#my candy love sprites

[maddafuchagurl]

Ladies and gentlemen: her Purrrjesty, Blanche!

[idolcandy]

Jason Sprites

[covehearted]

Cass in a corset Cass in a corset Cass in a corset Cass in a corset Cass in a

[eldaryasharbinger]

I've updated Petronilla's bio and changed her family from the canon one to her being Faraize's daughter!! (still adopted)

more yapping below the cut!!

I got the idea while I was replaying MCL HSL, and remembered that Faraize had pink eyes! It technically doesn't matter since she's adopted anyways but I thought it was nice </3

Like they still somewhat look like they're related even though they're really not, one that doesn't know could assume that 'Nilla looks more like her mother...

I also think it ties nicely with everything I did for Petronilla already, since we don't get to hear much about the professors lives during HSL and since she was homeschooled it might make sense that no one ever heard about Faraize's daughter... He's also the history teacher and I believe that it is 100% history teacher behavior

I also think this could open the possibility for Thomas and Petronilla to have met at some point during childhood, they're the same age so during HSL she was a kid as well (I might take the time to make her child sprite cause it would be so cute... And maybe upgrade Faraize's sprite as well for a New Gen version 🤔)

Petronilla got the scar on her nose from falling from the swings at the playground, so imagine if Thomas was also at the playground when that happened and thought "what a silly girl..." just to never see her again, or maybe they even played together but again, never met for a second time

I also think that they both don't remember each other as adults, I do remember a few of the kids that I used to play with only once (like at the beach etc) but I definitely wouldn't be able to recognize them right now, I have no Idea what they looked like or what their name was, I only remember facts 😭🙏 (Since I "headcanon" Thomas as autistic as well I base these things off of my own experience 😔)

I've always liked Faraize so I feel like it's the right change, he brings me comfort and was one of my favorite characters from HSL, I'd love to drag him along and make him part of 'Nilla's story <3

I also think that he'd probably try to clumsily intimidate Jason to leave his daughter alone and, of course, fail 😭👍🏻

Also, 'Nilla ended up sharing some interests with my old Candy (Kilea, she ended up being my first oc and I've developed her as her own character ever since 2015, that's why I barely talk about my old Candy,,) and since I've always liked to pretend that she was Faraize's pupil, now I can say it's because her student reminded him of his daughter and hoped for her to grow up as nice of a person as Kilea was 😭😭🤲🏻💕

One thing is that we don't know Faraize's first name, I tried to ask Chinomiko on Instagram and this is what she said (which I had expected ngl haha!!)

I don't have any ideas so it would be nice to hear your suggestions! I could make a poll with some of the names and let the community decide what we should name Faraize :D!! I don't want to pick one that might confuse others, so I thought it would be nice to choose one together<3

I actually like the way "Francis Faraize" sounds, but after checking I remembered that's Nathaniel's father's name so idk how we all feel about that,,

[arcanadreams]

HMMMM IS IT REALLY THE NECKLACE YOU'RE TALKING ABOUTTTT

[thedrotter]

re:kinder doodle dump part three !!! drawings with wildly different moods www they are more polished ans complete than my other doodles because. why not🥺!!!

[augitalks]

Bfs I'm so in love 😭💕😭

[mazojo]

Roy my life is YOURS

[mclzandaya]

MY CANDY LOVE ALTERNATE LIFE ARMIN SPRITES 3/3

1st post

2nd post

[choerry-lipped]

devon... i'm not wooed yet but something tells me his illus will be top tier

[maddafuchagurl]

The hen from Easter event of this year!

[idolcandy]

Thomas Sprites

[rayroseu]

OH SO IT WASNT ENOUGH TO DO IT ON PRE-GROOVY HE HAS TO DO IT ON HIS GROOVIFIED VERSION TOO AJFIWOFIOWJ!!!!!

HIS POSE IS LIKE MALLEUS ON HIS NORMAL SPRITE.... IM SOBBING AT THE MUSEUM SILVER ‼️‼️‼️😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍🤍

Never beating the Malleus' brother allegations, I think at this point he's just blatantly admitting it JDJKAJFJW !!

The profound contrast between Silver's love for Malleus and Lilia when almost the entirety of his "true nation" hated them, will always make me crash LILIA'S SON AND MALLEUS' BROTHER IS GROWING UP WELL 😭😭😭✨✨‼️‼️‼️

But isnt this a great card that showcases he's truly a "child of peace"?? The 3 good fairies spell on him was that he'll wake up on an era pf peace (and ofc when he meets someone that truly loves him), He is someone that carries "the face of Silver Owls (Knight of Dawn)" but his actions pays tribute to Briar Valley (to Malleus)

MIND YOU that this pose is almost exclusively to Malleus only yet they made Silver do it !! 😭😭JDJAJDJ And yk whats more profound about this pose is that in Silver's case.... his hand placed on the left side where the heart is KEJQKJRKWS !!!! Ohhh he's truly accepted that it can't be changed that hes from Silver Owls but he can always dedicate his actions to the ones that cares for him despite that (Lilia and I know Malleus as well (even if he finds out the truth(copium)💥💥💥)

AND I KNEW THAT OUTIFT SUITED HIM!!!! DO YOU SEE HOW SILVERS HAIR BLENDS SO WELL WITH THAT SUIT!!! LITERAL EYE CANDY, HE'S LIKE AN ANGEL HERE WITH HOW GLARING THE LIGHT SOURCE IS BUT ITS NOT A DEMURE TYPE OF ANGELIC LOOK, ITS A KNIGHTLY ONE!!! 🥲🥲💕💞✨✨✨

KFJQJRJW THIS IS PROBABLY MY FAVORITE PLATINUM CARD PLEASE... 😭🤍✨✨

Edit: Also PAUSEEE THE BOOK 7 FORESHADOW THIS CARD EXUDESSSSS SILVER CQLM DOWN AJFJAJE

The Knight of Dawn doomed to fight the Evil Princess.....

The Knight of Dreams doomed to fight the King of the Abyss

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭BUT BUT TRUE LOVE WILL END THE CYCLE RIGHT RIGHT... WJUTIQ😭😭😭😭

source

[soppsop]

[Image Description: A series of digital redraws of the Cookie Run Ovenbreak characters from the Cookie Trial event in the Ace Attorney art style. The first image shows Cotton Candy Cookie standing in the witness stand, holding a love letter that covers her mouth. She's looking to the side and blushing. Her textbox reads "I'm here because the defendant stole something from me!".

The second image shows Langue de Chat cookie in the defence bench thinking "Um... The witness is blushing...". He is pushing up his glasses and has a drop of sweat on his face.

The third image is of Roguefort Cookie standing as the defence's co-council in a prison outfit, looking at the camera and smiling, saying "That person really is an interesting one..."

The fourth image shows Cappuccino Cookie standing in the prosecutor's bench, holding a book in his left arm and hitting the bench with his right fist, shouting "Tell us what they stole!"

The fifth image shows Cotton Candy Cookie again, this time blushing more, with her eyes closed and the letter covering her face even more and saying "That person..... Completely stole my heart!"

The sixth image shows Langue de Chat Cookie shocked, leaning on the bench and pushing up his now broken glasses, sweating and with messy hair. The textbox says "!?"

The seventh image is Cappuccino Cookie also shocked and sweating, leaning on the bench with his fist clenched and the textbox says "!?!?!???"

The last image shows a comparison between the redraws and the original cookie sprites. End ID]

I'm sorry everyone I gave in. I attorneyd the cookies

This was meant to be just some doodles but i was having wayyy too much fun with this lmao. The text is a bit awkward but there was a LOT of dialogue in the original and i had to cut it down somehow rip

Anyways I think Roguefort Cookie would be the worst defendant ever

*I'm very bad at writing and describing things so if anyone has any corrections to my ID please tell me thank you 😭

[jointherebellion215]

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile…. 

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

[shugar0cone]

Alastor x reader with a sweet tooth 👀? anything from soda to hard/chewy candies to pastries basically 🎉

*honestly Alastor is surprised your teeth ain’t fucked up with how much Shugar and hard shit you eat.

Charlie brought some of her candy too you, you both enjoyed sweets sometimes y’all would go on a swweting trip, aka you consume a shit tone of sugar. You tried to get Alastor to eat some with you but he refused the only thing that was worth eating to him in dark coco with espresso, yep that’s it.

But one time OHHHH you were so close to get him eating a sour hard candy. “Please my dear!.” You leaned on Alastor. He hated when you used ‘dear’ on him. It was a no escape on what you needed/wanted him to do. “Darling I have to keep my smile, don’t need to ruin it.” He smiled thinking that would make you stop. You smiled mischievously knowing that would come up. “Alastor this doesn’t mess up your teeth see.” You grinned almost as wide as him.

He took the green sour ball out of your hands. You smiled knowing that you possibly won until Niffty came along and swept it out of his hands. “MINE!” Yells Niffty putting it in her mouth, and makeing a sour face. “Oops looks like I can’t doll.” He leaned down to you smiling.

Next day you had a soada, Alastor did like fizy drinks like champagne and fancy bubble water but one again that’s it, no wonder he is a fucking stick. “Here al!” You say a champagne glass with your sprite. “What’s this?” He said. “What can’t do somthing nice for my love, my poet, my charmer!” You gasp. He deadpanned to you. “It’s sparkling water Charlie had some in her stash.” You say sitting crossing your arm. He took a sip as a record scratch played. “YES! I FUCKING DID IT!” You say raising your arm. You turn around seeing Alastor drink the whole thing. “This ain’t bad I don’t do well but this has a kick.” He said. No shit it’s from hell Donald’s.

A/N: so there ye go love! Now I know this ain’t the best because I have a sweet tooth and never met anyone who hated sweets, especially when you come from a family that makes ALOT of pastries and sweets. Anyways hoped y’all love it.

-Shugar