#I had a proper drawing of him along with this doodle but I liked the doodle better so here's just that GHDFJK

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Gee wiz that weird man I keep seeing seems like a nice dude I wonder what his deal is

[lydiimae]

The stars, the moon

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI!

Warnings: Talk of drinking, sexist old ideas about women, talk of sex, Anthony being a cutie shhh, oral sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, body worship (f receiving), heavy praise, lovemaking more than hardcore sex oopsies

A.N: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET TO ME ISTG T-T the love on my first two fics is so heartwarming. i'm so very glad you liked them both so much ^-^ Benny and Bridgerton as a whole are both so very important to me so i'm glad i did them both well. anyways my loves, this is an Anthony fic that i hope i can do as well as i did Ben. i was listening to Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine and it gave me this idea! soooo here is an incredibly fluffy, (and smutty hehe) love filled Ant fic hehe<3 enjoy and thank you again <3 p.s that scene the gif is from sends my mind into a spiral CONSTANTLY my roman empire fr p.p.s I FINALLY GOT DIVIDERS, so now my fics will look a little cleaner i hope hehe >_<

Growing up next to the Bridgertons had been fun and eventful, to say the very least. You were there through every trial and tribulation their family had gone through, and them with yours.

You and your three sisters had always gotten along with the seven siblings. Being the youngest and most... rambunctious of them you had gotten along with Eloise and Benedict the most. They had views of marriage and duty that were similar to yours, and when you were younger you and Benedict would spend hours making doodles on the walls of the gardens at your estate.

Your sisters, who were much more of the traditional women you would often find in the ton, tended to be more akin to the eldest Bridgerton brother and sister. Daphne and Anthony, however kind and loving they both were, were always too strict or, in Daphne's case, too proper for your liking.

You had always thought of Anthony as the moon. He thrived in darkness and was often gone before you even noticed he was there. You never knew why he left balls early, or why you spotted him with that opera singer in the deepest corners of gardens or tucked away in libraries.

Until you grew up, that is. The first time you snuck out of the confines of your room was when you were ten and eight, right after the first ball of your first social season. Benedict had insisted on you sneaking out the window of your bedroom so you could tag along with him to a party a fellow artist was throwing, and you, out of pure curiosity, obliged.

You got there and had your first everything while Benedict was painting, or so he claimed, in another room. You kissed the lord, whose name you cannot remember to this day, and then you went beyond that. Sex. It was wonderful, you decided, and from then on you had much more of it.

Anthony was perceptive, he noticed the change in your behavior and one night even decided to ask Benedict about it. Benedict being Benedict told him everything in his usual carefree manner, not thinking twice about it. Anthony reacted quite strangely however, he just... turned on his heel and walked into his study, locking himself in for hours.

He avoided you at all costs from then on. It was strange, but then again, he was the moon. The moon cannot be out forever.

Anthony had always thought of you as the stars, a happy, mischievous young woman who thrived in the dark. You provided a light to every room you walked into that was too great for anyone to look away from. You were intricate, difficult to read and figure out, and yet you were also so intriguing that every man wanted to do just that.

You were also incredibly mischievous, he knew that from the moment you were born. Being eight years older, and a close family friend, Anthony was one of the first who got to meet you. You had always had that sparkle in your eye, like you were in on this grand plan that no one else was.

When you got older, it only got worse. You were constantly getting in trouble, whether that be drawing on your garden's brick walls with his brother or reading books about math or, fittingly, astronomy. Your father always described you as boyish, to which he would have to agree. You got into fencing when you were ten and two and immediately had a knack for it. When you were six and ten, you snuck off with Benedict and got taught how to hunt.

He was never attracted to your sisters as they were too... boring for his taste. They had interests in things like the latest fashion trends, or hairstyles, and he was sure that none of them had ever glanced at a book. It was quite comforting to know, that because of your foolish ways and thinking, he would never be attracted to you either. Or so he thought.

You were wearing a light blue dress when you entered your first ball, your arm tucked snugly with your father's. Your hair was pinned up more elegantly than he had ever seen it, a few of the still unruly, wavy strands fluttering in the breeze that your white fan made. Stunningly gorgeous in every way, and so ladylike. It was strange.

He had almost assured himself that he would never feel this way towards any woman like you, after all, his list of requirements for the next Viscountess was long and specific, to say the least. Yet there you were, walking towards his family, and he was very much sure he was attracted to you.

So when he noticed the jewelry you started using to hide the dark marks on your neck and the silly excuses you would use to leave balls early, it was worrying. He asked Benedict and his worst fears were made a reality, your innocence was gone. You were loose, in his mind. He could not, no would not, be attracted to a woman without her maidenhead. He refused.

The only way he could avoid that attraction was to avoid you at all costs, which is exactly what he did. He excused himself from every room you walked into, and every conversation. On the rare occasion that you somehow managed to worm yourself into a conversation with him, however, he gave short answers and cold glares.

His heart ached when he noticed your light dim after he left, but then again you were the stars. All stars have to burn out someday.

You found his insistence on completely avoiding you to be quite tiresome, after all, you considered him to be like a brother. An annoying, headstrong, arrogant, prick of a brother but a brother nonetheless.

You look over your shoulder to where he is talking to a young debutante, wishing that he would at least glance over. You would never admit it to yourself, but after his company waned you missed it quite a lot. You could talk to Benedict or Eloise, sure, but there was something about annoying Anthony that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

"Miss L/N, are you listening?" The lord, who you were supposed to be listening to, asks. You quickly turn back to him and part your lips to make an excuse, but quickly think better of it. "No, my lord. I apologize, my mind seems to be running from me tonight." You mutter with a soft smile. He nods in turn before continuing to speak about his latest hunting trip, in which you have absolutely no interest.

You excuse yourself when he is done rambling and make your way toward the Viscount, wanting to finally know the real reason why he has made it his life's mission to avoid you. You wish, so desperately, to see the moon again.

He sees you coming and his heart tightens, you look as beautiful as always. You are wearing dark blue, a gorgeous dress he thinks, and your hair is done up just how he likes it. You have on gold jewelry, which sparkles in the low candlelight with every step you take.

He should talk to you, he really should, and yet he cannot bring himself to. You are not the kind of woman he wishes to make the next Viscountess, not even close to checking off any of the boxes he has on his long list for what a woman should be.

So, instead, he settles for leading the young woman he is speaking with to the dance floor. He passes you without a word but falters momentarily when he catches a whiff of your perfume. Your scent, even.

You had always smelled, however strange it might sound, so comforting. Your family's colors were a light purple, the crest having two bunches of lavender flowers on it. You smelled the part, always having some semblance of lavender to you that wafted through the room whenever you entered. It wasn't strong, no, but it was just enough to get his heart racing. It wasn't just lavender that made it so intoxicating, there was something else there. Something that he could only describe as just... you. He smiles to himself at the many fond memories that come with it.

He catches the young woman looking at him in confusion and quickly puts on a straight face, continuing to walk her to the dance floor, but not before noticing the look of despondency on your face. His heart aches, but it must be done. He could not let himself fall for you, no matter how much he longed to see the brightness of the stars again.

Your heart breaks when he walks past you with nothing but a faint semblance of a smile, and for whatever reason, you feel yourself tear up. You wonder if you had done something wrong, or said something in a passing conversation that had rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps even entertained a man he had trouble with. Whatever it was, you did not like the unfamiliar feeling his avoidance brought.

Something that you had always hidden from everyone, including yourself, was your feelings. You felt no need to be a woman who expressed love openly, nor a woman who got teary at the slightest inconvenience. It is why you liked the parties you went to, sex and alcohol were wonderful to drown out feelings that you would rather not feel. Something else you had always hidden or shoved down, was your feelings for Anthony.

He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, what with his grey eyes and his thick brown hair. The things that you didn't like, such as his ignorant views of women, or his want to always be the best, were often drowned out by the fact that the man was extremely loving and protective of those he cared about. Not only that, but he was like you in that he was truly sensitive when he did not try and shove it down. He made you want to sing his praises from every balcony in London, to profess your love in front of all of the ton so everyone could see that he was yours.

You realize you have been standing in the same spot for what has to be at least five minutes now, and that a tear that had escaped in your reminiscing has now made it down your cheek. You quickly walk out to a balcony and lean on the railing, and for once, you allow yourself to cry.

He finds you after his dance with the incredibly boring debutante he decided to occupy himself with. He didn't want to find you, but his feet automatically found themselves to you. As if something deep inside him was naturally drawn to you and your stupid free-spirited nature.

He crowds around your back. "Is everything alright?" He whispers and is completely taken aback when he sees your face. You look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. It was surprising to say the very least as he cannot remember the last time he saw you cry. "My God, Y/N, what happened?" He asks, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"Why do you hate me?" You whisper back, and he is even more surprised than before. Hate? God he could never hate you, sure he avoided you, but he could never truly hate anything about you. No matter how much he tried.

He was just standing there like he had not been avoiding you for the past two months. Like he had not ignored your every attempt to speak with him, like he had not completely shattered your soul. It made you so angry that you could not stop the foolish words slipping past your lips.

"It is as if I have committed a cardinal sin, as if I am some heathen you cannot stand to be around and not a woman you grew up with." You say, taking a deep breath as heartbreak shifts to anger. "It is not fair. I have wracked every corner of my memory trying to figure out what I have done wrong and still, I turn up with nothing. I..." You falter and turn to look up at the stars. "You are so distant. I find myself aching without you, Anthony. Like a piece of my soul has broken off with your disappearance and is with you for eternity." You whisper, closing your eyes briefly before turning back to him.

"I ask you again, why do you hate me? What have I done?" You plead, searching his eyes for any semblance of his old self. His eyes widen in response and he takes one of your hands. "I do not hate you. God Y/N, how could I ever hate you?" He breathes and your heart flutters at the look in his eyes. As if you are the only woman on earth. He has returned back to you. The moon has risen again.

"I... I have tried to hate you, yes, but every time you are near something in me longs to touch you in ways that would make any lady blush. I hate that you make me feel this way, so foolishly in love that I can barely form a coherent thought, that the Viscount I am becomes but a memory, but I could never hate you." He confesses, bringing his hands to your waist.

Your eyes water as he continues. "You are a loose woman, or so I so foolishly tried to make myself believe. I ignorantly put that label upon you so I could have a reason to not profess from every rooftop in London how much I adore you and I can never forgive myself for it." He whispers, wiping the tears that have somehow escaped your eyes without your knowledge. "I will never be able to profess how sorry I am, but I can hope that in time you can forgive me for how foolish I have been." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How long?" Is all you can manage to croak out in return to his beautiful confession, resting your hands atop his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. "Since I was a young man, darling. Far too long I have kept it from you." He whispers back as your heart flutters at the title he has given you. "I have loved you since I was a girl." You whisper back. "So I suppose we are both fools." You grin.

He chuckles at that, his hands rubbing small patterns into the small of your back. "Always the witty one, hm? You are truly as bright and as mischievous as the stars, my love." Your heart hammers in the stars, at the way he calls you his love but even more than that, he thinks you to be the stars. "You and I have similar minds, Ant. I always thought you were like the moon, so serious and so attuned to darkness. Yet, so beautiful." You confess, opening your eyes to look into his own. Your cheeks flush at the sight that lies before you.

He is grinning, as if you had just given him the world. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, to which you eagerly return as your eyes close and one of your gloved hands cups his cheeks. He pulls away after a moment. "The moon is nothing without the stars." He whispers, and you smile softly. "I shall ask your father for your hand come tomorrow if you let me." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your brow.

Your heart flutters and you cup his cheeks. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Anthony Bridgerton." You whisper and he grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss is more intense than the first, more confident as he knows that you are now officially his. You wish for nothing more than to melt into him, become his both body and mind for the rest of your days. The thought sends shivers down your spine, making your core heat up at the thought of finally sharing your most intimate self with the man who has plagued your thoughts for years.

As if reading your mind he pulls back, but only just. "Might I invite you back to my bedroom, my star?" He whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling and nod eagerly. "Please do." You whisper back and he grins, straightening back up and grabbing your hand before pulling you out to where the carriages are. Not before muttering something to Benedict, who smirks playfully and winks at the two of you in return.

One carriage ride full of open-mouthed kisses and love marks later and you are getting lifted out of the carriage and carried into the Bridgerton estate. You had so many fond memories here, you are elated that you would have the privilege of raising a family in the big estate. The thought of a family with Anthony makes your chest feel tight with emotion and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to calm yourself.

He notices the change of emotion as he carries you through the front door, ignoring the many questioning glances the both of you receive from the servants who still linger in the hallways, and kisses the top of your head. "What is it, darling?" He murmurs in your ear as he walks up the stairs, toward his bedroom.

"I am only being sensitive as I envision our future that I have for so long ached for." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his neck to assure him that nothing is truly wrong. He groans a bit and smiles down at you as he ducks into his bedroom and places you on the bed. "It shall be a grand one. One filled with happiness and light, I assure you." He hums as he locks the door before climbing over you and peppering your face with kisses, which makes you giggle softly.

He moves his hands to your hair, taking out all of the intricately placed pins so he can see it in the state he loves the most, untamed and unruly, just like you. He runs his hands through your hair once he has it down, pressing kisses down your neck and to your collarbone which he bites. You whine softly at the feeling, but more so at the fact that you know he is going to leave marks. The thought of parading around a ball with his lovebites on your skin makes your cunt dampen and your thighs rub together in an attempt to relieve the ache that settles in your core.

He feels the movements of your body below him and groans as your knee brushes against his clothed cock accidentally, making him harden further than he already has. He continues to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands move under you. He pulls you up to a sitting position and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the soft noises he draws from you as his hands move to your back to work on the buttons that hold your dress up.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he lets out a groan as he exposes your bare back, the choice you made to forgo any undergarments becoming the smartest one you made all day. He makes quick work of your dress, parting from your lips as he throws it across the room. "Christ." He growls when he sits back and gazes at your naked body.

Your nipples are peaked from both the cold air of the room and the arousal caused by the way he is gazing down at you. The look of pure desire in his eyes makes you flood down your thighs, which he picks up on instantly. He grins, almost a cocky grin, before removing his clothes from the upper half of his body.

He bends down when he is bare-chested and kisses from your collarbone, down to your right breast. He sucks on the soft skin just to the side of your hardened nipple, making your hips cant up and into his, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckles deeply and moves a hand to yours, so you can have something to hang onto, the other moving to hold your hip down.

He pulls up briefly and rests his chin on your chest, gazing up at you adoringly. "You are perfect, Y/N. Every mark, every blemish, every imperfection is so gorgeous. So perfect for me." He murmurs and you flush, squeezing his hand in yours as a silent thank you as you are unsure if you could even form a sentence now. "Mine." He murmurs with a soft smile before returning his attention to your breasts.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you cry out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the bud. You squeeze his hand and your back arches up into him, making him groan. He pushes you back down, all while his mouth sucks and swirls at your sensitive nipple, and rubs soothing circles on your hip with his thumb.

After a moment, he moves to your other breast, giving that one just as much attention. You whine as he bites down softly before pulling up and beginning to mark each of your breasts. He lets go of your hip and smears his hand down your thigh, gently parting your legs as he kisses down your stomach.

You gasp as he gives a kiss to your naval and look down just as he flashes a cheeky grin. He continues his trail of kisses right down to your patch of hair, your free hand grasping at the sheets while the other squeezes his. You cry out when he licks a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing onto your swollen clit.

He takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it slowly, his hand moving back to your hips when you whine and try to grind against him. You roll your head back, pressing it into the pillow. You get a whiff of his scent and it sends a zing of pleasure to your abused clit just as he moves his mouth down to your swollen hole to drink from you like a man starved.

You moan into his pillow, taking the fabric into your mouth and sucking as pleasure ripples through your entire body. He moves his mouth back to your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your body, groaning at how tight you are. You cry out, the sound still muffled by his pillow, at the feeling of his finger and the vibrations his noises send through your body.

He adds another finger and begins to curl them into your walls, hitting that spongey spot that makes you scream. Your toes curl as he pumps his fingers in and out of your body in tune with the swirling of his tongue against your clit. You finally take your face out of his pillow. "Close... Fuck please please please, Anthony." You babble as you begin to see stars. You come screaming his name, his fingers gripping your hip so hard you're sure you will be marked there too.

He cleans you up with his tongue before returning to your lips and giving you a swift, but sweet, kiss on your lips. He sits up and slowly rids himself of his trousers, his cock standing proud against his stomach. The sight makes you mewl and spread your legs even wider in anticipation of him filling you until his tip meets your womb.

He settles between your legs and takes both of your hands in his, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you, Y/N." He murmurs. "I love you, Anthony." You return, and his lips are on yours. He slowly pushes his cock into your body, groaning into your mouth as you moan into his. He bottoms out and lets you adjust, kissing down your neck to your shoulder.

You gently push your hips down as a signal that he can move, and he grins against your skin. He begins to slowly rock in and out of your body, groaning at the noises he draws from your cunt. "Faster, Ant. Please." You gust into his hair, squeezing his hands tight in your own.

He does not need to be told twice. He begins to slam into your body, making your toes curl as you scream out. He continues his brutal pace, the sound of body meeting body filling the bedroom. He presses his forehead to yours just as your eyes shut. "Look at me." He whispers, stalling for a moment. "I want to see how good I make you feel. I've waited far too long for you to hide, my love." He breathes, and you open your eyes.

He gives that stupid arrogant smirk before beginning to thrust into you just as hard as before as if he never stopped. Your mouth hangs ajar, your mind too focused on the feeling of his cock to even try and stop the moans that flow freely from your mouth.

He moves a hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and circling to the rhythm of his thrusts. He growls when you clench around his length and moan his name. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck. "Come with me." He whispers, biting down on the skin.

The action sends you over the edge. You come for the second time, screaming his name and he follows soon after, painting your insides with his seed. He works you through your orgasm before pulling out and nuzzling your neck.

After a moment he climbs off of you and saunters to his bathroom, leaving you dazed on the bed. You turn your head and press your face into his pillow once more, letting his scent calm you down. He returns a moment later and laughs warmly at the sight. You blush at the noise and look up at him. "Funny that," He says, gesturing to his pillow as he cleans your thighs with the washcloth he brought out. "I did the same thing today." He grins.

"Mmm. When was that, hm? Did you sneak into my bedroom?" You tease and he grins, shaking his head as he places the washcloth on the bedside and crawls into bed. "No, though I am flattered you would think I would be so bold." He hums, pulling you under the covers with him and taking you into his arms.

You smile softly and bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes. "I did it when I walked past you at the ball. The young woman I was talking to thought I went mad. I had to stop and think of all of the fond memories I have of you." He murmurs as he rests his head atop yours, kissing it softly before closing his eyes as well.

You smile softly at the thought of him stopping mid-step just to think of you. It warms your soul. "I love you." You whisper, slowly nodding off to the sound of his heartbeat.

"And I love you, my star." He whispers before following you into a deep slumber.

The moon truly cannot thrive without the stars.

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

✧˚ · .Painting their portrait ✧˚ · .

Note: I hope everyone is doing well 💖 I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖 If you want to commission me check my ko-fi and pinned post for prices. Thank you!

When he found out about your talent, he immediately bought you the most expensive equipment. Whether you like to paint on a canvas or on a graphic tablet, he will buy you only the best products. 

He's very old-fashioned and wants a classic portrait. He'll arrange a proper setting to fit his taste. With a fireplace in the background, an expensive suit, and some other decoration that screams old money, he’ll sit with his legs crossed in his comfy chair while he looks at you. A soft smile would appear on his face, especially when you two locked eyes. You thought about painting that lovely smile and contouring those sweet dimples, but you know him better and chose to leave a stoic expression on his face. His soft side is for your eyes only. 

He won’t mind sitting for hours because he'll have the greatest company. You two will gossip about the hottest tea at work, talk about his latest projects, and besides that, he'll have his romantic moments when he tells you how much he cherishes you. 

The final result leaves him in awe.

"Darling, this is astonishing." He said, amber eyes studying every inch of the canvas and feeling an immense sense of pride washing over him. He couldn't take his eyes off your masterpiece.

"I knew you had it in you," he began after a short period of total silence. "Yet you managed to exceed my expectations."

You breathe a sigh of relief. Even if he was your boyfriend, it was hard to please him. He didn't coddle you, so when he praised you, you knew it was real. 

He will hang that portrait with pride in his office, and he’ll tell everyone with pride that his partner made the incredible art.

With the corner of his eye, he noticed how you kept shifting your gaze from your notebook to him. Sometimes you'd stare longer at him, and sometimes your hand would go faster and then slower as if you were trying to remember something. Sometimes, you would scratch your head with the pencil and sighed in frustration. 

Whatever you were doodling, it wasn't coming along as you wanted.

Not being able to control his curiosity anymore, he slowly approached your desk. 

"Whatcha doing there?" he asked, looking over your shoulder, directly in the notebook. A wide smile appeared shortly. 

You didn't hide the page in time, and Leon saw the sketches with his face. You drew him from three different angles. Even if you were in a hurry, you still captured his soft features—his genuine smile and his gentle gaze.

"I- uh-I..." you fumbled, hands going in random directions over the paper.

"You don't have to hide it. I think it looks good." He smirked and went back to his desk. 

"Thanks. Listen, I was taking a break, and I felt a bit of inspiration coming in-"

"You don't have to excuse yourself." He chucked and turned to face you. In that moment, you saw a faint blush on his cheeks. "I think it looks great, given how fast you draw."

"And given how much you fidget,"

He chuckled. 

"Seriously, man, lay off that coffee." 

You both laughed, making some people turn their attention to you out of curiosity. A quick glance around, and you quiet down a bit. 

"If you want to finish, I'll try my best to stand still." 

"I would appreciate that." 

You both smiled at each other. Time went by fast, and by the time you finished, the office was empty. None of you felt the time passing by as you got to know each other better. Leon loved his portraits and "stole" your notebook. 

He loved everything you did. Every gesture, every tic, everything was just perfect for him. 

What he cherished most was your talent when it came to art. Everything you touched turned into a masterpiece, something so beautiful that it can’t be described by a simple man. So, when you wanted to paint him, he looked at you in shock. 

"Me?" 

"Yes, you." 

"Why?" he chuckled. 

"Because I want to. And because I want an excuse to stare at your picture for hours while you are away on missions." 

He pulled you closer and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

"Alright. Make sure to highlight my good side." 

"As if you have a bad one." 

Despite loving how affectionate and supportive you were with him, he never understood why. He viewed himself as a rough, cranky man who got on everyone's nerve. For short, an asshole. But to you, he wasn't like that. Despite the hardships in his life, he still maintained a soft gaze. 

Naturally, he wondered why you wanted him to be part of your beautiful portfolio. And more importantly, did he deserve to be part of it?

For the next couple of days, he waited for you to finish. He would peek in your room to see the progress, but you didn't let him. You wanted to surprise him.

When he came back from his mission, arriving in your comfy apartment, you shoved your art in front of his face. 

"Do you like it?" you asked excitedly.

He reluctantly took the canvas and stared at it for a few seconds. It's not that he didn't like it. It's the fact that he didn't recognize himself. His scars weren’t so prominent, his eyes weren't so full of sadness and anger, and his lips were curved in a soft smile. His features were softer, friendlier, even. 

“This… I know it’s me, but it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.”

"Why do you say that?”

“It feels like you retouched my face.”

“Hmm, no, this is how you look in real life. You're not as tough-looking as you think."

He loves it regardless, and he loves you even more. 

His muse in this life was you. Every time he looked at you, every time he saw your pretty face, his mood would lighten up in a heartbeat. A catastrophe at the moment would turn into something insignificant, something he could overcome with ease.

What he loved most about you was your talent. He was amazed at the beautiful things you could create with your hands, unlike him. He found refuge in your art, staring at your finished and unfinished projects for hours.

"Mi dulzura, what masterpieces are you creating?"

"Thank you, mi rey. Wanna be part of them?"

He smiled. He approached you with light footsteps, rubbing your shoulders gently when he reached your back.

"I'd be honoured."

He was thrilled. Being fascinated by your talent, he wanted to ask you long ago, but he didn't want to overcrowd you as you had many projects and clients. He didn't want to put more pressure. He simply told you that he doesn't want anything fancy.

He waited every day for you to finish, barely containing himself from asking dozens of questions. You had to kick him out multiple times from your room because you wanted to surprise him.

"Luis," you called out, "it's done!"

He came in a hurry, and as expected, he loved the result. He wouldn't stop praising you for creating another masterpiece.

"This is...I have no words. It's simply stunning."

"Well, you are stunning," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I guess I really am your Prince Charming."

You chuckled and were ready to say something, but he caught your lips in a quick, gentle kiss.

From that moment on, he becomes your one and only muse. You'd paint him in various poses and various clothes, sometimes with you as well. He would sit near you, watching you do your magic without saying a word. He loves and respects what you do a lot. 

[parkitaco]

"Mike," Holly huffs, standing over him with her arms crossed, "You're doing it bad."

Mike glances up from where he's sitting on the sidewalk in front of their house, covered in chalk and sweating. "Thanks," he says sarcastically, as Holly kicks her shoe at the drawing he's been half-heartedly creating on the ground. "You're the one who wanted to do this, remember?"

"You're hogging all the chalk," Holly whines, collapsing onto the ground and tossing an arm over her eyes in despair. Mike scowls; anyone who thinks he's dramatic has got him confused with the wrong Wheeler. "And you're not even doing it good."

Mike sighs, glancing down at his half-completed chalk drawing of a bunny, per Holly's request that there be more fun animals, Mike, it's too boring otherwise. She has a point - all his drawings have turned out sort of blob-shaped and ugly. "You do it, then," he says sourly, shoving the box of slightly broken chalk in her direction, and she grins all teeth at him.

Mike pulls his phone out of his pocket, grimacing when he sees the time. With Nancy off at college, he's been getting stuck on Holly-duty more and more often, and he's still got a solid three hours this morning before his mother gets home. Not that Holly's bad company, necessarily, though her incessant criticism certainly isn't helping her case. But it's summer, and Mike had had some vague plans of maybe going to the lake today, and hopefully dragging Will along with him. And besides, Holly's almost nine years old. She shouldn't need full-time looking after. Probably.

As if he's somehow read his mind from afar, Mike's phone buzzes with a text from Will:

hey :)

how's holly duty

Mike smiles, glancing up at his sister, who is currently scribbling out his misshapen rabbit drawing with a stick of red chalk, tongue poking out between her teeth as she concentrates on utterly destroying his attempt at art. It's hard to have authority over someone who knows you're a loser, he texts back, as Holly finishes scribbling out the bunny drawing and moves on to one of his earlier drawings.

don't call my boyfriend a loser :(, Will replies, and Mike's grin widens.

To be fair holly said it first, he types, and a piece of chalk hits him square on the forehead. He yelps and glances up from his phone, scowling at his sister. "Ow!"

"Stop texting Will," Holly says sourly, "and draw with me."

"Who says I'm texting Will?" Mike demands, snatching up the piece of chalk Holly had thrown at him. "And you said I was bad at drawing."

Holly stays silent, staring him down until he reluctantly leans over and starts drawing again. "I know you're texting Will because you have the dumb look on your face," she says, "And it's not fun if you're not drawing with me!"

"My face isn't dumb," Mike mumbles, but he goes back to drawing anyway. Maybe- fish are probably pretty easy to draw, right? He draws a circle with a triangle on the end that looks vaguely fish-like, and then sets about filing in multicolored scales.

Holly starts talking again, babbling on about whatever little world she's drawing at the other end of the pavement, and Mike nods along absently, doodling little circles around the slightly wonky-looking fish and praying that the sunscreen he'd hurriedly sprayed on before going outside is enough to protect his frighteningly pale skin from the blazing sun overhead. It's barely noon, but it's already getting hot, and the sidewalk is in direct sunlight with no trees around to shield him. Holly seems unbothered, though Mike can already see the bridge of her nose pinkening, and he'll undoubtedly get a lecture from his mother lately about taking proper care of his baby sister and whatnot. Even though Holly is literally not a baby, and Mike is pretty sure that when he was nine he was perfectly capable of putting on sunscreen.

It's a welcome relief, then, if a little surprising, when a shadow falls over him, and Mike jumps, dropping his chalk and raising a hand to shield his eyes as he glances up at the person standing over him. When he sees who it is, his entire body relaxes, a slow smile stretching across his face.

Will matches it, offering a little wave as he surveys the situation; Mike, covered in chalk and doodling multicolored circles all over the sidewalk, with his sister five feet away frantically scribbling out his earlier drawings. "Hi," Will says, amused, and Mike waves back, grinning a little sheepishly. "Are we having fun?"

"Hi, Will!" Holly chirps before Mike can answer, popping her head up and smiling brightly. "Mike is being a bummer," she informs him seriously, and Will laughs.

"Is that so," he replies, eyes flicking to Mike, and he nudges Mike's knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No," Mike replies sourly, giving Holly a scathing glare, "I'm being super nice, actually."

Holly is unperturbed, sticking her tongue out at him and going back to drawing, and Will laughs again as he sinks to the ground in front of Mike, crossing his legs beneath him and leaning back on his palms. He looks good like this, warm and tan in the summer sun with a teasing twinkle in his eye and his white t-shirt tucked neatly into his jeans.

"Hi," Will says again, low and soft, reaching forward and tugging at the collar of Mike's t-shirt until he leans forward for a quick kiss. In his peripheral, Mike watches Holly pull a face of disgust, and actively decides to pretend he doesn't notice. "I like your drawing," Will says, glancing down at the fish Mike has been slaving away at, and Mike flushes, whining in embarrassment and scooting away.

"Shut up," he grumbles, reaching for a fresh piece of chalk and halfheartedly filling in one of his circles with purple. "You're the artist, not me."

"Hey, I was being serious!" Will says, laughing lightly, "It's cute."

Mike presses his lips together, giving Will a scrutinizing look. "You're cute," he mumbles, which isn't quite the comeback he'd been looking for but is still, unfortunately, very true, and Will brightens, shooting him a brilliant smile.

"Hey, thanks," he replies, and leans over to steal the chalk out of his hand. "Can I draw too?" he asks Holly, who glances up from where she's drawing a mustache and goatee onto Mike's poor attempt at drawing a cat.

She looks Will up and down, weighing her options, and then nods once, shoving the box of chalk in his direction. "Don't break any," she chides.

"I won't," Will says seriously, placing a hand over his heart like he's swearing it.

Mike rolls his eyes. "You've already broken like half of it, Holly," he says, reaching for a blue piece and doodling another circle near his fish.

"That's why we can't break any more!" she says shrilly, which is a fair enough point. Mike lets it go.

Will smirks, leaning over and sketching out a few gentle lines on a blank stretch of sidewalk. "When does your mom get back?" he asks, as the lines he's sketching gradually take the shape of a much more realistic-looking fish than the one Mike had drawn.

"Like, three maybe?" Mike says with a grimace, pulling out his phone to check the time again. Tragically, it has been less than fifteen minutes since the last time he checked. "She has to do grocery shopping and then yoga, I think. I don't know, I wasn't totally listening."

Will snorts, picking up a piece of blue chalk and drawing gentle, wave-like lines around the two fishes they've drawn. "Okay," he says, chalk-dusted fingers brushing over the back of Mike's hand gently, "But you're free tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah," Mike confirms, "Why, did you want to do something?"

Will nods, filling in little white crests on each of the waves he's drawn. "Yeah. The lake, maybe? I don't know, I just want to hang out with you."

It's impressive, how easily Will is able to make Mike's entire chest fill with butterflies with a single phrase, especially such a mundane one considering how long they've been dating. He bites down a shy smile and nods as normally as he can manage, though he's pretty sure Will can sense the giddiness radiating from him anyway. "That sounds nice," he says, and then, because he can't help himself, "We are hanging out right now, though. In case you hadn't noticed."

Will rolls his eyes, lifting a chalk-covered finger and booping Mike's nose lightly, undoubtedly covering his face in green chalk dust. "I did notice," he says, jabbing his finger at him again, "But- alone, I meant. Sorry, Holly," he adds, glancing over at her apologetically, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

"Mean," she whines, and Mike rolls his eyes.

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it," he tells her, and she scowls, maintaining eye contact with him while she draws a giant red X directly over one of his earlier drawings.

Will's eyes widen. "Cold," he mutters, and holds his fist out. Holly bumps it dutifully and goes back to drawing.

His eyes flick back to Mike, and the corner of his mouth ticks up as his gaze darts over Mike's face. "You have chalk on your face," he informs him, looking like he's trying very hard not to laugh, and Mike scowls, lifting a hand and scrubbing at his face with the back of it.

"That's your fault," he grumbles, and Will makes a fake-sympathetic face as he scoots closer and bats Mike's hand away, raising a still green-tinged hand to wipe at his face. Mike lets him, leaning into his warmth, even as he says, nose wrinkled, "Listen, I can't see my face right now, but I feel like you're making it worse."

Will grimaces, and his hands tragically pull away from Mike's face as he surveys his work. "A bit, yeah," he acknowledges. "I kinda just spread it around."

"Idiot," Mike accuses, and Will grins all teeth, tilting forward slowly like he's falling into Mike's gravity before closing the rest of the distance in one swift motion and stealing another quick kiss. "Idiot," Mike says again, and leans in for another.

"Love you too," Will replies cheerily when they part again, and Mike shoots him the finger before remembering that there's a child present and quickly hiding it behind his back.

"I saw that," Holly says anyway, as she finishes whatever she's drawing and glances up at him.

"No you didn't," Mike says matter-of-factly, and Will elbows him.

"Don't gaslight her," he reprimands, and Holly points at him and nods.

"Come here," she demands, despite the fact that Mike and Will are sitting less than ten feet away from here. "I wanna show you what I made."

Mike wants to tell her to say please, or something, or at least take a slightly less bossy tone with the person who is literally in charge of her for the day, but Will is already scooting over to her, peering down at her drawing with genuine curiosity, and Mike has no choice but to follow. It's a little infuriating and all too endearing, how nice Will is to Holly, and most people in general. He makes people feel important. Mike in particular.

Holly's drawn a rainbow, Mike sees as he clambers over to sit beside Will, hooking an arm around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. There are little multicolored hearts all around it, complete with white clouds at either end, and Holly looks way too pleased with herself for someone who's basically just drawn a bunch of lines, but whatever. It's probably better than Mike could do.

"It's for you!" she chirps, grinning wide, and Will huffs a surprised laugh, hand absently coming to rest on Mike's knee. "Because rainbows."

"Aw, Mike," Will laughs, tilting his head back to look Mike in the eye, "Did you teach her that?"

"No," Mike says, squirming closer to him and grinning, "Nancy, probably. She keeps sending me all these lists of queer resources and shit."

Will hums a laugh, thumb tracing gentle circles into Mike's knee as he reaches for his phone. "This is very sweet, Holly," he says sincerely, and she blushes as he snaps a picture. "Thank you."

"You should take a picture of Mike's fish, too," she says seriously.

Mike frowns. "I thought you hated my drawings."

"Not the fish!" she says, and does not elaborate, which- yeah, sure. Mike will take what he can get.

"Here, you take it," Will says, passing Holly his phone, and she hops excitedly to her feet and shuffles over to the other end of the sidewalk to snap the photo.

Mike settles more comfortably onto Will's shoulder, enjoying the solid warmth of him even under the burning summer sun. "You know there's a twenty percent chance she's going to break your phone," he murmurs into Will's ear, still half-hugging him from behind, and Will lifts a hand to rest over Mike's where it's pressed against his side, threading their fingers together.

"She's like four feet tall," Will points out, "she can't break it any worse than I already have."

"You'd be surprised," Mike mutters darkly, and Will laughs, tilting his head to the side and pressing a soft kiss to the side of Mike's face. Mike leans into it, a smile creeping onto his face despite himself.

Holly flounces back over, dropping Will's phone unceremoniously into his lap and resuming her previous position amidst the chalk drawings. "You guys are gross," she announces, as Will presses another kiss to Mike's temple.

"You made a drawing for us, though," Mike points out.

"Doesn't mean you aren't gross," she says matter-of-factly, and Mike supposes it's kind of hard to argue with that. "You have chalk on your face, by the way."

Mike splutters something incomprehensible, and Will laughs quietly, slinging an arm around his shoulders and grinning up at him. "It's okay," he says seriously, "I like your face."

"I like your face too," Mike replies teasingly, leaning in to rest his forehead against Will's.

"Gross," Holly says again, and the sun keeps shining.

[crustyfloor]

Ways of endearment for the observers

Was there a part of you hoping you could mimic what they had?

Status: Completed

Words: 2k

Read on AO3

Read here:

Mizi and Sua were something special, among all the other kids in Anakt Garden. They were the closest to each other. Ivan hadn’t seen Sua smile more when she wasn’t near Mizi. Mizi had that kind of effect on people Ivan guessed.

“Mizi….for you.” 

Ivan observed the two from his desk nearby. In Sua’s hand was a miniature version of a flower crown and a rare look of nervousness on her face when the creation was taken by Mizi. But of course, even though it looked bad. Nothing compared to the ones Till made. Mizi still accepted it with a big smile and grabbed Sua in a tight hug to which the other girl averted his eyes and mumbled something Ivan couldn’t hear.

Till liked flower crowns. If the many hours Ivan had spent seeing Till make flower crowns with ease all the time even when they weren’t meant for anyone in particular was any proof. If he liked them so much, Ivan wondered. If he were to make one for Till instead, would Till like it the way Mizi does?

And so here he was now, carefully threading two stems together as he remembered seeing Till do it many times before, though admittedly Ivan wasn’t as good at this, the result was anything but a proper flower crown. But he still found himself proud of it, proud enough to present it to Till with a smile. 

“What’s that..?”

Till asks as he glances up from his notepad and pauses his rapid scribbling. Instead, focusing on the flower crown Ivan was holding. And not the Mizi doodle. Just Ivan. 

“It’s a flower crown,” Ivan said with a practiced chirpy tone as he placed it on Till’s head, a single flower fell onto Till’s lap. “Do you like it?” 

Till slowly took the flower crown off and gave a look when the whole thing crumpled from the impact and then snorted. 

“No. it’s bad.” 

“Oh.” Ivan breathed. Well, he knew that already. So it didn’t hurt when Till said it, but maybe a part of him was expecting Till to put on a smile anyway and be happy about it, but alas he wasn’t like Mizi in that sense. 

There was silence a long stretch of silence between the two, awkward as Till averted his eyes and huffed, grabbing the bundle of flowers with bent stems. 

“Sit down…. I’ll teach you how to make a better one” Till replied curtly, snapping Ivan out of his thoughts and he immediately took a seat next to Till as he began explaining how to properly tie the stems together. 

‘Well….This is good enough too.’

————

Till was beside him, still visibly seething after taking a thorough scolding from their teacher for drawing during class. 

This didn’t stop Ivan from trying to tease Till about it when they took their seats at lunch, which caused him to get a thorough verbal beating from Till…. so it was apparent Till was too busy to talk. 

That left Ivan with nobody to talk to but two eyes to look around and entertain himself by watching his peers. Mostly everyone was minding their business and eating if not talking to the person beside them. Ivan’s eyes were easily drawn to the vibrant pink hair that stuck out among the crowd first. A few tables away Mizi and Sua were sitting together as they always were. Seemingly in their own world as Mizi was happily talking, facing Sua who was more focused on the braid she was making with the thick strand of Mizi’s hair than what Mizi was saying but still nodded and replied things Ivan couldn’t hear now and then. 

Ivan averted his eyes away from the girls and back to Till who had looked to calm down, distractedly stabbing the small pile of white rice on his tray with his spoon. Ivan’s mind went to a time when Till had mumbled something along the lines of “Would she touch my hair too if I grew it longer…” and when Ivan popped up behind him and asked what he said Till jumped in place and proceeded to shout at Ivan. 

Ivan had read in one of those cheesy romance books that he happened to pick up one day and put back the next, a girl was getting her hair braided by a guy she had a crush on. She described her feelings as “butterflies.” It sounded silly to Ivan, but he wondered. Was that what Mizi felt when Sua touched her hair? Would Till get that same fluttery feeling if it was Ivan doing it to him instead? 

It was now later in the day. The sky was a bright orange and curfew creeping around the corner Ivan had gotten bored of making faces at the sky so he sought out Till as he always did. And he wasn’t hard to find. Ivan, as expected found Till already lying by the tree asleep. Till had a weird knack for sleeping everywhere but his bed and Ivan had half a mind to throw something at him to wake him up but decided against it when his eyes caught on the sight of Till’s usual untamed, wild grey hair, and then his mind wandered back. Till’s hair wasn’t quite long anymore so it would be difficult to make a solid braid but it didn’t stop Ivan from slowly settling down beside the boy and grabbing at a few strands.

Till’s hair was rougher than it should be. 

Well, to be expected Ivan guessed. If he couldn’t help to go a day without causing his uniform to rip and stain then why would he bother keeping up with his hair? Thats okay. 

And so for the next few minutes, Ivan meticulously ran his hand through till hair, meticulously taking out and tearing at every knot until he was unable to catch on anything else. 

It looked softer now and Ivan couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for his work. It was only when Till started to shift did he realized he was waking up and removed his hands. Looking innocent when till woke up, at the weird dull throbbing in his scalp he cast Ivan a suspicious glance. 

————

Ivan had expected Mizi to be the first one to go. But in a less than surprising turn of events Sua had been the one to fall to the floor, surrounded in a pool of her blood. Ivan watched as Mizi’s stiff body had to be dragged away from Sua after not responding to her name for the third time. Ivan felt a little sympathy for her. He remembered her being so excited only a few hours ago, hugging Sua tightly after assuring her that they would show the aliens ‘the best duo they’ve ever seen’ and that they could make it out together. All they needed to do was be themselves. That mizi loved her and she believed in them. All that positivity amounted to nothing at the end of the day. It’s such cruelty that she had to have her bubble popped in such a horrific way. Wouldn’t it have been better for Sua to spare that innocence such a rude awakening?

It put a knot in Ivan’s stomach.

Through the side of his eye, he looked to Till who was a few pods down staring down at the scene with widened eyes, Similarly, the reality was dawning on Till too. Just where the hell they were right now. What they were fighting for. 

Minutes after Mizi was taken off the stage cleaning crew came in. For the few minutes to an hour cleaning crew would spend ridding the pristine white stage of crimson red the participants were allowed back into the building for a breather. He, Mizi, and Till were all gathered into a room, two heavy doors weighed down by heavier iron kept them inside, a precaution for those who may decide to try their luck at escaping. 

The silence was profound as everyone stood in separate areas of the room, taking in what they had just seen. And for once, Till wasn’t even looking Mizi’s way as he was seemingly lost in his head thinking.

Mizi, on the other hand. She was well, not okay. At all. It didn’t take a genius to know why. She had a distant look in her shocked eyes as she touched the long-since-dried blood splatter on her cheek with a gloved hand. 

After a minute, an alien came in and pulled Mizi out taking her somewhere else and leaving only him and a still stunned Till. Huh. He and Sua weren’t even close, so why was he acting like this? Perhaps now would be a good time to say something. The cleaning crew wasn’t going to take forever, and Till still had his round to win. So Ivan did that. 

“Till.” No response came when he approached the boy’s side. 

“Till.”

“Till?-“ 

“Ivan.” 

The sound of his name from Till’s mouth sent a shiver down his spine, he hadn’t heard that in a while. But he didn’t stay that way for too long as he settled down on the floor next to Till.

Don’t let it get to your head. 

“Sua’s dead.. They killed her…” Till breathed out, pulling his knees close to his chest. 

“I…I mean…shit, I don’t know. That is what this is about but, she and Mizi were doing so well…the plan looked like it was working..” 

“It was always just meant to be a shallow hope.” was what Ivan wanted to say. But that wouldn’t be helpful. And Till was still talking, to himself at this point. He wasn’t addressing Ivan but also simultaneously using him as a brain dump.

Till then seemed to have realized he was rambling and shut his mouth after a while. Awkwardly averting his eyes from Ivan’s direction. Well, to be expected but at least Till hadn’t moved away yet. Looking at him, it was clear he was still on edge. when Ivan thought up some small words of comfort they didn’t come to light on his tongue, it didn’t feel right. It probably wouldn’t be of any use anyway considering it would only work if it was genuine. So instead, without much thought he extended a hand and brushed it over Till’s shoulder in a brief show of hesitancy before giving in and grabbing Till’s shoulder in a firm grip. Ivan hoped Till knew what he was trying to say with that when they locked eyes for a second and Till wordlessly eased into the touch. 

—————

Ivan felt like he was burning

Despite the bone-chilling drops of artificial rain pouring down on him, suffocating him the same way he was suffocating Till now. Just barely. Because no matter how much he willed himself. His grip never got tighter. He didn’t know why. But it didn’t matter, he just needed to make it look convincing. 

And it seems it was working. 

Thump. 

Till was like a dead weight in his hands. Ivan wanted him to move, to keep trying to pry him off, anything. He was trying to find Till. Instead, he was looking straight at a hollow body that was supposed to hold a person but was more like what he always was, a beaten-down boy with nothing left to lose and nothing left to live for. It was like he was already dead in Ivan’s hands. Ivan didn’t know how to feel. 

‘Do you want to leave me that badly? Of course, you do. It’s not me you care about leaving, after all.’ 

Thump. 

Ivan wished he had the heart to give Till what he wanted, but he was selfish. Unworthy of Till’s grace, his attention, even in his last moments. Ivan was nothing compared to Mizi anyway. He would never have the place he desperately tried to claim in Till’s heart for years. He was okay with that. 

‘….’

Was this how Sua felt? When Mizi was singing her heart out thinking that together, they were stronger than the chains holding them down. Whilst she was always too aware of the weight that would inevitably crush them and their spirits? 

Ivan would’ve laughed if not for the stinging in his side preventing him from even retaining the hold he had on Till. To think he was once disgusted at Sua for doing what she did. Painfully etching her memory in Mizi’s mind the way she did. And then turning around and doing the same for the man who wouldn’t even glance his way, even now. Ivan wondered what Till would think if he did.

He was a hypocrite. 

He could accept that. 

But at least, Ivan was better than Sua. Ivan would only be a fleeting memory to Till. And what was Ivan if not a hopeless follower if he was content with that? It was more than he deserved for the person he was.

Thump. 

For these shallow emotions that never mattered, Ivan would die and Till would survive to the end of this, maybe even find Mizi again. Maybe escape Alien stage. Hopefully, live a life worth living like he dreamed of when they were kids.

Ivan’s vision started to blur as an indescribable weight burdened his eyelids. A stinging in his throat and the feel of burning liquid running down his chin sealed his fate as his shaking hands separated from Till’s neck, instantly the other eyes shot open, and then—

…

‘Oh. You’re looking at me.’

[1v31182m5]

Ooh, you have a Wish rewrite/alternate story in mind? You open to sharing anything about it?

Ohh boy jcudbfjd yes! These were my ideas before the movie came out. I don't know if anyone will read it it's long but oh well writing them down makes me think more clear

Magnifico:

So the concept of him experiencing with colonizers is still there expect it happened BEFORE he was born. İn an old kingdom. Only the aristocrats could survive it and they came to where Rosas is in right now for safe place. Expect in their time the survivers were much silent? Like there was nothing to celebrate for nothing to smile about, they just ran away from a genocide caused by horrible magic.

And because all the survivors were aristocrats they didn't had any peasents to boss around, their status meant nothing right now since the left alone people are now equal. They didn't even had a proper leader, which is where Magnifico comes along. He pulls them together, becomes king, brings laws, builds houses, Medical care camps, schools, draws the lines of the kingdom, literally makes it a whole country born by it's ashes.

As much I don't like to bring up the film we can see that kid Magnifico is floating on the picture. He had magic back them but we never got explained how? So I came up with the idea that Magnifico's parents were one of the top duke and duchesses who made a wish upon a star for the best kid they could ever have. Which lead to the child getting the best ever genes it could possibly grab from generations behind. The healthiest, handsomest, most magical coming from the ancestor's stardust's.

He was the best thing that ever happened to the people of survivers, he could bring them stuff, stuff they wished to have.

Magnifico was like the Messiah. They adored him, he was their everything. He was spoiled by the whole aristocrats of course, he's a wonder kid.

He and his parents also look different in my headcanon, this is how I imagined them to look like before what the film gave us with 3 😐😐😐 heads. İgnore the art quality I just wanted to point out how I just imagine them to look like, it's a doodle I scribbled on phone

A tip to tell the difference between my version and Disney's is,Magnifico is a natural white hair in mine along with his parents. Also is actually tan like in the concept arts. Amaya also has actual brown skin, like in the concept arts.

And before you ask no no other aristocrat could wish upon a star, only they could, this is why Magnifico is so important to them. He does what the stars couldn't automatically.

His parents died of an old age, at the same time, expect they tried their best with every single kind of potion and chemicals to keep them alive because they were scared of if Magnifico is their wish, would he be gone if they be gone? They stayed alive for about 120 years which is almost the limit of the human body, gladly enough he didn't died when they did. They wished for their kid to be the best for everyone, not just for them.

They looked like zombies when they died, it really hurted everyone to see them that way.

And for the million dollar headcanon

Trumpets

Drum drum drum

✨Amaya is a Wish✨

Magnifico wished upon a star the day his parents died just like Asha on the tree at the end of the cliff. His parents died and got buried at 6AM he made the wish at the end of the day, 11PM. Magnifico had to deal with so many things for the whole day now thay they were offically gone, they didn't even let him rest even if they wanted :(( he was exhausted at the end of the day when he was finally alone, and even though he knew that this was a forgotten miracle that only happened one time in the history, he wished upon a star,

Saying that he wanted someone here for him, to bring the best of him, whatever he could imagine and could not, ..and it came true!!!

He was in ultimate shock to see Amaya. Now unlike in other cartoons when they have a "perfect" partner it usually goes so smoothly like ohh they're obsessed with them and so clingly. Okay no that didn't happened, yes Amaya is the perfect woman for Magnifico and Magnifico is the perfect match for Amaya but she is still a human?? not just some customized girlfriend. Like why would she still stay there if he treated her like garbage?

Amaya was a human who could be the perfect wished person for Magnifico if he played his cards right and actually worked on their realationship, so it's not instant love. I hate the instantly in love without a thought tropes. They have a slow burn.

Asha:

She did got accepted as the King's apprentice.

And for the Queen's. They make her do works like Cindirella and they mutually annoy eachother time to time. The queen is slightly mean too for the funsies. They 3 got a we may be sometimes mean to eachother but Asha would ask for realationship advice to us type of realationship.

Charo is still there, their cat. Which Asha had enough of. (They make her clean after him a lot, spoiled cat 😼)

The Star boy is a boy, like in the concepts and exists. Expect I thought he would be more of a 15 year old than looking like a 20 year old to get more of his childish personality.

He's not useless like in the movie where the only helpful thing he did was opening the elevator's door and nothing else other than being Asha's new pet.

He can do magic, so does Asha. This is what gets on Magnficio's nerves. He doesn't knows about the Star boy's existence but later he finds out. He'll need to accept them both

🔥Valentione nevers speaks🔥

He was so cute as a goat who could only talk in goat language, you don't need his "low voice"

[zarvasace]

1931 Vampire AU!

For those unaware, I wrote a bit of a neat Linked Universe setting AU last year that I haven't done much with, but I really like it and want to share a bit more about it! Links to the existing fics where relevant.

The series on AO3 is here!

(It would also be fun to develop this AU a little more, and I'd like to draw some stuff for it, so if you send in an ask about it, I might answer with a doodle. ;) )

AU basics: a hidden magic world in America, the year 1931 after WWI. None of the boys are human (except Twilight, at least at first), but they all think they're hiding magic from everyone else, at least for a time. :) There are a lot of magical peoples in this world, organized in their own ways, e.g. merfolk kingdoms, fae courts, the vampire councils, entire hidden cults, and hunter organizations. Ganon exists, but he's a hidden threat that they've all faced in one way or another.

Character summaries!

Wind: the focus of this AU. (The original fic was an excuse to make him very cool.) He was born 1696 in Florida ish, at the height of the golden age of piracy. He was turned into a vampire by Tetra in about 1710 and is eternally physically 14. He sailed with her crew (all pirates) for a few decades. She was invited to the western vampire council in Spain in 1750 as the vampire pirate queen, but... stuff went down. (fic: Body and Soul Marooned) She and her whole crew died, along with a lot of vampires. Wind survived, getting a nice angsty scene in there where they said wedding vows as she died, and went on to try and warn other councils about the upcoming massacres. Because most vampires died during that time, Wind is one of the oldest vampires still alive, and most who survived that time owe their lives to him.

Warriors: the secondary focus of this AU. He was a legitimate soldier during WWI, proper age and everything. When Wind enlisted, Wars took it upon himself to guide this seemingly young kid, and got killed doing so. Wind turned him into a vampire, not wanting him to die. (fic: In the Chill of Battle) He has a fun relationship with Wind, both of them taking the big-brother role in turns. Wars is a younger vampire, but his brain and body was able to mature more, so. Before Wars knew Wind, he was also captain of a division with Time, not that Time remembers that right off. Wars acts the responsible adult, so he gets them both hired as part of Time's team.

Time: he's Twilight and Wild's uncle. When he was a kid, he was whisked away to Faerie and replaced by a changeling for a few years. He fought his way back to find that time had passed differently for him, so he's mentally older than he appears. He didn't get out without being touched by the fae, and is beholden to some of their rules. He's the only one old enough to have enlisted in the military at a legal age, and used his status as a veteran to get a job at a local police station as a sort of detective. That's how he collects all the boys. :)

Wild: half-vampire. He's aging slowly, but still aging. He's close to Twilight, but always felt like he didn't exactly belong. Vampires as an organization don't believe there are many dhampirs out there, and don't like them, but a few underground cells have been organizing. Wild had a few run-ins with them. He's aware of a lot more magic than people think he is, having networked out to several kinds of magical peoples. The Yiga are a cult of shapeshifters that are out for his blood. (fic: Caged) He joined the team when the existing members came to save him and Twilight from them, later in the "story." Wild is one of those in the group willing to do Mad Science. :)

Twilight: is human. He dealt with Wild his whole life, so he's aware of vampires, but not much else. Over the course of the "story," he gets turned into a werewolf, so all of the boys get to deal with that.

Sky: he's a lynchpin of the team! Without Sky, not everyone would be there. He's an air elemental by birth, fairly important in those familial circles but mostly separated from them these days. His natural form is not exactly... physical. He knows Time from the war (he enlisted at too young an age near the end, and didn't see much combat, but made connections), Legend from some of what Legend did (aka everything, but specifically some merchant connections in this case), and found Four on his own. Sky doesn't count as fae at all, but he's in-tune with the environment and flow of magic around him. (He's not happy about the dust bowl.) He is pretty oblivious to the others being magical, though.

Four: he's rather disconnected from the others, in terms of backstory. To understand him, you have to know that there are six courts of the fae: one for each season in the wheel, with a light and a dark in the center and outside. Four grew up in the Light Court, full fae. One of the princess's Minish advisors betrayed the Light Court and gave power to the Dark (hi Vaati), and Four helped to restore balance. In the process, he had to change. The courts didnt generally trust each other, so Four split into four fae with the help of magic, one for each seasonal court. More magic and betrayal happened, and Four is semi-stuck as a Dark fae now. He can become a shadow and hide in other shadows, but he's vulnerable to light in general. When he left Faerie for the mortal world, he found Sky, who pretty much adopted him as a little brother. He's very protective of Sky.

Legend: is a prince of one of the merfolk kingdoms. He saved each of the underwater kingdoms at least once, then ventured to the surface to find more wrongs that needed righting. He isn't obvious about it, but he has a good heart. He's kind of sort of employed as a spy and informant, but he focuses on supernatural issues. He's more of a special ops agent than anything, though he does like to find people who'll pay him for doing what he wants to do anyway. He's been practically everywhere and done practically everything. He definitely heard of Wind, but didn't connect the dots right off. Merfolk aren't considered fae, but his particular family line made contracts with fae long ago, and he has some of their geases in a lightened form. He figured out pretty quickly that everyone was magic and trying to hide it.

Hyrule: is full fae, like Four, but of the Spring Court. He lived in the human world his whole life, a street kid who had to keep his fae nature tightly under wraps, which could get difficult around the promises and names and iron of daily life. He moved around a lot. He was captured for a year or two by unscrupulous scientists and rescued by Legend, who took him to Sky and Time. (fic: EPISODE SEVEN: Lost and Found) He's the resident healer and mad scientist.

Other Fics

More Than You Can Chew: the beginning of the "story." Starts with Wars confessing he's a vampire, and then they go rescue Wind, who's been captured by wannabe hunters.

Council: sort-of ongoing fic about Wind taking the rest of the Chain to the latest vampire council meeting. >:)

[abouttofillhisshoes]

🌹🎒for mpind matty

-b / haveyouseenherlately :)

(rose) What does your character find attractive in other people?

both you and matty are very similar, so i reckon he does search for himself in other people. Outgoing, risqué, fun, and definitely more on the extroverted side. Emotional intelligence is something Matty values in a partner, communication being a huge factor for him especially with the kinks the two of you engage in. You're his first proper relationship, and he's yours (apart from phillip, but we don't talk about phillip.), so it's a lot of exploration and both of you make tons of mistakes along the way. Of course, you kiss and make up, the inability to stay mad at each other working in your favor xx mpind girlie is very grungy, think ripped tights and oversized thrift store sweaters (before it was cool), baggy jeans and tight, mesh tops. Matty loves how you dress, mirroring your outfits most of the time, the two of you sharing almost all of your wardrobe. It's part of the reason why he's attracted to you, which might sound a bit vain but its just the way he is.

(backpack) What items does your character usually carry? Do they have a bag?

Matty is chronically under packed for quite literally anything. You're the complete opposite, your seemingly bottomless pit of a purse housing everything from makeup to a spare shirt, endless lighters, crumpled up packets of cigarettes, rolling papers, a book (?), Matty's cd's (metallica, weirdly enough), an untouched packet of cigarettes, hair clips, and even a small travel sized bottle of lube Matty had managed to sneak into the internal pocket Eventually, he does get himself a bag, specifically a massive green GG&L purse with all the buckles and chains you could ever dream of. He loves that bag with all his heart, attaching even more accessories to it and filling it with useless stuff he shouldnt actually need, but still brings with him. That includes not one but two mp3 players, a small box full of rings that are either too big or too small (for "good luck"), tampons (the one thing thats actually saved your life, thanks matty xx), a full sized palette of eyeshadow (literally 24 shades, and for what??? he only really wears blueish-purple shades anyway, making most of it useless), and about six thousand markers to draw on every available surface in the city, despite your protests. He likes to mindlessly doodle on benches and lamp posts whenever you stop somewhere, ignoring the fact that he's vandalising public property (you can only really giggle at the cocks he draws across the metal railing of a park bench, adding detailed ball hairs as he cheekily looks up to see your reaction, cracking a proud smile)

[pastelwhile-art]

it'd absolutely make my day too some makokuu from you (i loved that illustration of them im insane about them)

what about some domestic makokuu 👀 them spending time together at home :3 no pressure ofc

Help I know I asked for saiki k requests TWO months ago and I had a really fun idea for an illustration, but my brain is a smooth cube. so that idea stays up in the air.

For now take a really quick silly crack doodle about one of the many possibilities I think Kusuke/Makoto telling Saiki/Teruhashi would go. Spoiler alert: it’s hilariously horrible.

(Saiki thinks they’re messing with them and Teruhashi is seething. Are they pranking them? Who knows.)

And ya know what? Beneath the cut take my redesigns of these guys and my notes for them because I made several months ago ‘cause I haven’t touched them since :(

Warning: I talk a lot.

A quick note! These designs aren’t meant to say ‘fix’ the original-they’re just for fun! Even if I think elements of mine look better, clearly the original works and are well loved. Also I’m not especially fond of these anyways JAJSJANW

Saiki doesn’t change much other than his palette is a more balanced. Also I really like designing hair, and wanted the idea that Saiki really tries to sleek it down to something very generic and unassuming, but the hairpins get stuck in the way and his hair sorta moves outwards from there. Continuing the idea that his powers make him subtly less normal. It also accidentally made him look A LOT more like his parents, oops.

Also I drew a comparison from his canon hair to his redesign, because I didn’t think it was particularly clear until side by side.

Also I actually gave this one a proper illustration lol.

Teruhashi’s design was actually partly inspired by @lu-kario’s human mlp designs because they’re really good :^ She’s also pretty standard except her hair and color (which I’m not too satisfied with.)

I like the idea of the Teruhashi Siblings being a bit supernatural, so along with weird shine effects, they also get constant wind effects! Like in all the anime where they have flowing hair at just the right times even though it wasn’t windy at all before? Yeah! Except that’s more Makoto’s thing while the shine stays Kokomi’s.

Also what ethnicity are these characters now? To me they’re still Japanese, but I think people don’t ever use a range of skin tones for the same ethnicity. But really these are just fun designs I didn’t really think too hard.

Kusuke! He was the first one I did and an absolute PAIN. He was also the reason I did this, because as much as I love Saiki K and respect the author, I just got to know what is going on with his debut clothes.

Well not like I did that much better… Kusuke is stuck with four alt palettes because I can’t decide which shade of weird yellow and purple to make his head and gown (I’ve resolved to draw his hair a different shade of yellow in every drawing.) His eyes also match Saiki with purple eyes, because I think they look better lmao.

Also, that’s his Cambridge gown he’s wearing. And fun fact-they have a great amount of rules on what color does gowns get an accent of based off what subject people are taking! I decided to not think too hard on that and just gave him a better looking gown.

And I really like the hair I gave him, the original to me just lacks a bit of anime shape style. Also his headgear is shaped like a graduation hat now lol.

He also has a silly little doodle for what he’d look like with his lab coat. It’s not here, but I like to think he always puts a ponytail up!

Last and also least xp, Makoto! He’s uhh about the same with the points I said with Teruhashi. Just very angular now. I swear I tried to design a better fashion for Makoto but I just ended up with the same.

I tried to style his hair how Japanese celebrities would, but I don’t know if I succeeded. His hair as I said is constantly blowing to the left lol. Also he has a hair clip now! In my head Kusuke gives him a telepathy canceller disguised as a hairclip.

Also anyone can draw or get inspired by these designs if you wanted lol Though I don’t really like these, I still use these hairstyle for drawing them cause I think they look cool lol.

[paytato435]

“I don’t care, I haven’t snuck out like this in weeks!” Donnie answered before turning and flipping dramatically into the shadows. He scuttled along the wall like a bug until he could peak around the next corner. Tim just casually walked along behind him.

Chapter art for Chapter 10 of Snapper and Stinkpot, THE BUG.

Timothy belongs to @/PineTreeVillain (I linked him on the actual fanfic chapter, not sure what the proper etiquette here is, lol)

Also fun fact, the reference art I used to draw Tim had him with a chain hanging from his jeans, but I literally drew Angel with a chain on hers last week so I switched it up and gave him a little keychain instead. His keyfob is the same as my car. Would Tim drive a Miata? I don't fucking know. Gave him a Septic Sam too to match the t-shirt (of himself?) he wears, hee hee.

Y’all it took 10 chapters but we are here! The plot is plotting, the art is arting, I am so happy with what I have putting out on this silly blog for the last two months, it’s been fucking crazy. I’ve never done fan art or written anything this substantial ever, it is so creatively fulfilling and I just want to thank everyone who likes and reblogs these posts because y’all have no idea how fucking excited I get when I get feedback on it. I’ve never been more happy in my life, no fucking lie. Thank you so so much, but especially to @lizardlover67 , @entspiderty , @spl00n , @theosb0rnway , @allyheart707 and @caaaaaww for being so supportive in my art journey.

Gonna blab about the art now for a moment because I want to! I cannot believe it took me this long to post art about Donatello. He is the 10/10 the best turtle, and all I have to show my love is a handful of stupid doodles from over a week ago. It's probably a crime, honestly. I need to draw him more; him and Raph, their heads just give me so much trouble idk what it is, but I haven't figured them out yet. I have more trouble drawing Donnie than I did Tim and this is literally the second time I've drawn Tim (and the first was just a dumbass doodle I never posted lmao.) I have a bunch of alternate art that I had drafted up for this that will come out later this week, as well as a draft comic I never posted where April was breaking into the school with Donnie instead. And... I'm sure I've probably said enough now. It's late, and I gotta write chapter twelve or something, idk (this is a scheduled post).

I love it here, hope y’all have a wonderful day. 🥹

[coffeedrawingandwriting]

Some Wounds Need Stitching

A oneshot I wrote for @calcium-cat's OSDecember prompts!!! Based on Extra Prompt "Duck(s)" It's not just about ducks though- maybe I should've used a different prompt

Apologies if it’s not like the OSD story, I did my best 😅

Also posted on my ao3, writefromtheheartandsoul!! I hope you all enjoy! __________________________________________________ "Alright Dream, got your colors picked out?" Dust peered over Dream's shoulder, adjusting his glasses.

"Yeah!" Dream held up the felt he had picked out from Horror's stash; yellow, orange, and black.

"That's it?" Dust looked skeptical. 

"Horror didn't have any pink, otherwise I'd have pink legs..." Dream pouted for a moment. Horror rumbled in laughter beside him, placing a fresh stick of glue into the hot glue gun. 

"Sorry," he patted Dream's skull, grinning a bit to himself. 

Dream wiggled in his chair, swinging his legs as he surveyed his choices again. The table the three were sitting at was covered in craft supplies, ranging from felt pieces, thread, pincushions, tubes of glitter, and glue. 

A lot of glue. 

"Are you gonna let him sew it up?" Dust asked over Dream's head. Horror hesitated, looking at Dream. 

"I mean.. if he wants to." 

The small skeleton perked up, realizing the conversation had been directed back to him. 

"Yeah!!! I want to try sewing!" Horror nodded. 

"You too Dust?" Dust shrugged. 

"Why not?" Horror beamed, pulling over a little fabric book, opening it to reveal several sewing needles. He allowed the two to select their choices, making sure they chose proper sizes for their projects. 

"Alright Dream, now what you want to do is trace a basic outline of what shape you want your ornament to look like. I'm going to go get the stuffing real quick." Horror handed Dream a sharpie, scratching around his skull cavity as he shambled off. 

Dream giggled to himself as he popped off the cap, sticking out his tongue as he began to draw on the felt. 

Dust started to do the same, except on light grey felt. He made sure to keep an eye on Dream to make sure he didn't start doodling on himself. Who knew what was in those pens?

 It only took a few minutes for Horror to return, a large bag of stuff tossed over his shoulder. His eyelight surveyed Dream's progress, casting a faint red glow over the table. 

"Looks good, let's cut it out." His hands guided Dream's as the little one cut along the black lines, then taking the cutout and placing it alongside another piece of felt. Horror decided to cut that one, while Dream traced triangles on orange felt, then a wing-like piece on yellow again. 

Horror grinned, looking at the laid out pieces.

"Alright, time to get sewing!" 

Dream watched attentively as Horror threaded the needle, showing Dream how to stitch the fabric together properly, to hold the most amount of stuffing. 

Together, the three got to work, Horror offering commentary as he dusted the inside of clear ornaments with glitter, managing to do patterns within the ornament.

Dust swore for a moment, shaking his head, glaring as a bit of dust fell.  

Soon, red, silver, and gold ornaments were laid out neatly on the table, and Dust was finishing his own ornament, picking out the color ribbon he wanted to sew to the fabric. 

Dream giggled to himself, stuffing the cotton mixture into his own ornament. When he was done, he finishing sewing up the fabric, then attached the triangle and wings to the main body of his ornament. 

With a exclamation of glee, he held up his ornament, presenting his creation. 

The two stifled chuckles as they gazed upon the duck, a black circle of fabric serving as its eye. 

"Well, what do you think, Dream?" Horror asked, taking the ornament to attach a loop of ribbon. 

"I love it!!!" Dream exclaimed, hands hitting and tapping the table in excitement. 

"And with little injury too," Dust commented, glaring at his own pricked phalanges. 

"Did you want a bandaid?" Dream asked, peering at the small divots.

"Nah, I'm fine." Dust held up his own ornament. It was a long bone, with a red ribbon in the middle. "Here's mine." 

"Wow!!!" Dream's eyelights morphed into stars for a brief moment. Dust chuckled, reaching over to rub Dream's skull, ignoring the little skeleton's protest. 

"Whatcha doing?" Killer morphed into view, conveniently located on Horror's shoulders, Horror grunted under the added weight. 

"Making ornaments!" Dream presented the cluttered table. 

"Ooooooo, those glass ornaments look mighty fragile, Horror," Killer leaned forward. Horror grunted again, using a hand to grab the back of Killer's jacket, yanking him back. 

"You break them and you're cleaning it up, not us," he warned. Killer huffed. 

"Where have you been?" Dust asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I've been making these bad boys!" Killer held up what appeared to be one of those generic plastic frogs, a (hopefully) fake missiles tied to the top of it with string. 

"... That is not what I think it is," Dust groaned. Killer cackled. 

"You mean those, and yes, they're missile toads!!!" Horror looked up, squinting. 

"What do you do with them?" 

"You hang them up like mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you get into a fight!" 

"And you think Midnight wouldn't immediately tear these down?" 

"Not if he never finds them!" Killer grinned, stuffing the missile toads into his coat pockets. 

He leaned over again, pulling out a knife to twirl nonchalantly. 

Dust gave him a warning look, but didn't say anything, watching as Dream used a dark yellow frabric pen to trace his ornament, hiding any visible black marks from the sewing process. 

In the relative quiet, none even noticed when Cross walked in. 

Cross raised a bone brow, walking over to see what they were doing. 

"What are you-" 

Disaster ensued- Horror started, his fight-or-flight reflex activated; Dust jumped, falling backwards in his chair; Dream twisted to look at Cross, and Killer lost his balance, dropping his knife, and grabbing onto Horror's skull. 

Cross's hand grabbed Dream's shirt and pulled him back as the knife plunged into the table- right into the middle of the duck. 

There was dead silence. 

"Dream- I'm so sorry-" Killer hopped down from Horror's shoulders, trying to see the damage. "Oh no..." 

Cross let go of Dream, breathing heavily, the small skeleton darting forward. 

"Ohh..." Dream's voice wobbled, a sniffle breaking free. 

"Oh, don't cry," Cross patted his shoulder. "I'm sure it can be fixed!" 

The words of comfort didn't seem to help, Dream's face only falling more as tears began to streak down his cheekbones. The others only began to become more frantic in their attempts to soothe Dream, fear of who would come down to see what unlucky skeleton had made Dream cry. 

"Enough!" Horror thumped his fist on the table, silencing the others. He had not participated int heir comfort, the giant of the group taking a moment to regroup. 

"Everyone out! Except for Dream. Killer, take your knife, and take the ornaments out to the tree. Cross, help him." Killer, looking rather cowed, snapped his fingers, blue surrounding the ornaments and carting them out of the room, Cross watching to make sure none would fall. 

As they walked out (each casting an either pitying or guilty look at Dream), Horror picked up the stuffed duck. 

"Hmmm...." He tutted for a moment. "Dream? Are you hurt at all?" 

Dream sniffed, rubbing his eye sockets. "No.....?" 

"Are you okay?" 

"N-no...." A soft whimper came from the babybone, Dream starting to curl into himself. Horror sighed softly. 

"Come with me. We can save your duck, but we have to be quick." 

Dream paused to look at the duck, then nodded, reaching for Horror's hand. Horror's eye softened, his hand engulfing Dream's as he took Dream to what he called his "crafting closet". 

"We need to find a patch for your duck, since stitching it isn't quite an option..." he muttered to himself. 

Dream wiped another stray tear. "H-huh?"

"What color do you think your duck would like?" Dream swallowed a hiccup, looking at the colors of fabric Horror had. 

"B-blue and green," he mumbled. Horror reached and pulled out two sheets, handing them to Dream. He opted this time to carry Dream back, placing him on the table instead of the chair. 

"Alright Dream, here's what we're going to do." 

He swiftly cut up the fabric, using the hot glue gun to create a small blue heart, a smaller green heart in the middle. 

Dream's sniffles began to die, quavering eye lights beginning to regard Horror's work with interest. 

"There we are, we just need to stitch these on both sides." Dream took the two hearts, one for either side of the duck. 

"Why can't we sew it together?" 

"Cause that means it won't heal properly," Horror explained. 

"Why?"

"Some wounds can be healed as simply as that, but some require a bit more care." Horror grabbed a needle, threading blue thread through the eye. 

"Oh..." Dream watched, his hands clasping on his lap.

"Mhmm... people are like that too. Sometimes, all it takes is a bandaid. Other times, we need to stitch it up. It may not look pretty in the beginning, and it might leave a scar, but all we can do it make the best of it." 

"Like your skull?" 

Horror smiled. "Just like my skull. Got to make the best of things." Dream studied his hands for a moment. 

"What hurts people?" 

Horror looked up, pausing for a moment. "Well, sometimes people get hurt in fights.. with things like knives... more often, it's words that hurt us the most. Or actions that don't leave physical wounds." 

"Phy- physi- what?" 

Horror pointed to his skull. "Wounds like this." 

"Oh... how do words hurt?" 

"If they're untrue or true, if the person saying them is trying to be especially rude." 

"Why would someone do that?" 

"I wish I could tell you the answer to that, kiddo." Horror finishing the one side, flipping the duck over. 

"And act-shuns?"

"Actions, and like if... er, I left without saying goodbye."' Dream gasped, looking at Horror. 

"You wouldn't do that, w-would you?" Horror snorted, nudging Dream. 

"Nope, you're never getting rid of me." Dream giggled. Horror held out the ornament, two blue and green hearts covering the tears in the fabric. 

Dream took it gently, cradling it in his hands. "... Horror?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Did Midnight get hurt by words or... actions?" 

Horror paused, thinking, a hand tugging at his skull cavity. "Long ago... but he's healing... Slowly, but he's healing. That's what he has us for." 

Dream nodded, puzzling it over. Horror huffed, flicking Dream's skull gently. 

"Don't worry about it, go hang up your ornament. Make sure Killer and Cross apologize to you." Dream giggled and slipped down from the table, running off into the halls of the castle.

Bones pattered through cobblestone corridors, down a flight of stairs, hanging a right. It didn't take long to find the living room, Killer and Cross bickering over what seemed to be the layout of ornaments on the tree. Both silenced as Dream ran in, once again holding up the ornament. 

"Look!!! Horror fixed it!" 

The two skeletons sighed in apparent relief, Cross rubbing his skull, purple glowing on his cheekbones. 

"About that, sorry about startling the two of you..." Killer guffawed, slapping Cross's back. 

"No harm done, besides, you didn't scare me-"

"AHEM" Dust cleared his throat from a chair, glaring at Killer. 

"Oh, yeah, what I meant was sorry for sticking your duck, Dream..." The second in command got on a knee, holding out his arms. "Hug it out?" 

Dream giggled, moving forward to hug Killer, the older skeleton squeezing him back in response. 

"Alright, do you want to hang up your ornament now?" Cross asked. 

"Ornaments?" Dream turned to see Nightmare walk in, holding a cup of tea in one hand, looking tired. 

"Midnight!! Look what I made!" Dream ran forward, handing him the duck. 

"Oh, you made something." Midnight turned it over, looking it over. "Looks good. But why the heart?" 

"He had an accident, but Horror helped!" 

Nightmare arched a bone brow. "Is that so?" He looked suspiciously at Killer, already coming to conclusions. "Killer?" 

"Y-yes Boss?" 

"If I find another one of your missile toads, I will personally strap a missile to you and send you off this mortal plain."

Killer sweated, red beads of sweat appearing. "Y-yes Boss." Nightmare nodded in satisfaction, turning his attention back to Dream.

"Do you know where you're gonna put it yet?"

Dream turned to look at the tree. "Hmmm... the middle!"

Nightmare shrugged. "Alright." A tentacle swarmed to hook the ornament, finding an open spot in the middle. Dream clapped his hands, gleefully dancing in place.

Horror walked in, a box in his arms. "Hey Cross, Killer, I got yours... I also made one for you, Boss," he looked at Nightmare "if that's alright.

The goopy skeleton frowned. "What did you make?"

Horror's smile sharpened, reaching in to pull out an octopus, black with a single teal eyelight. Dream burst into shrill giggles, clapping hands over his mouth as the rest of the gang snickered openly.

Nightmare sighed. "Fine, you can put it up." Killer giggled even louder.

Horror walked over to place the ornament on the tree. Reaching back in, he pull out a knife ornament, and a black cow ornament with a big white 'X' on its back. Cross groaned, slumping.

"Really, Horror?"

"You should've participated."

"Killer didn't, and his is normal!" Cross folded his arms, sulking a bit.

"Killer asked me to do his," Horror retorted, folding up the box.

"Enough," Nightmare interjected, sitting down in a chair. "Settle down or we won't watch a movie."

"Let's watch Home Alone!" Killer poke up, throwing himself onto the couch.

"And give Dream ideas? No."

"What ideas, Midnight?" Dream asked, hopping into Nightmare's lap.

"Nothing for you to know."

"But-"

"Let's watch Elf, that's a good one-" Dust piped up from his spot.

"Are you serious? A Christmas Story is wayyyy better!" Killer argued from his end of the couch, propping his feet onto Horror's lap as the skeleton sat down, Cross following on Horror's other side. As bickering broke out again, Dream giggled behind his hand. Looking back up at the tree, he noticed that Nightmare's ornament was by his own.

"Midnight?"

"Hmm?"

"... Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Dream."

[strawberry-cowmilk]

Can I request all the characters with the prompt being these messager boxes

(Basically them reacting to them getting this and messages they'd send (Platonically with Luke ofc.))

Hi! That's such a sweet request, and the box is so cute! I hope it comes in pink too. I honestly had no idea what it did until I looked it up on Amazon. I hope I got the basic functions down so I can create this piece of writing. I hope you like it!

the obey me cast with a messenger box

-> brothers and side characters x mc (Luke platonic)

-> mc giving them a messenger box

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: none

-----

Lucifer

lucifer appreciates every gift you give him, this one included

he keeps it on his nightstand, next to the bed

imagine that cute little box in lucifer's dark-colored room

he doesn't leave messages very often, but they are usually something along the lines of 'take care of yourself today', 'thank you for helping me out today' or 'I'm proud of you'

Mammon

mammon gets all flustered when you give it to him

he jokes about selling it for money in an attempt to hide his true feelings

but literally five minutes after he got the box, he leaves you a message

'thanks for this, sorry for actin' rude'

mammon leaves messages pretty often, and it's always some funny thing he experienced that day accompanied by little doodles

Leviathan

malfunctions every time you give him a gift

you and levi decorate the box with anime stickers, after he calmed down

after you leave him alone in the room, he rants to his fish about how cute the box is, and how he loves you and knows you love him back

usually writes things like 'wanna play games?'

Satan

he thanks you for the thoughtful gift, and actually gets you something in return the next day

satan doesn't use it very much though, because he will usually just text you

also he's afraid of accidentally breaking it

one time though, a cat got on it, and left you with a message that consists of lines and dots

Asmodeus

he loves it so much, he'll cling to you as if he'd never hug you again

you two stay like that for a while, because asmo isn't letting go

asmo leaves you good morning messages every day, and at night he'll remind you to get proper sleep

also, you'll often find an 'I love you ♡' left by him

Beelzebub

he thought it was a lunchbox at first

but he wasn't disappointed to learn what the box was really for

like asmo, beel will leave 'I love you' messages often along with things about food or his sport

he also lets belphie use the box if he wants to

Belphegor

'a gift? for me? thanks'

he will take the box with him to communicate with you in case his phone runs out of batteries and he's too lazy to charge it

he'll leave messages like 'do you want to take a nap together?'

one time you got this: 'sorry, beel thought this box was food and tried to eat it, luckily it's fine'

Diavolo

he loves it

he loves it so much, he'll show barbatos in detail how it works

diavolo is a busy demon, but he will literally make time to leave a message on the box

it's always a long-ish paragraph of text

'I have a long day today, but talking to you makes me feel better, thank you, I love you'

Barbatos

he properly thanks you for the gift

and also gets you something in return

barbatos doesn't use it very often, but once he does, it's a message that brightens your day

he usually admires a certain trait you possess in his messages

Simeon

welcome to today's episode of simeon vs technology

he loves the gift you got him though, even though he must read the manual 10 times

once he figured out how to use the box, he'll leave you cute drawings or messages every day

messages like: 'I can't wait to see you again'

Luke

he thinks this box is the coolest thing ever, and thanks you a whole week for it

luke tells you about his latest achievements over the messenger box

'I made a chiffon cake for michael today and he loved it! do you want to bake it together some time?'

you made the cake the next day and it was great

Solomon

solomon thanks you for the gift, and uses magic to get you something too

he doesn't use the box very often, he sees it more as a decoration

sometimes though, he'll draw you something pretty like a landscape

one time asmo got ahold of the box and sent you something overly dramatic-romantic

you could tell ot was asmo and not solomon

[flowerbloom-arts]

And the Beast Whimpered!

(A concept for a fanfiction)

An idea that's been gnawing at me for a while but I haven't found it in me to draw doodles for it so here goes! If you wanna write the idea or otherwise write/draw something inspired by it please please do it and tell me about it, I would love it so much.

Summary:

Strange things have been going on in the Oshun Oxtra's colony, and the Ghost has been terrifically excited about it! Some say that they've spotted a monster lurking in the woods of the colony and destroying it bit by bit. Unrelatedly, the Muddler of the colony seems to be more tired than usual, possibly because he's worried about his yet to be born first child. Those new father anxieties, am I right?

(v plot, details and werewolf Muddler concept art under the cut)

Plot:

Okay, so like, the island, right? The colony isn't such a big island so if something's going on then everybody knows about it. It's the fall season, the Moomins are preparing for hibernation, the Joxter's apple tree finally grew some apples, the Mymbles are mucking around with the strangely colored leaves and Hodgkins is extremely busy working on some seasonal pranks for the King. The Muddler and the Fuzzy have recently happily announced that the Fuzzy is pregnant and they're very excited about the prospect, however, these days the Muddler seems to be more unresponsive and jittery than he used to be. The Fuzzy's felt him leave the tin some nights, it's making her feel worried.

The Mymble's daughter suggests that it might be because of this night monster that some of the children have spotted lurking about, they confirm that it's most certainly not the Moomin's Ghost, but the Ghost is very excited to meet a fellow beasty to scare folk with.

The Moomin and the Joxter, being the... quote from the Moomin: "brave, strong men of the island who must protect everyone", stake out to find the monster, leaving out the Muddler from the hunt because he's too afraid to face the thing and says he'll only be a drag.

After only a short time, they find the Monster lurking between the trees and the Joxter dives head first into the danger, diagnosing the beast as a werewolf and being excited to finally see one with his own eyes for the first time. The Moomin cautiously follows, thinking the Joxter is a fool for such impulses and they meet eyes with the Monster.

The two men recognize the fur patterns as similar to the Muddler's and the Joxter recognizes the timid and avoidant behavior as that of the Muddler's. The Monster flees after the Joxter tries to calm it down and they puzzle together that the Muddler must be transforming into this thing each night for unknown reasons.

The next morning, the Joxter confronts the Muddler about the Monster but the Muddler tries denying it. Unconvinced, the Joxter continues questioning him as if the Muddler had confirmed his suspicions and the Muddler cracks, spilling the truth of the matter.

He doesn't know why it's happening but he's too terrified to hurt anyone and he dreads every night with an aching pit in his stomach, yet at the same time he's refrained from telling anybody in the vain hope that it'll go away on its own and it'll be as if nothing has happened. The last thing he wants is anybody wasting their time worrying and trying to help with something that likely can't be helped. Then the Muddler refuses to continue the conversation with the Joxter.

The next night, the Joxter tags the Fuzzy along with him to help the Muddler in his monstrous form aswell as reveal the truth to the Fuzzy. The two of them manage to calm the Monster down and take a proper look at it: an extremely muscular and numerously scarred hound-like beast. Whimpering and breathing heavily with a deep fear to approach them or have them get close to him. He's terrified and confused, he probably doesn't understand what is going on, but the two smaller creatures manage to get him to lay down and rest.

The Fuzzy tries to talk to the Muddler about this but again does he refuse, and he outright rejects the idea of Hodgkins knowing about this. The Fuzzy reports to the Joxter about this and notes that she's noticed that he has the scars and his body seems strained and a little more similar to his monster form, this makes her mind reel with many worrying ideas and the two of them try to come up with some kind of plan to cure him of his infliction. Days and nights continue with them trying to deal with the issue in the meantime, even if the Fuzzy is starting to get ill from symptoms of pregnancy.

Eventually, the Muddler has to get some new clothes because his old ones are either torn or ill-fitting, and the only person he can think to get fitting ones from was his uncle, Hodgkins. The original crew travel to the Autocrat's abode to meet with him since this is one of their rare excuses to do so. The Muddler and his uncle have a private conversation and Hodgkins notices the Muddler's acting extremely odd. He discreetly asks the Joxter about it and he fills him in on the situation.

Hodgkins is somewhat aware of this supernatural phenomenon and calls it lycanthropy, and the only cure is to get some silver object in contact with his blood in his monstrous form to pull the Monster's spirit out of the Muddler. This is a rather painful procedure since not too many cases have been documented, which makes it hard to do experiments on cures, but stabbing something silver into the patient has shown to work.

Seeing as Hodgkins is the only one big and strong enough to at least restrain the Muddler, and not many others are willing to stab him, Hodgkins is the only one who could pull off the ritual. He arranges some vacation time with King Jones (a difficult task since the hundred year old King is not a very wise one), obtains a silver knife from the royal silverware and makes it to the colony island.

The night of the curing was an intense one, with the Monster full of survival instinct and many obstacles in the way of a good stab, but they finally get the deed done only to have the Monster bite Hodgkins' shoulder at the same time and the two of them limp over as the others rush to treat their wounds.

Hodgkins and the Muddler meet up the next day and the Muddler apologizes deeply about the situation, and particularly about the shoulder. Hodgkins assures him that it's fine, but he shouldn't have to deal with his problems on his own like this time, he also jokes about how the only person upset would probably be King Jones as he'll have to extend Hodgkins' vacation time for recovery. The two of them hug and life goes on as it should, with winter approaching as it always will.

Details:

• The Joxter is a Joxter, young Moominpappa is referred to as the Moomin and his at-the-time girlfriend (young Moominmamma) is called the Moomin Maiden

• the Muddler is more comparable to a dog than a rodent

• the Muddler has tears which stain his face with a red-brown color and must be cleaned off, however his werewolf form always has stains in its eyes

• the crew have been living on the island for about 2 years

• the Muddler has been dealing with substantial ongoing pain for the past few years and points to it as a reason to not worry about him

• the Joxter and the Fuzzy are around the same height while the Muddler is taller than both of them, only that he slouches over most of the time

• the Muddler and the Fuzzy's first child is the Fuddler (the one from the comics)

• the Muddler and the Joxter have known eachother for years and care deeply about eachother, which is why the Joxter is able to identify the Muddler's behavior

• Optional: if so desired, you can have a romantic thing having gone on between the Joxter and the Muddler before the Muddler's marriage, but after some bonding between the Joxter and the Fuzzy they all manage to develop a polyamorous relationship (love wins <3)

• the Ghost uses it/its pronouns

• the Moomins are the only creatures who hibernate on the island, it's a tradition thing that the others kinda have to deal with (but the Mymbles seem to be very interested in it)

• the werewolf is a kinda sorta allegory for anxiety or panic attacks

• the source of the curse isn't important to the story but that's mostly because I couldn't come up with one, if you have a good idea you can add it but I think it feels more real if it remains unknown or it's caused by some severe mental break

• the Muddler is in a state of nausea and unable to navigate very well in his werewolf form which makes him scrape against alot of things in the forest, which is why he has those scars

Concept art for Weremuddler:

(Imagine he has a bunch of scars all over his body ok)

[master-k0hga]

| H E C T O R |

[ Category: The Promised Land ]

| Another.

Old. Sport

... Anyways- This is Hector, and he's a flirty old fool. Despite that and kinda being annoying about it sometimes, he is in fact engaged and trying so hard and well to be a good father figure for his fiancé's son... Who hates him to fucking bits- (It's Mickey btw, Mickey, spoilt little toddler baby man; with an extreme jealousy towards anyone who gets his mother's attention other than him).. And you should feel bad for Hector cuz he really is a nice sweet, and flirty old fool...

Ok so like-

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

INFO

Name: Hector Species: Ice Elf General Personality: Flirty, jokester, laid back, supportive, somewhat two-faced, perverted, easy going Height: 7ft "2" Relationship Status: Engaged

Extra Info:

His job occupation for the organisation is actually on delivery goods and such either via in town or overall out of town; Where he and his unit use specific kinds of goods trucks that are suitable for travelling with in harsh cold and hot environments, as well as good for driving on bumpy, rocky or hill-like surfaces as well. In general, one delivery time took him almost half a year; Luckily they have proper storage to keep their stock/food deliveries in fairly good conditions still. As it's also the Frostclaw Traders Ltd to prep, manage and deliver goods along with keeping tabs on stock and whatnot while also being a services system, it is their top priority to put out stuff that's in great condition and to please their dealers/ buyers. Or make arrangements if needed

He's never been a father before as he's never had any in the past, nor had a set relationship with anyone before other than just those merely one nights with others, so this is all new to him. Luckily the women he's with now is as easy going as he is and that I believe gives them a level if understanding for each other; However when it comes to him and mickey, he won't be a step father or alive for long if that boy gets a knife. Hector better watch out

Was born with a weak bladder, not sure if he managed to get it from his mother's side or if his father had the same thing; Either way, cold weather, scaring him, making him laugh too hard, or even just squeezing his sides makes the water works; He's teased by it often and to be honest that's not fun

Despite having his own job, he is also a defender/soldier of this town too; A sword that was passed from his grandmother over to him after she had passed and he's kept hold of it ever since. He does train quite a lot, so he's not unfamiliar with using the cobalt blue blade. He also has a gun too but he and the other people in this tribe tend to try avoiding with using guns as the sound actually startles everyone in this strange realm. It's not recommended as their survival kicks in and they all skitter around and hide like frightened cats

Flirts with the well known chef too often so people think there's a thing going on there too, to which people should know by now that he's just a major flirt with everyone

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

... Belive that's all I have for him too, now moving onto others at some point to give the ref treatment to or to just re-draw them in general!... Which I have done and am trying so fucking hard to do, to which sucks cuz my motivation is balls...

Anyways- Enjoy the flirty man, and cuz I'm stupid I have a quick fan art doodle to post along with this one... (Although I'll be posting this shortly after the other one but who cares-)

... Whatever.

. Hector, Art © Me . DON’T RE-POST .

[poliel]

Bugsnax Drabbles: Sketchbook

It was the first time in years that Buddy had a proper sketch book to draw in. They’d taken to doodling in their notebooks alongside their notes, rarely putting much effort in. But now they had a whole big pad of paper just for drawing. It was nice paper too, thick and gray-toned instead of the classic white. The pressure to draw something good in it, especially as their first drawing was immense. So much so they’d been putting it off but it was time.

They gathered it up along with some pencils – the nice charcoal ones that they rarely used these days for fear of wasting them on half-assed art – and their good erasers. After sharping some of the pencils back to a proper point they headed back to the kitchen. Quiet as they could, they sat at the table and laid out their stuff. Flipping open their sketchbook to the first page, they looked up at Filbo.

He was cooking dinner, still in the early stages of it, and thankfully didn’t seem to have noticed Buddy coming back in. He was the perfect candidate to be the subject of Buddy’s first serious piece of art in however long it had been. He was the one who’d gotten them the sketch book after all upon noting how much Buddy liked to doodle. Why’d he’d gone out of his way to get them a nice one was a mystery but regardless, it was a nice gesture.

After just watching for a few minutes, they picked up a pencil and set to sketching, not trying to capture any particular pose or movement, just Filbo. Having so much space to draw in felt awkward and clunky at first but they soon found a groove and settled into it again. By the time they got the detail stage it felt almost normal to be putting effort into a drawing again. When it was done they were even almost happy with it… key word there being ‘almost’.

It had been a long time since they last put serious effort into anything art related, they were rusty and it showed. But well, it wasn’t the worst. They’d managed to capture some of Filbo’s cuteness and charm. And they could always try again and hopefully draw him better next time. Because there was going to be a next time for sure. They’d always enjoyed drawing people, especially people they liked… especially people they had a crush on. Not a thing that happened often, thankfully, but they were well and truly in love with Filbo.

Well, if they’d finally found the courage to draw in their new nice sketch book maybe that meant it was time to find the courage to say something to Filbo too? The drawing hadn’t turned out as good as they’d hoped or wanted but it wasn’t terrible so perhaps their confession had a chance of turning out the same? But were those two things even really…

“Buddy! How long have you been in here?”

They looked up to see Filbo looking at them. “Uh, a little while.” Having forgotten to bring their fixative spray – if they even still had any after so long – they laid their sketchbook open on the table and stood up.

Filbo stepped closer and leaned in to look at it. “Is that me?”

They hadn’t quite intended to show it to him, just to lay it down, but too late now. So they turned it to be facing him so he could see it better. “Uh, yeah. You like it?”

“Oh Buddy, I love it!”

“Good. That’s good because…” they moved around the table to stand next to him, “because… I love you.” They smiled, or tried to at least. Maybe they shouldn’t have come on quite so strongly.

Filbo froze, turning his gaze back onto them. “You mean like… um… uh…”

“Romantically. It’s okay if you don’t…”

“I love you too! Also uh… the same way. I didn’t think that, um, you felt the same. And I didn’t want be weird since I’m like staying at your house and stuff.”

That was also part of why Buddy had been so nervous about confessing. But… “If we both feel the same then, uh… want to maybe go out on a date like this weekend or something?”

“Yeah, a date sounds lovely. You also maybe wanna like kiss or something? It’s fine if not I just… uh…”

Feeling emboldened by how well this was going so far, Buddy leaned in for a kiss and then an embrace as Filbo pulled him closer for another.

[womansound]

also nao and quinn, we're BUILDING THINGS tonight !!!!!!!!

SEND   ME   A   SHIP   AND   I’LL   TELL   YOU…

*   who’s   the   cuddler   ?   quinn!   i   think   in   general   he’d   be   the   more   physically   affectionate   one,   hanging   off   of   nao   and   using   them   as   his   personal   jungle   gym.   not   that   nao   minds,   obviously   !   which   is   so   dear   to   me   !!!    *   who   makes   the   bed   ?   im   gonna   say   neither   of   them   i’m   sorry   HKGJRNGR   nao   doesn’t   really   function   like   that,   is   of   the   mindset   that   at   some   point   they’re   going   to   be   back   in   bed   anyway,   so   what’s   the   point! *   who   wakes   up   first   ?   maybe   nao   ?   it   isn’t   long   though,   just   enough   to   get   the   coffee   machine   running   before   coming   back   to   peck   quinn   awake   :”)   if   they   somehow   manage   to   get   up   even   earlier   that’s   a   quick   doodle   of   sleepy   quinn   in   their   sketchbook,   i   swear   they’ve   got   a   million   of   them   at   this   point   but   whatever   !!   it’s   their   most   recent   favorite   sight   !! *   who   has   the   weird   taste   in   music   ?   definitely   quinn.   nao’s   music   taste   doesn’t   diverge   much   beyond   the   same   playlist   of   some   25   songs   they   put   on   when   drawing,   so   quinn   exposes   them   to   all   these   different   songs   and   genres   and   it’s   kind   of   this   whole   new   world   they   loveeee   exploring   ok   !!!   and   they   love   exploring   it   with   him   !!!! *   who   is   more   protective   ?   quinn.   nao   says   they’re   strong   and   tough   but   haze   and   doie   already   beg   to   differ,   what   more   quinn   !!   that   is   HIS   baby   thanks   so   much   !! *   who   sings   in   the   shower   ?   quinn.   nao   loves   listening   to   it   from   the   bedroom,   or   in   the   shower   with   him,   or   wherever.    *   who   cries   during   movies   ?   nao   is   a   WRECK   each   time!   i   think   they’re   a   huge   movie   nut   too   so   it’s   so   funny   because   they   KNOW   certain   movies   will   make   ‘em   cry   and   yet   continue   to   watch   them   anyway   HBRKJNGRKLGR *   who   spends   the   most   while   out   shopping   ?   nao   lives   to   spoil   their   friends   so   i   don’t   think   quinn   would   be   any   different!   quinn   mentions   something   offhandedly   and   nao   just   gets   it   for   him   without   question,   throws   four   of   the   same   thing   into   their   shopping   cart   before   moving   casually   right   along   ! *   who   kisses   more   roughly   ?   nao,   but   mostly   because   it’s   been   a   while   since   they’ve   had   someone   hold/touch   them   like   that   ?   but   they’ve   known   from   the   beginning   that   they   wanted   to   devour   quinn   alive,   it’s   not   fair   that   someone   is   that   pretty,   they   must   do   what   they   gotta   do   ! *   who   is   more   dominant   ?   quinn,   but   i   feel   like   he’s   gentle   about   it   when   he   wants   to   be   ..   nao   very   much   appreciates   it   though   they   like   that   in   a   man   hehe ... 😌 *   my   rating   of   the   ship   from   1-10.   LIKE   SEVEN   MILLIONNNNNNN   ADA   we’ve   had   them   maybe   5   proper   minutes   and   already   im   OBSESSED   icb   we   DID   IT   AGAIN!