#it's the idea that every move you make is pointing in the same direction regardless of how you do it

[enjoyvoidblack]

Something that I don't think I've ever personally seen talked about:

Jon mentions in season 3 that he'd quit smoking for 5 years, prior to the cigarette he went for after hearing the Fears explained by Leitner. It's not hard to assume that the stress makes him start again, and that it continues, since it gets mentioned a couple times more after that. That breaks my heart a bit on its own already.

But the other thing is that the Web tends to play with addiction.

And in Season 1 it gave him a fucking lighter.

[kooyabooya]

HIERARCHY

dahyun x m reader

9k words

(shoutout to @passingnotions for allowing me to adapt this idea <3)

“I have her here waiting at the desk if you’re ready to see her, sir.” 

“Perfect. Send her up.” 

It’s peculiar for these kinds of rumors to circulate given her status - and even when the sounds of her heels click off against the polished tiles and get gradually louder; until she steps past the open door and into the oval office, you still can’t put together why she’s a controversial topic in the first place. 

“I’m glad that we can finally have this arrangement,” you say, glancing over the more she makes her presence known, “Overseer.”  

-

It’s as simple as it sounds: 

She’s the regulator. You’re the higher-up. It’s your job to assess, determine, and take action. 

And the roles exist for a reason, and every system has its necessary balance. Nobody gets out of line, and nobody ever questions the orders that come from the superiors. Everything feels right in its place, between the people and where this institution stands, but there’s one catch that you’ve sought yourself to see out personally, after hearing some peculiar commentary building up with various faculty members.

This very woman standing in your quarters exudes this infectious aura that sweeps up the whole room. In the case of the students, it would send a chill down their spine, get a few beads of sweat to form in the palms of their hands and foreheads - a quick breath beneath their lips as they tense up because despite not being the main person in trouble, and she makes them feel that way regardless. 

“I would like to know why you asked to see me in the first place,” she says, face stoic as she settles into the seat, gaze locked with yours, “Hopefully this isn’t about what we discussed the other time, is it?” 

Something in the way that she sits, and how the two-piece set of her dress rests along the line of her shoulders, how her eyes dart through yours when you’ve caught yourself staring a bit longer than expected. Make the goosebumps along your arms stand up underneath the sleeves. 

“It’s partly that,” you answer, pinching the edge of your cuff, hoping to divert the attention of death staring in your direction. “Among other things.” 

“Meaning what, sir?” 

Breaking eye contact, the formality alone snaps some composure into you. To recap: you’ve been in and out of meetings all day, talking about future plans to implement amongst the student body and faculty; then there was some discrepancies that was dealt with from past incidents brought to your desk, but the common thread from these accounts all pointed to the same thing: 

“It’s about your recent-” the pause alone of the intended word hanging between your lips makes the Overseer puzzled about this discussion (though with the implications through the reports sitting on your desk, tell a different tale). 

“-modes of conduct.” You tell her, which only earns a quirked eyebrow and a nod, signaling that you’re right. “I’m sure you’ve heard what’s been going around between the other staff members and what not, Dahyun.” 

Even the name alone sometimes sends chills to your body. Overseer Kim Dahyun: the academy’s best instructor. Lead figure when it comes to dishing out disciplinary measures to those who were stupid enough to go against the rules. Once she has someone that’s out of order, it’s automatically assured that there won’t be any further incidents coming from them moving on. You’ve looked at the written reports, noticed that there’s nothing worth putting against someone like her with the reputation that she carries, but no one ever really stays perfect for this long. 

“So tell me, Superior,” Dahyun begins, one leg over the other in her chair while you continue with the glacial pacing around the office, “What is it that you have heard about me, circling around with the other staff in the past weeks?” 

“I guess it’s mainly the latter, the ‘forms’ of discipline you’ve been committing with various students.” 

“What about them?” 

“That's the reason why I’m having this discussion with you in the first place.” 

Dahyun tilts her head down, eyes wandering the opposite direction, reflecting almost as her mind tries to piece the different shards of information rummaging about in her head. She’s one to not leave anything unchecked - down to the minute detail possible. Intricate in the way that she does her line of work, and meticulous with how she wants things to be done. She also gets along well with others to which they speak highly of her. You wouldn’t want to call these accounts ‘accusations’; not yet, until you’ve seen both ends of the scope before drawing up a solid conclusion. 

She turns her head around to see you at the tray table next to the door, tending to the two glasses of water before a wave to the keypad locks the deadbolt into place, to ensure privacy and know that someone will eventually knock without even going to the front desk in the first place. “This is a first for me, especially coming from you, questioning my methods.” 

“I don’t see what you mean,” you tell her, making peace with the glass in your left hand to which she accepts, “I’m only aware of the stories that were told in recent weeks.” Dahyun acknowledges with a sip, eyes still trained on you now on the other side of your desk, “Let this be a simple conversation between you and I, please.” 

“Okay then,” she remarks, handing back the empty glass once she’s done with it, “I’ll ask this again: What is it that you’ve heard about me that caused this whole debacle in the first place?” 

Her look shifts up, maintaining her posture, hands resting on her lap. There’s a few strands in her hair that look out of place, but most of it is neatly tied up in the bun hanging low behind her head. She knows that she holds this sort of entitlement, this status - even from the glances alone in all sorts of seriousness tell you not to mess with a woman like her if you were a student. 

But you’re not. 

The lift from her eyebrows, above the upper rims of her glasses, prompting you to answer. It’s all in your head, right there, the only problem is how the delivery is going to hit her. You have every right to feel bad to be the bearer of not-so-good news, but it’s the part of the job, and the more you stand there in silence with her looking up waiting for a reply, adds on the slow building tension in the room. 

You’re reminded however, of the actions she committed. 

“We have an issue, technically it’s not really an issue, yet.” Dahyun’s gaze twists at that, but it isn’t a look of clear confusion, moreso thrown off at the very topic of discussion. She scoffs, slightly amused, and you can’t blame her for giving that reaction. “Though it’s been brought to my attention in the past few days.” 

And in terms of issues, there’s hardly any throughout the academy; thanks to the dedication towards molding the best and brightest students into civilized beings for the real world. Most of these incidents come at a scarce occurrence alone - but it still happens even if it’s an ordinary day throughout the week. 

She blinks twice, maybe thrice, turns her head away, fixated on the edge of the desk still. Her hands mold together with a small unease, but she still looks empathetic with how her eyelids flutter in the small lines of breaking light past the windows. 

“So say it then,” she says, tone flat - like in her lectures or when having a one-on-one conversation with a troubled student outside the hallways, “since you’re always so on top of the loop with the faculty here.” 

The prompting. It’s so on brand for her to be like this - to set someone else up as a way for them to keep their attention, carrying on with the conversation till she finally has that satisfaction with the answer. There’s some admiration for her, in the way that she doesn’t back down from a disagreement, because she’ll always see it through no matter what the circumstance may be. It’s her strength, and also her weakness, but she’s good enough to not let it show on her face. 

At some point you were afraid of her, something that you can admit to yourself from a long while ago. Not a lot of people at the academy even really liked her because she’s extremely intimidating, and that still seems to be the case now. Though, with all of the different events spread out across the place, some of the roses were given in her effort to come out of her shell which she takes your encouragement. It’s in those rare moments where she laughs or smiles, like a blue moon passing in the night sky. 

You remember the task at hand, what needs to be done. 

“It’s about the students,” you tell her, air slipping through your upper lip as a way of preparation, “I’ve been told by a few individuals that you’ve been having an affair with one of them.” 

“What!?” 

“This is all just speculation,” you say, settling into your chair as Dahyun keeps her posture upright and composed, “Hence you being here to tell me your side of the story so that we can try to line up the two different perspectives together.” 

“That’s what this is about?” 

“Dahyun.” That sense of professionalism has to be cared for. An eye to the desk to the few different reports that insinuate a wrongful framing; some of them were just verbal accounts and had to be on the record, but the whistleblower tip in the form of a post-it note already caused quite a stir around the teachers lounge. 

“All of this is unbelievable.” She plucks her glasses away from her face, catching a few wisps fall out from their spot on the top of her head, clearly irritated. “I have- I have not. In no way those accusations are true.” 

You pull your lips inward, trying to be sympathetic as much as possible in addition to being transparent. Her eyes darted back at yours, fully interested as to what you might say next. She expects an answer, and you’ll give it to her, but all you do is raise an eyebrow to where she scrunches her eyes in response. 

“Are you sure?” To that, Dahyun rolls her eyes. You notice a quick pull from one of the corners of her lip, shuffling the small stack of files off to the side, leaning closer with both elbows on the wood. “I hope you realize that if you are withholding information from me, it can lead to harsher consequences.” 

Dahyun clasps her hand to a fist, face still as stone as you watch her eyes sweep across the floor. A heavy bundle of air leaves your chest, keeping your gaze locked to her, waiting for an answer within the next moments or so. She knows that she can’t shy away from this, and she knows that the only direction to take is the one where truth is the sole passage. It’s also very interesting the way she doesn’t falter, sheltering her emotions inside. You’ve only seen her be the opposite of that - only once, a spell ago, and you were convinced that it was only a one time thing. The silence seems to get louder in the room, and she finally shifts her eyes back to you. 

“Well?” you ask, to break the tension a bit, “You’re not my enemy here. I just want you to be as open and honest as possible.” 

You can see the slightest clench at the bottom of her jaw, gritting her teeth behind her lips. There’s that thought of clear common sense, telling you that what she did was wrong, but that’s just one side of the story. Sure, that someone who created the rumor might’ve done it out of spite, or maybe they wanted to see Dahyun in a state of panic just for the fun of it. Some will say one thing, and others will say another. The only way that you’ll know for sure to make all of this go away is the personal statement directly from her. 

“Overseer.” You huff, sighing out of pure annoyance.

Her brows crunch in response to the title. 

“I need to know. That’s all I’m requesting of you right now.” 

She sets herself square on the seat, facing you; she’s matching your height now in a sitting position, but despite the lack in length is replaced with the demeanor that she carries. There’s been some sort of competition thrown around by the students, talking about how Dahyun’s figure comes second to none with the likes of Jihyo or Mina to name a few. Gawking at the fellow staff members who caught wind of the conversation is what you give them, and it would take a metric fuck-ton of persuading to spill an answer out of your lips. 

Still no answer from her as of this second. 

“Overseer Dahyun,” voice now in a much lower register than usual to punctuate the gravity of the situation, “We don’t have all day; so either you fess up now, or I’ll carry on this conversation tomorrow if I’m not going to get it out of you today.” 

Running her upper lip inward, you carry on with the scattered paperworks spread across the desk as she contemplates, unwilling to make eye contact with her while she keeps her eyes focused on you. By all expectations, you were hoping that this meeting would be quick and easy; just get the required information before writing up a report and be on your way. Still, you can’t help but think as to why she’s being so reluctant about saving her status let alone her job - all because she didn't do something that had very little significance to her and became such a big deal. 

“Fine,” you say, slapping the pen lightly on the desk before beginning to stand up from the chair, “Just forget that I asked and you can-” 

“One.” she finally says, after what felt like an eternity it seems. And then again, “One.” 

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” you start, falling back onto the seat; Dahyun collects herself with the subtle rise and fall of her chest, breathing carefully. That crucial first step was already taken, and the plan in your mind to diminish this whole controversy is slowly scaffolding into place. “So I’ll ask this once again in a different way: Are you having an affair with one of the students in the academy?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is it…just the one?” 

“Just the one.” 

Despite how this information may be shocking to a degree, composure has to be kept from this point on. You’re just simply doing your job as the superior, and if this doesn’t get solved quickly, there’s more people in higher places than you that will do what you couldn’t. 

“So,” you set yourself up for the next connecting inquiry, “I want a full explanation for this, as to when and how all of this came to be.” 

Dahyun licks her lips, unsure if what she’ll say next will either be her saving grace or a shortsighted opportunity breeding on disappointment. You can easily tell that she’s uneasy, and it’s very impressive at how she’s able to keep an expressionless face for an instance like this. Put anyone else that works here in her seat and situation, they’d all panic or break a sweat pleading for an appeal to save their own skin. To hell with the fading wish for an interesting day every few weeks or so - because this potential scandal might make the whole week or even the whole year. 

“Alright,” she relaxes, finally letting her body release all of the tension while she flutters her eyes back to you, “For the record, he came to me. It was-” a quick look to the side before subduing the sudden impulse coursing through her neck, “It was supposed to be a simple form of disciplinary action. A one time thing. Had him serve the correction and be on his way. Though, you’re very familiar with, well- you know, the methodology.” 

“I see, and it took you that long to tell your side of the story??” Swallowing the small lump in your throat growing as her eyes fail to leave yours. “But let me guess, he-” 

“He wanted to see me. Actually, he wanted to keep seeing me. I asked him as to why one day, and he was just fascinated with the approach that I do; he just wanted the pleasure for himself and as for me, I reveled in the satisfaction of taking advantage of him.” 

“And you found it to be completely appropriate for this little entanglement to keep on happening?” 

Dahyun then leans forward, and thank Christ you managed to save your wandering eyes from leering a second too late at the overflowing swarm of pale thighs ballooning on the cushion as more and more skin is revealed at the help of that tight light blue dress getting hiked up with the press of her legs. The inquisitive angle of her head at the given question, letting a stray wisp of her hair fall from the side before she drags it back behind the cuff of her ear. “So what are you saying?”

“Well, I’m the one who asked you first,” you answer, twiddling the pen around your fingers, maintaining eye contact with her. “Besides, I’m also not the one stuck in the middle of this debacle in the first place anyway.” 

She sighs, head cocked back, almost vexed that this meeting has gone way longer than intended. You could’ve waited until after hours once all of the students had left the campus, but this was also the best possible convenient time because of the gap in her schedule during the regular day. Her lips stay shut, the soft tick of the clock mounted on the wall keeps on going. Maybe raising a white flag in the means of things might be better for today, and you’ll pick up where you left off tomorrow. 

Most days don’t often go this way. Aside from the usual responsibilities throughout the typical day whether it would be out your desk or out and about peeping in different classrooms, you’re slightly ecstatic for the sudden change in pace around these halls. “I digress,” you say, leaning forward before finally carrying on,  “So as your superior, Overseer, I’ll leave it off with this. Do you have anything else left to say before I draft up a report for all of the parties affected?” 

Dahyun crosses her left leg over the other, clutching the glasses in her hand, her head tilts at that same right angle as earlier. The gaze she has is unchanging, staring at you right in the face while you’re quickly examining the two sheets of paper placed next to each other on the desk, sliding them away into the pile as you stand up off the chair. You’ll take this meeting as a win, at least some of the information was suitable enough to your liking for now. With all that done and over with–

“Still no answer?” You ask, fingers dancing along the button of your cuff, carefully threading it through the small slit, “Don’t make me ask this again–” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“I told you. No.” 

“Really now?” 

“I have already made my case with you, sir. There’s nothing else left for me to say for the time being.” she answers with a shrug to her shoulders. 

Dahyun’s throat tenses when she sees the once needling eyes from you become quickly disinterested with her return. Incompetence was a sheer rarity with the way you operate your role, let alone a hindrance that you see in other people. Like the rest, it wouldn’t be long for everyone to get whipped into the ‘new regime’ all those years ago; some stimulating commentary at the time, but everyone understood once the policies were put into place. 

Though, this meeting has gone long enough, and keeping her here wouldn’t really do anyone good at this point. 

“Consider this conversation to be over, then,” you say, turning your body to the window panes set behind your desk, looking out at the moving trees in the breeze. “You’ll hear from me within the next few days so, carry on until you’re notified.” 

She then stands too, hand clasping to her wrist, subjectively giving you a nod with your back turned, seeing  her out of your peripheral vision. The emotionless look that’s her only mask, unimpressed and cold, as if nothing ever phases her in the tiniest of mishaps. You know that she’s just like the rest, despite wearing that facade like if life were to depend on it, part of you wants to break her- to tear up that infuriating fray of nothingness, spark some kind of fear into her core that would have her screaming, beg for a twinge of mercy. 

Reading those accounts of what she did with that student, wasn’t supposed to make you interested, but it is. A worthy head-scratcher for someone like her to have a few screws loose every now and then. It just didn't add up, for her to treat this so pointlessly. 

Even when she starts to bundle her feet together, swiveling them across the tile, she still carries this peculiar gracefulness in her step as her profile sweeps out of the picture - her back coming into view. She’s put up with that facade against you for so long, you know that it’ll be easy for her to comply in her case because it’s not in her nature for her to defy orders. 

A turn of the head signifies a chance out of desperation; a lifeline, and you’ll give her the luxury of deciding her fate. 

“And one more thing,” you setup, rolling the sleeves of your shirt to the elbow, to where Dahyun turns her body the long way round, hands behind her back, waiting for the next thing to leave your lips, “I’ll be perfectly blunt with you because I know that you clearly know better.”

Her forehead twitches at the cause of her brows bridging against each other. You see the small nick of her head that also shows the acknowledgement she’s willing to give you, both ears and eyes trained on you once the spread of your fingertips rest on the polished bark. 

“You’re aware of this academy’s policies when it comes to relationships among peers, it’s basically frowned upon,” you tell her lowly, “Let alone of the fact that you’ve been having this intolerable amount of behavior out of the false guise of indignancy.” She starts to internalize this short reproachment you’re dishing out on her, watching as her eyes expand by the passing second, “Now, I’ve could’ve let this be handled by the high council, but they’ve gave the chance to me in order to see if I can get this incident resolved without having any further escalating conflicts.” 

She parts her lips, wanting to take the opportunity at clearing her name, but she holds back since there’s that hanging impression of ‘what’s there left to be said once everything is put on the table?’ And even so, would anything serve to be better in the good graces of innocence for her case?

So she says nothing. Forever holding her peace while you audibly scoff at her. “I expected better from you, Overseer, I really did.” 

It takes the next few seconds to re-organize your workstation, she hangs herself in limbo, gathering her thoughts as the window to save herself starts to close smaller and smaller, and she finally takes the sealed fate into her hands. 

“If I may,” she says, diverting your attention from the desk back to her - hesitant to the point where you can rightfully assume that she’s eager to finally set everything straight: “I’d like to formally tender my resignation here at the Academy.” 

A bold move, Overseer, but a surprise one too- 

“On what grounds?” you ask, clearly taken aback with the sudden course of action by her own admission. “I don’t really see to understand while you would go to such lengths for this little incident-” 

“Because I will admit to you, Superior, that I saw that student out of my own volition. I’ve made the effort to set time aside from my schedule so that he and I could have our private meetings in my office; for the sake of his pleasure and for my sake of being able to satisfy those kinds of requests for him.” 

This tidbit of honesty coming out serves as a great reaction to your scolding, and not a lot of people get the credit they deserve trying to convince a person like Dahyun, but luckily you’re the one - if not the only one to have that ability in advising her. You always believed that she’d come around in some way or another, considering that this was the very first big fuck up from her too. 

“Superior.” The name alone brings you back. “Please, consider my resignation. And I’ll make all of this go away.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“Why can’t you?” Her voice is strained, a fist at the side of her thigh, nails deep into her palm enough to draw blood, “I have to do this. I need to do this, sir. Please, let me-” 

You can see the desperation start to break through the cracks of her stoic persona, inching closer to where you want her to be. She can play the cool, level-headed teacher all she wants, but you know that this whole fiasco was her doing; like anyone else, they’ll do anything to make things right, no matter the cost. Then the getting ahead starts to seep through your frontal lobe: what she’ll start asking for next, the kinds of lengths she’ll commit to if you’re not the one to throw the figurative lifeline at her. 

Not just yet, guiding her into the right mindset will fall into place if you let the inner workings of panic do their thing. 

“Overseer Kim.” You slowly navigate closer to her, rounding the desk with every moving step across the room. “Even if you were to leave, you can’t. I’ve taken the liberty of locking the door here because I knew that this would happen: the way that you’re acting, we can’t have this.” 

It’s amazing at how she’s at ease, despite having the mini breakdown just an instant before. 

Because her act is rapidly deteriorating. 

“Sir, I don’t follow-” 

“Dahyun.” With a hand to her shoulder, her face freezes right when she flashes a look of suspicion, tensing up at the touch before she locks eyes with you again, the unsureness diminishing with a singular eyebrow raise. “I’m giving you an opportunity to have all of this resolved without any loose repercussions.” You can feel the heart rate within her start to calm down the way her breathing stabilizes, tension along the line of her shoulders releasing with every pass of air, “There would be no need to resign, and we would find a workaround to prevent this from ever happening again.”

“And how would you suggest that, Superior?” 

“By granting you amnesty. Without the word from anyone else but me.” 

You can see that same sweep of her eyes moving left and right, unable to meet yours. The offer alone is taking her a significant amount of time to consider, a mistake that she’s willing to undo. She then looks up with a wistful gaze, the small spark dashing through her irises - as if she had just made the discovery of fire. Her mind starts to work and it’s so easy to tell, reflecting on this potential choice that she’s able to make. “You don’t mean-”

“Mean what?” Letting a sly grin break through your lips. 

“By amnesty,” she adds, tilting her chin up, bearing your arms across your chest, “What would I have to do in order to achieve this?” 

She has a general idea of the term itself, and maybe you think she’s also heard of the many things thrown around with this specific practice or policy of yours. This occurrence has happened a few times, whipping up a few notable individuals into shape - some much more needed than others, but the commonality between all of them: they’d always submit themselves to you. 

“Do you admit and accept the responsibilities of your actions, Overseer?” You formally request with hands reaching to the fine creases of her dress to which she accepts. 

There’s a brief pause of consideration again, and you’re watching her eyes never leave yours, thinking about the whole reason that you two are in this position in the first place. It may be a little hard to believe still; knowing what Dahyun will do not only for herself, but for the academy. Then there’s the logged report from your desk, in detail of what she did with that student, makes you realize that she’s got a screw loose in her head. 

“Yes, sir.” She answers, looking up with a delighted smile, fully realizing the opportunity and taking it with no regret. “I do.” 

“Good.” With a sigh of relief,  a hand escalates to the back of her neck. “Because your punishment begins now.” And she’s in awe of the shimmer in your eyes, slowly grinning when you’re dipping your head down lower, minimizing the distance. It lights a fire within you, a motive of what will entail from this point going forward. 

This is what amnesty is, Dahyun would think, be oh- she has no idea what she just got herself into. 

You learn that she’s receptive, the way that she takes your lips with hers so well, hands flying freely, breath clashing with yours. It’s messy, the way more slick starts so spread on the lower half of both of your faces, wanting more. Her tongue weaves its way past your mouth, a leg hiked up that you greatly take the hint for, channeling the hum of approval coming from her down your throat. She grips tight on the back of your shirt, adamant on taking this chance to build a clean slate, a perfect rush of gasps followed with even more kissing. Her hands are well into your hair when you pull away, a pause to probably call a stop and- 

“So it is true,” she admits against your cheek, “About this little policy?” 

You lift an eyebrow unimpressed at her. 

“What do- you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you mumble, grip getting tighter on the fine part of her ass, chest heaving slightly, breaths getting uneven. 

“I thought it was just some legend here, around these halls.” Dahyun answers, letting her wrists relax while swooping under her legs, instinctively wrapping them around the small of your back. “Maybe you can show me if that’s actually a real thing.” 

She doesn’t see the flared nostrils you’re giving her, “I’d like to thank you, Overseer,” setting her on the desk nicely when the clack of her heels fall onto the floor, echoing the room as she removes the top piece of her dress, tossing it over to the chair she was previously sitting at, “For reminding me what I was doing.” 

“And that is?” She asks, naively. 

There’s a bit of a shock when you force her body to the desk, a flushed reaction covered with a gasp when you have one hand fastened to her wrist, the other lightly on her neck with the grip on the fingers getting delicately tighter. She tries to read your expression, map out the crinkles falling towards a cross or a devilish smile, feeling your breath graze along the line of her neck in these soft hitches. 

“Allow me to show you,” you whisper, flipping her small body to where her back is facing the ceiling, toe tips nearly grazing the floor but just barely. The same hand to her wrist is now shifted to her back, the other set flat; searching for something to take hold, she peeks over her shoulder, watching you study the way her dress hugs along the shape of her waist and hips. 

Doing this kind of practice was no surprise to you, and it doesn’t happen as often as you would’ve liked. Ryujin took three tries before she’d agree to not be a bother to you, Haewon probably took a few days or more to finally come around, and even Mina just recently. This revolving door into your office and form of chastising was the last resort of necessary actions for your fellow colleagues, some willing to challenge your authority, others were willing to submit. 

“What do you think this treatment entails?” you ask vaguely, raising the lower part of her dress to reveal more and more of her ass into the light, taking note of the noticeable choice of lace as she hikes it up with her free hand. “I sure hope that this should help you learn a thing or two. Though, it’s entirely up to you.” 

Dahyun’s side profile is amazingly flawless to see when you’re gently kneading her soft ass with your hand, palm moving graciously along the fine skin, fluttering her eyes shut, her breathing begins to become irregular, a small tremble to her hips as you press down lightly on the waistband, tugging on the elastic before letting go. The potential is right there at your hips - at your fingertips, to ruin, break skin, a perfect canvas for you to mutilate in any way you see fit. 

You laugh and admittedly, out of spite. “I’m sorry, if this meeting didn’t occur, you were going to invite him over for another one of your private sessions?” 

She seethes, but in anticipation, drawing a sharp inhale of air when your hand slides up her back. Part of you wants to put her back onto the wood, but you let it slide when she lifts herself off to meet your cheek, getting a bit selfish when she’s refusing to pull away. Her swollen lips and lidded eyes are too tempting to stop yourself- as if she’s the one pulling you into her spell. 

“Had I not been found out, I would’ve,” she murmurs, clutching onto a bit more of her hiked up dress, revealing her bare ass to the open air, unveiling a strike point. 

A fast hand tends to hers, placing it with her other hand still pressed behind her back. She writhes at the uncomfortable position but the tension passes through her body once you adjust. 

“You know what I would say to that, Overseer?” 

“What-” 

Nothing is said, but all is shown with a harsh slap to her ass. A statement. 

Strike one. 

Dahyun quietly yelps at the sudden hit to her backside, everything from the waist down clenching from the contact. The rough palm on your hand stings to the point where you’d have to flick your wrist a bit to subdue the burn. Her breathing starts to become irregular, wiggling her legs hanging from the side of the desk. 

“Superior, ah-” 

“I should’ve also mentioned that I’m permitting you to use expletives, but you’re already ahead of the curve as it is,” you tell her, massaging the crimson mark now apparent across the breadth of her ass, feeling the bits of heat emulating across the rough creases of your palm. “You’re now free to speak your mind.” 

“God, f-fuck. I can’t bel-” 

Another rough hit cracks an echo in the room. Earning a high-pitched whine from her. Strike two. 

“Choose your words more carefully.” Fighting the urge to smile at the sight this woman splayed across the table, letting out these heaves of desperation, body tightening and untightening on the surface as she’s hiding her face from you. “I don’t plan on easing up after what you did.” 

“Sir, please. I just need to-” 

You press her deeper into the table, hike up more of that insanely tight dress to her waist, letting her struggle under your grasp. The sounds leaving her pretty little lips would drive anyone else drastically crazy, watching as this uncrowned beauty crack under the weight of your touches with a third slap. Strike three.  

What sets Dahyun apart from the rest that has gone under your specified practices of treatment is the appeal she possesses. At least everyone from the faculty to the students have shared their thoughts about her: few envying and others fantasizing. You’re somewhere between the two, impossible to really tell for yourself, but what’s rest assured: 

There's more than a boatload of things to discover with Dahyun that’s already a list growing by the second. Dragging your fingertips along her thighs, pressing and pinching in spots where you’re trying to assess how nimble she can get, the way you can twist and mangle her limbs into a plethora of ways that’s drawing up with the imagination running through your head. How she shudders when you’re pulling on the elastic of her panties down her luscious legs, drinking in the sight of her glistening pussy lips hanging off the rim of your desk, clearly having an enjoyable time with the slick soaking her undergarments as well. 

“Have we had enough? Or are you willing to take more?” you ask, letting Dahyun keep her own hands behind her back with yours fastened over the curve of her hips, sliding down to her red cheeks, handprints visible as you're soothing the damage. “I definitely think that you can handle more, shall we continue?” 

She shivers, the slightest grasp to her ass gives another hitched breath, caressing it briefly as you’re plotting the next move in your head. 

“You can answer me, Dahyun,” you tell her, leaning down over her back, nose tangling within the threads of her hair, brushing the cuff of her ear before planting a kiss right below it, “But from these sounds I’m hearing tells me that you’re enjoying it.” 

A small twist from her singular eyebrow, lids still sewn shut, “You’re ecstatic, that I m-misbehaved.” 

“Can you tell?” Another slap to her ass and a tug to the soft skin. 

“Y-yes sir, I-” 

And another. 

“I’m not convinced yet.” 

Then another strike. 

“F-fuck sir-” 

One more hit to bring the tally up to seven. 

“Makes me wonder what you were going to do with that poor student if this carried on without my interference.” And at this point her ass has morphed into this ruby shade with every strike that follows. Her shoulders roll back, you’re keeping her in place, wrists still stacked on top of each other, hands opening and closing in response to the pain the more slaps you dish out.  

Dahyun struggles to keep her breathing stable, one firm grab to her asscheek as you’re planting a few scattered kisses down the column of her throat, teetering along the bridge of her collarbone. “Tell me, would this be on your mind with him also?” 

She doesn’t open her voice to tell, but a simple nod is all she gives. “My, my, Overseer. You really are something.” 

You could be satisfied with the way things transpired in this very room, content with the message sent and the warning laced between the lines. A momentary pause, hushing her whimpers, tending to the red tint of her ass, easing the ache of pain mixed with pleasure. Her eyes are scrunched along with the bridge of her nose, gnawing on her bottom lip as your fingertips continue to dance along the sensitive skin. 

“Are you ready for the next part?” you murmur into her ear as your hand trails down to the space between her legs, dragging a pointer finger across the warmth of her leaking slit, listening to the sharp breath passing through her lips again. 

“Mmmm…” Her legs buck against the drawers, dipping the two pads into her walls. The corner of her lip wobbles as she throbs around your fingers, dragging and sliding in a form of trial and error; seeing what she likes and what doesn’t, the light in her eyes filling with lust. “Sir, please, yes, God-” 

She sees another idea spark in your irises, drawing away from the warmth of her pussy temporarily, hands fast to undo the belt around your waist. Dahyun could only watch as you’ve got the leather wrapped around, creating a loose hoop at the end before lightly placing it across the two divots in her back resting above her ass. 

You test the pliancy of the looped belt on your other hand, ensuring that the article rebounds nicely across your palm. “I’ve got one more thing to do, consider this to be a test of some sorts.” 

“What do you mean, Superio–” 

Her voice screeches when you strike the leather in the same spot where your hand hit on her ass cheek; entire body tensing from the sharp pain before breaking down into broken down sobs. She tries to resist by getting up, but you keep her in place as she whines, adamant in believing that she can’t handle it any more. 

“Oh no, we’re not through yet,” you hiss, not paying any attention to the stray heel hitting your thigh in retaliation. “Not until you tell me that this won’t happen again going forward.”

“Just for the record, sir,” Her hand grips the underside of your forearm at the same time your weight begins to stack along her back, furrowing her brows and gritting her teeth. “I wanted this.” 

“So are we going to have a problem like this again next time?” 

“Absolu-” 

The leather belt finds her ass again, the crack in the atmosphere strong enough to mistake for the clap of lightning. 

“No,” she pleads, twisting her head back and forth, sounding off another thwap to make a point. “No sir, we’re not going to have another problem with this ever again.” 

“Good,” you say, the formality alone shortly returning, hands hovering over to her wrists, slackening the belt as you begin to wrap it around her. You’re keeping focus, maintaining your thoughts meticulously, fighting your cock that’s beginning to ache in your trousers. “I’m gonna take good care of you now.” 

Once you’ve got the leather fastened around her wrists, there’s another fill to be satisfied when you slip your fingers back into her cunt, throbbing at the way you curl them inside, earning a few harmonious sounds as her back arches to the touch. She’s melting by the second, “Yes, yes, please sir, I want-” 

“Speak up,” you breathe, sinking down to your knees, hands resting at the rise of her hips, glistening lips into view. Everything about her is a new learning curve, and the way her lower half is still hung over the edge, ankles neatly crossed together like her bound wrists, you almost feel bad for enacting this onto her. 

Keyword almost, and you put your mouth on her other set of lips. Unsure, testing, getting those first savoring seconds up her wet cunt. Her whole body pulls inward, choking down a cry, and you realize, this woman is filled with surprises. 

But you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself, the shivers she dishes out, the string of hums continue to leave her mouth. This wasn’t the time to keep the niceties - shoving your whole face and tongue into her pussy, tongue slipping through her opening in these strokes, body contracting and relaxing. The fingers also come into play, tapping along her clit and eventually dipping in to where your tongue can’t reach, the wetness soaking your fingers, the short grasps letting you know of that beautiful high fast approaching. 

“I’m gonna-” she says, voice peaking in a higher pitch than the last, the balls of her feet hitting your chest, holding her down at the bottom of her thigh and ass. “Sir, I’m gonna fucking-” 

“That fast?” you ask, gaze glassy, drunk on the sweet slick that’s all over your lips. Biting down the laugh from the top of your throat, “And here I thought you’d hold out a bit longer for me there.” 

She pulls her body up with what little strength she has while being tied up. Panting. Heaving. You’re content with the structured appearance of her face completely ruined, tense, letting her eyelids flutter when she feels your finger slip inside her once more, because another feeling like this wouldn’t really hurt anyone. 

“Final question. Are you going to be good for me from here on out?” 

There’s a silver lining with the sense of humiliation you’re giving her, nearly sympathetic when your knuckle finds its way deeper. It’s wrong, you think, to be like this, but you’ve learned with the years of experience of being in this place that people will only listen when backed to a corner with no other way out. Everyone here is aware of the rapport you have with others, the kind of power that shouldn’t be really shown until it’s a desperate call to make to ensure everyone’s on the same page as you. This time isn’t really different. 

But still, it’s a first with her, and you’ll take this grand opportunity to pressure her into not making another issue for the next time. 

“Dahyun,” you’re telling her again, because she’s just staring at you in awe. The way you’ve been handling her; professional at the surface level, finding a pressure point to the things that she’s been accused of committing, drawing that out of her by any means necessary, until you’ve managed to break her. “Answer me, darling.” 

She comes back to her senses when her body shifts more inward to the wood, resting right at the bending point of her hips, listening to the zip from your pants. The most evil thing she’s done all day: a sly smile breaking across her face, watching you tease the head of your cock along her wet lips. This will be a problem, but a welcome one. You’re hoping that you’ve done your part to the best of your ability. 

“Yes sir,” she answers, shimmying her hips to tease. “I’ll be really good for you. I promise.” 

“I hope so.” you retort, “I can be very convincing.” 

A slip inside, a slow push. It’s electric. Further. Deeper. Filling her cunt up, her walls leisurely stretch around you. The heat alone is euphoric, coming to you in a fast rush. You hold yourself in for as long as possible, but it’s futile; she may have a few screws loose in the head, but you’re not far off the mark as well. 

“God,” she mumurus again, and you drag yourself out slightly. Back in nicely, smoothly into that heat, until Dahyun nods her head in approval. She gasps again when you move past the previous spot your cock was inside her, nearly to the base. 

“Oh, my fucking-” 

A shared gluttal moan parts from your chest and hers, eyes fixated on the sight of your slicked up cock carefully impaling Dahyun, the friction becoming more and more addicting. The muscles in her back start to freeze up along with her clenched hands, fighting against the leather around them. You make it easier for her case, lifting her chest up at the breast, leaning down to seize her lips on yours, holding her steady, cock carving up her walls with every building thrust. 

Nose against her cheek, “This cunt,” you utter, pushing yourself deep as this girl is faltering moans with every hit your hips make with her sore, red ass, “I can’t believe how tight this grips me, god- fucking, no wonder he wanted to keep seeing you in the first place,” and you lean down the line of her back, letting her pussy clench around your cock, feeling the clutch of her walls, all wet and aching for more. 

The thrusting starts to pick up, unrestrained and unrelenting now. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands, alternating between holding at the endpoint of her waist where her hips meet or press her unbelievable thighs together, to make the press around your cock that much better. A premature call to make, in comparison to the other’s that have preceded Dahyun: her pussy takes it in so well, you could bury yourself inside her for what feels like forever. 

“Sir,” she groans out, the sentence being cut off with another slap to her ass, following up with the crash of your hips into hers, holding on to her binded wrists. “Please, please, please-” 

“Please what, hmm?” You can’t really conjure up the proper thoughts to put in conversation, heaving out scattered spells of air with every stroke into her. “You’ve gotta help me out here.” 

“Need more.” It’s a request for sure, and not a vague one. “Please keep fucking me.” 

You do give her more, and nothing less. With every passing second you dive deep into her cunt, the beating in your heart accelerates just that teeny bit faster. The thoughts are out the window at this point, the only thing keeping you from figuratively passing out is the sopping wetness of her cunt every time you pull out and drive back in. The pace gets a bit faster, then you dial it back, watch as her upper body convulses across the desk, mouth hung open for all the moans to be let out, getting louder, more higher, and needier. 

She gasps when you hold yourself inside, thrown off guard with the firm hit you give her, a moment to catch her breath. “Wait, no, fuck, why did you-” 

Dahyun had managed to do something to you that the others couldn’t in this short span of time: break you. Even after all this time, it’s really interesting how the very person you’ve been wanting to see out for an instance like this is the one that’s managed to make you go all out into setting them right. She’s spearheading this thing, and not you. When it should be the other way around. 

A fistful of her hair is grabbed, and her body is raised up, hips flush with hers. “If I hear another question leave your sultry lips, I’ll tape it up so that nobody can hear you screaming down the hallways.” 

She bites her wobbling bottom lip, assuring you that’s exactly what she wants to happen, and it will. Her half-open eyes sees your head go sideways, planting a kiss down her neck, inching your cock deeper into her cunt past the hilt and her body shudders at it. 

“Want me to fuck some sense into you now? Properly? Fuck this pretty little pussy that it’ll make you think right?” 

She nods desperately, “Yes sir. Please.” 

You bend her over across the desk again, hand still tangled into her hair with the other resting at her hips. The pace deliberate at first, savoring the sensation of how her body takes you, parting her folds with every inch of your shaft. She shivers when you tease her still, not going all the way, but making her earn it. 

Now wasn’t the time for easygoing now, the sight of her backside is an eighth wonder of the world to admire, sliding out and dragging your cock back into her, gradually increasing as the additional slaps to her ass again, fucking her deep. You eventually decided that she’s served her punishment long enough, untying the belt at her hands and discarding it somewhere in the office, putting her hands up to the other end of the desk for her to hold on as you mercilessly bury your cock into her. 

“Sir, I can’t keep- fuck!” she cries out, the litany of lovely whines and sounds the more you fill her up. She also takes the liberty of letting you take a breather, moving her hips back, bouncing her ass with you just standing there, watching as her perfect ass does this little ripple effect on the skin, jiggling with an endless movement. 

It was getting all too much, and Dahyun herself was enjoying it as well, smiling with every groan that rips from your throat, hand floating over her hips, piercing your cock roughly back into her again and again, unwilling to yield the remaining bits of pleasure before either you or her reach that point-

“I’m gonna fucking- god, sir, keep going, so close-” she strains, gripping your wrists and tight enough for her to rip them off. 

“Don’t fight me,” you spit, voice leaning towards something primal, “Cum all over this cock.” And she does. 

Your muscles should be spent at this rate, but they hold out long enough as your ears are picking up the endless babbles and whimpers, mixed in with the sloppy strokes of your hips hitting hers. The mind is overloaded with so much, but your hands find rest at her ass again, burying yourself deep. And then it hits you in a flash. 

One firm hit sheathing your cock into her cunt, and you pull out, cumming all over the fine plane of her ass. You’ll need to take a mental image to save for eternity - the way you’re painting in these lovely slashes with your release, all over her ass, her back - because you learn that she looks amazingly good like that. A fine figure, waiting to be defiled and tarnished, and it happens. 

“God, would you look at-” you’re also left in disbelief, the grip around your cock loosening, eyes on leaking pussy lips, she’s hung down, face off to the side, eyes closed, steadily breathing. The words coming out of her mouth are inconceivable, but she’s thankful, praising you, giving thanks. Judging from how content she looks, proves that your hard work is done.

“S-sir,” she tries to say, still left speechless. 

A kiss to the temple of her head, and a ruffle with your hand sliding down to her back. “So, are we satisfied with your conversation?” 

Dahyun takes a minute or two, maybe more, to process everything that’s happened just now. She’s still on your desk, and you’re getting right back to it, slipping on your slacks, picking up the tossed belt that you used as a makeshift rope. Your ears pick up on the heavy breathing from her as she slowly gets up, hands giving her support on the desk, dazed and astounded once things start returning back to normal. 

You fix up the rolled up sleeves of your shirt; Dahyun blankly stares out in space, fixing up her dress and placing some of the various items hit in the crossfire back in their right spot, off the floor and somewhere where you’ll fix soon. 

“Dahyun?” you ask again, watching as she starts to make her way out the door. “Overseer.” 

She turns at the title, realizing she left behind a vital piece to her appearance, dipping her head down in embarrassment, but you can already see the blush breaking through her cheeks. Her breathing is also irregular, but it’s a lot calmer than before. 

“Sorry,” she says, squaring her shoulders, a hand taking the heels in yours. “Thank you, for- uhm, the persuasion.” 

An inquisitive look is what you give her. Meeting your gaze, you notice a few stray strands out of place in her hair, take it upon yourself to use the tip of your pinky to move it away from her forehead. Not much is left said between the two of you, probably just small talk or the comfort of silence finally setting in like before. You can’t really seem to get over the wistful constellations behind the lenses in her eyes - and it’s something that you want to study more about. 

“Right,” you tell her, patting her shoulder before guiding her to the doorway, fingers fast to the touchpad and the quick clicks of the deadbolt finally opens it. “I’m happy enough to see you again, without the intent of correcting your little issue.” 

Dahyun nods in agreement, pulling both of her lips inward to force back the smile, but you see right through her. She begins to make her way out, bare feet on the floor, heels in her hand - a solid lasting impression after today.

“Before I forget Dahyun,” you’re calling out again, and she twists her head around to meet your eyes, “Let’s speak again sometime soon okay? My door will be open for you if needed.” 

She squints, smiling a bit to where you see the bottom bits of her teeth. You give her a nod to emphasize your point. “Count on it sir. I guess I’ll be coming around more often, then.” 

[veranavera]

PSA: most trans people on hormones don’t pass after a year. I think the prevalence of “passing at 11 months!!!” type stories has given a lot of people the impression that somewhere around there is when people start to look like what they want. And like yeah, some people do, and fucking great for them, but you don’t see nearly as many people talking about how they don’t pass at that point because a) people share those things online less often and b) those posts get less traction because they’re heavier

Me? I passed for the first time at 7 months. I passed for the second time at 19 months. That fucking sucked. I felt like I had been given exactly what I wanted and watched it get taken away from me, and the idea that I should be passing more regularly in the months following really ate away at me and made me feel like I “failed” in my transition - I legit thought that I would never pass

It certainly didn’t help that, in addition to overwhelmingly seeing narratives online of passing early in one’s transition, every piece of medical information that was presented to me said that most changes would happen over the first two years. Maybe I was deluding myself, but baby trans me thought “oh that means I have two years to transition or else I fail because hormones won’t do anything past that”. And that ate away at me more than the not passing, cause I felt like I was “missing my chance” at having the body I wanted

And boy was I wrong, in the last year (my third year on hormones), I feel like I’ve seen more changes than I saw in my first year. My boobs are filling themselves out, my body hair is getting even lighter, my skin is noticeably softer even though I stopped moisturizing/doing most of my previous skincare routine. Hell, even my hips and ass have gotten wider. And this was *all* during an era that the medical information I was presented with gave me the impression that any changes that did occur would be minor

To show you what I mean, compare one of my first trans-flag photos, taken at 11 months on e, verses a semi-recreation I did earlier today at 33 months on e (same clothes and roughly the same pose/lighting, different mountains)

Notice a difference? I sure do - and to prove to you that this happened in the third year, here's a similar photo of me in between these two at 23 months on e:

I’m usually not one for transition timelines, mainly because my whole project is kind of a transition timeline, and if you wanna look through and see more of what I'm taking about feel free to either scroll a few posts down on my blog, or check out my google drive with all the photos from my projects. The difference doesn't look *too* dramatic to me, but some people I know irl have expressed that it is

Regardless, the point I'm trying to make here is that my experience on hormones was *not* passing at one year - and that's the experience of the vast majority of people I know who've been on hormones. Puberty takes many years, and yeah, that can suck to hear when you're expecting it to take two, but trust me, it's a healthier mindset to think of yourself as continuously moving in the direction you want, rather than waiting to arrive at a particular destination

If you've started hormones in the last year, be sure to give your body the time it needs to make the changes you want - transitioning is a marathon, not a sprint

[juuuulez]

more lip x carmy x reader smut……. consider it not a direct prequel to this piece, but definitely in the same universe.. the start of their shenanigans perhaps.

so lip is your roommate: maybe you’ve managed to wrangle him into moving to a nicer area, someone safer than the south of chicago. it’s got tons of nice restaurants, you tell him! the nightlife is buzzing, public transport is (a little) cleaner, and it’s not even that far from home.

and he comes out of convenience, not because you two are anything special. he’s made that very clear. sure, you fuck around sometimes, and lip goes out of his way to make sure you’re always happy and satisfied and safe, but he’s very apparent about one fact:

lip gallagher does not do relationships.

not with you, not with anyone.

and yet, as he brings home a new girl every second night, you find yourself becoming increasingly annoyed. it was obnoxious, at this point.

the banging of his bed frame against the very thin walls, the clothes you’ll find scattered in the living room. when his fuck of the week comes out for coffee, half naked and clad in one of his shirts.

it pisses you off.

so, you decide it’s time for a little revenge.

it’s fair game, because in your mind, he started it. the plan is to find a guy, someone good looking, ideally, and have the loudest fuck of your life.

you find this man in a bar, somewhere dark with the music not too loud, just enough alcohol in your bloodstream to convince yourself this is a good idea.

tall, chiselled face, strong jaw… spiky hair…. and oh.

someone else catches your eye.

you think it’s lip, for a moment. that he’s predicted your plan and has come to squash it.

except it’s not lip.

his hair is long and curly, reminding you of lip’s from when he was younger, just a little more wild. it makes you yearn for the feeling of it between your fingers, a sorely missed sensation given that now lip insists on the buzz cut.

doesn’t matter, focus!

long story short, you manage to lure this mystery man off, with not more than some batted lashes and a sweet smile. you’d really been expecting more of a fight. regardless, it’s a win.

his name is carmy. so cute. you find it ironic that this guy has a clear aversion towards just using his actual name. and who does that remind you of?

the door closes with a slam, rattling the keys attached to the wall. “shh—” carmy whispers inbetween sloppy kisses, his hands settled on your waist as you tug him further down the hall. “don’t y’have roomates?” he asks.

“roommate, singular.” you mumble against his lips, fingers already working at the thin black tie he’s wearing.

it gets thrown to the floor, along with carmy’s jacket, and your heels. his hands find your thighs, pushing up the material of your dress, fingers hooking into the band of sheer stockings. his mouth finds your neck, mouthing hot and wet against the skin, your hand tugging at his curls.

it ends with your back pressed into the counter, the corner digging in uncomfortably, but that doesn’t matter. as far as a revenge fuck goes, you’re getting lost in the feeling, carmy’s eager hand coming up to cup your clothed cunt.

“fuck.” he grunts into your neck, grinding down against your hip. you wind a hand around to his belt loops, giving a firm tug that only presses his bulge flush with your form.

“jesus fucking christ, are you serious?”

lip squeezes his eyes shut the second he walks through the door, not wanting to see some fucking random rutting against you. there’s a grocery bag in his hand, the plastic crinkling as he tosses it towards the counter blindly, eyes still shut.

the intrusion causes carmy to recoil, his hands moving away from your body like he’d been burnt. a deep red flush comes to his face, made worse as your prying fingers persist, worming their way underneath his dress pants.

“i am serious,” you coo, looking over at lip. “this is my new friend carmy. say hello, carmy.”

“wha— what are you doing?” carmy can only squeak out, this strange mix of embarrassment and arousal thudding through his veins.

your free hand, the one not in his pants, finds the sides of his face, pinching his cheeks between your fingers. you use the grip to tilt his head, making carmy look across at lip.

and.. oh yeah, it’s starting to click now.

because, holy shit, carmy has one thought in his mind: is that me?

well, that thought, and also holy shit, her hand is still on my dick.

and lip’s going through a similar thought process, albeit with more anger, the familiar emotion stirring in his gut and overriding any of that initial confusion, because he knows you, and he knows this is some sick shit you’ve masterminded.

“bedroom, now.” he gets out, voice low and serious and commanding. it sends a tingle up your spine, one of excitement.

and you obey: grabbing carmy’s hand and tugging him along with you, despite the poor man’s confusion. because if you’re gonna be punished, he should too, right?

[sarksarkos]

Batman '58: The Franchise Loses Its Mind

This is Batman #113. Two years after this comic is published, wee little chaos wizard Grant Morrison will be summoned into in a pentagram carved into a battered pizza in a Glasgow back alley. They will read this comic, lose their goddamn mind, and make it a central pillar of the Batman mythos. God bless.

The silver age of comics can be defined by two trends: a greater emphasis on naturalistic characterization and storytelling leading to the creation of a richer and more rewarding fiction, and ALIEMS. There was an absolute fascination with shoving aliens and robots and weird space monsters into every comic regardless of if they fit the established tone. At the time, aliens weren't too far out from Batman's regular comics, and they still aren't much more outlandish than a guy with a freeze ray or a crocodile man or a dude made out of clay. But those characters can all lean into the tragedy of their existence, which resonates with the tragedy of Batman's existence. Aliens are just wacky guys from space.

This story, "The Super-Batman of Planet X" from Batman #113, is very much on the wacky guys from space end of the spectrum. Batman gets teleported to the planet Zur-En-Arrh where he meets an alien who's been observing his adventures and based his entire life off of him, becoming the Batman of his planet. He called Batman to his planet because their world is being invaded by a hostile planet, and on this planet, Batman would have superman-like powers.

This is a very odd premise, because it separates Batman from his essential Batman qualities. There's already a Batman, so Batman doesn't need to be Batman, Batman needs to be Superman. And within that, there's an interesting story of how Batman acts when he has the powers of Superman, but there's no conflict at play here. Batman just becomes Superman. There are many, many times when Batman is having issues and he thinks "What would Superman do?" The premise of the story seems to be that Batman and Superman aren't narrative foils, they are, effectively, the same person. A Batman with powers is a Superman.

Batman is teleported back to earth at the exact moment he left, with only a tiny bit of alien machinery as proof that it wasn't all just a psychotic break. Nevertheless, Grant Morrison would later write this back into canon as Batman having a psychotic break. The Batman of Zur-En-Arrh is Batman's emergency backup personality he created in case somebody started fucking with his mind. I'm not entirely up on that run yet, I'm going through things in chronological order, so it's going to be a long time, but I like the idea of taking these discarded aspects of the Bat-Canon and revitalizing them.

Speaking of discarded aspects of the Bat-Canon, let's talk about Calendar Man, who was actually kind of amazing. His first appearance, in Detective Comics #259, has him putting out a public notice that he's going to carry out five crimes over five days based on the five seasons. Five seasons? More on that later. The point is that for each crime, he busts out a whole new gimmick and a new set of bespoke supervillain gear. The spring is kinda nothing, the autumn is just a big fan, but the winter has a freeze ray and the summer can burn people to death just from being in the room with them.

Like, my god, where has this guy been? This man is creating an entirely new supervillain persona each day. You could create a new persona every day of the year for this man. I have no idea where he gets his resources or what madness drives him to his holiday crimes but I would love to explore that.

Anyway the fifth season was racism. Moving on.

Okay, for reals, the fifth season is actually monsoon season. I will grant them, this is a pretty clever trick, I would not have guessed it. It does go into a bit of an Adam West direction when Batman and Robin "deduce" that if the fifth season is Monsoon season, then Calendar Man must be this white guy dressed as an Indian, who was also going to be in town for the same five days as Calendar Man. On the other hand, that guy clearly deserves a good punch in the face.

I had a third story I wanted to look at about Bruce Wayne being invited to a costume party and for reasons best left unexamined, the hosts insisted that he come dressed as Batman. I thought there would be some good comedy from Bruce Wayne, incompetent rich fop, having to bumble around acting like a total moron and "accidentally" taking out the baddies, but there was barely anything. Instead, I want to comment about this PSA in the same issue, which is the gayest thing I've ever seen.

Like, my god. Bob and Jerry are absolutely husbands. They have the relationship I want. This is a PSA in a Batman comic, a comic that was so shockingly homoerotic that a child psychologist wrote a book about it that led to a congressional inquest and the creation of a censorship bureau! This page is gayer than anything else I saw in a comic about an unmarried man and his unrelated child who sleep in the same bedroom and wear tights.

This just goes to show that the manosphere has always existed, and it has always been a joke. Men have always been incredibly lonely, and any attempt to extol wholesome, manly values in young boys has always come out as deeper in the closet than Monsters, Inc. Men, if you're lonely, just find a real close friend and have hot straight gay sex with him. Remember, it's not proper gay unless future historians think you were platonic best friends.

Coming up, we take another look at Superman, where they unscrew the lore pipeline and let it flow. Until next time!

[softquietsteadylove]

I need the goalie AU again. Please. I beg of you to please write thena being all shy and embarrassed when hanging out together and Gil thinking it’s adorable. I CANT BELIEVE I FORGIT ABT THIS AU LIKE THAT MAN 😭💀

Thena made her third - slow - loop around the rink, mixed in with everyone else attending the free skating time available to the community. It felt bizarre, skating freely. She was in a regular old sweater and skirt with fleece lined tights on. She wasn't here to practice her axle or turns.

She was here for a...to...with...Gil was meeting her.

It wasn't them crossing paths before or after practice, no matter how planned. Since Gil had shown up regardless of his own schedule, they had both come to do so more often. They even texted, now.

Thena had given up her aversion to phones just for the occasion. Ajak had questioned what made her want one all of a sudden, but Thena had offered the pathetic but perfectly believable excuse that it was just time for her. And she could text with Makkari and Druig, now.

To her mother's credit, she had accepted the excuse and taken her to the mall that very same day.

Hey, there's a free skate this saturday. We don't have practice that day. Wanna go just for funsies? :)

It was a completely charming and adorable invitation, from the wording to the little smile he added to it. Thena had already read it over so many times she was quite sure it qualified as obsession by this point. If anything, she was lucky the phone only noted when it was read for the first time, and not every subsequent time she had gazed at it just to hear Gil's voice in her head.

"Thena!"

Her heart leapt in her chest. Sometimes she felt so conscious of it she wondered if the rink speakers were blaring it for all to hear instead of a grainy old pop song. But she waved.

Gil skated right over to her. He had powerful strides, making it across the rink in no time, although he made sure to come to a stop in a way that didn't shower her skates with the debris of his gliding. "I'm glad you could make it."

She just smiled, tucking some hair behind her ear as they started skating lazily around with everyone else. "I've never come here just for 'funsies', as you put it."

He beamed at her. "Well, maybe this'll be the first of many."

It was somewhat of an open ended invitation; not so direct as to put pressure on her but certainly they both knew the implication. She looked down at the scratched up ice beneath their skates. "Maybe."

"Did your mom like the cupcakes?" Gil asked, a far better conversationalist than she (thank goodness).

"She did!" Thena jumped at the opportunity to talk about something that didn't make her quite so nervous. "She said she was quite impressed."

"Ah," Gil shrugged, blushing with modesty as he pushed his hands into his hoodie pockets. He was just wearing a t-shirt under it, but she supposed boys always seemed to dress too light in cold conditions. "It's just a simple recipe. But I'm glad you liked 'em."

They were the single most delicious thing she had ever eaten.

"I'll return your container next practice," she promised more quietly. There was no easy way to admit that she hadn't actually told her mother she was coming today to meet Gil specifically.

All she had told her mother was that she was meeting 'some friends'. She didn't want Ajak getting any...ideas.

"No worries," he grinned at her. Gil had a real grace to him on the ice, moving easily, but matching her pace in a way that required some control over his full abilities. "Your dad seems to be less of a jerk, lately."

Thena pressed her lips together. Her father/coach had indeed been less abrasive for several of her practices. Specifically, after he had asked her if she knew why a certain young man was always lingering. "I believe I have you to thank for that, actually."

"Me?" Gil blinked, and so innocently at that.

Thena rolled her eyes. "Father may be a bit of a beast at times, but he has a reputation of decency to uphold. He can't have strangers thinking he's unprofessional."

Gil nodded, considering the words. But he looked at her with a softer expression than before, "I'll be at every one of them, then."

She felt an increasingly familiar tingle in her cheeks and rushed to correct him. "Th-That's okay, Gil! I don't mean--there's no need, really."

He gave her a doubtful little pout.

She smiled at him as they rounded the loop again. "Your presence, no matter how long it's there, is enough of a deterrent. And its protection is appreciated, believe me."

As soon as she said it, she wondered if she should have. Did she sound weird? Was she making too big a deal out of it?

But he seemed unaware of her worry. That soft expression he had remained, and he even let his arm brush hers a little, as much as their skates would allow the proximity, at least. "Well, uh, good. I'm glad I could protect you, then, I guess."

They both looked away. Thena swallowed, although even that sounded too loud in her ears at the moment. The rink was cold but her face felt warm.

Gil cleared his throat. "Uh, I..."

"Do you come to the free skate often?" Thena blurted out, before she could think better of it. She hoped she hadn't cut him off from anything important.

She just wanted to keep talking to him.

"Uh, I used to," Gil managed, even pulling one of his hands out of his pockets to fiddle with the zip of his hoodie. "Skating was always fun to me, I guess. That's how I got into hockey."

She looked at him. "Not as easy to find time for it now that you're on the team, I suppose."

He looked at her, too, knowing she knew just how true that was for the both of them. "I guess, yeah. To be honest, I liked skating, but it wasn't really my idea to join."

"Whose was it?" she tilted her head, although turning the corners again made her have to keep her hair out of her face.

"Ikaris has been on the team forever," Gil shrugged. "And he kind of convinced me to try it just 'cause I'm big. And everyone told me what a good goalie I was after, so I guess I kind of just-"

"Went with it?" she suggested, and he affirmed it for her.

"I mean, I like it," he shrugged. "But it's nice to come here just to skate. I kinda forgot what it felt like."

"Me too," she sighed, looking at the faded colours buried beneath the ice, seeing the fog of her breath and feeling the breeze through her hair. Her ankles weren't burning, her knees didn't ache. It was fun.

"I guess I should come here more often too, huh?" Gil suggested lightly, and then became sheepish again.

Thena looked down at her hands clasping together. Gil had taken the first leap, not only inviting her today but also suggesting further occasions for it in the future. It was time for her to take a leap. "We could make a habit of it."

He looked at her, his curiosity piqued.

"So we can keep in mind that we like skating," she added, rather lamely, in her opinion. But to suggest that they make a regular habit out of coming here together just for the joy of each other's company--it felt a little too much, at least for now. "Outside of practice, that is."

"Yeah," he smiled at her, his usual charm emerging again. "I like the sound of that."

Again, the invitation was a good enough idea, but open enough so as not to need a full commitment this very moment.

"Hm," Thena squeaked out. She was letting the conversation roll straight into the ditch again. But Gil really had a terrible ability to push all of her thinking power out of her head just by being near her.

"Uh, speaking of things we like just for fun...?"

Thena looked at Gil, who had the same nervous but also assured smile he'd had when he first admitted he wanted to spend time with her regardless of practice schedules.

"I was gonna try a new cupcake recipe next weekend," he admitted to her more quietly. He pulled his hands out of his pockets for it. He had no need for even the light gloves she was wearing. She could see a plain leather cuff around his wrist. He looked cool with it on. "Would you wanna...come over?"

"And bake?" she blinked. She was extremely capable of consuming the results of baking. But that didn't mean she would be able to produce anything. "With you?"

"Yeah," he suggested lightly. "You could help me test it out."

Thena just stared at him, her mouth hanging open. She felt like an idiot, but she couldn't squeak out a single word. All she could think about was what it would be like to be with Gil, in his element, baking wit him, in his home.

And as much as skating for fun seemed like a hang out kind of activity, baking with him certainly seemed more in the 'date' realm.

"Thena!"

Her head was turned for too long and she hadn't realised she was drifting directly into the path of those trying to get on and off the ice. She tried to stop, but her picks were angled wrong, making her stumble.

"Whoa!"

Gil caught her before she could fall. And as much as she was happy not to tumble flat on her face - or behind - in front of him, she wasn't sure what to make of this, either.

Thena stared at him. His hand was on her back, having caught her waist in the bend of his elbow. She knew he was big, and she knew his arms were strong, but she could never have known how true those things were until now. And he was so warm. Even with his hoodie hanging open and just a t-shirt, she could feel his warmth radiating from him.

It went through his t-shirt like nothing. And her waist was now pulled right against his. Her light sweater felt like tissue paper. Her hands were grasping onto him through sheer reflex. One had a handful of his hoodie, then other had his shirt in its grips. She looked down. The bottom of it came up, revealing just a little of Gil's beautiful skin and the top of his jeans.

"Sorry!" Thena flailed to release him from her clutches. As if the near fall weren't mortifying enough, now she was pawing at him. If her face was warm before, it was positively on fire, now.

"That's okay," Gil said gently, not even a chuckle at her embarrassing display. "Are you? You're not hurt, are you?"

He was so sweet. It made her insides feel like she was in a perpetual axle spin, twirling and twirling and rushing with joy. And she could only hope she would stick the landing.

Gil let her smooth her own fluster. He stood stationary on the ice as she ran a hand over her hair, tugged at her skirt.

"Sorry," she repeated (needlessly).

"I don't mind," Gil said just as quietly. He was so sweet--so perfect.

She tapped her picks on the ice and looked up at the rink clock. She looked at him and forced a smile, "thanks."

"Do you wanna sit for a minute?" he asked, gesturing vaguely to the stands.

She looked at Gil. She could use the excuse not to look at him, collect her nerves. But she didn't want to only be nerves around him. She wanted to skate with him more, ask him more about hockey. And she wanted to learn how to make cupcakes from him.

"No."

Gil looked down at as she reached for his hand of her own volition. She had her gloves on and he didn't, but his touch was soft. Their eyes met and he blushed, "o-okay."

She started skating again, slowly, and he followed her naturally. Face aflame or not, she cleared her throat, determined to get their conversation out of the ditch. "Tell me about this new recipe we'll be making."

Gil's face lit up, and she had to look away again. But she kept his hand in hers as they resumed their looping. He pushed himself to be next to her, stride in stride, hand in hand. "Well, I found a recipe for a chocolate and vanilla swirl. I've never tried two flavours in one before, so I thought it might be cool."

They made the very best combination, Thena thought. She smiled at him, "so, what will we need for the recipe?"

[mad-hunts]

the thing about barton and his own 'foil' as she should technically be considered, as she is technically the complete opposite of him in every way that matters, is that sumire [ whom i have talked about a few times on here, albeit briefly, so i will give you a brief refresher on her and that is that... her character eventually commits these killings based on the twelve main tarot cards in a deck based on them not fitting her idea of what 'perfect' looks like (kind of like barton BUT much different at the same time) ] and barton used to know each other as they were best friends as kids — even if it was only for a few years.

and as strange as this may sound, a broken promise between them was partially the catalyst behind what started her descent into feeling this need to 'judge' people, which is quite the coincidence as it may seem. because where do most of her victims end up dying? in these settings where she has set up these 'mock trials' for people. so, i know that i said i would talk about how barton had inadvertently created a monster a longgg time ago, but i now am sharing it with you all. because although one cannot blame barton fully for her actions as sumire, of course, has to take responsibility for them herself; but this did play a part in being a catalyst for her feeling all of this resentment and hatred for the world / people around her that led up to her first murder.

which, as you might have it, was the chariot: a tarot card that symbolizes revenge, willpower, and essentially tries to subconsciously put off this message that you are moving in the 'right direction.' i don't think it's so much just the promise itself though that makes this important — it's also that barton himself essentially forgot about the promise he made to sumire, as terrible as that may sound. it actually kind of gives you more insight as to what was going on in barton's mind as a kid because he basically made sumire promise him this: that, if he ever got on the 'wrong path,' that sumire would be there to show him a better one. and that she would attempt to reconnect with him if they ever got separated somehow / give him a sign of some kind that she was still there, so he could meet her.

and i say that this provides more insight because i haven't really gone into depth about this, but barton has expressed this idea in one roleplay on here. + that is that he didn't want to end up like this. however, regardless of that statement, there is no washing away of all of the heinous things he's done and he chose to do them anyway. i'm just thinking about how messed up it is that sumire, up until the point where she started her murders, had casually been searching for barton because the way in which his victims were found was vaguely remiscent of the way that wesley used to kill his victims. + this meant that he was definitely on the wrong path and she would eventually end up on the wrong one too.

[radical-revolution]

One of the biggest misconceptions in personal growth is a pattern of waiting for signs or a specific feeling in your body before making newly-inspired choices. Whether influenced by the idea of not taking trips or signing contracts during Mercury retrograde or merely just a fear of things not working out without the right wave of energy moving you along, such examples highlight the lingering superstitions that can keep you lost in a spiritual ego versus daring to venture beyond it.

In truth, anyone with unprocessed pain or emotional density is bound to manifest circumstances that help them face and feel what has yet to be fully processed. If existing in a conventional ego structure, you are likely to believe it is due to some form of bad luck or somehow life being against you. When a conventional ego becomes a spiritual ego, the same degree of victim consciousness takes on spiritual reasons for things being the way they are. Instead of believing life is out to get you, the spiritual ego assigns the blame to bad karma, retribution from past lives, a disastrous astrological chart, or even negative thinking.

When the spiritual ego leads the way, a highly-compulsive and superstitious way of life unfolds. While it is believed that big decisions cannot be made unless all stars align, there is a far greater truth that always exists to be seen. Since the spiritual ego lives to control the ebbing and flowing of life through spiritual concepts, it all begins to unravel once you realize life will be what it will be despite the amount of daily rituals you implement.

Once you are able to view the nature of outcome as a teacher along your path, bringing up any degree of emotion solely based on what is next in line to be faced and felt within you, there becomes a willingness to embrace free will as how you choose to respond to the outcomes that are meant to be. This may also help you make sense of one of the biggest misconceptions in the art of manifestation—instead of believing you have the power to manifest outcomes, you are far more likely to align with the light by making small mindful choices that focus on which version of self you are manifesting into existence regardless of the circumstances in play.

Even when you envision an outcome and it becomes what manifests, it’s more a sign of how intuitively aligned you are with Universal Will than evidence that you imagined something out of thin air. Even when you intuit an outcome that comes to be, it only occurs in fleeting moments when the Universe is helping you to trust your intuition on a deeper level and not to be taken as a sign that you are supposed to regularly know each outcome before it dawns.

When it comes to the art of moving forward, all you need to do is take one step in a different direction. Even if you find yourself asking, 'What’s the first step—either toward a better circumstance or away from any toxic environment?' you will always find an immediate starting point when you dare to ask such a direct question. This is much more practical and helpful than asking ‘What’s in my way?’ which is often a question designed to help you avoid forward movement by ruminating over your favorite spiritual concepts.

It is why today’s insight is an equally bold and incredibly simple three-step principle:

1) When inspired, move forward.

2) When in doubt, move forward.

3) If exhausted or overwhelmed, just take smaller steps.

While love is the force of healing helping you through each stage of your journey, it’s never meant to be used as a mechanism of avoidance. Even when you recognize that you need more love, not less, I invite you to love yourself through the process of moving forward, not instead of the important steps waiting to be embraced.

From this space of heart-centered consciousness, you may come to realize that life cannot be avoided. By design, life ensures that you experience every intricate detail of your journey, which unfolds according to the perfection of Universal Will—regardless of how doomed you feel, how disempowering the past may have been, or how little hope you hold that things will improve.

Life will always be far greater than you can ever imagine it. Whether you see it this way or not, life is already in the process of showing you the way. If you've been waiting for a sign, may these words offer you the confirmation you need to boldly go where no version of you has ever gone before. As always, the loving grace of the Universe is with you every step of the way.

All for Love,

Matt Kahn

[mamadarama]

same anon here to elaborate on some of the cats (and other pets) in the story:

every member of knights has a descendant of little john/nyaitsu. (only one i have details on atm: izuleo have a big fat cat named king richard who's dumb as rocks[though they both insist otherwise] and spoiled rotten. they didn't know it was a girl until after she was named that. later on they got another cat who they named maid marian before finding out that was a boy. their names have not been changed regardless)

shu adopted a Fancy Pedigree Sphinx (he makes it little sweaters/outfits to keep it warm). mika has a skrunkly black cat he found in a dumpster (alternatively, also thought it could be cool to give him one of those patchwork cats, where the pigmentation on their face is like. split down the middle yanno). anywho these cats are Bonded for Life

tetohina have a Stupid Male Orange Tabby. tetora thinks the cat is a Fierce Warrior while hinata calls it a stinky dum dum (affectionately)

kohiiai actually have three pets. first was the bunny, then the tarantula hiiro brought home a day later, then a while after that, kohaku found a stray kitten in an alleyway and brought it home (by this point hiiro has adjusted to the idea of domesticated pets, and it helps that the kitten was also on the streets [just like him ;;]) kohaku and the cat are both found regularly napping in weird locations (open to suggestions on cat breeds!! i keep going back and forth on what it should be,, i liked the idea of bingus, but also like the idea of fluffy,, currently tentatively thinking oriental long hair maybe? idk. kitten with ear too big for he gotdam head)

subaru (+the rest of trickstar by extension) has a direct descendant of daikichi

similarly, koga has at least one or two corgis, if not a direct descendant of leon. also probably like a bajillion foster dogs. hes using the rockstar money to care for as many dogs as possible

souma still has kamegorou. turtles live a long time,, (also maybe one or two horses as well)

given your Cat Knowledge, i'd love to hear your thoughts on these, or any other characters who you think should have cats! :3

Aaahh thats so cute . i can totally imagine leo having a cat named king richard thats just like that, if someone told me him and izumi have that exact cat back in italy i wouldnt even question it id just take it as fact

you could give kohaku a purebred, but it wouldnt be that realistic to do that. finding a purebred stray/feral at all, much less finding one alive, is so unlikely that the only thing keeping me from saying its impossible is my personal adversity to making absolute claims like that on the possibility of some bizarre freak situation. all strays and ferals are moggies/randombreds, any purebreds you see in shelters are animals surrendered by their owners (its rare, ive been rehabbing cats for 6-7 years now and its only happened 3 times)

however that doesnt mean you cant give him a unique cat !! mutations and weird patterns happen all the time in stray and feral populations . the bobtail gene is pretty common in japanese colonies (at least more common than it is in america) so you could give him a bobtail cat? i think a little high white calico bobtail would suit him :^)

but of course realism doesnt really matter too much, hell i have purebreds in catstars au and theyre all ferals

also hiiro would have either a tarantula or a stick bug or both. idk i can imagine him absolutely adoring stick and leaf bugs for how they look like sticks and leaves , he thinks its charming

depending on how far in the future were talking souma might still have saigoudon. souma grew up with him so its safe to assume theyre around the same age, meaning saigoudon is around 20 years old. horses can live up to 30 and occasionally even longer so theyve still got plenty time left together. if he moves out of his parents house maybe hed get his own horse though

the twins definitely have their own cats and tetora definitely tells young children that meet their cat that its part tiger.

SHU HAVING A HAIRLESS BREED IS SO REAL he would love having a pet he can make clothes for its too perfect . the split face marking youre talking about is most common in tortoiseshell cats , that would be perfect for mika :D

with daikichi and leon im almost certain theyre both fixed because koga and subaru are responsible dog owners but subaru would definitely stick with shibas . i can picture koga either with another corgi or adopting a shepard mix of some kind ..... when he retires hed probably start fostering dogs but until then hed probably be busy with life and stick with only one dog so he can devote all his attention to that one . fostering more than one or two dogs at a time is kind of a full time thing (believe me my step grandmother fosters dogs and owns 11) he definitely volunteers at some sort of animal place, either domestic or exotics or whatever he just loves animals in general (thinking abt the guinea pig card..... )

[plznomonkeys]

I cannot add the screenshot but saw your comment about the process of making OCs. please share yours cuz I'm so curious!

I had literally 5k words written out explaining the process and thought 'nobody needs to read that' and just shortened it to point form. It was a lot of rambling......

Anywho

OC's, in my mind, fill a void that I feel a story is missing. I mean, no whole story is necessarily missing something, but it is in my perspective. Usually OC's are born from something I disliked with the original work or felt could've been handled differently.

So the tip of inspiration is a 'What If?' moment.

"What if L had someone on task force -with more than 2 brain cells- on his side?"- Death Note

"What if Naruto had a friend growing up who loved him?" - Naruto

"What if Truth was an even bigger dick and tortured someone's soul through reincarnation until they finally learned to break the cycle?"- FullMetal Alchemist

"What if a main character didn't have a damsel in distress as a love interest?" - Bleach

The what if is the first point to creation. It gives me an anchor of reference, of purpose, to this character. It's not to make them a plot device, but it helps me shape around what the reason for building them is. Everyone needs a purpose to have fulfillment in their lives, even if it's just to feed your cat and water your plants. You have a purpose, so what is my OC's? There's usually a moment in the story that inspires this specific purpose and each one is different.

Great, now that we have a purpose, let's move on.

Part 1: What's the start and ending?

It doesn't matter what the story is yet. To me, what's important is the end of this character's story. Where do they end up? Are they alive? Dead? Did they end up with love interest? Did they succeed in their goals? etc.

Despite how crucial this part might seem, I'm never dead set on it. I have a general idea most of the time.

The point of the ending is to have guidance as to where I'm going with the story line and remind myself that this character is moving in that direction. It can also change once you know your character more and once you have a fully fleshed plot, but again you'll change it likely because it works more with the OC you've created.

Now that you've got an ending, pick a starting point. It can be literally anywhere. It can be another character POV. Beginnings are really easy, just pick a place you want to begin and write a few words. Great, now figure out how this beginning meets that ending. Rough sketch it, when you write it out it'll change and grow, that's perfectly okay. No character is the same at the start and finish, so be aware that change is normal.

Part 2: What's the secret?

Every character that has any level of depth has a secret that is revealed in the story. L's successors was a big one. Naruto's parentage was theorized for years before being confirmed. Aizen's betrayal in Bleach was another. What big secret changes the reader's view on the character? What do the other characters think?

Part 3: How are they compatible with their pairings?

Legit this one comes up early in my mind. If I'm completely honest it has to, as you already have a character that is fully fleshed out and in order to keep them in character then your OC needs to adhere to the canon character's interests IMO. It's the reality of it. Which also means you have to know the canon character really well. Which is where character analysis comes in.

Let's take L for example. While I imagine he's the type to make his partner comfortable regardless of their wants/needs, I also see him as the guy who would legit rather die that admit those feelings at first? Like I subscribe to him being a little autistic and mildly self-degrading when it comes to 'why would they like me?' perspectives.

I say mildly because it's not so much he has no confidence as simply 'I literally have no internal clock, I likely have uncontrolled diabetes and broke my back on my own from sitting like this all day, I will ignore your very existence to finish a case and I literally haven't been home in god knows how long, so why would you ever have feelings for me?' It's illogical for L to entertain the idea of someone feeling that way about him because he simply doesn't fit the profile of a dating candidate. And so he disregards the idea that someone could ever be interested in him. Never mind he'd have to know everything about them down to their god damn SIN number before he'd ever see them in person.

So yeah, L's tough, but not impossible. I could see him with a character who really enamours him. I mean as in a character who thinks so radically different from him that at first he sees it as illogical, but progressively he begins to understand how they tick. I could see him being especially fascinated with someone who is very capable of lying convincingly, and yet wears their heart on their sleeve. I find this type of person to be so opposite and yet so similar at the same time.

Now that you have their OTP.... what other pairings are there? Contrary to the belief system, but there are multiple pairings in every story. Pairings don't have to be romantic, but they must be dynamic. What do other characters think of them? How would they interact with each other? I usually know intuitively who I want my OC to befriend and who they realistically could get along with.

This is, quite literally, the toughest part to flesh out, since I work pretty hard to try and stick to canon.

Part 4: Define your character in one scene?

As I said in the What If? section, each character is born from a specific scene or idea. So what is the scene in the story that defines the entirety of this character? For L I think his defining moment was his lil speech about 'do you really think I do this for justice?' in the manga. It brought into perspective that L was having fun on this case, and when he was 'wrong' about Light his temper tantrum made so much more sense honestly.

Characters need a scene in the story that really lets the reader understand the character on a deeper level and really drives home 'this is a person' even though they're not real it makes them feel raw and real.

Part 5: Motivations

Okay, great, we have so much covered, literally I could probably just go off this and wing the rest. But now we gotta ask why is OC even in the story? Why are they a moving puzzle piece? What made them get to their ending? What did they sacrifice? What's the most important thing to them? Why? Knowing why a person moves is far superior to simply wanting them to move. Why did Light swap the notebooks between shinigami? To keep Ryuk's big mouth away and Rem up close to L. Why did L confront Light at uni? Because he had enough sugar to kill a camel in his system and a gut feeling that Light was Kira and would eventually fold under pressure if he pushed him enough.

Part 6: The Plot

Okay so we've got literally everything necessary. So what's the plot? Is it AU? Partial AU? Canon compliant? Does it just follow canon to a certain point and then go off the rails? Personally I like canon divergent. It holds some points of interest with the original plot but diverges at points only to link up in some spots. I also am a huge fan of making events happen in different time frames.

And now.... where do the OC's affect the story? I mean there's no way that Death Note is a completely unchanged story despite another character being added? Something has changed, so what? Do certain events not occur? Does something better befall certain characters? Something worse?

I am also a stickler for universe rules. I do no bend rules for my characters unless I can come up with a universe compliant reason that it would work. I try to respect the original author's world...... but I will do whatever the hell I want with the characters as long as they're in character.

Part 7: The personal touch

Believe it or not, the appearance of the character is the literal last thing to even cross my mind. Like I legit started writing a Naruto fanfic and realized in 8 chapters I hadn't a clue what she looked like. I had to go to pinterest and make a board, along with a character bio in my notes app. I pic out the height, weight, hairstyle/hair colour, eye shape/eye colour, face, aesthetic, any scars/tattoos they may have and I put it on my notes/pinterest board. Now that I know their story is so I know why they'd have that scar or tattoo. I know why they have that kind of look in their eye. I know everything about them really.

The last bit is mostly spreading this personal touch through the above mentioned steps. It's fleshing it out further, making them more flowing in growth. When did they get the scar? Why that tattoo? Does it affect the story?

Attractiveness is something I debate a lot, and honestly it mostly comes down to plot. If a character needs to be pretty because of the plot I write them as attractive. If they need to be ugly that's what they are. Full disclosure, I see through my OC's eyes when I imagine scenes since I like to write in first person. Meaning I never remember their appearance and always have to review the notes to remind myself what they look like at all.

---

Ok, I think I got everything? So yeah, this is the fuck fest two brain cells can come up with. Keep in mind it is a cyclic mentality and I am perpetually editing and upgrading ideas in my brain. My newest OC to Death Note has literally changed so dramatically in 5 days just by doing this process 3 times that you'd think they were two different characters. It really helps me know my OC's honestly. Do I follow this to the T? Not always, but it is generally the process I subscribe to.

Hope this was a good read, cheers.

Also sorry if I did this wrong I've never posted on tumblr before this year god save my soul

[kalikalahansa]

hi kali! do you have any advice on how to get more comfortable with wetting while laying down, or getting around mental blocks in general?

i -- (30s, transfem, autistic, wasn't-trained-until-age-5, notably small/active bladder, etc) -- have been 24/7 in an increasingly-uneven mix of diapers and pullups for the past two years, and as of a couple months ago started just wearing diapers fulltime for wetting. i'm fine with however fast or slowly my training degrades, but bedwetting is a pretty direct goal for me just to stop waking up uncomfortable all the time.

i've reached the point where about half of the time during the day my bladder just lets go by default unless i actively decide to hold it, and even then there have been a few instances when trying to hold just didn't work to stop it. if i'm focused intently enough on something i don't really get much warning at all, and may not even notice it's happened until i disengage. i'm sure i could probably go without protection if i had easy bathroom access, but i really wouldn't want to.

despite all this, my body refuses to pee lying down. i've taken every precaution i can think of to help it -- nighttime diapers that i absolutely trust, a mattress protector and a pad on top of the bed, extra water at night, but when i wake up needing to go, i either have to stand up out of bed or spend several minutes trying really hard to force it to happen, which is probably a bad habit to get into. i've tried moving from one position to the other while going but haven't been able to make it work very well.

it's confusing how i can apparently be so accident-prone some of the time but also completely unable to let go at other times.

Hey, anon. Sorry for the delay.

Your goal is completely understandable. Unfortunately this is not a situation I've previously encountered. I am mystified by the fact that your body is blocking your progress.

I don't think trying to force it to happen is necessarily a bad thing if done sparingly. The point would be to determine the sequence of muscle movements and sensations which most consistently results in you wetting. That basic foundation of competence and comfort would then allow you to gradually scale back the amount of effort and thought you put in. However, I agree that if this way of doing things can be avoided, it should be.

An experiment I would recommend is that you start by practicing lying-down wetting in an environment which is even more pee-safe than your bed. The Twelve Month Diaper-Training Program recommends starting in the bath, which is a great idea if you have a bathtub. In that scenario, even if pee does leak out of your diapers, regardless of where it goes, any pee that escapes the surface of your body will leak onto the floor of the tub and can be washed down the drain; if you get pee on your body (other than in your diaper), you are in the easiest possible situation to wash it off.

The Program also recommends that you start working on lying-down wetting by using what it calls the "flopped-frog position": lying on your back with your legs cocked such that your feet are relatively close together and your knees are splayed out to either side.

If none of that works, you might also consider hypnosis, but ultimately that's up to you and its effectiveness will vary depending on the individual.

I wish I could give more general advice on overcoming mental blocks but unfortunately I am stuck repeating the same few clichés — it really does depend on the person.

[postapocalypticromance]

First things first: this is all in reference to England's men's team. The women's team doesn't factor into this conversation yet. It remains to be seen if they do, I hope they never.

In the wake of Euro 2024, as England hit the come down of the emotion of the prior weeks, discussion and dissection of England's failings properly started. Admittedly, this had begun in the group stage, but the post-mortem had spooled up in earnest in the immediate aftermath.

Now, I'm not going to talk about the shockingly frequently floated idea of sacking Southgate mid-tournament in depth. In my opinion, it's a farce of an idea built upon what was essentially just dislike of the man and a lazy extrapolation of evidence based upon Côte d'Ivoire's AFCON success at the last tournament. For all that it's a major tournament, the Euros and AFCON are nearly incomparable in terms of footballing quality, making that point almost entirely not worth discussing.

Regardless, a point that keeps cropping up, in newspaper articles, YouTube videos, short form content on tiktok and instagram, fan interviews, public message ins, whatever, is that England need a signature "style" or method of play.

Nearly every time I've seen this crop up, Spain beating us is used as a direct comparison or its people saying we should return to the old days of long ball stuff, and I truly think that nobody has considered the background of either of them or England's position regarding the premier league or administratively in general.

First of all: Spain. Using Spain as an example is a difficult position to argue. The groundwork for their style of play was solidified in the 1970s with Johan Cruyff's move from Ajax to Barcelona, then reaffirmed with his and Louis van Gaal's tenures as Barcelona manager in the '90s. The fact that one of the biggest clubs in Spain was steeped in a single philosophy that has produced marked success over the decades means that the development of this style has been iterated for ages. Then Guardiola's Barcelona midfield crystallised the final ideas of the fundamental style that Spain has used for the last 17 or so years. The longevity of the style in Spain has allowed it to take root as the major influence, and mean that all players at all levels within the Spanish national teams have a background in a singular style of play.

I say all this because it has been known for 100 years, give or take, that passing football, rather than running football, is more effective. However, England's traditional style of play is kick and rush, perhaps the closest you can get to rugby in a game with no ball handling. It is, frankly, garbage and, by and large, at the top level of the game, obsolete and inconsistently effective. There's been a slow shift post 2010, which actually would have been started by Sir Alex Ferguson and, to a lesser extent, David Moyes and Roy Hodgson, now that I think about it, with British managers like Brendan Rogers, Eddie Howe, Graham Potter, Will Still, Liam Rosenior, Steve Clarke, and Gareth Southgate all taking inspiration or education from European and South American football and basing their ideas on the principles that have been forged outside of our domestic leagues.

Now, to give some credit, it is possible to reset the methods of a national team. Germany carried out an extensive reboot of their methods in the 2000s, culminating in their 2014 World Cup Win. Starting in the '90s with Ralf Rangnick, Germany's rebuild had meandered through a succession of managers who brought smarter, more cerebral football on the wave of Gegenpressing, nurtured and iterated by Klinsmann, Löw, Heynckes, Klopp, and Guardiola, and expanded in scope for players by Lehmann, Neuer, Lahm, Muller, Schweinsteiger, Kroos, and Götze.

But it's easy to say that England can do the same, and as a genuine point, I wish it actually was. Germany had an astonishingly lucky position of having a national and domestic team culture that was based around near pure functionality and a good measure of individual brilliance. That basis of normalcy or lack of the remarkable meant that Germany could press on with the development of their teams.

England didn't have that luck or managers to start to redevelop our traditional game. Whereas outside influence in the 2000s was accepted, utilised, and credited in Germany, in the previous decade, the English domestic game was being shaped, improved, and overhauled by non-English managers who brought a comparative radicalism to English football and the English international game was stagnant.

What with Sam Allardyce, Tony Pulis (Welsh, but with English footballing sensibilities), Neil Warnock, Steve Bruce, Ian Holloway, Sean Dyche, Alan Pardew, and just a host of others being the vanguard of English football, all of who's tactical inspiration was awash with the pseudo-analysis of Charles Hughes and the valid idea of playing within your means and making the most of your squad and you've got a stable full of managers where modern tactics are firmly in the minority. Modern tacticians who've managed England number in the single digits, those being Sir Bobby Robson, Terry Venables, Glenn Hoddle, and Gareth Southgate.

As such, with the international team entirely based around an obsolete methodology and no manager who was able or willing to impose a top down vision of a style of play, no rebuild could occur.

The other side of that is that, come the 2000s, the top teams in the Premier League were hiring European managers, meaning any progressive English manager would have his influence severely limited. There is and has been no scope for a German style total rebrand because where the blazes would it come from. It's not like we have a Klopp, Cruyff, Guardiola, or Deschamps figure whose success with some sort of tactical choice can outline the basis of which their country's football would be based around in some way.

On top of this, English football has historically been rife with anti-intellectualism, both in the managerial, tactical sense, and in total distrust of sports science and performance analysis. As Simon Kuper and Stefan Szymanski put it; English football has an "anti-education requirement." There's a fundamental basis in English football that unintentionally resists modernisation, and it's an unwillingness to interrogate ourselves in a deep and meaningful way.

That, along with Charles Hughes' questionable choices regarding tactics, has meant that there's been a persistent conveyor belt producing English managers who's teams play poor, unattractive, largely unsuccessful football, thus relegating England to the wilderness of managerial skills and marooning us to a thought process that has hamstrung us for nearly 50 years now.

[1-up-chump]

If you're up to a request? How would some of the MK guys react to their lover betraying them, for Fujin/Kung Lao/Shao Kahn and Kano please? *Bows respectfully*

Im sorry but i assume you mean reader being a backstabber? I dont really feel comfortable writing reader as backstabbing bc i feel like 90% of the time they'll hate reader and i dont want ppl to feel hated. However i will have reader have an unnamed lover they leave for the characters you asked for. For something at least, sorry if its not quite what you wanted. But im not about writing xreaders for the sake of drama with no resolution

Reader dumps ex for true love

Fujin:

Fujin was mesmerized by your personality, the more he saw you the more he wanted to get to know you. Your voice was his favorite melody. Alas, you were already in a relationship. Fujin did not mean to pry, but he would be lying if he said he didn't have underlying jealousy.

You break up willingly: you just clicked with the wind god so naturally, you forgot your previous lover entirely. You felt wanted and adored by someone who willingly wanted to get to know not only you, but what you cared about, how you saw the world. You couldn't believe a god was interested in such an average mortal, let alone feel like he was interested in becoming more than friends. When you brought up your disinterest of your previous lover, fujin tried to give sound advice and avoided giving into making himself look better. After all, free will is important. And you willingly wanted to make the decision to break up, and then suggested in the same sentence that you would be available again. Giving fujin the strong desire to sweep you off your feet then and there.

You are "convinced": fujin knew that you ultimately needed to make the final decision in your relationship, but you seemed far too reluctant to give up your clearly failing relationship. Fujin gives similar advice to how he normally would, except maybe with slight bias in his favor. Hinting that maybe you should be with someone who wants to be a part of your life and get to know you for everything that you are, and still want to stay. His voice is as sweet as a warm breeze and you can't help but agree, he's a better boyfriend. And he's also a god so, can't beat that even if you tried.

Kung lao:

You had him at "hello". Quite literally as he was far more smitten by your actions. Kind, strong, passionate. Kung lao could go on for hours about every little thing he came to know about you. He flirted a bit, and that's how he realized you were already taken.

You break up willingly: there was something about this monk you couldn't quite place, he was stoic at times but when he moved he flowed with a different kind of fire you saw in Liu kang. Something sharp, something direct, something wreckless. Regardless, despite kung Lao's pride in his honor making him slightly arrogant, it was charming how dedicated he truly was. And you needed someone who was dedicated, and honest. Your previous lover didn't exactly deliver on that, so you decided to break up with them and try your chances with kung lao. And you certainly didn't regret it.

You are "convinced": kung lao could see that you clearly weren't happy with your relationship. It wasn't his business, but he couldn't stand to see you unhappy and unfulfilled. Kung lao took no quarter in telling you what was wrong in your relationship when you had a moment of doubt in your relationship. Kung lao is precise in more than throwing his hat and fists, he points out everything wrong and why you're unhappy and even things you didn't realize. Kung lao is so pent up that he forgets he originally had the idea to make himself a viable partner, his sense of justice and fairness overrode his selfishness. But it did work in admitting in dumping your lover immediately and declaring you're single now. Kung lao is mentally kicking himself that he didn't ask you out right then and there and runs after you

Shao Kahn:

There is one solid fact that everyone in outworld knows, what the emperor wants, he will get. Of course he is no mere average brute, he is masterful at tactics in war, and in persuasion. The fact that you already had a lover was of little concern for shao kahn.

You break up willingly: you weighed the options and it was far too obvious a choice, shao kahn had power. He had charisma, he laid opportunities at the small cost of loyalty and dignity. Far better an arrangement than your previous lover. You willingly give your whole allegiance to this man, and shao kahn could not be more pleased. He gave you the promise of ruling by his side, but just being in love with such a powerful man was reward enough in itself.

You are "convinced": now, shao kahn had plenty of options here. Simply kill your lover and take whats his the "old fashioned way" of conquering. Instill doubt and give ultimatums about your relationship with your lover. The hardest part for shao kahn with this was the approach, he wanted to make sure you had no hate in your heart for him, at least enough that you wouldn't betray him given the chance. Regardless of what shao Kahn does, you end up agreeing having him as your new lover now. Whether you enjoy it or not, at least in admitting you love it anyways.

Kano:

Kano had his fair share of "lovers" all of varying degrees of "closeness". However, something was just so special about you that kano wondered if that whole soulmate thing was real. Just enough sweet and spice and everything messy to grab his full attention. Of course he was disappointed in you already taken, more so that there was an obstacle in the way of his beautiful prize.

You break up willingly: you had enough playing by the rules, more specifically your previous lover's rules. You were sick of walking on eggshells and wanted someone who could just not care about what others think and what you wanted to do. You had so much pent up that when you met kano, you wanted to hire him to take care of them. However, a better opportunity presented itself when kano barely suggested that you break up with him. You already made up your mind and told him that you were history now. Kano was taken aback but glad he didn't have to work so hard to earn your love. Now it was all a matter of keeping it, for kano this was the hardest part.

You are "convinced": first order of business is sweet talking you regardless of relationship status. Kano would simply make a deal sweeter than what you would have already. Any sort of doubt and kano would be very "persuasive" about it. But kano backed off when usually he would get out the more aggressive tactics. Something about you made it worth working against the tides. Of course kano is going to fight with your previous lover one way or another. To show off, but also kano had a feeling that felt rare for a baddie like him. That he felt dishonored that your lover made you unhappy, and he wasn't about to have that. Either way your lover defended you poorly and kano actually apologized for the mess, gaining favor with you. Kano thought that this was a "pain in the ass" but it was worth seeing you smile with relief. Prettier than any jewel in any realm, kano thinks.

[always-andromeda]

I’ve been having thoughts about the backlash to those videos Chappell Roan posted on tiktok yesterday sO here’s my massive think piece under the cut lol.

I love Chappell Roan. I’ve been listening to her since last summer. Her music has meant so much to me in so many different ways. And I would miss her if she dipped out of the limelight for a while. But this post isn’t about how I feel. In general, this conversation isn’t about how everyone else is feeling. It’s about how Chappell feels.

I think the thing that a lot of people aren’t comprehending is that she straight up cannot handle the level of fame she is at right now. I don’t think any human being is equipped to handle having their entire lives change practically overnight the way hers has.

I wish I could shake the shoulders of folks telling her she could’ve been “nicer” when setting her boundaries. First of all, while she does seem incredibly sweet a lot of times, her whole Chappell Roan persona has never really revolved around being polite and well behaved. It’s quite the opposite really so I don’t know why y’all expect her to respond like a perfect little princess (unless the parasocial relationship has gotten the better of you). Second, regardless of whatever image she has cultivated, she doesn’t owe us anything. Not when fans have waltzed up to her just to trauma dump, when fans have stalked her family, and when fans have continually disrespected her boundaries even when she was kind about them.

The implication in that “she owes us” mentality is that she is a product. She is an idea that we have paid for in time, attention, and money. Therefore, she must serve every single desire we may have of her. Because that’s only fair, right? It’s a cold, transactional way of operating that capitalism has made us all too comfortable with.

The point that she was getting at is that at the end of the day she is not a product. She is a normal human woman. And you most likely wouldn’t get upset at a normal human woman saying, “Hey, please leave me the fuck alone” when people are being weird towards her. But because the culture has decided that she is the object of the hour, people expect her to expect and accept that behavior. Or to jump perfectly through every hoop of politeness to say she doesn’t like if, lest we think she is being ungrateful or too full of herself.

And I don’t say that to go to bat for a celebrity. I’m batting for another human being. Who is very clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere surrounding her. And who very clearly cannot handle it. I don’t think any human being is equipped to handle their life changing so dramatically, so quickly.

We are in an era of pop culture where everything is moving so goddamn fast. Jokes are only funny for a few days before they become overblown and run dry by corporate marketing. Musicians make and release songs with silly, catchy lines specifically so they can be used in Tiktok videos. Every single day, ordinary people online are catapulted into the cultural zeitgeist and then relentlessly picked apart until someone else becomes the next new shiny thing.

This is a beast that is made to destroy people. It destroys “celebrities” and it destroys us “normal” folk by turning us into a wake of vultures who pick apart strangers and are so okay with dehumanizing them that we argue that they should simply accept the abuse they receive and get over it.

All I can hope is that Chappell coming forward and bluntly stating her boundaries is a step in a better direction. It’s hard not to be pessimistic when some of the most popular takes are people criticizing her for being “mean.” But on the flip side, I’ve also seen plenty of people expressing that they’re listening to her and urging other fans to do the same. And as a fan of her as well, I encourage folks to decenter their emotions for the moment and process a few different ideas. One, this woman is just a human being. Two, she is being treated terribly. And three, she is allowed to be upset, to express it, and to set the boundaries she needs for her own wellbeing.

[snifflesthemouse]

This IS A LONG LONG POST

It’s Odd… one minute we have stories about HRH The Princess of Wales having issues with the King and Queen (i.e. “upstaging” the King and Queen at the Chelsea Flower Show with a “Surprise” visit). Let this author stress something…

When I see a con trick, I see a con trick. It doesn’t matter if the con is being used for good or bad… the tactics of manipulation are the same regardless of the motive. It doesn’t matter how noble your cause may be, if you are manipulating people (using [insert emotion] to gain) then you’re conning people.

Some people are uncomfortable with the idea that some of the best b.s. talking cons are actually beloved figures. People are also uncomfortable with the fact that BOTH CHARLES AND DIANA ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR HARRY. BUT ULTIMATELY, HARRY IS RESPONSIBLE FOR HARRY.

So remember the conning trick I mentioned about “surprise” and “secret”? If not, go back to long ago and re-read. Just kidding, I will remind you. This mouse reminds the lovely readers with pleasure!

This author said that “surprise” anything never happens in the BRF. If that were true EVERY TIME MM said she was making a “SURPRISE VISIT” then it is also true for CATHERINE. That was a strategic move, and we see evidence in what is happening now.

What is all abuzz right now? Lady C, who someone in a higher part of the food chain than this lowly writer (a very well connected source, hello, source, I Hope you read this!) has reported to me has been suggested to support pushing a certain echo chamber for BP, (I can see how it is feasible that Lady C is well connected, but so unconnected she is protected connected. Which explains all the predictions she “made” in the book being somewhat directed). Point is, if Lady C is echoing the whispers being whispered in palace walls… Harry was the one who called divorce attorneys MONTHS AGO.

Remember when this author said what could be so valuable that Meghan would sit out the coronation, yet show up in a pap shot not with her son on his birthday but her friend Marcus Anderson, her known match-maker? It would seem like those MA MM jogging shots were sending the message that she is moving on. Then, she announces she is signed with a new agency… Then we have Harry rushing in and out to look like the doting father re the Coronation.

Then the façade of BP starts to crack. Catherine and Wills didn’t bow to Camilla. Camilla and Charles are mad at Catherine for upstaging them. ALL press pieces, not blind items. It would be smart for BP to fake its own proxy war in order to gain control of a new era and new narrative. They all know that drama is part of the survival. But mainly, it is clear Harry’s self-worth issues also stem from Charles, too.

After all, Diana DID die when he was younger. So Harry is moreso Charles relative than knowing of his mother relative like William. In other words, because Wills had more time with his mom, he has more of her personality imprints on him than Harry would. Harry has more of his father. And all the evidence shows Charles has strong sense of an inflated ego. All the way from coming out in interviews against his mother’s wishes to defend himself and Camilla, to what some would suggest is a big powergrab if you believe the tabloids.

Why would Catherine care who attended Charles’s coronation? She will have her own coronation to plan and decide. Yet these conflict pieces come out like it is meant to stir the drama back inside controllable walls.

A divorce rumor being leaked right at this time seems even more deliberate if you think about recent events, too.

This post is long, I know. Please hold out a bit more I am bringing it all together.

What if the bolt hole stories were leaked to make it look like Harry is a battered spouse trying to stay for the kids, but he has had enough of the manipulation and he is running. This whole bolt hole nonsense gives way to the next stage of the campaign. We’ve already had the kiss cam dodge, the rumors of separate lives, and now two bolt holes, Harry calling divorce lawyers, Meghan banging the body guard, and of course… that Harry wants to go back home. Then losing the security case after the car chase that was staged… oh yeah the car chase

That wasn’t that. What that was was an overexaggerated lie created to distract from something else. Con trick 101 class will teach you to put on a red rubber nose if it distracted the mark long enough to get the job done. What job are they distracting from? Where they were staying.

They didn’t want people seeing where they were staying. This is why the rumors have it that there were cancelations, even them begging for comps from hotels. Always hand open, never head down working!

How is it all related?

EVERTHING WITHIN THIS POST IS HYPOTHETICAL AND OPINION BTW

What if Charles never stopped supporting Harry because they always knew how it would end and they could use the optics to boost Charles’s and Camilla’s approval rating? Here’s how it was to go: Charles continues to secretly keep supporting Harry, even going so far as to go and flood media with pieces to save Harry’s face but drag MM. She figures it out by the time the Queen dies, and she stars separating. Charles gets his wish, as Harry is triggered by Meghan using paranoia to get Harry to trash the family openly. All the while, the plan was to have him do this up until after his book comes out. They’d need Harry and Charles to look so bad and hopeless for it to work.

Right when the whole world thinks Harry is gone forever, divorce rumors drop right around the time rumors about Catherine and Camilla beefing (which I suspect are planted fakes because why would Catherine care as she will have her own coronation). All of a sudden, a Hurting Harry Limps Back to King Chas is all over the news. Harry is back in the UK. Is it to file for divorce? There are no court cases active? Why is he home? Is the king sick? Is it the titles? All kinds of rumors will fly. You will see MM retaliation, too. That H was on drugs, abusive, etc. Whatever to make it extreme.

Finally, Camilla and Catherine work together to convince Wills and Charles to let Harry come back. She gets a ton of cash, the titles within limitation, and the “kids” are to be “kept tucked out of sight out of mind as much as possible”. Bet this was her bargaining chip at the coronation. Bet.

They are in containment mode people. They risk MM exposing Charles supporting them if the rumors are true. People would lose it if they knew Charles was still giving him money if the rumors are true (again HI, source!). But I could totally see the whole family being so cold hearted and ruthless at this point from all the drama that they would allow this divorce to play out as dirty as need be as long as Charles gets to claim the title of returing “Old Harry” back to his loving fans.

Gotta go. Sorry so long!

[principiumindividuationis777]

Little Things That Attract a Man

If you are not into men, or not interested in attracting one, that is totally cool, but I see so many "I need a man so bad" blogs, that I might as well point out what attracts straight men, being one myself.

First, though, make sure he is the right man- it's better to be alone than with a man who will betray you (the same goes for friendship with other women, and human relationships generally).

If you have your sights set on a guy, though, and maybe he sees you as a friend, a coworker, or just as an acquaintance, maybe in a place in which there is not much physical contact (e.g. a workplace), the most attractive yet innocent thing is "doe eyes", bending the head down (that way, even if he is shorter, you still look up to him with Bambi eyes). This conveys sweetness, caring and admiration all at once, and makes a man feel needed. Experienced charmer Alexa Demie demonstrates:

Offer him something to eat, regardless of whether you made it yourself, or it is pre-packaged. We men are primal, and yes, that saying about our stomachs and hearts is true. Something as simple as handing him part of your snack will go a long way.

If you have gotten to the stage at which some touching is okay, and the setting is right, offer him a platonic massage. This works best if you know some legit massage techniques. One very innocent variation is a facial massage:

By this point, if he picks up social cues, he understands that you are probably interested in more than friendship, but it's still implicit. Now, it depends on his hobbies and interests, but the idea is the same: Making his attraction to you more direct, by finding an opportunity to "show off" in some way.

For instance, if he goes to the gym, go with him, because blood is pumping, and that is very primal. If he goes to comic conventions or costume parties, go with him, and dress up as his favorite character or type of character.

By now, if everything has worked as planned, you are ready to go in for the kiss, and by all means, make the first move. Testosterone makes men competitive, under tension and pressure to perform in every context, so letting him relax, close his eyes and let you gently take over is his dream come true.

This is a gay girl scene, but it is a perfect example of how boldly to go in for the first big moment with your guy... no hesitation, and straight to his neck and ears. Julianne Moore's character, the passive one, is releasing pent up emotion, and this bold move is not just about "turning on" your man, but about getting him to let go of tensions, expectations and inhibitions, and just feel the moment, with you guiding him there.

He might close his eyes, he might whimper and quiver, or even get teary-eyed- this is perfect, because you unlocked his heart:

Once you have taken him this far, the one other trick is finding an excuse to kneel in front of him. This can be entirely G-rated... it's not about sex per se, but about taking that doe-eyed look even further, showing him that you trust and admire him, and yes, it is a possible hint of your future intentions.

If his shoelaces are untied, tie them for him, as a friendly gesture with strong subtext, then look up at him. If something spilled on the floor, kneel to clean it up, then look up at him. This is only for a very special man, but with this last move, you have him 100% hooked on you: