#calling feature in blogger

[skydaemon]

just thinking about kabru. did you know a 2010 study found blue-eyed males were perceived as less dominant (a trait correlating with masculinity) than their brown-eyed counterparts? did you know a 2013 study found that people trust brown-eyed individuals more than blue-eyed? did you know a 2015 study found it harder to track where blue-eyed babies were looking? did you know blue eyes are associated with substance use problems?

just thinking about kabru.

[dawns-beauty]

Listen like: I Know and I Get It, you have an Aesthetic and Tumblr is annoying to post on if you even think about adding links to a post

But seeing those video game aesthetic screenshot posts, the ones that are clearly full of 20+ mods, including ENB lighting and not a single vanilla texture left, and scrolling down to see the label (usually italicized) 'The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim'

just leaves me like. No, it's not: it's 'TES V: Skyrim plus the work of 20+ unpaid modders who made it look pretty enough for you to post'

[theygender]

The pro-Palestine groups who organized the protest also condemned this behavior as antisemitic, releasing a statement where they clarified that the person who desecrated the menorah was not affiliated with any of the groups present and they do not condone the actions this person took. It was the pro-Palestine protesters themselves who removed the flag from the menorah after the masked individual hung it there, and you can even hear them trying to stop this person from climbing the menorah in the video

Nativenews is defending an act of antisemitism that the pro-Palestine groups present condemned

Hey uhh @/nativenews has been posting antisemitic shit and platforming sketchy tweeters can we maybe stop rbing from them

[megamindsecretlair]

Sweet Escape, Part 1

Pairing: Bodyguard!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, trying out some angst, teasing, mentions of loneliness, suicide, depression, power imbalance. Mentions of blood, knife, and violence, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: You are on top of the world as one of the world’s most popular R&B singers. But behind the glitz and glam, you were unmoored, lonely, and aching for something you couldn’t put a name to. With freakish threats escalating, you turn to your stoic bodyguard, Terry, in hopes that you’ll finally feel safe and like you belong.

Word Count: 5,102k

AO3 Link

A/N: I know we all have bodyguard Terry on our brains so here's my contribution! I'd love to know your thoughts on the angst, I wanna get better at it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You felt like a damn doll. You’d been plucked, prodded, lifted, and separated so many times, you felt like you were melting beneath the studio lights. This was the last interview of the morning and you were ready to slip back into your slippers and call it a fucking day. 

As production assistants flittered around like chickens with their heads cut off, you scanned the room. The lights prevented you from seeing much, but you were able to make out your best friend and manager, Mirage, and your personal assistant, Joya standing by the monitors. Mirage gave you a thumbs up and you sighed.

Mirage knew you inside and out. She giggled, knowing that you wanted to turn all this shit over by now. They wanted you to be here on time but the messy host, A’Kierra West, was nowhere to be found. And if there was one thing you hated, it was to be kept waiting. 

A makeup assistant came up to you and blotted you with a napkin. You smiled at her. “Thank you,” you said. 

The assistant blinked and got startled and you lifted an eyebrow at her. You’d been nothing but nice so you didn’t know where that reaction was coming from. The assistant fled from the stage and you put it out of your mind.

You bit the corners of your cheeks to keep from exploding. Right as you were about to call out to Mirage, A’Kierra waltzed into the room in a cloud of hairspray and her defining feature, her big ass boobs. The boobs preceded her into the room, tucked into a too small red dress that was better suited for clubbing than a talk show. 

A’Kierra took her sweet, precious, slow time making her way to the stage, stopping to talk to the directors and producers, before finally gracing the stage with her presence. You stood up, since it was technically polite, and gave her the fake Hollywood kiss to both cheeks. 

She smelled like an old white lady at Macy’s. The cloying, flowery scent tickled your nose. You wrinkled your nose and sniffed.

“It’s new! I’m so glad you love it. I’ll send your assistant a bottle!” A’Kierra said. She grinned, showing a row of veneers too large for her face. You smiled to keep your face from showing your true emotions. This bitch was nuts.

“Thank you! I can’t wait!” You said and sat back down in your seat. “So we did the promo and the commercial, now we just do the whole intro and get into it,” A’Kierra explained.

“I’ve done a few of these,” you said.

A’Kierra laughed, the shrill sound like nails on a chalkboard. Her deep brown skin glowed with shimmery lotion but it only served to make her look washed out in the dress. Whoever was dressing her must hate her. 

“Yes, but you’ve never done my show before,” she sniffed. A makeup assistant floated onto the stage out of the shadows and touched up A’Kierra’s lipstick. “Thank you, darling. Make sure my coffee is nice and hot when we’re done?” 

The director emerged between the cameras giving his final notes on the taping. He instructed you to be natural and relaxed. You glance slid towards Mirage who hid a grin behind her hand. The phone that was permanently glued to her hand hid most of her face, but you already knew what she was laughing at. 

Optics…Optics…

The director counted down and then the popular theme song of the show played. The audience you couldn’t see began clapping loudly, wildly, as if you were on stage for a concert rather than an interview taping.

A’Kierra cued up the questions Mirage had you go over earlier. You handled each question well, playing to the crowd, and leaning into the persona you crafted for the world. The carefree, girl power, rah-rah, confident diva with strong knees and an even stronger pair of lungs. 

“But what do you say to all of these mommy coalitions calling for your head, saying you’re a bad influence on their children? Saying you’re over-sexed, lewd, and not lady like at all?” 

It was only your media training that kept you from unleashing your pent up fury. You giggled and shook your head. This was not in the script. “What do you mean?” You asked, giving yourself time to answer. 

“Some may say that the rise in your career also gave rise to all these conservative groups, using you to fund their message of protecting their children from your explicit lyrics and lifestyle. It’s no secret that girls and young women look up to you. Is this really the message you want to send out?” A’Kierra smirked, leaning back in her seat. She crossed her legs, and tapped her notecards against her knee. 

You smiled and chuckled. “I’d say…I’m not responsible for your kids. Maybe if they spent more time paying attention to what their kids are listening to than up my perfect ass, there wouldn’t be an issue. I promote self-confidence for adults. I make grown music for adults. At no point have I ever claimed to be a role model for young girls and I’m not responsible for what these mommy coalitions think of me,” you said with a sweet, saccharine grin. 

A’Kierra kept a smile plastered to her face but there was more than enough ooh’s and aww’s coming from the audience. You stared A’Kierra down, communicating with just looks. She blinked first, clearing her throat and organizing her cards. “Well, that’s certainly a take!” A’Kierra said and laughed along with the audience.

You giggled with her, feeding into all the fake bullshit. This was the last show you wanted to be on. But the optics. Fuck the fucking optics. This show trafficked in gossip and rumors, more focused on catching people on lies and half-truths than speaking about something normal. 

Once the cameras stopped rolling, you waved to the audience and then removed the mic pack from your hip. You passed it to the nearest production assistant, wanting to be free of wires for a long, long time. Well, at least until your next city stop.

Mirage and Joya fell in step beside you, going over the next few items on your list today. When you were done here, you had a small promo shoot for the next city you were going to be in. It’d been a while since you were in LA and you were looking forward to the In and Out burger you were going to inhale at the first chance you got. 

By the door to the studio, your heart skipped a beat looking over the scrumptious, delectable piece of meat you had for a bodyguard. Terry Richmond came highly recommended through the agency you typically used. You ran through their sorry excuse for bodyguards like a kid went through candy. 

But Terry was different. From the first meeting, he was completely professional, calm, and courteous. He didn’t bullshit you with flattery, he didn’t flirt to get with his dream girl, and he treated you like a normal person. That alone had you saying yes before the ink could dry on the contract. 

Add in the fact that he was a former Marine and prepared for…just about everything, you’d felt safe in his presence in a way that you hadn’t with other bodyguards. You didn’t know what led him to this position, but you were glad fate was looking out for you.

“Careful Mr. Terry, stand any straighter, and your back might hurt,” you said. 

Terry stood ready with his hands in front of him, one hand holding the other wrist. He dressed plainly in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, showing off huge, bulging muscles. He slanted his ever-changing eyes towards you but there was no other sign that he heard you. 

He went through the door first, taking his job a smidgen too seriously. “Would it kill you to talk, Mr. Terry?” You asked.

Joya handed you your phone and you absently went through your texts as you walked. “No, ma’am,” he said. 

You nearly faltered in your steps. He actually answered. You shook your head in amazement, feeling a thrill that he was in a chatty mood today. You glanced up from your phone to watch his ass move in his jeans. 

He was unreal. A fantasy in a male body that he honed to perfection. Bless his genes, seriously, because there wasn’t a single flaw on the man. 

“See, we’re almost having a conversation,” you said. You handed Joya back your phone with your thanks and followed Terry to the greenroom. You couldn’t wait to take off the fugly silver outfit. Why were you so damn shiny?

“We have plenty of conversations, princess,” he said. You giggled and rolled your eyes at his back. He called you that when he thought you were being a little shit. He approached your dressing room and entered first, doing a quick scan for any potential threats. You waited in the cramped hallway for his inspection to get done. He emerged back out turned those sinful eyes on you. 

“It’s safe to go in,” he said.

You smirked at him. “Try not to miss me for the thirty minutes it’ll take to get all of this off,” you said. You tilted your head at him. Terry blinked at you. You sighed.  “You’re no fun!” 

Terry’s lips lifted in the corners. “I’m plenty of fun. Thirty minutes,” he said, his rich, deep voice soothing. 

“Yes, sir,” you said. You gave him a stern, no-nonsense nod and grinned at him. He did the little smirking thing of his and let you walk into the room with Joya and Mirage hot on your heels. 

Once the door closed, Joya collapsed against the door frame with a wistful sigh. “I wanna pass out every time I get near that man,” she said, fanning herself with the planner she always carried around. It suited her more to write all of your appointments down rather than inputting it into a digital calendar anyone could hack. She never put the thing down. You half suspected that she slept with it under her pillow.

All of the safety measures were sweet, but after a month of no contact from your supposed stalker, you were starting to feel out of sorts. Like this life wasn’t real and you were watching your life pass by on a television set somewhere in a white room. 

The first thing you did was take off your platform heels, sighing as your feet sank into the plush paisley rug. “Zip, please,” you said to Mirage. 

Mirage chuckled at Joya and helped unzip the tight dress you wore. Air returned to your lungs with every inch gained and you sighed again. “He really is too pretty,” Mirage said quietly. 

“Too damn pretty!” You agreed. That was definitely a concern for you when you met up with him. But after twenty minutes of conversation, you were able to glean two things from the mysterious Mr. Richmond. For one, he didn’t play, ever. He was as stoic as any soldier you’d ever run across. And two, something happened to him. Something…soul changing. 

Maybe it was a lost love, maybe it was a personal tragedy. Whatever it was, it made him immune to you. You flirted, you teased, you harassed the man. And he kept his attention on guarding your body. Like you hired him to do. 

You pouted as you approached a cabinet in the room that stored your real clothes. Next to it, there was a clothing rack with outfit choices that you had discarded. Thoughts of how you could get under Terry’s skin kept you occupied as you opened the cabinet doors and shrieked at the gruesome sight before you. 

Your clothes were cut up to shreds, a confetti of fabric at the bottom of the cabinet. Joya and Mirage joined you and shrieked in their own horror. There was a replica mask of your own face staring back at you pinned to the door with a large, very illegal knife. Blood – or god, what you hoped wasn’t real blood – dripped from the mask and down the cabinet door.

The mask was uncanny. One of the most realistic ones you’d ever seen. Terry rushed into the room, gun in his hand but pointed towards the floor. He scanned the room with a flick of his eyes, immediately moving in front of you, and shielding you from the mask. 

It was too late. The image was already burned into your retinas. His massive back took up your field of vision, but due to the black t-shirt, it only let your mind drift. Your mind’s eye recalled the mask in every finite detail and your stomach turned with churning bile. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you whispered. 

Terry closed the cabinet with his elbow, turning around to you. You looked at him, just in time to feel dizzy. Your knees buckled and Terry caught you, yelling to Mirage and Joya for a doctor. 

Terry hefted you into his arms and left the room. Outside, the cold blast of air in the hallway shocked you enough to not slip into unconsciousness. Terry positioned you on the nearest crate.

The air in your chest began to boil, clawing its way through your clogged throat. Distantly, you knew that you were hyperventilating. But all you saw was your own face. Your own soulless slouched face, rubbery, with makeup stains on the teeth, and a giant knife through the forehead. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Terry said. He grabbed both sides of your face. You grunted, trying to shake your head. Trying to shake him off of you. His foreboding presence was screaming for you to run. 

“Breathe. Breathe, princess,” he said. 

You groaned, turning your head away. You couldn’t stop seeing it. Your face. Your face. Your face. 

“Count with me. Six, two, four, nine, one, five,” Terry counted.

“What?” You whispered. Terry tightened his grip on your face and forced you to look at him. His startling light eyes bore into yours. 

“Count. Six,” he said. He was so close that you could count every single one of his long, pretty eyelashes. 

Your body shook uncontrollably. A lone tear dripped from your eye and you rubbed it away. “Don’t do that. Let yourself feel it,” he coached.

You shook your head. “Never cry,” you whispered. You narrowed your eyes at him. Whatever he saw in your eyes, he backed off. He nodded. 

“Count then. Six, two, four, nine, one, five,” he said.

“Six…four…”

“Start again,” he said.

He repeated the numbers easily, remembering whatever asinine digits he wanted you to repeat. You needed away. You needed to be free. You groaned and jerked in his hold. The image of your face twisted and melted in your eyes. Turning your memory into slush. What was even real anymore?

“If you can’t do it, I’ll start with three numbers,” he said.

You huffed as you turned your attention back to him, repeating his damn numbers. You had to slow down, had to think about which number came next. Nine and one were the easiest to remember. For some reason, you kept wanting to throw a seven in there.

When you were able to repeat it three times without stopping to think, Terry lowered his hands from your face. You shivered at the lack of contact. His big paws covered your entire face, generating heat. Now that you no longer had it, you felt colder than ever. 

Another tear threatened to fall but you were much calmer now. Better able to hold back the raging tempest inside. Later. Later you could break down. But it wouldn’t be here.

“Who would do…”

“Someone who doesn’t know the difference between a fantasy and a reality,” he said. 

It was quiet in the hallway. The studio was on the other side, down the hall. At the T-instersection where you were, there weren’t even assistants carrying things. It was just the two of you. 

Terry stood directly in front of you, pushed in between your legs so that he could bend and cup your face. Now, you were acutely aware of how close he was. How his chest rose and fell as if he were the one calming down from the scariest shit of his life. And you were the one who found a fan had attempted to kill himself in your swimming pool a month ago. This far surpassed that harrowing night.

“I just wanted to sing. I wanted to stop being invisible. I never asked for this,” you said, the back of your eyes burning with the need to cry. You hadn’t cried in years. The well had long dried. And now twice within Terry’s presence, you wanted to break down and lay it all at his feet.

“You were never invisible,” he said softly. 

Terry gave you a look you couldn’t quite describe but knew instantly. Almost like for a brief moment, he knew you inside and out and didn’t flinch. You cleared your throat and straightened up a little. You grabbed the front of your dress and crossed your arms. The air from the closest vent blew across your back and made you shiver.

Mirage jogged down the hallway with a paramedic close on her heels. She was scrambling, practically in tears, as she ran down. Terry cleared his throat and stepped back, finally turning those crystal eyes away from you. The spell he’d woven broke, stealing your breath. 

You took a deep breath to get it back and fended off Mirage after she clung to you, telling you how worried she was. “I’m fine, babe, I promise,” you said. You waved off the EMT and Terry pushed the EMT forward.

“Let him do his job,” Terry ordered. And for some reason, that didn’t bother you a bit. You shut your mouth and stared at Terry while the EMT went through his preliminary workup. He shined light in your eyes, asking you basic questions like your name, age, and where you were. 

You answered all of his questions, without attitude. For once feeling like you didn’t have to come out swinging first. The EMT cleared you for shock, telling you to get some rest. “I have a photo shoot to keep,” you said, shaking your head. 

“Not anymore,” Terry said. 

“You don’t get to make that call,” you shot back. The EMT looked between the both of you, the subtle daggers you were throwing each other. The EMT quickly put up his supplies and slipped from between you and Terry. 

“I’m tasked with protecting you. Let me,” he said. 

You hopped off of the crate and watched two officers arrive, stepping into your dressing room with security guards from the studio. You stood up straight and pulled on that bitchy persona you were known for. You wore it like a well-used coat, broken in and comfortable. 

“Your job is to guard me wherever I may be. I only have a few more stops on this tour and this incel isn’t going to ruin my dream. If that’s going to be a problem for you, I can call your agency,” you said. You looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. Wondered if you were able to fool him after he’d gotten a peek behind your four inch thick walls. 

Terry leaned back, his stare turning hard. Judging. Your lips parted on a silent gasp. “No need. We’re clear,” he said, his voice just as hard as his eyes. Cold like diamonds. His jaw flexed and he stared straight ahead, giving you a blank, thousand yard stare.

Joya ran into the hallway, pushing past looky-loos and producers. Everybody had a phone out. It’d only be a matter of time before the press caught wind and accosted you outside. You couldn’t leave in this stupid dress. 

Joya finally poked her tiny head up from between the gathering crowd. She held a bag in her hand and handed it to Mirage, leaning over to grab her knees and huff. “Emergency stash,” she huffed.

“You’re a genius, Joya,” Mirage said. 

You avoided Terry’s gaze as you walked further down the hall to a different dressing room. Terry cleared this one first, moving about the room more thoroughly than he did the last. He opened the cabinet and you flinched, half expecting another doppelganger staring at you. 

Nothing jumped out so Terry brushed past. “All clear,” he said. 

He closed the door and you sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That was bitchy of you. Hella bitchy and he didn’t deserve it. You paid him to worry about your safety. You snorted. You were paying people to care about you now. That’s how far you’d fallen. 

“Dare we ask?” Joya asked. 

Mirage turned to her, making a cut it out gesture. “You can say it. I was mean for no reason,” you said. You peeled the silver dress off of your body and shivered. Felt like shedding snake skin. That was the last thing you needed to visualize. 

“It wasn’t…not..for a good reason,” Mirage said.

“It was out of line,” you said. You didn’t typically feel guilty this soon after pulling the diva card. It usually took a few days. After you were half deep into your favorite bottle of wine with only Mirage and Joya as your company.

Joya handed you a pair of leggings, an oversized orange sweater, and a pair of socks. You quickly got dressed, pulling your hair into the best ponytail you could manage. She handed you a hat and a pair of sunglasses. You sighed, feeling more like yourself. You liked dressing up in your costumes for the tour, liked getting pretty like the dolls you used to play with. But there came a time when you just wanted to pig out in a pair of sweats or shorts. 

You slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and Joya draped the silver dress over the back of the couch. She took out her planner, flipping to a sticky pad that she scribbled a note on. She stuck the paper to the door of the dressing room.

Terry looked you up and down, noting your wardrobe change. He looked at Joya and nodded and she giggled breathlessly. 

“Look, Terry,” you began, ready to own up to what you did. 

“We’re good. Stay on me, okay?” He asked. 

You nodded. Terry used his full height to stalk down the hallway. You avoided looking at your dressing room. At the…you were going to be sick. Your stomach twisted as you passed the room, passed the police. 

“I already talked to them. They know about the, um, you know. They won’t need to question you,” Mirage said.

“Thank God,” you said. 

Terry pushed and ordered people to move as he led you out of the studio and to the black truck parked in the connected parking lot. He opened the door for you and you paused before climbing in. 

“I’m sorry about what I said. Truly,” you said. Terry’s eyes defrosted a fraction. He glanced at you and nodded. 

“We’re good,” he said. 

You nodded and hopped in the car. Mirage and Joya hopped in on the other side. Terry walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in, pulling out of the driveway just as the first news cameras were arriving. 

You sighed and leaned against the backseat. “Great thinking, Joya,” you commended. 

“Thanks, but it was Mirage. She made the point that the press was going to have a field day and I took off,” she said. She had her pen and phone out, staring down at your calendar. 

“I called ahead and told them that we were going to be late because of what happened. They said they can move the shoot if you–”

“No. I can’t slow down,” you said. Your schedule was held together by glue, paperclips, and chewing gum. Together with Mirage, you managed to carve out true rest periods. Slots of entire hours where you didn’t have to go anywhere, didn’t have to smile at this, or endorse that. 

Your mind drifted back to what you told Terry in the studio. All you ever wanted to do was sing. You watched countless videos of your favorite singers, sung your heart out whenever you had the chance, snuck and took singing lessons because you knew that this was where you wanted to be.

Hollywood never showed the uglier parts. The parts where it felt like there would always be a thousand hands crawling all over your skin. Thousands of fans taking it too far. Sending you disturbing videos of either their tiny dicks, feet, moles, chest hairs, or telling you how much you sucked at singing. They said you were overrated. Mannish. Too full of yourself. Every one of them had a different fantasy of you in their heads. Every one of them wanted a piece of you. And whoever this maniac was, they weren’t going to stop until they succeeded in killing you. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. It might be time to step down from singing for a while,” you said.

“What! Noooo. Why? Because of this loser?” Mirage asked. 

“It’s everything. I’m just so tired,” you whispered. Terry’s eyes flicked to yours in the rearview mirror. Your eyes burned again and you looked away from him. Curse him and his damn hypnotizing eyes. 

Terry got you to the photoshoot without breaking any traffic laws. But he was close. He escorted you to the door, a steady presence the entire way. No one was getting through Terry. That thought put you at ease as you turned your mind off and went back to the doll everyone wanted you to be.

Hours later, Terry was at the receptionist’s desk at the hotel coordinating your move. You were switching hotel rooms, again. You were packed up and loaded up into the truck, again. You were checking into a different hotel, classier than the last, under a different name and was once again in the elevator with Terry by your side. 

He hardly carried a duffle bag. A small thing that looked silly bouncing against his big ass. Terry escorted you to the room, dropping his bag to the floor. He unsheathed his gun and pressed it close to his body. 

“Wait here,” he said. He opened the door with the keycard and let himself in first. He turned on the light and swept through the entire suite, checking behind every nook and cranny. You followed behind him anyway. Even if your stalker did manage to find the place, there was no way he had enough time to set a trap. 

Terry came back into the foyer and stopped up short when he saw you looking at the complimentary wine bottle. You read over the standard hotel note. “I told you to wait outside,” he said and put up his gun. 

“I’m tired and I want to lay down.” You waved him off. What you really wanted to do was take a hot fucking bath and bawl your eyes out. The “later” had finally come and you wanted to break down in peace. 

Terry moved to the door and grabbed his duffle, bringing it inside. He closed and locked the door, putting on the safety latch for good measure. He slung the duffle over his shoulder and walked to the adjoining suite door. He opened it and then stopped across to his side of it.

“I’ll be right on the other side if you need anything,” he said. You leaned against the open door and gave him a small smile. 

“Thanks, Terry. For today,” you said.

“It’s my job right?” He asked.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?” You asked. 

Terry smiled tightly, like he wasn’t quite used to it anymore. “Not a chance, princess,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes again, pinching your lips together to keep from smiling. All it did was bunch up your cheeks and give away the rising heat in your cheeks. “Goodnight, Mr. Terry,” you said.

“Goodnight,” he said. He closed the door and you stood on the other side of it. Wondering what it must be like to know him intimately. To know what made him smile or laugh. What made his eyes light up with joy. Or what brought such sadness to his eyes. 

You wondered what it would be like to fall into his arms, easily, readily, and have him embrace you like you were the most precious thing in the world. For a brief moment, you let yourself daydream. Let the fantasy take shape in your mind.

That was a much more comforting image to hold onto than the crushing weight of the day. You turned away from the door, heading to your side of the suite. You entered your room and ran yourself a bath.

The room steamed up with heat from the bath you ran. The clawfoot tub was pristine, with an ornate faucet. The rug underneath felt like clouds. You focused on the strangeness around you. 

The few trips you did take were nothing like this. You stayed in nice hotels, hotels your family was able to afford, but not like this. It didn’t stink like mold. The opposite. There was some kind of subtle, expensive perfume in the air. 

The bathroom was so spacious, you could fit three clawfoot bathtubs in it and still have room left over. You were in the lap of luxury and it felt like a gilded cage, designed to keep you in a perpetual state of “other”. Temporary. In the world but never of it. 

You turned off the hot water and swirled your hands through the foamy bubbles. It was the perfect temperature so you took off your clothes, threw on a bonnet, and sank in. The heated water was a welcome balm, soothing the tension you carried in your body. 

The tears came too easily, just under the surface. It slipped down your cheeks and you finally let yourself break down. Allowed yourself to feel the stress and loneliness of the day. You had one of the most horrific days of your life and everybody who mattered already knew about it. 

There was no one to vent to. No one who wasn’t already on your payroll. And to be honest, that hurt most of all. 

Ya'll know what I'm about. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: This skyrocketed LOL. I love ya'll, so so much!

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[wip]

Tumblr now disables custom pages by default and no longer allows users to turn off promotional banners from displaying on them. From a user perspective, it feels like the use of custom pages is being discouraged. It also feels like Tumblr prioritizes the social media aspects of the platform over the blogging aspects. Interest in the web revival is growing, and with that in mind, it would be awesome to see Tumblr embrace it with a renewed focus on custom pages and improvements for bloggers. :-)

Answer: Hi there, @unicornwishes!

We also love the blogging side of Tumblr, but unfortunately we haven’t had as much time to focus on it with our recent work on Communities. But blogging on Tumblr isn't going anywhere! We’re just not sure yet when we'll work on features like custom pages.

If you're interested in custom pages or other blogging features, we also have a wonderful sister platform called WordPress.com specifically for blogging, so feel free to check that out too!

Thanks for your question. Keep ’em coming, folks.

This post has been edited for clarity.

[cheezitofthevalley]

Part 1

Hi! Sorry this took so long (new job). Let's get right to it.

Q: What are dividers?

A: Dividers are any graphic that is used to divide two things, usually bodies of text. They are useful for breaking up blog posts and signalling the end of a topic. You might not have noticed, but many websites feature dividers of some kind. Bloggers, however, tend to be a bit extra about their dividers. Here are some good examples:

Q: Ok, cool. It probably wasn't necessary for you to put that many examples, but it does make it clear that dividers can be pretty much anything. Still, I think there are more graphics that you've posted. What about those tiny thingys?

A: You mean favicons? Yeah, let's talk about those.

Favicons are tiny images that represent a website or company. Any easy example is probably right in front of you, if you're on a laptop. Look at the Tumblr tab you have open; do you see the little "t" icon? That's a favicon. Favicons were originally 16x16 pixels. They can be animated.

That being said, lots of people use the term to refer to any small pixel art. These can also be called pixels.

Q: Wait. Why call pixel art a pixel? Aren't pixels single points on a screen?

A: Well, yes. And favicons are supposed to have very specific dimensions and uses, but here we are. "Pixels" can sometimes refer to tiny pixel art, usually between 16x16 and 32x32 pixels (I know, confusing) large. These pixels are often animated. I use favicons and pixels to refer to the same thing.

Q: Ok, I think I get it. But what are pixels used for? Are they essentially icons, or trademarks, like favicons?

A: Sometimes, but usually not. They are often used like bullet points in website directories or lists. I've also seen them used as emoticons, buttons, and decorations. Some people like to simply collect them.

Here are some examples of pixels/favicons:

Q: oOoOO. I like those. Is there anything else people collect?

A: Yep! Pretty much all graphics are collectible. That being said, some lack any use except to be displayed. Fanlisting buttons, for example.

Q: What are fanlistings?

A: Fanlistings were a way for fans to connect online before social media really took off. They were basically online bulletins listing contact info of the fanbases members so that you could connect with like-minded people. They aren't much of a thing now, but they do exist. People who love Spacehey and Neocities are likely to use them. You can register for some and take a button to put on your blog to let others know you're part of that fandom. It also links to the fanlisting itself for others to join. Here are some fanlisting buttons (I haven't joined any):

They are usually 50x50, but don't have to be: they can even be other graphics, like 88x31 buttons! Some other common dimensions are 75x50, 100x35, and 100x50.

In part three, we'll finish up with a couple odd graphics, some interesting old websites, and useful posting tips.

[cherrysnax]

this isn’t like sarcastic by the way. I just realized it could read like this

so like what should we do. should we boycott tumblr, suicide bait staff? what can we do for them to restore all of these blogs??

[vellichorom]

" Trapped in the back without a trusty, doting friend to call upon? Dealing with a bout of head trauma or a few broken bones? Perhaps you're on the brink of your demise? Might I interest you in this wayside's latest & greatest achievement since those mystery prize slide things? A drink of holy water, to cure what ails you! " -- Thierry Ellis-Baker, recently self-appointed, resident Backrooms salesman.

// A THIERRY DRAWN UP FOR @deviousnarrator's DRINK TREND!

featuring all KINDS of details in needless irony & symbolism that I will feel particularly smug about. apparently the fandomized concept of the backrooms now features some kind of health potion in the form of nut water? why should i be surprised? but it absolutely sounds like something thierry would market himself, if not just get in on, just to trick the naïve & stupidly brave or trusting; which, of course, made me HAVE to dress him like an old swanky 50's salesman, for the bit

also highlighting my favorite detail another blogger ( @/savefrog ) mentioned about the concept once that i promise IS related to this choice in drink

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Xo Xo Gossip Girl

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Gossip Blogger! Reader

Part 1

a:n The way I find myself digging for the perfect chapter gif only to scroll for five minutes and save my favorites is so embarrassing. I'm gonna need his girlfriend to hand over that game card... anyway hope u like this chapter.

word count - 4k

Masterlist Link

GIF by wyattjohnston

...

HOCKEY HEARTBREAK: THE REAL REASON BEHIND THE HUGHES-DEGREGIO SPLIT

Posted by Y/N @ The Daily Whisper | 11:42 PM

Settle in, Whisper Warriors, because do I have some piping hot tea for you tonight.

You know those moments when the universe just hands you the story of the year? Well, last Saturday at Vibe, somewhere between my second cosmopolitan and watching Matt Rempe fail at dancing (yes, that's tea for another day), I quite literally bumped into none other than Serena DeGregio. And let me tell you, after a few shots of liquid courage, Hollywood's newest "it girl" was ready to spill everything about her recent split from hockey's favorite bad boy, Jack Hughes.

Now, we've all seen the headlines: "Hockey Heartthrob and Rising Star Call It Quits." But the real story? It's juicier than your mom's Thanksgiving turkey.

According to Serena, our beloved hockey star couldn't handle being the second name in the relationship. While she was booking Netflix specials and selling out concert venues, Jack was sidelined with a shoulder injury that kept him off the ice for three months. And apparently, watching your girlfriend's face on every billboard in Times Square does things to a man's ego.

"He's still stuck in that high school hockey star mentality," Serena told me, twirling the olive in her martini. "You know the type – peaked at eighteen, never had to grow up because everything came easy."

But here's where I have to play devil's advocate (and maybe it's because I've seen those ice-blue eyes up close at press events). Having covered Jack's career since his rookie year, there's more to him than Serena's bitter pill would have you swallow. This is the same guy who started a youth hockey program in underprivileged neighborhoods. The same player who spent his injury rehab volunteering at children's hospitals. And let's be real – anyone who's seen him handle a puck knows he definitely hasn't peaked.

Maybe it's the journalist in me, but something about this story feels... incomplete. There's always two sides to every breakup, isn't there?

Update coming soon... if I can track down Mr. Hughes for his side of the story 😉

...

Y/N stretched back in her purple velvet office chair, admiring her latest post on the screen. Her "lair," as she liked to call it, was her happy place – fairy lights twinkling across the ceiling, framed magazine covers featuring her biggest stories adorning the coral-painted walls, and her trusty mini-fridge humming softly in the corner, stocked with Diet Coke and chocolate-covered almonds.

The story was already gaining traction, comments pinging faster than she could read them. Her phone buzzed – Alyssa's face lighting up the screen. Y/N smiled, knowing her best friend had probably already devoured every word. As the head of corporate sponsorships at Manhattan's largest sports marketing firm, Alyssa always had the best insider information – and opinions to match.

"Y/N! Have you lost your mind?" Alyssa didn't even wait for a hello. "That post about Jack and Serena is everywhere! My entire office is buzzing about it. The PR team for the Rangers is having a field day."

"Good evening to you too, bestie." Y/N spun lazily in her chair, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

"Never mind pleasantries. I have information that's going to make your next post even bigger." Y/N could hear the smile in her voice. "You know that charity gala at The Plaza next weekend? The one my firm is coordinating with?"

Y/N threw her head back and groaned dramatically. The motion made her neck crack, and she absently rubbed it while whining, "Don't rub it in. I've been trying to get press credentials for weeks. Even my usual connections couldn't get me in."

"Well, guess who's not only attending but is being honored for his youth hockey program?"

Y/N shot forward so fast her chair rolled back and hit the wall, rattling her framed cover of Time Magazine. "Jack Hughes."

"Bingo. And since I'm basically running the whole event..." Alyssa paused for dramatic effect. "I happen to have an extra ticket with your name on it. Perks of being best friends with someone who has to make sure all the corporate sponsors play nice with their hockey darlings."

"Shut up!" Y/N leaped out of her chair, nearly tripping over her discarded shoes in excitement. She caught herself on the edge of her desk, sending a stack of press releases flying. "Alyssa Martinez, you beautiful genius! How did you swing that?"

"Let's just say I convinced the foundation board that having an influential blogger there would be good publicity for their youth programs." Alyssa's voice took on a more serious tone. "Though after this post, I might have some explaining to do. You better make this worth it."

Y/N's heart raced as she glanced at her blog post still glowing on the screen, her mind already spinning with possibilities. "Trust me, this is going to be the story of the year."

"I'm counting on it. My reputation is on the line here too, you know. These athletes might be my clients, but you're my best friend. Don't make me regret mixing the two."

"Have I ever let you down before?" Y/N was already opening her notes app, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"There's a first time for everything," Alyssa teased. "So, are you ready to get the other side of the story?"

...

One Week Later

Y/N stood before her full-length mirror, smoothing down the silk of her black dress. Beside her, Alyssa was applying a final coat of mascara, her own black dress a perfect complement with its off-shoulder design.

"Stop overthinking it," Alyssa said, catching Y/N's distant expression in the mirror. "I can literally see the gears turning in your head."

Y/N sighed, fiddling with her delicate silver necklace. The blog post about Jack and Serena had exploded over the past week, becoming her most viral story to date. But something about it had been nagging at her, keeping her up at night as she replayed Serena's words in her mind.

"It's just..." Y/N paused, carefully considering her words. "What if we got it wrong? What if Serena isn't the victim she's making herself out to be?"

Alyssa raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you second-guess a source?"

"Since something doesn't add up." Y/N moved to her vanity, pretending to touch up her subtle smoky eye while her thoughts raced. "I've been doing some digging. Every charity event, every hospital visit, every youth program – Jack Hughes doesn't publicize any of it. His team's PR doesn't even push it. What kind of attention-seeking bad boy does good deeds and keeps them quiet?"

"So you think Serena's lying?"

"I think..." Y/N turned to face her friend, determination settling over her features. "I think she's a scorned ex trying to control the narrative. And maybe... maybe I helped her do it."

Alyssa's lips curved into a knowing smile. "And this sudden crisis of conscience has nothing to do with those ice-blue eyes you mentioned in your post?"

"This isn't about that," Y/N protested, but she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "This is about the truth. The real story." She grabbed her clutch, checking one last time that her phone and recorder were inside. "Every good journalist knows there are two sides to every story. It's time I found out his."

"Well then," Alyssa linked their arms together, leading them toward the door. "Let's go get your story, Lois Lane."

As they stepped into the waiting car, Y/N's mind was already racing with possibilities. She'd built her career on exposing the truth, even when it wasn't pretty. But tonight felt different. Tonight, she wasn't just chasing a story – she was chasing redemption. And maybe, just maybe, she'd find out who the real Jack Hughes was in the process.

The Plaza Hotel beckoned in the distance, its lights twinkling against the Manhattan skyline like a beacon. Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. Bad boy or misunderstood hero, she was going to find out the truth – even if it meant admitting she got it wrong the first time.

...

Jack's pov

Jack's knee wouldn't stop bouncing under the pristine white tablecloth, making the water in his parents' glasses ripple like tiny earthquakes. Luke, ever the annoying little brother, flicked his ear.

"Dude, you're making the whole table shake. What's got you so worked up?" Luke's grin was nothing short of devilish. "Could it be a certain viral blog post about your 'high school mentality'?"

Jack pinched the sensitive spot under Luke's bicep, earning a satisfying yelp. "Shut up, man. At least I didn't trip over my own skates at practice yesterday."

"Boys," Ellen Hughes' warning tone cut through their bickering. She smoothed her navy dress with one hand while giving them both the look – the one that had stopped many locker room fights in their youth. "You're at a charity gala, not the rink. Act like grown men, please?"

"Yes, Mom," they chorused in unison, sharing a quick grin that made their father Jim chuckle behind his menu.

Jack let out a heavy breath, tugging at his bow tie. It felt too tight, like everything else lately – the press, the expectations, the endless questions about Serena. His leg started bouncing again.

"That's it." He pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor. "I need a drink."

"Water," his mother called after him. "You have a speech to give!"

Jack waved in acknowledgment, weaving through the sea of evening gowns and tuxedos. His shoulder twinged – phantom pain from the injury that had started this whole mess. Or maybe it was just his body's reaction to stress. The blog post had been everywhere this week, his phone blowing up with messages from teammates asking if he'd seen it.

He had. Multiple times. Each read made him want to throw his phone into the Hudson.

Reaching the bar, he slumped against the polished marble, pressing his forehead to the cool surface for just a moment. "Water, please," he groaned to the bartender. "Still, not sparkling."

"Trouble in paradise?"

The voice was unfamiliar, tinged with curiosity and something else he couldn't quite place. Jack lifted his head to find a woman in a black dress perched on the barstool next to him, stirring what looked like a cosmopolitan with delicate fingers. She wasn't looking at him directly, but he could see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Before he could respond, a flash of red appeared in his peripheral vision, and he had to fight the urge to groan out loud.

"Jackie!" The voice was unmistakable – Rebekah Chen, Page Six's most persistent reporter. Her red dress matched her lipstick, both as bold as her personality. She latched onto his arm like a barnacle, fake nails digging into his jacket. "I've been trying to reach you all week!"

Jack threw his head back, closing his eyes as if that might make her disappear. "Not today, Rebekah," he muttered, feeling every muscle in his jaw tense. His hand curled around the water glass the bartender had just set down, knuckles white.

"Oh, come on!" She pressed closer, her voice dropping to what she probably thought was a seductive whisper. "Just a few questions. I can help you clear the air about that nasty blog post. Make that gossip guru eat her words." She batted her eyelashes. "All I need is a teensy exclusive about what really happened with Serena."

Jack's laugh was hollow as he extracted his arm from her grip. "Right, because that worked out so well the last time." He took a long drink of water, adam's apple bobbing as he tried to maintain his composure. "No comment, Rebekah. Same as yesterday, and the day before that, and—"

"But Jackie—"

"Not happening." Jack's voice was firm as steel. "There's nothing to say, Rebekah. Not to you, not to anyone."

Rebekah huffed, her red lips turning down into a pout. She opened her mouth to protest again, but something in Jack's expression must have finally gotten through. With a dramatic sigh and flip of her hair, she clicked away on her stilettos, no doubt in search of easier prey.

Jack's shoulders dropped as tension bled out of them. He turned back to the bar, catching the mystery woman in black watching him in the mirror behind the bottles. When their eyes met, she didn't look away.

"That happen often?" she asked, taking a slow sip of her cosmopolitan.

Jack let out a dry laugh, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. "More than I'd like. Apparently, 'no comment' is journalist-speak for 'try harder.'" He paused, studying her reflection. "Though you don't seem like the pushy type."

"Maybe I'm just better at playing the long game." The corner of her mouth quirked up, and she turned to face him properly. "Besides, the real story usually isn't found in ambushing someone at a bar."

"Exactly." He found himself leaning against the bar, angling toward her. There was something about her that made him want to keep talking. "Like this blog post that went viral this week. Everyone's got an opinion about who I am, what I did wrong, but—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you probably haven't even seen it."

She hummed noncommittally, that almost-smile playing on her lips again. "I might have caught it. Though I tend to be more interested in the stories that don't make headlines."

"Like what?"

"Like why a professional hockey player spends his injury rehab teaching kids to skate in Harlem instead of lounging on some beach somewhere."

Jack blinked, caught off guard. He'd been careful about keeping that quiet. "How did you—"

"Just someone who pays attention," she said, gathering her clutch. "The real story isn't always the loudest one, is it?"

Before Jack could process what she meant, Luke's voice carried across the room. "Jack! Mom says get back here. Speech time!"

The woman in black slid off her barstool with practiced grace. "Sounds like you're needed elsewhere."

"Wait," Jack said, suddenly not wanting her to disappear into the crowd. "I didn't catch your name."

"Y/N," she offered, and for a moment, her smile was full and genuine. "Good luck with your speech, Jack.”

She moved past him, the subtle scent of her perfume lingering. Jack found himself watching her weave through the crowd, his mind replaying their conversation. There had been something different about her – the way she'd asked questions without really asking them, how she'd known about his volunteer work but hadn't tried to use it against him like Rebekah would have.

"Dude." Luke appeared at his elbow, poking him in the ribs. "Stop staring into space. Mom's going to kill us both if you're late for your own award."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Jack followed his brother back to their table, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd. He spotted her finally, sliding into a seat near the back beside another woman in black. As if sensing his gaze, she glanced up, raising her cosmopolitan in a small salute.

For the first time in weeks, Jack felt himself genuinely smile.

...

"...and with your continued support, we can make sure every kid who wants to play hockey has that chance, regardless of their circumstances. Thank you."

The ballroom erupted in applause. Jack's shoulders relaxed slightly – public speaking had never been his favorite part of the job, but at least this speech was about something that mattered.

Near the back of the room, Y/N leaned toward Alyssa. "We should go," she whispered, gathering her clutch. "We're not gonna get anything else tonight."

Alyssa nodded, already standing. "At least the champagne was good."

They slipped out as the crowd continued clapping, their heels clicking against the marble floors of The Plaza's ornate lobby. Y/N's mind was already spinning with how she'd write this up – not the puff piece everyone would expect, but something different. Something true.

"Y/N!"

The call echoed through the lobby, making her freeze mid-step. That voice – she'd just been listening to it give a speech about youth hockey programs and second chances.

She turned slowly, Alyssa's hand gripping her arm in surprise. Jack Hughes was jogging toward them, bow tie slightly askew, still slightly breathless from his speech. His hair was ruffled like he'd been running his hands through it, and there was a slight flush to his cheeks that hadn't been there at the bar.

"I—" he started, then seemed to realize he was still slightly out of breath. His hand came up to rest gently on her bare arm, the touch surprisingly warm. "Hey."

Y/N's eyebrows rose. "Hey yourself. Shouldn't you be back there accepting congratulations?"

He waved his free hand dismissively, though he didn't move the one on her arm. "They'll survive without me for a few minutes." His ice-blue eyes darted between her and Alyssa, a mix of nervousness and determination crossing his features. "You should come out with us. Both of you," he added quickly, offering Alyssa a genuine smile. "My teammates are headed to this bar just down the street. Nothing fancy, just... drinks. And conversation."

The way he said 'conversation' made Y/N's pulse quicken. There was weight behind it, meaning she couldn't quite decipher.

"I don't know," she started, but Alyssa cut her off.

"We'd love to," her supposed best friend said, ignoring Y/N's sharp look. "Lead the way, Hughes."

Jack's face broke into a grin that transformed his entire appearance. Gone was the serious hockey player from the podium, replaced by something younger, lighter. "Great! I just need to grab Luke and dodge my parents." He squeezed Y/N's arm gently before letting go. "Don't leave, okay? Five minutes, tops."

He was already backing away, that grin still in place. "Wait for me," he called out, just before turning.

Y/N waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Alyssa. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you the real story," Alyssa smirked, already typing on her phone. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. She thought about Jack's smile, the warmth of his hand on her arm, the way he'd said 'conversation' like he was offering something more than just drinks and small talk.

"Five minutes," she conceded, trying not to smile at Alyssa's triumphant expression. "But if this backfires, I'm blaming you."

"Honey," Alyssa linked their arms, steering them toward the bar's entrance. "Something tells me this is going to be the best story you've ever written."

...

The bass thrummed through Y/N's bones as they approached the club, the line wrapping around the building like a snake. Jack stayed close to her side, his presence warm and solid as they bypassed the queue entirely.

"Mr. Hughes," the security guard nodded, unhooking the velvet rope without hesitation. "Welcome back."

Inside, bodies packed the dance floor, but Jack navigated them through the crowd with practiced ease. His hand ghosted over Y/N's lower back, guiding her through the maze of people until they reached a raised section cordoned off with another rope. Several men Y/N recognized from hockey highlights were sprawled across the plush booths, drinks already flowing.

"Look who finally made it!" Luke called out, now free of his bow tie and jacket. "We were starting to think Mom trapped you in conversation with the Vanderbilts again."

"Barely escaped," Jack laughed, helping Y/N up the small steps before following. "Everyone, this is Y/N and Alyssa."

The team welcomed them warmly, shuffling to make space. Y/N found herself wedged between Jack and the booth's arm, hyperaware of every point where their bodies touched. Her notebook felt like it was burning a hole in her clutch.

"I'm telling you," one of the players – Miller, according to his heated gesture at his teammate – was saying, "game seven, '94 Finals. Best hockey game ever played."

"You weren't even born yet!" Another player – Thompson – argued back. "2010 Olympics, Canada versus USA. That's peak hockey right there."

"You're both wrong," Luke interjected, leaning forward. "2018 World Juniors, outdoor game. Nothing beats playing in actual snow."

"That's because you scored the winning goal, you biased little shit," Jack laughed, his arm sliding naturally along the booth behind Y/N. The movement brought him closer, his cologne mixing with the lingering scent of his aftershave.

"What about you?" he asked, turning those blue eyes on her. "You follow hockey long?"

"My dad used to play," she found herself saying truthfully. "Nothing professional, just beer league, but he loved it. Taught me to skate before I could walk."

Something in Jack's expression softened. "Mine too. Well, him and my mom..." He shifted, angling toward her more fully. "It's different now though, isn't it? The pressure. Everyone watching, waiting for you to mess up. Luke and Quinn, they get it, but we're barely home at the same time anymore. Summer's all we got, really. And even then..." He trailed off, vulnerability flickering across his features in the dim light.

Y/N's chest tightened. This wasn't the cocky player from the tabloids or the bitter ex-boyfriend from Serena's story. This was just... Jack. Raw and real and trusting her with pieces of himself she had no right to.

"I need a drink," she blurted, already sliding out of the booth. "Excuse me."

She practically fled to the bar, gripping the edge of it when she reached it. "Whiskey sour," she managed when the bartender looked her way. "Strong."

"Oh my god, Y/N!"

She turned to find Rebekah Chen stumbling slightly, clearly several drinks in. Her red dress was slightly askew, her lipstick smudged at one corner.

"Is Jack here?!" Rebekah's voice pitched high with excitement.

"No," Y/N said firmly, accepting her drink from the bartender. "He's not."

"Ugh." Rebekah deflated, then perked up again almost instantly. "But oh my god, you'll never believe what Serena told me about him." She leaned in conspiratorially, alcohol heavy on her breath. "He's a total player. Like, major cheater. She said he was always sliding into girls' DMs when they were together, coming to places like this..." She gestured around the club. "Getting with random girls behind her back."

Y/N's eyes widened despite herself. The Jack she'd just left didn't seem capable of that kind of betrayal, but...

"Yeah!" Rebekah pressed on, encouraged by Y/N's reaction. "Serena has receipts too. Screenshots, dates, everything. She's just waiting for the right moment to release them." She swayed slightly. "Guess the golden boy isn't so golden after all, right?"

Y/N's drink suddenly felt heavy in her hand. Behind her, she could hear Jack's laugh carrying over the music, warm and genuine. She thought about how carefully he'd helped her through the crowd, how softly he'd spoken about his brothers.

How absolutely screwed she was if she was starting to believe in him.

...

Tag List <3

message me to be added!

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

What do you think about the "kill notice" about the new Catherine pic? I looked at the picture, there doesn't seem to be any distortion or manipulation. Some filters have been used but nothing is misaligned or photoshopped in or out. No dodgy shadows. Wtf is with the reporters agreeing with it?? Is this a shady attempt to force Catherine to be out in the public sooner than she would like to be? Apparently the controversy is about her left hand and somewhere along Charlotte's left sleeve. Part of me feels it's because reporters know she is now well and are angry she isn't back to work and giving them content. But, the picture agencies pulled the pic, so what's with that?? Such an unnecessary controversy.

I think it’s much ado about nothing. A lot of what people are point out as edited can be explained away, such as:

Kids are wiggly so of course they’d be blurry.

It’s a still from a video or a Live Photo.

Kate isn’t wearing her rings because maybe her fingers are still swollen from all the post-op meds and steroids, or maybe she just doesn’t want to wear them.

It's a program/app on William’s phone that stitches together the best parts in a sequence of photos to fix a squirming kid. (Like Google’s Best Take feature, in which case it’s AI, not photoshop.)

But wait, what about that pap pic last week of Kate with all weight in her face looking unrecognizable, and now in this photo she looks like herself? It’s about camera angles and body positions. There’s a pose - I call it the goose pose - where if you tilt your upper body forward just slightly and push your head/chin all the way forward, the extra weight in your midsection, neck, and face disappears from the camera if the photo is being taken from the front. (When you do this pose and the picture is taken from the side, you look like a goose.)

It’s great that the wires all have standards and that they take it seriously but the “kill” request illustrates a bigger problem: that in todays age of photo editing, filters, and AI, is any photo we see real and original? Once you permit minor edits like removing dust (which is an AP allowance), it opens the door for other edits and who’s the authority to say what’s right or wrong? So it’s a sticky line.

The reporters are writing about it because they have nothing else to write about. The media makes a ton of money off Kate and the children (more than they care to admit) so of course they’re going to pick up on this and write about it. They’re desperate for Kate content because she sells.

[[Interrupting now to say that I've just seen the update from KP of Kate (scroll to the end) acknowledging the edits and apologizing for any issues. It's bullshit she had to do this but I understand why she did it: she's proud of her photography, it's her own picture she edited and not one from anyone else, and it's overshadowing the Commonwealth Service coverage.]]

I mean, it's no coincidence that a prolific royal fashion blogger notorious for bashing Kate while simultaneously profiting from her appearances and photographs announced she's taking a break to Easter. Other royal events are still happening. Other royals are still working. Other royal families are still working. But that doesn't matter: she makes her money from Kate and when Kate doesn't work, she can't make money. So why bother keeping up the blog?

Anyway, believe what you want to believe about the photograph, but just be ready for all of this to backfire. And trust me, it will backfire.

If it's true that the Sussex Squad is behind this, well, Meghan may work hard but karma works harder. Harry and Meghan's own photoshopping and photo-editing may become equally under fire: Harry's Friar Tuck bald spot is world famous and everyone knows about it, no matter how much photoshop they do.

If it's true that the media and social media is making this a bigger issue than it actually is (which it sounds like, given Kate's newest message), then reap the consequences of your actions: fewer pictures from Kate and fewer pictures of the Wales family. The chances are extraordinarily high that they'll stop sharing pictures of their family now. It's already happened - back in ye olde days, it was custom for the royal family to have a photo call during a ski holiday so the press pack could get their pictures and leave them alone. William and Kate did this in 2016 on a skiing holiday, and boom - immediate criticism. Now no more vacation photos.

If it's true that the reporters picked up on this to force Kate to returning to work sooner than expected, well, I hope Kate retreats further into the cocoon of privacy and doesn't give you the satisfaction of new birthday pictures.

If it's true that this is a sign of how shambolic KP's communications office is, then hopefully the right people learn the right lessons and make more professional decisions. We know Kate will. She always learns from her missteps, even if it takes some time.

If it's true that the wires and the press associations need to revise their rules because everyone edits, I hope they do. Trust me, there are more worrying matters about photo editing and AI manipulation to write and "kill" than a touched-up family photo of the future king's family posted to social media. This is not the hill to stake your professional reputation on.

But I guarantee you that the same people who are making a fuss about these photo edits that EVERYONE does are the same people who are moaning about the dearth of content from the Waleses and they're the same people who scream and shout when the Waleses don't do what they want them to do.

But at the end of the day, it's a family photo taken by a proud husband and dad, who probably made stupid cheesy jokes to make his kids laugh like that, which his wife and their mother edited to make sure everyone looks their best. Everyone does this. It's fucking normal.

It's much ado about fucking nothing and I hope that everyone, most especially the reporters, who fed into the hysteria understand what they've done. They've just signed the execution notice for Waleses family photos.

Kate's apology:

[fangsforiris]

Kanato Sakamaki HC’S

Word Count: 10,004 Included Topics: General, Looks, Hair, Body, Skincare, Makeup, Voice, Mentality, Family, Brides/Yui, Academics, Fashion, Magic & Bag.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [General]

🕯️ He has an uncanny interest in death and dead bodies. (Canon fact.)

🕯️ He likes watching Reiji bake. The way he so skillfully moves his fingers, and how he never questions his movements is fascinating.

🕯️ He listens to Melanie Martinez and Malice Mizer.

🕯️ He worked as Karlheinz’s secretary for a few years, starting when he was 13. He stopped when he was 16. 

🕯️ People in the Royal Court really liked him, and Karlheinz liked having a, in his words, ‘pretty thing’ next to him in every meeting. 

🕯️ Cordelia also worked as Karlheinz’s secretary when she first met him, before having an arranged marriage. She was a minor, while he was well into his 20’s. (Canon fact that he groomed her.)

🕯️ Karlheinz definitely forcibly feminizes Kanato. 

🕯️ As in, he definitely enjoys when he cross-dresses. Much to Kanato’s displeasure. 

🕯️→ It’s already established how horrible Karlheinz is, so I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that. 

🕯️ Kanato sometimes uses his looks to his advantage, such as getting things for free since people assume he’s a girl. Some of the things people bought him for free: drinks, clothing, makeup, jewelry, food, whatever it may be. 

🕯️ Him acting like a deer in the headlights also helps get him out of trouble. 

🕯️ Call it pretty privilege. 

🕯️ Once he and Ayato were trespassing and when an officer came up to them, he used his charms to get them both out of trouble. 

🕯️→ “Oi! You two, hands where I can see them.” The officer blared his flashlight at the two siblings, their eyes squinting from the sudden blindness. Ayato groaned, putting up his hands, “Ugh, what is it?”

🕯️→ Kanato slowly put his hands down, looking at the officer with big doe eyes, batting his eyelids slowly, “Oh! I’m so sorry officer… you see me and my brother got lost! I happened to drop my ring while we were here… and… I couldn’t find it.”

🕯️→ The officer stared at Kanato, his severe demeanour softening as he was temporarily struck by the innocent charm that radiated from him. “Lost, huh?” he mumbled, his voice no longer harsh. “Well, you two ought to have taken greater caution. Trespassing is a serious offense.”

🕯️→ Kanato nodded earnestly, his act of innocence unwavering. “Yes, officer, we understand,” he replied softly, his voice laced with feigned sincerity. “We'll be more careful next time, I promise.”

🕯️→ Ayato rolled his eyes, but remained silent as the officer sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, just make sure you don’t come back here again,” he warned, before turning to leave. “And find that ring quickly. We don’t want anyone else getting into trouble over it.”

🕯️→ As the officer left, Kanato let out a sigh of relief. “That was close.” Ayato turned to face Kanato, a smirk playing on his lips. “Too close, also–”

🕯️→ “Not another word,” Kanato interrupted sharply, shooting Ayato a warning glance. Ayato chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright then,” he knew better than to push his luck with Kanato when he was in one of his moods.

🕯️ Kanato often wonders about the possibility of going missing. It’s a fantasization of his to see if anyone truly cared about him. He’d also want to know if he’d make it out alive. It’s one of those dark thoughts that come up every once in a while, more so when he’s doing the dishes. 

🕯️ He definitely has one of those girl blogger accounts.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Looks]

🕯️ Kanato is obsessive about his appearance. 

🕯️ From afar you wouldn’t guess it, but Kanato cares a lot about his image, he wants every single thing about his appearance to be perfect. 

🕯️ He has a set image that he was to adhere to 24/7 and if just one thing is off he’ll spiral. (Think of Reiji with absolutely anything, but multiply it by 100x. It’s that bad.) 

🕯️ Kanato has very soft feminine features. 

🕯️ His obsession started because of his mother, who valued her looks along with his. Also partially influenced by those around him in the Royal Court, who at first glance, would identify the similarities between the two. 

🕯️ In fact, Karlheinz would be skeptical for a bit of Kanato’s true gender, finding it uncanny with the parallels surrounding his first wife and 4th son. He’d treat Kanato as a girl despite knowing later on that he isn’t. 

🕯️ This would partially add to Kanato’s slight (not really slight) insecurity of not being seen as ‘man enough’ or atleast a boy. 

🕯️ Since he looks the most like Cordelia, she would keep him on a strict regime so as to not ‘ruin her name.’ 

🕯️ Kanato’s desired image depicts a doll. He wants so badly to look and feel like a doll. In the sense that it’s hauntingly ethereal, and those who cast their gaze upon him are forced to stop and stare. 

🕯️ Almost like his mother, but part of him knows he doesn’t want anyone to see him in that sort of light. Just in the way that they can’t take their eyes off him, and are filled with envy of how surreal he is. 

🕯️ He wants his very entity to invoke a sense of surrealism. As if he came out of a 1900’s portrait, and just looking at him gives off an ‘out of body’ experience. 

🕯️ He prides himself dearly on his looks, but that also has its limitations. (Semi-canon fact.)

🕯️ Sometimes, he wonders how his life would be if he were to look more like his first cousins-once removed (Shin and Carla) and brothers. Would his mother still take pride in him the same way? 

🕯️ Because of him gaining Cordelia’s features, many upon first meeting assume he’s a girl. He gets upset at this, but other times he’d leave it be and proceed to accept it as a compliment. 

🕯️ He’s also pretty short, especially compared to his brothers, so the shock factor from others when discovering he’s a boy also adds to the whole ‘Kanato Experience.’ 

🕯️ TW!! He is used to being catcalled and harassed because of his looks. These are the moments where he wonders if it’s a curse or a blessing to look so much like his mother. 

🕯️ TW!! Due to this, he understands both perspectives, both men and women, and has slight empathy towards their struggles. (Slight. As this is still Kanato we’re talking about.) 

🕯️ TW!! But he has only felt true fear when he was placed in a situation where he happened to be barricaded and incapable of fighting them off. He wondered how he was so powerless, as his hands shook and his body trembled. How he was so quick to become prey instead of the predator. 

🕯️ TW!! He’s had some close calls of being assaulted, especially with the majority of men who are physically larger and stronger than him, but has been saved by older women and couples. 

🕯️ TW!! After this happens, he is usually filled with feelings of resentment and self-loathing. Such as → ‘Why was I so weak? I am no mortal.’ and ‘If the others saw me, they’d call me pathetic– I was pathetic.’ 

🕯️ TW!! Kanato would rather die or skin himself alive than admit he’d been placed in such a situation far too many times for his liking. With countless close calls at that. He wouldn’t want to be seen as a victim like Laito, and definitely not be doted on with the focus of his weakness being called into question. 

🕯️ Because of this, on his days out into the town/out of the house, he carries pepper spray and a small retractable pink combat knife. Just in case his vampiric strength isn’t enough. 

🕯️ Slight TW!! Kanato has been catcalled by Ayato and Laito, before the former two would realize and profusely apologize for mistaking him for a girl. It was embarrassing when he happened to be at the dessert cafe he particularly enjoys in Vandead Carnival, picking up macaroons for Laito and him, when his two brothers started hitting on him out of nowhere. 

🕯️ Ayato would initially not talk to him for a week, making a point to avoid him in every single room they both happened to enter, before Kanato would throw his Teddy at him. 

🕯️ Laito on the other hand, would laugh it off. But inside he’d somewhat hate himself and think back to the similarities towards Kanato and their mother. It’d make him feel more uncomfortable if anything. 

🕯️ Upon first meeting, the Mukami’s would assume Kanato was a girl as well. They’d find out the hard way when Kanato rejects both Yūma and Kou’s advances and Ayato pipes in to get them away from his brother. 

🕯️→ “Oi! Kanato ain’t a girl, that’s my brother, you half-blooded creeps!” 

🕯️→ “Didn’t you and Laito also mistake him for some chick…?”  Shuu would retort, causing the former to go silent and red, while Laito waves his hands dismissively, giving small uncomfortable chuckles. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Hair]

🕯️ He prides himself on his purple hair (Canon fact.) 

🕯️ His hair is kept at a medium length, sometimes reaching his collarbone. 

🕯️ Kanato trims his hair every month. 

🕯️ He has a step by step hair care routine.

🕯️ He washes his hair 1-2 times a week.

🕯️His hair is naturally silky smooth, however it’s more flat in comparison to having volume (smooth > volume, flat > fluffy.) 

🕯️ Shockingly, out of the triplets he has the best hygiene, even going as far to rival Reiji in that department. 

🕯️ He likes to smell like strawberries and vanilla. The light, cute scents that many associate with those girls from shoujo mangas. He absolutely adores it. 

🕯️ He owns high grade shampoo, conditioner, hair masks, hair oils, and even purple shampoo just in case his natural colour lightens even more to his dismay. 

🕯️ He makes sure to wash, shampoo and condition his hair correctly, ensuring that he doesn’t get back acne or neck acne from leaving the product to suck into the skin. 

🕯️ It’s one of his pet peeves to have acne there, and also upsets him greatly when feeling an unnecessary bump on his ‘need to be’ smooth porcelain skin. 

🕯️ Kanato takes an ‘everything shower’ every end of the month, which includes him staying in the shower for 2-3 hours on end, deeply perfecting everything. 

🕯️ This heavily annoys the others, as he tends to take long, hot, excruciating showers which drains the hot water and ups the water bill each month. (To Shuu and Reiji’s dismay.)

🕯️ But make no mistake, Kanato benefits from the hot steam of the shower in comparison to just submerging his entire body in it. If he did, his entire body would be pruned up. Not a good look for his tastes. 

🕯️ His hair used to be darker, a more accurate colour match to Cordelia’s, but overtime due to stress, it lightened. 

🕯️ He prides his hair— and so does his mother. On most nights when she wasn’t dealing with Laito, she’d stay in his room, make Kanato sit in front of his vanity on his chair, and brush his hair. 

���️ It was an intimate moment for the two of them where their relationship grew. Oftentimes she’d take solace in these moments and reveal information about herself that no one else would hear. And Kanato would listen. 

🕯️ It was like their own little secret. Their thing that nobody else could take away from them. 

🕯️ This is where Kanato would find his likability to being seen as and called ‘a doll.’ 

🕯️ Cordelia would oftentimes refer to him as her doll or just the nickname ‘doll.’ 

🕯️→ “My little doll, you’re like Mommy when you’re quiet like this.”

🕯️→ “Am I, Mother?”

🕯️→ Cordelia would smile fondly, “Most definitely. You’re lucky to look like me, you know? Who else would dare to pay attention to you or your talents otherwise.”

🕯️→ Kanato would turn his head when he noticed his mother stop, the brush still clutched in her hands. He met her eyes, “I am?”

🕯️→ She’d put the brush down on the vanity, motioning towards the mirror where the two saw their reflection. Emerald green and pure lilac glew, its prominent glow reflecting off the mirror in the dark room, causing the latter to blink for good measure. Kanato would focus diligently, watching for what his mother had to say next. “Yes. Would you like to know a secret, doll?”

🕯️→ He’d nod, “You’ve always been my favourite. Your brothers just don’t have what I and everyone else sees in you.” His eyes would sparkle at that comment, leaving Cordelia to play with his hair.

🕯️→ “I’m… Mommy’s favourite?” The woman smiled, moving her hand to caress her son’s face, the looking glass delaying, “You will always be Mommy’s favourite.”

🕯️ He would never tell anyone of those nights, especially her admittance to him being her favourite. It was one of the secrets he’d take to the grave. 

🕯️→ (This reminded me of the audio on TikTok: My father is the worst person in the world; and I’m his favourite daughter.) 

🕯️ After Cordelia died, he’d sometimes hold his hair and play with it the same way she did to remember the fond memories and secrets they’ve shared. 

🕯️ After his makeup routine, he would style his hair accordingly. 

🕯️ He normally lets his hair air dry, mainly to prevent heat damage. 

🕯️ But in the slight occurrence he absolutely has to use a hairdryer, he will. 

🕯️ He always brushes his hair every time before bed, and in the morning. Exactly 12 strokes each time. Don’t ask. He simply thought the number was perfect for his hair and always does the trick every time. 

🕯️ His hair doesn’t usually tangle. 

🕯️ Kanato uses mousse on his hair when he wants the definition of volume. After this, he’d style his side bangs accordingly. 

🕯️ Sometimes he’d clip his side bangs to the side with his cute clips. The girls at school love this. They eat it up every time. Some even ask for hair tips as his hair is always shiny and well kept. 

🕯️ He always has a comb in his bag, just in case if his hair gets messy. He also keeps portable, travel sized, hair care products. 

🕯️ You know those hair gel glue sticks mainly used for fly aways? He 100% uses them and brings them in his small bag everywhere he goes. He can’t stand the fact that if one thing is wrong, it’ll tear him apart. 

🕯️ Kanato absolutely hates frizzy hair. He does everything to prevent it. Another reason why he isn’t as fond of the rain, it messes up his hair. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Body]

🕯️ Kanato has a slim body. 

🕯️ Almost like the ballerina type, but more towards the feminine side of things. 

🕯️ He has long legs, with his torso being a bit more shorter than he’d like. All of this adds to the doll vibe he wants, though. 

🕯️ His neck isn’t that long, and his head is an appropriate size (in his opinion.)

🕯️ He’s more bony if anything, due to his unhealthy tendencies. 

🕯️ His ribcage can almost be seen, but that doesn’t stop the fact that his waist is still defined. 

🕯️ Put simply, he has a bony version of an hourglass figure. There’s fat, but it’s heavily set on the ‘almost anorexic’ side of the scale, especially defined by doctors and the countless physicians that have attended him. 

🕯️ When comparing his mother and him, she really shines when comparing their bodies. It’s like that’s the one thing the genes had to dominate. If he were a woman, their bodies would be exactly the same. Only major difference is Kanato lacks the fat on his body. 

🕯️ It freaks him out sometimes with how skin tight his body happens to appear. But that also gratifies him. Knowing that whatever it is he’s doing is working, makes for a great remedy in a psychotic episode. 

🕯️ Kanato really is almost like skin and bones. It does add to the living doll thing, though. 

🕯️ His collarbone is quite defined, along with his broad-set shoulders. 

🕯️ His complexion is quite fair. 

🕯️ He doesn’t have any known birthmarks to him, his skin is like a blank canvas. 

🕯️ His favourite part of his body are his hands and lips. There’s just something about the fragility of the two that intrigue him. 

🕯️ He loves the natural curve of his lips, the way that it can easily be rosier by biting it or putting more product on it. 

🕯️ It’s obsessive the way he tends to his lips. Always subjecting it to lip scrubs, and moistures. He really likes the way they perfect his face. 

🕯️ Kanato’s hands. Where to begin? He likes the way they’re thin and long. Not too long, that would freak him out. But just enough to allow him to examine them in a deeper context. 

🕯️ He does his best to not bruise them as bad, and if he were to, he’d want to have a contrast of red and pink splotches on his knuckles. He absolutely loves the contrast of the fair skin to the bruised bits. That goes for anyone. 

🕯️ His nails are always maintained. Always done. Either professionally or himself, he can’t catch himself falling short of his list of long expectations for himself. 

🕯️ They’re always filed nicely, and he always keeps his cuticles pushed back. 

🕯️ It’s always a medium length, perfect if he needed to open anything, pick a lock, or defend himself. He especially likes when he sees the damage his nails can cause his victims. 

🕯️ What he doesn’t like is cleaning the dried up blood from his nails. He hates the dirt and grime, but alas such pleasures do have consequences. 

🕯️ Speaking of, he normally paints his nails. Like you’ll never see him without painted nails. If they aren’t painted, someone call the ambulance immediately. 

🕯️ Kanato usually paints them sheer colours. Queue the jelly nail polish. He loves the pink ones, and how it delivers contrasts to his sickly pale hands. 

🕯️ He’ll do other colours, and even full ones but you’ll definitely see this boy with his signature pink. 

🕯️ He’ll even go as far as adding glitter. He loves the sparkly look, it reminds him of what he majorly missed out as a child. 

🕯️ Kanato has 2 ear piercings. One on both ears for his central lobe, the other on both ears as a helix.

🕯️ This was because he was pressured by Ayato and Laito to get another piercing and ‘live a little.’ They used it as a bonding exercise. 

🕯️ Kanato likes to act like he hates it, but secretly he enjoys the variety of earring combinations he can experiment with. 

🕯️ He mainly goes for diamond glittery earrings that don’t dangle as much. Mainly studs. However if it was a special event, then he’d have more of a statement earring in.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Skincare]

🕯️ He has a set skincare routine.

🕯️ He does his skin care every night. He never misses a day. 

🕯️ Kanato has dry skin, but not as sensitive. 

🕯️ He usually uses moisturizers to hydrate his skin, followed by a hydrating serum which is notably his favourite part of his routine. He likes the way he can squeeze the tube connected to the cap of the bottle, how squishy and malleable it is. 

🕯️ Also the way the serum falls on his face, he has no idea why that particularly catches his attention, but he’s fine with it nonetheless. 

🕯️ Kanato despises his eye bags, loathes it even, so you know he’s dead-set on doing everything possible to get rid of them, or atleast make them not as noticeable. They really hinder with the whole ‘doll-look’ he’s trying to viciously obtain. Queue the eye cream and patches. 

🕯️ Shockingly, they do wonders. And anything that isn’t as covered is covered by his makeup routine (mainly his colour correcting concealer and skin-tint light coverage foundation.) 

🕯️ He has very clear skin, and rarely gets acne/pimples. He is only second to having the best skin out of his brothers, the first being Shuu. 

🕯️ The skin care he uses is bought in small quantities, the only thing he regularly buys in bulk are his eye cream and patches. 

🕯️ He always starts his skincare routine by drenching his face in an ice-cold ice bath for 10 minutes, to reduce any puffiness he might have. 

🕯️ Kanato wears contacts most days, only resorting to his glasses if he absolutely has to. His glasses are black cat eye framed. He used to have a rose gold frame but he didn’t like how washed out it made his skin. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Makeup]

🕯️ He uses makeup 100% (How else will he keep up his doll-like image?)

🕯️ He never needs to use any high coverage foundation considering that his skin is quite clear. He uses a light coverage skin-tint. 

🕯️ Considering that his complexion is more on the gray-side, he makes it a point to go outside in the sun more often without his umbrella.

🕯️ Because of this, he uses products with shade ranges that keep his very fair skin satiated. 

🕯️ Kanato’s concealer usage mainly goes to colour correcting and removing his eye bags. Everything else is fine in his eyes, it’s just his over dramatic, very dragged out and accentuated eye bags that make his face feel dragged out. 

🕯️ His contouring is quite limited, as he only applies his contour stick to accentuate his jaw, nose, and forehead. He’s satisfied with a softer approach as he prefers softer features in comparison to sharper. 

🕯️ This goes for both himself, and any sacrificial bride/potential love interest he’d set his eyes on. 

🕯️ He uses press powder. Kanato loves dipping his cushion into the powder, pushing and dabbing it onto his face and watching as some of the dust would collect around him in the air. 

🕯️ It’s like those old movies he’d watch with his brothers when they were younger, where the woman would enjoy having their makeup montage. It’s that satisfaction that allows him to revel in his routine. 

🕯️ Once he’s finished with that, his blush takes the center stage. He uses a moderately tinted blush, but uses only a small limited amount so as to not overpower his facial symmetry. It also tends to bring colour to his face and make him feel ‘alive’ so it’s extra important he gets it right. 

🕯️ Kanato also uses the powder blush found in the palettes. 

🕯️ He once tried liquid blush but instantly hated it as he could never get the timing right for how much he needed. Palette is much easier, safer, and plus, he enjoys seeing the product collect on the makeup brush, and tapping it ever so slightly for pan fallout. 

🕯️ His eyes. His absolute favourite part of doing his makeup every single time is the eye makeup. From eyeshadow, to mascara, to the eyeliner. It’s perfection. 

🕯️ He starts with his eyeshadow. He usually uses K-Beauty, considering that the K-Pop idols there have great taste for the glittery glam he’s looking for. It ranges from what he’s feeling, but most of the time you’ll see him with small copious amounts of glitter adorning his eyelids. 

🕯️ And it’s always perfection, seriously, he never misses. It’s often a fan favourite with the girls at school. 

🕯️ Kanato would start with a base colour, blending it with another before adding the small glitter adornments. He usually drifts towards soft pinks, but will use the pastels for blue and purple. 

🕯️ He never uses any of the brighter/riskier colours/shades. He prefers the softer, more pastel colours that add to his appeal. The browns/neutrals are okay too. 

🕯️ Next, his eyeliner. He tends to go for the middle ground. He has great precision, and always hits the mark on the first try. A signature cat-eyeliner is something he’d never dare to leave the house without. 

🕯️ For his lids, he uses liquid liner. For his water line, both top and bottom, a crayon/kajol based mixture. He does this to lessen the load of his already big eyes. 

🕯️ On the top, he strictly uses black. On the bottom? A combination of black and white to obtain his doll look. Near his inner corner close to his nose, he adds more white, then it blends as he reaches a half-way point before he transitions to black. 

🕯️ Admittedly, it was a lot of trial and error but once he got the hang of it, he looked more like a doll than he did bare-faced. 

🕯️ Finally, his mascara. He tends to use a waterproof mascara because of his tantrums. In the past he tried other colours than black, but found that he didn’t like them as much as the effect black had on him. 

🕯️ Also good to note that his eyelashes are long. Like you’d assume he got them done, but then be shocked that it’s all natural. Definitely one of the points many girls are jealous of. 

🕯️ Since his lips aren’t as rosy as he’d like them, he uses lip tints and red-pink lip glosses. Sometimes he’d go the matte look with his lips, others he enjoys the pop of lip gloss. 

🕯️ It’s a pet peeve to have chapped lips. He hates it. Doesn’t matter who has them, it’s hatred all around. Because of this, he keeps extra chapstick (strawberry flavoured, obviously) for his brothers when he sees them. 

🕯️→ “Eh? What’s this, Kanato?”  Laito would ponder, seeing the chapstick being thrust into his hands and a bratty Kanato turning his head away to face the walls of the limo. His arms crossed across his chest as if to prove his point further. 

🕯️→ “Your lips. Fix it.”  Laito would raise an eyebrow, moving his gaze to examine the chapstick. A smirk would grow as he read the label. ‘Strawberry-flavoured.’

🕯️→ “Whatever is the matter with my–”  Kanato would turn his body, glaring at him before moving closer to Laito. “This is the problem. Please, fix it immediately,”  Kanato would retort, pressing a gloved finger to Laito’s chipping lips, hoping to accentuate his dire point. 

🕯️→ “Oh? My, I had no idea you were so bold, Kanato!”  Laito would chuckle, as he watched his younger brother bat his eyes in confusion before a slight blush creeped up on his face. His frustration building too, no doubt. 

🕯️→ “Laito. Now.”  He was now back to his seating, and after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Laito would give in. 

🕯️→ He’d take off the cap, take in the potent strawberry scent and apply the chapstick to his lips, instantly hydrating and moistening them. Kanato would look back, huffing contently before a sly remark would slip by Laito’s lips, “Mmm, strawberry! How delightful.” A pause, “Is this your subtle way of admitting you’ve been dreaming about kissing me, dear brother?”

🕯️→ Kanato’s eyes would widen, “Huh? Don’t be absurd.”

🕯️→ “Hm, your loss~”  Laito flicked his tongue, tasting some of the strawberry flavour. 

🕯️ Kanato would then apply his highlighter. Always blended in, mainly on the tip of his nose, cheeks, and inner corners of his eyes. It’s a white iridescent highlighter, but sometimes he’d use a light pink tinted one if he runs out. 

🕯️ His setting spray is light, making it easy for him to not feel as overstimulated. 

🕯️ He always carries the travel sized perfume bottles in his bag so he’ll be well prepared, especially after gym class. He isn’t fond of smelling bad. 

🕯️ Strawberry or vanilla is his go to. But many would report him smelling a fond strawberry, making that his signature scent. 

🕯️ He always cleans his makeup brushes every 2-3 weeks. He hates the idea of any bacteria or dirt ruining his face. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Voice]

🕯️ He has a lighter/higher voice compared to the others, which he definitely hates (but sometimes is at peace with.) 

🕯️ It’s the type that can be light and airy, almost like a girl, but have that small bit of depth when frustrated.

🕯️ Make no mistake, it’s higher than most, which causes him to be mistaken for a girl a lot. (That is, without the looks.)

🕯️ Due to his childhood, his vocal chords are most definitely strained. 

🕯️ As in, he’s a few steps away from becoming mute. But this doesn’t stop him from letting one of his soul-crushing screams out. (Which undoubtedly, adds pressure to his throat, which makes it unbearable hot and sometimes itchy.)

🕯️ In fact, he was forced to sing until his vocal chords started to bleed, filling his mouth and throat with his own blood which definitely tore tissues apart. (Canon fact.) 

🕯️ Sometimes his voice gives out, making him choose silence and only stepping in when he thinks he absolutely has to. 

🕯️ Despite what most think, Ayato and Laito do listen to him in hopes of keeping the peace. 

🕯️ They even take his opinion into account because if Kanato is the voice of reason, then there’s definitely something off and they need to reevaluate themselves. 

🕯️ Kanato drinks a lot of herbal teas, it’s normal for Laito or Reiji (mostly Laito) to make him some because of his strained vocal chords. 

🕯️ Kanato prefers lavender and honey teas, always with 2 and a half sugar cubes. Must be hot but never piping hot to the point where he’ll burn his tongue. 

🕯️ He hates burning his tongue while drinking teas. It makes him have somewhat of a lisp and Ayato teases him about not being careful enough. 

🕯️ He will notice if the tea is not exactly to his liking. If not immediately. 

🕯️ Ayato once tried to make him his tea, and before tasting it, he could smell that something was off. He didn’t add the specific ‘half’ of the sugar cube. Kanato was upset and refused to talk to Ayato for a week, while Ayato profusely apologized since he knew it was a very sore subject. 

🕯️→ (Empathetic as always, Ayato.)

🕯️ Kanato and Reiji regularly drink tea together in the living room, or in Reiji’s office. It’s the one time where Reiji notably enjoy’s Kanato’s company as he isn't as psychotic as he normally comes across. He’s tame, relaxed, and soothed. 

🕯️ Reiji unconsciously finds himself comforted and reveals some of his internal turmoil whilst in Kanato’s presence. There’s just something about the gentle, relaxing presence of Kanato that seems to soothe everyone in the room. As if he can control the entire energy and mood of a room whilst he’s in this state. 

🕯️ Since they’re always together, Laito will become his voice (talk for Kanato) when he cannot, especially when he’s nervous to talk to someone new/foreign to him. 

🕯️ Kanato’s vocal range is very versatile. 

🕯️ He can sing in very high tones, accomplishing high notes with a smooth, steady, and clear confidence. 

🕯️ Ever since the accident with his strained vocal chords, he doesn’t sing as much as he used to. 

🕯️ However, if you saw him in his prime, you’d be filled with envy and shock in an instant. 

🕯️ His singing voice was powerful, it could be light, shrill, and gentle, but also accomplish heightened feats. 

🕯️ He and Shuu did a joint performance at a ball, Shuu played the piano, and Kanato sang whilst sitting atop of the piano. Shuu secretly still has a recording of this performance, unbeknownst to Kanato, and listens to it when he wants to be calmed. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Mentality]

IMMENSE TW HERE!! 

🕯️ He has severe attachment issues. 

🕯️ Kanato keeps a large assortment of stuffed toys, each with their own distinct name and personality. He’s afraid that if a person were to leave him, he wouldn’t be able to cope, thus turning to inanimate objects to fill the void.

🕯️ → After all, living people can let you down, but how can inanimate objects do the same? 

🕯️ Hence the wax dolls of all the brides he’s ever claimed. He’d like to make them look beautiful, even in their restless display of a tomb. 

🕯️→ It’s the least he could do after claiming their soul, isn’t it? 

🕯️ He also has abandonment issues which stemmed from his childhood. 

🕯️ He stopped placing faith in his brothers when he slowly watched them drift farther away from him, and closer to each other. 

🕯️ Seemingly, almost everyone in his life who he treasured left him high and dry, so he stays away and chooses not to form any deeper connections due to his fear of being left again. 

🕯️ Sometimes he mourns the person he could’ve been if he hadn’t been a vampire. If he could be considered a ‘morally good’ person, that is. 

🕯️ Kanato also mourns the family he could’ve had, if he were dealt better cards. 

🕯️ Admittedly, the facade that he keeps up is wearing on him. He finds it emotionally draining to always be on edge and be in competition with his brothers. 

🕯️ The hostility that floods the air is always suffocating, but he knows that no one wants to change, so he plays the part of ‘the hysteric’ to the best degree before he entirely burns himself out. 

🕯️ His entire ‘hysteric’ facade is just that. An act. He only does it so he’d have a defining feature for him like his other brothers, and because it made people weary and afraid of him. 

🕯️ It took away all the unwanted attention off him, especially from those with gazes that lingered a bit too long on his body for his comfort. 

🕯️ He’s very insecure of his eyebags, voice, wrists, and shockingly his weight. 

🕯️ TW!! He has self-harmed before for attention, just to be seen by his mother and not be cast aside like Reiji. (Canon fact.) 

🕯️ When his mother found out, she was furious. She complained ruthlessly, making Kanato feel even worse about himself than he did when he started.  

🕯️ He hates his self-harm scars, despite being a vampire with self-healing, they never seemed to go away.

🕯️ TW!! There are light cuts on his wrists, nearing the veins.

🕯️ He never had the courage to cut anywhere else. It scared him, but he’d never admit that. 

🕯️ TW!! Once he cut too deeply, which made the vein burst. He stopped cutting after that, and after his mother scolded him for ‘ruining his body.’ 

🕯️ Ayato and Laito have no idea of his past self-harming tendencies. His half-brothers also don’t. 

🕯️ Laito has theorized that his early comments in their childhood got to Kanato, so he has a lingering feeling that Kanato did call his bluff. (That is, to encourage Kanato to self-harm for said attention.) [Canon fact.]

🕯️ Nonetheless, he always wears long sleeves and translucent gloves which are sheer and skin tight. They cover his scars slightly, however they aren’t the best method of choice.

🕯️ Kanato wouldn’t admit he’s suicidal, however when compairing himself to the others, he doesn’t find a reason as to why he could be deemed as important.

🕯️ He feels constantly pushed away, so if he were to die, he’d be okay and at ease with it. 

🕯️ But he doesn’t go chasing death constantly. He wants to die, but will let it happen when it happens. 

🕯️ Kind of like Shuu in this case. 

🕯️ His voice may fit the doll-like criteria he places upon himself, however it doesn’t stop the fact that he wishes he could’ve been born a bit more masculine like his brothers so he wouldn’t have to resort to this aesthetic he’s plastered upon himself. 

🕯️ That, and paired with the fact that his voice doesn’t make it easier when people would harass him, assuming he’s a girl. 

🕯️ TW!! Kanato has an eating-disorder. 

🕯️ TW!! This was entirely orchestrated by none other than Cordelia herself. Due to her strict standards, and the constant pressure he put on himself to obtain the ‘perfect doll look,’ he started purging. 

🕯️ All of the desserts he eats would be thrown up, allowing him to ensure his body won’t be ‘ruined’ as his mother used to say. 

🕯️ This habit has gotten so bad and risky that Yui has started to notice a pattern, especially when he’d leave their shared Psychology class at a set time every day. Or how he’d barely eat anything at their monthly dinners and during lunch. He even took lengthy pauses for his blood drinking for good measures. 

🕯️ TW!! Kanato would push his fingers down his throat viciously, uncaring of how the medium length nails scratched at his throat, or how blood started to strain his fingertips and fill his windpipe. After all, he’d throw it all up anyways. 

🕯️ → Yūma happened to be in the bathroom one night, washing his hands as he heard the sounds of strained coughs and retching over the toilet bowl. He couldn’t make out the shoes, and whom they belonged to, but he could tell it was bad. 

🕯️→ When the stall door opened, he laid eyes on Kanato, with small tears staining his baked face, he stiffened. He kept washing his hands as Kanato used the faucet next to him, pressing his hand on the soap dispenser. 

🕯️→ “Um.. are you.. ok?”  Yūma would dare, watching as the smaller boy paid him little mind. 

🕯️→ “Yes. I simply ate something bad, that’s all.”  Kanato was quick, almost too quick with his reply. Yūma narrowed his eyes, before flicking his hands, opting to air dry instead. 

🕯️→ He took in Kanato’s figure, and how shaky he happened to be. What’s more, his hazel gaze traced over Kanato’s wrists, and the small, strategic cuts. If it were anything to go by, that wasn’t normal. Living with Azusa taught you that much. 

🕯️→ “Are you sure? Come to think of it, yer’ pretty pale–”  “I am fine.”  Kanato would swiftly cut the taller man off, not wanting to hear anymore of it, as he took out his makeup pouch and proceeded to fix up his appearance. 

🕯️→ Yūma was stunned, not only at the quick defensive position the boy took, but also at a closer glance for how out of shape he was. He was skinny, too skinny. Even by vampiric standards. His wrists were sticks, and his uniform looked a size or two oversized. 

🕯️→ “Look, I know it ain’t none of my business–”  Kanato stopped what he was doing and turned to meet Yūma. Yūma and his pathetic worried gaze. He planned his next words out carefully, “It isn’t, you’re correct about that much. I am fine. I ate too many parfaits, alright? I don’t appreciate the interrogation.” 

🕯️→ Yūma just stared at him blankly, “Yeah. I can’t force you to say anything, can I?”  Kanato would nod, before finishing his makeup and making a bee-line for the door. “But, you can talk to me if somethins’ botherin’ you… you know that.. right?”  

🕯️→ Yūma kept his eyes trained on the door, more importantly, the figure that stopped. A few tense moments of stillness would then pass before Kanato would murmur, “Yeah, of course.”  

🕯️→ Yūma would watch the door open and close, leaving him alone to reflect about what to do with this newfound knowledge. And if Kanato’s response to his aid was honestly sincere. 

🕯️ Kanato’s eye bags have to be one of the biggest things he hates. He wishes it could instantly go away. He gets enough sleep as is (he thinks?) So why won’t they leave? 

🕯️ Kanato definitely has insomnia. Hence the immense annoyance of said eyebags.

🕯️ He’s had it ever since he was a kid and all he wishes is for it to leave so he could at least look half as decent as the rest of his family. 

🕯️ When Yūma teases him by calling him ‘Eye-Bags’ he feels another bit of his self-esteem shatter. He hates it so much, and is one of the leading causes for his self-loathing. 

🕯️ He smokes. He loves the feeling of nicotine and how he makes him feel more alive.

🕯️ He has BPD.

🕯️ He secretly takes meds for them, but once Yui came to the house, Ayato had accidentally thrown them out thinking they were expired muscle relaxer pills which led Kanato to stay unstable and manic.

🕯️ He knows he needs therapy. However he doesn’t know how he could ever bring that up to Reiji. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Family]

🕯️ Kanato knows that Laito and Ayato avoid him due to the consistent parallels between him and their mother. 

🕯️ The two think they’ve done a good job at hiding their resentment and slight fear but Kanato can see right through them.

🕯️ Kanato oftentimes mourns the relationship he could’ve had with Ayato and Laito, especially if he wasn’t a carbon copy of their mother.

🕯️ He’d look at old photographs of the three when they were happier and at better terms, then is awakened by the harsh reality that they don’t like him.

🕯️ Oh yeah. They aren’t as fond as Kanato as they’d like to portray. This is mainly because of the similarities between their mother and him. 

🕯️ So everytime Laito pours Kanato a cup of his lavender-honey tea, the latter thinks about how Laito may truly feel to be next to someone who reminds him so much of his trauma.

🕯️ Laito is often uncomfortable with Kanato’s existence. Just because they look alike. If Kanato had the green eyes? Well Laito and Ayato would go into shock. 

🕯️ Ayato only tolerates Kanato because he feels that he has to. Not because he immensely cares as much. (Although, he stays empathetic towards their outcome.)

🕯️ Kanato wishes that he didn’t look like Cordelia on some nights. Especially on the nights where the triplets get into arguments and Ayato ends up saying what they’re all thinking.

🕯️→ “Yeah? Well it ain’t us who looks exactly like our mother! You even act like her too, Kanato.”

🕯️→ The three would all go quiet, with Kanato shaking as he’s registering what Ayato said. He wasn’t his mother. He wasn’t.

🕯️→ “Kanato… I didn’t—”  Ayato choked, “No. You’ve made your point.”  Kanato would leave the room. Leaving a shocked Ayato and silent Laito.

🕯️→ Kanato wouldn’t hear anyone out, and would actively ignore the two before Ayato and Laito trap him on the roof of the school one night during lunch.

🕯️→ “What do you two want?”  Kanato would start, looking at his brothers in annoyance. “We.. we wanted to talk.”  Ayato would chip in, “It’s been a week, Kanato. You cannot seriously expect to win by ignoring us like this, hm?” And Laito would finish. 

🕯️→ “What is there left to say?” Kanato snapped, turning aside to look out at the schoolyard. Ayato let out a softened sigh. “We know we messed up, alright,” he said, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. “But we’re brothers, Kanato.”

🕯️→ Laito’s normally sardonic grin softened as he nodded. With a soft tone, he continued, “We apologize. We went too far.” Emotions seething inside Kanato, his shoulders stiffened. Silence enveloped them, heavy with unspoken tension.

🕯️→ Kanato gave in with a deep breath. He mumbled, “Fine,” his voice barely audible.

🕯️ Subaru once mindlessly let it slip that Kanato deeply resembled his mother while practicing magic. That sent Kanato into a spiral and he stayed up for a week staring at himself through his vanity mirror. 

🕯️ Kanato smokes. Especially with Cordelia. The two would normally go outside in the rose gardens on especially hard days and smoke together. 

🕯️ He started smoking when he was 13, when Cordelia offered him a pack. This is what also strengthened their relationship. 

🕯️ When she died, he started to smoke more. Not because of the guilt or anything, but because he found it to be a remedy for stress. 

🕯️ None of his brothers know that he smokes.

🕯️ He highly values Reiji’s opinion, especially because he’s been there more for him than his own blood brothers have. 

🕯️ He’s slightly jealous of the closer relationship Ayato and Laito have.

🕯️ Cordelia mainly manipulated him a lot. When looking back he wonders how naive he was to believe everything she said. 

🕯️ Karlheinz sometimes mistakes Kanato for Cordelia. Even he isn’t immune to their similarities. 

🕯️ Like when Kanato worked as his secretary, he found himself calling Cordelia’s name instead of Kanato’s, and instantly shutting up after he realizes what he said. This leaves Kanato feeling dumbfounded with the one question resting on his mind, ‘Am I really that similar to her?’ 

🕯️ Kanato would later find out that his mother also worked as his secretary, making the two even more similar than they already appear, much to his dismay. 

🕯️→ “Cordelia, my dear, could you fetch those reports for me?”  Karlheinz's request was gentle, laced with familiarity.

🕯️→ With a stilled hand, Kanato’s breath caught in his throat. Despite a sense of unease, he forced a tight-lipped smile. His voice strained, “Right away, Father.”

🕯️→ Kanato felt the atmosphere change as he made his way to get the reports. He glanced back and saw Karlheinz’s expression go blank as an understanding dawned in his eyes. His brief expression of perplexity as he tried to comprehend his error spoke volumes.

🕯️ Karlheinz wonders if he wants Kanato as an option for the Adam and Eve plan because of Cordelia and Kanato parallels. There’s a small selfish feeling that lingers, making him want to keep Kanato all for himself. 

🕯️ Kanato definitely had to deal with Karlheinz’s weird/creepy advances.  🕯️→ It’s canon that he’s a bit creepy, and definitely messed up, so take that as you’d like.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Brides/Yui]

🕯️His relationship with any sacrificial bride as of late has been at face value. He knows that the way he treats others, especially as a lesser being, is partially motivated by how others have viewed him his entire life. 

🕯️ Kanato simply doesn’t know how to begin changing for the better, so the cycle continues. He’s in an environment that promotes the very bad behaviours that he’s identified. That is, in everyone (the brothers), and in himself. 

🕯️ There was one sacrificial bride before Yui, perhaps ten years before she arrived, who made him hyper aware of what he and his brothers were doing. 

🕯️ The monsters that they were. 

🕯️ That was the first time he ever thought to reevaluate himself as an individual, especially with the bride who would do everything to make him understand that everyone has at least a little bit of humanity in them. 

🕯️ He’d recall the way his father treated the wives, and the way his mother would treat him. It would send him into a spiral, before opting to lessen the way he reacts. 

🕯️ This unknown bride amongst the thousands that have entered the Sakamaki Mansion would die, however at the hands of Laito. 

🕯️ Now that was a turning point for Kanato. It was shocking how that so easily proved the bride’s point, yet he felt so empty about the whole ordeal. 

🕯️ Kanato vowed to remember that bride, name and all. She is also the centerpiece of his wax doll collection, the one who’s perfect in every way. He owes her that much. 

🕯️ He viewed her as a friend if anything. That is, if mortals and immortals could be friends. 

🕯️ He also vowed to figure out how to turn his life around for the better once given the chance. He often thinks about her, and now with Yui here, he thinks that now is the chance to break the cycle. 

🕯️ He often thinks about her a lot. Like she rests constantly on his mind, almost like a lingering repressed feeling.

🕯️ Kanato doesn’t think he could ever be loved. Like for everything, flaws and all. 

🕯️ So when Yui comes around, talking him about everything he does well and how he has a good side, he has no idea if she’s being genuine or if she wants something from him, and only wants to use him just like everyone else has. 

🕯️ He wants Yui to be happy, in his own way of course. But part of him knows that it’ll never be with him. His obsessive tendencies, especially when it comes to love, is the main driving point which pushes people away. 

🕯️ It’ll take him a bit to understand that fully, but once he comes to that settlement, he’ll be okay with giving Yui to one of his brothers. After all, most of the sacrificial brides choose them anyways, so how would this be any different? 

🕯️ When he finds out Yui has Cordelia’s heart, he almost is hurt. Considering how that’s the woman he shared most of his vulnerability with, and who exploited it. 

🕯️ He wonders if Cordelia can talk to Yui in her mind, or subconscious. Considering that they’re two souls in one body. 

🕯️ The more he thinks about it, the more he’s unsettled by the fact that she, the entire time, has taken a backseat and listened to every confidential conversation like some unauthorized third-party. 

🕯️ When he meets Yui, and hears of her temporary permanence within the house, he instantly thinks back to his redemption that the old bride talked about. 

🕯️ After all, there won’t be any more after Yui, right? This can be his chance to make the change he wants. All he has to do… is not get attached. 

🕯️ This is easier said than done, considering how Yui’s blood is almost irresistible. 

🕯️ During the awakening, when Yui would feel pains, Kanato would as well. Since he has her magic and all. 

🕯️ He’d have migraines that would go on for days on end, and the pain in his chest? Unbearable. 

🕯️ Yui and Kanato would have that one thing in common at least, being remnants of Cordelia.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Academics]

🕯️ Kanato is much smarter than he appears. He usually plays dumb to ensure that he isn’t found in any trouble.

🕯️ He’s really good at physics and math. Like a prodigy. The only reason why he hides it is because his mother often said if his true IQ was revealed, it’d put him at risk of being seen as competition and potential execution.

🕯️ He is quite good at the sciences, which is often a conversation point whenever he participates in class. 

🕯️ He always makes it a point to participate at least once for every class he attends. Doesn’t matter how, just knowing that he did one thing is all the motivation he needs to continue. 

🕯️ His schedule is as follows: 

🕯️→ Semester 1: Advanced Functions (Math), Psychology, Physics, Chemistry.

🕯️→ Semester 2: Advanced English, Japanese, Accounting (Business), Calculus and Vectors (Math). 

🕯️ Kanato has Psychology with Yui and often sits in the middle row, considering how he uses glasses. 

🕯️ Yui finds him much more bearable and engaged when in Psychology. 

🕯️ She even willing wanted to be his partner for a project. He accepted and they got the highest grade in the class. 

🕯️ For all of his classes he tries to sit in the middle row. 

🕯️ Karlheinz forces all the boys to take at least one business course so they’ll be prepared if any of them need to take over the family business. Kanato chose accounting since it’s closest to math and he enjoys it. 

🕯️ Since he took Functions (year 2 math course) during summer school, he is in the 3rd year Advanced Functions course. Reiji, Ruki, Carla and Shuu are in his class. 

🕯️ He once corrected Reiji on an answer while he was writing it on the board, to Reiji’s surprise Kanato was right and the teacher applauded Kanato for spotting his mistake. 

🕯️ Reiji, Ruki, and Carla were shocked to know that Kanato’s test scores were pretty high. He even beat Reiji and Ruki, getting 100%. 

🕯️ Shuu couldn’t care less since he barely shows up. He only shows up for tests, which he aces every time. This always pisses Reiji off. 

🕯️ Reiji and Carla are in his Calculus and Vectors class. 

🕯️ Laito is in his Advanced English class, often times he’ll tease him for working but becomes shocked when looking over at his essay for peer editing. (He barely has any mistakes.)

🕯️ Ayato and Kou are in his Japanese class. It’s especially tiring when he has to deal with the two bickering over Yui. 

🕯️ During lunch, you’ll see him and Subaru eating desserts together. Kanato likes the quiet comfort Subaru offers, and Subaru likes the companionship. 

🕯️ If those two aren’t together then it’s Laito and Kanato, however Laito usually ditches him at school. 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Fashion]

🕯️ He’s really good at sewing. So good that he’s made his own clothes, and even could start a small business. (Canon fact.) 

🕯️ He has a small business for clothing. He takes commissions and creates magic. This is mainly done online and his website is the cutest. Kanato really cares about the small, little, intricate details. 

🕯️ He’s made clothing items for himself, Reiji, and sometimes anyone else who asks.

🕯️ Just by looking at someone, he can instantly tell what their measurements are.

🕯️ He loves the Victorian Gothic aesthetic/clothing.

🕯️ This boy loves VKEI. The clothing for him is total eye candy. 

🕯️ Kanato also enjoys the ‘dark coquette’ style.

🕯️ He likes ruffles and embroidered cuffs of sleeves, along with pretty brooches that fit his outfits perfectly. 

🕯️ His shoes have a ½ inch booster insole added in. He adores the clack and click in shoes when he walks, it makes him feel important. 

🕯️ His shoes also have a hidden blade inside, making it accessible to him if he needs to protect himself or fight back. 

🕯️ Kanato is obsessed with shiny jewelry. You’d assume he was a crow. 

🕯️ After his mother died, she left most of her jewelry to Kanato. Most days you’ll see him wear her iconic jade brooch. The one that’s shaped like a flower, with 14k gold detailing. It’s one of his most prized possessions. 

🕯️ He especially likes ancient jewels, the ones that carry magical properties. 

🕯️ Sometimes Kanato will cross dress. He does like the fabrics and can tell what instantly suits him. However everytime he does, for whatever reason (if it’s to get something for someone else, or he’s forced,) he feels that small insecurity taunting him that he’s not and never will be ‘man enough.’ 

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Magic]

🕯️ After Cordelia died, all her remaining magic/mana/powers transferred to Kanato, making him like the ‘last living remnant’ of Cordelia (not including the obvious— Yui.)

🕯️ He is really good at using magic, he’s the best out of all his brothers.

🕯️ People usually go to him if they need help with it.

🕯️ He’s memorized countless spell books, even the ones his late mother left him.

🕯️ He has pyrokinesis (Canon fact.) [Fire magic/can control fire.]

🕯️ He can perform soul transfer. (Canon fact.)

🕯️ Kanato loves contacting the other realm (realm of the dead,) he finds it interesting to hear the stories they tell.

🕯️ He has an ‘all seeing eye.’ Basically allows him to see ghosts and the dead.

🕯️ He found this out when he was 5, playing with his dolls and he saw an unknown woman sitting on his bed. She was covered in blood and she had an ax in her skull.

🕯️ This terrified him, but he mustered up the courage to acknowledge her existence.

🕯️ She didn’t say anything, just nodded to his questions. Once he brought this up to his mother but she forced him to never speak of this ability again.

🕯️→ Perhaps she was afraid? Who knows. Definitely not Kanato. 

🕯️ So whenever you see him leaving an extra seat available, another cup of tea, or bowing as a greeting to a seemingly empty space— he’s acknowledging the ghosts that linger in the home.

🕯️ To his surprise, many of the brides linger. He does his best to pay his respects. He at least has some decency to not upset the dead. (Especially since they can pay it back in full.)

🕯️ The main hot spots in the home are near Reiji’s study, the hallway that leads to the grand ballroom, and the torture chamber located far beneath the house. 

🕯️ Once, Reiji realized most of his supplies were misplaced in his laboratory. Turns out it was one of the brides he’d killed years ago who’d done it. Kanato never told him that, and Ayato was blamed and punished. 

🕯️ In his early years, many doctors assumed he had schizophrenia.

🕯️ He was heavily medicated for a while which messed with his cognitive functions.

🕯️ Kanato regularly uses magic, even for the small, simple things. Like turning on lights, closing doors, that stuff. 

🕯️ He feels that his magic is apart of him, so he really values it.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

⇘ : : [Bag]

Ever wondered what’s in Kanato’s bag? School Bag? Here you have it.

🕯️ Kanato has two bags. His school bag, and his small purse. (Yes he has a purse. But never call it that, it’s a man-purse. He will get insecure and embarrassed immediately.) 

🕯️ In his school bag all of his binders are colour coded, along with his notes.

🕯️ Everything is perfectly organized, from his notes for each class, to his homework and old tests. 

🕯️ He colour codes his notes for each subject, along with the homework assigned. 

🕯️ He takes pride in his note taking skills, since they’re very aesthetic. 

🕯️ Kanato keeps a reusable water bottle with him. Most are shocked that he even drinks water to begin with, but what they don’t know is how it does wonders for his skin. 

🕯️ He also brings his laptop with him every day to school. Sometimes he’ll forget his charger, but normally his classmates let him borrow theirs. 

🕯️ His hand-writing is sometimes messy but their legible. He’s secretly doing practice to improve his cursive. 

🕯️ His pencil case is filled with those over the top cute supplies. As in, he’ll have a teddy bear eraser, and cute highlights and pencil crayons. 

🕯️ In his school bag he also carries his purse. 

🕯️ His purse consists of his wallet (it’s this cute polar bear), his makeup pouch, his medication (pills), and travel sized combs. 

🕯️ Kanato’s makeup pouch has all of his normal makeup products but condensed to travel size. He loves his perfumes, so it’s always going to be there since he runs out of them quite easily. 

🕯️ As always, the strawberry chapstick is there for himself, his brothers, and anyone else he sees that desperately needs it. Like no joke, he’s a chapstick warrior. He’s like Santa, but for chapstick. No one knows how he has the space for it, but it’s like a never-ending supply. 

🕯️ Kanato also keeps his nail polish in his bag, in a small side component.  

🕯️ Once he started to paint his nails in psychology, and the teacher directed the topic onto the psychological effects of red nail polish. It was interesting and he found himself amused that he could cause such a commotion based on one small thing. 

I hope you stars like some of my personal HC's for Kanato. This took me two days, since I really had to think deeper about how I perceive his character.

Credits to the artist of the Kanato fanart!!

Lmk if you guys would be interested in any other HC's!!

[anshares]

He Xuan a niche mukbang youtuber suddenly gets an invite to do a collab video by a super popular influencer who also happens to be his online crush!

How will he survive this?!

Click more for full plot!

Modern AU Youtubers - (M/F Flavor Beefleaf)

He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan are Youtubers, the former runs a mukbang and cooking channel and goes by the handle name BlackWater but fans call him Mingyi, his color preferences (and home decor) are mostly in black.

He has pet piranhas, he talks about them most of the time while streaming the cooking segment. His favorite is King Crab Legs; it is often featured in his mukbang videos.

He Xuan is super picky with food, some isn't up to his taste so he learned how to prepare it, hence the cooking channel segment. He also accepts requests from his fans on which food he’ll make next because hey more food to discover and eat for him.

He has a decent following but not that popular, he’s been a niche youtuber for 2 years now.

While the latter is a super popular youtuber who goes by the handle name Windy, the make up master she runs a makeup tutorial channel where she also shares her skin and hair care regimen.

Also does some daily life vlogs occasionally. Shi Qingxuan has a million subscribers and followers on all her socials, she is sponsored by various companies (sometimes her brother’s business partners) and does product giveaways.

She shows a peppy persona which her fans love, always wears fashionable outfits and takes a lot of selfies. She has an older brother who is a business tycoon but he doesn’t support her vlogging work but there’s nothing he can do about it.

Hua Cheng is He Xuan's agent (and debt collector), they knew each other for quite a long time now and can communicate by facial expressions,

Also the piranhas are the reason why He Xuan is in debt with Hua Cheng (that and his equipment are all sponsored by Hua Cheng) and Xie lian is SQX manager and agent, they were best friends back in college.

Fun Fact:

SQX text with lots of emojis a text from her ain't complete without those, if there's no emoji that means it's serious or she is going through something. He xuan text dry one word responses.

Xie lian would probably types so formally with complete sentences with no grammatical error, that's why his text ends up so essay-like

Hua Cheng is full of shortcuts sometimes with numbers.

He Xuan was doing one of his live mukbang when suddenly he chokes on food (it became a viral meme btw), it's because he got a certain notif that a certain popular user followed him so he got shocked and choked on his food. He was happy that one of his fave bloggers followed him back.

They sometimes interact in the comments section. SQX enjoys his vids and often comments on it

Sqx: omg!!!! 🤩🤩🤩 thats so awesome how did you do that?!?!?!!? (゜ロ゜)!!ヽ(ﾟдﾟヽ)(ﾉﾟдﾟ)ﾉ!! You truly are amazing ming-xiong (*/□＼*)

Hx: Thanks

Their agents suggested that they do a collab video so SQX being the way she is super friendly and open to new things reached out first and sent him a DM to invite him into doing a collab with her

where He Xuan will voice over SQX makeup routine and SQX will do the spicy wing challenge (cooked by He Xuan). He Xuan accepted of course it's not everyday that your favorite youtuber (and crush) invites you to do a collaboration with them.

The funny thing is He xuan was SQX fan first and he saw her as a rival vlogger, kinda hate her at first because he found her peppy persona annoying but after a while he got endeared to it

so when she offered to do a collab he jumped for joy all over the room before sitting down and sending a very dry OK to her in response to the collab offer. Hua Cheng just gave him a side eye for being a weirdo.

It was their first time meeting in real life and SQX thought that HX is handsome in person and had a “Oh no he is hot!!” moment. She actually found one of HX videos while she was trying to find food recipes on the internet.

Her brother is on a business trip and XL was sleeping over but being a terrible cook and calamity of the kitchen she took matters into her own hands to avoid food poisoning (never again she swears)

Hua Cheng trolls HX all the time by introducing him or calling HX to SQX as “your biggest fan” or “your secret admirer” and HX denies all allegations with a straight face "I like her a normal amount, I'm not a crazed fan"

but got worried if sqx hated him afterwards because of how he seemed cold in their first meeting.

They are about to shoot their first video collab which is the Spicy wing Challenge, he wants to impress her with his cooking skills.

SQX watches Ming-xiong (she calls him that) prepare and cook the food and the progression of her reaction from heart eyes (because c'mon have you seen him he is hot, such an eye candy and preparing food just for her) to

Oh shit I'm gonna die because of the amount of spice being put into the chicken. Basically she went from (🤩😍🙂😰😨😱) because of the pure hellish torture that awaits her.

He Xuan wants to prepare his favorite dish for the girl of his dreams but didn’t know her shit spice tolerance level and his only taste tester is hua cheng who has dead taste buds who likes the lunch that XL prepared an ominous violet looking food(?)

Off cam

Xl: here san lang do you want to have a taste *ominous looking violet goop*

San lang: i would be honored gege

Sqx: NO! WAIT DON--

HC: *looking fine and even liked it* it's very delicious gege

Sqx: what the?? He must have a stomach made of steel

Hx: *nods in agreement*

She was gonna go easy with HX but then the spicy wings incident happened so she went with a Goth makeup routine as revenge for making her eat Mt. Tonglu level spicy food but

she made HX too pretty and it went viral. Viewers got a moment of internal confusion over live chat because of the viral vid HX got a lot of subscribers.

Afterwards they do a lot of collabs and she posts their selfies on insta (dates under the guise of collab vid shooting). Also while shopping SQX buys them silly earrings, Fish bone for HX and leaf for her.

People started to wonder if they were because of their insane chemistry, their fans started calling them beefleaf (they may also use that as titles for their collab videos, SQX idea because she likes the name and emoji for it.)

It's actually their agents who are dating now not them, NOPE NEVER

also before Hualian dated during one of the “double date” aka collab vid shootin. They also do Q & A livestream

Question: Are you two dating?

SQX: Nope, this is my GOOD FRIEND Ming-xiong

HX: we are not friends

SQX: Ming xiong you are so mean!!!

HX: I don't want to be friends with you

SQX: WWWHYYYYYYY??!?!?! AFTER ALL WE'VE BEEN THROUGH??!?!?!?

Viewers: *Eye emoji* our ship is sailing

viewers can see what HX means but Ms. Windy cant, you have a long way to go Ming-xiong……Fighting!

He Xuan also asked XL what he liked about HC but the way XL describe Hua Cheng is soo….makes him like a dream boat so HX is confused if they are still talking about the same person…

Also he xuan being in denial of his feelings he tries to take an online quiz to find out that he is indeed in love with SQX

Windy went on a short hiatus because one anonymous user (Reverend of Empty Words) kept harassing her and leaves negative comments on all her videos, she tried to ignore it but it became too much.

HX will make a video called “Reading Windy’s Hate Comments and Proving Haters Wrong) he will roast so hard, he did this when SQX was down in the dumps because of that anonymous user.

XL sents the YT link to SQX who is avoiding social media at the moment to cheer her friend up. The anti was mass reported and taken down.

After the reverend's empty words fiasco, she starts seeing him as a man because he supported and defended her and was there for her at her lowest.

She now changed his contact name for HX it is now Ming-xiong ❤️❤️❤️

Cue in SQX vid series of “how to seduce your good friend” plus throw in how to mix and match outfit and make up tutorial in there too but it becomes a running gag that Shi wudu cockblocks them and it's not staged.

They shoot over SQX house cuz she has a bigger kitchen for another cooking segment but ofc SQX has a different goal here, she asks HX to teach her how to cook so there are plenty of being in close contact as he guides her how to use a knife.

She thinks she is the one being seduced instead, beefleaf fans are eating it up and request they do more domestic stuff. The beefleaf fandom watches old videos to see who liked who first so like when they got to that origin vid of that meme of his.

They'll probably see the live chat on the side of the video and see the "coincidence" and right timing of when he choked. Blackwater fans thought it's because he ate to fast back then BUT OH BOI IT WAS ACTUALLY WHEN BEEFLEAF STARTED. It'll probably be named beefleaf day.

SQX likes reading their meta and analysis of the beefleaf videos and how He Xuan subtle hints, SQX may not notice but the fans do and they are great source of info for SQX but ofc she needs affirmation from HX own mouth because all of these are fan speculations by the end of the day.

Only their agents know this but Beefleaf have each other as their phone wallpaper (candid cooking photo of HX for SQX and SQX Selfie for HX) its because they always caught them staring and do a pining sigh at their phones multiple times a day.

Ever since they started the cooking show with the both of them, HX always wears the “kiss the cook" apron he got from HC as a prank gift.

SQX thinks about it a lot should she be straight forward and just go for it but then again she doesn’t want their current relationship ruined just cuz she read his signals wrong…

Hualian are the mods of the beefleaf fan page. Crimson rain makes merch and scrap collector provides scarily accurate meta about beefleaf, All in the name of supporting their friend /investment. Xl gives SQX beefleaf merch pretending that he found it at cons.

Also people are starting to wonder if HC and HX are just business partners or friends, they bicker like siblings but when asked if "Are you sure you two aren't friends?" They just deny it and just say that their relationship is based on money/business.

HC claims that He Xuan has debts to pay to him, which is true. He has to lay the cost of the apartment studio, camera equipment, Food ingredients, restaurant bills and pet care that He Xuan owes him.

XL and SQX think that HC and HX are besties.

During the pining era sqx tries to be proactive and make her feelings obvious hoping that he xuan will take a hint. She also sought the advice of xie lian and hua cheng about this and created a 10 step confession plan, psyched herself up and tried to encourage herself. Prepared for it and all.

She is going all in!! She is getting her man and confess her feelings!!! And then they will date and be happy if not well she will call xie lian and ask to buy 2 tubs of ice cream while she marathons romcom films but NO NEGATIVITY HERE only good things SHE WILL SUCCEED she swears it.

So here they are grocery shopping for their next vid, they are picking out ingredients (so domestic she thinks it'll be even better once she nabs him and becomes her boyfriend)

she hopes that he xuan notices her outfit and makeup and new perfume something gentle cuz he likes those but all she got is a deadpan stare

(on the inside he xuan is internal screaming like is there something up today why is she all dressed up and extra pretty does this woman know what she is doing to his heart pls have mercy on this poor man's soul)

the confession is so normal and sudden, she was planning to like after grocery shopping they go out and eat and she will confess at this beautiful park after they left the groceries in the car.

Okay grocery shopping done. Check

Retouched makeup check and eyeliner is on point

Finding the right moment. Working on it. So while in the parking lot loading up their groceries in the car,

she asked he xuan if they could go to the park and like walk around for a lil while she said she found it while browsing on the internet and she wants to check it out for their other collab vids if its a nice place and he xuan just suddenly goes, "sure thing babe"

*record scratch* hold on rewind did she hear right??? he xuan doesnt use pet names and he called her babe?! WHAT IS HAPPENING!?!?!

Sqx: wait...what did you just call me?? say it again

He xuan: say what again?

Sqx: dont play dumb! You called me babe!!

He xuan: yeah and?

*sqx turns into a goldfish due to her being shocked speechless

Sqx: i.. huh-- what?? Omg?? Wait hold on give me a minute you want me to be your babe???? Did i hear right???

Hx: you heard right....

Sqx: 0////////0

Hx:I'm sorry if you don't like it we could pretend i -

Sqx: WAIT JUST A MINUTE I DIDN'T SAY I DID NOT LIKE IT I WAS JUST SHOCKED! And btw yes ill be your babe

Then theyll hug or kiss him on the cheek shyly

Also While they are hugging

Sqx: you meeaaaniieeeee, i made a ten step confession plan and tried to find a park to set up the romantic atmosphere but you beat me to it in the middle of a parking lot too!!!!!

Hx: *chuckles*

Now that they are dating they are contemplating whether or not they should announce it right away to their fans but at the same time they just want to keep it to themselves, so they decided to just tell the fans later but…they are really bad at hiding it…

So they are doing one of their cooking videos again (it's one of the most requested videos of the beefleaf fans they love gow domestic it is and all) so he xuan cooking segments always feature sqx now and the kiss the cook apron (but this time she will kiss the cook)

So he xuan be like pass me the salt so sqx does and he be like thanks hun and sqx kisses him on the cheek you're welcome with a bright smile.

Off cam he xuan cooks for sqx so this became a normal thing for them that they forgot they are doing it live so they froze for a moment and saw the chat went wild

"Omfg did you see that they kissed"

"Noooo waaaayyyy"

"Incoherent screaming"

"Askgheulgjodafaidj6akdsy"

"My ship is canon!!!!!!!!!"

Then beefleaf be like hahah well there's no use hiding it now, he xuan hugs her from behind as she says

"Yes beefleaf is now canon"

-THE END-

[laurentidal]

I have to admit, it's been very helpful in my kink journey to see bloggers and creators like you who represent the other side of the power dynamic. I haven't fully come to terms with my kinks, especially with the ethics around mind control and transformation, which has led me to keep it all online and never engage in real life.

Knowing that there are people out there who genuinely find these kinks arousing and see it as an extension of their submission helped me overcome the impression that my desires are abnormal.

Your writing is very good. Please keep it up

This is the kindest thing anyone's ever sent me! I'm thrilled to have been a part of your journey.

I feel like the MC community is always hyper-aware of the ethical balancing act in which we're constantly flirting, but I also think we're better for it. This is the corner of the web where I see the most discussion of the importance of consent which is obviously a function of how the fantasies and stories and roleplay very often display the removal or suppression of consent as a feature rather than a bug.

But that's all they are. Fantasies. Stories. Play.

There's a doc-series on Netflix called Sex, Explained which I really can't recommend enough. There's a women on there that discusses things like how people with rape-fantasies or other things close to this genre of smut feel real guilt about it. And she goes on to say that there is absolutely NO correlation between "extreme" sexual fantasy and personal ethics.

She end by saying something to the effect of, "If you're wondering what this says about you as a person, the answer is really not much at all."

Hearing that from an expert kind of healed something in me.

Kink is morally neutral. Enjoy it! The key is to always establish boundaries and expectations at the top, so that consent is still the rule for play.

And please keep dropping by my page! The likes and reblogs and comments and asks make the dopamine go brrrr and puts a smile on my face.

[megamindsecretlair]

I See Red

Pairing: Black Noir x Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Primal dom Black Noir, Dark elements. Cursing, PIV, SMUT, fingering (fem receiving), bratty reader. Black Noir and reader is aroused by hunting/being hunted. Sorry if I missed others. No spoilers for Season 4.

Summary: You filled in for your friend, working as a server during a party featuring Vought leadership and Supes. All night, you've been playing with Black Noir. Who's hunting who when you lure him out into the garden maze? 

AO3 Link

Word count: 2,664k

A/N: WHEW, sometimes when the feral hounds get to howling, I must answer that call. My fam was in rare form tonight so I'll take it as my sign to chill out lol. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @chaos-4baby @00aijia00 @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @twocentuar @umber-cinders @planetblaque

God, your feet hurt. You had been working the party all night, working hard to keep Supe’s drowning in liquor and drugs and the Vought leadership blissfully in lust chasing after them. This was your last fucking party. Your friend could keep this gig. You didn’t need money that badly.

You’ll miss exploring rich mansions, though. This was the closest you’d ever get to knowing how the other half lived. They took all of this acreage for granted. It was an everyday sight to them. They looked at the lush gardens and intricate pathways and saw the money they hemorrhaged trying to keep it afloat. To impress other rich pricks who had too much money and time on their hands. You’d love to have their problems. 

You snagged a glass of champagne from the kitchen, intending to take your break out in the gardens in the back of the mansion. The lighting was softer out here, muted in such a way to give it a hazy, dreamlike look. 

The gardens out here boasted rich purples, bright pinks, and summery oranges. There were still some people out here, giggling and glasses clinking somewhere in the distance. The air was chilly, near frigid, but felt amazing on your overheated skin. 

The soft, shimmery cherry red dress you wore tickled your thick thighs as you took off your heels and padded down the stone steps towards the maze. You discarded your empty glass on the pillar at the bottom of the steps. The maze had instantly grabbed your attention as you received the “don’t fuck up” talk from the manager, Elliot. He was an ass, thought himself more important than God, but all you did was tune him out as you looked towards the maze.

You took the last step and then hopped quickly onto the grassy knoll, the ground too cold for your aching feet. You sighed as your toes squished in the grass, a light mist making your feet wet. But that was okay. The dew added to the atmosphere and if you closed your eyes, you’d swear that you stepped into another world.

The maze loomed above you, hedges taller than ten feet. Perhaps bigger. You looked behind you to check for anyone nearby. Your eyes snagged on Black Noir standing outside the doors you just exited. 

Your heart skipped a beat, drinking him in. He was so mysterious. But with an obvious, dangerous swagger like he could snap your neck in half and then carry about his day like it didn’t faze him. All night, you felt like he was watching you. All night, you dodged from room to room just to see what he’d do.

He’d stalk from room to room right after you. Sometimes you let him catch you. He’d sidle up next to you and tilt his head, never saying anything. It was his whole thing. But you wondered what his voice sounded like. Or what he looked like. He could be horrendous underneath the stretch of black across his face. 

No one with that much presence could be ugly right? You blamed your mask kink as you waited for Black Noir to zero in on you before taking off into the maze. You turned and turned, scurrying down pathways whether they lead somewhere or not. You weren’t sure how big the maze was, but that made it more exciting.

Clouds of breath escaped you as your imagination took off. You knew Black Noir was behind you somewhere. When would he catch you? What would you let him do if he did? 

You ducked down a few more pathways, nothing but the stars and moon to guide you overhead. This was nuts. This was one of the wildest things you’d ever done. But when would you ever get the chance to do this? Since this was the last party you covered for your friend, you intended to go out with a bang. 

You giggled to yourself at your wild thoughts before covering your mouth with your hand. This was a supe you were up against. You weren’t quite sure about his powers and that only added to the thrill. 

Did your red dress give you away? A twig snapped behind you and you whirled around, expecting to see Black Noir. There was nothing. Nothing but hedges surrounding you. The light hoot of an owl. A breeze ruffled your flyaway hairs, a sheen of sweat settling between your breasts and on the back of your legs. 

A rustling noise made you duck down a nearby pathway, spurned to fleeing at the prospect of being hunted by Black Noir. He was usually quiet as a church mouse. Were these sounds due to natural critters in the maze? Or was Black Noir playing with you? 

Your thighs tingled and your pussy throbbed. You thought you took enough turns, you were completely lost. You weren’t sure how he could find you in this. You controlled your breathing, stepped quietly, and you kept your eyes pricked for any sign of movement. 

You turned down one final path that led to the middle of the maze. Set in a wide square, the middle had a few benches and a fountain. There was a statue in the middle of the fountain, a young naked maiden pouring water from a giant pot in her hands. Her hair flowed down the middle of her back, inlaid with stone flowers. 

Shit like this was wasted on the rich. You could spend eternity here just cataloging all of the details on the statue. Was it Greek inspired? You stepped closer, momentarily forgetting that you were trying to entice Black Noir. 

Remembering that, you inched closer to the entrance. You looked both ways and then turned to the fountain. The water trickled and the breeze turned biting. 

You sighed. Maybe he wasn’t interested. Maybe he was tired of the chase. Maybe you played hard to get for one minute too long and Black Noir found someone more willing. You pouted and gave one final look at the fountain.

The cool smell of leather wafted to your nose as a gloved hand clamped down over your mouth. You tried screaming, but it was muffled by his hand. You struggled, fighting, clawing to get free but the solid mountain behind you was unforgiving. 

You looked up and back, into the visor of Black Noir. You still struggled, more excited than scared this time. Black Noir wrapped a large arm around your middle and yanked you from the ground. Your feet kicked, trying to connect with his legs but he was an expert. He held you far enough away where you couldn’t touch him.

Black Noir suddenly let you go. You dropped to your feet with a huff before turning around and backing away from him. Black Noir tilted his head and stalked forward. 

“Found me,” you said and smiled, holding up a hand to ward him off. 

Black Noir nodded.

“I was hoping you would,” you said. You felt silly, like you were talking to yourself. But Black Noir tilted his head again, like he was questioning your statement. You bit your lip, not answering him. 

You really wanted to hear his voice. But then again, half the fun would be gone. Once you knew who was underneath, it’d ruin the mystery and the intrigue. You backed away all the way to the fountain. The edge of the fountain hit the back of your thighs and you stopped. No more room. 

Not unless you wanted to try running around him. You looked past him and Black Noir stepped into your line of sight. You giggled. “Not gonna let me get away again?” You asked.

Black Noir shook his head. 

“How will you get me to stay?” You asked.

Black Noir cracked his neck, rolling it, before stepping to the side in a wide stance, somehow making himself look bigger. More intimidating. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, thumping harshly in your veins. 

You feinted to the left and Black Noir jerked to the side. You giggled, doing the same thing on your right and Black Noir cut off your escape. You grinned as you pretended to run to the right, turning at the last minute, and dodging Noir’s outstretched hands. You did it! You were free!

That feeling was short-lived as Noir scooped you up by your middle, lifting you and walking backwards until you were right back where you started. He dropped you at the edge of the fountain, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanked you back.

The moan escaped you way too fast. You wanted to be coy. Wanted to drag this out and be a smoking hot target. Instead, you were just too damn needy. 

Noir put his face close to yours. Not a word. He nudged your exposed neck with his nose while his free hand ghosted across your chest. You stuck your boobs out, wanting him to do more than this. 

He ignored you, moving his hand to grab a handful of your tummy and squeeze. You moaned again, rubbing your backside against his front. 

Noir moved his hand to lift up your dress, cupping your mound and squeezing. “Fuck!” You moaned out. No mercy. He squeezed to the point of pain, savoring your cries, before rubbing your pussy over your panties. 

“More, more, please,” you cried out. 

Noir pushed your panties down your legs, only giving you enough slack on your hair to let you kick them off. Your skin was on fire. Blood boiling. Pussy throbbing. 

Noir pushed you forward and the palms of your hands stung from the rough stone of the fountain. Your breaths came out in shuddering waves as you were bent over the railing. Noir kept his hold on your hair while you heard his zipper ripping through the night air. 

Noir breathed harshly. A sound! It should not thrill you this much to get a hint of a sound out of him, but fuck. This was going to fuel your fantasies for months. Possibly even years. 

Noir gasped as he removed his glove. You couldn’t see his hand. It was too dark. But you did feel as he moved his fingers through your dripping folds. You moaned, legs giving out. Noir pulled your hair until you stood up straighter and you cried out. 

He wasn��t pulling hard enough to do any real damage. Just a little sting. Just enough force to show you that he was in control. 

Noir continued to play with your pussy, rubbing his fingers around your clit and inside your entrance. You leaked all over him, creating a neat little river that began to leak down your legs. 

Noir pulled your hair. “Oh god, feels so good. So good. So damn good,” you chattered, not sure what you were saying and not truly giving a fuck. This was the most fun you’d ever had during sex. You wished that you could freeze this moment. Or expand it, stretch time as long as you need to in order to experience this for as long as possible. 

You were racing towards an orgasm in no time, screaming into the night like a wild banshee. Who cared who was around at the moment? They were all getting their rocks off, it was only fitting that you did as well. 

Noir continued to finger you, continued pumping his long, thick fingers inside and drawing out another orgasm. 

“Please, please,” you whimpered, not sure what you were begging for. Each orgasm was too quick, too short. Not enough, not nearly enough. You rubbed onto Noir like a purring cat, rubbed your ass against his armor clad groin. 

Another harsh gasp from him. He pushed you forward until you were fully bent over the fountain. He grabbed your hip and pulled you against him. He worked his pants down low enough, slapping a big dick against your wet pussy.

The wet slapping sounds were loud. You had so much slick dripping out of you. He rubbed his dick back and forth, getting the tip wet with your juices. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you begged. Enough with the teasing. You felt ready to jump out of your skin. You were needy. And feral. 

Noir’s hold on your hair tightened as he slapped your ass hard enough to make you hiss with pain. You shook with raw need, pussy clenching around open air. He smacked you again for good measure and you moaned, sticking your ass out.

“I’m sorry, I’ll behave,” you whimpered.

Noir continued with coating his dick in your juices before finally breaching your entrance. He stopped short of entering you fully, waiting. For what you weren’t sure. You pushed against him with a deep groan, pushed your ass backwards in an attempt to slip him inside. 

It wasn’t until you stopped, until you grew still enough, that Noir slammed inside in one savage thrust. “Oh god!” You screamed, legs shaking on his dick. He was so big, a delicious stretch spearing you. 

He drew back until just the tip was inside and then slammed back in. He continued this savage push and pull, driving you insane. You couldn’t pay attention to the rhythm he tried to set. It only felt like not enough. 

You tried to slam him back faster, trying to get that lethal recoil going. Noir stopped and yanked your head back far enough to earn him a cry. You bit your lip and looked at him with a sweet smile. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” you said. 

Noir hovered over your back, using his size to cage you in. He nudged your neck with his nose, shuddering breaths quiet in your ear. You moaned as he slid back in, increasing his strokes, hitting a spot deep inside.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! That’s my spot! Right there!” You moaned and cried. He hit a spot so deep you started to see stars. 

Noir obliged you, hitting that spot over and over until you were an incoherent mess, dribbling, and mumbling as a powerful orgasm ripped through you. The edges of your vision turned blurry, as you surrendered to the ecstasy. 

As you came down, Noir’s hold didn’t lessen as he snapped his hips against yours. Soft, panting grunts in your ear that made your pussy clench onto him tighter, hold him in deeper. He let out a muffled groan and finally spilled himself inside you.

His hot, pulsing cum squelched as it mixed with your own essence. He continued snapping his hips like he couldn’t help it. Like he couldn’t stop. You gripped onto his warm thigh, throwing that ass right back on him so you could milk him for every drop. 

Your panting breaths were louder than his as he softened. He pulled out and adjusted himself. You remained faced forward to allow him time to zip himself back up. When you heard the zipper go back up, you dared a glance behind you.

He was right back to the stoic, monolith of a man as he stared in your direction. “Fuck, that was amazing,” you giggled, feeling drunk just off the strength of his fucking. You had enough moonlight to spot your red lace panties on the ground.

Noir was faster, snatching it before your fingers could close around the cloth. You grinned at Noir as he put a finger against his mask and tucked your panties into his pocket. 

“You really gonna leave me here like this?” You asked. 

Noir nodded slowly. “Asshole,” you smirked. 

You walked around him and Noir followed the movement, twisting his body all the way around. You backed away, heading for the entrance. You were thoroughly tired, legs aching, but still, you found that you wanted more. The night was still young-ish.

You blew a kiss at Noir. “Catch me if you can,” you sang as you danced out of the maze, picking up speed when you heard Noir scramble after you.

There will be more! The Secret Black Noir Files

[longing-for-rain]

This is unacceptable behavior

So this morning, I found this blog who has apparently taken it upon themselves to “call out” anyone they suspect of using AI in either fan art or fanfics. No proof needed; just send them an anon ask and they’ll start throwing people under the bus.

This person is harassing artists, writers, and anyone who questions them. They’re even demanding that artists upload videos of themselves drawing by hand to “prove” they’re real.

Reading their blog gets even more disturbing. Apparently “suspicious activity” for artists can be something as simple as experimenting with a different style, having trouble drawing hands, improving too quickly, uploading too quickly, or even using digital watercolor. So essentially, artists deserve harassment for being too good, not good enough, or if they don’t use 100% traditional techniques. Do you really think that’s helping artists? All you’re doing is intimidating people away from their hobbies and encouraging toxicity. Cut it out.

For context, yesterday @azula-brain messaged me in my DMs to accuse me of AI usage. I explained that a) I don’t consider my images “AI art” in the sense of “push a button and it makes a picture” because I only use it as a filter over my existing work, b) that I’ve posted detailed explanations of my artistic process before and that still didn’t stop people from harassing me over anon. She also accused me of charging people for art, which I very clear state in my pinned post that I do not accept commissions.

I’m committing a crime by not using fully traditional art, and by having a tip jar (keep in mind, many blogs simply use the built in tumblr feature which is easily understood to be for tipping bloggers they like, not art commission payments). I told her I suggest she simply block and move on if she was unhappy, but apparently that wasn’t good enough, so she called me out by name instead along with the above noted misinformation after I refused to bow to her threats over DMs.

But anyways, I’m done caving to threats, and so should the rest of you. Nothing you do will ever appease the mob, and I’m sick of these literal children making blogs like this thinking they’re saving the world, when literally they’re just stirring up drama and harassing random artists who were doing nothing wrong.

[lightwing-s]

alfred meeting food blogger reader for the first time during weekly visit when he off to new york visiting jason (which he gives Alfie reader's home address since reader wants to meat his grandpa) but encounter them in the farmer market when he and the reader both reach for a fresh batch of apple at same time in the same stall, also, jason and alfred both pretend not to know each other when reader introduce her new friend to her boyfriend as jason hugs himself around reader🍎❤🍎

It was a nice saturday morning, the early sun rays warming his face and contrasting with the still cold air hanging around. Jason had lost you sometime ago, but he didn’t worry. There was no need for it, in fact.

Y/n was always excited to go to the farmer’s market. And by excited he meant very, eager, exhilarated, psyched. You loved it. All kinds of fresh delicious food. All kinds of unique and different products. Everything a food lover, kind-of-a-chef, and content creator would love.

So he didn’t worry when he suddenly missed your hands in his, and your constant chattering about any and every product you found mildly interesting. He knew you were safe and that you would come back. And that’s a feeling being in Gotham never really granted him.

“Jason! Babe!” he heard you calling, quickly turning around in the direction your voice was coming from. “I found the most beautiful strawberries I’ve ever seen” you told him once he arrived beside you, eyes sparkling at your excitement.

They were truly beautiful. Big, bright red and without a flaw in sight. “My new friend, Alfred, and I were just chatting about how difficult it’s been to find such good strawberries these days, isn’t it?”

Turning to face your new friend, Jason followed your movements to land eyes in one of his most beloved and well recognized features. Alfred, now clad in a jacket and something else other than a suit, but still as posh, smiled at his foster son, extending his hands for Jason to shake. “Nice to finally see you again, Master Jason.”

The look on your face, of complete shock and surprise, must have been entertaining, because your boyfriend blurted out laughing at you, while you remained not understanding a thing. And then it clicked.

“He’s your Alfred?” you questioned, looking frantically between the two men. “Oh my gosh, you are his Alfrend, aren’t you? I’m so excited to finally meet you!” you embraced the older man, a bit surprised he let you do so without knowing you that much.

“And I’m happy to finally meet you too. Master Jason has talked a lot about you, miss.” Alfred threw a knowing glance at Jason, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks turned pink.

“And he has told me a lot about you too. In fact, you’re the only family member mister grumpy tells me about.”

While the two engaged in a long conversation, going from you excitedly asking Alfred to tell you about Jason’s childhood, to different kinds of food and recipes and cooking tips you could remember, Jason smiled happily at you two. Two of the most important people in his life getting along so well and so quickly.

He felt a strange sensation on his chest. A good sensation. One that made the small box hidden in his drawer seem ideal.

“Hey, Alfie” he interrupted, laying his arms around both yours and Alfred’s shoulders. “How about we get some breakfast back at our place?”