#they go through the AIRPORT

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

PD-MDZS: The Hallmark Episode.

[happi-dreams]

Okay I see alot of fellow pocoyo fans freaking out as well (as they should because WHAT)

But I really want to ramble about how *silly* this episode is

So uhhh spoilers for pocoyo of all things if you wish for the full ‘what in the goddamn’ experience

So I believe this episode happened because the people who make pocoyo collaborated with another company to make a cool episode together, and so they made a season 4 finale for the series

Now with the episode itself, it starts off pretty normal with Pocoyo saying that he was bored or something of the sorts which then had the narrator talk about this mythic tale about finding the dragon’s tail and being able to fly and touch clouds while being completely dry! ( all neat and riddle-y )

Then all the characters (except pato) immediately want to go on this trip and you may be wondering,

oh wow how did they actually get into the real world???

.

THROUGH THE AIRPORT OF COURSE :D

Which this brings up alot of questions in my tism head because, I feel like generally it was thought of that Pocoyo Land was a completely different place compared to the real world or like some people theorise, an imaginary place in Pocoyo’s head.

But them literally just flying there makes it canon that; Pocoyo Land is just — another place on earth in this cartoon?? And it’s just for some reason completely white and has no logical sense??

Like i thought they would take the vammoosh to go to the real world because of how silly Pocoyo’s place is but no! No they just use a plane and bam! Real world!!

Okay so now they’re in the real world which, one has amazing lighting on all the characters and just looks spectacular and makes me wish that Pocoyo could have a genuine movie with these kinds of graphics but anyways—

Now for most of the episode (which is also the normal 8 minutes) they just go from place to place while the dragon sorta looms around in the background with them going through the desert and on mountains and through woods (all of which look amazing and my art brain wants to eat it)

But this brings me to the SECOND holy god moment

PATO HAS CANONICAL COUSINS IN THIS EPISODE????

I think they’re all based on actual birds in the reigion the characters are in but STILL?? THE SUDDENNESS OF IT ALL????

Never would I think that the main crew would actually get some other family members but lookit that! Pato has some silly cousins!

They don’t do much actually — narrator just asks them where the dragon is and they all put signs in completely different directions because they’re silly

So then they go up some mountainous area and Pocoyo starts hearing the heartbeat of the dragon and gets really excited, meanwhile Pato who has been consistently terrified or nervous this trip goes and trips on a rock which causes him to fall off! But it’s alright because he has an umbrella-duex-machina

Which then leads them all the way to the shore of the island, where they are standing on a rocky area of land — but oh wait, this isnt a rocky area of land— it’s the dragon’s tail that they had to find in order to find the dragon!

The dragon that looks like this!!

Personally it looks a bit off to me but I won’t complain too much; it’s a children’s cartoon of all things I’m talking about here with it ending with them all being friends and yayyyy dragon(-ness because apparently it’s a girl) go weee!!

As an episode as a whole this is both the same kind of content; of pocoyo being faced with a challenge and eventually fixing it at the end but it’s just visually so different that i’m surprised there hasn’t been as much promotion for it like — at all

The only way I found the existence of this episode was from a trailer posted years ago on youtube when I was browsing for some pocoyo episodes, not even the english fandom wiki for this episode has any information on it. Only being a transcript of the dialogue for this episode — however the Spanish one has way more info?? Which I suppose makes sense since Pocoyo originated from there. ( I recommend checking it out, it’s way more in depth about the details of this episode as a whole )

Overall this entire episode is amazing and so silly as pocoyo rightfully should be all the time

Hey hi local ceo of pocoyo here

WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME THE SEASON 4 FINALE OF POCOYO LOOKED LIKE THIS??

[hyunpic]

240629

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together. 

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this. 

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow. 

“please, please,”  he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.” 

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,”  he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—”  his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain. 

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray. 

please, please tell me it’ll be okay. 

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time. 

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.  

“— just wake up, beloved.” 

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere. 

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—” 

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?  

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.” 

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you. 

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities. 

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things. 

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person. 

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away. 

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’ 

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.” 

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long. 

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play. 

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones. 

a wish that you’d come back, somehow. 

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did.  but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you. 

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

 he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.”  kaveh calls his name softly.

 alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,”  he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.” 

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

[majiburger]

we might not have much in this cruel world, but at least we'll always have kagami airport love confession

[crossdressingdeath]

The offhand reveal that Nico casually keeps bits of human bone on him just in case (and also he can shape those bits of bone into things like keys) lives in my head rent-free. He needs to get into a locked garden so he just pulls a human fingerbone out of his pocket so he can shape it into a key and based on Will's non-reaction this is not unusual behaviour for him. This is a thing. Nico has human bones on him at all times just in case he needs them. It is now a canon part of his character that he does this. I love it.

[jinxedshapeshifter]

I still can't believe there's a way to get Klavier to admit he's had to go through airport security "practically naked" before and that's one of the driving factors to me doing a third playthrough of Apollo Justice

[raceweek]

timeline of alexs’ complex of missing races where it starts with when he broke his collarbone in gp2 and he nearly got back in the car two weeks after surgery but wasn’t declared fit so sirotkin replaced him for one race at baku and he was jokingly posing with his fia fit to race certificate on instagram when he was back at the next round but then rapidly descending into the (maybe real maybe psychological) realisation that when sirotkin crashed he damaged the chassis which led to alex arguing with the team about how the car wasn’t right for the rest of the year and ending the season with no seat lined up for next year but then fighting and calling and fighting more and getting another chance but then there’s the fact they might kick him out at any moment and he has to wait until the middle of the week to see if the car is still his for another race or if they’ve found someone to replace him and then finally when he’s shown he can fight for the championship they say okay it’s yours and even though he’s getting doors slammed in his face about next year it’s fine because he has a seat now and then fast forward several other dramatic incidents to two years later and he’s being dropped by red bull and he’s repeatedly explaining how painful it is for him to have to go to every race without racing and he couldn’t watch and it killed him and he’s nearly crying in interviews eighteen months later just talking about it and then he’s back and it’s good and it’s been a few months of struggle but now it’s monza and it’s the teams best chance for good points and everyone else has penalties so he’s contemplating doing qualifying anyway with an appendix that’s like. mid rupture or whatever. and then someone sensible says okay let’s not do that so he lets it go from his tightly clenched fists and then not only does he nearly die - which he has the gall to describe as not a big deal - but the guy in HIS car does well and doctors are having to turn off the race bc he’s watching it from his hospital bed and everyone is talking about the guy who replaced him racing in HIS car again in the next race and okay so he has like half a lung and won’t be anywhere close to 100% for months and months and it’s the toughest race of the year and he has only done it once three years ago but he’ll put his body through quite literal never given patrick a ten on the pain scale but he’s giving him a ten now hell because he’s just not missing another race. anyway happy 77th race in f1 to alex

[tinyfantasminha]

Omg valentines trip date ???!

[impossiblepluto]

Jack strolls into the house, heading immediately for the kitchen, and continuing the animated conversation that occupied the entire drive over. That he was alone in the car and upon entrance has gained an audience doesn't break his stride-- pace or verbal deluge. Mac's a smart guy, he'll pick up the topic and register his opinions-

Within the depths of the fridge, Jack stops short, bumping the back of his head as he quickly backs up, straightening, and staring intently into the living room.

Sitting on the sofa, Mac stares back. 

Jack crosses his arms as the refrigerator door swings closed. "What's wrong?"

Mac's gaze darts around the room as though searching for whatever raised Jack's hackles, before returning to Jack. "What do you mean?"

"Something's wrong." Jack takes a step toward the living room. He too scans the room, though his stare is slower, piercing and precise before lingering on Mac. 

"Something's wrong?" Mac repeats with an air of skepticism.

"Yeah. Why are you repeating me?"

Mac scoffs. "I'm not repeating you." Before Jack can retort, Mac shakes his head and continues. "I'm trying to figure out how you can walk in here, distracted by an argument you were waging against yourself, yet still apparently losing, barely look around and declare that something is wrong.” 

"Oh ho,” Jack leans a shoulder against the wall. “You are good."

"I'm good? Wait. No. I'm still not repeating." Mac squeezes the bridge of his nose. "I am just sitting here."

"Yeah,” Jack’s brow furrows. He straightens, feeling the pieces of the puzzle beginning to come together like he’s that one French detective from the movies Bozer makes them watch, and steps into the living room. “You’re sitting. On the couch."

"That is why I brought it. It's not just for you to sleep on."

"Sitting on the couch like a normal person sits on the couch. Not sprawled across it like a teenager with limbs askew in all directions just begging for back pain and bad posture.” 

Mac snorts but it lacks amusement. He doesn’t rise to the usual ‘tease Jack about getting old’ bait like he normally would. 

“So, you want to tell me what’s up?” Jack sits on the old trunk which doubles as a coffee table. 

"I... " Mac sighs and splices together three or four words under his breath.

Jack squints, tipping one ear closer to Mac, trying to decipher the mangled phrase. “Say again?” 

Looking up, Mac enunciates, "I tweaked my knee."

Jack winces. "Trail running? I told you you need some better shoes if you're gonna be out there jumping over logs and scaling mountains."

"I wasn't trail running." Mac pauses between his words as though each one is painfully eking out.

Jack cants his head.

"I stood up wrong."

Jack's face twitches. He's a government agent, damn it. He's got a better poker face than this.

"Shut up," Mac glowers.

"I'm sorry." Jack swallows his emotions. It’s not amusement. He’s not sure what emotion he would call it, but it’s sure not amusement. He’d never find anything funny about Mac getting injured. If anything, this emotion is concern. “You stood up... wrong?"

“It’s not funny.”

“No. It’s not funny. I’ve been sitting here thinking it’s not funny,” Jack defends himself. 

“You’re smirking.”

“I’m not smirking. I wouldn’t smirk if I heard you got hurt.”

“Even if I hurt myself by standing up weird?” 

“No.” 

“Oh. Thought maybe you’d see this as some sort of payback.”

“You mean for the fifteen years I’ve spent sharing my wisdom with you and you ignore it because you’re young and your joints still work like they’re supposed to and you couldn’t imagine waking up one day and suddenly something as simple as standing up can leave you limping and hobbling around for the rest of the day?” 

“Yeah.”

“Nah.” 

“Oh okay. Thought maybe it would be something like that.” 

“And I could see how you might think that. A less sensitive, empathetic man might.” 

Mac hums. 

“You need an ice pack?” 

“I’ve been thinking about getting one.” Mac sighs, looking toward the kitchen. “Don’t want to try getting up yet though.”

“Do you need a doctor?”

“No.”

Jack eyes him carefully.

“I did think about it-” Mac hurries to continue as Jack stares harder. “I want to wait it out. If I’m wrong you can gloat.” 

“I wouldn’t gloat either.” 

“Right. No smirking. No gloating. Got it. I’ll remind you.” 

Jack stands, knees creaking. “No smirking from over there either.” 

“No smirking.” Mac winces in sympathy at the sound. 

Jack pats Mac’s shoulder as he passes. 

“You were like my age when we met.” 

“Huh, I guess so. About a year older.” Jack grabs an ice pack from the freezer and returns to the living room. 

“I remember thinking you were ancient.” Mac reaches out to accept the proffered ice pack.

“Hey!” Jack withdraws his hand before the exchange is made.  

“At twenty-one you seemed old. Listening to the way you groaned when you got out of the humvee, that seemed a whole lot older than I feel now. Or at least older than I felt this morning.”

Jack nods in concession as he settles on the couch next to Mac and passes over the ice pack. Mac claps it on his knee. With a groan he raises his leg and positions it on a pillow.

“One day you’re able to sit all curled up like a pretzel, and the next you sneeze and can’t turn your neck for three weeks.” 

“I am almost sorry I teased you all these years.”

“Almost?”

“Well, I mean, compared to me you’re still like ancient. I have a few good years of teasing before it comes back to bite me.”

Jack opens his mouth to protest, then purses his lip. “You know, I’d grab that ice pack and run but honestly, watching you try to move that leg makes me hesitant to try it.” 

“It wasn’t fun.”

“Didn’t look like it was. Last thing we need is to explain to Matty how the both of us got taken out getting up from the couch.” 

Mac flops back on the sofa, blond hair splaying against the cushions. He drops his arm across his eyes. “That’s going to be almost as much fun as moving my leg.”

“I don’t envy that.” Jack leans forward with a grunt and scoops up the remote control. “Die Hard?”

Mac shrugs, eyes still covered by his arm. “Might as well. Don’t think I’m moving for a bit.” 

“Yippee-ki-yay.”

[rileys-battlecats]

was trying to figure out why I feel so Wrong rn and I think it's because I didn't follow my usual daily routine like At All and now my brain is freaking out. woke up at a vastly different time, had entirely different tasks throughout the day, took a nap at a weird time (to make up for the fact I had about 3 hours of sleep last night), zero human contact for the past 15 hours, and ate different food from usual (various leftovers from social events/thanksgiving, instead of cooking for myself like normal). and before I really realized that these were all things that were Bad For My Brain I was just wandering around my house like "why do I feel like garbage?? I've literally been outside so much today my brain should be happy"

ANYWAY here's to me not remembering I have issues with unstructured living because my days have been so similar for the past 4ish years that I straight up Forgot that things being too different too fast makes me crazy ✌️

[hyunpic]

DAILY HYUNJIN GIFS UNTIL HIS BDAY: love you and all your little things - the airport is your runway

[antiadvil]

Literally lying in bed like wow I should have gotten Antwerp tickets. Girl what do you mean. You live in the American Midwest and if you don’t take 2.5mg of THC every night you start to feel like someone is scraping paint off the inside of your skull. Do not get on a fucking plane

[longagoitwastuesday]

ngl it sort of pisses me off the way adults regard Gojo in Jujutsu Kaisen at times. Which could be a very interesting and poignant point in a good way if well written, but as it is it becomes mainly just frustrating and sad in a negative way.

Nanami saying Gojo never cared about anything or anyone other than himself crashes interestingly with Kusakabe saying the whole situation was just all his fault because he refused to kill Itadori. The students are very aware of those aspects of Gojo's personality, but overall they seem to regard him with way more kindness and fondness even when at their rudest, not truly coinciding with either Nanami's or Kusakabe's views.

[darsynia]

Today's sky was breathtaking and fleeting--and slightly similar to my current project!

[sevenfactorial]

I forgot just how liminal and terrible the weeks between Thanksgiving and winter break are. Definitely not an aspect of school I missed...