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ttuesday · 3 years

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Hello there! Thank you for writing all these amazing headcanons! <333 I get so much joy when there's a new post from ya!

I had a prompt in mind: what are the gang members like when they get reaaaaly drunk? Who gets sad & sentimental, who gets all funny and jokey, who is all sleepy, and etc etc etc?

now this is an interesting one hehe

Arthur

When Arthur's drunk, he does his absolute best to try to convince everyone he isn't that drunk. He tries to walk in a straight line to prove he’s ok but accidentally walks into Uncle.

He somehow has great hearing and joins in on every sing song within a five mile radius. Arthur could be talking to you on the outskirts of camp but if he hears someone singing by the campfire, he joins in immediately.

He gets into a very jolly mood when he's drunk and talks about anything and everything. He rambles on about so much he interrupts himself a lot.

If he's sweet on you then Arthur asks to hold your hand and he won’t stop holding your hand for the e n t i r e night. No matter where you go or what you do, Arthur will potter after you with his hand still holding yours. And whenever you look at him, Arthur has a big, proud smile on his face as he looks at your hand in his.

Charles

Who is this man? Where tf did Charles go? He acts very differently than sober Charles. Whatever idea springs to mind, he wants to do it. If he wants to do interpretive dance in the middle of camp then that's exactly what he does or if he decides to go skinny dipping at 4am then off he goes, trying to find a lake or a river.

One second Charles could be laughing so much he's nearly crying, a second later he could start sobbing because he remembered that time he accidentally shot a lawman's horse when he was trying to aim for the guy. Please hug him.

It doesn't matter how drunk Charles is, he can still yeet anyone over Mount Hagen and he can go from fun and goofy to deathly intimidating in under 1.5 seconds.

And if you and Charles are dating then he just wants to kiss you. He kisses your temple all the way down to your jawline before kissing back up to your ear.

Dutch

Dutch gets quiet when he's drunk. He just kinda sits there and stares off in a daze for ten minutes. When someone talks to him, it's like he buffers for a few seconds before responding.

But when he starts talking, good luck trying to get Dutch to shut up. And this man needs everyone to stop what they're doing and give him all of their attention when he decides to say a speech. And if one person stops paying attention then Dutch storms off.

Dutch really does believe he's unstoppable when he's drunk. And if you don't believe him then don't worry, Dutch has no problem spending three hours explaining how all of his plans are apparently bulletproof.

If Dutch is sweet on you then he tries to flirt with you. But the more he drinks, the harder it gets for him to string a sentence together. "Your eyes..." he slurs his words but tries to stay composed "they remind me... of uh... eyes".

Micah

Micah is so goddamn laid back when he's drunk. Strangely people tend to get on with Micah when he's drunk but by the time he's sober again he's gone back to being... well, Micah.

He's nice ? Which is so bizarre but he actually makes an effort to talk to people without antagonising them and instead of taking offence to comments, he laughs them off and sees it as a joke.

As long as the conversation stays light, Micah keeps his happy demeanour and he isn't even a bad loser when it comes to poker and five finger fillet. In a way, seeing Micah so friendly unnerves some of the other gang members because of how baffling it is.

If he's sweet on you then Micah will continuously asks if you'd like to sit on his lap. Of course he flirts with you but he's a lot sweeter than normal and tells you that you could definitely do better than him so he understands if you reject him.

John

John comes out of his shell when he's drunk. Instead of keeping his mouth shut, he says whatever he thinks of. Yeah he gets into more fights cause he doesn't know when to stop talking.

He can fall asleep anywhere and at any time. You could be chatting with him by the campfire and slowly feel him lean against your shoulder as he starts to softly snore. He once fell asleep while standing up right with one of his hands on a barrel for support.

When John tries to go to sleep when he's drunk, he's like a kid trying to go to sleep at a sleepover. John loudly says the most random words and makes random noises before he bursts out laughing, thinking it's the funniest thing in the world.

If John has a crush on you and he's drunk, he tries to be so helpful. He constantly asks you if you need anything. If you ask him to get you something then he walks a few feet away before completely forgetting what you asked for.

Bill

Let's be real, Bill's already a hothead when he's sober and he's exactly the same when he's drunk. He's very fast to start a fight but if someone lands one punch then that's Bill done for the night. Usually he's a better fighter but he has terrible balance when he's been drinking.

He tries to be productive when he's drunk, thinking that now's the perfect time to do some chores and to go on guard duty. Everyone knows better than to leave Bill go out on watch when he's like this. One time he tried to shoot a squirrel cause he thought it was going to run into camp.

Bill rambles a lot too, mainly telling stories from when he was in the army or reminiscing about different robberies he's done with the gang.

Bill can get really anxious so if y'all are in a relationship, he needs your comfort. His mind starts racing and he worries about little things so for you to be there and tell him everything is alright truly means a lot to him.

Javier

Javier gets very goofy when he's drunk. He's keeps things light hearted, joking about things but is still able to hold his tongue when needed and have proper conversations too.

Honestly, Javier is probably one of the most level headed people in comparison to the rest of the gang but because he tends to stumble and get his words mixed up, people presume he's completely wasted when he's had a few to drink.

This man LIVES for those 2am deep and meaningful conversations. He absolutely adores having them and being drunk helps him open up more about his feelings so he has no problem expressing his emotions.

Are you ready to be swept off of your feet, both metaphorically and maybe literally depending on if you'll leave Javier do that? He's such a hopeless romantic when he's drunk. If camp is near a field or woodland then he sneaks off, picks some flowers and shyly gives them to you.

Sean

Sean manages to go through every mood when he's drunk. Everything is funny to him and he tries to make jokes about whatever comes to mind. Usually he jokes about Bill and Micah which leads to one of them arguing with Sean.

That's when Sean gets angry and thinks he's able to knock out anyone with one punch. Normally he ends up accidentally walking into a table or tripping over himself cause of how focused he is at punching the air.

Then Sean gets all sad and sentimental, feeling sorry for himself cause he accidentally bruised his leg. He has no problem sitting on the ground and pouting for a while, hoping that someone will walk past and give him some attention for a while.

If y'all are dating then Sean will tell you over and over again how much you mean to him and how much he loves you. He just wants to cling on to you for the night and make sure you know how loved you are.

Hosea

I hope you're sitting comfortably cause Hosea's gonna tell you every single goddamn story he can think of. Hosea tells you funny stories, sad stories, how he first met John and how he conned rich people. He really likes to reminisce when he's drunk.

Towards the end of the night, Hosea eventually gets quiet and if there's a party at camp where everyone is celebrating, then he goes off by the outskirts for a while.

Hosea likes to sit back and watch as everyone enjoys the night. He can get very sentimental when he does this but he likes to enjoy the little moments of the night and savour it all.

If he’s sweet on you then Hosea makes sure you know how special you are and that you deserve the best. He doesn't necessarily flirt with you but instead wants you to know how great you are.

Sadie

When Sadie drinks, she gets sad. She doesn't mean to get sad but her mind wanders and she thinks a lot about everything that's happened in her life and how she's ended up where she is today.

She doesn't speak a lot and ends up getting stuck in her head with thoughts whirling around and around. It can get overwhelming which is why she isn't that keen on getting completely wasted on alcohol.

She doesn't like how crowded camp can get so instead she likes to go off and find a nice scenic area to rest. Normally that helps calm her mind but Sadie also gets sleepy by then too.

If Sadie likes you and feels comfortable around you then she leans against you as ye both sit there in a peaceful silence. And if you suggest it, then she'll hesitantly rest her head on your lap and fall asleep as you play with her hair.

Kieran

Kieran doesn't get drunk often. He hates waking up the next morning and wondering if he pissed anyone off or said something he shouldn't have.

He's very happy when he's drunk, only seeing the positives in things and always smiling. Kieran is still a little shy but he's more open to being involved with what the gang's doing, whether that be singing along to some songs or dancing with whoever to Dutch's gramophone.

Because of how involved he can become with the gang when he's drunk, he can get involved in a few fights or arguments. But contrary to popular belief, Kieran doesn't back down and makes sure to get his points across.

Kieran gets more confident after a few drinks and flirts with you more than usual. The more accepting you are to his comments, the more he flirts with you. Though if you flirt back then he gets very flustered.

#ayo idk why these are so fuckin long #I tried cutting them down #but they’re still long #so apologies for how goddamn long these are #anywhoosies #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #micah bell #charles smith #john marston #javier escuella #bill williamson #sean macguire #hosea matthews #sadie adler #kieran duffy #idk why I decided to add Kieran in here too lol

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razmerry · 4 years

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Drawtectives: Orc Lore

So in honor of S1 of Drawtectives almost being over, I decided to rewatch all the episodes and compile all the “orc lore” Jacob spills, because it is delightful. I know people have suggested doing this but I haven’t seen anyone actually compile it all, so I’m sorry if you already have and I missed it. Also there were some things I left out because they felt more like just a joke, or weren’t important enough, or too non-specific. Some of the lore is contradictory but it’s so impressive for improv worldbuilding. Anyways! Enough of that. Read on:

Part 2

Episode 1:

- York is orc on his father’s side, human on his mother’s

- His father is the tribe’s leader

- “Humans are kind of like pets to me”

- “I don’t know anything either, but I’m basically unkillable” - just a good York summary

- Has a case he keeps bones in

- Murder is a normal thing at orc parties

- The bone economy is introduced

Episode 2:

- York cannot write (does not understand the process of writing?)

- Orcs heal sickness by violently shaking the afflicted

- York is pretty good at mental math

Episode 3:

- Common misconception; York can read, just in the “orc runes”, not English

- Does not know what dollars are

- The bone economy is expanded upon; dragon bones are very valuable

- In orc culture you are polite to people who can kill you; rudeness is reserved for those you feel comfortable around

- York only learned about “motives” recently

- York is unaware of what jokes are

- He has never cried before?

- Food is eaten raw and possibly still alive

- In the bone economy, “candle bones” are worth 5 turtle bones, turtle bones are worth 5 rat bones, and a rat bone is worth 5 bug bones (bug bones are being phased out as a currency)

- Northern bugs do have bones

- Things that are the best to eat are the hardest to kill

- York’s hairstyle is popular, because he forced others to adopt it

Episode 4:

- “I’m about to humor your boy out the window” is just a very good quote

- York has trained warhounds before

- Wild trains live in wild train country. They cannot be slain or tamed, and are incredibly fast. It is the only thing York is terrified of

- Orcs cannot refuse an invitation; half-orcs must give a tentative maybe

- Wild trains are a serious threat to York’s tribe

- York has “bad blood” with the Wild Lands

- Bikes are used to escape wild trains

Episode 5:

- Only one channel on TV is received in the Northern Tribes; orcish soap operas are most common - “Tusks of Our Lives”, “Maul My Children”, “One Fight to Live” (which has 37 seasons)

- Only one band in the Northern Tribes; Birds of Prey

- York is unaware bands other than that one existed

- York does not know what a camera is

- Also does not know how TV works (”little people inside the box”)

- Cannot recognize his own face in a photo

- Only lemons grow/are sold in the Northern Tribes

- York had a “yellow-slick toad” named Tammy as a child; previous crying point disproven as he cried at least 15 minutes when it died

- Wild trains are also called “ground planes” sometimes

- York has murdered his brother in an “unrightful claim to the throne” and “blood feud”

- He is apparently an orc prince; this does line up with the lore about him being the tribe leader’s son

- (Non-orc worldbuilding: boker, billiards, Grendan Fury, Go Bish)

Episode 6: (the piss episode)

- Orcs… do both at once, as it were

- He doesn’t wipe………

- “Pee is compliment, blood is insult”

- Class discourse is an important discussion in orcish culture

- Mirrors do not exist in the Northern Tribes

- Northern cats are apparently eight feet long and eight feet tall, roughly cuboid, and kept as battle cats

- “Northern hill squirrel”

Episode 7:

- Orcs are strongly anti-tobacco; instead they do mushrooms

- YORKY SNACKS

- York once held onto an antelope for two weeks

- “It takes five pickles to hold a potata” - common orcish childhood quote

- Fuzzy potatoes are a crop in the Northern Tribes; they are hard to perceive, and if you don’t put on your “pickle glove” before you hold one things will get real weird

- York does possess the ability to write both “eat my butt” and “wow now thatsa potata”

Episode 8:

- Orcs have two stomachs, requiring more food to fill them; they don’t need to eat for two days after the stomachs are full

- He “empties both stomachs at once”

- York has been in many knife fights

- Expansion on wild trains: they can be killed, evidently, but only if you sneak up and attack their engine compartment while they’re sleeping, if confronted you must lure them into a false sense of security. Wild trains do know when they are being depicted in art and can sense it, will attack (?)

- Whatever leg wrestling is about

- Apparently once York killed a rhino by fanning his hand but I’m not sure if that was real or just to push Emery’s buttons

- “Is he doin slammer on me” - I just really like that

- Orcs are only babies for a couple hours

- YORK FEET PICS

- Possibly non-canonical but Jacob said York is on his Rumspringa and that is very funny

Episode 9:

- Non-orc actors and programs are being shown on orc TV?

- Orcs do not have dimples

- Old actors are called “road dogs” in the Northern Tribes

Episode 10:

- Ghosts exist in this world, but not in the Northern Tribes (“when people die, they die hard”)

- Reconfirmed: York is good at math

- Spilled milk is cried over in the North (it will make York cry)

- Has no pockets

(Updating:)

Episode 11:

- Not much but it’s a big one:

Orcish elders have knowledge of Julia (and her artistic decisions)

One-Shot Stream:

- Orcs “feel time differently” - described as being like dog years (1 day feel like 3 days)

- Semi-related: orcs believe that people are never coming back when they leave and are surprised when they do

- York believed only murder was a crime

- Dogs love York

- York does not know what his birthday is

- After a birth in the Northern tribes, people “take a stick and scratch in the mud” the words ‘He was born’ so others know

- He doesn’t know what glass is?

- “Faster than you can shake a leaf at a twig”

#drawtectives #drawfee #drawtectives york #gyorik rogdul #rose #grendan highforge #rpg #murder at cresent hill #orc lore

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redux-iterum · 3 years

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History of the Clans

There are two versions of the story of how all things began. The one the Clans know deals in monsters and magic, and a rose-tinted idea of the importance of warriors and the feline people in general. The one told here is from the collective knowledge of scholars, and is much closer to the truth.

Once upon a time, there was a seemingly never-ending forest, and it was home to thousands of animals - badgers, foxes, stoats, owls, and best of all, an uncountable amount of prey to feed those animals. No one hungered or wanted for land to call their own. The forest brought in curious visitors every day, who had heard tales of this land of plenty and had come to see if the stories were true.

Among them were the cats, a very foreign creature that the others had not seen before. Cats are remarkable at taking over an area and exploding in numbers before anyone has a chance to blink, and these ones did not disappoint in that aspect. They quickly took up the remaining available space and settled in to hunt and sleep to their heart’s content.

But they did not come from nowhere, as the rest of the predators had assumed. They had been brought in by humans, who were even more alien than the cats, and who were on their way after their escapee pets. With humans came a drastic upheaval - the forest was cut down to a quarter of its original size just as fast as the cats had made themselves comfortable; the once wooded slope to the west had a structure built near it and the ground was torn up for planting strange grass; the east was taken over by glass and brick from the humans; and finally, a straight, wide path, stinking of something foreign and dangerous, cut the area apart, splitting the high stones in the west and the growing wetlands in the north from the hills and what remained of the forest.

This unprecedented shrinking of territory left many animals without a home, or in defense of the little they had left. Friend turned on friend, family forgotten. Quickly, a free-for-all broke out, leading to many predators dead or severely injured and fleeing for their life from the forest. The cats proved themselves adaptable to any situation - the entire community banded together and, as a team, drove out the rest of the predators, sending them in every direction but the east and properly taking the forest for themselves.

The victory was short-lived as a new problem presented itself: everyone had lingered as long as there was food to eat before escaping. Mice, squirrels, birds, rabbits - there were barely any of them left. It wasn’t helped by the cats having a tendency to overhunt when there was nothing else to do. The unity once present dissolved as territories began to overlap and cats attacked each other for pathetic morsels that could be swallowed whole. The few kittypets living with humans had even their terrible food stolen, with some cats deserting the forest to wander the developing streets, hoping for charity. The prey population continued to shrink and some turned to even more desperate, much darker sources of food.

Things got even worse when a crew of pilgrims arrived, late to the party and unaware of how bad the forest had gotten. Natives immediately bullied them away from their scant reserves. With nowhere else to go, the pilgrims huddled on the other side of the river on the edge of the forest and prayed for help.

Then she arrived.

To this day, no one knows where the old molly known only as the Crone came from. She seemed to appear from the mist to inspect the forest, sniff disdainfully, and call together a sizeable cluster of cats before leading them away to the hills, where some of the human grass had gotten loose and taken over the moor.

The decrease in population helped reserve the dwindling resources a bit, and cats temporarily forgot their battles to watch curiously as the new colony in the west found a place to settle at the top of the hills and thrive on the influx of prey that came from the farmland, which had receded its grip on the moor and left it free to hunt on. Several cats discussed leaving the forest to request sanctuary with this colony. Others turned their eyes across the human’s path (that was slowly turning into stinking black stone), where the wetlands were settling into a proper marsh. The pilgrims’ scant territory was growing grass, bringing in some animals to hunt.

Before any action could be taken on its own, the Crone reappeared in the forest and called together the residents. She announced that her test run of creating a colony had gone successfully, and now she was ready to help the rest of the scattered cats create their own groups, organize a hunting system, and allow their land to restore itself to something one could comfortably live in. This, she said, would ensure an era of peace for everyone, and if any were interested, they could come with her to be trained as leaders to complete her mission.

Four cats volunteered: Brawn, a huge, powerful tom that had fought and won many battles in exchange for prey; Ripple, a stray from far off that had fallen in with the pilgrims; Dewdrop, a former kittypet who had been cast out from her home and was desperate for security; and Clear Sky, a pilgrim that was ambitious and eager to join the project. The Crone took all four of them and left for the hills again without another word, except an order to limit the hunting in the forest. This was obeyed, since there wasn’t enough prey to hunt normally anyway.

Before too long, the four cats returned and began to gather cats. Brawn called for those that he considered allies of himself or his friends, which were mostly those he had fought together with before, giving him the strongest fighters, and claimed the forest for his colony. Ripple had his pilgrims already, and they stayed south, on the far side of the river. Those that had been cast away or were weak or distrusted were taken in by Dewdrop, who brought them to the marshes so that they were far enough away to not cause problems with the other colonies. The rest who did not fit in anywhere else or were loners looking to have a proper home again followed Clear Sky to the outlier part of the land, touching only the corner of the forest and river territories. The Crone brought in no one else except one stray pilgrim called Grey Wing as her new second-in-command, a position she called “deputy”. The other leaders followed suit by appointing deputies for their own, carefully chosen to contrast their superiors and speak as the voice of the rest of the colonies.

With this, the leaders exercised what the Crone had taught them: in an unheard of move, hunting was organized and scheduled, with acceptable hunting areas changed day-to-day and prey of the day altering depending on what had the most numbers at the time. Borders were laid out so that no one accidentally took from another colony and reduced their number of prey. The most amazing of these decisions came from the pilgrims, who Ripple taught to hunt in the water - because no one had dared to jump in the deeper parts or even really fish at all, there was plenty of prey for the pilgrims, leading to no source of conflict with anyone else. The other colonies slowly began to prosper over time as less cats shared more prey with their communities. The exception was Clear Sky’s colony, which he proved to be a poor leader of and was eventually driven out before the colony disbanded and either joined up with the others or left for other areas.

With the unusual, regimented structure, there came a very faint sense of ranks within the colonies: the leader, the deputy, and queens, with the average member not belonging to any of these and being unnamed in their position. Queens were given special treatment and their own dens to have their children, and they had prey delivered to them while they raised the next generation.

As time went on and the colonies grew strong, healthy and well-fed, their members’ confidence were boosted. Old grudges resurfaced and the borders that were put in place to help hunting became places to defend or skirmish to settle arguments. Fights broke out, even with the leaders attempting to resolve disputes peacefully. Worse, these fights escalated as more cats joined their new friends to defend their pride or help with revenge. Things got worse and more vicious, until several very young cats got caught in a large battle they had nothing to do with and were killed.

This was the breaking point. Queens across the territories campaigned for a law to be set in place for the protection of their kits, while the more peaceful members encouraged rules of their own to prevent these unnecessary fights. The leaders got together and devised a burgeoning code that every cat was expected to follow if they wanted to stay in their home.

The first of these was making a new rank for cats that were too young to be acceptably attacked, with a suffix to their name, -kit, which was taken away once they were older. These cats were under six months old, and were absolutely forbidden to be hurt or killed. Those that aged out of it were still in danger, until Brawn’s deputy, Ember, started teaching them to hunt and fight to protect themselves. The rest of the colonies, now under the name of “Clans”, immediately borrowed this idea. Soon after came the next rank of apprentice, and the suffix of -kit was changed to -paw.

At the time, suffixes were reserved for the young, but the leader of the river Clan, now called River Ripple to give respect to his territory, took his group’s original two-part naming system and awarded apprentices for making it to adulthood with their own individual suffixes. This, too, very quickly became popular with everyone else.

More changes were made over time - elder as a rank being added, religion and seers blossoming into things of great value, more additions to the code, the Clans being properly named, and so on - but these came to be more gradually. For now, at least, the wild and fast alteration of the forest from a place of chaos and disorder to a variety of territories with law-abiding Clans had been completed. From there, things have only gotten better.

#warrior cats #warriors redux iterum #iterum #history #long post #readmore #lore #worldbuilding

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godofsexdrugsandrocknroll · 3 years

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Kali took Blake's hentai out of her room and is now openly watching it in the living room, with Blake and other people still in the house.

The point where Kali should feel ashamed of what she’d done? Come and past - probably right around the time that the animated wolf faunus with the light gray hair, gray wolf ears and large, equally light gray eyes tried to speak around the length of cock pistoning in her mouth with little regard to the fact that this was the woman’s mouth and not, in fact, the pussy, that the human male was pounding relentlessly with spit flying everywhere.

“Iff shfo glurff muffar!” Indeed.

But truly, who could blame her? After years of dealing with her daughters absence, suddenly having Blake willing to live with them was a new experience and one she probably wasn’t dealing the best with. After all, most mothers wouldn’t dream of snooping the way she did. But for all that Blake Belladonna, one of the eight 24 year old “Heroes of Remnant”, inspired awe and hope in the people of Remnant and even more in the faunus community, well...Kali remembered the little girl who’d once seen a package of fruit snacks with red gummy fish, promptly ripped it open and devoured the bag before rolling on the floor, spitting chunks of the fruity treat while disgustedly proclaiming “cherry flavored!” over and over again.

Charismatic, impassioned leader of the Faunus Civil Rights Coalition or not, there was a distance between mother and daughter created by the latter’s 12 year absence in her mothers life.

They tried of course, but Blake was used to her freedom and Kali was a creature of habit, perpetually uncaring of what many called “the line” but still desperately trying to reconnect with her daughter.

So the fact that Kali scoped out the usual spots for teenage contraband when she cleaned her daughters room really shouldn’t come as a surprise. Ghira certainly hadn’t been when Kali had, giggly as she approached, revealed the contents of a lock box Blake hid under piles of increasingly tiny and intricate undergarments. Granted it was just old photos of them together, a cheap plastic ring with a cartoonish lion heard stretching down to the knuckle and pieces of fabric that smelled of the two of them rather than anything else, but it was the thought that mattered.

She of course neglected to mention to Ghira where she had found it, amidst of a sea of panties, thongs and even a g-string or two. Where she was curious, Ghira would have been ill.

So she’d kept snooping, impressed not just at the collection of underthings her daughter owned (and very amused that her own predilection for the sexier, the better had been passed onto Blake), but at the false bottom that had been discovered and...well, novelty might be the right word for things like the crotchless panties she found there.

Then she’d found other things. A collection of muscle magazines hidden carefully behind a dresser that had seen use judging by the crinkled paper, but not recently given the finger shaped spots on the otherwise dusty covers. Lube carefully stacked behind her books.

A chest full of devices, from dildos to wands to toys and more than a few strap ons. And while Kali was surprised at the amount, she was less so when she remembered that her daughter was in a relationship with a rather...well, the polite term would be ‘generously well endowed’ blonde who was openly vulgar about what the two of them got up to behind doors; when it was just Yang (said blonde) and Blake, in what they thought was the privacy of an empty room.

The collection of nearly three dozen cases advertising Mistralian hentai hidden in a crawl space however had thrown Kali for a loop. And, well, you know what they say about curiosity and cats.

And so Kali stared wide eyed at the covers depicting cutesy anime girls, most of them faunus, in various poses and stages of undress. There was Faunus Fuck Frenzy, vol. 32 - where apparently three faunus best friends were captured in a jungle and fucked into full blown ahegao faces by tribal looking, human natives if the cover was anything to go by.

Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku - a dog faunus with short brown hair, floppy bloodhound ears and breasts the size of beach balls in nothing but a pair of spandex shorts and biceps, abs that were intimidating in their intensity...but was covered forehead to navel in semen, the bodies of unconscious teenage boys and their cocks of varying size left defeated on the ground in the cover’s background.

Others, too. One where the blue haired bluebird faunus was a loli and surrounded by leering men. Another where a golden haired, golden eyed snake faunus had her faunus feature, her exceptionally long forked tongue, wrapped around a penis that was closer to the size of arm and was bulging with veins with her curvaceous body on all fours. A bushy tailed squirrel faunus bound, gagged in a contortionist’s nightmare with the shadow of a grinning man behind her.

By the time Kali saw it - it being what she was watching now, a lonely single faunus mother checking out a sex club while her children were being babysat - it was too late. Blake had arrived with her girlfriend Yang, Kali’s personal assistant, the ex-terrorist Ilia, Yang’s sister Ruby and her not-a-boyfriend Oscar Pine and the blonde, suit clad boyfriend of the Schnee heiress, Jaune Arc.

So Kali had used the kind of speed that made her a popular choice for stealth missions back when she was in the White Fang and put every single case back in the crawlspace and had all but teleported into the living room, smiling and nodding as Blake mentioned that the group was going to go discuss something-something-faunus-something-something-SDC-something-something-if-you’d-make-us-some-dinner-that-would-be-lovely-thank-you-love-you-bye.

Kali’s breathing had returned to normal even if her heart still pounded and she’d pulled Amongst Sheep from behind her back and stared at the lonely MILF, stunned at her daughter’s kinkiness. There’d been exactly 41 films in the crawlspace and aside from the muscular bloodhound faunus who’d apparently fucked her way through at least 11 different teenage boys to claim some sort of victory, each and every cover seemed to depict faunus getting dicked down by human males. Or the occasional female, sometimes simply female and other times with a dick dangling between their thighs. The faunus in question seemed to love it and almost seemed subservient to the ones doing the fucking.

While Kali was amused at her daughters apparent kink especially in light of her place as a faunus rights spokeswoman of great fame, there was a much larger problem. Staring at them all had made her unquestionably horny to the point of wetness. But Blake, her girlfriend and her friends were home. Ghira was in the kitchen just two rooms away, making a large meal for their guests happily after she asked him to do so. There were workers in the back of the house, rebuilding their back wall after Ghira had hip tossed an assassin of the rapidly dwindling White Fang remnants through it last week.

A reasonable, sane woman would have hid it and enjoyed it in the privacy of her own room later that night. Maybe give Ghira a ride while she watched it after convincing him she rented it over the scrollnet for added fun. But the idea of watching it in her living room, a living room that was open to all of the house with no doors, her husband far enough away to know she was watching something but not what and her daughter, her friends only a single floor up? With her room right above the living room?

The disc was in, Kali’s legs were spread after removing her hakama and her modest breasts were exposed to the warm air, her fingers immediately tracing her slick folds.

The plot had gone from 0 to 60 in what seemed like record time (but was probably only 20 minutes or so), the mother surrounded by horny human men while her fellow faunus were in various poses of submission. The mother partaking in the orgy and rapidly spiraling from a stereotypically sweet woman with the kind of body only art could give, to a sex crazed lunatic thanking her “master” for fucking her mouth even as her makeup ran, her dump truck of a rear was being molested by a faceless human behind her and her gargantuan tits bounced from the force of the careless facefucking all while she squealed, even as the humans made crude and rather disparaging remarks about faunus women.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] Enjoying yourself, dear?

Kali’s breath hitched as her fingers pushed in deep and she grinned, curling them as a jolt ran up her spine as the wolf faunus - Lupa, she remembered - squealed once more, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunks at the deluge of jizz firing impossibly from the human.

Kali: Oh of course, darling! There’s a program about human-faunus interactions that’s just fascinating!

She heard no response but could practically hear her husbands indulgent chuckle. As Lupa now hoarsely begged for the man who’d been fucking her mouth to “shut his stupid dog right back up!” the floor creaked and someone moved around a bit. Kali bit her lip, eyes catching the closed window and the worker carrying tools by. Her left hand had since been massaging her right tit for some time now and she tweaked the brownish nipple on her olive skinned titty, moaning harshly as Lupa suddenly screeched! The man who’d been squeezing her cheeks had pushed her face down into a puddle of spit and spunk and forced himself in an ass that not even she could compete with! She watched as the warbling moans of the anime MILF grew in intensity.

Kali: [Sputtering] And now we’re even getting to see a faunus tribe and how they survived in the Grimmlands!

Ghira: [From the kitchen] That’s nice dear.

Kali: So nice! Really Ghira, you would not believe some of their customs!

Or her own, at this point throwing any concern of being caught out of her mind. The floor had creaked as if someone had tossed themselves on Blake’s bed, likely Blake herself after hashing out a particularly tough point. The thought of Ghira finding her was exciting, of her husband’s disbelief that she’d be so bold. One of the workers? Well, Ghira would likely punish her for giving them such a show but the idea of teasing them so cruelly, knowing that they would remember this for quite some time but never be able to do more than furiously jack their cocks off to the memory of it and just how hard Ghira would give it to her, pushing her face in a pillow as he flattened her exceptional cheeks with his angry downstrokes. Blake and her friends? As a third finger entered her lightly squelching pussy - as Lupa followed an order and lapped up at the puddle as her nearly yoga ball sized cheeks rippled in constant motion - and her palm started slapping against her clit, she squealed at the sudden increase in pleasure.

Blake would be beyond humiliated. At her shameless mother, at her own filthy little secret being discovered by anyone other than perhaps Yang. Not to mention that both Oscar and Jaune would commit this site to their memory banks, perhaps even as their flush faced friends lambasted them for their obvious erections!

The floor creaked more, as if they were moving and Kali twisted her nipple, watching as the MILF on screen started wailing from the anal assault, the man having both hands in her grey hair and pulling her head back. As the animation gave way to the light grey eyes rolling towards her nose as her tongue flopped out, Lupa’s face got steadily redder. In return Kali gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain coming from her right tit, using her left hand to awkwardly do the same to her left and moaning as a shadow passed the window behind their television.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] Dear? Is something wrong?

Kali couldn’t help it. The thought of being caught was too good, the knowledge that this was what her daughter liked - something so disrespectful, base and diametrically opposed to her own beliefs - and the way she was handling her own body made her let out a louder groan.

Lupa: [Television] “...myself that day, lost the woman who put her children first... to big. Fat. Yummy. Human. COCK!!!! AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!”

Kali: Oh no, Ghira! Just a quote from another bigot!

Kali’s fingers were now a blur, an eye on the window where no worker stood and an ear on her husbands response, the sound of a load of cum being pumped into an animated faunus whose face showed no signs of intellgence as a faceless human filled her anus with his release, squeezing each asscheek so aggressively he was clearly holding booty fat between his hands.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] You know how it is, freedom of speech. Is it at least handled...

She knew what he meant. Is the documentary at least attacking the negative opinion, showing how wrong it is?

Lupa: [Television] “--aaauuuuuwwwwsho good~” [giggling drunkenly]

She was close. Her heels clunked lightly against the table in front of her couch as she adjusted her legs, opening them wider as she now alternated between full thrusts and thumbing the clit, beneath her thick patch of black pubic hair. The scene changed several times, to Lupa’s ankles and wrists bound as a man pumped her full of cum. Another where a group of university aged humans were busily raining down an amount of cum only possible in hentai as Lupa serviced two cocks, one with her mouth and the other with her hand. A married couple sandwiching Lupa between them with Lupa’s cheeks being squished by the human taking her in doggy, excess ass fat bunching up as Lupa screamed into the man’s wife, her hairy human cunt. Another where Lupa sat on the counter of a sandwhich shop as an older, balding man stood between her legs as her eyes fluttered and the slick sound of her sex, of unexpected squirting. One final scene showing Lupa lying upon her shoulders, legs spread in a perfect split as a muscled man fucked down into her as she screamed “Master!” over and over.

To a final scene where a school bus pulled away and Lupa, in a white turtleneck and nothing more, leaned around a corner and had a warm, motherly smile on her face.

Kali: [Strained] Absolutely, Ghira!

Her palm made heavy clopping noises as she fingerblasted herself to that warm motherly smile staying in place...but only because it had frozen there, drool leaking from the corners of Lupa’s mouth as her eyes were all but rolled back in her skull as a random human steadily slammed into her from behind, the only sounds being the wolf’s cheeks clapping and the wet plap! of semen pouring from her currently-being-fucked pussy.

Human: [Television] Take it all, Ms. Lupa!

And then the abnornal sound of jizz being pumped into the drooling faunus and her dripping pussy, Lupa’s eyes gone pure white as they rolled back into her skull and an overlay of the action inside her happening; a sea of thick white swirling inside her and then a flash of light from an egg indicating pregnancy.

Between the two workers clearly arguing over tools outside their window but clearly not seeing her, being in conversation with Ghira and the threat of being found out, Kali felt it build.

Several things happened at once. Lupa showed up on the screen staring down at a human baby with brown hair and her eyes, before turning away smiling softly. She entered a room where an unfamiliar human sat on her bed, a member that nearly reached his own chest pointing towards the ceiling. Lupa dropped to all fours and fastened a chain to a black leather collar she was wearing, muttering “master” over and over again as she crawled forth.

Kali scraped three fingers against her g-spot and ground her palm against her clit and exploded in release.

Kali: No doubt, it’s marvelously done!

Her pitch considerably higher as she lost her fingers to the repeatedly clenching hole, knees shaking as her orgasm crashed through her like waves upon the beach.

Blake: [Shocked] Mo-ther! [Strangled] No Yang, don’t look!

Ruby: [Stammering] Y-y-y-you either, O-oscar!

Ilia: Why must the world be so cruel!?

Jaune: Mad that another hot cat faunus is taken?

Blake: [Squeals] Jaune!

Ilia: Yes!

Blake: [Squeaks] Ilia!

Yang: I mean, can you blame ‘em? I can see where you got it from, babe.

Blake: [Squeaks, chokes, growls] Stopitstopitstopit!

Jaune: [To Ilia] Same.

Blake: Butwhatno--NO! You have Weiss!

Jaune: Appreciating the view is not cheating.

Ruby: Yes it is!

Jaune: I am happy in my relationship with my fiancée. I will never cheat on my fiancée but I have no control over Blake’s mom fingerbanging herself to...whoa.

Yang: [To Blake] Heh, told you it was a bad idea to keep those here! Ooh, is that Amongst Sheep!? [Respectfully] She’s got good taste.

Oscar: Blake watches hentai?

Ruby: A-ack! Y-y-you saw!? Dammit Oscar!

Ilia: [Fumbling]

Blake: Wha-no-it’snot--

Kali breathed heavily, removing her digits from her pussy and feeling much better and with a glance at her sticky fingers, cleaned them with a quick schlup! of a noise.

Blake: AAAHH! Mother, no!

Kali: [Exhausted] Sorry sweetheart. But that collection of yours, oh my.

Jaune: [To Ruby] Okay, now I’m feeling a little guilty.

Ruby: You should!

Ilia: [Stops fumbling] Collection? She has more?

Blake: Moth--

Kali: Over forty.

Ilia: And they’re all... [gestures]

Kali: Except for one with a female dog faunus.

Yang: That’s mine. [Blake screeches in horror] Blake wanted me to ‘expand my horizons’ or something. I think Blakey just wanted me to be a perv too.

Oscar: Wait. Dog faunus? Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku with Tawni Bumpus as Rei-chan’s seiyuu?

Yang: Heh. Yeah, you’ve seen it?

Ruby: Wha--

Oscar: Have you seen Tawni Bumpus?

Jaune: And now I’m uncomfortable.

Yang: Chow-Chow faunus, right?

Oscar: Yup. She’s -- a-ah... [trails off in embarassment and fear for his life at Ruby’s glare]

Yang: [Snorts] Has an ass that makes the Bellabooty look like Weiss in comparison?

Jaune: [Eyes narrow] I’m letting her know you said that, top heavy.

Yang: [Flinches, irritated] I’m sending you a picture of her. She’s got cake for days, Arc.

Oscar: Well, a-ah, the point is Tawni is very p-pretty [panics] b-b-but not as pretty as Ruby and she really does have a captivating voice.

Jaune: [Staring squintily at Yang, speaks at Oscar] Riii~iight.

Blake: Alright, stop! No more talking about my porn!

Ruby: Ah, so the degenerate admits it!

Ilia: Huh. I mean I can see Yang, maybe. But Blake?

Yang: One, rude. Two, it’s a power dynamic thing. She doesn’t really want to be treated like an animal and collared by humans all the time, but sometimes she’s in the mood and I’ll put on the strap and the things that’llmmmphh!!!

Blake: [Hands on Yang’s mouth, panting, red faced] No. More.

Kali: [Covering her chest back up, crosses legs] Dear, it’s perfectly understandable. You’re a powerful young woman with not just skill unmatched in the sword but your Shadow Clones were key in your final battle with Salem! It’s perfectly understandable wanting to surrender yourself to a strong girl like Yang! You trust her and really, Lupa’s descent into a plaything was as masterfully done as it was--

Blake then ran away screaming, hands over her face and seconds later a door slammed. Yang winces.

Kali: Perhaps that was a bit too much for her.

Ruby: [Eyes narrowed] She just discovered her mom’s a superfreak.

Kali opened her mouth, saw that despite the time passed that both Oscar and Jaune were not looking directly at her and were both at full mast. Ilia was quietly cursing at her scroll phone, which the chameleon had been aiming in her direction prior to making herself decent. Clearly cursing her poor reaction time and missing a photo op.

Kali: Hmm. I suppose that might be a fair assessment.

Ruby: [Angles her body to hide Oscar’s boner] You got problems, lady.

Kali gave a nonchalant shrug, still feeling too good to give 100% to caring.

Jaune: [Claps hands] Well, not that this hasn’t been just a blast, but I think I should go tell Weiss exactly what happened here before somebody [glares at Ruby who glares back] texts her.

Yang: [Scratching her head, staring at the stairs] Heh, you just want Weiss to “punish” you. Never met a guy so ready for a girl standing five foot nothing to take him to poundtown in the Amazon position.

Jaune: [Reddens] Then clearly you have no idea how hot Weiss is when she’s mad.

Yang: [Blinks] Huh. All that time spent around Nora and me’s doing you good, Jaune.

Jaune said nothing and turned away. Oscar was trying to engage a depressed Ilia in conversation while avoiding Ruby’s death glare, the reaper herself irritated at her “not-a-boyfriend” being a pervert. Yang stood contemplating how to handle Blake and Kali just sighed, uncrossing her legs and wincing at the stickiness and the slight sound of it as she stood. As she clapped her hands lightly, intending to try and make this better, it happened. A platter of spaghetti and meatballs hit the floor.

Ghira: What in the garlic-oregano-noodley fuck is going on here!?

The room froze. Kali gave her husband a sheepish little smile, standing with her kimono top done up poorly and missing her hakama pants, shapely legs on display. Ilia had reaimed her phone at Kali’s legs even as Oscar had a hand up to block the view, his other over his stiffy. Yang’s mouth hung open in shock and Jaune had frozen, his own hands dropping to hide evidence of his own hard on. His daughter was conspicuously absent.

The most damning thing was the menu screen on the teleivsion, showing clips of Mistralian hentai that wasn’t exactly kind to faunus. Jaune spoke first.

Jaune: [Urgently] Yeet me out the house Xiao Long and I won’t tell Weiss about the crack you made on her ass!

A flash of white aura protecting the Arc occurred and Yang grabbed him by the arm and threw him through the wall. Ruby grabbed Oscar’s hand at the same time and the two disappeared into a swirl of roses out the same hole, a distant “ouch” being heard as they likely collided with Jaune. Yang was halfway up the stairs and Ilia stood frozen, scroll aimed at Kali’s legs. Ghira glared and Ilia eeped. She glanced at Kali who gave a smirk that was unapologetic and much to Ilia’s dismay, sexy.

Kali: It’s exactly what it looks like, darling. [Purrs] Is my big strong husband going to spank his naughty wife?

Ilia’s scream of terror was muffled as Ghira’s hand clasped around her face and then faded into the distance as she was chucked from the Belladonna household.

Jaune: [Barely audible] Dammit, stop running into me! Respect the healer!

Ilia: [Barely audible groaning]

Ghira: You will explain yourself, wife.

Kali: [Flutters eyelashes, purposely ignores him] Will you promise to spank me if I don’t?

Ghira growled, angry at the situation but knowing he’d get nothing out of her now and with a grunt, threw his laughing wife over his shoulder and stomped grumpily to his room. Really, he loved this woman to pieces but why did she find it so enjoyable to test his every last nerve!? He ignored the frantic sound of what sounded like his daughter opening her secound floor window and muttering something about “not again” and threw his smirking wife on the bed, growling as he ripped his armor, his clothing off.

On the ground floor, a rhino faunus and his crocodile faunus friend gaped at the hole in the front of the house.

Rhino Faunus: Oh, what in the actual shit is this!?

Crocodile Faunus: Rich people, man. Rich people.

#rwby #smut #kali belladonna #ghira belladonna #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #ruby rose #oscar pine #ilia amitola #jaune arc #this is what happens when you let a drunk type #what's crack-a-lackin'#idek #a christmas story

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grubloved · 4 years

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let's talk bird feeders!!!

there's actually so many options when it comes to giving a snack to ur feathery neighbors. some are harder, and some are easier, so picking one right for you & your neighborhood is totally possible and will make ur experience better!

it's always a good idea to sit down and do some research before deciding to put up a bird feeder. see who's in your area and what they like to eat! the National Audobon Society is a really good place to start.

i'll note here that all of my info is applicable to the USA -- if you live elsewhere and have good resources, please send them my way!

let's get into it!

1-3: low effort bird feeders

pinecone (1) & treat bell (2) feeders are the lowest effort option because they're single-use! with a pinecone you roll it in peanut butter and seeds yourself, and the birds clean it off. emptied pinecones can be stacked in a corner of the yard for a little tiny bug habitat! with a treat bell, the birds will just eat it till it's gone. pretty cool! these are a great option if you don't have the time or spoons for regular cleaning and refilling. they are also pretty popular with nearly any kind of bird -- mine have been favorites of the nuthatch and woodpeckers, but the finches and other seed-eaters in my area will also give them a go.

suet feeders (3) are the simplest refillable feeder, usually consisting of just a wire cage to place a suet cake in! suet is available in blocks and lasts a good while, and is high in fat so it's a really good wintertime snack! woodpeckers and other creeping birds really like these, but other birds will check them out, too. maintenance-wise, you will want to take it down and give it a good scrub once a month! it's just a wire cage though so it's not too hard.

4-6: standard bird feeders

platform feeders (4) are a fun one. they are just a platform, with raised sides to keep seed in and a mesh bottom to let water drain. these can attract birds of all sizes, and if low to the ground can even get some rarer friends, like quail! however, the exposed seed means these guys need EXCELLENT drainage. if water collects in the feeder, things will get nasty. check on it every couple days and make sure to remove seed shells and waste when you refill it! and give it the standard once a month deep clean.

hopper feeders (5) are a nice all-around option. with a little hopper to store seed and a small platform for it to roll out onto, they offer the protected seed of a tube feeder, but a larger perching area, so you can attract bigger birds and smaller ones! however, make sure the lid is secure-- if the seed inside the hopper gets wet, things can get Very weird very fast, especially in warm wet climates. keep an eye on it! clean out old seed when refilling, and give it the standard once a month scrub.

tube feeders (6) are probably the most common kind of bird feeder where i am! just a little tube with perches on the outside. they are the easiest of these three to keep clean when it comes to seed, since it's all safely away in a sealed container. they're also the easiest feeder to squirrel-proof! however, their smaller perches mean they're best suited for small to medium birds, not big ones. keep an eye on it and make sure the lid is secure -- like the hopper feeder, water inside the tube itself is bad news. empty out old seeds when refilling and give it a good scrub once a month!

(7-11) specialist bird feeders

nectar feeders (7) are usually designed just for hummingbirds, but if they're big enough, other nectar-loving birds like orioles will pay them a visit! they consist of a nectar reservoir and little openings at which to access it, usually flower-shaped. these probably require the most maintenance of any bird feeder, because sugar water is a really good medium for lots of nasty things to grow, ESPECIALLY in warm climates. take it down, empty it out, and clean it thoroughly at least every two days. if this is too hard, consider planting some flowers for your hummers to visit instead! a nasty hummingbird feeder will do more harm than good. these feeders will also attract non-avian nectar lovers, like ants, bees, and butterflies, so keep that in mind too!

mealworm feeders (8) are an unusual one, designed to attract birds who almost never show up at feeders like thrushes, bluebirds, and kinglets! these are often just a cup with some way to hang it. you can use dried or live mealworms. you'll need to refill these more often, as they're usually lower capacity (mealworms can get gross if left in there for too long). otherwise, treat this like a standard feeder and give it a good monthly scrub.

njyer seed feeders (9) are designed for small-beaked finches, mainly goldfinches, but also pine siskins and lesser goldfinches! these are usually a sort of mesh sock filled with tiny seeds. you CAN refill these once they're empty, but it's kind of hard, so many people just treat them as a single-use thing. if you're refilling it, make sure to take it down and wash it, then dry it completely before adding new seed!

fruit feeders (10) are another high-maintenance feeder, designed for fruit-loving birds like orioles, cardinals, and waxwings. you can offer berries, or cut up fruit like apples, or lay out halves of oranges! because you're putting out fresh fruit, you will want to swap it out at least every other day, and really watch out for mold. keep it clean and free from nasty buildup, and give it a good scrubbing every couple weeks.

peanut feeders (11) are the last one on our list! fill it with whole, unshelled peanuts, and you'll get BIG birds like jays, crows & woodpeckers! a feeder for in-shell peanuts is honestly optional and you can have roughly the same effect by just laying out a couple whole peanuts somewhere where your friends can see them! but the feeders look cool and can also be used to offer nesting material in the spring or suet balls in the winter. treat these like standard -- look for anything nasty, and give them a good monthly cleaning.

that's it for my list! i hope this has been helpful. good luck with your birds!!!!! <3 <3

#bird feeder #this post i had to rewrite like four times #maybe someday ill do one on seed types too fkejfkrjf theres so Much #birdes bird cafe #backyarding #wildlife

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oddsnendsfanfics · 4 years

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The (Mis)Adventures of Kal and Moose - Puppy Love?

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader Warnings: Fluffy Summer Fun Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Kal and Moose seem to be popular, what can I say?

Henry Cavill Master List

“Oscar, can you not torment Kal?”

“I'm not tormenting him,” the boy pouted, attempting to push the dog away. “He keeps sitting on me, Uncle Henry.”

“Kal, stop sitting on Oscar.” Henry scolded the big black and white Akita.

Henry swore he could see Kal roll his eyes, but did as he was asked and climbed off of Henry's nephew. Kal yawned and laid on the bed in the corner, like a “good dog”, another eye roll. Please, this was his domain. Nobody moved him from his spot on the couch, except for maybe Moose. Even then, they would compromise and Moose would lie across the humans.

Closing his eyes, Kal sighed, listening to his human and the two tiny humans playing another video game. They had spent a part of the day outside in the garden yesterday. This morning they went for Kal's regulation walkie, and now they were in the house – again. Kal huffed and yawned. He wished Moose was there, they could bounce around the garden chasing squirrels, cats, and scare the tiny humans with their loud but harmless boofings.

Sprawled out on the “dog bed” Kal whimpered in his sleep. Oblivious to the fact he had company. Dancing around Kal with more energy than he knew what to do with, Moose nosed the big dog and yelped at him. Kal sniffled and boofed in his sleep. Henry laughed watching Kal completely ignore his best friend.

“He's pretty wrecked,” Henry explained with a casual shrug.

“Kids do that to ya.” You laugh, calling Moose back to you. “How was last night?”

“Good, they slept well. Aiden was up in the night, he crawled in with me, and went back to sleep. Thankfully.” A soft chuckle, Henry looked over his shoulder at his nephews playing the video game that he had set up. “They're glued to that thing.”

“Ah, like their uncle.” You tease, nudging him in the side. “Why don't we wake sleeping beauty and head for the park? Moose could use a nice, long run. He's been inside all day. I had Alfie this morning, he had an appointment so no dogs allowed.”

Henry snorted. “You're welcome to try and pry them away.”

His brother and sister in law had left the 10 and 6 years old with their uncle for the weekend, it was their anniversary and Henry wasn't doing anything. He had gallantly offered to take his nephews, they arrived Thursday morning and would be leaving around mid day Sunday. How hard could it be? His sister in law had told him not to let them spend the entire weekend in front of a screen.

Easier said than done. He'd had them for 24 hours and the majority of their time, they weren't happy unless they were stuck in front of a game. Henry couldn't blame them, it was an activity the three of them were equally matched at, and they all enjoyed.

“Hey guys,” You call cheerfully, walking into the room. “What's going on?”

You had met Oscar and Aiden before, although you weren't overly familiar with the two boys, you hoped they had remembered you.

At they very least, they would likely remember Moose. He had been the unexpected star of the show, stealing the tray of sausages from the grill allowing himself and Kal to a fine meal. He then proceeded to vomit on the lawn where one of the other nephews managed to step and slip in it. Henry had assured you that it wasn't a big deal. Right, because it wasn't him having to face the shame or clean vomit off of his dog.

“Playing a game,” Aiden answered dropping his controller and turning to you. “Would you like to play? Uncle Henry said it's okay for kids.”

“I'm sure it is, but I don't want to play. Thanks.” You smile, rubbing Moose's back. He stands beside you sniffing the small human.

Kal is awake, stretching and wagging his tail. Moose is here and the fun is never far.

“Okay.” Aiden shrugs turning back to the game.

“Oscar, don't be rude.” Henry scolds from his spot holding up the door frame with his body.

“Oh, hey.” Oscar turns briefly to greet you.

“So, how many more levels to this game?”

“Seven.” Oscar's eyes never leave the screen.

“Ah. Well, I guess you're probably going to play those then. Sorry, Hen, looks like you and Kal are here all day.” You begin to talk, making no sense whatsoever to Henry.

“Wh-I don't.” Henry begins, when you wink at him. Indicating for him to follow the lead. “I guess we are. Too bad.”

Aiden's attention was now piqued. Ah yes, the little ones always caved first. Standing up and walking to his uncle, Aiden hangs onto Henry's hand for a second before whispering to him.

“What were we going to do?” Henry asks out loud. Kal prances and Moose begins to wiggle around as well. Aiden nods.

“I came over to see if your Uncle Henry wanted to go to lunch, or maybe we could go to the park, then get an ice cream. But since you guys have seven levels left.” You shrug as casually as you can. “Guess Moose and I are on our own.”

“I want ice cream!” Aiden cheers. “Oscar, turn off the game. Turn it off! We can go get ice cream! Oscar!” the small boy pesters his big brother.

A sight all too familiar for Henry. He was often the one pestering his brothers to do cool things, too.

“Go away.” Oscar pushes Aiden to the side, trying to play the game.

“Oscar, don't push your brother.” Henry corrects. His brow knit, he means business. “Why don't we turn off the game and go to the park.”

Scowling, Oscar rolls his eyes, a Cavill trait. You can't help giggle at how much the two boys look like their uncle.

“Why can't she take him and we stay here?” Oscar pauses the game.

“Because we are all going, I said so.” Henry pulls rank over the sulking child. “Now, it is my game and I want it turned off. I will banish you from playing the rest of the weekend.”

Did that sort of thing actually work?

Indeed it did, for Henry at least. He didn't have to ask the second time. Oscar did as he was told, powering down the gaming system, not without a pout though. Dogs and children wrangled, everyone was out of the house in a timely fashion. Another grumble came, when the boys – primarily Oscar – realized that this was an adventure to be taken on foot.

Whatever, he would get over it.

Holding tightly to Moose's leash, Aiden walked proudly along side his uncle. The red Aussie being on his best behaviour, although you made sure to keep a close eye in case he got any ideas to run off with the child. Making it to the park in one piece, no run offs or mishaps, was nearly a miracle. Letting the two dogs off to play, Henry handed Oscar the ball and told him to throw it as far and hard as he could.

Aiden didn't go too far, sitting in the grass, chatting idly with you. He told you about his favourite subject at school. His favourite sport and hobbies. The topic of conversation got real, when he leaned in closer. Whispering that his favourite superhero was Ironman, but he would pretend to like Superman to make his uncle Henry happy.

Overhearing the confession, Henry shot you a wink and a slight nod. He was well aware of his nephew's acting skills.

Throwing the ball with his uncle, until the two dogs returned panting and tired, Oscar ignored you and Aiden. Enjoying the time he had to chat with Henry about various things. Sports mostly. He made the observation that the usually shy Aiden was your new best mate. Sitting on your knee in the grass, Aiden laughed as you tickled him. Your bonding interrupted by Kal wandering over and slobbering against your face.

“Kal!” You squeal and push the big dog away. “Get off.”

“I think he's saying it's time for ice cream.” Henry laughed, retrieving Kal.

“Ice cream!” Aiden cheered rushing to his feet, Moose dancing along beside him.

Settled on the grass under a big shady tree, Aiden had his wish. An ice cream cone in his hand, melted debris on his cheeks and chin. He was a picture of happy. Oscar sat with his back against the tree, watching flock of birds near by. Henry rested beside him, Kal's leash in his hand. The big dog licking his paws, having finished a small cup of delicious ice cream.

Sitting beside Aiden, you hold your ice cream for Moose to take a lick. He had his own cup as well, although he refused to share with you. Funny how dogs and children were that way. Henry had shared his with you, insisting that you try the passion fruit frozen yogurt. Resting in the shade, you can't help but enjoy the comfortable silence between the four of you. The boys had been perfect all afternoon, you were certain their mother would be thrilled to hear that they had done something other than played video games. In the silence, Oscar shifted around, sitting to face his Uncle.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” Henry nodded.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Hearing the question, you nearly choke. Sputtering and wiping a hand across your chin.

“No, we're friends.” Henry rolls his eyes. Giving you an apologetic look.

“Friends who like to kiss?”

“No, friends who like to sacrifice small children who ask too many questions.” You speak without any thought on that comment. The sheer look of terror on the child's face is enough to force Henry into hiding his laughter.

“Uncle Henry, she's weird.” Aiden licks his ice cream cone, pushing the melting treat a little too hard. Resulting in it splatting to the ground, bottom lip trembling Aiden is on the verge of tears when Kal and Moose rush to the rescue. Kal hunting down the ice cream on the ground, cleaning up. Moose goes straight for the face, licking the remains off of the little boy's face. “Uncle Henry!” Aiden laughs as the dog's tongue tickles his face, Moose now joined by Kal.

“Boys, off.” You attempt to call off the dogs, while Henry has already gone to get Aiden a second cone. “Kal, Moose. Now.”

“Here we are,” Henry holds a new cone, laughing when he sees the sight. Aiden on the ground, Kal and Moose licking his face like it was their new day job. “Well, at least I won't have to clean him up.”

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seasonsofeverlark · 4 years

Text

Oktoberfest Effect

Author: @alliswell21

Prompt: Town boys (drunk?) dare each other to venture into woods (Halloween night? [Oktoberfest]). Katniss saves Peeta (from peacekeepers? storm?) by pulling him into a cave for the night. (Drunk Peeta talks too much and is cuddly?) [submitted by @567inpanem]

Rating: Teen (for drunkenness)

Author’s Note: Thank you to @mandelion82 for lending me her beta services, and being a generally awesome cheerleader! Thank you @567inpanem for the prompt, I hope it brings you joy! Thank y’all for reading!

Oktoberfest, originally from Munich, Germany, is a two week folkloric festival, celebrated between the third Sunday of September and the first Sunday of October. Copious amounts of beer get served worldwide to celebrate Oktoberfest…👀this fic doesn’t reflected the cultural richness of the festival and or what it represents!👀

Tags: In Panem AU; No Games AU; Not representative of Oktoberfest; Drunken Shenanigans; Thunder storms; Snarky!Everlark; Humor; Blink-and-you-Miss-it fluff. One Shot.

———————

Oktoberfest is one of my least favorite festivals in the small repertory of celebrations my District is allowed.

It’s usually held in the beginning of October, after the first showers of Fall, and tends to last all day long, severely cutting into my hunting time in the woods, which comprises the bulk of my family’s livelihood. My mother is a healer, but people used to struggle to pay for her services back in the day, so she stopped charging anyone; people gave her what they could: rations, produce from their squalid gardens, old clothes and such. You’d think people would pay with coins, now that things have improved for common folks, but some habits die hard.

It’s probably the same reason we keep observing a holiday that’s real meaning has been lost to Panem since before the Dark Days; people just know that at some point, Oktoberfest was celebrated around this time, and people ate and drank ale by the bucketfuls, so that’s what they do today.

By the same token, it’s the most popular festivity in District 12, since it’s the only day of the year in which drinking is sanctioned and even encouraged by the higher-ups of government. Trains come carrying ale, spiked ciders, and even hard liquor for the celebration. People like Ms. Ripper, who sells moonshine and white liquor in our black market, better known as The Hob, have free range to sell their wares openly, without suffering repercussions.

The meek, dull denizens of District 12 drink the spirits by the gallons, just for the one day, and pass out in the most unseemly places around town, like savages. If something had become clear to me with the passing years, it’s that people tend to enjoy drunkenness to soothe their woes away, so it’s natural everyone embraces Oktoberfest.

But, as with everything, things aren’t as bleak as I tend to see them myself.

“Katniss!” My sister, Prim, calls breathlessly from the maypole circle, beckoning me over with one hand, while holding a bright, yellow ribbon in her other, “There still are a few ribbons left!” She shouts excitedly, her meaning plain: she wants me to join in the festivities.

Normally I’d shy away from any and all activities that would have me interacting directly with the townsfolk. It’s nothing personal against them, I’m just not used to being touched by anyone, except for my family, and weaving ribbons around the maypole practically ensures I’d be brushing up against any number of strangers …but, there are worse games to play, and I could never deny my sister anything, not even this.

I make my way to Prim and reluctantly snatch up a pale blue ribbon from the ground. My sister’s smile is so bright I almost relax when the music starts, and the dancers take to moving in and out around the pole.

It isn’t as bad as I was dreading it to be. The music is lively; the fiddler follows the dancers while the rest of the band plays on the makeshift stage a few feet away, and the pole is relatively short and moderately wide, so we make quick work of braiding a pretty pattern in one go. Also, people are at a respectable distance from one another, and most everyone feels as awkward around me as I feel around them, so they just give a wide berth when they pass me by.

Prim and I are laughing when the song comes to an end, and we take a minute to admire the pole’s multicolored design.

There’s a line of smiling people waiting in the fringes to take the ribbons the opposite direction to unravel them and weave them together again.

I pull Prim into a hug and kiss her blonde head, fondly. “Let’s give somebody else a turn, Little Duck.” Prim narrows her eyes just a smidge; she’s almost 16 and doesn’t appreciate the nickname as much anymore. “Let’s put some warm apple cider into you, yes?”

Joy returns to her baby blues immediately. “Yes! We should go find Mother as well!” she says excitedly.

“Let’s go then!”

After finding our mother in the crowd, and haggling over three cups of cider and one bag of boiled peanuts, our mother suggests we go home early, before the party gets rowdy.

An unfortunate byproduct of Oktoberfest with all the unchecked drinking is men get loud, bold and stupid. Better to clear out before that happens, because while crimes aren’t tolerated— under the influence or sober—people tend to get belligerent when alcohol is involved.

President Snow died years ago, when I was Prim’s age. Many things changed drastically, like the abolishment of the Hunger Games, and a slightly better salary for miners, but the seemingly tolerant new government of Panem gives men a strange leave to criticize the Capitol while drunk…which technically, is still a crime in today’s Panem, just not as mortally dangerous anymore. Still, women try to haul their spouses home before they can say something incriminating and land themselves in prison.

Nothing can be done about the youngsters, though.

With women trying to keep a leash and muzzle over the men, the teenagers have unhindered access to alcohol and close to no supervision; although spirits are supposedly only served to people 17 and older, I wouldn’t put it past the vendors to look the other way if a group of merchant kids pass a few extra coins across the table, when nobody is watching.

If grown up men are loud, bold and stupid while drunk, teen and young adult men are even worse, and that’s without a gaggle of equally intoxicated girls egging them on.

This year— as in every Oktoberfest— the electric fence surrounding the district lays dormant and harmless, lest one of the hundreds of inebriated fools roaming the meadow fall into the wires and fry themselves upon accident.

Not that the Capitol cares if a few malnourished— probably discontented— miners fall dead during a district festival; people in 12 used to keel over from starvation all the time back under Snow’s regime, but those deaths were usually chalked up to any number of unrelated causes: pneumonia, heart weakness, black lung disease…anything, except starvation. But dying electrocuted on the very fence that’s supposed to keep us safe in our little district is unthinkable! The fence is there to keep dangerous beasts— and nutritious game alike— away from us.

District 12 remains that enduring jewel of Panem, where you can starve in safety! All we need is to drink the memory of our empty pantries away for another year, and everyone is happy. I sigh. At least they did away with the Hunger Games; now we have singing contests and trivia challenges playing on national television instead of the blood shed of innocent teenagers, which is certainly an improvement. Somehow it’s still not a fair bargain, but district folk will never complain about this particular trade; our children are safe, and we get to watch Capitol people make fools of themselves in front of everyone.

Mother, Prim and I make it home early enough to make a quick supper of roasted potatoes, salted fish and the last of the bakery bread I traded for this week. I make a mental note to bring down a couple squirrels to trade with the baker for more bread. The man is one of the few I can regularly count on to trade fairly with, so I always save him the best of my squirrels.

By the time dinner is being cleared off the table, I can hear the murmur of families returning home from the meadow. A surge of nervous energy takes over me. I start bouncing my leg restlessly, peeking at the old clock hanging on the wall.

“Are you going out again?” asks my mother. Her tone is light and her eyes focused on the heap of plates and forks she’s balancing in her hands. I know better than to believe she’s alright with me leaving again.

“For a while,” I answer.

“You could get stuck out there!” says Prim, clearly displeased.

“I’ve been working on a shelter, just in case. I’ll be back before dawn if I can help it,” I say, brokering no arguments.

“Be careful,” Prim mumbles, her blue eyes pleading.

I stand up from my chair and plant a kiss on the crown of her blonde head. “I promise. Now, go make sure Lady is secured before I leave. I don’t want anyone getting any ideas seeing a goat loose out there.” Not that anyone would cross me knowingly, but people get a lot dumber while drunk.

The sun set on the horizon long ago, but all my years sneaking around urge me to blend instantly with the river of dark-haired children trailing their dark-haired mothers and fathers all over The Seam. It certainly is an entertaining sight; the children are immensely happier than their parents, of course, bouncing and giggling, carrying in their spindly arms their Oktoberfest bounty of apples and freshly picked ears of corn stuffed into old burlap sacks, prizes given to them by the Capitol for every one of those silly games they played at the festival. At least they know supper won’t consist of tesserae bread tonight.

Reaching the fence will be trickier now that the meadow is crawling with blond merchants and peacekeepers patrolling the perimeter of the fence ‘for our safety’. A few miners remain, helping with the cleanup process to earn some extra money, but they are so few I can’t use our physical similarities to hide in plain sight. The merchants, meandering around the meadow, throwing nervous glances at the fence every so often, pretending they don’t care the thing is off, certainly hinders my ability to sneak around.

I wasn’t the only person who ventured outside the fence by any means. Historically, people have snuck under the barbed wire links in the past to steal apples and berries, when the hunger pains were scarier than the bears and wild dogs roaming the woods; necessity is a great incentive, it either makes you very brave or very reckless…but the few merchants still hanging out here only linger ‘cause an alcohol-fueled thrill holds them captive. Tomorrow, when they’re home nursing a head-splitting hangover, they’ll go back to cowering at the sight of the fence.

There’s a group of towheaded youngsters, singing obnoxiously, near the edge of the meadow.

I roll my eyes and try to ignore them for the time being. Meanwhile, I skirt around the maypole, pretending I’m admiring the workers’ effort, pulling the pole out of the ground to haul it into storage until next year. It’s a massive effort, but all I can do is lament how now there’s gonna be a soft spot in the ground for a while there, even after they fill it back with dirt and rocks.

I curse darkly under my breath when I startle at the sight of two peacekeepers passing by the merchant boys.

The singing stops while the townies nod politely at the albino buzzards. The boys stare at the peacekeepers until they disappear at a bend behind a big, tall retention wall where the fence stops into a jagged corner, and then the young merchants do something very peculiar…they start a round of ‘Row Your Boat’, holding up their fingers in some sort of countdown. Their voices are so shrill and out of tune, everyone around covers their ears and looks the opposite way.

I cock my head, studying the boys. They’re clearly intoxicated: red noses and ears, laughing at nonsense, and the biggest telltale, a bottle of white liquor passing around their misshapen circle. I realize, they’re not all teenagers. A few of them I recognize from my days in school, and I know for a fact two of them are married, and at least one of them has a child on the way already.

I roll my eyes at their childish behavior.

The peacekeepers appear again in the distance, and the singers stop their song abruptly. One of the older guys lifts his fingers up, showing all ten digits; he closes his fists quickly and opens them again, now showing seven fingers. They all giggle like lunatics, and I lose interest in them.

I round the cleaning crew closest to the fence, but suddenly, one of the townies stands up and starts calling at the top of his lungs, startling me.

“Hey, you! The girl with the braid!”

I whip around, because I’m 99% sure he’s talking to me! I’ve worn my dark, Seam hair in a single braid down my back for the last 8 years or so; it’s practical, really, to keep it that way. But that’s besides the point.

I wear my fiercest scowl on my face, and I get an uncomfortable jolt to the stomach when I realize I know this guy, the one waving at me while his companions guffaw around him, still intoning their childish ditty.

Peeta Mellark, the baker’s youngest son, a boy I owe the biggest debt of my entire life, and for the first time since I can remember, he’s meeting my gaze without wavering.

Debt or not, I have half a mind to stomp his way, grab him by the collar and shove him into the nearest tree in retaliation. My mouth opens to ask him what his problem is, when out of nowhere a pair of peacekeepers pop up from behind the retention wall, walking in the opposite direction of the previous set of guards.

“Did you know it takes about a minute and a half to sing ‘Row Your Boat’ seventeen times?” Peeta Mellark chuckles, pink cheeks and nose, tilting his head towards the fence, and then his blue, sparkly eyes flit to the peacekeepers passing by; all the boys stop singing and nod at them in greeting. “Then, it takes like five minutes to sing something else, until we go back to Row Your Boat!”

These guards must’ve crossed the other ones at some point while out of sight without me noticing. If I hadn’t been distracted by Peeta calling out to me, I would’ve run right into them on my way to the fence, if not flat out caught red-handed crossing into the woods, and how would I explain myself then?! Everyone in District 12 knows of my poaching proclivities, peacekeepers included, but that doesn’t mean I should go flaunting around my intention to trespass. Panem is still not completely free and whether people should have the right to escape into the woods for sustenance is still a murky topic…I’m not too keen on finding out if hunting is still a punishable crime by today’s parameters.

I turn my eyes back to Peeta, but he’s already singing and joking with his buddies, and although he seems to be invested in whatever shenanigans they’re doing, I’m not too sure he’s oblivious to me. After all, he had to be watching me pretty closely to accurately guess I was close to being discovered.

I huff. My debt to Peeta just increased, and I have no idea how to start paying him back for it.

The peacekeepers are again out of sight; the merchants are singing again, and like before, people look away from their ruckus. There’s one boy with his fingers up…counting.

Peeta’s watching me; he lifts 4 fingers offhandedly and turns to face his friends.

Clever!

It’s a code, I gather.

They’re timing the passing of the peacekeepers into the ‘blind spot’ with one song, then start a different one to predict when the keepers will be back on the retention wall.

I shake my head to clear off the hint of a smile taking over my face. The silly drunks aren’t as stupid as I thought, I guess.

I make sure no one is looking my way; I also check the kid counting how many boats they’ve rowed, and leap closer to the spot I know there’s a loose link. I only have ten rows before the peacekeepers come back, so I make quick work out of the wires and slip to the other side fast.

The drunk boys break into hoots and cheers once I’m in the woods, and despite myself, I look in their direction just to make sure nobody saw me scurrying out. I’m partially hidden by a tree, and should be safe now.

The cheering isn’t because I slipped out of the districteffectively; the boys are either harshly ruffling Peeta’s hair, or slapping him on the back. They’re all laughing and crowing something I can’t make out, but soon I see the glint of white uniforms out of the corner of my eyes, and hide deeper into the woods.

I decide to check on my snares around here and head home right away. This was perhaps the worst entrance I’ve made into the woods, and too many know I’m out here as it is, but, if the townies are gonna act as a siren of sorts, better to use their system to my advantage.

Then…I need to figure out how to finally speak to Peeta Mellark and start getting my ledger even with him.

It’s completely dark by the time I reach my snares. I look at the sky and scowl. The stars are obscured, and the moon has a hazy ring around it. Clouds are rolling in too fast for my liking. Rain is coming, soon. So I make haste and run my fingers along the first wire I find.

My snare wields two rabbits, and I bag them without resetting the traps. I figure one of these will be enough to hold my family over for a couple of days. I can make some coins out of the second rabbit, which should be enough until Oktoberfest has died down and business resumes as normal. It’s a good plan if I say so myself.

A peal of thunder breaks in the distance, and I grunt lowly. This night keeps getting worse by the minute; it’s good that I’m almost back to my entry point. I head back to the fence, where I can still hear the faint howls of laughter of the merchant boys.

I’m 30 yards from the fence when another clap of thunder roars overhead, loud enough to reverberate in my bones; people beyond the fence shriek. I’ve only taken a step forward when lightning strikes, and I know the storm is hot on my heels.

The chanting of the merchants is getting louder. I never thought I’d think this, but it’s a relief, knowing I can count on them to distract the patrols while I sneak back into the district.

They’re egging and heckling each other like a bunch of rowdy hoodlums.

“Go on! Ten coins says you won’t last a second!”

“I say fifteen, if he brings back proof he was there!”

Somebody belches loudly, making the rest giggle like school kids.

I roll my eyes and try to concentrate on finding my loose wire in the distance. I’m only a few feet away from the fence, but it’s dark and windy.

“Seeriouslee, though,” hiccups another, mispronouncing his words. “Gwhat should he…” hiccup, “bring?” Hiccup.

“Don’t know. A berry maybe,”

“Or a bear bite!” cackles another. They all laugh boisterously.

I wonder what they’re up to now. The fools! Don’t they know they should be running home for cover? The first raindrops are already falling.

“Fine! Okay…I’ll do it! But I wanna see all that money now!” slurs a voice I recognize, because I heard it calling me less than twenty minutes ago. “Pay up!”

No! Not him! I think, feeling my stomach drop. Whatever it is they’re doing, doesn’t sound very smart.

“Dis it?!” Peeta Mellark groans, “I’m taking all your money, so I can buy me a hen house! Dis not even ‘nough to buy me chicken feed!”

I hear grumbling nearby, and the clicking of metal, suspiciously similar to how coins sound falling on each other. I assume they’re shedding the rest of their money for Peeta to see.

“‘Kay…‘Kay…better now. Okay. Imma go now. Hold me money, Rye…and don’t spend any of it! I counted it… it’s me money! Don’t steal it, or I tell Lavender you were smooching girls a week before you got married!”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Don’t steal me money!”

“Fine!”

“Fine! And don’t tell father ‘bout dis either!”

Somebody yells, “Mellark, stop stalling!”

“Yeah! Get—“ hiccup, “on with it al—“ hiccup, “…ready!”

“Goin’, I’m goin’!” I hear a few murmurs.

I swear, Peeta Mellark! If you set foot in my woods, I’ll shoot you in the toes!

I’m close enough to the fence to see a few lights flicking close by, but then another thunder drums, with a lightning to boot, and the rain droplets fall heavier.

“Wait! White helmets!” hisses someone, and even I drop to the ground to hide.

“Evenin,’ officers!” says Peeta.

I can picture him in my mind’s eye, smiling the same way he used to in school when covering for one of his friends to the teachers.

“Evening? It’s almost nine o’clock, boys!” says a woman. I’m not quite familiar with her voice, but I can surmise she’s one of the peacekeepers on patrol. “Curfew starts in 30 minutes, and a storm’s on its way. I suggest you all head to your houses.”

“Yeah, we will finish pickin’ up our garbage and head right home, officer!” says Peeta, all polite and pleasant like.

“Very well. You better clear out by the time we return, or we’ll have you spend the night in a cozy cell at the Justice Building,” says a gruff male voice, most likely the second peacekeeper. “Now, get on with the cleaning, gentlemen.”

There’s a chorus of voices murmuring stuff like “Right away, sir!” and “Of course, officer.” A lot of movement and hushed conversations go on for a minute or so while I lay on my stomach like an idiot.

I can only assume the peacekeepers are out of earshot when Peeta exclaims happily, “Aight! I’m goin’ in!”

The others start fussing and protesting, talking over each other frantically: “You can’t go in!”, “Are you crazy?! You heard them, there’s a storm coming!”, “Stop being a damned hero, Mellark! You already showed us up, by speaking to Everdeen!”

Peeta calls out, “Guys! Shut up! She’s the reason I wanna go in there! She ain’t back yet!”

I frown.

“Everdeen? Dude, she’s probably stalking a deer or somethin’…she’s fine!” says who I believe is his brother.

“Well…but what if she needs help? Shouldn’t some’ne go get ‘er?” He sounds concerned and strangely hopeful.

My stomach does a strange little flip at Peeta’s words, and then I have to shake my head to stop myself from being grateful for his concern. Outside of my family, Peeta Mellark seems to be the only person in this entire district who cares about me.

“No! That girl’s half feral! All them wild things in the woods are probably more afraid of her than we are!” says Peeta’s brother.

I find myself nodding in agreement, but scowling at the same time, because I’m not feral! I just hunt and enjoy the respect— bordering on fear— people have for me.

It doesn’t matter, though! Right now I feel almost as silly as they sound, and I just want them to take Peeta home, so I can climb back into the district and go home myself.

“I’m still goin’ in!” I realize Peeta is looking for the spot I used to come into the woods, and I hear muttering and hissing trying to dissuade him from coming in, but he’s already pulling the wire the same way I did, and a moment later, he’s wiggling his broad frame under the fence like an inchworm rolling on salt.

“No!” I huff under my breath, scrambling to get up, to push him back in the other direction, but then somebody is whispering harshly.

“White helmets!”

I’m not even surprised to hear Peeta’s so-called friends run away then. Coward merchants the lot of them!

A thunder booms above us, and I see Peeta struggling to pull through under the flash of the lightning that follows. It’s a miracle the peacekeepers haven’t seen him, splashing in the muddy pool forming rapidly under his body.

“Ugh!” I finally find my feet and practically throw myself on top of his arms, to pull him in.

Peeta shrieks, startled by my sudden appearance, so I slap a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

“Hush! Or they’ll find us!”

I pull him further out from under the wire. He seems to realize what I’m trying to do and relaxes his muscles, letting me guide him forward while propelling himself with the toe of his boots.

There’s a bush just two feet away from us. I drag him with me on all fours and crouch behind it until the peacekeepers’ flashlights disappear.

“Hi!” says Peeta.

“Shush!”

“Sorry!” he whispers…loudly.

“Quiet!” I hiss, bringing a finger to my mouth, as if I was dealing with a toddler instead of a 20-year-old man.

“‘Kay,” he responds, this time in an actual whisper.

I still roll my eyes at him.

Thunder and lightning and cold, stabbing rain fall from the sky unrelenting.

“Listen, we can’t stay here too long; we need to crawl back into the district!” I tell him, peeking from behind our hiding spot to make sure we are alone. I can’t see very far ahead, but it’s obvious the meadow is empty now.

“What?!” he calls loudly.

“For goodness sakes!” I mutter in frustration. “We need to crawl back into the district, or we’re gonna drown out here!” I’m having to yell so he can hear me over the rain.

“Oh! O-kay!” he says, smiling beguilingly at me. “I came to get you!” he yells.

I look at him, trying to convey all the annoyance I’m feeling towards him right now with just my facial expression, but I guess the moonlight is so minimal he can’t see me, because all he does is smile back at me.

“You’re welcome!” he yells after a second in a self-satisfied tone.

“For what?” I snap.

“For rescuing you, of course!”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Rescuing— you… what?!” I screech.

More thunder and lighting make it impossible to keep doing this where we are. And thanks to the storm, it’s too risky trying to crawl under the fence, too. Negotiating Peeta’s humongous body back under the railings in these conditions is just calling for trouble; we’ll either get found by the peacekeepers— if they’re still patrolling— or get hit by lightning; after all, the fence is meant to conduct electricity and fry whatever touches it.

I’m lost in my head, thinking about our options at this point, when a bright flash cracks overhead, so strong, it makes everything look like it’s day time, and I fall back on my butt for how close Peeta’s face is to mine.

“What are you doing?” I rasp.

“Wow! Has anyone ever told you, you have freckles over the bridge of your nose?” He asks, placing his two paw-like hands on my shoulders, pulling me back onto my haunches. “From close up, your face is as pretty as the night sky with all its coteslations!”

“Hmm…no—nobody’s ever said…” I huff. “Come on. We can’t stay here.” I tell him, pulling him by the hem of his coat’s sleeve. “I think you meant ‘constellations’ by the way. Alcohol really messes up your speech, you know.”

I think he says something, but I’m not sure, since the storm is swallowing up all the sounds around us.

The going is slow, because we have to wait for lightning to illuminate our way, and once, I realized we were straying onto a different path from the place I have in mind. Plus, I have to keep trying to untangle myself from Peeta’s grasp, so I can feel around the way with my feet. Peeta talks too much…nonstop, and I think it’s mostly the alcohol talking, but ugh! Would it kill him to just be quiet for a second?!

He’s awfully clingy for such a big man. I mean, he’s grown a few inches since we were in school, and he used to be stocky and broad-shouldered, even as a teenager, on account of him being wrestling champion two years in a row, plus having to handle those heavy trays in the bakery and whatnot.

I forgot where I was going with this?

Anyway, I hope the alcohol clears his system soon. He seems like an overgrown puppy at times, the way he trails after me and touches the end of my braid, which I guess he might be using as some kind of leash or rope to tether himself to me. Surprisingly, I don’t find it as annoying as I should. In fact, I find the warmth of his fingers… reassuring.

“Stop!” I tell him, when I hear rustling nearby I know isn’t from the rain.

A wild dog jumps in front of us, and I curse loudly. I should’ve grabbed my bow on our way out here, but I didn’t want Peeta to see my hiding spot; not that he’ll remember how to get to it, but he was able to find my loose chain in the fence, so…

I think the dog is coming after us. But before I can tell Peeta to run, he pulls me flush with his chest and somehow lifts me over his head like I weigh nothing. The dog is momentarily confused, and I take the chance to chuck one of my rabbits past it. The dumb animal looks at us curiously, but after a second, loses interest and goes for the easier, smaller prey.

I just got reminded of how strong Peeta is.

“Thank you!” I call out when he lowers me back to his chest. “You can let go of me now. The dog’s gone, but there might be more around.”

Peeta nods. His blue eyes are wide and alarmed, his cheeks, ruddy with booze just a few minutes ago, are drained of color. “Alright!” he gasps, clearly shaken.

I grab his arm and squeeze, leading him away from the spot.

It’s times like these when I miss my old hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne; for starters, he would’ve had a bow on him…he would’ve shot and killed the dog. He would’ve had my back… but Peeta had my back this time, and he surely is no seasoned hunter, not even an outdoorsman, yet it was his quick thinking and sheer brute strength that saved my hide.

It’s also the reason Gale and I broke our partnership to begin with. Given the chance, he would’ve left Peeta stranded out here, instead of finding him shelter. But that’s his style, not mine, and Peeta has shown his worth twice tonight, inebriated as he is.

I release a sigh of relief when I see the opening of a burrow on the side of a small hill. It’s not truly a cave; it’s much too shallow to be called that, but, I found it about a year ago, and have been carving it out little by little for these kinds of emergencies, when I need shelter on the run, and the concrete little shack by the lake is too far, and I want to stay close to the fence, anyway.

“Oooh! Is this a cave? Is it abandoned? We ain’t gonna walk into some bear den or somethin’?” Peeta asks, bumping into my back when I stop to remove a few branches from the entrance of my little hiding spot.

“Get in!” I command him, and he obeys at once.

I take a few minutes to rearrange the branches at the mouth of the cave, just to keep the water from splashing inside, although we are soaked through our jackets.

“Sit,” I tell him, bumping into him again when I turn to feel round the wall of the cave for my provisions. The little hollow is only 5 ft wide by 6 feet deep, so there isn’t much room to wiggle for two people even if we were both my size.

Peeta has to hunch down as it is.

He’s quiet for the time being. My fingers touch the cool glass of the oil lamp I was feeling for, and right next to it, is a box of matches. I can finally breathe!

I make quick work of the lamp, and we are finally in better shape than we were a moment ago. Peeta blinks owlishly at the lamp, and I can tell he’s surprised, but blinded by the sudden light.

“Where are we?” Peeta asks in awe.

“It’s my emergency shelter,” I tell him, kicking a log from the back of the cave towards him. “Here, you don’t have to sit on the ground.” I tell him, watching him sitting almost directly in front of the entrance with his legs crossed.

“You have a shelter out here? I knew you were smart, but I didn’t know you were a genius!”

My cheeks heat up for some reason. “Nah. It’s just common sense. Too many experiences out there without one. Whatever. Intelligence has nothing to do with this, really.”

“So…do animals come in here?” he asks, turning his head around to study the place, not as nervously as before.

“No. It’s too small for a big animal’s den, and too big for a small critter’s burrow. It’s ‘me’ size because I’ve been digging it out little by little, and putting stuff in it for when I find myself in the same predicament we are in right now.”

Peeta shifts to his knees and slowly stands up, hunching a smidge, ‘cause the cave ceiling is too low for him. He lumbers to the log I offered him earlier and sits on it heavily.

“This place is great!” he states, looking at the crude shelving carved into the dirt where I keep the lamp, matches, a couple of cans of food I’ve agonized about leaving here because it feels like a waste, and things like spare arrowheads and fletchings; things that’d be useful in a pinch.

I have a knife hidden inside the very log Peeta’s sitting on, but I’m not about to divulge that secret. It’s my last line of defense, and since I don’t have my bow on me, I feel safer knowing there’s at least one weapon in the cave I can count on. I need to bring a bow here at some point; I just haven’t found a good way to camouflage…yet.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“Um, you can sit here,” says Peeta after a long moment passes in silence. “Plenty of room!” He motions to the log, scooting to free up some space.

It looks ridiculous, because there truly isn’t any room left on that log for me to sit. Peeta looks like a smushed rag-doll, sitting on a match box, and all the room he’s leaving next to him, is only big enough to accommodate a toothpick.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, with a reluctant smile. “I’ll stand for now.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, biting his lip guiltily.

“Yeah. Let me be a generous host.”

His face falls. “I’m sorry,” he rushes to say. “You wouldn’t have to be playing host in your lovely cave if it wasn’t for me. Sorry I was so stupid,” he says sheepishly, “I should’ve known you had it under control before I tried coming in after you.”

“Oh…it’s alright. It was…touching. All those things you said back there.” My cheeks are burning with embarrassment.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” he says, sounding almost sober.

Another long minute goes by in silence. “Was that a wolf out there?” he asks suddenly. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought about kicking it, but I was afraid it would mangle up my leg, and then I’d get blood poisoned and since medicine is hard to come by, I probably would’ve lost my leg, and I’m not sure I’d be able to master a fake one…unless it was like a Capitol grade thing with robotic nerve connectors and the such… I read some man in District 3 figured out how to make prosthetics that you can control with a chip implanted in your brain!”

I find myself laughing at his nonsense. And he seems to enjoy my laugh, because he keeps saying outrageous things, I can’t tell if he’s just making them up on the fly, or if he really read about them somewhere.

I slide against the wall after a while, until I’m crouching close to the wet floor. Our clothes cling to our bodies, but most of the water has leaked off of us already, which is good, since I can’t light a fire inside the cave.

“Are you hungry?” I ask him, interrupting his musings about how chewing gum is inherently evil, since we don’t have dentistry accessible in the districts. The boy really talks too much!

Peeta cranes his neck to glare at my game bag, which I recently placed by my feet.

“What do you have there?” He asks, interested.

“A rabbit. But we can’t eat that raw. We’d get sick with fever if we try. I wouldn’t recommend it,” I tell him. “But I have canned fruit we can share,” I offer.

He makes an agreeing noise at the back of his throat. “I could eat.”

“Fine. Um…close your eyes for a second. And don’t peek!” I chide.

As with everything else I’ve commanded today, Peeta obeys without questioning, and soon I’m darting my hand into the end of the log, retrieving my knife.

“Open your eyes,” I say.

“Where did you get that from?!” he screeches, staring open-mouthed at my knife.

“Secret compartment,” I deadpan.

“Well…I hope you’re not planning on stabbing me with that thing. That blade is bound to be dull now that you hacked into that can with it.”

“What does it matter if the blade’s dull?” I ask, exasperated.

“It’ll tear up my skin if you try stabbing me with it!” Peeta answers, arms moving in exaggerated arches, “I much rather get a clean cut through, thank you very much!”

What’s wrong with this boy?! He’s acting like discussing his own potential stabbing is an everyday thing.

“For your information, I’m pretty adept at sharpening things! And…Eww! Gross! Why would I wanna stab you?” I shudder. “I’m sorry, but I don’t do wounds, and I don’t do blood.” I pull a face, shivering.

“You kill things for a living!” He rolls his eyes in disbelief. “Why, the inside of your bag is covered in dried blood from those bunnies right now!”

“Animals! I hunt animals! I don’t do people’s blood and stuff…gross!”

“You’re kinda squeamish for such a lethal thing, aren’t ya?”

“Shut up and eat your pears!” I shove the open can into his hands, and he stares suspiciously at me for a minute before digging in.

Peeta moves over a few more inches, and the toothpick space widens to a Katniss’-rearside-size spot. This time, I take his offer gratefully and sit down next to him. He passes the can to me when he’s done.

“You know…this is the first time we’ve done something normal together,” he says, pensive.

“It’s the first time we’ve done anything together, Peeta, period!”

Peeta gasps, and there’s silence for a second. “You’re amazing!” He says, staring and blinking at me while I chew, as if I truly was some extraordinary sight to behold.

I scowl. “Why? Because I fed you canned food in a torrential storm in the middle of the woods?” I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic.

“Yeah…” he says dreamily, then scowls, then shakes his head. “Nah! You’re just…amazing! Even my mother says that you’re a survivor and the only thing District 12 has of worth…a better version of Haymitch Abernathy!”

Haymitch Abernathy is District 12’s one, and only living, Hunger Games Victor. He’s also a grumpy hermit, and a drunk, and the richest person in the district. Like me, he was born in the miners’ sector, nicknamed the Seam. People say Haymitch used to be smart as a whip, and a looker too, but now he’s just a paunchy, middle aged man, with anger issues.

“Well, that’s not much of a compliment, is it?” I wrinkle my nose.

Peeta laughs, brushing his shoulder against mine…but that’s to be expected, he’s a giant after all, and the cave is practically a tall dresser.

“No, I guess it’s not. But father always gushes about your squirrels. Says you never hit the pelt. You always shoot them right through the eye!”

“Well, anyone can do that with enough practice.” I shrug.

Peeta snorts, and his knee presses against mine. “I wish I could do even half of the stuff you do. You’re an amazing hunter, and smart, and so pretty, and you can bring down deer, and the way you are with your sister…well, my big brothers have never been doting with me as you are with Primrose.” He sighs, looking at the flickering flame of the oil lamp. “You are something else!”

“I— that’s not…” I’m frustrated and embarrassed, so I snap, “I wouldn’t have been able to do, or be, any of those things without your help, so…there!”

He scoots closer to me. His body is strangely warm, even under the layers of wet clothes. There’s bewilderment in his blue eyes, and for some reason, I can’t look away from the way his hair is all matted to his forehead. He looks boyish. Kinda cute.

“What do you mean?” He asks in a small voice.

I chuff. “Well, it was like today,” I start, leaning back, averting my eyes. He smells of spirits, but weirdly enough, I’m not repulsed by the scent. “You called out to me in the meadow, and I was about to rip you a new one, but then I realized you were trying to help me. Then, you save me from a wild dog, by doing something as simple as lifting me over your head, like I weighed nothing.” I feel small, all of eleven years old, and the fact that I’m wet to the bone and cold to the marrow doesn’t help my case. My voice comes out tiny, “You fed me when we were kids. I’ve never been able to even thank you for that!” I purse my lips to keep them from trembling, and blink some 28 times to keep from crying.

Peeta sidles up against me. “Oh, Katniss,” he says low and reverently. I realize with a jolt, that it’s the first time he’s said my name. “You’re talking about the bread when we were kids?” His eyes glass over. “You can let that go now… after saving my ass tonight from the storm and the peacekeepers, I think you can count us even.”

“How can you say that?” I demand, “You keep saving me, and I don’t know why?!”

“Really?” he asks, cocking his head sideways, scrunching his face, and shutting one eye like he can’t quite see me clearly with both eyes open; his tone isn’t malicious, just surprised. “You know why…at least, I think you should,” he says, shrugging and leaning closer. “I thought you’d notice how all of my friends were roasting me because I finally said something to you, and all I said was something lame about Row Your Boat.” He chuckles. “Fifteen years I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to talk to you, and when I finally do, I call you ‘ Hey, girl with the braid’ like an idiot!” He practically leans into me.

“Fifteen years?” I ask, bewildered.

“Yeah…” he trails off, his ears turning cherry red. “I seem to have harbored a crush on you since the first day of school, when we were five.” He slumps back against the wall, and suddenly I wish he was still draped over me, warming me up.

“Really?” I ask, because this story seems far-fetched.

“Oh yes! It’s a whole thing! Me being a goner from the moment I heard you singing that very first day…remind me to tell you all the gory details some day.”

“You betcha,” I say, amused.

“I’m sorry I’m such a dork, but hey! At least imma buy me some chickens to sell eggs, and save, to buy my father’s bakery one day, and then I’m gonna ask you out on a date or somethin’.”

“Uh— what? Really?!” I chuckle.

Peeta yawns. “Yeah, Imma take you somewhere nice for a picnic, like Victor’s Village or something, and I’m gonna bring good bread this time! None of that burnt, soggy crap I threw at you when we were kids, but real, freshly baked bread. With butter. And probably canned pears, ‘cause those are my favorites now!”

“Okay,” I tell him, not completely sure why I’m agreeing to this. After all, I decided a long time ago I was never getting married or having any children, at least, not as long as the Hunger Games loomed over me; I won’t be stringing Peeta along either. Gale accused me of doing just that once, which I don’t think I did? The accusation still stung.

Right now, it feels nice to think I could go on a date with this crazy merchant boy; and who knows?!

“Buttered bread sounds nice,” I say, sinking next to him.

“This is nice!” Says Peeta, sleepily, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

“Yeah…it is,” I agree, realizing just how steady and warm his arms are, even encased in wet clothing.

“Will you go out on a picnic with me, then?” He asks hopefully, yawning again. His eyes drooping with sleep.

“I think I might,” I tell him. I haven’t felt this safe in anyone’s embrace since my father died when I was 11 and I stopped trusting my mother. “I think I will,”

I’m beginning to think that the alcohol fumes clinging to Peeta have gone to my head, and left me as simple minded as all the intoxicated people back home, maybe I have it wrong, and Oktoberfest does have its charm, because despite myself, it feels right to indulge in that fantasy tonight. After all, Peeta was the only person in the district back then, that cared enough about me and my family dying of hunger, to do anything about it. He gave me bread he purposely burned for me, all he gained was a bruised eye from his mother, and my inability to repay his kindness, for his generous gesture.

“Good! Just a heads up, though, I’ll prolly propose to you at that picnic, ” he says. His eyes are already closed, and I roll mine in response. “What you think my odds are of you saying yes?” He snuggles up to me, his head falls onto my shoulder.

“The odds might be in your favor,” I tell him softly; I’m not so sure I say that to humor him, though. I am really tired, and sleeping in his arms does sound like a luxury right now, so I’m gonna blame it on the ‘Oktoberfest effect’ in the morning. Plead sleep depravation insanity or something. “Night, Peeta,”

He mumbles a response, which turns into a slow snore.

I close my eyes, smiling.

I’ll indulge in the drunken ramblings of Peeta tonight. Tomorrow is a new day, and if the saying is right, the sun shines brightest after a storm…maybe it’s time I bask in the rays.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn 2020 #alliswell21 #submission #autumn #prompt

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shesclearlya3 · 4 years

Text

Look What I Found.

Pairing: Bobby Richter II x Ghost!Reader

Word count: 2,716

2 0 1 9

You had a hitch that today was going to be a beautiful day.

You were roaming the campgrounds with your best friend, Xavier, early in the morning. It had been over thirty-years since you took your last breath here at Camp Redwood. After all that time, you finally started to see your predicament in a different light. While it sucked being your age forever and unable to enjoy life, you were with your friends. You had a great view of the valleys and the large lake that you occasionally liked to swim in. You loved watching the sunset over the water. You didn't realize your full love for nature until it was one of the only things you had left.

There was something different in the air on this fateful day. You had asked around to see if Xavier Plympton or Montana Duke had felt the same way. They shrugged it off, joking that the world was probably going to end and take everyone out of their misery.

The air was strangely cold, so you wore an oversized jacket with your shorts. You decided to take some time away from your rowdy friends and see if there were any baby animals you could fawn for a few hours. Xavier liked to tease you at all the names you had given chipmunks, rabbits, and skunks over the years until you named a particularly chubby squirrel after him. You saw Xavier Plympton Jr occasionally, his fat cheeks always full of food.

You were about to breeze past the entrance to the camp until you saw a car idling in the distance. You squinted at it, wondering if it was full of curious teenagers or assholes ready to tear the place up more than it already is.

You never minded having company around camp. You always tended to hide as tourists came and went. Every day it seems the fashion changed drastically. You watched as denim jackets slowly went out of style until they seemed to become popular again. You've seen jeans become more shredded over time, and those god awful chunky highlights seemed to finally go out of style.

You slowly hid out of sight as one of the doors swung open, and out stepped a dark-haired man. You could vaguely make out that he seemed to be rather tall, dressed warmly, and with a backpack. You waited for others to join him, but the car sped off, leaving a dust trail.

It was rare you had singles wander around the camp. Most people bought at least one friend with them, just in case the horrid stories of tourists disappearing after a visit here. You remembered the days when Xavier and Montana murdered many innocent people. It was a dark period that you wished you could forget.

As the man grew closer, you noticed he was at least in his early thirties. He was very handsome, slowly taking everything in as he pulled out something from his pocket, pointing it at the sign before you heard a click.

Did he just take a picture?

Your interest was piqued. That wasn't a camera you were used to seeing.

He observed the area quietly, occasionally raising the suspicious camera to snap a photo of the cabins. The more you watched him, the more you realized how good looking he was.

You decided it was time to leave before you got caught. You went to step over the large root of the tree you were hiding behind, not realizing it was higher than you anticipated. You let out a shriek as your sneaker covered foot snagged the root, sending you sprawling forward.

You hit the ground hard, your breath leaving you as you heard heavy footsteps rushing towards you. The man stood a few inches back as you scrambled to your feet, turning to look at him.

"Are you hurt?" He called towards you, his hands raised as you avoided eye contact, brushing yourself off.

"No, I just fell," you said, really wishing you would have just disappeared when you hit the ground. You were a ghost!

"Are you exploring too?" He asked a sort of timid, yet kind smile on his lips. You weren't used to this, what would you even say?

"Sort of," you said, deciding it was best to be friendly. "Uhh, what's your name?" You asked.

"Bobby," he said, finally putting down his hands. "And you are?"

"y/n," you replied, giving him a little wave. His lips twitched, giving you a small wave in return.

You decided to move towards him and out of the woods. Bobby watched you, his light smile slowly fading as he tried to pinpoint why you looked so familiar.

"I better get going..." you smiled, ignoring the confused look he was now giving you.

"What did you say your last name was?" Bobby suddenly asked.

"I-I didn't... but its y/l/n," you mumbled.

"Holy shit," he breathed. He shrugged off the backpack he was wearing, kneeling down as he quickly unzipped it and pulled out a thick black binder. You had a bad feeling in your stomach as he flipped through it, coming back to full height.

"Is this you?" He asked, turning the binder around and showing you a broad picture of you from the 80s. Your mouth fell open as Bobby watched you in fascination and fear.

"N-Nope, never seen her before in my life!" You deflected. Bobby frowned, and you were unsure if he was pained or just trying not to laugh.

"But your name is-?"

"Nope, not me." You said, before turning to head back to the lake.

"Wait a minute!" He called from behind, quickly stuffing the binder back in its place before he chased after you. You kept a quick pace, your head down as he eventually caught up to you.

"How are you still alive?" Bobby asked as you kept walking, steering clear of the lake when you saw your friends standing on the dock. You headed towards the kitchen, knowing there was a clearing you could go unheard.

"I don't understand what you're saying." You mumbled.

"You haven't even aged!" Bobby said. "What are you-?"

"I'm not trying to be rude, but could you leave?" You snapped, looking back as he slowed to a stop. There was a considerable amount of space between you now.

"I'm just... Trying to understand," Bobby said, looking a little sad now. You sighed, realizing you shouldn't have snapped at him.

"Who are you?" You asked, trying to figure out who this man was. "Why are you here?"

Bobby stood in silence, looking as if he were debating on how to answer that. You crossed your arms, patiently waiting as the air around you grew colder.

"I'm Bobby Richter," he said softly. You stared at him as his words sunk in, and you realized how stupid you were. "I'm trying to find out information about my father."

"Mr. Jingles," you whispered.

"So it is you? You were one of the victims here in 1984?" Bobby asked, moving closer to you.

"Your father killed me," you replied, closing your eyes. You haven't thought of your death in a long time. "He murdered my friends and me."

"How are you here?" He asked again, his tone becoming more severe.

"I'm dead," you shrugged, almost enjoying the horror that crossed his face. "I'm a ghost. A lost soul trapped here forever."

"I don't believe that. Ghosts aren't real?" Bobby shook his head.

You giggled, "Bobby, things aren't always what they seem."

He didn't quite know what to say to that. Bobby thought your laugh was cute, but this wasn't what he expected to find when he came here. You were as young as you were thirty years ago. This didn't make any sense. Then again, most of his life didn't.

"Look, I'm just here to find out what happened to my father, I'm desperate," Bobby said, and you could see the hurt lingering just below the surface.

You knew that you'd have to prove to him that you were telling the truth for this to work. "Okay. Follow me." You said, not waiting as you walked past him, knowing your friends would be able to help.

Bobby chugged down his bottle of water as you took a seat next to him on the stairs. His forehead was beaded with sweat.

"Believe me now?" You teased, enjoying watching him squirm.

"Yes," he said. "I'm sorry I even doubted you."

"No hard feelings," you shrugged, and he smiled at you. "You learned your lesson."

Bobby laughed, taking a moment to observe the surroundings. The clouds were starting to move in now. You hoped it would bring a storm, you missed the rain.

"Was Montana telling the truth?" Bobby asked, bringing your attention back to him. "You haven't seen my father since?..."

You smiled sadly, "No, we haven't seen him. There are times I wonder if he was somehow able to avoid being trapped here."

Like yourself and the others, Bobby was still perplexed about how any of this made sense. You had come to the realization ages ago that you'd never have an answer why souls never got to leave this place. But it would make you angry knowing your murderer might have gotten to go to another place after his death and you were stuck here.

You noticed the strange device sticking out of Bobby's pocket. He was deep in thought when you poked it with your finger. He looked down before looking at you with a nervous grin, "That's my phone, y/n," he said.

"Oh... There's no wire?" you asked.

Bobby laughed louder now, "No. It's all wireless, see?" he pulled it out, showing it to you. You came to learn that it did many things, including taking pictures, watching television, and shopping. You were amazed by this, wishing you had the chance to use it yourself.

"I can't believe how much the world has changed," you said sadly, seeing the darkened clouds hovering closer. "What year did you say it was?"

"We're halfway through 2019," Bobby nodded, now observing the sky with you. "Half the time, my life doesn't feel real anymore."

"What do you mean?" you prodded, seeing that he was back to being serious. You kind of liked that about Bobby, you realized.

"I've lived my whole life wondering about who I really was," he said, "I was young when I finally learned the truth. How my mother died, who my dad was, what happened here, all of that stuff. I don't think I quite processed it until I was about to graduate high school. My aunt, who raised me, started to hate talking about it, I was annoying asking her so many questions. I just wanted to know who my parents were. I wanted to know what really happened."

You nodded, still in disbelief that Mr. Jingles, the man partially responsible for the death of your friends, had a son sitting right in front of you. Bobby was typical; he had a sense of humor, he was sarcastic, he was ambitious. You always felt bad for him, especially after time passed, and you weren't angry anymore. Montana always said that we'd finally see his son, but you never would have expected this.

"When I was able to finally come out here..." he laughed, "I've heard all the stories about this place. The whole world has. I was a little worried that I wouldn't make it out alive, but... I didn't expect to meet you, either."

You were surprised to feel a jolt of happiness hearing his words.

"I figured if I could at least see the place that haunted my dreams for so long, maybe one day I'd be able to accept what is and put it behind me." Bobby gestured towards the cliffs where a storm was approaching. "Is there anywhere we could go?" he asked.

"Follow me," you said, and the two of you hurried off towards the recreational room. It was one of the few cabins that remained in decent shape; no leaks, no rotting wood, nothing.

You made it safely inside once it started to rain, and you sat in a chair across from Bobby, who looked as invested in the rain as you did. You sat in comfortable silence, listening to the rain's patter on the windows and the roof above.

"y/n?" He asked.

"What's up?" you asked, admiring the lightning that lit up the sky.

"You know, I did a lot of research about what happened here," he said, staring at your feet. You looked at him now, "And I read about how you died..."

You took a deep breath. You haven't thought of that in so long. At this point, you hardly remembered what it felt like. Your friends never liked to talk about 1984. It was almost like it never happened. You told Bobby this, seeing a hint of relief in his eyes.

"I just don't want to think of anyone hurting you." Bobby admitted, smiling at you. You reciprocated, finding that you loved talking to him.

"I don't remember, I guess time does heal." You shrugged, thinking of how your mother would always say that when you were in high school.

"I'm happy that you don't." He whispered.

You talked to him until the rain let up. The day was coming to an end, and you knew that he couldn't stay here with Margaret Booth on the loose. You swore to yourself already you'd protect Bobby.

"You should really head home, it won't be safe here after dark." You told him as you stepped outside, the air crisp. You hugged yourself as Bobby frowned.

"I don't want to leave you," Bobby said, and you stepped down into the wet soil. He stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at you.

You grinned, "I'm flattered, Bobby. But I'm serious, it's best if you stay away from here."

"And you can't leave?" He asked.

You shook your head, your smile fading. "I wish I could."

You followed Bobby towards the entrance. He rented something called an Uber with what little connection he had left. You still had a good twenty minutes with him until it was time to part ways. He continued to try and persuade you to let him stay.

"Bobby, don't you have a girlfriend or a wife waiting back home for you?" You teased as you stood in front of the lake in the sand.

He giggled nervously, "No, I don't actually,"

"Oh, I would have thought a stud like yourself would have a girl on the side, you know?"

He scoffed at you, "Nope, nothing like that."

You talked near the lake until his phone said the driver was three minutes away. You finished the trek to the entrance, stopping just before you knew you would be pushed back. Bobby paused, too, turning to look at you. The invisible barrier separated you now.

"I just want you to know that nothing you say will keep me from visiting," Bobby claimed, giving you a mischievous smile.

You smirked, "I'll hold you to it, Richter."

You could see the distant headlights of his ride. Bobby glanced behind him before looking at you with a solemn expression. You were saddened that he was leaving, but it was the safest thing he could do.

"I guess I'll see you around?" He asked.

You nodded, "I'll see you around..." you whispered.

Bobby grinned, before turning and walking down the path. The car was right down the road. Almost as an afterthought, you called out after him:

"Don't forget about me!"

Bobby stopped, swiveling around to gape at you. You stared back, feeling like you just offended him.

Bobby started towards you again, taking you by surprise when he grabbed your waist, pushing you back a few paces before kissing you. You were in shock, your hands up as you melted into him. It was short, but you missed the touch of another person. Bobby pulled back, looking down at you sadly.

"I'll never forget you, y/n," he whispered, and you watched as he slowly pulled back, heading to the car now idling feet away. You watched as he glanced at you from the window before he disappeared out of sight.

#bobby richter #bobby richter x reader #dandy mott x reader #ahs 1984 #ahs imagine #xavier plympton #montana duke #ray powell #chet clancy #bobby richter imagine

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kat0v01 · 4 years

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The Main six and MC as camper kids

Thank you @kyravecele for the request!

(I’ll add Portia and Nadia at a later time)

Asra:

On the surface, Asra was a very social child. He weaved in and out of friend groups, laughing and joking with the other kids easily. They all loved him and wanted to spend more time with him, but he politely declined their requests. You were also busy getting to know the other campers and wished to meet him too, but every time you looked for him, he was nowhere to be seen. One evening, you decided to take a break from the fun inside and lay down on the grass. As you laid there, you felt the excitement and activity of the day slowly melt away, and your eyelids grow heavy and droop. You woke up to a darkened sky and a hand nudging your arm. You turned your head and saw a child with a puffy white cloud for hair, curious purple eyes peering at you. You recognized him as Asra and said you were hoping to meet him. He smiled and said he was happy to meet you. You told him the other kids were wondering where he was all day and just now inside. He asked if you were wondering too and you quietly replied you were while blushing in embarrassment. He laughed at your reaction and explained that he wanted to be by himself for a while, but he also wanted to meet you; he just couldn’t get close because all the other kids wanted his attention as well. You asked why he wanted to spend time with you since he was already so popular and well- liked. He smiled and said he liked you and wanted to be your friend. You were amazed at his response and happily agreed to be his friend. The next morning, you both were a little under the weather from staying out late, so you huddled under blankets together talking and sharing stories all day.

Julian:

You met Julian while running around the campgrounds. Everyone decided to play a game of tag and Julian was it. As you were running, you heard a worried voice behind you telling you to slow down. Looking back, you saw it was Julian who was the only one behind you. All the other kids who you had been running with peeled away when they saw Julian coming. Gaining speed, you shouted that he’d never catch you when suddenly, your foot caught on something. You took one more glance behind you and saw Julian’s widened eyes and heard a shout that sounded like your name. You hit your head as you hit the ground and vaguely heard screams and yells for the camp counselor. As your eyes slowly closed, a mop of auburn hair popped into view before it went completely dark. When you woke up, you smelled the strong odor of antiseptic and saw a poster diagram of the human body. You realized you were in the nurse’s office. As you attempted to sit up, the same mop of auburn hair popped up and you heard Julian’s voice call for the nurse. You remembered visiting the nurse’s office one time for a band-aid and saw Julian there refilling the water tank. Julian walked over to you and put a hand on your shoulder, gently telling you to lay back down. You did as he said as the nurse walked into the room. She checked your vitals and explained that you tripped over the fire pit and sprained your ankle. She suggested you stay in the office for the next few days since the camp was waiting for some more crutches and she didn’t want you putting pressure on your injury. Just then, Julian piped up and said he could carry you back to your room or around the campgrounds until the crutches come. The nurse smiled and ruffled his hair saying it was a fine idea, but he should ask you if that was okay. Julian looked at you embarrassedly and blushed a red that rivaled his hair. You laughed and agreed which made Julian smile in relief. A little later, he carried you from the nurse’s office and back to your room. He said if there was anything you needed you could call on him. You thanked him and then asked why he was doing all of this. After all, it wasn’t his fault you were injured. Julian froze and blushed wildly. He stuttered that that didn’t matter and feel free to ask him for anything and he darted out of the room.

Muriel:

Sometimes, after breakfast, you’d spot a figure sitting alone against a tree. They were huddled over with their arms wrapped around their knees. Occasionally, Asra would stop by and sit next to the child, chatting quietly and their response a series of head nods or shakes. The conversation would last a few minutes with Asra always concluding by giving the child a quick hug and pat on the back before running off. One day, Asra saw you watching the child. He came over and nudged you with a smile. He gestured for you to walk over and said to call him Muriel. You walked over and quietly called Muriel’s name. The figure shifted a little in response but didn’t lift his head. You sat down nearby and introduced yourself. Muriel nodded in acknowledgement. You said you had wanted to say hi for some time, but you weren’t sure how to approach. You confessed that some early mornings, you saw him setting food out for the squirrels and you often wished to join him. At that, Muriel picked up his head. His eyes were wide and there was a rosy little blush on his cheeks. He replied that he wouldn’t mind the company, but it was so quiet, you had to lean in to hear him. You smiled and thanked him. You woke up at dawn the next morning. Peering out the window at the dim, orangey glow in the horizon, you saw a figure shuffle across the campground. Excited, you threw on a big sweater and sweats and tiptoed outside. You waved at Muriel as you walked towards him and he nodded in reply. Holding a bag of dried food out to you, you grabbed a handful and sprinkled some on the ground as Muriel did the same. A squirrel clambered quickly down the tree and feasted on the food. You and Muriel smiled at each other and continued to set out food until it was time for breakfast.

Lucio:

The first day of camp, Lucio was already bossing around the other kids. He came up with a “game” where he ordered them much like a king does with his subjects and the other kids, too exhausted by him to argue, decided to humor him for a while. When he saw you, he rushed over and handed you a flower. He nervously asked if you would like to play with him too. He even offered to let you be the ruler and he, a subject, for a while. You turned the invitation down, telling him that you had to finish unpacking, but you wouldn’t mind playing another time. Later in the week, you spotted Lucio by himself. When you asked him why he was alone, he glumly replied that no one wanted to play with him, but he didn’t know why. You suggested that it might be because he was bossing the other kids around. Lucio denied that being the reason and said this group needed a leader and he could do the job. You explained that the other kids would want to play with him if he was more himself. No one was looking for him to be a leader, but they were looking for a friend. You extended a hand to him and said you’d be his friend. He sniffled in response and furiously rubbed at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. He quietly asked if you’d play with him and when you agreed, he smiled toothily and let you pull him up to his feet. You both spent the rest of the day running around and playing until nightfall.

#arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcane game #the arcana #arcana muriel #arcana lucio #arcana asra #arcana julian #arcana scenarios

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sing-swan-spring-swan · 4 years

Text

kam & solinh, fairytale au style

hey, did i ever chuck the 13-page bullet-point-style fairytale au i wrote once on here? no? well we’re fixing that. kam, solinh, draws from various fairytale tropes but is mostly a mix of “beauty and the beast” and “sleeping beauty”. so!

the sencens live in a small rural town on the edge of a cursed wood. they're like, the town's pet nobles. sometimes they get messages from the council. the town thinks they're cool as heck, because nobles! they never get nobility all the way out here- but no one actually knows why they chose to live here.

it's because lady gisela did some Bad Stuff, actually. or she tried, and failed, but without enough evidence to prove it the council couldn't do anything, and lord cassius had enough clout to prevent her from most of the consequences but, of course, they subsequently moved because, y'know. not a good idea to be in close proximity to power structures you definitely defied.

so, keefe, cassius, and gisela live in this small rural town. keefe, despite being popular (see: nobles!) has exactly one actual friend, and her name is sophie. they are friends mainly because sophie took one look at keefe and went "you're chaotic neutral, aren't you" and keefe went "oh thank god all these people think i'm lawful good where do i get some mischief in this town"

it's not perfect. sophie hates being stuck in a little orphanage of a little town and knows she’s going to be basically nothing when she comes of age, keefe is basically stuck with his family, who exemplify a power structure he hates and can’t seem to change, but y'know, they're happy.

and then one night, when keefe is trying to turn sophie's hair purple, he sees his mother sneaking into the woods.

he leaves the hair dye and sneaks after her. in the woods, he sees lady gisela making some sort of deal with a demon- she offers it a vial of her son's blood and promises it sophie's life in exchange for power. (enough power to regain the sencens' influence and eventually take over the kingdom, with keefe as a puppet king, but keefe doesn't know that yet.)

so keefe, shocked by this, tries to run and reveals himself. lady gisela chases him and he flees, but he can't go to the town because sophie, so he's just crashing through the woods until he finds a castle, gets into it, slams the gates shut.

and then a voice behind him says "you really shouldn't have done that."

keefe screams. because it's a ghost! sort of a ghost. transparent enough to be a ghost.the ghost explains that now that he's here, he can't leave- the curse will keep him trapped. keefe's like, sure, what curse? and tries. he gets maybe three feet out before vines that definitely weren't there before crawl up from the forest and fling him bodily back into the castle.

"told you," the ghost says, then gestures to where keefe is now bleeding significantly, because thorns. "let's get those taken care of."

the ghost informs him that the castle is his to explore and that it will provide for him, but he should really never ever go up the stairs. one because those floors aren't really maintained, but two because the stairs aren't maintained either, and they'll probably collapse and kill him. keefe asks if that's how the ghost died. the ghost glares.

meanwhile- sophie hasn't seen keefe in three days. gisela says he's most likely exploring in the forest, what a shame, so dangerous, you know, but he's a hero at heart and he thinks he can save it and sophie thinks "nope, you know what, he's an idiot and i'm gonna go find that idiot"

so she goes into the forest, and she finds the castle, and she finds keefe, and keefe is like "sophie what the frick now you can't leave either"

sophie is . . . pretty chill about this, actually, because she didn't have much waiting for her in the town, but keefe is like "no this is actually a problem gisela is planning things and she's making deals and if you're here she can't fulfill them and i don't know what she's going to do, and also there are ghosts here"

"hi," says the ghost.

keefe introduces the ghost as tam and they give sophie a rundown of the curse and what's going on. tam repeats the "don't trust the stairs" thing and keefe and sophie Look at each other, because keefe is now healed enough to attempt sneakery and now they can do it together.

they wait a few days, and then they try the stairs. they go to the basement first, because the basement stairs look more solid and there are fewer of them.in the basement, they find a pool, large and wide and still. for a moment, there's no sound, and sophie begins to walk towards it.

and then a monster bursts from the surface.

"who invades this castle?" it screams, and its voice shakes the stone.

sophie, who is soaking wet and terrified, puts her hands up and tries to back away, before tam rushes up behind her.

"they're villagers! they're just villagers." he glances over at sophie and keefe. "foolish, stupid villagers who got lost and found this place. they're harmless."

tam approaches the monster and they talk, tam in a whisper, and the monster in a gravelly voice, like ocean tides, that sophie can't make words out of. the monster backs off, and tam storms towards them. he grabs them and starts dragging them towards the stairs, and then he glares until they start moving up the stairs ahead of him.

"what was that thing?" keefe asks, as they approach the ground floor.

"she," tam hisses, "is . . . the owner of this castle. she protects us."

"from what? the curse keeps you here."

no response.

". . . is she responsible for the curse? because if she is-"

"the curse protects us! from people like you! they would kill her, they killed me, and the curse keeps us safe. you were the ones stupid enough to come in!"

they walk the rest of the way in silence. when they get to the ground floor, tam says that they’ve already proven they won't listen to him if he tells them not to go to the tower, but he is asking them not to, as a basic kindness.

they don't see tam for the next few days. both keefe and sophie feel bad, but it's sophie that first decides "you know what, i'm gonna go apologize to the monster." keefe responds with "look, you're right but tam got so angry last time. maybe this is a bad idea." they think for a moment, and then sophie's like "what if we write a letter?"

the castle provides for them, at least, so finding paper and ink isn't too hard. they write a letter and decide that sophie will deliver it.

sophie goes down with the letter and is planning to just leave it there but surprise! monster, who asks her what she's holding. sophie explains about the letter, the monster asks sophie to read it to her since, you know, claws and things make paper a Challenge. sophie feels painfully awkward but she does, and the monster thanks her and apologizes in turn for her reaction when they entered. as sophie leaves. she promises they'll find a way out, and leave the two alone.

meanwhile, keefe, who is going a Little Bit Crazy here waiting for sophie, goes looking for tam. he finds tam, the two kind of- end up in a standoff for a bit, until keefe, who has no better ideas, asks if tam knows how to cook. tam does not- the castle has always provided for them. keefe takes tam into the kitchen and shows him how to make mallowmelt. neither of them are very good at it, and also tam sometimes phases through physical things, but they get a sort of mallowmelt that is a little burnt but still very sweet and very good.

tam comes in the next day and tells sophie that "she wants to see you." there's only one other being in the whole castle, so sophie and tam go down to the basement. tam lingers, before sophie says it's okay, and then he lingers a little longer until the monster gives what's probably a nod.

"i'm not going to eat you," the monster says. she very well could- those fangs are proof enough- but.

"i didn't think you were," sophie says.

the monster explains that the curse is magic, complicated, confusing magic, that even she doesn't understand, but if sophie wants to get out of it then she'll probably need what the monster knows.

sophie pauses.

"i thought you cast it," she says.

". . . yes, but i don't know how." "can it be broken?"

"you're not breaking the curse," the monster says, and there's a snarl to her voice.

"no, that's not what i meant, just- if you knew a way to break it maybe we could alter that to just- pause it temporarily? so keefe and i could leave?"

"oh. no, i don't know how to break it."

"okay," sophie says, and then she goes and gets paper and ink, and the monster tells her everything she knows.

when they're done, she looks at her pages of notes, and then she looks at the monster, but it doesn't feel right to keep calling her that.

"do you have a name?"

the monster pauses. and then she says, "linh. and you're sophie?"

"i- yes. how did you know that?"

linh gives what might be a laugh.

"you said it in your letter."

"oh. right."

"sophie. it's a pretty name."

"thank you," sophie says, and then, "so is linh."

she does that sort-of laugh thing again. "i'll see you tomorrow, sophie."

two days later, when keefe and sophie head into the kitchen, there is another plate of mallowmelt on the counter, and keefe does not know if that's the castle's doing or tam's (or if they're the same). it tastes a little weird, and keefe assumes, since tam can’t actually eat, he was guessing at the flavor, but it’s good. it feels like approval, too, which gives keefe the confidence to ask if tam knows how to make dye. he does.

they make dye. they also stain the kitchen, and keefe's hair, and for a moment keefe forgets that tam is non-corporeal and tries to put finely chopped cabbage in his hair. there's a moment of awkwardness, before keefe pouts about it not being fair and knows he's succeeded when tam laughs.

they get one of the squirrels that lives on the castle grounds and dye its fur multiple colors. the squirrel, to its credit, seems to be enjoying the whole thing.

at some point, probably late one night, tam asks where he learned to do all this, and keefe tells him that he mostly uses it to play pranks on people, back in the town.

"geez," tam says. "your parents let you get away with all that?"

"ah," keefe says, "no. they don't. they're actually, uh . . . kind of terrible."

there's a moment.

"i'm sorry."

"no, don't be. i mean, it's normal, right?"

"no," tam says, vehemently. "it's not, and it shouldn't be."

keefe looks at him. "were yours kind of terrible too?"

". . . yeah.”

"i mean. you don't have to tell me, but what happened?"

there's a pause, as tam looks at his hands.

"i'm a twin. my sister was born first, by about five minutes, so she was technically crown princess, but she had . . . magic. a lot of it."

"isn't that a good thing?"

"she wasn't- it was a lot. and they never taught her how to control it, they just expected her to, and when she couldn't, they made me the heir. and i fought it, so they fought me, and eventually they sent us . . . here."

"and then people attacked. and they killed you." keefe says, and tam nods.

"i'm . . ." keefe looks for something better and doesn't find it. "sorry."

"yeah, well. what happened to you?"

"my dad hates me, and, uh, my mom tried to feed my blood to a demon."

tam winces. "well. at least they can't get to us here?"

"yeah," keefe says, and then he tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling. "nobility, am i right?"

"nobility," tam replies, and the air feels lighter.

so linh and sophie and tam and keefe just kinda! hang out in the castle together! and bond! and they work on fixing the curse so keefe and sophie can leave

there’s one conversation when they’re all working together where sophie brings up the concept of “true love”. It sounds silly to her, but there’s mentions in the text of it being really powerful magic.

“of course,” linh says. “all the best spells draw on love.”

“and all the worst,” tam adds.

for a moment, they just look at each other, and then linh sighs and turns back to sophie. she explains that while love is an extremely powerful magic, it is also one that tends to be uncontrollable. magic born out of love is extremely strong- it can overcome most other magical forces and constructions in the world, and there are stories about it performing what are essentially miracles- but it's not really the kind of thing where the outcome can be predicted. so, since both tam and linh are insistent that keefe and sophie not break the curse, it’s not a viable route. keefe and sophie agree, and they get back to work.

also at some point in this they start a girls vs. boys prank war and they have fun and everything is fine for a little while

but of course, you know, they keep talking, and keefe and sophie are starting to put it together. and at one point, when they're all down in the basement and it's quiet, sophie asks, "were you two siblings?"

tam and linh look at her.

"i just thought- if we want the best chance of getting keefe and i out, we need as much information as we can get. and we still don't know what happened to cause this curse."

"we haven't been snooping," keefe says, quickly. "you've just said some stuff, and we just been thinking.”

linh looks at tam. tam takes a breath. "alright. come with me."

he leads them up the tower. they climb flights of stairs, before they are stopped by a thicket of thorns.

"oh, i didn't- i don't know if you can get through."

but keefe steps up, and the thorns pull back, revealing a passage.

"well," tam says, quietly. "that's new."

the passage leads to a room. in it is a single body, resting on a dais, surrounded by thorns.

it's tam: the same clothes, same hair, same face. the only difference is the broken arrows, three of them, lodged in the body's still-breathing chest.

"this is why you can't break the curse," tam says.

"it's keeping you alive," sophie breathes.

"barely."

keefe takes a step closer to the body.

"i thought you were a ghost," he says.

"i am, really. but i'm not dead. just . . . sleeping."

they leave the room and go back down to linh, and together linh and tam explain that when they were attacked and tam was killed, linh felt it. her magic exploded and twisted around the castle, creating the thorns and the lake. it saved tam's life, but it came at the cost of her body, turning her into what she is.

sophie and keefe leave tam, who clearly needs a little space, alone with linh. the next day, keefe makes mallowmelt and presents it to tam, who, while not necessarily able to eat it, smiles at him anyway.

they keep working, but now they're looking- or at least, sophie and keefe are looking- for two things: a way to get out and a way to heal tam. it's unlikely they'll find anything linh and tam haven’t, but they still try.

but.

sophie has been missing for weeks now, and lady gisela, back in the village, still needs her and keefe. so she convinces the demon to give her enough power to find them, and she discovers the castle, and she creates a plan.

she goes to the leaders of the town, and in front of them, she starts to weep. apparently, her son has gone missing, and she knows where he's been taken- into the cursed wood, by the beast that lives in the castle. she produces a torn letter with a sketch of it, horribly monstrous, and she convinces the town to go into the woods and kill the beast.

the people of the village launch an attack, and linh and tam are unprepared and overwhelmed. they tell keefe and sophie to hide.

"what are you going to do?" sophie asks.

and linh rises out of the lake, water pouring off her in rivers.

"fight," she says.

"i'm not letting you go alone."

linh looks at her for a long, long moment, before she bends her head to sophie.

"then get on."

before keefe runs off with tam, he says, very quickly, "they're good people. not all of them. not my parents. but there are good people in the village."

linh nods, and sophie dips with the movement.

"we'll be careful. now go."

sophie and linh fight the mob, led by lord cassius. linh's strong, but in her current form her magic is weak, and there's too many of them- sophie keeps them off of linh as best she can, but they're just two people, linh hasn't fought in ages, and they're trying to pull their punches.

they hold them off for as long as they can, but it's not enough. they overwhelm linh. they pull sophie off her back, and lady gisela, who is smart, grabs her and holds a knife to her neck.

"stop," she says. "or the girl dies."

linh goes still.

"linh, no," sophie begs, but she does not move, does not look away from sophie even as lord cassius lifts his sword and stabs into the soft flesh just behind her head.

they take rope. they tie sophie to linh's body as she sobs.

"spread out. search the castle. find my son, at any cost."

"he's not yours," sophie cries, as the mob scatters.

lord cassius looks at her, once, and then he turns away.

keefe and tam, in the tower, hear the noises downstairs, the sudden silence that means nothing good.

"do you know how to use a sword?" tam asks.

keefe nods.

tam reaches into the darkness by the thorns and pulls out a sword, shadows curling off the edges. keefe stares, open-mouthed.

"my sister wasn't the only one with magic," tam says, smiling, before he glances at his body. "i think- if i do too much, it'll break this, and kill me, but i can give you this."

and just then, the thorns curl back as if burned, and lady gisela enters the room.

"keefe,” she says, reaching for him. “come back. stop this, come home with me. i did this for you, you know. i'll give you power. you'll be able to change the world. isn't that what you always wanted?"

"i don't want anything from you," he says, and swings.

keefe's good with a sword but he's never had to use it in combat before. and what's more, gisela trained him. gisela knows how he fights. and for all that he is in danger, he doesn't want to kill his mom.

the sword is helping him, pushing force behind his strikes and blocking attacks with its wisps of shadow, but it's not enough to beat gisela. he manages to fight her to a standstill, sword pressed up against her shield of flickering power, but it's taking all keefe's strength to do that.

"you'll see," gisela says, gathering power in her other hand. "i'll take you with me, and you'll do great things."

keefe shakes his head, but there's nothing he can do to stop her.

then he hears, "kiss me before i die, okay?"

and just as gisela raises her hand, the sword explodes.

when the darkness fades, lady gisela is unconscious. the only sounds in the room are that of keefe's heavy breathing, and behind him, the rattling, raspy breaths of a dying body, on the dais behind him.

keefe turns, and sees blood.

tam is back in his body. tam, who knew it would kill him, who did it anyway to keep keefe from his mother.

kiss me before i die, okay?

he wants tam to be awake for this. he wants to stumble over a confession, and he wants tam to shut him up, and he wants tam to kiss him back. but if this is all he gets, then. well. nothing’s fair. this is the least he can do.

keefe leans in.

sophie leans against linh's body. the water is cold but linh is still warm and she thinks of the last time they did this, when sophie fell asleep in the basement and linh curled around her to make her comfortable. she thinks of waking up to a smile that was all teeth and fangs and somehow, still soft and kind. she thinks of what she wanted to say, then.

"i love you," she whispers, to someone who can't hear her anymore.

and linh's body begins to glow.

up in the tower, keefe kisses tam, just once, quick and gentle. when he pulls away, tam's body is still, and keefe pretends he doesn't notice the tears that drip onto tam's face.

but then something catches the corner of his eye, and he looks up.

all around him, the thorns are blooming into dark purple roses, shining at the edges of their petals with a strange light. he looks to tam's chest, where the shafts of the arrows are growing, twisting together before they, too, burst into bloom, and dissipate into petals.

the blue glow around linh's body gets stronger, and brighter, until it hurts sophie's eyes, but she doesn't look away. around her, she hears, faintly, shouting, but it can't seem to reach her. the light twists, turns, and then the ropes go slack. in her arms is a girl, thin and pale, with waist-long black hair and torn clothes.

her eyes blink open, grey-blue. she smiles, and sophie knows her, even without the teeth.

"linh," she says.

"i heard you."

sophie reaches for her hand and laces their fingers together. linh looks at it in wonder, as if she's forgotten what it felt like, to have hands.

"ready?" sophie asks.

"always," linh says, and then, as the mob approaches, she raises her voice. "i am princess linh of exilium. this is my kingdom, and you are going to leave."

sophie calls on all linh’s shown her about magic, on the glowing thing at the center of her chest, and together, they pull.

the petals fall, gently, to tam's chest. the arrows are gone. so is the wound.

"keefe?" says a shaky, familiar voice.

he looks back. tam's eyes are open.

"you idiot," he says. "you died."

"you saved me," tam tells him, and keefe, helplessly, has no clever response to that.

"i love you," he says, instead.

"i love you too."

and then the ground beneath them starts to rumble. keefe glances around them, worried, but tam laughs, once, bright and wondering.

"that's my sister. that's linh. she's back."

the lake washes through the castle. it sweeps up the villagers, the swords, the weapons. it washes into the tower and takes the dais and lady gisela with it. keefe scoops tam into his arms and they walk down, untouched by the raging current, as tam lifts a hand and starts to pull the last of the demon’s shadows from gisela and the villagers that pass them. they twist around each other, before dissipating into nothing but harmless wisps.

sophie and linh are there, in the foyer, hands clasped at the center of it all, as the waters curl and turn around them.

"can i kiss you?" sophie says, half breathless.

and linh leans in, and in the center of a bright blue whirlpool, kisses her.

#if you read all of this i love you #thank you and i hope you enjoyed!#kotlc #kotlc au #sophie foster #linh song #keefe sencen #tam song #solinh #kam #fairytale au #this is- maybe the first au i EVER came up with for kotlc #i think i might have started posting about it a few years but it's changed substantially since then #but- it's done now. i've made it into something #proud of that #anyway hope you enjoyed!

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valzhangism · 4 years

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attention everyone!! popular dream team writer @qekyo took my quiz under the alias ‘anti queer george’, which in itself is already a wild offense to me and my personal beliefs!

but if it were not heinous enough, she also pasted the entire bee movie script into the free text question, seen under the cut. we cannot let a monster as cruel as this roam free in our dtblr. please, i beg of you. unfollow and boycott. with your help, we could make this a ness qekyo-free tumblr. thank you.

Bee Movie Script - Dialogue Transcript 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.

#/j #this whole thing is a /j #love u ness #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #dreamnotfound #sapnap #mcyt #qekyo #dreamteam #dream team #george truthing #kind of #call out post <3 #warning the script is very fucking long #it made my pc lag so bad

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