unlikelyaperson

[unlikelyaperson]

if i had a time machine and i wanted to absolutely destroy an ancient emperor or king, i would take them to the shark tunnel of an aquarium. giving them an ozymandias view of their legacy would do nothing, they can see that all empires rot just by looking around them. but the shark tunnel of an aquarium is something they haven’t seen before, something no one has seen before, something magnificent that they could build with technology only slightly out of their reach. they would bankrupt their nation trying to recreate that shark tunnel for themself. their dynasty would collapse within three generations, and, if heaven is on my side, they themself will be eaten by a shark to the delight of generations of historians to come

[unlikelyaperson]

You can tell a lot about the health of a civilization by their warning signs. Places with a lot of dumb folks will have very broad, very dumb warnings in public. "No feeding the birds." "Stop swimming in this drainage pond." That kind of thing.

Advanced civilizations have very precise signs. They've covered the bases of their regular, run-of-the-mill idiots, and now they're working hard to cover that other end of the bell curve: the talented idiot. When I was in Germany last time, there was a big warning sign that consisted of a 76-letter-long word that means "stop bothering this particular goose, Sven." I don't know who Sven was, but the goose looked pretty calm. It worked.

Now, I have a secret to tell you. You can just make your own signs. There's no law against it, except perhaps "littering," and the municipal sign factory doesn't have very good security. If you show up there past close and put in the door code that you shoulder-surfed off one of the employees returning from lunch a week prior, you have all night to fuck around with their sign-printing machine, making the most official-looking placards you can think of.

Is this wrong? I don't think so. It's a public space, and being able to put up an aluminum sign that says wacky crank shit is your right. For instance, just last week, I banned pickup trucks from parking by the playground. The cops figured out something was going on, because they didn't get any calls for toddlers getting backed over for a couple of days and sent a patrol truck to investigate. Took my sign right down.

What I discovered after that is that nobody keeps records of what signs are supposed to be there. Why would anyone put up a sign for no reason? They cost money, after all. The city is now suing the shit out of that officer for stealing the "no trucks" sign, thanks to an anonymous tipster who called in the theft. Guy wearing a reflective vest came by and put like four more of them up after the lawsuit made the news, just out of spite. I'm not entirely sure if he's actually a city worker; we ran into each other at 3am at the sign factory and just grunted. He was working on some really crazy signs about not feeding a particular swan. Probably German.

[unlikelyaperson]

the default way for things to taste is good. we know this because "tasty" means something tastes good. conversely, from the words "smelly" and "noisy" we can conclude that the default way for things to smell and sound is bad. interestingly there are no corresponding adjectives for the senses of sight and touch. the inescapable conclusion is that the most ordinary object possible is invisible and intangible, produces a hideous cacophony, smells terrible, but tastes delicious. and yet this description matches no object or phenomenon known to science or human experience. so what the fuck

[unlikelyaperson]

Finally we are alive 😭❤️‍🩹

The ceasefire has been implemented , I never expected to live this moment .🙏❤️❤️

This day is the birthday of all my people in Gaza, we cannot return to our homes, the war has left me no homes, my sadness for my home and my regret when I see people returning to their homes overcame my joy at the ceasefire, I really hope to live to see the day when I see my city rebuilt 🥹🤲🤲

Please help me rebuild my home and my life 😔💔

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #418 )✅️

[unlikelyaperson]

Urgent appeal

My name is Sondos, I am 21 years old, from northern Gaza. I suffer from chronic asthma. Our house was completely bombed, my father was injured in the head, we lost all our belongings, we were displaced several times, and we have no money at all to buy treatment for me and my father, in addition to the famine, lack of access to food and clothes, and the very high prices. We have lost everything 😭💔. I have created a donation campaign in the hope of getting enough aid for me and my family 🥹. My campaign is new and I have not received any help yet. Please donate as much as you can and save us 😭. Any amount you donate will help us a lot, please 💔

Please support my campaign to help my family, unfortunately my campaign is new and I have not received any support for the moment and I am also trying to help my family, I hope you will donate as much as you can

[unlikelyaperson]

Oh, so it's okay for Jesus to raise people back from the dead, but when I, Herbert West,

[unlikelyaperson]

look after you

an: this my first x reader fic LMAOO, i needed to write smth and this spencer was on my brain :// i am in the middle of a rly long donna fic but i cba this was much easier. also i absolutley have not proof read this sorry

synopsis: you get hurt while hunting down an unsub, after some reluctance (and kind words from papa rossi) you let spencer take care of you, 1.7k words

cw: descriptions of violence, panic attack, spencer swears and can drive (the most un-canon thing abt him) umm italians..., the rest is just fluffy, hurt/comfort, x reader but no y/n

masterlist

The unsub had his gun pointed at you, the cold press of the barrel against flesh. He was ranting and raving about needing to be seen and understood, having spent his childhood in emotional neglect. Teachers and parents failed him at every turn, it’s not his fault that this happened but he can fix it if he just drops the gun. Rossi tried to tell him this over and over, but he only got more angry, pushing the gun in harder and harder. 

If you were to open your eyes, you would’ve seen JJ and Luke there too, guns trained on the unsub. Their eyes glancing between you, the unsub, and the gun. But you didn’t. Not until the bang went off and you could breathe again. 

The flashing lights of the ambulance do nothing to dissuade the pressing headache you feel coming on, the movement of people helps even less. You watch as the EMT’s cart the unsub away on a gurney, sheet covering him. 

“You okay, kid?” Rossi asks from beside you, he had been hovering ever since the ambulance arrived. 

“I’m fine, just need a good night's rest. I’ll be good as new.” You hummed half-heartedly. 

David Rossi always knew when someone was lying to him, part of that talent comes from his job as a profiler, but it’s mostly because of some ancient Italian magic. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that to me. Look, Hotch is on his way with Reid and Emily. They’re gonna be taking some witness statements, but I imagine Boy Wonder will be a little distracted. I want you to let him take care of you, ok? You’ve been through hell tonight kid, let him worry.”

Italians never lie, although you wish they did. Spencer had very obviously caught feelings for you, everyone on the team could see it. Unfortunately, so could you. Spencer Reid was one of the kindest, most genuine people you had ever met, always putting other people's needs before his own. A voice in your head kept telling you that there is nothing you have done to deserve someone like him doting all over you? You had only brought trouble to the people who loved you. Eventually you learned that it was better to just keep everyone at a distance; if you don’t let them in, they can’t get hurt. Which worked well, up until Spencer.

He had such a wormy way of getting into your brain at the worst times; whether it was when you were alone in your kitchen, or at slightly dangerous, very inappropriate times on a case. You couldn’t stop thinking about him and his stupidly cute (and sometimes ill-timed) facts. Some part of you wanted to let him in, in the end the stubborn side always took over. 

Before long, you heard the worried cries of Spencer trying to find you in the chaos. Rossi called his name and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Remember, you deserve to be looked after too.” and left to find Hotch.

“Oh my god, are you okay? We tried to get here as soon as we could, but they managed to take down the unsub right? What happened, did he hurt you? How did you get so close? Talk to me are-” Oh, how he rambles. 

“Spencer, I’m fine. I just need to… rest, you know. He didn’t hurt me that bad, just a sprained wrist, couple bruises. Could’ve been worse.”

He spluttered, “Could’ve- you know, that doesn’t make this any better, I was so worried about you. He had a fucking gun to your head, I was going insane thinking about what could’ve happened. What did the EMT say about your wrist?”

“Just to rest it, and use an ice pack if it starts to swell or hurt.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, he was so worried about you. It made butterflies dance in your belly, but there was a twinge of guilt there too. He was so busy, he worked so hard and then went home to look after his mom. He had too much on his plate, how could you add more to it? “Spence, I’m really sorry about worrying you. I should be fine to leave now, so I’ll just head home and sleep it off. Have a good night.” You pushed yourself off the ambulance, eyes focused downwards, restless fingers fidgeting with the already frayed bandage.

“No- wait what are you talking about? You’re gonna drive yourself home in this condition? I can’t let you do that, even thinking about it makes me feel sick.” He lowered his head to yours and spoke softer this time, “Please let me take you home. I don’t have to stay, I just want to make sure you’re ok, ok?”

Fuck that voice did things to you. Leaning from side to side, you thought about what Rossi had said earlier. Maybe, it was ok to let someone in? It would be cruel to let him suffer more, not knowing if you were ok or somehow got in a car crash with 5 other vehicles on your way home. Just this once, you think.

Looking up into his soft eyes, you give a small nod. His lips immediately turned up into a smile, his hand comes up to cup your head, fingers stroking your cheek. It felt… nice. His thumb was calloused but he still moisturised enough for it to feel smooth, and he smelled like lemongrass and ginger. His hand fell to the small of your back as he guided you to his car. Ever the gentlemen, he opened your door and softly placed his hand over your head as you got in. Manoeuvring himself into the driver's side, he pulled out his phone and typed something, then quickly stuffed it away into a pocket and turned on the engine.

The sky was dark when you woke up. The unsub had a gun to your head at dusk, and Spencer was walking into your apartment when the moon was out. He took off his shoes and the door, and walked into your living room.

“I’ve never been here before,” he mused. “I like it.”

He looked at ease wandering around your apartment, his shoulders had relaxed and he let out soft musings as he perused your photo collections.

“Oh Spencer, not that one, it’s embarrassing!” You tried (with not a lot of effort) to pull him away from the frame.

“No this is cute, was this when you were at University?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you.

Oh my god. “Yeah, um- those were some of my friends at the time. I try and keep in touch but, you know.”

He hummed, pulling you closer into him. Finally content, he looked down at you. “How’s your wrist?”

“It’s ok,” you shrugged, “just a little tender now.”

“Where’s your kitchen, I can get some ice.”

“Spence-” you wanted to tell him no, to go home and look after himself. But his body was so warm, having him so close to you melted your brain, leaving you unable to think of any good reason as to why he should leave. “It’s the first door on the right.”

His grip tightened for a moment before he swiftly navigated you to the sofa, and turned to leave for the kitchen. The cold of the apartment rushed to get you as soon as he unraveled his arms. You hadn’t been alone all day since the unsubs attack, it somehow felt more claustrophobic. His hand on your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. The way he grabbed your arm, contorting it so he could throw you to the ground. The gun, pressed into your forehead. The knowledge that the only thing between you being alive, and you being in a ditch, was a madman's finger on the trigger. Reality faded as each memory pressed further and further into your mind. You weren’t in your apartment anymore, you could feel the cold concrete beneath your hands. The thick air in your lungs, Rossi and the unsub shouting.

A hand on your knee, a soft voice bringing you back. There was no unsub, no gun to your head. You were alive. You were alive and Spencer was in your apartment, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face.

“You with me?” His voice was so soft, you couldn’t recall ever hearing Spencer raise his voice in anger. He was so gentle when he touched you. 

The floodgates burst, choked sobs made their way past your lips. Your shoulder shook as you cried, pressing yourself into Spencer’s arms. “Oh honey,” He murmured, pressing his lips into your head, softly rocking you back and forth as you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. It was too much. You could have died today. Very nearly did. You weren’t ready to die, not yet at least.

As your cries softened into hiccups, you pushed yourself back from Spencer. “I’m sorry, that was so disgusting. It just all- I don’t know.”

 “Hey, you don’t ever have to apologise to me ok? What you went through was really scary, I’d honestly be more shocked if you didn’t cry.” His hand moved to draw soothing shapes along your back as you leaned back into him. “You want to watch something to calm down? I brought you some water and an ice pack for your wrist.”

He would be the death of you. You nod and push yourself back into the sofa, moving your wrist to rest in your lap. Spencer gently places the ice pack across your wrist and grips the tips of your fingers. He leans forward to push your cup of water towards you and grabs the TV remote, then turns and leans back so your side is pressed into his front. Truthfully, Spencer didn’t seem like the type to watch cable TV but he navigated the menu with somewhat ease. 

“Look at what’s on! It’s your favourite isn’t it, you want me to put it on.” He said as he nudged your shoulder.

He remembered your favourite film, of course he would remember it he has an eidetic memory. You hummed a yes as you relaxed your body further into his, finally content. Maybe Rossi was right, having Spencer close really wasn’t so bad after all.

[unlikelyaperson]

Spencer who learns that he loves when you play with his hair, and it's a total accident. He's so adamant that he doesn't like physical touch from the majority of people, and so the first time it happens, you're sitting together, watching a movie, and it's a mindless thing that you don't even realize you're doing. He probably shoots you a really confused look at first, like he's halfway ready to protest, but then he realizes oh actually thats kind of nice? and shuts up about it.

And after a while he learns to come to expect it from you whenever you're in close proximity, like maybe in bed or when he's reading at home. You never explicitly offer the gesture, and he never asks, but you kind of fall into a pattern that he just gets used to.

And then maybe one day you fall asleep before him and he's just lying there in bed like ??? uhh wait a minute??? because he's so used to falling asleep to you the feeling of your nails running across his scalp and he just has to sit there and remember how on earth he would ever fall asleep before that started. And then he would probably give in and try and get you to wake up by pretending that he's pulling you closer or something just to get you to stir enough that hopefully, you'll just do it on your own and you'll fall asleep like that, one hand still tangled in his hair and you just can't fathom that once this same man that rejected a handshake because germs requires physical contact to function.

[unlikelyaperson]

Hello, my name is Jaafar from North Gaza. I previously created a GoFoundMe donation campaign, and when I got $2,400, they deleted the campaign without knowing the reason. Please support me in my new campaign, Chuffed. Any amount you donate, even if it is small, will help buy flour and vegetables for my family. The price of everything we have is many times its normal price. Please help save my family from starvation! 🥹🙏

Please know that the beginning is difficult for everyone, donate even a small amount, it will definitely mean a lot to us 💔🥲

https://chuffed.org/project/helpjaafar

[unlikelyaperson]

"Ok, ma'am that'll be $226.03."

I take my wallet out of my pocket and unfold it. It is empty other than a single moth that lazily flies out. The moth lands on the tap point of the card reader. There's a beat, and my payment is processed. The moth flies back into my wallet and I put it back in my pocket.

[unlikelyaperson]

I think I should have one hundred billion dollars

[unlikelyaperson]

POSEIDON SKETCHES !!

The second sketch of the poseidon design I made, can't see the gold as much as in the sketch but I think it ended up being pretty cool.

Please ignore the poseidon HS, I didn't do any details or the crown because I was completely exhausted from drawing the whole design for 5 hours straight and I didn't want to wait too long to upload it.

[unlikelyaperson]

You know I’ve fully gone insane when I catify characters.

[unlikelyaperson]

Hello mouthwashing community, I present to you, my stupid ass OC, Nova

[unlikelyaperson]

(any time after the events of the vengeance saga & ithaca saga)

*under the ocean in poseidon's palace*

poseidon: *talking with amphitrite*

poseidon: i wouldn't wish that upon my worse enemy!

poseidon: *pauses and feels phantom pains from his old impalement wounds/scars*

poseidon: *eye twitching* ...unless of course...we're talking about my enemy, odysseus.

poseidon: *looking up at the ocean's surface from his underwater palace*

poseidon: fuck you odysseus, you know what you did!

amphitrite: ...

amphitrite: *sighs*

*meanwhile on ithaca*

odysseus: *yapping away with penelope whilst on a walk through the palace grounds*

odysseus: so then i said "cause i don't even have to kill you, i just have to avoid yo-"

odysseus: *violently sneezes*

penelope: ...

penelope: are you feeling unwell, my love?

odysseus: no i'm fine.

odysseus: i just get the feeling im being bad-mouthed...again

odysseus: *turns head and glares at the ocean*

[unlikelyaperson]

Somehow, Athena seems to have been immortalized with one gesture in particular

I call it the "Odysseus tf you do now?"

[unlikelyaperson]

"You all know i'm a fan of catchy songs!"