#I’M SO HONORED TO HAVE INSPIRED THIS - THIS IS A MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!

[plussizefantasia]

Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader? With fluff promt “I just really want to kiss you right now” Thanks!! :))

Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader

Summary: Benedict gets inspired by his muse at any time of day.

Word Count : 0.9k

A/N: Thank you for the request, I've never written for Ben before. I hope I did your idea justice <3

It was not the first time you had woken up to your bed being empty and your husband’s side having long gone cold. You realized mere weeks into your marriage that the artist’s spirit was one that never truly rested. Benedict could be inspired at any moment and he was not one to wait until morning to work.

The light that streamed in from the window grazed your face and started to pull you gently from sleep’s embrace. You did not open your eyes yet, dearly wishing to have one more moment to cherish the night before having to greet the day. Your arms stretch above your head and you pull them out to your side, reaching for your love. You chuckle when you feel nothing and open your eyes to search for him.

Your eyes scan over the empty spot that used to hold your husband, at least you knew he had slept a little last night. The two of you had fallen asleep in each other’s arms and you had waited until his breathing had evened out to succumb to sleep.

Your husband was sweet, but you knew that he had no regard for himself. You wonder if this is a trait all artists share or if it is Bridgerton trait. You’d have to ask Kate the next time you saw her if Anthony also had a tendency to burn the midnight oil or if you were just lucky enough to get the restless brother.

You pull the sheets down to your waist and begin to sit up when a cough from the corner of the room catches your attention.

There, in your favorite reading chair sits your husband. Benedict is still in his night clothes, and the ties on his shirt have fallen open exposing more of his chest to your greedy eyes than was available before you went to bed. Clutched in his hand is a sketch pad and some charcoal. His hands are stained and the closer you look you also notice streaks of black across his forehead. He is staring deeply at you.

“Do not move my love, I am inspired.”

You laugh lightly, “When are you not inspired, dear husband?”

“How can I not be always inspired when my muse walks the same halls as I? When I wake up to beautiful sights like this I cannot help but feel the need to catch them on the page.” He nods towards you, still lounging in bed.

“You’re a flatterer and a flirt.”

“Ony for you my love.”

“How long am I to be trapped here?” You ask him.

“You vowed until death do us part.”

“I did,  and I fully intend to honor that vow, but do you truly wish for me to waste away in bed?” 

“You look far too beautiful to be wasting.”

You raised an eyebrow at the love of your life. 

“Just stay there for a few more moments my love, I’m almost finished.” He told you.

You tried to stay still for him, assuming the same position you woke up in, or as close to it as you could get. The room filled with the sounds of scratching on paper and the breaths that came from either of you. You jest with him, but you would gladly waste away in bed if it meant being able to watch Benedict for the rest of your time. The sight of your husband creating masterpieces was one that you loved dearly. Unfortunately Ben didn’t really like people watching him work, this was a rare treat indeed.

“Ben?” You called from your spot on the bed.

“Yes Love?” He did not look up from his paper.

“I do not think I can wait much longer.”

“And whyever not?” His lips spread into a grin and he looked up into your eyes.

“I just really want to kiss you right now.” You bit your bottom lip lightly and smiled at him.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” He stood and placed the paper and coal on the seat. He slowly made his way closer to where you lie in wait. “My lovely wife needs to be kissed does she?” He asked you, climbing onto the bed and hovering over you.

“She does.” You nodded. “I fear she might not survive much longer without one.”

“We cannot have that, who shall inspire me if she is not with me?” He drew his face closer to yours, rubbing his nose along yours.

“Ben please,” you whispered.

“How I love to hear you beg.” He smiled into your neck, where he began to pepper small kisses. 

‘I do not think that I was beg-” he silenced you with a kiss. It was slow and filled with love, your lips dancing with each other perfectly. 

You sat up without breaking the kiss, twisting yourself so that the two of you were intertwined. 

Mornings like these were a rare treat indeed.

[callilemon]

Hi, I've been following you for a small while and have to admit you're my comfort artist , I love how you draw, and you honestly inspire me so much to keep trying with my own art, as much as I adore Luna (they're my comfort character and I would KILL for them) I adore seeing your art on my fyp on tumblr, keep up the good work !

I look forward to seeing the masterpieces you doodle :)

Happy ComCalTober!! May your Halloween be a spoopy one!!!

~🌙

Sorry for the late reply!

First of all, i want to say it makes me extremely happy you enjoy my art! ❤️

I feel honored that I give you inspiration!! Keep up with it! Art is the best past time! (Obviously I’m biased ha) anyways, thank you so much for the support and kindness! I hope you enjoy this little doodle! 🌙

[haveyouseenthishorrormovie]

Not a poll request (so don't worry if you don't want to answer on the blog) but - could we get each of the mods' top 10 horror movies? (: I'd be so interested in hearing them!

Long post!

Mod Z:

*long sigh* *opens letterboxd*

K-12 (2019)

NOTE: Yk what imma just leave this here

2. Beau is Afraid (2023)

NOTE: a masterpiece i probably won’t rewatch for a long time but since i’m an ari aster truther it deserved this spot

3. Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)

NOTE: Yes

4. The Crow (1994)

NOTE: Awesome ass movie. Awesome ass soundtrack. An absolute classic. I have the graphic novel it was based on and it’s one of the best things I have in my library

5. Carrie (1976)

NOTE: Stephen King’s the best at writing real characters <3

6. The Craft (1996)

NOTE: As a wicca myself, accurately depicted teen witches are my jam and this film did the best job at it

7. Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022)

NOTE: The only reason this isn’t in the top 5 is because i haven’t seen it in a while. If u had asked me in early 2023 i would’ve put this in second place for sure

8. Cam (2017)

NOTE: So underrated. Go watch this on Netflix now while u don’t know anything about it

9. Frankenweenie/Nightmare before Christmas/Edward Scissorhands

NOTE: CHILDHOOD (lumping them together cuz i couldn’t decide which tim burton film to add)

10. Smile (2022)

NOTE: okay wait this scared me shitless at the theatre and i just convinced myself this movie was bad to stop myself freaking out but this is a genuinely good and scary movie i’ve made up my mind

These are subject to change and Invisible Man (2020) definitely deserves an honorable mention but I haven’t seen it in a while to check if it still holds up

----

Mod L:

The Thing (1982)

Absolute masterpiece. Perfect marriage of cast, visuals, music, and script. They (audiences in 1982) hated Jesus (John Carpenter) because he told them the truth.

2. Ravenous (1999)

I love social horror more than life itself, and this is a pitch-perfect example. I recommend Atun-Shei Films' Overanalyzing Ravenous, if you haven't seen it yet.

3. Ju-on: The Grudge (2002)

See above re: social horror. I never stop thinking about how this series was inspired by rising incidents of domestic violence in Japan - how the contagion of violence in the home spreads to anyone who comes in contact with it.

4. Demon (2015)

This would pair amazingly well with my next pick, which is:

5. La Llorona (2019)

To quote a friend of mine after we watched Demon, "there is no society without memory."

6. Black Christmas (1976)

Truly ahead of its time as a slasher, as well as in its politics. Ladies, never date a Peter, and DON'T trust the Toronto Police.

7. The Devils (1971)

Nobody was doing it like Ken Russell, and nobody ever will again.

8. The Changeling (1980)

This movie understands the greatest horror of all: Joseph Kennedy Sr.

9. Us (2019)

My favourite Peele to date, no I will not be budged on this point.

10. Peeping Tom (1960)

An extremely prescient film about the male gaze and the medium of film.

(Mod Sus releases their own once they get the braincells rubbing for more than 5 movies)

[venus-haze]

Enjoy the Silence (Vincent Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: Art is tragedy, and your role in Vincent’s work is no exception. Still, you wonder what about you particularly inspired him, and if there’s something you can use to your advantage to escape your unknowable yet seemingly omnipresent captor. You don’t know how his work on living subjects started, and as the days go by, you’re not sure you’ll survive to ever see it end.

Note: Has the “being Vincent’s muse” thing been done to hell? Yes. Do I care? No. The reader is a woman in this but no other descriptors are used. Vincent almost exclusively signs, which is indicated by quotes and italics. Vincent is a perv but tells himself it’s in the name of art. There’s a little bit of Bo x Reader if you squint because I can’t help myself. I’ve been listening to Depeche Mode’s 1990 masterpiece Violator a lot recently, which is where the title comes from. I hope I did Vincent justice. If not, I’m always open to feedback! Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Death, murder, kidnapping, prolonged captivity. Psychological and emotional manipulation. Religious references. Stockholm syndrome. Voyeurism. Toxic artist-muse relationship. Sexually explicit content that involves coercion including oral (m receiving), waxplay. Do not interact if you are under 18.

Paris has over 200 miles of deep catacombs, centuries of silent death sprawling beneath the city of love. Ambrose certainly wasn’t Paris, far from it, but it was where you pretended to be as you sat on the musty mattress and watched Vincent work. You could recall reading about a section of the catacombs closed off to the public due to the fragile, ancient bones that were laid to rest there. 

Surely the subterranean, waxen labyrinth of Ambrose must have its own Church of the Innocent, a section to honor the town’s first victims. After all, with the dozens of candles that burned throughout the workshop, if you let your eyes go out of focus for long enough, it almost felt as though you were in a cathedral. With Vincent’s preferred opera music playing softly in your peripheral, the experience was comfortingly spiritual.

While your first few weeks of being in Vincent’s studio, as you’d personally come to refer to it, were nothing short of a nightmare, you had accepted your fate and found that if you didn’t struggle, didn’t fight, Vincent would leave you alone while he worked. There was a day early on where you were convinced he’d kill you like he’d killed your friends. You watched him do it to each of them, one by one–sedated, then killed, and preserved in wax. Your best friend, Gina, was in particularly rough shape when her limp body was brought in by Bo, who shot you a shit-eating grin when he saw the look of horror on your face at Gina’s condition. 

Something in you broke at seeing your best friend in such a state, and for a few hours, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but sob uncontrollably, to Vincent’s dismay. Your cries echoed as he tried to work, and you could see his shoulders tense up when you wailed out a plea for him to kill you. He set down his tools, and just when you thought he had enough, that he was going to go ahead and do it, he pressed his hand to the side of your face, caressing your cheek so gently it shocked you into silence. He brought his pointer finger to the lips of his mask, and it was then you knew he wouldn’t kill you, no matter how much you begged.

As much as you wanted to hate Vincent, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel more than a vague dislike for the man, not when it was much easier to hate Bo. Since you were Vincent’s, you were off-limits to his volatile twin, much to the man’s frustration. You never pushed your luck with Bo. He was too obvious and impulsive, wanting to see you snap so he had an excuse to pull whatever sick shit he did on the women he kept in his dungeon beneath the gas station to you. He left the disturbing photos around the kitchen on purpose, you knew as much when you saw a particularly grotesque one of Gina and threw up in the kitchen sink. Bo had the audacity to saunter in and ask you what was wrong, glee in his eyes as he took in your disgusted expression. 

Still, something about Bo intrigued you, but not nearly enough to go poking around. Vincent didn’t like you spending much time with his twin anyway, seeming to want to keep your interactions with him at a minimum. You certainly weren’t complaining, although things in the studio could get boring when Vincent became engrossed in his work, though there were dozens of books on art and anatomy stacked on tables and shelves, some old and waterlogged, others crusted with wax. For your own sake, you stuck with the art books while Vincent paid you little mind unless you spoke up. Otherwise, Jonesy would be at your side or disappear on her own. It was almost comical how the dog had more freedom than you did.

It helped that you knew some basic signs, as he preferred communicating that way than writing everything to you. In the few weeks you’d been there, you’d managed to pick up on more signs that he used, some that were clearly of his own invention. He never had long conversations with you, and you knew better than to insult a man who could make your life even worse and would take pleasure in doing so. Though you were uncertain of your own future, you at least wanted to make an effort to escape so your friends, especially Gina, didn’t die in vain.

Days seemed to pass at an achingly slow pace when there were no windows to see out of, and you jumped at the opportunity to do some minor chores around the house when Vincent requested it. While you did some minor cleaning and most of the cooking, Vincent was insistent on doing the laundry. You were happy to leave the task to him, not even wanting to figure out how to get the wax out of the various sweaters he wore. The laundry room could hardly be considered such, more of a closet with space for the washer, dryer, and one person standing inside. It seemed like one of the appliances had issues, because whenever you walked past the small room when Vincent did laundry, you’d overhear him groaning. You figured you weren’t handy enough to offer him help, anyway.

For all of the time you spent in Vincent’s basement studio, you rarely saw Bo down there. You were making lunch, using half a loaf of bread to make sandwiches for you, Vincent, and Bo when the man only commented for you to not use too much mustard on his when he sped past you and downstairs. 

You set down the spoon you’d been using to spread the condiments—Bo had hidden the knives when Vincent first granted you access to the kitchen—and creeped over to the top of the stairs. Chewing your bottom lip, you strained to hear what Bo was telling Vincent. It sounded mostly mundane, details about how the town was running and some of the wax figures that needed repairs. You shuddered to think what that involved. 

Just as you were going to backtrack and finish making lunch, the conversation shifted to you. Of course, Bo had nothing to say but complain about your presence in the house, as if you had decided of your own volition to move in and inconvenience them. Your eye roll quickly turned into shock when you heard how much further he was taking things.

“You’re tellin’ me you’ve had this bitch for weeks and you ain’t fucked her yet?”

Silence.

“Then what’s the hold up?”

Silence.

“Your muse? You’re keepin’ around another mouth to feed for some art bullshit?”

You gasped upon hearing a crash.

“Jesus. Fine. It’s your fuckin’ funeral.”

You resumed making the sandwiches, considering the implications of what you’d just heard. The relationship between artist and muse was always volatile and dangerously intimate. Human nature being what it was, either party would inevitably end up heartbroken or gone mad. What artist wouldn’t give everything for a muse who could never leave, never have dreams of their own, never be with someone else? 

From the art books you’d read in Vincent’s studio to pass the time while he worked, you could think of a few, Claudel and Rodin, Miller and Ray, Marr and Picasso—none of which ended on what you’d consider good terms. There was an inherent tragedy to art, yours just looked different. Though, you had no doubt the artist-muse relationship you had with Vincent would end any less than violently. 

Perhaps you could use it to your advantage, manipulate the relationship to escape Ambrose. Vincent immersed himself in his art, denying himself companionship in favor of it until recently. Something must have shifted emotionally or psychologically for him to seek out a muse in you of all people. Loneliness could turn into desperation with the right push. 

There was no way for you to know what Vincent looked like beneath his mask. Though you knew he and Bo were twins, conjoined by the head at birth until their father performed the surgery that separated them, there were no maskless photos of him anywhere to be found. For a child prodigy who was clearly his mother’s favorite, there was still a clear sense of shame regarding his appearance. While Vincent didn’t indicate that he held on to any of the religious beliefs he was brought up with, the dogma of suffering as holy, pain as good and righteous, could cast a long shadow over a person’s psyche long after they leave the faith.

You ignored Bo when he walked upstairs, doing your best to disguise your knowledge of the conversation he’d just had with his brother. Wordlessly, you slid a plate across the counter to him. He grabbed one of the two sandwiches that sat on it, taking a bite and apparently finding it to his satisfaction.

“Least you’re good for somethin’,” he said, his mouth full.

To your relief, he brought his food into the living room, turning on the TV. Carefully, you grabbed both your and Vincent’s plates, praying none of the sandwiches fell off the plates as you walked down stairs, easier said than done when Jonesy jumped up on you as soon as she smelled the food. She didn’t listen when you pleaded for her to get down, but Vincent signed such to her, and the dog made a displeased whine but relented. 

“I made lunch,” you said, setting Vincent’s plate down on the nearest clear surface. “I’m not sure if you’re hungry.”

He was silent, unmoving for a moment before he nodded his head in thanks. You knew he wouldn’t eat in front of you, reluctant to take his mask off unless entirely necessary. Though you wouldn’t pry, you were genuinely curious as to what he looked like beneath the mask. Was it really that bad?

“Well, let me know when you’re done so I can get your plate and wash up,” you said, walking over to one of the crowded worktables, where you had no view on Vincent.

You weren’t alone for long, Jonesy right on your trail and staring at you as you began to eat. It was your own doing, you’d gotten into the habit of feeding her from your plate to win her favor not long after Vincent abducted you. It didn’t do anything to help your case, but at least she liked you. Though you tried to eat slowly, you ended up finishing your lunch in a few minutes, giving Jonesy some of the leftover crust. She left your side not long after that.

A chair scraped across the floor, and you heard Vincent’s familiar steps. He didn’t acknowledge you when you called out for him and asked if he was finished eating, his footsteps becoming increasingly distant. When you couldn’t hear him walking anymore, you got up to collect his plate.

He ate most of what you’d made, but his sketchbook next to it caught your attention. Despite being the subject of what you assumed was most of the drawings in it, he never let you actually look inside and see what he’d drawn. Anytime you’d try to sneak a glance at it, he’d pull it away, guarding it almost jealously. 

There it was, out in the open. He must have meant to return quickly from wherever he walked off to if he left it lying around like that. Sure, it was his, and you shouldn’t have been violating his privacy, but you justified it as he did plenty of sketches of you in the shower, anyway. It’d make you even, about time you finally got to see what you assumed were strictly artistic nudes. Still, you weren’t sure when you’d get another opportunity to look inside. You glanced behind your shoulder before grabbing it. 

When you flipped open the sketchbook, you were in awe at the detail that went into the drawings. The first few pages were of different people, but as the pages went on, all you saw was yourself—in various poses, states of undress, and pleasure. Your eyes widened as you came across the first of dozens of erotic drawings Vincent had done. It shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, all things considered.

The first time you had showered in the Sinclair house was the most oddly intimate experience you ever had. You weren’t allowed in most parts of the house alone for a while, and that hadn’t changed much over time. When you were first brought to Vincent’s studio, you desperately wanted time to yourself, to be alone instead of spending every waking moment with your captor. A few days after you had reluctantly come to terms with your situation, you requested a shower. You were relieved when he acquiesced with a hesitant nod. To your bewilderment, however, he followed you into the bathroom. Your confusion grew as you noticed the pencil and sketchbook in his hand as he sat on the closed toilet lid, motioning for you to undress and go ahead with your shower.

Humiliation had rushed through you when you attempted to pull the shower curtain closed, and instead he held it in place. You tried to give yourself some form of unrealistic modesty, maneuvering your hands to cover yourself as best as you could while thoroughly cleaning your body for the first time in a week. Your heart had been pounding as you lathered shampoo in an attempt to get the dried blood out of your hair. Your exposure was unavoidable, and you tried not to look in his direction. 

Vincent was always quiet, save for the few grunts and groans you’d heard him make in his studio. You could only hear the faint sound of pencil on paper over the rush of water hitting grimy tile. 

Of course, as soon as you had turned the water off, his head shot up from his sketchbook, and your eyes met his, at least, what you figured were his eyes through the mask. You’d lowered your gaze, sheepishly asking him to hand you a towel. 

He offered you his hand as you stepped out of the shower after drying yourself off, and your skin felt especially warm at the contact in the cold bathroom. You noticed pajamas set on the counter, not yours, but they looked about your size, at least. For a brief moment, you had wondered about the clothing’s previous owner. 

When you’d reached out to grab the clothes, he placed his hand over them, and you looked at him in confusion until he began dressing you. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed your bare body, grazing up your thighs as he pulled a pair of panties up your legs. 

He always dressed you, but you hadn’t realized he was using the opportunity to study your body more closely, not just for art’s sake, but for his own gratification. It was perverse, but what could you expect in such a place, a monument to death and destruction disguised as creation. The sculptures weren’t his, he stole them, the bodies of other people that he manipulated to his vision. He was doing the same to you.

Your stomach churned, yet you flipped one more page and were greeted with a drawing of you–and Vincent. Your figure was nude, as usual, while his form was draped in a cloth. His body was leaned against yours as you held him against your bare torso, your somber eyes raised to the smoky sky he’d drawn above you. He only drew his profile, one side of his face hidden in the softness of your breast. Even then, he didn’t seem to portray himself with any specific features besides his long, dark hair. Though you recognized the painting he was invoking in his recreation, the name escaped you as you stared at the haunting drawing, a warped version of the original’s spirituality.

Before you could turn the page, the sketchbook was ripped from your hands and slammed onto the table. You took a step back, trying to create some distance between you and Vincent. You didn’t have to see his face to know he wasn’t pleased with your snooping. An explanation escaped you as you opened and closed your mouth, hoping he wouldn’t do anything rash. 

“Why am I your muse?” you asked.

To your surprise, he hesitated before signing. “You were there.”

“What do you mean? Where was I?”

“There.”

You opened your mouth to inquire further, but the horrifying truth dawned on you. There wasn’t anything special about you, nothing in particular that stood out when he first saw you. Vincent wanted a muse, and you just happened to be the member of your group within his reach, in the right place at the right time for him to try out, see if you were a good fit. You were expendable, a medium with which he could create to his desire, to his vision, just like everyone else. Your legs seemed to give out on you as your brain fogged with the realization that it was pointless—all of the speculation and sleepless nights trying to make sense of your situation and get an upper-hand. 

Before you could hit the ground, Vincent held you up, bringing you over to the bed. You sat on the edge of the mattress, and he looked down, head tilted as if he weren’t sure how to regard you. You dug your nails into your palms, releasing before you could break skin, though you desperately wanted to. He ruined your life, and there was no rhyme or reason to it. You didn’t even know what he looked like. 

“Let me see you,” you begged. “Please, let me see you.”

Instead of gracing you with a response, he brushed his thumb against your pleading lips and gently pushed his finger into your mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you began to suck on his thumb, moreso when you heard him elicit a deep groan exactly like the one you'd overheard in the laundry room. You couldn’t believe you’d been so fucking stupid before—appliance troubles, he was getting off to your dirty laundry. As if his violating you from afar made him any better than his brother, who was unabashed about his violating your best friend. You were no better off than Gina had been. 

Gina. God, what would she be thinking if she saw you just taking it. She was always a fighter, standing up for you on more than one occasion. Even Bo had commented on it when he was taunting you. Yet you couldn't even fulfill the promise you had made to yourself to escape and expose what was going on in Ambrose so her death wasn’t in vain. 

You cried harder, drool pooling in the corners of your lips as Vincent pushed his thumb further into your mouth. Tears clouded your vision as you tried looking at him, towering above you. It wasn’t fair. Your body had been exposed to him, and you had no idea what he looked like.

He groaned again, his long hair falling into his face. As he kept pumping his finger in your mouth, you were practically eye-level with the tent in his pants. His free hand grabbed his crotch, and you whimpered, causing his hips to jerk. 

When he pulled his thumb out of your mouth, you were dizzy, letting out a shaky breath that turned into sobs again. You half expected him to unzip his pants and shove his hard cock in your mouth. Instead, he looked down at you with a blown out eye, panting at the sight of you.

“Let me see you,” you croaked. 

He turned away, disappearing into the labyrinth beneath the town, leaving you, covered in spit and tears, on your own. You let out a hopeless wail that echoed pathetically back.

Taking a few minutes to pull yourself together, you didn’t want to get up from where you were sitting on the mattress, preferring to curl up in a ball and cry until you fell asleep. He owned you, that much was evident. Even if you could use his physical attraction to you to get some kind of freedom, he was stronger than you, with no issue using your body as an object for his personal and artistic gratification. 

Though you felt numb and empty, you managed to push yourself onto your feet, slowly making your way upstairs into the kitchen. You didn’t want to go to the bathroom and see your appearance, opting instead to wash your face at the kitchen sink. The cold water didn’t make you feel any better as you splashed it on your face, drops falling down your neck and into your shirt. 

When you dried your face off with a paper towel, you sniffled as you tried not to cry again. Hearing the TV volume turn down from the living room didn’t make you feel any better, knowing Bo was on his way into the kitchen with some comment to make you feel even worse.  

“You ain’t got a scratch on ya, and you’re cryin’ about somethin’,” Bo said as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“Can you please just save it?” you mumbled.

He rolled his eyes as he cracked open the can. “Who shoved a stick up your ass? And don’t say my brother, ‘cause Vincent ain’t got the balls to fuck you like he should’ve done already.”

“And you would’ve?”

He grinned, stalking toward you until his face was dangerously close to yours. “I thought I already gave you an idea of what I did to your little friend. What makes you think I would’ve shown you any less hospitality?”

You studied Bo’s features in your proximity to him, wondering if Vincent wore that same, sick grin beneath his mask when he had his thumb in your mouth just a few minutes earlier. He leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on you.

“You ain’t the least bit curious? We’re twins, after all,” Bo whispered.

You hadn’t even noticed you’d moved in closer, close enough that you could feel his hot breath on your swollen lips. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t, darlin’.”

Shit. You remembered why you and your friends were so quick to trust him in the first place, all smiles and giggles as he put you at ease with his charm that he could turn on and off at will. Just a friendly, small town mechanic looking to help a group of friends down on their luck. 

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Well, whattya got to lose?”

You didn’t move as you glanced at his mouth. He could make you do it. It’d take no effort at all for him to force you into a kiss, but that’d take the fun out of this whole thing for him. You had to make a move for him to win the game.

He had a point. It wasn’t like you had much to lose, giving up on your life not long after you got into town. In the split second before you decided whether or not to give in, a loud bang made you jump back.

Vincent stood on the other side of the kitchen, his fists clenched as he stared at you and Bo. Your heart crashed back down to earth, heavy in your stomach as you looked between the brothers. A suffocating silence filled the room, until Bo stood up from the counter he was leaning against, taking a few steps forward so he was almost between you and Vincent.

“C’mon, Vin, don’t be like that,” Bo said in a good-natured tone that could only make things worse. “I’m just keepin’ your muse company, ain’t that right, doll?” 

You didn’t have a chance to respond, as Vincent quickly closed the distance between you. He grabbed you by the arm, pulling you away from Bo and toward the basement. For as much as you’d wanted to see his face before, in that instance you were glad you couldn’t, if his unforgiving grip on your arm was any indication of his anger. You could see his eye through his mask, though, a stormy blue as he narrowed his gaze at his brother, still smug as he took a swig of his beer.

The faint sound of the TV in the living room was the only thing breaking the tense silence, though you wished it were anything but the stupid Zoobooks commercial playing–at a time like this? Would the last thing you ever hear before Vincent turns you to wax be fucking Zoobooks? 

He tightened his grip on your arm, practically dragging you downstairs and back to his studio. Your lip trembled as you saw the table where Vincent prepared his subjects to be preserved. He pulled you past it, though, down the corridor he’d disappeared to earlier. 

He sat you down in a wooden chair next to his work station where he, thankfully, was working on a non-human wax sculpture, a statue of a saint from the church, though you’d never been inside the building yourself. Your gaze was fixed on his hands as they flexed in and out of fists balled at his side. Finally, he lifted his hands to sign, “Stay away from him.”

“He approached me.”

He scoffed, and you resisted the urge to argue further. Instead, he sat down and went back to sculpting, you felt numb, even as Jonesy nudged your hand with her wet nose. There was no way to know what Vincent was thinking, no facial cues or ticks for you to pick up on. His mask made him cold and unknowable, which frightened you more than anything Bo could do. 

The next few days, you were on edge, careful around Vincent and making a conscious effort to avoid his twin. Between the two of them, you knew escaping was a long shot. It was easier to abandon hope, and your best friend’s memory with it, than you expected. Besides, being Vincent’s muse wouldn’t be anything like being Bo’s—whatever the fuck you could call that.

Though Vincent was more open about his art with you, even showing you how to make small wax sculptures or your own, he would tense up every time he so much as heard his twin. When you’d go upstairs to prepare food, Vincent now accompanied you, and the elaborate dish you were hoping to make turned into a hastily thrown-together mess when Bo walked in from his day at the gas station. Vincent spirited you away not long after, and you didn’t exactly buy that he suddenly had inspiration for a drawing.

Still, you acquiesced, hesitant when he elaborated that his artistic vision involved you posing nude. It was the first time you did so outside of the typical shower setting. Though he’d seen so much of you already, you were embarrassed when you rid yourself of your clothes, especially when he walked over, placing his hands on your bare limbs to put you in an uncomfortable pose.

Despite the eternal furnaces that seemed to be running in the basement to keep the wax melted, you were freezing in your nakedness, unable to stop yourself from shivering in addition to the way your muscles strained at how he had you posed.

He slammed his pencil down on the page as he angrily signed, “Stay still.” 

“I can’t,” you whined. 

Ripping the page out of the sketchbook and throwing the crumpled ball on the ground, he stormed over to you. Though you braced yourself for a blow, you found him repositioning you in a different pose, one that wasn’t as hard on your limbs, but nonetheless exposed and vulnerable. 

He took a few steps back, shaking his head at your new pose. Looking around the room, he seemed to find the missing thing that would bring his vision to life. There were dozens of candles burning in the studio, and he picked up a white one, walking over to you. 

Your lips betrayed you, a moan escaping them as he poured the hot wax over your bare breasts. He froze, staring down at the milky-colored liquid as it hardened on your soft skin. A switch flipped in him, and he tipped the candle again. This time, you whimpered at the sensation, your skin stinging, but this seemed to be enough for him, as he set the candle aside with shaking hands.

“Let me see you,” you pleaded softly.

“No. Stop asking.”

“You’ve seen me, even the parts I don’t like,” you said. “I’m not scary.”

“I am.”

“So what would change?”

He sighed, shooting you a glare through his mask. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll—“

To your surprise, he grabbed his mask, lifting it from his face. His eye was squeezed shut, as if he couldn’t bear to see what he assumed would be the disgusted expression that spread across your face at the sight of his own. 

The state of his face was shocking, and you’d underestimated the extent of how much it would be scarred and disfigured, but you felt more pity than repulsion. His stillness was what unnerved you, as if he were holding his breath in preparation for your reaction, like you’d scream and call him a monster or a freak, like he was afraid of you.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head.

“That’s good,” you said softly. “Can I–”

He opened his eye to see you reach for him, letting out what sounded like a whimper when your hand make contact with his scarred skin. You caressed his cheek as he’d so often done to you before.

“Is this alright?” you asked, though he’d leaned into your touch.

“Yes,” he breathed, his voice strained and raspy before he signed, “Need you.”

“I’m right here.”

It wasn’t until he pulled you flush against his body that you noticed his erection, pressing hard against your exposed skin. You looked at him, the longing and desperation in his expression was almost romantic. Maybe you could pretend, just for a few seconds, that you were there by choice. Slowly, you leaned in, softly pressing your lips to his, the scarred side of his face an odd sensation against yours, but he quickly took your face in his hands, kissing you harder. 

When you pulled away slightly, overwhelmed by the fervor he was kissing you with, his lips followed yours, a gentle chase by a predator starved for your touch. His tongue slipped between your lips when you opened your mouth slightly, though there was a hesitation to his actions, as if he didn’t know what to expect once he got this far. It was sweet, endearing even, this vulnerability from a man who otherwise had so much power over you. Gently guiding him, you couldn’t help but smile a bit as he moaned. 

You quickly found it wouldn’t stay that way for long. He finally allowed you to pull away from his lips. His gaze was focused as you tried to catch your breath. Of course, just a kiss wasn’t enough for him. He’d tasted blood, and he wanted more. 

He pulled off his sweater, revealing his torso, strong, pale, and littered with dozens of scars all varying in size and color. From the way he looked at you, it was easy to pick up on what he wanted you to do next, and as you pressed feather-light kisses to his bare skin, you wondered if it were the first time he’d ever been intimate with anyone. Sure, he could have had his way with past victims, expertly immobilizing them so he could get his pound of flesh before their transformation into the newest member of the town’s population, but that was cold, distant, uninspired, a cheap substitution for the way your mouth was worshiping his body. 

His cock strained against his pants, and he couldn’t take it anymore—the friction, the anticipation, you. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, he pulled his hard cock from under the fabric, the slightest smirk spreading across his face as your eyes widened, hesitant and a bit frightened at the size of him. Pumping himself with his hand, he used his other hand to push you to your knees. Though you tried to hide it, he didn’t miss how you squeezed your thighs together. 

The dried, white wax on your breasts from just a few minutes earlier made it look like he’d already cum on your chest, and he moaned at the thought, pulling a little harder on his cock before pressing the leaking head against your lips. 

Vincent was not a vocal lover, as you hesitantly referred to him, only offering grunts and groans as you licked his cock just before taking it in your mouth. He was bigger than what you were used to, and you were careful not to choke, easier said than done when the warmth of your mouth, your soft tongue stimulating his hard length, made him buck his hips and you gagged at his cock hitting the back of your throat. You looked up at him, his head thrown back in pleasure, his long, black hair sticking to his skin. 

When he looked down at you, making eye contact, you felt like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, a suspicious and almost accusatory expression on his face that almost made you pull away from his cock. He remembered the scene he’d walked in on just a handful of days before, you and Bo so close, your noses practically touching, the gleam in his twin’s eyes like he wanted to eat you alive. A low growl rumbled from deep in his chest as he roughly grabbed you by the hair and took control of the pace, no intention of going easy on you. He had to make up for lost time, after all, years of isolation, loneliness, and self-loathing until you came along, ready for the taking and far more compliant than he had expected. 

The sight of you, kneeling before him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you took what he gave you, made him almost believe in god again, almost. The soft light of the candles burning throughout the studio reflected off of the sheen of sweat on your skin, you were practically glowing. Perhaps he was letting his emotions get the better of him, his first truly intimate experience with a woman clouding his senses, but he could let himself get lost in it, just this once and every time afterward. You were his muse, that was what you were there for, after all. He wanted you to fear him, reverently, passionately—be not afraid, from the mouths of monstrous looking angels.

You almost sighed in relief when he pulled his cock out of your mouth, throat and jaw aching from the unrelenting attention. He took his cock in his hand, pumping it, wet and slick with precum and saliva, until he climaxed on your breasts. His cum was nearly indistinguishable from the wax that littered your skin, complimenting the faint, raised burns left in the wake of the liquid’s heat when it was first poured onto you. Though you moved to get up, you found yourself being pushed back down again.

“Stay still,” he signed, his hand a bit shaky as he did so.

When you didn’t move, your hands resting above your knees as you tried to catch your breath, he gave you a tired, twisted grin before reaching for his sketchbook and getting to work. Numbness overtook your senses, and you had no idea how much time had passed when Vincent finally put down his pencil to help you onto your feet. 

He sat you on the mattress, its softness a relief from the floor you’d been kneeling on for god knows how long. When he made the sign for shower, an inquiry as to whether you wanted one, all you could do was stare at the sketchbook that was still in his hand. Your pleasure, your comfort, wasn’t even an afterthought, while his was a priority. With an exhausted exhale, you allowed him to drape you in a blanket and lead you upstairs.

[fickleminder]

So I may have accidentally created a whole new OM universe in my head based off of the years start coming. Like it’s been over a year (a year and a half? Maybe longer?) since the first time I read it and it replaced game canon for me. Everything that happens after s1 is now TYSCATDSC-coded in my brain. Maybe not that exact sequence, but I now have an offshoot plot inspired by your fic, which involves MC getting kidnapped and tortured by witch hunters after Lilith’s return, with two different endings—one where MC saves themselves and teleports back to the Devildom to escape, and another where they just die and the brothers find out later.

Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for writing that masterpiece. It’s still one of the only fics I regularly return to, and it’s so powerful it rewired my brain and made me forget actual canon events. I am now in the process of coming up with NB headcanons if it happened after the events of TYSCATDSC.

Anon— Anon you can’t just tell me this and end it there, I need to know more holy shit—

I really love the angst potential in the offshoot plot!! Poor MC getting kidnapped (aka I’m a sucker for MC whump) and both endings are equally satisfying!! Idk where Satan and the angels are in all this but ooh I’d love to read more if you ever write this out one day 🤩🤩🤩

Thank YOU for sharing your ideas with me!! I’m so honored (and mindblown tbh) that my little fic?? inspired a whole damn universe in your head?? and gave you TYSCATDSC-tinted glasses?? Hot damn, you took the concept and ran with it and I am in LOVE with the results!!

I’d love to know more about the NB related stuff too; that’s a twist I’ve never thought about but I’m excited to see where you’ll take it!! Thank you again for this ask, and I hope you have lots of fun playing with this AU 💕

[flownintothesun]

 ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ───     𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐡?

                            ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧. ( @florietiae )

       𝐎𝐇 𝐆𝐎𝐃, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 — the truth is that if I’m following you, then I’m happy to see you on dash! But I am not gonna skirt out of it that easily, am I? So, a disclaimer — I am capping myself at ten people (plus obviously the lovely Hayla herself who is joy and light incarnate!). Of course, I have a lot more than ten mutuals all of whom I admire and adore. I’m just going to take this moment to shout out some lovely humans but by no means all of them :

@batteredoptimist​ : Nonny is the reason almost all of my characters on this blog exist, and definitely to the capacity they do. This is my best friend / partner in crime and writing / most bestest human / absolute joy. They are a lovely human and an incredibly talented writer / worldbuilder / artist. I am so invested and have so much love for Nonny’s characters (and Nonny, too, of course!) and I am just...consistently blown away by their lore and writing and I just want to read a whole book or ten about James. Do I have the honor of writing with him most of the time? YES! Do I want more because I’m greedy? Also yes! And... if I don’t stop myself I’m going to babble for way too long. We’ve written 2.7 million words together in less than two years, and I cherish them and our stories and their muses DEARLY. Thank you for sharing your light and stories with me, Nonny! I am forever grateful.

@smokedanced / @dutyworn​ / @dochaes​ / @waywardfeathered​ : I wouldn’t be on tumblr without Havu. I wouldn’t be who I am now without Havu. They are so passionate about their muses (and also the enneagram and birds and math and science), we share a ton of inside jokes, and it makes me very happy to see them here because them being happy makes me happy too! 11/10 human, comes highly recommended.

@imprvdente​ / @hvbris​ : Chloé is just an all around amazing human being, to be honest. Fish is incredibly thought out, but so are ALL of the characters on the multimuse. Chloé’s writing is phenomenal and will one day be published, I’m sure of it (and Fish super deserves it). Also, she has been nothing but genuinely kind to me and has such a warm presence. I am very grateful to get to write with and enjoy her presence.

@voxvulgi​ : Sara is just a lovely human in all of the ways and when the dash is graced with her presence, all is right with the world. Her writing is exactly the kind that inspires you to give your response your all just because her works are masterpieces that deserve the very best. Her characters thouuuugh, and her writing, and just *gestures* the whole package.

@astremourante​ : Ami has built an amazing character that I am SO excited to write with (I am so angry at my queue right now). Also the vibes for both mun and muse are immaculate. Her posts always bring me joy to see on the dash whether IC or OOC and I am pretty sure I have hit the heart excessively because hello amazing human I think that you’re neat!

@angerworn​ : Zed is a bad influence! (Kidding, mostly!) We haven’t been talking for long, but I have been nothing short of consistently inspired by all of the characters that she brings to the table. Also, my muses are all making the biggest grabby hands and want to learn and explore all of the things. Also, Zed has really a really nice energy and presence and I like that a lot!

@tewwor​ : Ro has been with me for a very long time, and through many hiatuses on both ends. I remember even in the beginning being drawn in to how well she tells a story and somehow even more masterfully brings their characters together. From the first, I have just been immersed and amazed at the talent, and at how kind Ro is as a person, too. Can’t imagine myself not following a Ro blog, tbh.

@ofhope / @yourburningsoul​ : Olivia and I haven’t gotten the chance to write together much, and that’s all right because it’s just so easy to see the passion that she brings to her muses. The first blog I followed her on had me so utterly immersed I was sitting there reading posts even though I didn’t know the original media well! Olivia’s presence on dash is one of kindness, joy and light and I’m just so happy to be in her sphere.

@wehavefoundthestars​ : Eve and I have been writing together for years now, and that’s wild to me. This is one of the rare cases in getting so immersed in threads that your characters end up getting married and starting a family. And then...there’s Westley. Oops. Eve has so much love and compassion for Elio that I much prefer hers to the original and now know only one portrayal.

@innerwar : Tommy and I haven’t had the chance to write yet, but I am admiring from afar and am super impressed at how one person can write so many COMPLEX muses so dang well. Also, Tommy, you wrote a novel and that is AMAZING!? I just want you to know that I like your aesthetic, vibe and writing a lot an that there is definitely a post lurking in my queue for you.

  Can I just... can I list everyone? I have so many more people to say nice things to ;_;.

[amethystfairy1]

Hey, welcome to the hellsite! I’m the dork who caught warden Cub and talked about drawing cat Lizzie (which is… taking a bit, I’m a bit rusty lol)

I’ve got a few simpler doodles in the works tho, I can toss ‘em your way once I’ve got something I like, if you’re interested

Anyway, nice to have you over here! Everyone’s basically said this already, but Sky-Blue Cracks is absolutely incredible and I’m really glad I’m on the internet at the same time as this masterpiece

Glad to be here! I’ve existed in the ether for awhile on this site, but just never used the blog for anything, but here we are now!

I would love literally anything and everything that my AU might inspire you to draw. I cannot draw. That is not a skill of mine. So when people take my designs/scenes and draw them I get so deliriously excited because I’m like YES ITS THEM IN MY HEAD BUT NOW NOT IN MY HEAD YAY so basically…doodles, art, scribbles, anything you happen to create, if you are willing to share them with me I would ADORE seeing them! And I’d love to reblog them here so others who enjoy the AU can see them! Only with your permission tho of course 🥰

I’m honored you enjoy the series so much! It’s been thanks to all the wonderful and kind support that I’ve been so inspired to keep creating for it! So thank you!

[sen-no-kotowari]

PGR Ayla Activation Day 2023 Mail

Hope everyone had a fantastic holiday! I will be posting quite a few stuff over the next few days with so much stuff piled up while on holiday rest and first off would be Ayla's and Rosetta's Activation Day mail!

You can read more about her activation day memoir on the cut down below! (*‘ω‘ *)

[Push Notification] Art Exhibit Interview

◜Lateral Arc◝ Art Exhibit Interview |  Ayla ― ”Pursuing the colorful world reflected in our eyes” Article publication date: December 15 | Interviewed by the Garden Ventures | Today is the start of the up-and-coming artist Ayla’s exhibit  “◜Lateral Arc◝,” held at Exhibit Building C-06! The exhibit delivers a prismatic visual symposium that transcends time and space, expressing the sentiments and encounters of the people in the current Era. Regardless of the massive response on the first day, it has beaten the venue’s previous record of the most number of visitors. Several pieces displayed have a ◜Lateral Arc◝ with the joint operations between the Arts Association and the Elite Corps. Our team of journalists had the honor to interview Miss Ayla. Q: Could you please tell us why you chose such a theme for the exhibit this time around? A: Although “art” is but a tiny existence in our time today, that is exactly what makes up the driving force we deeply contemplate when it comes to “art.” For instance, I see the blue skies in front of me as the most vivid and biggest canvas there could ever be. But the canvas’ color reflected in other people’s eyes is different, right? What I want to draw are the different forms of this world reflected from their view. I believe it’s good that people have their own interpretation of what “reality” is. Q: All the artwork displayed here is impressive. I know it’s possible to know the production process by “recreating the scene” via the device located beside each of the art pieces here, but why display it in that manner? A: I was inspired by a previous mission I participated in on Earth. As for the devices installed… It’s my way of thanking the person who took care of me during the production of these pieces. They gave me the inspiration for this and have always been supportive of me. They probably aren’t aware of it, but it’s because they’ve always been fighting for the sake of humanity’s future… I wanted the world reflected in those people’s eyes to continue to exist. Their existence always gives us strength in one way or another. Q: In regards to the last, blank artwork displayed called “Masterpiece,” you mentioned that someone once said that “it’s because the next piece is yet to be completed that it’s the perfect masterpiece.” What do you make about this interpretation of it? A: Ahaha! That’s a really interesting interpretation of it. I love it! But all the pieces displayed in the art exhibit are pieces I’m proud of. …Ah! I just thought of what could my next piece be! Oh dear, I’m so excited that I wanna draw it so badly right now! Q: It’s truly a “surge of inspiration!” Then, could you please tell us about what your next piece is? Not just me, but Miss Ayla’s fans are also looking forward to what your “masterpiece” would be… Even just a tiny spoiler, please! A: Hehe, I’d like to keep it a secret for now. Talking about the details of my work takes up a lot of courage, you know? From: Writer | Montpellier

From Ayla

Hi there, Commander~! It’s been so long, did you perhaps miss me? I got your cake and activation day present, thank you so much! Golly gee, why do you always know the things that make me happy? My art exhibition starts today. For me, today is a really important day. Because there is a day like this I was able to let the whole world see a new perspective and outlook in life, I was able to experience the cruel reality beyond those shelters. Since you’re such a busy person, I was able to ask the Arts Association to display the art pieces for an additional day after the last day of the exhibit for you. I’ll be your specialized guide that day and give you a tour around the venue! And also, I prepared a surprise for you so look forward to that, okay? It was pretty difficult to express all of the battles everyone’s fighting in a piece of artwork, but… Thanks to you and everyone, I was able to grasp the monuments of this war we’re fighting, I was able to pick up and weave fragments of the stars and show its glow to a greater crowd of people. Hehe, was our conversation seriously heavy? Pretty sure that my mood hasn’t switched off from “exhibit mode,” that’s why. Oh yeah, I have a wish I want you to grant, but… I want to draw your portrait! They say that it’s okay to make a wish on one’s activation day, right? So I want you to be my model! I know you’re thinking that I’m already drawing you as we’re speaking, but I still wanna draw you even after I already drew plenty of times now. …It’s only when I draw that I can have your gaze all to myself, see? Or something along those lines, hehe. Saying it made me feel a bit shy about it. Anyway, come to my atelier when you got the time! I don’t mind if it’s late, I’ll be waiting for you. From: Ayla’s Mail

[amukmuk]

I just caught up on your fic Broken Keys Lost Doors and I adore it. I’ve read just about everything you’ve written. I’m in love with your writing style. You have a way of making characters feel more connected than most published books I’ve ever read. Which brings me to my question: do you have a favorite published author that inspires you? Or just one you enjoy? Favorite books? Romance books? I need some reading to tide me over while you work. (Not rushing you at all! Take all the time you need to perfect your masterpieces!)

Hello, nonny!

Firstly, let me tell you how grateful I am for your kind words! Writing is a naturally solitary hobby so hearing from readers sends me to the moon!

My favorite author and the one who inspires me the most is John Green. I feel like his writing style is very easy and the characters have so much depth--Turtles All the Way Down is my favorite from him. I think he inspires me the most because while he technically writes YA, he addresses important themes like mental health or the fragility of life in his works and I try to do the same.

Regarding my favorite books, I have a lot lol. I was actually talking with my husband about this the other day (I jokingly told him he probably couldn't name my favorite book and then he proceeded to tell me my favorite book when we started dating 9 years ago and then the last three books I read so really the jokes on me LOL). Currently, my favorite book is Empire of Silence by Christopher Ruocchio. It's a space opera, my favorite, and his prose is something I wish I could emulate. Other honorable mentions are Remarkably Bright Creatures (fiction), Winter's Orbit (sci-fi-romance), One Day (which I titled a fic after bc I love it so much: romance), The Undertaking of Mercy and Hart (romantasy), the Hacienda (horror, but in a sexy priest kind of way), Starless Crown (fantasy), and Thrawn 2017 (star wars).

I wish I could tell you that I'd have a chapter up super quickly, but I'm writing my own novel!! I've been plucking away at Broken Keys, Locked Doors whenever I hit a wall in my original work, so it has been progressing very slowly.

Thank you again for your very kind words!! If you ever need more book recs, feel free to stop by! My asks are always open :D

[epickiya722]

❤️✨

Thank you for asking!!

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

There's quite a bit lines that I really like have I written but first one that comes to mind is from The Glow that Pierced His Soul. Long story short, that fic was based off my headcanon that Yuji's eyes glow like a cat sometimes and Gojo gets freaked out by it.

"Lies! Yuuji wouldn't even hurt a fly!" Same person Nobara seen punched through a wall with ease, but alright. "Why are you scared of him, huh?"

✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

The first one is for my fic Your Heartbeat is My Comfort. That fic is based on fanart from an artist I follow and I remember seeing their piece and thought "I have to write this!" And the artist commented!

I have not been able to stop screaming over this all day what an absolutely beautiful fic.....your interpretation is AMAZING T_T I love the Megumi who would do anything to protect Yuuji from harm even if it means "staining his hands" (WOWZA THAT LAST LINE) Love Megumi instantly shutting Yuuji down when he lies about his sleep, like Megumi is so in tune with Yuuji's emotions that he always knows when something is bothering him, but little does Yuuji know that Megumi has been watching over him AHHH Also Megumi wanting to hide Yuuji away from the world....Yuuji is so selfless but at the cost of his physical and mental health can you really blame Megumi for wanting to be a little selfish! :'3 The way you write Megumi's intense and heavy love is sooooo *chef's kiss*

LOVE LOVE LOVE "When Yuuji suffers, Megumi suffers. When Yuuji thrives, Megumi thrives." Yuuji is really his everything......and also Megumi admiring all of his features in the moonlight......gahh!!!! Also, it's a minor detail but I really like how you switched from Megumi and Yuuji using their given names in private but their surnames in public, it makes me think they secretly crave intimacy but aren't ready to reveal it to one another yet. I am seriously so honored that my art inspired you to write this masterpiece.....WAHHHH I truly cannot express my gratitude enough. Also this is the first time someone has ever written a fic based on my art so you don't know how much this is special to me T_T THANK YOU SO MUCH........🙏🙏🙏🙏

The second one is this one from The Pink Sky and Cherry Blossoms. For that fic, after rereading some chapters I just had this bright idea to write a fic with Uro and Yuji meeting. Currently, my fic is the only one tagged with Uro Takako & Itadori Yuuji.

Excellent work and incredible job. I’m shocked by how amazing this is. The descriptions are beautiful, and it was a wonderful surprise to be scrolling through random tags and seeing an unexpected Yuji & Uro tag. Giving it a try was a great choice, and I had a wonderful time reading.

Man, this was a great read. Thanks so much for writing this wholesome little piece.

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

[kdramaspace]

MEMBER OF THE MONTH   ↳ Congrats hanyi @fangrui

💌 NOTES FROM THE ADMINS

Layla: HANYI!!! first of all your gifs are MINDBLOWING!!! everything is perfectly done... the vibrant colors, the REDS in your gifs is just stunning, the layouts and the typography are perfection, that's the least i can say... all the time and work that must go on making all those gifs, i can only imagine.. your gifs and creativity are a feast to the eyes.. your gifs are honestly #gifsgoals... and it's an honor to have you as a part of our community, and i'm always looking for more of yours edits and wish for a new kdrama to inspire to give us more content... with love. ↳ favorite works: [ 1, 2, 3 ]

Sam: HANYI I think it goes without saying that your brain??? galaxy brain at all times. I don’t know how you come up masterpiece after masterpiece. the creativity you have is insane. plus I can always count on you to bless my dash with new happiness content. saehyun our belovedssss. no but I'm being completely honest, your sets always blow me away. the layouts and typography are so unique every time. no two sets are the same. I can always recognize your sets because you have such a distinctive style. especially with your use of reds and typography. I always know your sets will be lots of fun too. it’s an absolute joy to have you as part of our network. thank you and congrats! ↳ favorite works: [ 1, 2, 3 ]

Alexa: oh my GOODNESS hanyi your content is simply GOD TIER. the colors, the templates, the graphics and all the different techniques... i’m just constantly blown away by the world you put it. it’s absolutely STUNNING. i love your love of supernatural and scifi content when it comes to your korean content. i don’t think anyone could manage to make gore and zombies look as stunning as you do lmfao :’))) i’m also always interested to see what content you’re giffing outside of korean media. your gifs absolutely do justice to the stunning sets, costumes and sfx that so many of these dramas have!!! thank you so much for being a part of our network and for blessing us w/ your content! congrats!!!

↳ favorite works: [ 1, 2, 3 ]

[nightcat2609]

I just have to get this off my chest lmao: what I wanna say about Owl City's latest album Coco Moon, released on March 24, 2023.

If you see this post and haven't listened to Coco Moon yet, here's the Spotify link. The album's also on Youtube, Youtube Music if you have that, Apple Music and iTunes.

and on Bandcamp, you can also purchase the album there for as low as $1 (name your price basically) and iirc you can also get the studio master versions there.

On February 10, 2023 Adam posted this long but lovely post. It's also on his official Twitter and Instagram pages. I'm gonna quote some lines from this post along the way

First of all, this album has been a revelation. The five or so years of waiting for a new album since 2018 has been truly worth it. Adam didn't dissappoint me as usual and forever may it continue.

"Some songs on “Coco Moon” are metaphorical in a story kind of way. I like to read books because books take me places. When I pick up a book, I leave planet Earth. I wrote a few songs inspired by this." Ah a fellow book lover, I love the way books and stories can take us anytime and anywhere even for just a few moments

"And then some songs on “Coco Moon” are odd. Meaning, some have unusual structures, some don’t make a lot of sense, a few are extremely wordy, others are a little too long." Maybe this is me getting old but I love the long and wordy songs on Coco Moon, Adam truly has a gift with words and storytelling. It'll be a welcome surprise if any Coco Moon songs go viral since online virality these days tends to favor short songs, not that's it's a bad thing. just a sign of the times I guess.

"Creative oddity is beautiful to me so I embraced it." this is the Adam I know and love since I heard Fireflies on the radio back in 2009. And true to these lyrics from "Fiji Water" from his Cinematic album:

"And I'd say "Hey, there is more to me than meets the eye

Let me be who I wanna be"

And I'd say "Hey, I'm an oddity and that's alright

Let me fly and follow my dreams"

"The point is that “Coco Moon” is a very Owl City album. It is quirky. It is odd. It is unapologetically myself. I made an album that is exactly the way it was supposed to be, not an album that popular culture, or algorithms, or analytics, or anyone else on planet Earth told me to make. I wrote me. Average, ordinary, weird me."

Imo nobody in pop music these is doing it quite like Owl City. It makes for more unique and progressive vibes. And as a reminder because of some songs in Coco Moon with a Christian undertone, Adam's Christian faith has been a part of him since day one. At the very least, we should respect that and let him cook.

"CS Lewis said to Tolkien, “If they won’t write the kinds of books we want to read, we shall have to write them ourselves.”" - I feel this on a deep level since at this rate I have to write some the stories I wanna read.

"I started by imagining an album I wanted to listen to. The result is “Coco Moon.” I’m so grateful and honored to be able to share it with you soon."

After finally hearing all of Coco Moon this week, it's been an honor in return to listen to a masterpiece of an album. Adam has come a long way from being a kid in a small town, dreaming about seeing the world, to who he is today, experiencing the good, the bad, and the ugly of life. And he's even found the love of his life along the way! I'm so happy for him and Abbey. They deserve everything good in this world. Thank you very much good sir Adam.

Right now I need to listen to the album some more times to pick favorites. I'll update this post when I've made my picks.

[reasoningdaily]

From Braids: Fingerwave Saint, based on halos in Renaissance paintings.Courtesy of Crowe

Forget Pinterest inspiration boards—there are some hairstyles that are so inventive, the Louvre would be lucky to have them. Exhibit A: the intricate, braid-centric masterpieces crafted by fine artist Shani Crowe. After receiving a grant from Chicago-based nonprofit 3Arts, Crowe launched Braids, a series of photographs capturing real women adorned with her elaborate hairstyles. Though she’s been commissioned by celebrities such as Solange to create custom works (you might have seen one on SNL), Crowe happily considers new models—who don’t pay for the service.

You’re trained in film, photography, painting, and pottery. Why choose braids as your medium?

I’m a very tactile person—I’m good with my hands. And I’ve been thinking of doing a project like this since I was a kid. I come from a large family, and we often did each other’s hair. I always saw having my hair braided as a privilege, and I wanted to share that.

From Above All.Courtesy of Crowe

The pieces you make are so ornate.

Oh, man. They take hours and hours and hours. The crown I made for Solange took me fiftysomething because of all the individual Swarovski crystal beads and armature—and that’s just for the separate hairpiece attached to her braids. Usually, my looks average five or six hours. You really get to know someone.

How long do people wear them?

Typically, the styles are taken down right after I shoot, because they’re not really wearable. People have to go to work. But if you want a style to last, you should tie a satin scarf flat to your hair at night to keep the braids lying down, or wear a silk bonnet—it helps. Avoid cotton, because it takes moisture away from your hair.

Crowe and Solange backstage at SNL.Courtesy of Crowe

How do you keep styles sharp and eliminate frizz?

I like braids to be very crisp and neat; it’s about the finish for me. You’ve got to pay special attention to the part. If your scalp is dry and an oil isn’t working, try witch hazel on a cotton pad, and gently rub—that’ll help with flakes without drying out the hair.

What’s your view on nonblack women wearing cornrows or dreadlocks?

American culture, in general, doesn’t do a good job of honoring indigenous art. There’s never a moment where it’s like, These braids are from.… People will just do it and say it’s just a hairstyle. Personally, I’m not here to tell people what they can and cannot do. I know what I’m going to do: I’m going to continue to create.

To prep dry hair for styling, Crowe spritzes Vernon François Pure~Fro Moisture Spray (2) before a blow-dry: “It makes hair feel very soft, and it’s a way to help hair receive product a little better.” Harry Josh Pro Tools Pro Styling Clips (1) keep hair in controlled sections for manipulation over long periods of time. To create a perfect design with razor-sharp lines, Crowe saturates hair with Ampro Pro Styl Shine ’n Jam Conditioning Gel (4) before parting it with a heatproof Fromm Diane Ionic Anti-Static Comb (3). “This holds hair together on one side of the part, making it easier to keep flyaways in their position because they’re gelled down.”

[quecnzelina]

🎶 👏🏽 Yo soy Boricua…pa’que tu lo sepas!!! 👏🏽 🎶 I woke up this morning with happy tears rolling down my face and PRAAAAYING that it wasn’t a dream like it always was. I wish I could hug every. single. one of you in the audience and everyone sending their love from home. You have NO IDEA how much this meant to me. This weekend.. my life changed forever. I’m so honored.. so grateful and feel incredibly blessed to have had the support I had last night.. from the fans, my beautiful family, my hero’s, to my coworkers.. to finally hearing HHH say “I’m so proud of you.” …and he was talking to me this time 🥲 I’m crying even typing this. To represent my people IN Puerto Rico.. man, I’ll never ever forget this.. neither will my family.. and I promise, you’ll get all of me EVERY TIME. This is not over, this is just the beginning.. someday I will become WWE Women’s Champion. “A hero is not one who never falls, it’s the one who gets up again and again.. never losing sight of their dreams.” - Rock Lee MASSIVE THANK YOU to the village that created the masterpiece I wore yesterday. They stayed with me every step of the way making sure my hair was on point! And worked so hard on the whole outfit AND BEAUTIFUL FLAG.. I felt like a super hero, a princess and a rockstar all at once! My team slayed my make up and made sure that no matter how hard I cried, I’d still glitter like gold! I can't say enough about my outfit, them crystals bruh!!! 🤩 insanely iconic kicks! I love that my crew got my tan just right and accentuated my abs 😂 I’m SO LUCKY to have you all 🙏🏽 Puerto Rico.. I love you!! LWO is mi familia.. I’m honored to stand alongside all of you. Thank you for having my back and inspiring me to keep fighting. And now, I get to be the arms of my 7 fur babies & my incredibly supportive and loving man. @tommyfxcknend I wouldn’t be where I am personally or professionally without him. Have to say, hitting the 619 for Rey, shimmying for Eddie Guerrero and then dropping @aussiebrutality with a meteora for my Tommy was the coolest thing ever. Daddy, I love you. 🇵🇷❤️

[cringy-username-dream-wanderlust]

Top 10 movies

I was tagged by @whereforartthoumisthios. The first time I ever got tagged, thank you 🥰

Avatar The Last Airbender

THE TV SHOW, DEFINITELY NOT ANYTHING ELSE… (there is no movie in Ba Sing Se)

Not a movie, but still the best series of all time. It deserves to be mentioned and it deserves to be number one. Nothing compares. Labelled a kids show but it is so much more than that. The Asian culture, the redemption arcs, the characters, the plot, Zuko. I genuinely feel bad for anyone who never had the pleasure of seeing this.. and I don’t mean that in a degrading way. Many adults have recently watched this for the first time and love it. It’s a masterpiece. It changed my life and I will love this show forever.

Les Intouchables

The last movie I ever watched with my grandma before she passed away. It’s such a beautiful story of the meaningful friendship between two men, one who’s just trying to survive and scrape by and one who is fully paralyzed and is looking for a caretaker. Probably the most inspirational movie I have ever seen. It’s a French movie but with subtitles it is very enjoyable and I HIGHLY recommend.

Encanto

Perfect. I love this movie so much. It’s my comfort movie. Probably because I too was raised in a tight, close family with my grandma being the matriarch. I love Mirabel and as an autistic person I really relate to her and her struggles of not belonging and being left out constantly. (I’m doing much better nowadays, don’t worry haha) I also love the Colombian culture and the story. The songs are bops too. It’s so refreshing to see a Disney movie that doesn’t entirely revolve around the female main character being obsessed with a handsome man. This story is about family and it’s beautiful.

Avatar

NOT RELATED TO ATLA (no movie… Ba Sing Se…)

A classic. I can’t find the words to describe it. It’s just a beautiful, inspiring masterpiece. It’s insane how ahead this movie was of its time. Humans truly are the bad guys for a lot of living beings. If you haven’t seen it you really need to. The spirituality, the love story, the alien culture, the LANDSCAPES OMG.

Frozen 2

Better than the first one imo. And that’s saying a lot because I love the first movie. I just love the story and the sisterly bond between Anna and Elsa. I love Olaf, I love Kristoff, I love Sven. Reindeers are truly better than people.

A Cure For Wellness

My favorite horror movie. It’s such a mindfuck. It’s creepy, disturbing and it keeps you thinking from start to finish. Such a unique concept too, a horror movie in a wellness resort. It kinda makes my want to go there too if I didn’t know what happens. I highly recommend if you’re into psychological horrors/thrillers. There are no jumpscares.

Get Out

A horror movie again, but without jumpscares (maybe some tiny ones but they aren’t too bad). Without giving too much of the plot away, the stuff happening behind closed doors…It’s so messed up and it’s so sad that this is loosely based off of current racism POC are still facing. I do think the story sends a very good message though and I am glad it was made by Jordan Peele who is POC himself. The main character Chris is a very funny and intelligent person and it’s so satisfying to see a main character in a horror movie make all the right choices though.

folklore: the long pond studio sessions

I love Taylor Swift and her album folklore.

Miss Americana

I love Taylor Swift.

Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper

Sort of an honorable mention because I actually haven’t seen this movie in over a decade, but I still love Barbie movies and especially this one! It's my favorite! I used to pretend I was Erica lol. The music and the story are so good! I’ve been trying to find a dvd of it in thrift shops but so far no luck.

Thanks again for the tag girl!❤️

[katasstrophy]

Riverrr bby I'm so sorry if I bother u w yet another ask. I'm not sure if the prev one goes tru cause it says there was an error butttt I'm here to proclaim my love for you and all your precious works!!! What masterpieces!! I love them all, binged and screaming in the tags, also irl <333 I got those Himalayan salts tablets to clear my throat. ALSKSKJ BUT BABE!!! I really enjoy all your works I don't know how else to tell you that. But I'm kinda afraid for going all out fic after fic I'm scared it messes up and cause sumtg bad. isk how it works. PLEASE I hope not w the amount of time I rb back to back and went on an emotional rollercoaster ride! Anyways don't forget your fluids, stay sexc and get some beauty rest!!! 🦢💋

omg swan bbie you could absolutely never bother me ever!!! 🥺 this is the only ask of yours i have (besides the tokyorev one, which i will get to very very soon 👀) so you’re all good babes<3

AND OH MY GOODNESS!!!! SWAN!!! YOU ABSOLUTE GEM!!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I’M KISSING YOU SOOO HARD I’M HANDING YOU THE ENTIRE WORLD IN MY HANDS IT’S YOURS <33333 MY HEART????? ALSO YOURS SNIFFLE 🥹🥹🥹 i probably reread all your lovely amazing tags like 30 bajillion times now you are just. WAAAAHHH a dream i am so honored and incredibly happy that you liked all my fics!!!! like genuinely i’m so touched i was losing my mind right along side you. and pls never worry about the reblogs!!! as far as i know tumblr won’t hound you for it lol so GO CRAZY GO STUPID WHENEVER!!!

i’m sooooo glad you enjoyed the roller coaster ride my love!!!! 🥺🫶🫶🫶 you’re welcome back anytime mwah <333 i’m staying hydrated and sexy just as you wished (you even inspired me to fix my sleep schedule LOL) i love you so so much and i’m wishing you the best vibes ever 🤍🤍