#i am surprisingly happy about this

[frogandbird]

dude i got so excited about this-

it took uhhh 4 hours according to procreate lol

@abbeyofcyn please enjoy :D

For the love of what little is holy, reblog my art dont like it

(progress shots + close ups + video below cut)

[vee-lociraptor]

ask game for jarthur, go.

[thegunslingerfollowed]

The problem is I have chronic guilt about something that I can’t control but everyone on tumblr would tell me I’m a bad person for. Unfortunately, this is the only place I can vent so this particular issue will just destroy me from the inside

[shy-sapphic-ace]

I JUST FINISHED CARDCAPTOR SAKURA WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH NY LIFE NOW 😭💕

[nopenototdaysatan]

Never have the chance

(if you want the full experience, go and pull up the song Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives. -Satan)

I think I always understood,

My hands weren’t clever but clumsy.

And yet I could see clearly

The way yours were.

Your bravery inspired me

While I watched you save our homes,

And yet I couldn’t even find the courage

To ask you to be my own.

With this heart of mine

That’s guilty, not remorseful;

I find the beating of my heart

Screaming out for you.

I wish I could let you know of this burning

Yet hopeful feeling in my chest;

But it would have buried you alive

If I had spoken it aloud.

I think I always knew

That we could never be.

Not someone as bright as you

With a shadow like me.

And so with these hands of mine

I’ll steer you away,

Free and unbound,

From the anchor that is me.

…

I'll watch your hands slip from mine

And watch as you walk away

Wishing for nothing more than

Your hands in mine once more.

And I’ll smile, large enough to hide

Everything falling apart inside.

I would lie again and again

For your happy ever after.

Goodbye Link.

-Love Ravio

[bittersweetresilience]

i'm not really one to post snippets but... you know, since i'm unlikely to publish any of this anyway... i was going back through my fics and i am thoroughly charmed by how much i forgot i wrote. in about two minutes i'm going to forget i'm a fine writer and i enjoy my work again but for now i'm riding the high... such is life

[boxwinebaddie]

hi nina! do you have any other songs that you think cd would cover? i just really liked new perspective and i think ur music taste is rlly cool :3

d'awww!!! hi there, sweet pea! <3

tysm for your ask but, before you start reading ( because this message got VERY long ), i just want to let everyone know that i used this ask to explain some Very Complex Ravenstan/Callgirl Fake Dating Lore...so if you are interested in that, it starts towards the middle of this ask...it's a lil chaotic, but i tried to make it as interesting and clear as i could! no obligation to read, ofc, as always, but i did want to preface this ask with that info, so you know this one is

*Secretly An Important RM Lore Ask.*

but back to what i was doing ( screaming ):

— because aAAAAAAAAAA!!!! c': <333

i am not even joking, you guys, despite the fact that my fic is based almost entirely around Music, i avoided answering music-related asks for so LONG bc i was legitimately so nervous about it being negatively perceived or read for filth on here, which, i Know, is silly because it's my fanfic and what i say goes, i can't change my music taste anymore than i can change the way my dna loops, but...idk.

like, i feel like A Lot of people are self conscious abt their music taste, but my social anxiety/inferiority complex can get so gnarly that i actually get Nervous when people ask me about what kind of music i like and i never EVER sit shot gun in cars bc i am...scared to aux. :/

iiiiiit's...That Bad. ( nina, please get therapy. )

i also feel like people in this fandom can get Very Intense about what kind of music they associate with the boys/what music the boys listen to and are FRIGHTENINGLY QUICK to rip people to shreds over opinions that don't align with theirs or aren't obscure or 'cool' enough.

bc of that, i try to be Very Lowkey on this blog because the larger part of this fandom and the criminally insane level at which they escalate petty fights over canon/fanon, like to the point that they are frothing at the mouth and start doxing people...gives me Extreme Stress. which, in my line of work, i actually CANNOT have happen.

tldr; i want absolutely NO part of it and like my lil corner.

thank you for keeping it Safe. <3

AND THANK YOU FOR ENJOYING MY MUSIC TASTE!!! EEEE c: <3 THAT IS SO REASURRING AND HEALING FOR ME TO HEAR!!!! MUSIC TO MY EARS, BABY! LITERALLY! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THAAAANK YOU! *holds you* *squishes you* *kisses ur head*

istg, if nothing else the fact that i have a bunch of you rocking out to New Perspective and positively associating it with my fanfic means that i have done my job and that's a legacy i'm willing to die with.

i'm being so serious, i feel like if rm was a tv show, it would play as the outro to every episode...but like a nice, soft, raw version w/ ravenstan on acoustic guitar to contrast the hard ass cd cover of style by tswizz that i think would open every episode...smh, nina, please, pleease stop imagining your unfinished, crack-fanfic as a netflix og series. >.>

BUT!!! okay!!!! in vein of trying not to worry about the perception of my music taste or what other people want from me...tHIS IS A KIND OF CONTREVERSIAL TAKE BUT I TIED IT TO THE PLOT, OKAY?

so, as a little nina lore and for context, when i was in elementary school around like 4th/5th grade, i was listening to like a lot of early y2k bangers, ig. dirty little secret by all american rejects, hey there delilah by the plain white tees, girlfriend by avril lavigne core, etc.

( just to make you giggle, i also had a ps2 and there was a series of video games called singstar that were some off shoot of rockband/gh that had mics you plugged directly into the system...pls note my high score on sk8r boi really should be put in the guinness world records, like if you held a gun to my head and told me to sing that song, i not only would i fuck it up but i would LIVE, baby! better luck next time! )

...it was also around early disney channel times ( the disney channel games with the team colors...that was my OLYMPICS, bitch! ) and i had this Disney Pop Hits Vol...1? i think? cd i used to play on the prehistoric radio thing in my room and my favorite song on it was...

pop princess by the click five.

AND I KNOW!!! I KNOOOOOW!!!! controversial take, but i am sorry, THAT SONG FUCKS!!!! THAT SONG IS SOOOO AWESOME!!!!!

and i feel like when ravenstan was fake dating call girl during the great hate south park embark, cd covered it: i am picturing a less finger-bang, btr, disney channel esqe sound and more of a pop-punk, pedal to the metal, electric guitar type, edgy rockstar boy typa beat.

but Yes, i think ravenstan covered it or idk i really think that it was made FOR call girl. and it was BAD ASF. i also think bc tcf wrote that song about hannah montana ( iconic ), and bc call girl is basically the whole internet's e-girl bubblegum pop princess in my fanfic, it just...

makes...Sense.

am i making sense? do we see the vision? aka rs in his lil pants w/ the ripped red and black flannel tied around his waist, fallin to his knees, singing his heart out, pointing at her, winking? PPL DIIIIIIIIIED.

and by people, i do mean jerseykyle n bebe who were MAD AS HELL,

-- but also tapping their toe...smh.

it was both very cool and very annoying. RIP.

( ...do i have jersey and bebe make out during the pop princess call girl tribute as mlm/wlw solidarity? HEEEELP ICOOONIC *jk vibrating with stress and anger vc* barbara, i need you to do somethin for me don't ask questions, i'll explain later, It's Important sdks MESSY! )

BUT OKAY!!!! SPEAAAAKING OF THEM AND THAT AND CALLGIRL AND RAVEN OF CRIMSON DAWN DATING!!!! i wanted to give you some lore and some spoilery plot about that/them bc it is burning a Hole in my brain...i must discuss r.s. and call girl becaaaause

~Its....Complicated.~

ANYWAYS!!!! IMPORTANT PLOT TIME!!!!

so, for more context: i am currently working on another ask abt how ike found out that jerseykyle/ravenstan used to be dating and during that conversation in kyle's room about three days into the sp trip, CONCURRENTLY somewhere Else, ravenstan and call girl are getting ready to do some flashy PR thing like go on a date/get din, idk.

BUT RIGHT BEFORE IT: ravenstan and call girl are alone together, and ravenstan, who, i am not even kidding you, is sooo fucking Pissed that this is EVEN HAPPENING because kyle is super mad at him, was like you are Actually Dead to me, WILL NOT TALK TO HIM...

( which without spoiling too much -- is actually why ike can tell that somethin Fucked Up is happening because j.k. is super aggressive and loud and is not afraid to Fuck Your Shit Up...but has not laid a FINGER on raven of crimson dawn...and actually, seems to not even want to be Near him, barely acknowledges his existence, leaves rooms that he is in and is Radio Silent around him...WHICH IS TWICE AS SCARY AS J.K. YELLING AND TRYING TO KILL YOU. so, uhh, Not fucking...Good, you guys. ike was like...this is...not fucking normal. )

but again, he cannot tell kyle what is going on bc he might actuuuuallly get MURDERED??? uh???

anyways, in whatever secure, secluded space rae/cg are in ( its somewhere private, i pictured a dressing room of sorts, like a makeup trailer, somewhere they have to take pics ) stan is Extremely Straight Up with her and says something to the effect of:

"i have no idea what you think this is or what you want this to be or what they told you, but we are not dating and this...is NOT. Real."

and call girl ( aka wendy whose identity is a secret to EVERYONE, No One has seen the bottom half of call girl's face...Ever. she changes her wigs everyday, they are Very Elaborate and is always in a very high tech face mask that covers her face from the nose down and uses a voice modulator to mask her speaking voice...a mysterious queen ) oddly enough seems completely relieved by this statement and is like

*squints*

"don't worry, Emo Boy. feeling is mutual. like, no offense, but you are seriously...not my type. Ew. trust me, i don’t want to do this either but,

— I Have To."

wHICHSHDLSKDHLSD SHE GUTTED HIM HELP. he was *gigantic stan slow eye blinks in shock* like "right, okay, Ow. that was...Mean." kshdlksdls but then was "--but i am glad we...agree. i Also HAVE To. not because of publicity, it's...Deeper than that...i can't really ta--"

to which call girl, locking eyes with him, dead seriously, lowering her modulated voice is like...

"it's tenorman, right?

He Threatened You."

and r.s, gagged! Again!!! is like

"holy shit, he THREATENED /YOU/ TOO?!?!"

and call girl nods very slowly and starts to say

"he told me if i didn't do it he would..."

and rs with the same kind of mounting horror whispers

" — Kill Everyone You Love And Care About?"

which, at this point, folks, they are both like...

...WOAH.

bc they realize they are both stuck in the same torture chamber together, they Both got cornered into this really elaborate ruse and have to keep it up in order to keep the people that they love Safe and it's...A Lot. it...really is. but it's also sort of freeing and cathartic to knowing you are not alone going through what is pretty much the worst thing that has ever happened to you in your entire life.

i also feel like...there is this natural bond. this Energy between them. like they understand/see each other and feel...safe with one another.

and call girl, guard still up, dips a toe in uncharted water, and goes:

"well...since were partners in crime now and have to live a lie in public...i think we at least owe it to each other in private...

...to be Real."

she offers this bc they have reached an understanding, an impasse, a standstill, a draw of sorts. and there is a thick tension...as well as this crescendoing vulnerability that hangs the air with her ultimatum as they stare warily at each other, strangers, both wearing still wearing their masks, call girl physically in hers and stan in his metaphorical one doing the dark, raspy smoke and mirrors raven voice bc he is...not sure about her in the same way that she is...

...still not sure abt him.

( they are basically that one spiderman meme where both the spidermans are holding each other at gun point. ) and it's a huge Risk to indulge her request, but again...they both have everything to lose.

and no one...but Eachother.

so he indulges her very tentatively and counters:

"alright...then, tell me something Real, call girl."

to which she nods, closes her eyes and goes. "fine. my real name..."

call girl trails off, reaches up to tap the voice modulator on her mask, turns it off, reaches out her rhine-stoned, sequined, hot pink faux leather gloved hand out to shake his and in her real voice, says,

" — Is Wendy."

and this...is a Very BIG Deal.

again, no one has ever heard call girl's voice before. no one knows what her name is or Anything about her. she doesn't even preform live, she does virtual concerts and is basically this sort of mysterious, ai, vocaloid/miku internet personality that is very Carefully and elaborately Coded and ENCRYPTED to keep her identity Safe.

so her turning off her voice mod and speaking to stan, not as a fictional, larger than life computer-generated celebrity, but as a human being...is massive.

it's also very...Comforting to ravenstan.

who has not been himself...for a very long time. and it's not smart, it's not a good idea, but he decides to trust her and in turn,

in his real voice, says,

"stan. my name...is Stan.

It's Nice To Meet You, Wendy."

he shakes her hand and she shakes his.

she says, "it's nice to meet you too, stan." :)

and it feels...Nice. it should feel wrong, what they're doing, but it feels right, it feels fucking amazing to stop Preforming. she knows his name, she's seen his face...but realizes he still has not seen Hers and running on adrenaline, bolstered by a rare surge of bravery, chinks at her armor, or mask rather, and makes a motion.

literally.

bc he reaches up towards her face and goes, "oof. it's nice to hear your human voice; the dystopian robot voice was lowkey espantoso."

he laughs, it's genuine and super ugly, god bless him. so you Know he's being really real when he asks "but...if it's all the same to you. if were going to speak freely; i'd like to...see Who i am speaking to.

so can i, please, uh...see your Face? your whole face.

your...Real face."

and oof. this...is a little nerve-wracking for wendalends.

she's neeeever taken the mask off. ever. Ever. EVER.

For A-n-y-o-n-e.

but...she might never have the chance again and it is...really stuffy under there. so she Agrees and lets stan remove her face apparatus.

ravenstan does say "Wowza." HDLKSHDSl amazing.

he's also my boyfail king and says something very fucking stupid like

"sorry, you're REALLY Pretty. i was worried might look like deadpool under there." she smiles, it's beautiful. no one has seen her real smile before as call girl and thanks him. she goes on to apologize and is like

"thank you, stan. you're really sweet and i...am sorry i said 'ew'. it's not because you're ugly, you're kind of...Cute for a guy, actually? you have really nice bone structure and very kind eyes. it's just, when i said you weren't my type i meant Boys. in...general."

her voice shakes a little, she's never admitted this out loud before, not even to her girlfriend. but she trusts stan with the nice bone structure and dumb ugly laugh and very kind eyes, so she says

"i'm a...Lesbian.

i'm also Seeing Someone at the moment.

It's Complicated."

and stan is like, skhdlsd way too excited to talk about kyle, and is like

"okay, whew! i'm ALSO seeing someone! or well..." then remembers and is like oooof "well...i Was...seeing someone i guess. it's..."

my man is Depressed and is trying to change the subject because he realizes he actually can't talk about kyle because not only is cartman going to kill him if he does...he is also gonna freakin K!ll Himself because he's actually so sad that kyle currently hates his GUTS.

so he sighs, echoing her and admits "It's...Complicated." :/

he wants to hear something nice though, something real...and nice. because he is a romantico king. who believes more than anything...

in Love.

so he asks her what her girlfriend's name is. <3 :')

annnd i think she is About to say bebe's name...but realizes if she does, it will completely blow her cover.

like her ACTUAL Cover.

because stan knowing her first name and her what she looks like under the mask is one thing...but the second she says bebe's name, it's going to reveal that she is kyle's bebe's wen/wendyl which...is

Meeeeessy.

but she reasons ( as an intelligent, rational queen ) that regardless of how messy things get, her and stan are in this mess together and that the best time to make a mess...is when you are Coming Clean.

still...this is...very sensitive information. she’s not sure how he's gonna take it and needs some sort of collateral.

so she states her terms.

and call girl, who stan now knows is wendy, but not bebe's current girlfriend ( yet ) says "okay. i am going to tell you something, but in order to do it. i have to tell you...Everything. in exchange, i need YOU to tell me Everything. i am going to give you One Chance to do so willingly. if not...i do not care how untraceable you Think you are, i am very familiar with the dark web and i will find out everything i Need to know about you. and do with that information...What. I. Please.

...so /please./ promise me you won't tell anyone about what i am about to tell you...and then, tell me...stan...Something Real."

stan agrees and wendy goes into everything. comes out as trans to him and explains her origin story. ( i started to write everything in this ask but it got too long, i'll tell you all about call girl/wendy in another ask i have a couple in the box i can use, haha. ) she tells him pretty much everything ( it's a big therapy session in there ) up until this point, gaydhd ravenstan...manages to understand

Everything.

and when she finishes, true to the deal, she gently volleys the ball into his court, ( they are friends now, aw <3 ) and softly goes:

"okay...Your Turn."

and so ravenstan...who is Deeply Inspired by wendy...Wowza. he seriously thinks she is so fucking cool and ALSO A TRANS ICON??? HELLO? he feels v seen and heard and safe, so uh...jesus christ, he grabs wendy's hands, takes a veeeeeery deep breath and goes,

"so, i...

— Am DEAD."

LKHDSHSDLKDS HEEELP KSHLKDS

annnnnnd proceeds to tell her everything.

and i do mean...Everything.

they talk for the rest of the night basically, having this heart to heart, at the same time that, unbeknownst to ravenstan, jerseykyle and ike are also having a heart to heart....wendy and stan are platonic besties, they agree to keep each other's secrets as t4t legends stuck in cartman's fucked up marionette hell together, they agree to keep their crazy charade up while they try and find a way out/back to bebe and kyle, take some v convincing publicity pictures together ( i do think jk and bebe see them and want to die So Bad, it's not funny...bebe/jk or wendy/rs...choose your doomed broship. Fml. )

and that's...

Your Crazy Uncle Nina RM Lore Drop For The Night!

i hope you enjoyed it, haha. <3 please feel free to drop me a line in the ole ask box about it and ofc, as always, to ask me anything you would like! if you're still with me...after all this time. thank you so much for supporting me and enjoying my content.

it means...Everything to me.

and in writing something fake...

thank you all:

for being my Something Real. <3 c':

-uncle nina, callgirl/raven superfan

[quatregats]

Also in unrelated news I have channeled my hatred for Hornblower receiving ~Visions Of The Future™~ into an AU in which Hornblower is literally a sibyl and I am using it to further all of my delightful and horrific Hornblower agendas <3

[thehappiestgolucky]

actually insane how much baldurs gate has consumed my braincells rn. like i wanna doodle it but i’m too consumed by playing it to doodle girl help-

[potter-inthe-tardis]

My Top 10 Songs of 2022

If you're curious about my top 10 k-pop songs of 2022 check them out here!!!

Cypress By Sarah Kinsley

That's Our Lamp By Mitski

In Flight By Sunflower Bean

Happiness By The 1975

Love, Try Not To Let Go By Julia Jacklin

Tonight By Phoenix Featuring Ezra Koenig

Mr. Schwartz By Arctic Monkeys

Angelica By Wet Leg

Sidelines By Phoebe Bridgers

Bad Habit By Steve Lacy

I'm tagging: @pieces-of-silverwing @heichoumama @imaginationofacrazyfangirl @a-rhinestone-cowboy @vauqita @peter-kirkland @roseamiginger @thesetwoinone @american-virtues @littlemisssweetdreams and anyone who happens to see this im also tagging you! And as always you dont have to do this but it would be fun if you did!!!

[seyaryminamoto]

I'll be in the minority here, but I'd be okay-ish with Rei and Renkai becoming a couple if its handled with care. This is unusual for me since I rarely go for big age gap relationships. Though, to me, its not the age gap itself, but what I call the Maturity Gap. There needs to be a balance of life experience, if that makes sense. There's 20 year olds who've lived through, seen and experienced as much if not more than some 40 year olds. But that's usually rare, so I rarely support age gap ships.

Hahaha, I understand that position, and I'll be honest, while I'm not a huuuuuge fan of age gaps, I wouldn't jump outright to condemn them every single time. Context definitely matters, I don't think every age gap involves grooming, particularly if we're talking about adults. People of different walks of life can absolutely come together to find common interests with someone who's much younger or much older than themselves, so it's not completely out of the question for me.

The maturity gap makes sense, of course. There's definitely some people who are older and do not have the maturity of their age, just as the opposite can be true, someone can be too young to be so wise... but in these cases, I honestly leave it to each person who's in those situations, (provided they're all adults (and always have been across their relationship) and aren't making their decisions under the wrong influences).

In Rei and Renkai's case, though, I don't really think it would be all that instinctive for them to become an item. In a sense, I suspect it might feel repetitive, too -- we already have Song and Rui Shi's romance, and let me tell you, getting those two to GET STARTED was not easy x'D they were supposed to plant the proper seeds for romance as early as the end of the first Pairs Tournament, but it just didn't feel right... so they just hugged and rejoiced in Rui Shi's confirmation that Myeung was alive and safe and sound. So I had no choice but to push Song as hard as I did in the second arc of Part 2 to make her act on her feelings, if for the wrong reasons, or else they would've just danced circles around each other FOREVER. So, if those two took LONGER than Sokka and Azula to get anything started? I guarantee Rei and Renkai would be that much worse x'D And as we've also seen a relationship that has similar dynamics to this one, I feel like it might not be all that interesting to explore another relationship between a commoner girl and the captain of Azula's guards.

Now, going a little further, in terms of speaking about the characters themselves... I don't think Renkai is someone who's really looking for love. Rei? Considering her background, she's looking for the stability of a family that really cares about her, and she absolutely has found that with Azula primarily, with Song and Renkai in second place. Renkai has definitely bonded with Rei and Song, but I think it's a pretty innocent bond. He wants Song to be happy and find her way to Rui Shi again, just as he wants that for Azula with Sokka... and he wants Rei to be happy, too, in the same sense. He doesn't really perceive her all that differently as he does the other two. I don't really think it would be easy for him to think of her as a potential romantic partner for himself. That's really not on his mind at all. In that sense, he's a bit like Mei Xun, both of them are just... not looking for love for themselves, at all. They're happy to support other people in their lives who want and are looking for it, but they're not exactly desperate to find it themselves.

As for Rei, I think she would need like... 5-7 years of calm and stability to finally start thinking if she wants romantic love. I really laughed while writing her first thorough conversation with Song, where she was so confused by the concept of having sex with someone she liked, and she outright asked "would I have to?" because she's just... not really seeing the appeal of the concept at all x'D so, until she finds the appeal and has stabilized sufficiently, I think she's going to focus on pursuing her academic interests, and basically making up for all the time she sacrificed/wasted due to both of her birth parents and the circumstances she was stuck in.

So... would it be possible for something to happen between those two once they're ready? Maybe, and she'd definitely be adult enough at that point where people shouldn't feel suuuuper uncomfortable with the concept, even if they aren't big on age gaps. But there's ALSO the possibility that she might meet other people and fall in love with someone else (who knows, maybe Renkai could, too!). Point is... it's not going to happen within the scope of the story x'D potential-wise, they could have a decent relationship, absolutely, but neither character, at this point in time, is looking for romantic love or needs it all that much, they're motivated much more powerfully by other things instead.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

Today was a little meh

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[widevibratobitch]

unhinged characters: edward little and james fitzjames? and hodgson [eyes emoji]

ohhhhhHhHHHhHh terror brainrot <333

little

fitzjames

hodgson

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[fable-x4]

Doing this because it makes me happy •Ꮂ•. Im making it difficult on all of you though.

1 note- I'll go drink water

10 notes - I'll set alarms to actually care for myself

50 notes - set up a daily productivity system so I stop wasting my time doing nothing.

100 notes - ask my friends to help me buy a skirt

500 notes - get a bra & a whole bunch of other affirming clothing !!!

1k - tell my dad that my gf is also trans

2.5k - ask my dad to address me by my prefferred name & pronouns 1k went pretty poorly, so I dont feel super comfortable making an attempt on this.

5k - try to get therapy/psychologist

10k - girl mode at all times (start actively wearing makeup/clothing/doing voice training around people at all times)

50k - try for HRT (0% chance) (also no guarantee on this one)

Asfgg. It feels surprisingly good to have a bunch of strangers who want me to be happy

I have now set up alarms for eating, waking up, and hygene related stuff. I seriously doubt we get to 500, but this has made me significantly happier •Ꮂ•

Doing some math... 25 notes in 4 hours. 6.25 notes per hour. 8000 hours or 333 days until this hits 50k. Hrt in a year ig.

Um. Wow. Its been a day, and we're almost at 300. Everything 500 & below was supposed to be things I'd do with minimal intervention. But now, we're getting to the scarier stuff. I am very intimidated, but also excited

My gf really badly wanted to be here when I buy some of the clothing, so the skirt will be this week, the rest of the clothing will be when she comes back from vacation

Saying that you're force femming me is so not allowed. This is unfair. You have no right to make me feel the ways Im feelingggg. Stop making me happy.

Welp. I told him about my girlfriend. And things went about as poorly as expected. He said that Im parroting what other people think. Slowly taking little parts of them, and applying them to myself. Specifically, being trans. He didnt even leave it to maybes. He said with certainty that I was copying everyone else. I know 9 trans people total. Only 2 of them are my close friends. Everyone else, Im barely aquaintences with. I should have told him that regardless of whatever theories he has, this has boosted my confidence massively. Slightly less excited for 2.5k notes. At least everything after that is very positive. And at least this lets me talk about my girlfriend for ages. I dont have to say her deadname through gritted teeth. Oh context. He already knows Im trans but was ignoring it.

I GOT A SKIRT!!!!!

Thank all of you so much. At first when I got the skirt, I was pretty intimidated by the idea of showing my legs. I thought everyone will just see me as a man. But there's a degree of confidence you all have given me. Yeah. Im pretty. Yeah, Im beautiful even. Yeah. Its a friggin fantastic skirt. And anyone who thinks otherwise is dumb. Im happy, and thats what matters.