#green velvet tux

[ded-and-gonne]

Image: @firstpersonnarrator

Look at all the love in those eyes.

#the green velvet tux #klaus hargreeves #robert sheehan #the umbrella academy #tua #tua s3 #the hottest rob #ded and gonne #ded & gonne #green velvet tux #location wedding #image bank klaus #image bank green velvet tux #luther’s wedding #location luther’s wedding #robert sheehan character fic #mine #my photos

[master-missysversion]

Doctors 9-13 outfits!

Finally done collecting, I've probably missed a few but I tried

9th doctor: leather jacket with; green tshirt, black tshirt, burgundy tshirt

10th doctor: Brown pinstripe suit, blue suit, brown trenchcoat, "John Smith" outfit, tuxedo, orange space suit, pyjamas, shirt without suit

(I think John smith may have had some more outfits I missed)

11th doctor: brown tweed coat, red striped shirt + suspenders + bow-tie (main series 5/6 outfit), football outfit, white tie tuxedo, green trench coat, robes ?, purple outfit (series 7 outfit), The Snowmen outfit, orange space suit

I forgot to get 11 without the purple coat

Outfits georg 12th doctor: pyjamas, homeless man's coat, other (?) Coat, red velvet coat, red-lined coat, blue lined coat + vest + blue tshirt, brown hoodie + black tshirt + red tshirt, red lined coat + white shirt + plaid trousers, spotted T-shirt, spotted shirt, burgundy shirt, blue shirt, orient express tux, "Thin Ice" regency outfit, orange space suit, black space suit, "Oxygen" space suit, shirt without coat, caretaker outfit + spotty tshirt

I actually forgot about all his deep breath outfits until i was doing 13s outfits. He wears 4 outfits in that one episode

13th doctor: grey coat with navy tshirt, red tshirt, blue tshirt, white shirt under tshirt, spotted vest, navy coat, tuxedo, grey coat with purple high-vis vest, "legend of the sea devils" outfit, usual navy outfit with the coat swapped for an apron, "power of the doctor" outfit, orange space suit

AND as im reading over this i realised I forgot a couple

Yes I'm including the scarf as an outfit variation. Be glad I didn't include the Fezzes

And ofc I forgot the most important ones until the last second:

#this took roughly 2½ hours. #it was very fun #doctor who #outfits #9th doctor #10th doctor #11th doctor #12th doctor #13th doctor #thirteenth doctor #sorry 10s is so messy- i wasnt originally planning on spending so much time on this so his were sort of thrown together 😭

[captainjunglegym]

WIP Wednesday - 10/04/2024

Hello! So i'm balls deep in og 911 atm. I've already seen seasons 1 - 4 but I'm rewatching so I can power through and be all caught up to season 7 soon.

Anyways I have been tagged by @onthewaytosomewhere @getmehighonmagic @firenati0n and @wordsofhoneydew thanks my buddies <3

I have a new silly wip I'm working on. I do have other things that are cooking but you've heard it all before so have this:

Alex works at a hotel to put himself through law school. After spending so much time at the hotel he's become somewhat of a serial wedding crasher. One day he crashes the wedding of an odd but adorable couple, George and James. Unfortunately, George's twin, Henry, catches him in the act but seems rather amused by it all.

The couple seem a bit mismatched. One man, wearing a dark green velvet tuxedo jacket that looks as expensive as it does soft, is older and red-headed. He’s sexy in the way that Alex can tell beneath his tux he’s got a strong muscled body. He’s looking at his young new husband with something akin to utter adoration. The other groom is a lot younger. Possibly in his mid-twenties as opposed to the other’s possible fifties. He’s probably the most beautiful man Alex has ever seen in his life. He’s got dark brown hair that contrasts against his porcelain skin, and the poutiest pink lips. He looks like a living doll. Alex watches them sway with one another on the dance floor as he piles more food onto his plate. They're completely enraptured by each other. Is he jealous? Maybe. He doesn’t really want to marry an old man though, even if this particular old man is quite fuckable. “Hello,” a smooth voice says next to him. Alex doesn’t look away, not really wanting to invite conversation with eye contact. Not while he's technically stealing. “Hey.” “I’ve not seen you before,” the man continues. He’s got the same crisp English accent as many of the other guests. “Are you here for George or James?” Alex winces internally but feigns nonchalance as he continues to shovel various foods onto his increasingly full plate. He hates this question and has no idea which is George and which is James and what the correct answer will be. “Uhhhh George. Yeah George, me and him go way back, you know? We’re practically brothers.” The man huffs out a laugh and Alex chances a look at him. He double-takes. The man next to him is just as gorgeous as the younger groom. Mainly because he’s identical to him, save for the blonde hair. “I’m Henry,” the man says, amused. “I’m George’s twin and the best man.” Oh fuck.

No pressure tags under cut + also open tag as always

@bigassbowlingballhead @anincompletelist @nocoastposts @sunnysideprince @eusuntgratie @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @sparklepocalypse @happiness-of-the-pursuit @magicandarchery @cactusdragon517 and anyone else who wants a go

#writing tags

[wholoveseggs]

Mistletoe

{Masterlist}

~Five days of Fluffmas~

Amidst the festivities of the Mikaelson Christmas party, Elijah captivates your attention, and Rebekah hatches a plan to assist you.

1k words - No warnings, no smut! just pure fluff.

You weaved through the crowded room, heading towards the bar. The Mikaelson Christmas party was in full swing. People mingled all around the compound, but you could barely pay them any mind. The only thing on your mind was the original vampire across the room.

Perhaps it was the Christmas lights casting a warm glow, or the alcohol flowing through your veins. Maybe it was the way the dark fabric of his tux stretched over his shoulders. Either way, you found it difficult to keep your eyes off him.

He was leaning casually on a high table, talking with Marcel. You ordered a drink from the bartender, working up the courage to approach them.

"Are you alright?" asked Rebekah, who happened to notice the dreamy look on your face.

"Hmm?" You blinked out of your daze. You grabbed the drink in front of you, taking a long sip to distract yourself.

Rebekah smirked. She knew her brother was behind that look, and it made her smile.

"Thanks for the dress," you remembered, gesturing to the ball gown she had lent you. The deep purple fabric glittered faintly, reflecting the warm colors surrounding you. She truly had impeccable fashion sense.

"Of course," she smiled, "Although, you could show up in a potato sack and my brother would be head over heels for you.”

You blushed, "I don't know about that," you said, hiding your embarrassment with another swig of your drink. "He doesn't show much interest."

At this point, you were certain he pitied you, and he was only kind to you out of some sort of obligation. You just wished that it wasn't forced between the two of you. He wasn't exactly an open book, so it was impossible for you to guess at what might be on his mind.

Rebekah chuckled, "that's just his nature; unlike Kol and Klaus, he's always been reserved," she said, "but trust me, he likes you. You just have to make the first move."

"I'm not sure that I can," you confessed, "what do I say?"

Rebekah's smile grew wide, "I have an excellent idea," she said. She looked down the bar, grabbing one of the centerpieces and tearing a piece off of it, handing it to you. "Mistletoe."

The plant was small, with tiny white berries and small green leaves, tied together with a red velvet ribbon.

"So what? Just walk up to him and hold this above his head?" You asked, incredulously.

"Well," Rebekah shrugged, "that's one way.”

You decided to swallow down your nerves and just do it. You finished off your drink and headed towards where Elijah was standing. You felt like the ground was slipping away beneath you, but you chose not to stop. At this point, you decided you didn't care. You made a fast decision, and you were sticking with it.

After all, Christmas is a time for good cheer, right?

Elijah and Marcel continued to talk as you approached them. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you knew they could probably hear it.

Marcel was the first to look up, giving you one of his signature warm and inviting smiles. Elijah took a few more seconds, his eyes snapping up to meet yours the minute he heard your heart start to beat faster.

"Uh, hi," You smiled awkwardly, completely losing the ability to speak.

Elijah returned your grin, suddenly curious as to why your heart was going so haywire. "Y/N, Merry Christmas," He greeted.

His eyes slipped down, noticing what you were holding in your hand. You panicked, moving the leaves so it was a bit more hidden behind you.

Marcel grinned as he realized what was going on. "What's that you have behind your back?" He teased.

"Don't worry about it," interjected Rebekah, arriving just in time to save you from the awkward tension. She looped her arm in Marcel's, pulling him away quickly.

With both of them gone, you were suddenly stuck, wondering what the heck to do now.

Well, you knew what to do, but you weren't sure if you would be able to.

You held the mistletoe up, a weak smile on your face as you met his eyes. All the butterflies in your stomach transformed into pure regret, and you instantly pulled the mistletoe down, shaking your head.

"You know what," you laughed, shaking your head, "sorry, this was ridiculous."

You were so embarrassed you just wanted to jump into a hole and hide forever, but before you could run away, Elijah gently grabbed your wrist. He slowly lifted your hand, extending the plant between you.

You looked at him questionably. With his other hand, Elijah caressed the side of your cheek. He stepped forward, his face suddenly a lot closer than it was before.

Slowly, he leaned in, stopping millimeters away from your mouth. He gave you time to stop it, to step away, but you didn't even consider it. You threw the mistletoe aside and threw your arms around him. Closing the space between you.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion; you could feel every breath, every move, every touch. His hand moved to the small of your back, holding you close and pressing you into his chest. His other hand weaved into your hair, cradling your neck, keeping your lips connected to his.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke apart, just slightly. Foreheads pressed together, you couldn't help but giggle at the moment that had transpired.

Elijah let out a relieved sigh, smiling at the fact that he didn't need to continue pretending. He had fallen for you a long time ago, and here you were, smiling up at him with flushed cheeks. You pressed another quick kiss to his lips, before giggling again and burying your head into his neck.

He held you tight, swaying you slightly on the spot as you finally relaxed into him.

"Merry Christmas, darling," He whispered, pressing another quick kiss to your hair.

"You want to get out of here?" You asked shyly, lifting your eyes back to his.

He pulled away, bending down to pick up the discarded mistletoe, "can I bring this?" He teased.

You smiled, taking his free hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

"Please do."

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson imagine #tvd #elijah mikealson imagine #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals x reader #the originals imagine #the originals fanfiction #elijah mikealson #christmas #rebekah mikaelson #marcel gerard #mistletoe

[insanityclause]

First... They way they look at each other 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Second... Her hand on his booty 😂😂😂 LOVE IT!!!

Third... Green velvet tux.... Rude Thomas!!! lol

All of this.

[anidiotwithfanfiction]

"How is their company still going? Who knows. They had one brain cell and they lost it at the stock market."

- cofeewithaleks on tiktok

Bright florescents hum obnoxiously, the red velvet walls encasing are starting to feel stuffy.

Nervously, the redhead preens himself in the mirror behind.

Over the top extravagance crammed in every nook and cranny. Expensive marble statues, expensive leather chairs, expensive suits and ties.

It was like everything in the building needed to wear a price tag to get in.

And Pickles could not feel more out of place.

Stuffed into his thrifted tux, he played with cheap cuffs as the elevator went up.

He really didn't know how he landed this job. His resume was far from impressive. Fired from three jobs in the last four months, he applied to this one out of delusional hoping. He was nowhere near qualified. The job required and extensive background check, random drug tests, and 5 years of experience.

And he had a good one and a half at best. From a shit job he took back when he'd just graduated high school.

The elevator dings, and he spins around to face the front. His stomach swirling, he really needs this job...

The light is blinding, pouring through drawn crimson curtains. Windows from the floor to the ceiling, like a wall of glass, illuminate the figure hunched over at a large mahogany desk. He blinks hard, and steps into the room, suddenly feeling all eyes on him.

Nervously, he clears his throat.

"Uh, hi. 'M here for tha job."

Another figure emerges as green eyes adjust.

"Welcome, ah" the man moves beside the one sat, adjusting glasses as he peers down at a stack of papers "Pickles, is it?" He glances back up and it strikes the redhead that this isn't a rhetorical question.

"Yes- sir, uh- I'm s'posed to start my training today for-"

"Security, I'm well aware. It's a pleasure to be seeing you again"

And as the man steps forward, holding out a hand, it clicks just how familiar that voice is.

"Charles, right?" He asks, nervous to get it wrong.

"Yes, you may remember me from the interview." He retracts his hand. "You made quite the impression" he looks up, as Pickles pulls his hand back. God he hoped his it wasn't too sweaty.

There's a pause, the room quiets for a moment too long and green eyes drift to the left, the shadowy man beginning to form into something tangible.

"Ah, and this is Mr. Explosion, our CEO"

A freckled hand reaches out, as he stands in front of the desk now.

"Pleasure ta meet ya sir"

Shoulder length black strands part, as mossy green eyes greet his.

He glances at the outstretched hand, before awkwardly seizing it with a grip a bit too tight.

"I told you to call me Nathan" he looks over to Charles annoyed.

The man simply rolls his eyes.

Mr. Explosion turns back to Pickles, those intimidating eyes boring into his soul.

"Call me Nathan."

"Nat'an', got it" dry lips crack a smile.

This job might not be so bad.

"So you're like, my body gaurd?"

"Not yet" Charles interrupts "we still have to train him. But yes, Mr. Explosion, he will be your body guard."

Nathan does a once over of the poor ginger again, his eyes trailing a little too long for comfort.

"Metal"

Charles simply sighs, before adressing Pickles directly.

"If you'll follow me, I can begin to show you your on shift duties."

The rest of the day goes by uneventful. For the most part anyways. Following Charles around like a lost puppy was far from interesting. But there was a moment in the breakroom that felt odd to Pickles. Even now, as he lays in his shitty little bed, he keeps thinking about it.

Everything was fine, standard "I say jump, you say how high". Learning safety protocols, the itinerary, how Nathan likes his coffee.

Straight black. No sweeteners, no creams. Just a plain Jane coffee. And though Pickles could never sip on something so tasteless, he could respect it.

But it was as they were pouring a fresh cup he noticed Charles tense up.

And it was so fast, he wasn't even sure he saw it correctly. It was like pure instinct. The redhead heard some shuffling, a few beeps, and then a metallic clink.

By the time it clicked and he finally turned around it took a moment to process what he was looking at.

In part, due to the much-taller-than-he-thought CEO himself standing there beside the microwave. He hadn't really gotten a good look at him earlier, but the guy was easy on the eyes. He had sharp features, his eyes, mouth, nose. Like he was chiseled from marble.

But the most distracting feature was just how unserious he seemed.

Every other suit walking around this place carried themselves like they owned the joint. Practically shoving their wealth and entitlement down your throat in just the way they walked.

But here was the guy running the place, slouched over with piss poor posture, trying to heat up some Ramen in the microwave.

"Nathan" Charles cleared his throat, bringing the redhead back to earth. "What have I told you about putting metal in the microwave"

"To uh, not do it" he looked over at Charles confused, before looking back to the microwave. Swiftly the elder man moved forward, picking his pen from the floor and reaching into the appliance.

"Can you tell me why you put a fork in there just now?"

The raven haired man just stared. Like a laggy computer screen processing indefinitely.

Charles sighed, set the fork on the counter, and started his food up again. Metal free this time.

It was a stupid thing to fixate on, but it showed him a lot about the pair.

Like Charles, he came off as just another bureaucrat. But he was smart. Smart as hell. It was something he tried to downplay, but Pickles noticed it. Even in his little mannerisms, the way he tapped his pen against the paper instead of the clipboard. Or how he changed his style of speaking depending on who he was talking to. Proper and strict with the managers. Softer with the regular guys, the janitors, the cafeteria ladies, even him. He just spoke different.

And then there was Nathan.

He seemed to lean more into "Well meaning but exhausted father" when he spoke to him.

And Nathan was something else.

Quiet, for sure. He'd hardly spoken. He seemed to have a bit of a staring problem too. Those vibrant eyes boring into him whenever they found themselves in the same room.

And he was a total mystery.

Pickles had heard of him before, he did his research when applying. Kid's made it on the top 30 under 30 for the last three years. The details were a bit unclear, he didn't take many interviews. But from what Pickles could tell he had inheritaded the business from his grandfather, and somehow quadrupled profits in the first year.

He couldn't help but pull out his phone and type in a quick Google search. Because honestly, he just couldn't fathom how. Like the guy seemed cool, not one of those stuffy jack asses Pickles had had the displeasure of bumping into today. But he also seemed... aloof? In a way. Like sticking a fork in the microwave. He'd be lying if he said he'd never done it. But the way the guy looked at Charles, like fork and metal were two separate objects.

It just wasn't adding up.

And Google gave him nothing of substance. Just gossipy tabloids extensively covering his dating history. And it felt weird, but Pickles was a nosey guy. If he's gonna be spending every day glued to this guy's side he might as well get an idea of who he is.

Countless pictures of expensive dates, interviews of scorned lovers, tasteless speculation on the man's "prowess". He was starting to feel bad for the dude, these chick's were ruthless in their reviews.

But there was one that caught him off guard. No pictures, no proof, she choose to stay anonymous. But the way she spoke about him just felt too genuine to be faked.

"What was it like, dating the Nathan Explosion?"

"Well at first, a dream come true. He really is a sweet guy. More than generous, he even helped me pay off my student loans."

"Was that common for him? Using his wealth to make problems go away?"

"I don't know about that... he just. He didn't like to see people struggle. Not when he had the means to help."

"Well it must have been hard, dating someone like him"

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, someone of such high status. Someone so sought after."

"It was different for sure. He really is a romantic, despite the playboy persona he gives off. In real life, he's nothing like that at all."

"So then, why did things end?"

"He just... it didn't work."

"How so?"

"I don't want to speak ill of him, he truly is an incredible guy. We just... didn't click. We want different things in life and, well, honestly, things were just going too fast for me."

He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the time.

With a sigh, Pickles tossed his phone to the side. Pulling the scratchy comforter over his small frame.

He had a long day ahead of him.

"So uh, how long 've yew been runnin the place?"

"Couple years"

The red velvet of the elevator is beginning to feel like the interior of a coffin. Self contained and suffocating.

He knew he was expected to be around his new boss constantly. But he wasn't expecting the guy to be waiting at the door for him.

After an awkward exchanged they had shuffled into the quiet ride to the top.

"Yew grow up round here?"

"No"

His smile stretches thin.

"Yew don't talk much huh?"

Nathan break his short responses, turning to him.

"Depends on what we're talking about"

He looks so nonchalant, like there's not a thought behind those gorgeous eyes.

"What kinda stuff do ya like?"

The Ceo turns back towards the door, his shoulders raised as he contemplates the question.

"Chips, I guess. Fuckin love chips."

Sometimes Pickles thinks about bashing his skull in. The mirror in here would probably do the trick.

But before he can fully entertain the idea, the elevator door chimes, as they begin to part.

He's ready for the light this time, unwilling to be blinded by the massive windows view.

They step into the office, finally free of their awkward confinement.

"What about you?"

"Huh?" The question catches Pickles off gaurd.

"What do you, um, like?"

Theres an antsy fidget in the looming man's demeanor. Like a shy school girl introducing herself to the class.

It strikes something endearing in him.

"I dunno. 'M pretty kick ass on the drums."

"Yeah?" Nathan turns his head back, after pacing towards the curtains. He begins to tug one side closed with his eyes still locked on the red head.

"Yeah, I mean. Me an' my friends had this band back in highschool. Weren't nothing big, but we uh. Played a lot of parties, couple a' dive bars." His eyes cast down to freckled fingers clawing at themselves. He's rambling too much. "It was fun" he's too old to be reminiscing about high school.

"That's fucking metal"

It catches him by surprise. The room much dimmer than before as the CEO pulls the second curtain closed.

"Thanks? That was forever ago though-"

"How old are you?"

Wow this young man was brave.

"Twnety eight" There's no point in lying. He's pushing thirty working a menial job.

Nathan finally rests in his cushioned throne, rummaging through the drawers.

"You're older than me."

"Five years" he clicks his tongue, his piercings clinking against chipped teeth.

Nathan stops for a moment, dark eyes raising to meet his. The redhead felt his heart drop. Did he say something wrong?

"How the fuck do you know my age?" The CEO's voice deadpans, something terrifying in that flat tone. Those expressionless eyes.

His face grows bright red

"I was- shit" God this is embarrassing "it's just, like, yer in the news. I've seen it mentioned before" no way was he outright admitting he was fucking googling the guy.

The pair froze for a moment, either unmoving. Something tense in the air.

"Huh." Cold eyes calculating, prying him apart.

"That makes sense." He shrugs his shoulders, turning back to his desk.

Pickles could feel the air return to his chest. His heart still pounding. Christ that was nerve wracking.

This was a side he hadn't seen.

He's brought back to earth by the flick of a lighter.

He looks up, finding his new boss sparking up a joint.

"Wow"

Brilliant puffs of white pour from thick lips.

He turns to the new hire, holding it out.

"You smoke?"

His mind runs wild.

This is a joke right? Or like, some weird test designed to get his ass fired?

"I uh"

But what if it's not? What if he offends his cool ass boss's offer and is marked the lame ass square for the rest of his time here?

"I dunno bout that. Tha job listing mentioned yew guys drug test randomly."

Nathan pushes back in his chair, chuckling.

"Dude that's for like, meth and shit. Nobody gives a fuck if you smoke."

"I-" His face feels warm again "is this like a test?" He can't beat around the bush any longer. There's no way this guy is for real.

Nathan sits up, pulling himself towards the desk, a red button beneath his fingertip.

"Watch this" He's grinning as he presses down, the intercom clicking on.

"Hey Charles. Tell the new guy it's cool to smoke"

"Nathan."

He sounds so done with him.

"Don't be an asshole. Tell him it's cool."

"Tell me you aren't smoking right now. On the job."

"Quit being a square. Just tell him."

With a heavy sigh, Charles responds.

"While we do not test specifically for Marijuana, it is highly discouraged to engage in getting high at work."

Nathan laughs as he releases the button.

"Told you dude. We don't give a shit."

Pale hands outstretch again, passing the torch. It feels like he's in middle school again, the cool kids giggling as they hand him the bud.

He swallows hard, fingers brushing against rough digits.

"Fuck it" he pulls in deep, his lungs set ablaze.

"Fuck yeah" Nathan's eyes light up "Finally someone fucking cool."

#metalocalypse #dethklok #nickles #writing prompts #stoned at 5am writing this #metalocalypse fanfic #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #nathan x pickles #oneshots

[kittyball23]

Branch Has Feelings (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: As Poppy helps Bridget out with with her wedding outfits, Branch explores his old home, and experiences some emotions…

A/N: I tried giving Trailer 2 a chance to release, but I mean, we’re already about to get into August and there’s still nothing out online… But, like I’m sure a number of us have, I saw it on leak back around the 21st of July, therefore, my oneshots continue :3

Already as I’m sure you know from the new info and stuff that has been released in the past month, some of my theories have already been debunked – the fact that Spruce is married, the fact that Velvet and Veneer do not seem to be Bergens (unless they are a different kind of Bergens), the usage of ‘I Want You Back’ by NSYNC, the fact that the argument seemed to happen because of ONE wrong thing that occurred versus a culmination of stuff over time.

Note that I will not make changes to what I’ve already written, but I may rewrite some stuff as separate oneshots. I feel that making changes to what I’ve already written would kinda mess up the point of this collection of stories, which is, that they are supposed to be predictions and wild guesses before seeing the movie :)

__________________________________________

“We are family!

Get up everybody and sing!”

Troll voices from all six of the musical tribes rose up, loud and strong, mixing in with Bergen voices who were also singing along and causing a lovely melody to fill the air all around Bergen Town. How could anyone not be in a good mood? This was a time to celebrate – it was King Gristle and Bridget’s wedding day! Needless to say, there was much to do, from decorations to food to the seating arrangements and such. But it was not a matter to be worried over. There were more than enough helping hands to go around, and with music to help them groove along, the job was getting done pretty quickly and entertainingly. Attendees of the wedding were dressed down in their fanciest formal attire – tuxes, and gowns, and ribbons, and bows, and glitter were as far as the eye could see! There wasn’t one single individual who was not impressively adorned – at least this is how Queen Poppy of Pop Village saw it.

Poppy herself was looking quite nice that day as well, sporting a lovely green-and-pink glittered dress that had a fluffy, cotton train that ran from the skirt down. Extensions of various colors had been placed in her hair, and she’d even had a light layer of glittery makeup around her eyes. She knew she looked decent, but what made her feel exceptionally pretty was how much Branch had liked it. The way he’d told her she was beautiful, so cute and flustered, was replaying over and over in her head. She of course had immediately told him how handsome he looked, with his iridescent-fishscaled vest and glittery-green shorts. She wished she was looking at him now again, having her pink hand in his larger, warm teal one, but for the time being, the two of them had parted, seeing to different sections of the wedding prep and ensuring that it was coming along. Poppy’s glowbug had helped her fly along towards the castle, where she knew her dear friend Bridget was getting ready. Satin and Chenille were there, too, along with Smidge and Legsly. But all five girls were met with an unexpected sight inside the dressing room.

Rather than a song filling the air here, there was a wail, and that wail was coming from the bride herself!

“Oh my gah!” Smidge squeaked, her hands over her mouth as Bridget sat there, slumped at the vanity in her slip and crying, some of the makeup she had been attempting to apply running down her cheeks in dark streaks.

Poppy sprinted up to the Bergen. “Oh no, Bridget! What’s wrong?”

The twins gasped. “King Gristle didn’t cancel on you – “ Satin started asking.

“- Did he?” Chenille finished.

“Aw, no, that would be awful!” Legsly said, tugging at her orange pigtails in concern.

“You can just leave it to me to talk some sense into him,” Smidge said darkly, her voice deep, a frown on her eyebrows, and her hands busy at cracking her knuckles.

“No,” Bridget sniffled, trying to calm down some. “I… it’s just… I don’t know what to wear!” she blurted out. “This is the most important day of me and Grizzy’s life and… I just want to him to think I look nice!”

Poppy and the girls exchanged a glance of pity among one another. To anyone else it probably wouldn’t seem like a big deal, but in truth it was. They knew just how stressful a wedding could be, as they’d helped out plenty of times before for weddings in Pop Village. To add onto the matter, Poppy knew her friend was probably having doubts with the way she used to be the castle’s scullery maid for such a long time, ignored, with Gristle having been nearly oblivious to her existence. It was obvious to her and the other Trolls that Gristle would not go back to that, but still, her friend probably needed that extra reassurance.

Poppy made her up the vanity and patted Bridget on the arm. “Bridget, King Gristle loves you and thinks you’re beautiful no matter what. He really, really wants to marry you, because you make him happy!”

Bridget looked down at Poppy, like an epiphany had hit her. “I guess I do make him happy, don’t I?” she asked in a soft voice, then blushed.

“Uh, yeah! Totally!” Poppy said. “So even if you go out there with your maiden outfit, he’s still gonna marry you, because he loves you for you!”

The words were getting through to Bridget, and she smiled. Poppy really did know just what to say sometimes!

The twins, however, were having different sentiments. They exchanged a glance with one another and then piped up.

“Uh Poppy, she’s, um, not going to go out there with that outfit though, right?” Satin asked while her sister Chenille peered up worriedly.

“No way!” Bridget and Poppy exclaimed at the same time, and then laughed at the image that it put in their heads.

The twins breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness! It would have been a certain fashion disaster. They turned their attention to the plain, white wedding dress that was laid out on the bed.

“Hmmm,” they both hummed at the same time, mirroring each other with their hands on their chins and sharing the same squinted look at the apparel. “How far can we take this?”

Bridget perked up. “Oh, however far you want! Please! I want everything – ribbons, bows, frills, lace – whatever you wanna do!” She clasped her hands excitedly.

Satin and Chenille liked that answer. They pumped their fists in the air. “All right! Then let’s do this!”

With the help of the four Trolls, Bridget was transformed into a gorgeous diva. The dress was adorned with various colorful bows at the skirt, and was very frilly at the train. Bridget looked at herself in the mirror and gushed, absolutely loving it so far. “Oh, it’s great! But… maybe it needs more.” She paused and thought for a second, and then snapped her fingers. “Ooo! How about flowers!”

The twins gave her a thumbs up. “Flowers – we’re on it!” Soon enough, Bridget’s dress had been modified to include a gorgeous array of colorful flowers, just as vibrant as the bows were, that were stitched onto the blouse portion of the dress.

“Wow!” Legsly said, stretching herself up on her legs to get a better look all around Bridget. “That’s so cool!”

“I know!” Bridget squealed. “Oh! But how about we add little rainbows and glitter and stuff? Oh oh! And can you make my hair bigger?”

Once again, Satin and Chenille hopped in to help. “You got it, girl!” they said, giving her a thumbs up.

Bridget was once more changed, and this time, she looked super extra glamourous!

Well, maybe a little TOO extra glamorous…

Her hair had indeed been puffed up huge with extensions galore – it looked almost big enough to live inside of! Her makeup had been done heavily, with dark, navy-blue eyeshadow, a brilliant scarlet-red lipstick, and deep pink blush coating her cheeks. Her dress indeed had the rainbow designs she wanted – on top of the bows and flowers that were already there. It all was shiny-fied with a layer of glitter, making everything about her glimmer like diamonds. And that was not mentioning the large, hoop earrings that had little gem-like crystals hanging from the ends.

“Oh my gah!” Smidge said again, and this time she recoiled a little.

Bridget gave a little shout of fright when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, also. “AH! Oops… too much, huh?”

Poppy grimaced a little. “Err… maybe juuust a tad,” she admitted. “But you guys keep working on that, alright? You’ll figure something out, and it’s gonna be fabulous!” The Pop Queen gave her friend a reassuring thumbs up and then began to mount on the glowbug that she’d used to ride over to the castle. “I’ll come back in a little bit, I’m gonna just check on a few things in the town!”

“Okay, Poppy!” all five of the girls called back to her.

Poppy shook her head fondly, chuckling as she was brought back to the main town square. Bridget was so excited – so she could only imagine what it would be like to know that you were going to be united with your one true love, to be bound for life in a union that was stronger than the glitter glue that was sold at Sky Toronto’s Fun Factory! Secretly, Poppy hoped to have that experience someday, with the one Troll that had her heart captive, though she wouldn’t admit to him just yet. She knew that said Troll was still probably getting used to the whole idea of even being in a relationship, let alone with the Queen of Pop.

Hmmm… where IS he? she suddenly thought. Poppy flew her bug over to where she saw Prince D and Cooper helping out on the banquet table for the grand feast that was to take place right after the wedding. She grinned, watching the brothers pal around and groove with each other, and, not for the first time, wishing that she, too, had a sibling that she could sing with.

“Hi, Cooper! Hi, D!” she greeted cheerily, waving her hand.

“Hey, Poppy!” Prince D said. “How’s it goin’?”

“Totally amazing!” Poppy replied with a giggle. “Have you guys seen Branch?”

“No, I haven’t,” Prince D said. He then nudged Cooper. “Have you, bro?”

“Uh-huh!” Cooper nodded, helpfully gesturing his long neck over to where the altar was set. “I think I saw him head over for the Troll Tree!”

“Oh!” Poppy said, wondering what her boyfriend was up to. “Well, okay! Thanks!” She gave Cooper a high-five, and Cooper gave his signature goofball laugh as he watched the Pop Queen head off.

“Any time, Poppy!” he called.

__________________________________________

As it turned out, Branch was in fact at the Troll Tree.

Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he’d gone up exploring the Pop Trolls’ old home. Many pods were, surprisingly, still as intact as they had been before King Peppy had evacuated the town. He could see the old schoolpod, and the large one that was the one for the royal family. Which made him wonder…

Branch scaled the tree, guiding his glowbug to the right places to go, around certain familiar bends, mushrooms, and vines that were there, until he finally reached the spot, stopping short and gaping. There it was. Still in the same spot that it had always been, as timeless as ever.

His old pod.

Well, it had been his grandmother’s old pod, but it had been his home all the same.

The nostalgia hit him hard as soon as he’d dismounted the bug and set foot inside. Not much had changed, really at all. It was the same old carpet, the same old decorations, the same old walls and halls. He remembered how his grandmother would sing to him and play games out there in their living room, and how they’d both snack on delicious treats of all kinds in the dining area. He remembered his grandmother letting him help out in the kitchen making cookies, and when she’d tuck him into bed at night, planting a sweet kiss on his forehead and always reminding him that he was loved. He remembered being thankful for it, having needed that reminder to keep him planted in reality. But most of all, he remembered something else…

His eyes darted to the gramophone at the farther end of the pod, and he remembered how much his grandmother would love to play music on there. He could remember how she would dance with him, letting him stand atop her feet while she toddled them about, the two of them enjoying themselves thoroughly and laughing. They’d had plenty of music to dance with and plenty of records to show for. Though, of that collection, there had been a significant amount of them had not been played. Those particular records caused too much pain for the two of them, yet, it would have been even more painful to simply discard them, and make pretend that they didn’t exist. That’s why they were always right there, tucked behind the gramophone, where it was an arms distance away, but never dared to be played out loud.

On automatic, Branch felt himself move toward the gramophone. He swallowed hard when he did in fact see records still there, tucked neatly behind it. He itched to reach for them, to see the cover of the albums he had so wanted to forget existed. But he wasn’t so sure.

Get a hold of yourself, Branch scolded himself. You got used to the other song, didn’t you?

That ‘other song,’ as he called it in his head, was in fact Total Eclipse of the Heart, the song he’d so gladly belted out when he was a young boy, singing into his flower microphone…

… Providing the soundtrack to his grandmother’s death.

Branch shook his head. True to how that voice in his head had reminded him, he indeed had learned to accustom himself to the song once again. He wouldn’t willingly go out of his way to play it, but he wouldn’t find himself tearing up and feeling lightheaded after hearing it, either. He had learned to keep those emotions in check. Could he keep these in line, too?

Before he could help himself, he tugged the albums out from behind the gramophone. They were a little dusty, but not too bad to where he couldn’t tell what was on it. Because he most certainly could. They were four faces he still had yet to see again, after over twenty years and still counting. The faces of John Dory, Spruce, Clay, and Floyd. Also known as the hit boyband BroZone.

Also known as his brothers.

Branch felt angry at himself for already starting to feel a pang in his chest. This wasn’t even an actual photo of them! The album covers were just little felt, scrapbook-like figures that looked a little silly in their appearance, each brother identifiable by their bright-colored hair – JD a brilliant turquoise, Spruce a rich purple, Clay a bright yellow, and Floyd a serene magenta. Then there was himself – pictured with his crop of blue hair right there with the rest of them, side by side, together.

If only it had been that way in real life…

Branch frowned. What was the use in dwelling on alternative scenarios? He wouldn’t call himself as much of a pessimist as he was in his gray days, but there were still some bits of mottos and self-advice that he’d acquired then that he still used to that day. One of those was the fact that sometimes, bad things happened, and nothing could be done to change them. His poor grandmother, for example. She had been taken by Bergens, suffering a horrible fate. He couldn’t do anything about it now. There was no time machine to take him back to that moment and fix what had occurred. Just like there wasn’t one to help take him back to that other awful day, one that had happened a few years beforehand, and fix the mistake that had happened…

Branch glared at one of the album covers. A few silly songs were not going to get the better of him. He tugged the record out of the case and placed it on the gramophone, adjusting the needle so that it lay on top of it. The gramophone was old, but worked without so much as a hitch, and, slowly, a tune began to warble its way out of it, a little low at first, but then louder, clear enough so he could hear the song that was playing and clear enough so he could pick out just who was singing what part. Branch felt himself freeze when he recognized what song it was, and inwardly groaned. Of all songs, it had to be this one. The one that they’d done right before everything got decimated. He wanted to tear the record out of the gramophone right there and then, but it was too late. He was being taken back to that memory, still feeling so fresh on his mind even after so long…

__________________________________________

There was a packed house that night.

The five boys could hear the loud whoops and cheers from the Trolls that had gathered there to see the show, impatiently hooting and hollering with uncontained joy. They knew it was so much fun to perform, but they also knew how critical it was to get their performance as perfect as possible. That was, if they wanted to win the award.

It was going to be difficult, but John Dory, the leader of their pack, welcomed it. Finally, a chance to share the stage with the greats – like the Sugar Gals and the Chillin' JillyNs, who had already gone on and performed before them – and outshine them! There had been not one single doubt in John Dory's mind that BroZone was the most band-tastic musical group out there. What more, if they'd managed to pull this off, they'd be the youngest talent to ever have won. John Dory was starry-eyed, already imagining just how many pictures he and his brothers would take with the wonderful trophy. He had already cleared a space in their room on the wall, and also made room on one of their shelves for where the trophy would be placed.

He quickly polished down his goggles and then snapped them on his head carefully, checking in the mirror to make sure that they looked extra fly. His other brothers were also getting ready for their performance – Spruce was sprucin' up with a little bit of hair gel and spray, Clay was warming up with a plié of sorts, and Floyd was clipping on the one pearl earring he liked to wear.

John Dory took a deep breath and clapped his hands together once to garner their attention.

"All right, listen up!" he said. "I don't think you really need me to tell ya how important this night is, but, heh, I still kinda am going to." Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, and he placed his hands on his hips in a way that made him look very determined. "We are going to make boy band history tonight..." His voice was deep and serious, and the others could get the gist of how critical everything was. Everything had to be flawless, and, luckily, it all was practiced to perfection, so Spruce, Clay, and Floyd didn't really feel so concerned.

Still, though, there was one bro who wasn't feeling up to that particular level of confidence. John Dory didn't notice, but Floyd did, and he wanted to say something about it.

"Bro," he said, approaching JD's side. "You're making Baby Branch nervous."

John Dory peered over to where Floyd was gesturing at. Their youngest brother of the bunch was a few paces outside of the dressing room, standing near the curtain where just beyond it was the large mushroom stage on which they would be performing on that night in just a few short moments. Branch shuffled from side to side on his small blue feet, and had his eyebrows creased with slight worry.

JD dismissed the matter. “Ah, it’s just the usual pre-performance jitters. He’ll get over it!”

“I don’t know, JD…” Floyd said.

“Want me to go talk to him?”

The magenta Troll glanced at his eldest brother. John Dory meant well, yes, but Floyd noticed that sometimes he could be a little oblivious to how his words affected someone. A pep talk that was good for some teens who’ve already put on several shows before might not be so good for a small baby who’d just barely gotten his singing voice. But Floyd didn’t want to go through the trouble of trying to explain this to JD at that moment. “Maybe I’d better go talk to him,” he said.

JD looked slightly confused for a second, before recovering. “Huh? Well, alright, but make it snappy, ‘kay?”

Floyd gave him a quick thumbs up and then walked over to where their youngest brother still stood, perhaps looking even a smidge more nervous than he had a second or two ago. Floyd felt pity for him. Baby Branch was the smallest one of their group, but he looked even smaller now, with how fearful he was being.

“Hey, bro,” he said gently, “everything okay?”

Branch didn’t turn around just yet. His eyes were still fixed on the curtain. “No,” he responded, his voice small, meek, and of course, babyish in its nature. “I feel like I’m gonna barf.” He turned around to look at Floyd, pressing his little hands together.

“Branch, it’s just another show,” Floyd said, keeping his tone light. “It’s just like our rehearsals.”

“But there’s so many people…” Branch worried. He stole another glance from behind the curtain, and whimpered a little.

“Yeah, there is,” Floyd agreed, “but that’s because they wanna see just how great you are on stage. You, and me, and all our brothers.”

Branch’s eyes lit up some. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” Floyd responded, glad to see that his little brother was showing signs of feeling better.

“B-but… what if I mess up?” Branch asked, worry still pricking at him. “They’re gonna be mad…” The blue Trolling peeked over to where John Dory, Spruce, and Clay were at in the dressing room.

“They might be a little disappointed if we don’t win,” Floyd admitted. He knew he would probably feel slightly disappointed, too. “But, hey, remember our motto?”

Branch scrunched his small face as he tried to remember. “A prankster never reveals his tricks?”

“No, I think you’re thinking about Clay’s motto,” Floyd chuckled. “I’m talking about the BroZone motto, the one John Dory came up with?”

Branch thought again and then seemed to get it. “Bros before shows?” he asked, tentatively.

Floyd nodded. “Exactly! And you do know what that means, right?”

Branch squinched up his nose. “I think…”

Floyd kneeled down, and placed a hand on Branch’s shoulder. “It means that being brothers is always gonna be more important than any performance that we do. Okay?”

“Well… okay!” Branch replied chirpily, and then snuggled into Floyd when the magenta-haired Trolling scooped the baby in for a warm hug. Branch was still a little skeptical about their band’s motto. He constantly heard John Dory remind them any time before they performed that that show was “very important.” Oh well, he could get clarification later. At that moment, Floyd had released him and was taking his hand in his.

“Come on, now,” he said, “let’s go back to the others.”

Branch let himself be guided along back into the dressing room, where, sure enough, John Dory huddled the whole team together for one final bout of pep-talking.

“We’re gonna be entering this as band-tastic boys, but we’re gonna be leaving it as bro-dacious superstars!”

The boys cheered, excited and eager, exchanging rounds of high-fives, fist-bumps, and even a playful smack in the rear (specifically John Dory on Baby Branch).

If only the positive attitude had remained with them for the rest of that night.

Because what was once seeming to be a dream come true on that stage rapidly turned into a Nightmare on Elm Tree. With the fall. And then the vines. And then the humiliation. And then the argument…

If they had been puffalo, they would have certainly careened their way back inside the safety of their pod with their tails between their legs. But they were not puffalo, they were Trollings, who all had a variation of negative emotions radiating from them.

Spruce’s cheeks burned red with a mix of embarrassment and anger. He stormed into the center of the pod and whirled on his brothers. “My rock-hard abs and I quit!” he growled, making a show of tearing his purple vest from his body and ripping it clean in two.

Clay was quick to second that. “I quit too!” he said, despising the way that folks had laughed at him, and not with him.

Floyd was about to speak up, hoping to turn the heat down, but John Dory didn’t want to bother even hearing what he had to say. In less than a minute, they were already two brothers down in their band. He didn’t see a point – Floyd was probably just going to say that he quit, too! He stormed over to the entrance of the pod. “This bro bro’s goin’ solo… YOLO!” JD called over his shoulder, still trying to bust a rhyme even as he headed off, glaring at his brothers and then departing.

Branch stood on wobbly little legs beside Floyd, barely registering his older brother’s presence, his head in a whirl. He felt tears pooling in his large blue eyes, and a whimper in his throat.

“I ruined everything…”

In his eyes, he really did. If he had just practiced more, if he had just been as great as John Dory, and Spruce, and Clay, and Floyd had wanted him to be, then this wouldn’t have happened. Then he wouldn’t have been standing there, watching his family fall apart before his very eyes, watching the band break up, watching their dream be crushed.

This is all my fault. MINE.

I’m the one to blame. Nobody but me.

I ruined our band. I ruined our family.

I wasn’t good enough.

They hate me.

This is MY fault…

__________________________________________

“Branch?”

The Troll gasped, and he jumped right into action as soon as he’d heard the voice of his girlfriend pipe up from behind him. His fingers flew to the gramophone, and quickly removed the needle from the record. Then he turned around, plastering a large, toothy grin on his face in hopes of remaining inconspicuous.

Poppy was standing tentatively at the doorway of the room, a little uncertain, and some concern shining in her fuchsia eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re crying and smiling at the same time. It kinda looks like it hurts.”

“It does kinda hurt,” Branch admitted, feeling up his face with his hands. Then he sighed, letting the smile drop and hurriedly wiping away the remainder of the tears that had streaked his face.

Poppy approached him. “Branch? Please tell me what’s the matter…”

Branch rubbed his arm. “It’s nothing, really… it’s just that this place brings back a lot of memories, that’s all,” he said, trying not to let his voice waver.

Poppy nodded in understanding. “This was your grandmother’s pod, wasn’t it?” she asked, though she knew the answer already. A small portrait of Grandma Rosiepuff was on one of the walls near the door, and the types of antiques and such that were leftover in the pod also gave her a clue.

“Yes, actually,” Branch said. “This was where I grew up.” He gestured around the space and felt another lump grow in his throat thinking about his beloved grandparent. “I miss her.”

“Oh, sweetie, I know you do,” Poppy cooed, taking it as her cue to bestow a much-needed hug onto him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his chest. Branch returned the hug, extremely grateful for the comfort.

After a moment, Branch allowed himself to speak again. “Grandma and I did lots of stuff here. We loved to sing and listen to music together before, um…” He trailed off, and Poppy already knew what it was that he was getting at, though she did not force him to have to say it out loud.

Instead, the Pop Queen’s gaze drifted to the gramophone, and the albums next to it. She raised an eyebrow curiously. “Can I take a look?” she asked, gently releasing their embrace and peering up at him with question in her eyes.

Branch felt himself go stiff. NO! he wanted to blurt. But he knew his hard refusal over something so trivial would meet Poppy with confusion, and then have her raise suspicion. She’ll wonder what I’m hiding, he thought. He’d managed to keep his secret under wraps for this long, much to his surprise, and he did not want her to put two and two together and figure it out. But if I show her the album, maybe she WILL figure it out! Branch argued with himself. His blue face was plastered on the cover of the album just as prominent as his other brothers. But then again, I was a baby back then, he reasoned. I mean, I’ve grown up since then. I don’t look THAT much the same now than I did back then… do I?

Branch didn’t want to keep going on this back-and-forth, so he found himself slowly nodding to Poppy in reply. Poppy smiled and went right for the albums, carefully picking them up. Her reaction was just as he’d pictured it. Confusion, and then pleasant surprise.

“BroZone?!” she exclaimed. “Oh my gosh… and they’re original records!” Poppy ran her hand over the cover, her fingers grazing over the felted cover and the little figures of the boys that were featured. Poppy gushed some more. “Wow! I can’t believe it! I mean, I had no idea your Grandma was a fan!”

“Yeah… um… I guess they had universal appeal,” Branch said, very carefully choosing his words.

Poppy sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. “Yeah, you’re telling me.” Her pupils dilated, and there was a sudden lovestruck quality to her gaze, one that made Branch feel a twang of jealousy. “They’re my favorite band!” she blurted.

“Oh… really?” Branch asked, maintaining his voice to a calm level.

“Yeah!” Poppy said. “Oh, can I please play one song? Please?”

“Err…” Branch swallowed. He’d just tried to listen to ‘one song,’ believing that after so long of being apart from his disbanded family, it wouldn’t have much of an effect on him. But he’d been wrong – very wrong. Heck, he hadn’t even remembered when he’d started crying!

Poppy saw his hesitance, and quickly added, “I don’t have to, it’s okay, you know…” She was saying the words, but Branch could tell she wasn’t fully ready to take on that option. At least not with the way her fingers twitched excitedly on the record, more than ready to place it in to be played. He didn’t want to disappoint his girlfriend… or have her ask any questions out of suspicion.

“No, no, it’s all right! G-go ahead,” Branch said, coughing afterwards to not have her pay any mind to his brief stutter.

Poppy didn’t pay mind. She squealed happily, bouncing twice on the spot, and then placing the record in. The opening notes to “The Right Stuff” began to play, making her bop her head up and down.

“First time was a great time Second time was a blast Third time I fell in love Now I hope it lasts I can see it in your walk Tell 'em when you talk See it in everything you do Even in your thoughts

You got the right stuff, baby Love the way you turn me on You got the right stuff, baby You're the reason why I sing this song!”

Poppy giggled as she sang along, removing the record when the song was done and looking at Branch. “Ahhh, I just love this song! It’s my favorite! How about you? What’s your favorite song of theirs?”

“Well, you see, um, I don’t actually have a favorite song,” Branch said, in a way telling the truth. He hated hearing the songs now, as they only brought him bad memories.

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean! I mean, how can you pick a favorite when they’re all so awesome!” Poppy exclaimed, unaware of his thoughts. Then she paused. “No wait, scratch that, not awesome, but uh, what’s that other word they used… oh! Oh wait, I remember! Bro-dacious!” She snapped her fingers, happy to have recollected correctly. “Yeah! The leader of the band used to say it all the time. Oh, he was sooo cute!”

John Dory! Cute?! Branch frowned. He could think up an hour-long speech with over hundreds of reasons for how NOT ‘cute’ that airhead of a brother of his was, starting with the fact that he abandoned him. But what Poppy said next distracted him.

“Oh who am I kidding – they were all cute! Especially the baby, he was my favorite!”

Branch blinked. “The baby?” he echoed.

“Uh-huh!” Poppy said. “I can’t tell you how many times I wished I coulda pinched his cute little fat cheeks – like this!” She squealed and demonstrated by pinching Branch’s blue cheek between her pink fingers. Now that he had to chuckle at. Boy, if only she knew the irony, Branch thought.

“Oh, but Branch,” she said, suddenly reeling herself back, “None of them are cuter, or sweeter, or more handsome than you are.” She blushed, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I made you think so… I kinda go a little bonkers about BroZone.” Poppy let out a flustered little laugh and looked down at the ground, like a child that had been caught swiping from the cookie jar.

Branch suppressed the sigh that wanted to escape him. He felt bad for feeling jealous before. It wasn’t her fault. Poppy didn’t know. Poppy wouldn’t ever come to know. She was just like much of their fans when the band was in their prime, fangirling and overly ecstatic at the mere mention of BroZone’s name. And part of him really did wish he could tell her. He didn’t like the idea of keeping secrets from his girlfriend, the one Troll who loved him and understood him so well. She wouldn’t keep secrets from him. And, she would also understand about his past if he explained it, wouldn’t she? But then again, at the same time it would open the floodgates for a whole bunch of other questions. She would never look at him the same way again, that’s for sure. She wouldn’t see ‘Branch,’ she would see ‘Bitty B,’ the small, diaper-clad youngest performer of BroZone. Not only that, but she would want to know every single little miniscule detail about his brothers. She’d wanna know their whereabouts and how she could get a chance to meet them and get their autographs. Those were things he didn’t have answers to, and even if he did, he most certainly wouldn’t want to tell her so that he’ll have to deal with them again. Was telling her worth it? Was what he’d envisioned happening afterwards something that he really wanted?

No.

Branch had to go with his default answer this time around, despite, deep down, his gut feeling telling him otherwise.

What does it matter! Branch argued with himself. There’s plenty of time to tell her. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen to require the explanation to be given. If there was, he figured, it would have happened by now. If his brothers really and truly cared, if they felt remorse in any way for the wrong that had happened, matters should’ve been resolved by now. Long resolved. If they wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, then he’d do the same – he would go on with the illusion that he had no siblings to speak of. A family didn’t abandon one another, so in a way, it was sort of true. He had no brothers.

Branch’s decision settled, he approached Poppy and gently took her hands. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I still love you, Poppifer,” he cooed, using her fun little nickname that he’d invented even before they’d officially sealed their relationship.

Poppy’s blush of embarrassment turned to one of bashfulness, and a sweet little giggle escaped her at once again hearing that this wonderful Troll loved her. She was still swooning when she heard Branch suddenly gasp, looking down at the watch in his Hug Time bracelet.

“Poppy! We’re gonna be late for the royal wedding!” he cried, grabbing her arm in haste. “Let’s go get married!”

The Pop Queen gasped. “Branch!”

Branch glanced at her in confusion, seeing the shocked look she now wore. “What?” Then it had hit him what he’d said. “OH! I – I mean, let’s get Bridget and Gristle married,” he corrected himself, chuckling awkwardly.

Poppy looked relieved. “Oh, okay! Because that would be weird if we got married.”

Branch quickly agreed. “Yes, very weird. Yeah.”

They awkwardly looked away as they continued to bounce agreement off one another, Branch finalizing the point with a seemingly disgusted “bleh” which Poppy copied. By then, the awkwardness had lifted some, and they were ready to make their way over. But Branch still had a lingering thought in mind.

Would it really be that weird if they got married? They had already reached the status of being boyfriend-and-girlfriend, so, logically, if things went well in their relationship, marriage would be the next step. And Branch couldn’t foresee anything going wrong in their relationship. Sure, they’d had a little tiff back when they had only been best friends, after he’d pointed out that she hadn’t been listening very well and that in turn was making her not be as great of a queen as she’d wanted to be. But even that was resolved fairly easily enough, and their relationship only continued to blossom from there.

Does Poppy really think it’s weird, though? Branch wasn’t sure, but right now, he didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding out. This day was not about him and Poppy – it was about their friends, Bridget and Gristle and their marriage. One day, perhaps, it could be about him and Poppy. And boy did he look forward to that day. By that point though, if they were lucky enough to reach that cherished husband-and-wife status, Branch knew that one thing was for certain, and that one thing was making his stomach churn with foreboding, making him think back to the albums that were in his grandmother’s old pod, the way Poppy had glanced at the Trollings on the cover and then at Branch and having not made the correlation.

There CAN’T be any secrets between us.

__________________________________________

A/N: I had to write this after seeing the way the new trailer started 😭 Bridget's wedding outfits scene was an idea used from the leaked pages of The Art of Trolls Band Together. Song used is "The Right Stuff" by New Kids on the Block

Oh yeah, and I had to include the "let's go get married" bit again, because it is one of my favorite things ^_^

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #branch trolls #poppy trolls #broppy #fanfiction #dreamworks #kittyball writes

[lsvdw-blog]

How would Ethan react if your MC slapped his ass as she was passing him in the corridor?

Wrote this little ficlet in 30 minutes on a plane! Hope you enjoy ❤️

It Beats for You

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 555

Warnings; Rating: Making-out; Teen+ (to be safe)

Premise: Serena slaps Ethan's ass as he walks by, but things take a sweet turn.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

She's hiding. In one of the many crooks in the place, feet tired and throbbing from wearing heels for too many hours; cheeks hurting from faking smiles and laughs with insipid people; mind at a standstill, desperately wanting a distraction.

As if the universe heard her, her favorite person walks past, unaware of her presence in the nook.

He's wearing a tux, custom-made of course, tailored to perfection. And boy, is he perfect.

The dark blue, nearly midnight, velvet material brings out his cerulean eyes, glowing ever brighter. The jacket fits snug around his chest and biceps, a hint of the gym honed physique peeking through; the pants are pressed to a tee, elongating his already tall frame, and cupping in all the right places.

Serena can't help the way her gaze drops low, tongue darting out to lick her lips, hand moving of its own accord, a resounding smack reverberating through the walkway.

Ethan stops dead in his tracks, taking a split second to register what just happened, before spinning on his heels and crowding into the hideout.

He invades her space, one forearm pressed against the wall above her head, the other arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her to him.

Dropping his head to her ear, he teases, "menace."

His cologne, mingled with his aftershave, is enough to make Serena weak in the knees. With the way his hot breath ghosts over the shell of her ear and how his eyes bore into her with unbridled passion, she stumbles.

Ethan's arm wraps unbelievably tighter around her, catching her, using his strong body as a net. His hand slinks down the silk material, giving her backside a squeeze.

"Two can play at this game," he whispers before taking her earlobe in his mouth.

Serena braces herself against him, both hands on his strong chest. As much as she wants to see where this game leads, she's suddenly overwhelmed with the pure adoration she has for the man whose arm's she's in.

Her hands draw up his body until they come to rest on either side of his face, gently pulling him to look at her.

Their eyes connect and her brown-green eyes search the depths of his. One hand slides down to rest over his heart and she feels it's strong rhythm beneath her fingers.

"How did I get so lucky?" She murmurs, not even aware she'd said it aloud.

The sudden change of the atmosphere surprises Ethan, but it's not unwelcome. He asks himself that exact question every single day about her.

His arm above her head lowers, the hand coming to rest atop hers, gently squeezing.

"It beats for you."

The sincerity in his words bring tears to Serena’s eyes and she swears her own heart could burst from the love she holds for him in it.

Ethan bends down, picking up her shoes that are haphazardly strewn on the ground before kissing her, sweetly, lovingly, devotedly.

He picks her up, bridal style, in one fell swoop, Serena shrieking into his mouth.

They break apart after a few languid strokes of their lips and tongues, foreheads together. "Let's go home, shall we?"

Serena nods and Ethan begins to walk out of the building.

"Can we get food first?" Serena asks, her legs swinging off the side of Ethan's arm.

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ask me anything #dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan fic #ethan ramsey fic #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #open heart

[thelonesomequeen]

Who do you think was best dressed at Emmys?

Honestly, I was kind of mostly underwhelmed by the red carpet last night. But there were still a lot of looks liked. There were a lot of women in deep reds and men in all black suits/shirts that were classic and well fit. My favorite favorite was probably Jenna Ortega 🦎

Although is it weird that I always wonder how women sit comfortable in dresses that have a stiff shape to them? 😂 I saw Quinta Brunson on a lot of worst dressed lists and I disagree with that. I liked her look and I thought the color was beautiful on her

Camilla Marrone and Lux Pascal both went for simple classic cut gowns that I thought looked fantastic on both of them respectively

I also loved Ayo Edebiri’s leather look. A lot of celebs went for some kind of leather, but I feel like she was the only one who pulled off making it look chic

And to give some men credit, I loved Jeremey Allen White’s classic white jacket tux and Tatanka Means’ green velvet tux is stunning!

[thezfc]

Double breasted, green velvet tux 😍 yes!

Sparkly, Golden Girls MuuMuu with shoulder embroidery 🤨 no!

#tom hiddleston

[newtonsheffield]

Super vintage ask - Simone at Wimbledon which AU do you think?

Ahhh my friends, this is the object of Rockstar Anthony’s obsession affections. This is Kate Sharma, stylist extraordinaire. Not pictured is Anthony in a green velvet tux with his shirt open to the navel, hyping her up behind the camera.

“That’s my GIRL!”

“Excuse me, sir, have you seen how beautiful my girl is?!”

“We’re together, we’re in love. She tells me all the time!”

“WOOOO!”

#like a hurricane #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[ded-and-gonne]

#robert sheehan #the umbrella academy #tua #tua s3 #klaus hargreeves #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy season 3 #ded and gonne #the hottest rob #location wedding #costume green velvet tux #image bank klaus #image bank green velvet tux #mine #my image

[ejzah]

A/N: This takes place post “Sleeping Dogs”. Deeks has his own opinion on the suit.

***

Kelly Green and Crushed Velvet

“Ok, what about this one?” Callen asks, handing his phone to Sam. Deeks cranes his neck so he can see the screen too, which shows a sleek dark-blue suit.

“I think you’d look great in that,” Sam responds glibly.

“It’s a little more Hollywood After Party than I expected, but I think you can pull it off,” Deeks adds.

“Actually, this is Anna’s second option for you.”

Deeks bursts out laughing, imagining Sam decked out in the velvet suit.

“No way in hell,” Sam says bluntly, turning squinted eyes on Deeks.

“Wait, you’re serious about this?” Deeks checks, still chuckling occasionally. “Sam wouldn’t get his forearm in that jacket.”

“Hey, I’m sure they offer it in “big and tall”,” Callen offers, straight-faced.

“Ha, funny. You’re about to find yourself looking for a new best man.”

“Oh, you finally made it official,” Deeks comments, reaching over to give Sam and Callen a fist bump. “Congrats! You should have waited til Kensi and I were back so we could throw you a party to celebrate.”

“It was just a formality. This jerk knew he was always going to be my best man.”

“I hope you’re not feeling left out, Deeks,” Sam says.

Deeks shakes his head. “Far be it from me to get in the way of the bromance. You’ve earned it for putting up with each other for so long.”

“I should be offended, but oddly enough, I’m not,” Callen muses. “You’ll be a groomsman thought, right?”

“Of course! Like I’d miss the chance to watch Arkady officiate your wedding up close and personal,” Deeks says with a grin.

Callen puts his hand up, instantly looking alarmed. “Ok, Arkady is not officiating. We haven’t decided who, but he is definitely off the list. Now, can we finally settle this tux thing? Because I am beyond ready to be done with color schemes.”

“You should see the first suit Anna had in mind,” Sam complains, ignoring Callen. “It was Kelly green. Do I look like the kind of man who would wear crayola colors?”

“It was not that bad.”

“I’d look like a piece of asparagus.”

“More like a piece of broccoli,” Deeks mutters, earning a glare from Sam.

“Hey, I thought you were on my side,” he says with mild outrage.

“I am. And I agree that green is not your color.”

“I should have just asked Castor,” Callen sighs, as Sam and Deeks continue to debate the merits of various colors.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #Sam and Callen #post sleeping dogs #silliness #ejzah fanfiction

[rae-gar-targaryen]

Lewis’s tie needed to be shorter, and his jacket better tailored. It was too many different fabrics for an all black outfit.

Monica was an Angel, absolutely gorgeous. I do wish it was a slightly darker red.

Glen was boring (no surprises there) and his hair gave me the ick

Danny looked so good, his shoes were incredible but I didn’t like the watch, it made the outfit look cheap

For example Greg’s watch was much more timeless, though I wish he had cool shoes, or an accessory cause he was basic too.

Was Jay’s suit velvet? I liked that he had a contrast in his tux

Lewis's tie either need to be shorter (like a bowtie) or longer and thinner; or a bolo tie. And he should have worn more colors -- I'm still waiting for Warren (who styles AG and Glen, as well as Lewis) to put him in a green suit to make his blues pop.

Monica looks good in EVERY shade of red -- I've seen her in that crimson color before and it's ALWAYS incredible.

Glen looked like a Ken doll, per the ushe.

DANNY'S SHOES WERE GREAT. I loved his watch out of context, like if it wasn't with this outfit, I would have appreciated it more. He probably didn't even need one, but I liked that he's unafraid to accessorize. And he always looks good with his earrings. I MISS THE LONG HAIR AND THE UNDERCUT -- I'm going to mourn his hair for a while, but I like that he's reserved some volume and some curl.

I thought Greg looked beautiful, and like, classicly and timelessly so -- but your'e right -- a little basic? Esp because we've seen him in SO MUCH color in the past. He looks GREAT in pink. Why not wear one of his bright suits? Like I'd love to see him go all "Coyote" and wear orange and black.

Jay's suit WAS velvet. I fucking LOVE a velvet suit. No notes. Jay wins 11000/10. He looked tall, chic, and perf.

I give Jay gold.

Monica, Danny and Tarzan silver.

Glen and Lewis bronze.

#gg awards #fashion #tgm cast #glen powell #lewis pullman #danny ramirez #monica barbaro #greg tarzan davis #jay ellis #golden globes #top gun maverick cast #incredible ivy #rae answers

[hillszayn]

Going to the masquerade ball was something Zayn was a bit unsure of. Usually he wasn't a big fan of social events, especially where you had to get dressed up for them. Finding a tux and a mask last minute was surprisingly easy - he went with the classic blank dress pants, black shirt, and a green velvet blazer. The pocket square had gold patterning throughout it, to match the outline of his mask - figuring a plain black one would be boring. Walking through the doors with Selena, his hand went around her waist. "Fuck." He muttered, taking in everything around him. "Impressive. They really went all out for this, huh?" @selxgcmez

#f2f; #stories;

[typingtess]

When they got home from the holiday party, a quickly fading Eric gave Nell a folder with the itinerary and requirements for their Yosemite trip including the Bracebridge Dinner at The Majestic Yosemite Hotel formerly known as The Ahwahnee Hotel.  Requirements?  What did he get her into?

With an over-served Eric was sleeping off his eggnogtinis, Nell broke out of the tablet and started searching out this dinner.  Four-hours of singing, acting, pageantry built around a seven-course dinner.  Christmas Carols, Renaissance reenactments and Renaissance entertainment - yep, it is the Eric Beale dream meal.

The folder said that dinner was formal.  That would explain the Indochino package in Eric’s car last week.  Opening the hallway closet at the entrance of Eric’s apartment she found three wet suits and, holy moly, a black velvet tuxedo with a shocking white dress shirt, matching red and green bow tie and cummerbund in a clear garment bag.  When Beale wears long pants, he wears only the best of pants.

The tux had her back on the tablet.  Rent the Runway had a Badgley Mischka green velvet dress that would look like a miniskirt on Kensi but would work for her.  She had black boots and gloves that would match.  It would be delivered a day before their trip.  She’d ship it back from Yosemite when the meal was over.

Still wanting to know exactly what Eric planned, she googled Bracebridge Dinner and wound up with an episode of The Gilmore Girls.  It was as if the gods came up with the perfect Beale Meal.  Oh, she’d have to remember that for their dinner.

Thinking about the dinner, the folder had the seven-course menu and oh my.  Sonoma Duck Confit Strudel was not a staple at the Nell Jones home but was a course at dinner.  Oh, the wine needed to be ordered in advance – if this was going to be a four-hours Bealeapalozza, there would be wine.

Looking at the rest of the itinerary, they were going to a hot spring for a good soak and stopping off at the number 17 barbeque spot in North America on the way home.  Eric also had a list of good spots for her to put up her drone both at Yosemite and on the road there and back.  

Reading more, it actually seemed like a lot of fun.  Most things with Eric were.  Spending Christmas Eve with Eric singing carols, being entertained and fed – actually it could be the best holiday she had in years.

-30-

The true Bracebridge Dinner at Yosemite.

#NCIS: Los Angeles #NCIS: LA #head canon #NCIS Los Angeles #ncis la #nell jones #eric beale