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47crayons · 4 years ago

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so, you want to write a musician?

about me: i play viola and have experience in symphony orchestras, string orchestras, string quartets (+ a few other small ensembles), and solo performances. i've done some light composition, and have friends/family who play other instruments. while my musical history is extensive, by no means do i know everything or speak for everyone.

this guide will focus on classical music/how to portray classical musicians and things that aren't as easily researched.

quick overview of instruments in a typical symphony orchestra

upper strings (violin, viola), lower strings (cello, (double) bass; i've seen viola included here too, but it's more commonly classified as upper strings)

strings also technically includes harp and piano

woodwinds (flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon)

depending on instrumentation, they may also have piccolo, english horn, bass clarinet, contrabassoon

saxophones are not traditionally in symphony orchestras due to it being a relative newer instrument! but this is changing because more contemporary composes are including sax parts

brass (trumpet, trombone, bass trombone, tuba, euphonium)

percussion (depends heavily on instrumentation, but common instruments are bass drum, timpani, snare, crash cymbal, xylophone, marimba)

some things you should research

where the hands are supposed to go!! i'd recommend you look at pictures of professionals in orchestra settings (ny phil, cso, berlin phil are all top tier). some musicians *coughs at yoyo ma* have less than perfect posture when they're performing solos (for the same reasons famous authors can break "rules")

necessary equipment including reeds, rockstops, different kinds of sticks/mallets, rosin, mouth pieces for whatever instrument you're writing

common misconceptions

loose/photocopied sheet music is not aesthetic—it's annoying and impossible to keep organized. folders and binders are fairly common especially when managing multiple ensembles.

original copies are often expensive and required to perform a piece (legally) for profit or otherwise (though i know a few people who have bent this rule)

not all performers are good composers (i myself have very little formal music theory training), but many composers have performance histories.

not all musicians can sing.

perfect pitch is both a blessing and a curse. notes can be slightly lower/higher but in tune with the context of the piece, which drives people with perfect pitch insane.

having perfect pitch does not guarantee someone will be a prodigy, and people don't need perfect pitch to be a talented musician.

drama in ensembles does exist, but it rarely gets in the way of rehearsal. same thing goes for good friends: if your characters have even a shred of common sense, they aren't going to be talking/messing around during rehearsal.

instruments (especially good ones) are extremely expensive. people very rarely store instruments on the wall or other displays for fear of falling.

instruments are very picky and require tuning every time. every time! it doesn't take long anyway. temperature and humidity can and will make instruments go out of tune or damage your instrument if not properly stored.

some people listen exclusively to classical music, but in my experience, that's definitely not the majority

like with anything, most musicians struggle with self doubt at one point or another.

musician culture

getting excited when we hear a piece we recognize

getting frustrated because we can't remember the name of the piece (after all, no lyrics to search)

being horrified when a non-musician actor is playing a musician. yes, we notice. yes, it's obvious.

if people are joking, it's likely to be about: violas (a quick search for "viola jokes" will tell you all you need to know) or trumpets (a reputation for being overly loud, playing and not)

putting stickers (places they toured, their orchestra, or just purely decorative) on cases is common, but not for everyone. same goes for pictures (of family, past concerts, or anything) on the inside.

scrambling for a pencil when the conductor says to mark something. pencils are a musicians best friend :D

asking (and forgetting) how to split double stops/two parts at the same time. sometimes one stand partner will play the top while the other plays the bottom, and sometimes this is split stand by stand.

this has NEVER resulted in a sexual top/bottom joke. please just. don't. also no g string jokes. it's just unrealistic.

awaiting the obligatory "it's one week before our concert, and you sound like this?!" lecture

not talking about music 100% of the time!!! they have lives outside of music (most of them, at least /j). especially to close friends, music is probably not going to be a conversation topic unless something is out of the ordinary (high stress, something funny from rehearsal, etc.)

bragging/talking about how often they practice is generally not welcomed. great, but other people don't need to hear it!

stages are hot and bright. there's no way a performer can see someone in the audience with the possible exception of the first row.

practicing

three words for you: love. hate. relationship.

slow practice (like really slow lots of people recommend half speed; good for focusing on the right notes, tone, phrasing, smooth transitions)

metronome practice (while playing, it's not annoying at all! it's helpful and requires a lot of focus; when NOT playing, it's annoying and loud because it needs to be heard over the playing)

drone practice (having a machine/website/another person play one note in the background; good for tuning and scales)

and too many more for me to detail

auditions

ensembles may have entrance auditions to determine who gets in and seating auditions to determine placement within the section.

adrenaline does not make us play better; it just makes us make mistakes. and then thinking about those mistakes causes more mistakes.

some instruments, especially those with less repertoire, have common excerpts that come up frequently (i can think of one in particular that i've played for three separate auditions this year).

stopping/starting over is not recommended ever, but if you do, it has to be 10x better. most audition judges aren't looking for perfection!! they want to see how your character can keep going after messing up.

sight reading (being given new music, having ~30 seconds to look at it, being asked to play) is never perfect. i don't care how talented your character is; if they think they nailed it, they aren't experienced enough to see all the phrasing/dynamics that they didn't incorporate. no one gets sight reading perfect!!!

perhaps most importantly, musicians are not all the same! they enjoy it for a number of different reasons and have diverse and interesting lives outside of music!!! more information about specific instrument groups under the cut :)

strings

callouses. with the exception of pianists, most string players (and especially professional ones) have callouses where they press down/pluck the strings. i also have one on my right thumb where i hold my bow. cellists and bassists might have them on their left thumb from playing higher notes in thumb position.

hickeys are also fairly common, though only some people get them. upper strings will get these by under their left jaw. cellists may have one from the wooden body resting on their sternum. some people (including hilary hahn and many many others) use a cloth for comfort and to prevent hickeys.

few people want a hickey, but it might suit a character who is constantly trying to prove themselves.

our fingers do not "glide" anywhere. you can get cuts/"string-burns" from pressing down too hard when shifting. cuts like those are the only reason someone's fingers will bleed, and it's rarer than you think.

upper strings are more prone to back/neck problems from the way they hold their instruments on one side. see also: shoulder pain.

finger cramps happen. they aren't too common, but most if not all strings have experienced at least one.

pianos require tuning every few years or else the chords will be out of tune. few pianists can tune their own instrument because of how complicated it is.

piano parts/accompaniments will have so. many. pages. a page turner may sit on the right of the pianist to turn the page.

woodwinds & brass

spit. so much spit. some instruments clean afterwards with a cloth; others have a spit valve which is as gross as it sounds.

proper embouchure, or how a musician uses the muscles in their face/lips, is tiring, and people actually get strong cheek muscles. they can also easily turn red, but it varies based on a person's facial complexion. see also: good lung capacity.

flute and piccolo are not dainty. piccolo requires as much air as a tuba. an old teacher of mine almost passed out playing piccolo when she was in college.

flutes and piccolos are high, but often not shrill depending on the level of the ensemble.

reeds last a few weeks (less if your character plays for hours a day) and can be expensive to buy.

keys and valves can get sticky especially on older instruments which can result in the wrong note or bad tone.

saxes, clarinets, flutes are more likely to "honk" on low notes.

oboes are more likely to feel "wispy" on high notes.

articulation comes from the tongue, especially for brass instruments, and conductors may ask for "tah" "pah" or "wah" sounds depending on the style of the piece.

percussion

callouses from the friction between hands and sticks/mallets.

there are so many types of sticks and mallets!!! make sure to take a look at what materials are good for what instruments/sounds.

cymbals, triangle, and bass drum are not easy to play, even though they look simple.

percussionists with the exception of timpani may play more than one instrument during a piece, and they're constantly moving around in the back during their rests.

percussion instruments are too expensive for most people to have everything they ever play. practice pads are very common in place of these instruments.

ability to play one instrument doesn't translate to different instruments. for example, many percussionists don't have experience playing set/drum set.

some of the things detailed here are heavily glossed over, so if you have any questions, i'd always be happy to talk about it with you; i may not have answers, but i will try to help as best i can!!!

since you read this far, have my favorite viola joke.

what's the difference between a violist and a large pizza?

a large pizza can feed a family of four :)

tagging some people who showed interest: @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @kg-willie @owilder

#writing advice #writing resources #writing reference #music #wow this absolutely consumed me

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foreverlostindreams · 4 years ago

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Don’t ever dump me again

Friends. That's the reason Kol invited you here, because you were ‘friends’. He seemed to be lacking any more of those, or he would not drag you out every time he wanted to go for a drink, just to be distracted by any pretty neck walking past. And while you were glad that you had moved on from being on the menu, to being an, at least right now, treasured witchy help for the Mikaelson, you could definitely go without another evening spent alone in a bar, he chose for the two of you ‘to have fun’. You didn't have fun. Who would getting basically dumped every other night? It was not the best thing for your ego, so you ordered another drink.

It was just your luck, that sitting alone at a bar like this one seemed to attracted all kinds of other lonely or wishful guests of even that bar to try their best of getting closer to you. The stool next to you was still empty, but when the bartender brought you another drink, shortly after your ordered one, you knew that was going to end very quickly. The sound of dragging wood on wood seconds later proved you right and then you saw the guy appearing in the corner of your left eye.

He was not as dubious and off-putting as the other ones you usually attracted in establishments Kol dragged you to, but you also did not get a good vibe from him right away.

A good half an hour and a few drinks later you had warmed up to him though. No supernatural about him at all, right now a fat plus on your chart and just a lot of charming talk about college and annoying friends, just what you needed. You had started college before getting sucked into all the Mikaelson mess and even though you had not liked it there a single bit, compared to some of the things you did now, hell did you miss it. He seemed to have a slight intention of getting you tipsy, based on how fast he ordered you new drinks, when yours got empty, but you knew how to handle your liquor and based on the fact, that Kol in average would take another half an hour before he would get back to get you, you were just fine with how it was.

That was before the next drink hit you very differently. Your head was spinning instantly and you could feel your balance going off. Roofies, oh for fucks sake. You stumbled off your stool trying to get away from him, but your body was not cooperating very much. When he got up as well, playing the perfect help and no word of protest that you were trying to form would leave your lips, you started to feel a slight panic creeping up. There was no witchy power protecting you from this or reversing it, definitely not while you were in this state. God, you were so stupid. The first thing you learn in College, always watch your cup and don’t take drinks from strangers. Having spent so much time with vampires and angry werewolves, you had forgotten about all those mundane dangers. You could kick yourself.

Your thoughts were racing, when you felt the cold night wind on your face. He was getting you further and further away from the back alley or whatever kind of service room Kol, aka your only chance of help and his play thing were in, to everybody else you seemed like a drunk mess, that a friend was helping. “Km” you mumbled only to try directly again, with more force “Kom'' and again “Kol!”

Thank god you were not out with Elijah, you would have never gotten his name out, even though he probably would have not let it have come to this in the first place. But ones you had managed to get the name right once, you didn't stop, repeating it like a prayer. Hoping to get through the bar and street noise like this. Annoying him like he always would with you. When you heard a car door open next to you, full on panicking now, it mobiliced all the brain capacity you could manage “Kol, help!” you nearly screamed, as your legs finally failed in those heels under you and you fell against the car door, jamming the guys hand in the progress. You could hear him swear and then smell a very familiar smell in the next air breeze.

“I said have fun, Darling, not organize presents. But I’m not complaining.” He definitely did not know, when he could be funny and when not, you determined while trying to get safely to the ground to crawl away from the danger zone your ‘nice’ college dude had maneuvered himself into. You didn’t get to crawl through, you were picked up before that. The suit sleeves covering the arms in your vision did not seem like what Kol was dressed in the last time you saw him, but the voice you had heard was his. Trying to focus was getting more and more difficult you noticed and you felt your eyes getting heavier, before you felt something wet getting pressed to your lips. The first impulse was defence, but without much effect and when the copper taste hit your tongue you gave in. Vampire blood was probably your only chance now.

When the clouds started to lift off your mind and your own legs started to support your body again you let go and looked for the guy. You’d be damned if he would get away with this, but Kol had him good and scared to death, his hand still stuck in the car door. Now that couldn’t be good. On a second thought you turned around wide eyed before you realized it was Elijah who had helped you get the drugs out of your system. Where did he come from? They had promised you, they could not read minds. “I was trying to call you, to do a spell for Klaus, but you didn’t answer, so I was going to pick you up.” he offered you an answer, before you could even ask. An oppressed scream reached your ears distracting you again.

“Don’t kill him!” you scolded Kol, trying to get closer only to realise that vampire blood might have helped, but you were not yet your balanced and stable self. “Oh come on Darling! You can not still feel sorry for him. He was not going to take you on a picnic” he shot back dramatically “I know” I hissed at him and instantly regretted it, when his grin got wider again “Oh, so you want the honor?” “No” okay, maybe a bit and you got the chance earlier than expected because the idiot really did try to make his escape in just that moment. The force with which you smashed him into the ground before he did his second step and one of the other two men made a move was entirely because of the drugs, of course.

Pinning him like this you looked back at Kol “I want you to compel him to go to the next police department, demand to speak to a female officer and confess to her about every woman he ever did this to. And about the place where he gets the drugs, if he knows about any other guy doing it. Absolutely everything” “You are no fun” Kol complained “I am in this situation, because you fucking idiot always want to have fun, drag me along and then dump me at the bar. My liver is probably going to get me in an early grave, all because of you” You went off on him and could feel Elijah's disapproving look shooting over your head at his little brother. “Are you saying, you never had fun with me?” He really seemed insulted, what did he expect? “Like I say, you always disappear and the bars you choose are not known for it’s amazing clientele, but it’s the only escape I get from the third brother in your family, that would like to see me work on something for him every waking minute of the day, so i tag along.”

“Ready to go home?” Elijah asked then and offered you his arm, like the perfect gentleman he was “Kol, you got this?” he asked in a totally different kind of voice, while leading me to the passenger seat of his car. How had you not noticed he seemingly hit the brakes and parked directly behind you and the idiots car? “We are not done talking about this Darling!” “Oh, I so am. I will not discuss anything with any of you anymore today. I will not do any spells. I will just go to bed and sleep for a day or two. Maybe wake up in a life, where mine is not so out of control” A girl could dream.

Of course, you were back at breakfast the next morning already reading the grimoire Klaus had gotten in ways you didn’t want to know anything about. He had not complained to you about the time he had lost last night, but you were sure he spent the whole time you were asleep doing it to Elijah, who had put his food down about your need to sleep, also citing that trying a difficult spell with a halfway drugged witch was not their best chance. You were also sure Kol had heard his bit about letting it get to that.

Just when thinking of the devil, he slipped into the stool to your left, looking disapproving on your cornflakes. “That was how my last evening turned from bad to catastrophic” you commented on his move without looking up from the page. “You really did not enjoy a single evening?” Was his pride honestly hurt about that aspect? “Nop” “I thought you were! I thought, that was what you wanted, a way out of this house and not see a single vampire for ones, that's what you had said'' In that moment the penny dropped in your mind. You had said that! A little over a month ago, the day after Kol had arrived back here, when Klaus had had one of his days and Elijah was not on your side the way you had wanted him to, you had stormed off slamming doors and screaming your frustration out with those words. The day after, Kol had asked you to a bar for the first time.

You looked at him, checking for signs that he might prank you, but he looked genuine. You took a deep breath “Okay, let's start again. Hi, my name is Y/N. Your family drives me insane, sometimes I need a timeout from that, but I still do not like to be dumped in shitty bars, when asked out.” Kol took your offered hand “Well then, Miss Y/N. I will remember that. Would you like to accompany me to a better bar tomorrow evening, to redeem myself as good company?” “That sound not bad at all” He grinned back at you and then got up. “By the way darling, I would not eat that, it smells bad.” “Shut up Kol, better be worried, if you ever dump me again!” You could hear his laugh, even when he left the room.

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #witch reader #the vampire diaries #the originals #the originals imagine

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captainshakespear · 4 years ago

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This is me sending you an ask pleading you to share the saga of yusuf's ye olde college boyfriend(s) with the world please and thank you <3

if I had any capacity for creative writing right now I would attempt to make this into a fic but I do not, so I humbly offer Bullet Point Headcanons to expand upon what I wrote in a daze of tags here:

Yusuf’s first (and maybe only) actually-kinda-relationship before Nicky occurred when he left home to go live with a family friend in Tripoli, or maybe Alexandria, to pursue studies

prior to this his options for lovers were pretty limited - he only really knew one other man who liked men in his hometown, and they hated each other

he attends classes and lectures in the afternoon and finds work helping an old man run his market stall in the mornings - Yusuf helps balance the books, carry heavy things, and is great at charming customers

Rami is one such customer

this is a year or two into Yusuf’s time here - he knows where Men Like Him gather and has probably been with a few people, and being Yusuf, he was probably always briefly in love with any of those men who were nice to him

but with Rami there is a certain level of Romancing involved that he didn’t even know was an option, but instantly cannot get enough of

Rami attended classes here a few years ago, and now often takes work guarding caravans through the desert, so not only is he handsome and friendly, he also likes to discuss maths and philosophy, and has all these stories from his travels

Yusuf is completely in love with him long before they ever kiss

Rami buys something from their stall that first day, and then returns a few days later, and eventually begins passing by in the afternoons as well to offer a hand with tidying up when Yusuf has returned from the madrasa

this often results in the owner offering them both a glass of mint tea which they will sip on as they pass the evenings walking around and talking

or, increasingly, doing things that don’t involve as much talking

(a large part of the reason why Yusuf asked his parents if he could go away to study was because he didn’t want to get married, and now he is both pursuing studies AND has a lover, things are going great in his eyes)

unfortunately, being here for school means that there ARE expectations on him - he can’t just join Rami taking work with caravans and travel wherever it strikes him, as much as he fantasizes about it

the first time Rami leaves for three months on a job, Yusuf pretends he can be normal and mature about it, and then proceeds to mope for most of those three months. at least when Rami returns they both immediately fall into each other’s arms, so it’s not like it’s not reciprocated

but Rami keeps leaving, and b/c of long blocks of time apart, they both never quite manage to fully open up to one another

Yusuf is certain there IS someone out there he would move heaven and earth to be with, but as much as he loves Rami, he’s starting to think he might not be that person

in any case, eventually Yusuf finishes his studies, returns home, and joins his father’s merchant business, and gets to do all the traveling he dreamed of, even if it’s with family and business partners rather than someone who makes his heart skip a beat when they lock eyes. he and Rami exchange the occasional letter. it’s nice enough.

he has other lovers over the next decade - the occasional hook-up; a couple acquaintances he visits each time he passes through a particular port and tries (and fails) not to develop feelings for; a new business partner once where the sparks between them burn hot but fast, culminating in a “break up” so disastrous that when Nicolò hears about it years later he considers hunting this man down and introducing him to the business-end of his crossbow

(Yusuf also does, when passing through his hometown, sometimes fuck that guy he absolutely hated when he was a teenager. he still hates him. but he is also insanely hot. Yusuf is but a mortal man. what can you do. Yusuf’s older brother connects the dots on this one time and judges him severely because really, if he had to be exclusively into men couldn’t he at least have better taste?)

and so it goes - Yusuf loves his life, his family, loves knowing his work is helping take care of them, loves that he gets to hold them and share meals with them every time he comes home.

he's avoided marriage so far but he assumes soon his parents will persuade him to take a wife, and that could be nice in its own way, having a steady partner and friend long-term, even if he still wouldn't be able to share every part of himself with her

but privately he still lets himself fantasize about Someone, a man who he could work with, travel with, share all his thoughts and desires with, discuss maths and philosophy with, sleep beside, have adventures with. be close to in a way he still isn't sure he's been with anyone. no harm in having a fantasy.

especially one that's never gonna happen

#polarcell #this got a bit long so I banish u under a read more #Yusuf al Kaysani #The Old Guard #the captain's log #the bit where Yusuf fucks that guy he hates bc he's so hot is simpley A Surprise Tool That Will Be Useful Later #I'm laying the groundwork for Yusuf having the capacity to be sexually attracted to someone he wants to kill #it's called worldbuilding. you're welcome Nicolò.#answered #for someone whose brain is 100% JoeNicky it's funny how often I think about their exes #I just hope they had some people be nice to them and had nice experiences once in a while #before their entire lives got flipped upside down and they each found the person they didn't even know they were looking fkr #anyway [pretends i didn't have severe anxiety about posting this and thus hit publish in the middle of the night] enjoy #i sleep now

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softer-ua · 4 years ago

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It’s that time of night again where I post thoughts that keep me. Let me preface this one by saying adore this show, Hori is doing an excellent job, and this opinion doesn’t mean I think this story is less deep in anyway. That being said…

Am I the only one that thinks Bnha would make more sense at college age? Like every plot point the same but aged forward 4 years

Colleges already have dorms, move in day could have been like episode two, speed everything along with a good get to know right off the bat

Getting a quirk at 8 is way better than getting one at 4, the child mortality rate in this world has to be insane

Kids don’t even have a capacity for explicit memories until they’re 2, and they’re not good at it until they’re 7. That being said BkDk’s quirk development plus fall out hits a lot harder and just generally makes more sense with my new time line.

I have mentioned before that I think their friendship fall out was built over time and that they were friends/ish until middle school, because hanging out with someone sometimes in kindergarten is an insane way to label someone as a childhood friend. On that note a fallout in HS after 8 years of solid friendship then 8ish more of rocky friendship just had more meaningfulness to me.

For anyone wondering about the bullying. I don’t think it’d be worse or change just because of the age. I’m besties with my old HS bully, who’s main form of torment was triggering my insane startle reflex because of ptsd (I don’t just flinch, I jump out of my skin and scream like a horror film star) he’d do this up to 3 times a day amongst other shit. He is now one of my best friends in the world and has been for 6 years(graduated in may made friends in October). So I don’t think the age would make anything more serious/unforgivable/harder to get over. It’s the same.

We would very conveniently get ride of the CHILD SOLDIERS plot line

We wanna curb Deku self sacrificing tendencies but 16 year old don’t have a great capacity for understanding their own mortality or impulse control

Building of the previous point, a not 14 year old impulsively trying to throw hands with living sludge says a lot more about them cause emotional impulsive decisions are just what 14 year olds kinda do, not to Dekus extent for sure but still(I would argue that this makes what Bakugo does slightly more meaningful, but that’s not the point)

Just kidding it is entirely the point, experience plus maturity does give some actions more depth, sacrifices being one of them because the amygdala vs prefrontal cortex is better developed allowing the brain to weigh in long term reasoning better and faster which makes impulse decisions more reflective of character

There’s probably more points rattling around somewhere but I exhausted my wonder duo brain cells so I’m gonna cut myself off here

#bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero #bakudeku #bkdk #deku #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #dekubaku #midoriya izuku #bnha meta #bnha headcanons #mha meta #mha hcs #I hope this still makes sense tomorrow

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just-thought-thoughts · 3 years ago

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The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

hello tumblr user @supposedly-gay

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.

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himooonlight · 4 years ago

Text

who are you? pt. 5 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader

word count: 3.3k

plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him

warnings: death. lot of angst.

A/N: happy new year, everybody! I watched the show for the 5th time and I noticed some dahlias at Emily’s house so…… yeah, my imagination was running wild for this. Hopefully I gave you guys some answers with this chapter. Hopefully; who knows?

here's chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3 and chapter 4.

1922

The stage was huge and the curtains were embroidered with CC's. Caleb Covington. The magician everyone was talking about. He wasn't just the talk of the town, no; he was all over the newspaper in different states.

In the theater the decorations were either black or gold and the tall man standing in the center was wearing a velvet suit and sparkly shoes. His whole persona and aura were screaming for attention and validation, insinuating how narcissistic and egocentric he was. Because of that, no one could look directly at him without feeling uncomfortable and scared - that's why working for him was like hell on earth; not only because he would make insane demands like finding an enormous glass box in the middle of the night, but also because he wasn't very nice.

His four personal assistants were holding heavy chains, not very sure if that was a good idea. Everybody was tired, irritated and a little terrified, even though they would never say that out loud.

That their boss was mad. And he for sure was.

- This is bigger than us, I can feel it. People will talk about me for centuries!

Nobody dared to say a thing. They just kept doing what they were supposed to, wondering if this trick wouldn't be too much, questioning where the firefighters were. Even in rehearsals, everything had to be as safe as possible. Caleb, however, was eager to try out this escape idea, saying that the rest of the time was already on their way and that they could go ahead and start.

One of the assistants was pouring alcohol inside the box, while the other three were getting the chains tight around the magician's body. When five locks were put in place, the only thing missing was the blindfold and the fire.

- And now, let's burn. - Covington said. Against his better judgment, the assistent lit up the platform around the box, watching the dancing flames reflect on the glass. Going back to the audience, the four assistants sat there in silence, scared for their own life.

Caleb didn't wait. He got inside the box with the blindfold and no way to break the chains or open the locks. The box could only open from outside and nobody could get near it because of the fire. And the alcohol inside sure was a deadly combination too, of course. But Caleb Covington was always right, always sure about his odds.

Until he wasn't.

When the rest of the crew got to the theatre, Caleb was already inside the box, struggling to get out. He still had one minute to go and the firefighters were ready to help him out.

Covington didn't think it through; the alcohol wasn't cold and it was more flammable than he thought, so when the glass box exploded, not even the firefighters could save his life. He didn't make it to the hospital and the police couldn't really blame anyone, especially not the assistants for doing their jobs.

Caleb Covington died a horrible death, performing one of his magic tricks.

And while he was burning, he blamed others for not getting it right. He was too perfect to be mistaken, so he died thinking he would find a way to be bigger, better and eternal.

Caleb Covington died wanting revenge, eternity and power.

Still, he died.

1974

The year of 1974 was a roller coaster for Lily Peters. Her baby boy was born and the world was somehow brighter because of him. Somehow darker too.

His cute little nose brought joy to her heart and his tiny hand would hold her finger like if he were to ever let go, everything would fall apart.

The roller coaster started going down when he, in fact, did.

- Listen to me, Lily. - The man said. His tone was low and his eyes were pleading for understanding and compassion. He wanted a family, of course, but everything was so complicated. He just couldn't turn around without trying one more time. - We can move to a different city if you want. We deserve a happy life, don't you think? Together.

Lily was young. Reckless wasn't really a word to describe her; instead she was smart, passionate, dedicated and bright. Incredibly bright. So when she got home eight months prior with red eyes and shaking hands, her parents didn't comprehend the syllables she was mumbling. Sounded like the world was ending or someone died.

When "I am pregnant" left her lips, they were surprised. Both of them couldn't think of a single thing to say. Out of shock, they held her, petting her long hair and crying silently with their daughter. The tears weren't a result of a heavy heart or disappointment; the tears were based on joy, love and gratitude.

For both of them, at least. To her, not so much.

The baby boy's dad was an amazing man. He was a journalist known for being honest yet gentle. His articles and photos were always delicate and strong. He was always smiling, always being nice to strangers, always believing in something, in someone. He was also a dreamer; a very realistic one, for that matter. He would dream with his head up in the sky and feet on the ground.

It was hard for him wrapping his head around what Lily was saying. Maybe it was because he was older than her, but he just couldn't see things from her point of view.

- I've made up my mind. - Lily said. She kept going down and down, afraid she wasn't going to see the light again. Her decision was a blind intent to make the roller coaster to up again. - I can't keep him.

Her parents were strongly against the idea of giving the baby away. None of Lily's friends knew about the pregnancy, so there was nobody else to beg her to see things clearly. She could stay in college and still be a mom; she could have a beautiful life with her beautiful son and be happy. There was no reason to fear what other people would say; her son's presence could cure her heavy heart of any nasty remark or malicious look.

Lily was young and she made a bad choice; one that she would regret forever. But no one could blame her for not knowing better until she knew better.

- Well, I can. - The man replied. He was crying, holding his son carefully and wondering how could anyone give up on him. - I am going to keep him and be a great father to our son. He's going to be an amazing person and I'm sorry that you won't be there to see it.

It wasn't an easy decision. 1974 was the year of California Jam, when people could be audacious and careless in a crowd, but scared and small inside of their own houses. Lily was feeling overwhelmed by the responsibilities of parenthood, of her own being and all the life she would have to forget. She wasn't ready, but her son couldn't wait.

- Lily, darling, are you sure? - Her parents were merely observers. They wanted their grandson around, they wanted to see him growing up, going to school and smiling. They wanted everything they could get, but it was Lily's choice and being a parent didn't give them the right to make choices for their daughter. - Is this the right decision?

The words couldn't come out, so she just nodded. The sad journalist nodded too, understanding that he was now on his own. Well, at least he wasn't alone and his soul was satisfied with his decision: he could never say that he abandoned his own child. That's something he would never forgive himself for.

The baby didn't wake up with the comotion and Lily thanked the heavens for it. If she saw his pretty green eyes she would've turned around and begged them to stay.

Ray instinctively smiled at his mom for the first and last time, still in his sleep. Lily cried when both of them left the house, wondering if she was right.

- We're going to be fine, Ray Molina. - The man whispered to his son, kissing his forehead. - You are the love of my life.

1993

- Hi. Do you have a name or can I call you mine? - Reggie's friends started laughing, embarrassed by his lack of filter. They didn't understand that their friend's words were natural, almost like an instint. Reggie didn't feel that intense connection with anyone there at the book club; let alone with someone he never met before. - Maybe I went too far with that one. I think I have the right to remain silent.

There he was again, using humor to hide things.

Reginald Peters was a scaredy cat with a very believable mask: funny remarks and the I-am-stupid façade. His personality was joyful and light, used to hide all the years his mom mistreated him and his dad ignored his existence. Reggie knew he was born to save their marriage, but it was doomed a long time ago, with no saving at all. The boy grew up with no sense of hope for romantic love and no understanding of self preservation.

And none of that was his fault; his longing for parental support or the lack of ambition in his educational life. Reggie had no one to appreciate him, to build him up, to be there for him unconditionally. That is until Luke and Alex showed up.

And then Ethan.

- Reggie, you have the right to remain silent. What you lack is capacity. - Alex said, making Luke laugh even louder.

People started asking them to keep it quiet, to what both of them complied easily - they loved the snacks there. The boys went back inside to grab something to eat while Reggie and Ethan stood there in the backyard, looking at each other, trying to understand their feelings.

It wasn't something measurable or understandable. No one could explain the feeling of coming back home that they felt when their eyes met.

They were both speechless.

Reggie and Ethan were admiring each other's details. The bridge of their nose, their eyebrows, the way their hair would flow with the wind, their freckles; everything that met the eye. Still, they couldn't pinpoint what it was.

- Hey. - Ethan replied, holding out his hand. Reggie looked into Ethan's eyes, then his lips and only then took his hand in his. Time seemed to stop around them. - I guess you do have a name, Reggie, but can I call you mine?

Ethan liked metaphors, so if he were asked to describe that moment, he would've said that it felt like lying down in his bed after a long summer away from home. It was comfortable, safe, heartwarming, relaxing. Great. And Reggie would've nodded his head, agreeing with the comparison.

Coming back to each other after lifetimes away was refreshing. Living away from each other was cruel and all the hardships were long forgotten with a simple touch.

Hand in hand, Ethan smiled at Reggie, wondering how long it's been.

It was just one lifetime, but it felt like forever.

1994

- This. You and I. - Ethan said, turning to face Reggie, who looked perplexed. Ethan falted, thinking he read the whole picture wrong. - My parents would kill me.

Reginald opened his mouth a few times, as if trying to justify himself.

- Ethan, what are you talking about? - Reggie asked with a scoff. The façade was up again, blending in with the boy's features just well. - We're only friends. I like girls. I flirt a lot, sure, but it's all a joke.

A joke.

The worst part about the "we're only friends" card is the "only" part. It was like their friendship was insignificant or insufficient; seemed like the "just friends" made each other smaller. They had the potential to be more, to take up more space in each other's life, to hold a more special value in his heart, but "just friends" limited Ethan from achieving what he really wanted.

"Just friends" sounded like "I'm by your side, but I'm not relevant enough'’ to Ethan.

- I'm sorry. I have to go. - A heartbroken Ethan said.

Ethan shouldn't be sorry - that was the first thing Reggie thought after he left. Ethan should be there, with him, holding his hand and maybe hearing a new song they were working on. Yet Reginald couldn't move, almost like his feet were glued to the ground. Above the loud music, he could hear the clock on the wall, ticking mercilessly telling him he missed his chance to let his stars, his path collide with Ethan's. Above the loud music, he felt stuck in time, not getting older, further away from paradise.

"Now or never" quickly turned into "maybe next life" to him.

1995

Death was about the living.

Death was about who stayed on Earth, wondering about the words they didn't speak and about the food they didn't taste in the company of the deceased. Death was a silence that people shared because they were told so and because they had no special powers to change it.

Death was a cry of mourning from the living, a closed coffin, the ashes thrown from a beautiful hill that the deceased could never see or that they loved very much; a dream or a memory. Death was a watch that forgot to keep running, a battery that no longer fed anything, a pause.

Death was about who wasn't dead.

Death was about many people who would feel affected by absence. Family, friends, strangers who would question their own existence because of someone's obituary.

Death was, indeed, about the living.

In that case, about Rose, Bobby and the boys' families.

About how Luke's parents almost didn't attend the funeral. Their broken heart was physically hurting them and leaving the house was hard. They kept waiting for their son's return, choosing to ignore the fact that was dead. Emily and Mitch Patterson stayed by the door, imagining their son's figure coming back home. That never happened.

About how Lisa and Jarred Mercer, Alex's mom and dad, didn't cry. They stared at their son's picture in silence. People came and went, saying they would pray for comfort, but it was just empty. Everything was empty; the words, their bodies, their soul. Losing a son shouldn't happen. It was in the unsaid manual of life: parents should go first. Burying a child was an ache no body should ever feel. The literal body really, considering how physical the pain could be. Alex's parents, for instance, couldn't eat for days. They couldn't sleep or smile. Breathing was painful, remembering was even worse.

About how Reginald's father was drunk while the priest prayed. He stayed away from everybody, just tripping on his own feet and murmuring "I'm sorry". He wasn't talking about Reggie - he was thinking about Lily, his wife, and how she didn't care about their son. He was apologizing for losing all their money, for gambling, for not being a good husband. He cried too, but his father's angry voice screaming "don't cry, you're a man" echoed in his mind soon enough. He left before anybody could see him.

About how Rose visited Emily and Mitch many times, always taking Dahlias, her favorite flower, to them. She would just make sure they ate, talk a little bit about life and play chess with Mitch. She won a few times. Alex's parents were too stubborn to accept her consolation in the form of company, but she didn't give up. After a few cookies and a few letters making sure they were alright, she got invited for dinner. She took Bobby with her and they talked about Alex like they had known each other for the longest time. His parents had many regrets and it pained Rose to see it, so she reassured them, from a daughter's perspective, that Alex loved them with all his heart. When she went to college, they lost contact, but the great memories lingered and that helped both families. That's how Rose found her love for social work and the house she wanted to live in the future: someday she wanted to buy Alex's house.

Death was about how Bobby tried helping Reggie's parents. He looked for them everywhere, but they moved out of town. Bobby even went to Lily's work - nobody knew about her. All his strength was dedicated to honor his friends and their music, so when he didn't find Reginald's parents, he decided to be famous and let them come to him. He worked day and night, finishing the songs, working multiple shifts to get money for a demo and doing his best to be more social. He needed connections, luck and money to make his plan of honoring his friends work. All he had was determination and he hoped that could be a start.

Death was about all that and many lives affected by the loss of Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer and Luke Patterson.

2002

The baby cried with such intensity and still his parents were never more delighted by any sound they've ever heard.

- Welcome to the world, Richie.

2018

The clouds were matching Lucas' humor: grumpy, dark and bothered.

He wanted to go back to the cafe, to explain his situation to Jarred and Lisa, but his guitar was stolen and his face was still bruised from his last fight. He couldn't just show up and act like everything was alright like he would usually do.

Living in the streets was easier than staying in the system. The houses he had been to, the families that treated him like a piece of salvation just like the catholic church and indulgences… he was done with that. At least he was trying to make sure he could live freely; as free as a homeless teenager could be.

He was in a park somewhere when the rain started pouring. At first it was shy. In a matter of seconds, the sky was falling down and Lucas was laughing at his luck. No guitar, no family, no food, no place to go. Lonely, cold and irritated, he started singing as loud as he could. No one was nearby and the world was his.

There was so much anger in his throat that it pained the boy a little. He was mad, sad and even confused to why he couldn't just fit in. Find a family, have a house, go to school and have friends. The closest thing he had was Richie - the cheerful boy made him feel at ease for the first time in years. They connected instantly, playing together at Alex's Foundation for musicians/people that liked music.

He wouldn't call everybody there musicians; some people were terrible singers.

Lucas missed Richie so much. Even though the boy didn't know about his housing situation, he'd always be selfless and give him food. There was one time Richie even gave Lucas his jacket, because, according to Richie, Lucas looked cold. The boy was the brother Lucas wanted, the person worth smiling at, the best friend.

After a while, the sky stopped crying and Lucas went to his usual spot, close to a 24 hour diner. Sometimes the waiter would be nice enough to give him bread or fries. He never expected anything though; he would just sit and wait. Wait for life, for salvation, for hope, for someone.

That night Lucas found Richie, Rose and death.

After the rain, life would never be the same.

#reggie x y/n #reggie x reader #Reggie fanfic #reggie #julie and the phantoms fanfic #julie and the phantoms #reggie jatp #jatp fanfic #jatp #reader fanfic #reader

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butterfly-winx · 4 years ago

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I'm not sure if you've already answered this but could u talk about everyone's first experiences with magic?

No I haven’t and I can’t claim I have thought about it long enough to have rock hard hc, but it’s a fun prompt anon, so here we go:

Bloom:

Aside from being protected from the flames of the house burning around her as a baby, Bloom’s first conscious brush with magic was actually using her innate aspect. She has always been a sensitive kid and everybody assumed it was just some form of hyperempathy when she talked about other people’s feelings with high accuracy. But when she categorised people into colours depending on their auras, she meant it. Then as sensitive weird kids be, Bloom was picked on a lot in late primary and middle school and that’s when her temper started to show. Bloom got angry easily and it only riled up the other children more to get her to show a reaction. Before that it was mostly tears, but one memorable occasion Bloom’s control over temperature manifested with her burst of anger and she made everyone and herself develop a sudden high fever. She fainted from it unfortunately and spent the next two years transfixed by all sources of fire and flames eventually circling back on her obsession with fairies and all things magic. The older she got the less she paid attention to the colourful auras until they completely faded from her everyday sight and only cropped up when she herself felt her emotion in a disarray. As Bloom got older, other magic effects started to crop up with higher frequency, like her “magically” avoiding injuries or recovering from them super fast, or never getting burned on hot pots as the Dragonflame started to feel cramped unused in her body. When Stella was being threatened by the goblins and the ogre, Bloom’s fight or flight instincts automatically allowed the Dragonflame an outlet. (She then of course followed Stella down a rabbit hole of an adventure and got a place in Alfea due to her new friend’s quick thinking and forgery)

Stella:

With two proficient magic users as parents Stella was practically hounded over as adults in her life anxiously waited for her to show signs of magic. She went through magic prep courses trying her hardest to please everyone who was so important to her. She wanted to be magic so bad, always afraid of that infinitesimal chance that she didn’t get all the right genes from her parents. At age seven she was kind of a late bloomer for fully magic children to yet show any sign of magic sensitivity, and she spent another short holiday with her mother’s family up north. it was Stella’s favourite pastime to wander as close to the edge of the estate as she dared to alone in the constant twilight of the Solarian pole. Her favourite spot was a little cropping of shrubs populated by lighting bugs that always flocked to her when she came by. The loved collecting the shiny rocks as well that lit up at her touch and create her own little sun filled garden in the back where no one would bother her for hours. In retrospect Stella can tell exactly why she hasn’t come forward with all of these light related oddities, wanting to keep her island of peace to herself, but back then baby Stella really just didn’t clock that this could be related to her magic aspect. Her grandma eventually noticed and eased her into the thought that yes, she was definitely magic. After that the expectations were laid on even thicker instead of getting easier to bear as Stella got instructions at school and from both of her parents after school. Luna was very helpful with first developing Stella’s magic, so Stella actually started off with a stronger focus on her moon based powers. Radius with his control over bright skies was not very useful and Stella soon started feeling guilty over that and took up sun focused spells and fey magic explicitly to please her father. Radius would have loved her no matter what, but Stella’s insecurities were early risers and she felt the need to please others, so she was more than happy to follow his footsteps and enrol off planet in Alfea, his alma mater.

Musa:

She was equally under observation, only because she is mixed (human-elven) and it was unclear which type her magic would manifest as. Maylin herself a magic using elf would have loved to teach her daughter all she knew, but there was of course always room for her to chose a human stream, should she take after her human father more. That Musa was magic sensitive was a well known fact ever since she was a baby and was able to produce... quite a cry. Maylin was lovingly warned that her daughter was likely to be a musical type along with a gift of full sound-blocking earbuds. At age six Musa could remember the melodies of over 300 pieces of music of ranging complexity, regularly got birds to sing for her and had impeccable hearing - all in all she showed signs of having a promising future as a magic user. For her to be gifted with skills in music that brought Maylin and HaoBai together was a blessing from the Heavens. Then Maylin died and Musa and her father’s world shattered with her. Grief can have complicated effects on one’s magic, and Musa age 9, appeared with dried up magic meridians like she was a l 90 year old. It took a lot of family counselling and well timed teenage rebellion for her to pick up music and with that magic again. And it was hard work, let her tell you that. Both letting magic inot her and developing a feeling for it and doing it all while hiding from her father, afraid he’d want to ban her music and snap instruments again (it happened once, and HaoBai isn’t proud of how much the pain of loss had consimed him at that moment). At fifteen she finally had enough and decided to go head first for it, insisting her half-orphan “recompensation fund” to be used as tuition at Alfea College for fairies, despite never having received any magic prep education. Through brute force, luck and insane talent Musa aced all entrance examinations and made it despite it all.

Techna:

As childbirth on Zenith is, it was completely up in the air whether Techna would be magic or not. All the early childhood signs Techna showed for their aspect were at first more or less mis-categorised as autism (which they absolutely have, but them going through technical books detailing the technological systems of ancient civilisations daily wasn’t just that). The first one suspecting they have magic was actually Techna’s elder sister, Electra. Electra five years older than Techna was very into the idea of a baby sister and loved smushing and cuddling Techna, which Techan absolutely hated and kept giving Electra static shocks out of nowhere. Once Electra understood where static came from and identified that there was absolutely nothing charged around Techna when they did that, she became suspicions. The whole family found out when during dinner, Techna announced in the calmest voice possible that they have heard the car talk and it told Techna exactly what was wrong with it setting an end to their parents tense discussion about the car having issues. The car was sent for repairs, confirming what Techna had said and Techna was taken for a magic sensitivity test having that confirmed. (Baby Techna like: oh yeah I could always hear machines they just usually don’t have anything worthwhile to say). She wasn’t quite five at this point. Magic isn’t as widely practiced on Zenith and it took Techna’s ranerts a while to find a magic prep school for them to attend after school, which ended up being outside the borders of Transjordan actually. The daily drive was very long and exhausting both for teen Techna and the parent of the day who had to drive them, so they started talking about sending Techna to a boarding school once they were old enough. Techha was left to do their own research and they realised they had quite many options, even with just narrowing it down to fey magic that were closer to home than Magics, but they all advertised themselves as “girls’ colleges” and even pre-gender realisation that just irked Techan for an inexplicable reason. They much preferred going to a coed school, so Alfea ended up as their first choice on the application form.

Layla:

In Layla’s case, detecting her magic sensitivity was incredibly difficult, seeing as she grew up practically constantly submerged in water playing with her cousins by the shore. Androsi people naturally have a large lung capacity and are able to dive long. That Layla dried super fast afterwards and never got salt rashes was also brushed under the rug ascribed to good royal hygiene and skin care. When she started being schooled in the castle Layla was colossally bored. She received basic magic training just because, no one actually expected her to be magic since they believed she didn’t show any sensitivity for it, and kind of for shits and giggles Layla took it and ran with it. Layla discovered privately in tidal caves just what a mistake that was able to make the water be kind to her and mold and move just so she could always get out unharmed. She surprised everyone at age eleven when during a banquet the visiting princeling was annoying her just so much, she used her water magic to turn his strictly pomaded hair into a bird’s nest, overshooting and drenching the next three dignitaries around him as well. The party stopped. At first Layla though she was going to get into so much trouble, caught under the strict eyes of her father, but as it turns out, he was overjoyed. Layla was put on a fast track for learning magic and surprised people once again choosing fey magic and being able to transform at the tender age of 13. She was never sent to Alfea, but received the offer from Faragonda after the Darkar incident thinking Layla could easily make it to Enchantix (which she did, this girl is talented).

Flora:

Both of Flora’s parents are untrained magic users, so her being somewhat sensitive at least was also expected. Flora loved sitting to the side watching her father run the potion shop when she wasn’t chasing all her other parental figures and watching what they were doing with curious eyes. She loved it when her aunti Nimali gave her bumps and scrapes a little kiss so she started doing that to all sorts of things including her father’s ingredient plants. He was indulging her harmless kid fantasy, knowing full well that most of his magic plants responded to emotions like they had a soul and was more than surprised when he found these plants not only healed but sprouting wildly whenever Flora gave them a small “get well smooch”. The village talked it all over and Flora was given over to the local magic users to train with and shadow what they were doing. Her interest in potion making however prevailed and by the time she emerged from Nature’s Teaching Path having singlehandedly ran the little children’s colony it was very clear that Flora would need to receive proper training from a proper institution. She was just too good at magic for her family to fail her not being able to offer her more knowledge. Flora wanted magic with frankly for her startling greed and ambition, but she hated the idea of moving away. She could have just gone to Woodland College like most other magic users, but even there the entrance exam examiner was suggesting the school was too small for her. (And Flora kind of felt that - she overthought the whole exam because it was just so simple, she just had to touch the plant, and will the box to float. Her aspect of plant growth might not have given her complete control over the environment, but she was still a lot better than her peers.) The teacher spoke to the Council about the potential of sending Flora off planet and now that had her attention and full investment in doing everything the Council demanded to get her a visa to study in Magics.

Out of the six Layla and Techna were able to transform already before they came to Alfea, Flora and Stella had unstable first attempts (Stella during her own first year that is, not her re-run), while Bloom and Musa were the only ones who fully had to learn it from scratch during their first year.

Stella and Layla pay their tuition from royal funds, Flora is Lynphean Council sponsored and Bloom after the first year paid from Callisto’s royal fund (oops) is on a Magics scholarship for minority cultures as a surviving Dominian. Techna benefits from Transjordan’s education scheme which gives students a basic income, their parents supplement the small remainder, while Musa is 100% self sponsored from aforementioned widower’s trust fund they got after Maylin’s passing.

#winx club #asks #worldbuilding #magic lore #I went a little bit beyond and talked about how they ended up at Alfea as well #Anonymous

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jadienjaystoriesandart · 4 years ago

Text

Sander Sides AU - DanganRonpa

Gosh, I make alot of dark AU’s, I do have fluffy ones, but I find people like my darker ones. This one actually wasn’t my complete own, the girl that came up with most of it has been my RP buddy for a while. IDK if she has a tumbler, but on Wattpad she is known as Littlewolf65.

Anywho, this was a RP idea she had, and we hardly use it, so I’m posting about it because DANG, was it good. (If this gets taken down it’s cause she wanted it to be.)

But given neither of us really want to put in time and effort to writing up a whole story, both due to college and other projects we have going on, I’m posting it to the fandom. (Plus I had ALOT of other Au’s to write about if you guys ever want oneshots. Just leave a message or shoot me a ask for what kind of oneshot you want to see. :D )

Summary: Dystopian Future based situation. The world had pretty much fallen to despair and the ‘Tragedy’ has begun. Ring Leader of it is Thomas Sanders, the Ultimate Despair. Along with his six Sector Leaders, Thomas started pretty much the biggest class war seen in history. Cunning, smart, manipulative, and seen as the ‘leader’ to many, Thomas is not a man to take lightly.

Thomas Sanders: The main guy himself, in this one, unlike my other AU’s, he’s much more... hmm, not really ‘evil’ as he is manipulative. His ‘FamILY’ consist of six guys he all ‘save’ from their situations. Really he’s the Ultimate Despair due to the fact being a youtuber reached a point for him where he never felt much happiness in his life. Due to how hard life was already, not just for him, but others. But rather than fade out like most do in their despair, he took it and made something of it. Demolishing the class system and starting what is known as the Tragedy. Really, he humbles himself, he just whispered to the right people, recruited the right group, and the Tragedy just started itself. Oh, he does somewhat care of his sector leaders, even if it’s in a very twisted, emotionally manipulative way.

Logan Sanders: Background - Thomas’s first Sector leader, the Logic Sector, and the second largest compared the the Snake Sector. Since he was born, Logan Adam’s had alot put upon him by his higher class family. Expected to be the ‘Most Likely To Succeed’ student. Private school, tutors, nothing but the best for him. This family prioritized learning and academics over anything else, if their boy was not a prodigy, they’d make him one. One can guess as a result, this left Logan having to grow up much faster, never really had a childhood. Where he was forced to put his academics above all else, this left him unable to empathize or socialize properly. Feelings just get in the way of progress. He went into private school when he was a teenager, and culture shock was a thing. He shied away from people. Disliked them alot, and didn’t want his parents to punish him should ‘friends’ become a distraction. With no real empathy and emotions to call his own, Thomas found it real easy to fill that void with despair. Convincing our Logan to kill his family and free himself, Logan joined Thomas after that. Thomas treats Logan well, like he’s an actual person and talking to him as such. Something his family and others never did. His parents acted like he was a robot, and it became a common taunt used against him when bullied. “He’s a robot guys, not like he can feel the hurt in our words.” Oh the highschool drama, not knowing what real hurt is. Logan did enjoy torturing them, their despair felt great. Logan is a hard core believer in what Thomas says, that despair is the only real, tangible thing in this world to rely on. He’s a good example of this. Sector - The Logic Sector harbors from the best minds the Despair has. It takes up majority of the west part of the city, and is one of two ways to the main area where Thomas and them live. It’s meant to be like a maze, riddles, traps, not really designed to kill a person, it’s meant to test your mental capacity. Logan love logic puzzles, hence the name of the sector. Mostly it’s adults that live in this sector and help with making traps and weapons for the Despair. They are deadly, precise, and Logan is a very strict leader to his people. But with good reason, after all, if he left them to themselves, they might become like Patton or Virgil’s sector. There are many buildings here meant just for the torture and turning of ‘new members’. It’s neighbors are the Heart Sector to the right, and across from the main area and Snake Sector.

Patton Sanders: Background - The second man after Logan that Thomas recruited, the Heart Sector is his area. Patton lived in orphanage for a long time, always taking care of. Forced to take on a parental role to the younger kids very early, as he was the eldest. The owners were very uncaring, mostly in it for a check to spend on alcohol and drugs, and dolling up the place for each visit to get more money. Patton was up to his eyes in stress, trying to hard, but feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. When Thomas found it, it took some convincing, but once he got through, he convinced Patton to kill the owners of the place. Even any kids that tried to stop him from doing so, after all, if they didn’t think their ‘Dad’ was doing what was right, then how can they be trusted? Something in Patton that day just snapped, but he hasn’t regretted it, he feels upset he had to kill them, but he easily waves it off that they just didn’t understand. It was better this way. Even in the Heart Sector he still is very much a parental figure. Taking care of the children of anyone who wanders into his sectors, ranging from ages 5 to 13. A few teens stick around and help their leader out before moving to other sectors later in life. As Patton despises most adults, finding them selfish and disgusting. Not that they last long when the kids all go in for the kill. One twisted little family there.

Sector - It’s two neighbors from the left is the Logic Sector and to the right is the Storm Cloud Sector. Given him and Virgil take care of the kids and teens they work really close together. With Patton as ‘Dad’ and Virgil as ‘Older Brother’. Across from it is the Imagination Sector. This sector is not as small as the Storm Cloud Sector, but not as big as Logic and Snake Sectors are. it’s a decent size through and a safe haven for kids, well... safe if your a crazed, insane, murder child. It’s as a ‘Wonderland’ to little kids, most people say to avoid it, especially the Hope Foundation, as harming children isn’t what they are about.Patton is very nice to kids and most teens, he teaches them to survive in this world and the things they need in life. Adults that he does like are often ‘Teachers’ in his sector.

Roman Sanders: Background - Oof, this one is a sad one. Roman and his twin Remus great up on the streets from a young age when they were abandoned at the age of 6. As they grew up, many kids came to see them as their ‘Heroes’. Something both twins took pride in, and vowed to help those weaker than them. When they are about turn 16, Thomas, about early 20′s this time, took them in and gave them a home. Though, as they lived with Thomas, their savior subtly would imply the other was unfaithful and planning something. He easily turned the brothers against each other with this, and sat back watching the sparks. A heated argument broke out, and ended with Roman killing his twin brother. Roman was crushed by this, and thus the despair settled in. Thomas comforted him afterwards, and something in Roman’s mind just snapped. There and then he vowed to be everyone ‘Hero’ in his sector, going into the deluded fantasy he was the ‘Prince’ or the ‘Knight in Shining Armor’ for them. Thus is where this sector comes into play.

Sector - The Imagination Sector neighbors are the Storm Cloud Sector to the right and to his left is the largest sector the Snake Sector and right across from the Heart Sector. This sector... oh boy, if you thought Logic’s sector is deadly then steer clear from Roman’s. These traps are designed to kill you slowly, I say slowly because Roman is meant to ‘save’ you like the ‘hero’ he is. For those who have read or seen Hunger Games, think of the traps like the Pods in Mockingjay. Thanks Logan, he’s the one who designed the traps, as a result very few know how to navigate the area. Safe for those that live there and the leaders. Roman and his Knights ‘save’ people from these traps. Though, not everyone survives these twisted games. Shockingly people enter because this sector actually holds the food source of them, well guarded and is the most abundant in resources. Something Roman takes pride in and defends ferociously. His Knights are a few select people who Roman and Thomas trust deeply, they are ruthless, and very strong. Dressed in reds and blacks and very intimidating, brainwashed all to hell. One thing to note, you better be VERY grateful to Roman if he saves you, because boy is just a ruthless. Not afraid to toss you back into danger should he think you are ungrateful. He works close with Logan, coming up with sick ways to trap people. And works alot with Janus in training people for the Despair.

Janus Sanders: Background - Say hello to another rich boy, and actually he’s the one whose dad used to ‘own’ most of the city. Having funded for most of the buildings, technology used, and owned the main company most worked for. But he was a rather neglectful father, cheated on Janus’s mother alot too, and mostly ignored his son from a young age. When Janus was older, about 16 or 17, a huge fight broke out between his father and mother. His dad pretty much was in a drunken rage, and Janus tried to defuse the situation. And the end result was he was burned on the right side of his face with hot water, deforming it slightly. His mother walked out, and his father said he was now ‘ugly’ to look at. Janus had alot of issues with self worth after this, as his father ignored him even more. Though he can see fine and talk, he still is very aware he looks like a monster. His father only ever gave him small jobs to do for the company, keeping his once handsome son out of the public’s eye. Out of sight, out of the way. When Thomas approached Janus, he wasn’t stupid, oh he knew what games Thomas was playing. But years of dealing with it ahd taken it’s toll, and Janus, though well aware of what Thomas was doing, didn’t care. He knew Thomas was only interested in his position and power. But, it was a chance, to get back on his father for it all. Sabotaging the city wasn’t hard, this is what happens when society relies too much on technology. The company took the fall out, and angry mob tore apart his father, the city imploded, and thus the Tragedy started and spread from there. Absolute anarchy. Janus found he agreed, despair was the only way, and it was wonderful. Still, despite knowing Thomas cared little like a actual person, Janus came to care for him. Even if it wasn’t reciprocated. More despair that way. Sector - The Snake Sector is the largest sector, making the parts the Logic Sector needs. Filled with the most cunning, manipulative, and feared people in Thomas’s Despair Army. Janus is their ring leader, and shows his little snakelings how to get by in the world. He enjoys it, showing them the skills to use people, to make things that work well to help you. This sector is the power source of the area, and is the second entrance to the main area where Thomas is. Janus is Thomas’s right hand, and is the one who helps with the brainwashing along with Logan and Roman, who he works close with. Though not confusing or deadly as the others, you can’t really trust in inhabitants who will lead you astray easily. Trust No One. And if you happen to get close to Janus, best be careful, because the final challenge isn’t easy, and many have died by his hand. It’s all a game to him, and Janus loves mind games.

Virgil Sanders: Background - His is possibly the shortest like with Romans. Simple enough, he was also abused, but his parents were much worse. Never having wanted a child, they would often lock Virgil in the basement with one dinky light that barely did anything and was prone to busting alot. He lived with the spiders there, and became scared of the dark and enclosed spaces. Though he was allowed the go to school, if he told anyone about his treatment, his parents easily deflected them. And he was punished harshly. As a result, he grew up rather small, he’s easily the shortest of all the leaders. While at school, he met a man in his 20′s. Thomas wasn’t like other adults, who listened, he cared, and he helped Virgil. Convincing the other to take his despair and get revenge. Helping Virgil kill his parents that night and hide their bodies. Not that they were ever missed, Virgil isn’t even sure if the police or neighbors ever even noticed. He ran away with Thomas, and he was the fourth person recruited. Patton came to care deeply for his ‘dark strange son’. And Virgil, who was affectionate and touch starved, soaked it all up, coming to care for Patton. Roman took on the role of ‘older brother’ fast, with Janus and Logan being ‘mothers’. Something Virgil came to adore. Sure, this family is twisted, but he’s never locked up, starved, or put in the dark again.

Sector - The Storm Cloud sector, is the smallest of all of them, and is mostly on the outskirts, how Virgil likes it. Neighbors to the right being the Heart Sector and the left the Imagination Sector. It’s the one of the three entrances into the city itself, and is the main main one into it. With two back door areas being the Heart and Imagination. Mostly teenagers live here in the brooding atmosphere and darken streets, who shy away when the sun is out. Which for the are they live in isn’t much. Virgil is the ‘Older Brother’ to them. A role he takes seriously as he doesn’t want someone to have to live as he did. Only the most unruly get that treatment, but shockingly he never has to give out many punishments. Working along side Patton mostly in taking care of the kids and teens, few adults live in his area. As, like Patton, he despises most adults. Virgil is very good with fears, and knows just how to push someones buttons. Oh he may look all soft and innocent, but like his sector, looks are deceiving. You’d think it’s just a bunch of teenagers being their usual selves in a ‘life sucks’ phase. But boy are you wrong, they are armed, they are trained the kill, and enjoy doing so to any who things their sector is the ‘easy’ sector.

And there you have it, let me know if you guys want any oneshots on any of my AU’s. Fanart is well needed. And if you like these AU’s, I might post some of my more happier ones rather than dark ones. Any questions? feel free to ask!

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simpsonsnight · 4 years ago

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Episode #200

Trash of the Titans Season 9 - Episode 22 | April 26, 1998 Episode TWO-HUNDO! This one *kinda* feels like a special episode. Steve Martin and U2 as guest stars is a pretty big deal, I guess. Homer becomes sanitation commissioner and makes a big mess of everything. A budget crisis causes him to hire out Springfield to be dumped in by other cities, causing a garbage eruption all over the place. They move the whole town 5 miles down the road, which is a funny and memorable gag. Continuity heads take heed: It’s just a joke that I’m pretty sure they never reference again, like the much-hated Armin Tamzarian episode. What surprises me is that between episode 100 & episode 200, I think I actually like this one better. It’s funnier. The first act is excellent, and the U2 scenes are kinda lame, but forgivable. At least it’s realistically handled with them throwing Homer out of the concert, and not inexplicably like “we’re going to help you now and be friends with you, HOMER!”. And like I said, the ending is satisfying enough. Daddy... like? My friend London once pinpointed the actual Simpsons jump-the-shark moment with a specific scene in this episode where Homer sings “The Garbage Man Can” song. The jump-the-shark moment occurs with the line “’cuz he’s Homer Simpson Man”, which is really fucking awful. While I don’t think the song overall is bad, that line sure is, and I always think of London when it plays. Along with “what do I think of the pie?” from Special Edna it’s one of the worst musical Simpsons moments in the series. The Simpsons should have gotten out of the music biz after they Sang the Blues.

MAIL BAG

Here’s a message from back when the B-SODE was a thing:

respect the b-sode. at least read a wiki page about it and throw a zinger or two

Okay I’m sure I don’t have much in the way of new readers who don’t know or care what the B-SODE is, but I’ll remind everyone: I used to do a thing where I matched up the Simpsons episode with an episode of another animated show that was thematically similar to (or sometimes just had one thing in common with) the Simpsons episode being covered. I had a rule that the show had to be of a similar vintage from the Simpsons episode I was reviewing. (If the Simpsons episode was from 1992, for example, I could use anything from 1990-1994 for the B-SODE). When I started the blog I would watch every B-SODE, Then life became hellish and I needed to work two jobs to pay all my bills and the B-SODE eventually became more and more of an afterthought until I just axed it all together. Honestly researching cartoons for the B-SODE was a huge pain, especially when I had to do it for a modern episode. Here’s an example: In season 1 Bart cuts the head of a statue. Ren & Stimpy, an early Simpsons contemporary, had an episode where they destroy the head of an Abe Lincoln statue. See how easy that is? But in season 26 when the episodes are like: “Homer is addicted to craigslist/Lisa starts dumpster diving/Bart gets in trouble for lunch-trading at school/the couch gag is a 7 minute parody of Bosch/it ends with a 2 minute stand-alone short with Mr. Burns explaining the electoral college” what the fuck am I even supposed to do with that?? I’m thinking when the Simpsons-every-day portion of the blog is done, I’ll probably start covering different Simpsons-adjacent shows in some capacity. I’m making an insane unwieldy list as we speak. Not committing to anything, I’m just putting it out there. Might watch stuff casually and do little recaps covering the shows as a whole when the mood strikes. Hey it could happen!

lol half some self control man i just wanna see u write about the simpsons not hear you beg to say a slur

Haha, I kinda remember what post this is referring to, I went off on some tangent where I was like “LOOK I SHOULD GET TO SAY RETARD OR FAGGOT WHILE I’M DRIVING OR ELSE I’LL KILL SOMEONE”. And guess what it? It’s true! I stopped saying both this year and so many have died because of it. Many of them cops. Anyway, I’ll try not to slur unless it’s my birthday or something.

#simpsons #season 9

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softbiker · 5 years ago

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Born to Run - Chapter 4

Warnings: some language, descriptions of injuries

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: this chapter features a proposition, some explanations, and an intro to a new character :) the response to this series has been overwhelming! I did not expect it to get very popular lol. As always, let me know what you think!

Steve flicked the cigarette he was holding and returned it to his lips. Its glowing tip lit his face from underneath as he took a slow drag, then exhaled through his nose, letting the smoke float around his face.

“She did a damn good job, way better than Barton.”

“Under pressure, too.”

“Does she have anybody here? Family or friends?”

Sam and Steve turned to Bucky, who had his arms crossed while he listened to their exchange.

“No one,” he shook his head. “She’s alone in that house.”

“That’s good,” Steve nodded. “Less of a risk.”

“So…” Sam looked between the two of them. “We all agree?” Steve raised his eyebrows at Bucky.

“No,” Bucky frowned. “But I know I can’t stop you.”

***********************************************************************

A week after the carnival, Y/N finally understood a bit more about her situation. After applying careful pressure to Charlotte, she learned that Mr. Van Horn’s use of the word “gang” was not a stylistic choice: Barnes and his friends run a motorcycle club called the ‘Avengers’ that had quite the reputation around town. Some feverish googling revealed that no criminal charges had ever been filed against the members, but it didn’t stop people from being suspicious. Several local news articles accused them of a string of vandal acts in 4 neighboring counties, spray-painting a skull and crossbones on public buildings and signs.

Y/N kept a close eye out for her neighbor after that - she listened for his motorcycle leaving the house and planned her own trips around his absence. She had the locks changed on the front door and went to the hardware store for a security alarm for the front and back doors of the house. Still, she was on edge whenever she was at home, alone in her quietly creaking house, with nothing but the sound of the TV for company. She started taking melatonin to help herself get to sleep at night.

As far as she could tell, Bucky was making no attempt to see her, either. He often left his house late at night and returned sometime after she had left for work, or stayed gone for a couple days at a time. If he worked a real job she couldn’t tell what it was - his comings and goings were so sporadic there was no way he was holding down a 9 to 5 somewhere. In any case, Y/N was just glad that their opposing schedules never allowed their paths to cross.

A week after the carnival, Y/N was sitting in her office at the clinic, filling out invoices for supplies. As a kid, she never imagined being a doctor would involve so much paperwork and planning, but somehow the dull minutiae of “real” jobs would always catch up with you. She puffed out a sigh and leaned back in her chair, refreshing the email page on her desktop. A reminder for a birthday party she wouldn’t be able to attend popped up, along with a student newsletter from her medical college she kept forgetting to unsubscribe to. She went back to her invoices.

A knock at the door startled her from her pile of paperwork. Charlotte poked her head in.

“Um, exam room 1,” she squeaked, clearing her throat before she continued. “The patient is ready in exam room 1.”

“Oh,” Y/N frowned. “I thought we had seen our scheduled patients already this morning? Is it an emergency visit?”

Charlotte’s eyes darted to the side before she nodded.

“Alright, then.” Y/N stood from her desk and slipped her lab coat back on. “What am I in for?”

“Um...I think you should just see for yourself.” Charlotte’s voice was tight, an octave higher than usual. She scurried back to her place at the front desk before Y/N could ask her anymore questions.

With her mind spinning a thousand worst-case scenarios, walked down the hall and opened the door to exam room 1.

Fuck.

The room was practically at capacity with the 3 burly men occupying it. On the exam table, swinging his long legs, was a smiling Steve Rogers; Sam Wilson sat in the chair next to him, browsing a pamphlet on STDs; and leaning against the wall next to the door was the man she tried so desperately to avoid - Bucky Barnes, in the flesh. His thick arms were crossed over his chest as he glared at the other two men, not sparing her a glance.

“Hi, doc.” Steve lifted his hand in a small wave. “I came to check up on my stitches.” Sam looked up over his pamphlet and waved, too. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed.

“And you needed two friends to come with you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rogers nodded.

“We’re here for moral support,” Sam piped up.

“Uh huh.” She glanced at Bucky again, who continued to give her the cold shoulder. “Okay. Should only take a couple of minutes.”

She washed her hands, worked on a pair of gloves, and stepped closer to examine Steve’s forehead. Having three large, and reportedly dangerous, men in one small exam room with her set her nerves on edge. Their complete silence while they watched her certainly didn’t help at all, but she was nothing if not a professional, so she took her pen light from the pocket of her lab coat and leaned into his personal space as if it didn’t bother her.

“Hm. This has healed up nicely, Mr. Rogers,” she nodded, tucking the light away.

“Just Steve is fine.”

“Steve, then. Let me just cut these stitches out and then you can be on your way.”

“Sounds good.”

She opened the cabinets above the sink and pulled out some bandages, scissors, tweezers, and alcohol wipes, laying them all out on a moveable tray next to the exam table. She could feel Bucky’s eyes on her and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Still, he was silent as he kept his place by the door.

While she wiped down the area and started clipping the stitches, Sam made light small talk - asking about her weekend, how she was enjoying the clinic and the town, if she’d be going out of town for Labor Day. Y/N wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all, but gave him polite, short answers. She never asked him about himself, but she’d prefer to stay at arms length of all these men.

She swiped the cut again with an alcohol wipe and then covered it with a bandage, stepping back from the table.

“Alright, you’re all done, Steve.”

“Thank you, doc,” Steve smiled appreciatively. “You do good work.”

Y/N shrugged, tugging her gloves off and tossing them in the trash.

“It’s not like you really have a lot of options.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, looking at Sam. “Which is why...we have a proposition for you.”

Y/N blinked. Had she heard him correctly?

“What does that mean?”

“I think you must have heard about us by now, doc,” Sam said, rising from his chair. “The Avengers could use a medic like you.”

“We’re...accident prone,” Steve added. “And as you know, there’s not a hospital nearby, so we’re stuck with having one of our members doing a little first aid whenever we get beat up. But having a real doctor around? Could really save our asses.”

“I’m sorry...what exactly is it that you’re asking me to do?”

“It’s just some extra work on the side. After clinic hours, you’d be available for a member of our club if they needed any medical care. We could come to your place or bring you to the clubhouse, we’ll get you any supplies you need. And of course we’ll pay you.”

Steve was calm and confident while making his pitch, Sam standing beside him and watching her closely. Y/N’s brain was spinning. They were basically asking her to join their motorcycle club, right? Staying at the clubhouse and patching up their buddies? What the fuck was happening. She looked over at Bucky, who had stayed silent this entire time. His eyes were on her now, and they looked...wary. Tired. It was like he was asking her something but she just couldn’t hear him.

“No, I’m afraid I’m not interested.”

“Not interested? In getting extra money for doing your job?” Sam’s eyebrows went up.

“My job is running this clinic, not playing nurse for a biker gang,” Y/N fumed. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “You’ve really got some nerve coming in here and telling me that - but I took out your stitches and answered your question, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

She crossed her arms, giving the three of them a final glare before opening the exam room door and motioning for them to get out. The men shuffled out, their massive height filling the doorway. Steve glanced at her as he passed.

“If you change your mind, the offer is still on the table,” he said. Then they were gone.

Back in her office, Y/N slumped forward and laid her head on her desk. What the hell was that? How was this happening to her? ‘Young doctor moves to a small town, joins a biker gang’ sounded like a really bad premise for a movie.

She ate her lunch alone at her desk, obsessing over the situation. Joining a biker club was insane. Completely batshit. There was no chance in hell she would consider it. But on the other hand...Steve had said they would pay her. How much could they offer? She had to admit, she was weakly tempted by the money. If an extra paycheck helped her pay off her student loans faster, she could get out of here...move back to the city, back to her life. Her texts were full of friends begging her to come back and visit, sad that she was stuck in the middle of nowhere. Besides Charlotte, she hadn’t really managed to make a lot of connections here. It was lonely and hard...and patching up a few bikers on the side for a year or so could get it all over with.

But no, she told herself. Still not worth it. Absolutely not worth getting arrested when the Avengers got busted for drugs or human trafficking or murder. These bikers could end up ruining the rest of her life. No way. She’d take the slower, safer route, even if it was more boring.

Around mid-afternoon, Stacey, one of her other nurses, announced another walk-in patient.

“He says he wants you to look at his shoulder, he thinks he might have injured it in a football game,” she shrugged. Y/N nodded and slipped into the exam room.

Yet another large, muscular man in her clinic - where was this town getting all of these beefy men? He had removed his leather jacket and was sitting on her exam table in a white t-shirt and jeans; his hair was shaved on the sides and longer on top, slicked back from his forehead, and his arms were covered in tattoos. He had a nice enough face, she thought, even though he looked like his nose had been broken one too many times, and there was something...shifty about him. A little greasy.

“Good afternoon Mr…” she glanced at her chart. “Rumlow, is it?”

“Oh, you can call me Brock,” he smiled, a little sleazy.

“Okay, Brock. So it’s your shoulder bringing you in today?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay. Let’s have a look then.”

He nodded and pulled off his shirt before she could tell him not to, revealing even more tattoos across his muscled skin. He turned halfway, showing her his right shoulder.

“Oh, wow. Um, well there’s a lot of bruising here,” she said, stepping closer. The skin all around his shoulder and collarbone was bruised purple and blue. “How did this happen?”

“Playing football with some buddies,” he sighed, turning to give her that smile again. “I guess we like it a little rough.”

“Hm.” She ignored his comment. “Can you rotate it?”

She tested his range of motion, felt the area and asked about his pain. She brought Stacy back in and did an X-ray, to check for a break in his humerus. The results all seemed fine, which was a relief, as she was starting to feel uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her.

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have any broken bones - I think you just have some really deep bruising from the impact,” she said, putting her X-rays to the side. “So I would advise you to just be gentle with it, take it easy, and put some ice on it every day. The muscles need a little time to heal - so no football for now.”

“Alright, doctor’s orders,” Rumlow raised his hands in surrender.

“Anything else?” Y/N asked politely, ready to be out of the room.

“Well...now that you mention it,” he said slowly, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. “I was wondering if you were taking on any new patients. No special conditions - other than a sweet tooth, that is.” There was something in his smile, like he knew something she didn’t. She cleared her throat.

“If you’d like for us to keep your information on file, you can ask Charlotte at the front desk and fill out some paperwork,” she nodded.

“Alright then.” He hopped off the table and turned to slip his jacket back on. She could see a skull and crossbones tattoo on the back of his neck.

“Have a good day, Mr. Rumlow.”

“Brock.”

“Right.” She held the door for him and was glad when he was down the hallway and out of sight.

*************************************************************************

Y/N was in bed by 9:00 that night, too tired to care. Maybe living in an old woman’s house was turning her into the spinster she had always feared. But today was just too much, and she crawled into her bed with her clothes still on and passed out.

She woke to someone pounding on her front door.

Blearily she glanced at her alarm clock - 2:05 am. Why would someone be here at that hour? The pounding continued as she dragged herself out of her warm covers and stumbled towards the front door, remembering to grab her pepper spray off the lanyard on her nightstand. She crept up to the door on soft, silent feet, waiting for the banging to stop.

“Who is it?” she yelled when they took a break.

“Bucky,” he called, sounding exhausted. “Please, open the door?”

She hesitated, her hand hovering over the knob. This man was the rumored enforcer of a dangerous motorcycle club. She should not help him or be his friend, or let him in to her house at 2 in the morning.

“Please?” he called again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear. I just...need your help.”

She sighed. Probably more stitches, or a broken hand from punching someone. Y/N turned the lock and swung the door open. Bucky was leaning hunched against the door frame, one of his hands pressed to his stomach. In the glow of the porchlight she could see it was covered in blood, soaking the lower half of his shirt. He looked up weakly when the door opened, giving her an apologetic look.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he panted. “I’m sorry.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader fic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #avengers #avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic

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langdvnshepherd · 6 years ago

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Good For You ~ Part 2 (Duncan Shepherd x fem!reader)

PART ONE (Part 3 linked at the end)

Summary: You’re a broke ass college student whose one night stand with the infamous Duncan Shepherd leads to the development of a rather interesting relationship between the two of you. — You thought your relationship with Duncan was nothing more than an arrangement. But when he catches wind that you’re seeing other people in the mean time, is that really all it is?

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: sugar daddy!Duncan, fem!reader, smut, oral sex (male receiving), jealous!Duncan lmao, dirty talk, rough sex, spanking, plot heavy obvi

A/N: Sorry this took forever, I wanted to work out all of the details before I continued this story! Let me know what you think, and what you want to see in the next part, because I have one more part planned to wrap this up if that’s something you guys are interested in! I have the main plot outlined, but I’m totally open to suggestions for other little scenarios! Also shoutout to @avesatanormalpeoplescareme for the inspo for this! It helped so much thank u I owe you my life.

The following months after agreeing to Duncan’s little, arrangement, per se had been going pretty great. Well, better than great actually. You were less stressed than you’d ever been. Working less hours at the coffee shop due to the continuous stream of cash flowing into your account had done wonders for that wrinkle in your forehead caused by the constant worry of trying to make rent. Not living paycheck to paycheck whilst simultaneously having some of the best sex of your life was a situation you’d never thought you’d find yourself in, yet here you were. You had acquired a new pep in your step, and you never wanted it to end.

Keeping Duncan happy was pretty simple. He’d fallen into a routine. The two of you met on Thursday nights, the same hotel and the same room. He always texted you beforehand, but it’s not like you weren’t already expecting it. A blacked out SUV arrived promptly at your apartment, and dropped you off at the front steps of the hotel. He’d greet you at the door, and have your clothes ripped off before you made it to the bed. You started to wonder if maybe he was married, that he had a wife and kids somewhere and that’s why he always insisted on meeting at the hotel. He assured you that he wasn’t, he just didn’t want his security team alerting anyone of the new role you now played in his life.

He wasn’t lying when he’d said he’d take care of you. Usually, your gifts were delivered to your apartment. A new laptop, a Birkin bag, Prada sunglasses, random all-inclusive weekend trips with your roommate, and anything Yves Saint Laurent made you probably owned now thanks to Duncan. The packages, regardless of their contents, always came with a delicately wrapped parcel of lingerie. Sometimes it was just a new pair of lacy panties, other times a full set complete with fishnet stockings and garter belt. He’d never told you outright that he wanted you to wear it when you were together, but you figured those were his intentions. It always got him going to see how beautiful you looked thanks to him and his money.

Other times, he would just slide you his black card and let you keep it for the week to do whatever you pleased. You were hesitant at first, not knowing what his limit was. But given that he had been supplying you with enough funds to pay your bills, you didn’t think he really had one. Still, you tried not to go too overboard. You’d get your nails done, change up the tone of your hair, maybe have a spa day or pick out a few new pairs of shoes for yourself, all at Duncan’s expense. You quickly found out that he couldn’t care less how much you’d end up spending, it was more of a kink for him than anything. The more, the better in his opinion. He was far more preoccupied by the way your ass looked in the jeans he’d bought you the week before than to worry about the charges on his account.

In the beginning, you’d felt dirty about the entire situation. It kinda felt like you were doing something illegal by allowing Duncan to buy you such extravagant things when all you were doing was fucking his brains out. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with the way your relationship worked, it was just something you’d only ever seen in movies and never once thought you’d be living out yourself. Turns out, Duncan was decent company. You always hung around for a few hours after fucking just to talk to each other for a while. Duncan would ask you about your classes and make sure you were taking care of yourself. He’d vent to you about the assholes that worked for him and you’d rant about your stupid professor that gave you a C on an essay you knew for a fact you’d deserved as least a B+ on. “I can get them fired if you want, you know. Got a few secrets of theirs up my sleeve that I’ve been dying to share,” he would joke.

“Oh yeah?” you’d laugh along, “You’re sponsors. Don’t think that would serve your family all too well now would it?”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

Having more free time away from work also meant that you also had more time to socialize with people your age for once. A few weeks ago, you’d met a guy at a party thrown by a fraternity your university. He was tall, hot, charming; at least that’s what you initially thought. You’d hooked up with him that night, and somehow he ended up with your phone number. He asked you out on a proper date, and you said yes seeing as there was no harm in giving it a shot. The entire night, all he did was talk about himself. Anything that came out of his mouth served no other purpose than to boost his ego, not that he even had anything to be proud of; his frat was notorious for being sexist pigs and it was beginning to be blatantly obvious. It was clear that he was far more interested in you than you were into him, but you kept him around. You only hooked up with Duncan once a week, so you needed someone to fill the gaps during his absence. He was tolerable.

With this new man in your life came a problem: every time he would fuck you, all you could think about was Duncan. The way his hands would roam your body like he knew every inch and every pressure point that made you squirm. The way his tongue felt gliding over your hips before dipping down to taste you. This guy had nothing on Duncan, and you knew it. He was rough, but not in the way that you liked. He didn’t care about your pleasure in any capacity; sometimes he pulled out without even bothering to make sure you finished too. As much as you hated to admit it, the only time you were even able cum was when your eyes were screwed shut, completely ignoring the boy on top of you and imagining it was Duncan pounding you into next week. There was just something about the way he carried himself and the fact that he had given you everything you could ever ask for that made every other man seem dull and bleak.

One particularly hot day, a Tuesday, you were seated at a picnic table in the courtyard on campus. Enjoying the sun, you figured you’d spend your break in between classes outside studying. Your exposed legs were perched atop one of the bench seat, on full display for anyone that walked by; your chest adorned with a see-through blouse that was unbuttoned a few more holes than what was considered appropriate. The beams that shone on you made your slightly sweaty skin glisten in an almost otherworldly way. Not getting to enjoy the rays for long, your tranquil state was brought to a halt when none other than your favorite frat boy made his presence known by tugging one headphone from your ear.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“Hey dollface, whatcha up to?” he asked, clearly unaware that you were a bit preoccupied.

“Well, I was trying to study for my Global Politics exam. But it seems like that’s not going to happen with you sitting here,” you answered, clearly annoyed. He smirked and laughed as if you’d meant it as a compliment. Yuck.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to go to Chad’s party on Thursday night. It’s gonna be insane! He’s got basically all of Sigma Chi coming, so you know that some crazy shit’s gonna go down.” God, you really couldn’t stand to listen to this man talk. He’s lucky his cock was so big or else you’d have blocked his number by now. Thursdays were reserved for Duncan, so even if had any inking of an interest in going it was an automatic no.

“Sorry, I’ve got plans. I can’t,” you didn’t want him to press the matter any further.

“Oh yeah, like what?” he questioned, his hand moving to rest on the top of your bare thigh.

“Listen, I just can’t. Okay?” He didn’t move his hand from your leg. Instead he began to massage the soft skin on the inside of your thigh in a manner that was far too crude for the public eye. It was his poor attempt at trying to persuade you, as if his actions actually had any effect on you as of lately.

He continued to go on and on about this stupid fucking party, his fingers still kneading your skin. Not wanting to look at his face any longer, you rolled your eyes and tilted your head in the other direction. That was when you heard the deep, rich voice you’d recognize anywhere quickly coming in your direction. The voice that occupied your thoughts at all times, the voice that muttered those words that made you come undone in a matter of minutes.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as soon as you saw him. There, walking with the dean of your university, was Duncan fucking Shepherd looking as entrancing as ever. Even in this stupid fucking heat, he still looked like he just walked out of a fucking magazine. He was making his way through the courtyard chatting with the Dean of the university. Most likely, he was talking up some another sponsorship deal that would inevitably promote the Shepherd Freedom Foundation as he always was, but you didn’t have time to listen to what he was saying. Before you knew it, his eyes were on yours. They flickered with recognition before realizing the position in which he had just caught you in: sprawled out on a bench seat, short shorts, chest out, with some boy’s hand between your legs. He took in your form, his eyes lingering for a noticeable amount of time on your thighs and the way the boy beside you seemed to be getting a little too handsy. He looked angry, his eyes boring a hole into your skin and his lips pursing just slightly.

In an instant, he was back to acting like he hadn’t even noticed you in the first place. He carried on his conversation with the Dean and kept walking until he was out of your sight. What the fuck just happened? Was he actually mad? It sure as hell seemed like it. He’d never told you that you couldn’t see other people. Your relationship was an arrangement, not exclusive. You quickly removed the boy’s hand from your leg and threw your books into your bag. You had to get the fuck out of there before Duncan came back to confront you.

“Damn, leaving so soon? We’re still on for this afternoon though, right?” You weren’t really sure how you’d even caught his question with all of the anxiety flowing through your body from being caught red-handed with another boy in front of Duncan.

“Uh, yeah sure. Whatever. I’ve got to go. See ya.” Your brief interaction with Duncan, if you could even call it that, had left you with your panties soaked. If he wasn’t there to give you release, you had to make do. This impotent frat boy was going to have to work.

You never heard anything from Duncan after the incident at school. Maybe he wasn’t as bothered by it as you’d thought. Maybe it had just caught him off guard as much as it did you to see each other unannounced like that. After cooling down, you’d decided it wasn’t a big deal regardless. You were allowed to see other people just as much as he was. The sex and money were just that. You were friends at most. It still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about him the entire time during your hookup that afternoon.

Just as you’d arrived back to your apartment, you received a text from Duncan asking you to meet with him. It was only Tuesday, so that was odd. Shit, maybe he was mad. You quickly responded, and within half an hour the SUV was parked outside waiting for you. Climbing in, you were preparing yourself for the worst. Was he going to break it off? Was he going to yell at you? You honestly had no clue. When the driver passed the usual exit you took to get to the hotel, you grew confused.

“Excuse me, where are we going? You passed the exit for the hotel.” you stated.

“Mr. Shepherd has requested your presence at his residence this evening, Miss,” he retorted. This was new. Duncan’s never invited you over to his place before. You’d only ever seen him within the confines of the lavish hotel. Something was definitely going to go down, and you weren’t sure if you were more nervous or excited.

It didn’t Duncan but a second to greet you at the entrance of his apartment after a few hesitant rattles of your fist against the door. His face broke out in a slight smirk, satisfied that you’d agreed to come over on such short notice.

“Y/N, I’m glad you could make it. Sorry I couldn’t make a reservation at the hotel this late, and it was...urgent that I saw you tonight,” he stated. His manner was very composed, but somewhat cold. Yep. He was definitely mad. You didn’t say anything, you simply followed him further into the apartment. The exposed brick walls were painted a stark white, and sleek, black furniture littered the open space. A giant Keith Haring painting hung perfectly on the wall, and the kitchen was probably larger than your room for Christ’s sake. The entire apartment was dripping with wealth. He walked you to what was presumably his bedroom, also adorned with minimalist decor you knew cost more than all four years of your tuition.

“Care for a drink?” he asked without even turning to look at you whilst making his way over to the bar cart that rested in the corner of the room.

“Uh, sure,” your voice went up an octave as you tried to suppress the way his stoic composure made you so incredibly nervous and turned on at the same time. You took the glass from him and quickly threw it back. Alcohol was necessary for whatever he was about to say or do to you. Handing the glass back to him, his hands lingered on yours for a moment, relishing the feeling of your skin on his.

Sensing your timidness, Duncan moved his hands to grip you by the shoulder and brush your hair out of your face to try and calm you. As he tucked the loose strand behind your ear, his eyes caught a glimpse of a blue-ish purple shadow that adorned the column of your neck. You weren’t aware of this, however. It wasn’t until he took your cheek in his hand, ran his finger along the edge of your jaw, trailing it down slowly to firmly apply pressure to the bruise on your neck that you realized what he had seen. Wincing at the feeling of his thumb digging into the bruise, it dawned on you. Fuck. You had told your little frat boy you’d met with earlier that afternoon no marks, guess he really wasn’t good for shit. His eyes blackened, and his nostrils flared slightly at the thought of knowing someone else had done this to you, that someone else had been inside of you.

“Get on your knees.”

Out of instinct, you let out a chuckle. “What is this? A punishment? Because I fucked another guy? Are you jealous or something?” He only continued to stare deep into your eyes as you lashed out. He hummed in response before speaking.

“You can be a real fucking brat sometimes. You know that, Y/N?” he replied while moving his hands to his belt, beginning to undo the buckle. You hadn’t had time to notice the tent in his pants begging to be set free. “But no, sweetheart, this isn’t a punishment. Far from it, actually. Think of it as a reward.” Oh, he was definitely jealous. He just wasn’t going to admit it. And it was hot.

His words sent sparks ablaze inside of you. Reaching for the buckle yourself, you quickly made work of unzipping his dress slacks, grabbing both his pants and his boxers and letting them pool around his ankles in one go. You were now eye-level with his throbbing erection, small beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock. Taking his member into your hand, you guided it to your lips and ran your tongue around the tip before partially taking him into your mouth a couple times. He hissed in response and shut his eyes tightly, pleasure already taking over him.

You withdrew him from your mouth completely and ducked your head down to lick a flat line from in between his balls along the underside of his cock to the tip, feeling the large vein that ran along his shaft brush against your tongue. He let out a shaky breath mixed with a strangled, “Fuck,” at the feeling. You smirked against him as you went back to alternating between small kisses and kitten licks along his head. Done with your teasing, he abruptly grabbed you by the back of your hair and eagerly forced himself down your throat. You gagged slightly as his cock brushed the back of your throat, Duncan finally letting out the moan he’d been suppressing. He couldn’t help but buck his hips into your mouth, only pushing himself further into you. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and slowly rolled down your cheeks at the sudden sensation of his movement.

Once Duncan was fully seated in your throat, you began to bob your head up and down along his cock. Setting your pace, you took him in your mouth as far as you could, pumping what you couldn’t with your hands. Your steady rhythm elicited a strong of grunts to fall from Duncan’s lips. He continued unravel and found it incredibly difficult to keep from pushing your head further down onto him each time.

“That’s it, take daddy’s cock. God, your pretty little mouth feels so fucking good when I’m fucking your face like this.” His praise caused you to moan against his cock, the vibrations making his knees shake slightly. He was beginning to lose his composure, and you knew he was reaching his breaking point.

Without warning, he ripped you off of him by the roots of your hair. Letting out a yelp, you looked up at him in anticipation of what he was going to do next. He peered at you with blissful eyes as he helped you off your spot on the floor. The hem of your shirt was over your head before you were back on your feet, your shorts and bra hitting the ground with an aggressive whack as he threw them to the side. Backing you up to the bed, he bent down and swept your legs out from under you, causing you to fall back onto the plush mattress. You backed yourself slowly up the bed, maintaining eye contact with Duncan and he quickly removed what was left of his clothing. He was still rock hard, his cock bobbing in the air as he made his way back up to you at the front of the bed.

You could feel his breath fanning across your body as he kept his head almost flush with your chest and made his way up to meet your face, supporting himself with a firm grip on your legs. He took in the mess he had made of you: cheeks sparkling with tears, lips plump from the events that took place only moments ago, hair in knots from his tight grip. Approving of his handiwork, he trailed back down your chest, leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses from the bottom of your ribcage down to the waistband of your panties.

“Were you wearing the panties I bought you?” he questioned, breaking the silence.

“W-was I what?”

“Were you wearing the panties I bought you when you fucked that boy I saw you with today?” You froze. His words paralyzed you. You couldn’t do anything but stare at him as your labored breaths caused your chest to dramatically rise and fall.

He smirked at the look on your face. Hooking his thumbs around the thin lace, he slowly slid your panties down your legs and dropped them at his side. You knew you were soaking wet by now, Duncan’s blatant rage and jealously at the thought of you fucking someone else only fueled the fire in the pit of your stomach.

“Were you this wet for him? Were you dripping for him like you are for me right now?” He ran his pointer and middle fingers through your slick, finally touching you for the first time that night. The simple touch made you jolt forwards and exhale loudly.

After a few more slow, antagonizing circles around your clit, Duncan removed his fingers from your core. He quickly gripped you by your ankles and flipped you over so you were lying face down against his bed, your cheek now pressed into his fluffy pillow. You felt one of his hands grab at your waist, raising your ass into the air and then using the other hand to press your chest back down onto the mattress so your body was arching forwards.

“I wonder if he knows what you really like? That you like to be thrown around,” he paused to rear his hand back and lay a firm smack against your ass that was sure to leave a bright red handprint, “spanked. That you cum harder with a hand wrapped around your throat.”

You finally felt the tip of his cock run along you ass down to your clit, preparing you to be split in two. Duncan chuckled before adding, “Fuck, did he even make you cum, Y/N? Or was he too caught up in himself to care about you?” His questions were rhetorical. It was all for his benefit, to prove that he was better for you than the little boy he had caught you with in the courtyard. An ego boost. A way to displace his jealousy. He was right though, and you knew it. Nothing compared to the times you had shared with Duncan. The frat boy you’d been seeing was just that, a boy.

With a swift thrust, Duncan buried himself inside of you. The pillow muffled your scream, but it was still loud enough to echo throughout the room. He pulled himself all the way out before slamming back into your aching cunt with a jealous force. He was determined to have you so full of him that you wouldn’t be able to remember the name of guy who you’d been screwing before him. His speed combined with the angle of your ass in the air made every inch of his cock fill you with ecstacy. Your moans were replaced with chants of his name. Combined with the sounds of his hips smacking into your ass and the sloshing coming from each thrust into your core, you were becoming unable to even hold yourself up in the air.

It felt like he had been pounding into you for an eternity, and you never wanted it to end. You felt your release winding up inside of you, causing your eyes to screw shut and your body to hold as still as possible in order to bring it on faster. Your moans became whimpers, and you gripped at his sheets so hard your knuckles turned white. Duncan sensed how close you were, and promptly pulled out before flipping you over once again to rest on your back.

He gripped the base of your neck and applied slight pressure as he entered you again and set his pace, only this time he was able to see your face. “Tell me, Y/N. Does he take care of you? Does he take care of this pussy like you know I can? Does he even have the means to make you feel the way I can?” Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as the words left his lips. It was almost enough to send you straight over the edge, but now quite.

“I need to know, love. Before I let you cum, does he take care of you like I can?” He took your leg and wrapped it around his wait so he could give your ass another hard smack and simultaneously hit your inner walls deeper and deeper.

“NO! He doesn’t make make me feel the way you do. No one does.” the words ripping through your lungs as you finally gained the energy to form something coherent. He was clearly pleased with your answer. Smirking to himself, he used the hand that was wrapped around your neck to pull you in for a kiss. It was sloppy and your noses smashed together, but it felt right. He dropped his head to your ear and moved his hand down to begin rolling your clit between his fingers.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Go ahead, cum for me. Daddy’s got you. You can let go.” He whispered as he placed hot, wet kisses over top of the hickey left by the guy he wanted to beat into oblivion.

With that, you were cumming. Hard. Duncan continued to fuck you through your orgasm, allowing you to ride every wave of pleasure that pulsed through your body. The way your cunt contracted around his cock brought on the start of his release in turn. His hips started to sputter and his eyes were screwed shut. He quickly removed himself from you before pumping his length in his hands a few last times. You felt hot ropes of his cum shoot up your belly and onto your breasts as his moans filled the room. The expression on his face was nothing less than a dream: mouth hung open, jaw tense, eyes rolled back like they were going to fall out of his head. Duncan immediately flopped back onto the bed, trying to recover from everything that had just happened.

After catching his breath, he propped himself up on one elbow and ran his fingers through the cum on your stomach before pressing two of them into your mouth to taste him. You eagerly accepted, wrapping your tongue around his digits to such them clean similar to the way you’d taken his cock earlier in the night. You couldn’t help but feel like the events that transpired from earlier today at school up until right now had changed things between you two. That the boy he’d seen you with triggered something inside of him that he’d perhaps been trying to avoid.

“What was that for?” you asked, hoping he’d clarify the reason behind his actions.

“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you knew who you belonged to.”

PART THREE

Tagging:

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @venusxxlangdon @langdons-rep @ccodyfern @michaellangdong @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @wroteclassicaly @omg-hellgirl @aveiangdon @belusima

#Duncan Shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd smut #michael langdon x reader #jim mason x reader #hoc #ahs #my writing #mine

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