about what he believes is a right/wrong way to be treating him, it's almost always about survival.

When he tries to kill Kadek, he's still concerned that he's a complete failure and that this is his best case scenario.

In FFS when Crielle literally stabs him nearly to death, which he strongly believe he deserves to the point that he stood there and took it, he still was the one who messaged the ambulance to make sure he wouldn't die.

When Kitson said that he was there on Arden's say-so and Efnisien let him hurt him, he still fought back eventually even if - for a long time - he was never quite sure if Arden made that happen (and doesn't know for sure until much later in the hospital).

My favourite thing about Efnisien is that he fights regardless of what he believes he has a right to. He's already doubting whether Gary really wants him (he started doubting this before he left), he starts doubting what is actually happening to him, and starts wondering if he's "too hard" for Gary and Hillview, before Michael Henton turns on him, and that doesn't change when he starts fighting. But Efnisien will fight. That's what he does.

His survival instincts often (though not always) override his sense of what he deserves or doesn't deserve, when it comes down to pure survival. Like you say, his survival instinct is intact! But survival instincts aren't based in 'I don't deserve this' - they're based in survival.

This is also why Efnisien often doesn't fight until it comes down to a perceived (or literal) life or death situation. Efnisien on the bridge. Efnisien with Kitson. Efnisien with Crielle and being stabbed. Efnisien with Michael. Efnisien with Kadek in UtB. These are matters of - to Efnisien - life or death.

There's a lot of other stuff he will put up with and be miserable over (especially in FFS, where there are definitely times he also looks at a life/death situation and chooses not to act), but it's amazing how often he fights regardless of what he feels he deserves!

[k--o--m--o--r--e--b--i]

i don't feel maternal, sexual, or romantic urges towards john lennon, but rather, I'd like to be in his life as his therapist.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just got the funniest idea for a stream

[scorittanius]

explaining my chronic hypoglycemia is so fucking frustrating honestly

not only are people weirdly aggressive to the concept of sugar being vital to our health and me not having enough of it and having to treat that by eating sugary stuff, particularly 'unhealthy' stuff like lollies and chocolate since it's really good at getting a lot of sugar in my system really fast

but they also IMMEDIATELY assume i'm diabetic and start talking about that, trying to guess if i'm type one or two, blaming me for it, saying i don't 'look' diabetic if it's in person, ect

like i know hypoglycemia isn't particularly common outside of diabetes and alchoholism... but it would be nice for people not to immediately assume that's why i have it and start being really fucking weird about it?

it's also increased my sympathy for diabetics tenfold like holy fuck if this is just what it's like to be *percieved* as having it by random strangers i can only imagine what they go through in medical settings and other interactions where they're *confirmed* to have it, fuckin christ

[simplydnp]

What inspired u to get a degree in math just curious now :) :0

i've always been really good at math. for some reason, it comes extremely naturally to me. i chalk it up to genes and also my environment. i was fortunate enough to have 2 very present parents in my life that really valued education, so not only was i reading at an early age, but any time we travelled, we would do math flashcards in the car.

i was told that university courses would be difficult, so i braced for math to get harder. but it never really did. like yes, i had to do homework and study for tests, but i never had to work to understand something, it always just clicked. i think i'm simply hardwired for math. and i really love it. it makes so much sense to me, and it's almost beautiful the way a lot of complex mathematics works. it's like you're tapped into the universe and it's speaking about the mysteries of existence, and you learn to listen and speak back.

[eclecticopposition]

Got tagged in the 9 people you want to know better by @grand-magnificent and @podcastingpineapple (and have been named as one of the cool friends at the table people. indistinguishable from the people who have been here for way longer than us. we are actually thrilled)

Last song: Like Real People Do by Hozier. it came on as our first morning alarm yesterday

Currently watching: Nothing. We don't watch a lot of things. Am listening to Counter/Weight again. Looking for a mech anime to start.

Currently reading: Fucking Trans Women the zine, by Mira Bellwether. It's good. If you haven't read it you should read it.

Current obsession: Man good question. Variance (our own OCs), friends at the table (specifically palisade), meditation, and climbing trees? It doesn't feel like a full obsession in the usual sense we define it. There isn't a lot of joy or compulsion that we can act on without reservation. Unless you count the stuff you get with probably undiagnosed OCD-spectrum anxiety, in which case it's trying to be connected with the rest of our system and communicate sincerely and be mature and feeling like it's a live or die situation that defines our moral character when we do literally anything or have mean thoughts. (Working on it. Actually trying not to work on it 24/7 because that's an obsession thing.) Also our skin gets way more bumpy in the summer and our BFRB goes nuts. But once we get over the thought phobia, we'll probably go back to having classic obsessions and special interests. And then we'll probably have so many things to talk about.

tagging (if you want!!): let's get a mix of both social circles in here. fuck it. @aurochsent @beeeeeans @andromedasea @circuitousmoths @psiideaffect @mithridic @gretchenfinch @kira-serialfaggot @mosswolf

[ashenhartkrie]

what kind of fucked up world do we live in where an assessment for adhd costs OVER a thousand dollars. im never getting this shit diagnosed or treated

[red-winter-is-coming]

chat oh my fucking god we forgot we have anemia (specifically the iron dificient verity) and that's almost certainly the reason why we've been consistently llightheaded and shit the past few days

[anxietyfrappuccino]

got attached to a stray cat. someone picked her up. they're asking if my mom will take her, but my mom hasn't answered bec we we're already planning on picking up our stray ranch cat from the family ranch.................... i fucking hate this.

[virtualcarrot]

Cannot tell you how exhausting it is to deal with someone who outsources their emotional management to you, and who retreats behind victimhood vocabulary of ''i feel like you're judging me" whenever you dare so much as hint at the necessity for them to fucking take charge of themselves

[steampoweredskeleton]

.

Ignore

[wallabywannabe]

It has been a rough month for 100% physical reasons. I often blame a lot of physical symptoms on my mental health and I think it's often valid, but a sinus infection is not one of those things. I really really want my head to stop hurting.

[je-suis-problematique]

The CBD oil prescription can't come soon enough.

– Moony

[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 accused 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’d 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 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 run 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 Leo adds to the basket. Liquid Motrin and Benadryl, electrolyte powder, melatonin, three different forms of multi-vitamins, a dozen different granola bars. 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

[the-mycelium-collective]

We've got our period (our body is afab), and it's at its peak and I feel like throwing up and I've got camps and no heating pad. I won't be sleeping for quite a while.

Why am I fronting for this? I hate this so much