#I'm also afraid of physics now

[hylianengineer]

I saw another post debating whether kids should have access to the adult secrion of the library (the answer is yes), and in response I present this list of 'adult' books I took a random interest in at the age of twelve or thirteen

Physics for dummies

String theory for dummies

Quantum physics for dummies

Calculus for dummies (because there was calc in the quantum physics book)

Trigonometry for dummies (because I needed it as background info for the calculus)

Parents beware: given unrestricted library access, your child may attempt to learn calculus as a result of a special interest in theoretical physics - or chase some other special interest into the depths of the grown-up nonfiction section. I did not actually understand the calculus, or the trig either, and eventually got bored and gave up, but I did have fun with it for a while. And when I got to the point of being able to take classes in physics, trig, and calc, I wasn't scared of them.

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[zylphiacrowley]

Love.

<previous - next>

[mad-hunts]

okay, but it's the way that listening to songs sometimes reminds me of these random OC's that i have come up with over the years though JSJSJ like i have nottt thought of this one in a WHILE... but i once had an OC named ilias whose parents basically had a dream related to wealth due to his birth + so they took it as a prophecy because they always wished to have money as they lived in poverty for as long as they could remember. thus, they were superrr overprotective of him growing up to the point of obsession because they started seeing him as like their 'savior' in a way. and at the age of like six years old, he ended up developing the 'midas touch' or the ability to turn things into gold with a touch except he ALSO couldn't turn it off like midas + it only started with small things like insects at first but then spread to things like people and animals being turned into gold by his touch?

and that is SO incredibly sad whenever i think about it?? but also, IDK... i think i might've been cooking slightly whenever i thought of this idea. not to brag or anything, of course LOL buttt the commentary i could be using this kind of story for related to how capitalism is horrible and how greed can quickly overpower people is something i'd definitely be interested in now, i think. but SKSKS if y'all have any thoughts about this, then please feel free to comment them below because i'd love to hear them :)

[sewi-li-suwi]

Fact: The Earth rotates very quickly. As a result, different parts of the Earth move at different speeds - the equator at about 1670km/h, and the poles at none.

Fact: Summon Object can be used to move an object from any location to a space near you.

Thought: By summoning an object from the equator, it will be moving West at a significant speed. Likewise, by summoning an object from a pole it will be moving East at a significant speed.

Fact: I live in England.

Fact: England has a longitude of roughly 54⁰. The radius of the Earth is roughly 6321km.

Thought: If my maths is right, England moves at roughly 1324km/h.

Fact: 1324km/h is a reasonable speed for a bullet.

Fact: 1324km/h is Faster than the speed of sound.

Conclusion: By casting Summon Object on rocks in The North Pole, you can create bullets from thin air.

[antique-symbolism]

I keep vacillating wildly between "my chronic illness is generally well controlled and with a little additional effort I can maintain my body for decades to come at a reasonable level of activity with minimal damage" and "my entire body is going to break down in the next ten years and I will lose the ability to do all things I love and my life will be an empty, exhausting, painful void" and I absolutely do not know how to remain realistic and positive on a consistent basis

[zevrans-archive]

[kalevalakryze]



If a reader was to make you fanart from one of your works which scene would you love to see visualized?

Oh asdfghjkl

I’ve never considered it actually

I think it's a run up for aliit ori'shya tal'din, when Bo-Katan was holding Grogu on her chest?

“Family is important, endlessly so. While they do not deserve your love for simply existing, when they are willing to accept you, however you may come, whatever you may have done, we can’t take that for granted,”

The sounds of a pair of footsteps echoed through the hall, and soon enough, the gold and silver duo appeared under the torchlight of the caverns.

“Hey, look at that, our aliit,” She whispered, giving Grogu a gentle nudge, before he was using the force to fling himself into his father’s arms.

Or the runup, because of the wolfwren brainrot, Mine , when Sabine tugs her jacket onto Shin's shoulders and fixes her armor pieces onto it to give them a splash of color?

Once she was on solid ground, Sabine started pulling her arms through her jacket. She’d spent ages sewing each patch on, and they’d meant a lot to her (Shin meant a lot to her, but she wasn’t about to just say that.

Free of the jacket, Sabine ducked around to Shin’s back before the force sensitive could stop her, draping the jacket over her shoulders and giving a thoughtful hum of approval. “Not bad, your armor’s getting in the way though,”

Cheeks red, Shin turned to face Sabine as their brows furrowed. “If this is some excuse to get me out of my armor-“

The Mandalorian shifted to tuck her fingers into the belt around her waist, her other hand grasping the fabric of her skirts in a fist. “kurs’kaded,” A shiver ran down Shin’s spine at the name. “If I wanted to do something, I would have,” Sabine’s voice dropped into a whisper that shot straight to her core. “You wanted to mark me,” She repeated, hand raising to cup Shin’s face, thumb pressing against her bottom lip, barely avoiding the snap of jaws as the blonde tried to bite her thumb. “Maybe I wanted to mark you in a way that meant more to me than a bruise or a scar,”

Shin eyed her with an air of distrust as she reached for their shoulder pauldron, undoing the straps around their biceps to remove the pieces. Sabine tucked them between her knees before helping Shins arms through the sleeves. It was almost a perfect fit, though the force sensitive wouldn’t be able to zip it and still have her full range of maneuverability.

Gently, Sabine reattached the armor to the outsides of the jacket, focusing anywhere but the inquisitive steel blue eyes that had been watching her like a hawk. “See, a splash of color didn’t kill you,”

[neverendingford]

.

[madlori]

My ankle journey

I am sharing this with all you good people on the dash because I am so fucking mad it took so long for me to learn it and if I can spare one (1) person the agony it will be worth it.

So for like...oh, 8 or 9 months, I've been struggling with pain/inflammation/tendinitis in my left Achilles tendon. I don't know what caused it. It just started up (welcome to middle age, this shit happens). It wasn't severe enough to be debilitating, but it was annoying and limiting. It was also intermittent, in that some days it would be very painful and other days hardly at all. The kind of shoe I was wearing affected it a lot.

Now, I have bone spurs on both heels (it's just a thing that happens as you get older sometimes). I'm also aware that heel pain is usually the result of tight calf muscles that pull and irritate the tendon. I tried stretching that calf muscle. You know the stretch, this bitch right here:

I did it all the time. I also iced the ankle after walking for awhile, hoping to avoid inflammation. Results were...unsatisfying.

I went to:

A chiropractor

A podiatrist

A physical therapist

A bodywork coach

They all gave me some variation on the "strengthen your calf muscle, stretch your calf muscle" advice. I continued doing this without results.

I was getting frustrated, and a little afraid that this was just my life now. Finally, I thought...maybe some targeted massage might help. I asked for rec on a local FB site and was pointed to a woman who specializes in therapeutic massage including cupping, etc.

I went to her a week ago.

She spent over half our first session working on my left lower leg. Within about 10 minutes of making my eyes water, she uttered the sentence I did not know I had been waiting to hear:

"Oh, it's your soleus."

Excuse me, what?

"It's your soleus that's the culprit. It's all tied up and stiff." She started digging into it and I felt literal sparks run up my leg as she released adhesions and got the muscle moving a little. When she finally put the leg down, it felt like it was on fire with all the blood rushing into it.

She said, "You'll need to stretch your soleus. It'll clear up, but it'll take a bit of time - tendons take ages to heal."

But I HAVE been stretching.

"No, you haven't. The usual straight-leg calf stretch only stretches the gastrocnemius, that's the big belly muscle in your calf. That's not your problem. That stretch doesn't stretch the soleus. Don't worry, I'll show you how to stretch it."

My mind is spinning.

So here are the muscles in question:

The gastroc (as the pros call it) just attaches down the back but the soleus runs underneath it from the knee around the side to the heel. The lower part above the ankle is where it typically gets tight and forms adhesions.

To stretch it, you do the same calf thing where you put your foot back and press your heel to the ground, but you have to do it with your KNEE BENT:

The bent knee keeps the gastroc from engaging. It's one of those selfish muscles (like traps) - if you give it an inch, it'll just take over and prevent other muscles from working or stretching. There are other ways to stretch the soleus but this is the easiest and you can literally do it anywhere. I've been doing it while standing and waiting for things (the elevator to come, the toast to toast). You just put the heel back and bend the knee. It's kind of like curtseying.

The minute I did this stretch, I could FEEL where it was pulling on my tendon. I knew that THIS had been the problem.

The massage therapist also told me to stop icing my heel. She said icing is for an acute injury, but a more chronic aggravation needs heat, to increase blood flow for healing. She recommended elevation with heat every day (I've been doing it in bed during "phone before bed" time).

I have been doing the soleus stretch at least half a dozen times a day for almost a week, and the ankle is at least 70% better. It is still a little tight and tender, but the improvement is significant. I think a few more weeks will have it feeling normal.

I am...blown away by this. This massage therapist was able to pinpoint an issue in only a few minutes that eluded all the other professionals I saw. I can't wait to go back to her and have her solve all my other problems, tbh.

[la-princessaa]

I call this a weird amount of flowery words but I'm struggling so I wrote it out. usually I keep these things in my journal but whatever. if anyone has any advice that's cool. by fall out boy

I have a question, a worry, that goes so deep and so raw it chokes out my dreams at night, some of my enjoyment unless I shove it hard like a box under the bed. And then it comes back. The fear nauseates me, the need for an answer clawing at my chest. The fear of the answer like a weight around my ankles. I'm so afraid to ask. It hits me in waves sometimes so intense that I want to just blurt it out. To get rid of it. To put it into the world and whatever happens, happens. To get it out of me. To get that box that keeps coming back out from under my bed away from me. To dig into my chest and pull out whatever organ keeps making it tight. To pull out whatever causes me to shake and sit motionless on the shower floor because the weight makes it hard to move. It hurts. It burns at the back of my throat daily, hourly. Bitter bile. It tastes like... It tastes like the worst news you've ever gotten in your life. It tastes like your stomach sinking to your feet because your world exploded. It tastes like fear. Agony. It tastes like obsession that won't be satisfied until it is planted elsewhere or buried. But to do that it needs to be put into the world. 

I'm realizing some things I can't squash down. I've been advised to. I've been told to just keep this in me. To let it rot me from the inside out, although not knowingly. But it's worming its way into every aspect of my life. Devouring me. Melting holes in my bones. It's probably not necessary to ask. Or so I've been told. I'm rotting. I'm dying. 

But I should probably wait.

[motomamita]

farmer!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, arranged marriage, breeding kink!

könig never thought that the love of his life would take so long to arrive, much less in such a small town where he lived and where everyone knew everyone. but yes, he just turned 30 he found himself totally alone, without a wife, girlfriend or even someone to fuck with without commitments.

being an only child, his parents rushed to find the right woman for him. they had to ensure that their legacy would continue and their lands would be passed down to their future grandchildren.

that's where you come in, also the only daughter of a couple of lumberjacks and with a long list of suitors. although you could choose any boy in the town, your parents quickly paired you with könig, who was the son of the wealthiest family in the place.

you didn't know könig personally but you had seen him from time to time on the streets driving his truck carrying fruits and vegetables to supply the businesses. you knew that he was older than you, not only in age but also in body. he always had a serious face and a look that forced you to lower your head because of how intimidating he was.

your families introduced you one day where they had lunch and talked about how beneficial it would be for both of you to get married. könig didn't contribute much, as he spent all that time looking at your breasts through your dress and biting his lip every time you dared to look into his eyes. neither you nor he spoke to each other.

after that, they organized a small wedding in the garden of könig's family and formalized the union between the two of you. you were now his wife and lived with him in a small house built by könig on his family land. however, the most important thing was missing, an heir.

you both knew that your families would not be calm until they saw you carrying his baby in your womb. that's why you and könig had to get closer to each other, both emotionally and physically. every time he came back from a long day of work, you would wait for him with a jug of fresh orange juice or even a beer. then you would prepare the shower for him, where könig would end up dragging you with him and you would shower together. he caressed your skin with excitement and you did the same but with a certain shyness. however, it never went any further, until now.

one afternoon you were harvesting vegetables from the garden until the presence of könig behind you caught your attention.

"it's time... for us to have a son."

könig was wearing his work shirt with a few buttons open and his blue jeans. he looked agitated, as if he needed you at that moment.

"könig... i, i don't know. i've never done it and i'm a little scared..."

you couldn't finish because könig knelt in front of you and grabbed your hips with his hands.

"please, please, let me fuck you. i can't wait any longer, my love, i need you.."

he begged with some pain in his voice, resting his head on your stomach and almost sobbing. his cock was throbbing inside his jeans and dripping with precum. your heart sank at seeing him so needy, so you accepted.

without wasting time, könig fucked you right there in his garden and on the ground, in a primitive way. your pussy took a while to get used to its size but soon the pain turned into pleasure. könig was on top of you, with your legs over his shoulders and his balls hitting your delicate skin.

"i knew this pussy was worth the wait... fuck, you're so tight."

könig kissed your legs, leaving a trace of his saliva and even lightly biting your skin, lost in pleasure. his grunts accompanied your moans and pleas for him to finish inside you as soon as possible, you were afraid that you would be discovered.

"these juicy tits, they're going to look even better when they're big and dripping with milk... are you going to carry my babies, huh? are you going to be a good mom?"

you nodded your head because your mouth couldn't let out anything but moans. könig increased his thrusts, fucking deep inside you until he filled you with his thick semen.

he gently lay down on top of you, careful not to crush you until his orgasm passed. he carefully pulled out of you, caressing your legs and putting the cum that came out back in with his fingers.

"i have to make sure it catch, mommy."

[savingthrcw]

Had it not been the Ghoul, Lucy would have used the word 'cuddling' to describe what he was doing to her, and it left her feeling dazzled. It was an entirely different experience from the much more simple high that came from aggressively trying to devour each other with kisses and frantic touches, and she thought she'd have felt weak in the knees, had she still be standing.

She wanted more, it was new, and a little scary, and she was pretty sure it wasn't something she should be trying to have, but she felt almost desperate for it. She couldn't understand where that had come from, she had been so good at not letting herself expect a hug or a pet on the back ever since she had walked into the surface, she should have been fine without by now.

Also the blushing was new and unexplainable, yet it happened again when he gave her a peck to the lips and nothing more, her pale cheeks turning back to rosy. Her apology earned more gentle touching and she set the used stimack aside: Cooper had her full attention. And when he let her go after speaking those words, hitting right in the heart, she instinctively leaned forward to grab him for his coat with both hands and keep him from getting up, mouth opening and closing as she realized she didn't know what to say - she didn't know why she was grabbing him. What was going on with her? Opening her hands and smoothing the lapels of his coat with a mouthed: "sorry", Lucy didn't know how to thank him, much less how to explain that sudden need to have him and only him close to her.

"I don't... feel... much like a person..." something she had never admitted to him, too personal, too serious. She was a woman raised to be a good wife to Vault Tec's employees first, then nothing, then the designed hero people looked at for solutions after she had gained a reputation for fixing problems. And they looked at him like he wasn't a person, ironically, while she saw The Ghoul as nothing but a man, and it was her who was just a symbol by now. "I'm not-I think I didn't realize you saw me as one. That's why I didn't think twice today before going. But you..." she cleared her throat and looked down at her lap, where she had decided to rest her hands, because she knew she wouldn't be able to speak if she so much as glanced at him. No way, not being so vulnerable. "You have always been... important to me, even if I didn't know you cared, and I won't... do anything that hurts you. I'd let you waste the stimpacks on me for you." She would kill and maim and destroy for him, too, but it was harder to be careful for him. "You just have to tell me when something really matters to you, so I know you aren't arguing for fun, and I'll do it. Like today. Okay?"

If he'd have known that all it took for her to become compliant in his hands was his mouth devouring hers, he might have tried that much, much earlier. He could feel her heart racing with the hand pressed gently to her neck, her desire to keep that going evident in that little sigh. It seemed he wasn't the only one wrapped around the other's finger.

He brushed his thumb over her cheek, something he already noticed she liked, and smirked down at her from where he stood. "Good girl," her said softly, glad to see she had finally come around to his line of thinking. Her little yelp didn't alarm him so much knowing she was obviously in pain, but he did shift his hand down to curl around one of her arms. His mouth opened to tell her off for moving too fast before she tells him to shut up. That only made his smug little smirk return. "Well then, best get that needle in quick so it don't hurt no more."

He watched her plunge the syringe into her skin, the drug sunk into her in a way that, for whatever reason, made him hunger for more. Maybe it was that she had decided to actually do what he'd asked instead of grin and bear it. "It might've been a bit of an overcalculation, but still faster than the ol' wait and see." He drew his hand up again, curling a finger up under her chin so he could press a more chaste kiss to her mouth. A reward for actually going through with taking the stim. And a little bit for him, just because he wanted to.

He could see something warring behind those deep brown eyes, something he hoped he wasn't gonna hate. When she did speak, her little apology tugging at his heartstrings, he dropped down to his knees in front of her. Cooper took her head in both hands, cradling her face gently in his rough palms. The contrast wasn't startling, so much as it was a little upsetting She was delicate, soft, and could easily be taken out in so many ways that if he faced the same, would only come out with new scars and more frustration. He's blindsided by how much she's come to mean to him in such a short amount of time.

"You're a stubborn little shit, Lucy MacLean, I'll give you that. If you decide you're gonna play hero, ain't much I can do to stop you," he drew his lips to hers for another brief moment. "But if I gotta choose between you dying, 'wastin' a stimpack on you, or doing shit myself, I'm gonna pick whichever one don't see you back here in this damn bed. I gotta see the Brotherhood too close and personal this whole damn time, please don't make me do that again." His last sentence, a playful jab despite his genuine dislike for them, and another kiss before finally letting her face go. "I got two more stims in my back, Luce, and only one of you. I'd waste 'em both if I had to."

[darkmatilda]

𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬��𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend decides he’s going to start calling you a cute pet name, but the problem is, none of them seem to suit you perfectly

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: glasses reid x baumember!female reader, so sweet you'll puke, case in the background, unsub is abducting elderly people, text messages, reader is kinda clingy, use of y/n because i had to

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling <33 sorry if it ended up a bit too long again, but im starting to suspect that im physically incapable of writing a drabble lmao

"I'm tired. When will this week be over?"

"It's 9:13 on Monday."

With a groan, you leaned back against the seat in the corner of the jet, feeling the caffeine craving slowly take control of your body. 

"Just the thought of going to sleep sends intense shivers through me, caused by a heart-wrenching longing, and heavy tears slowly start gathering in my eyes," you complained, resting your head to the side.

Slightly turned, so you could look at Spencer sitting right next to you. His eyes, behind his glasses, also seemed a little tired, though he didn't manifest it as loudly. When you sat down next to him, he partially closed the book he was reading and rested it against the edge of the table in front of him.

"When you're sleep-deprived, you tend to get a bit dramatic," he pointed out in an analyzing tone, though you could catch a slight twitch at the corners of his lips.

"It's not drama, silly. It's the personification of pure exhaustion speaking through my lips."

"I love it when you try to argue with me and end up agreeing with me."

"You just love being right, don't you, smarty?" you huffed. "You love me too, but that's just a side note."

"Oh, now you're teasing. That's good. Means the sleepiness is wearing off," he diagnosed.

Sometimes you were genuinely amazed by how well he knew you, despite being together for such a short time—though maybe you shouldn’t have been. He was a profiler, just like you. Both of you were exceptionally good at reading each other, picking up on moods and small, everyday habits. You used to worry a little that this might make your relationship boring, stripped of surprises. But you quickly realized there’s nothing more captivating than another mind that matches your own and deeply understands its struggles. And sometimes, that feeling itself was a pleasant surprise.

"Next weekend, we're not going anywhere, okay?" you asked in a dreamy tone. The day before, you’d gotten back way too late, which was mostly to blame for your sleepiness. "Not even out of bed."

A look crossed Reid's face, somewhere between eagerness and a grimace.

"I’d love to," he assured with a genuine sigh, but then quickly added, "But I’m afraid I’ve already got something planned."

You tried to keep up the facade of your role, not showing too much excitement. You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I'm starting to suspect you have plans for every weekend for the rest of our lives."

"Actually, just for the next fourteen weeks," he admitted with a slight shrug, as if it wasn’t anything to be impressed by.

You weren’t sure if he was joking, and you didn’t get the chance to find out.

"Hey, lovebirds," Morgan called from the other end of the jet, where the whole team was gathered around a small table, ready to start discussing the case. "We're waiting for you."

For a while, you kept it a secret from them that you were starting to expect, but eventually, you had to come clean. Especially when Penelope, who knew everything, started taking every chance to send you suggestive glances or drop not-so-subtle comments. The rest of the team’s reaction wasn’t particularly emotional. They didn’t start screaming in surprise or jumping up and down in disbelief. They were profilers—they had figured it out. But they had enough decency to wait until you told them yourselves. No hard feelings, sweet Penelope.

You took the empty seat next to Gideon, right across from your boss and JJ. Reid settled into a chair on the side, where Morgan immediately poked him with his elbow.

"So, how’s it going in love land today?" Morgan asked, smirking. "Are puppies falling from the sky, and is it going to rain hearts this afternoon?"

You’d gotten so used to these kinds of jabs that, in perfect sync, you both rolled your eyes and opened your mouths to defend yourselves. It wasn’t like you two were constantly all lovey-dovey, exchanging kisses and holding hands at every chance! Morgan just loved to tease you, knowing how much it irked both of you when someone accused you of being unprofessional.

“Take it easy, it’s just the honeymoon phase," Gideon warned, not even looking at you as he adjusted his small square glasses, focusing instead on the folder in front of him. "You grow out of it."

On the laptop screen, Garcia’s face appeared, complete with an orange rose headband in her blonde hair.

"Well, hello there, babygirl," Derek greeted her, a small smile spreading across his lips.

"Hello, you charming, sweet, handsome thing…

Hotch exchanged a knowing look with Gideon.

“As you can see, not always," he muttered under his breath so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. JJ, sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, briefly lowered her amused gaze, trying to hold back a smile. "Shall we get started?"

The atmosphere shifted instantly, as if with the snap of fingers, when you began discussing the case. This time, it was a series of murders targeting men around the age of seventy-four.

"Are we sure this is the work of a serial killer?" Derek asked, his earlier light tone replaced with focus and seriousness. "I mean, looking at it, these guys don’t have much in common aside from their age."

“They’re all from the same area,” you noted, flipping through the victims' files. “But yeah, they don’t have much else in common. Different jobs, some married, some not…you think age is the reason the unsub picked them?”

“Looks that way,” Hotch said.

“About two weeks ago, his granddaughter reported him missing,” JJ informed you, pointing to a photo of an older man. “Ben Murphy, seventy-six years old. He’s from the same area, and all signs point to him being the unsub’s next victim. Each of the victims was held for an estimated three weeks, so there’s a good… a good chance he’s still alive.”

A brief silence settled over the room, heavy with the pressure of time.

“But why keep them alive for that long?” Spencer muttered, his brow furrowed in thought. “None of the bodies show signs of physical torture. They were killed with a lethal dose of insulin. If he chose that method, it doesn’t seem like he wanted to hurt them directly. The motive…the motive is unclear.”

The rest of the discussion revolved around trying to find connections and similarities to other crimes you were all familiar with, but you didn’t come up with anything groundbreaking that would significantly push the investigation forward. However, this didn’t stress you. You were just heading to the place where everything had taken place; you hadn't yet spoken to the victims' families, which often turned out to be crucial.

Just before the jet landed, you found yourself next to Reid, resting your elbow on his shoulder like it was some kind of convenient armrest while you pondered which card to discard from the ones laid out by JJ. This position made it much easier for him to sneak peeks at your cards, which he took full advantage of whenever he thought you weren’t looking (you were looking), so you had to hold them in a very awkward way to prevent him from seeing.

“C’mon,” JJ urged, as the time you were taking to think started to drag on.

You bit your lip.

“Easy for you to say. You’re winning,” you huffed, to which she flashed you a confident smile. “Great minds need time to come up with a solution. Right, Spence?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes…”

"Ugh, I wanted you to defend me, you silly..."

“Guys, do you know what I’ve been thinking?” Morgan appeared above you, pulling his headphones off his head.

“Scientists haven’t figured out a way to peek into other people’s thoughts yet,” Reid answered him, staring at the card you had just discarded and raising an eyebrow. Seriously? You shrugged. You knew it was a pitifully bad move. “So no, we don’t, Morgan.”

“I went over the case files again…” Derek continued, completely ignoring the ironic comment from his friend. “Mr. Murphy went missing right after a date with his wife…”

“...And may I ask why you’re sharing this incredibly sad fact with us?” you interjected.

“They went to the botanical garden,” Derek continued.�� Everyone stopped, staring at him with completely baffled expressions. “Then they hit up the American Revolution Museum. And I couldn’t help but think of you two. Sounds like the perfect date for you, right?”

You were the first to react, rolling your eyes dramatically. You placed your cards face down in front of you, then rested both hands on Reid's shoulder, leaning your chin on them. You let out a long sigh.

"Can we get just one day without fighting off the nerd allegations?"

"Hey, I'm not mocking you," Morgan said, raising both hands in the air. "Just pointing it out. So, what did you two get up to over the weekend?"

Reid turned his face slightly toward you, exchanging a look. Given how you were positioned, the frame of his glasses lightly brushed your forehead. Well, if you answered your teammate's question honestly, you’d be proving him absolutely right. Before you could manage to turn the question back on him, you were preempted.

"We went up to the hill to try and watch the meteor shower," Reid answered, sticking to the truth. Morgan tilted his head, staring at both of you with interest. "But the sky ended up being too cloudy, so we ended up finding a night exhibit at the museum about space..."

You could see the victorious expression slowly spreading across Derek's face.

"You’re sinking us, silly," you muttered into your boyfriend's arm.

"She's right, silly," Morgan echoed the nickname with exaggerated emphasis. "Anyway, I won’t bother you any longer. Enjoy your game. Oh, and by the way, JJ peeked at your cards when you weren’t looking…"

 "JJ!"

 "That’s a lie—"

"Did he really come over here just to compare us to a pair of retirees?" Reid wondered, watching Derek walk away.

"And to expose a cheater," you added, shooting a look at your friend across the table. You’d lifted your chin from Reid’s shoulder, but your hand still rested there, your fingertips lightly brushing against him—not that you even noticed. Did that even count as touching?

You pointed at JJ with determination. "We’re starting over."

"We’re about to land," she noted, placing her cards on the table and revealing her hand. "So I’ll let it go. But you’re getting your rematch, trust me."

 "Oh, I can’t wait."

She walked off, leaving the two of you alone in the corner of the jet. You noticed Reid had been watching you for a while, his expression unreadable. When you finally caught on and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he just shrugged and gathered the cards from the table. His fingers shuffled them with effortless precision, the motion smooth and almost hypnotic.

You shook your head, tearing your gaze away from the cards and focusing on his face again.

“What thoughts are you hiding in that brilliant mind of yours, smarty?”

“Those exactly,” he replied almost immediately. He fell silent for a moment as he tucked the cards back into the box. You watched him closely, curiosity piqued, waiting to hear what he’d say next because you didn’t fully understand his response.

“You always call me something,” he added after a pause. “You know…”

“Pet name,” you supplied the term he was missing.

He nodded, and you stayed quiet for a brief moment, wondering if you really used them that often. You’d never given it much thought—they just slipped out naturally when you were teasing him. He’d never reacted to them before, and it had never even crossed your mind that it might cause him any discomfort.

Your expression grew a bit more serious as you shifted in your seat to face him directly.

“Does…does it bother you? Because, you know, if it does…”

“No!” he denied quickly, a faint hint of embarrassment flashing across his face, as if wondering whether he’d been too eager. He shifted into a calmer expression, letting out a small sigh. “No, that’s really not it. Actually…I like them. I like when you use them.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as he admitted it. But the question still lingered in your mind—if that wasn’t it, then what was?

"I just realized…" he continued slowly, with a hint of hesitation. You noticed that both of you had lowered your voices compared to the lively chatter during the card game. It was as if, unintentionally, you'd created a small bubble, separating this moment from the rest of the team.

You liked his whisper. Sometimes, it felt stronger than his regular voice, mostly because whenever he lowered it, it was usually tied to some genuine emotion.

"That I never use them myself. I mean, I don’t call you anything other than your name."

"I don’t…I don’t expect that from you."

"I know. I know, it’s not like I thought you were expecting it. I just started wondering if maybe you'd like me to... to start doing it too. I admit, it’s not something I’m used to—"

"If you’re comfortable with it," you interrupted him without meaning to, feeling the need to emphasize it. Until now, it hadn’t mattered how he addressed you; it didn’t bother you when it was just your name. After all, hey, it’s not really the most important thing in a relationship. But when he suggested it, you felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "I’m serious, Spence. Don’t force yourself if it feels unnatural," you added, slowing down a bit, feeling the slight tremor in the corner of your lips. You noticed how his brow furrowed slightly when he caught that movement. Usually, it meant there was an idea forming in your head, and this time, it was no different. "But if you really want to…you should know I have some requirements in this area."

"Requirements?" he repeated, sounding confused, as if he thought he misheard. "Sorry, but what kind of requirements could you possibly have when it comes to pet names?"

“Oh, you have no idea how many,” you scoffed, leaning slightly toward him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. Reid blinked, clearly both curious and a bit apprehensive. “I know you, your mind... so I guess you shouldn’t be surprised that I’m expecting you to be creative. I mean no babe. No honey. 

Spencer stared at you for a moment, a look of disbelief crossing his face, before he let out a soft laugh.

"Alright, I’ve got it. No babe, no honey. Anything else to add to your list of demands?"

"Hmm, let me think," you murmured, to which he rolled his eyes. You didn't actually have anything else in mind; you just wanted to keep him in that state of uncertainty. But then, an additional thought occurred to you. "Oh, I know. It has to really fit with me. And with you. I want using it to come as naturally to you as possible. And I don't want you complaining to Penelope later, saying I forced you into it."

"Seriously, do you think I'd complain about you to Penelope behind your back?" he asked, pretending to be offended. He shook his head as if disappointed. "It's obvious I go straight to Morgan with stuff like this..."

You lightly tapped his arm.

"Is everything clear?" you made sure to ask, keeping your hand on his shoulder.

He glanced at your hand briefly before nodding.

"As clear as the sun. Has to be original and fit," he recited the two demands in their briefest form. He left his mouth slightly open, as if he wanted to add something, as if he was about to come up with the perfect nickname, but clearly, he hadn’t thought of one yet. He let out a short sigh of surrender. "This...this might take a while."

"Take your time, babe."

"Hey, you said we're not using that..."

"I only said you’re not using that”

"So what’s the point of giving me all these demands when..."

You both fell silent only when the jet neared its landing.

*

Working on the case had put a bit of distance between you. Well, it wasn’t unusual—there were often plenty of witnesses to interview, multiple locations to visit or search, and the team simply had to split up. Whenever Hotch assigned you somewhere, he always paired you up in the most complementary way possible, ensuring that your skills and experience balanced each other out. As the youngest members, relying more on brains than brawn, you and Reid rarely ended up partnered together.

And this time was no different.

You sat in the front seat of the car beside Gideon, who was driving. The two of you were headed to one of the victims' homes in silence, and you used the moment to glance at your phone—only to spot a message from none other than Reid.

spence: I’ve been thinking about what we talked about on the jet, and I think I have a few suggestions that meet all of your conditions.

spence: Sorry for texting, but I’m not sure if we’ll get a chance to see each other today, and I wanted to tell you that.

y/n: tell me

y/n: i mean u should be thinking about the case rn not about me

y/n: but i’m just gonna assume ur brain is multitasking enough to do both

spence: Because it is.

y/n: wow so humble

y/n: so???

y/n: what’s with the pet names

y/n: surprise me, genius

spence: Sorry, I don’t have time to write proper explanations for all of them or explain why I think they suit you.

spence: But a few of them are love, dear, darling.

y/n: sweet, but kinda basic

y/n: anyway up to you

y/n: u’ll be the one saying them

spence: Yeah, but you’ll be the one called them, and it has to be something you like. What do you think?

spence: Maybe something less typical like pumpkin

y/n: pumpkin HAHAHA

spence: ?

y/n: sry, i just can’t picture u saying that out loud

y/n: u browsing some top 100 pet names for ur gf site rn?

spence: No

y/n: i’m telling garcia to check ur browsing history, silly

y/n: don’t even delete it she’ll find it anyway

spence: I admit, pumpkin is awful

spence: I really like daisy, but i know you're allergic to pollen

y/n: how do u know i’m allergic to pollen?

spence: 👍🏼

It was truly an exhausting yet enlightening response. Anyway, you didn’t dwell on it too much. Sometimes he just knew. Together with Gideon, you had already arrived at the right address, so you shoved your phone back into your pocket and got ready to get back to work.

*

The words we are ready to deliver the profile were a milestone in every case you worked on.

They marked a gathering of the entire team, where you would collectively organize the information you had gathered during the investigation. Together, you had managed to uncover the unsub’s identity, but there was still the task of determining their motive and locating where they might be holding their still, as you hoped, victim. 

"The unsub spent most of his life caring for his severely ill, mentally abusive grandfather, of whom he was the only relative, which is why he now targets victims of a similar age," Derek began, crossing his arms over his chest. "He holds them for twenty-three days, mirroring the twenty-three years he dedicated to caring for him."

"He sees it as lost time, wasted. He never finished school, he was socially withdrawn. By repeating the same pattern with his victims, he believes he's getting something back," explained Reid, standing beside you, tapping one hand thoughtfully.

"This is all we have,” you muttered under your breath. ‘But we're missing the most important thing. Where is he? Where is he holding this man?”

“Garcia is working on that,” Hotch reassured you, pressing his finger to the earpiece.

“Give... give me some time,” Penelope asked in a distant tone, drowned out by the sound of keys being pressed rapidly. “ I think I have something... I need to check...ugh, fifteen minutes!”

After those words, she fell silent, leaving you all in anticipation. With a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest, hoping she would find something. Reid stood by your side, slightly separated from the rest. Yet when he spoke, he lowered his voice to a murmur.

You stepped closer to hear him better.

"Vivi," he said softly.

You frowned at him, and his gaze hesitantly met yours—but once it did, it refused to let go.

"From the Latin vivus," he explained. "Full of life, vibrant."

You remained silent for a moment, savoring the echo his words left behind and the look on his face—just a hint of uncertainty creeping in as he waited for your reaction. If it weren’t for the fact that your team members were bustling around and the circumstances weren’t exactly romantic, you might have slipped under his arm. Instead, you settled for a small, sweet smile.

"That’s really pretty, Spence," you admitted, catching the faint shimmer in his dark eyes. "You think it suits me? Do you like it?"

He nodded slowly. You couldn't shake the feeling that something didn’t quite fit, that it didn’t sound natural coming from him. Maybe it was just your imagination? Or perhaps he was distracted, lost in more important thoughts while you were bothering him with pet names? You didn’t really have time to figure that out. At that moment, Garcia’s raised voice cut through the line, announcing that she might know where the unsub is holding his victim.

In the next moment, you were already on your way to the given address, listening to instructions on how to get inside without causing harm to the elderly man being held captive. When you and Reid reached him, he was loosely tied to a chair with rope, his head hanging limp against his chest. You crouched beside him, checking his pulse. It seemed like a simple loss of consciousness, likely caused by the stress and exhaustion of being held captive for over two weeks.

"Untie him," you said automatically to Reid, even though he had already started doing it before you spoke. "Can you hear me, sir? Damn it, I think we’ll need an ambulance..."

"Since when do angels curse?" A hoarse, weak whisper escaped the man's throat.

You exchanged confused glances with Spencer, momentarily frozen in place. The man's temples twitched before he gently lifted his head. His gaze landed on your face, and very slowly, he began to regain full consciousness.

"I died. And you're an angel, right?" he asked.

You sighed with a certain sense of relief. He was a bit delirious, but it seemed nothing serious was wrong with him.

"Don't worry, you’re not dead, sir. Actually, you’re perfectly fine and will be home soon..."

"Whatever you say, angel."

You saw Reid, who was untying the man, try to hide a amused expression on his face. Even after two weeks spent in captivity, Mr. Murphy managed to muster a bit of stubbornness. He told the arriving paramedics that he would only get into the ambulance if the angel who freed him went with him. And since you felt really sorry for the elderly man who had been kidnapped and whose mind was a bit frail, you did it.

You didn’t get back on the jet until late at night. Throwing yourself into the seat next to Spencer, you struggled to suppress another yawn. You didn’t even realize when your temple lightly rested against his arm, but through your partially closed eyelids, you noticed him closing the book he had been reading and placing it in his lap.

"Long day, huh, angel?" he asked. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, brushing your ears as you leaned against him.

"So, you spent the whole day trying to come up with the perfect pet name and ended up just going with the one some confused old guy called me?"you asked, opening your eyes and turning your head to look at him. Or rather, from the position you were in, at his jaw. "Watch out, Spencer Reid. I might accuse you of being lazy."

"I'm not lazy," he denied. "I'm just looking for inspiration in unusual places. Besides, it fits, don't you think? Angel."

"Mhm. Lazy."

With those words, you closed your eyes again, snuggling against him more comfortably. Spencer shifted slightly in his seat, using his free hand to tuck the hair falling onto your face behind your ear.

"Sweet dreams, angel."

[calypso-apologist]

Could you do Hermes and/or Apollo head-cannons if there s/o is like a princess but her father (the king) was both verbally and physically abusing her thx :)

tumblr user arsonist123 really making me reconsider adding the heart after every post's title but i'm commited to the aesthetic

Hermes and Apollo with an abused princess darling ♡

Hermes

Hermes is the type of guy to straight up kidnap you. Consensually, of course. If you'd let him, he would absolutely just pick you up and fly off, giggling loudly.

But of course, you're too kind for this world despite all the suffering and hardships you've endured and you don't want to leave the people in your kingdom with the tyrant king.

It's adorable, of course, but come on, the kidnapping thing would've been so much fun!

Still, Hermes adores your cute self too much to just go against your wishes like that. And so he starts to think of a plan to get you to himself. He might be getting some tips from Athena, but he decides those are too boring. And then he has the brilliant idea to ask Zeus for help.

Because asking Zeus about romance obviously always works well.

Still, no matter who helped, Hermes did come up with a plan! Sort of.

His plan is to quite literally scare your father shitless. He uses his role as the Messenger God and delivers your father a very scary (and very fake) prophecy from Apollo himself. Yes, he got his help to write it. To make it more believable.

And then cashed in a few favors, getting Zeus and Poseidon to cause some nasty storms around your island. Maybe some shitty crops if Demeter agrees to help. And maybe a tiny plague with Apollo's help.

And the "prophecy" clearly states your father has to give up his crown to you and leave the palace to live as a beggar among his people.

And it also includes you making a visit to a certain god's temple to get his blessings and so the curse placed on your land is undone. A temple that belongs to someone who's not afraid to... send a message.

Of course you go to his temple, knowing damn well who the "prophecy" was about. And you confront him about it, flicking his nose.

"You've made the whole prophecy thing up, didn't you, Hermes?"

You only get laughter in response.

Apollo

When he learned that his precious little ray of sunshine is getting hurt, he comes up with a plan.

Now, of course, he'd be delighted to simply shoot your father, but that would put you at risk of being given away to one of your suitors.

The suitors you, of course, keep refusing, absolutely enamored with the God who composes songs and speaks poetry just for your ears each night.

And so, he plans to free you in a way that you'll probably consider very sweet and romantic.

He disguises himself as an artist, a musician, who wishes to work in your father's palace and asks for your hand in marriage.

Of course, while your father laughs at him marrying you, he does enjoy music, so he lets the mysterious man stay and play for him.

He is immediately the only one you care about, sneaking away whenever you can. You're happy! You're just so happy that he's there, always giving you that soft, adoring look as he subtly serenades you, his words so masterful that only you understood, everyone else assuming his songs were about the beauty of nature.

Eventually, even if it takes weeks or maybe even months, he softens your father's heart and asks again to have you as his bride.

It's worth noting that with just how your father has grown to adore the new musician, he's also stopped harming you in any way, easily soothed into sleeping if he was nearby, charmed by Apollo's words.

And then, once the king finally agrees, Apollo reveals himself as the god of music and poetry, taking you away from your father's kingdom...

And then he still shoots him, of course.

[peachpride]

*miss piggy noises*