#find doctor job online

[mumintroll]

i got annoyed at my mam for thinking i have pcos but actually recent developments make me think i do have it yayyy another problem to the pile

[chitin-crusader]

kindof losing my mind bc uhhhh. how am i supposed to like. afford to live.

[theamazingannie]

Saw someone on Twitter complaining that tv shows and books and such made during modern times often don’t depict anything having to do with the pandemic and how it’s some big conspiracy about pandemic denial and I can understand why someone would think that considering all the denial irl but personally I don’t want to depict Covid in my work because the pandemic completely affected so many aspects of our lives and by depicting it in my work I’d have to completely change so many parts of my stories because there’s no way the events would go as planned if there was a pandemic happening and I’ve been writing these stories for YEARS, since before the pandemic, and I don’t want to change anything and even if the work was new, how do you incorporate this huge life event into your story without it taking away all the focus?

[astral-catastrophe]

ough

[wandringbark]

this is in no way an original thought but fuck the us healthcare system. fuck this shit to hell

[saltinesinsoup]

it would be so cool if like. my muscles could just work normally and not hurt

[fatehbaz]

Today, as you read this [...], there are almost 2 million people locked away in one of the more than 5,000 prisons or jails that dot the American landscape. While they are behind bars, these incarcerated people can be found standing in line at their prison’s commissary waiting to buy some extra food or cleaning supplies that are often marked up to prices higher than what one would pay outside of those prison walls. [...] If they want to call a friend or family member, they need to pay for that as well. And almost everyone who works at a job while incarcerated, often for less than a dollar an hour, will find that the prison has taken a portion of their salary to pay for their cost of incarceration. [...] These policymakers and government officials also know that this captive population has no choice but to foot the bill [...] and that if they can’t be made to pay, their families can. In fact, a 2015 report led by the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights, Forward Together, and Research Action Design found that in 63 percent of cases, family members on the outside were primarily responsible for court-related costs [...].

Rutgers sociology professor Brittany Friedman has written extensively on what is called “pay-to-stay” fees in American correctional institutions. In her 2020 article titled, “Unveiling the Necrocapitalist Dimensions of the Shadow Carceral State: On Pay-to-Stay to Recoup the Cost of Incarceration,��� Friedman divides these fees into two categories: (1) room and board and (2) service-specific costs. Fees for room and board -- yes, literally for a thin mattress or even a plastic “boat” bed in a hallway, a toilet that may not flush, and scant, awful tasting food -- are typically charged at a “per diem rate for the length of incarceration.” It is not uncommon for these fees to reach $20 to $80 a day for the entire period of incarceration. The second category, what Friedman refers to as “service-specific costs,” includes fees for basic charges such as copays or other costs for seeing a doctor or nurse, programming fees, email and telephone calls, and commissary items. 

In 2014, the Brennan Center for Justice documented that at least 43 states authorize charging incarcerated people for the cost of their own imprisonment, and at least 35 states authorize charging them for some medical expenses. More recent research from the Prison Policy Institute found that 40 states and the federal prison system charge incarcerated people medical copays. 

It’s also critical to understand how little incarcerated people are paid for their labor in addition to the significant cut of their paltry hourly wages that corrections agencies take from their earnings. Nearly two-thirds (65 percent) of incarcerated people work behind bars. According to the Prison Policy Initiative, those who work regular jobs in prisons such as maintaining the grounds, working in the kitchen, and painting the walls of the facilities earn on average between $0.14 and $0.63 an hour. [...] Arkansas and Texas don’t pay incarcerated workers at all, while Alabama only pays incarcerated workers employed by the state’s correctional industry. [...]

For example, if someone sends an incarcerated person in Florida $20 online, they will end up paying $24.95. [...]

Dallas County charges incarcerated people a $10 medical care fee for each medical request they submit. In Texas prisons, those behind bars pay $13.55 per medical visit, despite the fact that Texas doesn’t pay incarcerated workers anything. Texas is one of a handful of states that doesn’t pay incarcerated people for their labor. 

In Kentucky’s McCracken County Jail in Paducah, it costs $0.40 a minute for a video call; this translates into $8.00 for each 20-minute video call. [...] For those who need to use email, JPay charges $2.35 for five emails for people in the Texas prison system ($0.47 an email). [...]

People in Florida prisons pay $1.70 for a packet of four extra-strength Tylenol and $4.02 for four tampons. And with inflation, commissary items are priced higher than ever. For example, according to the Kentucky Center for Investigative Reporting, incarcerated people in Kentucky experienced a 7.2 percent rise in already-high commissary prices in July 2022. Researchers noted that a 4.6-ounce tube of Crest toothpaste, which costs $1.38 at the local Walmart, is $3.77 at the prison commissary. [...]

In Gaston County, North Carolina, incarcerated individuals who participate in state work release may make more than the state’s $0.38 an hour maximum pay, but they pay the jail a daily rate based on their yearly income of at least $18 per day and up to $36 per day. In fact, Brennan Center research indicates that almost every state takes a portion of the salary that incarcerated workers earn to compensate the corrections agency [...].

These room and board fees are found throughout the nation’s jails and prisons. Michigan laws allow any county to seek reimbursement for expenses incurred in relation to a charge for which a person was sentenced to county jail time -- up to $60 a day. Winnebago County, Wisconsin, charges $26 a day to those staying in its county jail.

---

Text by: Lauren-Brooke Eisen. “America’s Dystopian Incarceration System of Pay to Stay Behind Bars.” Brennan Center for Justice. 19 April 2023. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[hyper-pixels]

How to Grow Up

A guide on how to grow up. It was originally posted by @/friendliness but half the links were broken. So I took what links weren't broken and added other links and more things to know.

This is USA based resources

Personal

Reasons to Stay Alive – A Tumblr post of 116 reasons to stay alive by @/friendliness.

How to Get Better At Asking for Help – Website is Harvard Business Review. The article is “5 Ways to Get Better At Asking for Help” by Wayne Baker.

What to do if you Can’t Afford Therapy – Website is Psych Central and the article is by Steven Rowe.

How to Quit Smoking – “The 22 Best Ways to Quit Smoking” by Debra L. Gordon and David L. Katz M.D. from the Healthy Digest.

How to Legally Change your Name – Website is Forbes.

Wanna Learn Something New? – A Tumblr post made by @/hamletthedane with various new things to try from language learning to ballet.

Free Harvard Courses – Harvard University’s free online courses.

Getting a New Computer? – A quick and dirty comprehensive guide by WIRED on what to look for.

How to Sew – Website is Autodesk Indestructibles. The article is “How to Sew” by Jessyratfink. Having a small sewing kit (that you can pick up from nearly any craft store) is super handy and has saved my life and clothes.

What to Look For in Clothes A YouTube video by Alyssa Beltempo titled “How to Identify High Quality vs. Poor Quality Clothing | Slow Fashion”. Here’s a WikiHow [x] if a YouTube video isn’t your style.

Dealing with Executive Dysfunction – A Tumblr post made by @/compassionatereminders. It's a list to more links on how to deal with executive dysfunction.

Another List Like this One – A Tumblr post made by a now deactivated account. It's a list much like this one.

Home

What’s a mortgage? – Website is realtor.com and the page is called “What is a Mortgage? Home Loan Basics Explained” by Cathie Ericson.

First Apartment Checklist – A checklist PDF. Here’s another link to a Tumblr checklist [x] 

What to Ask Landlords Before Renting? – “25 Questions To Ask a Landlord When Renting a Home” by Morgen Henderson.

What’s Renter’s Insurance? – Website is Forbes Advisor. The article is by Jason Metz and titled “How to Get Renters Insurance”.

Plant Care – A master list of how to care for plants made by @/difficults

Job

Time Management – Website is Entrepenuer and has 10 time management tips. One I personally recommend is keeping a physical calendar book on hand. I keep mine in my bag with a designated pen.

Finding the right job – Website is The Muse and it has 13 free career assessment tests.

Make a resume – Website is Resume Now. Many hirers look at your name, the middle of the page (where your experience list is) and skim the rest.

Job Interview Tips – Website is Linkedin. The article is titled “10 Job Interview Tips to Land The Career of Your Dreams” by Caren Merrick.

How to Write a Cover Letter – Website is The Writing Center. University of Winsconsin, Madison. It’s titled “Writing Cover Letters” and I can’t find the author.

Money

Couponing! – Website is Coupon Database :: Southern Savers. It has a list of mobile apps for coupons to places.

Call 211 for Help – the website leads to 211.org. It's anonymous and can help you get connected to food programs, paying bills and things like doctor appointments. Here’s a Tumblr post about it [x] by @/poessionisamyth

Groceries! – This is a Tumblr meme post, but scrolling through tags/reblogs/replies and there’s plenty of good tips. The post is by @/charlotten

What To Do if You Can’t Pay Your Bills – Website is Nolo. The article is “When You Can’t Pay Your Bills: Thiings To Know” that was updated by Amy Loftsgordon. 

Are You Paying Too Much for Your Phone Bill? – An article by Beht Beverman titled “How Much is Too Much to Pay for a Cell Phone Bill?”.

54 Ways to Save Money – Website is America Saves.

How to Do Taxes – Website is Wiki-How.

The 70/20/10 Method – Website is Business Insider. The Article is “A Beginners Guide to the 70-20–10 Budgeting Method” by Paul Kim.

Side Hustle Ideas – Website is Forbes. “30 Side Hustle Ideas To Make Extra Money In 2024” by Krista Fabregas.

Emergency

Your Rights When a Cop Pulls you Over – Website is Business Insider. Cops are allowed to lie to you, and they will, so be careful.

Hotline List – The website is DoSomething.org. Depression/Suicide, domestic abuse, child abuse and runaway/homeless/and at-risk youth hotlines.

What to Keep in Your Car – Website is MentalFloss. I live in a snowy area that gets blizzards and bad ice. I keep blankets, water and other aids in my car as well as a knife and road flare. I also own a self jumping car battery and it has saved my ass more than once. Heimlich Maneuver – A one minute video by the Mayo Clinic.

The Heimlich Maneuver on Yourself – A one minute video by The List Show TV.

What to Keep in Your Wallet – Website is PureWow. The article is by Rachel Bowie. Keep your drivers license, medical insurance card, and an emergency contact in your card. If you have a pet home alone make sure that you have a card detailing this. Free printable one here [x]

Traveling

Packing List – Website is Smarter Travel.

Traveling with Little to No Money – Website is Nomadic Matt.

How to Pack a Suitcase – Website is Real Simple. The article is by Thersa O’Rourke.

How to Apply for a Passport – Website is WikkiHow.

Making a Travel Budget – Website is Travel Made Simple. “How to Make a Travel Budget” by Ali Garland

[trippinsorrows]

ltye + sick days

authors note: oneshot inspired by this wonderful ask . this is purely canon and actually takes place a lil bit into the future. not too long after chapter 23, so let's say a couple weeks after solana has been home from the hospital.

might or might not have one or two things sprinkled in this here one......

gif by @romanreigns

warnings: none, really. just roman being roman.

words: 4.3k

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

It started with irritability. More so than usual. Not towards her, per se. Never towards her. Just in general. 

An increase in snippy comments, harsher gazes, and more yelling that traveled from the confines of his office and soon made its way to the sanctuary of their kitchen, often fighting with the music Solana usually had playing. 

And then there was the fatigue. Solana has always thought Roman doesn’t get enough sleep, for a variety of reasons. But, rarely does he lag. Does she visibly see the difficulty he’s having in seizing the day. And for the most part, he does a phenomenal job, making it, pushing through as he kisses her cheek and leaves for the day.

But, she sees it.

And finally, when she’s awoken by a set of hoarse, painful sounding coughs. Solana just knows. Not the specifics, just the general, overall consensus.

That Roman is sick.

Not that he wants to believe or acknowledge that anyway.

Hand to his forehead, she doesn’t need a thermometer to know that he’s burning up.

"What’s your doctor’s name and number?" Solana moves to grab her phone off the bathroom counter, unlocking it and looking up at Roman expectantly. "Well?"

Of course, he only rolls his eyes and slips into a state of avoidance. "Solana, I don’t need—"

"Roman, you’re sick. You’ve been sick the past couple days, and it’s not getting any better." She reaches for his hand, turning it over, feeling on his palm. She then moves her two fingers to his wrist, eyes closing for a good minute. She then places her hand over his heart and asks, "are you having any pain in your chest? Sharp pains? Shortness of breath? I’ve noticed the fatigue and obviously the cough and fever. Any chills?"

"Solana—"

"I’m trying to see if you have any symptoms of pneumonia. Could also be the flu."

"Or, a cold."

"Maybe, but I want to find out for sure." Her expression softens, lips moving downward into a small frown. "The doctor, Ro…….please."

And she’s certain it’s that last 'please', the way her voice dips into a different level of concern that wins him over. That gets him to give her the requested information, Solana arranging it so that his doctor is over at the house in a little under an hour.

Dr. Michaels examination is a matter of minutes before he’s sharing with both patient and patient’s wife. “Yup. It’s definitely the flu.”

Roman looks annoyed, meanwhile Solana is a combination of relieved and worried. She shifts into protective mode, asking, “so antiviral medications, right? Probably Xofluza? Less side effects. Single dose. Unless it counteracts with his high blood pressure medication?”

Solana’s unexpected medical expertise takes both Roman and Dr. Michaels by surprise, the latter cracking a small smile as he asks, genuinely curious, “you in the medical field?”

Her eyes widen a bit. “No. No. I–my mom was, and she taught me a lot, and I just—I’ve read a lot.” More than the average person. Solana would spend hours on end reading medical journals, watching online lectures, finding free online courses on various medical topics.

It also became a bit of a necessity when her father stopped taking her to the hospital, and she had to learn to tend to her own injuries.

But that.....that doesn't really need to be stated.

Shawn chuckles. “You should be.” Roman doesn’t say anything, but he agrees. “You know more than some of my students.” Solana’s cheeks redden as she looks down, clearly unsure of how to take such a compliment as Dr. Michaels returns his focus to Roman. “The Mrs. is right. I’m gonna call you in some medication, Xofluza, as she stated. And again, like she said, it’s a single dose, which means you only have to take it once, which with you, makes it more likely for you to actually follow through with taking it.”

“He’ll take it,” Solana chimes, nodding to both herself and the two men before. “I’ll—I’ll make sure.” 

Again, the doctor looks impressed, smile widening. “I like her, Reigns. Don’t fuck it up.” Roman looks increasingly irritated, as Shawn hits Solana with an unexpected question, “you wouldn’t happen to have a guess as to what dosage I’m prescribing, do ya?”

Solana is obviously taken back for a second but doesn’t skip a beat as she thinks back onto all of her reading and research. “He’s an adult, and because of his weight, the 80mg?”

The doctor makes a sound, shaking his head as he types on his tablet. “Tell you what, you ever decide to enter the field, let me know. I will personally assist you with anything you need.” Solana doesn’t know what to make of that, doesn’t know how to take an actual medical professional, someone who has an abundance of accolades and degrees behind his name speaking so highly of her, someone with only a high school diploma. It’s flattering, to say the least. 

“Thank you.” She clears her throat, shaking her head, getting back to the main issue at hand. “He needs to rest, right? Lots of liquids. Motrin or Tylenol, if he needs it.”

Dr. Michaels closes the cover over the screen of his laptop, directing his comment to Roman. “You’re definitely in great hands, Big Guy.”

The Tribal Chief doesn’t disagree with that. Doesn’t disagree with that at all. 

—------

Roman has always noticed Solana has a caretaker type of personality. That she cares about others and likes to help when and how she can. Truthfully, it’s one of the many things he loves about her. Her heart. She’s the most empathetic person he’s ever met.

But, what’s new for him is being so deeply on the receiving end of that caretaking. He’s experienced it with her patching him up after War Games and the night he attacked her father and brother. Maybe even in the way she stays tops of him with his high blood pressure medication, but never to this extent.

Starting with her actually stipulating shit.

He’s in the room, dressing himself when she walks in having returned from the pharmacy with his medication.

She suddenly stops and asks, "what....what are you doing?"

“Getting ready for work,” he answers it so simply, so easily, like it’s the most basic thing he could ever say. “Just have to—”

“Roman, you can’t go to work.”

He turns to look at her, having just pulled his shirt over his head. With a chuckle, he gently replies, “baby, I have to.”

Solana places the bag on the bed, crossing her arms as she walks over to him. “Ro, you have the flu. Not only is it highly contagious, but you're in no position to work.”

“Sol, I’ve been working through sickness my whole life. I’ll be fine.” He always is. “And if it’s that contagious, I definitely don’t need to be around you. I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I don’t care about that.” Her dismissal is quick and sharp. “I care about you and taking care of you until you feel better, which starts with you staying here, so I can watch you." Solana makes a face, something similar to indignation as she shakes her head. “You’re staying here.” 

Roman sighs, loudly. “Baby—”

“No!” She raises her voice, quickly and rapidly saying something in Spanish that he can’t make out but doesn’t necessarily need to to know that she’s not happy. Taking a deep breath, she asks in a calmer manner, “please?”  She steps toward him, grabbing onto his forearm. “I’ll just worry about you all day if you leave…..”

Roman’s gaze is knowing, as he asks, “you know I don’t like you worrying about me.”

She nods, eyes almost mischievous as she confirms, “so you’ll stay?”

He can’t help it. He has to laugh a little. It’s such a different side of her, seeing Solana almost be manipulative, playing upon the fact that she knows he hates when she spends her time worrying about him. “Today.”

“This week,” she counters. 

That’s absolutely not going to happen, but he doesn’t want to argue with her. “Fine.” Solana looks relieved and a part of him feels bad lying to her. He knows she means well, that she only wants to help him, but the truth is that he can’t afford to be out of commission for a whole week.

Or maybe he can, and it’s just his naturally controlling personality that makes him feel like he needs to stay in the loop. Regardless of that fact, he’ll just let her have this for now.

Emphasis on for now. 

Solana nods, clearly pleased with this win. “Here.” She moves to grab the bag of medicine, ripping it open and reaching it to him along with a water bottle. Where the fuck did she even grab that from? “Take your medicine. I’m going to make you some soup.”

Roman scowls at that. “Soup?” He loves Solana’s food. She truly can cook her ass off, and while no soup she’s made has ever been bad, it’s not his favorite thing. “What about—”

She lifts up a hand silencing him, at the same moment a nasty set of coughs leaves his mouth. Stupid fucking flu.  “Only soup for the next few days.”

His eyes widen a bit at that. “Days?” How the fuck is he supposed to live off fucking soup for the next few days? “Solana—”

“Yes, soup.” She pouts, crossing her arms and waiting for him to swallow the pill before she continues, “we need to keep fluids in you, so that means lots of soup, water, and juice.” 

This shit just keeps getting more annoying and stressful, as Roman tries to help her understand his side of things here. “Baby, I’m 6’3, almost 300lbs. I need more than just soup.”

“I’ll make it hearty.” She shrugs, but that doesn’t do him much good, cause she always does. And he always ends up wanting more, both because it’s good but also because he has a massive appetite. “Now take off those clothes and change into something comfortable, but  keep your shirt off.” The last part definitely catches his attention, and Roman has to bite back a chuckle as her cheeks redden. “Not ... .not that.  I picked up some Vicks Vaporub to rub on you.” Again, his eyebrow goes up and again, she gets even redder. “Roman, please. I’m trying to help you.”

“I think I need a different kind of help.” When he goes to grab her and pull her into him, she jumps back, lifting her hands to stop him. 

“Get changed,” she redirects. “ I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”

—------

Solana is a patient person, much more than most, but she’s also human. Compassion and empathy can have limitations. And in a twist she never saw coming, she feels that to a certain extent with her big, strong husband who’s not much different from the kids she reads to when they come in for reading time feeling not the best.

Roman is a horrible patient. He’s stubborn and borderline obstinate, Solana constantly having to remind him that he needs to rest and resting does not including cussing people out over the phone which has happened more often than not in the past three days since he’s been out sick.

Which was a whole other thing. She’s found it practically impossible to convince this man that he can afford to take a couple days off, that the Bloodline will not collapse and cease to exist if Roman Reigns takes a couple days off.

Except that seems to be exactly what he thinks. 

Solana is in the kitchen, whipping up another pot of Caldo de pollo when Dulce comes sauntering in, stretching her short little body, tail wagging.

Placing the lid over the pot, Solana smiles and moves to pet her puppy when a thought crosses her mind. Dulce was in their bedroom sleeping, as was Roman. Dulce typically only gets up at movement. 

Which means…..

Sighing heavily, Solana mumbles to herself, “este hombre.” Walking with purpose, Dulce right on her heel, following with naive excitement as Solana starts with his office. When that’s a dead end, she goes to the only other place he would sneak off to despite her orders for him to stay in bed and rest.

Sure enough, Solana finds him changed into workout shorts, no top, phone in his hand. She snatches a brief second to take him in. Roman doesn’t look bad—she’s not sure he could ever look bad even if he tried—-but he doesn’t look amazing either. It would be obvious to anyone looking at him, the paleness of his complexion, the ruddiness of his cheeks, the cough that’ll probably be the last to go, that he’s sick.

If only he could accept that.

“Man, R! I literally told you 789 Little Street!” Solana recognizes Jey’s exasperated voice on the other end of the call. “How is it every time you mess this up?”

“I thought you said 987 Little Street!” There’s another voice present, one Solana doesn’t recognize. 

“I told you to stop letting his dyslexic ass handle shipments!” Jimmy’s annoyed voice sounds, and Solana watches Roman pinch the bridge of his nose.

“That’s—that’s on me. My—my bad. Imma make it right though!”

“No,” Roman’s baritone voice, even deeper with his sickness, cuts through. “Jey, have Jacob handle it. I don’t have time for these types of fuck ups.”

And at that, giving Roman enough time to issue a clear order, Solana makes her presence known, arms crossed, a scowl on her face.

Roman looks briefly surprised followed by a quiet, “fuck.”

“Roman, you are literally worse than a child. How many times do I have to tell you to rest?” She more or less rants in Spanish, well aware of the fact that he can’t understand her. It’s preferred. She doesn’t like fussing at anyone, let alone him. Marching over, Dulce right beside her, she extends her hand. “Give me your phone.”

He looks at her with disbelief. “What?”

“Aye, Soso, is that you?” Jimmy asks, clearly recognizing her voice. “Look, I know Big Dog sick and shit, but if you cooking, can you leave some food outside or something? I can swing by and pick—” The request is cut off by Roman’s finger jabbing the end button. 

“I just need to get a workout in, Solana.” Roman explains, running his hand through his hair. “It’s been two days. I feel like shit because of it.”

“No, you feel like shit, Roman, because you have the flu and because you refuse to actually rest,” she counters, hand still extended. 

“I can rest when I’m dead,” he deadpans. 

Solana winces, scowl dropping into a frown. “Don’t say things like that.” She steps toward him, dropping her hand and instead placing it on his chest. His skin is warm to her touch, most likely to the fever that still hasn’t broken. “That—that’s why I’m trying to help you. Take care of you.”

Something flashes in his eyes, something akin to compassion. “And I appreciate that, baby. I do, but you’re too worried. You took off work this week, check on me every hour on the hour, cook even more than that—”

“And I’ll keep doing it, because it’s what you need and because I love you, and that’s what you do for the people you love.” She explains, taking full advantage of the way Roman seems briefly distracted and possibly moved by her kind words to snatch his phone away. It shocks the both of them. He’s definitely sick, because there’s no way a non-sick Roman would allow her, even with her speed, to get away with that. “Now come with me in the kitchen. Food’s almost ready.”

Roman goes to protest when Dulce jumps against his leg. One look down, and she’s essentially growling at him. 

He starts to say some smart shit when Solana giggles. “See, she agrees with me. You need to rest.”

“Yeah, because that’s all her biased, lazy ass does.”

“Don’t be mean to her,” Solana scolds and moves to hold his hand, tugging slightly to get him in the right direction. The one opposite all the equipment that will cause him to expend energy he really doesn't have. “It’s almost time for your next Tylenol dosage.”

Roman doesn’t try to stop her from guiding him, but he does groan at her latest statement. “All this damn medicine.”

She shakes her head, Roman easily finding a much better thing to focus on in the sway of her ass in the short, little gray nightgown she has on. It’s mesmerizing and distracting in the best kind of way. 

“It’s only going to help you feel better……” She says more, but again, his attention elsewhere. No workouts. No real food. No sex. This shit is fucking torture. Roman is so caught up in his overall dissatisfaction that he’s briefly taken back when they’re in the kitchen, and he’s sat down at the table while Solana moves over to the stove.

His gaze falls on her, not even her ass. Well, not entirely. Just her as a person. To be fair, he knows he hasn’t been the easiest person to deal with. He never is, really. And while he hasn’t done the best job showing Solana his appreciation, his gratitude is immense.

Years. He’s spent years feeling alone. Following that night, Fetu has only been present since he was 21, but that’s not consistent. He can’t see her as much as he’d like, can’t spend time with her to the extent he would prefer. He’s limited, and that limitation doesn’t do anything to quell loneliness. 

For so long, he’s been on his own, taking care of himself, looking out for himself. It’s such a new experience to have Solana. To know she cares for him as much as she does. For her to love him like she does.

He’s not sure he could ever admit it aloud, but it can be overwhelming. Having someone like her love someone like him.

Undeserving, almost.

“Here ya go,” Solana announces, placing his tray in front of him, consisting of the soup, a spoon, napkins, and his drink. “Let me know if…...what’s wrong?” Before he can answer, she feels his forehead. “No chest pain, right?”

He shakes his head, not quite sure just what is the best thing to say or even how to say it but doing what he can. “I’m not…..I’m not used to anyone taking care of……taking care of me.” It’s usually the other way around, Roman having to handle everything for everyone around him. “I’m sorry for….making things harder on you.” 

And, he is. He knows that he’s a dick. Beyond that at times. But, she’s the one person in his life he never wants to be on the receiving end of that kind of behavior. Especially when all she wants to do is help.

Solana’s smile is soft and gentle as she moves into his lap. That’s another thing he hates. Her being around him so much. He doesn’t want to get her sick, something she seems almost completely uncaring about. 

She strokes his beard. “You don’t have to apologize, Ro.”

“Don’t do that shit.” His tone is firm, but the delivery is patient and truly apologetic. “I’ve been difficult, and you don’t deserve that. You deserve an apology, and you don’t have to dismiss it.”

Because one thing he’s always been and will always be adamant about is helping her know what she does and does not deserve. She’s been done so wrong by so many people in her life. He refuses to let anyone else be added to that list, including himself. 

Solana chuckles, her gaze on him warm and loving. “You might be the only person in my life I don’t think I’d ever want an apology from, Roman.” He doesn’t necessarily agree with that. Not at all. She thinks so damn highly of him. Too highly, maybe. “I love you, and it’s like I’ve said before, I’d do anything for you.” She leans over and kisses his temple, teasing, “even put up with you being a big baby about being sick.”

He scowls a bit at that, unable to hold in his clarification. “I’m not being a baby. I just don’t like being sick.”

At that, Dulce barks, sitting down on the floor in front of them, watching the entire scene unfold.

Solana giggles. “No one does, baby.”  She pouts for a minute before her expression switches to something more serious. “And I can help you get better, but that means you have to listen to me….okay?” He sighs, Solana adding, “even if you don’t necessarily like it.”

“I don’t like any of it.” Roman is many things, and brutally honest is near the top of that list. “Especially the not being able to fuck you part.”

As expected, she starts blushing at his raw admission, but it’s followed up with one of her own too. In her own Solana type of way. “I—I miss that too, but—” she shakes her head as his eyebrow goes up. “—your health comes first.”

It seems like everything comes first when it comes to him for her. Again, he’s torn on that, but another conversation for another day. 

Climbing off his lap, she lightly squeezes his bicep. “Now get to eating.” Roman moves to slap her ass, Solana squealing and shoving his hand away. “Behave, Roman.”

Dulce barks again, Solana directing her to follow her out the back door. “I’ll be right back,” she informs, closing the door as soon as the puppy is outside. 

Roman chuckles to himself, staring at the tray laid out for him so thoughtfully by his wife. His best friend. 

His everything. 

—------

It's a long week and a half, most of which is spent Roman doing his best to follow his wife’s orders but also struggling to not fall into his normal routine. He definitely earns a couple of Spanish scoldings as well as some low growling from her pocket pet, but when all is said and done, Roman comes out on the other end starting to feel more and more like himself.

Enough to where he’s ready to actually see beyond the inside of his home. 

A necessity, as he was most definitely teetering on the verge of going stir crazy. 

Roman is prepared to head out the door in a little under twenty minutes, already having a line of meetings awaiting him, all coordinated by his Wise Man.  

But, he has to do something first.

She’s in the kitchen, washing up some dishes, humming to herself when he comes up behind her. 

Solana jumps a little, a small smile falling on her face that morphs into confusion when he lowers his hands in front of her. He hears her gasp as he places the diamond necklace on her neck, moving her hair to the side to clasp the hook. “Roman…..” She reaches for a towel, drying her hands and looking down, fingers carefully grasping at the nearly 100k gift. “This is beautiful. You didn’t have to—”

“Of course, I did,” he dismisses, moving his hands around her waist, kissing the side of her neck. “You took care of me all last week, and you didn’t have to. I appreciate that. I appreciate you.” He watches her continue to admire just a small token of his gratitude for her and everything she does for him. “And you know, Michaels was right. You’re smart as hell, Solana. You ever thought of trying to go to school?”

At that, she turns to him, eyes set with slight confusion. “M–me?”

Roman chuckles, gently squeezing her cheek. “Yes, you, baby.”  He continues, seeing she could use a bit of affirmation and encouragement. “The fact that you know and have self taught yourself so many things, even without a college degree just shows how smart you are. How good you’d be at that, whether nursing, a doctor—”

“A doctor?” She interrupts in a small voice, Roman enjoying the smile that’s gradually growing. “Do you really……” And there it goes, he can see it, the insecurity sweeping in as she shakes her head. “Roman, I’m almost 30. I’m too old for that now. I–I missed my oppurt—”

“Hey.” He cuts her off, firm but still patient. “You can do whatever the fuck you want to do, Solana.”  He gently palms her face, making sure she understands he’s fully behind her. No matter what. “You want to go back to school? I’ll make it happen. You have my support in whatever you want, baby.” She’s visibly moved by this, and he’s grateful to at least see that spark return. “Just think about it……okay?”

She nods, agreeing in a quiet voice. “Okay.” Roman kisses her forehead, moving to step away when he catches the change in her expression. As she briefly covers her mouth. Like she's about to throw up.“What’s wrong?” 

Solana looks up and shakes her head, explaining with a shrug after a few seconds of clearly gathering herself, “I've just been kind of tired the past few days. Nauseous too.” 

At that, Roman tenses and curses. “Fuck, did I get you sick?” He knew that shit would happen. She was around him too much. Interactions and touches exceeding what was appropriate. “I’ll stay—”

��No,”  she cuts him off, turning to face him as she places her hand on his chest. “I don’t think it’s that. I’ve—I’ve had the flu before. This feels different.” That doesn’t help him feel much better either, but she seems determined. “I’ll be fine. If I still don’t feel good at work, I’ll just come back home.”  She shrugs guessing, “probably just a stomach bug or something.”

He’d rather her not leave at all, but a part of him also wants to see her out of the house as well. A change in environment. “Okay, but if you come home early, let me know, alright?” Cause there’s no way in hell he’s going to let her be sick all by herself. Not when she spent a week and a half off work tending to him. 

“Okay,” she agrees, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I love you.” 

Roman doesn’t stiffen at the words, doesn’t feel torn or conflicted, just an intense amount of reciprocity.

“I love you too, baby.”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

stalker!reader/unsub!reader for spencer reid

tw: mentions of blood, graphic descriptions of murder, usual CM gore, suicide.

-noticing him one day when he was at your job for a case asking questions about a victim/killer. i’m gonna say season 4 reid (before he gets shot in the leg). you were stuck to the shadows just observing him and his colleague when boom! his eyes meet yours and you feel a spark, your body tingles. he noticed you.

-he walks away from his colleague who was talking with your boss, towards you, hands in his pockets and this long wavy hair swaying with his motions. he stopped three steps away from you and said, “hello, i’m doctor reid, with the fbi. i was wondering if i could ask some questions about…” his voice was deep and smooth, he pulled you into a hypnotic trance. you just nodded and answered his questions honestly.

-he came back a second time, just saying that the case was over. that was it, you weren’t even personally involved, but he came back for you. he must’ve felt that same spark, that pull to someone magnetic. he even gave you his card and said, “if you even are in area or in need of help, just ask for me.” now how could you not be obsessed with that man after that.

-so you started to follow all the cases the fbi or bau was mentioned, hoping for a glimpse of the names spencer or dr. reid. you kept a folder of photos captured of him from news footage or newspaper articles, red inked hearts circled his head while anyone else was harshly scrubbed away in black ink. his gentle smiles or lovely eyes pierced at your heart each time, it was slowly bleeding into your lungs filling you up to suffocation. you need spencer reid.

-when cases went quiet you started to search relentlessly for him online. you forced yourself to ingest every thesis paper he’s ever written and watch any lecture that was posted. he drew you in with the wave of his hands or how he would ramble then bring himself back to the topic at hand. how you wanted to pick his brain, just sit and listen to him for hours taking about anything he’s stored away.

-it’s been a year since that case. you miss him, you want him in your grasp. maybe you should put that business card to use and just call it, that’d be a lot easier. so you mustered up the courage, pulling the card from your wallet and dialing his number you breathed slowly and pressed call. the line rang three times before it picked up and you heard his voice, “dr. reid, how can i help?”

“uh, this is y/n…” he said he’d remember you so you just gave your name for recognition. the line was quiet for three seconds and you could hear some faint chatter on his end before he responded, “i’m sorry, i- i don’t seem to-“ and you hung up the call before he could break your heart further. he lied.

-it was like you just went through a breakup for a relationship that wasn’t even real. your bleeding heart completely cracked and spilled like fire through your veins. spencer reid is going to regret ever forgetting you and his promise. so you started to do some studying, researching past cases with the bau involved, looking for inspiration from convicted killers

-you find some that were unique but still easy to accomplish with your own physic in play. most of these killers were men, stronger and taller than you. you start to craft your calling cards, poems and roses, anything symbolic to a relationship and heartbreak. you’re nervous your first night on the hunt. you decide to go a bar and wait for someone to make their way into your web.

-you’d dance on them and kiss them, closing your eyes shut and imagining this it what spencer would taste like, how his hands trailing over your curves would release butterflies in your belly. his breath ghosting along your pulse before sucking a bruise into your skin. “wanna get out of here?” seductive eyes watching your toy nod and drag you behind him out the club, heading to his place.

-the make out session was hot and getting steamy, pushing him in the direction of his bedroom. you played the kinky card, “gonna tie you up and gag you, be a good boy.” left in nothing but his boxers he was bond and gagged. playing a teasing game you left him alone while looking for some type of weapon. pulling a pair of black gloves from your clutch and the pointiest knife from a drawer you dragged yourself back to his bed, straddling him at the waist, keeping your hands behind your back. “you’ve made this night very special. wanna know why?” playing coy while pulling the gag down from a second.

the toy cocked a brow with a shit eating smirk, “of course, doll face.” his eyes dropping to your chest and it caused you to grimace. “you’re the first victim of many.” whispered as you slid the fabric back into his mouth

“wait wh-“ muffled when you stabbed him with an angered forced into his heart. his screams were still loud but with music playing in the background and his mouth full, no one would be the wiser.

-you called in sick for the next few days, needing to be consistent for the bau to be called in. you’d go to clubs or even strip clubs, any place that’d have willing men bring you home preying on you while you were the pretender. you kept the killings pretty simple, just stabs to the heart and letting them bleed out, you started to draw heart on their walls from their blood, the red turning black when drying. and finally before leaving a folded note with a poem or a piece of your soul written out was safety pinned to their skin.

-the news started to call you ‘the heartbreak killer’ stupid, but they always wanted to give killers case names. adding a new flare to your lastest kill, you’ve scattered red and white rose petals over their body and a ruby red kiss to their cheek. your fifth victim in a week period. you had a hunger for it now, killing gave you an adrenaline rush that was better than any rollercoaster or scary movie, you vibrate with excitement each night. you started dressing more bolder, wearing wigs even, making sure you stood out for anyone that was connected to your toy of the night.

- “we’ve called in the fbi behavior analysis unit to help us find this serial killer. with them here we plan to catch them before there is another victim.” goosebumps scattered over your forearms hearing the sheriff’s announcement. finally, he’s here. your spencer reid came for you. “in do time, my love. we’ll be reunited properly.”

-you took a sixth life the night they arrived, wanting them to know your usual stalking grounds. it would be easier to ‘accidentally’ bump into spencer, rather than actively search him out. so the next day you dressed down, wanting to look more normal, become a wallflower. you were nursing a drink in a shaded corner with watching eyes surveying the crowed hoping to see the tall dr. reid. “uh, excuse me, miss.” your heart skipped a beat, it recognized his voice even over the thumping music rattling your skull.

you turned his way casually and said, “you’re very pretty,” sipping on the black straw of your soda. spencer smiled hesitantly and floundered for a response, “uh tha- thank you. i’m dr. spencer reid i work with the fbi-“ he flashed his badge and you caught a glimpse of a younger photo, “there’s been a series of murders in the area and we suspect the killer visits here. have you seen anything suspicious lately?”

your nostrils flared, he still didn’t remember you not even face to face. “well all men are suspicious in clubs,” dulled chuckles at your retort. you saw spencer’s eyebrows quirked, “are- are you by yourself?” he sounded concerned for a stranger, but you weren’t a stranger. “yeah, my friends left me a few hours ago but i just didn’t want to go home yet.” shrugging him off.

he licked his lips, “well i’d suggest not visiting his establishment for the time being.” “but all her victims are men, so i’m safe. but thanks for the concern, nice to meet you doctor.” and you left the crowded bar with a smirk knowing you gave him a hint.

-you went to work the following day, just telling your coworkers you came down with food poisoning and needed and extra day to recover. they cooed over you but you knew most of them didn’t care, its fine you weren’t planning to stay here forever like most. you were cleaning tables and fixing displays when there was a tap to your shoulder. brittany, a coworker, pointed over her shoulder and said, “there’s a spencer reid here to see you. says he’s with the fbi.” you had to repress your smile.

“dr. reid, pleasure to see you again.” a welcoming smile and open posture. he cocked his head, “i- i remember you. from last year…” it’s like you could see his gears turning and clicking things into place. you didn’t bother denying anything just saying, “wow, what a great memory you have.”

his round eyes stared into your soul, “eidetic memory. you called me a month ago…” now you showed confusion, “no i didn’t. sadly lost your card, but i’m safe. we should have dinner while you’re here.” being bold.

spencer nodded his head, “that sounds nice. tomorrow night works for me, i could meet you here.” he seemed excited to have a romantic date with you. your heart raced, “it’s a date.” and you headed back to your work.

-you changed into date appropriate clothing once you clocked out and waited five minutes outside before you saw the tall spencer reid walking up to your side. he had a sweater vest over a button up with a tie around his neck, his gun wasn’t holstered to his hip for the night and his hair was a bit wind swept. you could eat him up.

“bet you have a bunch of girls after you while away on cases.” walking beside him when he suggested an chinese restaurant just down the block. he chuckled, oh your heart stuttered at the melody, “not really. most people don’t like my… personality.” sneaking a glance at you.

“well they’re missing out, but happy since i’m the lucky girl at your side.” looping an arm through his and pulling his close so you could lean your head onto his bicep. “i’ve dreamed of this since you left.” sighing into the air then pressing a kiss to his fabric covered skin, later you’ll get to taste him.

- “i have a question for you.” it’s been an hour into your date, stomach filled with delicious food and effortless conversation. you nodded at spencer to go forward. “at the bar you said the unsub was a women, what made you think that? no sex has been mentioned in the news yet.”

you pursed your lips in thought, “well, stabs to the heart seems emotionally personal. and the hearts in blood and rose petals, along with her leaving love poems. only a hopeless romantic that was horribly heartbroken would do this art.” slurping noodles into your mouth for punctuation. you weren’t trying to hide your truth, “it was the only way to get your attention.”

- “my attention?” spencer questioned. “well, i’ve missed you and when i tried calling-“ “so that was you.” “and you lied about remembering me!” slamming a fist onto the tabletop forcing it to shake. you leaned in close, “i thought we had something special. you didn’t bother trying to reach me in anyway and i’ve stayed updated with your career.”

“i- im sorry, y/n. my job is just very demanding. i would’ve reached out. i- i didn’t think you felt the way i did.” spencer stretched a hand over the table and rested it atop yours, his long fingers curling along your wrist.

“oh baby, the spark when we first met was instant. i was devoted to you the moment our eyes met, i’d do anything for you.” allowing your other hand to creep up spencer’s arm. “i’d kill myself for you if you asked, i’ve killed for you. would you do the same for me?” doeing your eyes and pouting your lips.

spencer leaned forward, his eyes dropping to your lips then back to your eyes, “anything for you, my love.” whispered just between the two of you. you smiled wickedly, “wanna head to my place?”

-once your door was unlocked and open you pounced onto spencer, hands holding his cheeks so you could press your lips onto his. his palms gripped at your hips and pulled your flush to his chest as his mouth devoured yours, moans ripped from your throat.

“fbi! hands in the air!” heavy footsteps and loud shouts broke the air. you didn’t bother acknowledging them, just submerging yourself into spencer until his arms twisted you around and held you in a tight hug. “don’t fight them. stay alive for me.” spencer whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.

-six months. you’ve been institutionalized for six months since your lawyer pleaded insanity to the court. said you did everything because you started to stalk and become obsessive with doctor spencer reid. you didn’t bother mentioning that the killings made you feel stable. you’ve been sentenced for twenty five years to life, chances of parole after fifteen years. your family rarely visited you, you didn’t care. you only enjoyed visitation when he was there.

“the doctor is here.” an officer pulled you from the library to bring you into the visitation center. nervously you fiddled with your hair, straightening your beige uniform, wanting to appear put together for your boyfriend. he wasn’t your actual boyfriend, but he allowed you to call him that.

“hi baby.” sidling into your seat across from him, a gigantic smile hurting your cheeks. he wore his standard outfit, sweater vest over a long sleeve button up, no tie today and his collarbones were on display for you along with his forearms. “you look very sexy today.”

“and you look quite pretty today.” spencer visits you once a week at most, sometimes twice if he’s already in the state for a case. you heard it was cause your psychiatrist told him that your symptoms were worse if he was gone for long periods at a time causing you to act out and harm yourself or others. but you know it’s cause he loves you.

“what book are you reading today?” jerking his head to the worn spine. you peered down at the titles with a twisted smile then looked him dead in the eyes, “romeo and juliet. quiet the love story don’t you think?”

[so-i-did-this-thing]

im sorry if this is too personal a question.

but how did you manage to transition so well? is there a secret to it? im too scared to take my first step and i don't know where to start.

-a trans guy

I choose my camera angles very carefully.

A glib reply, but it's the truth. What I put out here is a crafted persona to make myself feel better about the shortcomings of my own transition. And myself, really. We all feel scared and insecure, even those of us who transition "well". The first step is still the hardest. Mine was at rock bottom, my depression and hoarding exacerbated to where I was starting to live (just exist, really) in squalor. I had no money for transition, but after selling a few things and finding a new job, found some after all. There's ways to make it work. A local LGBT center who can refer you to a therapist or doctor, some local community. Other online trans folks who can direct you to informed consent clinics, or explain how they got their paperwork done. Facebook groups about top surgery where folks of all genders share their fears and euphoria. There's no one place to start. Maybe it's trying on a new name or pronouns in a safe place for a while. New clothes or a haircut. Or maybe it's leaping into the fire and starting on T as soon as you can. It boils down to what makes you feel safe and what you need to keep going. It'll be tough, to learn that some of the people in your life life have a love that is conditional and you never knew. It's tough being vulnerable and running into people who are repulsed by that. Some folks will set impossible standards, where you can never transition slow enough for them. And it's tough still having to do all the other things you need to in life, like wake up and go to work, feed yourself properly, clean the house. Remember to be kind to yourself. Sometimes that means waiting until morning to wash the dishes, and sometimes that means cleaning them right away because you know your tendency to let things slide. But the good tends to outweigh the bad. You'll find confidence you never knew you had, you will. Don't shut yourself away. You'll find new people who share your morals, and discover that some folks who have always been in your life will always have your back. Some might even surprise you in a good way. You'll find yourself smiling at your reflection more and more. And weirdly, what seemed out of reach will become mundane in an amazing, wonderful way. And you'll find yourself thinking more about the future as something that you can control, rather than something that just happens to you. You'll probably learn new things about yourself along the way, too, be it about your gender, your sexuality, or really anything under the sun.

And you might find yourself writing to help out someone who was where you were nearly 30 years ago.

Take care. You probably know already what you need to do. <3

[kremlin]

@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

[probablyasocialecologist]

A survey of more than 90,000 transgender people in the U.S. — the largest nationwide survey of the community ever — found that trans people continue to experience workplace and medical discrimination. However, the overwhelming majority of them still report more life satisfaction after having transitioned.  The National Center for Transgender Equality, or NCTE, one of the country’s largest trans rights organizations, released its 2022 U.S. Transgender Survey Early Insights report Wednesday after a yearslong delay due, in part, to the pandemic. The survey, the most comprehensive look to date at life for transgender people in the U.S., comes as hundreds of bills in the last three years have attempted to roll back trans rights, most often by restricting trans people’s access to transition-related health care and trans students’ abilities to play school sports.

[...]

More than one-third of adult respondents, or 34%, were experiencing poverty at the time of the survey, and 18% were unemployed. More than 1 in 10, or 11%, of respondents who had ever held jobs said they had been fired or forced to resign or had lost jobs or been laid off because of their gender identities or expressions. And, in line with previous survey findings, 30% of respondents had experienced homelessness in their lifetimes.  Of adult respondents who saw health care providers in the previous 12 months, 48% reported having had at least one negative experience because they were transgender, including being refused health care, having staff members use the incorrect pronouns for them or having providers use abusive language or be physically rough or abusive while treating them. Fear of mistreatment prevented 24% of respondents from seeing doctors when they needed it in the 12 months before the survey.  Many respondents also reported past mistreatment in school. Of adult respondents, 80% who were out or perceived as trans in K-12 experienced one or more forms of mistreatment, including verbal harassment, physical attacks, online bullying or being denied use of the restrooms or locker rooms that matched their gender identities. Of the 8,159 respondents who were 16 and 17, 60% reported such mistreatment. Despite those negative experiences, the vast majority of adult respondents, 79%, who lived at least some of the time in different genders from the ones they were assigned at birth reported that they were “a lot more satisfied” with their lives. An additional 15% reported they were “a little more satisfied.”

[reiderwriter]

do you think you could write where reader is a part of the BAU and gets kidnapped/ hurt by an unsub and spencer saves her? much love and i love your fics!

Hi! Thanks so much for your request. I'll admit this took a bit more brain power than usual 💀 may have gotten slightly carried away creating an unsub lmao

Summary: You go undercover for a case and Reid keeps you company through online messages, only to feel absolutely worthless when you go missing.

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kidnapping and abuse of Y/N, Reid self-deprecating again but it has a happy fluffy ending so a win.

My Requests are Open! Send me an ask if you want me to write something~ 💕 And check out My Masterlist!

“Y/N, what do you think? I’m not going to send you in if you’re not confident you can complete the mission.'' Your Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner, was briefing you on the plan. Luckily for the team, or rather, unluckily for you, you fit the victim profile of your latest case, and with an absence of leads, your last chance to get him before he took another victim was an undercover mission. 

“I can do it, but can we establish a background in enough time? He’s devolving and he’s going to need to pick up another victim pretty soon.” 

You’d been called in to consult on the case two weeks prior. Local women who lived alone in the metropolitan area had been going missing on a weekly basis for the last three months, and the BAU team had been called in when they’d finally found the dump site of the first three victims. 

You’d so far managed to figure out how he was finding his victims from their home computers - a site for young women to look for sugar daddies. You’d previously profiled him as a man in his mid-40s who was going through a personal loss and was lashing out at women who represented someone specific to him, and after searching through the dating profiles, you were pretty sure his stressor was a recent or impending divorce. 

But try as Garcia might, these dating websites had a whole lot more encoded data than was expected, and after the Ashley Madison scandal of the previous decade, they’d taken to deleting the majority of their user data regularly so that certain accounts couldn’t be found. Which meant that you were left with a geographical profile you couldn’t pin down, a profile that could match half the men in the city, and a killer that was almost ready to strike again. 

“Garcia can get something ready for you in the next 8 hours, and we have some access to some FBI safehouses in the area that we can ready in at the same time. Go get yourself prepared for cover.”

And that’s how you found yourself living in a dingy studio apartment on the south side of the city for two days, waiting to report back about whatever men approached you. There wasn’t much for you to complain about, but you were getting pretty lonely. 

You’d greeted your new neighbors and made a show of attending some ‘new to the neighborhood’ events, making sure to get out and about to let the team assess if the unsub was stalking you. Other than that you’d spent the rest of your time in your apartment a constant tab open at the sugar baby website. A few men had been interested, and your computer was cloned and running simultaneously on Garcia’s system so the team could do their best to track suspicious accounts. 

The rest of your spare time was, surprisingly enough, spent messaging Spencer Reid. You’d been on the team now for three months, joining the team as a transfer from the blue collar division you’d worked in straight out of the academy. You had spent the same amount of time doing your best to gain confidence to work in the field. Sure, you’d trained for this, but theory and practice were so different and you really didn’t want to fuck up so early into your job.  

Which is why, you supposed, that Doctor Spencer Reid was so intimidating to you. Though he admittedly wasn’t the best at field work, noting the amount of exceptions the FBI had to make to allow him outside of the office at all on your first meeting, he was just so damned competent. With three PhD’s, three BA’s and a pending fourth on the way, he was the golden child of the BAU, and you found yourself desperate for his approval. It surely didn’t help that he was also your exact type to boot, and sometimes you found yourself conflicted if you wanted his approval because he was so good at his job or because he was go goddamn good-looking. 

With no way to know how the unsub was tracking his victims before he kidnapped them, your team theorized it was unsafe to have physical check-ins, opting instead to set up another account on the sugar baby website, that would be manned around the clock. And tech-averse Reid had volunteered to do the bulk of the manning, leaving you with all the time in the world to talk to him in your private chat room. 

sug4rbbY/N: Good evening, Doctor, got any interesting facts for me today? ;)

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Did you know that it is illegal to flirt in Haddon Township, New Jersey? Under the section “Peace and Good Order,” a person may be punished for approaching “any person of the opposite sex unknown to such person and by word, sign or gesture attempts to speak to or to become acquainted with such person against his will.”

sug4rbbY/N: Well, aren’t I glad that we do not live in New Jersey then. 

D0ct0rD0ct0r: There’s more where that came from if you’re ever interested. 

sug4rbbY/N: I’ll certainly keep that in mind. 

sug4rbbY/N: Any plans for the evening, doc? 

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Just sitting here talking to you :) 

sug4rbbY/N: All by yourself? ;)

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Never feel like I’m alone when you’re online. 

sug4rbbY/N: Haha that’s sweet.

sug4rbbY/N: BRB, Doc, my doorbell’s ringing.  

You stood up from your desk, a glance at the mirror betraying your feelings, as your flush was prominent. You weren’t sure if it was the intimate nature of the messaging system, or just for the sake of your cover, but the flirty tone of your messages had certainly been leaving you wondering if there could be more to your relationship with your coworker in the future. 

You quickly walked over to the door, opening it wide and came face to face with a bouquet of flowers. 

“Miss Y/N Harper?” the man behind the bouquet used your cover name to address you, and you hesitated a little before nodding in the affirmative. “Can you sign here please? It’s standard procedure for deliveries like this.” 

“But I didn’t order any flowers…” you took the bouquet from the man and grabbed the pen in his hand ready to sign. 

“Oh yeah, our shop specialises in anonymous flowergrams. That bunch you’ve got in your hand has some aconite, some white lilies and jasmine flowers.” The delivery man explained, and something in your gut twisted as you listened to his words. 

“But aren’t lilies usually meant for funera-” you didn’t get to finish because he had pushed a wet rag to your face, and you had just enough time to shake some small petals off and push them far enough underneath a nearby shoe storage unit before you faded into unconsciousness, your last thought a prayer that your team would uncover your clue. 

–x– 

Needless to say, when you didn’t check back in a few minutes later, Spencer had alerted every cop in the vicinity of your new apartment that you were gone, and they discovered your apartment empty within ten minutes. 

“She was right there,” Spencer ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “She was talking to me and then she just got up and he took her.” 

“Reid, calm down, she can’t have been gone long, and we have security cameras all over the building. We’ll find her.” Morgan reassured the younger male while searching the entrance of your cover apartment for clues. 

“That’s easy for you to say, it isn’t your fault that she’d gone.”

“And it isn’t yours either, Reid. You did your job, but he wasn’t going to stop until he had her.” 

“I should’ve notified the standby officers as soon as she sent through that last message and what was I doing instead? Trying to figure out if she was flirting with me for real or not. I’m pathetic.”

“Reid, get your head back in the game. She’s gone and theres nothing you can do to change that now, but we need your head here or we’re not going to find her. Y/N’s an agent too, remember, she can hold her own. Now look and think.” 

“SSA Morgan, Doctor Reid, we may have something over here,” one of the local detectives called the two men over. They’d found the remnants of the petals you’d done your best to scatter, and even though the unsub had taken the bouquet with him, he hadn’t been as thorough as he should have been. 

“We didn’t set her up with any flowers when she started her cover, so these must have been bought in by the unsub. I’ll call Garcia, tell her to look for any flower shops within his comfort zone.” Morgan hit the number on his speedial, but before he could start, Reid cut him off.

“Wait, I think we can narrow the search a bit further. Those are Aconite petals, they’re not often stocked by local florists because they have a pretty sinister meaning. They’re usually used to express hatred for the receiver, and because of their poisonous properties most florists don't stock them for fear of doing harm and causing lawsuits. He must be specifically ordering them in to give to his victims. Garcia, can you crossreference the list of florists in the area and check to see how many of them have purchased this plant recently?” 

“Just the one. Sending you the address now. Go find our girl Doc.” 

–X– 

When you came to, in what you assumed to be a backroom of some kind of flower shop, you were bound at the ankles and wrists and there was a gag in your mouth. You struggled a bit against your bindings but it was no good, and you had to reassure yourself that you were going to be okay, doing your best to push down the tears and clear your head. 

You decided your best bet was to get to know your surroundings, check to see what was around you and what you could use to your advantage. There was a clock on the wall, and you realised that you’d only been gone half an hour. Reminding yourself that the unsub kept his victims for a minimum of two days did a lot to get your heartbeat back to a normal pace, but it spiked again as soon as you heard the door slam open and your captor walk in. 

“Stupid little bitch,” he slurred his words slightly and you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he moved closer to your space in the corner. You tried your best to scamper as far away from him as possible, but he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you up to his face. 

You winced at the pain and tried to squirm out of his hold. “Look at you all pathetic now, begging me to let you out. It’s not going to fucking happen, y'know. I’m going to be the last person you see, last person you hear,” he throws you against the wall, pinning you up with his hand on your arms as he sends a leering glance down your shirt and then gives you a disgusting grin. “Last person you touch.” 

Your bindings mean your movement is limited, but you still manage to bring both your legs up to knee him in the groin, effectively pushing him off you but landing hard on the ground yourself after you manage to do so. 

“Fucking whore,” he shouts at you standing up and dealing a sharp kick to your head that has your vision going white for a minute. “I’ll teach you to fucking mess with me again, you little bitch.” He makes to grab you again, but before he can you hear the blissful sounds of a door being kicked down and the shouts of the FBI to stand down. 

Two agents are on him in minutes and you finally allow yourself to let out a deep sob in relief, as a third, very recognisable agent, makes his way to your side. 

“Y/N, shhh baby, it’s okay. You’re okay now, I’ve got you,” Reid whispers in your ear as he unties you as gently and carefully as he can. The moment your arms are free you leap into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your face deeply against his chest. He pulls away just enough to untie your legs, and then lets you burrow into him again. 

“I knew you’d find me. Knew you’d understand something from those fucking flowers.” You sob into his chest now, as he strokes your hair, just holding you like that on the floor until you’re ready to move. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve sent someone to check sooner, and I should’ve never let you accept that stupid cover mission,this is my fault and I'm going to make it up to you. I'm never going to let anyone hurt you ever ag-” he begins rambling but you shut him up again, this time by firmly pressing your lips into his. 

“Before you say anything else, this is not transference and I’m not doing this because you saved me, we both know I would’ve done that eventually anyway,” you rest your forehead against his, and after he has time to process what has just happened, he’s wiping the tears away from your face, and gently holding it with both of his hands, leaning in to do it again, gently pressing his mouth against yours as if he’s afraid you might bolt at any second. 

“Thank you, again. For finding me,” you whisper to him, the space between you so miniscule now that you barely had to move your lips to know that he understood you. 

“Thank you, for letting me find you.” He grinned at you and held you again, determined to never let you out of his arms ever again. 

[jezabelle9299]

Caretaker S.R x fem!Reader

Reader is hired as a live-in caretaker for Diana. Describes when she accidentally flooded the apartment, but I kind of mess with canon and plot. Could kind of take place after prison other than that. Diana ships Reader and Spencer. Reader is a graduate student in an online program.

C-Ws: Diana slaps reader, descriptions of alzheimer's and schizophrenia, Spencer is not used to people trying to take care of him and thinks he'll scare away reader.

(I've worked in a memory care/assisted living facility, and have a few relatives with alzheimer's and schizophrenia. But this is based on my still somewhat limited experience. And I have no medical experience, mostly just hospitality and comfort based work)

You had finally gotten to the address the agency gave you, after waiting a short eternity in the Washington traffic. It was a live-in caretaker job of a woman with schizophrenia and alzheimer's, living also with her son who traveled often for work. Your contact at the agency said the son, Dr. Reid was very nice and was ok with your slightly more limited experience. You buzzed and after a little while the man you assumed to be Dr.Reid came to the door. 

“Hi, you must be Ms.Y/L/N from the agency, I’m so glad you’re here.” He looked both shocked and relieved, like he thought you wouldn’t actually show up. While you were trying not to notice (Or at least trying not to show) that you thought the doctor was particularly gorgeous. But he would not only functionally be your employer, but also a sort of roommate. Plus you really wanted this job, you were a little new to being a live in caretaker after working in assisted living facilities since high school. You were in a grad program now, one you were completing online that allowed you to have caretaking as your career. 

“I’m happy to be here! You must be Dr.Reid?” 

“I am, and this is my mother Diana Reid.” He gestured to the woman on the couch, who had yet to even look at you. I mean you were kind of invading her house, so you couldn’t blame her. But you were determined to make her like you, I mean this job is a huge opportunity, and as you were new to the city the live in position was a two-birds-one-stone situation.  

“Hi Ms. Reid, I’m Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you. Your son has told me so much about you.” You gave her a nervous wave as you walked in front of the couch, still attempting to give her space while being in her line of sight. 

“I’m sure he has. I don’t need a stranger hovering over me.” She then stormed into the adjoining room, shutting and locking the door behind her. Dr.Reid attempted to chase after her, finding the door locked from the inside and calling out to her. 

“Mom, please just meet her! You’ve chased off every other nurse from the agency!” he got no reply, and solemnly turned back towards you. He was exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and he looked utterly dejected. 

“I’m sorry to waste your time, I understand if you’d like to leave.”

“I’ll stay, unless you’d like me to leave.” confusion and hope clouded his expression, you weren’t giving up that easy.

“That was just a first meeting, I get that she doesn’t want me in her space, but she might warm up to me. Plus, one of the best ways for me to get to know her right now is through you.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much. Today is one of her worse days, she’s not usually like this I swear.” He looked elated at the fact you didn’t leave so you knew you were getting the job. He just needed the help too much, and you were determined to get this woman to like you. From what Dr.Reid had already told you over the phone, she seemed like a wonderful woman you’d actually really like to know. She just had to not hate you first. 

“It’s ok, just a bad day. I totally understand she’s upset. Why don’t you and I talk until she comes out?”

“Yes, here have a seat, and I’ll grab you some water.” He hurriedly cleared some books off the couch so you could sit, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a glass of water a few moments later. While he was gone you pulled your work notebook and some pens out so you could take some notes. 

“Thank you Dr. Reid, that’s really sweet.”

“Of course, and you can call me Spencer.” 

“Alright, really quick just like my experience and such, I’m sure the agency told you most of it. I’m a little new to being a live-in caretaker, but I have experience at a couple assisted living facilities. I’ve taken care of a few family members with schizophrenia as well as alzheimers so I have experience with that as well. I’m a graduate student so I’ll work on some classwork during times when your mother is resting but it’s all online so it shouldn’t interfere with anything.”

He nodded along patiently as you basically read him your resume, and then responded in kind. “That all sounds great, I travel as part of my work so I may be gone for a few days to a week at a time, but it should never be for too long, and as this is a live-in position I’ll leave a card you can use for anything you or my mother need while I’m gone.” 

“That’s very kind, thank you. So, could you run me through a regular day for your mother? Just all of it, the activities she likes, medications, food times, all that good stuff so I can be prepared, and not change her routine too much.” You bounced back and grabbed a pen to start taking notes to help you remember all of the information. 

“Absolutely, yeah. Does this mean that you’ll take the job?” He looked so full of hope at the sentiment.

“If you’re offering, then yes I’d love to. I can start whenever you’re ready.” He lit up and pulled you into a hug you were not at all prepared for. He smelled really good, which was only made more noticeable by the sharp inhale you took in surprise of the gesture.

“Oh. Hi.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say during the hug to cut the tension you were feeling. He clearly took this as discomfort and pulled away. 

“Sorry, I jus- Thank you. That is amazing, thank you so much.”

“Of course, I really need to thank you for the opportunity. I look forward to getting to know your mom.”

You talked about different logistics, as well as him giving you a short tour of the house before you had to leave, before Diana would re-emerge. You started the next day, with Spencer there to start to ease the transition in the morning. After he left you and Diana, confident that she was having a good day, he headed for work. 

Diana did not have a good day after getting some rest after lunch. She needed to take one more medication, but when she woke up, she didn’t remember you. At least not as you the person her son hired to take care of you, she thought that you were using her son to get information on her. She thought you were there to manipulate the both of them, so when you offered her medication she wouldn’t take it. 

You did all you could do, you waited. And then after a short window had passed you gave her a drink with her medication in it, which after she drank, she realized it was the medication. She called you a fascist, and then unfortunately, slapped you. This wasn’t the first time a confused elderly person had gotten physical with you, so you attempted to keep your professionalism in tact. She ran to the bedroom, and you sat against the wall, reading to her from a collection of poetry Spencer said she loved. 

When you went to check on her and she was safely asleep, you continued cleaning the mess from the previous day. A small flood spread through the apartment, damaging several books and leaving towels littered around the room after Spencer had collapsed from exhaustion about the time you finished unpacking for the night. Spencer came home about the same time, to towels freshly in the wash, and you attempting to start repairing the books. You had a friend who was a librarian, and between a phone call with her and extensive research on the internet you’d made some progress. Books were spread out around you, in various states of drying and re-drying. You only noticed when you heard the door shut that he had come home, not hearing the key turn in the lock like you thought you would. 

“Hi.”

“Hi, uh-what are you doing?” He was carrying a leather satchel that he was now setting on his desk, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. His brow cocked in confusion as he looked at you.

“Oh, I noticed the books that got damaged, and your mother is still resting so I thought I’d get started on the drying process. I promise I asked my friend, she’s a librarian so that I wouldn’t make it worse.”

“Wow, that is really sweet, thank you Y/N. I really appreciate it.” He was walking closer to where you were sitting on the floor in the living room, carefully avoiding the spread-out books. 

“How’s mom doing? Did the rest of the day go alright?” He turned on the lamp by the couch, before moving a few of the books to sit. You had just started talking about his mother’s day, when his expression completely changed. He noticed the small mark on your face, and sprang off the couch, moving to the floor near you. 

“What happened?” You didn’t realize what he was talking about immediately, looking down to see if something was wrong you hadn’t noticed. When he gestured toward his own cheek, you remembered. 

“Oh yeah, Diana woke up from her nap after lunch and she got a little confused. She thought I was someone else, and that I was trying to get information about her. She slapped me, but it’s really no big deal. She just got confused is all. 

“No. No, that most certainly is a big deal.” He said it firmly, like there was no room for argument. But you jumped to yours, and his mothers, defense. 

“It’s really not. It’s common when alzheimers or dementia patients wake up not knowing where they are. She didn’t mean anything by it, I read to her, through the door, that poetry collection you mentioned yesterday. I think she liked it, and she felt better after she took her meds, she at least got some more rest.”

“That’s great- but I don’t want you to feel trapped here. If something isn’t alright, you can tell me, and I would understand if you wanted to leave.” You nodded to let him know you understood, and then followed it up with leaning back against the front of the couch and a small smile.

“You know if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.” Your attempt to lighten the mood was not really helping. 

“No!-Believe me, that is not what I was saying. I really appreciate you helping my mom and I out, but I just want you to be here because you want to be.” 

“Well thank you, Spencer. But it’s really ok. It doesn’t even hurt, I promise.” You made a small cross-your-heart motion to convey the truth of your sentiment. 

Now, why don’t you help me with these books, while I switch out laundry.” you pat him on the shoulder as you walked by. The first time the two of you had touched since the hug he thought had made you uncomfortable. His sweater was soft under your skin, his shoulders firm. But you kept walking, you were on the clock after all.

When you walked back you started gathering the restored books to put back, and tried to get back to work related conversation, or at least tangentially related to work. “Alright, towels are in the dryer, and I’m sorry I can’t quite figure out what your system is for these books. Could you point me in the direction of where these go?” You gestured to the small stack in your arms, and he immediately got up. 

“It’s a combination of the dewey decimal system, and a little bit moved around based on sentimentality, I can put these away. Thank you again for helping me dry them. I know it’s not really in your job description.” Ok has no one helped this man? He is very over appreciative of the little things, and he looks like he’s scared you’ll run away any second. It’s sweet, but my god. 

“I like to be helpful, and there was also a little selfish motivation. I was curious about your taste in books. I mean you have so many, I had to be a little nosey.” You kind of attempted to add a flirtatious tone, but you were still hoping this crush would go away. This was a job, and it would be nice if you didn’t get overly attached to him. Although it was a little late for that. 

“I don’t know if i’d call it nosey, it’s nice that you’re curious. What did you think?” He was looking between you and the floor, while blushing. Maybe he liked you too. Wouldn’t that be nice. 

“I mean I’m no profiler, but I can take a guess.” He had told you about his job and what it entailed as it required him to be gone for long periods of time. So you kept the flirty undertone, somewhat under the guise of silliness, as you two moved closer together, whether consciously or otherwise. 

“I think you read A LOT. Like more than I probably could in a lifetime, and since I know you don’t exactly have excesses of freetime, you have incredible reading comprehension. Speed reader maybe? And some were in a few different languages, so maybe a linguistics major in college? Could be your doctorate. Also the style of the books is contributing to the apartment both functionally and as a decoration. They’re as much comfort objects as they are entertainment. So if I had to guess, you were a shy kid who read a lot.”

“Alright, not bad at all. Although my doctorates are in mathematics, engineering, and chemistry. The languages are easier because I have an eidetic memory. I am a speed reader, as our subconscious minds can process significantly more than our conscious minds.” There was one part consciously left out. He couldn’t have forgotten, he told you so himself. But you couldn’t resist, you wanted to know him. More than accomplishments and accolades.

“And the last part?” He looked upset, and you regretted asking it. It must have really bothered him, really been over the line.

“Yes, I was a big reader as a kid. I was a prodigy so making friends wasn’t easy, and I’m sure you noticed I’m kind of- well- odd.” odd? I mean interesting, or extraordinary sure, but odd wasn’t the word you’d use. It felt so…negative.

“I don’t think you’re odd. The prodigy aspect makes sense though, especially since I know you have 3 doctorates instead of the 1 I assumed you had. Also, if it makes you feel any better I’m kind of speaking from experience. I had more books than friends when I was little too.” You were sharing a small smile as you stood near the wooden shelves, until you heard the bedroom door open, and you stepped away from each other, gaining back the space you lost. 

“Hi Diana, did you sleep ok? Is there anything I can get you?” She gently shook her head, confused, but piecing it together as she woke up. 

“No, thank you. Spencer, who's your friend? Is she- is she your girlfriend?” She spoke in a hushed tone for the last part, like it was a fun secret between the 3 of you.” He looked like an embarrassed teenager, as he turned toward his mother. 

“No, mom. This is Y/N, she’s taking care of you, you guys spent the day together?” She started to understand, but kept giving Spencer a look like she didn’t quite believe him. 

After you cooked dinner, something Spencer also tried to convince you wasn’t necessary. Seems like he wasn’t used to being taken care of. You cleaned the kitchen, giving Spencer some time with his mom before you all resigned to bed. You didn’t cross paths again for a few days, with Spencer leaving before dawn for a case. 

When he returned a few days later, after many call and text updates on his mothers condition (that occasionally strayed to more personal topics of your life, but you wrote it off as him being polite)  he found you and his mom sitting on the couch, like the best of friends flipping through her scrapbook as she told you stories from Spencer's childhood. It was a good exercise to keep her mind sharp, as well as helping her feel more comfortable with you. 

“Hi Spencer, how was work?” He looked confused, and he was moving cautiously like he didn’t want to disturb the fleeting moment of happiness. His mother was happy, and the woman he had an ill-advised crush on were spending time together. In his home. It was perfect.

“It was good, it looks like you two had a good day?” His mother nodded her approval, and gestured for him to sit down.

“We did. Your mother read me some of her favorite books. And I didn’t know you could do magic! We were just looking through her wonderful scrapbook.” You directed the last part to Diana, wanting her to know how much you appreciated her trust. Spencer had the same embarrassed teenager look he did the previous day. 

“I’m glad you’re home Spencer, but it is late and I’m going to go get some rest.” His mother got up from the couch, and gave him a hug goodnight. Once she had disappeared back into the bedroom, you turned your attention back to Spencer. 

“There’s a plate for you in the fridge if you’re hungry by the way.” He still looked surprised, like he couldn’t believe you’d cook for him when he wasn’t even home. 

“Thank you, I have to finish a little bit more paperwork, but that sounds wonderful.” 

“It’s really no problem, I hope you like it. But before you start your paperwork, I’d like to request a magic trick.” He seemed perpetually confused. And he was. He couldn’t believe you, so happy, so sweet, and so kind. You wanted to see his dorky magic tricks and fix his books and talk to his mom. He knew you were being paid, but it wasn’t that much. Not enough for most people to go this far above and beyond. This was all you.

“You really want to see my magic?” 

“Yeah, I’ve never seen a magic trick in person, that’s really cool. And it’s a little easier to practice inside than the trapeze.” You both laughed, and his blush grew even deeper. He grabbed a set of cards from a prized spot on his bookshelf, part of the very small space not crowded with actual books.

He offered the cards, fanned out to you and asked you to pick one. You picked the ace of hearts. 

He pulled the 2 of diamonds, looking confident for maybe the first time since you met him. “Is this your card?” A part of you really wanted to lie. He looked so happy, but you just muttered a quiet no. He tried again, looking confused as to how he got it wrong the first time. This time he pulled the 6 of clubs 

“Is this your card?” You shook your head and he flipped through the deck, cards still facing down. Looking through as if something was missing, his brow furrowing as he did. You could see the moment realization struck, it was as if a cartoon lightbulb appeared over his head.

He leaned toward you and your breath hitched. Once your faces were so close you could’ve leaned forward and made contact, he pulled the correct card from your hair. And when he held it up for you, he smiled when you lit up. 

“Is this your card?” He spoke a lot quieter now, and he moved the little bit of hair that had fallen into your face during the trick back over your shoulder. When you thought you’d explode if he stayed this close without moving any closer, he did. His stubble grazed your face as he connected your lips. His were a little bit chapped, but they still felt soft the way he moved them. He sighed when he pulled away and you were worried you did something wrong. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so-so sorry.” 

“Why? I mean I know why the situation isn’t ideal, but why are you sorry?”

“Because you are currently relying on me not only for employment but for a place to stay, and I shouldn’t have just put that pressure on you. I lost control, and I’m so sorry. I understand if I made you uncomfortable.” He sat back down on the couch, but this time you followed him. You really liked him, even though you’d only known him a couple of days. 

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I don’t feel pressured, and I didn’t kiss you back because I’m currently staying in your house. I kissed you back because I wanted to, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you hugged me when I accepted the job.” He finally looked back at you, with those big brown puppy dog eyes, and you grabbed his hand. 

“Really? Are you sure you want that?” 

“Certain. Spencer, I really like you. And if you like me too, then we can talk about how that would work logistically. We could figure something out. If you don’t want that or don’t feel the same way, we can forget about this. We never have to talk about it again, and we can just keep it professional.”

“No!” He rushed out, his voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat, straightened his posture and started again. “I don’t want that, I do like you too. And I definitely want to figure this out.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. He liked you too. It felt so high school, but that made you want to either squeal with joy, or tackle him onto the couch. 

You settled on a cool neither, instead giving him a kiss on the nose as you got up from the couch. And he watched you, hesitantly letting your hand go, like he thought you said all that just to leave. 

“We are definitely having that conversation…tomorrow. You haven’t eaten and, cute as you may be, you look like you  haven’t slept in days. So we will finish this tomorrow, whenever you’re ready.” You pulled his plate from the fridge, placing it in the microwave so that he could eat something. He looked at you like you were the sun, the moon, and the stars. 

“You think I’m cute?” 

“Yes Dr. Hot stuff, I think you’re cute. I thought we just went over this?” He blushed even more at the doctor comment. You looked at each other until the timer snapped you out of it. You set the plate on the table and wished him a goodnight, as you moved to the guest bedroom. You couldn’t sleep, you were so excited. But you wanted him to be in the best possible headspace, this was a big decision. 

When Spencer finished his dinner and his paperwork he moved to the master bedroom, still buzzing with excitement. When he closed the door his mother stirred. She spoke quietly, still half asleep. 

“Spencer, you really should take Y/N out. I think she has a little crush on you. And you deserve someone who can take care of you.” Then she drifted back to sleep, but Spencer was still beaming. 

[deepfivetraveller]

King Baldwin iv x Time!traveler!reader

chapter 2

Chapter 1 | chapter 3

You get up from your bed and sit on the floor cross-legged. “System, I have the ability to by clothes from you right? Can you show me a few of the clothes available at your store?”

Sadly Miss Y/n, when I meant you can buy clothes through me, I meant you can buy the fabrics only. It showed you a plethora of fabrics, ranging from cheap cotton to colourful silk.

Now this is annoying. You might have basic skills to stitch a button and all but making an entire dress from scratch? Yeah, that’s impossible. Not to mention tailoring machines don’t even exist. Now you have no choice but to buy from traders

When you began your mission the system gave you some money as an achievement for starting the main quest, which was more than enough to rent a room at the inn. But now that you have a place to sleep for some time you should probably start thinking about how to finish that small side quest you started.

After calculating the benefits and losses of the decision you’re about to make, you snap your fingers at the thrill of discovery and lean towards the screen. “System show me the food products you have available.” Within seconds it shows you all forms of food at the online shop. You scroll down a few times and find exactly what you’re looking for. Pepper, chilli powder, chat masala and many more spices were shown and you clicked buy,buy,buy on all of them. Considering the fact that most of the spices here weren’t even discovered in this timeline you have some faith that they will blow off in the market when you sell them.

I think I know what you’re gonna do to finish the side quest miss Y/n…

Last night

“Sadly this seems to be a bad time for you and your father to set up your shop madame.” The man held a cresset lamp, which illuminated the path while his wife helped you walk across.

“Why do you say so sir?” You’re confused. He seemed a bit hesitant to say this and signs his wife to reply.

“Many people in Jerusalem have been going sick. And it’s no ordinary sickness, no, people’s legs are getting swollen, they bleed at the slightest of injuries and the gums inside their mouth become tender to the point that their teeth start to fall off. Most doctors call it ‘The Barlow's disease’ or something along those lines but most of us just call it ‘The loosener of teeth’”

Yeesh that was a gruesome description. People here have less immunity as it is and something like this ain’t gonna help them much.

“Is it really that bad?” She nods a yes. “The sick have increased to a point where the king himself has taken notice. Although he has hired physicians from other lands to cure the sick, most of the people who have the sickness don’t have the money to visit them.” She sighs in defeat.

Wait a minute…Swollen gums? Falling teeth? Barlow's disease? You’ve studies about this before in history class, it’s scurvy! It affects people with a lack of Vitamin C in their diet that is, sailors and the poor. It can be cured simply by eating food which has the vitamin. A wave of relief washes you since you definitely won't be getting it.

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem anymore madame.” You smile softly while the screen shows a pop up.

Side quest unlocked! Cure all people in Jerusalem from Scurvy.

Present

The stall for your shop was quickly set up, partially because the last owner just left the shop as it is. Within some time, all the spices were neatly displayed. By looking at other shops it was easy to decorate your own and it’s safe to say, yours was the most organised. It was extravagant, but not extravagant enough to drive the common people away.

Good job Miss Y/n! I’ll help you in whatever way I can to make the mission easy for you. I’ll try my best to get a discount on the rates in my store so you won't have to spend too much money on this!

“Thank you screen, that’ll help a lot. Honestly I’m doing it mostly for the money I’ll get after completing the side quest.” You remark while the screen giggles with its emoticon mouth. “By the way, just refer to me as Y/n. Miss Y/n feels too formal. Talk to me casually! You’re the only person that connects me to my time anyway.” You dryly chuckle, looking at the containers sadly. Even now you’re mind is not able to comprehend the fact that you’re in the past. It’s still trying to convince you, you’re in a foreign rural village.

“Excuse me.” you look at the young girl standing in front of your shop. “Do you have any pepper available?” So cute! She has such chubby cheeks too!

But immediately you notice her teeth. They look like as if they are about to fall; multiple of them. Her gums are also swollen, indicating she has the disease. So that's why her cheeks are chubby! Now you feel kinda bad for thinking its cute. “Yes we do darling how much do you want?”

“About 2 Livre (pounds) please.” She waited as you wrapped it up for her. “Do you wish to pay with your money or win it for free in a contest?” She squints her eyes. “Contest?”

With a bright smile you say “Yes a contest! This contest is an eating contest that only the people with Barlow's disease can contest in.” You show her a plate filled with oranges. “If the person is able to eat these oranges before the hourglass stops the person gets whatever they wish to buy for free! Remember, the more you want to buy, the more amount of fruit you have to eat.” You point out. At first you were a bit worried whether the girl would openly admit she has the disease since it’s considered shameful to openly admit a person is sick, but considering how her mouth was watering when she looked at the oranges, it was quite easy to determine she’d do anything for free food.

“W-Well…” She lifts her skirt a bit to show her swollen legs. “I have the sickness. Can I contest? If so, will my name be revealed for having the sickness??” Oh my god her cuteness is crushing your heart! “Oh no dear, nobody’s name shall be revealed, winner or participant. Do you want to contest?”

The girl nods vigorously as you set up the hourglass. The moment you tell her to start, she shoves all the slices of oranges into her mouth, making her choke. You panic and tell her to spit it out but she ignores your pleas and swallows them all, making her oesophagus hurt from the pressure.

You shift your demeanour and hand the pepper over to her. “C-Congrats! You won the contest! You can have this for free.”

She however is in a state of shock. To get good quality food for free is a miracle, a gift from God really. 

“Did I…really win this?”

“Yes love you did! What you ate was quite a large amount too. Well done!” It wasn’t. You calculated time and time again this morning to get the orange slices proportional to the food they were buying in such a way that anyone with weak teeth could win it. You even used the son of the man and wife you met at first as a guinea pig, by making him eat them in the name of ‘A thank you gift.’ His sickness decreased drastically and his teeth became strong sometime after the meal, which was quite startling to see since you’ve never seen anyone recover that fast.

The little girl looked at you with doe eyes. “Can I contest again?”

“No love, a person gets only one chance per day. You can come tomorrow to try!”

“I will!” She squeaks. “I loved that fruit too. It’s flavour was unlike anything i’ve eaten, being sweet and tangy at the same time.” Damn it's hard to believe she was even able to taste it after seeing the way she shoved it in her mouth. “I’ll come again tomorrow to try nice lady!”

“Spread a good word for me!” You yell as she waves goodbye. It didn’t take much time for your shop to go popular.You told about this contest to anyone who entered your shop. Many were disgusted at the fact the sick have come here but others saw this as an opportunity to get free food. The sick came to you in disguise at first but within the span of four days they didn’t even hide  their sickness anymore. People started viewing your shop as a clinic at some point, an they started lining up, some even carrying family members who’ve lost their ability to walk.

It got to the point where all of this was happening at a loss, so the best course of action was to sell the oranges to other fruit traders. It not only gave you a huge profit but also made sure the cure was spread to all corners of Jerusalem. Your oranges were rumoured to be ‘The miracle cure’ so they sold out of shops within seconds. The poor still came to you for the free ones but the rich considered it a luxury product due to its high rates at shops. Funny how these were the same people who were disgusted at your idea at first.

Within one and a half months the sick decreased drastically. Your name became popular which worried you alot since you’re probably under the radar of assassins or someone more dangerous. Your quest too was finished, and the system gave you a heep of money which was enough to buy a moderately big home. While people were being cured, your anxiety surged more and more. You were certain your life was under a threat.

One faithful day while you were instructing the new employees on how to take care of the shop, the crowd became silent. They made way for a bunch of men on horses. It was the crusaders.

Everyone including you bowed slightly as they made an announcement.

“Madame Y/n, the king has noticed your efforts on eradicating the Barlow's disease. He has decided to meet you at the royal court to thank you properly. We shall be heading there NOW.” Two guards came up to you and dragged you inside a carriage like vehicle, which was poorly made.

This wasn’t an invitation to give you rewards. The KING himself has decided you’re a witch and has demanded your presence in court, to decide how to execute you.