#I do not care enough about your differences to distinguish them

[freepsychicbiscuitfire]

The stupidest hill I will die on is that it isn’t ignorant of Americans to say they went to Europe instead of the actual country because Europe is not a continent just a country with an overinflated sense of ego.

[llamagoddessofficial]

llama i must know

do you have any thoughts about siren bad sanses? 👉👈(//ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠//)

do i

Horror: Now, Skull is a cecaelia. But I think Horror would be a little different. A big frightening toothed whale - particularly, a Risso's dolphin. Risso's dolphins have a cool effect where any time they get an injury, their scars lose pigment and remain white forever. Horror is slowly turning whiter and whiter as time goes on.

Just like usual, he used to be normal sized, but his injury kickstarted a bizarre growth spurt and he's become far larger than he ever should've. He enjoys targeting boats - since he's so big he can easily sink small ships, his favourite 'game' is ramming vessels and seeing who survives after the ship rolls over. He eats anyone who drowns.

I can imagine him falling in love with you from the water, and rocking your boat purely to get your attention. If you ignore him he slams into the hull in frustration. He'd never sink your boat, of course... not unless you were really, REALLY ignoring him, and he lost his temper.

Dust: An oceanic whitetip shark. The beautiful dark colouring. The 'dusty' white edges of the fins and tail. A solitary, wandering creature that's probably responsible for many of the open-water shark attacks attributed to other species... IMO, it's absolutely perfect.

Before joining Nightmare, he travelled long distances in isolation, avoiding large vessels or groups but hunting down and killing anyone (or anything) he caught alone. He'll follow prey for weeks; he often waits for people on boats to go stir crazy before he attacks.

He's a distant admirer. He'll stalk from afar, but come closer at night, when it's hard to distinguish his dark shape against the moonlit sea. He thinks you'll be a very pretty siren.

Killer: @aka-indulgence suggested Killer is a bull shark and she's absolutely right. Killer is hyperactive and murderous, but incredibly loyal to those he cares about (even if he won't admit he cares). Bull sharks are fast, notoriously aggressive, yet surprisingly social.

Killer just enjoys... well, killing. He sometimes plays with his prey, but the games are never as forgiving as Horror's, or as patient as Dust's. He likes to bite the limbs off of his targets and watch them struggle to get away.

He's extremely friendly to you. Worryingly so. He lacks any subtlety, he'll come right up to your boat and put his arms over the edge when he wants your attention, flirting like you didn't just watch him murder another siren in cold blood. A swift strike with an oar is usually enough to ward him off - but unfortunately, it never seems to chase him away permanently.

Nightmare: He isn't any one species. He's much, much older. He was something else before his corruption... but times change, don't they? If you don't know what to call him, he certainly doesn't mind the ego stroke of being called a kraken.

Obviously it would be ridiculous of me to make Nightmare anything other than a cecaelia. He's large, scary, black as midnight sea, beautifully bioluminescent when he wants to be. He has attributes of lots of different deep-sea creatures; retractable hooks in his tentacles, a toxic bite, terrifying teeth, incredible vision. He's not the kind of thing you want to encounter underwater. Ever.

The other sirens would be very reluctant to let Nightmare know you exist. But when all three of his underlings are chasing the same prey... well. You'll catch his eye sooner or later.

[maidenvault]

Okay so, Crosshair’s hand.

Has anyone pointed this out? When Crosshair kills Nolan, he doesn't use his shooting hand.

He uses his left. Just as he very significantly has to in the series finale.

I don't know if the writers knew as far back as "The Outpost" that Crosshair was going to lose the use of his shooting hand and by extension everything he believed made him strong, a "superior" clone, and safe from being discarded when he was kind of fascism-pilled. But it feels extra significant in retrospect that his first action taken against the Empire is not done with the hand associated with the terrible things he did as an Imperial sniper. And it's after he just got a difficult lesson about how his own personal strength and skills aren't enough to protect him - he was saved twice by Mayday, then possibly only survived through the night because he wouldn't leave him behind and could share his body heat. He may be using his left hand when he shoots Nolan because his other arm is tired from supporting Mayday all the way back, which only adds to the symbolic touch I love that Mayday is using his rifle as a crutch to help him walk as well (and of course, he's at close range so quite meaningfully Crosshair doesn't use the rifle to shoot here either). It all supports the idea of this as the first huge moment of transformation for Crosshair when he's finally turning his fire on the real enemy out of a desire to protect others, however futile and too late it is in this particular situation.

Going back and noticing this really reinforced for me that Crosshair's hand injury probably isn't just meant as a manifestation of his trauma related to Tantiss. It would make sense considering it's his shooting hand that it also has something to do with his inner conflict regarding his changed relationship with violence and killing.

The Batch were introduced as these stereotypically macho soldier characters, an impression that's softened a little as early as the pilot of TBB but still distinguishes them a little from other clones. In a kind of funny way you can look at the whole series as being about these guys who were only brought up to fight gradually discovering and finding peace with their more traditionally feminine sides - literally because of Omega, a female version of themselves who shows them the possibilities of being a family and living for others instead of for violence.

For Crosshair this journey is much more difficult and like a painful rebirth than it is for anyone else because being a soldier was so much of his identity. He's always been the one to most pointedly distinguish his squad from regs because of their "superior" traits that he thinks will make the Empire value them, and he clearly internalized the way the Kaminoans only care about clones as weapons to be used in war. And it all betrays how little value Crosshair actually believes he has deep down. It was easy to go into S3 being especially worried about his fate because he's believed so long that he's not good for anything but fighting and he's the character it was the hardest to imagine adjusting to a different life.

But in retrospect, it was stupid to think they'd let him off that easy and of course the whole point is that it takes a lot to get him there. What exactly he went through on Tantiss beyond the electroshock torture we've seen is never delved into but personally, I think being a soldier is something that's poisoned for Crosshair after he becomes a victim of the Empire himself and subject to their attempts at reconditioning. He's not psychologically able to be that person anymore, but for a long time is still trying to largely rely on himself and his own strength. He tries to sacrifice himself for others because he's still holding onto that part of himself in a way.

But for once in Star Wars we've gotten a fully realized redemption arc showing that sometimes what's harder than giving your life in a redemptive way is to actually have to figure out how to live with the bad things you've done and be better. Some of the people Crosshair hurt were his family, and he has to learn he can only make things better by being there for them. He has to learn that he actually can survive and figure out a way forward from his life as a soldier if he lets himself rely on them, just like he only survived Barton IV with help from Mayday. As @moonstrider9904 explains so well in this post, that is what's so important about Crosshair losing the hand and making that final shot to save Omega with Hunter's support. Symbolically he's had that toxic part of himself actually cut off and it's the final, most painful part of his rebirth. But because of that he's forced to find that he can live on without it, that he's surrounded by people who love and believe in him anyway, and that having superhuman skills as a killer was never what gave him worth.

No, having his shooting hand cut off doesn't "fix" anything or mean that Crosshair is healed. He's probably only begun to recover from everything he's been through. But all we really need to see is that he's firmly found his place as part of a family instead of a squad, and he's not going to be alone as he deals with all of that.

[bloodytittiez]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys [*gets shot*] I know I've never posted any of my writings before, even though I write fanfiction, but this has been collecting dust in my google docs page for nearly two years and it was too good to not share it with you my little kinky freaks/lh/aff (at least I think so)! I hope you enjoy this little smut fic - English isn't my first language so excuse some possible spelling and grammar errors, please... also, KEEP IN MIND THIS WAS A DRAFT! There's a lot of time skips and I doubt I'll ever finish it.

CONTENT WARNING: AFAB reader, vaginal sex, oral sex, teasing, heavy dirty talking, sex without condom, consensual non-consensual, phone sex, masturbation, public sex, porn with plot.

———

Red and blue lights flickering outside, tree branches tapping against the snowy windows of the sorority house. The soft, slow tunes and delicious scents of cinnamon and ginger cookies flowing in the air...

Christmas, such a family centered holiday where there's only place for laughs and sweet surprises, was completely ruined yet another year by him.

It was the fourth time in the night the moaner called. You could see your roommates gag at the blasphemies and curses the stranger yelled at the phone to each one of them– while you seemed to enjoy them in secret.

《Nasty… F-Filthy piggy. Bi-Billy has a big juicy fat cock he k-knows you’d love to suck on… I-It’s dripping wet and it f-fits in your mouth.》

You crossed your legs as ‘‘Billy’’ —you had no idea if that even was his actual name— spat nonsensical words for the sake of feeling some friction against your womanhood. His descriptions were so detailed that you could picture them perfectly in your head.

《Billy w-will kill each one of you… Tonight.》He breathed out in a way that felt almost a threat, his sentence getting distorted when it reached the other side of the line. Everyone could tell he was all tensed up for the way he gripped the phone.

《I can’t stand you anymore, you fucking pig!》

《Pig… P-piggy! Naughty piggy…》 The moaner repeated, mocking a very stressed out Jess Bradford.

《Jess.》 You interrupted the leader of your group with a serene expression, finally standing up from your seat when you felt her anxiety grow. 《Let me take care of the situation.》 You suggested while you took the device out of her hands before she would say anything, and covering the speaker you added something;

《Why don’t you guys go to bed? It’s way too late already.》

《But we can’t leave you alone with that creep!》 Jess exclaimed.

《Don’t worry about it. Someone has to confront him already and that’s going to be me.》 You answered, already building up enough courage to complete the task. 《Please.》 You looked up at the concerned eyes of every girl occupying the room while you could hear Billy talking to himself on the other side of the line. 《You girls need some rest. It’s been a long day.》

Jess and the rest stood there in silence, trusting your words. She gave you a small nod and parted her lips to articulate a silent ‘‘thank you’’ before leaving the room with relief. You knew she didn’t have enough energy to argue, and so did the rest.

You smiled when you returned to the call, grabbing the phone with distinguished elegance in your movements. A soft smile formed in your face and felt a sudden flock of butterflies inside of your stomach. It definitely wasn’t a good idea to play along with who you knew was a creep, but a part of you loved the thrill and danger in doing that. You could hear your sweet mother’s voice in your head begging to stop what you were doing as you answered Billy. To hell with her warnings of not picking up the phone to strangers!

Tonight was going to be different. May this be your very own Christmas gift…

《Hello, Billy.》 You tried not to come off as rude at first.

《Yes, yes… Hello there, my darling… It's so nice to hear your voice. You sound like an angelic creature.》

《Do you know who I am?》 You asked.

《 Yes... Yes, I know you. The quietest slut of the bunch. Billy loves to see your pretty ass swaying around when you walk. Yes… You filthy, nasty whore love to tease Billy’s cock. I know that well. Billy saw this naughty piggy touch herself… S-saw you cry out for Billy in the intimacy of your room.》

You couldn’t help but fluster at his obscene rambling and switched the phone to your other hand. You were the kind of person that would move around constantly when you felt nervous about something. In this case, a stranger that saw you masturbate plenty of times before. Poor you… How many times exactly did Billy hear you pronounce his name under muffled moans? You could feel your heart rate at the top of your throat, flooded in embarrassment as he playfully mocked you.

But; back to his confession though, you definitely couldn’t deny something that was completely true and after spending some seconds in silence you finally spoke up, a cigarette being held in between two of your shaky fingers so you could calm yourself down.

《Would you like me to do it now? Touch myself for you?》

《Yes. Yes. YES!》 He demanded in an almost feral manner.

You nodded in response to his pleas as the flame of your lighter lit the cigarette and kept paying attention to his delicious blasphemies. You were enjoying the moment more than you would like to admit. 《Touch yourself f-for B-Billy...》 He insisted, despair breaking in his voice. 《I want to hear your sweet moans like when you finger yourself alone.》

You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, letting one of your hands completely free and trailing down to your skirt as the mysterious man dictated. 《Roll your skirt up… Billy wants to see your juicy ass aswell.》

Your pussy soon got filled with two of your fingers, exploring every inch of your insides.

You were so warm…

So wet…

It was hard to believe how turned on you could get by the phone calls of a creep. Being manipulated in such ways by a man that you'd never seen before.

《I'm doing it, Billy…》 You sighed, moaning his name under your soft breath. 《I'm touching myself.》

The mysterious man groaned and panted on the other side of the line, incapable of forming coherent words. 《Move the phone down to your pretty slick… Billy wants to hear the sound of your wet cunt.》

His voice sent chills down your spine while you placed the speaker close to your pussy, fingering it with oh, such passion in every one of your circular motions. Obviously, you made sure that the sound of the friction of your digits was audible enough for Billy.

《Fuck…》 He groaned once more. 《I want to taste your pretty pink cunt… Oh Y...Yes… I will. I bet it tastes as sweet as you do. B-Billy wants to lick your tits and your round juicy ass.》 The man chuckled with a childish tone as you could hear him stroking his length while getting indulged in his fantasies. 《Suck on your nipples too… Squeeze those tits ‘till they turn red like two christmas ornaments…》

His words made you shove your fingers even deeper in you. You were getting too carried away right when you heard the mysterious man hang up the phone.

You grabbed it close to your ear, wondering what happened.

《Hello? Billy? Are you still there?》

Only the empty beeping of the phone answered you, leaving you completely disappointed and wet.

You took a deep puff of your cigarette and hung up the phone in return when you got tired of listening to the dull melody of the lost connection, then mumbled something and decided to go to your room for some rest too. Maybe Jess and Barb were right after all, there was no point on wasting your time on that fucking moaner guy you all couldn’t stand.

You turned off the lights outside, blew the candles in the living room and grabbed a little candy cane from the coffee table. You thought the night was over and your only comfort now was a little sugary treat.

But, when you suddenly walked into a dark corner of the stairs, a pair of big hands pinned you on the wall. An audible yelp escaped your lips as you heard a man's voice speaking in an attempt to reassure you. It was the same one you'd always hear on the phone.

《Shh… S...Shhh… It's okay… It's me, Billy.》

The man caressed your cheeks in a sloppy manner and covered your mouth. 《Pretty piggy… Where do you think you are going? Billy isn't finished with you yet… There are so many nasty things Billy wants to do to you…》

You tried to pick small bits of his face in the darkness when he slowly released you from his grasp. It felt rather strange to see him in person.

A tall figure partially hidden in the shadows, green eyes that would stare directly into your soul and long, curly hair caressing the sides of his forehead. Billy's description didn't fit his personality at all. He had the looks of a gentleman but the mouth of the devil. Although; you had to be honest about something. You still wanted to fuck Billy despite of his looks. They didn't matter much to you when his low and menacing tone is what drove you absolutely crazy for him at first.

His hot breath hitting against your neck soon turned you on again.

《Billy… I thought you weren't interested in me anymore. Why did you hang up on me?》You pouted, wanting to tease him as an act of revenge.

The way you said those words, with such a sweet yet innocent tone made the man react in ways you exactly wanted him to.

《N...No. Billy came a-all the way here to see you. Billy craves your body.》

You dragged his fingers across the line of your lips as an excuse to turn him on as well. You liked the way he sounded, so nervous. He could break down at any moment and you liked that.

The warmth of his digits along the surface of your puffy lips, bringing goosebumps across your whole body. You parted your lips and spoke again.

《How much do you crave my body?》 You attempted to lick his index finger to which got you a slight moan in response.

《S-So much...》

《Show me then, Billy. I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time…》

You finally confessed while you rolled your tongue out of your mouth and placed his finger on top. You sucked on it gently from the base to the tip.

———

Billy yanked your hair with such strength, dragging your puffy velvet lips to his dripping cock. His tip forced them open and soon his shaft filled your mouth hole.

Strands of hair tangled up around his fingers, both of you now locked together for god knows how long. You made the man shiver with anticipation as his tip brushed the back of your throat, leaving it hot and irritated.

You couldn't help but gag and drool repeatedly for he didn't give you a single break. But you didn't mind. You finally had what you craved.

‘‘Billy's juicy fat cock…’’

His words showed up in your brain, accompanied by a clear image of the cock that was stuffing your mouth in that very moment. Your horny mind couldn't help but recap every single quote that made you fall madly in love with him. Blame it on your degrading kink as a result of many failed relationships.

Billy bent you over with the same strength as before, ripping a yelp out of your throat while you grabbed the handrails so you wouldn't fall down the stairs and cause a scene.

Your ass now completely exposed was facing him, rubbing against his wet cock.

The man leaned over you and hands crawled around your stomach to hold you firmly as he would start rocking his hips at a slow pace. His left hand roamed free around your belly and later your clit, while his right one stayed busy pinching and twisting your nipples ever so slightly.

Billy could make you scream at any given time.

He could definitely break you. Turn you into his pretty little fucktoy, but having sex in a set of stairs definitely required some precaution.

《Billy. We should move somewhere else…》You gasped as soon as you could catch some air and already felt your whole body sore from standing up there. 《What if someone wakes up and sees us here?》

《If someone sees us…》 He repeated. 《I…It won't matter. I want them to see YOU moaning f-for Billy. Want them t…to see just how good you can take a cock.》

He purred into your ear as he covered your mouth to force your jaw open widely for him. Holding your breasts better around his hands he rubbed them together and squeezed them. You felt his wet cock pressing against your folds, desperately trying to make its way inside of you. God it felt so good to finally experience how all of his sinful threats came true one by one. Little whines came out of your mouth when you tried to accommodate to his size but he didn't let you. He was more than aware of his power and chuckled playfully.

《Billy's cock feels so good inside of your wet cunt. You are taking it so well. So tremendously well. Don't stop squealing, my little dirty piggy.》

You obeyed and let out a bunch of more moans caused by the pain of quick and deep thrusts. It was embarrassing to echo your satisfaction to an empty living room... And definitely hoped the girls closed their doors upstairs.

———

Billy noticed the red and white swirled candy that you were holding in your hands and took it from you while he turned your body around so that you could face him now.

Still holding your waist, he licked the candy cane until it would remain a little damped. You were staring at his eyes in a mix of excitement and curiosity the whole time and snickered.

He spreaded your folds and shoved the candy inside.

《Billy's gonna make this wet cunt even tastier.》

———

The chorus of early birds singing outside and gentle sunrays kissing your face woke you up the next morning. You stretched your arms, your legs and then… A pinch on your sore waist fully woke you up. You remembered what happened last night soon after that and smiled.

You sat up in bed and noticed a candy cane wrapped its plastic with a small green bow and a note. You had no idea when and how it got there, perhaps Claude; the sorority cat stole it from the silver platter downstairs and left it in your bed as a mere coincidence. You elongated your arm to pick it up and brushed strands of hair behind your ears to read it better.

It said ''Merry Christmas. With love, Billy'' in a surprisingly tidy calligraphy.

His name made your heart flutter and cheeks aroused when you remembered more details about last night.

You unwrapped the candy cane and tasted it, its sweet flavor melting in your tongue.

Maybe Christmas wasn't completely ruined this year.

[somneasims]

"EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER" Legacy Challenge

Welcome to the Emotional Rollercoaster Legacy Challenge! This is a 10-generation challenge based around a handful of emotions your sims can experience in-game! This challenge is inspired by the Not So Berry Challenge created by @lilsimsie and @alwaysimming, but I tried to make each generation a new unique challenge! 

Basic Rules:

You may play on whichever lifespan you’d like! The shorter the lifespan, the harder the challenge, but it’s totally up to you!

The heirs do not necessarily need to match the color of their generation (hair, makeup, clothes, etc) but it can definitely be fun to add that touch if you so desire!

The heir can be any gender, any birth order, and can be biological or adopted, unless specified by the generation rules

Money cheats may be used at your discretion (you want it to be fun for you!) however I recommend not using money cheats for gen 1 as it will cheat your aspiration.

Mods are allowed (again, it’s all about being fun for YOU!)

You may live wherever you’d like unless otherwise specified in the generations rules

You must complete both the aspiration and career of the heir unless stated otherwise, you must also complete all the tasks listed for each generation

(If you don’t own all the packs required for the challenge, feel free to change up the requirements to fit the packs you DO have)

If you give this challenge a try and want to share, tag your posts with #erclegacy, and be sure to tag me on Instagram and/or Twitter/X (@/somneasims)! I’d love to see your progress!

______________________________________________________________

Generation One: Angry

You've got big goals. You've always dreamed of making a name for yourself in the corporate world, and you're not afraid to step on anyone who tries to get in your way. There's no time for relationships or a family, not that you like kids anyway. Everyone else just gets in the way. Too bad you're incredibly fertile and not the greatest at birth control. You're prone to casual hookups that often lead to undesired consequences. But that's just a minor bump in the road! Let's be honest, you're not going to let a few accidental offspring stand in the way of your success.

Traits: Hates Children, Hot Headed, Ambitious Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy Career: Business

Rules:

Have a child with at least 3 different sims

Reach the top of the business career and complete the Fabulously Wealthy Aspiration

Max the logic and charisma skills 

Hire a butler to care for the children (have little to no relationship with your kids)

Never get married 

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Generation Two: Focused

All you've ever wanted in life is approval from your parent(s). Success in life seems to be important to them, so from a young age, that's been your main focus. You throw yourself into school, determined to get the highest grades. You don't go out with friends on the weekends, in fact, you don’t really have any friends to hang out with even if you wanted to. The only real friends you have are your siblings and your servo. You graduate top of your class (duh!) and go on to get a Law degree in post secondary, but even being a lawyer isn't enough to earn the love you so desperately want from your parent(s). Eventually you come to accept that you’ll never gain your parents approval, and learn to find love in different places. You vow to never let your own children feel the same way you did.

Traits: Perfectionist, Genius, Overachiever Aspiration: Academic Career: Law

Rules:

Be your highschool valedictorian

Max the logic, research & debate, and robotics skills

Build a Servo to join your family and have max relationship with them

Have no close relationships growing up, other than your siblings and servo

Complete a university degree (distinguished preferred) 

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Generation Three: Happy

If there’s one thing in life that makes you happy, it’s your family. You’re literally obsessed with them (and why wouldn’t you be? They’re absolutely perfect!) You support your children in everything they do. You never miss a soccer game or ballet recital, you’re always the first to volunteer for fundraisers and bake sales, and you’re the go-to parent when your kids need help with their homework. From their first steps, to their high school graduation, you’re determined to document your children's every important milestone so that everyone else can see how perfect they are. There’s nothing more important to you than your family, and as long as they’re happy, you’re happy.

Traits: Cheerful, Good, Family-Oriented Aspiration: Big Happy Family Career: Education

Rules:

Max the parenting, photography, and baking skills

Marry a sim who already has at least 1 child

Have triplets (you may use cheats for this) (You may also have more children if you so desire)

Volunteer with your family every saturday

Collect photos of your children at all their life stages and important events, and display these in your home

______________________________________________________________

Generation Four: Confident

The world revolves around you, and anyone who doesn't see that is wrong. From the moment you could form a thought in your head, you knew you were meant to be a star. The spotlight has always loved you just as much as you've loved it. You strongly believe that any publicity is good publicity, as long as your name is in the headline. Everything you do is for fame, including your marriage to another celebrity superstar. Too bad they're not at all your type, but who cares, it's all for show, right? As long as the public loves you and they don't find out about your secret love affair, nothing could go wrong!

Traits: Self-Assured, Self-Absorbed, Cringe Aspiration: World-Famous Celebrity Career: Actor

Rules:

Max the acting, dancing, singing and Charisma skills. Reach level 8 in at least 1 instrument skill

Reach Celebrity Level 5 (Global Superstar)

Marry another famous sim (for the publicity) but get caught cheating with your real lover

Have only 1 child

Win a Starlight Accolade

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Generation Five: Embarrassed

You've always hated being the center of attention. Growing up, your whole life was documented in the media, thanks to your celebrity parents. You've had your every move scrutinized by the public, every personal and embarrassing moment shared online for the world to see. It's no wonder you now avoid any form of media that might have something to say about you. When you finally come of age, you choose to disappear from the public eye. You move into a tiny home in the middle of nowhere and vow that you'll never subject your children to the dangers of modern media. You earn your money only by selling whatever you can grow, harvest, or make on your farm, and enjoy spending much of your time outdoors. Who needs all that technology anyways? You're completely self-sufficient off-the-grid.

Traits: Loves the Outdoors, Socially Awkward, Unflirty Aspiration: Country Caretaker Career: Self-Employed

Rules:

Must live in an "off the grid" tiny home (can be tier 1, 2 or 3) from young adulthood on

Max the Gardening, Fabrication, Herbalism, and flower arranging skills

Have 10 Children 

Adopt at least 1 llama, cow, goat or sheep

Have no electronics in your home (other than your cell phone since we can't seem to get rid of that) - no TV’s, no radios, no computers etc. 

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Generation Six: Flirty

As one of 10 kids, you've always felt like a little bit of an afterthought in your home. With so many siblings, it's hard to get a word in at the best of times. Nobody really notices when you skip your garden chores in favor of a good romance novel. You just really love love, and you can’t help but dream of your own fairytale ending. When you aren’t reading (or daydreaming), you enjoy cooking for your friends and family. As a young adult, you turn your passion for cooking into a career and open your own restaurant. But just when it seems like you might be close to achieving your fairytale life, a failed engagement leaves you questioning everything you’ve ever known about love. Maybe you’ve wasted all this time searching for your perfect match, when your true happy ending was right in front of you all along.

Traits: Romantic, Foodie, Bookworm Aspiration: Soulmate Career: Culinary

Rules:

Max the cooking, gourmet cooking, and mixology skills

Own a 5 star restaurant 

Have a failed engagement

Marry your childhood best friend

Adopt at least one child

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Generation Seven: Energized

Your whole life, you've been a ball of energy. Sitting still is just simply not an option for you. From the sports field to the ski slopes, you're always on the go. Adventure calls your name around every corner. Some might even call you a bit of a daredevil. There's very little that you fear, which honestly proves to be quite handy in your career field (but shhh, that's a secret). Few people can keep up with your spunk, but those who do hold a special place in your heart. You've got goals as high as the tallest mountain, and nothing is going to stop you from reaching your peak.

Traits: Active, Adventurous, Bro Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast Career: Secret Agent

Rules:

Join the football or cheerleading team in high school and reach the max level (if you have HSY)

When you become a young adult, move to Mt. Komorebi (to be close to the slopes)

Max the fitness and rock climbing skills

Max at least one of either the Skiing or Snowboarding skills (or both if you want)

Reach the peak of Mt. Komorebi

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Generation Eight: Sad

You're nothing like your parents. Where they're energetic and optimistic, you're tired and gloomy. You can’t quite figure out how others can be so happy while you’re so sad. As you grow up, the things you used to enjoy no longer hold your interest, and you realize that you don’t have much in common with your childhood friends. You try to find new interests and goals, and take a crack at going to university, but still, nothing feels right. The same goes for your romantic relationships, that just never quite seem to work out for you. You’ve always had a passion for writing, and you enjoy playing video games, so eventually you decide to try to lean into those hobbies. This decision leads you down a brand new path, with new friends and new opportunities, and the belief that maybe, just maybe, your life may not end up as sad as you once thought it would be.

Traits: Gloomy, Loner, Geek Aspiration: Bestselling Author Career: Tech guru

Rules:

Have multiple close friends as a child, but lose touch with all but 1 as a teen. Make 3 new close friends as a young adult who all live in different cities (worlds)

Enroll in University but drop out after 1 semester. Do this 2x, changing your major each time (never complete a degree)

Must live in your parent(s) basement until you are an adult (or until they pass away)

Have a partner cheat on you

Max the video gaming, programming and writing skills

______________________________________________________________

Generation Nine: Playful

Life's a party, and your only goal is to live it to the fullest. If you're not having a good time, then what's the point? Why waste your time with boring things like school or chores when you could be out partying with your friends? You're determined to have as many friends as possible, and that includes everyone on the internet. You thrive on likes and follows and adore making fun content for your fans online. Like, share, and subscribe!

Traits: Goofball, Party Animal, Dance Machine Aspiration: Friend of the World Career: Social Media

Rules:

Get Expelled from High School (you may choose to re-enroll or not, that's up to you!)

Max the charisma, mischief, and media production skills

Max either the DJ Mixing or Dancing skill (or both if you want)

Have 25 million followers

Host a social event every weekend and achieve gold in at least 5 different event types

______________________________________________________________

Generation Ten: Inspired

Everything in life has beauty, and you just can’t help but feel inspired by it all. Creativity flows through you like the blood in your veins and you can’t wait to show the world what you can create. As a teen, you graduate school early and move to the big city. You get a small apartment in the Arts District and make extra cash selling your paintings at street fairs, or by busking around town. As a young adult you decide to follow your dreams of becoming a musician, while still continuing to sell your artwork on the side. Whether it’s a paintbrush or a guitar pick in your hand, your fingers spew talent like magic. You’re proud of everything you create (as you should be), so you open a gallery to display your work and inspire future generations for years to come. 

Traits: Creative, Art Lover, Music Lover Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire Career: Entertainer

Rules:

If given the option, you must graduate high school early

Must move out as a teen and get an apartment in the Art District of San Myshuno

Max the painting, piano, guitar and violin skills

Keep every “masterpiece” you create

Open an art gallery to display your work (build a gallery in Build/Buy mode, or purchase a retail business to transform into a gallery)

______________________________________________________________

I've been working on this challenge for a while and am so excited to finally share it with you! I hope you all enjoy! xoxo @somneasims

[sh1-n0bu]

Can u do yandere Beel-obey me with a impulsive/lil crazy mc/reader? In a minute she is calm and in the other she tries to kill a random demon. May u can do him a lil masochist too? Pretty pleaseee 🙏

✿ 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙯𝙮 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 ✿

characters: yandere!beel x fem!reader

warnings: generally darker undertones bc it’s a yandere, description of fighting, injuries, mentions of blood, yandere thoughts and acts, masochism, hinted that mc have signs of anger issues and bipolarity, some suggestive things

notes: ‘m so so so sorry for the late response hun. i just couldn’t rlly think of a good scenarios for this one😔 hope it’s to your liking!

everyone experiences bipolarity and anger issues differently. i am no mental health expert and i wrote this with my own anger issues experience and a friend's bipolarity. if some things seem wrong or unlikely then pls let me know.

since mc is literally living with demons, there definitely will be some darker/gruesome moments brushed off as a normal thing bc they’re demons

so with that in mind, being possessive, protective, a bit too overbearing or controlling is seen as a normal thing in a relationship for them

however beel is much more chill and softer when it comes to such things

it’s bc he has great GREAT amount of trust in you plus he knows no sane, lower demon would never dare and approach you

either bc of the pact markings of the 7 demon lords of devildom or

your impulsive self.

yep.

that’s the reason.

at first meeting and the first few days or weeks into mc’s stay in devildom, the brothers either find mc’s impulsiveness and anger issues relatable, amusing or just downright annoying

as for beel he didn’t really care. as long as you didn’t get yourself killed or gravely injured

if anything in the beginning it low-key reminded beel of his twin, belphie

mc’s dark humor, threatening back demons about how they will puck out their teeth, boil it into a soup and shove it down their throat while it’s still steaming hot were first annoying to most of the brothers

however to beel, it just reminded him of how his brother would always snap back at the other demons and more specifically, lucifer

perhaps that little resemblance is what led beel to be protective and possessive over mc

it started out slow and barely noticeable lingering hands over their shoulders, small worried glances, giving them ice package to put over their bruised knuckles

soon it developed into beel constantly hovering around mc, threatening to eat the other lesser demons who even dared to gaze at them to scenting

when scenting your partner in a demon relationship, it usually involves leaving visible marks on each other since demons all have different distinguishable markings

whether it be carving their marks into their s/o’s flesh with their claws, leaving a bloody bite mark or sometimes even their pact markings on each other

however, considering the fact beel is more gentler than the other demons and your a human, he simply decided that cuddling with you for so long to the point that others could smell beel’s sin and scent on you or just draping his large, fluffy orange jacket over you was enough

unfortunately, demons are beings that generally have a darker mindset than humans so one day some lesser, cocky demon mocked you for being “beel’s pet” while you were alone

mc paid that demon back with a broken nose and a broken arm that bent the wrong way (like this __^__🫴)

the terrified screeching of the onlookers and the anguish filled cries of the cocky bastard alongside the blood dripping from the claw marks the demon left on mc called upon the attention of the brothers

when arriving at the scene beel couldn’t help but feel an odd feeling within him

something hot, mushy and dizzying feeling pooling in his stomach, his mind getting hazy, eyes half lidded with the only focus of attention being on you

asmo sensed his brother’s sudden arousal and dragged him off from the crowd, sitting him down in one of the empty classrooms and having a talk with him. helping him calm down and explaining to his little brother that sometimes people get aroused by people who are stronger than them

since that little incident with mc and the cocky demon, beel has never went a day without his mind wandering to the scene he saw

you standing tall and proud with a bloody claw mark running from your chin to your neck with an odd triumphant grin while the lower insect screeched, holding his broken arm

and when he lets his daydreaming go wild, the sixth brother finds himself fantasizing about you sitting on him with the same grin, carving your initials on his chest

the scent of blood oozing around the room, the quiet giggles that would slip out of your lips as he groans and whimpers at the odd yet pleasant feeling

and when his imaginations go further than that, the avatar of sin of gluttony finds himself choking on his breath, pants tightening and the room feeling hotter than the usual

perhaps paying a visit to your room this night won’t be such a bad idea…

[c-optimistic]

Hey, i saw you tagged something with "#Kara has been okay with dying for a very long time#makes me wanna write about it" and I just thought I'd pop in to say that if you write about it I would love to read it :D

The Phantoms lie.

She knows this, she knows this. But the truth is, the Phantoms do more than just lie.

They twist memories, create waking nightmares, force you to relive the most painful things your own mind can conjure up.

(And Kara’s mind is a dark place.)

She can distinguish it at first, what’s real and what’s not real. There’s a lot giving away the fake memories, the implanted thoughts. Little details that give Kara enough distance from what she’s seeing to recognize it’s not real.

Things like cruel smirks on Alex’s lips that she never wore in reality.

Things like J’onn’s distrustful eyes following her, like Nia’s disgust when she appears, like Brainy’s disappointed shake of his head when she takes another step.

But then, she loses focus. She loses her grip on reality. Because she sees Lena’s tearstained face, hears her blaming Kara for lies and betrayal and loss and...it’s all true. It’s true, and she finds she can’t tell the difference between the Phantoms’ lies and her own bitter memories.

(She takes another step, needing to keep moving, needing to find a way out, needing to get home.

The lies, the memories, and the hurt all follow.)

It’s cold in the Phantom Zone. Cold, dark, and utterly silent. There’s nothing but the sound of her boots against gravelly soil, chattering teeth, and guilt and blame ringing in her ears, the voices of her friends and family shouting at her, not wanting her, hating her.

(The Phantoms lie. She knows this.

She has to know this.)

There are no signs of passing days. There’s no rising and setting sun, no waxing or waning moons, no indication that time passes at all. At first, she tries to count, to create her own sense of time, using the numbers to block out the voices and the visions, but she loses track, loses focus, watches everyone she loves die and wishes she died with them.

(The Phantoms lie.

She thinks she knows this.)

Kara takes another step. And another.

(It’s painfully cold. Her thoughts make her feel colder.)

A step. She has to keep moving, even if she’s unsure where she’s going. Why is she still going?

(The Phantoms lie.

But lies with a foundation of truth are always easier to believe.)

Kara stops, surrounded by images of all her dead loved ones, and she drops to her knees to join them.

///

When she wakes, she’s in a small cave-like structure, a glow emanating from a fire that gives off no heat.

And the man who has rescued her, the man in the robes and defeated eyes, is her father.

When he notices she’s awake, he’s careful to shift, appear as non-threatening as possible, smiling benignly at her. And Kara just lays there, staring, wondering if she’s dead or if this is just yet another ghost sent to haunt her.

“Kara,” he says finally, breaking the silence, his voice cracked from disuse, tongue clearly not practiced with the single word he utters.

“I’m dead,” Kara guesses, sitting up, watching the robed man who has taken the guise of her father carefully. “Right?”

“No, you are not dead.”

“But you’re not him,” she says, not really accusatory, just stating a fact. He looks at her sadly, like she’s hurting him.

“I am Zor El,” he says, almost like he believes it. “I am husband to Alura. Brother to Jor El. And most importantly, father to Kara Zor El.”

Kara gets to her feet shakily, stepping as far back from him as she can, back pressed against the cave walls. “No, stop. Zor El is dead. He died. He put me in a pod, alone, and sent me off, and he stayed to die with Krypton.”

Like I should have, she doesn’t say. I should have died too.

“You’re not real,” she tells him, meeting his gaze defiantly. The robed man, the man who calls himself Zor El, the stranger, lets out a sigh and hangs his head.

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he tells her quietly. “You know this.”

///

They begin their journey. Her hallucination tells her there’s some sort of outpost. A place she can perhaps send out a message, they merely need to get to it. He tells her he will go with her.

He tells her to be strong.

(And she wonders if this ghost knows what she’s thinking, if he can look into her mind and read those dark thoughts she can’t seem to shake.

Because even as she takes step after arduous step, she is focused on a singular notion: perhaps the universe would be better off with her dead. Perhaps fighting had no use at all.

Perhaps, in those endless days, dark and cold and alone in her pod, aimlessly floating through the vast expanse of space, she should have given up. Perhaps it would have been better.)

Ghost-Zor El doesn’t touch her, but she feels his heavy gaze on her, and she turns to him.

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he reminds her, giving her a smile that brings back memories of her father, of sitting in his lab and learning more about his work, of listening to his stories, of watching him when he wasn’t paying attention. “You should know this.”

///

Stay warm, he tells her. Find shelter, he reminds her. Conserve your energy, he advises her.

Rest, he says, rest and keep fighting to get home—back to those you love.

She doesn’t ask him how he knows she has loved ones, people she desperately wants to get back to. She merely listens without complaint, obeying thoughtlessly to his suggestions, and lets her mind go blank.

“Are you real?” she asks him after what feels like several days, but could have been weeks or months or years.

Her hallucination never comes too close to her, but he smiles her father’s smiles and that’s enough for her. “The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he says softly, his voice lulling her to sleep. “Don’t forget this.”

///

Everything aches. Each step takes energy she just doesn’t have. It’s as though all the weight she’s always carried, all the grief and pain and regret, has finally become too much, sapping her of everything she has left.

She buckles under the burden, but before she can fall, she feels a strong grip around her arm, dragging her up back to her feet.

“You must keep going,” her father’s ghost tells her, his eyes sad, no warmth from where his fingers are closed around her arm. “This is not where you fall.”

“But it can be,” Kara murmurs hopelessly. And it occurs to her, she’s not quite sure what she’s still fighting for.

A sister who she overshadowed and whose family she ripped apart? Friends who were terrified of her and what was capable of? And Lena—Lena, who Kara has loved from the day they met, but who she has hurt so completely that the CEO will never be the same?

(Kara has been okay with dying for a long time. Okay with dying in her pod. Okay with dying to save Earth. Okay with dying to protect those she loves.

And here now, she’s okay with dying with her father’s ghost—finally, finally joining him.)

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” the fake Zor El says firmly, forcing her to take another step. “You must remember this. The Phantoms lie, and you must live.”

She stares up at him blankly, and obeys. She takes one step. Then another.

Another.

Another.

And on and on.

She keeps going.

///

Time passes. She’s not sure how much. But her apparition father no longer walks a distance away from her. Instead, he practically holds her up as they keep going, his repeated promises than she can do this all she can really hear.

“I wish…” Kara manages weakly. “I wish you were real.”

Her ghost father chuckles, clearly hearing what she can’t say. (I wish I were with you. I wish I wasn’t alone. I wish, I wish.) “Ah, but I am real. I’m the best parts of you, daughter,” he says. “Resilience, strength, commitment…hope.” He says the last word with some force, as if needing her to understand. “You are good. You are kind. And you try, more than anything you try.”

“The Phantoms lie,” she reminds him quietly. He laughs again.

“Yes, but I am no Phantom.”

And they keep walking.

///

“I have hurt so many,” she says, half carried by the fake Zor El. “I cause nothing but damage and pain. Why would they even want me back? Lena especially?”

“I don’t believe love is as simple as you make it seem, Kara,” the fake Zor El says. Another step. And another. And on and on.

“Love? She hates me. I ruined her life. I lied. I betrayed her.”

“Sometimes we stumble,” the fake Zor El said gently. “Sometimes we fail. But as long as we learn, as long as we get up and try to do better, there is always hope.”

A step. And another. And on and on.

“I do, you know. Love her,” she adds when her fake father seems confused.

He smiles brightly at her, and it’s nice. Even though he’s not real. Even though she’s only partially sure she’s not dead and this isn’t all in her head, even though he’s at best a hallucination and at worst a trick of the Phantoms, it’s nice. Because she’d never thought she’d have the opportunity to tell her father about the woman she has fallen for—the scientist like him, the innovator like him. The woman who made her feel more at home, more like herself, than anyone else.

“Hold onto that love, Kara,” he says, helping her take another step. “If there’s one thing the Phantoms cannot destroy, it is your love.”

She nods, though she doesn’t quite understand. And they keep going.

///

She knows she’s reaching her limit physically. There’s only so much even she can endure. Between the cold, the bone deep weariness, the ache settling in her chest, and the energy sapped from her very being, she’s running on no more than fumes.

She tells herself it’s just one more step. Just one more.

Just.

One.

…more.

“Father, are you—” She stops.

She’s completely alone. The ghost is gone.

Kara trembles, choking not only on the dusty, frozen air, but on her despair. All she wants, all she wants is to stop.

To fall to the gravelly dirt.

To curl up.

To give up…

“Kara!”

(She falls to her knees. The Phantoms lie, she thinks. But what a mercy, what a kindness, she’s going to die with her name on Lena’s lips.)

“Kara! Brainy, we found her. Alex, you’d best come quick.”

(The words make no sense. The Phantoms lie. They lie. They lie, lie, lie.

She looks up, and an angel stands before her. Lena, with wide, desperate eyes. Lena, with hair in a messy ponytail. Lena, in dusty, dirty clothes.

Oh, she’s a sight. She’s an angel. She’s everything.)

“Kara? Kara, we’re here. We’re going to take you home.”

(The Phantoms…have never lied like this.)

“Lena?” Kara manages shakily, unsure if she’s dreaming, hallucinating, dead even. “Are you real?”

Lena doesn’t answer, instead she rushes forward, falls to her knees too, and pulls Kara into a hug. She envelopes Kara in her scent—sweet and flowery—envelopes Kara in her warmth. Her heartbeat is strong against Kara’s chest.

She’s so alive. So present. So very real.

“Lena, my father, he…” But she doesn’t finish what she wants to say. After days, months, weeks, years (she doesn’t know, she can’t tell) of being lost in the Phantom Zone, her body finally caves under the weight of everything she’s gone through.

And she lets go. Falls into Lena. Lets herself be supported. Her eyes close, she breathes in Lena’s scent, and she thinks, even if this is just a lie, just a dream, it’s a good one.

And she knows no more.

///

When she wakes, her first thought is that she’s still dreaming. That the Phantoms lie, and that their lies are growing more and more impressive.

She’s laying underneath a sun lamp, nestled comfortably in her own bedroom, wearing soft pajamas and enveloped in her favorite blankets. There’s gentle music playing from somewhere in the living room, but otherwise that’s all she hears.

(The silence is eerie, disconcerting. She’s unused to such quiet, always assaulted by thousands upon thousands of sounds each and every moment. What a blessing, she thinks wryly, that the Phantoms would lie to her this way—would give her this much peace after so much pain.

And she wonders if this is what dying feels like.)

“Kara,” says her angel suddenly, and Kara turns her head, noticing for the first time that there’s a chair set up next to her bed, that Lena is there, watching her. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

“Am I dead?” Kara asks. Lena’s eyes widen but she shakes her head. “Are you…are you real? Is any of this real?”

Lena slowly reaches out, giving Kara every chance to say no, to pull away, and she takes Kara’s hand into her own, threading their fingers together.

(She’s warm. Soft. And her touch stirs something inside Kara.

It’s familiar. Hers. Something lost in the Phantom Zone.

Or at least, something she thought she had lost.)

“I’m real, Kara,” Lena says. “We all are. And we’re here for you okay?”

“You found me?” Kara asks, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “You came for me?”

“Always,” Lena swears.

(The Phantoms lied.

But love, love she thinks always tells the truth.)

[beauty-and-passion]

Love Olympus: the "charming" lessons we learned from it

Hi! Are you searching for a good story, filled with creativity, care, coherence and beautiful art style? Then please, turn left and you will find something worth your time.

Here we will talk about that beautiful, terrible disaster that is Lore Olympus. Ah, it's always so nice to read a new retelling of Greek mythology and find out it's basically the same 200 stereotypes slapped together into something that's way older and staler than the original. What did my ancestor ever do to the world, to be treated like that.

But I've already talked about what a waste of potential Lore Olympus is, how pathetic the writing is and how bad the protagonists are. I've spent more than enough words commenting on why this series could've been great and came out like this.

Now there's only one thing left: to make fun of it. To draw our conclusions on the whole thing and the finale and find out what "wonderful" messages we got from it.

Don't worry: the messages are absolutely wonderful and I'm not sarcastic, not at aaaaall.

_______________________________

Planning in advance is for the weak

Don't you know how to fill your third season, after the "battle" that closed season 2? No problem! People will read you anyway, so instead of planning and moving the plot forward, waste everyone's time writing chapter after chapter of pure nothingness: your characters can have discussions so stupid, that people will question if they have been written by using ChatGPT. That will surely prove what a great writer you are!

And don't worry too much about the plot: just wait until inspiration magically falls from the sky. That's how it works, isn't it? Stories are just random events slapped together, with no planning, care or coherence whatsoever. When we write a story, we don't want to treat our readers like intelligent human beings, oh no: people are idiots, so we can just throw them the first shit that pops out of our minds and everything will be fine.

_______________________________

Coherence is for the weak

After waiting for inspiration (that somehow hasn't fallen from the sky yet, jeez I wonder why), you still don't know what to do with your plot? Easy, use one of the villains! Like the rapist guy! Now he's running for President.

Yes, we know there is a monarchy in this land, because there is a king, but it doesn't matter. The rapist is trying to be President now. President of what, you ask? It doesn't matter! Presidents exist, right? So he's trying to be one, that's all you need to know.

Will he become President? He's running from it, that's all! You don't need to know what happens after that! As we all know, stories do not have closed plot points, they're just random shit thrown around. So why care about solving a problem you just raised? Just forget it, it's not important.

Is the story supposed to take place in Olympus or, at least, in Greece? Well, what's the problem? As we all know, Europe and the US are basically the same thing, so how different can Greece and America be?

I mean: one is a huge country with many climate zones and wide areas, the other is a small, hot country mostly made of mountains and islands. One has a millennia-years-old culture that influenced the entirety of the West, the other is literally called the New World, to emphasize how young it is. Same place.

So, since they're so similar they're basically identical, just fill your Greece with American stuff and give your characters English names. Greece is notoriously full of English names. It's not like there are millions of people with similar names because parents give their own parents' names to their offspring and sometimes all siblings give their parents' names to all their children and the result is that your cousins all have the same goddamn name and you all came up with nicknames to distinguish between them.

No, that's not based on personal experience, what makes you think that.

_______________________________

The protagonist is better than anyone else

Is Zeus telling you he wants to give his child to some nymphs, because he knows won't be a good father? Well, clearly the most normal thing to do is steal his baby. No, not because you're a psychopath, but because you clearly know how to handle the baby better than some nymphs. Remember: you are the protagonist, hence you are better at everything anyone can do, especially a stupid nymph. You will care for the baby more and better than anyone else, no doubt.

Is the child you stole running around without supervision? But you took care of him! You even hired a babysitter! No, of course you didn't spend time with him, you were busy! What? It could've been better to leave the child with the nymphs as Zeus wanted, because at least they would've spent their time with the child and not hired someone else to do it? Listen, we don't work with logic here and you are the protagonist, so of course all of your decisions are perfect and should never be questioned.

Speaking of kids: is your mother telling you she had a son who died? Time for some favoritism! Your husband is the god of the dead, so death isn't a problem anymore. What? Death is supposed to be impossible to overcome? But you're the protagonist, so the mere mortals' rules do not apply to you. Death is nothing, compared to your perfection.

Oh no, you accidentally caused winter! And a genocide! But remember: you're the protagonist, so of course you're always perfect. And you didn't do it on purpose, so you're automatically innocent and people attacking you are just mean and jealous.

See? You're so perfect, you found a way to solve the problem! How? Easy, by believing in yourself ✨✨✨ And by talking (badly) about how life and death are linked. Yes, we know it's the equivalent of saying that 2+2=4, but we don't want to treat our readers like intelligent people, here. All they have to do is just revel in your perfection.

_______________________________

More villains! Because Yes!

Do you still have no idea what to do with your plot, after too many useless chapters? Easy, use the cartoonish supervillain! He will do the trick! And throw another naked woman to defeat him: it worked once, it'll work again.

Is your cartoonish supervillain actually useless? No problem, make another villain even more useless. And make him appear out of thin air for two chapters. And since readers are stupid, just tell them that he was the evil mastermind behind everything. They'll eat it up.

Oh, and President Loser is in cahoots with SuperMegaVillain now. Why? Because Yes, of course.

You don't know how to defeat SuperMegaVillain? 🧑‍🤝‍🧑Avengers Assemble🧑‍🤝‍🧑and you're done. It worked for Marvel, it'll work for your story too. I know it's settled in Greece and fertility goddesses do not have resurrection powers or whatever the fuck they're doing, but shhhhh.

_______________________________

Random justice is good

With all those villains to defeat, you forgot your story is supposed to be a retelling of the myth of Hades and Persephone? No problem, just stick a "Gaia Ex-Machina" here and let her solve the story with a power and authority she doesn't have. No one will notice the difference.

Speaking of justice: is the rapist gonna get the punishment he deserves? Sure, get this: he will fall in love with you and turn himself in. And he will get community service as punishment.

Are you saying that this isn't a real punishment? But of course it is! He turned himself in! The victim isn't allowed to expose him, nor to see him actually getting punished. All the victim can do is walk away. It's not that lack of control is a big deal for a rape victim, right? And seeing the rapist finally get punished won't give them the catharsis they need, right? And it definitely won't free them of the huge weight they carry on, because of the awful, horrible act they suffered from, right?

Of course not, so ah ah ah, the rapist gets to build places, very funny. And aside from that stupid punishment, of course he's free to walk around and, who knows?, maybe rape someone else. Wow, justice truly works well in this place! I would feel so safe to go around there!

_______________________________

Queer people are stupid too (and ghosts, sometimes)

All those villains could've been great in a story centered around Zeus? We don't work with Zeus here: we hate men, all men except for the capitalist hubby of our dreams. So Zeus is a useless piece of shit and he will keep being a useless piece of shit until the end. Also, he's not a real king anymore, because apparently democracy popped out of nowhere and everyone just rolls with it. I wonder why it too centuries to accept it all over the world...

And Hera is a lesbian now. Why? I already told you we don't work with logic here. She's a lesbian because queer people are idiots too, so thrown them a queer character and they will like it, doesn't matter if it makes zero sense.

Uh? Are you saying that asexual and aromantic people exist too? No, of course not: they're just waiting for the hot lesbian of their dreams or for the hubby that will turn them into wives and mothers.

Hence why the organization centered around celibacy closed: it was just a cover for lesbians after all! And we all know that women can only be lesbians or mothers. A woman doesn't want or feel any romantic attraction? She doesn't exist, then.

Wow people, I don't exist! I'm a ghost!

_______________________________

Feminism means gender stereotypes

As Wikipedia says, feminism is:

"... a range of socio-political movements and ideologies that aim to define and establish the political, economic, personal, and social equality of the sexes."

But Wikipedia is stupid, while we won a shit ton of prizes for some reason, so we're the good authors here. And we decided that feminism means "women good, men bad". This definitely isn't a point of view based on a warping of the original concept of feminism, that focused on helping women because, since societies are patriarchal, men already have a powerful position. Hence why, feminism fought (and fights) to give women a powerful position too: to make both genders on the same plane.

But nope, this is all stupid and wrong and doing research is underrated - after all, we wrote a story entirely based on the first shit that popped into our mind, so why do research about this? Let's focus on the superficial vision of feminism and fight for women's equality, by making them lesbians or mothers.

Because sure, feminism is good, but capitalism is better. And since capitalism wants you to have kids, go home to your rich hubby and have a ton of kids you definitely won't neglect, like the child you stole or the supposed godson you never cared about and only after he's an adult "sometimes" you have a conversation with. That's how a perfect, traditional family works, after all. And we know this didn't lead to any generational trauma at aaaaall.

_______________________________

In conclusion

I don't know if you noticed the teeny tiny veil of sarcasm in my words. I know, it was so subtle, almost invisible. I made it oh-so-hard to find it, please let me know how hard it was.

But you know what? This story is over and I needed to let some sarcasm out. I am finally free to read something else, possibly (hopefully!) better.

And the next time I will approach another retelling... who am I kidding, I know I will fall for it like an idiot because that's what I do every time. They get me with something I love and once I find out it's shitty, I keep reading because I want to see how bad it is.

In this, Lore Olympus didn't disappoint: I expected something bad, I got something bad. And, sometimes, it was so bad, to make me laugh, so extra points for the stupidity: I appreciate something that makes me laugh, way more than something that makes me angry.

And, as I said in my previous posts, even something bad is useful, because it teaches you how NOT to do something.

So thank you, Lore Olympus, for being a terrible teacher. And thank you for making me appreciate the original myths even more. There's a reason why they still stand after millennials and can still capture the popular imagination, while this series will probably be forgotten in a couple years.

To you all, my readers: if you managed to reach the end of LO like me, congrats for surviving it, I hope you learned something useful about how to make better art.

But if you never approached Lore Olympus, don't do it: it's not worth the time you will lose.

Unless you want to see with your own eyes how does it look a story with zero planning and random ideas thrown everywhere. In that case, please, be my guest: read it and learn how not to write. You will learn a lot from this.

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(How about a coffee? ☕)

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[paingoes]

Rubies

Haircare

(Content: accidental whump, past abuse, PTSD, dehumanization, conditioning, drowning mention, dissociation, crying)

It had happened so quickly. Delta leaned against the kitchen counter, comfortable enough now to stand but not quite enough to be using furniture. It wasn’t so odd then, though. Apollo was standing on the other side, trying to explain the difference between originalism and textualism through an analogue about beekeeping. Unsuccessfully. Still, Delta listened with rapt attention. He did not care particularly for the subject matter, but appreciated the novelty of being talked to like a person. Kitty passed behind him. She tugged at his hair abruptly, forcing his head to the side.

“I’m sorry,” he winced. The apology had come just as reflexively as the flinch. He didn’t even know what he had done wrong, but he had suspicions, the same ones that had been eating at him this entire time. He'd gotten overfamiliar, probably. He'd been too comfortable. He'd been acting too much like he was their equal. It always happened like this - some brief lapse in his judgement, then immediate correction to ensure it would never happen again. It hurt worse coming from her, though. She'd not hurt him at all before and he had tried so hard not to give her reason to. Now he had. He was really, really sorry.

“Yeouch,” Kitty hissed as she tried to untangle her claw. Her eyes widened as she saw the still, scared look on Delta’s face, “Oh, no, no, no, babe. It was an accident. Accident.”

Apollo reached over to unhook them. Oh. Accident. Delta brought his head back up, touching it gingerly where the hair had been pulled. Kitty rubbed at her nail; it had split at the top. It was his fault. His hair had only gotten so knotty because he hadn’t been taking care of it. He just didn’t have the energy to do it when he wasn’t being forced to. Especially if he only had one hand to work with.

Kitty seemed to have the same thought, because she offered to brush his hair out that night. He sat down cross-legged on the floor. She sat behind him, gently working the brush through his ends. It went all the way down his back and then some. 

“You have such nice hair, Delta,” Kitty said, running her fingers through it. Some of the luster had faded from days without wash, but it was still soft.

“Thank you, miss,” he said quietly.

“What?” She had heard the discontentment in his voice. He wondered when he’d started slipping so much. He’d always believed he’d been good about hiding his feelings. It occurred to him that maybe everyone was just ignoring them.

“…I don’t really like it,” he admitted. 

“Why not?” She asked. He could sometimes hear the :? in her voice.

Because it gets caught on everything. Because it takes forever to clean it. Because it’s too easy to grab. 

“...Too long,” he mumbled.

“Why don’t you cut it?” Kitty tapped her claw against the back of the brush.

“Wasn’t allowed to.” He rubbed his neck. Paris had been weirdly particular about it — some carryover from his own aesthetic neurosis. Even before then, none of Delta’s handlers had ever allowed him to modify his appearance in any way. He’d never though about it much until it had become such a chore to take care of. 

“Oh.” She frowned. “Do you want to cut it now?”

Delta blinked. He hadn’t realized that was an option. It made sense, though. He guessed he didn’t have any reason to keep it long anymore. If they didn’t mind.

“Would that be okay?” He asked cautiously, trying to distinguish an offer from a trap. That was another thing he’d been good at before. He felt less confident in it now. It felt like he was returning too many false positives.

“Yeah, it’s your hair. I can do it for you, if you want.”

“Um. Yes, please.” He still kept his tone polite, just in case she changed her mind.

She led him into the bathroom. He had to suppress the urge to fight it. Memories of his head being forced underwater. Paris higher than he had ever seen him. His certainty about his own death, proven wrong but just barely. He shivered. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub where Kitty indicated. His nerves calmed slightly. No chains. No water. He still clutched at his own arms anxiously, needing something to hold onto. Kitty ran her hand over his scalp softly, smoothing out his hair. He practically melted into the touch.

“How short are you thinking?” She asked, repositioning herself with a pair of scissors. He tapped a finger by the nape of his neck, a little lower than his ears.

“You’re sure?” She checked in again.

“Yes, miss.” 

“Kk.” She clicked the scissors together. 

His head felt so much lighter, so immediately. He hadn’t realized how much dead weight the hair had been. He was sure it was part of why his migraines had gotten so bad. He gave a little sigh of relief, which he was immediately embarrassed by. Thankfully, Kitty didn’t acknowledge it.  She kept busy with the scissors, cutting layers into his hair to give it texture. She kept running her hands through it, trying to see if it was even. It felt so nice. He let himself sit like that for a while, eyes closed, just enjoying the touch.

“All done!” Kitty grinned. He felt a little sad when her hands left him. She stood him up, letting him view the cut in the bathroom mirror. 

He’d been avoiding his reflection for a long time. It always made him dissociative, much too uncertain of what it was he was seeing inside. The depersonalization had been trained into him. 

His hair was cut short. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes and a faint mark on his nose where the bone had been broken. His freckles glowing dimly just beneath the surface. Some of the color was returning to his face. His hair was cut short. It looked nice. It felt a lot better.

He covered his face with his hands, unable to control the soft sob that escaped him. There weren’t tears, not really. Those still did not come easy. But in all other ways, he was crying.

“Oh no,” Kitty gasped. “You don’t like it? I’m so sorry. It’ll grow back. I can try and fix it.”

Unable to stop herself, she put one hand against his shoulder, rubbing small circles with her thumb. He shook his head.

“I like it,” he said softly. His voice was muffled through his hands. She rubbed his back gently. He sat down on the bathroom tiles, inconsolable.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

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@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[a-s-levynn]

About those new masks..

So i saw this take a few times already and i have some thoughts. Obviously it's paraphrasing but you'll see these a lot similar to this if you scroll in ST spaces since yesterday:

"These new masks have too much personality, they said the people behind the music is uniportant but they now have this new personalized look instead of the uniform sleek minimalist one and it is the direct opposite of what they are saying. These new looks do not fit Sleep Token"

Let me preface this: I'm not going to explore specific reasons why people might hate on the masks because... No i refuse to go there, but i will talk about the issues i have around this a bit.

No.

If you are hating on the new masks so much so as to cry about that "this is not what they supposed to be about" you are missing your own point. You are in fact shooting the opposite direction. You are no longer in it for "just the music" but you are very much caught upon the "everything else beside the music." You got distracted. You putting the blame on them instead on yourself for loosing your own point.

There is no moral highground in this whole ordeal. Please respect yourself enought to try not to look utterly stupid if you frothing about something you visibly misunderstood. Do not hide behind excuses. Do not put this on the artists. Own up to the fact that you simple don't like it.

Admit that it's your opinion purely; because ultimately the artist creating their own art will understand creative choices behind their creations more than you ever will. No matter how far you try to bend backwards.

The masks fit Sleep Token because it is Sleep Token who decided to have them. End of story. You can hate it all you want but it is still part of the shabang now. And don't try to mask your distaste over visuals with shouting about the artist not understanding their own ideology.

If you are so hung up on how they look like, more than what the music still is, than stop and think for a second please.. You have it backwards. If you really truly only care about the music, what it is about, what it gives you, than you are not going to give a shit what they are wearing on stage.

Maybe in a passing few sentences but otherwise you are not going to be worked up about it to the point you sent hatecomments to the artist who made them.. It is shameful.

Besides i hate to break it to people but they already had their personalities with their outfits just not this strongly. III had the random whacky shit. IV had the hint's of this comfy leisurly punk-ish techwear whatever going on besides the fancy stuff the past a months since the summer. II had a slightly sleeker but maybe sort of tech-ish look which is now reflected (in my opinion) much more strongly with this new look (which sorta reminds me of a stylized oni or something tbh and that is extremely in line with their older far-east inspired thematics visually, just saying).

They are not handing you the "we are unimportant" part anymore. They are not spoonfeeding it to you. Not in the way they had before at least. They presume you are mature and smart enough at this point to get it. To get to the conclusion that it is unimportant what they look like. And allow them to still have fun with it.

Or just they are being cheeky and went for something that would shake up the people. I don't know, i don't know them or anyone close to them. I don't have answers. But they are trying something new an it is perfectly fine.

Also which would have come off so much differently if Vessel is 100% btw. Be honest, if they would have been able to perform to their fullest abilities, far less people would be so loud over this.. This was just an unfortunate turn of events and when shit hits the fan it usually never just one dose. And my heart breaks for the boys for all this.

Besides, people were so loud about hating that "they looked the same" and "so hard to distinguish" and "easy to replace because of this" ... now they have personalized masks and looks and the same people cry about the exact opposite they did before..

Also it just occured to me that this is basically the same as the lightshow upgrade. It gives you something to look at at the rituals. The new looks are visually interesting, and with the lighting setup they have now they are gonna look like some seriously fun nightmare creatures btw. I love that already.

So all in all i don't know, i don't really have a point here i guess, but the boys are in such a no win situation right now and i hate the fact that people are shitting on them just because they don't fit their idea of "an anonymous collective" anymore. Which is reddiculous and sad because nothign has changed.

It never was about being a blank page. It was about being human. It flies over so many peoples head but the anonymity part isn't about not being a person under there. It is being about that person not having a name. It doesn't matter if the person has a personality or not. What matter there is that no name.

There is no definitiveness. It gives an open invitation for anyone to step into that person but first you need to recognise that there is a person there. And there is no doing that if there are no traces of personality. Or humanity if you will because personalities makes us humans. Don't make me hold a philosophy lecture here on what it means being human please.

It does not matter who that individual it is by tagging a name on them. But it is extremely important that there is a person there. Otherwise there is no connection point. If there is no person there is nothing to understand. But it does not matter how that person looks like. It does not matter what the person wears. Or what that person is called. What matters is that it is a human being. And as such you can understand it. Our at least you should be able to.

Regardless of the design of a mask.

[the-disemvoweler]

coward.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry.

Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary.

Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman.

What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees.

We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out.

Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! -

I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing.

You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer?

No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman?

Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die!

You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check.

Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic.

That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him?

I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans.

I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure!

There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say?

I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess.

"Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church.

The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it?

You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me?

Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? -

Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s!

One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee?

How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything?

All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane!

You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here?

For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier?

I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no!

A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours.

Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead.

Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey?

That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt.

No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"?

Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee?

Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit.

This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding.

All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson?

Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you.

No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005.

Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left.

I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that?

Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them!

Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends?

Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection!

I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain?

Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over?

Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence?

Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps,?

Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal.

Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody?

Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me?

This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry?

Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got.

Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. -

The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job.

Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke?

No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres.

They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep!

Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!

You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance.

We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number!

:3

Absolutely not

[as-if-and-only-if]

as of this writing, 538 is predicting by a small margin that Trump will win.

it’s almost a coin toss—53 to 47—and 538 is ultimately just one model. but the trend in Trump’s favor from a month or so ago is clear, and seems to be continuing.

the deadline for registering to vote in PA is today (Oct. 21).

the margins are thin enough that a handful of people in PA (where I am) and other swing states really could change a Trump win into a Trump loss.

a Trump loss—a Harris win—means fewer people dying. it means the climate is less fucked up. it means more people can access reproductive care. it means the rich pay more taxes. it means the genocide in Gaza isn’t made even worse. it means fewer trans people die. it means fewer illegal immigrants are rounded up and deported. for everyone (besides billionaires), a Trump presidency is worse relative to Harris.

voting Harris doesn’t solve everything. it doesn’t even solve these things—it only makes a difference to them. but that difference is measured in lives. the lives of real, breathing people.

these lives will always be worth more than sending a message, or punishing Harris, or feeling good about not voting.

the difference in what actually happens to people will always matter more.

~~~~~

I often see a lot of what you might call “moral anxiety” here: attaching extra symbolism to a vote, usually conflating it with “support”.

a vote for Harris is not a signifier of absolute support for Harris or her actions. it is not a sign of allegiance or alignment. it is not a message. any symbolism, any attached meaning, is entirely artificial. such an interpretation is not an actual part of what it means to vote. you are only responsible for the difference your vote could actually contribute to.

and as such, a vote is not the be-all, end-all. it’s just something to keep things from getting worse in one particular extremely significant way.

a vote is first and foremost a practical choice with nonsymbolic consequences—a choice between the two outcomes we’re limited to. and it is only that.

not voting, on the other hand, is only disengagement: only the willingness to allow more suffering, more death, and for a grand prize of nothing at all.

no real, practical consequence can come from not voting that is possibly worth the extra death of even one person.

if a vote for Harris shows anything about you or how clean your hands are, it shows you are willing to confront the reality of our circumstances and what can (and can’t) be achieved by a vote; that you’ve acknowledged the brutal fact that one of only two outcomes will come to pass; that you can act ethically and practically even in suboptimal conditions; and that you’re capable of the necessary ethical calculus of distinguishing bad from worse.

~~~~~

so. we are on the brink of another Trump presidency.

ultimately, when deciding whether to vote, we can stand by to let strictly more people suffer and die under Trump—or we can intervene in the capacity we’re able to.

there are lives to be saved in the difference.

do not give up on them.

vote Harris.

[warringwarrioridiot]

The entire bee movie in one post no grammar issues, cuts, etc.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.

Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.

The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black.

Ooh, black and yellow!

Let's shake it up a little.

Barry! Breakfast is ready!

Coming!

Hang on a second.

Hello?

Barry?

Adam?

Can you believe this is happening?

I can't.

I'll pick you up.

Looking sharp.

Use the stairs, Your father paid good money for those.

Sorry. I'm excited.

Here's the graduate.

We're very proud of you, son.

A perfect report card, all B's.

Very proud.

Ma! I got a thing going here.

You got lint on your fuzz.

Ow! That's me!

Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000.

Bye!

Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house!

Hey, Adam.

Hey, Barry.

Is that fuzz gel?

A little. Special day, graduation.

Never thought I'd make it.

Three days grade school, three days high school.

Those were awkward.

Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around The Hive.

You did come back different.

Hi, Barry. Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.

Hear about Frankie?

Yeah.

You going to the funeral?

No, I'm not going.

Everybody knows, sting someone, you die.

Don't waste it on a squirrel.

Such a hothead.

I guess he could have just gotten out of the way.

I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day.

That's why we don't need vacations.

Boy, quite a bit of pomp under the circumstances.

Well, Adam, today we are men.

We are!

Bee-men.

Amen!

Hallelujah!

Students, faculty, distinguished bees,

please welcome Dean Buzzwell.

Welcome, New Hive City graduating class of 9:15.

That concludes our ceremonies And begins your career at Honex Industries!

Will we pick our job today?

I heard it's just orientation.

Heads up! Here we go.

Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times.

Wonder what it'll be like?

A little scary.

Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group.

This is it!

Wow.

Wow.

We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life.

Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to The Hive.

Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey!

That girl was hot.

She's my cousin!

She is?

Yes, we're all cousins.

Right. You're right.

At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence.

These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology.

What do you think he makes?

Not enough.

Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman.

What does that do?

Catches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it.

Saves us millions.

Can anyone work on the Krelman?

Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones.

But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot.

But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life.

The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that.

What's the difference?

You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years.

So you'll just work us to death?

We'll sure try.

Wow! That blew my mind!

"What's the difference?"

How can you say that?

One job forever?

That's an insane choice to have to make.

I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life.

But, Adam, how could they never have told us that?

Why would you question anything? We're bees.

We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth.

You ever think maybe things work a little too well here?

Like what? Give me one example.

I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about.

Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach.

Wait a second. Check it out.

Hey, those are Pollen Jocks!

Wow.

I've never seen them this close.

They know what it's like outside The Hive.

Yeah, but some don't come back.

Hey, Jocks!

Hi, Jocks!

You guys did great!

You're monsters!

You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!

I wonder where they were.

I don't know.

Their day's not planned.

Outside The Hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what.

You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that.

Right.

Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime.

It's just a status symbol.

Bees make too much of it.

Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it.

Those ladies?

Aren't they our cousins too?

Distant. Distant.

Look at these two.

Couple of Hive Harrys.

Let's have fun with them.

It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock.

Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom!

He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me!

Oh, my!

I never thought I'd knock him out.

What were you doing during this?

Trying to alert the authorities.

I can autograph that.

A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades?

Yeah. Gusty.

We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow.

Six miles, huh?

Barry!

A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it.

Maybe I am.

You are not!

We're going 0900 at J-Gate.

What do you think, buzzy-boy?

Are you bee enough?

I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means.

Hey, Honex!

Dad, you surprised me.

You decide what you're interested in?

Well, there's a lot of choices.

But you only get one.

Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day?

Son, let me tell you about stirring.

You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around.

You get yourself into a rhythm.

It's a beautiful thing.

You know, Dad, the more I think about it,

maybe the honey field just isn't right for me.

You were thinking of what, making balloon animals?

That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger.

Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey!

Barry, you are so funny sometimes.

I'm not trying to be funny.

You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer!

You're gonna be a stirrer?

No one's listening to me!

Wait till you see the sticks I have.

I could say anything right now.

I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!

Let's open some honey and celebrate!

Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"!

I'm so proud.

We're starting work today!

Today's the day.

Come on! All the good jobs will be gone.

Yeah, right.

Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal...

Is it still available?

Hang on. Two left!

One of them's yours! Congratulations!

Step to the side.

What'd you get?

Picking crud out. Stellar!

Wow!

Couple of newbies?

Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!

Make your choice.

You want to go first?

No, you go.

Oh, my. What's available?

Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think.

Any chance of getting the Krelman?

Sure, you're on.

I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.

Wax monkey's always open.

The Krelman opened up again.

What happened?

A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one.

Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.

Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life!

Oh, this is so hard!

Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler.

Barry, what do you think I should... Barry?

Barry!

All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine...

What happened to you?

Where are you?

I'm going out.

Out? Out where?

Out there.

Oh, no!

I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life.

You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?

Another call coming in.

If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today.

Hey, guys.

Look at that.

Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?

Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.

It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.

Really? Feeling lucky, are you?

Sign here, here. Just initial that.

Thank you.

OK.

You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain.

So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats.

Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us.

Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada!

That's awful.

And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans!

All right, launch positions!

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!

Black and yellow!

Hello!

You ready for this, hot shot?

Yeah. Yeah, bring it on.

Wind, check.

Antennae, check.

Nectar pack, check.

Wings, check.

Stinger, check.

Scared out of my shorts, check.

OK, ladies,

let's move it out!

Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers!

All of you, drain those flowers!

Wow! I'm out!

I can't believe I'm out!

So blue.

I feel so fast and free!

Box kite!

Wow!

Flowers!

This is Blue Leader, We have roses visual.

Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.

Roses!

30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around.

Stand to the side, kid.

It's got a bit of a kick.

That is one nectar collector!

Ever see pollination up close?

No, sir.

I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one.

See that? It's a little bit of magic.

That's amazing. Why do we do that?

That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us.

Cool.

I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow, Could be daisies, Don't we need those?

Copy that visual.

Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move.

Say again? You're reporting a moving flower?

Affirmative.

That was on the line!

This is the coolest. What is it?

I don't know, but I'm loving this color.

It smells good.

Not like a flower, but I like it.

Yeah, fuzzy.

Chemical-y.

Careful, guys. It's a little grabby.

My sweet lord of bees!

Candy-brain, get off there!

Problem!

Guys!

This could be bad.

Affirmative.

Very close.

Gonna hurt.

Mama's little boy.

You are way out of position, rookie!

Coming in at you like a missile!

Help me!

I don't think these are flowers.

Should we tell him?

I think he knows.

What is this?!

Match point!

You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it!

Yowser!

Gross.

There's a bee in the car!

Do something!

I'm driving!

Hi, bee.

He's back here!

He's going to sting me!

Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze!

He blinked!

Spray him, Granny!

What are you doing?!

Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable.

I gotta get home.

Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain.

Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down!

Ken, could you close the window please?

Ken, could you close the window please?

Check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out.

Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this.

What was that?

Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes!

That is diabolical.

It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.

What's number one? Star Wars?

Nah, I don't go for that... kind of stuff.

No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds.

When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say.

There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out.

I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it.

I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me.

Wait! Stop! Bee!

Stand back. These are winter boots.

Wait!

Don't kill him!

You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me!

Why does his life have less value than yours?

Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement?

I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling.

My brochure!

There you go, little guy.

I'm not scared of him.It's an allergic thing.

Put that on your resume brochure.

My whole face could puff up.

Make it one of your special skills.

Knocking someone out is also a special skill.

Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks.

Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night?

Sure, Ken. You know, whatever.

You could put carob chips on there.

Bye.

Supposed to be less calories.

Bye.

I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something.

All right, here it goes.

Nah.

What would I say?

I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to.

Oh, I can't do it. Come on!

No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't.

How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good.

Here she comes! Speak, you fool!

Hi!

I'm sorry. You're talking.

Yes, I know.

You're talking!

I'm so sorry.

No, it's OK. It's fine.

I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed.

Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting.

This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee!

I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me.

And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised.

That was a little weird. I'm talking with a bee.

Yeah.

I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me!

I just want to say I'm grateful.

I'll leave now.

Wait! How did you learn to do that?

What?

The talking thing.

Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up.

That's very funny.

Yeah.

Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with.

Anyway... Can I... get you something?

Like what?

I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Coffee?

I don't want to put you out.

It's no trouble. It takes two minutes.

It's just coffee.

I hate to impose.

Don't be ridiculous!

Actually, I would love a cup.

Hey, you want rum cake?

I shouldn't.

Have some.

No, I can't.

Come on!

I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms.

Where?

These stripes don't help.

You look great!

I don't know if you know anything about fashion.

Are you all right?

No.

He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison.

He finally gets there.

He runs up the steps into the church.

The wedding is on.

And he says, "Watermelon?

I thought you said Guatemalan.

Why would I marry a watermelon?"

Is that a bee joke?

That's the kind of stuff we do.

Yeah, different.

So, what are you gonna do, Barry?

About work? I don't know.

I want to do my part for The Hive, but I can't do it the way they want.

I know how you feel.

You do?

Sure.

My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.

Really?

My only interest is flowers.

Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan.

Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it?

You're in Sheep Meadow!

Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond!

No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once.

Why do girls put rings on their toes?

Why not?

It's like putting a hat on your knee.

Maybe I'll try that.

You all right, ma'am?

Oh, yeah. Fine.

Just having two cups of coffee!

Anyway, this has been great.

Thanks for the coffee.

Yeah, it's no trouble.

Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life.

Are you...?

Can I take a piece of this with me?

Sure! Here, have a crumb.

Thanks!

Yeah.

All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not.

OK, Barry.

And thank you so much again... for before.

Oh, that? That was nothing.

Well, not nothing, but... Anyway...

This can't possibly work.

He's all set to go.

We may as well try it.

OK, Dave, pull the chute.

Sounds amazing.

It was amazing!

It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life.

Humans! I can't believe you were with humans!

Giant, scary humans!

What were they like?

Huge and crazy. They talk crazy.

They eat crazy giant things.

They drive crazy.

Do they try and kill you, like on TV?

Some of them. But some of them don't.

How'd you get back?

Poodle.

You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see.

You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal.

Well...

Well?

Well, I met someone.

You did? Was she Bee-ish?

A wasp?! Your parents will kill you!

No, no, no, not a wasp.

Spider?

I'm not attracted to spiders.

I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face.

So who is she?

She's... human.

No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law.

Her name's Vanessa.

Oh, boy.

She's so nice. And she's a florist!

Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!

We're not dating.

You're flying outside The Hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite!

She saved my life! And she understands me.

This is over!

Eat this.

This is not over! What was that?

They call it a crumb.

It was so stingin' stripey!

And that's not what they eat.

That's what falls off what they eat!

You know what a Cinnabon is?

No.

It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up...

Sit down!

...really hot!

Listen to me!

We are not them! We're us.

There's us and there's them!

Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning?

There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me!

You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee!

Thinking bee.

Thinking bee.

Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

There he is. He's in the pool.

You know what your problem is, Barry?

I gotta start thinking bee?

How much longer will this go on?

It's been three days! Why aren't you working?

I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about.

What life? You have no life!

You have no job. You're barely a bee!

Would it kill you to make a little honey?

Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you.

Martin, would you talk to him?

Barry, I'm talking to you!

You coming?

Got everything?

All set!

Go ahead. I'll catch up.

Don't be too long.

Watch this!

Vanessa!

We're still here.

I told you not to yell at him.

He doesn't respond to yelling!

Then why yell at me?

Because you don't listen!

I'm not listening to this.

Sorry, I've gotta go.

Where are you going?

I'm meeting a friend.

A girl? Is this why you can't decide?

Bye.

I just hope she's Bee-ish.

They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena?

To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream!

Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering.

A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events?

No. All right, I've got one.

How come you don't fly everywhere?

It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster.

Yeah, OK, I see, I see.

All right, your turn.

TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane!

You don't have that?

We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease.

Oh, my.

Dumb bees!

You must want to sting all those jerks.

We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us.

So you have to watch your temper.

Very carefully.

You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust.

Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?

Yeah.

What is wrong with you?!

It's a bug.

He's not bothering anybody.

Get out of here, you creep!

What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?

Yeah, it was. How did you know?

It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.

You've really got that down to a science.

I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue.

I'll bet.

What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this?

How did this get here? cute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select?

Is he that actor?

I never heard of him.

Why is this here?

For people. We eat it.

You don't have enough food of your own?

Well, yes.

How do you get it?

Bees make it.

I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it!

There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing!

It's organic.

It's our-ganic!

It's just honey, Barry.

Just what?!

Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing!

You've taken our homes, schools,hospitals! This is all we have!

And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this.

I'm getting to the bottom of all of this!

Hey, Hector. You almost done?

Almost.

He is here. I sense it.

Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around.

You're busted, box boy!

I knew I heard something.

So you can talk!

I can talk. And now you'll start talking!

Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier?

I don't understand.

I thought we were friends.

The last thing we want to do is ups

[electrikworm]

Test Subjects: Part 2

previous next

Relationships: Crosshair & Echo & Hunter & Tech & Wrecker

Content Warnings: Blood and injury, Drug Usage

Summary:

After finding out about the tampered with stims, Hunter tries to contact Crosshair. Only problem is, Crosshair refuses to answer is comlink. Hunter correctly suspects that something is very wrong.

Word count: 1,650

Read on Ao3

Hunter's crouched near the central landing platform in the base when his comlink activates, allowing Tech's voice to spill into his helmet.

“Do not use any of the new stims,” Tech speaks, sounding out of breath. “They've been tampered with.”

Hunter groans, catching what Tech means immediately. It's been a while since new supplies have been tested on them, Hunter should have expected something like this. Then it dawns on Hunter that it's strange Tech decided to inspect the new stims mid mission.

“Tech, what happened?” Hunter asks. Something feels off.

“I gave Wrecker two. He's unusually hostile and currently running from us.”

“Kark,” Hunter hisses.

“You can say that again,” Echo's voice joins their conversation.

“You two focus on getting Wrecker, I'll contact Crosshair,” Hunter orders, getting affirmative answers from both his vode.

As soon as Hunter's cut the communication with Tech and Echo, he switches to Crosshair's comm-channel. “Cross, we've got a problem. The stims we got are bad, don't use them.”

Hunter waits, waits for a full minute, then two, all with no response from Crosshair.

“Crosshair, answer your comm,” Hunter tries again, a little louder this time. Crosshair has a tendency to block out his surroundings when sniping, but this doesn't feel right. He doesn't answer Hunter this time either.

“Crosshair!” Hunter snaps. The silence answering him is deafening.

Hunter tries to remember the last time he talked with Crosshair, coming to the worrying conclusion that he'd communicated with him directly only at the start of the mission. Anything could have happened during that time. He'd heard the shots of Crosshair's Firepuncher, but that does little to calm Hunter.

He peers across the landing platform. Crosshair set himself up somewhere here, that much Hunter knows. There are deactivated droids littering the the platform in every direction, giving Hunter no indication of the origin of the shots. Crosshair will likely be on one of the roofs or raised platforms.

Hunter will have to rely on his senses to find his little brother. Crosshair's evidently too far away to be heard, Hunter can't hear his heartbeat or breathing. Hunter doesn't let himself linger on the thought that he might be unable to hear Crosshair because he's dead.

Tilting his helmet up, Hunter sniffs the air. There are dozens of smells hanging in the air, fuel and fire being those most noticeable. Some natborn separatist wearing an awful perfume must have been near the platform a while ago and a container of mechanical lubricant must have spilled some way away. Under all the different scents, Hunter can pick out his brother.

Hunter knows they all crossed the landing platform earlier, but distinguishing Crosshair from the others isn't difficult.

Careful of the open space of the landing platform, Hunter follows the smell. If Crosshair is well, he'll cover Hunter, but if Crosshair were well, he'd answer his comm. Even he isn't petty enough to ignore Hunter in such a serious situation.

Hunter moves slowly, watching his surroundings. He can't hear any droids nearby, but that doesn't mean he's safe.

Halfway across the platform, Hunter stops to look at the building he's approaching. The roof is high, no clear way indicating how to get up, but it's the direction the scent has led him so far. Hunter can't spot Crosshair on the roof, but only a lousy sniper would let themselves be seen this easily. That means nothing and says nothing about the state Crosshair is in.

That's when something in the air seems to tense, putting Hunter on high alert. He drops to the floor, blaster bolt clipping his shoulder bell. Ducking behind a crate, Hunter stays flat to the ground. He hisses between clenched teeth as he prods at his shoulder. A second shot rings out, hitting the ground near the crate.

Hunter recognizes that sound. Crosshair's Firepuncher, he's sure of it.

Confusion grips Hunter as he tries to make sense of that revelation. Crosshair wouldn't shoot at his brothers, not in a way that actually hurts them. But no clanker can snipe like that. Hunter's not even sure B1's and B2's can deal with weapons they weren't programmed for.

“Crosshair, what the kark are you doing?” Hunter tries his comm again, not even expecting an answer any more.

There's one way Hunter could explain the situation, that being Crosshair taking one of the experimental stims. He doesn't like the idea of two of his little brothers having unidentified substances in their blood, but it's better than Crosshair being dead and having his blaster stolen.

Moving close to the ground, Hunter sprints to the next crate, just a little closer to where Crosshair should be. Two bolts narrowly miss Hunter. If it's Crosshair on that roof, something in that stim is making him slow.

The next bit of cover is further off. Hunter doesn't doubt Crosshair will hit him if he's exposed for that long, so he attempts to create a diversion. Pulling the arm off a broken B1, Hunter throws it across the platform. It clatters across the ground and, as predicted, it is hit by a blaster bolt split seconds after landing.

Hunter can work with that. Grabbing two more pieces of twisted metal, a head and a plate of metal likely previously part of a droids chest, Hunter runs, throwing one after the other far away from himself.

He doesn't wait around to watch Crosshair shoot, only hearing the two shots across the landing platform. It's a distraction, but not a big enough one. A third shot is fired, hitting the outside of Hunter's thigh.

Either Crosshair's aim is off, or the shooter is toying with Hunter.

Laying on the ground behind the cover of a land-speeder clearly used to haul crates, Hunter listens for movement as he inspects his leg. It's worse than his shoulder, but thankfully missed bone. Hunter grits his teeth as he moves. He's closer now, almost certain he can hear a heartbeat. It has to be Crosshair's.

Hunter looks underneath the speeder, scouting his route. He's almost at the building, only needing to cross a few more meters to get there. The speeder looks functional and from what Hunter can see, he could drive it. Doing so would make him a target, but the speeder can serve as a diversion.

Without thinking too much, Hunter quickly pops up from his cover, activating the speeder. Speed clearly isn't what the vehicle was designed for, but as Hunter runs, he can hear it knocking something over.

Shot after shot is fired, but none at Hunter. Only when he's underneath where Crosshair should be does the agony of his leg catch up with Hunter. Pressing his palm to the thigh plate on his injured leg, Hunter searches for a way up. The heartbeat is louder here, fast and frantic. It's Crosshair's, Hunter's sure of it.

He's in a corner, one wall being almost featureless duracrete. There's a slight indent in the second wall due to a window and a ventilation unit a little above it near the first wall. Above the Ventilation unit sits a grate, likely a part of ventilation as well. Hunter reckons he could use the gaps in it to climb high enough to reach the roofs ledge.

Hunter sighs. Of course Crosshair would pick to scale something like this. If Hunter had the time, he'd look for a better way up onto the roof, but they're rarely afforded the luxury of time.

Pulling himself onto the tiny ledge of the window, Hunter can reach the space between the wall and ventilation unit. Pressing a hand against each surface, Hunter uses his legs to give him enough leverage to lift his hands higher. After a few more rounds of this, Hunter can press his back against the wall to keep himself in place.

Slowly, he shuffles up the wall, pressing himself against either surface to stay up. When he finally grasps the edge of the ventilation unit, Hunter drags himself up onto it, internally cursing Crosshair the entire time.

Hunter's legs shake as he stands up, groaning at the pain shooting through his injured limb.

The grate is a little ways up, so Hunter has to jump to grab it. Not wanting to hang there, begging to be used as target practice, Hunter begins to climb. He's yet to attract Crosshair's attention. If he had, he'd already be dead.

Once over the ledge and on the roof, Hunter crouches low, looking around as he gains his bearings.

Sure enough, Crosshair is laying flat on the roof, Firepuncher in hand. He still hasn't noticed Hunter. A couple of destroyed droids are spread across the roof, proving to Hunter that there must be a better way up here. The air smells of dried blood, giving Hunter an idea as to why Crosshair might have taken a stim in the first place.

As he shuffles closer to his brother, Hunter hears his breathing. Crosshair's almost panting for air, nearly as hectic as his heartbeat. There's no doubt in Hunter's mind, Crosshair must have took a stim.

Hunter doesn't want to opt for immediate hostility, not wanting to harm his brother, but can't think of a good way to subdue him.

Before his mind can go further than that, Hunter's comlink activates.

“We found Wrecker,” Echo says, sounding winded, “Everything good at your end.”

“No,” Hunter hisses quietly, hoping Crosshair doesn't hear him, “Crosshair had a stim too. I've almost got him.”

When Hunter cuts the connection, for a split second, he thinks Crosshair hasn't noticed. Then Crosshair suddenly sits up, turning quickly to stare at Hunter.

“Just me, Cross'ika,” Hunter ties, “Stay calm, I'm not the enemy.”

Usually, speaking softly works wonders against the fog stims put on his brothers minds. Not with the altered stim.

Crosshair stands up, raising his Firepuncher as something almost growl-like falls from his lips and pulls the trigger

Mando'a Translation:

Vod/vode – sibling/siblings 'ika - diminutive suffix, can be added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form

[sukizuhafics]

[🔞] ☔️ Deep Love

-

For Scaramouche — It’s not often that he’s nice. Not that he does it on purpose, no, more like he isn’t sure how to. Plus, being nice is way too boring for him. I mean, come on. He used to be the SIXTH of the FATUI HARBINGERS. How cool is that?!

Nevertheless, the current timeline would probably not be shook by that title. Most of them do not even know what the fuck you’re talking about if you mention such title.

As Scaramouche (or Kunizukushi)’s partner, you’re not much in control. He’d demand and order you and you’d only obey like a selfless puppet. How ironic is that?

Making him happy is one thing, but making him angry is on a whole different level. It’s rare to make him happy anyway. The most distinguishing way to make him content — yes, feeding his ego.

Isn’t he already egotistical enough?

Testing his patience was something he always hated. That stupid playful side of yours had never fail to embarrass or annoy him in any way. Though, being a former harbinger, of course he would punish you in any way, really right?

That wasn’t the case for him. He wasn’t a harbinger anymore, he was your boyfriend. Your lover, your darling. Even if he never publicly displayed or mentioned it, it’s not like he doesn’t love you at least a little bit. You’re both dating for a reason, after all.

Sure, his insults are sometimes overboard.. but it’s not him without being a little mean. You love that most about him..

“What the fuck are you daydreaming about?”

The short, plum haired glared at you with his palm on his chin, rested his elbow on the table. He was already in a bad mood when you both accidentally missed the train because of you.

“I said I was sorry..” You protested, maybe you shouldn’t have thought too much on your outfit to impress him. His comments would just be the usual: ‘You look nice. Let’s go.’

Though, that comment was nowhere to be seen today due to your delay. The couple only sat down at a nice seclude cafe. There was pretty much no one there (your boyfriend ordered everyone to leave).

With a huff, he looked away from you. His pouting face was too pissed off to be seen adorable. “I’m leaving.”

— Just like that, he stood up and ready to leave you alone in the cafe.

“Wait— The next train is here soon!”

“Do you think I care?”

“Well— uhm.. uh..” You stammered, not wanting your boyfriend to leave you there and embarrass you. Your ego is also high after all.

“An.. alternative! Yeah! We can do something else!”

Despite rolling his eyes in a pissed off manner, he stood there and listened to you. How caring.

“Just follow me.”

Normally, he would reply with such responses like ‘You dare order me?’, ‘The audacity for you to utter such blasphemy out of your mouth towards me’.. He remained silent; with a salty face on. The truth is — you weren’t sure what to do either. It was only a spur of the moment because you didn’t want your beloved to leave. Now you’re wishing he actually ignored you and left.

In the corner of your eye(ear), a little promoter was shouting there and there.

“The perfect place for dates! The perfect place for couples! Come order now!”

Save, let’s go!

Surely he won’t get angry at you anymore, right?

-

…

Well, you weren’t expecting this.

You ordered a cab and told the driver to head to wherever the address located on the promoter’s flyer earlier. You didn’t expect it to be..

A LOVE HOTEL?!

You stood in disbelief, cheeks growing redder by the time as you try to avoid eye contact with Scaramouche.

He kept his silence, crossing his arms as he looks at the big building in front of him with a stoic expression.

“..I wasn’t.. expecting this..” You tried explaining, when the boyfriend stepped forward. Entering the lobby while leaving you behind.. you could only catch up to him.

With room reservations handled by him, you only followed him around like a lost and confused puppy. When the two of you entered the room, it was quite large and beautiful. Your eyes widened in awe at the expensive and beautiful decorations that could cost you a head if broken.

“Hm, not bad.” He said, looking around the decorations of the room. It was his first time in a love hotel after all.

There were rose petals along the path to the bedroom. The bed was tucked in beautifully, but not too tight. It looked comfortable.. and you only dream to lay on it and take an everlasting slumber. There were also candles lit to maintain the romantic vibe.

After some time of exploring, you made sudden eye contact with the other. Making you jolt in surprise.

“You brought me here. What now?”

“Uh.. well..”

“😐”

He looked at you in disbelief. Did they really brought him here and expected nothing?

He sat on the bed, the romantic atmosphere gave him an ick.

“Come here.” That was an order. You could only obey. “Why did you bring me here?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Surely you can’t say that you were desperately trying to find another alternative date plan and recklessly picked whatever there was??

“Because.. you.. liked hotels..?”

“What.”

“I lied. I’m sorry.”

Irked, Scaramouche only looked at you in annoyance. He began to feel more and more irritated by your stupidity. Why did he choose to date such a dumb human?

“First you make us lose the train, now you bring me here with no purpose. Are you trying to piss me off or what?!”

He flicked your forehead, cuffing your cheeks forcefully.

“We’re already here, make it worthwhile!”

Those words made your cheeks suddenly grow redder. Was he seriously suggesting the same thing you were thinking? You stood still for a bit, when familiar hands suddenly grabbed your hips, making you sit on his lap. He looked up at you with unamused pissed off expression.

He forcefully connects your lips together, leaving you with no choice but to return the same passion.

Your tongues explored each other’s mouth for a while, making out with subtle whimpers and heavy yet short breaths within each time. He flipped you over, now pinning you down on the bed as your lips stays connected. Your hands over your head.

Once he pulled away, his lips made its way to your neck, kissing softly. His other hand gently sliding under your shirt.

There was no way to turn back now. Your idea for the date was something cute and happy, yet it turned out this way.. Nonetheless, you can’t help but admit that you were slightly enjoying this too.

He grasps on your chest, touching and rubbing your nipples whilst biting your neck. Your mouth letting out a whine in response.

“Shut up.” He uttered, adding a long kiss on your lips as he continued touching you. His kisses were rough.

;

Scaramouche searched through the drawers as you only sat up in bed, your hair a mess and already half naked.

The hotel really was a love hotel — clearly living up to its title. He found some toys and lube inside the drawers, it was surprisingly completed. Who runs this place??

He took the playthings, leaving the lube behind as he approached his way back to the bed. Back to your warmth.

His face was amused; why would he need a lube for? He can make himself wet just by using you.

“Y/N, do you trust me?”

Absolutely not.

Though that answer was not an option, LOL rip

He chuckled before inserting three fingers inside your already-wet entrance. He moved his fingers in and out your cunt. Making you produce embarrassing pleasurable sounds.

He only wanted to hear that.

He grinned, “Fucking slut.”,

“You’re this desperate already?”

“So warm.. what a pervert.”

His teasing made your face light up in red once more, especially with how he was still using his fingers on you.

After a minute, he replaced his finger with the vibrating toy he had found not too long ago. Making you shiver and jolt from the sudden cold entrance.

He lifted your chin, kissing your cheek.

“Listen, Y/N.”

“You’re not allowed to finish until I say so.”

“Got it?”

He glared into your eyes, his violet gaze meeting yours. It was almost hot — No, it WAS hot. God, his gaze alone could make you cum already.

The vibrations turned up, and you could only response with moans and nodding.

“Use your words.”

You struggled, saliva already forming in your mouth from keeping it open so long. You panted, trying your best to response. “Mhf— I- hah.. under..stand.”

“Good.”

He smirked, undressing your top and his own clothes. He watches you squirm, his expression amused. His pissed off and salty face was nowhere to be seen, and he’s only just started.

Upon seeing your helpless self.. the man leaned you down on your knees, your face meeting his cock. It wasn’t hard, you know he wasn’t satisfied yet.

“What? What are you waiting for? You’re being such a whore, yet you’re clueless?”

“Suck it.” He demanded, the same grin never leaving his face.

With the vibrator still inside you, you moved your mouth on his large shaft. Kissing and finally sucking on it like your lover had been waiting for. The whole ordeal is enough to make you feel like finishing..

Filthy noises came out of your mouth as you tried to continue using your mouth on him. He pushed your head lower, his tip reaching the back of your throat.

“Hah.. hn..”

“That’s it.”

He shivered, the feeling turning him on as you were sort of his plaything now. “I want to fuck your throat so badly.. but that’s no fun.” He added after some time, pulling your hair so that your mouth wasn’t filled with him anymore.

He turned up your vibration, suddenly moving it deeper inside you. Oh fuck, you wanted to cum so much.

“You like it.. huh? Letting me fuck you with this toy.”

“Such a slut.. for me..”

“Your noises.. make them louder.”

He moved it in and out, making you gasp for air. He kissed your filthy mouth as he continued on this little game of torture.

His free hand going to rub your nipples once again.

“Pleas— h-hah.. let me..”

“Cum? You want me to let you cum?”

“You’ll have to try harder than that, sweetheart.”

Oh, how cruel of him. You want to let it go so badly. To cause a wet mess you’ve been so patient on holding in. You were going crazy at this rate. Begging was almost useless, only moans of pleasure came out of your mouth. When he finally took out the toy that had been so deep inside— fuck.. I’ll break, please—

Ah..

Y/N groaned in pleasure when they couldn’t hold it anymore, earning a temporary pissed off expression from their boyfriend. His angered look then turned into a chuckle as he teased your hole with three fingers, your hole that was still releasing sticky and filthy substance.

“I told you to hold it in.”

“Pfft.. hah.”

“I’m gonna fucking break you.”

Before you could react, he removed his fingers and slammed his hard, large cock inside you. He thrusted it quickly, moving in and out of you so deeply it had already reached your most sensitive spots. Each thrust growing faster than the one before.

“Hah— ah, ah.. you.. ah..”

“Fucking whore.. hngh..”

He kissed you multiple times, making you unable to breathe and only letting him use you to his needs. You broke a rule, after all. Rules aren’t meant to be broken.. are they?

You jolted and shake within each thrust. No comprehensible words could be heard from you other than moans and the syllables “Sca..ra..”

“F-Fuck.. ah.. you’re..”

“..taking me so well..”

He kept thrusting himself inside you, biting and sucking on your nipples. At some point, he couldn’t help but join in the helpless and non-stopping moans.

—— I mean, he wasn’t going to lie. He wants to finish too.

Inside you, that is.

At least.. a couple of times?

“Ahn.. hah.. mnh..”

“Hahn— ah.. hngh..”

“Fuck-fuck— uhn, ah..!”

“Mn.. ah— hah.. shit.”

“Fast..er.. ah.. more.. I n-need more of you..”

“I can’t get enough.”

-

He was being so fast, you could’ve sworn you came at least twice in that span. For some reason, he completely stopped.. pushing himself deeper inside of you. Grinding.. at this rate, you’ll finish for the fourth time.

..When he hasn’t finished at all!

“Y/N..” He spoke, a bit breathless.

He began thrusting really slowly, each thrust hitting a certain pleasure spot.

For a bit, he stopped. Retracting his body, but still kept the both of you connected.

He lifted your legs above and on his shoulders, going for a position to penetrate you deeper.

“Y/N.. Y/N…”

He repeats with the same breathless tone, like that was the only thing he can think of right now. His mind completely empty with nothing but you. Only you.

After some time, he moves once again. Thrusting inside you deeper, rougher, faster.

“Nn.. hah.. ah.. All the way inside..”

“You like this.. right? When I.. uhn.. ah.. go so deep.. I can feel myself.. on your stomach.”

He pressed your stomach, finding himself.. how deep he was.

His pace grown faster and faster until he was reaching his point of climax too. He kissed you multiple times, trying to reach his point of release.

Eventually, he thrusted himself into you a bit more as he released. Wanting his seeds to reach the deepest parts of you.

He finally stopped completely, the two of you groaned loudly as you released.

It was your sixth release.. and it was his first.

“Hah.. haah..” he panted, “Not yet, I’m not done yet.” He kissed your drooling mouth, not giving you any chance to respond.

“Need.. more of you.”

He slowly moved inside again.

-

Scaramouche never publicly displayed his affection for you, other than his seldom need for a cuddle or a kiss. Sometimes, even his money spent for you is what you can call a symbol of affection.

Yet tonight, it was something you’d never expect. You could hear a subtle “I love you” coming from between his pants and thrusts. He repeated; “I love you” and again, “I love you so much”

Ah, what a hassle.

You can’t help but love him too, despite his cruelty.

You’re totally gonna tease him for this afterwards.

The End

A/N

YOO can’t believe my first smut after so long is a SCARA X READER????

(funfact i dont like scara but i commissioned my friend kinda and she heeded a scara smut for compensation 💔💔💔💔)

It was fun writing this on my 7 hour flight :3

I feel like I just wrote Azeru’s script lmao

Thanks for reading!

[aita-blorbos]

FAQs

You've asked, and we've answered! ...a lot! Here's a compilation of (most of) the questions we've been asked, all in one place.

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... For the last four, if your ask makes minor use of caps, small text, leetspeak, or colored text, it will probably get posted with tags like "small text," "not screenreader friendly," or "colored text."

Excluding, to the best of our ability, Harry Potter, we do not delete submissions based on what the source material depicts. 9 times out of 10, we don't know what the source material even is.

Can I submit something about real people if they've been dead for a long time? We would still prefer that you not. If your media of choice is something like SIX, Hamilton, Our Flag Means Death, or any other fictionalized account of real peoples' lives, we may choose to delete your submission even if we recognize the fandom... or there may not be enough to distinguish it from real life, and delete it because we thought you were submitting something about the real Anne of Cleves.

What about Jesus? Jesus was probably a real person but we'll make an exception.

Are 'sequel' submissions (the same scenario from another point of view, a followup, etc) allowed? Yes! However, it's up to you to figure out a way to tie back to your previous ask. You are welcome to do this in the form of a reblog, but we probably won't see it.

Can I submit an ask about my OCs/fanfic/roleplay/other non-canon thing? Sure! Though if you're submitting something about someone else's fic, we'd prefer if you had the author's permission. Same principle with roleplay--everyone involved should be OK with it going here. (We won't know if you don't have permission, but we'd like to remind you that it's polite to get it.)

Do I have to tell you if I’m submitting something from a fic/roleplay/AU/OC/whatever?

You do not! You can if you want to but it doesn’t make a difference to us.

Can we post stuff that has spoilers for X media? Yes*. * Please don't send in submissions for stuff that's less than a month old, as we can't realistically tag spoilers.** ** The exception to this is remakes/adaptations/remasters/etc, which we don't consider to be "new"*** *** Unless something new actually is added, in which case only that specific thing is considered "new." So, if you have a scenario that utilizes that specific thing, please wait a month. If not, you're good.

Can I ask if you've gotten my submission/if it's been queued? Yes, but only off anon, and we will only tell you if it's in the queue or the askbox. We want to answer asks like this privately instead of clogging up peoples' dashes with them, and we do not want to dig through our blog for a specific post. You do that.

If I submitted something off anon, will you let me know if you decide not to post it? Yes, we will answer your ask privately to tell you why we do not want to post it.

How many times do you post a day? 12 posts are published a day.

Can you post more? No. This is an irritating question. You are encouraged to make your own blog if you don't like the way this one is run--we don't have a monopoly on this idea!

How long is the queue? A few days to a week, usually, including stuff in the askbox that hasn't been properly queued.

What do these acronyms mean? YTA = you're the asshole NTA = not the asshole (this means someone else is) JAH = justified asshole NAH = no assholes here ESH = everyone sucks here INFO = more information is required to make a decision

Some of the characters I want to post about are nonbinary. how should I format my submission? We do not require submissions to include the age or gender of any characters. However, if you want to include this, what we've seen other people do say is 18NB or 18X.

Can I put trigger tags at the top of my submission? Yeah that's fine! We also try to tag common triggers, although we don't tag for murder or human death because so many of these stories involve murder.

Right now we tag: - Unreality (every post) - Animal death - Suicide - Rape/CSA - Child harm/death/endangerment - Abuse - Kidnapping - Stalking - ... And a whole bunch of other stuff

All our trigger tags are just the trigger with no CW/TW

Why do you sometimes post submissions that are basically just a characters name? They're not what this blog should be for.

People think they're funny, so we publish them. It's not the joke format the blog was originally intended for but it's one that people seem to enjoy, so we're happy to post those types of submissions!