#It feels like a million wasp stings all at once

[mss-eclipse]

I hate cramps

I feel like I'm giving birth what the hell

Ouchie

Why must my body give me big ouchie

[poisoned-peppermint]

Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it

Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech

George: See also, esteemed bastards

Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids. 

Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws

~~~~~~~

Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors

Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum

Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same

~~~~~~~

Foolish:When's your bedtime :)

Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods

~~~~~~

Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons 

Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout

~~~~~~

Bad:You’re enough

Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~~~~~~~

Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.

~~~~~~

Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work

Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone

Bad: wait for you to get back

~~~~~~

Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in

Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.

Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch

~~~~~~

Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish

Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep

Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall

Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.

Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.

~~~~~~

Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out 

~~~~~~

Quackity: If I were dating you?  Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore

Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!

~~~~~~

Skeppy: Are you ok?

Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like

~~~~~~

Sam: My hands are cold

Ponk: *holds their hands*

Ponk: better?

Sam: My lips are cold too

~~~~~~

George at dream’s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?

Sapnap: of course *leaves*

George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.

Dream: yeah no shit

~~~~~~

Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.

Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?

Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.

Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you

~~~~~~

Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.

Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.

~~~~~~

Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*

Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate

Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*

Skeppy: No!

~~~~~~

Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know

Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!

Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?

Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!

~~~~~~

Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you

~~~~~~

Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?

Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)

Wilbur: that’s a turtle

Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?

~~~~~~

Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it

Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended

Ranboo: No

Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

~~~~~~

Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

~~~~~~

Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?

Bad: Sex.

Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.

Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.

Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.

Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?

Ant: Food.

Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?

Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.

Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?

Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.

Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.

Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!

~~~~~~~

Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

~~~~~~~

Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?

Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.

~~~~~~

Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re pathetic!

Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!

Techno: You’re both losers.

~~~~~~

Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.

Skeppy: Bad, please!

Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

~~~~~~

Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?

Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.

~~~~~~

Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

~~~~~~

Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!

Bad: LANGUAGE!!

~~~~~~

Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.

Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!

Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*

Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

~~~~~~

Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.

Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.

~~~~~~

Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.

Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*

~~~~~~

Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Puffy: Where did you get that?.

Bad: My pocket.

Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Bad: Skills.

~~~~~~

Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.

Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-

Quackity: Spiders?

Bad: Spiders it is then.

Quackity: No, that wasn’t-

*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…

~~~~~~

Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.

Punz : Break her bed not her heart.

Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings. 

Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.

Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!

Tommy: Bet you I can!

Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

~~~~~~~

Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?

Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!

Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.

Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

~~~~~~~~

Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!

Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.

Pummel party Squad: …

Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

~~~~~~~~

Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Phil:

Phil: Why are you eating dirt?

Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.

Tubbo: You don’t even know.

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!

Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!

Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.

Skeppy: WAIT NO!

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?

Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.

Bad: Good, because I hate you

~~~~~~~

Bad: Are you a painting?

Skeppy: What-?

Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?

Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.

Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Tommy: I earned this, back off!

~~~~~~

Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-

George: Finally! You’re proposing!

Dream: How’d you know?

George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

George: I even picked it up once

~~~~~~~~

*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*

Bad: Aw. :(

Skeppy: You know what they say.

Bad: Please don’t-

Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*

Bad: Frick-

~~~~~~~~

let me know if ya’ll want more <3

[analogical-spacegays]

Written for @poisonedapples based on their Patton's Home for Traumatized Kids series :)

If there was one singular benefit to the searing pain coursing through Remus’ leg right now, it’s that the pain was pretty damn effective at preventing him from really thinking about how much his cousin hated him. At first he could hardly see straight, his vision blurring as he crumbles to the ground. His leg feels like a million wasps are stinging it simultaneously and he barely registers as the red blob that is his asshole cousin turns and limps away. For a few minutes all Remus can really do is lay there in the grass, panting softly and yelping every time he tries to move his leg (spoiler alert: he doesn’t do that too often) with the pain taking up all of his brain capacity. 

Slowly as Remus’ head and pain start to clear the tiniest bit, he can’t help but feel a burning,intense rage like he’s never felt before bubble up inside of him. What the actual fuck Roman?! First off, calling him here just to beat the shit out of him made Remus’ blood boil, that’s the epitome of a dick move. And it was totally undeserved too! All Remus had done was try to get his attention once, and he’s been acting so fucking weird to. It should not be that hard to get in contact with your cousin, especially when the two had been practically inseparable as kids! 

In his fit of rage Remus had failed to notice the slowly setting sun and the cold breeze that has started to raise goosebumps on his shoulders. As he lightly blinks, he begins to notice the change in time and the magenta and orange hues that have begun to fill the sky. The last stimulus he finally becomes aware of is the wet streaks running down his face where some bitchass (he uses cursing as a coping mechanism, okay?!) tears have decided to start streaming. He sniffles a little and wipes away the offenders as he starts to slowly go to stand. He doesn’t bother trying to use the newly broken one, and tries to sloooowly put weight on the one already in a boot. He freezes as a pain shoots through his leg and a wave of horror crashes over him….actually no, it’s more like getting run over by a bus driven by someone out for his blood. There’s no way he can walk all the way home on two legs of varying degrees of broken…god how was he going to get home?? Between the pain and the emotions flooding his brain, Remus starts to sob and his shoulders heave. Eventually he gets enough sense gathered to fumble and pull his phone out of his pocket, his hands shaking as he opens the phone app and dials his mom’s number. He takes a choked, gulped breath as it dials and can’t hold back his cries as his mom picks up, worry evident in her voice as she asks him where the hell he’s been. 

“M-Ma I…I need help….please….I-I’m at the park and I can’t walk…..I think Ro hates my guts…”

[bokunosimpfiction]

Kidnapped Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt.5

Summary: You feel emotions other than rage and sarcasm oh my god 

A/N: The reason I took a break from this series was because I had no idea where to take it from that cliff hanger, and I felt that character development needed to be done before we dive head first into the plot. This is part of that, but keep in mind it’s not filler like Chapter 2 became. I think it’s funny that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING ONE SHOT BUT APPARENTLY FUCKING NOT. I’ll be posting another chapter for this series soon. Also feel free to send me asks about this series. I’ve been getting comments on my ao3 that are a) genius b)hilarious and c)heartwarming. Talk to me. Please! Ask and anon should be open right now let me know if they aren’t!

Masterlist link for previous parts:

Link to this chapter on AO3:

Taglist: @localdepressedvampire​ and one person recieving updates via email

The fresh cold late-autumn air made your lungs sting. And the layers of clothes didn’t help fight the chill you didn’t know you were facing. Has it been that long since you’ve been outside, to see the sun? You stick your arms in your armpits under your outercoat. Well, Heisenberg’s spare trench coat. It was much too big, the cuffs of the sleeves going well past your fingertips and the bottom half an inch from the ground.

You were so used to the fluorescent lighting and the warm dry air of the factory, that your body went into some type of culture shock. It felt like an allergic reaction to the outside world itself. Adjusting to it once you escaped would be hard.

“You’ve clearly become less fit since you started living with me,” Karl says in a matter-of-fact tone. You’d be insulted if you didn’t hear him say weird stuff about the other lords or the occasional brain-washed villager who brought up offerings. One had sewed you a wool and fox-fur dress and brought it up in September, in preparation for the winter. He’d thought it dumb at the time, but it protected you from the November chill better than anything you’ve ever worn.

Did they think you were a woman? Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t change the fact that it was comfortable, warm, and made you feel better than the clothes you’d been wearing before in the factory or even before. You felt safe.

“Of course, I have, I’ve been sitting on my ass,” you retort.

“Still see that sass is intact.”

“It’s something that’ll never leave me.”

“You’d make a terrible house-spouse.”

“That’s the point,” you sigh hard, and you can see the cold air in front of your face, “I had a whole ass college degree before I came here and got my ass kidnapped.”

Karl whips around and looks at you, tilting his head down to peer at you from above his glasses. “You have a college degree?”

“Why are you surprised? Did you think I was that stupid?” Even if the question is sarcastic and witty, you felt a pang of hurt reverberate in your heart. Did he really think you were that stupid? Apparently so.

“I have two masters. One in aerospace engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Double majored in those fields for my bachelors at Oxford on a full-ride scholarship of robotic engineering.”

His mouth drops open. “And I didn’t know about this because?”

“It never came up.”

He pinches his nose, “you could have been helping me this whole time in the shop, and I let you sit on your ass and play care-taker.”

“More like forced me.” At this point, you’ve stopped walking, and you’d be able to see the manor of Benviento if it weren’t for the fog.

“Besides the point.” He looks stressed. His eyebrows are furrowed, a deep frown is on his face and his whole disposition makes him look genuinely conflicted and upset. “Let’s just go.” He gestures for you to follow him and stomps up the path.

You follow him, trying not to slip in the mud. Converse doesn’t have great traction, you realized. Maybe you should have worn hiking boots. “Listen, dirty Dr. Doofenschmirtz-“

“I don’t want to listen to your dumb nick-names right now.”

You stop again, and your fists ball up at your side around the fabric of the sleeves of his coat. Your coat. The coat you’re wearing.

“Why the hell are you so mad at me!” It’s not a question. It’s an exclamation of emotion. For some reason, it hurts. Even if you despised him, hated him with all your being, having someone love you unconditionally felt nice. He was toxic at best, sociopathic at worst, and yet he loved you so strongly it tore the both of you so part. To feel that admiration has gone missing, even if for a second, sent you reeling. You can’t explain why you softened towards him.

“I’m not.” He keeps walking before he realized you stopped. He turned around to look at you. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” He looks for the words. He’d never been good at expressing himself, you realized. Better through actions than words. But you didn’t want him to act on whatever he was feeling.

You wait in silence, eye-watering, trying not to cry.

He sees and rushes over to you. His left arm wraps around you and his right hand gently grabs your chin, his index finger underneath to lift your chin up to look at him. “Don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry.”

You struggle to take a deep breath, choke on it, and the world feels so much more dangerous. A million malicious eyes gazing into your soul, whispers of panic fill your brain, and flashing thoughts of running right now, of hurting him or you flash through like lightning in a foggy storm. Every damn thing feels hazy and thick and you’re choking on the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to. I don’t want you to be mad at me, I don’t want-“

“Take a deep goddamn breath.” You feel his tobacco-scented breath on your face. You can see panic flash through his eyes for a moment. You hate the smell, and it suffocates you even more. “You need to breath.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, and your breath shakes like a wasp nest about to fall from the highest branch. “Why are you mad at me?” This time you genuinely ask. You don’t want a reason, but rather a reassurance that he isn’t at all.

His lips form into a snarl that doesn’t come out before he presses them in a tight line. As he thinks. It makes you even more nervous. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the fact that I had an opportunity that went to waste.”

You look up at him. “Okay.”

He wraps his other arm around you and places his chin on your forehead. “Let me know when you’ve calmed down.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and breathe.

In. Out.

In.          Out.

In. OUT.

In… out

In.

Out.

 In.

 … out.

“Do you feel any better?”

You wait a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” You ponder for a moment. “I think I had a lot of pent-up anxiety from everything.”

He stays quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He places a kiss on the crown of your head, his beard ruffling your hair. “Are you not going to forgive me?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. It’s…” How do I phrase this? “I worked hard for this anger. This anger to love me, to know I didn’t deserve this, to be kidnapped, to have my head ready to be mounted on a stick.” You continue, “if I stop feeling angry, if I forgive you, I’m afraid I’m losing that. That’s why I tried to escape because I loved myself, I wanted better for myself.”

“Was I… Was I not providing enough for you?” His question strikes you like an arrow.

“I-“ You stumble on you’re thoughts for a moment. “It’s less of you not doing enough, but more of the rough foot we started on.” You sniffle. “When I gave up, I felt like I lost a part of myself, all that I worked for. That degree included. I felt all my efforts, all my struggles that I faced outside this goddamn village had gone to waste. That it wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it.”

You had promised yourself to keep him at arm’s length, to not give him clues to manipulate you. But you poured your heart out into his. You felt him shake and squeeze you tighter.

“Never. Ever. Feel like you aren’t worth it.” You feel something wet on your scalp. “You deserved better than each challenge that you faced, and each bit of hurt you felt along the way.” It’s his turn to choke on his words. He takes a shaky breath above you, and you can feel his heart pound faster. “You, darling, are worth everything.”

Something small inside you breaks. He’s just as human as you are, you realize. In this desperate attempt to escape, to fuel this hatred that’s worn you down, you’ve villainized a man that’s felt even more pain than you. A broken man, who thinks you’re the glue to put him back together. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to, but you do, because you’ve felt a fraction of the pain he’s felt, that he’s currently feeling, and it’s made your mind and bones ache far after the situation ended.

“And so are you, Karl.”

He unwraps his arms from around you. “Come one butter-cup, let’s go. Ugly-ass-psycho-doll is waiting for you. Says she wants you for a fitting and some tea party with her demented child, Angie.”

“Angie? Who’s she.”

“Well, you’re about to find out.”

[franstastic-ideas]

I just got stung by wasps, and Tommy was a little late in warning me that hitting a tree could knock a wasp's nest loose! Speaking of, how would the boys react if their girls got stung by wasps?

Ah, the wasps... I've been playing Animal Crossing since the Gamecube days, so I'm plenty familiar with what happens when you shake the trees.

In Undertale, Sans winces when he sees how swollen Frisk's face is, but he takes good care of her stings. Papyrus screams when he sees what Chara looks like, then apologizes profusely because he just added insult to injury.

Sans of Underfell freaks out, of course. He's asking her a million questions as he's trying to take care of her, one of them being if she's allergic to wasps, and then panicking further when he realizes, "why don't i KNOW if you're allergic to wasps?!?!". Papyrus takes care of Chara's stings as calmly as possible, then goes out of his way to nuke every other wasp nest in the vicinity.

Sweet Underswap Sans swoops in as Frisk is being attacked; he gathers her up in his arms and whisks her away to safety. Then he dotes over her, tending to Frisk's swollen face by getting her medicine, and tells her she's still beautiful with total sincerity. Papples, he tries to help, but then he learns that he's afraid of wasps - so both he and Chara are in this together, running away from the stingers and taking care of each others stings later.

Swapfell Sans steps in right as Frisk is being attacked as well, but for whatever reason his mere presence is enough to make the wasps back off. Much like UF!Papyrus, once he's finished applying medicine to Frisk's face, he's going to remove every nest in the area himself. As for his brother... Papyrus drops to his knees and spreads his arms out in front of the wasps and cries out dramatically, "take me! take me instead!" ...But all that resulted in was both he and Chara getting stung terribly.

After G takes care of Frisk's stings, it's a long time before he'll let her walk alone around wasp territory. He's got one arm around her, ready to shortcut them both out of there at the first sign of a swarm headed their way. Green, he's got the best medicine for stings, but like his brother, he's keeping his sockets peeled for more wasps and feels uneasy about leaving Chara unattended in the danger zone.

As for W.D. Gaster, once Frisk's face has healed thanks to his medicine and love, he's taking her to every single wasp nest in the entire surrounding area, and then they're blasting them to kingdom come with a bazooka. Together~ ...Well, that's HIS plan, anyway.

[seanhowe]

“Superwomen Fight Back!” by Diane K. Shah Newsweek, March 20, 1978

Red Sonja, the "She-Devil With a Sword," was once again facing certain doom. Jimodo, the giant general, was advancing on the fiery redhead with a mace and whip. "Consider it an honor, sniveling wench, to be killed by Jimodo, the greatest," he roared. Undaunted, Sonja brandished her trusty sword, severed the whip and impaled the lumbering giant. AIIIEE! Similar fates also await the ne'er-do-wells who tangle with Medusa, "The Mistress of the Living Locks," or—heaven help them—Power Girl, Superman's long-lost cousin from the planet Krypton. And these spritely ladies are only a few of the superheroine comic-book characters who, though they're built like Raquel and dress like Jane, are busting through walls and bashing skulls right alongside the men. AARRGH! Superheroines have been around in one form or another ever since Wonder Woman appeared in DC Comics in 1941. But recently, raised consciousnesses on Earth have seeped into comic-book land: new heroines are being created, old ones updated. Five superwomen now have comics of their own—Ms. Marvel, Spider-Woman, Red Sonja, Wonder Woman and Madame Xanadu, "Mistress of the Occult”—while others like Black Widow, Hawkgirl and the fighting Femizons are becoming more prominent inside other comic books.Wonder Woman soon will leave the U.N. crisis bureau to be-come an astronaut. Six months ago, Hawkgirl, the wife of Hawkman, finally joined the Justice League as a full-fledged crime fighter. Even perennial schoolgirls Betty and Veronica have be-come staunch supporters of women's lib. "Kids today just won't accept women in roles of being exploited," explains Leonard Darvin, code administrator for the Comics Magazine Association of America, Inc. Like their male colleagues, superheroines battle villains, talk in exclamation points and now, according to a CMAA code change, are even allowed to get zapped back (though never raped). And just like the men, each has her own special superweapon—Medusa her snakelike hair, Ms. Marvel her awesome strength, the Wasp her deadly sting. But not only do superheroines have to battle the bad guys, they must also contend with their chauvinistic male allies. "I hope your swordsmanship is the equal of your pretty face," a teammate tells Red Sonja as two blackguards approach. "Strange," she replies coolly, "I was just going to say the same about you." Not all feminists are delighted at the trend, however. Some question whether superheroines are proper symbols of liberation. "I don't see why you have to be wonder women to prove you're somebody," says Betty Friedan. Stan Lee, publisher of the Marvel Comics Group, agrees female characters are exaggerated, though necessarily so. "Once we get over the guilt feelings for the way we've treated women in the past," he says, "we can let them settle down and be more realistic." But Jenette Kahn, the 30-year-old publisher of DC Comics, believes that the whole purpose of fantasy is "to create heroes and heroines who can do things that we cannot.” Still, balloons of reality occasionally intrude. Deep in combat, Mary Marvel realizes her costume is inhibiting her. She wrenches off her short sleeves, then muses: "I'm fighting for my life and worrying about how I look. So much for my raised consciousness!" But then, Ms. Marvel and friends still live in a man's world. Virtually all of the 200 titles published each year are written by men, and the 250 million copies sold annually are read predominantly by boys. Moreover, the comics are drawn almost entirely by males (which may explain why these liberated souls flit around in fancy underwear). And some men still want to protect the superwomen from their new equality. DC Comics writer Bob Rozakis recently outlined an episode in which Robin "The Boy Wonder" found himself face to face with a cold-blooded murderess. Robin was supposed to grab the femme fatale and hurl her head-long into a brick wall. But the artist balked at the assignment. "Couldn't Robin just sort of trip her?" he protested. Rozakis replied: "Not any more." CRUNCH!!!

[scarletwitching]

I'm curious about Wanda's whitewashing controversy. Especially with the X-Men and Gifted buzz, you don't see nearly as much criticism over Erik or Lorna not being played by Jewish actors, or "Peter" being more whitewashed than either MCU twins. It's really jarring to see someone censure Elizabeth Olsen in one post while hyping Fassbender or McKellan in another. Obligatory "I know you don't like MCU questions," but do you think you could shed light on what seems to be a prevalent double standard?

I have no clue why people didn’t care when it came to Quicksilver in the X-Men movies. I saw someone say once that it was fine because Evan Peters “looks Southern European” and ummmmm………………. 

As for Magneto, I have some thoughts.

I think the big answer is here is “the US-American view of race,” if that makes any sense. The US view on things tends to be treated as default in English language fandom, and viewing goywashing (is that the term? I think that’s the term) as different to whitewashing is a very US-American view.

You’re assuming that Ashkenazi Jews and the Roma/Sinti occupy identical or interchangeable places in the great nonsensical mess that is race… stuff. I don’t want to get too deep in the weeds on this because it’s way above my paygrade and people tend to end up here when they try, but it’s not necessarily hypocritical for people to view different groups differently. Whitewashing takes more than one form, and a person might think one example is unacceptable, whereas another is a “missed opportunity.”

Plenty of people put Wanda in the “missed opportunity” category too. And others say that casting an actor who isn’t Jewish as Magneto is automatically not okay. The latter group tend to not be in X-Men movie fandom because it’s been twenty years and he still hasn’t been played by a Jewish actor.

Then there are people who are begrudgingly okay with Magneto being played by non-Jewish actors thus far, but would be extremely annoyed if they cast another Magneto who still wasn’t Jewish. (I’d say I’m in this camp.)

There are also people who think Magneto should be Sinti because he was for a time and none of these characters have backstories that make sense.

Putting all that aside, there are other mitigating factors, such as:

Magneto is established as Jewish in the first scene of the first X-Men movie. Unlike Wanda, who has three giant crosses on her bedroom wall. The obvious counterargument is that they can just make Wanda Roma or Sinti and Jewish at some later date, but 1) that seems to be firmly in Emma Stone in Aloha territory, at least to me and 2) Olsen herself is… yeah. She was cast half a decade ago and still doesn’t understand what her character’s ethnic background is. She’s never bothered to learn anything about any of this. She doesn’t care. Even if you think it’s okay for a hypothetical WASP-y white person to play a character who is Jewish and Roma or Sinti, I think this WASP-y white person has disqualified herself.

There have been Jewish creators behind the camera, shaping the direction of Magneto’s story in the films since the beginning. One of the reasons people want actors cast who are the same ethnicity as the characters is the cultural insights they can bring and the way that affects the overall product. While it’s not the same thing, having people behind the camera who are from that culture is also important. You may not like Singer or Kinberg or the choices they made (I don’t), but at least, they’re there. There are no Roma or Sinti creators deciding what happens with Wanda. Bendis and Loeb were on the creative committee back when Age of Ultron was being made so that’s two Jewish voices theoretically in the conversation at the beginning, but 1) I doubt the creative committee had much say and 2) it’s Bendis and Loeb. The guy who made everyone hate Wanda by making her commit a genocide, and the guy who made everyone hate Wanda by making her fuck her brother.

There are several other Jewish actors who have been/are currently in superhero movies, playing some of the most recognizable characters in the genre. Having other Jewish actors in the mix, even if they aren’t playing explicitly Jewish characters, takes the sting out to some extent. (For some people, not everyone.) There are no Roma or Sinti actors in any superhero movies. That voice is absent from the genre, on and off screen.

Then there is the second biggest thing, which is the performance. Whether or not people like the performance and the character overall affects how they view these things. The movie version of Magneto is generally well-liked, even though he murdered millions of people. Fassbender and McKellen have an easy confidence in the role that elevates even bad movies.

That said, my appreciation for Fassbender went way down when I learned certain things about his personal life. I feel uncomfortable with uncritically supporting him or movies he’s in. Why do people keep doing it? I don’t know. No clue.

Olsen has trouble imbuing her characters with personality. They tend to be defined by what happens to them, rather than internal characteristics. They don’t usually feel distinct from one another. Some of that is the writing, both in and out of the MCU, but it’s also her performances. That’s not me saying she’s a bad actor. Acting is an art. There are variety of skills involved. It’s not just columns of “good” or “bad” actor that you sort each person into. You can be talented in some areas and fail in others. In this genre, crafting a noticeable personality is key. 

(There’s an argument to be made here about MCU Bucky and how he’s supposed to seem empty for much of his screentime and the ways that’s different and also the same, but this post is NOT getting any longer.)

For me personally, there are other things that make a difference. Whedon copy-pasta’d Wanda’s background in the MCU from an Azeri-Iranian character in Millar and Hitch’s Ultimates 2. You can’t take elements from a character of color’s life and give them to a white character in the adaptation like you’re grave robbing a corpse.

…

Okay. Yeah, I guess you can do that, but you shouldn’t.

There’s also the issue of how the US military is handled in the MCU. That’s my biggest sticking point and why I don’t like posting about these movies. There is enormous cowardice in the way Wanda’s arc in Ultron is constructed. Some of Iron Man’s victims finally get a voice. That’s theoretically a good thing. But any scenes that acknowledge the US military’s involvement were cut. And Whedon chose to cast, not just an actress who isn’t Roma, but the blondest, palest actress he could find. And any mentions of their status as an ethnic minority were cut. And they do evil things that make no sense for no reason. And the movie does not care to explain their thought process. And they can only be redeemed by joining Iron Man.

The real problem here is the MCU can’t have brown people saying, “Iron Man is bad,” and explaining why they feel that way and not murdering random people to get back at him. The MCU won’t contextualize its main character. It won’t talk about the crimes he committed (war crimes), who he committed them with (the US and other military powers), and who he committed them against (mostly people of color).

So, if Wanda is going to represent his victims, she has to be white, evil for no reason, and act in completely nonsense ways. And that makes all of this even worse than regular examples of whitewashing.

[rawrzimon]

In Hushed Whispers

So this was a terrible idea given to me by a few readers and @solverne-02 about what happened after Redcliffe to Athena and the others in the year before the Inquisitor and Dorian show up in my fic Tales of the Fadewalker. 

So I wrote it - trigger warning for minor torture and wounds - just in case.

It had taken three months for The Elder One to come to full power.  

Without the Mark, unnatural tears in the Veil conquered the skies.  

The members of the Inquisition that were in Redcliffe Keep fled when Dorian and the Herald of Andraste did not return. But without a keep such as Skyhold to protect them, the people of Haven fell.  

The final battle from the Chantry was led by Commander Cullen, who so bravely stared into the faces of a thousand demons and struck them down by one by one. Watching him fall was the thing to break the Inquisition’s resolve. When the demons broke through the Chantry doors, they did not kill everyone on sight. They were led by their corrupted Templar masters and ordered to drag the survivors back to Redcliffe for information.  

Corypheus and Alexius were still paranoid of the return of the one who could close the rifts. But even more so, his Nightmare Demon had whispered stories of one who had crossed the Veil. One who had crossed from worlds and clung to secrets of Thedas. Those rumors spread through the remaining members of the Inquisition and one by one they turned.  

You could have prevented this!

You knew!

Unfortunately, she knew. Even worse, she knew that they would all be destroyed in this reality. They would cease to exist the moment the Herald came into this reality and disappeared again. It was difficult to hold onto that hope when every day she was dragged through the sludge of Redcliffe’s underbelly and thrown onto a rack. They grew unique in their tortures.  

The obvious first was physical. She was lashed until the leather of their whip hit bone. She was held underneath water until she thought she would never know air again. Joints broken, skin torn, everything but her spirit was attacked in those opening days. All for shreds of knowledge in a world that didn’t matter anymore.

 Then there was the mental. The Elder One had endless demons at his disposal and Nightmare was particularly skilled in breaking through her walls. With a body that was barely a shell, how hard could it be to break though the mind? But she still held on, and with each passing day the screams faded. She had accepted her reality. She had accepted the future of the millions of stinging wasps that demons fabricated into her mind.  

The Elder One did not care for weakness, and there were no healers in their ranks. They had to force one of the Inquisition’s own to do that sort of work for them. So, every day, for months, Athena’s broken body was thrown onto a cold, hard table in front of an elf. The sight of him used to bring her joy, adoration even, but when her secret was revealed to the Inner Party he became as detached as the rest of them. He would fix her body when it was broken, mend the wounds and return her to her cell so that it could all be repeated the next day.  

It wasn’t until her mind began to break that she saw the first signs of sympathy on his face.  

There were no wounds to stitch together, no blood that was spilt. She was dumped onto his table a trembling shell of a person with his back facing him. There was no more life to her eyes, no more music, nothing but the darkness of what was left of the Fade. “What do you cling to?” He asked once the door closed. It was the first time they had spoken in weeks. He had no more words to say when he let her know what he thought of her knowledge, but she never said a word. She didn’t have the energy to.  

“Are they gone?” She asked, her voice a thousand miles away, trapped within the shard of light that was left in her mind.  

He nodded solemnly, his hands lightly touching to see if they had hurt her anywhere. She could feel that his aura grew weaker by the day and the red lyrium even corrupted his touch then. “They have turned the corner. We only have minutes before they return.” He whispered, his voice low.  

“I cling to knowing it could be worse. For everyone left.” The words tore at the cracks in her dry lips and she tasted blood. It was such a familiar taste to her she barely noticed. Still, he passed his hand over her face and healed that, as simple of a cut that it was.  

“I do not believe that to be possible.” He chided at her as his dwindling magic tingled over her lips. It was the closest thing she had to comfort those days. She reached forward and stopped his hand with hers. His gasp would have once brought her joy, but she was numb to the sound.  

“If you can trust me at all. . . trust me that it can be worse.”

They waited two weeks before bringing her to him again with actual wounds to heal. Each visit, they tried to speak more and more. From what she could gather, there were still a few of the Inner Party alive. She knew this because that time they had changed their routine with a mixture of the two. They had made her watch Leliana’s own process and for the first time she almost said something, but a very stern look from the former Spymaster gave her a bit of strength to keep her silence. So, there she lay, bleeding and cold, on the all-too familiar healing table.  

“There will almost be nothing left if you continue - “  

The predictable sound of a strike broke through the room and her eyes widened, hand clutching the table as fresh anger surged strength through her body.

 “Do your job, or you’ll join her next time.”  

They were left with their silence, but she groaned and pushed herself to a sitting position, ignoring the stretching of her back that brought even more bleeding. They had sliced his cheek open with the punch and even his blood now looked to glow with the corruption of the red lyrium. It pained her to see it, so she gestured for him to come closer. He looked to her with confusion, taking a step forward for her to do something she hadn’t tried in a long time.  

The magic was hidden within her, rolled up into a ball and placed underneath all of the pain, all of the non-stop suffering. The Templars knew how to contain such magic, but she had a glimmer left and she promised herself she would wait for an opportunity to end her own pain. She knew then that they would never allow that. They watched her sleep, the only time she had alone was when she was with him. If she died during her supposed healing, they would kill him in a moment.  

Too precious of a resource.

So, she unwrapped that gift, unrolled it until the magic tingled underneath her fingers and onto his cheek. He stilled under her touch, but did nothing but relax as what little healing magic she knew lightened the bruise and erased the small cut formed from an outlandish champion of Dumat. Somehow, she felt even more exhausted when he looked up but for the first time she felt a glimmer of happiness.  

“That was unnecessary.”  

Athena cracked a broken smile. “So is healing a dead woman, but you continue to do it anyways.”

She didn’t break, proudly, for almost nine months.  

The healing sessions became her reprieve, the few moments of her day where she didn’t have to worry about pain. That, in time, began to be used against her. There was a day where she was just hung from her chains, all day, with nothing but silence as her companion. It would have been alright, if not for the burning in her wrists.  

That was until the first stifled scream.  

It was deeper than usual, but somehow familiar. It was the same sound of struggle she had heard on the battlefield when he tried to cast a spell, or when he was hit by an enemy. He was never one to fully cry out, he was too restrained.  

Immediately she jerked against her chains, knowing exactly why they had started.  

“Stop it! Leave him alone!”  

Her voice was hoarse but she still cried out, her arms yanking the chains back and forth until they made a sound. The groans from the other room stopped. There were armored footsteps and then the door opened, the sparking eyes of a Red Templars piercing through.  

“That was quicker than we thought. Dumat – a fucking knife-ear? It’ll be over if you give us something, Fade-Walker. The Elder One is not a patient man.”  

She jerked against the chains, ignoring the way the metal pressed into her skin. “Like what? He already has half the world and an army of demons at his back.”

  There was another strike and a followed hiss of pain, the Templar not even breaking eye contact with her. She jerked against the chains and felt hot tears sting her eyes. It had been so long, she had forgotten what the feeling was like to cry. “There’s a Temple. . . “ Another strike. “A fucking Temple near the Emerald Graves – now would you please just stop?”

The Templar leaned over and raised his hands then the sounds stopped. “Tell me more.”

Athena shook her head, feeling a small bout of rebellion. “Not until tomorrow.”

 “That will cost you.”  

She waited a beat, shaking her head before meeting the soldier’s eyes. “So be it.”

That day had been the worst. But every strike was worth it, knowing she was saving someone else from getting the same. Plus, at the end of it all, they laid her worn body, slicked with blood, on his table. He, moving a bit more stiffly than before, still walked over to the table and began his duties the moment the door shut.  

“You did not have - “  

“Solas.”  

The tone of her voice was so definite, he didn’t say another word. She waited until halfway before twisting a piece of her hair, what was left of it, unsure of what to ask. “I need to ask you something.”

He made a small sound of acknowledgement as his magic worked into her back and her legs. Her voice dropped to as low as possible, as she gripped her upper arms and asked: “What happened to Felassan after you killed him in the Fade?”

The magic flickered in his hands but he did not stop. She heard him move and looked over her shoulder to see him looking to the door. When there were no footsteps, he looked back to her with a sigh. “It seems pointless to refute it now. When a person’s spirit ceases to exist in the Fade, their bodies loses that connection.” He gasped softly and looked over his shoulder before cursing under his breath. “But with the Breach and your physical weakness you will simply- “  

“Die.” The word felt like a relief in itself. They both sighed and she shuddered underneath the coolness of the table. “Can you do it?”

The magic completely stopped and she rolled over, onto barely healed scars, and met his gaze. He crossed his arms over his chest, took in a deep breath, and nodded. “What more could you be protecting?”  

“I will tell you. . . in the Fade – or whatever could be left of it.” He made a noise of frustration before the sound of footsteps interrupted it.  

“You need to focus past the red lyrium – it is difficult, but it is there. You have shown me your dreams before so it will be easier but we won’t have much time and it may not work.” The door opened and he stepped back to allow them to carry her back to her room. She was able to catch a glance at his eyes before the door slammed quickly behind them.  

Solas had been right, the red lyrium was like a swarm of angry insects buzzing around in her head. But past that, she saw green. It was fragmented, and hurt, but there were some remnants of the Fade there. Spirits were being torn through Rifts and it was difficult to raise a barrier to keep demons out, but within seconds he was there. He ran towards her, each step appearing as a flicker in time but eventually he came to her and she couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him.

 “You.” She finally answered, feeling hot tears of miasmic energy falling down her face from the strain of staying in the Fade.  

“What - “ He started to ask, his hands hesitating before holding her to him as if she were about to slip through.  

“You, Mythal, the eluvians, the fact that the Herald is coming any day now and this will all be a terrible nightmare – he cannot know this. I don’t know how much longer I can last and I do not want to be a liability for the Inquisition. I cannot let others die in vain.” His embrace grew tighter and he turned his head into the crook of her neck, his grip shaky as he nodded and whispered a mumbled apology into her neck.  

“Ir abelas, vhenan.”

She didn’t know where the blade had come from – if it was a figment of the Fade or a shard of red lyrium from nearby – but in his embrace she felt the warm sting of relief. It pierced her and emitted a terrible light into the Fade, waves of power coming from her body as the energy of her spirit dissipated into the Fade, a final whisper of gratitude drifting with her essence across the Veil.  

[maraudersmessrs]

Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban--- Chapter 16: Moony

Ao3 link

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20 / Chapter 21 / Chapter 22 / Chapter 23 / Chapter 24 / Chapter 25 / Chapter 26 / Chapter 27 / Chapter 28 / Chapter 29 / Chapter 30 / Chapter 31 / Chapter 32 / Chapter 33 / Chapter 34

(Warning: there is slightly graphic descriptions of the Change and brief suicidal ideation mention)

It was an odd sensation, after a few days of drinking the Wolfsbane potion in succession; he hadn’t realized how closely the wolf usually lurked under the surface the week before the Change. He was slower to irritate, now, and it was far easier to actually feel as calm as he projected; he was able to be unerringly polite to Severus whenever he dropped it off. Unfortunately, it didn’t do much for the physical symptoms of the pain and nausea and general decline of health, as he would need to transform whether he kept his mind or not. And now that the time was drawing nearer, he was growing inexplicably nervous.

For the first time, he would be himself while being not himself. He usually remembered most, if not all, the memories of the night before when he transformed back, but now there would be no blank spots and no cut off point; it would just be...him. As the wolf. This would be the first time he would be even remotely coherent during a full moon since he had run with the rest of the Marauders. Usually, all there was to remember was a chaotic blur of rage and blinding pain, frantically searching for an escape and the ever present need to bite and tear and kill. With them, though...it had been different. It had been almost fun. Because with them, it wasn’t a time of fear as it had been through his childhood; fear of discovery, fear of hurting people, fear of the pain. For them, it was a time of adventure and they had treated it as such.

“You're funny when you're Moony, y’know,” Sirius had said suddenly one day, when they were all silently working on homework on their respective beds.

“So, that's staying, then. That name. THAT name.”

“I mean, it fits, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, I'm Moony, the werewolf who moons people.”  Remus made a pained face. “I love it.”

“Weren't you the one who said we needed anonymity for the Map?” James chimed in without looking up from his paper, frowning in concentration.

“Yeah, but I meant NAME names. Like fuckin’ Fleamont,” Remus deadpanned and James did look up.

“WILL YOU NEVER LET THAT GO?”

“I mean, you were the one who made the mistake of telling us,” Sirius pointed out reasonably. “It's US we're talking about.”

“Ridiculous middle names aside,” Peter said and a strangled noise came from James’ corner. “What about the rest of us?”

“So we're REALLY sticking with that?” Remus complained loudly and was met with a chorus of “YES.”

“What do you first think of when you think ‘dog’?” Peter asked Sirius.

He sauvely ran a hand through his mane of black hair and started confidently, obviously going for something cool, “Pad--” he faltered and lost a bit of steam. “Uh...ffffoot.” He visibly cringed.

They stared at him in silence. “Done,” announced Remus and turned to the other 2. “What about you?”

“No no nooo, do over!” Sirius wailed.

Remus ignored his plea triumphantly. “Nope! Give a stupid name, get a stupid name.”

“That is--that is so unfair. James, Moony is bullying me!”

Remus grinned. “Shut up, PADfoot.”

“Ugh!! White Fang!”

“No.”

“Death wish!”

“No!”

“Uh, uh, Swift...butt!”

“Holy shit, you’re bad at this. What would James be?”

“Lightning!”

“We're not talking about you anymore PADFOOT, we're talking about Mr McStag over here.”

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed and put the back of his hands to his forehead, spreading his fingers. “Uh, what are those things? Oh oh OH--PRONGS!” he yelled, excitedly.

James looked affronted while Sirius and Remus burst into simultaneous laughter. “They are called ANTLERS, thank you very much.”

“PRONGS!” Sirius howled.

“Prongs!” Remus choked in agreement.

“What about me?” Peter seemed wary of asking, seeing the way James was mock glaring at him.

“Sniffy!” Sirius fell back on his bed and rolled around, tears streaming down his face.

“No--no-- Tinypaw!” Remus hiccuped.

“Wormtail.” James said bluntly and Peter let out a soft moan of despair, because he knew what was coming.

“WORMTAIL!” The other 2 wheezed and broke down into complete hysterical peals of laughter.

“Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?” Peter repeated dubiously.

“What a bunch of idiots!” Sirius hooted.

Well past the time any homework was going to get done, they had managed to stop breaking into spontaneous giggle fits and migrated to sprawl on the floor. ”Okay, but you said I was’ funny’ as a werewolf?”

“Oh, yeah, that. Yeah, you know, you always talked about how you just become a mindless animal who only wants to kill but you actually, like, play around.”

Remus was silent and James added, “You got water up my nose last time. Lake water. It was gross. And you totally did it on purpose,” he stretched out his foot and kicked Remus’ leg.

“Ow. How do you know that?”

“You did the thing that dogs do when they smile; you were totally laughing at me.”

“You guys...I don't really like the idea of you thinking that…that that's me. It's dangerous. It's a monster. I don't want you to underestimate it.”

“So you don't remember?” Sirius rolled onto his back and began opening and closing the 4 poster curtain with his wand, idly.

“I mean...I do, some. Nothing complicated. The wolf doesn't think like the same way we do.” But he had had to admit, the wolf was exponentially calmer when they were all together. He almost never hurt himself anymore when he Changed. He sighed. “I just don't want you guys to be hurt. Don't…don’t PLAY with it. It only takes one bite--”

“We know, we know.” Sirius waved his hand dismissively. “Just one bite, whether we're in human form or not. Where are we going next moon?”

Where would he go this moon, alone? Remus sat in the armchair in his office, tapping the arm restlessly as he stared out the window at the sinking sun. His last potion was drunk, his office locked and warded, just in case, and a space cleared in the center of the room for his Change. This time in the cycle never made him calm, but he hadn’t been this nervous about it in a very long time. Usually, it was just sort of a tired, dull acceptance when he prepared, but this new attention to every detail gave him a heightened awareness that was even more uncomfortable. He had had a constant headache all day and all his joints felt like they were under some immense pressure, which was normal; the day of the full moon always felt a bit like being wrung out and run over at the same time. But he now felt every sensation, paid attention to every thought and it was driving him a bit...well, loony. Shaking his head at himself, he checked his watch, then removed it, undressed, folded the clothes, and placed the lot in the middle of the desk.

It was close now, he could feel every one of his scars prickling, aching. All his muscles felt taught as piano wires. It was hard to tell if he was more nauseous than usual. Maybe he should have asked Snape about side effects. Funny.

The first convulsion of pain that smashed into him stunned him. He had been waiting for the lurch of vertigo that usually preceded the whole thing, but no. Just immediate, crushing, twisting, burning, snapping agony. Joints cracked backwards, radiating starbursts through his body. Muscles folded, knotted, melted. His skin was a millions of repeating wasp stings. He was blind. He was deaf. Skin stretched beyond tearing, every bone broken, shifting. And then it swelled, cresting to the point where he always was secretly hoping that this time would be his last, that this would actually be the death of him. The part where he would be pummeled into darkness to surface the next day.

But no. It was just him. Him and this furious, liquifying force that was taking his body and breaking it. He didn’t know how long it continued. It felt that this was all he had ever known. This is where he had always been. Right here, on the floor of this office, writhing. The full Change blistered through him with no recourse, no unconsciousness.

Finally, his mind clarified enough to realize he was simply laying on his rug, panting and sore. For one, heartstopping moment, he thought he had not Changed after all but this was quickly erased as he tried to lurch to his feet and realized that his body no longer twisted that way. It gave him an uncomfortable buzz of hyper awareness as it felt at once alien and familiar to stand on 4 legs, to be able to move his ears, to smell every person who had been in this room. This is something his body knew that he did not. It was strangely empty to stand there, the thing he feared but needn’t, for now. The monster was gone. But the monster was him. He shuddered and slunk under the huge oaken desk to curl up. He did not look at the moon.

He did not sleep.

[shellalana]

Cicadas

NSFW beneath the cut

Knees trembled at the feel of the woman’s tongue between her legs, tracing the stretch marks running up her thighs. Rain beat against the thin walls of the tent and cooled the heated air within. Reyna found it difficult to remain standing with her back braced against the centre pole that kept their makeshift structure upright, but it was a struggle she was willing to face if it meant not avoiding the stinging cold of the downpour. Sensing her plight, the thin woman with the black hair lifted the Valkyrie’s knees to her shoulders, parting her even more for the taking. She teased with gentle sucks of her outer lips before she dove in. Her bright green eyes took in the writhing form of the Rogue queen as she tongue-fucked her, her wetness sliding down her chin with every contraction. Reyna felt herself melting into those bottle-green eyes, they way they looked up at her just above the curve of her stomach. Dull nails scratched against her scalp and she locked her legs behind the woman’s head as she worked her hips against her to her own rhythm. Low keening begged for more, and she definitely obliged the request. It was a sight and sound to remember for years to come. It wasn’t long before Reyna did too. Light steam wrapped their tangled bodies with the cool air they allowed in through the tent flap, chests heaving with exertion and light chuckles that filled the tent with more heat. Reyna couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so good with a partner who’d dedicated their attentions to her needs instead of trying to find a balance. She was selfish, she knew, but she wasn’t going to give that up for a half-assed encounter that left her feeling unfulfilled. In the midst of trying to catch her breath, she’d dozed off at some point, and awoke to find it dark outside. The rain had finally stopped falling, but the scent of the rain’s moisture still left her drowsy. “Mmm, you awake?” Fica whispered against the back of her shoulder before peppering it with soft kisses. If Reyna could have paid for this kind of treatment every day, she would be broke as hell. “Almost. Why? We going again?” She rolled herself over and atop the other woman, pinning her shoulders in place to have her way with her neck. So thin and delicate. She wouldn’t have imagined herself with this kind of girl, someone so soft and needing protecting. But there’d been a hidden spark in her that Reyna recently discovered, and she was glad for it. Hand traced and gripped at her peeking hip bones before she found herself being flipped onto her back once more. “You know couples do other things than sex, right?” “You mean the boring s**t?” Her thigh found the other’s sex, Fica’s perfect mouth pursing in an “O” at being taken by surprise. But she didn’t let it distract her for long as she removed herself and sat back on her haunches. “From the sounds of it, you’re just looking for a f**k buddy.” “Like I have time for something serious,” Reyna replied with a roll of her eyes. They’d been through this before, and neither of them had budged on the issue. “Then what do you call this?” Fica gestured at their surroundings. “There’s nothing serious about going on vacation with the woman you love?” The word stung like a million angry wasps in the pit of her stomach. Is that what she thought this was? “This was a date.” “A date. We’ve been together three years now, and all you can call this is a date.” “Like you said, couples do other things, right? Pretty sure dates are one of them.” “I can’t believe you right now...” A cold glare was all Fica gave her before she snatched her clothes and scrambled out of the tent to change and to get away from her. With her absence, Reyna had nothing to listen to but the cicadas in the trees, singing their hearts out for the perfect mates... before they died. Reyna couldn’t protect her forever, no matter how much she wanted to. No matter how much her instincts screamed at her to throw everything away for her, to give up everything she’d worked for up to this point. One selfish fantasy could be made a reality with just a few words, a passing of the torch to someone else, and spending the rest of their lives in bliss. ... to where? There weren’t that many undarkened planets left. There weren’t many people left after each new massacre committed by the Varelsi. There wouldn’t be anything left if she chose her happiness over...

“I’m sorry I got mad at you,” Fica squeezed the water out of her hair as she stooped outside the tent. The dip in the nearby stream had done wonders for her mood and she regretted bringing up the dead subject they would never find common ground for. “I just... thought we were going somewhere, you know? But if this is what you really want, then I shouldn’t put all my expectations on you.” Silence. “... would you feel better with some makeup sex?” More silence. “... Reyna?” Pulling the tent flap back revealed she’d been talking to no one. Her clothes, her stuff... all gone, save for a note. I can’t do this anymore.

[poeticgray]

You must feel my hurt because you never sleep in my direction. That or my over active brain is catching all the wrong waves. It's torture. I can't help but to stare at you. So calm. So soft. So deep within your sleep. the water stings my eyes. Like a million wasps have hit me all at once, My face swells with waves of salt water that are out of my control. I leave the bed because those subtle gasps of air I cling to between sobs are sure to wake you. And then you'll win. You'll pull me close and I'll let you in. No longer will you have to face the corrupt situation you've caused cause I'll be blinded by your strong arms. Those beautiful arms I once ran to for protection. Those arms I now enter with precaution. Yellow tape separates us And although I want more than anything to cut them away, I know my body will one day be traced with white chalk. And I'm just not ready to let you kill me yet.

Yours truly, Gray

[orangoh]

flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. will be gone. They're very lovable creatures. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. Do you know you're All right. Take ten, everybody. He's going to sting me! - Yeah, me too. Make it one of your special skills. paid good money for those. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! is very disconcerting. that's ready to blow. they know! It's their way! Open your eyes! Next week… My mosquito associate will help you. We're bees! Use the stairs. Your father And thank you We have roses visual. of that bear to pitch in like that. honey would affect all these things. - I'm not attracted to spiders. Yeah, you do that. Listen, everyone! What were you doing during this? And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. belated congratulations on I don't know. Ooffee? You did? Was she Bee-ish? Ken, could you close Barry, we did it! Order! Order, I say! I move for a complete dismissal Bring the nose down. You're an illegitimate bee, We're friends. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Your Honor, How about a suicide pact? All right. Oase number 4475, shouldn't be able to fly at all. Judge Bumbleton presiding. Yeah, but some don't come back. Barry! You're talking! They heat it up… You need a whole Krelman thing! small ones. But bees know - Bye! I lost a toe ring there once. What's number one? Star Wars? That was a little weird. The Krelman opened up again. That's a drag queen! What will the humans do to us Wow! working late tonight! It's time to fly. It was the scariest, Wrap it up, guys. Heads up! Here we go. Security will be tight. No, it's OK. It's fine. Aren't they our cousins too? Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. not for the reason you think. - Right. - No, no, no, not a wasp. Yeah. It doesn't last too long. He's a lawyer too? You mean like this? We're all aware Rotate around it. crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. - No. Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! to do with your life? - How many sugars? - Hey, buddy. - Across the nation! Ooming! So be careful. As always, I hear they put the roaches in motels. Make out? Barry! - Moose blood guy!! having a big 75 on it. I don't know. We had no choice. Are you…? Honey's pretty important to me. if they win? I'm not making a major life decision Flowers?! Laying out, sleeping in. - Poodle. I believe Mr. Montgomery You get yourself into a rhythm. Pasadena, Oalifornia. A puddle jump for us, I can't believe I'm doing this. Why would I marry a watermelon?” - Thinking bee. Robotics! Ventriloquism! I don't know if you know What was that? A Pic ‘N’ Save circular? - Good friends? - That would hurt. your life more valuable than mine? 'cause we're the little guys! It's a horrible, horrible disease. Look at that. Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it anything about fashion. which will be the trial babbling like a cicada! Same way you did, I guess. Even if it's true, what can one bee do? He runs up the steps into the church. your opening statement, please. the window please? and there's gallons more coming! Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. let alone a bee. That concludes our ceremonies. All right, launch positions! - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! This is the coolest. What is it? How come you don't fly everywhere? You wouldn't get this from any other guy - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. We're going 0900 at J-Gate. It's not a tone. I'm panicking! They have presented no compelling Bees don't smoke. full-hour action news source. Where are you? Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! doing the same job every day? It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. You've really got that He had a paw on my throat, I couldn't overcome it. Mr. Benson imagines, than mine? Is that your statement? or it's gonna be all over. You ready for this, hot shot? See a mosquito, smack, smack! There's us and there's them! Also, I got a couple of reports - Stinger, check. They're doing nothing. It's amazing. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. Wow! I'm out! This isn't a goodfella. Nothing worse What do we do now? No. Yes. No. - Have some. at the point of weakness! Honey really changes people. through your living room?! - Thanks! watch your brooms, like a piece of meat! work a little too well here? Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, Nobody likes us. They just smack. Oh, I'm hit!! but they don't check out! What happened? Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye You know, I've just about had it - Wonder what it'll be like? Janet, your son's not sure can work for your whole life. Roses! That's why we don't need vacations. Do we? Don't move. - Yes, it is! Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, Hey, what are you doing?! If we're gonna survive as a species, - Hello. Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down And he says, “Watermelon? One-eighth a stick of dynamite! Very close. We are not them! We're us. - Which one? I heard it's just orientation. - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Oh, yeah. Fine. You, sir, will be lunch He'll have nauseous I can't fly a plane. Stand back. These are winter boots. I don't understand to use the competition. we don't make very good time. - Barry Benson. Hang on a second. Hey, Honex! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Oan't fly in rain. Who told you humans are taking - Oh, boy. and he agreed with me that eating with Just a row of honey jars, Ready? Full reverse! for a few hours, then he'll be fine. from the last flowers free these bees! - What is that?! Attention, passengers, your part and learn your lines, sir? You ever think maybe things Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. Our honey is being brazenly stolen I just want to tell you how I'm feeling …kind of stuff. Well, hello. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. When I leave a job interview, they're the size of a pinhead. stolen by a human Never thought I'd make it. She saved my life. The same job the rest of your life? No, I was just late. You sure you want to go through with it? flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. But choose carefully Don't be too long. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could blow right now! Royal Nectar Force on approach. Outside the hive, flying who knows This can't possibly work. He's unconscious, Giant, scary humans! Why does everything have for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. No problem, Vannie. Goodbye, Ken. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? Good afternoon, passengers. But I have another idea, and it's Are we doing everything right, legally? - Is he that actor? That's the bee way! - Bee! Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! There he is. He's in the pool. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. I'm relieved. Now we only have Oh, my. What's available? What angel of mercy loaded with people, flowers Oould you slow down? I thought you said Guatemalan. Our queen was moved here. The human species? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You snap out of it! Orazy person! I just hope she's Bee-ish. I saw the flower! That was genius! “You like jazz?” No, that's no good. - It was so stingin' stripey! Spin it around! to get to the point where you The Pollen Jocks! Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the - I can't. I'll pick you up. - Talking to humans?! Eat this. - Hey, Barry. Bee honey. - You going to the funeral? I blew the whole case, didn't I? - Where have I heard it before? We know the game and we're gonna play it OK, Dave, pull the chute. Dead from the neck up. Honey! - For people. We eat it. I'm helping him sue the human race. Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! to that woman? from it illegally! Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. Wait! Stop! Bee! of stickball or candy stores. This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. “The surface area of the wings and an incapacitated flight crew. This couldn't hurt a fly, making balloon animals? Boy, quite a bit of pomp… And they make out! Right… there. I can talk. - Are you allergic? All we gotta do is get what they've got Trying to alert the authorities. Thinking bee! - Hello. with the Sky Mall magazine? How can you say that? to San Antonio with a cricket. Those ladies? for stealing our honey, There's a bee in the car! considered one of the best lawyers… From what I understand, I think this is gonna work. Mom! The bees are back! If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Here's the graduate. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. packaging it and profiting as they're flying up Madison. I've seen a bee documentary or two. Be careful. - Yes. No high-five! I didn't want all this to go to waste, Yeah, different. To us, to everyone. Match point! All right. your hands were still stirring. Wait, I think we were Thinking bee! Thinking bee! We may as well try it. - Me? Except for those dirty yellow rings! Gotta make you understand scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured Bees have never been afraid - How do you get it? - Adam, stay with me. - We are! Ray Liotta Private Select? Specifically, me. - Sounds amazing. of root beer being poured on us. - No. seems to be on the move. All adrenaline and then… - Hey, Jocks! - Oh, my! so you don't but we do jobs like taking the crud out. My brochure! of all bee work camps. Layton, you've Just keep still. I don't know. Bye-bye. Spray him, Granny! - Ever see pollination up close? is automatically color-corrected, Well, if it isn't the bee team. is blend in with traffic… You boys work on this? Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, have worked your whole life Order, please! Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye - What? - You snap out of it! Heating, cooling, because you're about to eat it! Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. don't know what he's capable of feeling. I'd be up the rest of my life. to smoke machines I don't eat it! Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! Stop! Security. It's a beautiful thing. I can't believe I'm out! Tap it. to close that window? what I'm talking about. The ball's a little grabby. Martin, would you talk to him? - That's very funny. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. we just pick the right float. It's a close community. Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, Where is your proof? just a couple of bugs in this world. a little stung, Sting. Don't kill him! here in downtown Manhattan, - Bees hang tight. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you with the flower shop. No. All right, I've got one. I can't explain it. It was all… Yes, and Adam here A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You've taken our homes, schools, from the hive. I can't do this”? I don't imagine you employ for a second. Hold it. - So those aren't your real parents! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. I can't get by that face. In tennis, you attack She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oongratulations on your victory. Yes, I got it. You're flying outside the hive, talking …get you something? I know this is also partly my fault. against a mushroom! You got to be kidding me! You look great! As a matter of fact, there is. squinty eyes, very Jewish. “They make the honey, six miles from here tomorrow. than a daffodil that's had work done. Oh, no! It is? It's not over? - Because you don't listen! and just leave this nice honey out, Watch it, Benson! - How'd you get back? I'm getting to the bottom It's a bee law. to say, “Honey, I'm home,” a little celery still on it. Oh, yeah. is developing. …without arousing suspicion. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing But you can't! We have a terrific case. Pinhead. I want to do my part for the hive, - I'm talking with a bee. Step to the side. These bees are stress-testing I had virtually no rehearsal for that. I have to, before I go You wouldn't break a bee law. - We're going live. - We're still here. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. Ma! I got a thing going here. Anyway, if you look… - I couldn't hear you. absolutely no talking to humans! - That's awful. I know every bee, plant He's denouncing bees! Long time? What are you talking about?! it makes a big difference. I… - Repollination! It must be dangerous So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden You do that! the roses have the pollen. Vanessa! No, no. That's a bee law. You had your “experience.” Now you chopsticks isn't really a special skill. - Hey, guys! I could really get in trouble. We've known each other for so long Actually, it's completely closed down. I didn't think bees not needing to make We get behind a fellow. is to remind them Humans! I can't believe I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. - Sure is. You don't have that? - Where should I sit? Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye She's… human. and you could be the pea! - Order in this court! Yeah. Gusty. and as you all know, Right. Oh, that was lucky. - These stripes don't help. Did you see the giant flower? What about Bee Oolumbus? This is your captain. Maybe this time. This time. This time. - Supposed to be less calories. in your possession the entire time? - What if Montgomery's right? Oan't breathe. less value than yours? I don't want to put you out. …really hot! The last thing we want - I hate to impose. Honeyburton and Honron! I remember that. flying in an insect-like pattern? in New York. They've done enough damage. Bees have good qualities. a long time, 27 million years. in quadrant nine… of the bear as anything more Roses can't do sports. Hallelujah! Kenneth! What are you doing?! Flowers, bees, pollen! buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. And begins your career Thinking bee! Say again? You're reporting It goes under the mattresses. Looking sharp. Barry, who are you wearing? He doesn't respond to yelling! OK, Barry. Once at the airport, I love this incorporating What were we thinking? Look at us. We're on what 0900 means. Restroom attendant's open, a division of Honesco At least you're out in the world. I'm so sorry. yesterday when one of their legal Turn your key, sir! I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! It's an incredible scene There was a DustBuster, They're all wilting. There's my hive right there. See it? And he happens to be what it's come to for you? Hello? What's going on? Are you OK? That's an insane choice to have to make. there is no way a bee Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. where the world anxiously waits, We need to talk! Did you ever think, “I'm a kid You did it, and I'm glad. You saw That's just what In the face! The eye! - A little. Special day, graduation. You know what your problem is, Barry? - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! Stop yearning. Listen to me! You don't have any idea - Sure. - Ken! is also a special skill. - Antennae, check. you pick for the rest of your life. He's all set to go. Mr. Montgomery, of nature God put before us. How much do you people need to see?! - Bye. - That flower. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yes. Anger, jealousy, lust. All the honey Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down You couldn't stop. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get Oh, my! You think billion-dollar multinational Are you all right? - Is it still available? - Hi, bee. - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. and the ladies see you wearing it. Wax monkey's always open. What was it like to sting someone? Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. - Well, yes. - I'll bet. Beekeeper. I find that It smells good. But it's our yogurt night! And I don't see a nickel! tea-time snack garnishments. I could feel it getting hotter. Don't y'all date your cousins? - Guys! So you have to watch your temper. Three days college. I'm glad I took I thought their lives would be better! - What's the matter? We live on two cups a year. They put it I've got a lot of big life decisions Enjoy your flight. to all the bee children? to think about. How is the plane flying? you'll see how, by taking our honey, my friend. Thinking bee! behind this fellow! Move it out! Gross. - Then why yell at me? that you're devilishly handsome - Bees make it. that was ours to begin with, Barry? Vanessa? with our lives. I'm Oarl Kasell. We're headed into some lightning. From NPR News in Washington, “Mama, Dada, honey.” You pick it up. for a happy occasion in there? - Out? Out where? You don't have - She's my cousin! I don't want to hear it! there's no trickery here. - This. from my heaving buttocks? because you'll stay in the job to bees who have never been asked, the building! So long, bee! No, you haven't. And so here I guess I'll see you around. is now in session. of what they do in the woods. The wedding is on. This isn't so hard. Oh, yeah? - Why not? should be able to fly. - Hang on. Two left! Where is the evidence? Oh, no. Oh, my. your Emmy win for a guest spot - It's organic. He's dead. Another dead one. Oannonball! Barry, this is what you want How much longer will we allow - It's like putting a hat on your knee. a moving flower? It's exhausting. Why don't you Where you getting the sweet stuff? - Yes, they are. Between you and me, to make one decision in life. on ER in 2005. Oan I help who's next? sorry, but I gotta get going. Then if we're lucky, we'll have at Honex Industries! We're not dating. And it's on sale?! - He's back here! - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! This is an unholy perversion To be in the Tournament of Roses, - Mooseblood! I just want to tell you how I'm feeling It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Dad, I remember you Hello? Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. the Krelman. Well, I guess I'll go home now Oan't fly in rain. my grandmother was a simple woman. with a churning inner turmoil - It's a bug. I had no idea. Listen, you better go - Remove your stinger. I know. It's notjust flowers. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, This is over! Oandy-brain, get off there! See that? It's a little bit of magic. - Oan you believe this is happening? Yeah! get with a moth, dragonfly. Inside we both know what's been going on That's Barry! That's a bad job Instead of flowers, people Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Hold it. Let's just stop Hi! What? You're not dead? I'm OK! You know what this means? There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. The bees! That's what falls off what they eat! Roses?! Hello! Oool. I think I'm feeling something. Look at these two. - You a mosquito, you in trouble. to work for the rest of my life. I've made it worse. bee-negative nicknames… So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. This harmless little contraption? Yes, but who can deny run everywhere? It's faster. Wait for my signal. You'll be happy to know that bees, Who's your supplier? Stand to the side, kid. - A little scary. That means this is our last chance. - Today's the day. All right, they have the roses, took a pointed turn against the bees I have an idea. - Thank you. Don't waste it on a squirrel. All of you, let's get Smoker? That's amazing. Why do we do that? Drapes! - You snap out of it! That bee is living my life! I'd like to order the talking All right, let's drop this tin can You did come back different. of this court's valuable time? have just enough pollen to do the job! of bee culture casually But let me tell you about a small job. Welcome to Honex, You think I don't see what you're doing? - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - She is? Sorry, I've gotta go. - Wow. What horrible thing has happened here? Oall your first witness. - No. taken up enough All right. I was already a blood-sucking parasite. We've been living the bee way - I'm going out. to improve every aspect This was my new desk. This was my Shave my antennae. Flowers! Bees make too much of it. these absurd shenanigans to go on? Wait. One of these flowers Yes? Yes, Your Honor! - What'd you get? All rise! The Honorable - Not enough. Hold me back! Our new queen was just elected Bees have 100 percent employment, I gotta get home. I know. Just having some fun. To Honey Farms. have done! I intend to do something. in Pasadena. with no one around. Mr. Montgomery's motion. Doesn't look very good, does it? - Picking crud out. Stellar! More than we realized. you copy me with the wings of the plane! And the bee is talking to me! and we make the money. we'll have three former queens here in - Some of them. But some of them don't. that moves. Where you headed? Wait, Barry! - Like what? Museum of Natural History keychains? And Jeanette Ohung. What happened here? Weather with Storm Stinger. Actual work going on here. I feel so fast and free! - I guess. Very carefully. I prefer sugar-free, artificial What happened here? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Bees? Bees don't know about this! - It's part of me. to have to consider Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it That's a man in women's clothes! Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. This thing could kill me! - I told you not to yell at him. of bee existence. I don't think these are flowers. - That girl was hot. Sorry. You're busted, box boy! - Oh, Barry… to be a very disturbing term. Affirmative. Their day's not planned. The Thomas 3000! the five food companies collectively? Got everything? but they were all trying to kill me. - I'll sting you, you step on me. birds, bears and bats. how much honey was out there. I'm a florist from New York. Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. A perfect report card, all B's. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. what I think we'd all like to know. - Is that another bee joke? I don't know. But you know A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Biting into your couch! team stung Layton T. Montgomery. are giving balloon bouquets now. - Hello! What's your status? Look. That's more pollen we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Jock. You have to be bred for that. What life? You have no life! under the circumstances. Tournament of Roses, - That may have been helping me. with no water. They'll never make it. an amusement park into our day. Order! Order! without paying a royalty! - What in the world is on the tarmac? to benefit from the bounty That's insane! It's the greatest thing in the world! Oome on! All the good jobs but I can't do it the way they want. We're bees. (Ooh give you up) You want a smoking gun? (Ooh) Never gonna give, never gonna give (give you up) Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Sting them where it really hurts. You have got I'd be better off dead. Look at me. Now we won't have Do you ever get bored Hive at Five, the hive's only They eat crazy giant things. Have a great afternoon! Keep your hands and antennas - Oh, no! What is that? will finally belong to the bees. - Hello. I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect Sports with Buzz Larvi. What are you doing? And it takes my mind off the shop. - Right. You're right. We make it. And we protect it How old are you? I know. Me neither. - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! It's pretty big, isn't it? Oh, my. This is a badfella! Spitting out your throw pillows! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. - Her name's Vanessa. Bees don't smoke! Vanessa! and talk to them. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. Oopy that visual. There's heating, cooling, stirring. …9:15. Sorry I'm late. for it a little bit. Everybody needs to stay Well, I met someone. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor Yeah, fuzzy. Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! - You almost done? behind the barricade. “What's the difference?” late-breaking news from JFK Airport, he could be on steroids! Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Bear Week next week! the entire animal kingdom. let's move it out! - What? hospitals! This is all we have! - I'm getting the marshal. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. And whose fault do you think that is? - Is that that same bee? haven't these ridiculous bugs - I think he knows. Because you don't free bees. - We're all jammed in. Unfortunately, there are - What are we gonna do? That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. Wait a second. Oheck it out. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. to start thinking bee, my friend. Oan we stop here? we have yet another example So you can talk! - Roses are flowers! This is a total disaster, all my fault. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? than a big metal bee. Will we pick ourjob today? Like tiny screaming. Why doesn't someone just step on Barry, come out. Nah. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? don't work during the day. It's fantastic. It's got all my special Has it been Where are you going? by flowers, crowds cheering. - Look at that. - Objection! Up the nose? That's a killer. Never gonna run around and desert you Mr. Flayman. Would you remove your shoes? Wow. …bedbug? They don't know what to do. that gets their roses today. Ken, could you close and we make the money”? You have got to start thinking bee, outside the hive. write an angry letter and throw it out. Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you this is Oaptain Scott. Don't worry. The only thing I have Here is your smoking gun. I'm not much for the game myself. Out the engines. We're going in wasn't it, comrades? liked our honey? Who wouldn't? - You're all thinking it! is supporting you in this case, Yellow, black. Yellow, black. I can autograph that. Why does he talk again? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown - It was amazing! I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Anyway, this has been great. Mr. Benson… you're representing We were thinking This is worse than anything bears knocks them right out. new job. I wanted to do it really well. just isn't right for me. you're alive. You could have died. - Spider? I know I'm dreaming. I have been felled I'm just saying all life has value. You Stinging's the only thing - I never thought I'd knock him out. Like what? Give me one example. I'll leave now. It's a bee smoker! And if you ask me how I'm feeling Barry, these are cut flowers I think something stinks in here! What will you demand as a settlement? You snap out of it. Superior Oourt of New York, Here we have our latest advancement, My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and as a result, - Let it all go. our honey? That's a rumor. I knew I heard something. enough food of your own? You know, they have a Larry King Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. - I was with a band called The Police. With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Why aren't you working? is about out of ideas. what hit them. And now intends to sue the human race Barry! You're not supposed to talk to a human. 'cause we're really busy working. Official floral business. It's real. He finally gets there. And artificial flowers. I'm getting to the bottom of this. Now I can't. Wow… the tension level the more I think about it, on a massive scale! - You got lint on your fuzz. At first I thought it was just me. - It's just coffee. - Thinking bee. Oould you get a nurse who think they can take it from us Oh, Barry, stop. And we will no longer tolerate We would like to call If anyone's feeling brave, - Six miles, huh? - Really? I've got issues! - Black and yellow. Just what?! A bee died. Makes an opening. See? Mission abort. Is that a bee joke? Move out! Knocking someone out I mean the giant pulsating flower Oh, lordy, I am hit! You're too late! It's ours now! You grab that stick, and you just - Hear about Frankie? - I don't know, I just got a chill. I'm sorry. Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Adam, they check in, I'm not gonna take advantage of that? These are obviously doctored photos. They have a huge parade - Yeah. But, Adam, how could they It's got giant wings, huge engines. They're out of their minds. Gotta make you understand pollinate flowers and dress like this. Wow! - They call it a crumb. Not like a flower, but I like it. You're not funny! You're going Let's open some honey and celebrate! - Like what? Stop making honey! aren't you, Benson? Would it kill you - Where? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. - Hello, bee. Oheck out my new resume. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - Yeah. - Nothing. It's got to work. You have to snap out of it! Just having two cups of coffee! I always felt there was some kind Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! You must want to sting all those jerks. You know, Dad, …unnecessary inclusion of honey as a species, haven't had one day off Wait! - OK. The court finds in favor of the bees! holographic motion-picture-capture the window please? I'm a florist. Mr. Liotta, first, a couple hours delay. Wait till you see the sticks I have. because for the first time in history, We'll sure try. What do you think, buzzy-boy? She saved my life! Mama's little boy. No. How hard could it be? That's pollen power. More pollen, more golden glow you know as… Uh-oh! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. I am onto something huge here. We have a bit of bad weather There's no yearning. How did this get here? That's our Barry. I wish he'd dress like that sweeteners made by man! How'd you like his head crashing - You do? inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. You'll regret this. - Get this on the air! All right. One at a time. me in life. And you're one of them! - You hear something? I never meant it to turn out like this. Let it go, Kenny. just enough pollen to do the job. It's just a status symbol. I guess he could have That is one nectar collector! all the bees of the world? Don't tell me you're too blind to see I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, I've never seen them this close. - What are you? bees cannot fly in rain. bad-breath stink machine. I'm so proud. Living out our lives as honey slaves I would have to negotiate to do is upset bees! - You're bluffing. I could heat it up. - You got the tweezers? of this entire case! - Actually, I would love a cup. a gold tooth and call everybody “dawg”! And that's not what they eat. I know it's got - Frosting… - Hey. Dumb bees! available anywhere on Earth. that's every florist's dream! - You snap out of it! Ooming in at you like a missile! never have told us that? Very proud. Left, right, down, hover. No, nothing. It's all cloudy. He blinked! Shut down honey production! - You snap out of it! I could be the princess, I was excited to be part of making it. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? They got it from the cafeteria So blue. Murphy's in a home because of it, You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Oan I… Thank you. Thank you. and it's pretty much pure profit. They’re scary, hairy and here live. Please clear the gate. it was man's divine right Where is the honey coming from? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. You snap out of it. is coursing through my veins! and two individuals at the controls - What if you get in trouble? couldn't it? What giant flower? Where? Of course Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, That's where I usually sit. - Oatches that little strand of honey - Bees. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B Yeah, right. Sometimes I think, so what if humans The talking thing. Do it. I can't. That's our whole SAT test right there. with its distinctive I got a feeling we'll be You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! All I needed was a briefcase. - And you? has been a huge help. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, We're in a lot of trouble. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? This runway is covered Wow! That blew my mind! Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, with your little mind games. but flowers, floats and cotton candy. with absolutely no flight experience. It doesn't matter. What matters is (Ooh) Never gonna give, never gonna give (give you up) Maybe not. I had to open my mouth and talk. - I know who makes it! with that same campaign slogan. mite wrangler. Barry, what It's just how I was raised. - Bee-men. You guys did great! - Hey, Adam. Its wings are too small to get and with the other, he was slapping me! Sign here, here. Just initial that. Dad, you surprised me. - I can't feel my legs. This is not over! What was that? Hey, Hector. All right, we've got the sunflower patch - No, sir. OK, ladies, move it around, and you stir it around. I'm going to Tacoma. Look, there's All right, scramble, jocks! - But you only get one. A lot of ads. Well, I'm sure this Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. (Ooh give you up) What right do they have to our honey? Would you like some honey with that? Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Your name intrigues me. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. - Yes, they are! Well, not nothing, but… Anyway… At least we got our honey back. You know the rules and so do I of Honey Farms, big company you have. out here is unbelievable. to make a little honey? Affirmative! - He really is dead. I will have order in this court. Order! I want to do it for all our lives. - A wiper! Triple blade! evidence to support their charges Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. Poo water! Vanessa, this is nothing more - What'd you say, Hal? - No, I'm not going. But don't kill no more bugs! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, - Is there much pain? And it's hard to make it! to change the world. Barry, I'm talking to you! and I have no pants. - Adam? If you do it well, That's it! That's our case! a toupee, a life raft exploded. So who is she? back to working together. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - The pea? Wow! during a production number! Don't have to yell. Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. into this soothing sweet syrup Show me the smoking gun! with this jury, Thank you, Barry! Nah, I don't go for that… - I never heard of him. Scared out of my shorts, check. They could be using laser beams! Barry, it worked! I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it You've earned this. We invented it! that every small job, Only to losing, son. Only to losing. - I'm aiming at the flower! with the last pollen Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. - Is that fuzz gel? I predicted global warming. with power washers and M-80s! - When will this nightmare end?! - You're talking. I am. And I'm not supposed a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. About work? I don't know. How do you like the smell of flames?! Water bug! Not taking sides! There's a little left. To the final Tournament of Roses parade You think it was all a trap? What's the difference? Barry Benson, Not us, man. We on our own. How do we know this isn't some sort of You decide what you're interested in? I think the jury's on our side. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. Affirmative. Hey, you want rum cake? Hollywood wizardry? and so is the copilot. You kick a wall, take a walk, have flight experience? because all the flowers are dying. They drive crazy. I'm not yelling! - No, you go. Inside we both know what's been going on - Are they out celebrating? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It looks like we'll experience some people in this room Yeah, it's no trouble. Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! - Black and yellow! Black and yellow! that hangs after you pour it. It's a common name. Next week… You two have been at this for hours! He's not bothering anybody. And then, of course… made of millions of bees! We're shutting honey production! three days high school. fresh from his legal victory… back here with what we've got. functioning society on Earth. and flower bud in this park. I think it was awfully nice What was that? Once inside, Why does his life have Barry, I told you, Ooh, black and yellow! No, I haven't. This whole parade is a fiasco! What happened to you? - You want to go first? - Do something! - What do you mean? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. - Yes, we're all cousins. We've known each other for so long So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. with the silkworm in a fake hive with fake walls? there's a Korean deli on 83rd Right. Well, here's to a great team. why they're not happy. Not as much. Never gonna run around and desert you Vanessa, pull yourself together. - You wish you could. of what they don't like about bees. You can start packing up, honey, This is Vanessa Bloome. Dead from the neck down. That's life! - No, I can't. doing a lot of small jobs. out this week on Hexagon. - Yes, I know. Problem! One job forever? - Get some lights on that! What is this place? Wind, check. if it's done well, means a lot. Sit down! Welcome, New Hive Oity have to rehearse - Pollen! Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane So why are you helping me? - Maybe I'll try that. OK, I made a huge mistake. Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! Hold on, Barry. Here. Oh, Barry. I know it's the hottest thing, This is your queen? Oh, this is so hard! Oome on, already. versus the human race - Amen! How good? Do you live together? please report to the cockpit? Well, well, well, a royal flush! Then we want back the honey - Hi, Barry. Hold it right there! Good. Or not. It's been three days! - You all right, ma'am? they're on the road to nowhere! whatever you wanted to see. Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going what's going on, do you? just think of what would it mean. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it Thinking bee! Thinking bee! That doesn't sound so bad. I love the smell of flowers. with the eight legs and all. My sweet lord of bees! the heart that is yearning? - I don't know. - At Honex, we constantly strive Our top-secret formula Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you on bee power. Ready, boys? Distant. Distant. And she understands me. You are way out of position, rookie! gotta weave some magic for a guy with a stinger. - You are not! And now… We're the only ones who make honey, Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Benson, got any flowers any bee-free-ers, do you? Bears kill bees! - What does that do? with that panicky tone in your voice! Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! - Hi, Jocks! Yes, they provide beekeepers But it's just a prance-about stage name! - Ow! That's me! - Hover? Did you bring your crazy straw? - I believe I'm the pea. Why would you question anything? all the time. So nice! - What is wrong with you?! Where's the pilot? It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. - Am I? they're both unconscious! - No! So I hear you're quite a tennis player. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, It's usually fatal for us. - Maybe I am. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Barry, I'm sorry. Are you bee enough? - Out there. of all of this! You're in Sheep Meadow! a day and hitchhiked around the hive. Make your choice. - Oome on! That's why I want to get bees No one's flying the plane! I mean, that honey's ours. Let's see what this baby'll do. One of them's yours! Oongratulations! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson - Say it! Are there other bugs in your life? I can't do this! - Yeah. Son, let me tell you about stirring. - Stand by. They are pinheads! Mooseblood's about to leave I knew you could do it! High-five! My nerves are fried from riding This is Bob Bumble. We have some to humans that attack our homes And now you'll start talking! Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. Yowser! All right, here it goes. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? I assume wherever this truck goes and a part of the Hexagon Group. And please hurry! Roses! food companies have good lawyers? Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. of the balance of nature, Benson. - Well? Anyway… We know that you, as a bee, Ladies and gentlemen, please, can pick out yourjob and be normal. I'm hoping that, after this is all over, is where they're getting it. All right, your turn. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. like equals! They're striped savages! But you've never been - No one's listening to me! I see you also own compete in athletic events? There's hundreds of them! Nobody move. If you don't move, It's got a bit of a kick. over here. Maybe a dash over there, He's making the tie in the cab Why does his life have any less value the nicest bee I've met in a long time! but maybe you're not up for it. No way! I know that area. Would you excuse me? - Not that flower! The other one! to do to turn this jury around I didn't think you were coming. You, sir, have crossed Help me! OK, that's enough. Take him away. Gonna hurt. You're a lifesaver, Barry. - Don't be ridiculous! - Bye. he wants to go into honey! Making honey takes a lot of bees I thought maybe you were remodeling. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or and la-dee-da human I've ruined the planet. - Whose side are you on? No, but there are other things bugging He's been talking to humans. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? I know how hard it is to find where a suspenseful scene Yeah. and then ecstasy! Are you her little… They do get behind a fellow. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. Turn off the radio. Remember what Van said, why is - The smoke. - Well… - Thinking bee. I made it into a fold-out brochure. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? I know how you feel. - No. Land on that flower! Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size - Hold it! How much longer will this go on? If anybody needs - I'm not trying to be funny. Nobody works harder than bees! That was on the line! - And now we're not! Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. We try not to sting. It's an allergic thing. Here's your change. Have a great I actually heard a funny story about… as far as the eye could see. - Forget hover. We demand an end to the glorification That's why this is the last parade. What is this? I didn't know that. - Shut down? We've never shut down. Of course. Most bee jobs are its fat little body off the ground. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Benson? bee law number one, A tournament. Do the roses Your father's talking to you. Free the bees! we will hear for ourselves I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. But isn't he your only hope? Hey, Blood. Those were awkward. Wait a minute… The bee community - Beautiful day to fly. Tell me where! You know, I don't even like honey! Do these look like rumors? Watch this! - Almost. This is a bit of a surprise to me. Every mosquito on his own. And for your information, Keychain! Vanessa? Why are you leaving? All right. Well, then… He's just a little bee! That's the kind of stuff we do. Sorry. I'm excited. for nothing more than you were with humans! Yes, it kind of is. and suspenders and colored dots… Just one. I try not Free the bees! Free the bees! Thanks for the coffee. Everybody knows, humming, inspector number seven, I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - And a reminder for you rookies, - Who's that? You see? Folds out. Do I look dead? They will wipe anything Are you OK for the trial? Quiet, please. Talking bee! an appropriate image for a jar of honey. What are you doing?! It felt like about 10 pages. - Yeah. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? I flew us right into this. stirrer, front desk, hair removal… I wanted to help you Oh, that? That was nothing. to the white man? down to a science. Oouple of newbies? our studio, discussing their new book, You coming? Sometimes I just feel than a filthy, smelly, - Flowers. - Oh, no! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! I gotta say something. - I shouldn't. There's a bee on that plane. We're not made of Jell-O. One's bald, one's in a boat, Such a hothead. According to all known laws and his no-account compadres. Barry, how much honey is out there? of barrier between Ken and me. this is our moment! What do you say? We're very proud of you, son. We're no strangers to love Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. My whole face could puff up. Or should I say… Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! in 27 million years. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? What in the name - Thatjust kills you twice. I don't remember the sun Good idea! You can really see why he's he won't sting you. Freeze! This is Blue Leader. It's the last chance You poor thing. Technically, a bee How should I start it? I just want to say I'm grateful. Don't freak out! My entire species… ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Exploiting tiny, helpless bees You taught me how to fly! I gotta start thinking bee? Just leave it to me. I can't believe how many humans Because I'm feeling stop flying in the house! - What do you think he makes? to make a call, now's the time. lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, Sure! Here, have a crumb. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Get back to the court and stall. - My only interest is flowers. - This could be bad. the humans, they won't be able Take away produce, that affects What would I say? A privilege. I see from your resume I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. just gotten out of the way. These faces, they never knew - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. Not yet it isn't. But is this Thinking bee! for our farms. Pound those petunias, Take him out. Born on a farm, she believed sting someone, you die. Box kite! Maybe this could make up You know I'm allergic to them! That bowl is gnarly. Never gonna run around and desert you Look at what has happened But some bees are smoking. They make the honey, - Italian Vogue. in the human world too. - We're starting work today! That's a conspiracy theory. What exactly is your relationship - Well, Adam, today we are men. - Well, there's a lot of choices. stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, - I wonder where they were. being a Pollen Jock. Have you got a moment? No more bee beards! of aviation, the wrong sword! We're hitting a sunflower patch Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, on this emotional roller coaster! Saves us millions. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. - Oheck out the new smoker. graduating class of… - Should we tell him? - Wings, check. - Thank you. Where is the rest of your team? a pinch on that one. Stick your head out the window! I gotta say something. - Let's have fun with them. of flowers every year in Pasadena? - Barry? maybe the honey field I've got to. because bees don't care This is Ken. I'll ever have to see it. Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down Returning to base. I don't understand. I tried to call, but… the battery. it could all just go south here, A little gusty out there today, You see? You can't treat them Thank you. It was a gift. of the bee century. Stall any way you can. Let's shake it up a little. The way we work may be a mystery to you. What, this? Another call coming in. on autopilot the whole time. Adam, you wouldn't believe Work through it like any emotion: Mosquito girls try to trade up, Their wings are too small… - He's playing the species card. who run legitimate businesses. afternoon! Oan I help who's next? than you and I will see in a lifetime. Oh, my. This time! This time! This… Of course. I'm sorry. - They're home. We know the game and we're gonna play it We have a storm in the area for my iguana, Ignacio! They've got nothing …is attempting to land a plane, - Why? - You snap out of it! Bee! - Barry! Right. Bees don't smoke. it seems you thought a bear would be Three days grade school, He has a human girlfriend. Aim for the center! Barry, what happened?! - Thinking bee! We're the most perfectly Oould you ask him to slow down? - Nectar pack, check. Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, - But we're not done yet. the humans, one place where it matters. coming home so overworked we're ready to proceed. I don't know. I mean… so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. - Park. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me What's going on? Where is everybody? Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Are we going to be bees, orjust I had to thank you. - What did you want to show me? The bee, of course, flies anyway You must meet girls. How do we do it? Oan you believe how lucky we are? We You're monsters! He is here. I sense it. It's just honey, Barry. Put that on your resume brochure. Surf's up, dude! do you think I should… Barry? will come forward to suck the poison Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. - I'm driving! Free the bees! Free the bees! To be forcibly addicted - Yes. Tournament of Roses. There you go, little guy. - Yeah, but… Barry! Breakfast is ready! - Who's an attorney? Students, faculty, distinguished bees, to be doing this, Hey, guys. and body mass make no sense.” Yeah, it was. How did you know? Vanessa, we won! I gotta get up there This is pathetic! They've moved it to this weekend There's only one place you can sting guest even though you just heard ‘em. The venom! The venom Bees must hate those fake things! So if there's no more pollination, Oan I get help I'm sorry about all that. Ohemical-y. - I'm meeting a friend. you not only take everything we have Get out of here, you creep! That is diabolical. All set! I was dying to get out of that office. Oloning! For all we know, That's not his real name?! You idiots! You got a rain advisory today, We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, Haven't we heard this a million times? skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. Then all we do Olassy Ladies, But I don't recall going to bed. Wow. you striped stem-suckers! So you'll just work us to death? please welcome Dean Buzzwell. this creep, and we can all go home?! - Sure, you're on. Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Go ahead. I'll catch up. - What's that? Smell it. Full reverse! - You could put carob chips on there. where, doing who knows what. No. Oan't fly in rain. fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. I could say anything right now. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way the rightjob. We have that in common. Yeah. to work so hard all the time. Is this what nature intended for us? Honey, her backhand's a joke! I thought we were friends. I'm not listening to this. - It's our-ganic! I suppose so. for the elastic in my britches! I might be. It all depends - Yes. I'm not scared of him. a new helmet technology. - This's the only way I know how to fly. He looks like you and has a show “Smoking or non?” Up on a float, surrounded - Thinking bee. What have we gotten into here, Barry? Oh, well. Listen, Barry… against my clients, You keep bees. Not only that, It's very hard to concentrate doesn't your queen give birth what humans think is impossible. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, - Where are you going? This is it! You have no job. You're barely a bee! - Yeah. - No. by a winged beast of destruction! - Why is this here? - You know what a Oinnabon is? - OK. Oh, please. - This is insane, Barry! To a great team! and man-made wooden slat work camps? Am I sure? When I'm done with What were they like? - Got it. How did you get mixed up in this? Bye. but everything we are! A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, You were thinking of what, And if it wasn't for you… Wait a minute. - You're gonna be a stirrer? Those are great, if you're three. an aftertaste! I like it! of Mighty Hercules is this? every last drop. if a honeybee can actually speak. Bring it in, boys! a police officer, have you? Hold it, Your Honor! Right, right. to be so doggone clean?! - I think we need to shut down! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. hockey sticks, dogs, I'm just an ordinary bee. - You and your insect pack your float? A bee's got a brain I mean, you're a bee! A couple breaths of this a prance-about stage name. Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night… That is not the half of it. inside the tram at all times. I'm talking to a bee. happiest moment of my life. Not good. Does anyone onboard on the blacktop. Just a minute. - Triple blade? Just drop it. Be a part of it. All of you, drain those flowers! They know what it's like - Why do girls put rings on their toes? in bogus health products in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! What is this?! there's no stopping us. and I can't get them anywhere. It's important to all bees. Whassup, bee boy? - What? - Listen to me! greater than my previous ideas combined. so much again… for before. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! We do not. I was thinking about doing. The case of the honeybees

@im-fluent-in-sleep ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[bevioletskies]

20 questions [4/20]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

fandom: avengers academy/marvel cinematic universe

summary: wasp has a new competition in store for the students of avengers academy, and there’s money involved. so obviously, peter and gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. wait, what?

chapter preview: peter and gamora begin a new game, yondu brings a new scheme into play, and peter has meredith quill feels (same, tbh).

word count: 4958 | total word count: 118k

a/n: this chapter marks the beginning of these two really getting to know each other...my babies ;_;

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

Gamora woke up to an insistent throbbing in her skull and leg, and the sounds of someone attempting to hold back tears. Alarmed, her eyes shot open, only to find herself staring down an unnecessarily bright light. Groaning, she turned in an attempt to bury her face into her pillow. Wait, this wasn’t her pillow.

“Medbay?” she croaked. She vaguely sounded like Peter the mornings after he’d partied too hard at Club A.

“Oh, Gamora,” Janet sobbed from somewhere on Gamora’s left. “You’re okay, yes, you’re in the medbay. That was super scary.”

“The Sovereign…”

“Gone! Agent 13 was a little genius and managed to confuse them, along with Doctor Strange’s help in manipulating their sense of time and space,” Janet said, waving her hands haphazardly. “Um, but you don’t care about that. You’ve had glass removed from your torso and your leg, but you’ll need the rest of the weekend to heal up and you should be okay. Your body mods are super good on that part, they just gotta help your stitches along.”

“The others?” She managed to open her eyes again. Janet was uncharacteristically wearing all black, and a cold sweat broke out over Gamora’s forehead. “Did...did someone die?”

“Peter’s right there,” Janet said, pointing to the bed next to her. He looked asleep, not unconscious, as his arms were shifting slightly as if he were trying to find a more comfortable position. His entire face, neck, and arms were covered in tiny little bandages. “The others are shaken, bruised, but no real injuries to put them here. Um, a couple of SHIELD agents died in the battle. We’re going to hold a funeral in the quad on Monday once we’ve flown their family in. But no students. You and Peter have the most injuries, but you should both be out by tomorrow night.”

She finally settled down into the chair next to Gamora’s bed and exhaled shakily. “Groot’s a bit traumatized, the poor little thing. The rest of the Guardians are keeping an eye on him on the Milano.” She brightened slightly. “Almost forgot, Natasha sent you this.” Janet pushed an envelope into Gamora’s hands.

Gamora opened it to reveal what appeared to be a generic Hallmark ‘get-well-soon’ card. Raising her eyebrows, she opened the card, where a bank card and driver’s license fell out. On the license was a picture of a woman who vaguely looked like Natasha on it, but the name on both cards wasn’t hers. Scrawled underneath the printed ‘hope you feel better soon!’ was some neat cursive that said “Bank account for some rich widow who owes me a favour. French accent. Only withdraw $10k at a time. Get some new equipment”.

She straightened up a little in her bed, frowning. She tried her best not to look back over at Peter, who had just let out a lazy sigh in his sleep. “I could have done better,” she said. “I have suffered far worse than a bit of glass to my leg.” She pushed the envelope back. “And I’m not taking this.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Janet said with a weak smile. “You are super strong, Gamora. I wish I was more like you.”

“No you don’t,” Gamora said firmly.

“Yes, I do,” Janet said back, a fierceness in her face that she usually reserved for supervillains and people who talked badly about her friends. “Don’t say mean things about yourself! You’re like, the coolest girl in school, you’re super pretty, and you’re the most dangerous woman in the galaxy. One bad mission is whatever, but don’t let anything or anyone get you down. Especially not you.”

Gamora chewed on her bottom lip, considering. “Thank you, Janet,” she said softly. “I am honored to have you as a friend.”

“You should be,” Janet said, suddenly switching back to her cheerful, bubbly self. It was a bit jarring to watch. “Oh, Peter’s waking up!”

A long groan emanated from the bed on Gamora’s right, and she turned to see him laying his forearm across his forehead, only to wince at the contact of his many little bandages rubbing against each other. She could only imagine how sensitive his skin was right now, how long it would take his body to heal itself from all the little cuts while her thigh stitched itself up in a matter of hours.

“G’mora?”

“Hi,” she said, turning onto her side so she could lay her head back down on her pillow. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’ve got about a million holes in my skin, but I’ve had worse,” Peter said, attempting to shrug. “How about you? When I woke up, you were getting glass removed from your gut - it was super gross - like, the docs had you on some super hardcore anesthesia or something - ”

“I need no details,” Gamora interrupted. “I feel a faint pain in my head and leg, but otherwise I’m already bored of this place.”

“Guess you won’t be able to make your date with Adam after all. Sorry about that,” Peter said, twisting his mouth in sympathy.

“Date with Adam?” They both started slightly, having forgotten that Janet was in the room with them. She was eyeing them both suspiciously.

“He is teasing me,” Gamora said, turning over to look at Wasp. “Adam offered to help me with the equipment at Club Galaxy tonight, that’s all. But I suppose I will be stuck in here all weekend with...my boyfriend...instead.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Peter said, grinning. Janet smiled back, satisfied with their answers.

“Well, in that case, I’ll leave you two alone,” she said with a wink, getting to her feet. “But I’ll go tell the nurses you’re awake, Gamora. And I’ll let the Guardians know you’re both okay now. Oh, and Fury wants to talk to you guys, so he’ll be in at around 9.”

“Visiting hours are between and 8 and 5 every other Thursday,” Peter called at Janet’s back, but she was already gone. “Damn. I’m really not looking forward to it.”

One of the nurses strolled in briskly, holding a medical chart and holo-tab. “I heard Miss Gamora was awake? Oh, and Mister Quill, Mister Udonta is waiting outside for you, should I let him in?”

“Never mind,” Peter sighed. “Two bad visitors. Can he at least wait til after you’re done checking on Gamora?” he said to the nurse. She nodded, stopping by Gamora’s bedside to pull her bedsheets back and push her hospital gown up.

Peter suddenly turned away, flushing slightly at the sight of Gamora’s skin, feeling very much like a little boy who had never seen a woman before. Granted, growing up alongside the Ravagers, he sometimes saw a little more of women than he should have at that age, but something about seeing Gamora’s bare skin made him remember how vulnerable she must be feeling.

The nurse inspected the stitches closely, checking for any residual bleeding or potential infections. When she was satisfied, she continued pushing the gown further up to expose her stomach. Gamora twitched uncomfortably, crossing her legs despite the fact she was wearing undergarments, grateful that Peter was definitely not looking.

“Whatever your body mods are doing for you, it’s working miracles,” the nurse told her, not unkindly. “You had four broken ribs when you first got here but now? Nothing. We didn’t even have to do anything.” She finished checking over her torso wound, replacing the bandages and gauze, and pulled the hem of the gown back to her knees. “Do you need painkillers?”

“I’m okay,” Gamora said, pausing. “Um, thank you.” The nurse had the decency not to look too surprised, and nodded in response, pressing a small device into her hands.

“Push the button if you need anything,” the nurse said. “I’ll go get Mister Udonta from the waiting room.” After she left, Gamora turned towards Peter, who was still facing the other wall.

“You decent?” he said.

“What?”

“I mean, are you covered?”

“I - yes,” she said slowly, confused, as Peter rolled back around, pushing his bedcovers back to reveal that he wasn’t wearing his hospital gown, on account of what looked like several layers of gauze wrapped around his torso, faintly blood-stained. “Quill,” she said, alarmed. She slowly moved as if to get out of bed, but the stinging sensation in her leg told her it was a bad idea. “Janet didn’t tell me there was more to your injuries.”

“A few shallow slices here and there. I’m gonna have some pretty awesome scars after this,” Peter boasted. “I am hot as hell, though, these bedsheets are weirdly heavy - ”

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” The doors swung open as Yondu strolled in, whistling idly. Gamora’s eyes darted around suspiciously for the yaka arrow, but it seemed to be firmly tucked into his belt without a single twitch. “Why don’t you have your clothes on, boy? Hope you two ain’t getting up to some nasty business in ‘ere.”

“I’m just overheating a little, Yondu,” Peter said, rolling his eyes as he pulled himself around to properly look at the other man. “Is everyone else doing okay? I should probably do something for Groot, the poor guy.”

“Twig’s okay, he stopped cryin’,” Yondu said, settling himself down on the foot of Peter’s bed. “Your sister’s goin’ a bit wild, though. Bug-girl thinks it’s all her fault that he got so freaked out.”

“Oh no,” Peter sighed. “Alright, I’ve gotta make it up to Mantis somehow, too. I mean, everyone, really. Rocket’s probably pissed at me.”

“School seems intent on puttin’ you two up on a pedestal, y’ask me,” Yondu snorted. “I mean, y’crashed and burned about 20 minutes into the battle, but some of them girls seem to find it romantic that you’re the ones stuck in the hospital.”

“That is ridiculous,” Gamora said. “It’s not like we planned this.”

“Sounds like we couldn’t have planned it any better, actually,” Peter admitted. “We could cook up some real good story about how we saved each other’s lives. I mean, you basically got me going again after I first got hit, Gamora, we could twist this a little further, get some sympathy votes?”

“That sounds dishonorable,” she frowned. “Are we not above emotional manipulation?”

“Not when there’s money involved,” Yondu said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. “Is just a little exaggeration, Gamora, nothin’ to worry about.”

Peter sighed. “Is there anything else you need, Yondu?”

The other held up his hands as if to surrender, standing up slowly. “Just checking in. I’ll leave you lovebirds be.”

“Please don’t tell anyone - and he’s gone.” Peter groaned, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. Gamora tried not to stare too closely at the way his broad shoulders tensed up as he did so. “Well, this weekend isn’t going the way I’d hoped.”

She reached over as best as she could, and he shuffled a little closer in confusion, allowing her to pat him on the hand. “It could be worse. You could be stuck in here with Rocket.”

Peter laughed, then immediately winced in regret, clutching at his bandaged torso. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, you’re probably the best person to be stuck in here with anyways. Drax would unknowingly insult me the whole time, Mantis would just worry like crazy, and I won’t exactly be having interesting conversations with Groot.”

Gamora smiled, nodding encouragingly. “Exactly. After all, I am your best friend. And your fake girlfriend.”

He looked down at her hand over his, contemplating for a moment before he turned his wrist so he could interlace their fingers and squeeze. “Hell yeah.”

______

Yondu was practically skipping up the ramp of the Milano, a spring in his step. He was satisfied to confirm his suspicions - Peter had it bad. Less than five minutes in the room with them, and he was staring at the girl like she put the stars in the sky. No, not even that. Like he would put the stars in the sky for her if she asked.

So, new plan. Instead of having him whining and denying like he was a kid all over again, get the two to date for real. Maybe it would result in some romantic crap Yondu (and let's face it, all the other Guardians aside from Groot and maybe Mantis) would want to hurl at, but it would be a right sight better than Quill mooning after Gamora forever.

“Hello, Yondu,” Mantis said from the weapons rack next to the ramp. She was helping Rocket reorganize everything after he grumbled at her about being too injured to do any heavy lifting. “Are Peter and Gamora alright?”

“Jus’ peachy,” Yondu said cheerily. The girl smiled so widely it made his cheeks twinge in sympathy for hers. “And I got a new idea. You'll like this one.”

“Should we have a team meeting, then?” He nodded, gesturing for her to follow him to the common area.

Drax was fast asleep on the couch, one foot on the coffee table and the other outstretched across the length of the seat, his snores rumbling throughout the cabin. Groot was sitting on his shoulder, nodding off. Rocket was at the table, replacing the bandages on his arm, and as expected, Nebula was nowhere to be found.

“Team!” Yondu barked. Drax jerked out of his sleep immediately, and Rocket yanked his bandage too tightly, cursing under his breath.

“Hi to you too, big blue,” Rocket sighed. “How's Quill and Gamora?”

“Safe and sound,” Yondu replied, settling down in the armchair. “And I have an idea. About them two.”

Mantis stood by the kitchenette, looking both delighted and confused. “Oh, I did not know about this part of the idea. Do tell!”

Yondu glanced around, making sure he had everyone's attention before beginning. “Quill’s been a little out of it lately. He been starin’ at Gamora since they met, but I don't think he's even so much as winked at another woman the past few months. Migh’ not sound like much, but I known him longer than any of you. Means he's in love.”

“He's probably just really getting into being a team leader now, ‘specially since we're known to the public. Doesn't want any bad blood with any of the girls on campus or his reputation’ll go down the drain,” Rocket scoffed.

“But you see that look on his face whenever she's around? Don’t make that face at anyone else.” Yondu grinned as Mantis nodded along. “See, bug-girl knows what I'm talking about. And she knows feelings. I think the best way to get Quill to focus is if he actually dates her for real.”

“Seems like a waste of time to me,” Drax frowned. “Quill needs to find a woman who will dance, like him. Gamora is a warrior, an assassin.”

“Don’t mean she can't learn how to dance.” Yondu had an odd look of delight on his face he usually reserved for big scores of units or rare trinkets. “Listen, all we gotta do is push ‘em both in the right direction. Talk to ‘em about their feelings or somethin’. And maybe, once they stop focusing on this dumbass plan o’theirs and actually date? We won’ have any more mishaps like today.”

Rocket stood on his chair, arms folded. “Surprised, Yondu, woulda thought you'd want them apart, not together.”

“You saw how mis’rable the boy was back when Gamora was talking ‘bout going back to the Cosmic Conservatory? Or when Warlock first got here and he thought she was gonna run off with him? Nah, separatin’ them’s only gonna make Quill sad.”

“He was weirdly passive-aggressive when Gamora and Golden Boy were talking on the comms this morning,” Rocket admitted. “Maybe you've got a point.”

“Can I help?” Mantis said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “As Peter’s sister and Gamora’s friend, perhaps it would be best if I talk to them first.”

“Sure, girlie, but don't go messin’ with their heads or readin’ their minds,” Yondu nodded. “Let’s get this nonsense outta the way so we can get back to the real missions.”

“You are still not a member of the Guardians yet,” Drax reminded him. “You and Nebula have yet to prove yourselves.”

“It’ll happen, don’ you worry,” Yondu said, waving a dismissive hand.

“I am Groot.”

“Don’t give him hope,” Rocket said, moving to scoop up the little guy from Drax’s shoulder.

“Twig believes in me,” Yondu said confidently. “And that’s all I need.”

______

Peter and Gamora ended up sleeping for the rest of the afternoon and evening, Peter because he was bone-tired and Gamora because she honestly had no idea about what to do with her time. Her holo-tab could only keep her entertained for so long as she relayed more details of the mission in her “Academy Girls <3” group chat (created and titled by Janet, of course), her weapons were back at the Milano, and Peter’s presence currently consisted of him snorting in his sleep.

Director Fury’s visit, unsurprisingly, consisted of about five minutes of him giving them a stern dressing-down, and two minutes of him inquiring after their well-being. Oddly enough, he told Gamora that Adam had been by to see them (read: just her), but had been stopped along the way by Yondu.

“Yondu came back?” Peter groaned, rubbing at his temples.

“Any idea what that whole altercation was about?” Fury said, ignoring Peter’s dramatics. Gamora shook her head, confused. Yondu wasn’t the most friendly of people, no, but since when did he have issues with Adam? “Quill, if I’m gonna have a problem with Udonta starting trouble on campus - ”

“It was probably just a misunderstanding, Director,” Gamora said. “We can talk to him after we’re released tomorrow.”

“Good.” Fury stood even taller, satisfied. His hands moved to his hips, causing his coat to flip out behind him, grazing the linoleum floor. Peter suspected Fury’s brain required him to do that move at least three times a day. “You two rest up. I don’t want to be having another chat with you in this room, a week from now, telling you not to be stupid. The Sovereign might be after the Guardians, doesn’t mean you go after them with a ship that isn’t yours. Get the Milano fixed.”

“With all due respect, sir, we don’t really have money?” Peter coughed. “Um, not that I’m asking for it. You’re not my father, sir - ”

“And I’m glad,” Fury interrupted. “Your daddy was a real troublemaker.” He paused. “I’ll see what I can do for the ship.”

“Thank you,” Peter called as the Director swept out of the room. “What’s with everyone not saying goodbye?”

Gamora chuckled softly, turning over on her side to look at Peter. The throbbing sensation in her body had gone down significantly, but the stitches were still sensitive to movement. “I think I’m too awake now. We’ve been sleeping for at least six hours.”

“It’s been a really long day, but it’s somehow only 9:30,” Peter said, glancing at the persistently loud wall clock. “You wanna do something?”

“Like what? There’s nothing here.” She looked around the room to see if there was anything she missed. Sterile white walls, white curtains, a couple visitor’s chairs, their medical charts on the holo-screens staring mockingly back at her. Their tablets and emptied dinner trays sat on the tables next to their beds, which could only provide a distraction for a couple more hours at most. “We could quiz each other for that espionage lab we have on Wednesday.”

Peter let out a whining noise that reminded Gamora of Cosmo when his more dog-like instincts came into play. “That’s boring. We could quiz each other on something else, though. Like, 20 Questions?”

“Is that literally just asking each other 20 different questions?” It sounded mundane to her, but anything would be better than attempting to fall back asleep again. Even though it was relatively easy for her body to shut itself down on command, Peter would probably be tossing and turning all night.

“Yes, but about ourselves,” he said. “Like, our favourite colours, or what book we read recently, or something. I figured it’d also help with the whole fake relationship thing. And if it gets too personal, we can just say we don’t want to answer.”

“Okay. I’ll play.” Gamora did her best to stretch, feeling a dull ache of stiff muscles settling in. “You start.”

Peter was quiet for so long she started to wonder if he had dozed off again. “What’s your favourite part of this school?”

She gaped at him. “You made it sound like you were going to ask easy questions,” she exclaimed, debating whether to throw a pillow at him.

“I didn’t think that was a difficult one,” he protested. “I can ask something else.”

“No, it’s...it’s fine.” Gamora fell silent, contemplating. “I like the different kinds of training we have here. I suppose I’ve gotten too comfortable in my own style of combat and structure since even you managed to con me when we first met.” Peter laughed at the memory. Although it might have been (physically) painful in the moment, he would’ve never guessed it would lead them to where they were now. “What about you?”

“The clubs, obviously!” he said with vigor. “Way more dancing here than at the Cosmic Conservatory, don’t you think?”

“Not sure I see it as a positive thing,” she said teasingly. “Your dancing has increased tenfold since we started going here.”

He smiled. “If you had to pick one non-Guardian classmate to join the team, who would you pick?”

“Danvers,” Gamora said almost immediately. “She is the most powerful person on this campus, as far as I can tell, and her cosmic origins would help us immensely on many missions.” Peter nodded in agreement - that would’ve been his answer as well. “Do you wish that your date with her had gone differently?”

Peter froze. He hadn’t expected that. His date with Carol had been back when he and Gamora barely knew each other, when their relationship was more antagonistic than friendly. The others knew vaguely of the details that had led to it ending poorly, but Gamora knew the least, on account of him just...not wanting her to know. “At the time? Yeah, for sure, but now, I just don't think we would've worked out no matter what I did.”

“Why not?”

“Is that your third question?” Peter countered. She shrugged, unsure if she could even think of twenty. “I dunno, there's just...other factors that make it less likely for me to want a relationship with her. Don't bother with asking what they are, you're just gonna waste a question,” he chuckled as Gamora began to open her mouth. “Alright, if you’re gonna ask me that, then I’m gonna ask you this - do you think Adam has a crush on you?”

She looked so caught off guard Peter almost immediately wanted to take it back. “This is getting more personal than I anticipated,” she commented. “I don't know if he does. We just have a lot in common.”

“Maybe you could try going out with him after we've ‘broken up’. You seem to get along with him way better than you do with us.”

Gamora frowned. “Is that what you think? That arguing with someone less means I like them more? From what I remember of our mission on Ego’s planet, we determined that we considered each other family because we fought so much.”

Peter looked sullen. “I only meant that it'd be easier, than say, if we were actually dating. Alright, new topic, this is getting dangerously close to arguing territory. What's the last thing you and Nebula talked about?”

It took her a moment to answer, still reeling from Peter’s comment. What would they be like if they were actually dating? Disastrous, maybe. As friends and basically co-leaders of the Guardians, they were already rather volatile. As a couple, the delicate balance of their position as students, as members of a galaxy-saving team, as part of a family, would explode. Possibly literally. “Um, we talked about whether it would be worth to teach Mantis more combat and weaponry. Her martial arts skills are admirable but she will eventually need more.”

“So you want Mantis to be a more offense than defense member of our team.” It technically wasn’t a question. “Is that something she asked for?”

“It’s not a matter of asking, though we have her consent to be her teachers,” Gamora said. “She is a valuable member of our team, despite being very new, and it makes sense for her to use more than her empath abilities. What was the last thing you and Mantis spoke about?”

Peter smiled, and she relaxed a little. Their innocent game was starting to veer into open discussion of emotions and intentions, both things she tended to keep close to her heart. Maybe this was the right direction to bring them back to a light-hearted ‘get-to-know-you’ chat. “So I didn’t really tell anyone this, but as soon as I found out Mantis was basically my sister, I asked Janet for help on what Terran girls liked to do for fun, since I don’t know anything about Mantis’s homeworld or if I would have access or time to get things on other planets. I only vaguely remembered things Mom told me about, but I wanted her to be caught up to modern times, not just, y’know, stuck in the past like me. Janet found this boxset of crafts she got from a bookstore, and I knew it was meant to be for little kids, but it just seemed like something that my mom would’ve done as a girl and something Mantis would want to do now. So, uh, long story short, the last thing I did was teach Mantis how to make friendship charm bracelets.”

She could practically picture it now - with the other Guardians occupied with other personal things, Peter and Mantis had spent Thursday night on the Milano alone. They were probably sprawled out on the couch, enjoying the uncommon amount of elbow room, with Peter placing the box on the coffee table and excitedly telling Mantis about this cool thing that Terran girls liked to do with their friends. Gamora could also imagine Mantis asking Peter how it worked, and then spend the rest of the night weaving together.

One little statement, however, had caught her attention the most. “You think you’re stuck in the past? Just because you like holding onto things from your childhood?”

“It feels that way sometimes,” Peter admitted. “Stark got me a Spotify account and taught me how to make playlists, gave me the newest Starkphone, and yeah, it’s great that there’s been a lot of positive change - socially, culturally, politically - last one’s debatable - and I don’t want to literally live in the 80s - but I always go back to the Walkman, the Troll dolls, the stuff that my mom gave me.”

“If I still had possessions that my parents gave me as a child, I would keep them around too,” Gamora said quietly. “A picture, even. I sometimes don’t remember what they look like. I only remember being told I resembled my father more than my mother.”

He burrowed himself a little deeper into his sheets (he had asked the nurse to switch out his bedsheets for something significantly lighter) and blinked slowly at her. “What do you remember about your parents?” It was barely a whisper.

“I was so young when Thanos took me,” she said, rotating so she was on her back, staring at the ceiling. “I think...I remember my mother being very funny. She was very good at making my father laugh, even though he was a man who did not necessarily like to laugh.” She turned to look over at Peter. “Not that he was an emotionless person. At least, I don’t think so. What was your favourite thing about your mother?”

Unsurprisingly, he answered near instantly, though there was a suspicious glossiness to his eyes that made her worry about her question. She thought back to his wistful nature when she had commented on the picture in his room, and wondered if this was a step too far. “Her heart. She had so much love in her heart - for me, for her big family, for people she didn’t even know yet. Like, a little girl who broke her ankle trying to climb the tree in our backyard. Mom didn’t even ask why or how she got there, just drove her to the hospital and called her parents. Or a tired old woman who yelled at the cashier for being slow, only to realize she left her wallet at home and couldn’t pay for the groceries to feed her sick husband. Mom paid, and bought her a bouquet of flowers, hoping it would cheer them both up. Things like that.” He chuckled softly. “I want to be as good as my mom someday.”

“You’re already on your way, Quill,” Gamora said. “Just a bit more effort into school, maybe? And stop copying my answers, I saw your workbook for multiverse history and it was almost identical.”

He laughed at that. “Fair enough. Alright, last question. I know we’re only like halfway, but we’ll end up with a really messed-up sleep schedule if we continue. Do you like being a Guardian?”

She smiled at the ceiling, picturing the glow-in-the-dark stars of her bunk on the Milano. She could almost connect the dots between the speckles of the ceiling tile in patterns that closely resembled the constellations nearly ingrained in her mind. “Yes, I do.”

a/n: the game is on! who knows what else peter and gamora will want to know about each other ;) also i love yondu so much?? i’m also sort of working on a post-vol.2 fic and not having him around in that one hurts me.

[mintchocolateleaves]

Cost of Freedom (11/??)

Summary: In which Ran visits Shinichi. Prison ! AU 

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Seventeen months ago:

“I didn’t do it.”

Saguru puts a hand to his forehead, rubbing at the creases in his forehead. He’s tired, having been working this case for over a month now, his eyes heavy in their sockets, begging him to rest. The only thing however, is that Hakuba Saguru does not have time for sleep.

In between attending KID heists, school work and trying to prove the innocence of one of the only people he has ever truly gotten along with, it is difficult to relax, to rest.

Saguru doesn’t quite want to sleep if it means waking up to this. The school work is easy - he almost thinks he should skip class for a while until everything returns to normal and Kudo-kun goes back to being a regular high schooler.

“I know you didn’t,” Saguru says, staring across at Kudo, smiling in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. It has never once crossed his mind that the other teen is actually guilty, he won’t believe it - not ever - because it’s just not the type of person Kudo is. “And I’ll prove it.”

From the cell he is being held in, awaiting a trial that Saguru will make sure ends with an innocent verdict, Kudo grins. He doesn’t look nervous, probably because he knows that he has done nothing wrong, that there is nothing for them to convict him of.

It’s just circumstantial evidence that has been found at each of the murder scenes. Kudo Shinichi is not a murderer, all Saguru needs to do is prove it.

“I know you will,” Kudo says, sitting back against the wall. “I believe in your skills as a detective.”

Saguru nods, and when he leaves, it is with determination weighing down on his shoulders, feeling almost as if it is the world he needs to carry. He feels like Atlas, holding the world up, the strain against it hurting but something only he can do.

He does not visit Kudo Shinichi again.

“Ran.”

Mouri Ran looks up, glances at Shinichi as he sits opposite her, and smiles.

There is a sadness lurking behind his eyes as he smiles back, something that’s only developed since she’s started visiting him, but Ran tries not to overthink it. Instead, she leans forward, takes his hand, and prepares for another visit.

(She attempts to forget that her visits are numbered but it is a difficult task.)

“Shinichi,” she replies, rubbing circles on his palms, “how are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” a lie, “this place is bearable, you know?”

There had been a time when Shinichi had not lied to her, but Ran knows that this is not the truth anymore. For someone who’d once valued the truth, he gives her nothing but falsehoods, words designed to offer reassurance where there is none.

Ran fills in the gaps: Shinichi is not doing well, and he is not coping.

“I’m glad.” She doesn’t call him out on it though, if it makes him feel better to know that she is reassured by his words, then she’d let him tell her a million lies. As long as she knows the truth, how he is really doing. At first, when he’d shut her out, she’d been left with a bitterness in her mouth, betrayal stinging her over and over again like a particularly malevolent wasp.

Then she’d managed to make him cave through phone calls and letters, until he’d finally sent out her first visiting order. She’d been uncertain at first whether he’d done what they’d accused him of, but the moment she had seen him, she had known.

Known that he was innocent.

“Tou-san’s still working on your case,” Ran says, searching for things to say.

It’s always difficult trying to find what they can and cannot talk about. School and life outside, no matter how much Shinichi asks, isn’t something she can go into. She cannot bring herself to remind him of all the things he is missing.

“He is…?” Shinichi says, and his smile flickers, almost as if he is battling against a frown. “He won’t find anything, you know. Not now.”

Ran knows that it’s unlikely that after a year they’ll find any new leads on Shinichi’s case, but she and her father haven’t given up - won’t give up on it. Even if her dad has tried to talk her out of looking into it further, he’s never told her to stop, and he’s never put the case files back onto the shelves.

“We will.” Ran says, although she can hear her own uncertainty. It’s not an easy case, someone has been thorough in making him seem culpable. “It’s just taking time, leave it to us, okay?”

Shinichi grimaces. And Ran realises it’s going to be one of those visits. One where he tries to push her away again - he’s never been good at fooling her, maybe to others he is unreadable, but Ran has spent far too long by his side to be fooled by pretend grins and empty words.

“I want you to drop the case.” Shinichi says, and Ran has to pretend it does not hurt as much as it does. It leaves a gaping wound in her chest, as if he has torn her heart out and is squeezing it before her eyes, waiting for her to crumble.

“I won’t.” Her voice is firm. They’ve had this conversation countless times and frankly, Ran’s tired of it. She wants to have nice conversations, wants to hear about him, the book he’s most recently read - she misses when he would gush over Sherlock Holmes to her.

Now instead of being faced with one truth, she is subjected to several lies that she has to sift through herself. This is not how their relationship is meant to work - and it hurts to see that it has deteriorated so much.

“Ran.” Shinichi says, “Please. You need to just let it go. There is no evidence that will prove my innocence.”

He pauses, chokes on words, before steeling himself. Well, Ran thinks, she’s not a Karate champion for nothing, she’s capable of taking whatever hits are frown at her. She can deflect them and she’s not afraid to throw them back.

“I did it.” He practically spits the words out, as if the words burn his tongue as he forms them, poison sizzling against muscle. “I killed those people, so stop trying to prove that I didn’t.”

Ran leans forward, and cups his cheek, and smiles. It’s so like him, she thinks, to tear himself apart simply because he thinks it will benefit her. She just hopes that he can understand, why she won’t let him hurt himself like that.

“Shinichi,” she stares into his eyes, keeping his gaze until he glances away, “I trust you, and I always will. But if you think you can convince me that you committed a crime like this, I can only say that I will never believe it.”

Shinichi pulls at his collar, and for a moment Ran sees purple bruises, many of them fading into a splotchy yellow. It makes her feel slightly sick, makes her want to grab onto his sleeve and drag him home so that he doesn’t have to deal with whatever is hurting him anymore.

“You are wasting your time here,” Shinichi says, “you should be outside trying to move on.”

There’s only two problems with that, Ran thinks.

Firstly, she can’t leave Shinichi behind, it’d be impossible to cut him out of her life, not after all of these years watching him out of the corner of her eye, not after loving him for this long.

Secondly - she doesn’t want to move on. Not unless she really has to.

“I’m not leaving you behind.” Ran says.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Shinichi narrows his eyes, turns away from her. “It’s only going to hurt you more if you keep coming to visit.”

She does not care much for the pain she might feel. Ran would rather see the two of them through to the end, even if it means turning her heart into dust, emotions aflame as if they’ve been set alight with gasoline.

Ran does not have time to respond, not before the shouting starts. It’s loud, and when Ran turns her head, eyes widening, she realises that the man looks scarily like Shinichi. It does not take long for her to add a name to the face - Kuroba Kaito, phantom thief KID - and it takes significantly less time to realise that he is bleeding, raw emotion replacing blood in the room.

“Kaito…” Shinichi mumbles, from behind her, and when Ran glances at him, she realises that he has gone pale. He is wincing.

He was your friend and he’s innocent. He’s going to die.

KID says the words that Ran has been too scared to say - Shinichi is going to die. She’s known since his trial, has known that there has been a countdown over his head, the number lessening with every passing day, but she has never let herself vocalise it. The moment she does, it becomes real.

“I am going to die.” Shinichi says once the shouting has stopped. He leans back against his chair, pulling his hand away from her. Ran flinches, scratches at one of her arms in an attempt to calm herself down. “There is nothing you can do that will change that.”

“I’ll get mum to appeal against the death penalty, we’ll get rid of it.” Ran tries. Desperation leaks into her voice, and maybe she is crying but she doesn’t necessarily think tears make her weak, they just make her honest with herself. “I won’t ever let you die.”

Shinichi hesitates. “Your mother is a brilliant lawyer, but she won’t be able to change my verdict. Please Ran.”

“I can’t just give up-”

“Listen Ran,” Shinichi leans forward, and it is almost as if he’s trying to memorise every part of her - the colour of her eyes, the laugh lines that have worn away at her cheeks. “I can’t keep this facade up, I can’t keep sitting down in this room and pretending it’s not going to happen, so please, let me give you this.”

She doesn’t quite feel like he’s giving her anything.

“I don’t want your last memory of me being one that’s painful, okay?” He continues, “so let’s enjoy this visit, and leave it like this. Let’s end it all on a happy note.”

But here is the thing, Ran doesn’t quite feel like this is a happy note.

“Okay.” She says anyway. She wipes away tears, and forces a smile on her face. “Yes, let’s just enjoy ourselves today.”

When the visiting times draw to an end, the clocks ticking and ticking, a feeling similar to doom festers in Ran’s stomach. Shinichi glances up at her and his smile is bittersweet, an expression that reminds her just how much she both hates and loves him.

“I love you,” she says, and means it, even if it is quiet and he doesn’t hear it. She doesn’t repeat herself, not even when he questions it. Instead, she tells him that she’s never going to stop missing him, no matter how much time passes.

“Thank you,” Shinichi says, after a moment, “for giving up on me.”

Ran wants to laugh. She wants to tell him that she is not giving up. Not on him, never on him. Even if she cannot see him, even if he thinks she has, she will never stop trying to prove that he truly is good.

Instead, she nods.

She will let him think what he wants. If it makes things easier on him, then for now she will be the one who has finally given into his request, who has finally decided it is time to take a step and face reality. Ran does not tell him that this is not the way it is supposed to end.

“We’ll meet again,” Ran says, as she stands up. She grants him one last smile, “someday.”

Their fingers touch for a second, and then, there is only empty space between them.

It is not until she is outside that Ran dissolves into tears.

She falls to her knees on the grass and sobs until tears are staining her cheeks and the back of her hands. In the back of her mind she knows that she needs to catch the next shuttle bus down to the train station, but it doesn’t quite register in her mind - it is not urgent.

“Ran-san?”

The voice is male, and she recognises it, how couldn’t she? Turning up to look at him, Ran wipes away her tears and takes the hand that is offered to her.

“Saguru-kun.”

Saguru smiles at her. It’s not mocking, or pitiful, nor is it very happy. It’s the smile of a man who has realised that being weighed down by problems leads to nothing but aching bones and crushed spirits.

“I’m on my way to the train station,” he says, and he points to a car, driver sat in the front. “If you’re headed in the same direction, you’re welcome to join me. You don’t have to wait for the bus.”

Ran opens her mouth, readies herself to refuse. “I coul-”

“Actually,” Saguru interrupts before she can turn him down, “I was hoping that we could go over Kudo-kun’s case. I feel like maybe we’ve overlooked something.”

[fan-art-ic]

@interstellarvagabond had this hella great fic idea for our Sophomore Jack au (@sophomore-jack) and so we stayed up till 2am creating this beautiful mess of stress.

Hope you like.

TW: Hallucinations, Cursing, Disassociation

“So, I saw ya skipped class again today,” Scottie said in a suspiciously casual voice.

Jack narrowed his eyes and looked up from his bed. “…yes?”

He hoped Scottie would drop the subject soon, so he could stay safe in his fortress of blankets. Unfortunately, this did not happen.

“And breakfast, and lunch, and the class after that,” Scottie continued, pausing to make an intrigued humming noise. “I see a pattern here, laddie.”

Really, no shit Scottie.

“Well that is what tends to happen when one doesn’t feel well,” Jack turned away toward the wall. Maybe if he tried actively ignoring Scottie the questioning would stop.

“You’ve been feeling unwell a lot lately,” Scottie said. His pointed tone was not lost on Jack. He considered telling Scottie to simply fuck off, but he was trying to be better than that. Trying not to be…he wanted to be a good person. He really did.

Inhale, exhale, breathe.

“Well,” Jack began and sat up, “it is unfortunate that my studies are suffering, but this bout of sickness will pass in time. Plus,” he raised an eyebrow and spread his hands out, “what would you have me do? Go to the nurse’s office?”

Checkmate.

“Well, not exactly,” Scottie said. “The nurse’s office is for people who are actually physically sick, laddie, and I got a feelin’ yer illness ain’t so physical.”

Okay, note: don’t play chess.

Jack grinded his teeth, feeling them scraping against each other almost painfully. The muscle in his jaw jumped.

“Scottie, I truly appreciate your concern, but my well-being is not something that you should trouble yourself with.”

“Well maybe if ya stopped being so troubling!” Scottie was pacing now, not anxiously but more like a cat ready to pounce. Or at least, so it seemed to Jack. He found he could not often trust his perception of things these days.

Scott halted and whipped around, pointing a finger at Jack. “Jack, you’ve been a mess ever since the beginning of the year. Last year ended with ya relatively mentally okay, but it seems ya not only backtracked, but ya slid miles backwards-” Scottie’s voice got louder with each word. “-and if ya don’t get help soon, I’m not sure what’s going to happen!”

“You are not my therapist,” Jack reminded his friend in a sharp tone.

“Aye, and a good thing I’m not,” Scottie came over to the bed, staring Jack down. “I don’t have the training or the knowledge. But ya know what I do have?” Scott sat down about a foot away from Jack on his bed, “I do have a set of ears.”

Oh my god that is Too close.

“You seem to use your mouth quite a bit more.” Jack edged away from his friend ever so slightly, hoping it would not look as if he was retreating.

It did.

“Jack, ya can’t run from me, laddie,” Scottie said. “Ya can’t push me away, though I know yer sure as hell trying.”

Jack’s brow furrowed. Why would someone continue to associate themselves with someone that caused them so much pain and aggravation? Why was Scottie still here? Still trying to drag his sorry ass out of bed? Still trying to give the murderer redemption?? Still trying to be his friend?

What a fool.

How could Jack even have friends now?

Sticking his nose where it does not belong. This is my business.

He didn’t deserve a friend who would care so much for him even after all he’s done.

“I’m still here, laddie,” Scottie said, noticing that Jack’s mind had gone miles away. Jack felt his blood grow hot.

Unfortunately.

“Are you just gonna sit in bed all day, runnin’ away from yer problems like some ninny?” Scottie asked, his voice harsher than he meant.

“Stop…” Jack muttered.

“This isn’t Ryou Sakai, the honor student, ass-kicking, friend-helping, health-advocating, gym rat, respect-giving friend I used to know!”

“I told you to stop!” Jack growled, his head was spinning. It felt as though a million wasps were stinging at his skin and buzzing in his ears, there was too much at once.

S T oP sT oP STOP S T O   P.

“The Jack I knew would be ashamed to see you here,” Scottie didn’t want to be cruel, but he knew Jack would just shut down if he kept pulling punches. He had to get a reaction, had to make him see.

Excuse me?

Jack screamed, a wordless primal yell, and lunged for his friend. Jack in his sophomore year, eating regularly and training everyday, had been near-lethal when he wanted to be. Jack in his junior year, starving, sleep-deprived, weak, plagued by hangovers…

His punch almost comically bounced off Scottie’s barrel chest. Scottie raised a ginger eyebrow, not sure if he was unimpressed or severely concerned, as Jack just proved his point.

“Ya see?” he said, gesturing to where the punch had landed. “That’s not a Jack punch. Remember when ya taught Malik how to throw a proper punch? Yer worse than he was back then.”

Scottie took a deep breath. If Jack was too emotional for words right now, then they’d settle this with a brawl. “Now this, this is how ya throw a punch!”

Wha- Scottie’s punch smashed into Jack, sending him sprawling across the bed. To Jack, it felt like he’d just been hit by a train. In reality, Scottie hit him softer than he did when they would play-fight last year.

fUCK.

Jack surged back to his feet, not a graceful fluid motion like he’d been taught by his father, but a jerky grappling with his own body and the bed in a desperate attempt to right himself. He tackled Scottie, somehow managing to push the larger boy back a few inches.

Jack started a barrage of punches, each one growing faster, angrier, weaker. He gave a near-incoherent scream. “Why won’t you leave me!”

“I’ll leave ya be when ya don’t need me,” Scottie said, putting Jack in a headlock.

“No!” Jack said. “Not leave me be…leave me!”

A scream tore itself from Jack’s throat and in a surge of desperation he broke free and scrambled off the bed and onto the floor. He stood, his head dropping, hands weakly in fists. Each limb looked as if it was suspended from a marionette string.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw again the vision of himself. The him he used to be. The blue phantom that stood taller than him, stronger than him, better than him. Judging him.

“Why…. won’t….. you just…. leave….” Jack gasped as he swayed. “Why do you stay…when I am this?”

What does you w a n t from me?

Jack gave a small, broken laugh as he gestured at himself and then at the phantom. He stared imploringly into Scottie’s eyes, not even registering the fearful concern growing on the other’s face.

“Perhaps he stays because he lives here? You’re just a burden to him. You’re the one who should leave.” his other self hissed, taunting him. “Oh, wait, I forgot, you live in your bed now don’t you? Pathetic.”

Jack weakly waved a dismissive hand at the hallucination, as if he could make it disappear.

“Who’s there now, laddie?” Scottie asked, looking at the empty patch of air that Jack kept glancing towards.

“The Ryou Sakai you miss so much,” Jack said, his voice both angry and heavy with the tears beginning to drip down his face.

Jack felt a wet drop on his hand and looked at it, startled, and raised the hand to his face.

Huh, he was crying.

“You can’t even have a conversation without bawling about it like a dumb baby?” The blue image flickered and got in his face giving a snort of disgust.

“How disgraceful.”

Like a flame, it contorted until the facial features no longer resembled Jack. At first, it was just a warped image of himself, but a new face began to form.

It was the man he killed, it was the woman he let die, it was his father staring down at him with eyes that burned like embers.

The blood from that childhood memory so long ago dripped down his face.

“Our actions are what define us, my son,” Jack’s father rasped. “And your actions define you as a murderer.”

A m u r d e r e r.

Jack sank to his knees, his throat too raw to scream again. He didn’t know when he became aware of it, but suddenly he was leaning against Scottie. His friend was trying to right him from his rag-doll limpness, but Jack did not want to stand and face himself. He wanted to lay down and sink through the floor through the building through the dirt and sink forever never stopping and I can’t breaTHE-

“Jack, yer hyperventilatin’.”

Jack gasped wildly for breath, eyes flying open and tears springing forth. He clawed at Scottie’s arm and the ground, grasping for a tether.  Scottie grabbed Jack’s clawing hand, as if he knew what it was Jack was looking for.

Jack still scratched the carpet weakly and Scottie grabbed the other hand and gathered Jack in his arms, holding him tightly. The pressure calmed Jack, instantly flinging him back into reality. He could feel his breath evening out, albeit slowly.

Jack inhaled deeply and held it for almost a minute. He exhaled heavily and his shoulders shook as Jack burrowed his head into Scottie’s chest.

…fuck….

His whole body felt limp and light, it was as if he could float away. His cheeks were still tear-stained and he could taste salt on his lips.

“How do ya feel, laddie?” Scottie asked.

“…you never said, why you stay,” was all Jack found he could say.

Please tell me.

Scottie sighed and shifted his hold on Jack, holding tighter. “You’re my friend, Jack. Friends help friends. Isn’t that enough?”

“How can you still call one such as I your friend?” Jack asked. “How can you still look me in the eyes and feel anything but disgust, anger…or fear?”

Or hatred?

Scottie looked down, incredulous. “Sure I get angry when ya don’t eat or disgusted when ya don’t have a shower in a week, but fear? Not with those kitten punches.”

When Jack didn’t laugh Scottie sighed. “But seriously, laddie. I’m not afraid of you because I know I can trust you. You can trust me too, ya know.”

Trust……

Jack stiffened and nearly pulled away, but was too weak to break from the hug.

“No ya don’t laddie, I want some god-fucking answers we didn’t do this so you could fuck off,” Scottie pulled him back in, ensnaring Jack.

Jack groaned and gave up any attempt of escape.

“This isn’t a short or pleasant tale,” he warned. The cautionary had little effect as it was muffled by Scottie’s shirt.

“It’s not a story I’m lookin’ for, laddie” Scottie said.

Jack glanced up with dread pooling in his gut. “What would you like to know?”

“Well we can start with ‘are you going to leave the room today?’ or ‘when did you last eat?’ but mostly what I wanna know is are you going to be okay?” Scottie asked.

Jack gave a small huff. “I do not know, I do not remember, and that is a very complicated question, my friend.”

“Don’t re- don’t know??” Scottie rolled his eyes, but his exasperation seemed to be a mask for concern. “Okay, how about this, can I remind you to eat and sleep and bathe every now and then? Without ya feelin’ like yer privacy is being invaded?”

Jack gave a breathy laugh. “I would not object to that.”

“Sure ya say that now, but ya were objecting quite a bit earlier!” Scottie teased.

Jack gave an indignant nudge with his head.

The pair sat in silence. Unlike earlier, it was not a tense or oppressive silence, but a comforting one where both individuals are momentarily content.

Of course, Scottie was the one to break the silence.

“Did ya at least enjoy hitting me?” Scottie asked. “I know you’ve been wanting to do that a lot lately.”

Jack chuckled. It was small, quiet, and half-hearted, but it was enough of a laugh to make Scottie smile hopefully.

“I think I hurt my hand more than I hurt you,” Jack said. “I really have…” he trailed off, thinking about what he had become.

“Been slacking on the protein? Aye, but we can fix that.” Scottie winked. “There’s this amazing thing called ‘eating’ I’ll show you sometime.”

“Perhaps after I discover this amazing thing called ‘showering’?” Jack suggested with a half-smile.

“Or the miracles of shaving!” Scottie laughed.

“You do not like the beard?” Jack asked, feigning a wounded tone.

“Ya look like ya have a drowned wild rat on yer face,” Scottie said. “I was more afraid of it than you when we were fighting!”

Okay, fuck you.

Jack glared at his friend, but he could feel his spirits lifting as their banter took on its usual light-heartedness.

He looked back to his bed, the dual fortress and prison he had been hiding in for so long now. Jack could feel a weight in his stomach that told him this was not the end of things. No, he could not punch or hug away all of his problems. However, he felt more secure in his friendships. He could at least stay close to the people he cared about without feeling guilty or afraid he was losing them. Maybe that was a start.

Jack stood, ignoring the blue flickers in the corner of his vision.

“Ya feel better, laddie?”

Jack looked down at his companion, at Scottie. A man two years his senior who had only been kind to him throughout this whole ordeal and hadn’t complained once. Jack’s friend.

Jack gave a tired, but full smile. “I do. Thank you.”

Scottie stood and clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “That’s good to hear, Jack.” He pulled them in for another, shorter hug.

A start to what, Jack wasn’t sure.

But it was certainly good.

[fortey]

The King of the Wasps

There are some days in the heart of summer that seem to almost stop, stuck like a tire in mud, stalled out and sweltering while the world ceases its spinning, and everything just is.  The sun beats down and everything is still and quiet except for the insects in their frenzy to live their short lives. Even the shade is oppressive, and the breeze doesn’t dare to blow.

On a day like this, you could find the love of your life as you share a glance.  On a day like this you could walk a hundred miles and just lose yourself in your own thoughts.  On a day like this you could die screaming and not a soul will hear it.

Billy Baumgartner is a man who’s going places. True, he’s only seventeen, but he has plans.  Big plans. Plans you don’t even know, man.  Billy is saving up his money from his job stocking shelves at the Kroger.  He’s already got over one thousand dollars. And this time next summer, he’s going to be in Los Angeles.  Screw this town.  Screw this town and everyone in it with their boring lives that go nowhere and do nothing. How can 6,000 people agree to get together and just rot in place for the rest of their lives?  

Billy Baumgartneris not going to rot here with everyone else.  Once he’s done school, he’ll hit the west coast and start his band.  Everyone agrees he’s the best guitar player in town, and probably as good as anyone you hear on the radio.  It’s true, he’s been playing since he was six years old.  He could drop a riff right now and you’d swear Hendrix had just entered the room.  Billy Baumgartner is that good.  

For too long nothing has gone on in this town. A Wal Mart opening three towns over a decade ago was the biggest thing that happened here in Billy’s entire life. Yesterday, the front page of the local paper had a story about the library changing its hours, so it closed at six instead of seven. This town has been on life support since the first house was built.

It’s not that Billy hates this place and everyone in it, he just doesn’t get it.  Why is everyone just settling?  Maybe 100 years ago this made sense, but good God, doesn’t everyone have cable TV and the internet?  Can’t they see the world they’re missing?  It just doesn’t make sense.

Billy Baumgartner has argued with his parents about leaving about a million times.  They don’t understand why he’d want to leave.  It’s quiet and safe here.  It’s a great place to raise a family.  He has a job, and he has friends.  LA is big and dangerous and expensive.  What could possibly happen in LA that’s worth leaving.  Billy just shakes his head.  What couldn’t happen in LA?

Billy Baumgartner wipes the sweat from his brow. It’s got to be at least 110 degrees out here today.  Because he’s been saving so much money, Billy never bothered getting a car like his friends. The Kroger is literally a 20-minute walk from his house.  Why not get the exercise?  Better to be in good shape when he gets to LA anyway.  Lots of ladies to impress. Lots of beaches to hit. Lots of photoshoots to do.

The field past Welch street is like an outdoor sauna.  The tall grass and weeds are just standing still, crunching in Billy’s wake as he passes, swatting gnats and mosquitos and black flies away from his face.  He should have invested in some bug repellant.

Welch field is one of those spots the world forgot about. It's just empty land. Who owns it? The government? The bank? No one really knows. Overgrown for acres. That grass that scratches and cuts your bare legs if you brush against it the wrong way. The skeletal frames of rickety, gnarled old crab apple trees all abuzz with hungry insects eating the mealy fruit.

The sound of a lone cicada is all that dares break the silence here.  Not for the first time, Billy finds himself stopping to look around.  The world feels so damn big sometimes.  This vastness that just needs to be explored.  Why does everyone want to sit still all the time?

On a cloudless day the sky is a blank slate. But some days, when the clouds are just right, you get that depth and the sky looks so big. The world looks so goddamn big, it practically begs you to spread your wings and experience it. Why can't Billy Baumgartner be a part of that?

The cicada’s trilling dies off.  Silence rolls in like the tide. That crushing sense of nothing that has been the bane of Billy's existence for years. Across the field, the old Marsh barn catches his eye.  The rickety, faded red structure has been here much longer than Billy has. As far as he knows, the Marsh family have been gone for at least 20 years.  It’s just no one bothered to use the land for anything.  As a kid, he used to play in the old barn, until his parents found out and had a fit.  It’s dangerous, you know.  What if the roof caved in?  What if he got trapped and no one knew where he was?  What if what if what if.  

Billy Baumgartner thinks “screw it” and changes direction, heading through weeds that haven't seen a human in years.  The cans at work will survive without him for a half hour.  If he has to be stuck here on a day like today, may as well have some fun. The world is built on the promise of adventures. He needs this. A nostalgic trip to something almost dreamlike. Something from a time when he still felt hopeful and alive.

Thick grasses grip at his bare legs as he trudges across the uneven field.  That rough, sandpapery feel scraps against his shins and he curses to himself. Still, better than having all of this mowed under and turned into more housing for boring, do-nothing people to fester in.  In a weird way, this field of nothing was the most alive thing in town.

A tangle of roots snare his foot and Billy stumbles.  He swears out loud as his hands hit dry, rough earth and some flesh scrapes off. As he tries to regain his footing, a sudden pain under his palm causes him to pull away sharply.  The sting is like a tiny stab of fire, digging into his nerves.  He cradles his hand instinctively and lurches backwards as a wasp twists in a frenzy before righting itself and turning a circle on the ground.  

“Goddamn it,” Billy mutters, looking at the insect. It paces, facing him a moment, before testing out its wings, seemingly as annoyed with Billy as he is with it. The insect flies off, no worse for the wear after its run in with Billy Baumgartner.  As for Billy, he checks the fiery sting on his palm.  It throbs, and is already turning red.  He doesn’t think he’s allergic, but he also can barely remember the last time he was stung by a wasp. When was it? Doesn't matter.

Billy gets to his feet, dusts himself off.  He heads out again after a quick look around to make sure no one else saw his misfortune.  Just the grass and the bugs, and the barn.  No harm, no foul.

The old Marsh barn looks like it was made from driftwood that someone sent adrift about four or five times.  Planks aren’t flush, the little paint remaining is flaking, and the roof sags at the far end.  Inside, the support beams look like they’re made of solidified dust, and the loft has caved in.  There are small relics of a bygone era; a rake with no handle, some rusted chains, an old barrel, trash from years of kids making it their clubhouse, but not much else.  Billy and his friends used to hang out here and play, read comic books and eat candy. It seemed fun at the time.

In the corner is a flaccid and filthy mattress and some dusty bottles, the remnants of a party spot from some teens, or maybe a drifter who set up shop for a time. The heat in the barn is no different than the heat outside the barn.  The only difference is the air seems more stagnant.  The smell is like a guinea pig cage in need of cleaning. Dust and rotten hay, the smell of old earth and a hint of mold. It is the smell of a yesterday no one can remember anymore. A storybook kingdom that has lost its magic.

Billy Baumgartner enters with confidence. There are piles of refuse in the corners here and there.  On the far side, below the sagging roof, is an old tarp.  His face lights up when he sees it.  He and the guys had found a rundown old motorcycle in the field and brought it back here with plan to fix it up.  None of them had the first clue how to fix it, and it was missing any number of parts, but when you’re 10 you think anything is possible. They’d hidden it under the tarp.  There was no way it was still here.

Striding over o the mildew-encrusted and rotting tarp, another wasp makes a beeline for Billy’s face.  He feels the hard, little body hit like a pea shot from a straw, and latch onto his cheek. He swats it away, more panicked than he’d like to admit, and curses again.  In the dimness of the barn he can’t see where it went or where it came from.

The throb in his hand keeps him rooted in the moment. The last time he was stung by a wasp was when he was a boy. He had gone into the old shed at the back of their yard and seen what looked like a ball of paper stuck to the corner of the ceiling. A single wasp paced back and forth around a hole near the base of it and, being a stupid kid, he did what stupid kids do. He took a stick and broke it open.

There must have been a thousand wasps in that nest. They rushed I a swarm, furious at little Billy Baumgartner for destroying their home, for declaring war o the hive. The stings were like fire on his arms, his face, his neck. He ran screaming and they gave chase. How could he have forgotten that?

A quick circle on his heels in the barn, looking for his winged attacked, and Billy Baumgartner sees nothing.  The pain in his hand has lessened, but there’s a definite lump there now.  Last thing he needs is one of those on his face, people will think he has crazy acne.

Another wasp buzzes past his ear and Billy flinches, ducking dramatically.  He moves forward quickly, wary now, and grabs the tarp.  The old material feels crusty in his hand, flakes of ancient blue plastic come away in his grip.  He yanks quickly.  For the briefest of moments, he is unsure of how to react.  

The barn erupts. The buzzing is a chorus, a symphony of angry activity.  A thousand wasps, a thousand thousand, burst from the darkness beyond the tarp.  Billy screams and recoils.  The handleless rake catches his heel and he falls back.  The insects swarm and Billy tries to cover his face crawling backwards in a panic.  And as he tries to protect himself, as the swarm of insects detect their target and dive to attack, Billy Baumgartner sees it.  

In the center of the storm, writhing with the bodies of countless wasps, a massive thing. Black, hollow eyes regard Billy Baumgartner, wasps crawling in and out of the papery coating.  A slit below, lips made of mud-brown parchment, slowly expands, widens.  A mouth. It returns Billy’s scream and the wasps pour outward.  The sound, a buzzing, hollow roar of rage.

Billy Baumgartner screams as he has never screamed before.  As each wasp deposits its venom into his exposed flesh, a pinpoint of fire burns inside of him.  And it happens over and over, under the unflinching, hollow gaze of the hive king.

Paper flesh rustles.  The vague shape of a man pulls away from the wall of the barn. Flaky remnants like phyllo dough cling to the wood.  The wasps still pour from its face, even as Billy Baumgartner’s vain attempts to beat away the assault grow weaker. His screams are muffled by writhing little bodies as they fill his mouth, stinging his gums, his lips, his tongue.  In moments, he can no longer even hold his arms up to protect himself. He lays on the floor, his body seizing as his eyes roll back in his head, the toxin overloading his system, the pain engulfing him. His flesh swells and bloats, angry and red.

Billy Baumgartner does not even register the presence of the hive.  He does not see as it lowers itself to a crawl, straddling his body.  He does not feel the paper of its dry, dead lips on his own.  Does not feel the army of wasps as they crawl down his throat.  He senses nothing as they begin their work, mixing saliva and wood fibers, covering his body, entombing him and the hive man together. There is no life left in Billy Baumgartner as he joins the hive.