#(where I got this lovely top from)

[fridgedeeznuts]

per aspera ad astra

[lunarharp]

uhh another modern au agott follow-up. They've gotten progressively sillier

[youssefguedira]

V, JoeNicky & Nile

V. An abandoned or empty place.

When Joe pulls the sheet off the couch it kicks up enough dust that it makes Nile sneeze. The couch underneath is old, wooden frame rotting, fabric stained and full of holes where moths have eaten away at it. 

“Sorry,” Joe says to Nile when she finally manages to get the sneezing under control. “Didn’t realise it was that bad.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at the couch. Nile looks it over.

“There’s no saving that,” she says, wiping at her eyes. She can heal from falling over ten stories, but she can’t get away from allergies.

Joe frowns. “I liked that couch.”

The house is older than anywhere else they’ve brought her, and has been abandoned for long enough that it’s falling apart. But through some trick of posing as their own sons, or something, Joe and Nicky still own it, even if there’s a giant hole in the roof and all the windows are broken. Why they’d decided to come back here, Nile doesn’t know, but it’s a nice enough area, and a good distraction from, well. Everything. Growing back a leg, she’s discovered, is not fun. 

From one of the other rooms – she thinks it’s the kitchen, she’s not actually sure where Nicky had wandered to – there’s the sound of something breaking and crashing to the ground, and a muffled curse. 

Joe makes a questioning noise in the vague direction of the kitchen. A few moments later, Nicky appears in the doorway, covered in dust. “I am okay,” he says. “But I think we will need to go out to eat tonight.”

“Nothing?” 

Nicky shakes his head. “Unless you want to start a fire and go hunt some rabbits.”

Joe grins. “Just like old times, right?”

Nile shakes her head firmly, which makes Nicky smile. She loves them, but there’s no way they’re doing that. 

“We can probably clear out enough space in here,” Joe says, gesturing to the floor. “Get the sleeping bags out of the car. Probably have to start a fire anyway, but…”

Nile looks around again while Joe says something to Nicky in Arabic that makes him laugh. The house is falling apart, sure, but it’s structurally stable, and the bones are all there. It could be something. They’ve got time to make it something. 

Nicky is the one who goes for pizza in the end – he doesn’t trust Nile and Joe to order it if left to their own devices – while they try to clear out a space in the living room. Eventually, though, after Nile has another sneezing fit, Joe suggests they just take the sleeping bags outside instead, which works out a lot better. He sets about starting a fire with practiced ease while Nile sets out the sleeping bags around it. They’re far enough away from civilisation that she can’t hear cars passing by, which is kind of surreal, and the stars are brighter than she’s ever seen them. 

When Nicky gets back, two boxes balanced on one arm and a bottle of wine in the other, he looks over their makeshift camp and laughs. “Just like old times, then?” he asks.

Joe grins. “Except we have pizza.”

“And actual sleeping bags,” Nile says.

“Ah, these modern inventions could never quite match the comfort of a pile of furs,” Joe says wistfully. Nile gives him a look. She’s ninety percent sure that one’s bullshit, but she can never quite tell with him. 

Nicky sets down the pizza boxes, and jogs back to the car to grab the pack of plastic wine glasses they’d bought before they got here. 

“We should’ve bought marshmallows,” Nile says. “Could have made s’mores.”

“Well, we’ll have to go to the hardware store tomorrow anyway,” Joe points out. “And I think it’ll be a little while before we can actually sleep in there.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Nicky agrees.

[sallytwo]

Jennifer nearly jumped into the water / and she was tired like no one's ever been tired

[xxplastic-cubexx]

so obsessed with how your cherik is old married couple raising 15 children (which is basically what they are tbh)

i always tell myself i draw what i observe and what im observin is two on-and-off divorced old men trading custody agreements like a diabolical game of ping pong

[vinelark]

Hiiiiii!!! First of all, absolutely LOVE bbts! I have lost count of how many times I have reread it at this point. Still go feral over it regularly. I'm at chapter three rn and wanted to ask how Bart figured Tim out. I'm probably just a bit dumb, but I can't figure out what gave him away. Anyways, hope you have a nice week! :)

hello! thank you! and no this is a very fair question considering kon’s pov is (conveniently) distracted when this goes down. i went a bit more in depth here about why bart realizes in this moment but kon doesn’t, but the gist of bart’s realization is that he says “hi, tim” and this loopy, supposedly random civilian immediately says “names,” which is exactly how robin reprimands them every time they use one of their names in the field, and hey come to think of it this random civilian on a roof is kinda robin-shaped—

“Shit, okay,” Bart says, and a moment later he’s crouching next to Tim. “Okay. Okay. Hi, Tim.”

Tim mumbles something while Kon is listening to the whine of sirens down the street, and Bart does something very un-Bart-like, which is freeze for almost a whole second.

[…]

“He said ‘names.’”

“He’s said a few names”—like Kon’s name, and Bruce, which Kon can’t think about right now or he might do something stupid like go hunt down Mr. Wayne and drop him in the middle of Antarctica so Tim never has to apologize for anything ever again—“because he’s high on an extremely fucked-up hallucinogenic. Just focus on keeping him physically secure.”

“No, he literally said—�� Bart cuts off, eyes widening. “Oh. Oh. Never mind.”

and then bart realizes that whatever’s going on here kon doesn’t know and bart is like mfjdhdhdASDKFJ 🤐🫡

[stormyoceans]

LINE READING SO DEVASTATING I NEED TO DIE ABOUT IT

[feroluce]

So I went to the wiki page for the henghill Bullet & Brain mission of 2.2 looking for some dialogue I had missed and

a) I found something incredibly tasty that slotted into some other thoughts I'd been having, more on that on another day, and

b) I saw this super fun little trivia at the bottom, which!

I knew Penacony characters like Boothill took a lot of inspirations from old movies, but I didn't realize it was even in his and Dan Heng's relationship, that's so cool!!

It fits them very well, it's such a fun reference. "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" was an old buddy Western film (from 1969- nice) about a pair of outlaws. Butch Cassidy was the leader of a gang, and described as clever, affable, and talkative. Meanwhile, his closest companion, the Sundance Kid, was known as a man of few words.

Cassidy's original birth name was much more plain, but similar to Boothill, he took on a new moniker when he became an outlaw. "Cassidy" had been the last name of his beloved mentor, who taught him how to shoot and ride. And Sundance Kid was known as he was because Sundance was the name of his hometown, and it was the only place that had ever managed to catch and jail him, back when he'd been younger (also similar to Dan Heng, but ouch).

These two stick together like glue throughout the length of the film- through Cassidy's leadership of the gang being challenged, through a train robbery gone wrong, through being pursued by mercenaries, and even through fleeing to Bolivia and trying to start over together.

I don't want to say too much more, since the mission title is referencing one specific movie that I've never seen. I kinda wanna watch it now, though, just to see the inspiration that went into Boothill and Dan Heng and how they get along. I just think it's really sweet that these two were literally made to be the best of bros, how lovely is that. 💕

[doctorsiren]

Okay chat here’s my Spotify wrapped

I find it funny that two of my top artists are The Same Artist

620 out of 621 of those streams for Stuck Inside happened in a single week, which was right before they stopped tracking for wrapped

[chatdae]

love how the older skaters in the senior division give Yurio encouragement and that each time it pisses Yurio off. JJ is intentionally condescending so that makes sense, but with Viktor and Yuuri they're not even being condescending. Yurio's just dialed in on being a hater... and i love that for him <3

[razzle-zazzle]

3682 Words; Discolored

AO3 ver

“Poppy, did Branch crash at your pod last night?”

Poppy turned to look at Floyd as he ambled over to her, cane and tail working together to keep his balance. He came to a stop and sat down on a nearby mushroom, and Poppy smiled. Floyd was making great progress with his recovery! He wouldn’t have made it to that mushroom in a single go last week.

“No, I haven’t seen him since yesterday.” Poppy responded. “Was he not at home last night?” That was pretty unlike Branch—either he slept in his bunker or he slept somewhere else he considered safe enough, which was pretty limited.

Floyd shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon.” He looked out towards the rest of the village, frowning. “Is that…” He swallowed, his eyes not meeting Poppy’s, “That’s not normal for him, is it?”

Poppy’s tail lashed behind her. For all that Branch was eager to have his brothers back in his life, they’d been gone for so long that they were essentially strangers. As much as she wished everyone could fall back into familiar routines and get along, the world just didn’t work like that. Once again, she was confronted with the fact that, for all that he was living with him, Floyd still didn’t know Branch as well as she did.

Poppy shrugged off the annoyance—it wasn’t her issue to resolve, and it was well on its way to fixing itself—and focused in on the important parts. “Did he leave any notes on where he was going?” While he didn’t do it as often these days, Branch could still disappear into the forest for days at a time in search of supplies and other materials for his stockpiles. But he never left without some kind of indication of where he was going—not after his and Poppy’s adventure to Bergentown that ended with the formal end to Trollstice.

Floyd’s grip tightened on the handle of his cane. His tail curled around his legs as he spoke, “Not that I could find. He was acting really evasive all day, too.”

Poppy’s tail smacked the ground. Okay, now things really weren’t adding up. “I’ll go ask around,” she decided, “and see if anyone else has seen Branch.” Her duties as Queen took her all over Pop Village and Trollstopia as a matter of course, so she was bound to stumble upon some answers eventually.

Floyd nodded. “I’ll go see if John knows anything.” He decided, standing up. Poppy almost offered to go with him, but Floyd didn’t even spare her another glance as he went on. If something went awry, there was no shortage of Trolls who would happily help him out, so Poppy resolved to put her focus to where it would be most useful.

Her daily rounds were pretty routine at this point—after the morning song, Poppy went around to check on her people, letting them voice opinions, concerns, and even just happy “Good mornings!” Though not a social butterfly, Branch still had a few friends throughout the village and in Trolltopia, so it was just a matter of collecting what information she could and putting it all together.

Everywhere she asked, she got the same response. Nobody had seen Branch past yesterday evening—most Trolls hadn’t even seen him after the morning at all. Floyd seeing Branch in the bunker yesterday afternoon was the latest that anyone had seen him, it seemed.

The market was bustling with activity when Poppy arrived, sun high in the sky. Trolls of every shape and color walked around through the stalls, exchanging goods and gossip in equal measure. Poppy beelined for Smidge’s stall—the stoutberries were in season, and her Right Paw Troll had no shortage of eager customers.

“Good Morning Poppy!” Smidge greeted, passing a mug of stoutberry juice across the counter to an eager Troll. “Here, have a mug on the house.”

Poppy took the mug with one paw and reached into her hair with the other. “In that case, have THIS!” She handed the bag of cookies across the counter. “On the house, of course.” She smirked. It was a routine exchange, but no less genuine.

Smidge giggled, taking out one of the cookies before re-tying the bag and slipping it into her hair. “Oh, yeah,” She passed out another mug, and Poppy shifted to the side so she wouldn’t get in the way, “A pair of Pop Trolls came up to my stand the other day.” Smidge started.

Poppy leaned forwards. Smidge wasn’t one for frivolities—outside of the usual frivolities Trolls concerned themselves with, of course—and Smidge’s tone implied there would be more to the story than face value.

“I didn’t recognize them at all.” Smidge elaborated, passing another mug out to another customer. “But they were nice enough and they bought plenty of stoutberry juice.” She shrugged, pleased at the successful sale.

“Huh.” That was weird. Poppy knew everyone in Pop Village, and was well on her way to knowing everyone in Trollstopia, as well. As her right paw, Smidge should also be able to recognize every face, if not know them all personally. “Maybe they were Putt-Putt Trolls?” Poppy was still familiarizing herself with Viva’s people, after all.

Smidge hummed. “One of them had wild enough hair for it, but I don’t think so. The rest of the details just don’t line up.” She lifted her paw to her mouth, her brow creasing in contemplation. “Come to think of it, one of them had eyes just like Branch’s. Like, uncannily so.”

Poppy frowned. It wasn’t unheard of for Pop Trolls to be out wandering the world—Branch’s brothers had been doing exactly that for years—but something about the timing of it all felt off. Two strangers showing up barely a day before Branch’s… Poppy didn’t want to call it a disappearance—Branch was tough, he was probably fine. But the fact remained that nobody she’d talked to had seen him since yesterday, and nobody had any idea why. It reminded her of years past, before peace with the Bergens when Branch barely involved himself with the village at all if he could help it. But he had come so far since then!

“Speaking of Branch, have you seen him?” Poppy asked, already anticipating the answer.

Smidge hummed. “Last I saw was when he bought some stoutberry juice yesterday morning.” She handed out three mugs to a pair of Trolls. “I don’t know where he went after he left the market.”

Right, just as Poppy had feared. She sighed, and turned to Smidge with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Smidge.”

Smidge’s eyes narrowed. “Have you seen Branch?” She asked, already intuiting the reason behind Poppy’s question. It was just like her to pick up whenever Poppy had a problem. Poppy didn’t know what she would ever do without Smidge.

Poppy shook her head. “Not since yesterday.” She responded. “And everyone else is saying the same. I’m gonna check his bunker for a note after doing my rounds in Trollstopia.”

“That’s unlike him…” Smidge put a paw to her mouth, thinking. “Once I’m done here, I’ll go see if Milton has any snoutsniffers in his care, see if I can’t track down any leads.”

“Thanks, Smidge,” Poppy grinned, “You’re the best!”

Smidge laughed. “Don’t I know it!” She waved as Poppy stepped back, reaching for another stoutberry to refill the pitcher with. “Have a good day!”

“Of course!” Poppy laughed as she skipped off. Like she could ever have a day that wasn’t good in some way—there was always a bright side to everything, even when things got bad. There had to be.

With that thought in her mind and a spring in her step, Poppy went on to continue her rounds.

+=+=+=+=+

“Any luck?” Floyd’s voice greeted Poppy as she returned to her starting point, the sun having long disappeared behind the trees. Floyd was sitting on a mushroom, cane leaning to his side, his arms folded in his lap. His tail curled in on itself.

“Smidge offered to borrow a snoutsniffer from Milton to help investigate.” Poppy responded, sitting down next to Floyd. “But other than that? Nothing.” She leaned back and stretched her arms above her head, her tail and legs stretching as well. There hadn’t been a note in Branch’s bunker—at least, not where he’d usually leave notes. But it could take weeks for Poppy to dig through the entire bunker, and Branch wasn’t the type to leave his notes where they couldn’t be found. So here she was, sitting next to Floyd and looking for something more concrete to do.

“John hasn’t seen him either,” Floyd shook his head, “But he said he’d go looking.”

Poppy brightened. “Oh, that’ll be a great help!” She hadn’t known John Dory for long, it was true—but it was already clear that he had a skill for finding people. He’d managed to find Floyd’s prison in Mount Rageous and Branch at Bridget and Gristle’s wedding within days, after all! For all his… well, Poppy didn’t want to be so mean as to call them faults, and it wasn’t really her place to say, but John Dory definitely needed some work—for all his… rough edges, Poppy trusted that when John Dory put his mind to something, he’d find it.

Floyd nodded. Poppy waited in case he wanted to say anything else, but no words were forthcoming. That was fine, though.

“Queen Poppy!” And there was Smide, approaching with a snoutsniffer in her hair! Poppy stood up excitedly, her tail beginning to lash in anticipation.

Smidge set the snoutsniffer down. “Meet Petunia.” She boasted, “Milton says he’s the best tracker in the litter.” Her chest puffed out as she spoke, pride welling up in her eyes as she thought of her boyfriend.

“He’s. So. ADORABLEEEEEE!” Poppy was already on her knees, tail whipping behind her. With a squeal she brushed her paws over Petunia’s periwinkle carapace. Petunia whuffed in response, shoving his face into Poppy’s paws to demand more attention. “Ohhhh my Troll, who’s adorable? Who’s the cutest wittle snoutsniffer in the world? Is it you? Yes! It’s you! AWWW!” Poppy’s paws were covered in slobber. Her heart wanted to burst right out of her chest. She couldn’t stop cooing—Petunia was just! Too! CUTE!

Behind them, Floyd chuckled faintly, standing with a grunt of effort. “Are we ready, then?”

Smidge nodded, and Poppy stood, tearing her paws away from Petunia’s perfect periwinkle carapace. They started by the bunker, Petunia sniffing at a shirt Poppy had retrieved from within before puttering off to find the scent. Smidge unclipped the leash to let Petunia work more efficiently.

“Does…” Floyd closed his mouth, mulling over his words. “Does Branch ever just disappear like this?” He made a face the moment he finished speaking, ears flushing slightly. Poppy opened her mouth to speak—

“Not really?” Smidge answered, as Petunia kept puttering around. “A year ago this would have been pretty normal—Branch only ever came into the village when he needed something. We’d go days without seeing him at all sometimes.”

“Ugh, and he used to never leave his bunker at all during winter.” Poppy added, flicking her tail. “So we wouldn’t see him for months.” She crossed her arms at the memory.

“Yeah, and you’d end up bundling all the invitations you made him into a basket for him to find in the spring.” Smidge giggled, paw over her mouth. Her tail flirted behind her as she turned to face Poppy fully. “Oh, and that first year when you just piled them all on his welcome mat!” She mimed a big pile falling down with her paws, making a whoosh noise. “He told me about that a few months ago, said the whole pile fell on his face when he opened the trap door!”

Poppy snickered, face flushing. She hadn’t heard about that part! But it made sense; though fifteen-year-old Poppy hadn’t known that the welcome mat was the entrance to Branch’s bunker, that didn’t change the fact that she had basically buried Branch’s door in invitations.

…maybe she should apologize for that. What if Branch had been unable to open the trapdoor?

“Huh.” Floyd was gripping the head of his cane rather tightly, his tail starting to curl around his legs. “...all winter?”

Poppy nodded. “He’s really come out of his shell since!” And she would never not be proud of how far Branch had come. Finding his true colors again, braving the trials and tribulations of developing a healthy social life, reuniting with his family—Troll, Poppy could gush about how proud Branch made her for hours! She almost turned to her side as if to nudge Branch, but—

But Branch wasn’t here. He wasn’t here for Poppy to watch his face flush and ears flutter in the way they did when he got flustered, blue tones creeping up his paws to his chest in that way that made Poppy’s heart melt. Branch wasn’t here, and he was probably definitely fine because he could take care of himself and get through almost anything when he put his mind to it—

But that was fine because Poppy would find out where he went and it would all work out! Her tail straightened out behind her, taut and rigid like a cord ready to break. Of course she was worried, he was her boyfriend, she’d worry about him always because that was what it was to care about someone—

Petunia’s barks snapped Poppy out of her spiraling thoughts.

“Oh my guh, Petunia found something!” Smidge called out. Poppy rushed over to the Petunia, kneeling down to see what he had found.

It was Branch’s Hug Time bracelet, half-buried in the dirt. Poppy leaned down and picked it up, examining the cut in the cord. The flower looked like it had been stepped on—no, stomped. The petals had withered, and the timer was shattered. Poppy had almost missed it entirely—it looked no different from regular forest floor detritus.

This… Poppy tucked the bracelet into her hair. She couldn’t tell how recently it had been cut, but—surely she was overreacting. Branch probably caught it on something without noticing; he could get really single-minded when he was in the zone. Yeah. It was fine. Everything would be fine.

But Poppy still couldn’t shake the feeling clinging to her fur. It hung off of her tail and hair like a foreboding miasma, implacable in its surety. If Branch were here, he’d be doing all the worrying for her. But he wasn’t here, and all Poppy had was a cut Hug Time bracelet to show for it. So far, of course. She would totally track him down in the end, of course.

Yeah. Poppy clenched her paws. She was sure of it: they’d find Branch by the end of the week!

+=+=+=+=+

It had been weeks. Poppy saw neither hide nor hair of Branch, and nobody else did, either. It was official; something had happened, something big.

She’d already told Bruce and Clay and Viva, and John Dory was coming in and out of Trollstopia to tell her how his search was going—

(Not super well. Rhonda could track, but she wasn’t a snoutsniffer. Whatever Branch was doing, he was moving around a lot, and every time Rhonda found a lead it only lasted a few days at most.)

—Poppy had done about all that she could, at this point. Petunia and the other snoutsniffers were earning a lot of treats and attention for their work combing the forest for clues—

(not far from the Hug Time bracelet, Petunia had found critterbuss tracks. They were similar to Rhonda’s, but not quite the same.)

—she’d gotten the word out to her fellow leaders in case they know anything, including Gristle and Bridget—

(even after a full year of peace with the Bergens, Branch was still wary of the ones he didn’t know, and didn’t like going into Bergentown alone. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be near Bergentown; Hole ‘N Fun was in the same general area. None of the other genre leaders had any news, but they agreed to help spread the word around.)

—and between all of that and her regular duties as Queen of the Pop Trolls and Pop Ambassador to Trollstopia, Poppy was outright exhausted!

But even as she settled down on her bed with a sigh, limbs spread out as she stared at the ceiling of her pod, a nervous energy hummed in all of her veins, crackling and stinging with the need to do something. Poppy’s head fell to the side as she considered her crafts table. Maybe scrapbooking would calm the fire in her paws?

Ughhhh, this was way too much worrying! Worrying was Branch’s thing, because at least he knew how to turn his worrying into something productive! When Poppy tried that, she ended up worrying all over again once she was done. She kicked her feet and huffed, glaring up at the ceiling. Maybe if she worried hard enough, Branch would just show up and this whole worrying thing could be done with!

With a groan, Poppy rolled off her bed and stood, stretching for a moment before going over to her crafts table. She sat down, flicking on the radio with her tail as she contemplated what to scrapbook. The radio was a recent acquisition, custom-made by Rhythm and Blues for her last birthday. A song that Poppy hadn’t heard before was playing, upbeat melody drifting into the background as she opened her current scrapbook. Well, it was one of her current scrapbooks, set right between the one she started to chronicle Branch’s disappearance and the one about Rock Troll agriculture that she had been working on and off on. But the scrapbook before her was her current Feelings Scrapbook: a place to work out everything she felt. It didn’t need to be organized, or follow a story—she cut fabric into shapes and drew nonsense lines with glitter glue, pushing pieces together and making something purely for the sake of it.

The radio continued to play, the song having ended. An ad segment started, making Poppy’s tail lash in minor annoyance. Ugh, maybe she could shift to a different station until the adbreak ended—

Wait.

That—

Poppy’s eyes widened. She set down her scrapbooking supplies, not even bothering to tidy up her workspace as she put her full attention on the radio. That was—

Poppy stood, and ran for the door of her pod.

+=+=+=+=+

“Sooooo what’d you drag us all the way up here for?” John Dory asked, pulling himself up to Poppy’s doorpetal with his hair. Floyd came up behind him, mostly-recolored hair pulling him up with no visible strain. He’d really come far, these past weeks—he could go for a lot longer without getting exhausted!

Poppy brought them inside without preamble. John Dory tracked in dirt as he went, not even bothering to wipe off his feet on the mat like Floyd was currently doing. Poppy didn’t care. The radio was still playing, right there next to her crafts table, on the same station she had left it on. “Listen.” She said, as the current song came to an end and, thankfully, an adbreak started instead of the next song.

John Dory listened for all of two seconds before frowning. “It’s a radio.” He said. “I don’t see what this has to do with any—”

“Just listen!” Poppy insisted. The ads were playing out in roughly the same order as before, which meant the ad they needed to hear was coming up. Indeed, the ad about stage makeup ended, and the next ad began, the speaker talking at a rapid clip.

“Hey ho! Tired of single-genre shows for single genre venues? Looking to hear some new talent on stage? Then you’re in luck! Come see Robin Lily LIVE on his tour throughout the genres! Hear music from all corners of the world, including the new hit single ‘Candy’!” A clip of music started playing, the abrupt start making it clear that it was taken from the middle of a song. “Hey, ho! Here she goes! Either a little too high or a little too low! Got no self-esteem and vertigo, ‘cause she thinks she’s made of candy!” The clip cut off there, the rest of the ad playing out, but—

It was unmistakable.

“That’s Branch!” Floyd gasped, his tail thumping against the ground. “That’s—that’s him singing!”

“What in the world is he doing?” John Dory put his paws on his hips, giving the radio a consternated look. “Running off on his own without telling anyone? Is he really that immature?”

Poppy shot John Dory a look, then decided to ignore it. He and Branch were still getting to know each other, after all. Instead, she pushed forwards. “The next concert is tomorrow, right?” She looked at John Dory. “Can Rhonda get us to Garden Grove Theatre by then?”

John Dory grinned, tail waving behind him. “Uh, yeah, of course she can!” He turned to leave, reaching up for his goggles. “C’mon, let’s get going!”

“Wait!” Floyd interjected, gripping the head of his cane. “Aren’t we going to tell Bruce and Clay?” With Bruce back at Vaycay Island and Clay hopping between Hole ‘N Fun and Trollstopia on a regular basis, it would probably take a while for the news to reach them, and even longer for everyone to convene at Trollstopia. It was a valid concern, but Poppy already had that handled.

“We’ll send them crittermail on the way!” She grabbed Floyd’s paw in her own, waiting until he squeezed back before she started to pull him along. “C’mon, we got a concert to catch!”

“Hair yeah we do!” John Dory whooped, already making his way down the tree, goggles over his eyes. With a grin, Poppy followed him down, Floyd following her down with a yelp and a startled laugh.

Now she could say she’d find Branch by the end of the week—and she intended to! He wasn’t getting away from her that easily!

If only the worry trickling down her fur could agree and go away.

[waywardsalt]

i think elden ring will always be my favorite game in terms of environment. every area is so impressive, even the copy-paste stuff manages to be impressive with atmosphere, and the amount of just. stunning-looking locations is wild especially with how natural even the most amazing looking shot you can find is.

just the fact that you unavoidably see this when you walk into leyndell is incredible. one of my favorite environment views in all of the games ive ever played

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[savage-rhi]

Fuschia/Magenta?

[rationalisms]

hi. i would just like to say that this is an attitude i've seen around increasingly often and i find it deeply baffling. like, genuinely could not relate any less to what is being expressed here.

personally, almost all media i'm obsessed with and talk about constantly is because i think it's good and i love talking about the ways in which it's good. yes, criticism can be fun and breed conversation, but so can positive critique. thoughtful, long-lasting engagement with a piece of media doesn't have to be negative. there are in fact ways for media to be good beyond "competent but generally unremarkable"?

and this is ymmv, but complaining about something is more the snack food of media criticism for me. it's fun and great in the moment and it absolutely is something i need to do regularly to feel normal. but i can't live off it. i need to experience genuine appreciation and esteem on a regular basis too, or i shrivel like a raisin. (expressed more seriously: the kind of critique i find actually nourishing in the sense that it allows me to refine what kind of art i would like to make, and what makes me tick as a human being, is the positive kind about media i love very much for being excellent.)

idk guys. is it just that i'm autistic and therefore discussing for the nth time why xyz rules never stops being entertaining? what am i missing here. maybe it's good when media is good?

[riddlerosehearts]

i know it's past halloween when i'm posting this, but as a vildia shipper i've been thinking a lot about what vil and idia would do together for halloween--ignoring the existence of the halloween event that we already have--and since i imagine them getting together post-book 6, when ortho has joined the film club and idia is trying to be a better brother to him and be less of a shut-in overall, i think it's a lot of fun to imagine the two of them taking him trick-or-treating!!

i think ortho has tried to get idia to take him trick-or-treating before, but every year idia always says no because he thinks going around to a bunch of rando's houses to get candy is scary, lame, and pointless (they can literally just buy candy at the store, after all!) and he has too many special halloween events to play in his video games anyway. so one day during a film club meeting a few weeks before halloween, ortho offhandedly mentions this, saying he's always wished idia would take him trick-or-treating, and vil decides to talk to idia about it. it actually doesn't take much for idia to agree that yes, it is wrong of him to stay in his room all day when his little brother wants to spend time with him on a holiday, and he absolutely should do it this year, no matter how nervous the thought of it makes him.

he asks vil to come with them, and vil initially says no because as much as he enjoys the aesthetic of halloween, he has a certain reputation and image as a celebrity that does not include doing such childish activities at the age of 18. but idia gets him to change his mind by convincing him that, actually, a lot of his fans would love to see photos and videos of him taking a little kid trick-or-treating because it would be gap moe! a term which vil understands without explanation thanks to idia--and he can see how such a thing just might actually be good for his image, simply by making him seem less otherworldly and unrelatable. so, he agrees, and the three of them spend the next several weeks trying to make their costumes absolutely perfect.

they really go all out, and they have a ton of fun with it. idia's costume has a mask that he keeps on at pretty much all times, so that keeps him from being nearly as nervous as he thought he'd be... except for when ortho gets so excited that he tries to just blast off from house to house without him or vil. but, he and vil both are incredibly happy to see that ortho is so happy, and throughout the night idia's ego gets inflated from all the compliments the three of them get on their costumes, and he and vil constantly exchange snarky comments under their breath about the quality and craftsmanship, or lack thereof, of the costumes and decorations they come across. they collect tons of candy and idia makes sure to add a special attachment to ortho's gear to allow him to actually eat it. vil started thinking he was too old for trick-or-treating a long time ago, but he ends up being pretty glad he went, especially when he sees all of the positive reactions from his fans on magicam.

i also think that before and after the trick-or-treating, ortho would hang out and do halloween stuff with his fellow first years while idia and vil take some time for themselves! the first thing they would do is that idia would introduce vil to one of his favorite survival horror video games, one that has a 2-player co-op mode, and vil might take a bit to get the hang of it but would ultimately really enjoy playing the game with idia.

later at night, they cuddle up and have a bit of a halloween movie marathon. based on idia's love of pumpkin hollow, he's definitely into horror movies, and i also think vil is as well, since he was directing a gothic horror for the film club in silver's PE uniform vignette and then based pomefiore's halloween costumes on gothic horror aesthetics. so, vil would get idia to watch his favorite classic gothic horror film, idia would force vil to watch pumpkin hollow (which vil did not think he would enjoy based on idia's description of its story, but by the end, while he still found it a bit silly, he was able to admire its craftsmanship and creativity and see why idia loved it so much), and then they decide to wind down and watch something more lighthearted. they pick howl's moving castle and idia compares howl to vil several times during the movie, which vil briefly gets annoyed by but then uses as an opportunity to tease idia back.