#highlighting the fact I need to do some lighting studies

[drunkcleric-art]

Nobody wishes I had any sort of joke of context for this than me

It made me laugh, so take it

Peitha unlocked new vari lore that each one is a secret lamp you just gotta find out how

[luckystay]

𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣

words count: 7k

Relationships: bsf!bangchan x fem!reader x bsf!hyunjin

Synopsis: after years of friendship, you're shocked to learn your best friends aren’t gay, and are in-fact attracted to you.

Warnings: smut with plot, mutual pining, threesome (mfm), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), heavy sexual tension, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, light manhandling, praise kink, mild jealousy, mentions of insecurity, alcohol consumption, and swearing.

(Minors, please do not interact!)

A/N: again did not proofread, also i'm having so many issues writing smut any advice can help.

Chan was the first person I spoke to on my first day at university. I still remember the way he approached me—this energetic, smiling guy who exuded confidence, a kind of confidence I couldn’t even imagine having.

At first, I thought maybe he was just being polite, trying to make the nervous girl feel more at ease. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that wasn’t the case. Chan wasn’t just friendly—he had this way about him that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. It wasn’t something he tried to do; it just came naturally. We clicked immediately, and by the end of our conversation, I found myself laughing at his jokes, sharing stories, and feeling a sense of comfort I hadn’t expected.

After that, I didn’t really have to make any more friends. Chan took care of it. He introduced me to his friends, and just like that, I found myself a part of a whole new group. Felix, with his sweet nature and infectious laugh, Jisung, who always seemed to know how to make me laugh no matter how exhausted I was, and then there was chan’s roommate Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was different. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intimidated at first. He was... well, he was hot—too hot, actually. Tall, effortlessly cool, with an air of quiet intensity that seemed to draw people in. Honestly, I thought he was out of my league. Every time I tried to talk to him, I’d stumble over my words, my face flushing under his steady gaze. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious whenever he was around, like his confidence only highlighted how awkward I felt.

But all that changed when I started spending more time with them. Chan, being my main friend, and Hyunjin, being his roommate, meant I was bound to be around him a lot.

To my surprise, I started to see a different side of Hyunjin. The intimidating vibe? It wasn’t really who he was. He had a sense of humor—quirky, odd even, but adorable. Once he felt comfortable around me, he let his guard down, and I found myself enjoying his company more and more. He wasn’t the aloof, untouchable guy I’d once thought he was. He was just Hyunjin—relatable, funny, and incredibly easy to talk to.

All throughout university their dorm room became my unofficial home. i’d spend hours there—study sessions that turned into late-night talks, long gaming marathons, and movie nights that always ended with one of us falling asleep in some awkward position on the couch.

We became this inseparable trio. We went through heartbreaks together, laughed over drunk nights, celebrated wins, and comforted each other through the lows

Slowly but surely, my feelings for Hyunjin evolved. He wasn’t some crush anymore—he was my best friend. Over time, I stopped thinking about him in that way entirely.

I knew both Hyunjin and Chan were hooking up with people now and then, but we had this unspoken rule in our friendship: unless it was serious, we didn’t talk about it. That part of our lives stayed private, and I was okay with that. It wasn’t something we needed to discuss, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes.

Eventually, though, I settled on an assumption that made everything easier. The way Hyunjin and Chan were with each other, so effortlessly close and affectionate—it just made sense. They had to be gay, right? That explained the mystery, the privacy, everything. And honestly, it was fine with me. I wasn’t interested in either of them like that, and they didn’t seem interested in me. Our bond worked perfectly the way it was.

Or so I thought.

Now fresh out of uni, we found ourselves navigating adulthood together. Jobs, bills, responsibilities—it was a new world, but at least we had each other. Moving in together felt like a natural extension of our bond. Splitting rent made financial sense, but beyond that, we weren’t ready to let go of the dynamic we’d built.

The house wasn’t huge, but it had just enough space for the three of us to feel at home. It was chaotic at times, sure—Hyunjin’s half-finished art projects scattered across the living room, Chan’s endless work-from-home setup that seemed to expand every week, and my collection of books and mismatched mugs taking over the kitchen. But it worked. It always did with us.

living together now was... different. They weren’t just my friends anymore; they were men. And men like Chan and Hyunjin? They were impossible to ignore.

Physically, the changes were obvious. Chan’s broad shoulders and steady presence commanded a room effortlessly, while Hyunjin’s sharp jawline and lean, athletic build seemed designed to draw attention. They moved with purpose now, their every gesture confident and deliberate. But it wasn’t just how they looked—it was how they treated me.

In university, we were a chaotic trio, all equals in the chaos of growing up. But now? Now, they treated me like I was something precious.

Chan, always the dependable one, had become a protector in ways that felt heavier, more deliberate. He’d steady me with a hand on my lower back when we crossed busy streets, or hold open doors without a second thought. When we walked home late at night, he’d position himself closest to the curb, glancing over his shoulder every so often to make sure I was okay.

Hyunjin, for all his teasing, had a subtle gentleness that made my breath hitch. He’d help me carry groceries without being asked, his hand brushing against mine as he took the heavier bags. When I complained about how sore my shoulders were after work, he didn’t hesitate—just walked up behind me, warm hands massaging out the tension.

their touches were what really undid me.

It wasn’t like before, when their hands would land on my shoulder or ruffle my hair in passing. Now, every touch lingered. Chan’s hand on my waist as he guided me through a crowded room felt possessive in a way that sent shivers down my spine. Hyunjin’s fingers brushing a stray hair out of my face felt more intimate than it should have been.

And it wasn’t just the touches—it was how easily they did it, how natural it seemed for them to manhandle me in small ways. Chan would reach over me without warning, his chest brushing my back as he grabbed something off the top shelf. Hyunjin would wrap an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer on the couch as he teased me about some show we were watching.

It was maddening. I’d tell myself it didn’t mean anything, that we were just friends. But the truth was; having two ridiculously attractive men treating me like this? Protecting me, touching me, looking at me the way they did? It was impossible to ignore the heat that simmered beneath the surface.

And the worst part? They didn’t even seem to notice what they were doing to me. To them, it was all so casual, so natural. But to me, it was intoxicating. Every brush of their hands, every low chuckle, every whispered “you okay?” left me more confused and yearning than ever.

Tonight, I’d slipped into a cream-colored sweater, paired with a black mini skirt that showed off a teasing amount of leg. It wasn’t like I’d dressed up for any particular reason; Felix and Jisung were coming over for dinner, and I wanted to look nice. Simple as that.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

The kitchen was filled with the rich scent of garlic, onions, and herbs. hyunjin stirring something on the stove. His broad shoulders filled out the fitted black shirt he was wearing, and the veins in his forearms flexed as he moved the spoon in lazy circles. When I entered, the sound of my footsteps seemed to grab his attention. His eyes flicked up, scanning me from head to toe before settling on my face. It was quick, but it wasn’t subtle. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped, the look lingering just a moment too long on my legs before lifting back up. His lips curled into a smirk, just a little, and I felt my heart race.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too casual.

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck as I shrugged. “It’s just dinner.”

I crossed the space between us, standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His broad frame cast a shadow over me, and I instinctively tilted my head back to look up at him. He was taller than I remembered—taller, broader. The way his body seemed to fill the space made it hard to breathe for a moment.

“Thought I’d see if you needed help,” I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice was a little shakier than I wanted. I knew I had no idea how to cook, but standing this close to him made my mind scramble for anything to say.

“Help?” he repeated, his smirk deepening, his voice almost teasing. “You don’t even know where we keep the knives.”

“Not the point,” I shot back, hoping my words sounded more confident than I felt. My hands were already a little clammy, and my stomach twisted in knots.

Before I could say anything else, I felt a warmth at my back, and the unmistakable presence of Chan, who had entered quietly. His hand brushed lightly against the small of my back, his fingers just barely grazing my skin, and I froze.

Chan was  wearing his usual jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clung to his chest in ways that made it hard to look away.

“Stealing her already?” Chan’s voice was light, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something I couldn’t quite place. His fingers lingered for a second longer, just enough to make me painfully aware of how close he was. I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

“Wasn’t stealing,” Hyunjin responded, still holding my gaze, his voice casual but there was that underlying heat again, like he knew exactly what was going on. “She just knows I’m the best cook.”

I shifted slightly, crossing my legs without thinking, trying to hide the sudden flutter of heat I felt coursing through me. Chan’s hand didn’t leave my back, his touch light but somehow heavy all at once. I tried to focus on the conversation, on the joke they were making, but it felt almost impossible. The tension in the room was thick, and it felt like both of them were acutely aware of how close we were, of the way my body responded to them.

“Don’t steal her for yourself just yet,” Chan teased, a playful glint in his eyes. “We still need her to taste-test.”

I managed to force out a laugh, but it felt weak compared to the way my body was reacting to their proximity. The casual banter, the touches, the way their eyes lingered—everything felt too intimate. It was as if the friendship we’d built over the years was beginning to blur, and I didn’t know how to pull away from it.

This is not how friends should feel towards each other right?

Dinner was lively, filled with laughter and chatter as always, you were seated between Hyunjin and Felix, with Chan directly across from you, you couldn’t escape the charged atmosphere no matter how hard you tried.

The first real jolt came when you reached across the table for the salt shaker. It had been sitting just out of reach, and without thinking, you leaned forward to grab it. Before you could touch it, two hands moved toward it simultaneously—Chan’s from across the table, and Hyunjin’s from beside you.

Hyunjin’s arm brushed your shoulder as he leaned over, the scent of his cologne filling the space between you. He reached it first, but the motion brought him close—too close. You were painfully aware of the way his body crowded yours, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the table for a moment.

“Got it,” Hyunjin said softly, his voice carrying an almost teasing edge as he passed the shaker to you. His fingers lingered just a second too long against yours, and when you looked up, you were met with his dark, unreadable gaze.

Chan cleared his throat, drawing your attention. You glanced across the table to see him watching the exchange with an expression that was... difficult to place. There was no annoyance there, just something thoughtful, like he was curious.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly adjusting in your seat and trying to shake the warmth creeping up your neck.

As the meal continued, the little moments piled on. Hyunjin’s knee brushing yours under the table, his hand casually resting on the back of your chair when he leaned over to speak to Felix. Chan’s gaze, heavy and unwavering, each time you glanced up from your plate. Even Felix, with his sweet, innocent charm, seemed to sense the tension in the air, his eyes darting between the three of you like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Finally, Felix leaned in closer, nudging your shoulder gently. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Do you still have that cream? The one for sore muscles? My neck’s been killing me.”

The request caught you off guard, but you nodded quickly, grateful for an excuse to escape. “Yeah, I think it’s in my room. Come on, I’ll grab it for you.”

You pushed your chair back, standing up and smoothing your skirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the way Chan’s gaze followed you, lingering just a beat too long. Hyunjin’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to read something in your movements.

The moment you stepped into your room and closed the door, Felix turned to you with an expression you didn’t entirely expect. His usual warm smile was replaced with something sharper, something knowing.

“Alright,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Spill.”

You frowned, genuinely confused. “Spill what?”

Felix arched a brow, his lips quirking into a slight smirk. “Don’t play dumb. What’s going on with you three?”

Your stomach flipped, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “Nothing’s going on. What are you even talking about?”

Felix’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of gentle concern. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” you asked, pulling open a drawer to search for the cream.

Felix sighed, stepping closer. “The way they look at you. The way they act around you. It’s like... it’s so obvious. I don’t know how you’re so clueless.”

You froze, your hand hovering over the drawer’s contents. “Felix, they’re… you know. They’re gay.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Felix let out a low, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer. “you’re so far off.”

Your brow furrowed as you turned to face him fully. “What do you mean? They’re gay. I’ve known them for years, Lix. They’ve never once mentioned being into girls. Not once. And the way they are with each other…” You trailed off, your voice losing conviction under Felix’s knowing stare.

“They’re not gay,” Felix said gently, his tone almost pitying. “Bisexual? Yeah, sure. But gay? Not even close.”

The words felt like they didn’t compute, like Felix had just told you the sky was green. “No way,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not,” Felix said, his voice soft but firm. “Look, I’ve known them longer than you have. And trust me, if you paid even a little attention, you’d notice the way they look at you.”

“What are you even talking about?” you asked, your chest tightening. “They don’t look at me any differently than they look at anyone else.”

Felix’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? They’re constantly looking at you like you hung the moon. Hyunjin can’t go two seconds without finding some excuse to touch you, and Chan? The way he watches you when you’re not looking? It’s... intense.”

You felt heat rush to your face, your heart racing as you tried to process what he was saying. “That’s just how they are. They’re affectionate guys. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Felix tilted his head, giving you a look that was both skeptical and amused. “Affectionate, sure. But this? This is different you cant convince me otherwise. I’m not saying they’re in love with you or anything—” he paused, reconsidering. “Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to sit down on the edge of your bed. “Felix, this is insane. They’ve never said anything. Never even hinted at anything.”

Felix sighed and crouched down in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees. “They’re careful, okay? They don’t want to scare you off. But as someone who’s been watching this dynamic for years, I’m telling you—you’re not seeing the whole picture.”

You stared at him, your thoughts spinning. The years of friendship, the countless nights spent together, the laughter, the teasing touches, the moments you’d brushed off as nothing more than camaraderie. Could he be right? Had you really been that oblivious?

Felix straightened up, offering you a small, encouraging smile. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But maybe... don’t dismiss it so quickly. Pay attention. You might be surprised.”

After the guys left, I had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours, Felix’s words looping endlessly in my head. They’re not gay. His voice echoed with conviction, and I felt ridiculous for letting it get to me. But I couldn’t stop replaying every touch, every look, every little thing that now felt heavier with meaning.

A soft knock on my door made me jump.

“Hey,” Chan’s voice came through, quiet but warm. “We’re hanging out in the living room. You coming?”

I hesitated before swinging my legs off the bed. “Yeah, give me a sec.”

When I padded into the living room, both of them looked up, Chan holding a beer, Hyunjin sprawled out on the couch, his sweatpants riding low on his hips. He’d swapped his shirt for a tank top, and the sharp lines of his collarbone and shoulders caught my attention for a second too long.

“Finally decided to join us, huh?” Chan teased, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

I sank down between them, their bodies close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off them.

“Sorry, I wasn’t much help earlier,” I murmured, picking at the hem of my sweater.

Hyunjin waved it off, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Don’t worry about it. But... you okay? You seemed distracted.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, glancing between them. The weight of their gazes felt different tonight—intense and questioning, like they were trying to read me.

Chan leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch behind me, his fingertips brushing my shoulder as his thumb started absentmindedly tracing small circles against my sweater.

“Sure doesn’t seem like it,” Hyunjin added, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His hair, still slightly damp from a shower, fell into his eyes as he tilted his head to look at me.

My cheeks burned. “I guess I’m just tired.”

“Tired, huh?” Chan’s voice was teasing, but his hand dropped lower, grazing my upper arm now. “Or did Felix say something?”

I froze, my pulse quickening. “Why would you think that?”

Hyunjin sat back, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “You tell us. He had you alone for a while, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t say anything,” I rushed out, but my voice betrayed me, shaky and uncertain.

Chan’s hand stilled against my arm, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. “Liar,” he said softly, but there was no malice in his tone—only curiosity.

Hyunjin leaned closer, his knee brushing against mine. “If something’s on your mind, you can tell us, you know.” His voice was low, smooth, and impossibly distracting.

I could feel the tension thickening in the room, their presence overwhelming. Chan’s touch lingered, Hyunjin’s closeness making it hard to think straight. They weren’t pushing, not exactly, but the way they looked at me—like they knew I was holding something back—made it impossible to escape the weight of Felix’s words.

They’re not gay. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, one I prayed they couldn’t see.

“I think…” I started, my voice quieter than I intended, “I think you two are… not what I thought you were.”

Hyunjin leaned in a little, and I could feel the weight of his gaze as it bore into me. “What do you mean?” His voice was still low, that calm authority I’d come to recognize from him.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet their eyes. My chest tightened, heart pounding in my ears. “I thought… I thought you guys were just… you know, gay.” The words rushed out before I could stop them, leaving me exposed.

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy, suffocating. Chan’s gaze flickered to Hyunjin for just a moment, his expression unreadable, before it landed back on me. He spoke, his voice low but steady. “Is that really what you think?” His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was searching for something.

“Yeah,” I blurted out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “I’ve seen the way you two act around each other, and… I figured I, or any girl, must’ve been the last thing on your mind.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened, the intensity of his usual gaze replaced by something else. He glanced at Chan again, who responded with a slight twitch of his lips—barely noticeable, but enough to make me feel like I’d just said something monumental.

“That’s what Felix told you, huh?” Hyunjin’s voice was calm, like he was probing for more. “What else did he say?”

I felt my voice tremble as I tried to process what was happening. “He said… you weren’t gay. And that… you were both into me”

The room was quiet for a moment, thick with anticipation. Hyunjin’s lips parted, and this time, he did speak. His voice was low, smooth, and tantalizingly close as he leaned in just enough for me to feel his breath ghosting across my skin, I had to let out a sharp exhale.

“Felix was right,” he said, his words slow, almost deliberate. “But I think he missed a few details.”

Chan didn’t move, his hand still resting on my arm. His gaze flickered down to my lips for a brief moment before meeting my eyes again, that made my breath catch.

“You’re not wrong,” he said softly, his voice low and deliberate. “But maybe you’re looking at us the wrong way.”

Before I could respond, Hyunjin’s hand brushed against my thigh, light but deliberate, sending a jolt of heat through me. “You think we don’t notice how you look at us?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, almost a whisper. “How you press your pretty thighs together every time we get close?”

I couldn’t speak. The silence between us was thick with tension, the heat from their bodies so close to mine almost suffocating, but I couldn’t pull away. Not when their eyes were on me like that, not when their words were making everything inside me ache with anticipation.

Chan smiled, but it was different this time. There was no teasing, no joking. It was raw, and real, and it made my heart race even faster. “You thought we didn’t notice, didn’t you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “But we’ve just been waiting for you to say something.”

 The silence stretched, heavy and electric. My breath caught in my throat as Chan's gaze dropped to my lips, his fingers still brushing against my cheek. I didn’t move, couldn’t move, pinned by the sheer intensity of his eyes.

“Can I?” Chan asked softly, his voice rougher now.

I nodded, barely able to form a coherent thought.

And then his lips were on mine—warm, soft, and so much gentler than I expected. The kiss sent a jolt through my entire body. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his touch firm but careful, as if testing the boundaries.

Before I could even process the sensation, I felt Hyunjin move. His hand left my thigh, but only so he could tilt my face toward him, his fingers light under my chin. My lips barely parted from Chan’s when Hyunjin leaned in, claiming my mouth with a kiss that was deeper, more urgent, but just as intoxicating.

My heart pounded against my ribcage, every nerve ending on fire. They moved with practiced ease, like this was something they’d thought about—planned, even. Chan’s hand stayed at the nape of my neck while Hyunjin’s fingers traced the curve of my jaw, grounding me in the surreal, overwhelming moment.

When they finally pulled back, I was left breathless, caught between them, my head spinning.

“You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for this,” Chan murmured, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting lightly against mine.

Hyunjin smirked, his thumb grazing the corner of my lips. “And we’re just getting started.”

The tension in the room was heavy, and then suddenly, it snapped. Hyunjin stood abruptly, his dark eyes flashing with something unreadable. Without a word, he walked out, heading toward his room.

Chan lingered for a moment, his gaze flicking back to me as I sat there, frozen and flustered. His lips twitched into the faintest smirk, the kind that made my stomach flip.

“feel free to join,” he said simply, his voice low and smooth, before turning to follow Hyunjin.

My breath hitched, my heart racing as I sat there for what felt like an eternity, debating whether or not to move. The warmth of their touches, their words, lingered on my skin, pulling me out of my daze.

I stood on shaky legs, hesitating for only a second before following them down the dimly lit hallway. The air felt charged with anticipation, every step amplifying the pounding in my chest.

When I reached Hyunjin’s room, the door was ajar, and the sight that greeted me knocked the air out of my lungs. Hyunjin was already sprawled on his bed, shirtless, the soft light casting shadows over the sharp lines of his chest and arms. His gaze was fixed on me, intense and unwavering, his dark hair falling messily across his forehead.

Chan leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not going to stand there all night, are you?” he teased, his voice a mixture of warmth and challenge.

I swallowed hard, stepping inside, my movements hesitant but drawn by a force I couldn’t fight.

Hyunjin shifted, patting the space beside him on the bed, his lips curving into a lazy grin. “Come here,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, and I felt my legs move before I could think.

Chan shut the door behind me, the soft click echoing in the quiet room as he joined us.

As I crossed the room, my steps unsteady, Hyunjin’s gaze never left mine. When I reached the bed, his hand stretched out, fingers brushing lightly against mine before he tugged me closer.

“Sit,” he murmured, his voice deep and low, and I obeyed, settling on the edge of the bed. The warmth of his skin seemed to radiate toward me, and the proximity made my heart pound harder.

Chan moved to stand nearby, his presence commanding as always. His shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin that distracted me for just a moment too long. He noticed, of course, because Chan noticed everything, and the small smirk tugging at his lips told me he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Hyunjin,” Chan said casually, his tone laced with amusement, “I think you’re making her nervous.”

Hyunjin’s hand trailed deliberately under the hem of my skirt, the warm press of his fingertips against my thigh making my breath hitch. His touch wasn’t rushed; it was languid, teasing.

“Am I?” he murmured, his voice low and muffled as he buried his face into the curve of my neck. The warmth of his breath and the slight scrape of his nose against my skin sent a shiver down my spine. My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch despite the overwhelming heat flooding my chest.

“Hyunjin,” Chan said again, though this time there was a warning in his tone, his amusement still evident. He stepped closer, standing beside the bed where I sat perched on the edge, barely holding myself together.

Hyunjin only chuckled against my neck, his lips grazing my skin briefly as his fingers traced small circles against my inner thigh. “What? She doesn’t seem to mind.” His voice was pure velvet, laced with mischief.

my eyes darted to Chan, his steady gaze locking with mine. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at me, something that made my stomach tighten. Without a word, he reached out, tilting my chin so I was forced to hold his gaze.

“Is that true?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing against my jaw. “You don’t mind?”

“I…” My words faltered, a soft moan slipping out before I could stop it. Hyunjin’s lips had found the sensitive spot just below my ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin in a way that sent a jolt of heat straight through me. The combination of his warm breath and the light nip made my head tilt involuntarily, giving him more access.

“Hmm,” Hyunjin hummed against my neck, the vibration of his voice making my breath hitch.

Chan’s hand on my face tightened slightly, drawing my attention back to him. His dark eyes searched mine, his thumb brushing over my cheek as if to steady me—or maybe to steady himself. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, and I obeyed, despite the chaos Hyunjin was causing on my neck.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I shook my head, though the flutter in my chest betrayed the truth.

Chan stepped closer, towering over me as he leaned down, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “use your words princess,” he said softly, his voice dropping an octave.

Uncomfortable? That was the last thing I felt.

“You’re not,” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible, and Hyunjin’s fingers squeezed my thigh just slightly in response.

Chan chuckled, the sound low and rich as he took a seat beside me. Now I was between them, their warmth encasing me, their attention so focused that it felt like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“You’re shaking,” Hyunjin observed, his tone softer now, a stark contrast to the heat in his eyes.

“I’m not—” I started, but the slight quiver in my voice betrayed me again.

Chan leaned in closer, his hand joining Hyunjin’s on my other thigh. “really?,” he said gently, his touch steadying me even as it sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.

Hyunjin captured my lips in his with a fervor that made my breath hitch, his hand tightening on my waist as he pulled me flush against him. The kiss was hungry, every movement sending sparks through my body as his fingers trailed along my side.

Before I could process it, Chan was there too, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw as his lips found the curve of my neck. He moved slowly, deliberately, his breath hot against my skin as he kissed a path to my collarbone.

Hyunjin’s hands roamed, one gripping my thigh while the other cradled the back of my neck, angling my head so he could deepen the kiss. Chan’s hand brushed over Hyunjin’s on my leg, their touches overlapping, leaving me trembling under their attention.

“Perfect,” Chan murmured against my neck, his voice low and full of approval as he pulled back just enough to look at me. “You’re perfect.”

Hyunjin’s lips left mine, his dark eyes meeting Chan’s for a brief, heated exchange before he leaned in close; his teeth grazed the shell of my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Chan’s lips were on mine then, softer but no less intense, his hand slipping beneath my sweater to rest on my breasts, his thumb brushing my nipples. Every touch, every kiss, felt like I was being unraveled piece by piece, leaving me entirely at their mercy.

Hyunjin’s hand slid further up my thigh, his fingers toying with the hem of my underwear as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he teased, his voice low and teasing. “Not like you at all.”

Chan chuckled softly against my lips, his hands steady as he lifted me effortlessly, setting me down in the middle of Hyunjin’s bed. The new position had my skirt riding up higher, and I could feel the intensity of their gazes as they both stood looking at me.

Hyunjin knelt in front of me, his hands spreading over my legs as he pushed them apart slightly, his gaze flicking to Chan before meeting mine. “You’re still holding back,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the inside of my thigh, the gentleness of it making me shiver.

Chan moved behind me, his hands sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him. His lips found my neck again, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my skin.

The heat between us was almost unbearable. Hyunjin’s fingers finally pushed aside my underwear and started stroking where I wanted him the most, and I let out a soft gasp as his lips followed.

Chan’s grip on my waist tightened, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Let go. Let us take care of you.”

My hands found their way into Hyunjin’s hair, tugging slightly as his mouth worked magic on me. The sound of his quiet chuckle against my skin sent a fresh wave of heat through me, and I felt Chan’s lips curve into a smile against my shoulder; as he pushed hyunjin’s hand off my clit and replaced it with his own.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—the way their touches overlapped, how their breaths mingled with mine, left me utterly undone. Hyunjin glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“Look at you,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice dripping with heat.

Chan’s free hand slid under my shirt, his fingers picking at my nipples. “She’s sensitive,” Chan murmured, almost to himself, his voice carrying a note of awe that made my heart race even faster.

My head tipped back against Chan’s shoulder, a soft moan escaping my lips as Hyunjin’s tongue and chan’s fingers were making me see heaven.

Chan’s lips pressed against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin before he soothed the spot with his tongue, leaving a burning trail of sensation in his wake.

My body arched, every nerve igniting as waves of pleasure coursed through me, sharp and all-consuming. My nails dug into Hyunjin’s scalp, and his name left my lips in a breathless cry. His grip on my hips tightened, grounding me in the overwhelming sensation as his dark eyes bore into mine, filled with pride and hunger.

“That’s it,” chan murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “cum for us princess.”

 And I did, my breath came in soft gasps, my body still trembling as the rush of pleasure faded into a warm hum.

Chan’s hand slid up to my cheek, turning my face toward him. His eyes were heavy-lidded but soft, his thumb brushing my jaw as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful like this.” He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his lips exploring mine as though he had all the time in the world.

Hyunjin pulled back finally, licking his lips like a hungry man. “Don’t think we’re done,” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. His dark eyes roamed over me, taking in the sight of me flushed and breathless. “this was just the begining.”

“lie down, baby” chan demands, as he moved from behind me.

As I did, the guys started taking off their clothes urgently. And I couldn’t help but stare; they were gorgeous and they knew it.

Chan immediately layed on top of me, trapping me between his arms, his body hovering over me, and I realised just how big he actually was, from the corner of my eye I saw hyunjin get next to me in bed his grin was sharp, his fingers brushing over my calf with deliberate slowness as he settled beside me. “You’re in for it now,” he teased, his voice dripping with heat.

Chan didn’t waste a second. His lips were on mine, his cock pressing down on me, heavy and unyielding, I needed him so bad. His kiss was hungry, claiming, and I couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped my lips as he deepened it.

Beside me, Hyunjin’s hand roamed my body, his touch electrifying against my skin. He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “You sound so sweet,” he muttered, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below my ear.

Chan pulled back slightly, just enough for me to catch my breath before he entered me without a warning, as I let out a gasp. I felt utterly full of him.

Hyunjin’s mouth followed a slow, teasing path down my neck, his fingers now splayed possessively against my tits. His tongue darted out, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and I couldn’t stop the arch of my back as the tension built between us.

Chan’s thrusts, were precise and passionate. “You drive us insane, you know that?” he growled against my lips before capturing them again.

Hyunjin chuckled low. “oh she knows exactly what she’s doing,” he murmured, his voice like silk, his touch anything but gentle as he made his intentions clear.

They weren’t taking their time anymore—they were claiming me, and I was powerless to resist.

each thrust was sending waves of pleasure through me, making my thoughts scatter. Chan’s breath was hot against my lips as he muttered, “You feel better than I ever imagined.”

Hyunjin’s hands were everywhere, his fingers tracing fire over my skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “You like this, don’t you? Both of us making you our own?” His voice was low, teasing, and it only heightened the ache pooling in my core.

I couldn’t respond, my voice caught in my throat as Chan’s pace quickened, his grip on my thighs firm and possessive. Hyunjin smirked at my lack of words, his hand cupping my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “we spent years thinking about fucking you like this, you’re ours now” he murmured before his lips captured mine in a kiss that was just as consuming as Chan’s touch.

The build was maddening, chan’s relentless rhythm pushing was me to the edge. My hands gripped his shoulders tightly, my nails digging into his skin as I felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in my core. “Chan,” I gasped, his name spilling from my lips like a plea, my body trembling beneath him.

“Let go, baby,” he murmured against my ear, his voice rough with need. “I’ve got you.”

The release hit me like a tidal wave, my body arching as pleasure flooded every nerve. My cries filled the room, and Chan followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as his own climax overtook him. He pressed his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling, his weight grounding me as I came down from the high.

Before I could fully catch my breath, I felt Hyunjin’s hand slide up my leg, his touch firm yet tantalizing. “Don’t think I’m letting you off that easily,” he said with a smirk, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. He was on me in an instant, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss that reignited the fire in my veins.

“Turn over,” he commanded softly, his voice holding an edge of authority that made me shiver. Chan shifted, moving to the side to make space as Hyunjin positioned himself behind me, his hands gripping my hips. The anticipation was electric, and when he finally pushed into me, it was slow and deliberate, drawing out a moan that left no question about how much I wanted this.

“You’re stunning like this,” Hyunjin rasped, his movements starting to quicken, each one sending fresh sparks through my body. “I’ve been dying to have you like this.”

Chan, still close, leaned down to kiss me, his hand brushing the hair from my face as Hyunjin took control. I’m drooling at this point, and my legs were shaking due to the overstimulation.

the room was filled with my moans and hyunjin’s grunts, who was trying his best to last as long as possible.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned, the pressure on his cock making him go completely insane.

Eventually, he gave up, letting himself cum at the same time as me.

"Fuck," he breathed out, pulling out of me. He layed between me and chan.

"You did well, love," hyunjin whispered, making me smile despite how tired I was.

[sysmedsaresexist]

The Giant "Is RAMCOA, now OEA, antisemitic?" Debunk

Here's the last version. This one is... wow.

So here's the thing, this has taken me way too long, so here's the format:

- A summary of my point.

- A ramble about my point written forever ago.

- All the possible talking points discussed or debunked

You can just scroll to the bottom until you see "DEBUNK" if you really want to.

I'm tired. No one has time for this bullshit. This post isn't formatted the best--that's what I get for doing this on mobile. Take it as it is, the links are all included.

The ISSTD (the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation) and the OEA (Organized and Extreme Abuse) sig (special interest group) are not rooted in antisemitism. The "facts" against the ISSTD are twisted and unclear, and they aren't meant to help Jewish people or survivors. They discredit the ISSTD and the trauma basis of CDDs (complex dissociative disorders).

The Satanic Temple (TST) and Grey Faction (GF) aren't just protesting medical malpractice.

They believe that the DID diagnosis is the malpractice.

They believe that CDDs are a fad created by and from the panic of the 80s, that it's PURELY iatrogenic in nature (caused by therapists, iatrogenic is a specific arm of the fantasy theory) and therefore any proof that DID exists and is rooted in trauma is seen as some kind of direct insult to them. As if DID being real means that Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) must be real, and SRA has always been, and always will be, an attack on TST.

They believe that SRA and Ritual Abuse (RA) are one in the same (good thing the ISSTD renamed it :) ), and that SRA cannot be separated from other conspiracy theories like MKUltra.

TST be like:

Alt text: a meme photo from The Office saying "They're the same picture".

The rumors and claims that you see talked about primarily come directly from a letter by The Satanic Temple and Grey Faction, written in 2019 to try to have the ISSTD's Continuing Education certification revoked. This is where the resurgence starts and what got lights on all this.

They (that is, TST and GF) seem to believe that this letter played a part in the name change, claiming that it scared the ISSTD.

For some reason, the CE certification thing seems to really stand out to GF and TST, and they can't quite keep their story straight about what the issue is-- whether CE Learning refused to accredit any courses on "mind control" (they didn't, the ISSTD created their own system for CEs and stopped hosting on CE Learning), or whether it's just because they're attacking a therapist who gave a mother -- that would go on to kill her son -- some resources, and decided that meant she should never practice ever again (because they're angry that the ISSTD implied that they're using the tragic case for their own gain, the drama between these two groups ffs).

The letter, the name change, the rise of QANON, and finally, the resignation of GF leadership, would result in what we're seeing today.

Grey Faction and the TST are the root of every over-exaggerated rumor you hear, and this post intends to prove that.

It's not so much about debunking every claim -- because yes, bad things happened to a lot of people during the panic -- so much as an attempt to arm you with more information about the topic or situation. That way, you can make your own decision about whether the claims hold up to scrutiny and support a narrative of antisemitism and conspiracy within the ISSTD, or whether TST and GF continue to push their own agenda and the same dozen lies from over 3 decades ago during a time of societal uncertainty.

Not everything you read is accurate and true, and this entire situation highlights the need for media literacy and investigation.

So let's go.

Summary:

So, all of these talking points can be DIRECTLY linked back to GF/False Memory Syndrome Foundation (FMSF), and them alone, they're the origin.

You can't spout those points and say, "But don't trust Grey Faction."

Those are the things you can't trust about Grey Faction.

You can't say that they're right about, and the source of, all of these things, but wrong about implanted memories, because ALL of their content is a story that leads UP to the existence of false and implanted memories, in support of TST and discrediting their relationship to the panic.

There's no other conclusion.

They only care about putting the TST in a better light, even if that hurts survivors.

And we know they don't care about Jewish people, because the TST is openly antisemitic.

The below is a direct quote from Lucien Greaves, massive TW for antisemitism:

Like, I think it’s okay to hate Jews if you hate them because they’re Jewish and they wear a stupid fuckin’ frisbie on their head [correct term: yarmulke or kippah] and walk around [and] think their God’s chosen people, but it’s not okay to hate somebody [‘born of Jewish blood’] just because their parents were stupid fuckin’ Jews and wore stupid frisbies on their head and thought the Jews were God’s chosen people […] Not everybody of Jewish blood is okay with me, it depends on if they follow the Jewish, uh… […] Satanic Jews are fine.

My ramble:

You don't get to pick and choose what to believe when it comes to Grey Faction. If their claims about the ISSTD being the instigators and maintainers of the satanic panic is true, then they must ALSO be correct about false memories.

They can't be a trustworthy source for some things and not for others, because these concepts are intertwined completely.

False memories and the idea that the ISSTD is filled with conspiracy theorists that still believe in SRA go hand in hand. Iatrogenesis, implanted memories, hypnosis, and coercion. They believe all memories recovered in therapy are false. The recently dissolved FMSF focused on all forms of abuse, getting involved in murder cases (testifying on the side of perpetrators to discredit witnesses and victims by proving that memory is unreliable), rape cases, and of course, incest cases (I tried to find a good link to put here, just google Elizabeth Loftus testifies). TST and GF are solely focused on DID and the ISSTD, but the idea is the same.

According to GF, memories of abuse, especially ANY form ritual abuse, are fake and implanted, and anyone who supports recovered memories are SRA conspiracy theorists, AND THE TST DOES NOT DO THE SRA. They are very, very adamant about this.

Do you see how this works now?

They are also the source of the claim that the ISSTD and RAMCOA are antisemitic, despite being antisemitic themselves.

No, seriously.

On the Psychological Projection of Antisemitism by Satanists

Doug Mesner (Lucien Greaves, Satanic Temple) Anti-Semitic Rant

I highly suggest giving this a read if you want to know more.

I contend that GF and TST are antisemitic (see above) and trying to shift attention, and are keeping the panic alive on their own (see below)

I'm going to elaborate with a disjointed ramble

Grey Faction can't be trusted because everything they do and say has the ultimate end goal of proving therapists implant memories of abuse in their clients. See my last post about SRA and the memory wars.

Like, if Grey Faction is correct about all their assertions about the ISSTD and its members, then they must ALSO be correct about false memories, because those ideas are completely intertwined

Alt text: A gif from Ralph Breaks the Internet with Ralph saying, "One cannot exist without the other."

And yet, the same people telling you that RAMCOA, now OEA, is antisemitic will also tell you not to trust Grey Faction and that they're not a reliable source

Alt text: A screenshot from a reblog, stating, "reminder that the Grey Faction sucks." For context, Morlock has been posting that RAMCOA/OEA is antisemitic.

Which is it?

We know, for a fact, that "false memories", as presented by Grey Faction and the False Memory Syndrome Foundation, are not nearly as black and white as they would have you believe. This article is going to be a fantastic starting point to understand what exactly FMSF, TST, and GF are arguing about memories, and the ISSTD counterarguments. It's a very long read, but well worth it.

Recovered memory therapy is the hot topic here. Grey Faction would have you believe that the ISSTD still practices this therapy to this very day.

Alt text: A gif from Are You Afraid of the Dark. A teen throws powder into the fire, setting the scene for a spooky story.

They don't.

Grey Faction's proof FOR false memories is the ALLEGED and SUPPOSED behaviour and words of the ISSTD members under fire.

Despite the numerous allegations of TST and GF misquoting and twisting quotes. You'll see this later.

These are the same stories people are repeating now, in support of the relation between RAMCOA, now OEA, and the satanic panic, and therefore antisemitism.

Lucian Greaves was literally told at one point that medical malpractice can be fought without attempting to discredit DID and his response was basically, "How?"

Hopefully this link works (you'll need to be logged in to see), but if it doesn't, search Lucien Greaves' interactions with TheRingsSystem on Twitter for a truly enlightening experience on how this motherfucker interacts with the world.

DOES NO ONE ELSE SEE THE PROBLEM HERE?

The Debunk

Before we start, I want to look at the type of lies and twisting that we're going to see, give you an example of what to look for. I came across this article while I was making this post.

ISSTD Exposed: A Culture of Conspiracy, Grey Faction

This is more about the ISSTD's CE credits and the name change. This line in particular caught my eye, because for once it had a link.

Numerous threads mention “Satanic ritual abuse,” usually abbreviated as “SRA.” Michael Salter, on the Board of Directors of the ISSTD, in one comment refers to “SRA” as an “insider term” that should be avoided when talking to “outsiders.”

Oh, ominous.

Given the opportunity, I'm going to look and see what really happened.

Let me paraphrase. A very awkward, potentially troll student account asks about the origin of the term mind control. She then goes on to describe how she's terrified of using this language around outsiders, as it'll destroy her credibility with its supernatural and conspiratorial background and create barriers in the conversation.

Michael Salter responds that the term originated during the Cold War along with brainwashing and is very outdated, and no, it's not received well outside of RAMC Specialist Circles. He tells her organized abuse is the better term and goes on to explain that organized abuse is a general category for sexual abuse involving multiple perpetrators, that includes practices such as ritual abuse, child exploitation material and mind control. He says, "We see a spectrum of ritualistic or controlling behaviour in organised abuse - ritual and torture is sometimes present, but often not, and it occurs in many different ways and at different levels of severity."

I speak directly with police and policy makers about the kinds of torture that we see in organised abuse, including the intentional inducement of dissociation, but I would never use the term "mind control" with non-specialists. It's associated with movies and television more than "real life". At the same time, it's a useful shorthand amongst people who specialise in RAMC and we haven't found a good substitute for it. It would be good to develop a more contemporary vocabulary I think.

This comes back.

The thread then goes on to discuss other options for terms and "soft exposure" through media being the connecting language that allows clinicians to communicate with a general audience, and bad/inaccurate representation in media and online. Another clinician responds that she agrees with Salter, explaining that she doesn't want other providers or their clients to misequate media depictions to real life.

Michael responds to her about an ongoing research project looking into the perception of the term, talks about differences around the world in the view of the terms, and discusses pedophile and other "cult-like" organized crime groups. That's about as close as we get to any mention of conspiracy theories or satanism.

They talk about whether it's better to choose terms that confront the horror of the experience, or if they try to conceal that horror with a more generalized term.

Tara Tulley, who we talk about below, makes an appearance to say that most people who contact her about RA only know SRA, and it's an incredibly inaccurate depiction of organized abuse. Tara says that she's struggling to get people to separate RA from SRA, and to change the terms they're used to.

Michael finally says:

Thanks Tara - agree that we should use the terms that people are comfortable with and understand. It's just that "insider" terms like SRA and RAMC are translating poorly to "outsiders" like law enforcement, other mental health contexts. I guess we just have to be mindful of our audience.

Remember what the complaint was. Go back. Read the actual thread from the ISSTD yourself. And then reassess.

Nothing about the ISSTD thread was inappropriate or hinted at conspiracy theories. It was actually an incredibly productive conversation for everyone involved. It really painted the picture that everyone wanted to separate old SRA ideas from the reality of organized abuse, or RA, as it was most commonly known.

In fact, it explains the exact thought process behind the usage of the terms and how they actually apply in the world. Like how its handled with police.

Because yeah, police kind of suck at handling and believing these kinds of claims.

Mostly because the TST won't let it fucking die. They won't stop equating it.

So here we are, with

Michael Salter, the conspiracy theorist.

Let's look at some of these claims directly from the horse's mouth and see where they come from.

There's now a second post, too! Exciting!

I want to start with the ONLY point I agree with.

Ritual abuse and satanic ritual abuse are inherently linked terms.

Which is why it's now called OEA.

Keep this in mind. We're arguing about something the ISSTD already addressed and fixed. RA and SRA are too closely linked for comfort. So they renamed it.

Back to that horse, though. This horse is different from other horses because this one believes that the abuse itself is real. Most don't, which is always a red flag.

This saves me from having to prove that, at least.

Starting from the top of post 1:

Alison Miller? Quack conspiracy theorist loses her license.

ISSTD Therapist Loses License Following Grey Faction Complaint

Alison Miller has turned in her license as a result of a Grey Faction complaint

Alison Miller was retired at the time of their complaint. There's no license to hand over. She hadn't practiced in years. GF claims, very boldly, that they are the reason her license is suspended, and they are the ones continuing to push this ridiculous lie.

Source: Grey Faction

George Bergen's claims against Colin Ross (and others, because Ross is not named in several of the filings).

Links to an affidavit from 1997. Bergen a member of the False Memory Syndrome Foundation. In fact, HE CREATED AND RAN THE CANADIAN MANITOBA BRANCH. And he's kind of racist against native people. Fuck that guy.

Bergen is filing the affidavits on behalf of his wife's sister, who committed suicide in 1986. There's VERY little information on his wife and the suicide, but it's important to note that his wife left him before he filed and has never retracted. He even writes about her as, "my estranged wife who has not (yet) retracted."

Just something for thought. I think there's some shit we don't know about here. Anyways, the case was tossed out. We touch on this again in the second post debunk.

The second link is... oh. Wow. Grey Faction and The Satanic Temple themselves.

Doug Mesner is one of the many names of Lucien Greaves, the antisemitic asshat mentioned above. He runs The Satanic Temple. He's also the one who posted and hosts the affidavit package. He helped Bergen write it.

It's getting kind of funny that the openly antisemitic person is accusing other people and things of being antisemitic. It's almost like a racist is attempting to divide marginalized communities into hurting each other using soulless buzzwords. How weird.

Source: FMSF

Braun and his license.

The link is to psychsearch, owned by Ken Kramer. He's wild. It's always funny to me when he comes up.

So, Braun did lose his license after the case of Patricia Burgus (not to be confused with Bergen above), but it's important to note that Burgus already claimed to have 20 personalities when she met Braun. He didn't give her MPD or implant memories.

For this, you need to use your imagination a bit. Braun and Burgus met in 86. She was his patient for 6 years, as the panic started and blew up. At the time, the purpose of the ISSTD was to quickly develop urgent treatment guidelines, which didn't yet exist. These doctors were flying by the seat of their pants. Yes, mistakes were made, but the ISSTD has always acknowledged that. These were unprecedented events, and no one knew what to do. The ISSTD members of the time took the stance that their clients, often children, were telling the truth.

It's not implanting memories if you're asking your client to elaborate.

Please remember that we don't know what happened in all of these cases. It is, unfortunately, more likely that clients came up with these stories themselves, and were encouraged by the therapists asking for more information.

Braun was not convicted of any wrongdoing, it was a settlement case paid out by the hospital's insurance company. Braun wanted to go to trial to disclose the transcripts, where SHE makes the claims. She even said in an interview, “It fit in with everything else [Braun] told me I was saying in therapy."

Braun would then go on to lose his license again for over prescribing medication in another case.

Source: Grey faction supporters twisting truth in a case that can't be disclosed due to confidentiality

Salter and the tunnels

Let's see what Salter says (PDF)

The findings of an archaeological dig at the McMartin preschool site, which uncovered recently backfilled tunnels and ritual articles in accordance with the children’s disclosures, came too late to counter the momentum of the backlash (Summit 1994a).

It's interesting that he cited something there. Hmmmm. I can't actually find the paper but I did find a FANTASTIC summary of it. Summit references an archeology report that was released in 1993 that found evidence of tunnels, which turned out to be something else unrelated. The revelation came to light in roughly 2002.

The paper by Salter was published in 2008, long before he became involved with the ISSTD. He was likely still in school when he wrote that short piece, and he doesn't typically include it on his CVs. I wonder why.

I also want to look at this.

It's really important because it talks about how believable the surveyor's report was and why so many fell for it.

Salter has never spoken of the tunnels again. We talk about Salter again in post 2.

Source: Grey Faction twisting truth for two decades

Tara Tulley?

What's linked is a consent agreement between Tulley and the board of licensing, hosted on the TST website. Much like Braun, this is a case of the board and licensee agreeing not to go to trial. Within the agreement, Tulley disputes the facts against her but understands that this is a quicker resolution for all parties.

The main issue actually seems to be her application for renewal not being filled out correctly, and Tulley explains that she didn't realize the investigation was active at that point.

But yeah, I'll admit, Tulley is a weird one. Very weird.

Source: Does Grey Faction have nothing better to do?

George Greaves?

I can't get this link to work. He was only ever a member of the ISSTD for a single year around 85 or 87. He was more involved in Ridgeview than the ISSTD. He lost his license in 94 and never really surfaced again. Why are we talking about him? Are we trying to say the ISSTD is terrible because of very short run-ins with shitty people?

Source: Grey Faction sure does like talking about him considering how long ago that was and how little he was involved.

Francois Saculla?

WAS NEVER INVOLVED IN THE ISSTD, YOU FOOLS. He attended the APA's MPD workshop in 79. Ohhhhh, scary. Get it right.

Source: the horse only

Eileen Avani?

In the linked consent order (again, like Braun), Avani doesn't admit fault, and the board actually accepts her explanation and proof that she wasn't actually offering services or treating the roommate.

It's frustrating, because this document doesn't actually talk about Avani not reporting trafficking or anything. I can't actually find any information on that. Where did the horse get those claims?

I'm genuinely asking, because even Grey Faction doesn't make that claim. I feel like people are just playing broken telephone with links.

Avani was assisting someone who had been trafficked in childhood. There was no duty to report, and she was passing the client along to and assisting another treatment provider.

And that's post 1.

I HIGHLY urge you to google each of the above names followed by ISSTD, and just take a glance at what comes up.

(Spoiler: it's ALWAYS Grey Faction, you'll be hard pressed to find anything that isn't directly GF, or citing them in their own article)

Jfc, okay, post 2, which is from the horse's friend.

This one is so much longer and annoying.

To start, again, the ISSTD came together to handle the surge in cases, seek support from other clinicians, and to develop treatment guidelines. The panic started BEFORE the ISSTD. The Chicago clinic opened to take the huge numbers of people claiming to have MPD, amid the growing satanic panic. The ISSTD didn't come into existence and then all these cases appeared. Patients from across the WORLD, already claiming to have MPD and memories of SRA, were being referred to the newly opened clinic, created to TAKE THIS SURGE IN PATIENTS.

The panic started in 1980, after Michelle Remembers was released, and the ISSTD formed in 84, not 83 as stated by the horse's bff.

But where did we get 83? From Richard Noll, star child of the FMSF. I talk more about him further down.

Spiegel, Kluft, Braun and Miller all responded to this article, calling it inaccurate, but because the article keeps getting posted and pulled, it's hard to find originals.

So did Frances, and we all hate him.

There are so many claims in this post that are uncited, and by the time you finish the articles, you forget what you were fact checking. I don't know where the claims about SRA in the DSM come from, because it's not in the article linked.

I mean, the link even goes so far as to speak positively of Braun and his changing mindset.

Many psychotherapists who have been vocal about a supposed epidemic of sexual abuse by well-organized satanic rings have grown more cautious of late. "There's clearly been a contagion, a contamination of what people say in therapy because of what they see on TV or read about satanic ritual abuse," said Dr. Bennet Braun, a psychiatrist who heads the Dissociative Disorders Unit at Rush-North Shore Medical Center in Chicago.

This would imply that Braun got better about all this over the years. If that's the case, why are we still saying he believes all that?

I'm starting to get the feeling that no one is reading their own links

But that's Braun, what about Colin Ross?

Ross was never found guilty or convicted of malpractice, as the horse's friend claims.

Ross has been named in several suits, but never convicted. Ross is the most vocal about what a confusing time this was, how hard it was to tell fact from fiction, and how hard it was to balance dis/belief with neutrality.

And of course, we link directly to Grey Faction about the eye beams. You might be surprised to learn that Ross has a sense of humor and entered a paranormal contest. It's really not that fucking deep, people.

More about Alison Miller, who says that Grey Faction is twisting the truth.

I don't know why they threw in Neil Brick without a single citation. Oh, wait, yes I do. Their only source is Grey Faction, and Brick talking about his experiences. Like fakeclaiming.

Michael Salter, this time they admit only Grey Faction is talking about it and there's no other sources. See above.

I'm not commenting a single Wikipedia link, and these people should be ashamed for including them.

Tara Tulley, see above, no she wasn't.

George Greaves, see above.

This is so repetitive, they all say the same fucking things, and it's all wrong and skewed the same way.

The way Grey Faction wants to present it.

The wording of the next paragraph is SO telling.

The ISSTD has annual conferences, each being either recorded or documented, several of these being notably controversial. In 1988 they aimed to verify cannibalistic satanic cults who participate in human, specifically child, sacrifices, this was investigated and then debunked by the FBI.

Almost like, they talked about something to get more information on it, and got that information.

How dare they.

From 1990 to 1998 ISSTD conference guest panelists had been accused of being Satanists if they portrayed any skepticism towards the connection between DID and SRA; this is documented in several instances. (No link, An Interview with Frank Putnam, Part II." ISSTD News)

Are you saying you couldn't find a link to support you? Or are you saying that you couldn't find an interview with Putnam II? There you go. I highly suggest actually reading this to see what he ACTUALLY says. This is the line that got me. "I was accused of disrespecting victims." I think these arguments are being framed way more negatively than they should be. I don't think this was about upholding SRA conspiracy theories, so much as balancing skepticism when faced with patients' claims. It ignores that Putnam HIMSELF was called a satanist.

Clearly not everyone within the ISSTD held the same beliefs, so I'm not sure what people are hoping to prove here.

The horse's friend then goes on to link to the TST, saying the only source of the claim is Grey Faction, and it's just the TST talking about a Grey Faction letter.

TST owns Grey Faction. Never forget that.

NONE OF THESE LINKS ON THE TST SITE WORK, I'M GETTING SO FRUSTRATED

We're linked to a letter by Evan Anderson, Grey Faction leadership that would resign in 2024 because of how much the TST was inserting themselves in Grey Faction and trying to control their actions. With Anderson gone, Greaves is now in charge.

Anderson said,

I ignored a lot for the sake of the campaign. I no longer can. I can recognize a witch hunt, a budding culture of paranoia and conspiracism.

Hmmmm, interesting timing.

Already we should be calling bullshit, just because of how stupidly hard it is to find ANYONE other than Grey Faction talking about it.

The horse's friend then goes on to incorrectly state that the FMSF started because of the ISSTD, which is wrong. The future members of the FMSF were pushing false memories in the 70s. Read this post. (This is where you can find more information on Noll's associations with and support of TST.) Their claims exist outside of SRA. They want to discredit ALL survivors.

Then they finally go on to say that they tried not to use only Grey Faction as their source, but did they achieve that?

FUCK NO.

Every single reason cited for why RAMCOA, now OEA, is antisemitic, and for conspiracies existing within the ISSTD comes directly from Grey Faction, and happened DECADES AGO.

But don't trust Grey Faction.

WHICH IS IT, THEY CAN'T BOTH BE TRUE

Do you have any idea how many members are part of the RAMCOA/OEA sig? And we keep talking about the same 6 or so people, and theories and thoughts from over 40 years ago that those people DON'T ACTUALLY STILL BELIEVE. I think this post by TST might put the TST's and GF's goal best.

According to The Satanic Temple’s spokesperson, Lucien Greaves, “We are very happy that the board moved to revoke the license of Tara Tulley, but Tara Tulley is only one member of the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation, an organization largely comprised of mental health professionals who subscribe to bizarre and harmful conspiracy theories that some of them impose onto their clients, burdening the mentally vulnerable with crippling, fearful delusions, and propagating destructive QAnon-like paranoia. It is our position that the mental health profession should do more to rid itself of this embarrassment and ensure that those licensed in the field adhere to empirically-supported clinical practices. It is our position that the ISSTD should lose all professional standing, and they should not be allowed to administer Continuing Education Units to professionals who attend their conspiracist lectures.”

The OEA sig is one of 12 that the ISSTD runs. In 2022, there were only 29 members of the OEA sig, and it by no means includes all of the members of the ISSTD that work outside of OEA. Other sigs include acute care, child and adolescent, creative art therapies, eating disorders, neurodevelopmental disabilities, EDMR, and vicarious trauma.

None of that matters, though. The TST and GF want to see the ENTIRE ISSTD burned to the ground.

The timing of this surge in RAMCOA talk coincides with the TST/Grey Faction rift, as Greaves and his chronic online-ness took over.

And what is Greaves? A racist, a man whose sole goal is to silence survivors, and an ISSTD hater.

Knowing a good deal more about the situations above, go back to that original letter and reread the complaints.

[silvergyus]

hii!! hope ur doing great!!

i was going to ask for some fluffy hueningkai smut for the valentines day event :)) i need more fics about him being infatuated w chubby women?

lessons in chemistry

pairing: hueningkai x fem!reader

summary: kai has been harboring a not-so-secret crush on his study buddy all year. what will happen when he gets an unexpected text asking if you can stay the night?

warnings: college au, friends to lovers, only one bed trope, reader is a few years older than kai ("noona" is not used), kai is a lil pervy, chubby!reader, reader's pubes are mentioned exactly once, experienced!reader, a teeeeny bit of dubcon (just over the clothes teasing), fingering (y/n receiving), protected sex

word count: 5,200+

author’s note: requested as part of my valentine's event 🏹💘 tysm for requesting!! I got a lil obsessed with this one and I really hope you like it!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊

Kai had been infatuated with you since the start of last semester. The two of you sat near one another for a large science lecture. It was a gen-ed filler class for the both of you that you were just trying to get out of the way. Kai was a first year music major and you had just switched majors from fine arts to liberal arts and suddenly found yourself in need of a few more required science credits.

He fell in love with you the first moment he saw you, sitting down a row ahead of him in the dim lecture hall, the low light illuminating your features. Twice a week for three weeks he admired you fondly from his unofficial assigned seat. His notes were often lacking- sentences missing from the slides that he forgot to copy down while lost in the thought of you instead. You were the highlight of the dull class for him. He’d never forget the way his heart almost leaped out of his chest when you finally turned around to smile at him. Your smile was warm and inviting as you asked him to be your partner for an assignment. He’d never been particularly suave, but the stumbling, stuttered “yes, of course” he replied with was enough to make him want to curl up in a ball. But you just giggled, your laugh like music, accepting it in stride.

From that day on he was your study buddy, never missing a library date. The two of you worked on assignments together, studied for exams and shared snacks late into the night.

You grew close over the course of the semester, inside jokes blossoming between the two of you. You were older, more organized than he was. You knew your way around campus and the city and you were eager to offer your advice. You laughed at his jokes and loved to hear the recordings he made of his guitar and piano playing. As friendship grew between the two of you, so did his feelings for you.

Anxiety swirled in his head as winter finals approached, unsure of whether or not you’d be in the same lab section as him in the spring. He worried that if you weren’t, he’d lose his chance to talk to you. When you told him your schedule- classes aligning perfectly with his- he almost hugged you then. Relief flooded his chest, thankful for the chance to see you twice a week for an additional four months.

His friends had caught on to the fact that he was crushing on someone; they saw the way his eyes lit up when certain notifications flashed on his screen. They had been nudging him to invite you to study at the dorm, even promised to clean it so he wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring you by. But you lived off campus in your own apartment. Why would you ever want to hang out in his shared dormitory? No, he’d just keep doing what he was doing: being your cute and reliable study buddy.

----

You knew Kai had a crush on you.

It was obvious in the way he texted you back immediately, even when you knew he’d swipe away notifications for the rest of his friends. Obvious in the way he shifted in his seat if you leaned over his shoulder to look at his notes. Obvious in the way he practically vibrated out of the chair the first time you decided to sit next to him in the lecture hall instead of a row ahead. He always brought your favorite snacks and packed your favorite drinks when you met up for study sessions. You couldn’t remember telling him what your favorites were either, he just paid attention like that.

You didn’t mind, in fact, you liked having the cute boy’s attention. Kai was tall and broad and dorky and shy, but you had gotten him to open up to you, bloom like a flower into sharing his silly and passionate self. Kai was a good friend and a bit of an ego boost as well. Here was this tall boy with sharp cheekbones who cared about your thoughts and opinions. So, so what if you caught him staring down your shirt when he was supposed to be copying your notes? It's not like you hadn't stared at his ass in his jeans more than a few times.

And truth be told, you really did need him as a study buddy.

----

The cool of winter was slipping away to spring, first flowers peaking their heads out of the damp earth. Kai was losing his mind.

His friends had figured out more about you and the extent of his devastating crush and were making bets on how he would fumble you. Beomgyu had struck a particularly sensitive nerve with the simplicity of his bet: that Kai would just never get the nerve to ask you out for more than a library study session. It was stupid and it wouldn’t normally piss him off, but he was scared that they were right. He didn’t want to miss his chance with you.

You had become really important to him over the course of the school year and he couldn’t stand the thought of you just being a class friend, someone he lost after finals ended. He already experienced that anxiety when he worried about your spring schedule, but had lucked out despite his inaction. He wasn’t sure what he’d do now that the end of the school year was approaching.

----

The soft patter of rain filled the spaces in between notes as Kai worked on his piano final composition. He knew how the piece started, and how it ended, but he struggled to find the perfect rhythm to pull it together. He had been locked in his room for hours, long fingers dancing over the keys again and again, trying out new arrangements and then scrapping them when they weren’t right.

Nothing was right. Dejected, he pushed his chair away from his keyboard, pulling off his headphones and huffing as he reached for his phone, needing a distraction. He frowned when he saw two missed calls from you and a string of worried texts.

Hey soooo….

I left my bag in my ta’s office and I they won’t answer any of my emails and I don’t have their number

and my keys were in my bag….

and now I can’t get in my apartment 😅

and all my other friends are out of town..

can I please stay with you?

Kai called you immediately. You picked up on the second ring.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Kai! Oh my gosh you called me back! Thank you so much, I wasn’t sure-”

“You can stay here.” He said quickly.

“You mean it?”

“Yes.” He was organizing his room as you spoke, throwing dirty clothes in the hamper and wrapping up charging cables. “Do you know which building I’m in?”

“I think so. I’m actually not too far away.”

Kai could hear the rain as you spoke, muffling your voice. “Oh gosh, do you have an umbrella?”

You laughed sarcastically. “Haha, no, but I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you come down to let me in?”

“Yes, yes I’ll be there. Do you need me to stay on the phone?”

“No, uh, it’s actually getting kinda really wet. I’ll just meet you in the lobby.”

“Okay, stay safe. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

You hung up and Kai immediately ran to his roommates to fill them in.

----

You were soaked head to toe when you walked into the small lobby of Kai's dorm building. He was nervously shifting his weight between his feet as he waited for you to arrive. His voice was laced with worry when he ran over to you, asking how you were doing the second you walked through the double doors. His worry was cute. You liked how much he cared.

“I’m okay, just cold.”

The elevator ride up to the dorm Kai shared with Taehyun and Beomgyu was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the patter of droplets falling from your clothes onto the floor. You hadn’t met either of his roommates yet, but you’d heard stories. You weren’t sure if you’d meet either of them tonight either, but all you really wanted to do was change out of your soaked clothes and go to bed.

Kai apologized for things being messy before opening the door, but he had no need. The small shared space was cleaner than expected for three college-aged boys. Each had their own room and then a shared kitchen and bathroom. You followed Kai to his narrow bedroom.

His standard-issue twin xl was filled with plushies, a grey bunny which was clearly the oldest and most well-loved sat in a place of honor in the very front. It made you smile, this display of softness. Beside the bed was his desk and keyboard just beyond that. The space was cozy with the low light of a singular bedside lamp.

You turned around to face the room’s owner where he stood in the doorway, suddenly awkward in his own space. “Cute room. I like your plushies.”

Red blush immediately tinged his ears. His eyes fell to the floor as he awkwardly laughed. “Haha, yeah um, I can move those.”

“You don’t have to.” The silence between you was still charged from the elevator, but you could barely focus on it with the way the cold rain had settled into your bones. “Um, is it okay if I take a shower? I’m freezing.”

“Oh! Uh, yeah- of course! I have an extra towel. Do you need clothes?” He began to rifle through his drawers. “I think mine will fit you. What do you want?” He was cute the way he looked over at you as if picturing each item in the drawers on your body.

----

Kai sat on his bed anxiously bouncing his leg as he waited for you to finish in the bathroom. He was trying his best to suppress the thought of you in the shower, water falling over your curves. He shook his head, trying and failing to shake out the thought of the river of soapy bubbles running between your breasts, trailing down over your plush tummy. But even if he shook that thought, there was still the fact that you would exit the shower and put on his clothes and then get in his bed. His head was spinning with possibilities.

His leg was bouncing fast enough for it to start to cramp by the time you walked into his room. His ears burned as he took you in. His dark pullover clung to your figure, settling at your hips. You smiled at him before turning to hang your towel on the back of his door. Oh no, he thought. He had fished an old pair of basketball shorts out of his drawer for you to sleep in since your clothes were hung precariously in the bathroom in an attempt to dry them. The fabric was stretched tight around your hips and ass, leaving little to his imagination. He stifled a groan at the sight when his hoodie rode up to show the dimples on your back as you reached up to throw the damp towel over the hook.

You looked so good in his clothes it made his head spin. He wanted to see you in his clothes all the time, wanted you to show everyone you were his. Wanted you to be his for real.

He was sure he looked like a wreck when you turned around, cocking your head to ask what he was thinking. “I um, did you- did you eat?”

“Yeah, I ate dinner before I saw my TA.” You sat down beside him on the bed. He could feel the warmth radiating off your skin from your hot shower. “Actually, um, I know it’s kind of early, but this whole thing has been really stressful and I’m just really tired.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. I’m sorry this happened to you.” He practically vibrated when you rested your head against his shoulder, not even caring if his shirt got wet.

“Not your fault.” Your voice was soft. “Thank you for letting me crash. I can’t tell you how much it means.”

“It’s no problem. I’d do anything if you asked.” Kai wasn’t sure how much he wanted you to read into that sentence.

----

The two of you talked for a bit before a big yawn prompted Kai to ask you about sleeping. He insisted that he’d sleep on the floor for you to take his bed. You argued back that you could take the floor since it was his room and just one night wouldn’t hurt you but he wouldn’t budge. You finally conceded and found yourself tucked under his covers next to his army of plushies.

The room was dark except for the dim glow of campus peeking through the blinds and the multicolor lights of his pc that lit the space with a shifting neon hue. You rolled over to peak over the edge. Kai was laying on the floor face up, hands over his chest. He was wide awake and his eyes immediately found yours. “Hey,” he whispered, “you should be sleeping.”

You couldn’t stand the fact that he was sleeping on the hard floor, shitty dorm carpet against his back and a throw blanket the only thing to keep him warm. This was his room after all. And beyond the injustice of kicking him out onto the cool floor, you didn’t want to let the opportunity to be wrapped up in his strong arms pass you by. “Can you please come up here?” You could see his eyes widen and before he had the chance to argue you used the line he couldn’t refuse. “I’m still really cold.”

He sputtered cutely, looking for words. “Are you sure?”

You kept your voice quiet as you pleaded; “Please Kai.”

He didn’t say anything as he stood up and climbed into the small bed. You moved to the far edge of the mattress, positioning yourself against the wall. You wondered how he slept comfortably here each night, his large frame filled up most of the narrow space, and you doubted that his feet weren’t hanging off the edge. With your body taking up space too, there was no way for the two of you to not touch.

Kai was shy with his actions, reverting back to the unsure boy you met at the beginning of the school year. “Um, uh- is this okay?” He asked as he gingerly settled his arm across your waist.

“Yes, perfect.” You backed up to snuggle into his broad chest. Heat radiated off of him, warming you instantly. “Mmmm, you’re so warm.”

----

Your body fit against Kai's like his matching puzzle piece. His arm slotted perfectly in the space between your tummy and chest. He felt like he was made to hold you just like this. This moment was perfect, everything he could've asked for after pining after you for months. He could breathe in the scent of your skin and hair, still slightly damp from the rain and shower. Here you were, in his clothes, in his bed, in his arms. He was on cloud nine. Everything was perfect.

Except for the fact that you kept wriggling your hips against him.

You had to be doing it on purpose. As far as he could tell you were sleeping, but the subtle movements of your ass against his front were driving him crazy. He had backed his hips up as far as he could given the narrow twin bed, but yours had followed. He prayed that you were asleep and wouldn't notice his half-hard dick pressed up against you.

He thought he was in the clear, your hips had slowed and he thought he'd make it through the night without embarrassing himself. He could do this- sleep with you in his arms then get up and jerk off in the morning before you woke up and it would be like nothing happened, like he wasn't cuddled up next to you thinking about how his hand was so, so close to your chest and your ass was so warm against him. He'd savor this moment for what it was and then make his move later. But then you spoke.

“Kai,” your whisper pierced through his thoughts like a hot knife, “are you hard for me?”

His mind blanked. Fuck, he was really in it now.

“It's okay if you are.” Your hand found his, drawing gentle circles on his palm. You continued playing with his fingers as the silence stretched, charged and electric between you. Kai didn't breathe, hanging on for what would happen next. “You know, I've seen the way you look at me.” You wiggled your hips again, slow and deliberate. “Saw the way you blushed when I came in here with your clothes on.”

It felt like Kai was on fire. His body blushed and he could feel the blood rushing to his cock. He felt guilty, caught in the act. “I know you have a crush on me Kai.”

He wanted to protest, began to speak a strangled “I-” but you cut him off.

“I have a little crush on you too.”

Your words knocked the air out of Kai's lungs. His head spun. You were in his bed, in his clothes, holding his hand, pressing your ass against his dick on purpose and you liked him back. He felt like he was short circuiting.

He could hear the smile in your voice when you whispered again. “You can touch me if you want.”

----

The silence stretched between you longer than you expected. Part of you worried that you had misread everything, that you had crossed a line. But after what felt like eons Kai's hand finally moved.

His fingers twitched in your grasp, fingers splaying out and holding onto your tummy over the sweatshirt. You were silent as he began to slowly move down, curiously slipping under the thick hem. You drew in a breath quickly when his fingers brushed against your skin. His fingers were slightly calloused from playing guitar, the rough pads of his fingers leaving goosebumps where they explored over your tummy.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice was low in your ear as his hand moved closer to your chest.

You stayed quiet; he ran a finger over the underside of your breast. His movements were slow, cautiously exploring your flesh. He finally reached up to cup your breast, his big hand igniting your nerves where he touched. For a moment he just held you like that, as if he was committing the feel to memory. His first squeeze was more for him than for you, but it felt damn good nonetheless. You let out a soft sigh, relishing in the feeling. He squeezed again, spurred on by your encouragement.

“What do you like?” He asked. You whispered back how you liked to be touched and he complied, rubbing and pinching at your nipples while you sighed again. You could feel him fully hard in his sweatpants behind you, the heat of his length and the teasing of your chest making you grow wet in his shorts.

“Kai,” you whined, growing impatient with his touches, wanting more. You ground your hips back against him. You could feel his cock through your shorts and it was making you desperate.

Kai stifled a groan from behind you at your neediness. His hand cautiously moved down from your breasts, pausing to squeeze the plush of your tummy as it ventured down. His fingers paused, dipping just under your waistband to gently stroke your skin there.

----

Kai gasped when he realized you weren't wearing any panties. Of course, he thought. You must've left them to dry with the rest of your clothes. He was hard before, but discovering that you were whiny and needy in his shorts without panties on made him grow impossibly harder.

He reached down, through the soft tuft of hair to find your pussy. You moaned when his fingers finally found your clit. He liked that sound, wanted to hear it again. You spread your legs a little, granting him better access to your body. He dipped his fingers through your soft folds, finding you wet for him. He couldn't help but moan as he explored your heat, coating his fingers in your wetness.

You let out a series of quiet gasps and whines as he teased you, rubbing small circles on your clit and through your folds. He found your entrance after a moment but was nervous to slip his fingers inside. Your impatient hips bucked at his hand and broke his questioning thoughts. He slowly sunk one of his slender fingers into your wet heat. You buried your face in his pillow to stifle your cry when he did. Your noises were like music to his ears and he slowly pumped the finger in and out, relishing the feeling of your walls sucking him in.

“More,” you gasped quietly, “please.”

He obliged, adding a second finger. You were keening now, rocking your hips to meet his hand as it pumped into you. The cheap bedframe squeaked softly with your movements but Kai didn't think it was anything loud enough for his roommates to hear.

You whined when he curled his fingers, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. “Kai, Kai,” you babbled, desperation dripping from your voice. You were so wet beneath his hand. “Wanna kiss you. Need to kiss you before you make me cum.”

He laughed at that. “What do you mean?” He slowed his movements when you gripped his forearm, but kept his fingers buried in your pussy.

“You're gonna make me cum, but,” your voice was shy as you continued, “I really wanna kiss you. I haven't even kissed you yet.”

Kai felt himself blush at your words. Gosh you were sweet. He smiled and kissed your cheek where he could reach from this position before removing his hand from your shorts.

You were quick to shuffle so you straddled his lap. Your clothed heat rested on his erection, which was almost painfully hard. He could just make out your features in the low light. You were so pretty, smiling down at him. He wanted to kiss you so bad. So when you leaned forward he sat up to meet you.

Your lips were soft against his, the first kiss relatively chaste as you pulled away to admire him. He basked in your gaze, loving the way you looked at him with such affection. When you kissed him again it was deeper.

----

Kai had perfect lips for kissing. He opened up to you like a flower on the second kiss. You traced his bottom lip with your tongue before he parted his lips slightly, granting you access to taste him. He moaned quietly into the kiss, hands settling around you. He brought you closer with the hand on the back of your head and gripped tightly at your ass with the hand that had been playing with your pussy just moments ago.

You shifted in his lap as his tongue explored your mouth. The change in pressure caused him to groan loudly into the quiet of his room. He broke the kiss but stayed close, whispering your name against your lips. “Please, I'm so sensitive right now.” His voice was deep and rough, held back from a full plead.

You smiled and kissed him again. “I've been teasing you for a long time haven't I?” You said, half pouting. You placed your lips right against the shell of his ear as you whispered- “you can fuck me if you want.”

His whine was stifled in his throat but you still caught it. You could feel his cock twitch beneath you at your words. Gosh, he was big. You could properly feel him now that you were straddling him. You didn't want to cum without having kissed him, but his teasing had left you needy and aching for him to fill you up again.

“Please,” was all he said before you nodded, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Wanna see you. Can I take this off?” He was happy to oblige, nodding before lifting his arms to let you undress him. You pulled his sweatshirt off you, letting him take in the sight of you in the dim light. The two of you sat like that for a moment, admiring each other. His hand reached out to trace over your skin once again, taking in your form in the low light. You did the same, running your fingers over his broad chest and wide shoulders. His hands continued to love on your tummy, more than anyone had done in the past. You found it cute, like most things about him, and appreciated that he seemed to enjoy a part of you you'd often been told to conceal.

Soon enough his hands found the hem of your- his- shorts again. You had to get off his lap to slide them off of you, your wetness clinging to the material as you did. Kai shucked off his bottoms as you did yours and you settled onto his lap again, the both of you fully naked in one another's embrace.

You could feel Kai's heartbeat racing under the hand you held to his chest. “Are you excited?” You teased.

“Y/n,” he started, “I really like you. I've liked you for a long time now. Since I first met you, I've liked you.”

You squeezed his hand, wanting to reassure him that you felt the same. “I really like you too, Kai. For a while now too.” He kissed you again. The kiss was charged with emotion, he poured his feelings into it and you reciprocated.

When the kiss broke you were both breathing hard. “You have a condom, right?” He nodded quickly, reaching to throw open the top drawer of his bedside table. Inside was a full box of unopened foils.

Sliding the condom onto Kai's length made your pussy clench around nothing. He was so big and heavy in your hand. He gasped like it hurt when you first held his cock, his angry tip a leaking mess of precum. He watched you with huge eyes as you rolled it on.

You spit onto your hand, slicking him up through the thin barrier. He couldn't stop the whine that he emitted as you stroked him.

When you finally hovered over his lap again you felt dizzy with anticipation. Kai's fingers had been long and stuffed you full, but his cock was surely going to fill you to the brim. You lined him up at your entrance and began to sink down.

His mouth fell slack when his fat tip pushed past your tight entrance. You took him inch by inch, fighting the urge to just sit on it, forcing yourself to take it slow and adjust. It felt like he was splitting you open. He was bigger than anyone you'd had before. Long and thick, he hit every spot inside of you as you finally rested on his hips, taking him to the hilt. You had to catch your breath.

----

Kai’s eyes were squeezed tight, his breaths heavy. The feeling of being inside of you better than he had imagined. You were so warm, your wet walls holding him so tight even through the latex barrier.

“Kai,” you whispered, rubbing his arm to bring him back to you. “Is this still okay?”

He opened his eyes and nodded. “Yes, yes. Just need a sec.” He was trying his hardest not to cum right there. But you were so beautiful in the shifting hues coming from his pc, the dim light illuminating your features. The moonlight from the crack in the blinds shone on your lashes as you watched him carefully.

“Okay,” he finally said, feeling like he wasn’t about to immediately cum at the slightest sensation. “I’m ready.”

You hummed and kissed him again before leaning back and slowly rolling your hips. His hands flew to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he tried to keep from moaning loudly and alerting his roommates to what was happening. You smiled down at him, speeding up a bit.

He was mesmerized by the way you looked as you rode him. He must’ve looked like a dumbstruck fool the way you giggled at his expression. “You like what you see?”

“Very much. You’re so beautiful.” Your face split into a huge smile and you kissed him again.

“I think you’re pretty beautiful too.” Kai felt himself blush at your words, not used to praise like this.

He wasn’t going to last very long, not with your sweet words and the slow drag of your walls around his cock. He moved his hands from where they rested, exploring the curves of your body, committing them to memory. He’d always had a thing for soft tummies, but your thick thighs, full breasts and even the soft creases of your back all delighted him. His touches spurred you on, your increased enthusiasm pushing him closer to the edge.

“Gonna cum.” He whined.

“Touch me here,” you guided his hand to your clit. “We’ll cum together.”

He fought through the building pressure, gathering your wetness to coat his thumb. A sigh escaped your lips when he rubbed your clit. He easily matched the pace you set with your hip, musician’s muscle memory kicking in.

“I’m so close,” his voice was strained, “gonna-”

His orgasm hit him hard. His hands squeezed hard at your hips as you rode him through his high, chasing after yours. The sounds you made when you came were music, a falling set of whimpers and stutters that washed over Kai like a wave. You slumped into Kai’s chest, aftershocks still causing your pussy to flutter and clench around him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you in a sweet embrace as you both came down from your highs.

----

You hummed contentedly into the space between Kai’s shoulder and throat. He was warm and strong and all around you. You felt safe and cozy in his arms and completely blissed out from his cock. You knew you needed to clean up but you wanted to savor this moment for as long as you could.

“Hey, y/n,” Kai’s voice was a soft whisper above you. You hummed again in acknowledgement. “Do you think maybe we could go on a date sometime?”

You laughed, burying your face into his chest. Gosh, this boy. You propped yourself up onto your elbow, taking in the beauty of Kai’s features as he looked at you expectantly. “I would love that.” His smile was immediate. “And by the way, you could have asked me at any point in the year and I would’ve said yes.”

You couldn’t quite make out the blush that spread across his cheeks in the low light, but you kissed him again to let him know you meant it. You settled back onto his chest and he placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m kind of glad I left my bag in that office now.”

You could feel Kai’s laugh through his chest. “I am too.”

author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.

taglist: @theresawtf

[florsial]

@bartylusmicrofic - Wish Also he/they and trans Regulus!

Caught up in the flow of studying, the common room opening didn’t register in Barty’s head until the sound of jewelry was being set on the table. 

Throwing himself away from the numerous notes and open books, he sees his boyfriend scowling, his brows pressed together, and his lips being bitten raw. Judging from the formal outfit, Barty could guess that Slughorn’s party didn’t go too well for his boyfriend. The heated look in his eyes was evident enough and Barty suddenly wished he had attended with Regulus.

“Still planning on attending the next one?” He asked as he closed his notebook and looked up at Regulus, accepting the fact that he probably wouldn’t be studying for the rest of the night. 

Twisting another bracelet off his wrist, Regulus replied, “I don’t know, I’ll see after I’ve cooled off.”

“You could skip the next one.”

“The meetings are good for my future,” Regulus makes a face at his own words, “I think.”

“Uh huh,” Barty hums, standing up from his seat. He doesn’t really believe that, after all, Regulus is as smart and talented as he is, and no, Barty isn’t being biased, it’s true. He’s been trying to top Regulus in their History of Magic class, but his boyfriend always manages to keep a firm grasp on the position of being the top of the class. Barty would be proud if he hadn’t been trying to beat Regulus for years, even before they had started dating.

And that is just the tip of his boyfriend’s intelligence.

He is broken from his thoughts when Regulus asks, “I need to get out of all this, can you help me?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, “let’s go.”

Truthfully speaking, Barty doesn’t understand why Regulus insists on wearing the traditional pure-blood clothing, he is pretty sure some students have turned up in less than formal wear. Also, Regulus complains often about how scratchy and tight everything is and the hair-dos. Always braided and pinned with pins that give Regulus a headache. He ought to convince his lover to tone down for the Slughorn’s parties.

When they get to their dorm, Evan is still not asleep, unsurprisingly. A single light emits from his wand, highlighting his wide eyes and unsettling expression as he reads the book of myths he always reads. He doesn’t spare them a glance as they make their way to the bathroom, but he does nod subtly without looking up.

“Hi, Ev,” Regulus greets casually as he passes by, snagging his silk pajamas from his bed.

When the bathroom door closes, Barty locks it as Regulus undoes the buttons and straps of his outfit. He leans against the door as he watches carefully and with adoration as his lover curses under their breath at the overly complex parts of their dress before fully stripping themselves from it, leaving Regulus only in the long undershirt and corset he stubbornly refuses to take off lest he becomes a hunchback like their mother fears. 

Barty tries not to make fun of him too much for that.

He walks over and takes a moment to admire the freckles sprinkled all over and a slight blush brushed over their collarbones and shoulders. As hands rest on their waist, Regulus turns around.

“Loosen the back, would you?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

In the beginning, Barty was only ever vaguely familiar with the mechanics of a corset. He remembers his mother wearing it for some time before she started getting more ill and he’s never taken an interest in wearing one, unlike his father, they were too constricting for his liking. 

It wasn’t until he and Regulus grew closer did he learned to tighten or loosen the strings for there was nothing more intimate than hearing the way Regulus’ breath evens out with every string undone by Barty. Most, if not all the time, it would only ever be just the two of them in the bathroom, late in the night. After that, Barty would press soft kisses with his hands under Regulus’ long shirt carefully running over the smooth skin. They would stay like that for an undetermined amount of time before brushing their teeth and heading to bed, and this time, it was no different.

“I’ll go with you next time,” Barty said softly, trawling the string around his finger, “I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” Regulus replies, “you’re busy, and it’s not like Slughorn is your biggest fan either.”

“Even more reasons to,” Barty grins, “and what type of boyfriend would I be if I’m not there to defend your honor? There are too many snobby and entitled members, I have to scare them off.” 

“As if anyone is good enough for Blacks,” Regulus scoffs, the air of arrogance from birth prevalent around him.

“Lucius?”

“Narcissa wanted him, not the other way around.”

“How about me?”

“You know exactly why,” is Regulus’ settled reply after a couple seconds of silence.

“Tell me again,” Barty leans down and presses his lips to their shoulder, “I want to hear it again.” He mumbles against the freckled skin. He’s loosened the corset but Regulus has not yet taken off the garment, leaving him free to toy with the strings, twirling them around his finger in a comforting motion. 

His lover tells him. The same words again and again. The same words that Barty will never tire of. The same words that increase the hole in his heart that craves for more of what Regulus gives in love.

[stvrdrops]

soul ties ☆ | shuri x fem!reader

love at first sight was something everyone believed in. for wakandans, it was something entirely different. it was the belief that bast had created lines to connect each human to their perfect fit. shuri believed that you were the end of that line for her.

warnings : some fighting mentioned, mature themes, and cursing.

word count : 6.2k+

note : i would play the song right when the word "she" is highlighted. :) also this is the largest fic i've ever written so yayyy

song : un-thinkable (i'm ready) by alicia keys ft. drake

"shuri?" a voice peeks through shuri's daydreaming. when the princess looks slightly down to her left she sees riri speaking to her.

"are you even paying attention to the tour?"

"yes, of course i am." shuri says in a tone that sounds almost as if she were offended that riri would even ask such a question. even though she did in fact have her attention elsewhere.

"don't front. what do you see that's so important?"

riri follows shuri's eyesight across the quad, until it lands on you. her face lights up and her eyes widen.

of course. she thinks as she watches you in a world entirely of your own. your airpod maxes had been on and you were stuck in a studying session. your braided hair was tied back into a long ponytail, keeping the strands from falling in your face. riri could see even from afar that you were wearing very little makeup. your natural face was the one she preferred, and it was one shuri quickly grew attached to. you were in spandex shorts and a red hoodie that proudly repped MIT in white lettering.

"no."

shuri looks back over to riri, "what?"

"i said no. you're not going to get anywhere with her. no one has. not even i could crack that code." riri mumbles out, clearly butthurt.

"so, i'm hearing that you two know each other."

riri rolls her eyes, "yeah, we're friends. i tutored her last year."

"will you introduce me?"

"no."

"the dean said meeting fellow students would be a good idea. y'know, so i can be more accustomed."

"the dean ain't here though, is she?"

"oh don't be like that."

riri grumbles. she assumes that it can't hurt to introduce the two of you. it's not like any of the other generational wealth kids impressed you. however, a princess with panther powers just might do the trick.

"fine. you get five minutes."

shuri smiles and begins making her way towards you. with every step she noticed how much more beautiful you got. she also happened to notice how her heart would be tugged on, as if being pulled along on a string by you. you reminded her of the beauty she found in wakanda. with your rich skin and dark brown eyes, she couldn't help but notice you.

shadows of figures fall over your textbooks as you were reading over a line about quantum physics. annoyance began to bubble up, considering you had to have all of this material memorized by tomorrow afternoon for a test.

your eyes raise to meet the people causing the shadows, ready to ask them exactly what it was that they needed. that is, until you see riri, and a face you've only ever known in the news. your hands quickly find their way to your headphones, slipping them around your neck.

"hey y/n." riri says so casually that it shocks you. did she not know who was standing right beside her?

"uh, hey riri."

riri does her silly smile that she does every time you say her name. you knew she was utterly smitten with you, but you also knew that your friendship to her mattered more than anything.

"hi y/n." shuri says with a sultry wakandan accent. riri knew that wasn't how she usually talked, all sexy like that. a swift elbow was placed into shuri's side. due to her panther powers she could barely feel it.

"are you who i think you are?" you can't help but ask, struggling to pick your jaw up from the floor. shuri was someone you would say you looked up to. politics was something you were extremely interested in and watching her on tv speak about wakanda inspired you deeply. you wished so badly to visit wakanda since they opened up their borders, but their policy on foreigners remained the same. they were not to enter unless absolutely necessary. riri was only granted access because of her and shuri's close friendship, that riri never thought to mention until now.

she laughs, which makes your eyes light up. riri notices and figures it's just because you're starstruck. that's what you assume too, but it doesn't feel like that.

"yeah, this is the princess of wakanda, shuri." riri says as she rolls her dark brown eyes, "enough about her though," she slides next to you on the bench. "what are you studying?"

"i'm trying to study quantum physics right now. which is proving to be practically impossible." you say with a heavy sigh. at this rate you were doomed.

"oh, that's real easy baby. i can help you with it later tonight if you want." riri says as her eyes rake over the material in the book.

"very funny riri."

"no, i'm serious. i'm holding a little study session later for shuri to meet some friends. i know you don't hang out with my crew all like that but you're welcome to join."

the invite is enticing.

"i happen to know a decent amount of quantum physics myself." shuri says with a charming smile, "i can help you if you need it."

now the invite seems even more enticing.

"i mean, i guess. as long as we actually study. last time you had a 'study session' we all ended up high."

riri puts her arm around your shoulder, "yeah, but you passed that test the next morning, didn't you?"

a smile can't help but make its way across your face, "yeah, that's true."

"mhm, i thought so."

"shouldn't you be off giving the princess a tour?"

"shuri." the wakandan says.

"hm?" you ask, your eyes torn away from riri.

"you can just call me shuri." she says, "no need for formalities."

"oh, okay. shuri." you say, testing how her name sounds against your tongue. it feels natural and comfortable. shuri would be lying if she said her heart didn't flutter.

riri's eyes shift back and forth as they watch you and shuri.

"ookayyy. yeah, it's time for us to go shuri." riri speaks as she gets up from her spot next to you. she walks back over to shuri, who is still gazing at you. "see you later y/n."

"bye girls." you say as you watch them walk away. riri is saying something to shuri with a weird look on her face, but you can't tell what it is. you're just surprised you kept your cool in shuri's company.

then almost as if by clockwork, your phone begins to ring. you stare at the name on the screen and a sigh leaves you. of course he's calling.

"y/n is here!" riri shouts to the rest of the guests in the room. the couch had been filled with the couple guests riri had waiting in her living room. you thought this was going to be a small gathering, which granted it was. six people, including yourself, wasn't even all that bad. you just felt like you weren't going to actually study tonight after seeing them all. also, you were the only one with a school book in your hand. you weren't surprised to see a few people you knew, with the exception of one girl who had been in the kitchen with shuri.

you set the book onto the table as you take a seat on a beanbag. you notice the girl you're unfamiliar with is hanging onto shuri in the kitchen, keeping her preoccupied with conversation. however, when she feels a gaze lingering on her she's not shocked to see that it's yours. despite how fast you looked away, she knew you were staring.

"you want a hit?" a girl you recognize as karly says before extending her arm out to you. you can't help but look at riri, who just shrugs at you.

"sure." it can't hurt to relax if everyone else was. besides, this might be exactly what you needed. if you took a break from studying maybe you'd do better on the test type deal.

you take a hit of the blunt, making sure to show off how much experience you have with one. it felt good as it scratched the back of your throat. it took you some time to get used to the feeling. now you could successfully take in large amounts without coughing your guts out.

"we got a pro over there." riri says with a smirk on her face. she moves closer to you and sits on the floor. you pass her the blunt and she takes a hit equivalent to yours.

"with the amount of times you persuade me to smoke with you i should be a pro by now."

she laughs at your remark and passes the blunt onto someone else.

shuri makes her way into the room after watching the conversation for a while. you could tell from her eyes that she had already had the blunt a couple times. you wondered how she looked as she smoked. she takes a spot on a chair opposite of the beanbag.

"ri, so you ain't gonna update us on you and justice? i saw you sneak back into the apartments with her. it's almost like you forget that just because you stay in the bougie ass campus apartments means we can't spy on you."

"she not important."

"mhm, not like how y/n is."

riri narrows her eyes at her friends.

you laugh though, the weed taking your edge off. "i don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."

the whole room's eyes are now on you. your smile slowly dissipates from your face and your eyes go wide when you realize what you've said.

"boyfriend? since when the fuck do you have a boyfriend?" riri asks, a bit hurt that you never bothered to tell her this information.

"since my senior year of high school. he goes to a different school out of state." you say this so matter of factly. you weren't lying, you did have a boyfriend. he did also attend an out of state school. he was studying computer engineering. he was pissed when he didn't get into MIT and you did. he viewed it as an insult to his intelligence. that should've been one of your first of many red flags. you two talked at max five times a day. any more than that would just be a headache. two busy schedules don't mix well, especially when sometimes you're filling up your schedule just to make sure you had a solid excuse for missed calls.

"you didn't think that was important to tell us? no wonder someone hasn't been walking on campus bragging about how they nailed you." jacari says, a mutual friends of your's and riri's.

"lay off, at least she's faithful." karly says, staring daggers at him.

"i mean, you guys don't really ask me about my romantic life because you assumed there wasn't one."

"is there one? if he's out of state i'm sure that's hard to deal with." shuri can't help but say. the entire room turns to look at her, surprised she's asked such a question like that. she barely knew you. the one fact that she now did know about you was that you had a boyfriend that you didn't like to bring up. that was something she wasn't hoping to learn at all.

"yes, i have a very happy relationship with him." you say, knowing it's a lie. why are you lying? are you still trying to convince yourself? just today when he called you as you studied you argued with him. he wanted to stay where he was at for spring break and you wanted him to come visit you. it was months away, but you had to plan these things in advance with him. he never came to see you anymore. just this past christmas he lied saying he couldn't get out of his internship, but instead he was at his mother's house opening presents as she asked where you were.

you should have broken up with him by now. however, he was comfortable for you. did you really have the time to get to know someone entirely new? did you want to relearn someone's favorite color, zodiac sign, dreams, and goals? granted, there were plenty of choices in front of you that you already knew. such as riri, who you could see yourself being with. however, you prized her friendship so much more.

"that was intrusive, forgive me." shuri apologizes. her thick accent making your skin crawl.

"it's okay.." you mutter out.

"what's his name?" she asks, desperate to get any more information out of you. really, she just likes to hear your voice.

"monty." you say, his nickname rolling so easily off of your tongue, "i mean, his real name is montell. i call him monty."

"he sounds nerdy as fuck." riri can't help but say out of her own saltiness.

"i mean, he is."

"oh my god, so when was the last time you had an orgasm?" the mystery girl can't help but ask.

now this was a question shuri was interested in.

"i don't know. the beginning of this past summer." you wouldn't dare tell them that it had been one you pulled out of yourself.

"sis, you're kidding." jacari says, shocked at how long it had been. "y'all don't have phone sex?"

not even once.

"nah, it just never comes up for us." you try to say in a nonchalant manner, as if it doesn't bother you how you don't get turned on for him anymore. as if you ever did.

"that sounds miserable."

"it is." you can't lie as you laugh, "i've been itching to have sex for a while now. guess it'll just have to wait."

"whew, you're better than i am. i would've fucked half the campus by now if i were you." jacari continues on before taking a hit.

the conversation ends abruptly when riri's roommate comes out of her room and towards you.

"i need my beanbag please." she says, standing right over you. "i'm about to start studying and i'd rather not do it on my bed."

it takes a second to realize what she's saying to you through your high.

"yeah, of course." you say as you get up, pulling the chair from beside you and handing it to her.

"thanks." she says kindly, and then glares at riri. she goes back into her room, leaving you to stand.

"that bitch is always tripping. she didn't need her damn chair. she's just mad i have people over." riri says as she glares towards the door.

shuri notices you're standing and her mouth begins to speak before she can stop herself.

"do you want to sit in my lap? it's probably more comfortable than the floor." shuri offers up, everyone looking at her with wide eyes. it was a bold move that she was practically flirting with you despite finding out you have a boyfriend. also, after insulting the said relationship between the two of you.

of course, you didn't pick up on how charged that question really was. you were naturally oblivious to that stuff.

"yeah, okay. thanks." you say as you sit on her lap, or more specifically her knee. your spandex shorts made it so that practically every inch of your exposed skin was touching with hers, considering she had on shorts as well. you could tell they were riri's.

maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the lack of sexual release. all you knew was that it felt damn good to have yourself pressed up against her knee. it was like she was teasing you, without even having to do it on purpose. you felt embarrassed as you felt yourself pulse from the closeness and how wonderful it felt. you attempted to get up, scared that she might know how you were feeling. however, her arm quickly found its way around your waist as she held you down onto her lap. your skin covered itself with goosebumps from the dominating grab. it was hard to act like you were interested in whatever conversation riri and her friends had been having with one another. shuri, on the other hand, had no problem continuing in the conversation as she felt how warm you were.

really shuri had not noticed just how bold her movements were. she had this want to protect you, as if you were hers. she wondered if it was because of her panther powers. however, she also wondered if it was something more. the reality that you had a boyfriend kept her from doing anything unwanted. she didn't know the way you felt towards her, if you had any feelings at all. if she couldn't get to know you in a romantic way then a friendly manner would have to do. even if she would ache for something more despite just meeting you this afternoon. shuri recalled a moment with her brother earlier in her life that left her thinking for the rest of the day after meeting you.

"when did you know nakia was the one for you, brother?"

he chuckles, "when i saw her."

shuri couldn't believe it, "what kind of hopeless romantic answer is that?"

"exactly what i just said. bast created soul ties underneath the rich vibranium soils that our eyes are unable to see. even us panthers can not view where the lines lead us. however, we can see when they have reached their destination. when you see that person, you just know that this is where your line ends. you know that bast made you for one another. you also know that you no longer need to search for that line."

"is there a chance that bast would forget to create a line for me? or at least, in the same way she created nakia's to you?" shuri began to wonder, scared because when she was young she didn't know where her sexuality laid.

"oh sweet little sister," he sighs, "bast would never forget to make you a person. after all, your annoying tendencies were made for someone to love."

"ugh, you suck!" shuri says, a wide smile on her face as she playfully hits her brother. he just smiles in return.

shuri believed that she saw the soul tie that connected to you. an american girl who she had never seen before. her brother was gone, but he was right.

your phone that is sitting in your lap starts to buzz, interrupting your train of thought as you attempt to uphold your composure and try not to seem too high. you squint your eyes at the bright screen.

"hi monty." you answer the phone, buzzed enough to sound happy that he's called. shuri watches the phone out of the corner of her eye. she's too curious to see what her competition looks like. he's sun kissed and has a buzz cut. he looked just as nerdy as his name sounded.

"where are you at?" he asks, not greeting her back.

"i'm at riri's."

shuri watches as his face turns into one of disgust. "i thought i told you to stop going over there. all she ever does is get you high."

riri is far too buzzed and in her own world to realize what he's said. shuri heard it though, and furrowed her brows.

"getting high is my own choice, monty. i know you get high with your frat bros in north carolina."

"it's different."

no it isn't.

"wait a minute, are you sitting on some other dude's lap?" he asks, as all he can see is shuri's curly hair.

"no, this is shuri. like the princess of wakanda shuri." you whisper that last part into the phone. it shows just how truly geeked you are.

"you're lying. that's a fucking dude."

before you can say anything, shuri takes the phone from you and puts it on her own face. you watch as monty's face goes wide and for once he has nothing to say.

"hello montell."

"oh, um. i-i'm sorry, princess." monty is scrambling to find the words and shuri can tell he wants to hang up. he always hated to be embarrassed. being embarrassed by royalty was the lowest it could get.

you take the phone back before he gets the chance to hang up, "wait, monty, what were you calling for?"

"well, i thought about what you were saying earlier. i'll come home for spring break. i miss you baby."

his voice sounded so insincere and shuri cringed at it. this was the man who got to claim you as his own? you had a beauty unrivaled and here you were wasting it on some man who couldn't even seem excited about seeing you. she felt offended for you, even though you were use to this by now.

"really? what made you change your mind?"

"i don't know. i guess i'll see you over break though. we can talk more about this at another time."

you knew what he meant by this.

"i'm not out partying, monty."

"you are. at least be a responsible adult and get up for your classes tomorrow. bye."

"bye." you say back, unwilling to fight.

when he hangs the phone up you realize the everyone is looking at you. your face heats up from noticing that everyone probably witnessed that entire exchange. of course they caught him on a night where he was being a dick. it was pretty much every night, so this did make your case to defend him a little harder. you didn't want to get up from shuri's knee considering it felt so nice up against you. however, you also didn't want to hear any comments from the gallery.

"i'm going to go home." you say, pulling yourself into sobriety after that conversation. "hope you all have a good night."

shuri lets you up from her lap. she feels bad you're walking home but it's not like you've never done it before. the heat you resonated leaves her feeling cold when you stand away from her. everything inside of her is screaming for her to grab you back into her arms and keep you there. a part of you wanted that too, but it was unrecognizable.

riri hands you the physics book on the table. "get home safe, y/n."

"i always do."

you got home safe that night. you also searched for an orgasm multiple times that night as you recalled how good you felt against her. you replicated her knee with a pillow and held on tight to yourself with your free hand. you tried so desperately to think of monty as you rocked against it. however, nothing worked. all you could do was imagine your head placed in the crook of the princess's neck, smelling her enticing cologne. you could hear her wakandan accent telling you how good you were doing and how badly she craved you. they were all words that monty could never say to you. they were words you searched so bad for because you ached for her praise. only when you moaned out her name as you finished made you so self aware to what you had been doing. this made you dig your head into your pillow, still heaving from the high.

what you did weighed heavy on your conscience. especially when you had been practically spending every day with shuri. she was basically attached to your hip. she joined your study sessions, she came with you to try american cuisine, her favorite being wingstop for some strange reason, and she even waited for you after every class. she was your best friend, making riri fall into second place.

at one point a rumor had been going around campus that the two of you were in a relationship, despite the fact you had a boyfriend. after all, who could deny a princess of the most powerful and advanced nation in the world? you could deny her as much as you wanted. however, you knew deep down that you couldn't do it for long. you didn't know how much longer you'd keep stringing monty and yourself along. commitment was something you were scared of. commitment to a future leader of a nation was something entirely different. what if you had decided to dump monty for a potential happy relationship with shuri? what would happen if it ended? you'd rather not think of all the possibilities, instead you preferred self sabotage. you appreciated shuri so dearly, in the a.m. and in the p.m. when you would finish to thoughts of her. whether it be how she played with your hair when she got bored, how she laughed so sweetly at your jokes, or how she constantly had her hand in yours or on your waist. you knew friends didn't do that. you knew that she also knew that.

the more time you spent with shuri meant the more time you spent ignoring monty. he saw paparazzi pictures that his friends would show him of the two of you together. he felt some type of way of course, blowing up your phone with "she might as well be your boyfriend the way she's touching on you." your only response being a swift "okay" and an "i'm sorry." you weren't sure how else to respond to him, knowing that you were cheating emotionally and even somewhat physically. you imagined that monty couldn't have stayed loyal to you with the lying he did. so what did it matter if you told a couple white lies too?

you didn't even realize that at one point whenever you brought him up you'd start referring to him again as his birth name, montell.

"montell?" you can't help but ask in surprise as you open the door to your dorm.

"surprise!" he says with the most emotion you've heard out of him in weeks. a bouquet of flowers are in his large hands. a nice turtleneck adorned his chest, which had gotten bigger. he must've been putting his frustration into working out. "you back to calling me by my birth name?"

he pushes his way into the dorm, looking around at your space that you shared with your roommate who had been out of town.

"um, you're early. a week early." you express to him, rubbing your forehead. you weren't prepared for his arrival in the slightest. your hair had been pulled into a bun and your face was bare. you adorned some grey sweatpants that did not belong to you. shuri had left them here the last time she slept over. she claimed it was "too warm" in the room to wear such pants. instead she wore a pair of your shorts that you never got back.

"you weren't going to tell me that your spring break started a week earlier than mine? i just decided to do my coursework ahead of time and then surprise you."

"honestly it slipped my mind." you say, which was the truth.

he sets the bouquet down.

"you look pretty." he says as he gets closer to you. his hands grab your waist, pulling you in and looking at you as if he wanted to devour you. it was almost as if he had forgotten how pretty you were. or maybe he was just jealous, because he knew the pants were too big for you.

you wanted to pull away, not wanting to kiss him despite thinking that you had been missing him all this time.

"not right now, i kinda just woke up." you say, which was a lie. it was eight p.m. on a rainy night. you could never sleep when it rained.

"okay, i guess later then when we go out to dinner. you looked like you were expecting somebody though with the way you opened up the door. is it that stupid princess you've been hanging around?"

there was the montell you were used to. a jealous, insecure, fucking man child.

"no." you say, a lie. your face scrunches up in disgust that he would refer to her in that tone.

he knows you're lying.

"okay. so if i wait up around in here she's not gonna show up?"

"i don't know. i can't control what she does."

"bullshit. you've got her walking around behind you like you're the one who's royalty. call her."

what?

"no."

"i said, fucking call her."

before you can say anything he's attempting to grab your phone. you put up a good fight, causing the phone to get launched right into his face. you gasp when you've realized what you did. instant regret fills your body as you spurt out countless apologizes.

"it would've been better if you just fucked her, y/n. cause then i could confidently say i don't give a fuck about you and finally tell you about all the girls i've been nailing since i went away. heh, just like how you've been. guess we finally have something in common."

your eyes go wide at his words. there it was. there was the truth that you had been begging to hear in some deep part of your brain. those were the words that could allow you to finally let him go. this was the moment you decided that you weren't okay with being 'comfortable' anymore. you were utterly repulsed at him and yourself for letting this go on for so long. for months you refused to act on impulses that you craved so badly to have. your lip trembled when you thought about how you could've kissed shuri ten times over by now. you had been holding onto something that you didn't realize had no real value to you anymore. and for what? to be treated like some idiot? you didn't deserve that.

"get the fuck out. you should've never come home."

"yeah i should've stayed with my other girlfriend. at least she doesn't flaunt herself around with other people in fucking tabloids. it's embarrassing you know that? when your buddies send you links of some bitch having her arm wrapped around your girlfriend? they teased me about it in my frat for weeks after she got caught playing in your hair and looking so lovey dovey with you. they called me a pussy for not coming back home sooner."

"so that's why you came back? to prove yourself to some idiot frat boys who are gonna be stuck drinking out of kegs the rest of their life while you write all their code, making them the millionaires? get the fuck out montell."

"you bitch-"

"i said leave."

you don't have to tell him again before he's grabbing up his roses and muttering curse words at you under his breath. you held your composure until he slammed the door shut. when surrounded in your own hospitality you finally crack. the tears fall down your face and plop as they hit the wooden floor. you were crying because you were upset about losing someone you loved. you were crying because you had let yourself be played for a fool for so long. a part of you feels liberated as the weight of montell is lifted off of your shoulders.

"y/n?" a voice says from behind the door. you recognize it's shuri.

attempting to speak only results in you being choked up. the door opens as you raise your head to look up at her.

her grey hoodie that says MIT has raindrops all over it. her curls are wet and drip against the wood floors. she looked beautiful despite being soaked. the fact she looked so beautiful made you cry even more.

when she lays her eyes on you she can't help but immediately rush over. she drops the books about physics she had in her hand. she had every intention on coming over here to study with you, but now she didn't care about any of that. she had never seen you like this before. her only priority was you. her heart was set solely on you.

"what happened?" she asks, her arms wrapped around your body as you huddled into yourself. you don't dare to look at her, feeling too ashamed.

"montell.. i'm so stupid." you manage to choke out.

shuri puts it all together. she thought that man she had passed in the hallway just now looked familiar. she knew even more that something was up when he gave her a glare that could've had him killed. had she known he left you like this, she would've killed him herself. how dare he cause such pain to someone who did nothing but care for others?

"whatever happened, you are not stupid. you are one of the brightest girls i know, and that's saying a lot."

you somehow manage to laugh and look back up at her. she's still holding on tight, making you feel warm in her embrace. it reminds you of the study session at riri's. it feels pure. it feels like you're the only person in the world to her.

she wipes away your tears with the pads of her thumbs, her eyebrows contorted into a face that resembles worry.

"please don't cry. you are too pretty to cry over such ugly things. i hate to see you cry."

you think that this is exactly how love is supposed to feel as she says those words to you.

"shuri.."

"y/n. you make me feel things that i've never felt before. you're something that is so impossible to ignore that i can't help but spend every second with you. you put up with my annoying tendencies. you put up with my clinginess. you put up with my lack of american pop culture knowledge. you denied me my feelings because you knew it was the wrong thing to do if you fell into my temptation. i know you know deep down how i feel for you. it is quite obvious. you are an angel among men, y/n. you are my angel. you've saved me in ways that you can't even begin to think of. i never had any intentions on falling in love with you, but it has happened. you may not be in love with me but you are what makes my world spin. you are what makes my oceans flow and earth quake. you are exactly who bast intended me for and i can't ignore this anymore. i can't let you sit here and think you are foolish when you are anything but. you are considerate, you are kind, you are a person worthy of being a queen. you are my queen, wakanda's future queen."

her words have shocked you as you sit there, eyes wide and your mouth partly gaped open. you thought you'd want to hear those words from montell, but really it had been shuri all along. you couldn't ignore your feelings towards her after a love confession of such caliber. it had shaken you to your core and it took you out of your sadness. your heart was beating at a dangerous tempo, but it was aligned with hers. you didn't know what she meant by her goddess creating you for her, but you could feel it. you could feel it because you knew she was made for you as well.

you hadn't realized, but you knew everything about her. you knew shuri's favorite color was purple. you knew her zodiac sign was sagittarius. you knew her dreams and goals of advancing wakanda. you also knew how scared she was to become the future queen as she once cried in your arms.

you love shuri. you love her so much that it made you blind. you'd rather ignore that feeling than feed into it, but that's all changed now. she took the lead tonight and now it was time for you to express what came to your mind.

so you did.

your lips connected to hers in a wild frenzy. finally you were quenching this thirst you had been searching for since she came into your life. after all this time you were doing the unthinkable. you were allowing yourself to be her's, rather than anyone else's. your fears of commitment felt like things of the past when your hands made their way to her face. her skin felt so soft against yours, as it got wet from your tears. her plump lips are attached to your soft ones. it felt like you were intertwining yourself with her. for shuri, it felt like the soul ties were becoming knotted into one. finally she had you and she had no plans of ever letting you go. this was the unthinkable and it was so beautiful as you held onto each other, placing intimate kisses one one another. this was you saying you loved her just as deeply as she loved you, in very little words.

you were ready. after all this time you were ready to see what was right in front of you this whole time. you could never go back to what it was before. she was your soulmate.

"i'm sorry." you whisper out after you pull away to breathe.

her hands begin caressing your face as her eyebrows furrow. "what are you sorry for, my love?"

"i'm sorry for not doing this any sooner. i'm so sorry."

"you never have to apologize to me. i would've waited until the end of time for you."

you smile, feeling your heart swell.

as the rain falls down around outside of your dorm walls, you stay in her embrace. shuri could feel her brother smiling at her from a distant plane, knowing in death that he was right. he had been smiling even brighter at the prospect that shuri did indeed find her nakia.

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙✧⋆｡°✩☼⋆｡°✩☽︎

[holdy-caulfield]

My review on Star Trek book:

Doctor’s Orders by Diana Duane.

Genre: hard sci fi

Pages: 291

Key words: worldbuilding, alien culture, time, strategies, psychology, Hippocratic Oath, linguistics, first time in command, stressful situations

Highlights: McCoy is in character, Kirk mostly, battle, crew work, humor, worldbuilding

Downsides: reason why McCoy is in command (unrealistic, OOC for Kirk), Spock & McCoy interactions (too friendly for them), lack of tension.

Vibe/tone: nerdy, light-hearted

With spoilers!

I really enjoy sci-fi as a whole genre, and the worldbuilding aspect is what has drawn me into Star Trek in the first place (second place was a video of Kirk and Spock). When it comes to fiction based on the franchise & fanfiction for me personally the most important aspects are canonical characters and accurate representation of their relationship.

I’ve heard a lot of positives about Diana Duane, so I was exited to get my hands on her books. Since McCoy is my favourite character, I decided to start with the book where he’s in a primal focus.

The premise seemed great. I was very curious how McCoy would behave as a commander of the ship, and I was particularly interested how he would handle Spock, as there were a few instances in the show where Spock and McCoy have been left without Kirk. The book cover showed Spock standing firmly next to our favourite doctor in the captain’s chair.

The idea itself is intriguing enough — what will be the difference in the decision making between a trained soldier and a doctor? The book excitingly starts with a Hippocratic Oath.

This book does feel like an episode. It’s relatively short, the whole action takes place in a span of a few days, it has an idealistic nature, and a perfectly good ending.

The dialogue and humor are good, manner of speech is convincing for each character, there’s a lot of strategic decisions during battle and I love watching/reading the whole crew working together as the whole.

The fact that McCoy is new to commanding helps the reader to understand what’s going on better and his decision making, it is easier to imagine how you’d feel in his shoes. The whole McCoy commanding aspect in my opinion was very in character.

The book has a lot of focus on the planetary species, human characters getting to know them better, studying them and discussing them from a scientific perspective (so, the book puts science into science fiction). It was a curious read, but I think it is not exactly for those who came for an action adventure. A bunch of scientists discussing species and linguistics is the bigger part of the book. I love this stuff as I said earlier, I personally could read all these discussions about interesting species and their culture forever, but I can imagine it can be boring for some (although IMO if you’re a ST fan you should expect this).

I quickly understood what’s going with them personally but there were some aspects which I didn’t quite understand or that were not explained enough. Why Ornae were building stuff? Maybe I’m forgetting something, but I don’t remember if they gave a clear answer. I also didn’t get why ;At would say yes in the end. It felt for me rather logical that they would say no. I didn’t feel that either Federation either the species would benefit in anything else then knowledge. Well, they could protect the planet, but… I thought ;At are a bit too powerful to really need extra protection.

There are also Klingons. I thought it was a very nice touch that doctor managed to find a common ground using psychology. It was funny, but also believable.

Klingons do not feel as a threat, well, not dangerous enough. Klingons’ motivation to be on the planet for me personally seemed not really satisfactory for a reader. It made them even less threatening (while they of course shouldn’t be exactly threatening, I just wished for more… spice).

I really did like the unexpected friendliness simply because McCoy is a professional medic and knows psychology, it’s very in character and canonical. I enjoyed the bits when he uses his profession to command and even as a moral compass.

My biggest issue was there was not enough tension. And it is primarily because of Spock.

It might be my own vision, but what I can judge from the show is that Spock and McCoy have a complicated relationship in the span of the series. Their philosophies opposite each other, while both characters are not so different as either McCoy or Spock would think (they both are very emphatic for example) so it creates this unique dynamic of a lot things being unsaid and truths ignored.

Most of the time when McCoy and Spock are left alone with each other, they start an argument and can say actually hurtful things to each other. It is quite obvious to me that Spock likes McCoy, while McCoy’s reaction to him is not exactly unambiguous. There should be tension. It what makes their relationship interesting.

In the book McCoy and Spock are as friendly as could be.

Of course there are a few funny moments, but for me there should be a lot more bickering, a lot more emotions involved around Kirk’s disappearance, and there could be just done more (for example, a danger which would force them to leave the orbit, but McCoy wants to stay to find Jim, and Spock is there to try to make him understand the logics and the fact that he feels that Jim is alright… ).

Kirk is there to balance Spock and McCoy out. The idea of McCoy being forced to rely on Spock with whom he disagrees mostly, or Spock relying on emotional McCoy is such an interesting concept, so it’s a pity for me I didn’t get this explored in the book.

Kirk isn’t in a real danger, which also makes it lack tension. But it’s probably my own issue, I like “damsel in distress” trope when it comes to strong characters like the Enterprise crew and the trio in particular.

Overall, it was an enjoyable read. Despite the lack of tension, there is some good dialogue, realistic approach to the idea of a medical doctor being in command, the battle is great & the worldbuilding is creative.

[grandlinedreams]

... hi, it's me again ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ i'm on finals week so i need a heavy dose of daydreaming with my comfort characters. can i request some hc (or an escenario, again whichever you prefer) about law helping the reader to study for an exam? maybe his reaction to the reader thinking that their grade wasn't good enough after taking the test? (great score, not the full mark) thank you sm ! i love your writing and i hope you have a great week and take proper rests mwah .⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Oof, finals week is always a doozy :( you've got this bb, I'm hoping that you got wonderful scores!!

[Heads up!: modern!au, fluff, comfort!]

You've been studying for weeks. Hours upon hours spent poring over your notes and text books, making flashcards and begging Law to help you review them, make sure that your grasp of the content was solid.

Highlighter stained fingers and paragraph after paragraph ㅡ burning the midnight oil until you can't keep your eyes open any longer. Law helps where he can, both in studying (he even drags out some of his old notes) and in making sure that you don't turn this into a detriment to your health.

("I'm not just your boyfriend," he intones as he more or less pushes you towards the bed, "I'm also a doctor. And I don't want you to pass out, so bed. Now.")

And ultimately, you have a good feeling that all of your hardwork will pay off ㅡ you're a good student, you pay attention, you ask questions when you need to.

It feels like a slap to the face when your score doesn't reflect that. At first you think you've read it wrong, trace it with a finger and mouth it to yourself ㅡ and then disappointment slams into you like a lead weight.

With yourself, with the material, even your professor (who, oddly enough, is one of the sweeter people you've had for a class) ㅡ it isn't fair.

You tried. You tried so hard ㅡ and it still isn't enough.

Law's first warning that things aren't okay is the fact that you don't answer your cellphone when he tries to call and ask what you want for dinner. The second is that the lights are off in your shared apartment, something that never happens (both of you have odd sleep schedules even when things are normal and there is almost always a light on somewhere) ㅡ and that he can't find you.

Your shoes are at the door, jacket hung up, along with your keys ㅡ you're home, but where is the question.

With limited space, there is only a handful of places you can be and when he sees you're not in the room that doubles as both a study and his office, he checks the bedroom.

Yor back is to him and were it not for the tremble of your shoulders, he'd think you were asleep. But you're not, you're crying and his heart sinks.

"[Name]," he says as he approaches, coaxing you up and into his arms, "why are you crying?"

It takes a minute or two for you to answer, sniffling as you take a shuddering breath. "Got the results of the exam back."

Law frowns. "And?" He prompts gently, wiping at your face, tear tracks cooling on your skin. He watches you, the tremble of your lips as you tell him your score, and his frown deepens. "That isn't that bad," he says, "that's only a couple points off."

"But I studied my ass off, Law!" Frustration colors your tone. "I worked so hard to ace that exam and it doesn't feel like I did enough."

Law understands the need for perfection, for everything to have a place and for nothing to be subpar ㅡ but he also knows how detrimental that can be for both your self-esteem and your overall health.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Law says, cradling your face gently. "You're still on the higher end of score for that exam, [Name]. And you can always ask your professor where she docked points and why."

Law has a point, and you sniffle before you press into him, sighing as he rubs your back. "You're right. I'm sorry for crying, that's stupid."

"No, it isn't." Law chides gently. "But these past few weeks have been stressful for you. I brought home dinner, and I can start a bath for you after, if you'd like."

You press a soft kiss to his shoulder. "Can we cuddle after?"

"Of course."

You hum, letting yourself cling to your boyfriend a little longer. "Sounds perfect."

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince book 1 highlights & annotations

chapter 5

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Laurent moved off a few steps. Damen saw him lift a hand to the back of his own neck, as if to release tension. Saw him do nothing for a moment but stand and be quiet and breathe the cool air scented with night flowers. It occurred to Damen for the first time that Laurent might have his own reasons for wanting to escape the attention of the court.

i appreciate this hint of their future dynamic :)

A silence opened up around Laurent’s words. In it, their meaning changed. Herode began, ‘I—’ Then he looked at Damen, and his expression grew alarmed. ‘Is this safe? He’s broken his leash. Guard!’

context: laurent needs herode to think that damen deserved the flogging, so he took him somewhere private and broke his bindings, framing damen as disobedient. nice moment ruined >:(

‘If you’re concerned that my memory for wrongs against me is longer than ten months,’ said Laurent, ‘there’s no need for anxiety. I am sure you can persuade me you were genuinely mistaken.’

translation: “make it up to me, disloyal coward.” the way laurent deals with this person, who lacks loyalty and integrity, foreshadows how much he will struggle to hate damen, who has more loyalty and integrity than any sane person probably should

‘How thoughtful of you, Councillor,’ said Laurent. ‘He turned to Damen and said in a melting voice, ‘Your back must hurt terribly.’ ‘It’s fine,’ said Damen. ‘Kneel on the ground, then,’ Laurent said.

absolutely no strategy here, laurent just sucks. "oh you're comfortable for once? let's see what i can do about that." also the fact that laurent is trying to appear likable to herode but still cannot resist being a bitch to damen is sooo funny

His best feature was a pair of amazing blue eyes, unmatched by any Damen had ever seen, except for the ones he had recently been staring into.

damen has a talent for thirsting over laurent in the most backhanded manner possible

His skin was fair and his curling light brown hair was burnished with gold. He was exactly the type that Damen could have drawn down onto the sheets and spent a very pleasant couple of hours enjoying.

damen likes blondes mention #4. erasmus barely scrapes by, but the word “gold” tells us everything we need to know

‘Well?’ Laurent said. ‘Can you couple adequately, or do you just kill things?’

god he sucks. also, “adequate.”

Damen thought that given the choice between the lash and a conversation with Laurent, he might actually choose the lash.

‘He’s not very talkative,’ remarked Vannes. ‘It comes and goes,’ said Laurent.

laurent continues to shoulder the burden of being the funniest bitch in this entire court

Damen was sickened by the idea of some nobleman’s boy offering himself up to be hurt on the assumption that it would play to Laurent’s tastes. Then he thought of all he knew of Laurent, and only felt sicker, because of course the boy’s assumptions were probably correct.

context: i don’t think laurent is an equal-opportunity sadist, or even a sadist at all. he just really hates damen specifically, and mirrors the viciousness of his culture to survive

If there was anything explicit on view, it must be the absence of all desire to be where he was.

the garden scene. okay. 

first, context: a possible explanation for laurent volunteering damen could be a desire to see him experience a similar situation to his own abuse from his uncle, since damen is the reason laurent lost his protector. however, that doesn’t quite sound right to me, because wouldn’t seeing this whole tableau just re-traumatize laurent? then again, laurent’s life in the veretian court is pretty much endless re-traumatization, all day every day. so i suppose in his mind, he might as well get something out of his own shitty circumstances, and that something in this case is revenge. misery loves company, after all. 

also, sex to laurent is a matter of control and power, rather than love or pleasure. so to him, both this and the fighting ring might feel the same as any other kind of violence. he doesn’t care about the additional violation that sexual assault carries towards his enemies—and at the end of the day, laurent knows that he himself has probably been through worse. 

the exception to this is nicaise, or anyone else who laurent deems innocent and disempowered. those people, he will try to protect to the very best of his ability. but at this point in the series, laurent sees damen not only as a shitty person, but also a shitty person with power. he knows that damen is not a slave, but a prince. a prince who keeps slaves of his own. so in laurent-brain, i can see how this could be twisted into something justifiable. or just not worth justifying at all.

it still isn’t right, though. they could have done this and been just as horny about it with, like, dubious consent rather than none. i think i would feel more comfortable finding elements of this scene hot if that were the case, but i respect and appreciate that the point of this book is not simply to Be Hot. and to be fair—instant gratification, moral simplicity, and straightforward execution are not very compelling qualities for an erotic scene to possess. i’m just glad that the rest of the sex-adjacent scenes in this series between damen and laurent are explicitly consensual, because this scene would be harder to accept within the series’s ethical framework and the development of their love story if it happened multiple times.

i want to analyze the craft here, but i feel uncomfortable dissecting what i know to be a non-consensual scene in order to determine what makes it hot. but i also know, undeniably, that the events of this scene are hot, and that hotness was almost certainly written on purpose. 

for me, the hotness does not come from the lack of consent itself, but rather the action and dialogue happening on the page. i don’t think the lack of consent is necessarily meant to be hot here—it’s the absolute insanity of laurent’s approach to oral sex, and the power dynamic it creates, that makes the scene memorable. and those elements could easily be reproduced in a consensual scene and have the same effect. so i want to study those elements specifically, to see how they work as erotic writing, removed from the parts that don’t. 

tl;dr: the garden scene is unequivocally non-consensual. however, it is written in a way that eroticizes the circumstances. i can still study the writing where it is effective without finding the circumstances of the scene morally justifiable or hot, in fiction or real life. 

anyway. i'm trying to study the craft of scenes like this, so i'm going full analysis on this one. garden scene, summarized:  

setup: laurent is rumored to be frigid and does not partake in the sexual activities of veretian nobility. yet he goes along with this tableau, allowing damen to be used as a participant. i do not think that this is for laurent’s own sexual gratification, because i don’t think laurent is in touch with his own sexuality in general. sex means something different to laurent than it does to damen, and the other characters in the scene, and (i’d hope) to the reader as well.

beginning: ancel isn’t damen’s type. damen has no strong feelings about ancel as a person. he is not attracted to ancel’s frivolity or weak will. being serviced by ancel is not doing anything for damen. he feels smug about this. it gives him power over laurent, who has permitted this tableau in order to emphasize the power he has over damen.

then: laurent—who is damen’s type, his worst enemy, and the reason he’s in this situation in the first place—starts coaching ancel on how to give head. laurent is completely methodical and detached with his instructions, and is clearly focusing on psychologically tormenting damen, rather than getting off on the display. in other words, he is neither frivolous nor weak-willed. he’s exactly the opposite. 

meanwhile: damen, our pov character, is no longer immune to whatever the fuck is going on in this scene. he is into this and can’t hide it. he has lost the power he briefly had over laurent, and now possesses even less power than he started with. not only is he owned by laurent in the technical sense, but he is being owned by laurent in the horny sense too. 

and i believe that the intention is for the reader to understand how he's feeling—not to blame him for his interest, because this situation is clearly compelling, to damen and possibly the person reading. laurent’s ability to essentially mindfuck damen across the room, fully clothed, is honestly insane. cs pacat herself says that about laurent in a commentary video—he’s a mindfucker. it’s intentional and it’s the focal point of the scene. much later on in the series, i think damen even admits that he was paying attention to laurent the whole time. it’s hot. it just is. 

i’ll point out more specific things in the following passages, but that’s the gist of it. i'm cringing so hard posting this publicly, but if heterosexual women on booktok can post their whole-ass face and gps location while fangirling over colleen hoover sex scenes, i think i can share my messy gay mindfucking analysis on a website that hasn't been a part of the public consciousness since like 2017

Laurent was watching Damen’s face with the same cerebral attention that he might apply to a strategic problem. ‘He likes that. Do it harder,’ said Laurent.

craft note: laurent openly observes damen’s responses, notices exactly what works, tells ancel to do that specifically because “he likes it,” and that turns damen on even more

personal note: oh my god

Damen could feel his thighs tighten, then, minutely, spread, his breath quickening in his chest... He turned towards Laurent. It was a mistake to look at him. Even in the shadows of evening, Damen could see the relaxed arrangement of Laurent’s body, the marmoreal perfection of his features, and the detached unconcern with which he gazed at Damen, not bothering to so much as glance down at Ancel’s moving head.

craft note: damen loses his resolve, looks to laurent for mercy, and is just even more mindfucked by the fact that laurent is completely unaffected, not even interested at all

If you believed the Prince’s Guard, Laurent was the impregnable citadel, and took no lovers at all. Right now Laurent gave the impression of a mind somewhat engaged, and a body wholly aloof, untouched by ardour. The ribald fancy of the Prince’s Guard held a kernel of plausibility. On the other hand, the aloof, untouched Laurent was at this moment delivering a precise treatise on cocksucking.

god, this is SO fucking good. damen is basically admitting that he can’t believe laurent is entirely sexless, because he is managing to fuck him without even having sex at all.

craft note: that is the perfect moment to insert a crass word, after paragraphs of more clinical descriptions. i love that the only time we hear “cocksucking” in this scene is in reference to laurent not actually sucking cock, while it is (intentionally, i assume) not used in reference to the actual cocksucking that’s happening on the page. 

also, "precise treatise" cracks me up, as someone currently writing what could be considered a precise treatise on this scene.

The image of Ancel... was joined in his fragmenting thoughts by the sudden harsh desire to get his hands on Laurent’s body and exact revenge—both for his actions and for his airy absence.

damen’s desire to get laurent’s attention because he wants to fight him, but also because he wants laurent to see him come… diabolical writing. craft. whatever. this is an objective and academic analysis.

Damen was... pushed back down onto his knees. Laurent was seated opposite, legs crossed. Damen’s eyes fixed on him, and looked nowhere else; his breathing was still noticeable, and his pulse rapid, but anger produced all the same effects.

who’s ancel?

additional thoughts on erotic elements in the garden scene: i think what i like here, is that… yeah, it’s horny. it’s indulgent, easily the most blatant instance of kink we’ve seen so far. but it’s not really what i think frequent readers of this kink genre would expect, or even want to read—it is a subversion, with laurent completely disrupting the basic scenario that everyone else (but damen) in the scene wants to mindlessly enjoy. 

but that subversion, to me, just makes it hotter. there’s physical stuff happening, sure, but the real eroticism comes from the words, emotions, and power exchange between laurent and damen. the scene doesn’t give the reader the simplicity of “someone topped, someone bottomed, here are several pages of mechanical description.” the actual sex act is described almost clinically, just how laurent dictates. and it’s definitely not as simple as who’s topping and who’s bottoming—whatever the fuck happens here is way weirder and messier than that, and so much more compelling. 

basically, i think that this scene fails to be hot in all the ways a reader of this kink genre would expect it to be hot. the real hotness comes from the bizarre subversion we get instead, that we just have to kind of accept without any closure or explanation. it’s either an unsexy sex scene, or a sexy not-sex scene. maybe it’s both. either way, it’s insane.

how can i replicate this? 

set up a thing that follows expectations. don’t actually do the thing. do something significantly more insane than the expected thing. do not elaborate on the insane thing, leaving more questions than answers, and move on as if it wasn’t insane at all. this is a good method for not-sex scenes, too.

Laurent, for his part, was relaxed, one arm spread out over the back of the bench.

laurent lean #4

‘I’ll offer for you, if you like. When the time comes. I wouldn’t want you in my bed, but you’d have all the same privileges. You might prefer that. I’d offer.’

context: this is the best possible way laurent can protect nicaise within the confines of their culture. and “you might prefer that”—laurent wants nicaise to be able to foster his intelligence and talents (his "privileges") as a growing person, without having to be a sexual object.

‘He gives them all up,’ said Laurent, ‘even if you’re more enterprising than the others have been.’ ‘He likes me better than the others.’ A scornful laugh. ‘You’re jealous.’ And then it was Nicaise’s turn to react to something he saw in Laurent’s face, and he said, with a horror Damen didn’t understand, ‘You’re going to tell him you want me.’ ‘Oh,’ said Laurent. ‘No. Nicaise . . . no. That would wreck you. I wouldn’t do that.’ Then his voice became almost tired. ‘Maybe it’s better if you think that I would. You have quite a good mind for strategy, to have thought of that. Maybe you will hold him longer than the others.’ For a moment it seemed as if Laurent would say something else, but in the end he just stood up from the bench, and held his hand out to the boy. ‘Come on. Let’s go. You can watch me get told off by my uncle.’

context: nicaise knows that anything laurent wants, his uncle will not let him have. believing that laurent hates him and would offer for him out of spite, nicaise takes the offer is a threat. laurent, who isn’t threatening him at all, realizes that nicaise is right. laurent’s attempts at protection would only get nicaise hurt. the best he can do is banter with the kid and look after him from a distance. this house is a fucking nightmare.

[val-of-the-north]

Wanted to pop in and just say thanks for all your hard work with lore posts! Elden Ring is such a tough game to get a grasp on, leaving so many things up to interpretation. But in the end, there are also things solidly backed by actual lore, and you do such a great job of referencing and adhering to that canon pretty objectively. We all have our biases when we read this info, which leads us into the realm of interpretation. But when posters like you go to lengths to outline canon lore with screencaps and images to back your interpretations up, it's not just helping me see how you reached a conclusion but also laying the info out clearly so I can decide if I agree with that conclusion.

There's a lot of info that gets missed or plain old ignored in favor of either villifying/woobifying characters depending on what people think of them. And then sometimes people make these huge leaps from A to B that are just mystifying and seem to be purely based on "this sounds good to me so it must be right". It's refreshing to see someone trying hard to just present the facts and go from there, without these leaps of faith and desire to change the characters in one direction or another. It's easy to think you're reading things objectively while still clearly interpreting everything with a certain bias that will paint your favs/unfavs in a better/worse light, so your more neutral efforts are a breath of fresh air!

Hey! That's very sweet to find in my inbox... I am glad people appreciate the way I write my lore posts. I strive to be very objective when I tackle these topics, so I am very glad it's noticeable. I still have room for improvement, I will not lie, but I am surely getting better and better! The use of more images in my claims is something I started to pick up on recently, though believe it or not, I used to do it a looooong time ago too, for sillier stories lol. Now they are here to stay though, and they provide a very neat way to space out posts too.

I am honestly really flattered with your words ahahahah. Characters are probably the hardest ones to keep a purely objective lens on, as I do have my own personal opinions and headcanons on them as well as certain events that involve them… regardless, I try my absolute best to not rely too much on those and simply on things I have structured those headcanons after.

Of course, depending on what the lore I am discussing is about, I will be focusing and highlighting particular aspects over others, because I can't make an entire character study every time one is needed. Things would get really bloated and not as understandable really fast! I also avoid fandom tropes like the plague unless I am purposefully making a meme lol. I do dislike when meme/flanderized versions of characters end up popping up in genuine lore analysis (like "absolutely worthless fool" Godrick and "completely irredeemable fiend" Miquella, but there are many more)

To conclude... thank you so much for this! It was certainly a breath of fresh air that I needed too eheh... but I guess since we are talking about lore posts, I could tease that the next thing I wanna tackle has to do with the soul and body in Elden Ring! It's a topic that has fascinated me for some time, and the DLC actually helped me piece together some stuff I had missed from base game! I will try to make it as good as it can possibly be!

[vegan-commie]

this paper is phenomenal. some of my highlights under the cut

… killing in itself is not the problem but the act of rendering whole categories of beings legitimately “killable” (or at any rate exploitable; When Species Meet, 80). This is supported by Wolfe’s argument that the concept of species has the function of legitimising “indirect murder,” in contemporary biopolitical contexts, through framing certain forms of killing as ethically acceptable. Moreover, he suggests that the categorization of certain actors (both human and non-human) as legitimately exploitable on a large scale, which occurs within the agricultural-industrial complex, has acted as a testing ground for the techniques of biopower:

Such practices must be seen not just as political but as in fact constitutively political for biopolitics in its modern form. Indeed the practices of maximizing control over life and death, of ‘making live’, in Foucault’s words, through eugenics, artificial insemination and selective breeding, pharmaceutical enhancement, inoculation and the like, are on display in the modern factory farm as perhaps nowhere else in biopolitical history. (Before the Law, 46

“Species” thus functions to separate actors who are legitimately “killable” from those who are not and, perhaps still more seriously, de-politicizes these acts of killing; making it impossible to ask ethical questions about them. This is deeply problematic for two reasons: firstly, it secures an epistemological mechanism that allows animality to be projected onto certain social groups,whenever it is politically expedient to disregard their rights (as touched on previously); secondly, the failure to understand such acts of killing as political means that it is impossible to disrupt the mechanisms of biopower that enact this killing.

———————-

Wolfe’s argument is thus that meat consumption is bound up with the structures guaranteeing the ipseity of the humanist subject and is contingent on animals being positioned as legitimately “consumable.”

Articulated in a Foucauldian register, carno-phallogocentrism thus refers less to the ritualised sacrifice of animals at the behest of the autonomous subject, and more to the way that meat consumption feeds into the discoursesof the liberal consumer-subject: as a manifestation of the freedom to do (or eat!) whatever this subject wants (as long as it is economically productive).

———-

What is key is that any new delineation of this [ethical] community should not be rigid, but create the necessary conditions for further openness and complexity, echoing Wolfe’s closing argument: “An affirmative biopolitics need not—indeed, as I have argued cannot—simply embrace ‘life’ in all its undifferentiated singularity” (104); instead “we must choose [what to include in the ethical community], and by definition we cannot choose everyone and everything at once. But this is precisely what ensures that, in the future, we will have been wrong” (103). In this light, a material practice (such as veganism) that takes a clearly defined ethical position but, in doing so, denaturalises the epistemological structures that support humanist political subjectivities, is perhaps more open than one that seemingly stays with the trouble” but does not create space for identifying, or critically engaging with, the ethical blind-spots that perpetuate humanist norms and values.

[saiwriting]

Thoughts, Thoughts, Blog #10 😆🥳🎊

Our Parents as People

Saiya Soublet

Being lost is not always a terrible thing, but it sure isn't pleasant either.

Sometimes I think about when this country was first founded. In fact, I think about it a lot. In terms of how we got here. In terms of where we're going. The trip from Jamestown all the way to Manifest Destiny always fascinated me because of the way colonists navigated unfamiliar lands with audacity, tenacity, and violence. Of course, I will never write a piece giving any colonizers their credit or glorifying them in any way, but I do think it's worth studying how exactly they navigated being lost in order to find themselves landing in prosperity. Furthermore, do I even follow their lead to a certain extent, or do I go about it in a way that is more enlightened to the new wave of spirituality we see happening now? Either way, I am lost.

Being lost is not fun. Being lost comes with a haziness that is all pervasive, and the anxiety I get for just being asked What are you doing or What's been going on in your life? is immense and pervasive. I cannot answer that question for you. You just have to trust me in this...what I call life purgatory. The thing is this: I don't even think that this lost period of my life is bad or destructive. I have very strong intuitive feelings that not only will I be successful, but I'll also be successful in a way that does not compromise who I am.

I went home to vote for Election Day, and my mom said something that stuck with me. We were talking about the parts of her personality that she feels that she has passed down to each of her children. Oftentimes I like to think that things like that are genetic in some way. I joked and said that I was the part of her that "likes trees," and she agreed. "You're the part of me that likes to take walks and look at trees and plant things, but you also have my love for eating...so you have to do what you need to do to survive." This statement is true. This statement also frustrated me for a few hours. It isn't new that my mom and I have this unspoken conflict between us that stems from me being so much like her and yet not wanting to lead the life she has lived. At this age, she had her first child and yet I sit here with an IUD that is only 2 years old. We are so much alike and yet our lives could not be taking more different paths, so it seems.

My most recent book has been A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. It's made me think a lot about my relationship with my mother: the person I feel as though I have the most to prove to simply because she is also the one who seems to not see my success as it is at the moment. And then after I fell asleep that night after reading a section regarding the way the ego role-plays (i.e. the role of parent), I had a dream that she died. It made me feel a lot when I woke up in the morning. In the dream, I was heaving in grief; I had never doubted my love for my mother but I also couldn't help but notice how my love for her was always covered in a light layer of resentment that she could never just let me do me. Then, it dawned on me.

Eckhart Tolle does an amazing job at highlighting how shrouded parents get in their parental role as a label of who they are as a person. As we know, the ego is very strong in identity-politics and the countless need to give ourselves labels to legitimize the fact that we even exist. Very strongly do we know who our parents are as Mother or as Father, and even sometimes our siblings as well. How well do we know our parents as people though?

To the dismay of teenage and young-adult me, this fact never sat well. But I never took the time to really understand and navigate who she is as a person and not just as my mom. In this chapter, Tolle makes an incredible point that sometimes resentment is fostered in children-towards their parents-who otherwise have had successful lives because they were missing the opportunity to just have their parents be. All they want is to see their parent as being a person. That stuck with me a lot as I ruminated over how I was even going to be successful on my specific path. All my life I have been closed off and stubborn to the vulnerability that my mother sought to have with me both because she did not know how to go about it well and because I did not know how to go about receiving it. I like to think of myself as her hermit-crab child, the one who is much more closed off than the others and yet the softest on the inside. My mother is like a metaphorical lamp on my path through life that has always been notoriously dim to the point of me not being able to see where I am going. If I could just foster a vulnerable conversation with her to treat said lamp and brighten my path, not only is she brighter of a person but she can also help guide me (even if just through unconditional love and support of how I am choosing to live my life).

Beforehand, I was not ready for that.

It has taken a lot for me not to become frustrated at the same person who simply wants best for me, especially since she can see so much of herself in me, as do I see myself in her, but there are parts of her that I have never seen before that are surely also mirrored but need to be uncovered for the sake of fully knowing where to go from there. Those that birth us and precede us can tell us a miraculous amount of information about ourselves before we even reach that part of our spiritual work, but we have to be willing to stare confidently in the mirror and take them for all that they are. Oftentimes, I think about the generation of our parents and how desperately I can see that they just want to talk. They want someone to listen and open them up to the world that they never had or could understand because their parents had not only stifled themselves but their children out of survival and necessity. Had colonizers reached out to fully understand those that preceded them on the land that they came upon, hell, they wouldn't even be called colonizers anymore. They'd be called colleagues.

As the role of daughter, the egoic instinct is to rebel against any of the failures of my mother and her mother and her mother. I would be better off and much more successful if I just avoid their mistakes. What we neglect to realize, however, is that if in spirit we are all the cosmos and Oneness and the Universe experiencing itself, then those lessons are needed now more than ever or we will be doomed to repeat them. I think the ego does a good job of pointing fingers, even if we think that we are doing the "right" thing. I point fingers at my mother, shaming her for never truly understanding me and for burdening me with what mothers do: worrying, catastrophizing, and making sure that we are not them. But we are them. I am her. We are literally the same Being. In understanding more of my mother, I inherently understand more of myself. Not because I will find the missing secret to capitalize on the rest of my life and reach ultimate success, but instead to be more vulnerable and open to the fullness of life. Why keep hiding who we are, both mother and daughter, when we both know the answer?

I love my mother to death and there is never a time that I observe the ways that this egoic world has influenced and transformed the Truth for her without wanting to fix it. My heart constantly reaches out for understanding from her. I am also not responsible for her awakening. The best I can do is love. The best I can do is be a bridge and an expander of the depths of who she is as Joyce instead of just Mom. And in finally opening up, I clarify my soul to see a much better picture of who we are and who we ought to be: everything.

[stromuprisahat]

Genya was mentioned wearing slippers at least twice('…she looked down at her (satin?) slippers'; '…mud-splattered slippers') while the other characters like Tatiana and Alina wear boots. It would be interesting if Tatiana purposefully only gave Genya indoor slippers so she was stuck at the Grand Palace all the time. Like even if she was allowed to go to the Little Palace it's very hard for her to do it because she literally doesn't have the tools to be among her own kin. It would really highlight Tatiana's isolation and abuse of Genya.

While interesting concept, I think it's more about Genya's position of palace servant, than specific intentions regarding her person.

You don't need boots inside the Palace, and Genya's place is in Queen's service. She's even supposed to sleep in Grand Palace.

(Besides, I don't think Tatiana considers Grisha a community. I don't think she really thinks about them at all, unless they're in front of her salad.)

The Queen does have a party to attend that night. After I’ve changed my mud-spattered slippers and rid myself of the scent of the stables, I find her seated at her dressing table, a maid tending to her hair. ... When I bend to adjust the bows on her [the Queen's] slippers, she absently rests a hand on my shoulder—almost a caress, or maybe a scratch behind the ears. ... I wash my face, take down my hair, toe off my satin slippers so that I can feel the grooves of the cool wood floor beneath my feet.

The Tailor

So we know Tatiana is wearing slippers too. But so is Alina:

I threw off the heavy covers and slid my feet into the little fur-lined slippers set out by the bed. ... In the other boxes on my bed, we found golden silk slippers, glittering jet and gold earrings, and a thick fur muff. ... She examined the toes of her satin slippers.

Shadow and Bone- Chapters 8 & 14

Those are two occasions. Once when she's in her own room, once when she's preparing for the Winter Fete- celebration held inside the Palace. Otherwise she's wearing boots:

In a few moments, I was dressed in a clean tunic and trousers, soft leather boots, and a gray coat. With disappointment, I realized it was just a clean version of my army uniform.  ... When I opened the door, a servant was waiting with a stack of clothing, a pair of boots, and a dark blue kefta draped over her arm. ... But to call them boots didn’t seem right. I’d owned boots. These were something else entirely, made of the softest black leather and fitted perfectly to my calves.

Shadow and Bone- Chapters 6 & 8

Second Army has high-quality boots for every day, but boots nevertheless. Shoes to work and fight in.

Once more we see Alina in slippers:

If it had been winter, I would have been wearing boots, but I was in summer slippers and his fingers closed over my bare leg. 

Siege and Storm- Chapter 11

... when she's on Nikolai's election campaign, therefore in representative clothes, not battle-ready. Or running-ready.

And once more Genya- on the ship in second book she has true SA uniform:

She sighed and studied the toes of her boots. “I missed you,” she said.

Siege and Storm- Chapter 2

Which could mean she got them only once out of the Queen's influence, but also once she's out in the field.

There's also a mention of spring slippers Alina wore in the orphanage, so I assume those are ordinary light shoes for when you don't need to protect your feet too much.

Or when you're supposed to flaunt the fact you're not in need of solid footwear, either as a rich person, or their household servant (Genya, or even Grisha being showed-off once a year).

It's like making those in your service wear white adorned with gold. It shows you can afford to dress them that way, and they have it better than some ordinary peasants or no need to wear practical stuff (so it's a job to kill for).

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Seeing a black hole's jet in a new light

Research led by the University of Michigan has pored over more than two decades' worth of data from NASA's Chandra X-Ray Observatory to show there's new knotty science to discover around black holes.

In particular, the study looks at the high-energy jet of particles being blasted across space by the supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy Centaurus A. 

Jets are visible to different types of telescopes, including those that detect radio waves and others that collect X-rays. Since Chandra's 1999 launch, many astronomers have been particularly interested in the unexpectedly bright X-ray signals from jets.

Still, it appeared that X-ray observations were essentially capturing the same features as their more established radio counterparts, which isn't the most exciting outcome.

Jets are massive cosmic structures—some are larger than their host galaxies—that still harbor many mysteries. If a jet looks the same to different instruments, that doesn't do any favors for the folks working to unravel these astrophysical puzzles.

"A key to understanding what’s going on in the jet could be understanding how different wavelength bands trace different parts of the environment," said lead author David Bogensberger, a postdoctoral fellow at U-M. "Now we have that possibility."

The new study is the latest entry in a small but growing body of research that's digging deeper into data to spot subtle, meaningful differences between radio and X-ray observations.

"The jet in X-rays is different from the jet in radio waves," Bogensberger said. "The X-ray data traces a unique picture that you can't see in any other wavelength."

Bogensberger and an international team of colleagues published their findings in The Astrophysical Journal.

In its study, the team looked at Chandra's observations of Centaurus A from 2000 to 2022. Or, more accurately, Bogensberger developed a computer algorithm to do that. The algorithm tracked bright, lumpy features in the jet, which are called knots. By following knots that moved during the observation period, the team could then measure their speed.

The speed of one knot was particularly remarkable. In fact, it appeared to be moving faster than the speed of light because of how it moves relative to Chandra's vantage point near Earth. The distance between the knot and Chandra shrinks almost as fast as light can travel.

The team determined the knot's actual speed was at least 94% the speed of light. A knot in a similar location had previously had its speed measured using radio observations. That result clocked the knot with a significantly slower speed, about 80% the speed of light. 

"What this means is that radio and X-ray jet knots move differently," Bogensberger said.

And that wasn't the only thing that stood out from the data.

For example, radio observations of knots suggested the structures closest to the black hole move the fastest. In the new study, however, Bogensberger and his colleagues found the fastest knot in a sort of middle region—not the farthest from the black hole, but not the nearest to it either.

"There’s a lot we still don’t really know about how jets work in the X-ray band. This highlights the need for further research," Bogensberger said. "We've shown a new approach to studying jets and I think there's a lot of interesting work to be done."

For his part, Bogensberger will be using the team's approach to examine other jets. The jet in Centaurus A is special because it's the closest jet we know of at about 12 million light years away. This relative proximity made it a good first option for testing and validating the team's methodology. Features like knots become more challenging to resolve in jets that are farther away.

"But there are other galaxies where this analysis can be done," Bogensberger said. "And that's what I plan to do next."

[ghoulsstolemyheart]

Let Me Love You

Copia/fem reader, light angst, body worship, praise kink, blowjobs, anal fingering, pegging, light fem-dom, sub Copia

Papa doesn’t always feel great about himself, which is where you come in. Tonight, when you pull your beloved to bed, you will remind him exactly how much you love him.

3.5k words

“Cara mia, do you think I need some more work done?” 

Copia had been in the en suite for a while, the harsh fluorescent light highlighted the creases and wrinkles on his face as he stared himself down in the mirror. You frowned and pushed the covers back, climbing out of bed to stand in the bathroom doorway. He always got like this after a tour. For years he’d been the butt of the clergy’s jokes and he thought that they would stop after he became Papa. They didn’t. Then he got the surgeries and his concerns became more about whether or not the crowds found him more appealing.

The harsh chemical smell of his hair dye stung your nose even after he’d finished washing it out, the bottle sitting on the counter still radiating the ammonia smell. You watched him raise his eyebrows and study the lines on his forehead before pulling his hairline back in an attempt to smooth them out. He stretched the skin at his temples and watched his crows feet shift. It pained you to know he thought he had to get more procedures done for him to have any worth.

“A little botox couldn’t hurt, right?” His voice was quiet and there was a sadness to it that made your heart shatter.

“Copia, stop that. You don’t need anything done.”

He turned his head to meet your gaze, hands slowly moving away from his face to hang in the air in front of him. You took them in your own and turned him around to you properly.

“I just want to look my best, take care of myself, you know?” He trailed off as he looked back at his reflection but you reached up to hold his face so he was looking at you again.

“Listen to me, you don’t need to go under the knife every time you get in your own head about how you look. Remember how long it took you to get used to your face last time?”

Memories of him standing wide eyed in front of the bathroom mirror as he stared at his bruised and tender face, bandages removed a little too early by curious fingers. How he had winced the first time he touched his new nose, both from how tender it was and from the fact it didn’t feel like his anymore. He’d spent forty-odd years being told how much he looked like his mother, that he’d inherited her nose, now they looked nothing alike and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. You had found him staring at himself like that a few times, eyes following himself as he turned his head every which way so he could familiarise himself with it. One night, after a long day of especially cruel teasing from some of the siblings, you walked in on him staring himself down, tears streaming down his face as he braced himself against the sink. He sobbed into your shoulder, mourning his old identity and desperately wishing he hadn’t gone through with the surgery. You wouldn’t let him end up like that again.

“Forget what you think the clergy and the audiences want from you. Forget what you deem not good enough. What matters is that I love you, wrinkles and all.”

He sighed and relaxed into your touch, reaching up to gently hold your wrists.

“I know tesoro, I know.” There was that sadness again.

You leaned forward and began peppering his face with kisses, pressing your lips to every wrinkle and line you could find. Forehead, cheeks, the corners of his eyes, the lines around his lips from all the cigarettes over the years. You didn’t stop until he was a grinning giggling mess, the sound of his laughter devoid of any cynicism and instead just pure joy.

“Okay!” He laughed, “okay, amore, you’ve proved your point.”

“I don’t know, love, I think there’s a few that I’ve missed.” You mumbled between kisses, slowly moving your way from his laugh lines down to his jaw. One of your hands tangled in his hair and you tugged on it lightly, encouraging him to tip his head back and give you better access to his throat. You heard him breathe a shaky sigh and it made you a little weak in the knees. The knowledge that he was melting under your touch was almost too much for you. 

“Amore, you don’t have to worry about me.” Copia’s throat vibrated under your lips as he spoke and you managed to pull yourself away to look him in the eye.

“I love you, it’s my job to worry.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips followed by another and another until Copia’s tongue came out to lick across your bottom lip before sliding into your mouth. His hands had found their way to your waist, gently rubbing up and down your sides and making your pyjama shirt lift up, exposing your stomach to the chilly night air. The warmth of the fireplace didn’t quite reach the bathroom and you felt goosebumps come out across your skin.

Things were getting heated and you wanted to remind Copia that you were going to be the one pleasuring him tonight. You started to lean back and he followed your lips as you stepped backwards to the bed, hands in his hair as you guided him. He couldn’t help the little whine that escaped him when you pulled away for real, looking at you with pleading eyes as you swapped places with him, pushing him onto the mattress with a palm flat against his chest. You loved letting Copia take out his frustrations on you after a long day, but sometimes he needed to be on the receiving end.

He moved further up the bed, never taking his eyes off of you as you crawled towards him until you were straddling his hips and caging him into the mattress with your body. You almost melted when one of his hands cupped your cheek, the reverent way he looked up at you making your head spin.

“Cara mia-“

You cut him off with a finger against his lips.

“Let me show you how beautiful you are.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but you could tell by the look in his eyes and the way he nodded that Copia heard you loud and clear.

You started with more kisses, moving across from his lips to his jaw and down his neck where your mouth made him sigh as you sucked a mark into the skin. His hands rested comfortably on your hips and you couldn’t help noticing the way he held you against him, his cock starting to harden already from the way you touched him. Your own hands had been firm on his shoulders as you pinned him against the mattress, finally traveling down to slip under the hem of his t-shirt before you leaned back and started tugging it up over his torso revealing the trail of grey hair that drove you crazy. You rocked your hips a little as you moved back to let him sit up, helping you get the shirt over his head and flinging it across the room. Copia moaned into your mouth as you kissed him again, your arms wrapping around to hold him against you.

“These too,” you mumbled against his lips as you played with the drawstrings on his sweatpants, “these need to go.”

You climbed off of him for a moment so he could lift his hips and pull them off, freeing his semi and giving you a good look at the rest of his happy trail as it drew your eye down to his length. Copia blushed a little as you knelt at his feet and took in the sight before you, he loved the attention but he was too self conscious to believe that he deserved it sometimes.

“There, that’s better.” 

Copia looked up at you with more than a hint of embarrassment as you slid your hands up and down his shins.

“Can I see you too, amore?” He asked, his voice small and unsure as if it were your first time together all over again and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

You pulled your shirt up slowly and breathed a little laugh when you heard him stifle a moan when he finally saw your tits. Sometimes you couldn’t believe how worked up he got at just the sight of you, but then you would get the same way watching him perform, teasing that damn mic stand, and you understood.

By the time you were fully undressed, going nice and slow to give him the best view of everything you had to offer despite him knowing your body like the back of his hand, Copia’s cock was hard and glistening with precum. You began to slide your hands up his legs again, this time stoping at his knees as you gripped them and gently pushed them up as you urged his legs apart. He let out the most beautiful whimpers as you kissed your way up his inner thigh, mumbling against his skin about how much you loved those thighs, whining when you pulled away just before you reached the base of his cock.

“And you see this?” you said softly as you gestured to your own body, “this belongs to you, Papa. Only you.”

Copia groaned at your use of his title. It always sounded so lewd on your tongue, even when you weren’t in the bedroom the sound of it in your voice made him crazy. One of his hands moved down to palm at himself but you seized his wrist and pulled it away.

“Uh uh, no touching. I’m the one that’s doing all the touching tonight, remember?”

“Sì, sorella.” He sounded breathless as he sighed his words, completely infatuated with you as you knelt between his legs. You continued your teasing and grinned as you eked out more of those little noises from Copia, your fingers trailing up from his hips across his chest until you reached his nipples, pinching them and earning yourself a groan. He bucked his hips up into you, desperate for some kind of friction, and you could feel him spreading precum on your lower stomach with every thrust. Your hands shot back down to his hips and you pinned him to the mattress. Copia gave you a desperate little whine that made you want to tease him all night long. Anything to hear that noise again.

“Be patient,” you chided, “I want to appreciate every part of you. Thoroughly.”

Copia’s head fell back against the pillows as you began to press more kisses to his chest, following that line of hair down to his stomach. You knew how he felt about his stomach, always saying it stuck out too much when he would wear those beautifully tight suits. Personally, you had no idea where he got that from, but you understood how easy it was to hate your body when the people around you never had a kind word to say. He hid his face behind his arms, crossing them over his eyes and whimpering when you smoothed your hands up from his hips and over his stomach, kissing up from the base of his cock to his navel. You squeezed the little love handles above his hips for good measure. 

“I fucking love how soft you are.” You purred, stroking your thumbs across his hips.

“Amore, please.”

Copia was breathless at this point, taking in ragged gasps with every kiss and nip of your teeth as you made your way back to his thighs.

“And these fucking thighs,” you held the outside of his right thigh while pressing little kisses to the sensitive inner skin, completely ignoring how he begged you. “I could just sink my teeth into them.”

So you did. Copia whined above you and bucked his hips as you bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a beautiful red-purple mark. You admired your work for a moment, tracing the slowly blooming bruise with the tip of a finger and making your lover squirm.

“Amore, I’m begging you, please!”

“Please what? You’re gonna have to be specific, love.” You ran the same finger tip up the underside of his cock, slowly, stopping just before you reached the tip.

“Please fuck me!” He gasped. “Oh, please amore, please.”

You smiled and pushed yourself up on your elbows to look at him, sweat beading on his forehead, and decided he had enough teasing. Taking his cock in your hand, you made eye contact with him before doing anything else.

“You look so pretty when you’re desperate.”

With that, you took the glistening tip into your mouth and swirled your tongue around it a few times, that desperate little whine escaping his lips again. It took every ounce of his willpower for Copia not to grab you by the hair and force himself down your throat. Instead, he fisted his hands in the sheets near his head, continuing with his whining as you slowly bobbed your head up and down, taking in more and more of him with each movement. One of your hands was wrapped firmly around his thigh, while the other reached down past his cock to tease his hole. He had begged you to fuck him, and you would take any opportunity given to you to use the strap-on in your bedside drawer. 

Copia squirmed when you made slow circles around his hole, still bobbing your head up and down his cock. You released him with a wet pop, only for a moment, swirling your tongue around your finger before bringing it back to his asshole. All you could hear was Copia’s long shuddering sigh as you pushed your finger into him while slowly taking his cock as deep as possible without gagging. He arched his back and stifled his moans with a fist between his teeth. The combined stimulation, especially when you started to slowly move in and out of him, was almost too much. You could tell he was trying so hard not to cum so soon. His breathing was deep and shuddering and you glanced up to see his face scrunched in the same frown he pulled when he was focusing on something, teeth locked on his hand and eyes screwed shut. You sunk down on his cock until he was against the back of your throat and moaned, cruel and yet so wonderfully stimulating, the vibrations in your throat made Copia groan. 

You gagged yourself, forcing him deeper than you knew you could handle, before coming up for air and resuming your ministrations. Copia started writhing beneath you, hips bucking wildly into your mouth as you brought him to his orgasm. 

“C-cazzo, amore!” He cried out as he released himself straight down your throat and you swallowed desperately, determined not to let a single drop of him escape you. You slowed your thrusts as he rode out the shockwaves of his orgasm, moving your hand lazily until he was a panting, whining mess.

“Thank you cara mia, ti amo.” He breathed as you kissed your way back up his body.

“I love you too, but I’m not finished yet.” 

“You’re not?”

You gave Copia a devilish smile before climbing off of him and crawling over to your side of the bed to dig around in your bedside cabinet. His eyes went wide as you pulled out your strap-on and a bottle of lube.

“Oh, cara,” he sighed, “you will be the death of me.”

You grinned and stepped off the bed, wrapping the harness around your hips and making sure it was secured tightly enough. Copia watched you walk around to the foot of the bed and beckon him to you with a finger.

“Come,” you instructed and he crawled towards you with a needy expression on his face. “Suck.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, wrapping his lips around the sleek black dildo and hollowing his cheeks. Copia always treated your toys as if they were a real part of your body, working them as you worked him and with just as much enthusiasm. He moaned around the silicone and you could feel yourself grow wetter at just the sight of him on his hands and knees for you, moaning with your strap in his mouth.

“Good boy, get it nice and wet.” You cooed. Your fingers carded through his tousled hair and he whined at the praise. 

Once you were satisfied, you pulled his head off of you with a hand twisted in his hair. Copia came away red faced and drooling. Such a beautiful sight. You had him lie back with his ass at the edge of the mattress, hands stroking up his thighs and encouraging him to open his legs further. Despite how wet he’d gotten your strap-on, you spread some lube over it for good measure, stroking it just to get Copia all hot and bothered.

With a single quick thrust, you sunk into Copia up to the hilt causing him to cry out your name in the most beautifully desperate voice.

“Much better than my fingers, huh?” You whispered in his ear and Copia nodded vigorously. “You deserve to feel good.”

You thrust into him again after that statement, making him lurch forwards and clutch at your arm while trying to hold himself up with the other hand. You braced yourself by grabbing hold of the canopy post beside you and started fucking your lover at a brutal pace. The harness rubbed against your throbbing clit and you moaned quietly. Copia looked so pretty as you pounded into him, oversensitive and blushing, and you made sure he knew it. You cupped his cheek and told him how much you loved him, how good it felt to fuck him, how beautiful he looked arching his back for you. Every word that fell from your lips was like ambrosia, nourishing Copia’s bruised ego and reassuring him that, yes, you did indeed love him and no, none of it was a lie or some cruel trick. You hunched over to plant your hands either side of him on the bed, scrunching the delicate silk sheets in your fists as you fucked into him even harder, grinding against the harness to get as much friction on your end as possible. Copia had started to get hard again from your pounding and his erection bounced against his stomach with the force of your relentless thrusts. 

You couldn’t help yourself. The sight of his cock already hard again and glistening with precum was just too enticing. Copia gasped as you took hold of him, stroking while you continued to thrust into him.

“Look at you, so irresistible. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Hng- amore, amore I don’t think I can last much longer.” He panted. You felt your own orgasm swiftly approaching, so easily coming undone at the sight before you.

“Don’t hold back, my love. Show me what I do to you.”

You jerked him even faster, your thumb firmly rubbing over his slit before each downstroke and making his back arch even further, providing the perfect angle for you to hit that sweet spot inside him. He began to spasm, hips thrusting up into your fist, and soon enough he was cursing at the top of his lungs as he came across your hand and stomach. But you didn’t slow down. You still had to finish. 

Copia’s whines grew even more desperate as you continued to fuck into him, rolling your hips as you ground against the harness. You joined him as you felt the white hot pleasure burning in your stomach, moaning with each spark of stimulation. When you finally came you struggled to hold yourself upright, doubling over as you gripped Copia’s thighs. 

You pulled out of him with a slick pop and unclipped the harness before crawling onto the bed with him, pulling Copia into your arms as you leaned back against the headboard.

“Thank you, amore.” Copia said again, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You smiled and played with his hair as you held him.

“You don’t have to thank me every time, Copia.”

“I’m not thanking you for the sex, as good as it was.” He lifted his head to look at you. “I’m thanking you for staying with me. For loving me even when I do not love myself.”

You reached out to cup his cheek and pull him into a soft, sentimental kiss.

“I’ll always love you. For the rest of my life, no matter what.” Your words were almost lost between you as you spoke against Copia’s mouth. You could feel him smiling as he pressed another kiss to your lips before tucking his head back into your neck where he stayed for the rest of the night.

[angstyfandom]

"I hope find happiness with me."

So like, I was writing a pt 2 to my Simeon smut for the brothers and I got 4 of the brothers parts done and it was great and I was proud...and I accidentally deleted it so I'm crushed and idk if I can do it all over again so sorry if that never comes

Bro I need some Satan fluff in my life right now. I can't remember which event it was but stuff was happening to the brothers, some kind of curse or smth, and Satan's first reaction is to make sure we are okay, like bro loves us so much. My angry boy needs some softness.

Summary: Satan needs to wake you up because he had agreed to tutor you for RAD's final exams, but you aren't to keen on leaving bed quite yet.

Warnings: None. Super fluffy, giggling and twirling of hair ensue.

Satan never really enjoyed giving up his study time to help his brothers, but you weren't his brothers. You were like this small kitten, in need of assistance and he would always cave. A few days prior you had approached Satan and requested that he help you study a bit more for the exam that Diavolo had thrown upon you and the other exchange students.

Unfortunately both of your schedules were very busy with the school year ending, so the study session had to start before and after school. You are not a morning person by any means. You're similar to Belphie in the way you stay glued to your sheets, and yet here Satan is, bright and early, in your room. His solemn expression spoke volumes, watching you curl further into your blankets, hearing his footsteps enter your room. You looked so peaceful and warm, he didn't want to wake you.

He couldn't stop himself from staring at your shaded figure, the sunrise peeking in through your curtains. The way the soft orange and red light laid gently upon your features made his heart skip a beat. He swiftly knocked himself out of the small enchantment you had put over him and approach your bed, his hand gliding over your shoulder, gently shaking you to wake up.

Satan felt the warmth spread to his cheeks as your sleepy eyes opened to gaze up at him. Nothing could have made his chest flutter the way seeing you smiling at him did, first thing in the morning, floating on the cusp of sleep. He was the first thing you saw, and your smile resonated with how content you were with that fact.

He couldn't stop himself from gently moving your messy hair from your face, to see you more clearly "You need to wake up, you're the one who asked me to study, now, don't make it so I got out of bed for nothing." Satan's low voice rang in your ears but you were so comfortable. The whimper that escaped from your lips, that followed his attempt to wake you, left a conflicting feeling Satan's stomach. You buried yourself further into the blankets, as if the blonde demon wasn't even there. You heard a deep sigh escape his throat before he lifted the side of your blanket and poked his head in.

"MC...."

"Join me then...." You murmured, catching the poor boy off guard. "W-What? Oi, Don't just say things like that!" Satan remarked, defensively. "Sataaan~" you whined tiredly, patting the empty space next to you on the bed. "If you don't want to have gotten out of bed so early for nothing, then just join me in here...studying...wait." You yawned, yanking weakly at his sweater. You were surprised to feel the bed bouncing lightly and a warm figure taking its place next to you. You felt Satan's arm wrap underneath you, pulling you closer to his chest, his chin resting against the top of your head.

You sleepily gazed up at him with a wicked smile on your lips "See? Not...so hard..." You yawned, placing a lazy kiss onto his cheek. Satan seemed tense from the kiss, his cheeks still a dark shade of red, highlighting his flustered state. In the moment it was working but he does realize you had been messing with him from the beginning and had no intentions of getting out of bed.

As if he felt a burst of courage, he comfortably rested his body against yours, gently cupping your cheeks and placing a long, hard kiss on your lips. This intimate display of affection was unexpected and uncharacteristic of Satan to do something in the spur of the moment. Not that's he's always calculated but he takes great care to have control over what and when it happens.

Now you were awake and alert, the kiss leaving a warm fluttering in your chest, you're cheeks were now red. Satan seemed satisfied with his work and buried his face into the crook of your neck, snoozing until Lucifer came to drag you to breakfast. Bastard..