#jelly weasel

[endermen-impasta]

Fanart for Jelly (A separate post)

Can we be friends too 🥹

@onejellyfishplease

[weaselishmcdiesel]

Unimportant but I see that cat of the year thing going around with a screenshot of the op of the poll bashing jellie. If you do one lick of research you’d find the op apologized for it. I really hope no one is sending them hate or whatever over this please relax it’s just an internet poll

[endermen-impasta]

I can just carry them :D

*holds you in the palm of my hand*

HI! :D

[unhingedromione]

Aside from Luna, Ron is the hardest HP character to capture in fic. Anyone can be intelligent (that's why so many writers gravitate to Hermione) but genuinely funny people are much rarer. Book smarts is plastic, it's everywhere; wit, on the other hand, is a precious metal. Even Ron stans struggle with getting his voice right. I could write Hermione in my sleep, but nailing Ron's quips and comebacks often requires careful thought and precision.

QED Ron bashers are just jelly they ain't as funny as The Weasel King.

[askdacast]

hey block people fans, so I really love the Tanuki Joel/Smallishbeans fanart goin around as inspired by @mellozheist's design and it made me think, what youkai (Japanese folklore monsters) would we portray the other Hermitcraft/Life Series members as? Some of the more obvious and fun ideas I thought of:

Scar - Kitsune, easy. Charismatic, cunning wiles, enterprising, known for tricking people, tendency to be wet cat on the rare instance you find his weakness. Also kitsune are rivals to tanuki (although Scar and Joel aren't really rivals so much as occasional partners in crime). You could alternatively choose the bakeneko because it's also a wiley shapeshifter and cat connection (RIP Jellie).

Grian - Tengu, also easy choice. Not just for the obvious pesky bird connection. Tengu are also trickster beings. They are sometimes evil (abducting humans) but sometimes benign and teach humans secret arts. They are excellent fighters and leaders, but just like a regular crow, they can just as easily goof off for no reason at all. Dangerously capable but also goofy bird fits Grian to a T.

Mumbo - Kappa, maybe? He's not associated with water much iirc but the kappa from not iRL folklore but a certain series are associated with engineering, and I needed an appropriate one for the Redstoners lol

Etho - Kamaitachi. Weasel with sharp blades. Like a tanuki (Joel), but consistently sneaky, while also being just a little guy. Can probably team up with Skizzle and Tango for the traditional trio of sneaky people with sharp blades. EDIT: I know there's fanart of him as a kitsune to match Tanuki Joel, and I'm by no means contesting that, this is just a fun alternative.

Cleo - Yamauba/Yamanba. I'M NOT CALLING CLEO AN OLD HAG, LET ME EXPLAIN. DANGEROUSLY FIERCE AND INTELLIGENT WITCH WHO LIVES IN THE MOUNTAINS AND IS JUST AS PROTECTIVE OF HER (potentially foster) CHILDREN AS MUCH AS SHE IS A TERROR TO THOSE WHO CROSS HER.

Bdubs/Skizzleman - Oni. They beeg. They angery. They not necessarily dumb but they stronk and one of them has lived in the mountains at least once. I can even see Bdubs being like a Sakata Kintoki spoof (the "son" of a yamanba a.k.a Cleo)

Jimmy - Yosuzume. Birds of bad luck. Canary curse. Need I explain more?

feel free to give alternative suggestions or ideas for the others, or ask me what youkai I think might fit certain traits, I may not know much about the block people but I know a little too much about Japanese folklore so this is just a fun exercise for me

[boss-poss]

See, Lethal Company's real genius is that it somehow marries two normally opposed genres, those being horror and comedy together into something greater. Mechanically it's a multiplayer looter extraction survival type game. It's designed to create stressful and scary situations by forcing you to speedrun mini randomized dungeons while monsters hunt your character to meet a certain quota (our asses are not making quota). That's not the clever part though, no, that's giving the players the ability to fuck themselves over and the hilarity that comes from it.

Anything you say into your mic is said in the game world and can be heard by certain monsters. Many items, similarly, can be used to make noise and you can bet there is little impulse control when a player finds an air horn or gets a walkie talkie. The sound of a distant honk somewhere out of nowhere is not something most players are prepared for while in a pitch black maze. Sound in this game has a doppler effect, which makes it harder to hear the further away the source is, allowing screams to fade into nothing and unintelligible yelling heard for a second before vanishing. You must rely on your senses but those are, by design, limited and regularly tricked.

Because level layouts, monster locations, and item spawns are all random, it's insanely easy to get lost or lose track of thigs, especially in the dark and especially when panicking. Seeing a bracken for the first time will almost certainly send a player running in the opposite direction and get lost, if they even see it all. No one is prepared to have a hand wrap around their face and snap their neck in an instant. It's utterly shocking and will leave you gasping in surprise to first time you experience it.

Certain weather patterns make levels harder, some even nearly impossible (looking at you eclipse), and sometimes your options are avoiding deadly lightning or not being able to see due to fog. High level moons have excessively valuable loot but also feature the worst foes and cost a fee to access, forcing a compromise between greed, ability, and resources.

Dying, likewise incurs a penalties. Your team is fined for dying and not bringing the bodies back but if you all die, all your collected loot goes poof. Gone. A team wipe can and will effectively end the run in an instant if you do something stupid like stick around when you hear "pop goes the weasel" or try to pick up that funny looking roomba. You can almost feel the pressure weighing down on your shoulders when you realize you're the last one left and you need to get back to the ship or miss the quota.

The monsters likewise, are engines of terror that are comically effective killing machines with no cohesive theme to help anticipate them. The already mentioned bracken is one of the scariest things I've seen in a game, and those technically aren't even that bad. They're completely manageable if you keep your head on a swivel and pay attention to your surroundings. Coilheads are these mannequins with bobble heads that will path to and kill you in a microsecond the moment you aren't looking at them, weeping angel style. There's a thing called the ghost girl that I have yet to see but is apparently one of the most terrifying critters in the menagerie. Forest giants. If you know, you know.

All these little mechanics, these choices that are made by and for the player, create a maelstrom of unpredictable chaos that, like a buxom blond transforming into an orgasming pooltoy, turns what would be strictly serious horror into a unique form of dark comedy that layers over it like jelly on peanut butter. You are scared, you are on edge, and it only gets worse when you know what these things are capable of, but the sheer hopelessness is something you all have in common. It's funny how little hope you have. You will die. A monster will wipe your team. There will eventually come a quota you can't beat. You were doomed from the start.

So why not get silly with it? Why not try to fight that bracken with shovel? Fuck him. Why not just run past a turret and try to nab that fat jar of pickles? Why not wander off from the group? You're just as likely to come back with arms loaded and the quota met as you are likely to not come back at all. You're already dead, so take the gamble, do stupid shit, repeat this hell until you can meet its horrors with grim determination and put in the effort to afford that goddamn boombox. Dance. Just press 1 and dance the fear away.

You are all united in your mortality and duty, fragile sacks of flesh working to break even at the behest of perhaps the greatest horror of all: The company you work for. You are so preposterously fucked beyond all belief from every angle there really isn't enough adjectives to describe it. And that's comedy baby, when things are so bad all you can do is laugh.

[vulpisnocturna]

My deary. I see you are back (hopefully somewhat better), but I need you bad as ever!

Yes I totally ripped that from a song, but it’s literally what came to mind.

Been thinking *a lot,* per usual. About all the Uchiha men in my life. You know me, biggest Shisui slut to have scorched this planet. Anyways, if you’re feeling it, it doesn’t necessarily have to be Shisui—can be Itachi. Or whatever.

Wildcard list of hc for these men. Things that they didn’t realize were arousing, but then when they see you do them—it just tightens the slacks a bit. Probably something they should feel ashamed about but don’t.

And in all honesty if your not feeling it, then I totally appreciate you reading my wild whims. Or if something else, because creative freedom is always appreciated from my favs here, do something else.

I just really crave this man, and your writing of him. I eat the words your fingertips formulate like a rabid beast.

Sincerely,

Me 🙂❤️❤️

My darling! Let me see what I can cook.

Shisui - Itachi secret turn ons (?) 🫶🏻

Shisui

- puns. I think Shisui would be the type of guy who sees you make a stupid dad joke or pun and he is like

- red lipstick. I don’t know why, it just makes his knees jelly and something else quite… hard.

-sassiness. It makes him smile, especially if you’re quite a bit shorter than him, he thinks it’s cute.

Itachi

- I think Weasel Boy is into thigh high socks (me too tbh). I think he would stare like he’s trying to X-ray your legs if you wore thigh high socks

- Smiles. Your smiles to him are extremely sweet and also uplifting. And yes, they turn him on. One, because you’re smiling at him and his heart is going crazy knowing he made you happy, two because there’s so much cruelty in the world and you look so radiant and you’re his light. He’ll gift you a little smile of his own 🥹

- If you read to him 🥺 especially when he’s blind AF. He is going to be so in love with that stuff. Bonus points (and probably Itachi going feral) if you brush his hair while you read to him. Itachi when Reader does these things:

[taldigi]

Yosuke and Rise should need out about music. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them starts the convo to make yu jelly since he’s not romancing either of them but he could be, except also they should be so on the same wavelength that they can’t sully it with teenage romance politics

I like the idea of Rise being on team Souyo if she can't have Yu. All the fics I've read with that in it are so cute ;w; If anybody can weasel feelings out of those boys it would probably be her.

But yeah they really connect over music and dance. They've got a really excellent potential chemistry (outside the fanboy element) where I can see Yosk being really good at being her manager or at least a co-songwriter.

The fact that it makes Yu jealous is just a nice bonus. She hooks his arm in Yosuke's and then makes direct eye contact with Yu.

[endermen-impasta]

Sona Ref Sheet (pt2)

((height ref character was made by @onejellyfishplease go support them and their works ))

[tunastime]

A Minute in the Morning

so I started playing pokemon legends arceus. crumples to the ground. (2762 words)

In a hazy, rusty morning light, Ingo wakes up.

It’s a slow start—like his office computer, taking a whole ten minutes to finish booting, enough to stir sugar into his morning coffee and dissect his breakfast sandwich into parts. It feels like it takes just about that much time for Ingo to become aware of where he’s lying, which is in bed. Which is not where he fell asleep to begin with, which means that someone lifted him to bed and tucked him in. Which was rather sweet. Because he’s burrowed into the covers like a happy drilbur, keeping the cold from his fingers and toes and nose. He finally blinks his eyes open, and it’s sunrise that fills his room. Not his room. Scratch that. Emmet’s room. No wonder the blankets are so much lighter than he remembers them being. Nevertheless. Happy drilbur. He weasels a little more into the pillow. From either side of him, something moves. It’s slight, if there, but as he cranes his neck, slow and careful, he can see a dark head of hair on one side, and silver-white on the other. 

Ingo’s heart swells a fraction too big and too warm for his chest as he sighs out.

Elesa and Emmet haven’t woken up yet, which is a plus. If he were to move too much and move them he might lose the warmth from either side. Elesa’s shoulder rests against the crest of his back, and Emmet’s holding onto his elbow with one hand. The grip is loose at best, but the warmth, both from shoulder to spine and hand to elbow, seeps through him.

It’s blurry. Just everything. It kind of mushes together in his brain, like jam. Or maybe jelly. It doesn’t really matter. If he thinks too hard, his stomach starts to twist in knots, and he’d rather not feel sick while he’s trying to enjoy his morning. He remembers falling asleep while the television played the night prior—nighttime skits and commercials he filtered out until Emmet’s shoulder became the comfiest thing. He supposes that sometime between that point, and the point which he’s just woken up, Elesa came in, and at some other point, he was carted off to bed. It’s nice, though. The blankets make just enough weight over him to soothe ache and anxiety, and it’s warm, and he’s mostly thinking about how nice a cup of coffee sounds right now. Maybe a latte. Something warm. He shuts his eyes again.

The light is surprisingly yellower when he wakes up again. There’s still a warm weight on both sides of him, but it feels different than before. It stretches over him, too, more than just the weighted blanket that’s been added on top of him. He peeks an eye open to find Eelektross slumped over him, his large head curled near Ingo’s shoulder and his similarly large eyes shut as he snores. Ingo snorts, trying to shift to his back with the weight over him, without waking Eelektross. He does after a moment, settling once again, only for Eelektross to huff and fix one, tired eye on his face. Ingo smiles, just a little.

Wriggling a hand free, he pats Eelektross’ forehead, a path well pet and well loved.

“Good morning, you gigantic eel.”

Eelektross trills, nuzzling into Ingo’s hand.

“Mm, yes,” Ingo says. “I’m sure that definitely did not alert Emmet that I am awake, meaning I can’t fake any more sleep. Thank you Eelektross.”

The eel gives a happy sniff.

Ingo snorts.

Typical.

The door cracks open a moment later, the wide eyes of his brother peeking through. He raises his eyebrows, looking over Ingo and Eelektross still in bed. It comes with a little head tilt, something Ingo knows is indicative of an Emmet with a question.

“Sleep well?” he asks. Ingo nods.

“I think so,” he says. “I didn’t realize I’d be carried to bed when I fell asleep.”

“Ah!” Emmet says, eyebrows raising. “I made sure you stayed asleep when we carried you in. You’re a very deep sleeper when you want to be.”

It’s getting better, the gaps in his memory. It’s not enough to trust himself to start his duties as a Subway Boss again, but it's enough to have a few doctor’s appointments and to speak with police and his boss and their coworkers. He’s remembered their pokemon, which is why Eelektross didn’t startle him. And he’s remembered enough for him to fall asleep on Emmet’s shoulder with no care in the world. Enough for life to begin to settle from the chaos. Today is Tuesday, which means Emmet has the day off, and Ingo can tell, even as he reaches to wipe sleep from his eyes, that Emmet is still in his pajamas. He opens the door a little wider, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Ah,” Ingo echoes. “Was it Elesa’s idea to sleep in your room rather than my own?”

“It was,” Emmet concedes, smiling. “But I am Emmet, and I make a very good pillow.”

“You are Emmet and you are a very clingy sleeper,” Ingo says, letting his eyes shut again. Emmet makes a startled noise.

“Go-Go, don’t fall asleep again,” he yaps. “Your breakfast will get cold.”

Slowly, Ingo opens one eye, looking at his brother in the doorway. Eelektross snuffs into his shoulder, wriggling off of him. He grunts as the eel’s weight shifts off, leaving him free, but cooler.

“What’s for breakfast?” he says, watching Eelektross wriggle off the bed and toward Emmet. Emmet opens the door a bit further, takes a step back, and hefts the eel into his arms, knees bending with the weight. Ingo watches Emmet giggle to himself, shifting Eelektross in his arms to better wrap around his neck and arms, weight heavy against him. Clearly.

“Pancakes,” Emmet huffs. He’s still smiling, something almost infectious.

“Alright,” Ingo sighs.

“I also cut some fruit.”

“I’m getting up,” Ingo grumbles, rolling onto his side before he peels himself up and into a sit.

“I think Elesa left her nice coffee creamer, also.”

“I’m already up, Em,” Ingo snorts, trying not to laugh. “You don’t have to convince me.”

Emmet laughs again.

“Just adding!” he says cheerily, wobbling off toward the living room. In the open doorway, Ingo can see the sprawl of their living room and kitchen, lit by yellow daylight. Ingo sighs, stretching his arms above his head, twisting around. When the room settles, he stands, and he realizes that the room is warm around him. Emmet must’ve turned the heat on, and it must actually be working. He hums as he combs his hair back, wandering into the bathroom to wash his face.

When he finally makes it to the kitchen table, Emmet is sitting at the table, scrolling on his x-transceiver. He’s changed into a cream-colored, high collared sweater, his hair held back with a small headband. Eelektross is lying across the couch, head resting on the arm. There’s a plate of pancakes sitting in front of Ingo’s seat at the table, and a half-eaten plate in front of Emmet. He looks up as Ingo sits, raising his eyebrows.

“Good morning,” Emmet says. He nudges a cup of coffee toward Ingo. It’s a light brown color—likely the way that Ingo likes it. It helps they like their plain coffee the same way. If it were any other type of coffee, Ingo’s certain there would be some big disagreement—type of milk and way of prep and iced versus hot. But Ingo takes a long sip of hot coffee and nearly sighs in relief. Whatever fancy creamer Elesa buys really does make a plain cup of coffee so much better. He sits, nudging Emmet with his foot under the table.

“What are you reading?” he asks, gesturing with his fork to Emmet’s phone. Emmet holds it up.

“Article on a new electric rail system in Galar.” 

Ingo tilts his head, nodding along.

“Interesting. Any good?”

“Very efficient,” Emmet says, nodding along. He eventually pulls back, setting his phone face down on the table and returning to his pancakes. He takes a large bite, and through it, says:

“Maybe Gear Station should get some upgrades.”

Ingo snorts.

“We’re already quite efficient,” he says. “Do you think our trains could be quicker? Easier to board?”

Emmet shrugs.

“Wishful thinking. They’re already automatically driven, so there isn’t much more, but maybe longer cars to hold more passengers. Our trains are quite small.”

“Sounds expensive,” Ingo says, drinking his coffee. He pulls apart his stack of pancakes, poking at them with his fork.

“Maybe they’ve already got an upgrade in the works,” Emmet says. “It’s been a while since we’ve had an all-staff meeting. Perhaps we should inform the director.”

“Especially since I’ve returned and have about three years to catch up on, mm?”

Emmet smiles. It’s a bit tight, though. Ingo glances away, biting into his tongue. Should’ve kept that thought to himself.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says. “Though I promise you that not much has changed in the last three years.”

Ingo hums. He believes it, that nothing much has shifted. It’s hard to say, obviously, considering he wasn’t there to see it for himself, but his brother was never the type to lie without a reason, and this certainly didn’t have a good one. He takes a large bite of pancake and finds them still warm. It’s a quiet breakfast, between pancakes and coffee and Galvantula sleeping underneath the table. Emmet eventually finishes his food, shoveling large bites of pancake into his mouth as quickly as he can. Ingo watches him swallow with surprising difficulty, reaching for his cup of coffee. It takes a moment for Ingo to stomach the rest of his pancakes. Having this much food is a luxury he had not often afforded a month prior. His stomach still wasn’t used to it.

“Where is Elesa?” Ingo asks after a beat. Emmet talks through a mouthful of pancake and strawberry and maple syrup. 

“Mm, she had four battle appointments today, but she’ll be back around. Probably before two.”

Emmet is the first to finish, setting all his dishes together as he stands. He moves around Ingo as Ingo finishes, collecting dishes and setting everything in the sink. As Ingo stands to pass him his plate, he asks:

“Did you have a plan today?

“Mm?” Emmet hums. “No, not particularly. Why? Is there something you wanted to do?”

Ingo frowns, face pulling.

“Well,” he starts. “I was thinking—”

“Ah,” Emmet interjects. “Your first mistake—”

“I was thinking,” Ingo continues, narrowing his eyes. “That it might be a good idea for us to visit Elesa. I need to ask her for a new coat.”

“Mm!” Emmet startles, turning toward him. His face brightens. “That’s right! You do need a new coat. Good thing she’ll be over later, mm?”

Ingo nods. He fetches his coffee mug, pouring another cup of black coffee to balance the sweetened dregs. He leans back against the counter right as Emmet goes to hand him a dish to put away. They work in tandem for a moment, pausing as Ingo works to finish his coffee.

It’s a slow morning, 8:45am, and Ingo gazes back at his bed with longing.

It’s just. When’s the last time he had such a good sleep, right? On a bed that soft? He’d gotten so used to tatami mats and the grass and canvas laid out on the ground and here was a bed, with thick fluffy blankets and several large pillows and another person taking up space. It was very—stop it, Ingo—it’s comfortable. He hands Emmet his coffee mug.

“Ingo,” Emmet says.

Ingo hums. His eyes have drifted to the couch. Maybe standing is a little hard today. He should sit, shouldn’t he?

“Is my brother still up there?” Emmet asks, tapping Ingo’s head. Ingo startles as he does, turning to him.

“I would hope so,” he says. “Otherwise I don’t know where I’d be.”

“Not here, obviously” Emmet says. He finishes rinsing Ingo’s mug, setting it top down on the drying mat. “Though I’m not entirely sure you’re all there right now, are you?”

“Trying,” Ingo hums. “Too much going on.”

Emmet hums, a bit of a laugh showing through.

“You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I won’t,” Ingo promises.

“I don’t believe you,” Emmet says, shutting off the sink. The clean dishes sit on the rack, dripping water. Emmet wipes his hands with a dish towel. “You know, you should be resting if your engine isn’t working at full capacity. Rest is very important”

“Can’t be a well oiled machine with nowhere to go,” Ingo says, folding his arms. “I don’t understand why I don’t have the energy to move anymore.”

“Does the why matter?” Emmet asks. He’s leaning against the counter now, a mirror to Ingo, like he often was to Emmet. It was a natural progression—one following after the other, a mirror, a shadow, a doppleganger.

“It matters a little,” Ingo shrugs. “It matters to me. It gives me a reason.”

“Your reason is that you’ve gone through a lot,” Emmet says, pushing away from the counter. He scoops up his x-transceiver from the table, moving around it and through the apartment as he talks. “Your reason is that your body is playing catch-up with the world around you.”

“Maybe,” Ingo huffs.

“I am Emmet,” says his brother. “I am tired. I don’t sleep well. Do you think it’s my fault that I’m tired and don’t sleep well?”

Ingo grits his teeth. He hates this part—ever since they were little, Emmet would flip this hypocritical card, showing Ingo exactly how stupid he was sounding. It was good, for the most part, because Emmet was right and next time Emmet did the same thing, Ingo could follow suit with that card. But it was so annoying watching it now, watching Emmet throw open the blinds and shimmy open the window for the fire escape. A tinged-cool spring breeze filters in through the open window, tossing the curtains aside. Emmet keeps moving as Ingo thinks, the gears in his head turning slowly, still dulled with sleep. 

“No,” Ingo says shortly, watching Emmet rearrange coasters on the coffee table, setting game controllers back into their docks. “I don’t think anything is your fault.”

“Well now you are just flattering me, Go-Go.”

“Don’t say that flattery never got anyone anywhere,” Ingo says, pointing at him, waving his finger. Emmet laughs.

“My point is,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “You’re allowed to rest. We can figure out the steps from there, right? Even if we’re sitting on the couch to do it.”

Ingo sighs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Even if I fall asleep?”

Emmet nods, still smiling a little.

“I will wake you if you do.”

Ingo huffs out a laugh, feeling the edges of his mouth quirk up. As Emmet sits on the soft, corduroy couch, Ingo feels himself pulled forward, as if recalled, to sit beside him. He brings his knees up as he settles into his familiar spot between the back and arm of the couch. 

“Do you promise you’ll shake me awake?” Ingo says, leaning his head against the back of the couch. Emmet scrunches his nose.

“Yes,” he says, knocking his knuckles into Ingo’s knee. “I do. But I’m going to watch Alakazam! so you can think without my talking.”

Ingo nods. The television hums to life quietly in the background.

Emmet always watches Alakazam! at 9am. At least, when he can catch it. Ingo watches the last few minutes of the previous game show, something quiet and low despite the flash of colors and excited spread of energy. As the show starts, he watches Emmet’s face shift, that serious pull to his mouth and the furrow of his eyebrows that Ingo only sees when they’re battling. To see that spark again, not knowing how long it’s been gone, turns a question in Ingo’s mind.

“Emmet,” he says.

“Yes, I am Emmet,” Emmet says. “You are Ingo. What do you need?”

“I think I've got an idea of what I want to do today.”

Emmet turns his head a bit, looking at Ingo mostly out of the corner of his eye. His eyes flick back and forth between Ingo’s face and the television, waiting for his program to start.

“Mm?” Emmet asks. Ingo smiles a bit, a laugh stuck behind his teeth.

He sees the glint in Emmet’s eye before he even asks his question.

“What about a pokemon battle?”

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

April 19: Believe

Day 19 @hinnymicrofic

“Are we honestly supposed to believe you don’t know where they–”

“Shut up, Smith,” Ginny growls, the panic rising in her throat. “Or are you really as thick as you look?”

The train is crowded; anybody could have overheard them. A child of a Death Eater, or a gossipy Ministry employee, anyone who could snap their fingers and descend horror on the Burrow, on her parents, her family. 

She’s never liked Zacharias Smith, but now she’s considering maiming him.

He has the decency to look abashed, but Ginny is past caring. What sort of explanation does he think he’s owed, anyway? Just because he showed up to some DA meetings so that he could pass his fucking DADA OWL? He can piss off.  

He lowers his voice. “You’re the one who’s thick if you think anyone is going to believe that you don’t know where Harry and Hermione are. And Ron, sick with spattergroit?”

She’s about to hex him, but he continues. “I’m not the worst person who’s going to ask. I’d come up with a better story, if I were you.”

The words are sharp and jagged on her tongue. “Harry ditched me. I couldn’t care less where he is.”

We could have had ages… months… years, maybe… 

Smith scoffs, clearly affronted. “With the way you two were carrying on? Please, spare me the cock-and-bull story. You won’t tell me, fine. But no one is going to believe that shite.”

It’s been like something out of something else’s life, these last few weeks with you…

He turns his back, and Ginny fantasizes about turning him to jelly as he walks away. Before she can act on it, she can feel a steady hand on her arm.

“He’s a git,” Neville says firmly, closing their compartment door. “Not worth it.”

Rather than debate the merits of teaching that weasel a lesson, Ginny sighs. “He’s a git with a point though. Worse than the likes of him are going to ask me about them. Probably you lot, as well.”

Neville looks grim, Luna thoughtful.

“I suppose it is difficult to think Harry would ditch you like that,” Luna muses.

“He did ditch me,” Ginny snarls. “You know that.”

Neville stares down at his shoes, but Luna remains serene. ��Yes, but not really though, did he?”

“He did,” Ginny insists. “And you’d better help me convince them he never gave a shite about me.”

Neville grimaces. “Harry’s not like that though, is he? People won’t think–”

“He got what he wanted,” Ginny says harshly, wanting to startle them with it. “And he left.”

Neville looks unhappy, but then nods, acquiescing. Luna, however, gives her a searching look. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

Ginny closes her eyes; perhaps her eyelids can shield her from the onslaught of memories accosting her. Harry, waiting outside of her lessons; Harry, mucking about in the library studying for Divination; Harry, kissing her furiously against a wall, looking at her like she's the sun.

Harry, walking away from her. 

“I have to believe that,” Ginny says, opening her eyes and gritting her teeth. “So they will, too.”

[mafia-fish]

I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is you Yeah

I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need (and I) Don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree I don't need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace Santa Claus won't make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day

I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is you You, baby

Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas I won't even wish for snow (and I) I'm just gonna keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe I won't make a list and send it to the North Pole for Saint Nick I won't even stay awake to hear those magic reindeer click

'Cause I just want you here tonight Holding on to me so tight What more can I do? Oh, baby, all I want for Christmas is you You, baby

Oh-oh, all the lights are shining so brightly everywhere (so brightly, baby) And the sound of children's laughter fills the air (oh, oh, yeah) And everyone is singing (oh, yeah) I hear those sleigh bells ringing Santa, won't you bring me the one I really need? (Yeah, oh) Won't you please bring my baby to me?

Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas This is all I'm asking for I just wanna see my baby standing right outside my door

Oh, I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true Oh, baby, all I want for Christmas is you You, baby

All I want for Christmas is you, baby All I want for Christmas is you, baby All I want for Christmas is you, baby All I want for Christmas (all I really want) is you, baby All I want (I want) for Christmas (all I really want) is you, baby

COUNT YOUR DAYS YOU INSIGNIFICANT WORM THAT HAS SOMEHOW WEASELLED ITS WAY INTO MY SIGHT

YOUR BONE MARROW WILL BE EXTRACTED AND YOUR CARTILAGE WILL BE EATEN LIKE EXOTIC JELLY

YOUR REMAINS WILL BE COOKED IN AN EASY BAKE OVEN INTO PREPPY LORAX CUPCAKES AND SERVED AT A SNOTTY 8 YEAR OLD SEPHORA KIDS BIRTHDAY

YOUR REBIRTH WILL BE SLOW AND PAINFUL, NOT EVEN GOD WILL STOP YOUR SUFFERING

WELCOME TO FUCKING PURGATORY.

[serafilms]

just some of my fav content that kpop (boy) groups have put out (very specific!!!)

i spend many an hour on it (like actually just one hour) because i don’t want to work on my wips!!!

nct 127 hit the states: haechan x dallas

HAECHAN SILVER HAIR HAECHAN SILVER HAIR i will never shut up. this and purple and we go up brown/rainbow are his best looks idgaf. they’re just soo cute here and having so much fun and i can’t even believe how fun it looks :(( i wanna have a day like this

nct 127 hit the states: mark x vancouver

such a beautiful scenery and seeing mark be so happy in his hometown w the rest of 127 is so cute.

boynextdoor pretty u cover

SLAYED! nothing more to say. i love bnd performances they ate down period.

beomgyu kids’ café on workman

the editing is so funny in this video PLS and the way the little girls all hated him but the boys were obsessed with him 😭 the café staff are so fun and nice too 👍 i love beomgyu sm

nct dream candy mv

no explanation required. once you candy you never stop candying. the cutest music video EVER i love it so much. nct dream mv’s always EAT. hello future, we go up, chewing gum, go, life is still going on (track video but still cute), hot sauce

txt lo$er=lover office attack version

so creative and fun and they look so good 😋

nct dream rooftop fight

so glad they actually did this bc i was waiting for it for so long 😭 they hyped it up for so many years did NOT disappoint. nct will never not be funny.

stray kids fancy cover

THE WAY I ACTUALLY FORGOT THIS HAPPENED UNTIL JUST NOW WHEN I WAS GOING THROUGH MY YOUTUBE PLAYLIST. omg we moved on too soon

boynextdoor funnextdoor

i’m actually in the process of watching it rn but i’m actually so amazed at how genuine and funny they are?? usually a lot of groups (excluding survival show groups) take a while to warm up to the cameras and talk to them and be natural around them and their members in front of them, but you can really tell how comfortable bnd are with each other and even though they’re warming up the the cameras, they’re so cute about it and so natural and outgoing that it’s not awkward at all and so fun to watch! and on that note….

boynextdoor what? door!

they’re so funny omg also bc why are hybe editors so slay?? will never stop promoting bnd (+zb1!!! love riize too but they have sufficient hype tbh i need bnd appreciation!! 5th gen boy groups let’s gooooo)

zerobaseone zbtv

ok so this list actually isn’t specific anymore but can u blame me. they’re so funny in all of the episodes how am i to choose just one. zb1 are quite literally one of the absolute funniest groups I’ve ever seen. love them sm PLEASE stan before they disband 😞

eunchae star diary with sunghoon and heeseung

EUNCHAE !!!!! she’s so cute i love eunchae star diary 😭 this was more awkward than the jake ni-ki one tbh but it was really cute too 👍 and the way sunghoon kept trying to weasel out the tea from her like leave that girl alone hoon 😭😭

honourable mentions to the kyujin and hiyyih episodes too!! bc it’s so fun to see eunchae with her friends

en o’clock episode 12

the one where they did like the high up line training course thing idk what it’s called and they were wearing camo print like military ish stuff idk man but it’s so funny and their early days r so cute

en o’clock episodes 32 and 33

the irl among us episodes 😭😭

boys planet jelly pop

MY GODDDDDD JELLY POP ZHANG HAO I LOVE U SM. i wish he liked women and was 4 years younger and went to my uni. i purchased many zhang hao pc’s recently. jelly pop my #7 most played song in spotify. i watched it too many times. saved so many edits. ilysm king.

txt idol human theatre when they went to that house

the way the managers lifted taehyun out of the pool gets me every single time 😭😭😭

txt idol human theatre during blue hour era

my fav idol human theatre episode EVER. so funny and i love blue hour era sm‼️

stray kids family 3rd anniversary

skz with wigs will never not be iconic. and why did jeongin and felix lowkey devour acting elderly like???

to do x txt flying yoga episode 83

i love this episode so much actually omfg PLEASEE they’re so funny 😭 kpop idols doing any kind of strenuous movement exercise is my favourite content ever

to do x txt self defense episode 104

this one is CRIMINALLY underrated actually. wdym both parts don’t have 1 million views at least? can’t tell you how many times i had to rewind bc i was enjoying it so much 🫶🫶 i have plans to rewatch this soon so i also can learn some self defense moves.

run bts episode 55

this whole trip starts from ep 53 but them slapping each other’s asses and trying not to laugh is one of the funniest things i’ve ever watched actually,, this was one of the first run bts vids i watched on vlive and it brings me back when i see clips of it 😢

the nct show (nct 2020 but in 2022)

i love LOVE when nct all gets together :( nct 2018 and nct world 2.0 !!!! everything happens for a reason and sungchan and shotaro belong in riize but this video is so fun and they’re all so cute together!! field day episodes!!!!!! this and hybe game caterers fr

007” 00�� the nct show

same as previous with extra emphasis on I LOVE THE 00 LINE HOKY FUCK. yangyang ❤️❤️❤️ i need to watch more wayv content i miss him

upper side dreamin’ halloween version behind the scenes

sunoo dancing to mama at the end is peak editing. enha vs ghosts let’s go!!! they’re all so cute and funny in this 🥳🥳 the way ni-ki abandoned the camera man bye 😭

txt magic island mv

words cannot express how much i miss the dream chapter: magic era. how i wish i could find a song that makes me feel the way run away and magic island do. the things i’d do to listen to that album for the first time omfg!!!! anyways this mv and the run away mv make me so emotional like 😭😭😭 also old bts txt lore used to be so confusing to me like i would spend soo so long trying to figure it out

anyways that’s it bc youtube search and sorting history filters are ass so i can’t find many more but i hope at least 1 person finds a new video to watch from this.

[cosmiicblink]

So I got in my car and I drove over to the donuts shop

And I walked on up to the guy behind the counter

And he says "Yeah, what do ya want?"

I said "You got any glazed donuts?"

He said "No, we're outta glazed donuts"

I said "Well, you got any jelly donuts?"

He said "No, we're outta jelly donuts"

I said "You got any Bavarian cream-filled donuts?"

He said "No, we're outta Bavarian cream-filled donuts"

I said “You got any carrot cake donuts?”

He said “No, we’re outta carrot cake donuts”

I said “You got any croissants?”

He said “No, we’re outta croissants”

I said “You got any powdered donuts?”

He said “No, we’re outta powdered donuts”

I said “You got any frosted donuts?”

He said “No, we’re outta frosted donuts”

I said "You got any cinnamon rolls?"

He said "No, we're outta cinnamon rolls"

I said “You got any strawberry donuts?”

He said “No, we’re outta strawberry donuts”

I said “You got any chocolate donuts?”

He said “No, we’re outta chocolate donuts”

I said “You got any Boston cream donuts?”

He said “No, we’re outta Boston cream donuts”

I said "You got any apple fritters?"

He said "No, we're outta apple fritters"

I said “You got any blueberry donuts?”

He said “No, we’re outta blueberry donuts”

I said "You got any bear claws?"

He said "Wait a minute, I'll go check"

"No, we're outta bear claws"

I said "Well, in that case, in that case, what do you have?"

He says "All I got right now is this box of one dozen starving, crazed weasels"

I said "OK, I'll take that"

IM GOING TO D IE

[autiezo]

The idea of Emo Teen Jean Vicquemare lives rent-free in my head

[It comes from @slonechnik 's DE AU where Harry's still a gym teacher and Kim has to go undercover as one of Harry's new students, for an RCM case. JV's 15, so Kim's 24 and Harry's 25]

It's so fucking funny picturing Jean V. trying to talk to Undercover Cop Kim. I'm gonna strive to make JV such a cringy loser. BTW, I think emo kids are cool, but not Jean lmao.

Anyways, here's a list of JV emo teen headcanons (below the cut):

- Nicknames himself “The Dark Mare”, based on his surname Vicquemare (reference to in-game Narrator's incorrect pronunciation of his French surname)

- No one used to respect Jean or call him by his preferred ‘title’, calling him “Jelly Boy” instead. That is, until the Hex incident happened. Jean finds that any student using his actual name, ‘Jean’, is disrespectful; unless he gives them exclusive permission, then that means he really likes that person. He also loathes being called by his initials and all of Harry's nicknames for him (e.g. Mean Vicky, J.V., Emo emo emo, King Void.)

- If Jean is late for gym class, Harry will jokingly and loudly mimick an alarm that goes, "Emo emo emo" to announce the teen's arrival. Jean a.k.a The Dark Mare obviously hates this. In Harry's defense, HDB does this specific alarm thing for all the regular latecomers. Every student has their unique, mocking call.

- JV hates Harry with a burning passion, despite the man genuinely wanting to support him. JV also does everything to weasel out of group sports.

- When he was 13, he used to get bullied and shoved in lockers a lot. So he has learnt how to pick locks from the inside and outside.

- He has also stabbed his bullies with a sharpened metal fork before, to the point where he made them bleed. Thrice. Harry helped him to prevent JV from getting expelled. Jean did bite his bullies several times, and has bitten Harry before. Harry laughed it off and said, “Son, you can bite me anytime if it helps you relieve stress. You have my permission, I don’t mind”. Which appalled Jean, so he doesn’t bite Harry anymore.

- This is the Hex incident. One day, Cuno's uncle (Kubo) stole Jean's diary and tried to read it out loud to everyone, but J.V. used big words Kubo doesn’t understand, so only part of JV’s secrets got out. J.V. got mocked severely, and Kubo + his gang of idiots ripped JV’s diary into several pieces. Jean yelled that he’d curse them all.

The next day, Kubo got into a car accident, which resulted in him never being able to play football again. Someone’s parents divorced. The gang proceeded to lose at football against the girls' team three times in a row. They begged Harry to talk to J.V. so he did. After much of Harry’s pestering, J.V. reveals that his curses didn’t actually work since curses are specific and they didn’t do what Jean commanded. Jean refused to tell Harry his secrets and said he just wanted everyone to leave him alone. And so, a deal was struck, and everyone stopped being mean to Jean, but people avoided him a ton. Rumours did spread, so many students really did believe that if they upset Jean, they’d be cursed.

- Jean actually has great parents and an ideal emotional support system outside of school lmao. Loser.

- Does actually get decent grades in school. He advanced two years in education

- makes his own emo music and song lyrics. Gave up on his music dreams after studying Literature and Music in community college, when he realised that being an outsider musician won't support himself financially. At age 21, he became a cop and joined the RCM at the same time as Harry (HAHAHAAHAHA)

- Has a lil gay baby crush on Kim but would never admit it to himself. He's also terrible at hiding it. Kim is the only ‘student’ he'd allow to call him by his real name.

- Secretly loves disco music but pretends to hate it. Will subconsciously bob his head up and down to disco music slightly if it plays for long enough.

- Has two pet cats he adores and drops the emo/cool guy facade for. JV pretends and boasts to everyone that he actually wants a pet snake instead, but he's a fuxking LIAR

- Has a chronic need and desire to seem 'cool' whenever people are around(except his family)

[mortemoppetere]

TIMING: current PARTIES: @vanoincidence & @mortemoppetere LOCATION: a grocery store! SUMMARY: emilio and van go grocery shopping and everything is really normal. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

They were out of hot sauce. Again. It was Emilio’s fault this time, though he’d never admit it. The latest bottle had been yet another victim in the long-standing tradition of the slayer growing frustrated at the wrong moment. In this case, a burned batch of macaroni led to Emilio gripping the glass bottle a little too tightly, which in turn led to a very predictable explosion of glass shards that he was left sweeping up in a quiet panic. So, they were out of hot sauce. Whatever. It was a fucking thing, it happened to everyone, it was fine. He could just go to the store and get more, along with everything else on the list Teddy had left hanging on the fridge.

Why Van had decided to tag along for the ride, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“I am not buying you a candy,” he warned, yanking a shopping cart free from the jumble by the door. “You are a lot without sugar. I won’t add to that. We are only here for hot sauce. And…” He squinted at Teddy’s list. “What the fuck is chicken jello? Is that supposed to be chicken and jello? What are they using jello for?” He stuffed the list into his pocket. They’d figure it out. 

Turning to Van, he sighed. “We are in and out,” he told her sternly. “No playing at the little machine with the stuffed dogs in the glass. We get what we came for, and then we go. Okay? I will leave you here if you try to make it take longer.” He wouldn’t. “Just find the…”

The doors to the grocery store opened. Emilio froze. There was a giant slide ending in a gaping black hole in the floor. There were horses galloping through the aisles and running people over. A fan blew a miniature tornado around the floor. Emilio turned to Van. “How badly do you think Teddy needs chicken jello?”

—

Van had just been leaving after seeing Wynne when she saw Emilio heading to the store. She had nothing else going on, and being alone meant more than she could deal with these days, and after their newfound respect for one another, who better than to spend her time with? He hadn’t explicitly said no when she asked, and hadn’t stopped her from following him, so it was allowed, or so she deluded herself into thinking. 

She padded towards the store after him, rolling her eyes at his comment about not buying her candy. “I can like, totally buy my own candy.” She didn’t want to, though. By the end of this trip, she’d slip a bag of gummies into the shopping cart and by then, it’d be too late for Emilio to say no. Maybe. Van made a face at Emilio’s question. “They have some good ideas, and then there’s stuff like that, and I really can’t defend them. I don’t know.” The idea of chicken jell-o made her squeamish. Maybe it was for a spell? No, that didn’t make sense. 

Van sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re just mad you can’t ever win prizes, aren’t you?” She had spent the better half of her elementary years at that machine, and it showed. She was a pro. “I don’t even have any quarters, anyway.” The doors opened, and Van’s hand shot out to stop the cart from proceeding further inside. She looked towards Emilio, eyebrows pulled together. “Um. Hopefully not at all? Maybe we can figure out a way to make nature’s jell-o or something.” 

“I think they will totally understand. Hopefully.” Teddy was an understanding person! Van couldn’t imagine them getting up in arms about jell-o. But before she could try and urge Emilio back out of the store, a serpentine shape slithered from between boxes of oatmeal, the jelly-like eyes stopping her in her tracks. “Is that a gummy snake? Five footer? I thought they didn’t sell those–” It unhinged its jaws, jelly tongue and jelly teeth in full view, before making a move to devour either her or Emilio whole. 

—

“Then buy your own candy.” She wouldn’t. Emilio knew Van’s play here, knew that she was definitely going to try to weasel her way into free candy before the shopping trip had finished. And Emilio, ever the strongest soldier, would deny her no matter how much she whined. He made a pact with himself now, prepared to steel himself against her inevitable pleading. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to buy Van candy. It was the principle of the thing, was all. You buy a kid candy once, and she’ll ask a thousand times over. Kids had long memories when it came to things like that.

He snorted as Van, at the very least, agreed with him on the chicken jello. “They probably want to cook some big meal with it,” he warned. Teddy often had… interesting ideas about food combinations. Emilio wasn’t sure he had any right to question them, given his tendency to forget eating altogether for days at a time, but if Van agreed with him on this point, he figured it was a good question to ask. (Though, it was Van, still. Maybe he shouldn’t put too much stock in her.)

“I’ve never tried it. I would win prizes if I wanted to. It doesn’t look very hard.” Not nearly as hard as taking care of… whatever was going on in here. Emilio had half a mind to ask Van if she was responsible for this, eyes darting to the hole in the ground, but it looked different than what she normally caused. Less eldritch horror, more… cartoonish. “What is nature’s jello?” 

She was right, though. Teddy would definitely understand once they explained the situation. Emilio prepared to back out of the store, but the arrival of a giant snake interrupted the motion. He was just about to comment something dry and utterly unhelpful when the creature made a lunge towards both him and Van. Emilio rushed forward with the cart, shoving it into the snake’s mouth and tugging Van along with him instinctively. The snake chewed on the metal. Behind them, a creature with white fur and an unsettling grin scampered in, scribbling over the door with a paintbrush. When it pulled back, the door was gone. Emilio grunted in irritation. “Okay,” he said. “Looks like we’re… finding another exit.” The snake spit out the cart. “Quickly.” 

—

“Maybe I will,” Van challenged with a sneer that had little to no heart in it. They both knew that she had no plans of actually buying her own candy. She thought that was pretty obvious, and by the way Emilio looked at her, she knew it was obvious to him, too. The more time they spent together, the more he learned her tricks, but in turn, she learned his, too. It was weird, going from being perpetually annoyed by somebody to instead finding a level of understanding with them. Nearly losing both Wynne and Nora had done a number on them both, and with Teddy’s absence, there weren’t many others to turn to. Still, she was like, super annoyed by him and she let out a huff as if to exaggerate that fact. 

“I don’t think chicken and jell-o should ever be combined. Like, sure, maybe chicken stock is jelly-like when you refrigerate it, but I can’t imagine just eating that.” Her grandma had done that a lot with soup stocks, and it was always frustrating when she’d open a container of pudding to find jellied stock instead. One time, she hadn’t been paying attention and had taken a spoonful. It wasn’t nearly as good as when it was warm and not jellied. She cried a lot that night, scraping her tongue with her toothbrush to get rid of the taste. 

“I think you should try it. You’ll see how not-easy it is sometimes.” She hoped the machine would prove her right and Emilio wrong. If god were real, he would do this for her, she was sure of it. But they bypassed the machine and the longing in Van’s heart to click around on the big red button was subdued by Emilio’s question. “Um, bones. Probably. Yeah.” Gelatin was made with bones, right? Regan probably knew. She tucked away the question for later, still mesmerized by what was laid out before her. 

It was thanks to Emilio’s quick thinking that Van didn’t become a snack for the jelly monster. The cart was crushed between the monster’s jaws, and as Van felt herself being pulled backward towards the door, it vanished, just as a little creature scampered away. Van gulped, pushing herself to keep the anxiety at bay. The exercises she’d been doing with Teddy had to work, and she thought that the ring around her finger should, too. It should keep everything at bay. The great Melting didn’t need to happen, nor did a portal! They could do this without her doing those things! 

“This way!” Van grabbed Emilio’s sleeve, dragging him towards an aisle that was seemingly empty of any art. Except, as they got closer, the floor dropped beneath them. Van crashed down onto something soft, but the momentum was enough to knock the air out of her lungs. It took her a moment to understand where they were. “Are these– balloons?!” She looked around them, eyes growing wide as she took in the number of balloons that were reaching the ceiling. There were a plethora of different kinds, both plastic and foil. She could see her haphazard reflection in a GET WELL SOON balloon, and she refused to be a part of a situation where somebody would gift her one. “We–” She frantically looked around for Emilio, noticing he was more than a few balloons away. “How do we get down!? Do we pop them?! EMILIO, HOW HIGH UP ARE WE?!” 

—

“Great,” Emilio replied, knowing as well as she did that it wasn’t going to happen. He used to think he’d never understand her. The first day he met her, in the woods with the goo she swore was cheese and the desperation to keep her from eating it, he’d decided that she was the sort of person he’d never fully get. It hadn’t been something that bothered him, largely because he didn’t get most people. He hadn’t understood Teddy at first, either. Most days, he still didn’t understand himself. Not getting people was fine. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with it.

But… as time went on, he found he’d understood Van more and more, just as he had with Teddy. It was slow going, and often times she still left him puzzled, but he knew more than he used to. He didn’t think he’d ever be an expert — he wasn’t sure anyone was — but he knew enough. He knew she wouldn’t buy her own candy, he knew she’d beg him to get her some when they were done here. He knew he’d probably do it, because the way she made her eyes big and sad reminded him a little too much of something he’d lost a long time ago. He knew she’d be insufferable about it, too. That was the worst part.

He also knew Teddy well enough to snort, to put up a poor imitation of them by making his voice a pitch higher and attempting an accent that sounded more like a California surfer than anything close to his partner’s actual voice: “It’s good for you, Em,” he mimicked, smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “You haven’t even tried it, come on. At least take a bite.” He turned to Van, expression deadpan. “You’re right. We are not getting the jello. Especially not if there are bones.” 

Of course… they might end up getting nothing at all, with the way things were looking. The store was in disarray, and Emilio wouldn’t have known where to find chicken jello even if the aisles weren’t wobbling like the floor was made of rubber. Emilio managed to save them both from a giant snake, but they lost their exit in the process. And weren’t there other, bigger things to worry about? He let Van tug him along, away from the snake still pulling the shopping cart from its teeth.

He kept up with her as best he could, trailing along behind and grimacing a little more with each aisle they passed. That one was full of cartoonish looking bees in the middle of a court session. The one beside it had turned into a bright pink river with a frog floating atop a medicine cup. Finally, there was one that seemed normal enough, but stepping into it found them falling, Emilio scrambling for any kind of traction he could get. When the world stopped spinning, they were on the ceiling, balloons all around them. Emilio tried shifting closer to Van, but he felt a little unsteady. “Ceilings are high,” he said, looking down to the floor and trying to measure. “Maybe… six meters?” He grimaced, looking back to Van. “How do we get down? You come to these stores more than I do.”

—

“I don’t know meters!” Van rolled to the side, grabbing the balloon tightly so that she wouldn’t slide off. It seemed sturdy enough, but did she really know anything about this place? “You think all stores are like this!?” She gave him a look of desperation and disbelief. Why did he think this was normal? Or rather, did he think this was normal? “I wouldn’t take you to a store like this on purpose! You’d complain the entire time!” 

Van wiggled around, hopeful that the balloon she was sitting on would somehow float closer to Emilio. It did not. She reached out a hand, fingers ghosting through the air in an attempt to try and grab the tip of his shoe. She let out a huff, already annoyed by the constant squeaking beneath her with every move she made. She looked around them, hopeful that maybe they could propel themselves down the foil strings attached to the bottom of the balloons. 

Unfortunately, the large looking animated bee had other plans. It buzzed dangerously close, stinger fashioned like a needle as it began to pop every balloon, getting closer to the ones that she and Emilio were on. “I hate this town! There, I said it. I know too much, and I’m like, positive that it’s punishing me for knowing too much!” The bee was only getting closer despite Van’s hatred, and she turned to try and launch herself at Emilio’s balloon, it popped beneath her with the help of the bee’s stinger. She fell for what felt like an eternity, until the feeling of being submerged enveloped her. 

It was jell-o. 

“Emilio!?” Van called out, not certain if he was still above her, or somewhere in the hideous green, too. 

—

“Then learn them!” Frustration clung to him as he tried to convert the measurements in his mind despite the fact that it didn’t matter, anyway. What difference did it make the exact distance between them and the floor? The only important thing was that they were too high to guarantee a safe fall. “You do things that make me complain all the time,” he pointed out. “You were — The cheese!” It seemed worth mentioning their first meeting now, the way it had offered a quiet glimpse into the sort of person Van was. Of course she’d do something just to make him complain.

But… maybe that wasn’t the point right now. Maybe they had far bigger things to worry about, like the animated bee in the long, white wig currently flying towards their balloons, stinger out. Emilio cursed, scrambling to try to reach Van to see if he could pull her closer to the shelves before the bee found them, but it was a hopeless cause. The bee was too fast, and the shelves too far. 

The pop of the balloon seemed to echo as he grasped at thin air. He swore he paused in the empty space for a moment before falling, like one of those fucking cartoons Teddy sometimes put on for background noise. Bracing himself, he prepared for an uncomfortable landing on the hard tile floor, but instead, his fall was broken by something… squishy. Emilio half swam, half scrambled to the surface of something not quite liquid, but not quite solid, either. When he burst through, Van was already at the surface, calling out.

“I hate this town, too,” he ground out, rubbing the green substance from his eyes. It took him a moment to understand what it was. “This is not chicken jello. Is it?” Should they taste it to see? Or…

Something brushed his leg from beneath him, and he kicked instinctively. Whatever it was moved away, and a moment later, a bright blue fin broke the surface of the jello, circling the pair. Emilio clenched his hands into tight fist. “There is a shark in the jello.”

—

Van’s arms flailed out at her sides as she tried her best to push towards what looked like the edge of the jello. If she could climb up onto the shelves, then maybe– 

Emilio emerged from below, and she turned around to look at him, desperation (and jello) twisting her features. It was probably a good thing that something like this hadn’t happened to her before she accepted that magic was real. If it had, she might not have ever come back from it. Van kicked her feet, wiggling around until she got her other arm free. Finally, she reached out for Emilio’s hand, hopeful he’d have an easier time making his way towards her than the other way around. 

“I don’t see any chickens, no.” It smelled like citrus, and while she thought maybe eating her way through the jell-o would be the way to go, the idea made her stomach gargle in horror. 

“There’s a what?” Van’s eyes grew large, round as saucers as she took in the fin that circled them. She looked up towards one of the shelves she was closest to, seeing the creature who had the paint brush tail. “Hey! A shark is like, totally not cool! How is it even swimming in the jell-o so easily!” Suddenly, the creature extended the brush through the air, quickly and efficiently drawing what looked like hocks of fish before they fell from the sky, hitting her square on the head. “Oh. Ew. Ew. Ew!” Van closed her eyes as her hands moved around her face, trying to get rid of the fish that had landed on her. only, as her hand swiped them, she realized they were… plastic? Opening one eye, she observed the plastic, only to be faced with the face of the shark as it got closer from beneath the jell-o. Quickly, she chucked the plastic towards the opposite end, watching as the shark quickly made a beeline for it. 

It parted the jell-o, devouring the plastic fish, and Van noticed that the shark, too, was made of plastic. “I hate it here, I hate it here, I hate it here,” Van cried out as she wriggled around in an attempt to get closer to the shelf. Finally, she was able to grab on. Her other hand was still outstretched to Emilio. “I can try and yank– EMILIO, WATCH OUT!” The shark was barreling towards him, and Van tried desperately to will her magic to do something, but nothing happened. It was stagnant. 

—

Reaching out, Emilio grabbed Van by the arm and used the connection to pull himself through the jello, closer to her. Whatever the hell was going on, he got the feeling that sticking together might be the only shot they had at making it out of this in one piece. One disgusting, jello covered piece, but still. He wanted to keep an eye on the kid, even if she got on his nerves more often than not. She deserved that.

With the distance between them significantly smaller now, Emilio focused his attention on that fin circling the pair. “A shark,” he repeated. “There’s a fucking shark in the fucking jello, I —” The damn paintbrush creature was back, and Emilio shot it a glare. He knew that it was the thing responsible for all this, knew it had something to do with that tail it had used to remove the damn door. The chaos seemed to suggest it was some kind of fae, but he didn’t know if killing it would end the strange scenario they found themselves trapped inside. “Got lots of knives I could use to chop that tail off, pinche pedazo de m—” Before he could finish the insult, fish were raining down on Van’s head. Emilio made a face, leaning away from her, but… the fish were plastic? Somehow, it only made things seem stranger. 

If nothing else, the fish provided sufficient bait with which to distract the shark. Emilio watched as its head — also plastic — parted the jello to snap at the fish Van had thrown. It provided Van enough time to exit the jello, and Emilio felt some relief as he reached for her arm again. 

Of course, relief went out the window at her warning.

He turned to see the plastic shark closing in on him and, almost without thinking, swung a fist in its direction. The shark slammed into his knuckles, its nose collapsing almost comically in on itself as it was squished down, flattening its plastic face. The shark seemed to pause in mid air for a moment before falling back down onto the jello and sinking slowly beneath the surface. Emilio watched it disappear, turning back to Van after a moment. “We have to get out of here,” he announced, grabbing her arm and hoisting himself from the jello. “I’m going to lose my mind if we do not get out of here.”

—

Van wasn’t sure what she expected, but she knew that she should’ve guessed Emilio would punch the shark instead of trying to get away from it, or even trying to use the plastic fish snacks to his disposal. Emilio punching the shark square in the face was the least strange thing to happen here today and she knew it. 

At his insistence, she gave a quick nod, desperately looking around them as she pulled herself further up the shelf. Cans of green peas and corn fell into the jello, making a disgusting PLOP as they did so. She turned to watch them sink deeper into the green. Would things go back to normal if they left? Was this all some strange dream? Was the creature with the paint brush tail behind it all? Van had so many questions, and even if she asked them, she figured Emilio wouldn’t have the answer. He seemed just as confused as her. 

Finally at the top of the shelf (and out of breath), Van looked over to the other side of the aisle. It was… fine? Except for a hopscotch chalk drawing. It reminded her of Rosie’s drawings in front of Vic’s home. She looked over the edge of the shelf she was on top of and looked down at Emilio as he began to make his way up. “There’s a hop scotch thing over here. I think we should um, probably start from the beginning? I have a feeling if we start from the middle we’ll get in trouble.” She didn’t know if that was the creature’s rules, but she remembered being livid when her dad would interrupt her own drawings on the driveway of their home. Of how she would yell at him about not starting at the beginning, and how it didn’t count. Maybe that was like this. “We need to start over there.” She pointed towards the beginning of the hop scotch. She slowly got to her feet, staying surprisingly steady as she slunk towards the opposite end, accidentally knocking over extra canned goods as she went. 

—

Van climbed the shelf, and Emilio had little choice but to follow. The last thing he wanted was to lose sight of her in the chaos. So far, everything had been relatively harmless, but he knew how quickly the tides could change. The next time they fell from the ceiling, there might not be a lake of jello to catch them. The next time a shark came chomping for their limbs, they might not have plastic fish with which to ward it off. Even in a situation like this one — ridiculous and cartoonish in the way physics seemed to operate — Emilio couldn’t help but imagine worst case scenarios playing out, couldn’t help but pinpoint on every place where things could have gone terribly wrong.

Climbing the shelves was easier than it should have been; for whatever reason, things seemed to be lighter here than they were outside the store, and Emilio himself was included in that. With one hand over the next, he pulled himself higher and higher, keeping a watchful eye on both Van and the ground below them while also doing a few periodic scans for the creature with the paintbrush tail. He was positive that that thing was behind all this, even if he didn’t know how to stop it.

He got to the top shelf just a moment after Van, pulling himself over and doing a quick sweep of the store. The half they’d traversed so far was a mess of chaos, but the other side of the aisle looked… relatively normal aside from a strange drawing of boxes filled with numbers. Emilio squinted at it, confusion pinching at his features. “Hop… scotch?” There was no scotch in the aisle as far as he could see; it didn’t even seem to have beverages of any kind on the shelves. Van seemed to understand what the numbers meant, at least, claiming that they needed to start ‘at the beginning’ and pointing with her hand at the starting line. “Okay,” Emilio agreed, deciding to trust her. What choice did he have? “You… go first.” If he watched her, he’d probably pick up on whatever it was he needed to do. 

Getting to his feet, he followed her towards the opposite end of the aisle, adrenaline thrumming through his veins. When they got to what she deemed the beginning, they climbed down into the aisle, and he motioned for Van to go ahead and do whatever it was a person did to make ‘hop scotch’ happen.

—

Van nodded, “hop scotch.” Even though her father wasn’t there, she could see him, arms outstretched at the end of the lane. One foot, Vanessa! Two feet! Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth as the memory crashed ashore, but she couldn’t panic now, couldn’t follow that memory into what happened next– how her mother came out to yell at her for playing instead of doing her homework. How an argument would kindle between her parents and Van would be left sneaking inside, closing her bedroom door quietly behind her. If she got lost in that memory, then they’d never get out of here. Surely, the magic would pull one over on the ring around her finger and something bad would happen. So Van needed to keep her head in the game. 

She climbed down the other side of the shelf, grimacing in pain as her hands ran along the sharp edges of the plastic. It reminded her of when she’d been in a different store with Debbie, and how things had exploded around them as they crashed against one another in an effort to evade the glint of the knife. “You don’t know how to do this, do you?” She turned to look at Emilio as he climbed down the shelf. Van watched him for a moment, knowing that now probably wasn’t the time to poke fun, either. But god, did she want to. Part of her wanted to make him go first, just to see how badly he’d screw it up, but what would happen if he did? Would the ground swallow them whole? Would she finally experience what it was like to be one of the many individuals she’d sent below? 

She took a deep breath before she looked back towards the hop scotch, then she began. One foot, two feet, hop, hop. It went diagonal, and then in a circle, and Van did her very best to not stumble. She wondered if Emilio would be okay with his knee. She hoped so. She stood at the end that said FINISH, too afraid to actually step over that line in case something happened where she’d be separated from him. So she waited. “You can go now! Just like, take it slow! You’re old, so I get it, it might be hard for you!” 

—

She repeated the word like repeating it made it mean something, and Emilio stubbornly refused to ask the question clinging to his mind. Van, he thought, must have known that the syllables were utterly meaningless to him, must have understood that what she was saying made little sense. She’d either explain it, or he’d pick up on it by watching whatever she did. Either way, he wouldn’t have to cop to the fact that the plastic shark swimming at him through jello made more sense than the chalk drawing on the ground.

But, of course, Van couldn’t let it go without asking. Emilio grumbled under his breath as she raised the question, throwing his hands up in a frustrated shrug. “Why would I know how to do this? It is squares on the floor. I don’t even know what this is.” He settled onto the floor beside her, frustration making the pain in his knee a more distant thing even if only for a moment. He hadn’t been counting on this much physical activity at the grocery store; he had a feeling he’d be paying for it later, when the adrenaline of the moment died down a little more. He gestured wordlessly for Van to go before crossing his arms over his chest, jaw clenched tightly in irritation. Whatever this was, he could only hope it ended soon.

He watched as Van… jumped from box to box, going between standing on one leg to standing on two and alternating as she did so. Realizing that he would need to mimic this in order to make it to where she was, he sighed. Yeah. This was going to suck. He wondered what would happen if his knee gave out beneath him and sent him sprawling. Would the paintbrush creature erase him the same way it had the door? Would the shark grow legs and walk over to sink its teeth into his throat? Or would an empty pit like the one at the front of the store open beneath him and swallow him whole? Emilio wasn’t sure he wanted to find out the answer, dread at the possibility of fates far worse than a simple death clawing mindlessly at his throat. 

Hopscotch. Sure. He could do that.

He grit his teeth as Van called back to him, hating every ounce of uncertainty. Two feet. Hop onto the good leg. Two feet again. A hop onto the bad leg sent a blinding wave of pain over his head, and he stumbled into the next position on trembling legs, barely standing. He moved forward like this slowly, spending as little time on the bad leg as he could and waiting for the pain to pass each time he got off of it. By the time he made it to where Van stood, a sheen layer of sweat covered his brow, his breath trembling and his legs shaking. His bad leg held no weight at all now, hanging from his hips like a lifeless thing. “Let’s get this done,” he ground out through clenched teeth, grabbing Van’s arm and gently tugging her forward so that they both stepped on the finish line at the same time. 

The moment their feet hit the ground, the vast aisles of the store faded around them, and they were in a room. On one wall, a large picture window overlooked the floor they’d just been on; Emilio remembered seeing it from the shelves with the words Manager’s Office scrawled over it. In front of them sat a large wooden desk, the paintbrush-tailed creature sitting in a leather chair behind it. Emilio groaned, tired and irritated and ready to fight. He pulled out an iron knife, driving it into the table between him and the creature. “Cut the shit,” he ordered, “or I cut the tail.”

—

Emilio followed suit, and Van felt a pang of guilt as she watched the pain flash across his face. How many times had he mentioned his bad leg? Maybe they should’ve found another way, or maybe they should’ve climbed over the second shelf, but based on the buzzing sounds coming from the other side, she wasn’t sure that would’ve gone over well, either. She waited with baited breath, flinching slightly every time Emilio stumbled over so slightly, narrowly stepping over the carefully drawn lines. 

Finally, he stood next to her, and she turned to him, ready to say something, but Emilio was pulling her forward. Suddenly, their surroundings dissipated. There were no longer shelves with canned goods on either side of them. The floor was blank, void of the colorful chalk drawings. Instead, they had come face to face with the creature that was clearly responsible for all of this. Van frowned, heart skipping a beat. What did they mean if they were in front of it now? Her magic buzzed beneath her fingertips, but went otherwise unused. The ring that was twisted around her finger kept it at bay, and she felt it necessary. What if this was the last step? What if unleashing it meant something worse would happen? 

Van stood next to Emilio, taking a small step so that she was slightly tucked behind him. He moved forward, producing a knife that was now lodged into the desk the creature stood at. It reminded her of Nora’s knife– the one her friend had taught her how to practice with. It reminded her of Jade’s arsenal, too. Van blanched, but with a shaky voice she managed to stammer out, “yeah, what he said!” She bit the inside of her cheek, finally tearing her gaze away from the knife. 

She didn’t really want to see this thing die, even if it made their trip to the grocery store miserable, but would Emilio listen to her? Van took a small step forward, “we can just like, go! Nobody has to get hurt, especially not us, ‘cause like, he’s old and he’s probably already on his last days and I’ve got a long life ahead of me, you know?” Emilio wasn’t really that old, but maybe the beastly figure would find humor in her words. “And like, I’d really just rather not die to a plastic shark, you know? Or um, anything else that you might… be able to paint.” The creature looked at her blankly, and it was then that Van realized its pupils were different sizes. She wasn’t sure what that meant, if anything, but it was a detail she was sure would haunt her after the fact.

She looked to Emilio, ready to open her mouth, but suddenly, the creature was getting up from the seat, bounding towards them. It drew a circle around them with its tail, and then waved– it had waved, right? Van opened her mouth to ask Emilio if he had seen it, but a shriek came out instead as the floor disappeared beneath her. She closed her eyes tightly, only opening them as darkness enclosed. 

They were in the parking lot. They were out of the store. There was canned goods, candy, and jell-o everywhere surrounding them, but it looked real not like what was outside. She got to her feet, helping Emilio up, too. “Um, we’re out? I think? Right?” She touched the car next to her, and indeed it felt nothing like the objects inside. “I hate this place, can we please go? I’m going to like, only order groceries from now on, I think.” She paused, eyeing the jello on the ground before grabbing handfuls, stuffing them into her pockets. “For Teddy. Now we go?” 

—

She wanted to say something. He could see it on her face, could feel the concern radiating off her in waves, and he hated it. He hated the ache in his knee and the way he knew it would lock up later, just as soon as the adrenaline was gone. He hated the fact that she knew he was in pain, hated the fact that it wasn’t a thing he could hide. He hated the feeling of weakness that came with the shitty, damaged limb, hated knowing that it was probably at least a little his fault that it was this bad, hated that it was a reminder he couldn’t escape. Van wanted to say something, and Emilio hated it. So he interrupted whatever words had been aching to escape her lips, tugged her forward instead. 

There were bigger problems here than his bad leg. There were more things to worry about than the way he probably wouldn’t be able to get off the damn couch later, because in order for that to be a problem to begin with, they had to make it back to the couch first. They had to get out of this stupid store, and the only way Emilio knew how to do that — they only way Emilio knew how to do anything — was with a knife and a threat that wasn’t nearly as empty as Van probably wanted it to be.

The creature, whatever it was, didn’t seem very afraid of him. It looked at him with an expression that was impossible to read, looked at Van as she piped in. In any other situation, he probably would have laughed at the way she worded her plea. Jokes made at his expense, when they were like that, were among his favorite jokes to make. There were few things Emilio found funnier than his own looming mortality, much to the dismay of most of the people around him. It was a little funnier to hear the joke come from someone else, too… but he’d only laugh about it later. They needed to get out of the store first.

Glancing over to Van, he made a face. “Right,” he agreed. “We don’t want to hurt you.” It was a lie. Emilio did want to hurt the little… whatever it was. For the jello, for the shark, and definitely for whatever the fuck ‘hop scotch’ was. (He was still a little disappointed that there hadn’t been any scotch involved.) “Just show us to the door, and we’ll be on our…”

He trailed off as the thing moved forward, tensing and placing himself subconsciously in front of Van. It drew something at their feet, then took a step back and wriggled its strange fingers, and Emilio had just enough time to grip Van and take half a step forward before the ground disappeared beneath his feet. His stomach bottomed out, and the world went dark in a way his enhanced vision couldn’t quite cut through. The feeling of freefall tugged at his gut for a second, maybe two, and then it was finished. The world flickered back into place, and he was outside. He turned, confirming that Van was outside with him, then slumped his shoulders just a little. 

“We’re out,” he confirmed, glancing around to confirm it. A multitude of strange items surrounded them: jello, small figurines, a paintbrush. Spotting a cheap knee brace among the piles, he rolled his eyes. “Man, fuck that guy,” he griped, arms crossed over his chest. Van got to her feet, and Emilio let her help him up, too… but not before swiping a bag full of gummy candy from one of the piles. He thrust it towards her without looking, mouth set in a stubborn line that seemed to warn her not to mention it. “Yeah,” he agreed with a curt nod. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. And next time, we send Teddy to do the grocery shopping.” 

They’d probably love something like this. 

(Asshole.)