#and now i just read dads reports like the whole body tests thing

[the-prophecy]

The way I can properly understand body check up reports after this sem is ✨

[dreamescapeswriting]

Keep Holding On ~ KSJ [Request]

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

PAIRING: Jin x Reader x Daughter 

GENRE: established relationship, death, angst, ANGST, sad, family au,

A/N: The song I went with was Keep Holding On by Avril Lavigne and I hope that it’s okay for you my love

TRIGGER WARNING: Details the passing of the reader please read with Caution!!!!

The moment he saw your daughter walk up onto her debut stage his heart clenched inside of his chest. Nara had turned out to look so much more like you than Jin and he couldn't help but imagine seeing you up on that stage. Nara's eyes scanned the crowd looking for Jin and as soon as she found her father she began doing a small wave with her hand. All she'd ever wanted was for Jin to come and watch her debut stage and now it was finally happening. Nerves will bundling up inside of her but with her dad watching she knew she would be able to do anything she put her mind to. The thought of the song lingered in her mind, it was a song Nara had been writing about in secrecy, not wanting Jin to see it until the time was right.

"She looks so much like Y/n," Jimin whispered as the lights began to focus on Nara, getting cameras ready to come back from the ad break. Jin stared at her, not being able to take his eyes off her for even a second. It had to have been the way your hair was styled and your makeup was done, it was like looking at a photograph of you. 

"Hyung, she looks great," Yoongi whispered giving Jin a small shoulder rub of encouragement. It had been 24 years since you'd passed away and seeing your daughter up there was bringing everything back for Jin.

"Hyung?" Namjoon questioned watching as Jin looked down at his phone getting the camera open and staring back up at his daughter on the stage. Mic in her hand as she got ready to perform for the first time in front of thousands of people. 

A slow melody began to play through the speakers inside of the room, it was a brave decision to debut with such a slow song but it was something from the heart. Something Nara had struggled with for years where your death was concerned. Although Jin had never once blamed Nara for your passing she couldn't help but feel guilty over it. 

Tears rushed to her eyes instantly as she sang her heart out, making eye contact with Jin who was already crying from the first verse. The song touched on how guilty she felt about you dying and taking you away from Jin, about how she could feel you watching over her even when you were no longer around. That she and Jin were still going to keep holding on, pushing forward with you around them in their hearts.

"She has your nose," You whispered tiredly as you watched Jin bouncing around the side of your bed making you giggle. A small cough catching in your throat as you saw Jin stare down at your unnamed daughter. The one thing you had been struggling to do for the last hour was naming her. 

"How about Hyuna?" Jin questioned as he sat down on the rocking chair beside your bed. Truth be told you had a bunch of names ready for her but when she came out of you, none of them seemed to match her.

"Nara?" You croaked out, sitting up in the bed a little and watching Jin. Your head resting on the pillow behind you as you felt your breathing begin to worsen. The doctor said all of this was normal, that you'd had such a rough birth that this was bound to make you tired for a while. But you felt completely out of it, everything sounded and felt as though it was completely far away from you and you had no energy to hold your own daughter. 

"Nara," Jin repeats looking down at his daughter as she slept soundly in his arms. He was running the name through his head looking at her and smiling proudly.

"Nara," You whispered back to him, closing your eyes for just a second to get some rest. Jin smiled as he nodded his head, 

"Nara is perfect...Little baby Nara," He chuckled softly glancing up and chuckling some more when he found you sound asleep. 

"You must have really tired Mama out," He laughs getting up and carefully placing Nara into the small crib that the hospital had provided for you both to use during your stay. As much as Jin wanted you to get some rest you had to wake up, the doctors needed to do some tests on both you and Nara to make sure you were fit for release. 

"Babe? You need to wake up, the doctors will be coming any second to discharge us," Jin nudged your arm softly but you didn't move, eyes didn't even flinch as Jin frowned. 

"Baby?" He whispered laughing a little. You must have really been tired since usually, the smallest noise would wake you up. Jin knew from the experience of leaving the house early every morning. Shaking you a little Jin shook his head at you, wondering how you could even sleep with the hospital noise but your body rolled onto your back and stayed there, Jin's heart sank realising that you were no longer in the room. 

"NURSE!" He screamed out ringing the bell beside the bed over and over again as he tried to feel for a pulse on your neck. 

"NURSE!" His voice bellowed out as he desperately began to breathe into your lips, doing small chest compressions as he shook his head, 

"Don't you dare die on me." He whimpered looking down at you as you laid there lifelessly, a nurse and set of doctors running into the room and ripping him away from you. 

"Let me be with her! She needs me!" He screamed as a security guard escorted him out of the room. All he could see were people working around you tirelessly, machines beeping and people yelling over one another. 

"What's going on? Please tell me!" He begged as a nurse ran out of the room carrying his daughter and taking her into another room with other babies. 

"Jin...Jin you need to calm down." The security guard whispered as Jin stared through the small window at your bed. The doctors freezing as they stared up at the clock above your bed. 

"Why did you stop!? HEY! HEY! Don't fucking stop!" He screamed banging his hands on the window as he yelled at the doctors to work on you. 

"Time of death, 11:58 pm." The words felt like cold ice dripping down Jin's shirt as he watched doctors leaving the room, all of them giving looks of sympathy before leaving him there. All of them going back to their wives, husbands or partners to spend the night together while Jin just stayed there. Watching as a nurse covered up your body and walked out of the room. 

"You can have some time with her...They'll come to collect her in five minutes." She whispered watching as Jin stared at your body, walking into the room and just watching you. Half expecting you to sit up or for him to wake up and have this all be some kind of nightmare.

"Mr Kim?" Jin turned to look at the coroner who had been running all of the tests on you and bounced Nara in his arms. It had been two weeks since you passed and there still wasn't a definitive answer as to how this had happened.

"It's hard to determine with things like these but we...We believe it was due to blood loss during the labour." Jin looked at Nara as he bounced her around, nodding his head. Even after getting answers that he would feel a little bit better but he didn't. Nothing made any of this better. The fear of raising his daughter alone came crashing into his head as he stared down at the report in the coroner's hands, sighing a little. Jin had held back crying for weeks, refusing to cry as he blamed himself for this. He felt as though he should have made sure that you were okay first, he should have pressured the doctors into sooner tests.

The final verse was coming up and tears were ruining Nara's makeup as she belted her whole chest into the song, holding the microphone despite shaking heavily. 

"There's nothing you could say, nothing you could do...There's no other way when it comes to the truth...So keep holding on...Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through." The crowd erupted in cheers as Jin and Nara made eye contact, both of them crying as she slowly made her way off the stage toward him. 

"Daddy." She breathed as he said nothing, just pushed her into his chest wrapping his arms around her. Embracing her tightly and kissing the top of her head softly, both of them forgetting the cameras as they cried together. Sobbing against her father's chest as he kept her close to him, kissing her over and over again on the top of her head. 

"None of it was ever your fault," He promised as he held her close to him, the cameras leaving them alone as the boys escorted them backstage for some privacy. Crying together as she nodded her head, Jin held her face in his hands as he smile, using his thumb to wipe away the tears from her cheeks. 

"She would be proud of you, so proud." He whispered to her, his voice cracking as he looked down at her. Over the years of your passing, he'd never once moved on but it had gotten easier to deal with your death.

"Shall we go home and watch old home movies?" He questioned as she leaned into his touch, nodding her head over and over again. When you first died Jin could never bring himself to think or speak of you, when Nara reached the age of wondering where you were he could barely explain it. Instead, the two of them would watch home movies of you, look over old photos and videos you had made whilst pregnant. 

"Let's go." He whispered to her, taking her hand in his and taking her to go and collect her things from her changing room.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @taeechwitaa​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​ @misa0000​ 

[nevermindirah]

Dorothy Freeman facts

By facts I of course mean headcanons, because Nile's mom doesn't get a first name in canon (or even confirmation that her last name is Freeman). All we know about her is the picture on Nile's phone lock screen (which is Kiki Layne's real-life mom and brother!) and a few lines that Nile tells Andy about her. I’ve been collecting my Dorothy headcanons for a while now to eventually make a post, and @mprosperossprite​‘s excellent post giving non-Americans context for what it means that Nile is from the South Side of Chicago prompted me to go ahead and share this. Disclaimer that I’m white and I will absolutely make corrections if it’s pointed out that I’ve caused harm with any of this.

So here have some fun facts about the version of Mama Freeman who lives in my head rent-free:

Her family and growing up:

she was born in the mid-'60s and named after Dorothy Dandridge

I can’t decide whether she was born in Chicago or moved there later on (maybe with Nile’s dad?) and when in the waves of the Great Migration her family left the South

she came of age in the "post"-Civil Rights movement and went to college in the mid-80s when a lot of what are now the foundational classics of Black feminism were being written

she was a young adult when Anita Hill risked so much to report that a Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her, and as a result she HATES Joe Biden

Marriage and babies:

she met Nile's father — I can’t decide how they met and I have two competing headcanons for his name, either Gideon for the hefty Biblical masculinity vibes (Giddy for short among family, that man loved to laugh) or Carl, which started out as a shitty Carl’s Jr burger chain joke that turns out to be perfect (it means free man!), and @knoepfchen​ used it in the sequel to if you do take a thief where Carl is alive!! — and Dorothy was a little skeptical of his near-religious devotion to the military but he was really hot and really devoted to her and they made it work

she's a little pissed that she was right but it's unbearable if she thinks about it too often

it's going to be a long, long time before she can look back on pictures of Baby Nile stomping around the house in her dad's combat boots (this is a Gina Prince Bythewood headcanon, whyyyyyyyy can I not find a link to where she said this)

she named their second baby Indus, Indy for short (this is nearly as established fanon in Book of Nile circles as how much Booker loves eating pussy, and Indy Freeman as a young adult is portrayed by either Aldis Hodge or John Boyega I don’t make the rules)

Work:

Dorothy did some office jobs but nothing really grabbed her, and she was probably gonna have to move for her husband's career, so she decided on teaching — high school humanities

she’s been active in CTU (one of the strongest teacher’s unions in the US) her whole career and one year she was on the bargaining committee and her babies know damn well never to trust a boss, not even one who says all the right things — if she ever finds out the way Nile said "like Quynh?" when Andy promised to protect her, she will lose her mind with pride

(Nile was 18 and freshly graduated from high school in 2012 when CTU went on strike for the first time in a generation and she brought her mom snacks on the picket line)

one of her very favorite things is getting her students to laugh despite themselves at her "oh my GOD you're so EMBARRASSING" old-people jokes

she's one of those teachers who can get 30+ teenagers to go dead silent with judicious application of body language

she's known to occasionally go easy on grading subjective things like essays when she knows students are having a particularly rough time at home, but the second she gets the feeling they're taking advantage and not trying their best that shit is over and they better mind their Ps & Qs

she's the kind of person who says old-people shit like that

she gives her students assignments like "help 5 neighbors register to vote" and "write a compare/contrast table about the candidates in this local election" and "research 5 different ways you could get grant money to do X" and other practical civic-minded shit

standardized testing is her supervillain origin story, just kidding it’s Rahm Emanuel, why the fuck did Obama trust that asshole

After her husband died:

she would have lost her goddamn mind if it weren't for her church friends after her husband died, people from the church raised money so they could make ends meet while his pension paperwork was taking forever, church friends watched Indy so Nile could go out for the soccer team, etc etc

she sold her and her late husband's house and moved to a 3-bedroom co-op unit when Nile started high school, it's more affordable and it meant she didn't have to worry about household repairs in the same way, she can use a wrench if she needs to but she doesn't have time and it just makes her grief flare up (co-op housing has a long history in Chicago and other US cities (like Washington DC where I live) as a way for Black people to access decent, affordable housing in the face of entrenched discrimination)

the move meant putting a longer commute between her and church, but she didn't even bother looking for a church closer to their new home, she loaded the kids into the car on the weekends, parking is hell in their new neighborhood but it's worth giving up a hard-won parking spot to not have to wait so long for the L on Sunday mornings

Indy lived with her through college and he was gearing up to get his own place when Nile died, Dorothy was planning to move into a one-bedroom in the co-op building because she doesn't need so much space anymore, Indy took a day off from his new job (not so new anymore, her baby's so grown!) to help her sort things to donate when those dress-uniform Marines came to their door

part of her wishes she could've been home more and not had to rely on Nile so much for help with Indy, but he's turned out such a kind young man, and he's a much better cook than his sister is (was, oh God — no wait, is! she’s alive! what do you mean you’ve been alive all this time??)

some of the girls from church are encouraging her to check out this social dancing thing, nobody's pressuring her to date but there's definitely been some ribbing, and with Indy out of the house... maybe? probably not, but maybe

Her feelings and beliefs and likes and dislikes:

she's an absolute badass and also she's a soft human woman with lots of feelings

she's very, very traditional in some ways, and part of her mixed feelings about Nile following in her dad's footsteps is gender stuff, she's proud of her daughter and would never stand in the way of what Nile wants to do with her life, and if Nile came home and told her she's a lesbian she would never reject her, but if Nile came home and told her she's bisexual maybe she can just try focusing on men? “I love you sweetheart and I want you to be happy I just know how hard it is already for us in this world” type shit

she has been on team natural hair basically her entire life and one of the worst fights she and Nile ever had was over Nile wanting to straighten her hair as a pre-teen

Indy takes more after her and Nile takes more after their dad, she's so proud of both of them, but Dorothy's activism was mostly wearing her natural hair to work and daring bosses to give her shit, Indy's out there marching in the streets like her parents had and she WORRIES

she teases Indy for going to so many protests like he's using it as an excuse to meet girls, but she WORRIES

when she turns 60, she gets box braids with streaks of dark purple, subtle enough that it's still work-appropriate but it makes her smile, she may be old now but damnit she’s still pretty!

she loves Grey's Anatomy and Star Trek and she watched Bridgerton all in one day

she has a dirty-old-lady celebrity crush on Chris Hemsworth

if she's ever masturbated thinking about Donna Summer, well, that's nobody's business but her own (do non-Americans know about the queen of disco??)

If you want to read fic featuring Dorothy:

I won't have to leave alone, 1000 words, Nile has a nightmare and decides to go tell her family she's immortal

I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore, 65k, Nile adjusts to immortality and does a lot of soul searching about what it means to "do what we think is right", Booker goes to grad school for trauma studies, the working title of this fic was Booker Reads Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and Goes Down on Nile and the final product has an annotated bibliography in the author's notes if you’re into that kind of thing, a lot of my Dorothy Freeman headcanons were born of my process writing this

Gather round the table, we'll give you a treat, 2279 words, college AU, Nile brings her Jewish boyfriend home for Christmas

a contribution I made to Shitty Old Guard Deaths: (Booker, USA, 2025, cause of death: a mother’s righteous wrath)

[logan-please-smile-speaks]

Hi

also you’re required by law to read through the whole thing sorry not sorry

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

wow you made it, good job

[allegra-writes]

“Teeth”

Peter Parker x Anti-hero!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, chocking kink, rough sex.

Part XI of the "Mercy" series

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

"Something in the way you look into my eyes... I don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive"

Teeth - 5SOS

Peter was going to be sick.

He hadn't felt sick in years, ever since the spider bite, but he was sure his stomach was about to turn any second now.

It was all in front of his eyes, the darkest, most confidential of S.H.I.E.L.D's files. Project Lazarus. Nick Fury’s  unethical, insane scheme to get the original six back together, using the kree blood running through Captain Marvel's veins to reanimate the fallen ones. And you had been the ultimate guinea pig, the final test.

And Peter had been the one to authorize it.

The name on the files was your father's, but Bucky had only consented after Peter…

He ran, barely making it to the ensuite on time to empty the contents of his stomach into the sink. He let the water flow to wash the foul liquid away.

That wasn't even the worst. Oh no, that was barely the top of the iceberg. The most horrifying part, the part that was going to give him nightmares for weeks, was that protocol. The T.A.H.I.T.I. protocol, a machine wired directly to your brain, with your skull splitted open, erasing everything Fury considered you didn't need. There were even fucking reports about how much more docile and happier you were after forgetting your mother's death, and your subsequent murderous rampage.

And at least half of it was bullshit. They had told you about Natasha the very same day you had woken up, asking for your mommy in russian, breaking their hearts in a thousand pieces once they understood what was going on.

He sprayed some cold water on his face, trying to regain his composure. As bad as he was feeling, it was probably nothing compared to what you were feeling. He had to get it together, for you. He rinsed his mouth and dried his face with a towel, stepping back into his room.

But you were nowhere to be found.  

His heart fell to his stomach. He scrambled to put on a pair of sweats, cursing the valuable seconds he was wasting, before running at breakneck speed through hallways and flights of stairs until he reached your floor. By the time he barged into your room, he was out of breath.

“No” It came out as a whisper, a barely audible gasp at finding his worst suspicions confirmed.

There you were, fully dressed, a backpack open on your bed with a few clothes thrown haphazardly inside as you raided your bedroom for weapons.

“No” He repeated, more firmly, when you passed by him. He was met with more silence, as you took your small Glock 42 and checked the magazine. You wouldn't even look at him. You couldn't. You knew that if you as much as met those warm coffee eyes, bright with tears, you wouldn't be able to bring yourself to do it, you wouldn't be able to leave him.

And you had to. Peter didn't know, you were certain, he didn't mean to do so, but he was playing right into the role director Fury intended for him to play: A distraction and an anchor, something to stay for, to keep you loyal to the avengers.

Just like Hydra had used your father to keep your mother in line once, a long time ago. She had told you that story, told you about your dad's face, frozen inside a cryogenic pod. And she had taught you, with tears in her eyes, the motto you had lived your whole life by, up until now: ‘Your first and most important loyalty, must always be to yourself’

You counted your bullets, and tucked the gun into the thigh holster under your skirt. It was time to honor that law.

Peter stepped in front of you, halting your advances,

“Y/n, stop, talk to me, please!” He reached for your hand, but you avoided his touch. You knew what would happen if he touched you.

“It’s over, Peter” Your voice washed over him like a bucket of cold water, chilling him to the bone, “I’m leaving”

The words knocked all the air out of his chest, like a physical blow. He knew your first reaction would be to fly, your mother had raised you your whole life to make self preservation your first instinct. He had feared you would leave him behind.

But somehow, Peter had never pictured you would want to leave him.

He could feel his eyes burn, smell the salt of his own tears. He choked on the question that wanted to escape his throat, it was useless questioning why: He was still pretty much a stranger to you, all of them were. You weren't one to trust easily in strangers, and you had just been proven right. But comprehending didn't make it any less painful.

“Take me with you” He was conscious of the futility of his request as he said the words but he had to try. He had to.

You stopped your packing, meeting his eyes. But he found nothing in yours. No warmth. No trust. Nothing but the cold fire of your barely contained rage, algid and terrible. Peter had seen that look before, back in a barn on a stormy night. He regretted, for what was probably the thousandth time, not running away with you then, instead of asking you to stay with him.

“I was there” He tried again, “the night you tried to kill Clint”

“I know” You interrupted him, “I just read the file”

“I asked you to stay that night. You wanted to run and instead of asking you to let me go with you, I asked you to stay. I’m not making that mistake again. Let me go with you”

Unknowingly, Peter had just confirmed your worst suspicions. He had been the key piece in Fury's chess game from the very beginning, sending him after you over and over again despite his failures, he had set the bait. And you had fallen straight into his trap, forgetting all your training, giving up your own freedom… for a boy.

You weren’t making the same mistake twice either.

“Goodbye, Peter.”

He watched as in slow motion how you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, realizing then that the only way to stop you from leaving was to physically stop you. Desperate, he let his instinct take over in one last attempt to keep you there.

He tackled you, your body hitting the floor hard, all the air knocked out of your lungs at once. Your wrists hurt where his hands pinned them to the floor as he straddled you, a feeling of deja vu washing over him as he looked down at your furious face, but you weren't the same girl he had webbed down to the faded hardwood of that dingy apartment almost a year ago. Not anymore. Six months of training with the winter soldier, the handler of widows himself, had made you even deadlier than you already were.

You tangled your ankle around one of his own, bucking your hips up, pushing him out of balance as you rolled him over, landing on top of him, hand firm around his throat.

“You think you can stop me?” There was venom, and contempt, in your words, his spider sense flaring up. But tried as he may, he couldn't move, couldn't even look away. He was a fly, trapped and defenseless, in your web. He had always been. How foolish and conceited of him, calling himself Spider-man, when there, laying underneath you, he finally understood what a real predator was.

“You think you can get on top of me? Think you can dominate me, boy?” You felt Peter's gulp under your palm. It was tempting, so tempting…

So you squeezed, just a little, watching his pupils blow wide with adrenaline, equal parts crisp trepidation and desire.  Peter’s head was spinning, and it wasn't just from lack of oxygen. He didn't know the exact moment you went from fighting him to claw at his clothes, but you were, and he was aiding you, ripping yet another one of your panties, another casualty in the warfare of your relationship, guiding your hips down as you braced yourself, one hand on the floor, the other one still around his neck. Unlike him, who was hard from the moment he felt your hands on his skin, you weren't ready, nowhere near wet enough, but you didn't care: The slight burn grounded you, made everything sharper. This wasn't about placer anyway, this was a punishment. For Peter, for making you feel the things he made you feel; and for you, for allowing them to grow and fester in your heart.

He seemed to like it, though, hips bucking to meet yours, breathless sounds leaving his lips as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“You like this, don't you?” You marveled, “Like it rough, boy?”

It wasn't your old ‘baby boy’, the one that belied your tenderness as you did the most depraved things to him. But it was close enough to get his heart racing.

“Pathetic” You decided, as you felt his pulse pick up under your hand. He whimpered, tears pricking at his eyes, and at last, you let go of his neck, placing both hands flat on his muscular chest for leverage. It wasn’t long before you were breathless too, as taking his cock became easier and easier with every downward stroke.

“Shit... I’ll give it to you, spidey… your dick feels amazing…” You gasped, little frown of concentration on your face, lips parted, unable to contain your little moans. How could he ever let you go, when you were the most exquisite thing Peter had witnessed in his whole life?

“Too much for you, little spider?” He could do nothing but sob as you teased him, cruelly, tightening your muscles around him “...Or not enough?”

You leaned forward, tracing your tongue over his open lips, but quickly withdrawing when he tried to capture yours in a kiss. You changed your pace, no longer bouncing but rocking on top of him, grinding your clit against his pelvis, enjoying the electricity that the friction created on your little pearl of nerves.

Meanwhile, Peter was a mess underneath you, tears now flowing freely, whimpering, and shaking, fisting the fabric of your skirt so hard that you heard it rip. But still not daring to complain.

“You're such a good boy, aren't you? Could do anything I want with you… use you anyway I wanted to…”

You felt him twitch inside you at your words, another whine escaping his chest.

“I could ruin you, ride you so hard… get you so close… and stop right before you come”

He shook his head frantically, desperate, but still, he kept silent.

“You don't want that? But you'd take it anyway, wouldn't you?”

He closed his eyes, unable to meet yours, ashamed. That was all the answer you needed,

“You would. Because you are mine… my pretty toy… to use… to fuck…” You picked up your pace, bouncing up and down his cock, and he couldn't contain himself anymore,

“Yes!” He cried, “I’m yours! All yours!”

“My slutty boy” You praised, legs burning with the strain and exhaustion of the night, but stopping was not an option. You were close, drunk on the power of having such a strong superhuman submitting to you, such a gorgeous man turned into a needy, desperate puddle between your legs.

“Please” He begged, pitifully.

“What do you need, little boy?”

His fingers closed around your wrist, guiding your hand until it was back around his neck, and you understood. You could have mocked him again, humiliated him farther, make him beg for it. But something inside his coffee eyes stopped you. It wasn't trust, no. You could practically smell the fear, the sharp tang of epinephrine coming off his pores, every hair on his body still standing on end, proof of his spider sense still on high alert…

No. It was deeper than that. It was surrender. He knew you could as easily give him what he wanted, as turn on him. Never, not even back it that farm, had been more evident to him that the hand he loved to hold was a weapon.

But he couldn't help never wanting to let go.

“Я тебя люблю” He croaked, throat dry and sore from your manhandling, but still clear enough to make your hips falter.

“What did you just say?” You breathed, stunned.

“Я тебя люблю” He repeated, more clearly, hands sliding up your thighs, till he had handfuls of your ass, “I love you…”

“Shut up” You hissed.

“I won't. I love you” Peter felt as your nails dug on his chest, until he had five bloody crescent marks to match the ones on his back, “I love you…”

You squeezed his neck harder, until he was really struggling for air, black spots dancing in his vision.

“I love you” It was nothing but a gasp.

You made a frustrated noise, but there was no denying the way your walls fluttered around him. And there was no stopping your hips, working him ferociously, fucking yourself on his cock without mercy. You were falling already, falling apart for him.

“Come with me” It was a command. It was a request. It was an invitation.

And Peter knew you weren't just talking about his release.

To be continued...

[groggiie]

Bee Movie Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Bee Movie script is here for all you fans of the Jerry Seinfeld animated movie. This puppy is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of the movie to get the dialogue. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and all that jazz, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. At least you'll have some Bee Movie quotes (or even a monologue or two) to annoy your coworkers with in the meantime, right?

And swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards -- because reading is good for your noodle. Better than Farmville, anyway.

Bee Movie Script

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things

work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All

right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for

that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not?

- It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane!

You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label

on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so

difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer,

have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta

weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke

machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the

last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble.

We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen,

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

oph my god

[chicgeekgirl89]

The Way Our Horizons Meet: Chapter 4

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes

Summary: Carlos' perspective through the aftermath of T.K.'s shooting. Follows the events of episodes 1x08-1x10.

A/N: I had a few requests to write T.K. and Carlos’ conversation about what happened in New York. Hopefully I did it justice!

CW: Mentions of past drug use, overdosing, suicide (just mentioned, not attempted)

Read Chapters 1-3 on AO3

Carlos woke slowly in the morning. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains and he frowned trying to get his bearings; usually he was up before the sun, even on his days off. He liked to get a workout in early, before the day had really started. He shifted in the bed, wincing when he realized his left arm was full of pins and needles.

Blinking his eyes open fully he came face to face with T.K.’s sleeping form. Carlos’ mouth slowly curved into a smile. It had been a long time since he’d woken up to someone else in his bed. Even longer since it had been someone he really cared about. 

Carlos watched him for a moment, just taking it all in. T.K. was lying on his back, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling slowly. Last night had been…perfect, was the word that came to mind. There had been nothing between them anymore, nothing standing in the way of their feelings for one another, and they had spent many hours making that clear.

His arm was trapped underneath T.K.’s pillow, hence the numbness running all the way up to his shoulder. He didn’t want to wake his sleeping boyfriend (wow it felt good to call him that), but his arm was starting to tingle painfully. Slowly he attempted to ease it out from under T.K.’s head. Despited his best efforts, T.K. immediately began to stir, inhaling sharply and opening his eyes. “Hey,” he said, voice rough with sleep as he rolled onto his side to face Carlos, allowing him to free his arm completely.

“Hey,” Carlos said fondly, flexing his fingers as feeling began to return. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay.” T.K. smiled sleepily. 

“Did you sleep all right?”

“Mhmm,” T.K. said as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Carlos’. “Did you?”

“It was…the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while,” Carlos said honestly. 

“Well,” T.K. grinned lazily at him, “we were pretty enthusiastic when we got back here last night. You were probably exhausted.”

Carlos grinned back, running a hand down T.K.’s side, resting it on his hip as memories of the night before flitted through his brain. They’d had to get a little creative considering T.K.’s stitches situation. He didn’t seem any worse for the wear though. “I think I was.”

T.K. looked a little more awake now, his eyes glinting with that look he got when he wanted something. Carlos liked that he knew what so many of T.K.’s different looks meant now. “Are you still exhausted?” he asked, voice low.

His fingers trailed slowly down Carlos’ spine, causing him to shiver. “Not in the least.”

“Good.” T.K.’s mouth was on his in an instant, hungry, searching, and Carlos lost himself in the kiss as they picked up where they’d left off the night before.

It was an hour later that they both lay in the bed, T.K.’s head pillowed on Carlos’ chest. “I like waking up with you,” he said quietly. 

T.K. didn’t say anything for a long moment and Carlos felt the certainty and bliss of the last few hours stutter in his chest. He thought they’d finally been on the same page, but maybe…

His hand fell back to the bed as T.K. abruptly sat up, determination on his face. The sheets twisted around his waist as he crossed his legs and looked seriously at Carlos. “I want you to know what happened in New York.”

Carlos pushed himself up on his elbow, reaching his free hand out to touch T.K.’s knee. “You don’t have to. There’s no pressure. You can tell me now or never, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I know,” T.K. cupped Carlos’ face in his hand and stroked his thumb across his cheek, his gaze fierce. “And that’s why you deserve to know. If we’re going to give this a shot, you should know everything.”

“Okay,” Carlos said softly, mentally bracing himself. Based on what little he did know, he didn’t think this would be easy to hear.

T.K.’s eyes fell to the bed as he collected his thoughts. “I had only been clean again for about six months when I met Alex. I was at a friend’s birthday party, testing my sobriety in a way I probably shouldn’t have been. Someone introduced us, and we hit it off right away. I realized later the whole thing was a setup. But I was okay with it because Alex was charming and fun and I was so desperate to get my life back on track. He was stable, had a good job, knew where he was going in life; he was everything I wasn’t.

“We were together a little over two years and it was good. We didn’t fight or have problems. I just…didn’t see who he really was until it was too late.” T.K. swallowed hard and twisted his fingers into the sheets. “I loved him. I really did. I wanted to marry him. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.”

He laughed ruefully and shook his head. “My dad never liked him. My mom did, but my mom likes anyone I like. My dad…he didn’t say anything outright but I could tell. And even if he had said something I probably wouldn’t have listened. I’m uh, I’m kind of stubborn.”

“I’ve noticed,” Carlos said with a smile. 

T.K. smiled sheepishly. “Yeah well, sometimes it’s for the better and sometimes not so much.” His face fell a little. “I had it all set up. Dinner at this fancy place, I was going to propose right before dessert. So cliché, but that’s what I was going to do.” T.K. gave a humorless laugh. “And when he got there I got so excited and I just couldn’t wait. I pulled out the ring and started to get down on one knee and he stopped me. Grabbed my arm and told me to sit down.”

T.K.’s jaw worked and Carlos could tell tears were near the surface. “Hey,” he said, sitting up so they were eye to eye. “Take your time.”

T.K. nodded gratefully and blew out a shaky breath. “He’d been cheating on me. With his spin instructor. They were in love. Now I wonder if the spin instructor was even the first. There were times he seemed distant, and then a couple months would go by and he would be all attentive and sweet again. I think there might have been others, I don’t know. I didn’t ask.

“I had never felt so stupid. Like it was my fault. If I had just been better, done more then he wouldn’t have had to cheat. And I should have seen it. I just wanted so desperately to tick all the boxes that proved I was doing the right thing in my life that I didn’t see any of the warning signs until after the fact.”

T.K. rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, no longer able to meet Carlos’ gaze. “I knew where to get pills fast. So I left the restaurant and I picked up some Oxy and went home. I didn’t even try to stop myself. I just did what I do best in a personal crisis: completely self destruct.”

Carlos’ heart picked up its pace. He knew where this was going, knew that this story ended with them here, together in bed right now, but that didn’t make it easier to hear. 

T.K. cleared his throat. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I just…wanted it all to go away. The thought of being left, of not being enough…it eats away at you until it’s all you can think about.”

He shook his head. “I took a few and when that wasn’t enough I took a few more and then a few more. And the next thing I knew I was on the floor, puking my guts out, with my dad and his crew picking up my pieces. It wasn’t my first overdose, but it was the closest I’ve ever come to…if they’d been even a minute later…”

Carlos felt his throat growing tight. He’d come so close to losing T.K. before he’d ever even known him. The thought made him oddly protective. He wished he could somehow reach into the past and keep T.K. from ever knowing such incredible hurt.

“My dad didn’t report it, not the way he should have. If he had I would have been fired,” T.K. said, his voice breaking a little as he spoke. “He basically took control of everything and told me to pack my stuff. Because of me he uprooted his whole life and dragged us here.”

He looked up nervously, trying to judge Carlos’ reaction. “You know the rest.”

“You were right,” Carlos said softly. “That is messy.”

“It’s a lot, I know,” T.K. said quickly. “I just…I want you to understand why some things might be hard for me. I fell so hard and so fast last time and I can’t take risks like that again. My dad, he needs me, now more than ever. I can’t do anything to put my sobriety in jeopardy. And I realize this,” he gestured to the disheveled bedding and their naked bodies, “doesn’t exactly look like going slow, but as far as feelings and stuff like that go…”

“Hey,” Carlos put a hand on his knee, “I will never pressure you into anything you don’t want. We’re in this together.” He looked T.K. directly in the eye. “And I want to be really clear here; you can trust me. Always. It’s going to take time for you to see that, for us to build that trust together, but you can. And any mistakes I make along the way are mine and mine only, not a reflection of you.”

T.K. looked at him for a long moment, a hand coming up to softly touch Carlos’ face. “You’re so ridiculously perfect.”

Carlos shifted, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“Well it must be true then,” T.K. said with a smile.

“That is…incredibly sweet,” Carlos said. “But if this is going to work, you can’t put me on a pedestal like that. The only place for me to go is down.” He slid his fingers between T.K.’s. “You and I are the same; flawed, human. I am not some…god among men, now matter how much I might want to be. I have my stuff too. Which I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

“You can’t possibly have baggage like I do,” T.K. said, leaning back against the pillows.

Carlos shrugged. “Yours might be more obvious, but mine could be worse. You have to watch out for the quiet ones, isn’t that what they say?”

T.K. raised his eyebrows and smirked. “You certainly weren’t quiet last night.”

Carlos threw a pillow at him, which T.K. easily deflected. Carlos shook his head, but he smiled. “That is not what we’re talking about.” His face grew serious. “If this is going to work you have to love me for who I am, not some idealized version of me.”

T.K. blinked at him for a moment. “Love you?”

Carlos’ cheeks flamed and he rushed to take back the word that had slipped off of his stupid, besotted tongue. “I didn’t mean—I—“

T.K. laughed. “It’s okay, Carlos.”

“No, I’m sorry. You just poured your heart out and I can’t keep my damn mouth shut—”

“Carlos,” T.K. leaned forward and kissed him, effectively cutting off his apology. “It’s okay.” He traced his fingers down Carlos’ cheek. “I may not be ready to say that word yet. But I am ready to be with you.” He brushed a kiss over Carlos’ nose. “And I like you,” he kissed his cheek. “Very,” his ear. “Very,” his neck. “Much.”

They were falling back into the bed again, limbs tangling, lips finding bare skin. They clearly had so much more to talk about, but for now, what they’d said was enough. If this was love, it would find them the time to take care of the rest.

[sortasirius]

Programing The Winter Soldier

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, heavy angst, this is seriously big sad hours

AN: This is so very sad and I definitely cried writing it lmao.  I love Bucky Barnes so much. 

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Words: 3873

Read it on AO3 here

January 23, 1945

General,

Sgt. Barnes has undergone an initial mind wipe.  Dr. Zola has succeeded in attaching the weapon to his shoulder.  He has been put in the cryo-chamber as a test, and after some initial pain it looks as though it has worked.

We will begin reprogramming shortly.

Longing

Bucky wakes up in pain.  His arm hurts.  After a few moments of long, deep breaths where he decides he’s not, in fact, dead, he tries, experimentally, to move his fingers.  To his relief, he finds he can, but something feels different, wrong.  The clicking in his index finger, from where he had broken it when he was twelve defending Steve from some guy he had tried to fight in an alley after the creep had tried to grab at a woman on the street, was gone.  The pain is gone there too, in fact he can’t feel anything below the burning where his shoulder meets something cold, something foreign.

He tries to look around, but it’s pitch black wherever he is.  It’s also brutally fucking cold.  He shivers violently, trying to get away from whatever cold metal is touching his skin, but no matter how far he leans, he can’t seem to get away from it.

Suddenly, without warning, fluorescent lights above him burst into life, and Bucky screws his eyes up against the sudden brightness.  Blinking away the mild pain, he sees a man he vaguely recognizes coming toward him.  He’s a shorter man, wearing round glasses…

Like another switch flipped, Bucky suddenly remembers this man, remembers a saw taken to the shattered remains of his arm, remembers being tied down, with a rag stuffed in his mouth to keep him from biting off his own tongue.  He remembers the arm that doesn’t belong to him attached to his left side.  He remembers throwing someone across the room as though he was weightless.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the man looks him up and down, ignoring the way Bucky shied openly away from his gaze, “Let us begin.”

They don’t release Bucky from the restraints while the doctor, Zola, measures him from head to toe, has him flex his new arm, takes his blood pressure and heart rate, checks him for infection.  He only occasionally stops to speak to an assistant, who all keep their distance from Bucky, or say something in German to a soldier watching everything.  He makes Bucky watch a grainy video of ever-changing shapes, and sticks him painfully with a needle whenever he tries to look away.

“Now Sergeant,” Zola addresses him after nearly an hour of poking and prodding, “Can you tell me a memory of yours?”

Bucky doesn’t even consider, just says the first thing that comes into his brain.  Whatever this guy wants, it’s going to be easiest to just give it to him.

“Steve and I were walking along Rockaway beach two years ago.  I remember it was nearly dusk, summer, we were watching the sunset and Steve brought some bread to feed the birds.  I remember they were swarming us, you show them any kind of food and they all come swooping in.  Steve kept laughing because they were trying to land on me.  I remember the smile on his face and his eyes matched the water.  It was the first time he really laughed since his mother had died.  He told me later that he really needed that laugh.”

Zola looks at one of his assistants and gestures to the red book on the table next to him.

“First word: Longing.”

March 10, 1945

General,

We have had limited success reprogramming Barnes so far.  Zola has been working extensively with him, and while we are now seeing less incidents of outward aggression to staff or soldiers, his rate of noncompliance has skyrocketed.

Please advise on any alternate methods we should attempt.

Rusted

Bucky tries not to think about his new normal, but the repetition of each day makes that difficult.

Each morning, he’s awoken by a prison alarm and the instantaneous switching on of all the lights in his cell, followed immediately by his first meal of the day served through a slot in the door.  Steel door, reinforced, at least four feet thick.  Even the new arm doesn’t make much of a dent in it, though he’s tried.  God knows, he’s tried.

After breakfast he’s led to the combat cage where he meets with Zola, before being led through drills that he must comply with.  Noncompliance leads to pain.  Stepping out of line leads to pain.  Not eating leads to pain.  Not answering a question leads to pain.  His whole life revolves around inflicting pain and trying not to get pain inflicted on him.

On bad days, when he’s been too slow or asked one too many questions, they wipe him before lunch.  He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.  There is nothing else to say.  It’s beyond unbearable.

On good days, they’d give him lunch and Zola would run his usual tests.  Ask him about a memory, ask him about his family, his parents, his sister, his friends.  For some reason, it always came back to Steve.  Every time, no matter how Bucky tried to steer his brain away from him, it always came back to Steve.

This time he tells Zola about an old motorcycle they had rescued from the junkyard one summer.  It was more scrap metal than anything, rusted out from the wind and the rain and the New York winter it had suffered through outdoors, but they had scraped together pennies from odd jobs and had gotten it to run again.  It was a blast, to go zipping through the streets of Brooklyn in the dead of night, looking for trouble or whatever they could find, having to stop what felt like every ten minutes to fix some part that had fallen off or sprung a leak.  A total hassle, but totally worth it.

After his tests, Zola would send him back to the unnamed soldier who was responsible for his physical activity, this time to put him against enemies.  In the beginning, Bucky would refuse to fight them, but in his new quest of not putting himself through more pain if he could help it, he had started obeying the commands given to him, even if that meant using the strange attachment to his body that he hated looking at, that was welded to his skin, the burned and tortured flesh above it just a reminder that he used to be fully human.

After his second round of drills, they either send him to bed and give him dinner an hour later, or they put him in cryo.  He longs for the cold metal of the room they keep him in on the nights when he goes to cryo.

It’s the same every single day.

Zola starts saying a new word to him: Rusted.

May 7, 1945

General,

After three weeks, Barnes’ hunger strike has ended.  He can barely stand anymore, let alone lift the arm, but he is willing to eat.  Zola has suggested that we put him back in cryo and get his weight up so he can at least stand.  Your suggestion of a controlled shock each time he refused to eat worked perfectly, we always appreciate your input in the construction of our new weapon.

Seventeen

They let him out of cryo after what they tell him is four weeks.  When he looks down at himself, he can’t see his ribs or the sharp definition of his hipbones anymore.  They make sure he can stand, that he can punch, that he can shoot a gun.  They work on the strength of the punch.  Zola is angry that it’s been weakened.

The hunger strike was a stupid idea, it was too much like what Steve would have done, and Bucky would never be Steve, or be with Steve, no matter how much he would like to.

His body is littered with burn marks from the shocks they gave him when he wouldn’t eat, and Bucky winces at the memory of the pain, the memory of his body seizing up and being outside his control.  He supposes he should be used to the out-of-control thing by now, but he isn’t, he can’t, because then he’d really have lost.

Bucky hates cryo, he hates cryo almost more than he hates the mind wipe, because at least when his mind was wiped he could still dream.  They couldn’t control what he dreamed about, and they didn’t know what he dreamed about.  Rather, they never asked him what he dreamed about, therefore they didn’t know.

Bucky thinks about his last dream, the one where he and Steve were on a beach somewhere.  Not the Northeast, somewhere tropical, maybe California.  They have their toes in the sand and Steve remarks that the sand is so hot here, how do people walk on sand this hot?

“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola breaks him out of his thoughts, “Tell me why you stopped eating.”

Bucky looks up at him, he’s so tired.  He doesn’t want to fight anymore but he has to, the skinny little kid from Brooklyn with blue eyes and a blinding smile would want him to.

“When I was seventeen my family couldn’t afford food for the week,” the words pour out of him of their own volition, and he’s too tired to stop them, “Dad was out of work, we were desperate.  Steve and his mom brought over dinner and made us keep the leftovers.  It was a pot roast, best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t want to be a weapon.  I don’t want to be your weapon.”

Zola leans back and considers him.  A smile spreads across his face.

“What you want doesn’t matter.  It never did.”

Bucky wants to hit him with the weapon on his left.  He wants it more than anything.  But he can’t.  He’s not allowed.  He really just is a lapdog for them now.

Zola adds a word the next day: Seventeen.

June 15, 1945

General,

It has been noted recently that Barnes is unwilling to lash out or attack any combatants that fit the following profile: blond, blue eyes, male.  Zola has insisted this weakness is an asset in his reprogramming and that it will not last.  We have brought in two soldiers that match this profile at Zola’s request, I will report any findings.

Daybreak

He’s not Steve, Bucky tells himself over and over as the handsome blond solider smiles at him when he brings him his dinner.  They open the door now, just so Bucky can see the man clearly, just so he can see his smile and the slight edge to his light blue eyes.  They’re lighter than Steve’s but something in Bucky simply doesn’t care anymore.  The eyes were wrong but they were something he could cling to.  The hair was just a shade too dark but it reminded him of a different time.  The smile was just a little too wide, but he remembered one that was a little softer, a little more slanted.

“I remember watching the sun rise in Germany during the war,” Bucky tells Zola blankly in their meeting that day, so used to the stab of the needle in his skin that he doesn’t even feel it, “Steve told me his favorite time of day was this early in the morning, right at daybreak.  He told me that before, too, before he was Captain America, but we got to just sit quietly and watch it, watch the colors.  I don’t remember them.”

“Very good,” Zola stands, beckoning to the blond solider to take Bucky to his next assignment.

Bucky walks along silently, head held high as he approaches the cage, where a larger soldier is waiting for him, outfitted head to toe in combat gear.  Shouldn’t be a problem.

“Soldat,” Zola stares through the bars of the combat cage minutes later, where Bucky has paused, fist raised above the quivering man in front of him, “Don’t hesitate, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your audience.”

Bucky looks over to Zola, the blond soldier who smiled at him the night before is watching.

Zola’s right, he can’t disappoint him.

“New word,” Zola mutters as Bucky straightens up, shaking his hand to get rid of the red on the metal knuckles, “Daybreak.”

July 4, 1945

General,

Barnes had an unfortunate breakthrough during today’s training.  He seemed to remember something from prior to his fall and was unable to complete the mission set in front of him.  I am becoming frustrated with Zola, he insists that this is all part of the process, that to break a man down there will be moments of pure weakness, but Barnes is looking less and less like the man we thought he was.

Furnace

Steve is the only thing he thinks of when he has a clear mind anymore.

He doesn’t remember little details of his memory anymore, but he remembers Steve.  He doesn’t remember his birthday, but he knows when Steve’s is.  He doesn’t remember the smell of spring in Central Park, but he remembers the way Steve wore newspapers in his shoes.  No matter what, he knows Steve.

Zola knows this, he uses it against him.  Every day, the talks get longer, the punishments get more painful, and the amount of times he’s wiped go up.

“Tell me a memory,” it feels like Zola’s asked this a thousand times now.

“Steve’s furnace in his building broke last winter.  We had him over for two weeks until the landlord could be bothered to fix it.  Mom loves him so much, she would have him around all the time if he’d let her.  He always thinks he can do everything himself.”

“You speak of him as if he’s here.  Why?”

“I don’t know.”

That’s the truth.

Zola adds Furnace to the list of Bucky’s words.  He can feel himself slipping away every time they’re uttered.

August 12, 1945

General,

Thank you for your visit last week.  Your insight into our project is much appreciated.  I agree that we must continue to press on, we have no put so much man power and energy into the project it would be a shame to shut it down now.  Zola believes that we are close to a breakthrough, despite occasional noncompliance by Barnes.

Nine

It’s starting to get harder and harder to fight against the constant onslaught of change they were forcing on his mind.

He can’t dream anymore, so the cryo chamber at least lets him rest, because the only dreams he has are dark and shadowy.  He’s losing his already tenuous grip on himself, his memories becoming indistinct, with only a few bright spots left to cling to in his mind.

“Tell me a memory.”

It takes him a second to think of one.  He cowers as Zola stands over him.

“When I was nine we went on a field trip to the Met.  Steve made me read all the little cards next to the paintings, even though it made us lag behind everyone else.”

“Do you still think of him?”

Always.

“No.”

“Good.  Add Nine.”

September 1, 1945

General,

Zola chose to move forward with giving Barnes the news of Steve Rogers’ death last week.  So far, it has proven an excellent tactic in breaking his resolve.  After an initial disruption in his usual pattern of behavior (consisting of a violent outburst that left his entire holding cell destroyed followed by a complete emotional collapse), Barnes has been much more compliant in the process.

I believe we may be close to a breakthrough.

Benign

Bucky has been unmade, strand by strand, bit by bit, atom by atom, he has been unmade and put back together for the purposes of following orders, of being a human weapon of mass destruction.  There has been so much pain in his unmaking, so much unrelenting physical and mental pain from being ripped apart and put back together over and over and over again.

And yet, none of that pain was like the pain of knowing that Steve Rogers was dead.

Bucky would take it all over again, spend a thousand lifetimes in this room, in the cell, in the combat cage, in the cryo chamber, having his mind wiped like a problem on a chalkboard just so he could unlearn that Steve was dead.

Zola is the one that tells him.  He shows him a newspaper in English, then Russian, then German, all with the same headline: Captain America Dead!

Bucky feels like a feather caught in a windstorm, torn to shreds by the whipping downdraft of mother nature’s power, by the power of his own grief.

Bucky knows better than to move while Zola is in the room, but the second that he leaves, the rage, red, blind, hot, overtakes him, and he uses the weapon attached to him, which has become a part of him, to destroy everything he can.  The metal table, reinforced with steel, comes apart like wet paper in his hand.  He destroys the sink, leaving nothing but powdered ceramic and plumbing hookups behind.  He gouges marks into the walls with his fingers, he slams his arm onto the floor.  And then?  He collapses in the middle of the cold metal room with his cold metal arm, just a cold metal soldier who’s lost the only reason he wanted to get out of here, to stay who he was.

“Come on Buck, we don’t have to do this.”

“When was the last time we snuck into a Dodgers game?  It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Steve rolls his eyes, pausing as they waited to cross the street to cough into his jacket.  Bucky, almost subconsciously pats his jacket pockets.  Good, he’s got an extra one of Steve’s inhalers in case it’s a bad night for his asthma.

“Come on Steve,” Bucky nudges his shoulder as they approach the stadium, “I know it’s been hard recently, but hey, at least we have baseball.”

Steve laughs at that, and gives Bucky an almost radiant smile.  Whatever it was, it makes Bucky feel like he has the sun in his chest.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a date,” Steve jokes as they sneak in behind an older couple, heading up to their favorite spot to watch the game.

“Who says it isn’t?” Bucky is glad his face is hidden in shadow as they make their way up the stairs of the stadium to the very back row, “But don’t think I’m gonna buy you a hotdog or anything.”

“Come on, what kind of girl pays for her own hotdog?” Steve winks at him, and Bucky can’t hide his wide smile at the words that settle themselves right in the middle of his beating heart.

“Soldat.  Stand up,” Zola’s voice comes through the speaker, and Bucky can’t comply, he tries, but he’s crushed by the weight of the loss of Steve Rogers, the only person that could pull him out of this, that could undo the work of HYDRA that had been inflicted on his mind and body.

He hears the stomping of boots outside the door, but he still can’t stand, he still can’t make himself be the good lapdog he’s supposed to be.  He’s broken, empty, unusable, unloveable.

“Steve,” Bucky gasps, not even thinking about fighting as the soldiers pull him up to standing.

Zola’s voice comes over the little speaker they have in the room, the one that Bucky couldn’t reach to rip to pieces.

“Next word: Benign”

October 29, 1945

General,

Zola had a long conversation with Barnes today.  The loss of Steve Rogers is still affecting him.  Zola tells me he has a plan, that our work is almost finished.

Homecoming

They take him to the combat cage again.  There’s someone waiting for him.

“We have a test for you today,” Zola swings the door open, and he sees that it’s the blond soldier who reminds him of Steve, tied up and bound and already bloody.

Bucky takes a step forward, staring at the terrified man.  He feels something, he can’t identify what it is.

“Tell me a memory.”

Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off of the soldier as he speaks.

“When Steve brought us back from the HYDRA base, they called it our homecoming.  I wasn’t used to him yet, him being taller than me, being okay with being the center of attention.  I wasn’t used to him being different.  But sometimes I saw flashes of the old Steve, when he looked at me, when he was drawing on a scrap of a napkin, when he made a joke that everyone laughed at.  And then, sometimes I thought he forgot about me.  He didn’t need me anymore.”

He looks down at the soldier.

“Kill him, soldat,” Zola tells him, “You don’t need him.  You never did.”

The cowering blond soldier might as well be Steve, Bucky can’t tell the difference anymore.  He snaps his neck anyway, pretending that he doesn’t feel the shattered remains of his heart split just a little bit more.

“New word: Homecoming.”

December 15, 1945

General,

Only a few more weeks I believe, Barnes has become more and more compliant, completing missions with ease and without hesitation.  We put him in front of a live target yesterday, the man captured at the border three weeks ago.  Barnes did not even seem to hear his pleas, even though we have been assured he can hear and understand them.

One

He kills easily now.  He does it without thinking.

“Tell me a memory.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Good.  Add One.”

January 23, 1946

General,

Congratulations.  The asset is ready to begin service.

Freight Car

The Winter Solider does not hesitate.  He does not disobey orders.  He pulls the trigger as easy as breathing.  He’s a ghost story, a legend, the new fist of HYDRA.

Zola speaks to him, he answers.  A soldier speaks to him, he answers.

“There is one last word to add,” Zola tells him, walking around where he stands, straight, like a steel rod.  He’s more metal than man now, anyway, “Tell me about the day you fell.”

“I ziplined onto a freight car.  I took out the targets.  I fell.  I was found by HYDRA.”

Steve was there.  He tried to save me.  We joked about Coney Island.  I miss him, I wish I was with him.  I wish I had died when I fell.  I wish I could just be Bucky.  I don’t want to be a weapon, I just want to be Bucky.

“Very good, soldat.  Final word: Freight Car.”

As each word is read, Bucky departs his mind, taken over by The Winter Solider.  Each word takes away a layer of memory, a layer of who he was, who he had fought so hard to stay.  Now it doesn’t take weeks of time, or months, to unmake him.  All it takes is ten words, ten words that connect him completely to Bucky Barnes, yet somehow, ten words that remove him altogether.

Zola finishes the list.  Bucky Barnes is long, long gone.

“Ready to comply.”

[pizza-soup]

Sorry I've been missing in action.

Long story short I got very injured at the labs, but I've been making a fast recovery. For the more detailed, graphic version, you can read below. Warning: Mention of hospital, blood, car accident.

As I mentioned, I got really injured at work beginning on February 21 at around 9 PM. It was during a routine check at some of the sites, one in particular needed our higher clearance because there had been a breach at a fence that past week, so I, and two other guards went to check out any tampering of the fence again. They say it might be vandals but a lot of them say it was some kind of large animal. The road to those sites are a single path through the woods, lit with a few lights, no curves, just a flat road with a hill on one side. It hadn't snowed that week either, so no fear of ice or anything. It was just a routine jeep trek.

It happened so fast. Our vehicle was knocked over, I'm not even sure how, but we were rolling in the dark down a hill, hitting trees. I remember the shouting, holding fast, and the glass. I remember crawling toward a tree and trying to sit up against it or maybe I was put there by the other guard, Dolores, I remember her telling me to stay awake. I asked her if I was dreaming. It didn't feel real. I asked what was happening to me because I couldn't move right, everything felt so slow and muffled. I passed out by the time they got us into the medical ward. I don't remember them putting me in a gown or putting in an IV. I woke up later, I buzzed the call button out of fear and pain. My whole left side was throbbing. A nurse was relieved I finally came to. She gave me pain meds and called the doctor in.

I was told there had been an accident, that much I already knew, but no one was killed, just injured. I lost a lot of blood, my uniform was soaked in it and they had to cut it off me. Part of the metal from the door frame folded in and pieced my left shoulder and I had minor cuts on my hands and arms from the glass. My blood pressure dropped so low they were scared my heart might've stopped. I was given blood, hooked up to a lot of things and I would have to stay under watch for a few days. There was a lot of tests they needed to do to figure out just how bad my injuries were.

For the next few days I was just sleeping, I couldn't sit up without feeling dizzy. I had to lay semi flat, my blood pressure was still very low. My left side was still throbbing and the stitches itched. A lot of bruises developed from being tossed around like I was, mostly on my arms because I was shielding my face and head. My minor glass cuts stung while batheing. Nurses came in every few hours to check my vitals, help me use the restroom, shower, help me eat, ect. I got so tired from the smallest things. I couldn't call anyone, my phone was in my locker. I finally got someone to help me call my brother to tell him what happened. My brother was naturally scared, he thought something happened to me and he was sad to know he was right. He wanted to see me, but he couldn't, I was in the medical ward on lab property. He wanted to call our mom to tell her but I told him to wait, there was a possibility that I might be transferred to a local hospital where they can visit me, and I didn't want her panicking and trying to drive up here in bad weather. It's best she waited til things cleared up.

After the first week I was transferred to a local hospital after getting a bunch of tests done. No brain trauma, no broken bones, no blood sugar issues or thyroid problems. I could sit up in bed by then and eat on my own. I still couldn't walk very well without feeling really dizzy, again, low blood pressure. A lot of minor bruises were fading away. I never had my anemia officially confirmed, but they confirmed it and had me take daily iron and placed on a blood building diet in the new hospital. I was tested for covid, I came out clear.

My brother and mom visited me daily, and the other doctor said I was recovering really quickly, that gave us a lot of hope. I could be out of there by a few days, though my blood pressure was worrying her. Seems it wasn't so much the blood loss, but that it might have been an underlying condition already linked to my untreated anemia. She would get the in-house dietitian to include a bit more natural sea salt to my iron rich diet, as well as tell me what I should eat at home and that I need to drink a lot more water than I normally did. This is a problem I've had for awhile, I forget to drink enough water. The doctor warned me I better remedy that immediately especially with low BP. My mom was already taking notes. She really wanted to just take me home already. I really liked her being there, I'm not that shy about my body, but I honestly felt better having my mom bathe me and comb my hair instead of strangers doing that. She was also a lot more gentle around my stitches and bruises.

Eventually I did come home, I still needed a lot of rest and help getting out of bed. I had to fight the urge to clean house, help with groceries, ect. I'm so used to being self sufficient. I felt so frustrated that just walking around the room would tire me out, when I'd hike for miles just a few months ago. I was tired of sleeping and sitting down. But there wasn't much else I could do. I did a lot of origami, my bro got me a coloring book, I watched a lot of movies, took my iron -which is nasty btw-, ate meals that were saltier than I normally would prepare but my taste buds would have to adjust. I was happy my new diet included a lot of fish though.

I did have some close calls. I really thought I could stand up in the shower instead of sitting, and wound up calling for my mom to help me up after collapsing. I collapsed again when I was trying to cook dinner for myself. My face, according to my mom, was drained of color and my breathing was shallow. I felt so dizzy and nauseated. She nearly wanted to call the hospital again. My bro said I was pushing myself too hard and I always had a problem with not asking for help. That I needed to learn to stop being so damn stubborn and rest. To anyone else, that sounds harsh, but he knows me way too well, probably better than our mom. I do have that problem, I do push myself too much. After that, I decided to be more patient with myself. I was sick and might be sick for awhile.

This week I'm doing a lot better. I can do my daily things now, I even went to get groceries and take a little walk to the river. But I can't over do it, I can't stand up or walk for too long, and I can't lift anything heavy, otherwise I get bouts of dizziness and need to sit down. The pain isn't as bad on my back anymore though it's still very sore, my arms, especially my left side, have a dull pain. I can't sleep on my back and left side, only my right and on my stomach. A lot of the cuts on the back of my arms and hands have scabbed over, minor bruises are gone but major ones on my shoulder and neck are still pretty dark and tender. I'm still finding glue spots on my chest and stomach from the medical tape and the EKG patches they put on me, but a bit of lotion is taking it off. My stitching, according to my mom, is definitely going to leave a pretty bad scar above my shoulder blade, but it's fine. My body has a lot of scars here and there from close calls, but I consider them ' Marks of Life'. They're proof I survived and thrived.

It'll take time for me to really feel like I'm back to normal. My mom refuses to go back home until I make a full recovery. She hasn't tended to me like this for a long time, mainly because I rarely get sick. I trait from my dad's side. We don't get colds or flus for years, no history of cancer, heart issues or diabetes, and his family usually remain active to their elderly years, not to mention our graceful aging. My dad used to say it was our native blood, we're just built tougher. The only thing that could kill us is getting injured like this. God, he'd be so worried about me though. I remember how he'd fuss over me when I skinned my knee as a child or got my allergies. If he was alive, he'd probably refuse to let me do anything out of bed, but then that's exactly what I should be doing anyway.

I got a report on the other guards health yesterday. Dolores and Elijah. She was the least hurt out of all of us, just a dislocated arm, mild whiplash, and some really bad glass cuts on her chest and arms, she's home recovering with her husband and kids. Elijah was the driver and got knocked unconscious with a bad concussion, his entire left arm was sliced by glass and metal, he lost a lot of blood like me and is recovering just as slow as I am. He opted to stay in the lab medical ward because he doubts his roommate can care for him at home, he's on a lot of pain meds, so he sounded distant on the phone. I think out of all of us, he's going to take the most time to recover. I told him I'd pray for him and if he wants, I can visit. He appreciated that a lot. I thanked Dolores for helping us that night, she was the one trying her best to keep us alive and sent the distress signal on our ARK devices so they could find us in the dark. Without her, I think we would've bled to death.

God, it feels like a distant nightmare. I still can't figure out how we were knocked off the road like that. Something hit us out there and it was strong. I felt the impact in the backseat, but I didn't see it. Dolores says it looked like a bear, but bears aren't that strong. Eli says he saw horns, so maybe a bison. Bison are that strong, especially against a little jeep. The incident is still under investigation. The lab is also very concerned about how this happened. It's possible the same thing that hit us, has been tampering with the fence.

One less thing to worry about is the hospital bill, the accident happened on lab grounds, everything is taken care of through them, probably because they don't want to get sued. They are giving us another two weeks before we report back in to the doctor for another round of tests and physical tests, as well as check to see if my stitches were still secure. Our return to work solely depends on our results, we may not be able to come back until late April. They really want to be sure we're okay. Because I'm an 'Ophanim' aka Tier 3 guard, I'll also be given a mental test before being hooked back into Selene. They just want to be sure there's no cognition issues and I can sync properly to her. I may have to do a refresher since I've been away for so long, but I'll worry about that when it comes.

Well, if you read this far, thanks. I hope I didn't scare you all too much. I am doing a lot a better though, I promise. I'm getting stronger everyday, though activity on this blog will be slow. Send me some prayers, good vibes, whatever. I'd really appreciate anything. Hope you've had a good month, better than mine hopefully.

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

I get it, Anon, I get it. All of the Pillars are alive. But, I'll be lying if I said I'm not mad at Muzan, but he's hot. And Muzan you is still a dick.

HEEE HEEE *MJ voices*

Overall, this is really fun to write!

Kibutsuji Muzan x Friendly!Reader (Domestic Taisho EraAU)

Let's say. Muzan didn't really care about the Pillars. He actually sickened by "Killing Muzan by Ubuyashiki: A Whole Plan" scenarios, but keep searching for Blue Spider Lily.

He didn't order his Upper and Lower Moons to kill the Pillars. Whatever, they could slay his minions, yadda yadda but he will not lay up his hand on the Pillars nor the Ubuyashikis.

The reason was simple.

You.

"Muzan, it's me!" Your cheerful voice was heard from the front door, he stopped everything he do and quickly rushed to you

"Good morning, (y/n)."

"Morning, Muzan!" You put your shoes on the shoe rack. "I will make breakfast, like always! What do you want, Muzan?"

"Everything you cook will be fine by me."

"Okay!"

He actually didn't need to eat that, but seeing you with your Demon Slayer uniform covered with apron every morning was really pleasant. Also your food is somehow great on his taste bud.

"Oh, thank you for the antidote! Shinobu-chan said that she wanted to know you, but since you said to not tell anyone, I came up with a reason!" You put rice on his bowl and gave it to him.

"And what kind of reason you give to that Shinobu?" He took that bowl and started to eat. Who the fuck is Shinobu, he thought.

"I said that I picked it somewhere on the ground!"

"That's the stupidest reason you could come out with. And she believed that?"

"I don't know, she just sighed and continued her works." Muzan chuckled. He usually stared at you eating, almost forgot his own food.

He remembered the first time he met you. He was hiding after he lose on his fight with Tanjirou and the Pillars at Ubiyashiki residence.

Muzan recognized you as one of the new Pillars and about to change his appearance but he was caught by you. He really thought he will be killed

But instead, you said, "Are you lost? Can I help you? You look pale."

Instead killing you on the spot for saying him 'pale, he's playing along with the role, told you that his name is Toshikuni Muzan and he's a doctor who had special disease that couldn't stand under the sun.

When he knew that you are new Pillar, he thought about taking advantage from you to gather information about Demon Slayers. He thought about turning you into demon, or abducting you from there.

But none of it was done.

Now, the whole plan is a mess. His intelligence and tactical thoughts are useless. He was simply enthralled by your own charm. He could read your mind, clearer than the sky. He never sense any animosity thorough your head. It's just cloud of full happiness and full of kind thought.

He fell, really hard, for you.

And you didn't realize because thanks to you, the demon races including Upper and Lower Moons were about to extinct because he didn't create them anymore. He simply ordered his only trusted demon and Upper Moons now, Kokushibou and Akaza, to searched Blue Spider Lily. The rest could fuck off.

And now, you became his 'personal assistant' including his lover.

After cleaning the plates, you headed out to headquarters to give daily reports.

"Where's my daily kiss?"

"Hm, what kiss?" You stood in front of the shoe rack, looking confused.

"Here." He pointed his cheek.

"But aren't that supposed to do by married couple?" You tilted your head.

"Aren't we going to be a married couple soon?"

"We are going to be?" You became more confused, it made Muzan infuriated but he hid it well. "Just once won't hurt, I guess."

You tip-toed and hold his shoulder, did a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Have a good day."

"Bye, see you on night!"

You didn't live with him because you still have sick dad and little sister at your home. He has offered you to stay at his house, along with your family but you refused since you didn't want to disturb his research.

When you don't have something to do on the headquarters or currently not training your students, you visited him again in the afternoon.

You usually asked him what he wanted to do, helping him or sometimes just sitting on his lab and reading some journals he made.

"How is your father? Did the medicine I made worked?" He asked while shaking his test tube slowly.

"Yes!" You jumped from your seat and ran towards his desk. "He felt so much better! Thanks to you, Muzan! I probably never find a kind doctor like you!"

"Well, that compliment seems super honest to me."

"Of course, I'm honest! Right! How should I pay you back?"

"Date with me, tonight."

"Whaaat?? Aren't we always dating at night? Well, except the day when I have mission."

"That's fine."

"If you insist, we'll go!"

He smiled again. You always succeeded on attempt to make him pleased, more than anyone else. It's just a simpel thing though, but he appreciated it.

After eat lunch, you took a seat on his sofa, doze off and take a nap there. Muzan joined you, sometimes he slept on your thighs, sometimes you slept on his shoulder when he reading his book.

"Muzan-sama, I came to-"

"Ssh." Muzan put his finger in front of his lips when he saw Akaza from the window.

"Ah." Akaza lowered his voice when he peeked up on Muzan's shoulder. "Miss (y/n) is here, I see. Excuse me."

He didn't want anyone to disturb your nap. Not after he saw your eye bags, plus scars here and there.

Well, should I ordered my remained demons to escape or don't attack her, he thought. He looked at you again. Wow, what an idiot expression.

"Mu... Zan... How about... Scaly... Skin..."

He wiped your drool, and smiled with the same idiot expression with you.

It really hits different when people were in love, indeed.

When night comes, your 'date' with him is started.

You will hold his hand and pulled him around on the way. The reason, again, is simple.

"I'm not really familiar around this city."

"Huh? Even though you live near here? No worries! I'll be your guide!" You showed him smug smile, and grabbed his hand.

If Douma was around, he probably laughed at you because he knew that Muzan could remember roads and places in the blink of eye.

But, no, he won't tell you the truth.

When you walked around, you usually bumped on your fellow Pillars.

"Tanjirou!!"

"(y/n)! How are you doing?" Tanjirou approached you with bright smile.

"I'm great!"

"Did you just go alone? I just got news from Kasugaigarasu about this place. There are demons, it's dangerous to walk around alone in this city."

"Huh, but I walked with Mu- I mean, Toshikuni-san, my- eh? Where did he go."

"Hm?"

"It- It's my acquaintance." You looked around like a chick lose its mother.

"I see. Anyway, please be careful."

"I will! Thank you, Tanjirou!"

After Tanjirou waved his hand, you looked for him. "Muzan! Muzan, where are you- whoa!" You almost slipped and someone caught your back in time.

"Careful there, lady."

"Muzan! Where have you been? I just meet one of the strongest Pillar, I wanted to introduce you to him."

"I didn't want to meddle with Pillars except you."

"Why is that?"

"By the way-" He put a red hairpin on your hair. You tapped your head, feeling something. "Perfect."

"Muuuu, you always bought me things when we're dating! The only things I ever gave to you were handmade omamori and knitted scarf. It's so unfair!" You light-hitting his chest, he just laughed while playfully fend your hand.

"That's the essential of dating." He patted your hair. "Let's go."

You're still grumpy but soon forget about that. Both of you continued your walk, from the square to a little bit quiet place.

"Oh, hi, grandpa!! How is your udon selling today?"

"Auntie, let me help you!"

"Girl, you look cute on that dress!"

Muzan rubbed his forehead. Are you really not knowing the concept of 'Minding your own business'?

"You're really friendly."

"These are the people who helped me!"

"Just a little help."

"It means a lot for me!"

"Hah, read the situations will you." He mumbled. He didn't really like her being so friendly towards other. It really pissed him off.

"Oh? Oh? Muzan, are you jealous?" You elbowed his ribs.

"Yes, so kiss me." He moved his face towards you. You hold his face down.

"Why is everything had to be resolve by kiss?! Muzan you-"

You suddenly stopped. The sense of demons lingered around your body.

"Muzan, back off." You unsheathed your hidden sword. "The demons are here. Tanjirou was right about the rumour."

You didn't waste your time. Not wanting the demons attacking first, you went to the direction where the demons were ready to kill you.

He just stood there while crossing his arms, smile proudly of his little baby slashing down numerous demons in no time.

Oh, what a poor demons, they probably wanted to report something to Muzan. But nah, he will just ask Akaza what happened

"Done! I'll give the reports thorough my crows later."

"What a reckless move." He wiped the blood on your cheek. "I see you're not hurt anywhere. Thank you for protecting me."

"Of course!"

"Let us continue our walk."

It's just both of you now, heading back to home.

"You see, Muzan. I might kill demon and all but..." You looked down and smiled vaguely. "I wonder what kind of life they had before they become demon. Is she a daughter? Future bride? A samurai? I don't know. But I always pray they will get a good life in the next reincarnation after I ended their life as a demon."

"Really? How thoughtful of you." He stopped and stood in front of his house.

"Yeah. So-" You looked at his eyes, grabbing his hand and clasped it gently. "I hope you could heal, I hope you could see the sun, feeling the warm dissipate into your body on our next life. I hope we could meet on our next life."

Again, he read your mind. Nothing. just pure thought about him being a complete healthy... Human. It's weird because he saw the human value inside you.

He didn't just fell for you, he was demolished by you to the ground.

Your sister sometimes told you to stay him at night because he seems lonely.

"Nee-chan, I will take care of father."

"But-"

"I'm a Demon Slayer too, count on me!"

"Well..."

"Toshikuni-san looks lonely in that big house, as his lover shouldn't you accompany him?"

Since there's no problem with it, sometimes you went to his house an sleep with him. When you do, he's really happy and always promised he didn't do anything weird towards you without your consent.

His bed was so big, unlike the futon on your house. After change into your bed robe, you likes to roll around without worry.

"You really like my bed?"

"Uh-hum." You put your cheek on his pillows. "It smelled like you."

"That's why I told you to move here." He positioned himself besides you. He tugged you into the blanket, kissed you on the forehead and brought you closer to his chest. He caressed your back until you fell asleep.

"Good night, Muzan."

"Good night, (y/n). Sweet dreams."

He didn't need sleep, he only need you to stay by his side.

Oh how he wish he went back to human again.

[the107thh]

Written for @starkly as a part of the Starker Kink Exchange 2020 ( @starkerkink) This was a ton of fun to write and I hope you love it! 💕

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark

Summary: He felt his cock twitch in the tight constrains of his jeans, a wave of nauseous arousal swelling in him at the thought. And that, well, that was new. Tony had certainly never thought about fucking his son before, but now that he was… and now that his son was Peter… there was something shamefully hot about the situation, about the thought of fucking his own kid. 

Tags: Incest, Parent/Child Incest, Accidental Incest, Established Relationship, Implied Age Difference, Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Spitting, Praise Kink, Wet & Messy, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Mild Size Kink, Coming Untouched

Read on AO3

Tony knew the rumors- he had heard the whispers, the murmured implications about his and Peter’s relationship. He’d been in the spotlight for too long to miss it, to be blind to what others said about him. But he also knew how to ignore it. Too much had been said about Tony Stark throughout his life, too many nasty, hurtful things, for the little rumors to affect him any more.

Peter, though, he was new to this. Sweet, doe-eyed Peter had never experienced the vitriol that an angry reporter could come up with, or the baseless accusations that a paparazzo would hurl to get a reaction, and those same whispers hurt him, hit him somewhere deep.

That was what made Tony do it, had made him anonymously send off a sample of their saliva to be DNA tested. He would do anything to protect Peter… and this seemed like the next natural step.

Because it wasn’t just their age gap that had caught the press’ attention, it was that coupled with Tony’s practically unaccounted for, but certainly promiscuous, twenties. Their matching brown eyes didn’t help, and neither did the distinctive slope of their noses, or any other of a million traits that the press had pointed out.

The evidence was damn near undeniable, but Tony knew better. He would’ve known if he had a kid, if he’d gotten some girl pregnant. Plus, Mary Parker had been married, a good girl, and Tony didn’t fuck married women… most of the time. Either way, Peter wasn’t his kid, no matter how much he called the older man Daddy, and Tony was going to prove it.

He’d set the manila envelope on top of a dozen others scattered on his desk, unopened and waiting for Peter to arrive after his classes were over. Tony already felt guilty about sending the samples off without telling his boyfriend, and he figured the least he could do was have them open the results together.

So he waited.

He got lost in a million other projects that needed his attention, hunched over his desk and music blaring.

Soon enough, Tony’s concentration was broken by the quiet ding of the elevator, and Peter bounding into the workshop. He immediately went over to the older man, drawing him into a gentle embrace as he pressed their lips together.

“Hey sweetheart,” Tony murmured, pulling Peter closer and tightening his arms around the boy. “Gotta surprise for you.”

“Mm, yeah?” Peter replied, pulling back to make eye contact, smiling gently as he spoke, “Got a present for me?”

“Not quite,” Tony drew back, reluctantly breaking the embrace to reach for the manila envelope sitting innocuously on his desk, “Thought we could finally put those rumors to rest, get some reporters off our back.”

Peter chuckled, sliding the envelope open with one slim finger. He pulled out the results, skimming over the printed words before his face suddenly went pale.

“Tony… this, this isn’t funny,” Peter whispered, a splotchy flush rising on his cheeks.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Tony asked, brow furrowed in confusion at Peter’s reaction.

“It… it says you’re my Dad. That… that can’t be right.”

Tony grabbed the paper from Peter’s weak grasp, scanning his eyes over the paper- and- “Fuck.”

He looked up to see Peter staggering away from him, trembling as he moved towards the couch that sat in the middle of the workshop.

Peter sat down heavily, shock radiating from every pore. “You… you’re actually my dad,” He looked up at Tony, cheeks flushed and eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Baby-“ Tony began, voice low and hoarse, “It’s gonna be okay, we… we-“ But he didn’t know how to finish that sentence, didn’t know what exactly they were going to do. Because what did you do when you found out that your boyfriend, the man you love, the man you’ve been fucking, is actually your son?

He felt his cock twitch in the tight constrains of his jeans, a wave of nauseous arousal swelling in him at the thought. And that, well, that was new. Tony had certainly never thought about fucking his son before, but now that he was… and now that his son was Peter… there was something shamefully hot about the situation, about the thought of fucking his own kid.

But now certainly wasn’t the time to think about that, Peter was still hunched over on the couch, red faced and trembling, and Tony had to do something, anything, to fix it.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Tony murmured, moving to kneel at Peter’s feet. “It’s gonna be okay, we don’t have to tell anyone, we can just keep denying the rumors as best as we can.”

Peter nodded tremulously, still not daring to look up at the other man, so Tony did what he did best and kept rambling to fill the silence. “I love you, Pete, this isn’t going to change that. We can just keep doing what we have been, dating, and just… try to forget all of this.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Peter asked, voice quiet as he finally looked up at Tony. The older man’s heart stuttered in his chest, his whole body going cold with fear. “You… you want to break up with me?”

“No! Tony, God no. I mean…” Peter paused, clearing his throat nervously and reaching out for Tony’s hands, clutching them tightly within his own. “What if I don’t want to forget? What if I… like that you’re my Dad?”

Tony’s breath stutters again, but for a different reason this time, as he is suddenly, painfully, hard in his jeans. “You… you like that I’m your Dad?”

“I know it’s weird, I know… but, yeah?” The younger man shifts in his seat, but not nervously, like Tony had thought before… more like, like he was hard, like he was as desperate for it as Tony was. He could practically feel the tension filling the room, the mood changing as he shifted where he was kneeling. Before he could respond though, Peter kept talking.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it- it’s fucked up, I shouldn’t… be thinking like this, I just-“

“Peter, baby, it’s okay,” Tony interrupted, squeezing the young man’s hands tighter within his own.

“But it’s not!” Peter replied, frantic and breathy, “You probably think I’m some kind of… of freak, and I-“

And no, that’s not right, Peter’s freaking out, panicking, and Tony’s kneeling there hard in his jeans and he doesn’t know what else to say so instead of saying anything, he pulls Peter’s hand down, uncurling his fingers and pressing his hand into the stiffness of his cock.

Peter’s mouth closes with a snap, blinking confusedly as he stares up at Tony, “You…?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t… Maybe we shouldn’t be thinking like this, but I like it too, sweetheart,” Tony murmurs, pushing forward into the squeezing warmth of Peter’s, of his son’s, hand.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby,” Tony leaned forward, lips brushing against the curve of Peter’s ear as he whispered his next words to him. “Don’t know what it is, but I fucking love it, love the idea that you’re my son, that I’ve been fucking you with the cock that made you, and the whole goddamn time you’ve been calling me Daddy and we had no fucking clue.”

Peter moaned brokenly, twisting his head around to press his lips desperately against Tony’s, already needy and desperate as he melted into the kiss.

Tony returned the kiss viciously, licking and biting his way into Peter’s mouth as he pushed him to lay on the couch, pressing him into the cushions with his own weight.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Tony groaned, huffing out the words as he moved to bite along the tender skin of Peter’s neck, “Wanna get inside of you, wanna fuck that sweet little hole.”

“Please Daddy,” Peter mewled, pushing his hips up and into Tony’s, “‘M made for you, Daddy, made to take your cock.”

“Yeah you are baby boy, perfect little body, just for your Daddy- But that’s not what you wanna call me, is it? ‘Cause I’m not just your Daddy, am I, Pete?” Tony practically growled the words, pressing his hips down in a filthy grind that had Peter’s eyes rolling back in his head.

“Fuck,” Peter exclaimed, choking on the word as he twitched beneath the other man, already overwhelmed by sensation.

“Say it,” Tony murmured, lacing one hand into Peter’s hair, pulling his head back and forcing him to make eye contact, “Go on, baby, what do you wanna call me?”

The boy whined, clenching his eyes shut before choking out the words, “Dad, please, fuck me!”

“That’s it,” Tony growled, sinking his teeth into the tender expanse of skin between Peter’s shoulder and neck, “Beg for your Dad’s dick, baby, beg for the cock that made you.” He ran broad hands up the Peter’s sides, slipping them under his shirt and pulling, tugging until it was off, and Peter’s chest was bared beneath him.

He immediately turned his attention to the delicate buds of Peter’s nipples, sucking the left one into his mouth as the boy struggled for words beneath him.

Peter laced one hand into Tony’s hair, pulling him closer as he whined at the stimulation, “Please, Dad, want it so bad, ‘m so hard for you, I can’t- I can’t wait anymore, please!”

“Good boy,” Tony murmured, relishing in the shiver that wracked the boy’s body at the praise, “Your Dad’s gonna give it to you, don’t worry sweetheart.” He pulled back reluctantly, kneeling over Peter with a knee on each side of his hips. Peter looked wrecked already, flushed and wanting, his lips spit slick and swollen.

“So pretty for me sweetheart…” Tony ran his hands down the pale expanse of Peter’s sides, savoring the feeling of the smaller boy beneath him. “Wanna suck my cock, baby boy? Wanna get a taste of your Dad’s dick?”

Peter mewled at the thought, gripping Tony’s hips and leaning forward eagerly, desperate for whatever he could get from the older man.

“Easy, baby, Daddy’s gonna give you what you need.” Tony shuffled forward, moving to press Peter’s shoulders into the couch with his knees, before unzipping his jeans and pulling out his throbbing cock, dripping already with precum. “Open up for me sweetheart.”

Immediately, Peter opened his mouth, extending his tongue and looking up at his Dad with pleading eyes. Tony leaned forward, slipping two fingers into the wet warmth of his mouth and spreading them into a V, stretching Peter’s cheeks and framing his tongue with his fingers. “Good boy,” he murmured, before spitting directly into his mouth. Peter whined at the feeling, bucking beneath Tony’s weight.

Tony withdrew his fingers, wiping the spit on them alongside Peter’s jaw before thrusting his cock into the boy’s open mouth before he had a chance to swallow. Peter immediately moaned around the intrusion, eliciting a responding groan from the man above him.

“That’s it, baby, take it for me, take your Dad’s cock,” Tony thrusted shallowly in and out of the boy’s mouth, letting him get used to the sensation before pushing deeper, beginning to fuck Peter’s face in earnest. Spit was seeping out of the corners of Peter’s mouth, slicking the slide of his Dad’s cock as he fucked his face. Tears were pooling in his eyes, beginning to trickle down his face before Tony reached down, smearing the wetness across the boy’s face before pushing all the way down, burying himself in the warmth of Peter’s throat.

“Fuck sweetheart,” Tony grunted, grinding deeper as Peter choked helplessly around his cock, “Gotta be careful or you’re gonna make me cum, and I have plans for that sweet cunt of yours.” He pulled out of the boy’s mouth, wiping the spit slick head of his cock across the plumpness of Peter’s lower lip.

Peter whined at the loss, looking pleadingly up at Tony. “Hush baby, gotta get at that sweet little hole now.” The older man shifted, yanking off Peter’s jeans and groaning at the sight of his hard and flushed cock, and the way it curved up to bump against his toned stomach. “Beautiful, baby boy, should’ve known you were my son all along, with a pretty cock like that.”

”Fuck,” Peter groans, his voice choked and hoarse with arousal. “Please Dad, I-“

“Hush baby, your Dad’s gonna take care of you,” Tony gripped Peter’s hips, rough and bruising, and pulled the boy up, tilting him until he was balanced on his shoulders, pressed into the couch with his legs resting on his Dad’s shoulders. “Just gotta get my mouth on you first, taste my son’s sweet little cunt.” Peter mewled, canting his hips up further, eagerly opening himself for his Dad.

“Good boy,” Tony murmured, hushed and reverent before he leaned forward to lap across the twitching pucker of Peter’s hole, grinning at the moan it pulled from the boy. He licked sloppily around his opening, moaning at the taste in a way that has Peter’s toes curling, his heels pressing harder into the broadness of Tony’s back.

The older man is hungry, greedy as he pushes his tongue into Peter, making a mess of them both with his spit before reaching up to add a finger, pressing slowly into Peter’s warmth.

His son whines at the intrusion, pushing back in a silent plea for more.

“Fuck, Pete, wanted to take my time, give this pussy what it deserves,” Tony groans, shifting to lower Peter back down, splaying his legs open and making a space for himself between them. “But it’s too greedy, huh? You need your Dad’s cock too bad for that.”

Peter nods frantically, wrapping his legs around his Dad and pulling him closer. “Give it to me now, please?”

“Let me stretch you out a bit more, baby, still too tight to take your Dad’s big cock,” As he spoke Tony was leaning over, grabbing the bottle of lube that they had stashed under the couch after one too many lube-less workshop trysts. He quickly lubed up two fingers, sliding them into the tight warmth of Peter’s ass, already loosened from Tony’s tongue.

Tony knows its probably too much too fast, but he also knows that neither of them care, that they’re too worked up and too on edge for anything that’s not rough and on the verge of too much. Peter moans, murmuring pleas and curses as he pushed back against Tony’s hand, nearly incoherent with the need for more.

He scissored his fingers, stretching the boy as best as he could with what patience he had left. “Wanna take me now, sweetheart? Hmm? Wanna feel your Dad’s cock stretch that tight little hole?”

“Fuck, Dad,” Peter whined, cock twitching visibly at the thought, “Please, wanna feel your big cock stretch me out.”

Tony groaned at the thought, swiftly withdrawing his fingers to lube up his throbbing cock instead. He gripped himself firmly, lining himself up before pushing into Peter, moaning at the tight squeeze of his son around his cock.

“That’s it,” Tony murmured, panting as he buried himself in Peter, the boy’s eyes rolling back in his head as he moaned, clenching tightly around his Dad. “Take it all for me, baby.”

“It’s so big, Dad,” Peter whined, his words slurred with pleasure, “‘M so full.” Tony grunted at his words, beginning to fuck roughly in and out of him, the slick squelch of lube and spit filling the room. He tilted his hips as he did, pulling and arranging the boy so that he was nailing his prostate on each thrust.

Peter practically screamed at the sensation, clutching Tony’s arms and digging his nails into the firmness of the muscle there.

“Yeah? You like how your Dad’s cock fills you up?” Tony questioned, tightening his grip on the boys hips, pulling him back against him to meet his thrusts, changing the pace into something quick, brutal. Peter nodded helplessly flushed and thrashing beneath the older man. “’S gonna make me cum, Dad, ‘m gonna cum on your cock.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, wanna feel it, wanna feel you cum on the cock that made you,” Tony growled out, feeling his own orgasm building within him at the thought, at the anticipation of seeing his son cum just from his Dad’s cock fucking him.

Peter cried out, cursing as he threw his head back, cock spurting untouched between them as he came. He clenched down around Tony as he did, causing the older man to quicken his thrusts before he came, filling up his son as he groaned out his own release.

Tony leaned down, hips still twitched helplessly as he connected their lips in a sloppy kiss, exchanging air more than anything else but content in the intimacy anyways.

“Love you, Tony,” Peter murmured, lacing his fingers through the older man’s hair before pulling him closer.

“Love you too, Pete,” Tony replied, grinning, relieved and sated with his son in his arms.

[im-just-trying-to-get-bi]

(Black screen with text; The sound of buzzing bees can be heard) Narrator: According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. (Barry is picking out a shirt) Barry: Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Janet: Barry! Breakfast is ready! Barry: Coming! Hang on a second. (Barry uses his antenna like a phone) Barry: Hello (Through phone) Adam: Barry? Barry: Adam? Adam: Can you believe this is happening? Barry: I can't. I'll pick you up. (Barry flies down the stairs) Martin: Looking sharp. Janet: Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Barry: Sorry. I'm excited. Martin: Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Janet: Very proud. (Rubs Barry's hair) Barry: Ma! I got a thing going here. Janet: You got lint on your fuzz. Barry: Ow! That's me! Janet: Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. Bye! (Barry flies out the door) Janet: Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! (Barry drives through the hive,and is waved at by Adam who is reading a newspaper) Barry: Hey, Adam. Adam: Hey, Barry. (Adam gets in Barry's car) Adam: Is that fuzz gel? Barry: A little. Special day, graduation. Adam: Never thought I'd make it. (Barry pulls away from the house and continues driving) Barry: Three days grade school, three days high school... Adam: Those were awkward. Barry: Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. Adam: You did come back different. (Barry and Adam pass by Artie, who is jogging) Artie: Hi, Barry! Barry: Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. Adam: Hear about Frankie? Barry: Yeah. Adam: You going to the funeral? Barry: No, I'm not going to his funeral. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. Adam: I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. (The car does a barrel roll on the loop-shaped bridge and lands on the highway) Adam: I love this incorporating an amusement park into our regular day. Barry: I guess that's why they say we don't need vacations. (Barry parallel parks the car and together they fly over the graduating students) {♬ Playing "Pomp and Circumstance" ♬} Barry: Boy, quite a bit of pomp...under the circumstances. (Barry and Adam sit down and put on their hats) Barry: Well, Adam, today we are men. Adam: We are! Barry: Bee-men. Adam: Amen! Barry and Adam: Hallelujah! (Barry and Adam both have a happy spasm) {♬ "Pomp and Circumstance" Ends ♬} Announcer: Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Dean: Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of......9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Adam: Will we pick our job today? (Adam and Barry get into a tour bus) Barry: I heard it's just orientation. (Tour buses rise out of the ground and the students are automatically loaded into the buses) Tour Guide: Heads up! Here we go. Announcer: Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. Barry: Wonder what it'll be like? Adam: A little scary. Tour Guide: Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. Barry: This is it! Barry and Adam: Wow. Barry: Wow. (The bus drives down a road an on either side are the Bee's massive complicated Honey-making machines) Tour Guide: We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Everyone: Honey! (The guide has been collecting honey into a bottle and she throws it into the crowd on the bus and it is caught by a girl in the back) Adam: That girl was hot. Barry: She's my cousin! Adam: She is? Barry:

Yes, we're all cousins. Adam: Right. You're right. Tour Guide: At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. (The bus passes by a Bee wearing a helmet who is being smashed into the ground with fly-swatters, newspapers and boots. He lifts a thumbs up but you can hear him groan) Adam: What do you think he makes? Barry: Not enough. Tour Guide: Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. (They pass by a turning wheel with Bees standing on pegs, who are each wearing a finger-shaped hat) Barry: Wow, What does that do? Tour Guide: Catches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Adam: (Intrigued) Can anyone work on the Krelman? Tour Guide: Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. (Everyone claps except for Barry) Barry: The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. Adam: What's the difference? Tour Guide: You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. Barry: (Upset) So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. (Everyone on the bus laughs except Barry. Barry and Adam are walking back home together) Adam: Wow! That blew my mind! Barry: "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. Adam: I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. Barry: But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Adam: Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. Barry: You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Adam: Like what? Give me one example. (Barry and Adam stop walking and it is revealed to the audience that hundreds of cars are speeding by and narrowly missing them in perfect unison) Barry: I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Announcer: Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Barry: Wait a second. Check it out. (The Pollen jocks fly in, circle around and landing in line) Barry: Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! Adam: Wow. I've never seen them this close. Barry: They know what it's like outside the hive. Adam: Yeah, but some don't come back. Girl Bees: Hey, Jocks! Hi, Jocks! (The Pollen Jocks hook up their backpacks to machines that pump the nectar to trucks, which drive away) Lou Lo Duva: You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! (Punching the Pollen Jocks in joy) Lou Lo Duva: I love it! Adam: I wonder where they were. Barry: I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Adam: Right. (Barry and Adam are covered in some pollen that floated off of the Pollen Jocks) Barry: Look at that. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. Adam: It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Barry: Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. (Barry waves at 2 girls standing a little away from them) Adam: Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Barry: Distant. Distant. Pollen Jock #1: Look at these two. Pollen Jock #2: Couple of Hive Harrys. Pollen Jock #1: Let's have fun with them. Girl Bee #1: It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Barry: Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! (Slaps Adam with his hand to represent his scenario) Girl Bee #2: Oh, my! Barry: I never thought I'd knock him out. Girl Bee #1: (Looking at Adam) What were you doing during this? Adam: Obviously I was trying to alert the authorities. Barry: I can autograph that. (The pollen jocks walk up to Barry and Adam, they pretend that Barry and Adam really are pollen jocks.) Pollen Jock #1: A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Barry: Yeah. Gusty. Pollen Jock #1: We're hitting a sunflower patch six

miles from here tomorrow. Barry: Six miles, huh? Adam: Barry! Pollen Jock #2: A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. Barry: Maybe I am. Adam: You are not! Pollen Jock #1: We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? Barry: I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. (The scene cuts to Barry looking out on the hive-city from his balcony at night) Martin: Hey, Honex! Barry: Dad, you surprised me. Martin: You decide what you're interested in? Barry: Well, there's a lot of choices. But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Martin: Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. Barry: You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. Martin: You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! Janet: Barry, you are so funny sometimes. Barry: I'm not trying to be funny. Martin: You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! Janet: You're gonna be a stirrer? Barry: No one's listening to me! Martin: Wait till you see the sticks I have. Barry: I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! (Barry's parents don't listen to him and continue to ramble on) Martin: Let's open some honey and celebrate! Barry: Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! Janet: I'm so proud. (The scene cuts to Barry and Adam waiting in line to get a job) Adam: We're starting work today! Barry: Today's the day. Adam: Come on! All the good jobs will be gone. Barry: Yeah, right. Job Lister: Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... Bee in the front of the line: Is it still available? Job Lister: Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. Adam: What'd you get? Bee in the front of the line: Picking crud out. Stellar! (He walks away) Adam: Wow! Job Lister: Couple of newbies? Adam: Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Job Lister: Make your choice. (Adam and Barry look up at the job board. There are hundreds of constantly changing panels that contain available or unavailable jobs. It looks very confusing) Adam: You want to go first? Barry: No, you go. Adam: Oh, my. What's available? Job Lister: Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. Adam: Any chance of getting the Krelman? Job Lister: Sure, you're on. (Puts the Krelman finger-hat on Adam's head) (Suddenly the sign for Krelman closes out) Job Lister: I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. (Takes Adam's hat off) Job Lister: Wax monkey's always open. Adam: The Krelman opened up again. What happened? Job Lister: A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Adam: Oh, this is so hard! (Barry remembers what the Pollen Jock offered him and he flies off) Adam: Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? (Adam turns around and sees Barry flying away) Adam: Barry! Pollen Jock #1: All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... Adam: (Through phone) What happened to you? Where are you? Barry: I'm going out. Adam: Out? Out where? Barry: Out there. Adam: Oh, no! Barry: I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. Adam: You're gonna die! You're crazy! (Barry hangs up) Adam: Hello? Pollen Jock #2: Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Barry: Hey, guys. Pollen Jock #1: Look at that. Pollen Jock #2: Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Lou Lo Duva: Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. Pollen Jock #1: It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. (Puts hand on Barry's shoulder)

Lou Lo Duva: (To Barry) Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Bee with Clipboard: (To Barry) Sign here, here. Just initial that. Thank you. Lou Lo Duva: OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! Barry: That's awful. Lou Lo Duva: (Still talking through megaphone) And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Pollen Jocks: (The Pollen Jocks run into formation) Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Lou Lo Duva: Black and yellow! Pollen Jocks: Hello! Pollen Jock #1: (To Barry)You ready for this, hot shot? Barry: Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Pollen Jocks: Wind, check. Antennae, check. Nectar pack, check. Wings, check. Stinger, check. Barry: Scared out of my shorts, check. Lou Lo Duva: OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! (The pollen jocks fly out of the hive) Barry: Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! (Barry flies through the kite) Barry: Wow! Flowers! (A pollen jock puts on some high tech goggles that shows flowers similar to heat sink goggles.) Pollen Jock: This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! Pollen Jock #1: 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. (The pollen jock fires a high-tech gun at the flower, shooting tubes that suck up the nectar from the flower and collects it into a pouch on the gun) Barry: That is one nectar collector! Pollen Jock #1: Ever see pollination up close? Barry: No, sir. (Barry and the Pollen jock fly over the field, the pollen jock sprinkles pollen as he goes) Pollen Jock #1: I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. Barry: That's amazing. Why do we do that? Pollen Jock #1: That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Barry: Cool. Pollen Jock #1: I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. could be daisies. Don't we need those? Pollen Jock #2: Copy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Pollen Jock #1: Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Pollen Jock #2: Affirmative. (The Pollen jocks land near the "flowers" which, to the audience are obviously just tennis balls) Ken: (In the distance) That was on the line! Pollen Jock #1: This is the coolest. What is it? Pollen Jock #2: I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Pollen Jock #1: Yeah, fuzzy. (Sticks his hand on the ball but it gets stuck) Pollen Jock #3: Chemical-y. (The pollen jock finally gets his hand free from the tennis ball) Pollen Jock #1: Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. (The pollen jocks turn around and see Barry lying his entire body on top of one of the tennis balls) Pollen Jock #2: My sweet lord of bees! Pollen Jock #3: Candy-brain, get off there! Pollen Jock #1: (Pointing upwards) Problem! (A human hand reaches down and grabs the tennis ball that Barry is stuck to) Barry: Guys! Pollen Jock #2: This could be bad. Pollen Jock #3: Affirmative. (Vanessa Bloome starts bouncing the tennis ball, not knowing Barry is stick to it) Barry: Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. (Barry is being hit back and forth by two humans playing tennis. He is still stuck to the ball) Pollen Jock #1: You are way out of position, rookie! Ken: Coming in at you like a MISSILE! (Barry flies past the pollen jocks, still stuck to the ball) Barry: (In slow motion) Help me! Pollen Jock #2: I don't think these are flowers. Pollen Jock #3: Should we tell him? Pollen Jock #1: I think he knows. Barry: What is this?! Ken: Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to EAT IT! (A pollen

jock coughs which confused Ken and he hits the ball the wrong way with Barry stuck to it and it goes flying into the city) Barry: Yowser! (Barry bounces around town and gets stuck in the engine of a car. He flies into the air conditioner and sees a bug that was frozen in there) Barry: Ew, gross. (The man driving the car turns on the air conditioner which blows Barry into the car) Girl in the car: There's a bee in the car! Do something! Dad driving the car: I'm driving! Baby Girl: (Waving at Barry) Hi, bee. (Barry smiles and waves at the baby girl) Guy in the back of the car: He's back here! He's going to sting me! Girl in the car: Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! (Barry freezes as well, hovering in the middle of the car) Grandma in the car: He blinked! (The grandma whips out some bee-spray and sprays everywhere in the car, climbing into the front seat, still trying to spray Barry) Girl in the car: Spray him, Granny! Dad driving the car: What are you doing?! (Barry escapes the car through the air conditioner and is flying high above the ground, safe.) Barry: Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. (Barry sees that storm clouds are gathering and he can see rain clouds moving into this direction) Barry: I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Pollen Jock #1: You are way out of position, rookie! Ken: Coming in at you like a MISSILE! (Barry flies past the pollen jocks, still stuck to the ball) Barry: (In slow motion) Help me! Pollen Jock #2: I don't think these are flowers. Pollen Jock #3: Should we tell him? Pollen Jock #1: I think he knows. Barry: What is this?! Ken: Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to EAT IT! (A pollen jock coughs which confused Ken and he hits the ball the wrong way with Barry stuck to it and it goes flying into the city) Barry: Yowser! (Barry bounces around town and gets stuck in the engine of a car. He flies into the air conditioner and sees a bug that was frozen in there) Barry: Ew, gross. (The man driving the car turns on the air conditioner which blows Barry into the car) Girl in the car: There's a bee in the car! Do something! Dad driving the car: I'm driving! Baby Girl: (Waving at Barry) Hi, bee. (Barry smiles and waves at the baby girl) Guy in the back of the car: He's back here! He's going to sting me! Girl in the car: Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! (Barry freezes as well, hovering in the middle of the car) Grandma in the car: He blinked! (The grandma whips out some bee-spray and sprays everywhere in the car, climbing into the front seat, still trying to spray Barry) Girl in the car: Spray him, Granny! Dad driving the car: What are you doing?! (Barry escapes the car through the air conditioner and is flying high above the ground, safe.) Barry: Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. (Barry sees that storm clouds are gathering and he can see rain clouds moving into this direction) Barry: I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain.(a raindrop hits him, but before he can recover, another hits him) Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! (Barry sees a window ledge and barely makes it there, then crawls through the open window.) Vanessa: Ken, could you close the window please? Ken: Huh? Oh.. Hey, Check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Barry: Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. (tries to fly out the window but bounces off of it) Oof! Ow! What was that? (tries again) Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This, this, this, this... Drapes. (taps the glass) That is diabolical. Ken: (showing off his resume:) It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. Andy: What's your number one? Star Wars? Ken: Nah, I don't go for that... (mimics lasers firing) ...kind of stuff. Barry: No wonder we’re not supposed to talk to them. They're out of their minds. Ken: When I walk out of a job interview, they're flabbergasted. They can't believe the things I say. Barry: There's the sun. Maybe

that's a way out. (flies towards the light near the ceiling) I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. (bounces off it and starts falling, landing in a bowl of chip dip) Ken: I gotta tell ya, I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. (Andy scoops up some of the dip with a tortilla chip, including Barry, and brings it towards his mouth) Ken: Wait! Stop! Bee! Anna: Kill it! Kill it! Ken: (grabs something to kill it) Stand back. These are winter boots. Vanessa: Wait! Don't kill him! Ken: You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Vanessa: Well, why does his life have any less value than yours? (Vanessa places a lass over Barry) Ken: Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? Vanessa: I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. (Vanessa rips Ken's resume in half and slides it under the glass) Ken: My brochure. Vanessa: (carries the glass with Barry inside over to the window and release him) There you go, little guy. Ken: I'm not scared of him. But yeah, it's an allergic thing. Andy: Hey, why don't you put that on your resume-brochure? Ken: It's not funny. My whole face could puff up. Andy: Hmm, make it one of your "special skills". Ken: You know, knocking someone out is also a special skill. (later, as the rain stops and the sun comes back out) Anna: Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. Ken: Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? Vanessa: Ah, yeah, sure, Ken. You know, whatever. Ken: You could put carob chips on there. Vanessa: Bye. Ken: Supposed to be less calories or somethin'. Vanessa: Bye. (the last of her guests have left. She shuts the door and begins cleanup.) Barry: (sighs) I gotta say something. She saved my life. I've got to say something. All right, here it goes. (Barry flies back into her house through the almost-closed window and stops in front of a can of Bumble Bee Chunk Light Tuna as Vanessa walks by, stopping right in line with the mascot. He starts to walk away and looks back. Says, "Huh" and turns back around to look at the mascot, then says "Nah" as he dismisses the picture and continues walking.) (Barry resumes flying and lands on a postcard from Coney Island taped to the refrigerator, again in a position where Vanessa doesn't notice him.) Barry: What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. (begins debating with himself) I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Come on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "Ya like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Barry: (to Vanessa:) Um, hi! (Vanessa gasps and drops the dishes) Barry: I'm sorry. Vanessa: Hah, you're talking. Barry: Yes, I know, I know. I'm so– Vanessa: You're talking. Barry: I know. I'm– I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Vanessa: No, it's okay. It's fine. It's just... I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Barry: Well, you know, I'm sure this is very disconcerting.... Vanessa: Yeah! I mean, this is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! Barry: Yeah. Vanessa: Yeah. Barry: Yeah, I am a bee. And, uh, you know I'm not supposed to be doing this, but... (Vanessa makes a small "Oh" and "uh-huh" noises while Barry's talking) Barry: ...they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I mean, I had to thank you. It's, it's just the way I was raised. (Vanessa grabs a fork and stabs herself in the hand, then cries out) Barry: Oh! That was a little weird. Vanessa: I'm talking to a bee. Barry: Yeah. Vanessa: I'm talking to a bee. Barry: Anyway... Vanessa: And the bee is talking to me! Barry: Um, I just want to say I'm grateful, and I'm going to leave now. Vanessa: Wait, wait, wait, wait! How did you learn to do that? Barry: What? Vanessa: That- that- that- that... The talking thing. Barry: Oh, same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. Vanessa: (laughs unconvincingly) That's very funny. Barry: Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal

with. Anyway... Vanessa: Can I uh... get you something? Barry: Like what? Vanessa: I don't know. I mean.. I don't know. Coffee? Barry: Well, uh, I don't want to put you out, unless you're making it anyway. Vanessa: Oh, it's no trouble. Oh, it takes two minutes. Barry: Really? Vanessa: It's just coffee. Barry: I hate to impose. Vanessa: Don't be ridiculous! Barry: Actually, I would love a cup. Vanessa: Hey, you want a little rum cake? Barry: I really shouldn't. Vanessa: Have a little rum cake. Barry: No, no, no, I can't. Vanessa: Oh, come on! Barry: You know, I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms here. Vanessa: Where? Barry: Well... these stripes don't help. Vanessa: You look great! Barry: I don't know if you know anything about fashion. (Vanessa walks away and begins pouring coffee onto the floor, a coffee cup in her other hand) Barry: Are you all right? Vanessa: No. (fade to Vanessa and Barry on her roof terrace, talking and having coffee) Barry: He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. So he finally gets there. Vanessa: Uh huh. Barry: He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on... Vanessa: Yeah? Barry: ...and he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan." Vanessa: Uh huh? Barry: Why would I marry a watermelon? (Barry laughs) (Vanessa's more confused than amused. Barry gestures, indicating his joke is done.) Vanessa: Oh, Is that a... a bee joke? Barry: Yeah, that's the kind of stuff that we do. Vanessa: Yeah, different. So, anyway, what are you gonna do, Barry? Barry: About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I, I can't do it the way they want. Vanessa: I know how you feel. Barry: You do? Vanessa: Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. Barry: Really? Vanessa: My only interest is flowers. Barry: Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Vanessa: Oh, huh. Barry: Anyway, you see if you look... There. There's my hive right there. You can see it. Vanessa: Oh, you're in Sheep Meadow! Barry: Yes! You know the turtle pond? Vanessa: Yes? Barry: I'm right off of that. Vanessa: Oh, no way! I know that area. Do you know I lost a toe ring there once. (behind them, a janitor comes onto the roof and begins working on replacing a light bulb) Barry: Really? Vanessa: Yes. Barry: Why do girls put rings on their toes? Vanessa: Well, why not? Barry: I don't know. It's like putting a hat on your knee. Vanessa: Maybe I'll try that. Janitor: You all right, ma'am? Vanessa: (realizing how it must look, talking to herself:) Oh, yeah, fine. Just having two cups of coffee. (she laughs) (Vanessa and Barry share a little quiet time) Barry: Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Vanessa: Oh, yeah, it's no trouble. Barry: Sorry I couldn't finis it. If I did, I'd be up for the rest of my life. Are you... Umm. Can I take a piece of this with me? Vanessa: Sure! Here, have a crumb. (She passes one to Barry on her fingertip) Barry: Oh, thanks. Vanessa: Yeah. Barry: All right, well, then... I guess I'll see you around, or not, or... Vanessa: Okay, Barry. Barry: And thank you so much again... for before. Vanessa: Oh, that? That was nothing. Barry: Well, not nothing, but... anyway... (Barry extends his hand. Vanessa touches it with her finger and they gingerly shake. The janitor looks over and continues tightening the bulb in the socket. It shorts, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards.) (The next day at the Honex building, hurricane survival testing is in progress. A bee wearing a parachute is in a wind tunnel.) Testing bee 1: This can't possibly work. Testing bee 2: Well, he's all set to go. We may as well try it. (via intercom:) Okay, Dave. pull the chute. (Dave pulls the cord and is immediately blown backwards. He slides down the wall and shakily gives a thumbs up signal. Barry and Adam walk by the outside of the testing chamber.) Adam: Sounds amazing. Barry: Oh, it was amazing. It- it was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Adam: Humans! Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant scary

humans! What were they like? Barry: Huge and crazy. They talk crazy, they eat crazy giant things. They drive around real crazy. Adam: And do they try and kill you like on TV? Barry: Some of them. But some of them don't. Adam: How'd you get back? Barry: Poodle. Adam: Look, you did it. And I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see out there, You had your "experience", and now you're back, you can pick out your job and everything can be normal. Barry: Well... Adam: Well? Well? Barry: Well, I met someone. Adam: You met someone? Was she Bee-ish? Barry: Mmm. Adam: Not a wasp? Your parents will kill you. Barry: No, no, no, not a wasp. Adam: Spider? Barry: You know, I'm not attracted to the spiders. I know to everyone else it's like the hottest thing with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. (Barry grimaces and makes a noise.) Adam: So, uh, who is she? Barry: She's... uh... a human. Adam: Oh no, no, no, no. That didn't happen. You didn't do that. That is a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. Barry: Her name's Vanessa. Adam: Oh, oh boy! Barry: She's so-o nice. And she's a florist! Adam: Oh, no. No, no, no! You're dating a human florist? Barry: W-w-well, we're not dating. Adam: You're flying outside the hive. You're talking to human beings that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s. That's one-eighth of a stick of dynamite. Barry: She saved my life. And she understands me. Adam: This is over. Barry: (pulls out the rum cake crumb) Eat this. (pushes it into Adam's face.) Adam: This is not over. What was that? Barry: They call it a crumb. Adam: That was so stingin' stripey! Barry: And that's not even what they eat. That just falls off what they eat. Do you know what a Cinnabon is? Adam: No. Barry: It's bread... Adam: Come in here! (opens the door to the office where he works and guides Barry inside) Barry: ...and cinnamon, Adam: Be quiet! Barry: ...and frosting. They heat it up– Adam: Sit down! Barry: Really hot! Adam: Listen to me! We are not them. We're us. There's us and there's them. Barry: Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning... Adam: There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. (another bee joins in:) Thinking bee. (and another joins in:) Thinking bee. (all bees in the office begin chanting:) Thinking bee. Thinking bee. Thinking bee. (Outside his house, Barry sits on a raft in his family's hexagon-shaped honey pool, legs dangling into the honey. Mom and dad approach, wearing cabana-type outfits, sun shining behind them.) Mom: There he is. He's in the pool. Dad: You know what your problem is, Barry? Barry: I've got to start thinking bee? Dad: Barry, how much longer is this going to go on? It's been three days. I don't understand why you're not working. Barry: Well, I've got a lot of big life decisions I'm thinking about Dad: What life? You have no life! You have no job! You're barly a bee! Barry: Augh. Mom: Would it kill you to just make a little honey? (Barry rolls off the raft and sinks into the pool.) Mom: Barry, come out from under there. Your rather's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Dad: Barry, I'm talking to you. (Barry keeps swimming downward through the honey, which clears and leads him to a park where Vanessa is waiting for him, reclining on a picnic blanket. "Sugar Sugar" by The Archies is playing in the background. She swats a mosquito that lands on her leg, then looks at Barry for his reaction. Both are surprised, but then laugh about it.) Vanessa: You coming? (said in a sultry way) Barry: Got everything? Vanessa: All set. (She gets into a one-man ultralight plane with a black-and-yellow paint job and puts on her helmet. She and the plane are now Barry's size.) Barry: You go ahead. I'll catch up. Vanessa: Don't be too long. (The plane takes off. Barry soon catches up and they fly together.) Vanessa: Watch this! (The plane does a loop, trailing red smoke that forms a heart, then crashes into the side of a rock pile, bursting into flames.) Barry: (yelling in anguish:) Vanessa! (his cry changes to bubbles escaping

his mouth) (Barry breaks the surface of the pool, gasping for air.) Dad: We're still here, Barry. Mom: I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond when you yell at him. Dad: Then why are you yelling at me? Mom: Because you don't listen. Dad: Ah, I'm not listing to this. Barry: (dries himself and puts on his sweater) Sorry Mom, I've got to go. Mom: Where are you going? Barry: Nowhere. I'm meeting a friend. Mom: (calling after him:) A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Barry: Bye! Mom: I just hope she's Bee-ish. (Vanessa exits her florist shop, flipping the sign over and locking the door.) Barry: (he see the Tournament of Roses Parade poster) So they have a huge parade of just flowers every year in Pasadena? Vanessa: Oh, to be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream. Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. Barry: Wow, a tournament. Do the roses actually complete in athletic events? Vanessa: No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? Barry: It's exhausting. Vanessa: Hmmm. Barry: Why don't you run everywhere? Isn't that faster? Vanessa: Yeah, okay. I see, I see. All right, your turn. Barry: Ah! Tivo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane. Vanessa: What, you don't have anything like that? Barry: We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Vanessa: Oh my. (They turn a corner onto a busier street. People start swatting at Barry.) Man: Dumb bees! Vanessa: You must just want to sting all those jerks. Barry: We really try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. Vanessa: So you really have to watch your temper? (they enter a supermarket) Barry: Oh yeah, very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. You work though it like any emotion– anger, jealousy, (under his breath) lust. (Barry lands on cardboard boxes in the aisle. A stock boy hits him with a rolled-up advertisement.) Vanessa: (to Barry:) Oh my goodness. Are you okay? Barry: Yeah. Whew! Vanessa: (to Hector, the stockboy:) What is wrong with you?! Hector: It's a bug. Vanessa: Well, he's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep. (She slaps him with the advertisement and he leaves, muttering.) Barry: (shakes off the hit) What was that, a Pick and Save circular? Vanessa: Yeah, it was. How did you know? Barry: It felt like about ten pages. Seventy-five's pretty much our limit. Vanessa: Boy, you've really got that down to a science. Barry: Oh, we have to. I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. Vanessa: I'll bet. Barry: (he stops when he sees the rows of honey jars) What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Cute Bee? Golden Blossom? Ray Liotta Private Select. Vanessa: Is he that actor? Barry: I never heard of him. Why is this here? Vanessa: For people. We eat it. Barry: Why? (he gestures around the market) You don't have enough food of your own? Vanessa: Well yes, we– Barry: How do you even get it? Vanessa: Well, bees make it... Barry: I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating and cooling, and stirring... you need a whole Krelman thing. Vanessa: It's organic. Barry: It's our-ganic! Vanessa: It's just honey, Barry. Barry: Just... what?! Bees don't know about this. This is stealing. A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, our schools, our hospitals. This is all we have. And it's on sale? I'm going to get to the bottom of this. I'm going to get to the bottom of all of this! (Barry rips off the label from a jar of Ray Liotta Private Select Honey) (Later, Barry's infiltrating the supermarket loading dock by covering up his yellow stripes with a Magic Marker and putting on war paint. Hector's opening more boxes of honey jars.) Man: Hey, Hector. You almost done? Hector: Almost. (Barry steps in some honey. Hector stops and turns.) Hector: He is here. I sense it. (he grabs his box cutter as Barry hides) (Barry hides behind a box again) Hector: (talking loud to the open room as he opens a jar of honey from a box:) Well, I guess I'll go home now, and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around.

(pretends to walk away) Barry: (he steps out into the light) You're busted, box boy! Hector: Ah ha! I knew I heard something. So, you can talk. (Barry flies at him, stinger first, backing him against the wall. Hector drops the knife.) Barry: Oh, I can talk. And now you're going to start talking. Where are you getting all the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier?! Hector: I don't know what you're talking about. I though we were all friends. The last thing we want to do is upset any of you... bees! (Hector grabs a push pin. Barry begins fencing with his stinger..) Hector: Ha! You're too late. It's ours now! Barry: You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword. Hector: You, sir, are about to be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! (The fight continues. They cross swords and get nose-to-nose.) Barry: Where is the honey coming from? (Barry knocks the push pin away and put his stinger up to Hector's nose.) Tell me where! Hector: (points to a truck) Honey Farms. It comes from Honey Farms. (Barry flies after the departing truck, dodging a bus, taxis and a messenger on a bicycle. One driver yells at messenger, "Crazy person!") (Barry continues his pursuit, using the elastic strap on a bicycle messenger's helmet to launch himself towards the truck. He lands on the windshield, pressed against it by the wind. He sees himself surrounded by dead bugs, then works his way around them.) Barry: Oh my. What horrible thing has happened here? Look at these faces. They never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere. (a mosquito opens his eyes) Pssst! Just keep still. Barry: What? You're not dead? Mooseblood: Do I look dead? Hey man, they will wipe anything that moves. Now, where you headed? Barry: To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. Mooseblood: I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood. Crazy stuff. Blows your head off. Ladybug: I'm going to Tacoma. Barry: (to a fly:) What about you? Mooseblood: He really is dead. Barry: All right. (the driver's hand moves to the windshield wiper lever) Mooseblood: Uh oh. Barry: What is that? Mooseblood: Oh no! It's a wiper, triple blade! Barry: Triple blade? Mooseblood: Jump on. It's your only chance, bee. (They hang onto the wiper as it moves back and forth. Mooseblood yells at the driver through the glass) Mooseblood: Why does everything have to be so dog-gone clean?! How much do you people need to see? Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! (inside the cab, the radio's playing) Announcer: For NPR News in Washington, I'm Carl Kasell. Mooseblood: But don't kill no more bugs! (he is flung off the wiper as the washer fluid sprays onto the windshield) Beeeeeeeee! Barry: Moose blood guy! (Barry gets flung off, grabs ahold of the radio antenna. A cricket flying by grabs ahold of the antenna. Both scream are screaming.) Driver: You hear something? Passenger: Like what? Driver: Like tiny screaming. Passenger: Turn off the radio. (The driver turns off the radio and the antenna retracts. As it lowers, the cricket and Barry work their way to its top. Barry wins and the cricket has to let go, but then so does Barry, and he's sucked into the air horn on the top of the truck.) Mooseblood: Hey, what's up, bee boy? Barry: Hey, Blood! (inside the truck horn, later during the drive) Barry: ...and it was just an endless row of honey jars as far as the eye could see. Mooseblood: Wow. Barry: So I'm just assuming wherever this honey truck goes, that's where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours! Mooseblood: Bees hang tight. Barry: Well, we're all jammed in there. It's a close community. Mooseblood: Not us, man. We're on our own. Every- every mosquito is on his own. Barry: But what if you get in trouble? Mooseblood: Trouble? You're a mosquito. You're in trouble! Nobody likes us. They're just all smackin'. People see a mosquito, smack, smack! Barry: At least you're out in the world. You must meet a lot of girls. Mooseblood: Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly.... Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. (A bloodmobile passes them.) Mooseblood: Whoa, you have got to be kidding me.

Mooseblood's about to leave the building. So long bee. (he leaves and jumps onto the other vehicle, saying to the bugs on its windshield:) Hey guys. I knew I'd catch you all down here. Did you bring your crazy straws? (At Honey Farms, the truck stops. Barry flies out of the horn and lands on the nose of the truck. Two beekeepers walk around the back side of the gift shop. Barry follows, landing in a tree.) Freddy: ...then we throw it in some jars, slap a label on it. It's pretty much pure profit. Barry: What is this place? Elmo: A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. Freddy: They are pinheads. (both laugh and Elmo says, "Pinhead". Freddy opens a smoker box after they arrive) Freddy: Hey, check out the new smoker. Elmo: Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. Freddy: The Thomas 3000. Barry: Smoker? Freddy: Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. (both laugh again) Freddy: Couple of breaths of this, knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. (Barry flies onto Freddy's hat and onto the brim.) Elmo: "They make the honey, and we make the money." (Freddy and Elmo walk onward. Freddy opens an apiary box and sprays it with smoke. Inside, the bees start moaning and gasping.) Barry: Oh my. (Barry flies into the open box as Freddy leaves and makes his way into an apartment. Two bees are just waking up.) Barry: What's going on? Are you okay? Howard: Yeah, it doesn't last too long. Barry: How did you two get here? Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Howard: (points to a picture) Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. Barry: (looks at the picture) This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes. That's a drag-queen! (The walls separating the apartments are removed, revealing hundreds of them.) Barry: What is this? (Flies through the apartments and out into the open air. He hovers high above a tree, where he sees even more apiary boxes on the farm. He begins taking pictures) Oh no. There's hundreds of them. Bee honey, our honey, is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale. (Back at home, Barry's talking with his parents, Adam and Uncle Carl.) Barry: This is worse than anything the bears have done to us. And I intend to do something about it. Mom: Oh Barry, stop. Dad: Who told you that humans are taking our honey? That's just a rumor. Barry: Do these look like rumors? (Barry throws his pictures on the table) Uncle Carl: That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. Barry: Ugh. Mom: Barry, how did you get mixed up in all this? Adam: 'Cause he's been talking to humans! Mom: Whaaat? Dad: Talking to humans?! Adam: He has a human girlfriend... Dad: Oh Barry. Adam: ...and they make out! Mom: Make out? Barry? Barry: We do not. Adam: You wish you could. Barry: Who's side are you on? Adam: The bees! Uncle Carl: I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Man, those crazy legs kept me up all night. Hotcheewah! Mom: Barry, this is what you want to do with your life?: Barry: This is what I want to do for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees. Dad, I remember you coming home some nights so overworked, you- your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop them. Dad: Ehhh... Mom: (to her husband:) I remember that. Barry: What right do they have to our hard-earned honey? We're living on two cups a year. They're puttin' it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever. Dad: Even if it's true, Barry, what could one bee do? Barry: I'm going to sting them where it really hurts. Dad: In the face! Barry: No. Dad: In the eye! That would really hurt. Barry: No. Dad: Up the nose. That's a killer, heh heh. Barry: No. There's only one place you can sting the humans. One place where it really matters. (The scene cuts to the title sequence of the "Hive at Five" program. The title sequence shows news events covered in the past: a Pollen Jock coming in for a crash landing with a stinger that's on fire, a protest about bee beards, and a bear destroying a hive. Next are the newscasters.) voice over: Hive at Five, the hive's only full hour action news source. With Bob Bumble

at the anchor desk, weather with Storm Stinger, sports with Buzz Larvi, and Jeanette Chung. Bob: Good evening, I'm Bob Bumble. Jeanette: And I'm Jeanette Chung. Bob: Our top story, a tri-county bee, Barry Benson is saying he intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it, and profiting from it illegally. (Broadcast shifts again to another studio in the building for "Bee Larry King Live".) Bee Larry King: Don't forget, tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we're gonna have three former Queens, all right here in our studio, discussing their new book, Classy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. (to Barry:) Tonight, we're talking with Barry Benson. Did ya ever think, I'm just a kid from the hive. I can't do this? Barry: Larry, bees have never been afraid to change the world. I mean, what about Bee-Columbus? Bee-Ghandi? Be-geesus? Bee Larry King: Well, where I'm from, you wouldn't think of suing humans. We were thinking more like stick ball, uh, candy stores. Barry: How old are you? Bee Larry King: Well, I want you to know that they entire bee community is supporting you in this case, which is certain to be the trial of the bee century. Barry: Thank you, Larry. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world, too. Bee Larry King: It's a common name. Next week on Bee Larry King... Barry: No, I mean he looks like you. And he has a show with suspenders and different colored dots behind him. Bee Larry King: Next week on Bee Larry King... Barry: Old guy glasses, and there's quotes along the bottom from the guest you're watching even though you just heard them... Bee Larry King: Bear next week! They're scary, they're hairy, and they're here live. (he exits) Barry: Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes.... Very Jewish. (Nighttime at Vanessa's Flower Shop. Law books and legal forms are piled up.) Ken: Look, in- in tennis, you attack at the point of weakness. Vanessa: But it was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Ken: Huh, honey, her backhand's a joke. I'm not going to take advantage of that? Barry: Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. Ken: Is that that same bee? Barry: Yes it is. Vanessa: I'm helping him sue the human race. Ken: Wha? Barry: (enters room, sees Ken) Oh, hello. Ken: Hello, bee. Vanessa: This is Ken. Barry: Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Ken: Why does he talk again, hun? Vanessa: Listen, you better go because we're really busy working. Ken: But it's our yogurt night. Vanessa: (she pushes him out the door) Oh... bye bye. Ken: (from outside the now-closed door) Why is yogurt night so difficult? Vanessa: Oh you poor thing, you two have been at this for hours. Barry: Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. (Adam is asleep inside an empty Cinnabon box, covered in frosting and muttering in his sleep about it.) Vanessa: (referring to the coffee:) How many sugars? Barry: Just one. I try not to use the competition. Ooh! So, why are you helping me, anyway? Vanessa: Bees have good qualities. Barry: Si, Certo. Vanessa: And it feels good to take my mind off the shop. I don't know why, instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Barry: Yeah, those are great... if you're three. Vanessa: And artificial flowers. Barry: Oh, those just get my psychotic! Vanessa: Yeah, me too. Barry: The bent stingers, the pointless pollination. Vanessa: Bees must hate those fake plastic things. Barry: There's nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Vanessa: Well, maybe this could make up for it a little bit. (they exit the flower shop and go to the mailbox) Vanessa: You know, Barry, this lawsuit is a pretty big deal. Barry: I guess. Vanessa: Are you sure that you want to go through with it? Barry: Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty. (Outside the courthouse, a reporter begins her segment, talking to the camera.) Reporter: Sarah, it's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan where all eyes and ears of the world are anxiously waiting, because for the first time in

history, we're going to hear for ourselves if a honey bee can actually speak. (Inside, Barry, Vanessa and Adam sit at a table.) Vanessa: What have we gotten into here, Barry? Barry: I don't know, but it's pretty big, isn't it? Adam: I can't believe how many humans don't have to be at work during the day. Barry: Hey, you think these billion dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? (Back outside the courthouse, a policeman announces though a megaphone, "Folks, everybody needs to stay behind the barricade." A very expensive car drives up with a license plate saying "ALIBUY" and the initials LTM on the hood ornament. The lawyer gets out, sees a bug and steps on it. Inside, Barry shudders.) Vanessa: What's the matter? Barry: I don't know. I just got a chill. Layton T. Montgomery: Well, if it isn't the B-Team.. (waves a honey packet he picked up from the saucer holding his drink) Any of you boys work on this? (he chuckles) Bailiff: All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. Judge Bumbleton: All right... Case number 4475, Superior Court of New York. Barry Bee Benson vs. the honey industry, is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five major food companies, collectively. Layton: A privilege. Judge: Ah, Mr. Benson. You are representing all bees of the world? (Inside and outside the courtroom, everyone is waiting to hear what he will say.) Barry: Bzzz bzzz bzzz...Ahh, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Yes, your honor. We are ready to proceed. Judge: And Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Layton: (clears throat and speaks in a very heavy and exaggerated Southern drawl) Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. My grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we were to live in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, j-j-just think of what it would mean. Maybe I would have to negotiate with the silk worm for the elastic in my britches. Talking bee. How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion picture capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams, robotics, ventriloquism, cloning...for all we know, he could be on steroids! Judge: Mr. Benson? Barry: Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. And as a bee, honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it, we make it, and we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take whatever they want from us 'cause we're the little guys. And what I'm hoping is that after this is all over, you'll see how by taking our honey, you're not only taking away everything we have, but everything we are. (Vanessa smiles and silently claps and the bees in the courtroom are moved by his words. Back at their house, Barry's parents are watching on TV.) Mom: Oh, I wish he would dress like that all the time. So nice... Judge: Call your first witness. Barry: So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms. Pretty big company you have there? Vanderhayden: I suppose so. Barry: And I see you also own Honey-Burton, and Honron! Vanderhayden: Yes. They provide beekeepers for our farms. Barry: Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term, I have to say. I don't imagine you employ any bee free-ers, do you? Vanderhayden: Uh, n-no. Barry: I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you. Vanderhayden: (louder) No. Barry: No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. And not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey? Vanderhayden: W-well, they're very lovable creatures. Uh, Yogi Bear, Fozzy Bear. Oh! Build-a-Bear? Barry: Yeah, you mean like this?! (Vanessa and a man enter, guiding a giant grizzly bear restrained by a collar with chains atttached to both sides. They bring him in front of Vanderhayden. The bear lunges at him and roars.) Barry: Bears kill bees! How would you like his big hairy head crashing through your living room? Biting into your couch, spitting out your throw-pillows...rowr, rowr! Bear:

Rowr!! Barry: Okay, that's enough. Take him away. (Vincent stops roaring. He and the man depart without incident, leaving Vanderhayden trembling with the Judge glaring at him and Layton angrily growling himself.) (Later, Barry questions another witness.) Barry: So, Mr. Sting. Thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me, I have to say. Where have I heard it before? Sting: I was with a band called "The Police". Barry: But you've never been a police officer of any kind, have you? Sting: Uh, no, I haven't. Barry: No, you haven't. And so, here we have yet another example of bee culture being casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Sting: Oh, please. Barry: Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say, Mr. Gordon M. Sumner? The jury gasps Layton: (to his assistants:) That's not his real name? You idiots! (later on, Barry's questioning another witness) Barry: (reading from the base of the statue the witness is holding) Mr. Liotta, first may I offer my belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on E.R. in 2005. Ray Liotta: Thank you. Thank you. (he laughs maniacally) Barry: I also see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome, but with a churning inner turmoil that's always ready to blow. Ray: I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Barry: Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you, Mr. Liotta? Exploiting tiny helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part, and learn your lines, sir? Ray: Watch it, Benson, I could blow right now! Barry: This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Ray: (suddenly upset, he tries to smash Barry with his Emmy statue) Why doesn't someone just step on this little creep and we can all go home? You're all thinking it. Say it! Judge: Order! Order in this courtroom! Order, I say! Mr. Liotta, please sit down! (The reaction from the press is harsh. The headline of the New York Telegram has "Sue Bee", the New York Post reads "Bees to Humans: Buzz Off", and the Daily Variety reports "Studio Dumps Liotta Project. Slams Door on Unlawful Entry 2.") (That evening, in Vanessa's apartment.) Barry: Well, I just think that was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. Vanessa: I'm telling you, I think the jury's on our side. Barry: Are we doing everything right, you know, legally? Vanessa: I'm a florist. Barry: Right, right. (he raises his glass) Well, here's to a great team. Vanessa: To a great team. (both toast and Ken enters the apartment) Ken: Well, hello. Vanessa: Oh... Ken. Barry: Hello. Vanessa: Ah, I didn't think you were coming. Ken: No, I was just late. I tried to call. But, the battery... Vanessa: I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily he was free. Barry: Yeah. Ken: Oh, that was lucky. Vanessa: Well, there's still a little left. I could heat it up. Ken: Yeah, heat it up. Sure, whatever. Barry: So, I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. I find the ball a little grabby. Ken: That's where I usually sit. Right there. Vanessa: (from kitchen) Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that "eating with chopsticks" isn't really a special skill. Ken: (to Barry:) You think I don’t see what you’re doin'? Barry: Hey look, I know how hard it is trying to find the right job. We certainly have that in common. Ken: Do we? Barry: Well, bees have 100% employment, of course. But we do jobs like taking the crud out. Ken: That’s just what I was thinking about doing. (Ken reaches for a knife but pushes it off the table. He bends down to pick it up.) Vanessa: (from kitchen) Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. (Ken hits his head on the table as he straightens back up, then presses the apple cider bottle against his temple to soothe it) Barry: I’m going to go drain the ol' stinger. Ken: Yeah, you do that. (Barry flies a couple of loops in front of Ken as he heads to the bathroom, causing Ken to shake the bottle and get cider in his eyes. Barry grabs a small section of Variety

Magazine as he goes.) Barry: Huh, look at that. (tears off a small corner off Variety Magazine as he goes in.) (as Barry finishes up and washes his hands, Ken enters carrying a large magazine) Ken: Y-yo, you known, I've just about had it with your little mind games. Barry: What's that? Ken: Italian Vogue. (he curls the magazine tight) Barry: Mamma Mia, that's a lot of pages. Ken: It's a lot of ads. Barry: Remember what Van said. Why is your life any more valuable than mine? Ken: That's funny, I just can't seem to recall that! (He whacks Barry with the magazine. He misses and knocks everything off the vanity. He grabs a can of air freshener.) Ken: I think something stinks in here! (He sprays at Barry) Barry: I love the smell of flowers. Ken: Yeah, How do you like the smell of flames?! (He lights the stream) Barry: Not as much. (Barry screams) Barry flies in a circle. Ken, trying to stay with him, spins in place. There are flames outside the bathroom door. Ken slips on the Italian Vogue, falls backward into the shower, pulling down the shower curtain. The can hits him in the head, followed by the shower curtain rod, and the rubber duck. Ken reaches back, grabs the handheld shower head. He whips around, looking for Barry. There's a water bug near the drain. Water bug: Water bug! Not taking sides! Barry is on the toilet tank. He comes out from behind a shampoo bottle, wearing a chapstick cap as a helmet. Barry: Ken, look at me! I'm wearing a chapstick hat! This is pathetic! (Ken is turning the hand shower nozzle from "GENTLE", to "TURBO", to "LETHAL".) Ken: I've got issues! (Ken fires the water at Barry, knocking him into the toilet. The items from the vanity (emory board, lipstick, eye curler, etc.) are on the toilet seat. Ken looks down at Barry.) Ken: Well, well, well, a royal flush! Barry: You're bluffing. Ken: Am I? Barry: Surf's up, dude! Ken: Poo water! Barry: That bowl is gnarly. Ken: Except for those dirty yellow rings! Vanessa: Kenneth! What are you doing?! Ken: You know what, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! Vanessa: We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Ken: Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? Vanessa: No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Ken: Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Vanessa: Goodbye, Ken. Ken: Augh! Vanessa: Whew. (Ken exits, then re-enters frame) Ken: And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! Vanessa: I'm sorry about all that. Ken: (re-enters again) Ken: I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! Barry: I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Vanessa: Are you going to be okay for the trial tomorrow? Barry: Oh, I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. Layton: We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Adam: Now that's a good idea. You can really see why he's considered one of the very best lawyers... Barry: Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Layton: Oh don't worry Mr. Gammil. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Layton: Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? Barry: We're friends. Layton: Good friends? Barry: Yes. Layton: How good? Barry: What. Layton: Do you live together? Barry: Wait a minute this isn’t about... Layton: Are you her little...bedbug? Barry: Hey, that’s not the kind of? I've seen a bee documentary or two. Now from what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children in the hive? Barry: Yeah, but... Layton: So those aren't even your real parents! Dad: Oh, Barry... Barry: Yes, they are! Adam: Hold me back! Layton: You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson?

Adam: He's denouncing bees! Layton: And don't y'all date your cousins? Vanessa: Objection! Adam: I'm going to pincushion this guy! Barry: Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Layton: Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Judge: Order! Order! Please! Layton: The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! Judge: Mr. Montgomery! Layton: I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! Barry: Adam, stay with me. Adam: I can't feel my legs. Bailiff Take it easy. Layton: Oh! What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? Judge: Please I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn - against the bees yesterday when one of their - Thank you! legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. Now here’s Don with the 5-day. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. The important thing is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria they got it from downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was that like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think that was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What do you think the humans will do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Say, could you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. Adam that's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Barry: No, Get up, Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. You get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step 29 correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. You know Bees are trained to fly kind of haphazardly, and as a result, quite often we don't make very good time. I actually once heard a pretty funny story about a bee... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer are we going allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who have all run perfectly legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Barry: Members of the jury, look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to these smoke machines in man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we going to do? - He's playing the species card. Barry: Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Barry: Vanessa, we won! Vanessa: Yay! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. Barry: I'm OK! Vanessa, do you know what this means? All the honey is finally going to belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey do you think is out there? All right. All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing?

My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What are you demand as a settlement? First, we're going to demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop.We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, big-headed bad-breath stink machine. I believe We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nausea for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Can't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting down honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on around here? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - No, they’re just home. They don't know what to do. They're laying out, they're sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Yeah, but sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... And now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. We have so much now. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. Barry:What happened here? Vanessa:That is not the half of it. Barry:Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And who's fault do you think that is? You know, I'm going to guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I guess I didn't think that bees not needing to make honey would affect all these others things. And it's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. Well, that's our whole SAT test right there. So you take away the produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? And I know this is also partly my fault. Barry: How about a suicide pact? Vanessa: How would we do it? Barry: I'll sting you, you step on me. Vanessa: That just kills you twice. Barry: Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I got to get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it up to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just want to say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, and it's all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. and I wanted to help you with your flower shop. Intead, I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. Nonetheless I have another idea, and it's greater than all my previous great ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, here’s what I’m thinking they have

the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we got do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. Vanessa: Bees. Barry: Park. Vanessa: Pollen! Barry: Flowers. Vanessa: Repollination! Barry: Across the nation! Barry: Alright Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. That a's nice brooch by the way. Thank you. It was a gift. Then once we're inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? Yeah! I could be the princess, and ...yes, I think You could be I’ve- The pea! Yes, I got it. - Sorry I'm late Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It’s supposed to be under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I’m going to go talk to the marshall. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby will do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. And once we’re at the airport there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - Did you and your insect pack your own float? - Yes. Has this float been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes and everything in your pockets?? - Can you remove your stinger. Sir? - That's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is going to work Vanessa. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. I'm afraid we have a bit of bad weather in the New York area. And looks like we're going to be experience a couple of hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I've got to get up there and talk to these guys. Be careful. Hey, can I get some help with this Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Excuse me, Captain, I'm in a real situation here. - What did you say, Hal? - I didn’t say anything Bee! No, no! Don't freak out! There's a chance my entire species... What are you doing? Stop! - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain speaking. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? I tried to talk to them, but then there was a Dustbuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded Now one's bald, one's in a boat, and they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Is there anyone onboard who has flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait a minute, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a very suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh off his stunning legal victory... That's Barry! ...is now attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! Well, we have an electrical storm in the area, and two individuals at the controls of a jumbo jet with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute Mr Ditchwater. There's a honey bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson's work and his no-account compadres. Haven't they done enough damage already. But isn't he your only hope right now? Come on, technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. The wings are too small their bodies are too big... Hey, hold on a second.

Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass doesn't make sense." - Get this on the air! - You got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. Mr Ditchwater, the way we work may be a mystery to you. Because making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you something about a small job. If you do it really well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to doing what we do best working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow.Black and yellow! - All:Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. You know what, This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait a minute, I think we were on autopilot that whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! Well, then it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I would do, and you copy me with the wings of the plane! You don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We happen to be in a lot of trouble here. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I don’t think I can do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. Listen to me You have got to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! You snap - Hold it! - Why? Come on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Hey Benson, have you got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. Alright you two, what do you say we drop this tin can on the blacktop? What blacktop? Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Adam: Come on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. But it's strong, and it's pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose of the plane down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready boys? Give me full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other flower! - Which flower? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant black and yellow flower pulsating made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Bring your tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This is the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid of it. Smell it. Full reverse! Easy just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Come on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius man! Genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Barry: Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're going to survive as a species, this is our moment! So, what do you say? Are we going to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains? Bees: We're bees! Male bee: Keychain! Barry: Then everyone, follow me! Except Keychain. Pollen Jock: Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. (places a pollen jock jacket on Barry and the 3 pollen jocks cheer while Vanessa gives him a thumbs up) Vanessa: Yay! Barry: I'm a

Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I got to do are the sleeves. (The pollen jocks toss Barry a nectar pack) Barry: Oh, yeah. Mom: (proudly) That's our Barry! (Martin nods proudly in agreement) Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Yes, can I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate here will be able to help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order for a wedding, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. Vanessa:You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? Who's next? Barry: All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Vanessa: Thank you, Barry! Ken: (Sees a sign that says "Vanessa and Barry: Flowers, Honey, Legal Advice" and becomes disgusted) Ken: Ugh! That bee is living my life! Andy: (guiding Ken protectively) Let it go, Kenny. Ken: When will this nightmare end?! Andy: Let it all go. Barry: Beautiful day to fly. Pollen Jock: Sure is. Barry: Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. Adam: You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! Barry: Me? Adam: Thinking bee, thinking bee! Get smart and start thinking bee! Barry: Gee! Adam: Flying here and buzzin' there. Barry: I'm lovin' the views. Adam: Listen to me cousin, every buzzer must use to be a bee! Barry: Or not to be. Adam: Start thinking bee! Adam: Barry, you got no occupation. Barry: What, you mean like pollination? Adam: Hey now! That's thinking bee! Barry: Start thinking bee! Adam: Listen to me fella, ain't you been on a tour? Can't cha' stripes of Black and yella. Barry: I just want to be sure! Adam: To be a bee! Barry: Start thinking bee! Can't I wait and see? Adam: No, Barry that's not to be! Be a busy little bee not a tizzy little bee! Barry: Alright, hold it, hold it, hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. (Adam: What it's like to be a thinking!) Barry: I'm sorry. Adam: What? Barry: I'm sorry, everyone. Can we stop here? Adam: Oh, Barry. Barry: I'm not making a major life decision in the middle of a huge musical production number! Adam: Alright, alright. Barry: Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

Omg

[kieraswriting]

Coffin Chapter Twenty-Five

Masterpost

Patton was sitting on the couch, as this seemed to be a two-person-only type of job.

“Ok! A little more! Just a little! Wait, wait, wait! Here! Don’t move!” Roman groaned. “He moved.”

Virgil was up on the roof, trying to get the antenna to catch a tv signal. With his better hearing, he could hear Roman yelling when the tv actually got a picture that wasn’t mostly static.

They’d been working at it for quite a long time now, and it didn’t seem that they were getting very close. At least they were having fun.

It was quite a while longer before the image was halfway clear, and Roman decided that it was as close as it would get.

And then the three of them sat down to watch a movie.

Patton patted his lap, and Virgil actually tipped over to lay down. He’d been so much more open to touch ever since they started practicing with the thralls. At first, Patton had been very worried that he felt like he owed it to them, but with how much Virgil leaned into his hand as he ran it through his hair, he seemed to enjoy it at least as much as Patton did.

Roman was more aggressive with his affection, grabbing Virgil in a headlock and scrubbing his knuckles over his head. But after clearing it up the first time, where Virgil had thought it was some kind of attack, he was smiling, and even laughed once, squirming out of the hold and tackling Roman back.

They still had to be careful with anything remotely silver-colored, as it made Virgil freeze up just by seeing it, and if they moved towards him with it he would go into a full blown panic attack.

But other than that, the last few days had brought them closer and closer together. A little stir-crazy, but they were managing that pretty well, or at least Patton thought so.

Virgil hadn’t quite figured out how to manage the thrall, but from what Patton heard, it was a pretty finicky thing to manage anyway. And that was what all the practice was for. He’d get it! Patton was sure of it.

Virgil slowly melted more and more into Patton’s lap, his breathing slowing until it was barely there. Apparently vampires didn’t really need to breathe, and the habit of unconscious breathing slowed until it eventually stopped. Emile had explained that to him, and that Remy didn’t breathe at all while he was sleeping, and sometimes when he was awake too. It weirded Patton out, but he was getting a little better at ignoring it.

Once Virgil was completely asleep, and the movie ended, Patton switched to the news.

“—but everyone’s freaking out!” A woman was saying. “I feel like I can barely let my kids out of the house!”

“You understand the reasons why, right?” The interviewer asked.

“Of course I do, but this is still just too freaky! My dad turned out to be a vampire. My dad! He could’ve been assaulting my kids when he came to our house! And what does that mean for me? Am I a part vampire? How am I supposed to get the vampire part out of me?”

“From all reports, it is not possible to be a percentage of a vampire. You either are or are not.” The interviewer said calmly, as if he was reading off of a script.

“Then how are we going to stop the vampires? Who knows how far they’ve infiltrated!”

“I’ve been assured that they are being rounded up very thoroughly.”

“But it just takes one, doesn’t it? And that one could infect how many people?”

The interviewer turned to the camera. “This is why we’re trying to be sure and get every one. If you know, or suspect someone of being a vampire, please call the authorities. There are fool-proof tests, there is no way we will accidentally arrest anyone innocent.”

“Well, that’s good.” The woman said. “But if vampires are real, and we’re practically crawling with them, who knows what else could be? Are werewolves real? Are ghosts? How would we even know?”

“There have not been any confirmed reports of other paranormal creatures, however the government is keeping the possibility in consideration.”

“I should hope so. This is all too dangerous! I don’t know why they’re trying to put any of them to work, it’d be safer to just kill them all.”

Patton felt a minute stiffening in Virgil. He stroked his hand over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Virge, I’ll turn it off.”

Virgil’s eyes opened, and he turned to mostly hide his face. “Thanks.”

“Virgil, none of us think this way. Not for a second.”

Virgil nodded silently.

Patton rubbed more firmly. “We’ll keep you safe, sweetheart. No one’s taking you.”

“It’s… it’s not… you’re… stuck up here.”

“What do you mean?”

Virgil rolled back to look up at Patton. “You’re stuck up here trying to keep me safe. You both just left your whole lives behind, and I’m— I-I’m not—“

Patton put a finger over his mouth. “Don’t you dare say you aren’t worth it. Don’t you dare.”

Virgil bit his lip, his forehead furrowing. He gave a slight nod. “But—“

“No buts, mister. Do you think I would lie to you?”

Virgil shook his head.

“And I say you’re worth every bit of it.”

“I do too,” Roman said, butting his way into the conversation. “You’ve been adopted. I even got Logan in on it. And you aren’t getting out of this family that easily.”

“Roooman, that was a surprise!” Patton protested, but he wasn’t really upset.

Virgil, on the other hand, looked awfully close to crying.

“I—I don’t understand!” He said, his voice cracking. “Why do you even want me?”

Patton was instantly ready with a million reasons, but Roman spoke first.

“I don’t think that’s true. I think you could understand, you just don’t believe us.” Roman put a hand on Virgil’s knee. “But we’re going to stay here, and keep wanting you, and keeping you, and making sure you’re as safe as we can make you, until you do believe it.”

And then Virgil did cry, curling into Patton and reaching out a hand for Roman. Roman grabbed his hand and moved closer, sandwiching Virgil between him and Patton.

•^*^••

Thomas dropped to his knees as the pressure released, shuddering.

“Atta’kid, Tommy!” Remus crowed. “Now you know how to get out of a thrall. A baby one, anyway.”

Dee went straight to Thomas, scanning his face intently. “Are you ok?”

“M’fine,” Thomas said, though really he felt like he was about to throw up.

“Now Dee can try! And you can get out of his, and then he’ll learn how to do it better, and—“

“Shut up, Remus!” Dee growled. “Thomas isn’t doing anything else for a while.”

Remus froze, and then pouted. “Fiiiine, you two are learning, I guess.”

Thomas slowly got up, his legs wobbly. “I can— try again. Just give me a few minutes.”

“No.” Dee said firmly, hovering nearby to catch Thomas if he started to fall. “I’m already regretting letting you try this. No more. Not today.”

As much as his body wanted to quit, and as sore as his mind was, Thomas was worried. He suspected that he and Remus had the exact same worry, that something was coming, and that they wouldn’t be strong enough, wouldn’t be skilled enough. They had to keep practicing. With Remus as a teacher, as crude as he was, and with Dee’s skill and Thomas’s stubbornness, they might just make it. If they didn’t quit just cause Thomas was tired. He felt his own weakness keenly, but he refused to be the weak link that made them all get hurt. Not if he could help it.

“An hour. I’ll rest for an hour, and we’ll try again.”

Dee frowned, far more concerned than angry. “Three.”

Thomas sighed, and turned it into a chuckle. “Two, and we get some dinner. Deal?”

“I’m driving,” Dee insisted.

Thomas was glad to let him have that, and fell asleep almost as soon as the car started moving.

•^*^••

“Come on, you can’t stay inside forever,” Remy said, rolling his eyes behind his glasses.

“It’s dangerous!” Logan insisted.

“For who, babes?!” Remy snapped. “For who? Cause it sure as hell ain’t you. Come on, Em wants to go out and I’m taking you with us before I can regret it.”

“I don’t want you to be going out either!” Logan said. “If someone touched you with silver, or recognized me, we’d be done for. Emile is the safest one, let him go if he wants.”

Remy’s eyes narrowed. “Hand me your silver.”

“What?”

“Hand it. Now. I know you have some.”

Logan frowned deeply, but reached into his pocket and pulled out the bolt he still kept there out of habit.

Remy took it in his hand, rolled it around, and passed it back without changing his expression. His skin was reddish and irritated, but he hadn’t even flinched.

“I drink. Coffee. Every day, babes. I’m not getting us caught over a little silver. Now stop being a wimp and go get in the car.”

“But—“

“Look, I can pass it off as an allergy,” Remy snapped. “If anyone gets us caught it’ll be you, acting all jittery.”

Logan reluctantly walked out to the car, where Emile was waiting.

“Remy, what’d you do?”

“I touched his damn silver, leave me alone.”

Emile glanced between the two of them, concerned, but left Remy alone.

The dinner actually went well, even if Logan was tense. No one paid them any attention, other than the waiter, and even that didn’t seem like too much.

“I apologize,” Logan said, as they got back into the car. “I should… perhaps, be willing to trust you more.”

“Yeah, whatever, I was a prick too. It’s chill.”

Emile may have mostly hidden the proud smile, but the emotion wasn’t at all hidden, making Remy turn and stare out the window for the next while.

“What do you think about popcorn and a movie once we get back?” Emile asked.

“I’d take the popcorn,” Remy said.

“Depending on which movie, I’d certainly be willing to partake with the both of you.”

Remy scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smile.

•^*^••

“They’ve taken my son,” Liam said firmly. “I will see them go down.”

“Good man,” his superior praised, slapping him on the back. “And if there’s any way we can get your son back; you’ll have all the resources at your disposal.”

And with that, he handed over direct command of all the hunters in the state to Liam Hart.

[srsly-messed-up-fruitloop]

Supper’s Ready

Word Count: 2,033

Summary: A couple of weeks have passed since Danny’s accident with the portal. Fortunately, so far, he hasn’t experienced any symptoms at all, not even ghostly ones. Until one day, he begins throwing up ectoplasm.

Or, my take on Portal!Danny

Warning: Includes depictions of nausea and vomiting so...read at your own discretion

Read on AO3 or under the cut

Danny awoke with a groan. He clutched his stomach and squeezed his eyes together as a wave of nausea hit him. If he could, he would’ve laid there forever, curled up in a ball fighting the sick feeling in his stomach. But it kept getting worse, and worse, until his instincts drove him to blindly stumble to his bathroom. Kneeling before his toilet, he held his mouth open, wishing for whatever he ate earlier to just come out already. It felt like an eternity before his dinner left him. Panting, he laid his cheek against the toilet seat as he felt the nausea starting to subside.

He doesn’t remember the last time he threw up. Probably when he was a kid. It couldn’t have been mom’s cooking, right? He recalled the glass of milk he had before bed. It did taste a bit funky.

He stood up, sparing a glance at his dinner once again. He was just about to flush it away until something caught his eye. A single translucent drop of something that glowed brightly green. Jazz probably did have a point about not keeping the ecto-weenies in the fridge.

A couple of weeks have passed since Danny’s accident with the portal. Unfortunately, the portal remained unfunctional since the brief moment when he had activated it. At first, Jazz and his friends were extremely concerned for him. After all, he was practically electrocuted. But seeing that there were no lasting effects, over time they’ve let go of the incident. Things resumed back to normal, save for Jazz becoming a lot more protective of her little brother.

Danny flushed and rinsed the foul taste from his mouth. He made a mental note to throw out the milk in the morning as he climbed back into his sheets.

~

A few days later, Danny was sitting at his desk in his bedroom, struggling to understand why he kept getting this one math question wrong. He swears he’s following the same steps in the textbook example. He was just about to give up and move onto the next question when his mouth suddenly felt dry. No, not again. 

Ever since that night he puked, Danny’s stomach really wasn’t having it. More and more often the sick feeling would return, except nothing came out of it. He rested his head on his homework, waiting for the nausea to pass. At this point he just wanted whatever bad food, stomach bug, or whatever to leave him already. Maybe he should ask his parents to take him to the doctor.

At that thought, his gut uncomfortably lurched and he barely grabbed his wastebasket in time. It’s a shame those tater tots from the cafeteria had to go to waste. Just when he thought he was finished, he felt a painful jolt in his abdomen and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt something, with an almost slimy-like texture pour out. The sensation of it running up his throat made him feel even sicker than he was.

He took a moment to breathe before opening his eyes again. He almost dropped the bin at what he saw. It was the same glowing green substance he saw that other night. Except this time, it took up three quarters of his wastebasket! He couldn’t even see his lunch from earlier.

Slightly panicked now, he quickly scrambled up from his desk chair to get rid of it. If Jazz saw him now, she’d never let him hear the end of it. 

After flushing it away, he turned to the sink to clean himself up. But, the sight of himself in the mirror made him freeze.

He saw that green fluid, staining his white shirt as it steadily dripped from his chin. He almost gagged when he still felt it present in his mouth. But what truly frightened him was his now green irises, glowing brightly in the same intensity as the fluid. 

What was wrong with him?

~

Ectoplasm. That’s what was inside him.

Over dinner, his dad was excitedly explaining how he had extracted the substance from a ghost. His mom joined in, explaining its scientific properties. And while Jazz expressed her disgust at bringing something like that to the dinner table, the whole conversation was lost to Danny’s ears. All he saw was the small vial his dad was showing off, containing the same substance he had been heaving out daily in the last week.

~

Danny was in the middle of an English test when he felt it. It wasn’t all that painful anymore, and he’s gotten used to holding it down just long enough until he could get to a washroom. Still, it always was very uncomfortable. And inconvenient, especially at times like now. He raised up his hand and cringed as Lancer stared at him suspiciously.

“Yes, Mr. Fenton?”

“Can I—uh...go to the bathroom?”

Lancer sighed as he glanced at the clock. “Fine. Please hurry back though, you only have 20 minutes left for the test.”

“Thanks Mr. Lancer,” Danny mumbled as he got up from his seat. He fought the feeling of Wes glaring a hole in the back of his head, along with the weird stares from some of his other classmates. Sam and Tucker worriedly watched as their friend left the classroom.

Alone, in the bathroom, Danny used his hands to brace himself against both sides of the stall, as he crouched in front of the toilet, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He hated doing this at school.

He counted to three and then let go, expelling the seemingly endless supply of ectoplasm within him. Every time he did this, there was always that little nagging voice at the back of his head, telling him that he really should tell someone about this. His parents should know what to do, right? But, every time he attempts to do so, he just...he can’t go through with it. Hearing them rant about their pure hatred for ghosts and the inventions they’ve created just to torture them makes his stomach lurch for a whole other reason. He knows they love him...but...what if they try to hurt him?

As for Jazz and his friends, he honestly can’t bring himself to burden them more after the portal accident. After all this time, he still occasionally sees the guilt in Sam’s eyes. Besides, who’s to say this won’t go away on its own...right?

He wiped his chin with the back of his hand after he felt nothing else coming up. However, he was greatly mistaken. 

The next moment, sheer agony shot through his abdomen, causing him to lose balance and hit his back against the stall’s door. It never hurt this bad before!

His body went rigid when he felt a frightening chill freeze his insides. A burning green—almost yellow light was all that he could see as he was overwhelmed by the brutal sensation of his insides being ripped apart. His mouth was forced open by an invisible force as something else crept up his painfully inflamed throat. It wasn’t ectoplasm this time.

Panting heavily, all Danny could do was lay there against the door as the blinding light and pain gradually faded away. The first thing he saw after regaining his vision was a spectral tail disappearing into the ceiling.

~

“Good morning, this is Tiffany Snow reporting Amity Park’s latest breaking news. Recently, we have received several reports of ghost sightings. Witnesses have expressed that these ghosts have been trespassing their homes, destroying property, and terrorizing civillians. The Amity Police Depar…”

“Those no good specters!”

“Jack, honey, do you know what this means?”

“Of course Maddie, the town needs us!”

“But the sudden increase in ghost activity, it must mean something…”

“What are you sayin’ Mads?”

“Where would these ghosts be coming from? Natural portals don’t stay open long enough for any significant entities to escape the Ghost Zone. Unless...maybe something is causing them to stay open longer?”

“You might be onto something, gosh Mads you’re so clever! Well, better get right to sealing up those portals for good. Oh, I got the perfect idea for an invention!” Jack exclaimed as ran downstairs into the lab.

“Danny?”

Danny just realized he’d been holding his breath throughout his parents’ conversation. At the sound of his mom’s voice directed at him, he dropped his spoon. “Y-yea mom?” he stuttered as he anxiously gazed at her.

She was holding a silver-gray thermos with metallic green details. “Today, I’m packing your lunch in the Fenton thermos. We’d be horrible parents let you kids go to school defenseless. Just remember to point and push, okay?”

“Um, okay. Thanks mom,” Danny mumbled. 

She kissed his head before he could protest and said, “I’m going to help your father out. Have a great day at school sweetie.” 

After his mom disappeared downstairs into the lab, Danny morosely glanced at his half-eaten cereal. He’s probably not gonna keep it down anyways. Fenton thermos in hand, he grabbed his backpack and left to catch the school bus.

~

Danny could almost say he’s gotten used to being nauseous all the time. Now when he threw up, more often than not an actual ghost would come up. But now, the guilt from causing all the recent ghost activity grew with each passing day. Yet, no matter how much he’d tried stopping himself, all he did was make the pain even more unbearable. Something was seriously wrong with him.

One day, he recovered quickly enough to see an octopus-like ghost escape into the school’s hallways. As he exited the washroom, he saw the ghost hurling textbooks at students and scaring anyone that got near. 

This was all his fault. He winced as he saw poor Mikey get his glasses knocked off his face by his own math textbook. He had to do something. Wait. Danny reached into his bag, finding the now empty Fenton thermos.

“Just point and push, right?” he muttered to himself as he took aim at the ectopus. A light blue beam shot out the thermos, enveloping the ghost and pulling it inside. Danny blinked as he noticed the small display on the flask read 25% CAPACITY.

“Huh, that was easy.”

~

Using the Fenton thermos to capture the ghosts really helped ease some of his guilt. However, all too soon the thermos had hit its capacity and Danny had no idea what to do with it.

He’d secretly borrowed another one from his parents and already that one was full too. He needed to figure out something quick.

“Hey dad?”

“What’s up Danno?”

“Uh...how do you get rid of ghosts?”

“Son, I’m so glad to see you taking an interest in the family business! Me and your mom are still finding out a way to get rid of those spooks for good. For now, we’ve got the Fenton Ghost Weasel and the Fenton thermos to catch them.”

“But, what if you run out of space to keep them?”

Danny’s dad scratched his head in thought. “Never really thought much about that. I guess when the time comes, we just gotta send those suckers back where they came from. Maybe by then, we’ll find those portals that are causing us all this trouble.”

Back where they came from? 

By now, Danny knows that the accident with his parents’ portal had to have something to do with his...condition. And considering that all the ghosts are coming from inside him...maybe the portal did end up working after all. Except, not in the way he’d expected. He tried not to think too much about it. How an opening to an entirely different dimension was...inside him.

But, he had a more immediate problem to worry about. And as much as the solution grossed him out, he had no choice. 

Currently sat on his bed, Danny stared at the two full flasks in front of him. His dad’s words rang in his ears as he unscrewed the cap off one. His stomach turned uncomfortably as he spared a glance at its contents.

Bringing up the thermos to his lips, he squeezed his eyes shut to brace himself for what he was going to do next.

Here goes nothing.

[in-tua-deep]

What are your thoughts on Vanya’s book? I’m torn between knowing it was an empowering thing for her and being like damn girl, you were all abused, not cool putting that out there without their consent. The lines I’ve seen from it were about how Vanya’s siblings treated her but I don’t see how she can talk about their childhood without the abuse coming up. Do you think Vanya would have to apologize for the book as part of improving the siblings relationships?

I think that Vanya’s book was very important for her to write - for herself. I don’t think she should have published it without the consent of her siblings, because Vanya does not exist in a vacuum. If you think Allison was not absolutely grilled over the contents of that book in interviews and it didn’t continuously pop up in her world you’re wrong. And anyone who both knew the other siblings and read the book might make comments or ask questions or make assumptions. Vanya wrote an entire book about how terribly she was treated and then pointed the finger at her siblings.

Because the issue is this: Vanya was abused. Horrifically and terribly abused and neglected. She was drugged for the majority of her life against her consent, frequently emotionally abused and belittled, and isolated from the rest of her siblings. She has a right to be angry. BUT. That does not erase the fact that her siblings were all also abused and victims. And Vanya was so wrapped up in her own pain she couldn’t really see that. 

Of course, the reverse is also true. The others were all wrapped up in their own trauma to the extent that they never considered Vanya’s point of view or the ways that Vanya was being abused.

But imagine for a moment that you father raises you as a child soldier. You and all your siblings except one. While you’re running drills and learning to fight and gathering bruises and the only time you’re allowed to yourself is half an hour during the weekend - the life of the one sibling who is allowed to pursue her own passions (violin) and is generally ignored by your drill sergeant father seems to have it pretty darn good wouldn’t you think? You’d give your left leg to be invisible or not be forced to do the training. You’d give your left leg to have her freedom.

And then she publishes an entire book painting you the bad guy because, what, you didn’t include her in your half an hour of freetime? You had better things to do trying to survive your father’s regime than take a few to play happy family with her? You look at this book and ignore all the emotional abuse and gaslighting that she’s highlighting because you think she had it easy, and she’s saying in here that she was jealous of the attention your father gave you. Jealous. As if gaining your dad’s attention was ever a good thing. 

She spills a whole bunch of family secrets. Discusses your brother’s death, something you find very private (maybe you even witnessed it and she didn’t), with the entire world. She drags up all the shitty things you did as a child. A child raised in an emotionally and honestly probably physically abusive household from which your only adult human role model was your asshole father. He built you a robotic mother who obeys his orders and parrots his words. The only other person is a chimpanzee who also only ever seems to regurgitate Reginald’s ideas and always defended him even though he was hurting you. Abusing you.

Vanya deserved to write down those thoughts and discuss them. With a therapist. Or friends. Or anonymously!  Maybe a blog and give everyone pseudonyms and work through it that way. Because like it or not, her siblings did hurt her. They probably gaslit her about how bad things were, blowing her off because clearly her life wasn’t that bad. And they’d probably roll their eyes and call her lucky that she wasn’t included in training anyway. And Vanya would have to grit her teeth and smile and agree because it’s six against one.

Vanya was abused. But that doesn’t mean her siblings weren’t equally abused. Honestly I bet if Vanya had called up Diego and was like “hey I’m writing a whole book about how much growing up with old Reggie fucking sucked, thinking about publishing, wanna help?” Diego would be the first one on board like “HELL YEAH let’s ruin dad’s whole career I have like, seven stories about child endangerment off the top of my head let’s go”

the book we deserved to have was a collab by the whole family offering different points of views and discussing the trauma their siblings didn’t get to see - like private training. 

So what I’m saying is that Vanya does write a sequel to her book. Except this time it’s with everyone sharing. That’s the apology. The opportunity to set the record straight with what they’re comfortable sharing with the world. 

Luther can talk about never feeling good enough, can talk about his isolation at the top of the pyramid and his relationship with Allison who was also there. He can talk about impossible standards and his father never using his name. Strained muscles and terrible testing. The nonconsensual body modification and the isolation on the moon. The realization that four years of his life had been wasted because his dad never even bothered to read the reports - he didn’t even care enough to try. He can talk about the fact that he was so raised up as a child that he feels like a failure at everything he does now. 

Allison can talk about her father forcing her to rumor her sister when they were both four years old. She can talk about the training, having to rumor her siblings and then later the random people Reginald would bring to her. Delivery men and door to door salesmen and girlscouts who were always rumored to forget after. (And then the homeless people, the people no one would miss. The ones who weren’t rumored to forget after because they didn’t go home. She doesn’t write about them though). She can talk about rumoring her way through life and never learning how to get anything without forcing people to give it to her. Constantly on the offensive. The way that’s impacted her career, her relationships.

Diego can talk about never being good enough. His stutter that Reginald had no patience with. The training, being forced to throw knives at the one person in the world he really truly cares about as she smiles at him with her plastic smile. Trying desperately to keep Klaus from drowning under the weight of Reginald’s expectations when he was barely treading water himself after Ben’s death. Leaving the first chance he did and never looking back. The way he still tried to prove himself by joining the police academy, and when he failed at that by becoming a vigilante. 

Klaus can talk about his father throwing him in a fucking mausoleum. Being scared of the dark and claustrophobic. The ghosts he sees screaming behind his eyelids and sometimes even when his eyes are open. The one escape that he found being looked down on by everyone around him when he was only doing his very best to survive because the sad truth is that he could not live that way. Not how it was. He can talk about Ben showing up after his death, and nobody believing him. Being homeless. Living on the streets with no one but a ghostly follower for company. Every moment of sobriety in that house was one of fear - and Klaus is just so very tired of being afraid. (Maybe he can bring himself to talk about Dave, the one person that made him feel safe and protected and loved and how he lost him. Maybe he can’t.)

Ben can talk through Klaus about his own life. He was forced to kill people against his will with a power he couldn’t really control and that he was afraid of. He ended missions covered in blood that he never wanted to shed. Then his death which was reportedly very bad. Then showing up again and only being able to talk to Klaus. Not being able to hug him or stop him or intervene - forced to become a spectator to his brother overdosing over and over again. Loving him but being so angry that he’s squandering the chances Ben wishes he could once again have. 

Five can talk about growing up pushing the boundaries and the way the others only seemed to notice when Reginald praised him and never when he was punished. And he was punished. Reginald tried over and over again to get Number Five to come to heel and never quite succeeded. Every point Five gained in his own personal score was gained through blood and bruises and willpower. There’s all that to talk about, and then there’s the time travel and forty years of isolation and Dolores and becoming an assassin and his plethora of issues regarding that he doesn’t even need to get into to make a whole book of his own. Coming back and seeing that cold portrait sitting on the mantle and knowing that Reginald used his presumed death in order to further control his siblings. 

And they write it together, sitting in the living room and contradicting each other’s memories of events (”No, Dad caught us because you tripped on the table!” “Nuh uh! It was because Klaus was whispering too loudly!” “Actually guys looking back I’m pretty sure Dad just checked the cameras and noticed us leaving.”) and maybe they don’t publish it! They don’t have to! Or maybe they do, taking out all the bits about, you know, murder and all of that sorry Ben they could probably just downgrade the language to ‘hurting a lot of people’ though I mean. He’s dead it’s not like they can charge him with excessive use of force at this point. 

And it’s a bonding experience. And they all come out of it better understanding that they were all traumatized and abused and groomed and gaslighted and neglected and just overall their childhoods were shit. Five will defend Vanya’s book with his fucking life and probably is instrumental in making the others see that just because her abuse looked different doesn’t make it less valid. And he’s also instrumental in making Vanya see that just because the others abuse looked different doesn’t make it any less valid, either. 

Do yeah, have enough material for a sequel? There’s enough material for a fucking series. 

Honestly though genuinely do you know what I think would have been a way better and more empowering move on Vanya’s part? Writing a fiction novel about an ordinary child in a world of magic and superpowers who saves the world. Writing about her own life through the lens of fiction. Basing her characters on real people, yeah, but not writing a tell all book about people whose lives it would very much still affect. Plus, I bet the others would actually read the book at least and recognize it. 

I mean, if they read an entire book about a character who was excluded and belittled and ignored and told she wasn’t worth anything because she wasn’t special in the context of this fictional world, I think they would sympathize. And then if Vanya told them hey, actually this is me projecting and I really did feel this way a lot then it might go over a sight better than hey I’m writing about our childhoods and all your friends are going to read about it

and honestly?? I think that’s a story that needs to be told to other little girls as well. Maybe they aren’t literally being told they’re ordinary because they don’t have superpowers, but there’s a lot of girls who are told they aren’t special and can’t do things and having an ordinary character save the world is an important and inspiring narrative. And it might help Vanya get some closure, because she gets to come up with an end to the story. Wish fulfillment. She gets to write about an ordinary little girl who saved the world. Or maybe she didn’t save the world. Maybe she saved her piece of the world and left the rest up to the people with powers. Small acts of kindness that change everything, for some people.

(and it would reach more people than whoever reads autobiographies and memoirs)

I have a lot of feelings about the book as you can probably tell lmao

I just think the book could have been handled better on Vanya’s part. But I also think she had a right to write it because she had a LOT of stuff to work through. Honestly I think the book originally began from an exercise her therapist gave her and took on a life of its own until it reached the publisher. But like I said, she doesn’t exist in a vacuum and her actions have effects on other people - specifically her family. 

Granted, it’s not like I’ve read the book in its entirety and can’t judge it because of that. But the others had a right to their privacy and I don’t blame them for feeling angry and betrayed because of that invasion of privacy I mean damn. And I doubt Vanya put any of the good stuff in there really, mostly bad. Because that’s how she was feeling.

(If I wrote a book about my childhood with my brother - I could talk about how he sold our joint runescape account without consultation despite all the hours I put in. I could talk about him chasing me through the house or eating my chocolate that I was saving. I could talk about some of his shitty views and his self-isolation, how he would call me stupid and never let me play with him. When he purposefully ditched me in Mini-Amsterdam when I was six and I had to find someone to call my mum for me. Maybe the time he left me on the school bus when I fell asleep next to him. When he pushed me into a bank of nettles, ouch. Or I could talk about how when my balloon popped when I was seven, he gave me his balloon. Or the time he won me a toy starfish on a crane machine. Or when he took me to school after my surgery so I could pick up my homework and when I went back before I was ready he was the one to pick me up again. Or the time when my sister and her friend were being horrible and he let me hang out with him and his friend in their secret base even though he usually didn’t give me the time of day.)

At the end of the day, you can frame people any way you want, and Vanya was going for the bad stuff. Because she was hurting. And she hurt them. And she needs to acknowledge that, so yeah I do think she needs to apologize for writing the book without asking or consulting in order to improve their relationship. I think the others need to apologize to her as well for what little shits they were as kids, because their own abuse is a reason but it doesn’t excuse what they did, either. Vanya was abused and they hurt her and they need to apologize for that. But that didn’t give Vanya the right to hurt them back, so she has to apologize as well if that makes sense??

I dunno this ended up longer than I thought it would oof but I hope it answers your question!!

[littlelightingstriker]

Disclaimer: this post is not made to cause anger or to insult the Serbian government, it is simply made to report on the news what has been going this past days. Some of the information might be to strong, so please read on your own risk. People who are mention in this story will remain anonymous for their own safety.

#Serbia now:

On the 7th of July,2020, president Vučić announced that Belgrade will be closed and have a curfew between Friday and Monday and that more than five people should not be in the same space together. He talked about a lot of things like how many people are being tested, the possible 'lies' the government has been saying, Novi Pazar, a city located in south-west Serbia, who is in a critical situation because of COVID-19, respirators and many more. He talked about how people need to understand that this virus in not a joke in any possible way and people need to take more action and protect themselves and their family. The problem is half of the population does not believe the virus is either real or that it does not have the affect to enter the human body that fast. People are confused and keep asking the same question that nobody can answer. When he announced the possibility that people will have to stay the whole weekend in their homes, many people were frustrated with the decision and did not want to take his words for real. At the evening, massive numbers of people gathered at the National Assembly and started protesting. The protesting was not in anyway ' peaceful ' but ended being a disappointing vandalism.

Three cars and a police van were on fire. The damage was immediately posted. Hundreds of thousands of dinars are worth of damage.

Torches, tear gas, oysters and glass bottles were being thrown between the protesters and police.

Many people were injured and many police man were hurt. "It was a disaster. We tried stopping them but there were to many." said one policeman.

One of the protesters wanted to break in the National Assembly but were thrown out by the police.

Two men stopped an ambulance that was driving to the hospital with rotations. The two men were punished for their actions and many were disappointed with them.

Protesters DID NOT WANT any politician to join them and act like they care for citizens' rights.

Ana Brnabić was disappointed to see citizens' of Belgrade acting like 'h**li**ns'.

Kosovo was/is also another reason why people turned against Vučić.

Vučić was in the National Assembly but quickly evacuated with the situation going around.

A video of three men being hit and be*ten by the police after rejecting to leave the park was filmed and posted on different sites. The three men were laying on the ground in pain as the police left them.

A man, lost his father due to COVID 19 and blamed the government for lying about having enough respirators. He claimed his father was not given the treatment that was promised and was one of the most critical patient (and many other) in Belgrade. "This is for you, dad. I know you are watching and you are proud. I love you,dad. This is for you!" Said the man. After this video resurfaced the internet, everyone was angry that president Vučić lied about 'having enough respirators' and many left comments that they were not surprised and what a disappointment this country is for believing the words that come from the television.

Protesters are being accused of spreading COVID 19.

97% had masks but still did not distance.

Lockdown will be decided by the crisis staff.

The 8th and 9th of July,2020:

President Vučić has decided he will NOT make the decision about Belgrade. He admitted he has no right to make a decision he isn't to sure how to control.

Many faces were supporting the protest and they were not citizens' of Serbia. -Vučić.

Criminals were mention that they were the ones who were 'trashing' Belgrade.

COVID 19 has no connection with voting, football games etc.

Vučić kept bringing people down while making his people 'world leaders' and 'only hopes for Serbia'.

05.10.2000. is a wish protesters want to come true. ( The fall of Milošević)

Vučić is in shock why people keep bringing his country down while he is doing everything to make it 'grow'.

There will be rules for Belgrade no matter what.

Novi Sad, Niš, Kragujevac also started protesting.

Tonight (9th July.) protesters are peacefuly protesting and tend to keep it that way.

Politicians are calling out h**li*ga*ns and cri**na** after 'destroying Belgrade' and doing vandalism 'on purpose'.

Many people are angry that Belgrade is being in the situation where it's not safe anymore and being trashed by some idiots who don't even live there or came from a different city. They are accused of 'pretending to be Belgraders'. It is proven that they are more than 80% Belgraders in the world then in the own city. Belgrade is composed from all citizens' across Serbia.

Students are protesting after being told they have to leave their dorms for the third time because they need to be prepared for COVID 19 patients. "We don't feel safe. We want our rights!".

Protesters are being called out for fighting for their rights.

Politicians are calling protesters 'criminal slaves' for wanting to remove Vučić.

"We aren't allowed to stand for our rights. They tend to keep us locked when we thought everything is going undercontrol. They are playing for our rights. I lost my friend because she was told to stay home even though she had other medical problems. Instead of celebrating her birthday, I was mourning her name and crying. He (Vučić) doesn't care about us, he just wants the money. He has it. He is building Belgrade on Dunabe and he still thinks we care about some stupid project. How are we not going to protest? I do not like and I am against harmful and disgusting behaviour some people showed the first day and even now, but we can't just stand here and pretend everything is okay. He stole votes and as soon as he secured his seat, this country got even worse. How are we suppose to live here? How can we try and stay positive after everything he has done. My family lives in Kosovo. He gave it. He just sold that land like nothing. He doesn't care about people. He acts like a human but even the facade can't cover his personality. No one can look up to us and that's okay. We don't want '99 again. We want peace. We all want, all of us, we want to breath not to feel pressured. We tell our kids to get the hell away from this country and to never look back. There is no future here. We all know that. He always breaks his promises. Kids grow up and become adults, what children is he talking about?! Where is their future if he is only building Belgrade? What about the South? East? West? Where are their rights?! We are all equal and we all deserve so much more. We have to pray and hope for the best, but in this life we are always going to be left down. " a woman gave her thoughts about protesting.

Other reason's why people want to dismiss Vučić:

He promised everyone 100 Euros when COVID 19 became serious in Serbia. He realised his mistake and ended up giving the money to retired people and people with special needs. Other had to register. He went from helping to you have to do this so I don't embarrass myself.

People were paid to come and cheer for Vučić when he would give speeches.

He lied about the respirators.

People believe that the number of positive patients fell just so that elections could happen.

After elections, Serbia became the worst in numbers of positive cases.

Before elections 50-94 cases, 10-20 respirator patients, almost everyone is cured, Serbia is almost done with COVID 19.

After elections 300+ cases, 120-130 respirator patients, 1000+ in hospitals, 1000+ in isolation, Serbia the most critical on Balkan.

He knew Novi Pazar was going to blow up. He did not do anything.

Belgrade hospitals do not have respirators.

Belgrade has a population of 1 million residents and yet doesn't have the medical needs.

He doesn't have a full government. What kind of country is Serbia then?!

Something that cannot be answered:

Why do people who die from other reasons are COVID 19 victims?

How come the number of cases grew?

Did the government lied all this time?

Was professor Kon right all this time?

Why are people not in hospitals if positive?

How to isolate if you do not have your own bathroom and kitchen?

Why are there no punishments for not wearing a mask?

Is there really a vaccine?

Is the virus real? Is it possible to make it disappear?

Opinion:

Vandalism is not the answer. People have every right to judge Vučić. He is not that bad, but he is not a sweetheart either. Luckily people are peacefully protesting and want to learn to have manners. The police is trying everything to not fight the protesters. Punishing other people for the damage is not right. Being called disgusting names from politicians needs to STOP! We are all people with a heart, we say and do things we should not but that is not the point. Being called a cri**na* is disgusting. Everyone is frustrated with the virus going on but we have to be reasonable. If you are someone who lost a loved one due to COVID 19, my heart goes for you and everyone you love and care about. This is a scary year. It's breaking my heart so many people died not only because of COVID 19. The virus is not the main problem here. People are. This going on in Belgrade is eye opening. It shows people want a break. They want freedom. They want, like every other country, to feel safe. I totally understand the point of view from some people. I ,too, also know there is no future in Serbia until someone really comes and actually cares for people. If territory and fake promises are more relevant then a person breathing, my God save us.

Comment's about Vučić

We are a small country and we never were known for good things, but honestly, how can we have that if we don't have a leader?

Lies and lies. Breaking promises. Being disgusted with people that don't like your way of ''handling" a country. Manipulate people and bringing them down. Having politicians spit on your people?

Is that a joke or is Vučić going to take this seriously.

Kosovo is more important than people?

How cruel do you have to be?

How disgusting that sounds.

We are told people are dying for God's sake and yet you talk for 2 hours and that is it.

Tito is rolling in his grave.

Liar!

Why does anyone expect something good from Vučić?

Oh Serbia, poor little Serbia.

- comments from different sources.

For more information of these protests, feel free to look them up. I gave my personal opinion and I missed a lot of information about this protests but I shared the ones that needed to be put here.

If you are someone from Serbia, feel free to speak and to be free. If you wanted a change and did not get it, either run or keep blessing this country. You deserve much more. You'll get past everything. Keep running. Fight peacefully. Be normal and be mature. I wish everyone so much and pray everyday we get some peace and actually feel like people.

Don't look up to politicians. Nušić told us everything we need to know.

Be safe while protesting! Keep yourself safe and don't let a politician ruin your life. Bring back the rights and the light we all need.

Bring Serbia where she should be.

Not underneath.