#and then ploof

[montereybayaquarium]

Peek-a-floof, pufflings!

We’re egg-cited to welcome the newest additions to our tufted puffin colony! These two fluffy puffin chicks (a.k.a. pufflings!) recently hatched here as part of a Species Survival Plan managed by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums that oversees the health and breeding of nearly 200 tufted puffins across 15 zoos and aquariums.

The adorable, fuzzy voids will grow up on exhibit, assisted by our un-beak-lievable aviculture and veterinary teams. You can peek at these precious pufflings among the diving birds in the Open Sea. It might be a little hard to spot them inside their burrows and they’ll be heading behind the scenes for a little while soon.  But don’t worry! They’ll be back on exhibit once they’re fully fledged. 

Chick #2’s name is… Yuzu! But we need your kelp naming Chick #1! Our animal care team has picked three options and we’re asking YOU to help us choose the perfect name by voting in the poll! ⬇️

[to-be-spared]

something about how it's easier for fadel to conceptualize that he must not be enough

[leclercskiesahead]

Unserious man

[eryanlainfa]

Anyway- silly Mystic Realm headcanon comic planning I'll never finish because too many panels and its still not all of em yet 😭

[normalabby]

@sonicthehonic

I spent like 5 hours editing this gif frame by frame to make this shitty edit that I wanted to exist

[gettingready2read]

Paint with Ploof by Ben Clanton & Andy Chou Musser

Ploof the cloud is going to paint a rainbow for the first time and needs some help!

Children will love this interactive book that explores shapes, colors, and handling disappointment. While reading the story, point out the different shapes and colors you see. Ask your child to name them to help practice their vocabulary.

Some pages of this book have sound effects and additional text on the page. Make sure you point these out to your child to help with print awareness, which means noticing the letters and words that are all around us.

Expand the Book with a Rainbow Fan Craft

Supplies Needed:

blank paper

coloring supplies such as crayons, markers, or paint

glue

paperclip (optional)

Use your coloring supplies to make rainbow stripes on each side of your paper, and accordion fold the whole piece.

Fold your accordion in half and glue the center together.

Use the paperclip to hold the fan's shape.

Grown ups may need to help small children working on their fine motor skills, but remember, even when we make mistakes like Ploof in the story, our artwork can still be special!

Check out Paint with Ploof

[metalobrukht]

You all DO NOT fucking understand.

A “what did I do-o-o-o 😭😭😭 I'm just a little guy, I'm apolitical, what do you want from me-e-e-e 😭😭😭😭” russian is not a “good” russian. It is a product of russian propaganda they've got going on inside the country. It is what they've been brainwashed to think like. Their government feeds them contradicting lies and punishes for speaking up, so they sit quietly, not even wanting to learn about Kursk.

They went on a protest when there was no electricity due to infrastructure damage. They went on a protest abroad when a russian nazi singer got blocked on Spotify. Why don't they protest the war while living in Britain? Why do they either not give a fuck or attack Ukrainians abroad? It is THEIR choice to see Chechnya, Georgia, Ukraine, Syria and then ploof on their backs receive belly scratches that Western folk happily provides.

They don't engage, then visit Crimea in the summer and run in complete bewilderment with tears on their faces when there's a bomb. What war? They're apolitical, guys. How could you? What did they do? Of coooourse they can call a Ukrainian a cowshed animal and still be apolitical (in russian of course, so you, their western friend, don't think bad of them). They can mock any language that got trapped under the empire however they please and not notice any oppressive undertones. You all did not hear what they think about Belarussian or Ukrainian — NOT when they're confronted, but when they speak in their space and in their language.

Image 1, “Dead languages of russia”

Image 2, “Guess why the fuck there are so many nationalities in ruzzian empire and why is that their culture is being erased. A bonus question: by whom? An extra hard question: do ordinary russians think that these people have the same social status as them? Do they think that some nationalities are subhuman?”

Of course they call for “peace”, because, you see, war is bad, because fuck the war! — because it's a surface-area nice thing they can say to get friends, because they're too “pure” to follow up with “they should give up so the killings stop giving me a bad reputation and I DO NOT GIVE A SINGLE SHIT about death when it's not on my Twitter feed”.

I know what a Westerner would think about this. At the very, very best, literally peak compassion I've met maybe twice, it would be: “Damn this is xenophobic, but I bet they're going through a lot right now, so I won't tell them that they're wrong”. And the funny thing is that I am not wrong. They're just nice to you, because your nation is not the funny one that belongs in the stables. If they're an opposition, they just want a better russia, not a free Ukraine.

And I'm talking about “leftists” here (not sure if it's the correct term, like, politically), the ones being befriended and cherished online. Shit the openly genocidal ones produce, which are many, is far beyond Western comprehension.

[tomfowlery]

Pipe and Ploof: Freelance Hellions (Collab with @/ploofy_doofy on Instagram)

[plottwiststudios]

Meet Newcomer Xicanna Ferage.

Instead of giving you a light spoiler of her personality and relationships, here's a substantially more telling list of people who like her and dislike her:

Likes Her: Xobi, technically

Dislikes Her: The entire core cast, Anxellica's Entire Group, Yaxata, Yexa, Claire, ploofs

Kickstarter Pre-Launch Link

[somegrumpynerd]

Hiii, I'm here with some french onomatopoeias or onomatopées if you will because I think it's fun.

Ow, or ouch is Aïe or ouïe in french, also 'aïe aïe aïe' is like a way to say like 'oof big bad thing but not of incredible importance or maybe kinda cringy happened' so like if somebody fell off their bike, or maybe your friend just told a girl a very stupid thing.

Also, jumping into water is ploof, not splash which just sounds very funny to me.

That's all I have for the moment enjoy

PLOOF!!!!

Oh I love that, that's the most incredible word of all time, I want to add that to the list of names for if me and my sister ever get a cat lol

I like aïe too, now that I know how it's pronounced I feel like I've heard people say that before, I never realised it was french!! :o

I love little bonus french lessons, thank you!! ^^

ALSO!!!!!

Hiiii hello!! :D I hope the guests visiting went well, unless they're still there in which case I hope it's going well!!

[greyspirehollow]

Vesuvia Weekly ; Where... do these stairs go?

Pairings : Liam (my mc) x Quaestor Valdemar - Platonic

Fandom : The Arcana visual novel

Warnings : Plague years, wipeeee 💥; beetles maybe ; human corpses/bodyparts ; sickness everywhere ; spooky spooks scares scary (so horror, if I write it correctly) ; sick people ; vomitting ; gore

Summary : Working in the dungeons is something alright. Even more so when there's literally a room no one ever goes to, not even the head physician of the palace...

The Plague was ravaging Vesuvia. Doctors came and went, hurried through rows of beds and operation tables, bumping into each other. It was, sadly, rather normal. Sounds of loud coughing and retching echoed through the dungeons’ halls... Music to the Quaestor’s ears. Boxes of instruments were moved around, from one desk to a table, doctors shouted at nurses and nurses shouted at doctors. The horrid air filled their nostrils and they let out a blissful sigh. Those sounds, this smell, it was almost akin to a lullaby for them. As the day came to an end, they retreated to their office, as they rubbed their hands together and got ready to count today’s victims.

The office itself was noticeably more quiet, which was somewhat appreciated, since they had to focus on writing, counting, and organizing. They flipped through the various files the doctors had slipped under their office door throughout the day, looking through the reports, causes of death and such. After writing down everything, they organized the reports in a neat pile which they then dumped in the wooden box at their feet. They stretched, their joints snapping slightly from staying sitting in the same position for too long.

They tilted their head as they heard a knock at the door. "Come in." It was strange for someone to come in at that time. Or come in at all. As the door opened, they recognized Dr.072. They stood up from their chair. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah I uh... Can’t find your trash tub?" Liam said, slightly awkward.

Ah, the trash tub. The little recipient in which they tossed whatever bodypart they were done with.

"Yes, I put it near the well this time." They replied, straightening their apron and swiftly walking out of the office, expecting Dr.072 to follow, which he did. Once they both reached the pit, Valdemar gestured to the trash tub, and Liam opened the beetle well to dump its contents inside. He watched as the various lumps of bloody flesh slipped into the well with a ploof, the skittering of the delighted red beetles feasting reaching his ears. He looked at the swarm of insects for a little while, torn between shuddering and smiling. Liam sighed and put the empty trash tub away, looking back at Valdemar, who had closely observed the trash disposal with their eerie grin, as usual.

"...Say, I have a question."

Liam said, breaking the silence.

"Mh?"

"...What’s behind that door?"

He pointed at the old, dark, small door at the very end of the operating hall.

"Mh? I don’t know, I never went there."

... Pardon? Valdemar, never having gone to one of the corners of their dungeons? That...

"What?"

They shrugged

"It never seemed important. Do you want to go check? I won’t stop you."

Liam hesitated, looking back at the door. He walked towards it, his steps resonating in the hall, as Valdemar watched, standing still in their spot. The necromancer approached the door, carefully avoiding the splats of blood and flesh on the ground. He paused, and looked it up and down. The wood was dark and dull, as if it had been smoked, nearly burned. It didn’t look very sturdy, but as Liam got a hold of the doorknob, he found himself struggling to push the door open. He took a deep breath and shoved his shoulder into the wood, and nearly tumbled forward as the door opened. He looked beyond, trying to see something in the darkness. But all he could see were stairs... Stairs leading into nothing. Little particles of ash flew before his eyes and he stood there for a second, stunned. What was this room...?

He looked at the stairs, wondering if he should go down. But as he saw the way they slowly disappeared into nothingness, he decided against it. Where could they lead...? He looked at the blackness in front of him again, trying to sense something, a hint of magic, looking for clues of someone's past presence... But he found nothing. A thin layer of dust covered each steps of the stairs, but there wasn't a single cobweb or a single beetle to be found here. He swallowed nervously. This... This wasn't good. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the fact that there seemed to be absolutely nothing in there... Bugged him. As if something was supposed to be there, but it wasn't anymore, long gone, vanished eons ago, out of reach for his mortal mind...

He swallowed thickly. This... Whatever this was, was wrong. And yet he couldn't bear to look away. As if he was stuck in place, bound to be frozen in place as those stairs and the mysterious room ahead were.

"Should we go down?"

Liam gasped loudly and flinched as he heard Quaestor Valdemar's voice right next to his ear. He tried his best to calm back down, looking between them and the stairs.

"... Are we supposed to?" He inquired, making the surgeon's head tilt.

"Whatever do you mean? Are you trying to say we are forbidden from entering this place?"

Liam paused, and looked back at the eerie staircase. They weren't... Wrong. He did feel as if he wasn't supposed to go down. But why, if there was nothing there...?

"..."

Valdemar's gaze looked at the stairs too. They paused, contemplating what was before them, a mix of curiosity and resilience swelling in their chest. They couldn't tell what was down there, and that was curious. But at the same time, if they of all people couldn't guess what was there, then maybe there was nothing to see. Or... There was something, but they or Dr.072 weren't allowed to know. What a puzzling dilemma... Finally something interesting.

They quietly debated in their mind for a while, just as Liam did. They both stood in front of the eerie staircase, unsure of what to do.

"... You know what? Let's not. That would be a waste of time."

"Yes, I believe it would."

Both agreed to close the door and go about Vesuvia's plague business as they were supposed to. The mysterious room, however, had now a place in the back of Valdemar's mind... As time went on, they found themselves more, and more, and more curious. They decided to go in. What were they risking, anyway?

When all the doctors had left the dungeons, they stood in front of the ominous staircase again, and, one step at a time, went down. Their silhouette was progressively engulfed by the darkness, and their eyes got used to the obscurity. There was almost quite literally nothing but barren, dusty, grey and ash-colored walls, and the staircase was exactly 55 steps - they'd counted, just in case -. They reached a cube-like empty room, and looked around attentively, trying to find little clues, such as things carved in the brick walls, or buttons, or any kind of thing that stood out and could give them an answer. All they found was a small, metallic gear on the floor. They crouched down and picked it up to inspect it.

They felt a strange sensation in their hands, a faint hum of... Energy, or something similar. They looked at the gear attentively, trying to comprehend what this thing was and what it was doing there... But they couldn't figure it out. This... Was probably the strangest thing. They could feel it - the object almost vibrating, its energy trying to come into contact with their mind, but failing. It was like dipping one's head underwater or standing in the breeze, a faint flow, a glimpse, a snipet from a realm they didn't know of. Whatever the object, and who or what was attached to it, was trying to communicate, it failed. It just couldn't reach them, no matter how much it tried.

After a while of unsuccessful attempts at discovery, they sighed, and decided to go back up. They put the gear down, and took the stairs back up to the dungeons...

The following day, they decided to talk about their discovery to Dr.072, only to be met with confusion on his part.

"What staircase?"

They were even more confused by the fact he didn't seem to remember, and briefly checked if it wasn't some symptom of illness but... He was completely fine. No magical or physical traces of modifications on his body or in his mind, no sickness no fever...

And when they went back to the staircase, they were met with a simple wall, as if it had simply never been there.

beetle dividers by @kodaswrld

[sootchild]

What’s Abigail’s hair care routine that keeps her tail all poofy like that? What does she use?

She washes her fur as needed and uses hair picks to get that ploof.

[pigeonstab]

PIDGE I have a super important french question, extremely serious and life or death importance

What's the french word for bark? Or like any kind of animal noise I guess :oc

(Also I told my sister about ploof and she also really loves it, friendship ended with splash, ploof is my onomatopoeia now)

Hahah, that's Ouaf. Usually ouaf ouaf, said waf.

Cluck cluck (chicken) is cotte cotte said Kot

Ribbit is croa croa said Krwa

Ummm meow is miaou, said meeyaoo lol if that makes sense

Moo is meuh which is said like muhhh

For pigs we usually do like a weird inhale but groin groin also works which, you don't have nasal sounds so you're gonna have to look that one up

And that's about it? If you have any you think of lmk

[fjordfolk]

ploof

[saulgoodwoman6]

What too much Vanoss does to a mf

I've watched way too much Vanoss back then to the point i can quote a lot of things in his videos "CHIPOTLE!!!" "PUNCAKE!" "BULLET PLOOF GRASS!" "Banana Bus!" "HOODINI"

[hazel-of-sodor]

Something Holy This Way Comes

Ch.2 Secrets

Other Stories

Other Chapters

Progress on the restoration of the Glain route was progressing quickly with the extra engines. They had reached a small farming village named Tawel, high on the cliff overlooking the sea. Seagulls lined the cliff edge, crying angrily at Screech's presence. One started hopping towards her. Screech opened an eye to stare at the bird. The gull stopped for a moment, but then hopped forward again while looking the giant in the eye.

Thwack

The seagull's flock turned to watch it sail away towards the ocean.

"Screech!" Mali said admonishingly from the station platform

Screech closed her eye.

 "The skyrat should have known better." She said lazily.

The seagull returned and landed on Screech's snowplow, squawking in indignation.

Screech eyed the bird in irritation.

Mali giggled.

 Screech slowly scooped up a pile of snow with her tendrils. The seagull failed to notice the tendrils moving until it was too late.

ploof

 The seagull's head popped up from the snow angrily. 

Screech rumbled in satisfaction. Miss Morgan exited the old station, stopping to take in the sight.

"I see you're getting along with the locals." She said amused.

Screech flicked a tendril at the seagull who hopped over it with a squawk.

Screech glared.

"Any progress with getting a new engine?" Mali asked, hoping to distract Screech before she gave into the whisper's urging to unmake the bird.

Miss Morgan nodded, "Yes, finally. We're negotiating for an engine from the Western Region. They're supposed to arrive middle of next year."

"So long?" Screech asked without looking away from the gull.

"The engine is being sent for overhaul at Swindon," Morgan explained. "They will come here once overhauled and we'll have a chance to buy them if we're satisfied."

"You know they will try something to sabotage the trial."

Miss Morgan locked eyes with the eldritch giant, "which is why you will be watching over our new engine when they arrive."

A smirk slowly dawned on Mali's face, "They don't know about Screech."

The whisper cackled.

Miss Morgan's grin was predatory, "No they don't. I suspect the only reason they are sending the new engine is to find out what's changed on our railway. Before her arrival, we were struggling to keep the trains running."

"And when they find out about me?"

"That's the best part," Morgan smirked, "they'll never believe it. It doesn't matter if their spy sees you, according to their records you were scrapped."

"Because I was." 

Freda spoke up from the cab, "Normally that would mean you were dead. Not on a distant railway with reality-breaking abilities."

"Technically I am dead."

Gwyn snorted, "You're awfully solid for a ghost." He said, rapping his knuckles on the side of her tender.

Screech looked back, unimpressed. "I was cut into pieces by burning axes before those pieces were melted back into raw metal. The fact death failed to drag me beyond does not mean I am alive."

"I would think that's exactly what it means."

Screech locked gazes with Mali, "Little Thief, every second I must hold back my true form or risk reducing your mind and body to ash in an instant. I am no longer of this world, I am of the beyond. Your very being is unable to withstand the true weight of my presence. If I were to ever slip, you would not die, you would be unmade."

Mali swallowed nervously, "So no startling you then."

"It would be unwise."

The seagull squawked in apparent agreement.

Mali went to speak then hesitated.

"What is it, Little Thief?" Screech rumbled.

"You say you confine yourself to your physical shape..."

"Do you not believe me little one?"

Mali shuddered as her bones rattled from Screech's attention. "If that shape is confined...how large are you actually."

Screech rumbled a laugh, the sound's echoes triggering an avalanche on the nearest mountain. Her eyes burned blue as she ever so slightly relaxed her grip on her form.

"Avon is taking on water while Enid complains about her snowplow fitting awkwardly."

Miss Morgan blinked, nonplussed, "Avon should be at Din by now."

"She is."

The humans were silent for a long moment as they understood what she was saying.

Miss Morgan finally shook her head ruefully, "I suppose that keeping anything from you is a lost cause."

"Only if I know to look." Screech admitted as she shifted slightly, "It's why I didn't recognize Tyto's approach. I can only focus on so much at once, although saying my name will normally get my attention.”

Mali jumped, "Wait does that mean you know..."

"Yes," Screech said bluntly

"Oh." Mali sounded very small.

Screech rolled her eyes, "I am hardly in the habit of spilling others' secrets."

"...Thank you," Mali said quietly.

Miss Morgan raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

Gwyn looked at Screech thoughtfully, "How far can you reach if you try? say..."

"You had better not be asking one of my engines to spy on my meetings with the Other Railway." Miss Morgan said flatly.

"I don't trust them," Gwyn said seriously. "You know they want us gone. Removing you would accomplish that."

"They're not murderers Gwyn." Morgan frowned at him. 

"Screech existence says otherwise," Freda said quietly. There was an awkward silence.

"She has been in no danger." Screech finally said.

"...you were already watching." Miss Morgan sighed in resignation.

"I was."

"...thank you." 

It was quiet for a moment then Mali tentatively asked, "Any progress on the Argol line?"

"We hope to begin work on restoring the Argol Line in the spring. " Miss Morgan said, stretching, "By then Seren will be able to assist, and the first trains could be running by Autumn. They'll only go as far as the first station, but the sooner the lines open, the sooner it can help pay for its renovation.

"Will we have the engines to serve the line by then?" Freda asked.

Miss Morgan nodded, "I spoke with the North Western Region and the Chester and Holyhead board last night. The North Western is sending us another engine to help restore the old lines to Glain. Once the line is reconnected, the CH&R has promised to help run the trains until we're on our feet.

"Do they know about Screech?" Gwyn asked.

"No." Miss Morgan shook her head, "Tyto and Ceri promised to only tell Eagle. Screech will remain our ace in the hole for as long as we can manage."