#what i would do to do a survey for what exactly made it so popular

[luna-spacedoodles]

oh wow thanks for 300 notes on the piss ur pants comic guys. why

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

the kissing booth

pair: Fred Weasley x reader requested by anonymous

I was wondering if you could do a Fred Weasley x reader fic where it kinda follows the plot of the Kissing Booth, so reader and Ginny would be best friends and have rules just like in the movies, and one of them is that Ginny's siblings are off limits for dating, but reader has a secret crush on Fred

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Hogwarts was buzzing with excitement. The Great Hall was adorned with streamers and banners for the annual charity fair. Tables were set up with all sorts of attractions: bake sales, dueling demonstrations, and, at the center of it all, the most popular stall every year—the kissing booth.

You stood at the edge of the hall, surveying the scene. Beside you, Ginny Weasley was practically vibrating with excitement. Her red hair caught the light from the floating candles, making it shine like fire.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this!" Ginny said, nudging you with her elbow. "The kissing booth! Can you believe it?"

You laughed, shrugging. "Yeah, well, it’s for a good cause, right? And it’ll be fun. Besides, who wouldn't want to get a kiss from a beautiful girl?"

Ginny grinned. "Exactly! And it'll give us a chance to make sure no Slytherin girls try to get in Fred and George’s line again this year. You know how they get." She made a face, then her expression turned serious. "Remember our rules, though."

"Right, right. The best friend rules," you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "Don't worry, I remember. Rule number four: no dating any of your brothers."

Ginny nodded firmly. "Exactly. You're my best friend, Y/N. It would just be...weird, you know?"

"Totally," you lied smoothly, hoping Ginny didn't notice the slight tremor in your voice. Because, as much as you adored Ginny and her brothers, there was one particular Weasley who had caught your attention. Fred. He was charming, funny, and he had the best smile. He made you laugh like no one else could. And, for as long as you could remember, you had harbored a secret crush on him.

You had never broken the rules before, but lately, it had been getting harder to ignore the flutter in your stomach whenever Fred was around. You knew nothing could ever come of it, though. The best friend rules were ironclad. No exceptions.

"Y/N?" Ginny waved a hand in front of your face. "You with me?"

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. "Sorry, just zoned out for a second."

Ginny gave you a look, but before she could ask more, Lee Jordan announced from the makeshift stage, "Alright, everyone! Time to start the kissing booth! Remember, it's all for charity, so dig deep into those pockets!"

You and Ginny made your way to the booth. Students were already lining up, and you saw Fred and George joking around with a few seventh-year girls. You felt a twinge of jealousy but quickly shook it off. “Ready?” Ginny asked, pulling out a blindfold.

“What’s that for?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Adds to the mystery,” Ginny explained with a grin. “You won’t know who you’re kissing. Makes it more fun, right?”

You hesitated but then shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Ginny tied the blindfold over your eyes. You could hear the murmur of the crowd, feel the cool breeze from the open windows, and the excitement bubbling around the hall. You stood there, heart racing as you waited for your first customer.

“Alright, first up!” Ginny called. You heard coins clinking into the collection box, and then the sound of someone stepping closer.

You held your breath. A moment later, you felt warm hands gently cupping your face. The kiss was soft and lingering, and you could feel your knees weakening. Whoever it was, they knew how to kiss. You leaned in, savoring the moment, the thrill of not knowing. When the kiss ended, you were left feeling breathless.

The next few hours passed in a blur of kisses and laughter. You lost count of how many people you kissed, only that none of them felt quite like that first kiss. Finally, as the event wound down, you pulled off your blindfold, rubbing your eyes.Ginny came over, grinning. “How was it? Having fun?”

You smiled. “Yeah, it was… interesting.”

Ginny laughed, but before she could say anything else, Fred walked over. His eyes were twinkling, and he had that trademark smirk on his face.

“Well, Y/N,” he said casually, leaning against the booth. ��Seems like you were quite the hit.”

“Fred,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “How’s it going?”

“Fantastic,” he said. “Best charity event yet, wouldn’t you say?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Fred looked like he was about to say something else when George called him from across the hall.

“Catch you later,” Fred said, giving you a wink before walking off.

Ginny watched him go, then turned back to you, a thoughtful look on her face. “You know, I think Fred was your first kisser.”

You nearly choked. “W-what? No, that’s… no.”

Ginny’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “I’d recognize that look anywhere. He’s got it bad for you, Y/N.”

You flushed. “Ginny, we have rules, remember?”

Ginny shrugged. “Maybe it’s time we changed the rules.” She grinned, then added, “Besides, you looked pretty happy when you kissed him. Don't think I didn’t notice.”

You bit your lip, unable to keep the smile off your face. Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe it was time to change the rules. After all, some rules were meant to be broken, especially when it came to love.

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

One thing I don't understand is why they took time to build up Aemond in part 1, with its complexity and ambition. And then ss2 turned him into a villain so quickly? And why did they choose Aegon to be the one who suffered cruel treatment from family members to gain viewers' sympathy, while they turned him into a rapist in ss1? The sudden change in the approach of the two characters in ss2 left me scratching my head.

Good day/night!

IMO the reasons for it are the same ones I mentioned in this post (I hope you don't mind if I quote it, here and below):

"... IMO we need to take into account two things: 1) HotD writers apparently have received a commission to create a show with a clear as day feminist agenda to regain the audience's favor lost after Daenerys business in S8 of GoT; 2) the most important - they are fucking incompetent, and so they could ruin the characters they "love" just as effortlessly as they do with those they "hate" (sometimes they even fail with the latter - because they are kind of supposed to ruin them but, once again, are incompetent)".

On the one hand, the goal there was to make the show as popular and as appealing to the audience (including general audience, of course) as possible; on the other hand, it was supposed to be done in a certain way.

On no account was a TG character (i.e. the one from anti-feminist side), and a male one at that, supposed to become (or to end up, at least) as an absolute fan favourite. It is not a secret that after season 1 Aemond's popularity reached nearly cosmic levels (according to some surveys, he was the third among the best-liked characters, after Rhaenyra and Daemon - and not that far from them) after the little screen time he had. Imagine what could have been if Aemond got proper development and was presented as a complex, well written character with amount of screen time that he was due as one of the main characters of season 2. There would be a risk of him overshadowing Daemon or even the one true heroine - Rhaenyra. The HotD team couldn't have that - so they reduced Aemond's screen time to bare minimum. As for him becoming a villain, here I go back to the post mentioned above:

"... I really don't know whether Condal and the rest of HotD team are ruining Aemond on purpose - or are just trying to legit create a compelling arc for him by presenting him as a bullied kid with a fuckton of issues who one day just snapped and fully went into a psycho killer mode. Both options are possible - and actually both of them might be true because (and here goes yet another HotD problem) it really feels like the writers who work on the show have trouble communicating and coordinating their ideas. One pushes for one thing, another - for another, and as a result we have characters who act like they get a personality/brain transplant every episode (Daemon and Alicent in S1 are the prime examples of that)".

As for Aegon, the way writers go about his development is (or has turned out to be) quite messy as well. In season 1, he was made a canonical rapist (and the writers just had to know that such a character won't be received well by the audience) - yet Sara Hess tried to explain how it was because Aegon just never knew what consent was. In season 2 he is being presented as a dumb, reckless boy - but one deeply unhappy and in constant suffering. It's like the audience is supposed to roll their eyes at his poor decisions but also to pity him. And it seems to work exactly like that! Why did they do it? My guess is that HBO people want to improve their chances at the Emmys - and characters like Aegon are just the right material for it. Exploitation? Absolutely. But thanks to that, at least Tom was given a chance to actually demonstrate his talent. And at the same time, once again, a Green character can't be better that the Blacks in everything, right? So show!Aegon is being dumbed down and forced to make some questionable decisions (but still manages to have the most consistent character arc out of all the Greens - which says something about the writing level for this season).

P.S. A little off topic: the thing is that the sympathies towards Aegon from the audience might prove stronger than the writers predicted (actually, from what I've seen for the past week, the same goes for Aemond - he is not hated nearly as much as could have been expected, at least for now). And I think the actors are to thank for that: Tom has been absolutely smashing it this season (his Aegon really is a livewire) and Ewan manages to save every second of screen time he gets to remind the audience via his microexpressions and scene presence why so many people were enchanted by Aemond in the first place. Legends.

[praetorqueenreyna]

Man, I fucking love creating surveys just to ignore the results and criticism because they don’t match my personal opinions and biases! Don’t you? Oh wait, I don’t need to ask, I can see from the many dismissals of valid criticisms in your posts that you do too! Fuck yeah!

You're feeling SO good about this, aren't you. You really showed me, the lesbophobic hate witch haunting the ACOTAR fandom. So fine, I guess I WILL keep having the same conversation. Also btw, taking my survey multiple times to suggest "any wlw ship" and accusing me of homophobia is not the slay you think it is.

Not to absolutely BLOW your mind, but the ships listed in the survey are the most popular ships in the fandom. If I tried to include every single rarepair, each question would have 100 options, and the survey would be unusable. And, also not to freak you out too much, but the core demographic of this fandom is straight women, who prefer straight ships.

Here are the stats so far for the "favorite ship" question.

20% is Feysand, 18.5% is Nessian, 13.3% is Elucien, and the pink and light blue on the left are Neris and Elriel.

You see that lil highlighted section at the top? The pink one? That's Emorie. One person has voted for it as their favorite ship. It's slightly more common as a second and third favorite ship (about 10 people have voted for it in each category). And that's for THE most popular wlw ship. There have been maybe one or two suggestions for other wlw ships, each with only 1 vote. So maybe my "personal bias" that this fandom is heterosexual and only ships the straight ships has been somewhat validated. To add wlw ships to this list that nobody is going to pick would be virtue signaling, just as you feeling righteously angry at ME over this fandom ignoring wlw ships is useless virtue signalling.

I'm in the main ACOTAR tag almost every day. I see the content that is being made. This fandom does not make content for wlw ships. I'm not exactly sure how that's MY fault. I'm not adding ships to "be inclusive," I'm doing it to collect accurate data for this fandom.

Hmm, well, nobody can say I don't do my research. Let's check out AO3 for those super popular wlw ships!

Weird. Well why I don't I check out YOUR AO3, @ablogofsapphicpanic? Surely you have been churning out wlw fics left and right, since you've seen fit to throw such a stink about this.

Oop, what's this? Only the straight canon ships? Thus confirming everything that I've been saying? Weird.

Also btw, when you take the survey, it tells me what time each submission was entered, so I can tell that the ones bitching about wlw ships and claiming I hate women submitted 2 minutes apart are from you. Anyway, have fun in the "other" category with the tamlin stans!

[22degreehalo]

And so one unintended side-effect of my very... multifandomness (and also tiredness??) this year has been that I'm reading way more fanfic than I usually would be! And I have decided to embrace that haha <3 so I've joined up with the Summer Fic Reading Challenge over at @ficreadingchallenge !

Above you can see my card; as you can see, I've already started ticking things off! I'll list the reviews I've already made now, and then elaborate a bit more on what I plan to do beneath the cut! :)

Soulmates Keep Your Head Up, My Child by Addmon (2.9k, Zuko/Aang) I really love when Soulmate fics add a wrinkle to the canon plot, and this does that perfectly! It makes perfect sense that Zuko and Aang wouldn’t immediately know that they’re each other’s soulmates given that in this universe, the word is written in the speaker’s script, but it’s clear enough that Aang’s is from the Fire Nation and Zuko’s is… something very unique, haha. And it’s structured really well, a nice collection of scenes that are just long enough to get their point across.

New (To You) Fandom work it out with your fingers by Saintsideways (3k, Jim/Bart) This fic is just actually, unfairly good. Blazing Saddles has such a uniquely distinctive sense of style, but this fic captures it perfectly, from the breezy homoeroticism to the nonchalant fourth-wall breaks. A perfect epilogue for the movie!

Under the Influence Just One Taste by Random_Nexus (3.8, Jeeves/Wooster) This is just such a sweet fic. <3 It feels very in-character for them (it’d certainly take a lot to get Jeeves to admit how he feels!), and the pining is very delicious <3

De-Aging/Kidfic Never Been Kissed by Randodoggo (4.7k, Phoenix/Edgeworth) This is so adorable – perfect kidfic!! I love love live how adorably earnest and dorky and slightly annoying kid Edgeworth is, so desperate to be a Good Defence Attorney and uphold the law like his daddy~ And the specific shippiness is so perfect for their ages, haha – and I can only imagine how those two’ll feel looking back on these memories. :’D (But also… off owie the dramatic irony of how happy Miles and Gregory are hurts :’((( )

Only One Bed [podfic of] Touch Therapy by Nomad by OReily42 (58 minutes/10.4k, House/Wilson) I’m honestly shocked I never read this one back in the day when I had my House phase: I sure read enough House/Wilson fics, and this one’s sure popular enough! And for good reason – despite being tagged a ficlet collection, the vignette nature of it really works well to capture these everyday moments between them, making the slow progression of their relationship feel really natural! And the podfic reading was perfect: I sometimes feel self-conscious with these things haha but I honestly got so immersed I didn’t even think about it!

So... as you can see, I am not sticking to one fandom here at all. :'D I'm not even committing to using a different fandom/ship for each square like I usually would with things like this. I really do just want this to be about like... giving me just a little more structure for looking for fics.

This is probably a bit weird, haha, but I've never really been able to relate to those 'I don't want AO3 to have an algorithm, I want it to give me Exactly what I have searched for' posts. To be honest, the sheer amount of possibilities on AO3 has always been a bit overwhelming when it comes to actually looking for fic! (Unless I'm just trying out a new ship and want to survey the field.) Maybe it's because I grew up relying on rec lists and the like? But rec listing just isn't really done nearly as much in current fandom, and that's a whole other post topic haha...

BUT. Though I might know that I like, say, Secret Relationship fic? It usually wouldn't occur to me to search for it like that! But then if I just search by ship, there's so much... And what ship should I even search by?! I am a very indecisive person hahahaha... And I've gotten too much in a habit of like Collecting fics by going through tags and saving them and then never reading them because hhhhh what if there's Another fic I would enjoy more...???

SO. Now, I can pick a trope and think about what ships would fit it and look that right up!!! tl;dr: gameification works. :) And it already has worked on me!!

Also probably-obvious clarification: I'm only reccing for this challenge fics that I actually enjoyed enough to rec. I've also gotten into a habit lately of feeling Guilty when I drop a fic because who am I to judge?? And what about the poor author??? But. I do not have a moral obligation to consume art I'm not into!!!!! And isn't that the whole point of art? Connection? So what if a fic doesn't work for me! I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who will love it!!!! So this is another Reminder Catch: would I be happy to rec this for the challenge? And if not, ehh, maybe I should just cut my losses and try something else.

Onto the prompts!!!

Since it's just a casual challenge, the list of prompts was pretty small; I definitely think it could grow if it's repeated, which ofc I would like it to! :) I did try not to blacklist too many prompts for that reason, so there are a few on there that I wouldn't normally seek out.

In particular, having Time Travel and Time Loop (and right next to each other, if I cared to do bingos!!), and also Space AU and Future AU...... yeah, I think I'll have to interpret Future AU as more of like a post-canon AU sort of thing, hahaha. Would a Modern Day AU of a historical setting count as a Future AU? Though I sorta dislike those on principle... but sometimes they're unavoidable...... hrmhrmhrm.

ANYWAY I started with the prompts that immediately made me curious: gave me fandoms/ships that burst out at me, thinking they'd work well. (Apart from Only One Bed which I technically read before the challenge but shhhhh it's a great fic so I wanted it to still count!!) I've also been combing through the tags of some of the other squares, mainly for the difficult ones like Take Your Fandom To Work AU.

But some of them are going to be simple. I already have two half-read fics which slot neatly into Angst and Hurt/Comfort, though... obviously those are very broad, hahahaha. For BIPOC character I'll probably look up some more Nandor/Guillermo (tho there are plenty of other options), and Author's Oldest Fic would've been intimidating if I hadn't recently been looking up some LJ-era ships like House/Wilson and the 2009 Sherlock Holmes verse, some of which have been retroactively uploaded to AO3 and usually are in fact earliest on their author's lists.

Whump will be interesting since I've had an interest in the trope recently but have read very little of it yet. Meanwhile Rarepair could cover many of my ships... and those ships will also probably offer up a few No Comments fics, too. :') Canon Compliant is interesting since I mostly tend to read fics like that anyway? So I'll try to find something especially fitting for it, like a Missing Scene maybe, or just something that flows directly from the finale (Roy/Jamie/Keeley would be perfect). Gift Giving is surprisingly turning out to be a difficult one just because it's not really a commonly-used AO3 tag and I don't tend to go for pure fluff... But we'll see!!

ANYWAY I'm super excited to get going, and even just coming up with what ships might work well with each of these tags has already been really fun :'D

[purplesurveys]

1872

When was the last time you read a whole book, to the last page exactly? March. I read Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. I actually started reading Becky Lynch's memoir not long after that, but lol I haven't had the time to finish it...I breezed through the first 150 or so pages then dropped off – it's not bad at all, but I've just lost the time.

How many times have you had sex within the past two years? Guesstimate? None. It's not for me.

When was the last time you made up a word? Did people think it was weird? I don't make up words.

How many times in a month do you go to the movies? How much do you spend? Never. It's too expensive and it'll show up on some streaming platform eventually anyway, haha. Plus most movies I'm never all that hyped for. A movie ticket now is on average ₱450, then I get my usual Potato Corner snack...that's a total of more or less ₱700.

What is one of those movies that you could never get tired of watching? Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Two for the Road, Roman Holiday, White Chicks, Titanic. The entire Twilight Saga hahaha.

When was the last time you heard thunder? Where were you at anyway? Yesterday; I was just at home.

Have you ever begged the opposite sex for anything at all? I mean apart from begging my dad to buy me stuff when I was much younger, not really.

Are there many places to shop in the town you live in? What kinds? Yes. We have too many malls, so you can never run out of places to shop from. All kinds, really – shops for clothes, furniture and home essentials, books, knickknacks, collectibles like figurines, baking stuff...list goes on.

When was the last time you bought shoes? What do they look like? December when one of the brands I work for held this massive sale for all their partners. Shoes that'd go for five digits I got for like 2k, so I got one pair each for my mom and dad. For my mom I got this chunky-ish sneaker; for my dad I got a limited-edition version of an otherwise popular model.

Do you like surveys with really in-depth questions, like mine? Not really, because I don't really want to be made to think when making these.

When was the last time you were in trouble with your parents?  No clue. Does that even happen with me anymore?

Do you know anyone who claims to have the ability to see the future? No.

Are you a superstitious person? Have you ever been superstitious before? Nah. I just let life be lol.

Do you like any songs from country music? If so, which ones do you like? I dislike country music, which on a personal standpoint is funny because it meant that it took a while for me to drag myself to listen to Cowboy Carter. I didn't click it on Spotify til like last month, but I ended up really liking it. I think the way Bey made it a point to mix in genres I'm more familiar with, with the country helped a lot.

Can people read your facial expressions easily? If so, why is this? Yes. I like to be transparent. When I don't like how something is going, I want to make sure I'm not keeping it in.

When was the last time you went on vacation? Where did you go to? Uhhhh it was super quick, it was like 2 days long lol but we went to Bulacan last weekend. Great place and they had four poodles!!!

How many states have you been to in your lifetime? Guesstimate if not sure. Zero. 

When you go to the movies, do you actually watch the movies or not? I, uh, watch the movie?

What kind of instant messaging service do you use? Why do you use this? Messenger – it's where everyone is so it's super convenient.

When was the last time your area had a tornado warning, if ever? We never have tornadoes.

Have you ever had one of those major fights with your current bf/gf? No partner.

Does it ever bother you when people use abbreviations for certain words? No.

Would it creep you out if you walked in on your best friend having sex? I wouldn't be creeped out but I think I'd just find it awkward and laugh it off. Then I'd reassure them that everything's fine.

When was the last time you said ‘I love you?’ Who did you say it to? Angela – around an hour ago when I quickly dropped by to drop off the pre-board exam ~care package~ I made for her.

Do you have any of those freaky phobias that make no sense at all? Nah.

Do you ever look at random people and think they could be a serial killer? Not so much a serial killer, but I do treat strangers as if they could kidnap me or snatch from me anytime so I'm always cautious.

Does it scare you when the sky gets really cloudy and dark during the day? No. It gets me excited; I love the rain haha.

What was the last amusement park you went to? Did you have fun? Ooh I genuinely have no clue. I never go to those because I don't go on the rides anyway...hmm idk maybe one of the school fairs? 5-6 years ago is my best guesstimate.

[theramblingvoid]

"📚 Your OC has to improvise a 10 minute lecture about a topic of their choosing. What do they chose?" and "🪤 What is one thing that could be used to lure your OC into a trap?" for a beast(s) of your choosing !!

📚

Hallowrove: Now see, the expected answer here would be monsters, and they definitely could give a 10 minute lecture on Beastes, but their love of monsters is much more practical and experience-based than theoretical or biological so that's not what this lecture is about. Nope, this one is about workers' rights. Sit down listen up and hear this guy who started out job hopping between different metalworking/mechanical trades on the Surface and then came down here and met Mr Fires talk about unionization and workplace power dynamics. The doors are locked. The 10 minutes starts now.

Null: They wanted to plagiarize Hallowrove's speech but they have surveyed public interest and determined that it wouldn't get a very high approval rating. Instead they will be talking about literary analysis but only of the Ministry of Public Decency's most popular approved books and only using points they overheard in Veilgarden.

🪤

Hallowrove: *Deep, long-suffering sigh* In order of canonical events: 1. Something to pique their curiosity, 2. A friend in a situation too dangerous for them to handle, and 3. A hunt that they've started, that takes up more and more of their mind and energy, that by the time they realize what's happening they are too entranced by to break away. Although maybe that last one is also the trap in its own right. I wouldn't call Hallowrove easy to lure, exactly...but...yeah actually yes I would. Who am I kidding. This guy left a stable job to move to a cave full of space bats. They're getting trapped the second something makes a weird noise and they go to see what made it. (Keeping them trapped, however, that's the real issue. Good Luck.)

Null: Literally anything. This guy would walk under a box propped up on a stick for a rusty silver fork. And then try to take the box and stick too.

[rosewind2007]

Some fool (not really, ❤️they know exactly what I’m like, thank you for the opportunity to rant @gamebird ) asked me about my take on how Gurathin noticed Murderbot was “rogue” and—

I think the on-site briefing could be the initial thing that made Gurathin suspicious

See All Systems Red:

And it had been hammered into them from the pre-trip orientation, to the waivers they had to sign for the company, to the survey packages with all the hazard information, to their on-site briefing by their SecUnit that this was an unknown, potentially dangerous region on a mostly unsurveyed planet.

We know MB has been getting away with this for almost four years (I’m using 24/365 here not any inter-system variants like Preservation’s 28 hour cycle) so it’s supposed to be good at this! Perhaps Gurathin (my beloved) has heard a few briefings before? They’re always the same—but instead MB injects sarcasm and irony (but maybe only over the feed? Perhaps that’s key here?)

Actually for me I think G’s augments would usually allow him extra connectivity to the SecSystem which includes SecUnits—MB might be bluffing with GrayCris but hmmm…“One of them is an augmented human, a systems engineer. He can make it launch. Check the data you got from our HubSystem. It’s Surveyor Dr. Gurathin.” GrayCris absolutely buy this, and of course G is the one who figures out the critical hack (not MB, which you might expect):

“Gurathin had figured out how to use the hack from their HubSystem into our HubSystem to get access”

Back to my point:

So my take is that right from the start G thinks there’s something odd about SecUnit, but he is perhaps so heavily influenced by CR propaganda and popular culture that he just like MB cannot reconcile this behaviour with a SecUnit, certainly not a rogue one—a rogue would be killing all the humans—so he initially assumes there is something controlling it somewhere? Or that it’s a modified unit? Or he doesn’t know but it’s not a SecUnit because he knows what they’re like and it’s not like this

And my personal take which is that Gurathin really likes (really likes) MB’s feed presence—imagine expecting the standard briefing from a completely emotionless machine and you’re deep in the feed (which Gurathin is a lot of the time) and instead it’s this really subtly funny and ironic version of the briefing, pointing out (really subtly) all the stupid bits which you’ve laughed at (internally before) and it’s just—just like you

And from then on Gurathin is noticing everything/anything, absolutely zeroing in on anything the SecUnit says or does—he can justify this to himself, it’s anomalous, it could be threat—but actually because he wants to be in MB’s company

BUT anyway, back to canon:

Before the worm attack, what is MB doing?

It’s looking at the sky: this is NOT SecUnit behaviour

“The planet had a ring, which from our current position dominated the horizon when you looked out to sea. I was looking at the sky”

I think before the worm attack, remember they’ve been there for three weeks (twenty-two cycles), Gurathin has been just making every excuse to be in the same feed area as MB—because of the anomalies obviously

We know Gurathin is hardly one for the demonstrative displays of emotion*, so why is it in ASR that he’s the one MB notices has a smile? Do we get physical descriptions of the other PresAux team? No we don’t, we get how they’re emotionally connected to each other but nothing about their facial expressions, and then at the end we get:

“Gurathin was the only loner, but he seemed to like being with the others. He had a small, quiet smile, and they all seemed to like him.”

Until the tragic misunderstanding about the governor module I think MB likes Gurathin right back

(Tragic Misunderstand TM)

*in Exit Strategy

“Gurathin came down to the lobby to wait for the GrayCris representative and took a seat in plain view on a lower platform, so stiff he looked more like a SecUnit than I did.”

Also, MB adds there: Well, in his defense it was a nerve-racking situation. No one asked you to defend Gurathin, MB—you DO like him

Anyway, where were we? Back to All Systems Red before the worm attack:—I reckon G knows there’s something seriously anomalous about their SecUnit before the worm attack

Worm attack just throws it all into stark relief and from then on in he’s just trying to make sense of it, as I’ve said before he knows MB isn’t a normal SecUnit AND he tries to get MB to fess up and explain what’s going on!

Look at how when MB does something that IT acknowledges the Governor Module would be triggered by Gurathin is in there querying it:

MB - “They’re supposed to be able to, but equipment failures aren’t unknown.”

👆it says to itself The other good thing about my hacked governor module is that I could ignore the governor’s instructions to defend the stupid company. Gurathin immediately chips in with:

G - “What about your systems?”

MB - “As the only one here with experience in these situations, I’m your best resource.”

👆 It was one of those impulses that comes from my organic parts that the governor is supposed to squash

G - “What situations?”

“Gurathin was in the hub doing something on his personal system. I wondered what he was doing and had just started to carefully poke around through HubSystem to find out.”

Then they get back from DeltFall with tales of rogue SecUnits and horror and death!

And whilst their SecUnit which he already had suspicions of, is out of action (because it shot itself, remember) he finds that:

Yes, it is rogue.

It believes it killed 57 people it was charged with protecting

The fact that he didn’t just immediately permanently put it out of action only serves to support my other, even LESS POPULAR opinion, which is that Gurathin is utterly besotted with Murderbot.

I do think this aspect is much overlooked by a lot of people: until Gurathin looks into its logs he doesn’t know that it (and this is what MB believes and G has no reason to think it’s lying to itself because that’s getting really really complicated into what logs and memories represent in the Murderbot Diaries) killed 57 clients, apparently innocent people—he has lived with it for three weeks, appears to be aware it isn’t what it appears to be BUT is certainly not being negative to it, in fact is smiling more than anywhere else in the book series? Surely this revelation comes as a shock?

Also: do note that Guarthin doesn’t lead with this—you’d think the fact that “This Unit has killed people before, people it was charged with protecting. It killed fifty-seven members of a mining operation.”

Wouldn’t you expect this apparent FACT would be what he’d lead with? But no, he doesn’t.

I mean? Why doesn’t he?

Gurathin is one mixed up person at this point, he’s reeling, I think he wants to believe MB’s version of events, which hey! We later do find out isn’t actually true! It’s not until it visits Ganaka Pit itself that it actually knows what happened…

In canon of course we then move on to the whole it calls itself Murderbot thing, and I would note that a) this is TRUE, and b) it’s Mensah who asks

Anyway, in summary:

Art by the wonderful @cinqueform ❤️

[mars-is-a-liquid]

Ummm I wrote a thing

It's kinda an Arachne retelling/next generation/au of if Athena had been more sympathetic :)

Age five, Arachne  was drawing on anything that would take a crayon, stick figure drawings of the bedtime stories her mother told her, of gods and heroes. She was named after one of these mythological people, the weaver turned into a spider by the goddess Athena after disrespecting her and the other gods.

Age ten, she was the art kid at school, drawing all through lunch and recess and loving art class. The older kids said that she should recognise the gift Athena gave her but she laughed them off, ignoring the warnings that she would end up like her namesake.

Age twelve, she sat in her room drawing as she heard her parents arguing downstairs, she used art as a coping mechanism when they got a divorce and she was constantly moving house. Her favourite things to draw were still the myths she had heard all her life, everyone telling her that Athena is a vengeful goddess and she should respect her and the gift she had so obviously given her.

Age thirteen, she started to question the morals of the gods, why worship someone who is constantly harassing women, or his wife who punishes the victims instead of the perpetrator. Her mother said that not all the gods were like that, her patron was Aphrodite, a goddess that was one hundred percent famous for not interfering with mortal lives.

Age fourteen, she started drawing pieces defaming the gods. She didn’t show them to anyone but they were there, in the loose floorboard under her bed. She drew pictures of Apollo and Daphne, Poseidon and Medusa, Zeus and Io. She knew these were blasphemy, that she would be punished by the gods, if they even really existed, but that would just make her an example of their cruelty.

Age fifteen, she snapped, she posted a picture of her art on instagram, a watercolour painting of Athena and Arachne with the caption ‘what do you think? Better then Athena?’. It blew up immediately- “You’ll regret that” “I actually agree” “It’s pretty but not that good” The comments didn’t stop

Age one thousand and fifteen, Athena sat in her throne on Olympus and surveyed the situation. She had been following the young woman with the name of her old rival since birth, giving her the gift of artistry in an attempt to make peace with the mortal that had opposed her, long sent to Hades. Instead the maiden had embraced her name and continued on the same path as her predecessor. She decided to rehash her point, without killing this mortal, afraid she may be innocent, killing innocents being a thing the goddess had been opposed to since her father killed her best friend Pallas. Yes, she would do exactly what this girl had been setting herself up for, failure.

Age sixteen , she had become a minor celebrity in her school as she continued to post her artwork and receive more controversy that just made her account more popular. Walking through school, art supplies in hand, a crowd formed around her, not an unusual occurrence, all yelling things at her. One voice, however could be heard about them all, that of an old substitute teacher who praised the artist and commented on the fact that she must be blessed by the goddess of art. She was met with a fierce retort with many a crone, bitch and hag, finishing with a stare into the sky and a shout, commanding the goddess herself to come down and face her, if she even existed.

Age one thousand and sixteen, the goddess smiled in the form of the substitute and accepted the challenge, met with gasps from the surrounding students. As she ascended to her regal form in her long flowing robes and battle helm, she could see the brief glimpse of fear in her challenger’s eyes, a sight that was gone in a blink. The goddess announced to the crowd that she would renounce the blasphemers blessings and will then go face to face with her in a competition of artistry, for the goddess to decide the winner. The crowd cheered and called for the rest of the school to gather and watch the show.

Age sixteen, the mortal brought paintbrush to canvas and began to replicate the tapestry her namesake had weaved in her own competition with this same goddess. She found, however, her talent had abandoned her, Zeus and Io looked like hangman drawings, the tree Daphne turned into looked like a five year old’s Christmas card. The crowd jeered and tears began to soak the canvas.

Age one thousand and sixteen, the image the goddess formed as one of glorious victory of her and her worshippers. The naming of her city Athens, the victory over Troy through the Trojan horse, her transforming Medusa to save her from the approaches of Poseidon, all rendered in beautiful detail. As the crowd roared for the goddess and booed her mortal opponent, the goddess, who was vengeful but kind, did not turn the maiden into a creature that was named after her predecessor, she instead left the girl to be punished by her peers, leaving  the punishment to the cruelty of humanity.

Age ninety two, Arachne sat in her rocking chair, quietly knitting. She had never regained her talent in art but did learn her lesson and never disrespected the gods after that fateful day. As a golden glow bathed the scarf she was knitting for her granddaughter, she looked up and smiled at the faces that greeted her.

[akgaereporter]

zeroses: queerosins & hetrosins fighting over twitter survey😕

tldr: a big hao pics account did a rosin survey and posted the results, the sexuality section being a whole 51% straight. queerosins started joking abt it bc its ironic but hetrosins took actual offense and start being homophobic forreal.. mind u these people stan ZHANG HETEROPHOBIC HAO🤕

we used to be a proper country..

so earlier @/haopics posted this fun little thread of rosin demographics, like what gender, job, fav song/album, 2nd bias, etc is popular among rosins. super cute n just a fun interactive thing for the subfandom to have, right?? right….????😓

well no.. dont forget u cant laugh or smile in zeroseville they will jinjja slaughter u😕 the issue started when queerosins started making twts about the sexuality portion of the survey, all of which were clearly unserious..?

there qrts were filled w these, and this was genuinely the worst i could find. no one LITERALLY no one was taking it seriously. like as a straight person if u see this and feel inherently offended then we need to run it back bc this is not any form of oppression..? as long as ur not an akgae, not HOMOPHOBIC, streaming his music and supporting him, trust me no1 actually gaf if ure a hetero rosin its just ironic. these twts shouldnt bother u?? maybe giggle at them a little? “im so sorry you have straight fans” should NOT have u pressed enough to tweet sht like this☠:

whats it finna play.. WOAH🤕 when ur in a dramatic competition and ur opponent is a straight rosin.. “remember you cry on the streets to be respected”????????????? hello?????? discriminaton where exactly???? hao would block n report u all actually bc resorting to casually homophobia in response to satirical tweets made by a minority group is insane.. when u stan this man??

what happened to like idol like fans?? like erm.. yall really sitting here upset over “heterophobia” coming from the fans of the heterophobe founding father himself.. idk maybe sit down and think long and hard abt who u stan🤕 best of luck w that

LMFAOO THIS PERSON GMFU. please.. ples.. stop it… i am criiyng… Hao is my bias he is never gay pls… stop spreading rumours please……im tire of people saying he is home of sexual… he is chinese…..😓

there were were also some people who felt it was a bad idea to have the sexuality section included at all, bc its “no one’s business”:

but it was a public survey..? wdym none of ur business when people obviously offered this information up😭 and "did yall ever see him for his talent" is a crazy thing to say in this context like what are u even talking abt dawg🫤 i guess zeroseville has gotten to a point where even talking abt sexuality has become discourse fuel. this is just so unserious like it shouldnt be a problem to mention and joke abt orientation without someone getting mad. yall speculate about the jebes sexualities constantly, hao in particular actually, and if thats not a touchy subject then why is this?? and why was yall's go to response ACTUAL homophobia like..

but out of everyone i feel so bad for haopics like they just wanted to do a fun thing for their subfandom and look what happened,, that dec survey def aint happening after yall pulled this nonsense😭

bottom line everyone needs to unclench and smile a little (challenge level IMPOSSIBLE for zerosetwt)🤕

[c l o s e t a b ?] ◀ ⇨ akgaepop.com

[adventuresinobx]

The Fling

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: JJ Maybank is always around your house; whether it’s tidying the gardening or doing odd DIY jobs, he can’t stay away. Only problem is - you’re married and he can’t stay away from you either.

A/N: Sooo this is inspired by @drewbooooo’s amazing Babysitter series, which you HAVE to read, specifically that kitchen scene cos 🤤🤤

Warnings: Smut, oral-f receiving, cheating

You had become well used to the stares JJ Maybank had been giving you recently. He was working at your house, a sort of gardener mixed in with general handyman, fixing and sorting everything your husband needed. You were engaged to be married to the most popular Kook in the town, but something didn’t feel right with him.

Sure, he was a great guy, always doing everything for you and making sure you lived the life of luxury; yes, we’re talking boat trips on Sundays, summer evening dinners in the garden with your Kook neighbours and everything else the ‘perfect Kook wife’ in you desired, but he didn’t make you feel good in the way JJ did.

“J- we can’t, he could come home any minute now,” you whined, but your words were soon cut off. Your hands flew to JJ’s blonde locks and tugged at his hair, hard - just like he loved. His head was nestled between your thighs, your cute summer dress hitched around your waist as you sat on the kitchen counter and desperately tried to hold it together and not give him exactly what he wanted - and what you wanted too.

You squeezed your legs together - or tried to anyway - but JJ kept his hands on your thighs and pushed them apart as his tongue flicked over your core where you really needed him most. Your heart raced in your chest. The complete thrill of being caught only added more excitement for you, and all you wanted was for JJ to give you what you so desperately needed. You just had to cum, your husband couldn’t make you feel as good as JJ was making you feel. He tried, but he just wasn’t up to the job, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“No underwear again today?” he said, a smug grin on his face as he surveyed you from his position between your thighs. “Making it damn look like you want me badly. Even if you tell me you don’t.” He grinned at you, waiting for your reply. He knew it riled you up more when he said you didn’t want him because how else could you make it more obvious that you were a complete slave to his touch. His fingers ghosted over your core and he admired the wetness between your thighs.

He swiped his fingers across your core, collecting your slick and sucking them into his mouth, tasting you. “I mean look how ready you are for me, dripping all over your kitchen counter,” he teased, “How is your husband going to feel when he knows you make this much mess for me, and me only?” Your hips jolted at his words.

Then finally he moved. You whined at the sensation of his lips pressing against your clit, his tongue poking out to lick a strip up and down your slit, him moving with ease and giving you exactly what you wanted. You bucked your hips up at the feeling, a chuckle emitting from his lips which sent vibrations all through you core and you could have sworn you nearly lost it.

You pulled on his hair hard, the feeling building up inside you as he pushed his tongue between your folds, making sure to lap up as much of you as he could. He would never get tired of how you tasted. It was addictive for him, intoxicating and he always wanted more.

His ringed fingers kept your thighs apart, the cool metal pressed on your skin as he lapped up all you had to offer. His tongue flicked up and down your slit before focusing around that bundle of nerves. He made an O shape with his mouth as he sucked on your clit, his forearm and hand keeping your legs from flailing around at the sensation. This was it, you were moments away from your high now - literally seconds.

He used his free hand to palm himself through his shorts, an obvious tent in his pants as he watched you come undone for him. A few more flicks of his tongue and both him and you were in heaven. You sighed contently, before an almost pornographic moan escaped from your lips. You were pretty sure he was losing it too and you gripped hard on the counter surface as the aftershocks from your orgasm came for a good minute or so.

Finally, he spoke, breaking the silence which was only interrupted by the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Fuck, you squirted,” he said, a grin on his face as he licked his lips, tasting you one more time, “Good girl, made such a mess for me, didn’t you?”

You blushed at his words, sitting up and surveying the mess you’d made in the kitchen of all places. He helped you off the counter, and held you up as your legs threatened to go wobbly from the sensations you’d just been filming. “Careful cupcake,” he said, absolutely unable to hide the smirk from his face.

“Let me clean this up,” he said, grabbing some tissues and bending down on the floor to tidy things up. You just stood there still, your hands gripping on the edge of the counter, trying your best to hold yourself up. You turned the water on in the sink, handing him a wet tissue with a flushed look on your face as you noted how much he had made you squirt. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t in such a post orgasm and lust filled haze.

You took a moment to let your eyes flick down to JJ, him on the floor almost between your legs cleaning all the mess you made. As he continued to survey all his good work, he couldn’t help but grin to himself.

You were lost in the sight for a moment, before you heard a cough and your eyes flicked back up. You smiled instantly as you saw your husband standing in front of you, a sweet smile on his face too.

“Oh hi baby,” you said quickly, alerting JJ to the fact you both weren’t alone right now. He kept himself below the counter, knowing he was out of view as your husband - your loving husband - started asking about your day.

As you tried to give your response, JJ slowly moved his hand up your leg towards your inner thigh, where his lips had been only moments ago. You gripped onto the counter top tighter as your husband raised his eyebrows at you. “I’m fine,” you muttered out, realising he must have noted your change in expression. You thanked God for the sound of the tap still running, it was muffling JJ’s snigger as you struggled to speak coherently with the movement of his hands against you.

“Gonna go get a shower,” your husband said, you just nodding, unable to form any words as JJ’s hand ghosted over your inner thigh and his fingers pressed against your clit. Just as your husband turned on his heel, you let out a squeak as JJ slid two fingers inside you. He snapped his head back, concern on his face, thinking you had said something and he had missed it.

You shook your head, a warm smile forming on your lips as you sent him away - and for his shower.

Once he was out of view, JJ stood back up from his ‘hiding place’ under the counter. You still couldn’t even stand up straight; you were so desperate for more from JJ but the opportunity was gone now your husband was home. “Tastes good,” he hummed, sucking his fingers one last time and making you blush, again.

“Let’s make it happen a lot sooner next time princess. I’ve got so many great plans for us,” he muttered as he excused himself out the bifold patio doors and back into the garden, where he should have been this whole time.

“See you around, I guess,” he said, smirking at you one last time before shutting the door behind himself.

Your eyes shut as you breathed out, your mind absolutely still processing what had just happened.

What had you got yourself into?

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be added 🥰)

@starkeyobx @lovelyhedgehog44 @gryffindorpouge11 @jjmaybankmakesmecry @pankowforlife @bayy2452 @proactivetypeofgirl @hoebx @fangirlfree @severa-kane @lovedetlost @slutforsmutsstuff @drewbooooo @raiinyhood @samxslaughter @valeriiecameron @burgstead @mayceelou @my-baexht-ls @i-always-come-back-xoxo @0fucsgivenon @infatuatedjanes @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[slytherbun]

wildflower

pairing: cedric diggory x hufflepuff!reader

summary: you weren't too sure what to think when a new eye candy transfers to hogwarts and becomes the new seeker of the hufflepuff's quidditch team but you realize in time that he is all of what you hoped for.

word count: 3.7k

tags: @specialagentsoftie

note: so this is all just a bunch fluff. i'm not sure how i feel about it in terms of cringey and hope y'all like it! figured i'd post this anyways either way though lol. i made up the way reader and cedric met at hogwarts so, it's non-canon from the movie.

another note: italics are flashbacks! :)

it was cold.

you could see everybody’s breath in the air outside and knew it was a crime to be out and about now with freezing and chilly weather.

the snow outside coated the ground by inches and the black coats zippered up and wrapped around you only helped so much. you were the type to freeze easily and the climate at hogwarts didn't help your situation at all.

minutes ago before you walked outside, you knocked on the door to his dorm after surveying the hufflepuff’s common room and noticed there weren't very many people around. and when cedric opened the door after you rapped on it a few times—he took in the view of your body wrapped around your blanket before pulling you into his room.

pathetically enough, you were shivering in the halls even with your mitten covered hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat. you weren't about to admit the doubled up socks on each of your feet either underneath the knee-length boots you wore today.

"are you cold?" cedric successfully taunted you when you reached your arm out of the pocket of your jacket and then under the blanket to slap his arm. he hissed and glared your way playfully while rubbing his arm dramatically.

you shrugged with a smirk on your lips and he plopped down onto his soft bed. “don’t get too comfortable.” he suggested when noticing you trying to sneakily get underneath his covers. 

“what i’d do for one of those thermal blankets the muggles use.” you sighed dreamingly while watching him walk towards his closet.

“imagine having a postal company deliver the package to hogwarts? dumbledore would have an aneurysm.” cedric replied and you couldn’t help yourself when imagining the scenario playing out in your mind. 

he turned to the side to admire your smile while you were a little distracted while pulling out a coat. then he closed the closet up and walked back over, holding it in your direction to offer an extra to put over your body. you gladly took it with a smile. "thanks ced."

cedric backed up a few steps and brushed a hand through his brunette hair. not being able to help himself he joked, “can’t have you walking around with your blanket wrapped around you. your height already makes you look so adorable.”

you got off from the bed when he exaggerated with your blanket in hand and scoffed. cedric bit his lip nervously while continuing to back up before he felt the wall pressed against him.

he rubbed the back of his nervously while you held the blanket up to his height and above your own head. “i’m just kidding.” he gulped before you took it and put it over his face.

when he tugged it down from his face he spotted you innocently standing by the door with his jacket around you. “i was going to leave it here anyway. just put it on the bed and i’ll come get it later after we get back.”

while you zippered it up you noticed this particular jacket was the one that you often saw him wearing before he ended up buying a new one for the upcoming winter that you were suffering in now.

and it was longer than the one you had previously put on about twenty minutes ago so, you couldn't argue with him on that steal.

"alright.” he laughed and added with a more serious tone. “oh and by the way—you don't need to thank me. you're my best friend, wildflower."

today was the first quidditch match of the season and you were sitting at the edge of your seat in anticipation. the hufflepuffs didn't score well last season and you were hoping they wouldn't come out with last place again for the year.

y/g/b/f (your girl best friend) sat down on the stands next to you with an umbrella in her hands. you turned and looked at it with a confused face. but she just smiled at your contemplating thoughts and looked up at the sky once before supplying you with an answer.

“well it looks bright now but i have a feeling it’ll rain later.” she always had a suspicion for when it was going to rain or snow and you never second guessed her because every single time she was right.

“did you know we’re having a new seeker play on the team today? i believe he’s going to be captain too if he plays his cards right this game.” she asked. you didn’t know that.

“wait is he the new guy everybody is talking about? i heard the rumors but you know how they are. i didn’t want to take it seriously until i saw it with my own eyes.” you stated and she nodded. 

“yeah he’s a transfer i think but i’m not too sure. his name is cedric diggory though.” after her reply, you glanced around the stands to see if anybody had diggory signs for the game but with no avail you sighed. before you could respond you felt a few droplets on your shoulder. 

your friend gave you a smart-ass grin and popped out the umbrella to hold it over the both of you. “guess we’ll see how good he is.” you mumbled before seeing the players come up to the playing area with their brooms.

butterbeer was pretty popular during the winter season. many students from school usually went and got some to help regulate their body temperature and keep warm.

everybody else must have gotten the same memo because you were inside the three broomsticks now for some butterbeer and it was crowded.

almost every table was filled with peers and that’s probably why you didn’t see many people in the school. with just one glance around the area, you could already tell the divided area’s of where each school was seated right away. 

your tables were to the left area, the slytherins must have come earlier because they grabbed the back ones, some of the ravenclaw’s were off to the right, while harry and the other gryffindor’s had the middle area.

cedric nudged your side to grab your attention and nodded towards the hufflepuff area. “want to grab us some seats and i’ll get the drinks?” he asked and you nodded. “sure, could you get me a snack too if you don’t mind?” 

he smiled and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “i suppose i could.” cedric walked away with a wink and you shook your head knowing he was just humoring you.

little did you know he already had planned to get you something else even before the two of you left the dorms. it had gotten to the point where asking him for little things hadn’t bothered you because you reciprocated all of the time.

but sometimes cedric would give you little excuses when it was your turn to pay, just so he could end up paying for whatever you guys were having or getting. he always spoiled you.

"ah the golden girl is here." hermione scoffed and watched you walk towards the hufflepuff area. your other best friend was seated already and started talking to you when you sat.

the brunette from the red colored house didn't particularly dislike you since you were always nice. sometimes you chatted with her while working on a project that you were paired for. then other times you gave her a soft smile when catching her eye while walking in the halls towards your next class.

she definitely couldn’t help but respect and admire you.

but the reason she didn’t put herself out there and try to befriend you was because you were one of the girls known in school for your smartness, quick reflexes, and witty attitude. 

when people from school talked about you and referred to you as the golden girl instead of your name most of the time—it wasn’t that you were golden per-say but the fact that it matched up perfectly with the school’s color that you sorted it.

hufflepuff was known for its represented yellow color.

and there’s no doubt about it that hermione was also known around the school. but, she felt it was for all of the wrong reasons. despite not having it any other way as one of harry's best friends, she wondered if not for him that in an alternate lifetime that she would be you. 

“why is she wearing cedrics jacket?” ron asked after following hermione’s stare. harry thumped him on the back of his head and then shook his own. “why does it matter?” the one with a thunderbolt on his forehead replied.

“well it is interesting, isn’t it?” the brunette said in defense of ron’s question. the one who didn’t seem curious at all took a sip of the butterbeer in front of him.

he licked his lips, thinking then replied to them with a response. “i mean it’s not our business but it is an odd find now that you pointed it out. maybe he’s just being friendly?”

“as if! cedric has had a crush on y/n since he met her. she’s just oblivious to it all,” she paused and tapped her chin. “—or is she?” ron gasped at her accusation but took a sip of his own drink before she could hear his outburst.

harry noticed her getting riled up once again and sighed. “well i don’t know what else to say. maybe you should just introduce yourself already and ask her instead of me.” he shrugged and hoped to end the conversation there.

you knew exactly who cedric diggory was when he swiftly passed by the hufflepuff area during the game. of course, he was wearing yellow. 

the game has been going on for a decent amount of time now and he was stacking up the scores on the quidditch board—easily passing by the score of the gryffindor’s team.

cedric was undoubtedly the new eye candy for the whole school with the gasps and ‘awes’ from the other girls sitting in the stand. your friend was so busy watching harry that she didn’t catch the commotion.

you didn’t really pay attention to him to get a good glance at his face so, you thought he was just another arrogant rich boy and rolled your eyes.

what you didn’t notice was the way it was like a slow-motion love at first sight situation for him when he went by. since it stopped raining through the middle of the game he was able to catch a quick view of you. 

the week wasn’t done yet so it was possible he’d be seeing more of you in another class he hadn’t had yet. and cedric hoped you were because he couldn’t help but look over in your direction throughout the game to catch another glimpse of your face.

it was still humid outside and you tried wiping your makeup a few minutes ago since it was under your eyes now, but you only smudged it further. your robe was drenched with your wavy and half-dried hair now lying down the back of it. 

but he didn’t care what you thought about yourself because he knew without a doubt that you were the prettiest girl there.

“cedric’s looking pretty good today.” y/g/b/f voiced for the first time today. you played with the napkin in your hand while trying to get a glimpse of cedric. 

“i don’t think you would know even if he was—since you spend all your time looking at harry.” cedric was up to the counter now waiting for your butterbeer and food.

“uh huh. don’t think i haven’t admired cedric before from afar though.” after a moment of not answering her, y/g/b/f noticed that you weren’t paying attention. you knew exactly what she was hinting towards.

cedric did look good.

his hair had that ‘just woken up’ style to it and he always managed to look even more attractive then he should have. the yellow scarf wrapped around his neck was the one that came with every hufflepuff’s supplied uniform clothing.

he usually wore it when you sat with him in potions on a chilly morning and you caught yourself wanting to take it off of him and wear it sometimes.

he always smelled good and it comforted you in ways a best friend shouldn’t have the ability to.

you seemed to have let your guard down and stared longer then you should have which confirmed what y/g/b/f already knew. “i knew it!” she chuckled and stated more loudly than the last comment to snap you out of the zoned out state you were in. 

“know what?” you asked while placing the napkin back down on your table.

cedric was reaching the table and you wanted the conversation to end quickly. you usually dragged out conversation topics like this so you had time to think of another one to distract her with. but, she always found a way to circle it back around again. 

you had to shut it down before he could hear, already knowing exactly what she wanted to talk about again.

“i’ll tell you later before our curfew.” y/g/b/f smirked and you sighed knowing she would in fact take the time out of her night to find you before bed. lucky you.

“hey y/g/b/f. how has your day been?” he asked your other friend while sitting down and placing your refreshments in front of you and then doing the same with his. 

she grinned at you then glanced over at him, “pretty good i guess if it wasn’t for this weather i would say great. how about you? and how’d you manage to get this one out?” she gestured towards you, causing you to roll your eyes. 

here we go again.

you were walking down the path back to the hogwarts dorms with y/g/b/f and some others. there was going to be a small celebration in the hufflepuff’s common room and other students were trying to hurry back without raising suspicions with any professors nearby.

“hey, i’ll be right back y/n/n. i see luna and i’m going to go ask her if she has a hair tie.” she said and pointed to the curly knots that she had on her shoulders.

you nodded and continued along the path while she walked over to the other side. it was quiet for a moment and you surveyed the peaceful area, a few feet over in the grass was a small patch of flowers.

you were about to take a quick look at them before feeling someone tap your shoulder. it was sudden and you couldn’t help but quickly move to the side and form a fist. you were about to throw it but stopped when you stared wide-eyed at the person who scared you.

cedric felt awful and only after he startled you did he realize that you were looking off in the distance of the area. the way you jumped though seemed that you were quick on your feet and he couldn’t help but smirk at the new name he had for you. 

“hey i’m sorry for startling you wildflower but i just wanted to introduce myself. i’m cedric diggory.” he introduced with a panty-dropping smile.

you weren’t sure if it was some kind of joke so you treaded carefully. “uh it’s okay, it’s my fault really for not paying attention but i’m y/n y/l/n. nice to meet you ced.”

cedric held out his hand for you to shake and you took it, giving him a firm shake. after you let go he smirked and questioned. “ced, huh?”

he crouched down to pick up a flower that you were looking at earlier and it reminded you to ask, “wildflower, huh?” you met his statement equally and folded your arms together so they were across your chest to look more tough.

his cheeks tinted a minor shade of pink and tried to hide his embarrassment by ducking down and ignoring your question. instead he glanced back up to tuck a hair behind your ear and then placed the flower there.

“yes, wildflower.” 

and how could you argue with him when he was being so sweet?

the two of you made it back to the common room after an hour of eating, then chatting with cedric and your other best friend. he was sitting on the bed with you sitting next to him.

you’ve been sitting for only about a minute or so—only enough time to shrug off your jackets and place them on the desk chair between that time after walking back to his dorm.

“would you like to lay down for a few minutes?” cedric asked when he noticed the tiredness shown clear as day on your face.

“sure” you agreed and you laid down while he shook your blanket out for the two of you to use. his eyebrows scrunched together when he realized it wouldn’t make much of a difference in comfort with how small it was.

you chuckled watching him trying to maneuver it around and he glanced your way with a smirk of defeat. “hmm, seems this blanket is a little small. would you like to go under the covers?”

cedric was giving into what you wanted earlier before the two of you left and he knew that too. the three broomsticks' food was delicious as always and you just wanted to relax for a few minutes after getting teased by your friend.

he grinned watching you get comfortable after the both of you were situated under the sheets and yellow comforter. there was a hufflepuff patch ironed onto it and you rubbed your thumb over it while laying down.

it wasn’t that awkward since you’ve fallen asleep in his arms a couple of times before already. class exams were frustrating and took a lot out of the students so he took comfort in you and vice versa when there was some down time during the weekends throughout the school year.

with an arm around you—he pulled you close to the point where you could feel his warm breath along your neck. “i don’t think you realize how much i treasure these moments y/n/n.”

he spoke breathlessly and you gulped slowly. you were dumbfounded with how seriously he said that. as if it had some kind of hidden meaning behind it. “me too.” you agreed and wondered if he would leave it at that.

but you knew better and cedric never left well alone when he wanted to get a point across. he turned your body slowly with the arm he had around your middle and you faced him with confusion.

he glanced down once before looking back up and continued on with his confession while staring into your doe eyes—a color he deemed his favorite the day that he met you.

“i’ve been fighting myself for a while on whether or not i should tell you this because i didn’t want my feelings to ruin our friendship. i’d rather be your friend than not be a part of your life at all. and i always look forward to seeing you e-everyday.” he paused when his voice cracked.

after cedric cleared his throat he continued, “and i totally understand if you don’t share the same feelings with me but i just couldn’t go on another day without telling you how i—” you cut him off by leaning in and brushing your lips against his.

he moved closer on the bed, so his skin was touching yours. cedric wanted to get as close to you as he possibly could. your hand swept through his brunette curls and you surprised him by tugging it.

he never knew what you were going to do and his friends teased him that you were a wildcard, to which he’d correct them and say you were his wildflower.

cedric smirked into the kiss and you groaned knowing he was being a smart-ass. but in return, he shocked you when he placed a hand delicately on your cheek to cup it rather softly.

he rubbed your cheek while your hand massaged his curls and then moved them downwards to the nape of his neck.

cedric pushed the hair back from your neck with his hand and then placed it back so his thumb splayed across on your cheek in a loving gesture. and you only wanted him closer after feeling sensitive about the whole astonishment that still had you stunned to the core.

you tugged the collar of his shirt and he pulled away with puffy, red lips and a smile. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, i’m just emotional.” you voiced squeakily and full of embarrassment about it. cedric shook his head and before patting his chest, he held up the comforter over the both of you and let the minimal cold air in.

“oh, baby it’s okay. come here and let's cuddle a little before curfew.”

you bit the bottom of your lip and nodded, giving him a smile in return to the one he gave you and then crawled onto him. “i think i like baby better.” you voiced and laid on his chest with your head over his heartbeat.

he let go of the comforter when he noticed you were settled and tugged it firmly around both of your bodies. “better then what?” he asked.

“wildflower.” you admitted and hummed nervously while awaiting his response. you felt cedric shake his head and he put his arms around your body so you were pressed firmly against him before he kissed your forehead.

“you’ll always be my wildflower.” you closed your eyes after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek in response.

after a moment of laying back down you could feel his chest rising up and down in an odd pattern so, you put your head up to see him laughing again at you.

“what now?” you questioned trying to keep a serious facial expression but failing when he grinned.

“guess you got what you wanted, hmm?” cedric said—referring to the fact that you were finally under the comforters and you smirked.

“of course i always do. including finally getting you, ced.”

[pot-black]

You might be right about being out of step. I would definitely not say I'm an average user here, but I disagree with your take and your example.

For decades now, we have been pushing to get kids interested in school and education. From the genre of young adult literature, to STEM clubs and camps, to educational broadcasting on TV and the internet.

Now those kids who first found their interest in literature or science from Percy Jackson or Bill Nye, respectively, have made their way to college studying those same fields. There they (lets use the OG sample as Lit or English Majors) are asked, on course of survey, "What is your favorite book?".

Now you try to stress the serious context of academia in the question, and that the subtext is "What is the book or work that made you decide to choose this major or study this field?" You then criticize those that name children's or young adult literature as that work, as being immature or unknowledgeable.

Yet, you have missed the other context of the students themselves. These are not kids who have been in the field for years, these are freshman. And I believe freshman see the subtext of the question to be instead, "What is the book or work that made you a reader?"

In this same view, a question of same subtext aimed toward those who chose a STEM based field , would not be one like "What theorem or physical model do you find most inspiring?" but "What got you interested in this STEM Field?" Remember again this is being asked of college freshman. Assuming they have just graduated high school the prior spring, then they have only been legal adults for a few months or a year. They are still teenagers regardless.

Is it really that horrible that when asked a question of subtext on what made them a reader or got them interested in physics, they answer with the same books and shows that society has been pushing to do just that?

You also have a different bias, that I suspect may come from your STEM field career, that "inspiring" literature that is worthy of academia can not also be "fun to read on a lazy Saturday". I still have favorite ghost stories, from the time I took a class on gothic literature, that fill both criteria.

Honestly, I can imagine a whole paper could be written on this subject, a discussion of young adult literature and the significance it has in the development of adolescents, veering off to discuss what exactly makes a work "worthy" of academic discussion, touching on the age of the piece, the themes it may contain, and the "language" it uses in relative to formality and the maturity of the reader. But I didn't get my bachelors in literature, so someone else can write it.

To conclude, I think this is all overblown concern. The students asked were first years, college freshman. They interpreted the question to straightforward be one of favorites, and responded with a young adult story they enjoyed, because of course, young adult lit is aimed at ages 12-18, and most freshman are 18-19. This genre is also not a new thing, and has been around in some form for over a century.

Much of the change in answers can be explained by a more open Student-teacher relationship and the evolution of the genre. Consider that Alice's Adventure's in Wonderland, Treasure Island, and Tom Sayer were aimed at Young Adults. And starting in the 40s, books that dealt in heavy real issues become popular. Many a lit class has taken to discuss the themes of Catcher in the Rye, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, or The Bell Jar. Those are Young Adult as well. Right now fantasy lit has come back. Who knows what future freshman will consider their favorites?

Ppl on the other hellsite losing their minds over this in every imaginable direction lmao

[canmom]

comment on this argument between @anarcha-catgirlism and @leviathan-supersystem.

honestly probably misguided as a contribution, but it tickled the special interest/former-field-of-study nerve enough to spend several hours writing about it, so i’ll be damned if i let the effort go to waste.

'string theory has trouble producing falsifiable predictions due to its huge parameter space' is not exactly a foreign criticism from within the field. for a popular introduction to what string theory aims to solve and why it seems so promising, and the limitations that have led us to getting stuck without major progress for several decades, PBS space time has a good pair of videos - part 1, part 2. to put it briefly, it wasn't a bad line of inquiry on the face of it, and went through a number of promising theoretical developments since the 80s, but eventually ended up unifying in a 'landscape' of 10^500 possible topologies with no obvious way to distinguish them, which could potentially fit just about any set of observations. as far as its ontological commitments, it might be even more of a puzzle than plain old quantum mechanics since there are so many geometric ways to express the mathematics.

as for dark matter, that one’s got a lot more going for it, but let me refer to hossenfelder. the rotation curve problem is one line of evidence, along with e.g. galaxy cluster speed measurements, theoretical problems in cosmology, and lensing observations, which all might be solved by the hypothesis of a new, weakly interacting particle. but as she discusses, there are empirical problems with that approach, and it finds several discrepancies with the data - even things like the Bullet cluster (although that seems especially contentious). so for this reason, modified gravity theories seem to be broadly coming back into more serious consideration, which might proceed by e.g. adding a new field which operates on large scales. this might seem a much bigger change to our understanding than simply proposing a new, weakly interacting particle, but adding a new particle and adding a new field aren't ultimately so different, because particles are just packets of energy in fields.

hossenfelder proposes - plausibly I think - that these two approaches can actually be made compatible, potentially by using condensed matter tools. is she right? not clear, but broadly it does seem that dark matter-sans-modified gravity is no longer on as secure footing as it was a couple decades ago.

even so, dark matter especially is science working as it's supposed to. the amount of claimed mass involved may be eyebrow raising, but we have discovered a problem, advanced a parsimonious hypothesis, worked out how it would relate to other lines of enquiry (e.g. putting the proposed dark matter in the FRLW metric to create the lambda-CDM model in cosmology), and done experiments (astronomical surveys of galaxy rotation curves, gravitational lensing studies to map the mass distribution in clusters) to test it. with that we've narrowed the space of possibilities for dark matter and perhaps forced a revision of our initial hypothesis. the problem was not a mathematical error, but a genuine case of our best available theory making an incorrect prediction. replacing it is not so easy, though: making a relativistic form of MoND required considerable theoretical effort and in so doing, loses the elegance that made general relativity compelling in the first place.

as far a string theory, that's in a much less healthy place. we had good reasons to think of it as a possible candidate for solving quantum gravity, but it is unusual for a theory to consume so many theoretical resources without really having a concrete way to test it. afaiu the main hope for an empirical test was supersymmetry - not equivalent to string theory but necessary to it. and yet as we push into higher energies taking more extreme colliders, supersymmetric particles have stubbornly refused to show up. so we're left with needing to build a new, even more powerful collider to access higher energies with no guarantee it will find supersymmetry either. for this reason, the whole paradigm is on shakier ground.

the other main issue with string theory is just how adaptable it is. a theory that explains everything explains nothing, so if every low-sigma experimental oddity gets papers on the arxiv advancing a string theory model to explain it, that's not a good sign for the framework itself! i understand the string theorists' pain though. they want their investment of effort to bear fruit, and so they will look everywhere they can to narrow down that huge parameter space

still. a good theory, like general relativity, will start from 'simple' axioms (in a certain rather abstruse sense, not necessarily easy to understand for humans, but like, very general and minimal assumptions) and use them to unify our understanding of seemingly unrelated phenomena. string theory showed apparent promise there, hence the effort put into it. a good theory will almost always require some parameters to be tuned empirically, but its predictions should be tightly coupled enough that the theory as a whole can be ruled out if observations are inconsistent with it.

what scientists with experience in the field have consistently said is that string theory, with its 'landscape' of models, struggles to produce such definite predictions. which doesn't make it completely hopeless - it may be some major theoretical insight to thin out the field is still missing!  - but at least strongly raises the question of looking for other approaches to solving the quantum gravity problem.

the big issue we have at the moment is that getting into a regime where GR and the standard model of quantum field theory have not been tested is very difficult. the 20th century brought a whole series of paradigm-busting revelations, but that well seems to have dried up a lot, leaving us with some severe theoretical problems where it's unclear how they might be solved. that's exciting but also frustrating compared to the feverish pace of early 20th century physics.

anyway, to lev-sup, as far as the empiricism-rationalism argument you're making there, this is setting up two total cartoons against each other. a good physical theory needs to stand on both theoretical grounds like parsimony and even elegance, and empirical grounds like a history of correct predictions. you could explain absolutely every observation with an overfitted kludge of ad hoc hypotheses - demons are carefully arranging everything you see! Beatrice opened the door with magic! - but it would not give us what we seek in science. the startling achievement of science is that we have been able to find theories that are both simple and powerful.

unfortunately, hypothesis generation is not normally given the same degree of emphasis in pop theories of the scientific process, despite consuming as much if not more of the energy of scientists as experiments. it’s usually treated as a black box: scientist comes out with a hypothesis to test. in fact there are nigh infinite possible hypotheses; we inescapably have to exercise judgement as to which ones are worth the effort to pursue in detail.

even a theory that ultimately failed, like classical Newtonian physics, can be both a necessary step on the road and an approximation that is applicable outside of the domains where it's known to break down. we still use Newtonian physics every day despite it being unequivocally disproven; quantum mechanics and GR both had to prove they would reduce to Newtonian physics on the familiar scales. a naive empiricism would never have gotten beyond the measurements of Brahe, but Newton was able to hit on a theoretical frame capable of unifying seemingly disparate phenomena and generating reliable predictions.

and, even more remarkably, centuries later, after it seemed we were only left with 'stamp collecting', we abruptly hit the limits of Newton as electromagnetism came into the picture, raising difficult questions about wave propagation which led to ultimately incorrect hypotheses like the lumineferous aether - and yet, amazingly, we were able to repeat the same feat in a space of decades rather than centuries. notably though, Einstein's paper introducing special relativity didn’t manifest in vacuo, but followed a couple of decades of scientists wrestling with the unsolved theoretical problems (hence e.g. the aether drift experiments). you can read about it here.

the early years of quantum mechanics don't make for quite a neat a story - after the first insight that quantisation could solve problems like the photoelectric effect and black body radiation, there were a mess of different theoretical approaches, some of which turned out in the end to be equivalent and others proved wrong. still, within 50 years of the initial discoveries, physicists had already made the first moves towards a relativistic quantum field theory... and much more horribly, proven that their line of enquiry was onto something by providing means to incinerate the populations of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. which is why, ultimately, something so abstruse and hard to understand as theoretical physics commands such funding from states still: nobody wants to be late to the 'next' nuclear bomb or computer.

later 20th century physics continued to have a fruitful dialogue between theory and experiment, refining what seemed to be a dizzying 'zoo' of subatomic particles into just 16, all given by an elegant gauge field theory with the SU(3)×SU(2)×U(1) symmetry group (which admittedly doesn't look so pretty when you work out out in full). after all those victories, it seemed that perturbative field theories were set to do what we once thought Newton had done, and provide a complete, elegant framework dividing possible from impossible.

...and that was like 50 years ago now. since then, the standard model has shown an incredible record of being right about experiments - which is unfortunate, because we still don't know how to make it work with gravity, or what gives rise to the cosmological observations we're trying to explain with 'dark matter'.

physics keeps surprising us, so we can never do without empiricism. yet to do any sort of empirical investigation requires a usable theoretical frame, so we can even talk about things like "electrons" or even something as everyday and commonplace as "weight" (it is a modest physical theory to say an object weighed at market will weigh the same on the scale at home). it's not some sort of either-or: you cannot function without both. and we can fully expect to chase blind alleys every so often. is string theory ultimately a blind alley? unclear, i think even to experts in the field, but plenty of scientists now seem to think so, and are turning their efforts to other research programs.

of course there are ulterior motives shaping the ecosystem, like departmental politics, the current neolib obsession with rigid performance metrics, and the competition for funding, which lead physicists to chase fads, pack their abstracts with popular buzzwords, and overhype the implications of their work. string theory for a long time has been the dominant paradigm for theoretical physics, consuming lifetimes of effort, and it is natural for people to resent that, especially when it hasn't led to results. (nuclear fusion research is a similar case - hyped as the energy source of the future, yet unlikely to be ready on a timescale relevant to the climate crisis.)

the other question at stake here seems to be whether 'lay' people can have an opinion on these things - the "do you think you're smarter" comment. the fact is that very "smart", well trained scientists can get things catastrophically wrong. science depends on that capacity - that's what Popperian falsifiability, for all its severe limitations as a theory of science vs pseudoscience, was about in the first place. if scientists can't be wrong, they also can't be right. the grand promise of science is that we semi-randomly crawl the theoretical terrain, trying out what seems promising, and sooner or later we'll rule out the bad ideas and get closer to ‘the truth’. it's worked splendidly in the last few hundred years, but only by making a lot of often catastrophic mistakes.

modern physics requires a lot of extremely specialist mathematical training to properly understand, which is hard to acquire outside of the university system, but that doesn't mean we should just take what scientists say on faith. unfortunately, without at least some background in the field, it is hard to tell the difference between a scientist and a crank, and the sorry, hype-driven state of physical science journalism doesn't help matters. but that doesn't mean it's impossible to investigate from the 'outside' and at least get a rough understanding of what problems we're trying to solve here.

so like. to get back to the original argument - sneering at unresolved lines of enquiry like particle dark matter and even string theory is going way too far. there are good theoretical motivations and reason to think they may yet prove fruitful, and they do point to serious problems in our understanding of the universe. (even modified gravity can’t do without dark matter). so dismissing them without enquiry, and mocking people who pursued these lines of enquiry with the benefit of hindsight, is definitely misguided, I agree with anomie that far.

but! even after investigation, skepticism towards these undecided solutions isn't an unreasonable stance either, and the answer to it is not to try to browbeat and condescend the other party into taking the answers on faith. dark matter should seem, prima facie, like a tough sell - to defend it you really have to go into the evidence, and discuss the limitations of both particle dark matter and modified gravity as solutions, and then make an argument that particle dark matter is more likely to resolve the difficulties. I'm not saying you, personally should do that to random online strangers anomie... but i do think, if i was confronted with say a Christian who tried this rhetorical approach on me, i would be justified in dismissing them.

anyway, to lev-sup, i think for a lot of string theory researchers, they're just young PhD and grad students being chewed up by the academic machine, taking whatever scant opportunities are available to work in physics. that's certainly the case for my friend who is doing a mathematical physics PhD related to string theory, which ngl goes way over my head when she tries to explain it - she's not exactly decided on whether string theory is true and she can of course appreciate its theoretical qualities a lot more than me, but that was what she had the opportunity to study.

but regardless, even for those further up the ladder who have more of a choice i don't think they're exactly regardless-of-evidence true believers, just because they made a bet on this particularly beguiling approach to a hard problem. sunk cost fallacy is real, for sure, but string theorists, i think, want a proper experiment to test string theory more than anyone.

even if it proves to be wrong, the mathematical apparatus they've developed might prove to be useful for other purposes, just as the original kaluza-klein theory proved a valuable step towards gauge field theories. or maybe it won't and it will just be some pretty, abstract mathematics. there was no way to know this in the 80s when this all started, and since then there have been several points where it seemed string theory was about to jump forwards and solve its problems - it's only now that we can look back and say, maybe this wasn't worth it after all. but this is the way with science.

we've mentioned Popper, but we should also consider Kuhn - it's at this point, when problems are mounting and the old paradigm seems to have reached its limits, that he would say a scientific revolution could be brewing. or maybe we'll be stuck a while longer, searching for our keys under the spotlight until someone finally finds a way to point the spotlight somewhere else. of course, perhaps societies capable of building high-energy particle accelerators and assigning sufficient surplus to let people to research theoretical physics will collapse, and ‘we’ will never find out ‘the answer’...

in any case, while it would be unreasonable to disregard quantum mechanics and general relativity, i think you can absolutely doubt string theory. it's an unresolved hypothesis, and it's not the only approach we have to solving quantum gravity. ultimately it is kind of moot whether you 'believe' in it anyway, because the substance of the theory is mathematical, so if you can't follow the mathematics you're just believing in a symbol - a word. I did a degree in physics, and learned a bit of quantum field theory (not as much as I'd have liked for mental illness reasons), but it would still probably take me years of focused effort to get up to speed on what string theory is contending - which I'm not going to do.

I know enough about relativity and QM to satisfy the curiosity that drove me and understand what problems they're trying to solve, and follow informed explanations of the state of the field by researchers. but do I 'believe in' string theory? the particle dark matter vs modified gravity debate? to really do that in a meaningful sense, I feel like I would need to actually work through the derivation of the theories, and determine thoroughly how their predictions correspond to the evidence rather than take it on faith.

and for example, I did work through the derivation of the FRLW metric (underlying basis for ΛCDM) at uni, and it definitely seemed reasonable and conservative in its assumptions, but of course there have been many cases where you can oversimplify in assumptions. [this afternoon, prompted by all of this, I did some reading into hossenfelder's argument that we should view the new fields of modified gravity and the new particles of dark matter as two views on the same phenomenon with a kind of phase transition between the different behaviours, best approached with condensed matter tools. it seems compelling to me... but the devil would be in the details and i sucked at condensed matter lol. she seems to have been publishing papers on the subject of ‘superfluid dark matter’ which mimics MoND effects upon the arXiv, which, who knows, there’s so many candidates out there. but i don’t want to favour one person’s analysis just because she has a youtube channel.]

obviously i can't personally investigate every question, but i definitely thing one should hesitate to put blind faith in the judgement of ‘experts’. which is where you come to like... a matter of communication: whether the interpreter gives a convincing performance of explaining things as clearly as possible, breaking down the subject in what appears to be a sensible way, being appropriately skeptical, establishing the full context, being correct on matters where I do know the answer, and not leaving out difficulties with their preferred stance. establishing credibility, basically. put like that, 'performance' seems like a pretty weak epistemic criterion, because it would be easy for someone to do all of that and still get it wrong... but it's really all we have to rely on.

and, seriously, it’s not about who’s smarter. every competing candidate theory of quantum gravity has a lot of ‘smart’ people behind it. though, yes, making a snap judgement on an undecided question based on aesthetic considerations alone is... well whatever lol.

ultimately it doesn't matter one bit whether anyone believes string theory or particle dark matter is correct, or whether they’re right... unless we find a use for it. people believe all sorts of things that i think are wrong, or that i just don't understand what it means for them to believe, and it’s fine! we can think of fields like cosmology as a very demanding art discipline - a satisfying theory of the evolution of the universe is, to humans, a grand story we are telling ourselves. a fascinating, alienating story with a claim to ‘truth’... but still a story! our characters are assumptions, equations, geometries and particles, our plots are chains of careful inference and timelines of the first second after the Big Bang, our conclusions are entropy and decay... but ultimately, why tell a story like this? just curiosity, a desire for context and meaning and that nebulous thing 'truth'... very human needs.

did it hurt the people of ancient Sumeria to not have the benefit of radio telescopes and a corresponding theoretical apparatus that can tell them that the universe is 13.8 billion years old? not especially, I think. I would strongly prefer not to believe false things on a personal level, but not a lot of good or harm happens if I’m wrong about something on that sort of scale.

I've gone on way longer than i meant to, this argument has probably progressed a lot further by now or died. but, gah. i love physics, i once thought it would be my life's work, and while it ended up that i could never cope with academia as the screwed up adhd tranny i turned out to be, I still want to inspire that same sense of curiosity that fascinated me, walk people to the same fascinating and unexpected answers i was lucky enough to learn about. so if somebody has the impression that modern physics is just like theologians arguing about the properties of ineffable angels, with no way to ever test it, i guess my instinct is to try and show why there is something more to be seen here. that there are reasons why we thought that looking for dark matter or diving into the noodly depths of string theory would bear fruit. but before we even get there, there’s so much fascinating shit to learn about just 20th-century physics.

and i guess i’ll leave it that. take it or leave it :/

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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[dickwheelie]

sooooooo I wrote a sequel to that love entities jmart post that got pretty popular. all you really need to know is that post mag 200 jon becomes a local cryptid and listens to people's stories about encounters with the entities to help unburden them of some of their fear. please enjoy!

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Just inside the entryway of Old Fishmarket Close, hidden just out of sight of the street, there stands a shrine. It is not an old shrine of weathered stone, nor is it carefully crafted with intricate religious symbols, nor is it static, weighed down by years of collected dust. It is in many ways a living shrine; flowers bloom and wilt at its feet, while above it, against the wall of the Close, piles of paper, photographs, and keepsakes are haphazardly stacked and stuck. The shrine seems to breathe as each day passes, as innumerable and unsung hands replace its flowers and let their offerings crawl up its wall like vines.

The shrine is not marked, but everyone who looks for it, in the shadows of the entryway, knows precisely who it is for.

You arrive that day with only a piece of notebook paper in your hand. Upon it is written a short message, and not an uncommon one to see at the shrine: Thank You. A substitute, of sorts, for the flowers and other gifts that people often leave. You, like many others, are not well off, and you hope that a small note can make up for your lack of material offerings.

As you approach the shrine, a gust of wind whistles through the alleyway and rustles the pages plastered across the length of the wall. You’ve brought no adhesive, so you slip the piece of paper partially beneath a bouquet lying on the stone walkway. It’s relatively fresh, so you hope it won’t be moved anytime soon. You’ve no idea who replaces the flowers, but you suspect it’s never the same person twice. The locals all know about the shrine and the person it’s meant for, and they’ve grown protective of them both.

Dozens of other people have had the same idea before you; the ground is littered with short notes of gratitude. Thank you for listening, says one, transcribed in loving calligraphy, the i’s dotted with hearts. Thank You For Finding Me, Whoever You Are, says another. I rely lik yor hat, says one written in crayon. Another says, You’ll probably never read this, but thank you for hearing my story. There must be hundreds of them, and there are more each time you visit.

You had spent the better part of the morning trying to come up with something more eloquent to write, but you’ve never been great with words. Telling the mysterious person your story had been the only time you’d ever felt as though your words matched your thoughts, that what came out of your mouth was exactly how you felt, and that the person you were talking to understood you fully.

You suppose a thank you is better than nothing, and after one last fond look at the shrine, you turn to go.

A footstep that is not your own echoes down the alleyway. You turn, half-alarmed, but relax at once when you see who it is.

You have only ever seen him once before, about a month ago when you told him your story, but he is difficult to forget; his figure tall and thin, his posture horrendous, his features hidden entirely by a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He stands now at the far end of the alleyway, hands clutched before his hunched torso, giving you the distinct impression he’s staring directly at you.

“Um, hello,” you say, haltingly. You’re not quite sure how to address him, but you figure a polite greeting is universal. You gesture at the shrine. “I don’t have, uh, another story or anything. I was just leaving a note for you.”

His hat tips curiously to the side, and he shuffles forward with his cautious gait, peering closer at the shrine. The dark brim of his hat swivels towards you, as though asking a question.

“The shrine,” you say. “I just left a short note. It’s no big thing, I just—I wanted to leave something.”

The words seem to mean nothing to him. He looks at the shrine, then at you, then back at the shrine. He steps a bit closer to it, and reaches out a long-fingered, gloved hand to touch the petals from a bouquet of daffodils. After the briefest of moments, he pulls away again, hands resuming their wringing.

A thought occurs to you. “Do you . . . do you not know what this is?”

He shakes the hat once.

“This is . . . this is for you,” you say, spreading your arms to encompass the garden on the ground and the sea of pages above. “The flowers, the little trinkets, the thank-you letters—it’s for you. From . . . from all of us, who’ve told you our stories. You’ve helped us so much, we wanted to let you know how much we appreciated it. How grateful we are.”

He doesn’t react, and so you reach out and pick out a card, one that says, Talking to you about how scared I was of the dark made me less afraid of it. I sleep better at night because of what you did for me. Thank you, mysterious stranger. Much love, E.M.

“Here,” you say, handing it to him, and he takes it with a shaky glove. The brim of his hat lowers as he reads. "That’s just one of them. There are loads more just like that.” You survey the pile and pick out another. “This one’s from a kid, thanking you for helping their mom . . . And this one’s just a simple thank you note but they did cover it in glitter glue, so, there’s that . . . And this person wanted you to know that their anxiety improved after talking to you . . .”

He takes note after note from you, reading them all, silent and unexpressive as always, but there’s something in his posture that is unbearably human. Somehow it reminds you of how people stand when they hold a baby chick in their hands.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” you say, not unkindly. You’re both sitting on the ground now, amidst the bouquets and piles of thank-yous. “Who else would this all be for?”

As he picks up yet another note, a tremor runs through his body. He raises a gloved hand to the shadows beneath the hat, and you watch as two drops of water stain the page in his hand. His chest convulses as more tears fall, his hand moving under the hat to wipe them away, but they keep coming. Still he makes no sound.

You didn’t know he could cry. You don’t know why you’re surprised; he’s strange, certainly, and perhaps not entirely human . . . but he has heard so many horrible things, and human or not, he deserves a chance to cry.

“Are you—are you okay?” you say, not sure what to do.

The hat nods once, and then shakes.

“I . . . I know it’s probably a lot, all at once,” you say, and you reach out to touch his arm. The movement comes naturally, without much thought; you would have done the same for a friend.

He flinches at your touch, and you immediately pull away, but then he relaxes again, and nods. Tears are still falling from the shadows down onto his coat.

You touch his arm again, gently, and he doesn’t move away. “I’m sorry if it’s overwhelming. But we really are grateful, and you have a bad habit of not accepting thanks. This was one of the only ways we could think to . . . to show you.” You take a deep breath, and gaze into the shadows of where his face might be, doing your best to look him in the eye. “We don’t really know who you are, or why you came here, or why you choose to listen to us. But somehow, we know you mean well. I think everyone who’s told their story knows that, me included. That you’re trying to help us, that you want to do good. And you do. We . . . we want you to know that you’ve done good.”

His chest rises and falls shakily, and though he still makes no sound you swear you can hear a sob. He reaches out and grasps your arm in turn, and suddenly you realize what he needs.

“Can I give you a hug?” you ask.

The hat nods, again and again, and you open your arms, and he falls forward. You would have done the same for a friend.

You almost expect the hug to be gentle, but it is not; it is tight and desperate, and feels so human you do not think twice about hugging him back just as tightly. He is not terribly warm, but you can feel a heart beating beneath his coat. A few tears fall on the back of your jacket. You know that if you just looked up, you would be able to see his face beneath the hat, but you keep your eyes shut tight.

When you move apart, a few moments later, he seems a little more composed, and no more tears fall from beneath the hat. He straightens his back a bit, growing taller even in a sitting position, and you can see just the barest hint of a mouth, which is smiling a delicate, wobbly sort of smile. He brings a gloved hand up to his chin, placing his fingertips against it, and moves them towards you, once, twice.

You are by no means fluent in sign language, but you recognize the sign for Thank you when you see it.

You smile back at him. “You’re welcome,” you say.

He looks back at the shrine, at the piles and piles of notes he has yet to read. You watch as he picks up a handful more, seemingly at random, shuffling them in his hands and pressing them close to his chest. After a pause, he reaches out and slowly picks up one of the bouquets, overflowing with small blue flowers. You’re not entirely sure, but you think they might be forget-me-nots. He pulls a single flower from the bunch and tucks it, carefully, into the collar of his coat, as though for safekeeping.

He nods once, satisfactorily, and stands slowly, giving a small bow in your direction before he turns and shuffles back down the alleyway, the bushel of blue flowers peeking over his shoulder, rustling in the breeze.

Just before he is swallowed by the shadows at the far end of the Close, you call out, “Thank you! Again. For . . . for everything.”

It’s certainly just a trick of the light, but when he turns back to look at you, just before the shadows overtake him, you swear you can see the light catch on a single, twinkling eye, crinkled in one corner by what must be a smile.