#maybe you'll get addicted to surgery???

[rinshairandthoughts]

It also sounds like he does not understand what addiction is.

Like he thinks enjoying and appreciating something means you are addicted to it. By that logic even some everyday activities are addictive. Joy does not mean addiction. We are very much allowed to enjoy being alive. Enjoying being able to function as an adult for the first time in years, does not mean you are addicted to the medication. Just because you do not want to stop, does not mean you are not able to stop.

The other day I told a friend of mine that I never forget to take my ADHD meds because I fucking love my ADHD meds. I'm in my late 30s, I didn't finally get a diagnosis and meds until less than two years ago, and they have changed my entire life.

And he raised his eyebrow at me. We'd been discussing addictive medications a few minutes before, like the Tramadol I finally got from the pain specialist to take once a week or so to give me a break from my chronic pain, so I reassured him that methylpenidate (Ritalin/Concerta) is not addictive (at least not in people with ADHD).

His response? To raise his eyebrow even harder and say "Well it sure SOUNDS like it's addictive!"

And I had to explain to this man - who works in a healthcare related job by the way - that just because medication makes you feel good and helps you, just because you look forward to taking it, that doesn't make it addictive or dangerous. And he wasn't convinced.

The simple fact that I was excited to take a daily pill that has literally changed my life, after decades of fighting to get that medication, made him think I shouldn't be taking it so often. That it must inherently be dangerous.

I'm not even in America, but I'm pretty sure this attitude began there and then spread over here to Europe. This Puritan idea of "if something feels good, you must beware of it. Pleasure is dangerous, it is sinful, it is addiction, it is evil."

I know too many people who subconsciously believe that pleasure = addictive = dangerous = bad. Joy is a slippery slope to hell.

So here is your reminder for today that you don't need to be afraid of feeling good. If something improves your life, use it. Even if it is addictive - learn what that addiction means, whether the addiction is inherently dangerous or not, and whether the benefits outweigh the drawbacks and risks.

My ADHD meds are, in fact, not addictive. But I will take them every day because they make my life orders of magnitude easier. I will enjoy them every time I take them.

My tramadol is addictive. I will still take it. I will keep it on a schedule to avoid becoming addicted, primarily because addiction in this case would mean reduced effectiveness. But I am not afraid of my painkillers. They are life changing.

Take your meds, everyone. Don't let anyone scare you away from doing something that improves your life.

[thethingything]

our tooth is suddenly a lot more painful again and I don't know why, but I also only had one ibuprofen left so I've just taken that and I guess I have to hope our mum can get us some more before that one wears off because I really want to avoid having to take co-codamol again.

the issue is that we took some ibuprofen earlier and it wore off so quickly I'm not sure we're gonna be able to get away with just using that but I'm gonna feel really shitty if I do end up having to take the co-codamol, and we'd started getting intrusive thoughts about taking it while not actually in pain so I've gotten myself into this ridiculous loop of being like "what if I'm just coming up with an excuse to take it" even though I am in fact in a fuckload of pain now and the other medication isn't helping enough.

it feels like I'm stuck in a situation where my options are once again to either take a medication that I know is fucking me up and it's going to be a nightmare, or deal with being in too much pain to function, so I'm fucked no matter what I do

[themorrigans-crow]

CW: TRAUMA DUMP, MISGENDERING, TRANSPHOBIA, PARENTS, MENTIONS OF SA, SELF HARM, ADDICTION AND S**C*DE

Dear Mom and Dad,

I don't know if I'll ever want you to read this. Maybe you'll come across it on here. Maybe not. But I need these words put into the world.

When I came out to you the first time, as nonbinary, Mom said "I just don't get it." I didn't expect you to, but I expected you to listen and hoped you'd change your vernacular for me. I spent so much time worrying about what you'll say. Worrying about how you'll view me. Wondering if you'll love me. Dad, with your "stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about" and "men don't cry" lessons, and threatening to spank me if I stepped out of line, even as an adult. "You're never too old to be put over my knee." And Mom with your religious upbringing and stubborn personality. You never did change well. Neither of you did. But I hoped for the best.

Still you said "I don't think I'll be able to use they/them pronouns. It just doesn't make sense to me." Both of you deadnamed me and misgendered me for months, saying "it's hard to change when I've known you as our son for so long." Dad got better faster. Mom, you really didn't. Neither of you understood why I stormed out after you introduced me as your "son" to friends.

Fine. Whatever.

So I stopped telling you things. I stopped telling you what was going on in my life. I never told you I've been SA'd multiple times. I didn't tell you I started hormones until I had been on them for a while and couldn't hide the changes. I didn't tell you I attempted to stop existing, twice. I didn't tell you I got addicted to alcohol and self harm.

You got upset that I wasn't telling you things. So, in an effort to bring you back into my life, I opened up.

When I came out to you a second time, as a trans woman, you said you loved and supported me. You said you want what's best for me, and while you don't understand what's going on, you're going to try. I told you about my attempts, and your reactions were of concern and want to help me. But you'd already lost a lot of my trust in you. You told me how scary it is for you. I got a semicolon tattoo. Dad, you said "are you sure you know what that's for? That's not something to mess around with." Yes, because just like all the other permanent changes to my body I've made, I haven't done the research into it, and made the decision on a whim. That last sentence was sarcasm, if you didn't pick up on it.

I remember the conversation we had, early in the morning on a trip while the others were sleeping. You referred to me as "he" and I said, "this needs to stop. I'm not your son. I'm your daughter. If it continues, I will buy the next plane ticket home and you will never see me again." I was told how disrespectful I was being, that I shouldn't talk that way to my parents. I stood my ground. I like to think you got the point eventually.

Maybe I would have figured it out sooner, that I was trans. Maybe I would have experimented with my gender and sexuality if you were more accepting in my youth. I was always so afraid to question things. With a parenting style of "because I said so" and "I'll give you a reason to cry" and not recognizing your child has different needs, who can blame me? I always found friends among the girls at school. Never the boys. I hated sports, didn't understand why I couldn't hang out with girls alone when I was a kid, and only did scouts cause I thought that's how you valued me. Gods I hated it. But on the bright side, I wouldn't have met my now girlfriend if we hadn't met there. So, there's a silver lining.

Eventually you stopped deadnaming me and misgendering me, and I suspect it was under threat of me kicking you out of my life forever. At least that stopped.

I was hopeful. I opened up about my hormones and surgeries I wanted and needed to get. To which you replied, "are you sure you want this?" and "I don't know if that's a good thing to do, you'll hurt your body. There are complications and risks" like I hadn't been doing research since I had access to the internet. I started being around you more. Hoping you changed. I told you about my autism and ADHD diagnosis.

But then I started talking politics and trans rights. Trans kids deserve gender affirming care and trans people deserve to have a normal life, have their care covered by insurance. For it to not be labeled as "cosmetic". Trans rights are human rights. You told me trans kids can get hurt by hormone blockers or they don't know what they're talking about. I told you JK Rowling is a TERF, and showed you tweets and articles and things she has said. To which your response "I just don't believe that." I told you people are trying to take our rights away. You didn't say or do anything about it except question me and say I don't know what I'm talking about. I was told "there's no way you have autism or ADHD." I had so much hope. I prayed and hoped that you had changed. But no.

You tell me how hard it is for you. All the changes I'm going through. That it feels like your child is being taken away. That you're mourning me. I understand change is difficult. I understand what you don't know is scary. But I'm not dead. I'm still here. Your daughter is here despite everything she's gone through.

And I'm so confused. The two of you are so nice and kind on the outside, to other people. But when what you know about the world gets questioned, you don't even stop to consider that you might be wrong. You're so kind in front of other people, respectful and courteous. But when it's just us, I barely hear you call me your daughter, and you don't stop with the "are you sure you're doing the right thing" and "it just feels like we're mourning you" and "it's so tough on us." You make it so hard to believe you.

When I expressed my needs of not being touched, Dad, you said I was being disrespectful and that because you're my father you should have consent to touch me. I always hated when you touched my clothes, or fixed something you thought was out of place. You never asked if it was okay. You never cared what I thought. Now when I tell you "don't touch me" or I am nonverbal and overstimulated and your touch physically hurts me, you say I'm disrespectful and hurting you. I tell you I'm not able to verbalize my needs all the time, and I'm disrespectful for showing you nonverbal ways of telling you. When I stood up for myself, I was being disrespectful. Fuck. You.

You say you're proud of me. You say you love me. I haven't believed you for years. Not a word. You lost that trust a long time ago.

So fine, if you want to mourn your son, that's fine. It's called a deadname for a reason. But I'll be here if you ever decide to look up and see your daughter.

So for now I'll play along. Try to rebuild that trust. Try to help you understand what's going on and keep you updated in my life. Be the kid you're mourning. The one who is being torn apart.

Allison, I know you'll read this. Hopefully one day I can show you everything I'm talking about here. One day I'll show you what I mean when I say I struggle with my parents. Maybe this already shines some light on the situation. I love you.

Mom and Dad, I don't know if I'll ever trust you. You haven't been my emergency contacts for years. I want to trust you. I want to love you. I want to have you in my life and have you in my support system. But I don't think you deserve that. Not yet.

Warm regards,

Your daughter, Morgan.

[unveiled-if]

Sorry for the radio silence!

A... Lot has been going on. Idk if I've ever told this but I work two jobs at the moment, one as a restaurant manager and other within the navy, and it's grinding me to the ground. I have exactly 1 day off during the week and that's spent sleeping and crying, you'll know more as you read. If you don't, I get it. It's a bit of a downer post.

But working is fine! I like being a busybody, and I love working for both places. BUT.

My back/leg/hip/lumbar's given out. I don't know if it's the worst case of sciatica known to mankind or what, but it's been going on since last November and getting worse by the day. I'm 25 and looking at a future in early retirement (AT UNDER 30), it's that bad, and even worse for my psyche. Painkillers don't help (prescription/OTC, what have you), muscle relaxants don't work, physio doesn't work, one doctor even injected some cortisone for a whole separate issue and wow, surprise, that didn't work. I'm so close to going to the ER and asking for an amputation at this point.

Now, I know sharing this is kinda TMI, but I feel like you deserve a reason, the transparency why I haven't gotten around to posting lately. I've just been working (literally) through the pain, gone home, ugly cried from the agony, and passed out just to repeat the whole shebang.

And I can't not work. I'm so deep in debt, you know, in Finnish standards. I know 13k is nothing compared to some, but here it's a lot if I can't keep working.

I'm sorry for oversharing, but this is my reality right now, and I'm at my wit's end. I can't sleep, I can barely get out of bed. I can't tie my shoes. I can't pick up my niece, and I can't go out to spend time with my friends without almost overdosing on painkillers just to move. Sometimes only alcohol helps, and I don't want to do that because of the addiction running in my genes.

I want to scream and cry and leave this body for a better one, but I can't, and if this keeps going I won't be able to do anything and it scares the shit out of me.

I know the doctors are doing their best, but of course there's bias when I'm so young. We have to go through all the plausible treatments before surgery is even considered. Plus, I'm from a tiny town. Getting an appointment takes months, and then it's the same things all over again.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not giving you the updates you deserve. I still listen to music that inspires me, and I do write down ideas, but I can't bring myself to write more than a paragraph, once a week.

I'm sorry for not interacting or being as chipper as I usually am. It's just too much for me to handle all at once, I am but one creature.

But I'll try to keep up a positive outlook. Finland is a good country, with good healthcare, and I trust them to help me so I can keep paying taxes haha.

Sorry for a long, useless post, but you deserve to know. And maybe I needed to get it off my chest. My family is already tired of listening to me complain anyway.

Love y'all forever 💜

[marinerainbow]

Ok it started off as an ask for @slashingdisneypasta. But it's been in my head all day, and now that Slashing made some incredible fanart for this silly AU, I'm now going to post about it. I have no clue where this will go, and I doubt too many people will take an interest in it, but it's way too much fun for me either way.

The Toon Medic AU

This AU is still new, so I'm still figuring things out. Perhaps Judge Doom made the boogle a medic team for toons instead of police. Maybe Smartass chose that they'll start running a hospital. Either way, the weasels are now not the most ethical of hospital staff.

Smartass is the head doctor. The only one in the building who might actually have a real license. He's still the boss around here, but he actually has to make sure his patients live. His fuse is pretty short from having to keep an eye on everything and everyone, and he's not afraid of holding back his attitude.

Every doctor needs an assistant nurse. Enter Greasy. The creepiest assistant you'll ever have the displeasure of meeting. It is with great dissapointnent that I tell you that policy won't stop this nurse from trying to get into the patients pants.

But what if someone comes in with more than a sprained wrist or an ailment? What if there's something worse lying underneath? Well, don't you worry, this hospital also has their very own surgeon! Though I warn you, Psycho can get a little too excited with the tools... Better hope that the head doctor won't be overbooked if you need surgery done.

Every clinic needs a clerk. How else can everything run so smoothly? Wheezy may look like he needs an intervention with his addiction, but he'll still get his job done right without supervision. Just be sure to hold your breath when you check in. Also pretty great with free therapy sessions, if you've got a smoke to spare.

Finally, everything needs to remain clean and sterile so no one gets any nasty surprise infections. Stupid is perfect for the job! Well, this was the only job he really could do in all honesty. He may break a few things here and there, but he'll make sure the operation rooms are ready for a new checkup on time.

Again, I have no idea what I'll do with this AU, but I'm still posting this. If you guys have questions for it, I'll be happy to answer them! ^^

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 19 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 1.8 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (18)

Next part (20)->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Keep You Warm

Smiling at Liam's little giggles, you keep hiding your face behind a pillow before pulling it away. The silly play has Liam laughing for minutes now, lying on his belly, holding his head up. You and Keanu are on your bed, with the baby in between the two of you.

“Where's the baby?” You ask, pillow covering your face. “There he is!” Pushing it away, you let him see your face again, and another giggle warms your heart. Liam is always happier when you and Keanu are together.

He turns his head away, to Keanu, before laying his head down. “He's tired.”

“God, I am tired.” Whining a little, you turn to lay on your back, looking at the ceiling. “I didn't get any sleep tonight.”

“Why?”

“Thinking a lot.” You decide to tell him, and you're sure it's quite obvious what you've been thinking about.

“You need to rest, beautiful.” Reaching out his hand, Keanu touches your cheek, and you don't push him away anymore. Or flinch. Or feel uncomfortable. You're slowly growing closer again, and it's happening through the last few weeks.

“I know but now...” Pushing yourself up, you sigh. “Laura wants to go shopping so I must accompany her.” Despite having no trouble looking after Liam 24/7, Keanu is still working less than usual, always from home, making sure you have time for yourself. “Will you be alright with Liam?”

“Sure. Go and buy something nice for you.”

“I don't need anything, Ke.” Getting off the bed, you blow Liam a kiss when he turns to look at you. “I'm still using your credit card so I'll only buy stuff I need.” Your job is still secure, thanks to your very awkward relationship with Keanu Reeves, but your doctors still haven't allowed you to go back. The headaches still happen, and some migraines have you basically knocked down in bed all day, in the dark, hoping it'll pass soon. So for now, Keanu is paying for everything you need.

“I'm telling you to buy something. See it as a gift.”

You can't help but smile as you make your way to the bathroom. “I won't spend your money for no reason.”

“And that's why I enjoy going to the mall with you.” He complains, and you can feel the eye roll. You know what he means. Keanu always manages to convince you to buy anything he sees you admiring for too long.

“I'll buy ice cream, maybe. Or a burger. God, it's been so long since I ate fast food.” The diet is still being followed, but today you'll drop it for a few hours.

“Don't go too crazy.” He warns as you peek your head into the bedroom, toothbrush in hand. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Shrugging your shoulders, you giggle. Keanu won't let you do anything the doctors say would be bad. He's still quite overprotective, and you find it very cute... But there's no way you'll let him know that.

Half an hour later you're off, kissing Liam's cheek and waving at Keanu as you get inside the cab. Hanging out with Laura, when she's shopping specifically, takes hours. So you not only get the ice cream and the burger, but you also have dinner at a restaurant at the mall.

You get back home too late, after ten, so you shower and feed Liam before rocking him to sleep. He's already sleeping in his bedroom and the only bad part is that you have to walk all the way there when he wakes up during the night. But other than that, he's adapting pretty well. After making sure he's on deep sleep, you leave him, carrying the baby monitor with you downstairs where you watch some TV. Laura said something that had you thinking.

She and Keanu have developed a friendship thanks to you, and whenever he doesn't know what to do when you're involved, he calls Laura. And she said he called her someday last week, asking if he was moving too slow or too fast with you. You don't think it's fast at all, he pretty much fell into the same thing he did when you first got here. Allowing you to set the pace, never pushing it, always putting you first.

You find it sweet that he calls her for help, since Laura knows you very well, from before and after the accident. She always tells you though, when he calls and tries her best to put you both on the right path. The one that leads to what you had before. Being together, only this time it would be real.

Taking a deep breath, you can't take the cold anymore, so you turn the TV off and head upstairs, tiptoeing. Rubbing both your arms, you shiver as you walk through the hell. A sudden clicking noise startles you, and your eyes immediately move to Keanu's bedroom, finding him by the door. “Hey.”

“Is everything alright?” Always worried.

“Yes. I was watching TV.” Shyly, you make your way over him, standing before the man. You'll never get used to how tall he is, and you can never ignore how much you like being so smaller compared to him. “But it's really cold.” You manage to say, nervously giggling because you shouldn't think these things. Not anymore. And not until whatever this is, gets a name. “Look.” In a quick motion, meaning to annoy him a little, you sneak both your hands under his shirt, touching his abdomen. Keanu flinches a little, a low chuckle leaving his lips.

But then you realize what you just did, how you have your hands against his body. Blushing and looking down, you clear your throat. “Sorry.” You whisper, starting to take your hands off Keanu when he grabs both your wrists, forcing you to stop.

“Wait until your hands are warm.” His voice is so low you have to pay attention to bring sense to his words.

You really shouldn't... But you can feel the heat irradiating from his skin, and you're so damn close it feels like you're a magnet, being pulled towards him.

And so you move, stepping forward, hands sliding from his abdomen all the way to his back, your fingertips taking in the sensation of touching his skin again. Then you're hugging him, head on his chest as his strong arms hold you close, tightly against his body as if he's scared you could run away at any moment.

You should, but you won't. Being this close to Keanu is inebriating, like an addiction, and you've been self-restraining for far too long. You need his touch, his body. Him.

Eyes closed, you stand on your toes, moving so your face is close to his. When his lips brush on yours, it feels like fireworks start exploding on your stomach, and you know you won't be able to step back now. And when he softly starts pulling you inside, you have no choice but to follow him.

But when he moves away a little, to close the door, you snap, falling back to reality. “I can't, Ke... I can't.” You mutter, holding his arm as he comes to stand before you again. “I thought we were married back then, and we're not so... I just can't until...” Until what? Would Keanu make it real? A real marriage, give you his surname. So you'd be truly his, and he'd be yours?

“We don't have to.” He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Just stay here. Let me keep you warm.”

His voice has power over you, so you nod, letting him guide you to the bed, where you climb on after putting the baby monitor on the nightstand. But your eyes are searching for his lips in the dark, longing to at least look at them, as the memories of the many kisses come back, from the first, next to his new bike, to the very last, in Liam's birth.

“Ke...” You whisper, pleading.

“What?” He remains seated, as you sit on your legs, the darkness hiding your heated cheeks.

“Kiss me.” You beg, feeling some tears filling your eyes. You love Keanu, and it hurts to keep this distance. “Like before. Just... Just kiss me as if none of this mess ever happened. As if we belong to each other.”

Keanu doesn't wait for you to say anything else, he just moves, big hands delicately pulling your legs until they're laying over his. Then, his lips come crashing down on yours, and by the fast pace, the need and heat, you can tell he was suffering too, longing for this moment.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you part your lips a little more, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You forgot how amazing he tastes, and you know now that you won't be able to go through long periods without kissing him. It's like a matter of life and death. Like a bare necessity.

When you pull away to breathe, Keanu lies down and you do the same, facing each other. His arms don't let you go, keeping you as close as possible. “We do belong to each other.” He says, softly rubbing the small of your back. “At least I do, (Y/N), you have my whole heart, it's yours.”

“I love you, Ke. You know I do and everything I want is to leave the past behind. I forgive you.” Grabbing a fist full of the soft fabric of his shirt, you feel some tears rolling down. “I forgive you.”

“Be my wife, (Y/N).” He bursts out, and it makes you look into his eyes. “I love you, (Y/N). I want what we had to be real.”

“Yes.” You mutter, more tears rolling down. “I want to be your wife, Ke.” Kissing him again, you only stop when Liam's soft cries reach your ears.

“Someone's hungry,” Keanu says, already getting off the bed. “I'll bring him here.”

“Alright.” Moving into a seated position, you smile to yourself.

This isn't how you thought the night would end, but it's far better than anything you could've imagined.

It doesn't take long until Keanu is back, giving you Liam as you pull down your shirt and bra. You can't help but smile at how respectfully Keanu averts his eyes. Liam quickly starts sucking, eyes shutting close. “Ke, I... I will tell Liam about Daniel, but... You know you're his father, right?” You decide to say it because it's true. Daniel couldn't be here, and Keanu has been taking care of both you and Liam since the beginning. And you know he'll keep doing so. “I want you to be his father. I know he's not yours, but–”

“I love him as if he's my own.” He cuts you off, moving closer and caressing Liam's cheek. “And I'll take care of both of you, for the rest of my life.”

Smiling, you pull him close, kissing him once again.

For the first time since this mess began, you feel at ease. Truly happy. And Laura was right. It's far better to let things go and chose what makes your heart happy. And you're glad you had it in you to finally step and make this decision.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303 @june-harris

[librarycards]

as a psychiatric survivor who has only recently gone through the process of recontextualizing my experiences through the lens of mad pride, i've been running into difficulties when trying to decide whether or not to disclose my psychiatric history in medical settings which have little to do with psychiatry. for example, before a recent surgery, i was asked about my psychiatric history. disclosing my history makes me uncomfortable for numerous reasons. do you have any advice for navigating this?

thank you so much for the message! i'm going to be honest - there's no simple, risk-free, or uniformly good answer to this, and many of the decisions you make regarding disclosure will likely be on-the-spot and highly contextual. that said, i'll give you a couple scenarios and let you know what I'd do.

so, to begin with your surgery example: i've had two gender-affirming surgical procedures. during both, i had to disclose a reason for taking the medications i was on; i supplied the least-threatening, most milquetoast ~anxiety and depression~ type answer possible. this, i felt, was especially important given the nature of my surgeries & the devaluation of transMad knowledge.

likewise, when i was in the hospital this summer for my broken pelvis, i gave the most basic answer possible, though my treatment –– as someone whose injury was totally outside psychiatric bounds –– was completely different. i recommend giving the least-stigmatized answer possible for required questions about your medications (this is important if you're going to be put on more meds, obviously). speaking of: know that disclosing Madness will make it harder to get and maintain pain meds. i disclosed maybe 2% of my brainstuff to my PT this summer and was instantly labeled a High Risk Drug Abuser™ and my supply of oxy was limited. if I was, or had any history as, an addict, i would have had to endure unbearable pain for weeks. here, lying is life-saving.

in terms of past hospitalizations/programs, i also condone lying, though sometimes your existing medical records will make that impossible.

you might also need to disclose aspects of your history if you'll be receiving a potentially triggering procedure and need the provider to be aware of your needs, e.g., a survivor receiving a gynecological exam. if you feel unsafe doing so, it often works to just say, "ugh, i hate getting ____" or similar. some people just don't like things, and if your dr has like any basic humanity left, they'll try to make it quick and as painless as possible. they will likely respond better to a non-Mad complaint ("i just don't like it") than a Mad one.

in terms of regular doctor's/specialist's visits - i tend to conceal. i am fortunate at the moment to have two general practitioners who are explicitly pro- harm reduction and pro- informed consent. they know more about my bodymind situation than i'd tell the average doctor, but i also maintain my privacy. i tend to run things through a "how dire does this sound to outsiders" detector before making these sorts of decisions, and when i decide to share anyway, i err on the side of vagueness. the only time i'd really recommend divulging this stuff in detail is if you actively wanted to be in a treatment program or to be prescribed a medication.

and you likely already know this, but: if you are asked any variation of the 'danger to yourself or others' / self-harm / suicide question. SAY NO. unless you want to be incarcerated.

[fratboykate]

the doc who did her nose job doesn't get enough credit. im deadass not trying to shade because im all about anyone getting those nips and tucks they want whenever they want. as long as it doesnt slip into addiction im one of the biggest "treat yo'self" proponents when it comes to body modifications you'll ever find if its going to make people feel better and more confident. as someone who lives in a city where maybe 1/4 of the population has some sort of body alteration, ive been saying for yearsssssss that she has one of the best nose jobs ive ever seen but i always forget just how fucking good it is until i see side by side pictures of her when she was younger vs. post surgery. if i was her surgeon i wouldnt even have business cards. id just carry her before and after pictures because this shit is flawwwweless. that was worth every single penny

[bubblefeind]

Deppression and "Medicine"

(\0◇0/)

"IDK this long word on my prescription bottle"

I genuinely believe that the government does not care about anything but $$, including the future (YOU AND ME) they prescribe us medicine (Drugs) that are strong and addictive Our brains aren't even fully developed until were in our mid 20s but they know this(which is evil). During this stage of your life drugs,sex,alcohol & ect...are easy to be addicted to Which means you'll be a loyal customer/slave forever if you are mind controlled. Doctors prescribe drugs to people who have a injury or a surgery of sort they're only supposed to take it during their healing stages after that no more "medicine" how they like to call it but now you have a fix aka an addiction. You can't stop cold turkey or you'll get withdraw

who knows what drug you took? it could've been straight up heroine but you dont know that because it's a huge ass different word on the bottle and maybe you trust your doctor. I feel like teens need to be cautious around anything that could be addicting especially around Xans ask questions and be aware. These pills are not the solution to a permanent problem.

ｂｌｖｋ－ｋｕｎｏｉｃｈｉ🕸

[dani-innyc]

"I know.. I have a feeling in gonna be a whale soon." Riley chuckled as she rubbed her growing belly, she was really excited to be a mother so it was a relief that Dani was excited too since she needed her sister's support. "Oh I dont doubt you'll be an awesome aunt and once they're old enough we'll come visit and maybe you could come to New York." She suggested hoping Dani would if it was for her.

"You still have a while to go so don't get to excited." She joked looking down at her belly. Dani would have been a few more months farther along but she knew what happened was for the best, she wouldnt have been able to have her pimps baby, especially since it would have been born addicted to drugs like she was. "I'm going go spoil the fuck out of them, and video chat you and the baby all the time so they grow up getting to know me." She smiled but it faltered at the mention of her going to New York, it just dawned on her that she would be missing the birth of the baby. "I don't know, it's not easy for me to travel and uh.." Dani had appointments booked to talk to doctors about the surgeries she needed soon as well but talking to Riley about that wasn't something she wanted to do, she wasn't sure what to tell Riley.

It’s Not Where You Come From - Dani and Riley

Dani collapsed down on the couch and handed Riley the bowl of buttery popcorn she had requested, or more like begged and demanded. Pregnancy cravings - that’s what she claimed but Dani thought that was an excuse so her sister could get whatever she minded, which she didn’t mind in this case. “What movie we watching?” She asked her sister while grabbing a handful of popcorn.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 12 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.2 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (11)

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

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Honeymoon

Keanu silently enters the bedroom, his eyes immediately finding her, on the balcony. With her hands on the glass railing, her attention is on the beach outside. He struggled a lot to rent this house, but he wanted the best for her. It's beautiful, slightly isolated for privacy, and if they walk out the back door, they'll be with their feet on the sand.

He doesn't want to think much about what comes after this trip. He only prays that what's left of these two weeks will go by slowly, so he'll have more time with her before... Before whatever comes next. (Y/N) doesn't know the reason for all his schedules, the reason behind all these places he's taking her. She lived her childhood here, in a neighborhood half an hour from this house. Keanu had to ask Laura for help, to know the places to go. Laura doesn't think he should tell her yet, but he can't do this anymore. He can't do this to her.

The wind messes with her hair, and he's happy the weather helped. The sky is clear, in an amazing shade of blue with only a few clouds that make it look like a painting. Taking his phone from his pocket, he snaps a picture of her, and the clicking noise gives away his presence, and (Y/N) turns around, a smile on her lips.

“What are you doing?” She asks, making her way back inside the bedroom, walking over until she's standing before him, head raised to look into his eyes.

“You're so beautiful, I had to take a picture.” A picture he'll keep, to mend his broken heart when this is over.

“Then why do you look so sad?” The question makes him realize he's been letting it show. And that's not supposed to happen.

“I'm not. I'm so happy to be here with you that I can't even put it in words.” It makes her smile grow brighter, and Keanu feels like he could live the rest of his days just looking at her.

“So am I.” She grabs his sides, hands full of the fabric of his shirt. (Y/N) always does that, like she's asking for his attention. As if she didn't have all of it. But he finds it cute, and it never fails to warm up his heart. “Where are we going today?”

“We're staying home. The doctors said to take things slow, remember?” With a hand, he cups her cheek, thumb rubbing her soft skin.

“But it's only been three days and I'm completely fine.”

“I know. But will it be so bad to stay in today? With me?” The words make her giggle, as she tiptoes, beautiful, pink lips chasing his.

“It would be amazing, as are all my days with you.” Bending down, he kisses her, the taste of her lips almost too much for him to deal with. Overwhelming, inebriating. And Keanu is addicted. If only she was his. Truly, completely his, to love and cherish, for the rest of his life...

You move to the bed with Keanu, and you quickly settle down. But you're not in the mood to just lie there, and since he doesn't want to take you out, it's the perfect day to do something fun in the house. “I have an idea.” Smirking, you climb on him, straddling his hips with each arm on the sides of his head. This is always a funny position since Keanu is a lot taller than you. Staring him from above is a nice change.

“Let's hear it.”

“There's a pool here so... We should go for a swim.” Keanu raises his eyebrows, a little surprised since you can't swim at all. But that's not where the whole idea ends. “Naked.”

“What?” The funny expression on his face makes you giggle. “Say that again.”

“Let's swim naked.” Sitting up straight, you shrug your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, you know drones exist right? The chances are small but never zero.” Keanu lightly holds your hips. “But we can go to the pool in normal swimsuits and take a bath in the tub after. And then get naked.”

“Uhm...” Looking away, you fake a thoughtful face. “The whole point is to get naked so why don't we just skip the pool and hit the tub?” Without waiting for an answer, you get off the bed, giving him a look before heading to the bathroom. You can't hold back the smile when you hear him following you.

•••

With you back resting against Keanu's chest, you relax in the warm water, even though the temperature is lowering. You have both your hands on your belly as Keanu places soft kisses on your neck and shoulder. You're still catching your breath, but you'll never tell him you get more tired with time. It's the baby, the doctors said, it's normal to feel a bit more tired than normal as time passes.

“So we have decided on the name.” He says, and you nod. “Sophie or Liam.”

“Sophie or Liam Reeves.” You agree, testing how the names sound. “I can't wait to find out which name we'll be using.”

“Me neither.”

Smiling, you feel a funny sensation. Like a pressure, a movement. Quickly, you place your hand on the right side of your belly, bellow the bellybutton, suddenly worried, and just about to tell Keanu something's wrong when you feel it. A soft, little kick under your hand. “Oh my God.” You mumble, barely able to hear yourself.

“What? What's wrong?”

Without saying anything, you take his hand, placing it on the right spot, hoping, waiting the baby will do it again, apprehension forcing both of you into silence. Then, you feel it, and you turn your head a little to look into his eyes. Keanu looks... Amazed. Blissful.

“Our baby is kicking, Ke.” You whisper, unable to hold back the smile.

“I love you.” He says, eyes set in yours, right before repeating the sentence to your swollen stomach. “And I love you too.”

Turning back around, you lie against him once more, hands above his. “I can't believe it. This amount of happiness is... Unbelievable.”

“You're beautiful, do you know that?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, you chuckle, cheeks heating up. “Why that now?”

“I just need you to know.”

Taking a deep breath, you move, once again straddling his hip, making small ripples on the water. “And you are so unbelievably handsome sometimes I wonder if you're real.” Running a hand through his jaw, you feel his stubble under your fingertips. “I love your beard. And your hair.” As you speak, you distribute kisses through his face. “Your face, your body, your voice. The kindness, gentleness, and honesty.” Keanu suddenly moves underneath you, as if bit by something. “What?”

“Nothing, beautiful. It's nothing.” Smiling, he kisses your lips. “Wanna take a walk on the beach?”

“Mhmm.” You agree, kissing him once again before standing up and leaving the tub, grabbing a towel. You're not anxious this time, eager to cover up. You feel comfortable around Keanu, and even if sometimes you still feel self-conscious, he's always there to reassure you he finds you beautiful. So it's not a problem anymore, to let him see your body. “I'll wear that dress you bought me.” You say, letting your hair down from the loose bun as you dry yourself.

“I'm sure you'll look gorgeous.”

“Maybe.” You mutter, winking at him before leaving the bathroom.

Half an hour later you're seating shotgun as Keanu drives through a cute street with colorful houses. You snap some pictures of the place, wondering why he took this route. Probably he thought you'd like the neighborhood, and he was right. “It's beautiful here.” You tell him, stealing a glance.

“It is.” After the short answer, he goes silent again for some seconds. “Let's stop here.”

“Alright.” He parks the car and you jump out, immediately kicking your shoes off and starting to walk on the sand.

“Do you want an ice cream?” Keanu asks, gesturing at a small store nearby.

“Yup.” Nodding, you smile as he tells you he'll be right back.

Moving closer to the water, a hand holding your sandals and the other keeping the hair off your face, you let the ripples reach your feet. The water is a bit cold, but you enjoy it.

“(Y/N)?” An unfamiliar voice calls, and you immediately turn at the source of the sound. A short, blond-haired guy is smiling at you, a hand protecting his eyes from the sun. “(Y/N), I... I heard about you but I didn't believe it.”

“Uhm... Sorry. Do I know you?”

The question lights up his face with recognition. “Oh, yeah. For a moment I forgot about the accident. I'm Michael. We were friends when we were younger. We went to Elementary school together.”

Your existence is not a mystery anymore. The news channel already showed your face more than once, and some magazines and online blogs talk about you every once in a while. Keanu Reeves' secret wife, with a child on the way. So it's not really a secret anymore. “I have a childhood friend in New York. Do you happen to know her name?” You decide to check since Laura has been your friend since kinder garden.

“Laura Marshal. I remember her.” The man rubs his neck, squinting his eyes. “We dated for like a month.”

“So you're that Michael.” Smiling, you offer your hand and he happily shakes it. “Sorry for not remembering.”

“No, don't even say that. What happened to you sucks. I mean, the accident.” He speaks fast, and you giggle.

“No need to sugar coat it. You can talk openly about the memory loss, I'm alright with it.”

“Yeah. But after I heard about the accident, which was horrible, let's make this clear, I couldn't believe what the news channels were saying about you and Keanu freaking Reeves.” Michael says his name in a lower voice, stepping closer as if telling a secret.

“Well, nobody knew about the marriage because we wanted to keep it private for as long as we could.” That's always the question that follows. People still find it insane how you just came out of nowhere, being Keanu's wife. “But with everything that happened, accident, memory, the baby, it would be quite difficult to keep it in the shadows.”

He makes a funny face, furrowing his eyebrows. “But that's not it, Uhm... Weren't you with Daniel?”

The name doesn't sound too strange, and after some seconds, you remember Lucia saying something about a Daniel... Yeah, she asked if you were considering the name for the baby and if it meant anything to you. “I don't know anything about a Daniel. Was he my friend too?”

“(Y/N), you and Daniel were–” Michael stops talking suddenly, eyes on something behind you. At someone.

Chuckling, you know who he's staring at. Turning around, you smile at Keanu. “Hey, babe. Come meet my friend, Michael.”

“Holy shit.” The guy mutters under his breath.

“I think he might need a selfie.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take the ice cream from his hands and start licking it.

“Hi. It's nice to meet you.” Your husband politely says, shaking Michael's hand. “You want a picture?”

“Please. I love Matrix. It's like my favorite movie. I'm such a big fan.”

Rolling your eyes, you take Michael's phone and snaps a couple of pictures of him and Keanu. The afternoon passes by with you three chatting. Michael is still quite impressed to be seeing Keanu face to face, and it makes you giggle every once in a while. When the night starts to fall, you say goodbye and head back to the house.

The trip does have this honeymoon style. It's just you and Keanu most of the time, even though Michael introduces you to two more people, Amanda and Kyle, who also claim to know you. Your husband eventually said that you grew up in this town, and he wanted you to see it. It does make you a little sad that you don't remember any of it, but Keanu soon makes you forget these thoughts. He's always so kind and loving, you didn't think it was possible to fall further in love with him, but that's exactly what happens.

Somehow you managed to convince your husband on staying one more week. It took some begging and creativity, and of course, some video calls with your doctors, but it worked in the end.

But the day comes when you're packing your things, just about to head off to the airport. You just finished with your baggage and answered a call from Michael, who wanted to say goodbye and ask you to bring Laura next time. You happily agree before hanging up, and that's when you remember the person he mentioned. The same Lucia made a big deal of. Waiting for Keanu to finish his shower, you scroll through your phone, eyes moving to the bathroom door when it opens.

“Hey, Ke.” You mutter, getting up to your feet. “Do you know someone named Daniel?” At the mention of the name, Keanu gets tense. You notice he tries to hide it, but it's crystal clear to you. It just makes everything stranger. “Michael mentioned a Daniel and so did Lucia.”

“Yeah, I know...” He mutters, avoiding your gaze.

“Ke, you're scaring me. Who the hell is this Daniel?”

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