#i loaded up all of my animals and then we hit the highway.

[swagging-back-to]

had an apocalypse dream last night. a super long and detailed one too. havent had one in a long time.

[mischiefnevermanaged89-blog]

Gotta Be Somebody-Part 10

Angel Reyes X Reader

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As I began to climb on the back in Angel’s bike, I noticed his kutte. My eyes went wide.

“Hold the fuck up!” I yelled. Everyone turned to look at me. I hit his back. “When did this happen?”

They all laughed. Dad was the first to speak.

“We patched him in last week. After I come back from meeting with you and Nestor. I knew he’d do anything for this club and especially you and I wanted him beside me if any shit went down. It was a mutual agreement.”

“Kid’s shown a lot of guts lately being the middle man with everything. We knew he would do fine.” Hank spoke next.

I scoffed. “Well damn. You get patched before me. You lucky some bitch.” I teased.

“Sorry, amor.” He smiled and kissed my head.

“Yeah yeah. Let’s just go home.” I smiled.

We all loaded up and all at once the beautiful sound of motors filled the air.

Angel pulled me close to him as we sped down the highway, dad and Hank flanking him on either side and Marcus riding in front of us. They wanted to make sure I was protected until I got home.

Once we hit town, Angel broke off from everyone and drove me to my apartment. Once there, I sighed in relief and immediately started stripping off my dingy clothes on the way to the bathroom. Behind me I could hear Angel chuckling.

I turned to shower on as hot as it would go and stepped under. A moan left my lips and my body relaxed at the feeling of finally having a hot shower. I stood there for what felt like hours before I began scrubbing myself raw to get every ounce of dirt, sweat and blood off. When I was satisfied I was clean, I turned the water off and stepped out. Laying on the sink was a fresh towel and clothes. I smiled as I dried off and got dressed.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting forever for you to get out here to eat.” Angel said dramatically as he took containers out of a brown paper bag.

“Oh shut it Reyes.” I slapped his shoulder as I walked up. My eyes lit up at the food. “Oh you do love me! Chinese takeout and pizza!” I kissed him before I piled my plate full and sat down.

I groaned as the wonderful tastes hit my tongue. Angel couldn’t do anything but laugh at me.

“Hey. You try being out there for months living off of can foods half heated and dead animals cooked over a fire. This is fucking heaven.” I said with a mouthful.

He threw his hands up. “I didn’t say anything.“ He looked at me and gave me a sly smirk as we ate.

“I know that look. I know when you’re up to something, A.”

He shook his head. “I’m not up to anything, crazy. I’m just glad to have you back.” He reached over and took my hand. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” I squeezed his hand. “Now, let’s clean this up and go sit on the balcony with some beer and talk. I want to know everything that’s happened since I’ve been gone.”

Angel nodded and we cleaned up. Once everything was clean and put away, Angel grabbed us a beer each and we went to the balcony. I smiled when I seen he had already put me a blanket and pillow on the outdoor sofa and had a candle lit. I smiled as he sat and took my hand, pulling me down beside him.

I cuddled up next to him, tucking my feet under me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. We talked for hours about everything I missed. He told me about Filipe finally hiring some help at the store and about EZ getting more time added to his sentence for attempting to kill a guard.

I told him about my time with Adelita and her group. How I spent my nights and how I had a notebook full of letters to him I’d write every night.

“It’s late, amor. Why don’t you go get some sleep. You need it.” Angel said to me as I yawned.

“Yeah. Will you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone my first night back home.”

“Yeah. Of course.” He said softly.

He followed me to my room and I pulled the blankets back, patting the spot beside me when I laid down. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed in beside me. I immediately wrapped myself around him and let out a sigh.

“I missed this the most. Being able to cuddle up next to you. Knowing I was safe if I fell asleep.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Yeah. Me, too, querida.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Angel

It didn’t take her long before she was asleep. I wrapped my arms around her tighter and took her in. For the last few months I’ve missed having her with me. If things went my way, soon I will have her with me all the time. I kissed the top of her head again and closed my eyes.

When I woke, (Y/N) wasn’t in bed. I jumped up and ran in search of her. I sighed with relief when I seen her at the stove. I ran my hand through my hair and walked up behind her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my face in her neck.

“Good morning, amorcito.” She giggled and reached behind her to caress my face.

“You scared me. I woke up to you not beside me. I thought you’d have slept longer.”

“I slept enough. I guess being out there and waking up at a certain time still hasn’t left me. I wanted to make you breakfast before we started our day.”

I kissed her neck; she leaning her head back on me as I did. A soft moan leaving her lips as I made my way up. My arms tightened around her, snaking their way under my shirt she had on. Her hand made its way to my head, her nails scraping at my scalp, making me moan in turn.

She reached out in front of her to turn off the stove then turned to face me. Her hands making their way up my chest, mine down her back to her ass, picking her up.

Our lips met in a heated kiss, and damn it felt good. I licked her bottom lip, asking permission, which she greedily agreed to. The kiss got deeper and more heated. Her nails dug into my scalp and back, my hands running further under her shirt.

Suddenly a knock came at the door, bringing us back to earth.

“Yo! Chica! Open up!”

“Fuckin Coco.” I whispered.

“Asshole. Maybe he’ll go away.” (Y/N) said in a low voice.

“Come on now! I know you’re in there. I know Angel is here, too. We need you down at the clubhouse.”

She let out a groan. “I just got back and already being needed.” She let her self down from my grasp and stomped to the door.

She slung it open to see a smug looking Coco on the other side. “What is so damn important down at the clubhouse you have to come banging at nine in the morning?”

“Your dad sent me to get you. There’s some important stuff we need to talk about.” Coco pushed his way in the door.

(Y/N) growled before stomping away to her room, slamming the door shut.

I looked at Coco who was leaned against the kitchen counter, picking at the bacon that was sitting there, taking a bite.

I scoffed and shook my head. “Fuckin’ cock block.”

Coco laughed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: here yall go!!! I finally finished it! Well…not the story but this part haha! We still got one maybe 2 more to go!! Hope yall like it!!

@ravennaortiz

@spnaquakindgdom

@meera10

[countrymusiclover]

12 - Baby Number Three

Part 13

The Texas Tire Family

Tags just ask - @supernaturalgirl30 @bvbwestfall @bubble-blu @patriciaplictisita @liesanddreams

"Urgh...Georgie call an...ambulance...it's the baby I think...something's wrong!" He squeezed my hand grabbing his phone frantically trying to dial 911.

Gripping my stomach I take a few deep breaths feeling pain shooting through my lower back. Georgie was slamming on the gas trying to get the truck through the busy city streets but this wasn’t like Medford. “Come on. Move it dang it!”

“Georgie, yelling at them isn’t going to - oh fix it!” I winced, bending forward baring my teeth together. Somehow this felt exactly like how my last few months of Aurora’s pregnancy was. But this feels like double the pain of that.

“Darlin don’t you worry. I’m gonna get you to the hospital and everything's gonna be fine…uh.” He glanced in my direction moving his left hand to my knee for a second getting an idea that hopefully would work. He started turning the channels on the radio until the song he was looking for came on. “Life's like a road that you travel on. When there's one day here, and the next day gone. Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand. Sometimes you turn your back to the wind. There's a world outside every darkened door. Where blues won't haunt you anymore. Where the brave are free and lovers soar. Come ride with me to the distant shore…”

“Life is a Highway from Cars…Georgie how is that supposed to help!” I grunted hitting the windseal with my fist wanting the pain in my stomach to go away. The baby kicks we’re getting bigger so that wasn’t making it any better.

He intertwined my freehand with his lefts even though he was left so he was driving with his non-dominant hand. His brown eyes locked onto mine for a brief second then he focused back on the road. “Cause when Rora was like four she loved this song. So I was thinkin’ that this would distract you to think about that.”

“Awe thanks ah!…oh I think it is working.” Shutting my eyes I leaned my head back against the headrest listening to the song praying that the baby was going to be fine.

Coming inside our apartment I was exhausted from work seeing that I had to deal with some rude customers at the restaurant. Dropping my bag at the door I closed it hearing a sneeze from Aurora’s bedroom. Georgie had stayed home to watch her seeing that I would be on maternity leave in a few months anywhere. “Georgie, how’s she doing. Any better?”

“Her fever has went down. But she has been whining all day to watch Cars with ya. I’m gonna go pick up Eve from daycare.” He carried her in his arms coming out of the room handing her to me since I was sitting on the couch.

She hugs her stuffed animal version of Lightning McQueen to her chest while I draped a blanket over us turning the tv on. “Oh I’m sorry my baby. Momma’s here now.”

I whispered seeing her face change to a smile when she started singing the words. And to my surprise it was a hundred percent correct. “We won't hesitate. To break down the garden gate. There's not much time left today, yeah. Life is a highway. I wanna ride it all night long. If you're goin' my way. Well, I wanna drive it all night long.”

“Through all these cities and all these towns. It's in my blood, and it's all around. I love you now like I loved you then. This is the road, and these are the hands. From Mozambique to those Memphis nights. The Khyber Pass to Vancouver's lights. Knock me down and back up again. You're in my blood, I'm not a lonely man.” I started singing alongside. She pretended to drive McQueen up in the air until she had to cough into my shirt, never dropping the smile on her little face.

We had finished the whole movie now watching the movie credits until the song came back on so I pulled my daughter up to her seeing that she was feeling better when I gave her chicken soup. “There's no load I can't hold. A road so rough, this I know. I'll be there when the light comes in. Just tell 'em we're survivors. Life is a highway. I wanna ride it all night long (whoo!). If you're goin' my way. I wanna drive it all night long (all night long)” Unknown to us Georgie had returned with Evelyn who ran over to join in our little dance party in the living room. Georgie took my hand in his holding Aurora’s other hand before the four of us were dancing around the apartment.

Georgie jumped out of the truck rushing inside the hospital waiting room coming outside with a nurse and a wheelchair helping me into it. Death gripping the handles I threw my head back seeing that he was walking right beside us while we found a room. “Georgie…”

“I'm right here, honey.” He squeezed my hand in his unit and we got inside a room where he lifted me bridal style onto the bed. He moved his hand up pushing hair from my eyes once I was laying down.

The doctor came inside the room not really sure of what to tell us since the history of my other pregnancies wasn’t in their system. They were back in our home town and it would take time before they would be sent over. “Mrs. Cooper, I have contacted your local hospital and we are waiting on the history records. But we will check your blood pleasure and everything that we can now.”

“What is that look for….what’s wrong please tell us?” A nurse put a finger reader on my left hand seeing that oxygen was normal along with everything else. But I saw concerns cross her face making me grip my husband’s hand tightly.

She called over her shoulder rushing out into the hallway. “Doctor, we have to tell them now!”

“Mr and Mrs. Copper, I hate to tell you this but the baby is currently in distress. According to the X-ray we did, the umbilical cord is wrapping around the baby, so we are going to have to rush you into surgery for a c-section.” The doctor entered the room again where I covered my mouth thinking I might puke from how bad that sounded.

Georgie lifted his head up trying to process what he just said. “Can you give us a minute alone, really quick. I need to be with her.” The doctor shut the door leaving us alone.

“Georgie, it’s happening just like when we had Rora. I mean what are we going to do... I’m scared.” I whispered wrapping my arms around him where he pulled me in for a short hug.

He broke the embrace resting a hand to my cheek while I was crying at the thought. I didn’t want to lose this baby considering I was so confident that it was a boy. I had also not lost a baby yet. “Hey look at me Y/n. You are going to get through this you hear me. You are the strongest person I know so we are going to have this beautiful baby inside you, I love you,”

“I love you too, Georgie.” I croaked out in tears wrapping my arms around him once more hearing the nurses come back and roll me back into surgery. I had no clue how long it had been by the time I woke up but I squinted my eyes open seeing that I was back in another hospital room. I had an iv in my left hand before I lifted up the blanket noticing that my stomach was no longer big like it was when I came in here.

The door got pushed open where I moaned attempting to sit up seeing Georgie bolt over to my bedside crying happy tears. “Thank god Y/n…I was so worried when they kept you in there longer than I cared for.”

“Oh Georgie…” Wrapping my arms around his neck I winced where I had to lay back down feeling some slight pain in my back and in between my legs. “Georgie, where's the baby. What happened during the surgery?”

He broke the hug sitting in the chair at my bedside making me shiver at his silence. That wasn’t a good sign where I stiffened my back against the pillows. I knew if we lost the baby I would feel so bad. “You can’t see him yet but he made it. I uh - named him while you were still asleep.”

“It’s actually a boy. What’s…his name?” Covering my mouth with my hands I started sobbing happily.

Georgie intertwined my hands with his smiling up at me. “Montana George Cooper.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[theoriginalmarke]

SUNDAY SUMMATIONS

Kitten is better today. We went to an Urgent Care but that one had no doctor, so we went to another one. After an hour they told her that they couldn't treat her, she needed to go to an ER.

I have to admit, I miss Santa Barbara's healthcare system. There, Urgent Care is set up to take the load off hospital emergency rooms and can do most things they can. Here, we're not quite sure what an Urgent Care does or why they exist.

Anyway, we took her to the ER. A different one from last week's adventures. She was given a cocktail of migraine relieving drugs and hooked up to an IV. An hour or so later she was ready to go home.

She hadn't been able to eat with the migraine so she was starving. We stopped at a little burger joint called the Sandlot that reminded me a lot of In-N-Out. Instead of a Double Double I had a Two-N-Two. I wouldn't be surprised if they have a secret menu with Animal Fries.

Her mom is much better though not at full strength and her memory is hit and miss right now.

My mom's Persian cat Rocky passed away yesterday. She's had him 17 years or so. He was a sweet boy. All cats think they are royalty, but Persians KNOW they are royalty.

I dropped our neighbors off at the airport yesterday afternoon. O'Hare traffic is crazy, but not as crazy as the highways here. Even worse was the traffic in downtown Rosemont next to the airport. They have a big convention center there, a big fashion outlet mall, and cops blocking traffic for pedestrians. It's a mess.

There's also a baseball stadium that is currently hosting a big light festival. It's $24 admission, and another $22 to use the ice slide. Or for 70 bucks you get an all access pass, including an all you can eat and drink buffet. Bring the whole family!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go argue with the dog. She swears she hasn't been fed but she's lying again.

I love you, baby. I'm glad you're feeling better. MWAH!

Y'all have a great day.

[gwaindrifter]

I just realized I don't think I've told the story of the time I came close to experiencing absolute madness.

This was a couple of years ago, when me and my now fiancé @imnotactuallyamermaid were on a road trip to the southwest, to visit Meowwolf and some state parks, for our anniversary. Things had been going great. We had good driving conditions and had been keeping the gas tank topped up pretty regularly. We'd been passing the time listening to The Magnus Archives(which, in retrospect, may have contributed some to our state of mind going into this event). All in all, a pretty normal experience. Then we left Kansas and into the panhandle of Oklahoma. Or as I have dubbed it, the land God forgot to load.

Now, before we even got into Oklahoma, we made a pretty big error. We decided to pass up the last gas station we saw leaving Kansas. That would be the last open gas station we'd see until New Mexico. Every single one we passed was closed and looked like they had been since the 90s. Everything we passed on the highway was closed. The towns we passed didn't even look inhabited.

And there were no other signs of life. Not a single car passed us on the road. For that 166 mile stretch, not another soul to be seen. Not even a soul to be heard, as there was no radio signal we could find, and cell service dropped out almost entirely. There's no animal life either, and barely any vegetation.

A vast emptiness. The topography did not change in the slightest; not a hill or dip in sight. The road did not curve, just carried on straight out past the horizon. There wasn't even a cloud in the sky, just perfect clear blue. And of course, we were driving into the sun.

The first half hour was alright. We listened to one more episode of the magnus archives until I lost cell service. The sky was pretty, I'd never seen it so clear. Nothing felt a miss. Then, the dread began to set in.

It started with just the feeling of needing stop. Get gas, fresh drinks, stretch our legs. We saw a sign for a town ahead. 30 miles. A little far for our taste, but doable. We drove on. By now, there was nothing on the radio. And not a car in sight. We felt alone. But that's okay, we'll hit this town soon. Civilization, people. But we were wrong.

We rolled into this town, and not a soul in sight. But we could see the gas station, so there was salvation. Dashed against the rocks. Closed, and the last price per gallon was a buck and change. There was nothing here and hadn't been in ages. So we drove on. Maybe the next town. But it was always the same story.

Now we were an hour in, and we were starting to crack. I'd finally realized I had a playlist downloaded to my phone, so at least we had the company of music again, as little comfort as that gave. The sun was becoming unbearable, with no reprieve. Time was starting to dissolve. I couldn't tell if I'd been driving for an hour or ten. It didn't matter. It felt like we were never getting out of there. We'd somehow taken the exit ramp right off of reality.

You know how in movies, when someone's losing their mind, they start to laugh? That's real. It's a nervous chuckle, really, but it happens. At least it happened to me. Laughing and muttering. Raving about being forsaken by God. That his light did not touch this land, despite how much the sun shined, right into my eyes. Really wild stuff coming from an agnostic pagan. But sometimes you revert to old beliefs.

This carried on for another hour, and all the while, real trouble was rearing its head. 166 miles is a ways to take a Kia Soul on just a half tank of gas. We really weren't sure if we were going to make it out of this. On top of that, we were getting hungry. And tired, not having switched drivers this whole time. All of this was taking its toll. We were both a hair from snapping.

Finally, a sign of salvation. 30 miles to New Mexico. A glimmer of hope. It was the only thing we could think or talk about. A chance of a gas station. Refuel. The opportunity to stretch our legs and switch drivers. Hot food and cold drink. Restrooms. It was the light at the end of the tunnel. An incredibly bright tunnel.

When we crossed that border and saw not just a gas station, but a truck stop, it was almost enough to make one cry tears of relief. 2 and a half hours of bright, vast, nothingness finally come to an end. We had been saved. We filled our car and our bellies. And in no time at all, we were in the majesty of the New Mexico desert, her beauty all around us, and the desolation of Oklahoma a distant memory. Civilization returned, and with it, people, and radio, and cell service. All was back to normal.

Until a few days later when we drove through the Vail Pass in a blizzard, but that's a story for another time.

[dogvio]

a rabies scare that shook my town

Living next to the highway has always been troublesome for me and the family. Trucks and cars rolling through always rattled the roof and even woke me up sometimes in the middle of the night. Although, that wasn’t really what troubled me. I was more worried about the stretch of woods across the highway. 

Tall pines. Everywhere. Hell, I’ve been in there a lot with my dad but I’ve never wanted to be in there when the sun had already set. Get caught in there by 7pm? Pitch Black. Maybe your chances would be better with a high-powered torch but I never stuck around to find out. 

Grandpa would tell me about the animals in there too. We don’t really get bears around here, thank God, but wolves? Yup. The sounds of trucks scare ‘em off a lot but some get ballsy enough to cross the highway. Yeah you bet animal control is always on speed dial for us then. 

Though dad tells me he can handle it himself with a loaded .22. And give mom a heart attack? No thanks dad.

Things got a little weird toward the middle of September that year. I don’t really remember much of the newscast then but it was something about a rabies outbreak. Of course, people got a little on edge especially the folks who lived near the edge of the rest. People got weary about racoons and stray dogs spreading diseases and all.

Mom and Dad started putting on trail cameras around our property and even had motion detecting lights installed. We were pretty much set. 

I remember my grandpa being an absolute dweeb telling us there’s a bunch of dogmen - werewolves or even the chupacabra out there. Looking back at it now? That old coot was actually freaking right. Or at least, I thought he was. 

One bad night was enough to rattle all of us. There was a thunderstorm that knocked out the power in town and of course, mom and dad were quick to gather us in the living room. We had a generator, yes, but who in their right mind would walk out in the pouring rain with a torch barely able to light the way? Answer: my dad.

I didn’t wanna go out there but I also wanted to make sure my dad didn’t hurt himself. And where to begin with that literal shitstorm. It was raining so hard that we had to raise our voices a bit just so we could hear each other. Even in our coats, I could feel myself getting drenched by the second. 

It felt like forever before we made it to the generator shed. It wasn’t a 5-star hotel for us but definitely enough to keep the generator dry during times like this. We’d usually find stuff like possums and some birds taking shelter here during bad weather.

Something was wrong though. The shed would usually be shut before we’d get to it but the door was open. Didn’t seem like anyone was there. Dad went in with a torch in hand and looked for the crank to the generator. I followed in after a bit but a really horrible smell stopped me at the door. What smelled like a wet dog in the shed? 

Actually. 

What smelled like a wet dog and dead animal at the same time?

I tried to bounce the torch light in the shed just to get a good look. Rain on the shed’s roof was loud and the brief flashes of lightning filled the little cracks in the wood boards. 

Then dad stopped my hand. 

Something was in the shed with us. 

To one corner. To that one dark corner, I saw it. Hunched over a dead animal. It was uncomfortably contorted and I swear I could hear it chewing through bone and flesh. It was huge. We couldn’t move but no way in hell were we going to end up like that thing on the ground. 

My dad was slowly heading out the door, nodding towards the direction of the house and using his hand to herd me out. And then “THUMP”. My boot hit the door and I could’ve sworn that that thing’s head just snapped in our direction. 

Dad slammed the door behind him and pushed me toward the house. 

We ran like hell.

It howled. Or whatever that noise was. Like a cross between an animal and person screaming. 

It seemed like forever again. The lightning flashes were blinding and the sound of the thunder made it impossible to know if that thing was chasing us or not. 

We made it to the house. I got in first and my dad immediately locked the doors and shut the windows. No one was allowed to sleep in a separate room that night. Our family slept in the living room. My dad had a gun at the ready and we kept switching watches - just me and him. Mom had my little sisters in a blanket with her. 

The rain stopped at 1 am in the morning. Sometimes I’d doze off. 

Then I’d see it. 

I didn’t have the balls to go near the window just to move the curtains but I could see it. Still uncomfortably hunched. Its eyes glowing with a reddish glint.

Was that foam? Or saliva by its mouth? 

And the scent. God. That strong pungent smell.

It would step near the window for a bit. Taking in the air and I could feel my heart jump to my throat, trying not to make a sound that could make it burst through the window. 

I saw my dad raise up his shotgun - but even in the dark, I could see him shaking nervously at the sight of that thing. 

It kept doing the same thing for the rest of the night. 

Then it left. 

For the next few weeks, the town was on high alert. Sightings of large “dogmen” creatures were buzzing here and there. 

It made me think about a lot of things. Like moving out. Having to protect my family.

And one last thing that made me shudder. 

“Were those the things spreading rabies…?”

[thehomeofduck]

Curse of the Fold | Chapter 5

Rating: Explicit (Violence, Sexual Content) Pairing: Daryl/Buck, M/M, Canon/OC

Wattpad || AO3 [Masterlist] || [Prev] || [Next]

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January 10th, 2011.

The walkers broke through yesterday. Caved a whole section of the outer fence in and were diving in like hellbent piranhas.

Rick and Daryl drove them off with the pigs. Got rid of several and allowed the others to help put up posts. 

I felt like I should’ve helped, but I couldn’t make myself move. I hate feeling like this. Every time they get so close, I panic. 

Before the fence went down, there was an outbreak within the prison. Kid had a disease that killed and turned him. Now anyone could be infected too, including everyone that was in there during that chaos. I could be as well. I haven’t shown any symptoms yet.

“Buck?”

I pull my head from my journal. Remembering my surroundings. I was outside with Dutch again. He rested behind me, enjoying the feel of grass on his coat as he lay with Flame. 

“We’re thinking of going just out of town to run for supplies. I thought I’d ask you to come with us. Extra hands are always nice.” Michonne walked up to me. 

I closed my journal, thinking for a second. I wanted to help, and I didn’t like just sitting around all day. “I don’t mind coming.”

She gave me a soft smile. “Good, okay taking Dutch? The boys already claimed the other seats.”

I rolled my eyes, standing and closing my journal. “Yea, that’s fine by me.” I turned to put the book into the saddlebag. “I’ll get him set.”

“Thank you.” I heard the crinkling of paper, turning to her. She held out a folded up map. “It’s already got the place marked down.” 

I took it from her, nodding in a silent thank you. She turned, walking back to the car where the others were packing what they needed.

I turned my intention to the lovebirds, well lovehorses. “Come on, Dutch.” I grabbed his lead. He watched, knowing exactly what was wanted. He seemed to contemplate, only to get up anyway. 

My hands fell down to my sides as I waited. Dutch leaned down to Flame, touching noses and giving a soft snort to her. She let out a sigh, snorting back. He turned back to me, waiting. 

I took the time to fasten his lead. I shoved a stool over with my foot, grabbing his saddle off the fence. Swinging it over him, I made sure it was secure. I watched as he played with the lead in his mouth, swinging the rope back and forth. Chuckling to myself as I stood on the stool, I climbed over him. I tapped at his side, the spurs of my boots gently rubbing on him, signaling him to go. 

Dutch trotted down the road, and we left the main gates. Following Michonne and the others in the car from a bit back. I let Dutch make his own way down the road, pulling my revolver from the saddle holster. I checked to make sure it was loaded, before strapping it to the one on my own hip.

I looked around; the roads were bare. Walkers mostly wandered the forests because of the smell of animals. Although they were usually rotted. The car had been out of sight from a turn, but I wasn’t too worried. It was a long stretch of road to the highway, no turns along the way.

I started to speed up a bit as time went on, getting Dutch into a canter, so I didn’t fall too far behind. 

The faint sound of gurgling walkers hit my ears. I assumed it had just been a few on the road that wondered from the sound of the car. I glance down at the map. After this next turn, it was just a long stretch to the highway. I shove the map back into Dutch’s saddlebag. 

Looking up, I quickly grabbed Dutch’s lead, pulling it back roughly. He skidded to a stop. Hundreds, maybe even a thousand walkers, covered everything in front of me. The entire road, even the highway that was yards away. 

My heart started to pound out of my chest as I looked around. Walkers grew closer, leading Dutch to stand on two hooves. His high-pitched scream pierced my ears. But I couldn’t cover them. I gripped hard onto the lead and saddle to not be thrown off, his front hooves slammed back onto the ground, sending me forward. 

I sat back up, looking around me again for some way out. Walkers grew close behind us. I could see walkers laying on the ground and then a pile of them. The car that was once driving in front of me had been stacked on top of walkers, doors open and empty. I couldn’t check for sure without being surrounded or having Dutch throw me off. 

I pulled his lead to the left, quickly guiding him towards the trail of walkers. He took off in a canter, ducking into an open spot in the bushes. Dead walkers lay scattered while leftover ones roamed. 

“Easy boy, easy.” I spoke softly, despite my own fear rippling through my body. I tried to act calm for him. Panicking would only freak him out. I led him through around the walkers, speeding up when needed to get around them. We were both up on alert, being careful of every angle around us. I was so tense.

I grabbed my map out to check where to go now. I could barely keep my eyes on it for more than a few seconds. The route wasn’t too complicated. There was a trail I could get to. It’d lead to a creek and a bridge, then back out to the road. I’d just have to follow it until I hopefully found the others.

The walkers grew less and less, all too slow to follow. 

“Easy.” Dutch slowed at the command. We approached the trail, and I began to follow. Even while away from all the walkers, I still felt paranoid. I never knew for sure if I’d be okay. It’s why I never liked going out alone or in forests. One wrong turn and you could be at a dead end. One wrong move and you could fall down a hill. I didn’t know the area well either. 

I could hear the soft sounds of running water. As we walked through the trees and bushes, I saw the creek. I followed down the trail beside it, spotting the bridge afar. I slowed Dutch to a stop, pulling my legs up over him and sliding off his back. 

He leaned down, already starting to munch on some grass below. I walked to the edge of the creek, crouching down to cup my hands in the water. I pulled it to my face, rubbing the cold water over my skin. Cleaning off any dirt and waking me up a bit. I suck in a breath, realizing the water was colder than I had first thought. I shake it off, cleaning up my hands. 

I heard a snort from Dutch behind me. I turned to look at him. His ears were pointed straight forward and he looked around on high alert. I stood to observe him. He looked towards the bush beside him as it began to rustle. 

Before I could call him over, he let out a loud whinny, a walker coming from the bushes to grab for him. I tried to get my footing on the rocky edge, running towards him. He took off in a hurry.

“Dutch!” I followed after him, calling to grab his attention back. He continued to run, startled at other walkers along the way.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” I tried to follow him, only able to run so fast. 

Something yanked on my ankle as I ran, sweeping my feet out from under me. When my vision cleared, I found myself upside down, looking back to where I'd come.

I try to look around, barely able to twist my body. I looked down. There was about a six-foot space between me and the ground. I was very clearly hanging. I look back up, swinging a bit to take a look at my legs. One of my ankles was strung up by a thick rope, the other hanging. I took a moment to try and process it. I was just trying to catch up to Dutch. And now I’m swinging upside from some rope in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. 

I pulled my free leg up a bit, getting it a bit more comfortable so I hadn’t strained. Reaching into my side holster and digging out my hunting knife. I froze, hearing rustling from the bushes. The walkers had followed me down the path. I scrambled to pull myself up, shaky and panicked. I tried to saw at the rope. My back was straining, as I couldn’t get a good angle.

I let out a huff, falling back. The blood rushed back down to my head, making it pound. I squeezed my eyes shut to try and focus. My eyes fluttered open, only to widen as a walker was right in front of me. It reached towards my face.

“Fuck!” I grabbed a hold of its wrist, shoving it up and out of the way. Without another thought, I brought my knife down onto its head, letting it immediately drop. The handle slipped from my fingers as the walker's weight dropped. I tried to grab it but couldn't get a grip. My body swung from left to right. 

I patted along my body, trying to feel for any other knives. I hadn’t brought any more with me. The other walkers weren’t far off, but too close for my own comfort. I didn’t have a knife to cut the rope, I couldn't tug it off. Only other thing I could do was pull myself up.

I sigh, taking deep breaths to try and relax. Catching my breath, I pulled myself up. I grabbed onto the rope with one hand, using it as leverage to pull me up more. The rope burned into my hands as they slid against the rough texture, making me hiss. I took a deep breath in, holding it. My body strained and pulled as I forced myself up, climbing the rope with every new inch I could reach. 

I finally let out a gasp, sitting upright. I tried not to put weight on my foot as it’d only grow tighter. Pushing myself further, I pulled my body up the rope more. I wiggled my foot, and the rope became loose without pressure. My hands grew sweaty, and I was losing grip on the rope. I slid down despite my desperate grasps at it. Only burning and cutting open my palms on tiny bristles of rope.

I looked below me. Walkers were closer now. But I also couldn’t stay up here forever. I try to ease myself down as much as I can, letting go and bracing myself for the six foot drop. Pain shot through my shin as it hit the ground. I could only sit for a second before forcing myself up, ripping the knife from the walker that lay dead. 

I turned, shoving it through the eye socket of the one that approached me. I twisted the knife and pulled back, not looking behind me as I ran past. Pain seemed to shoot through my leg with every step, making me limp and hold my breath. I brought two fingers to my lips, letting out a loud whistle, hoping Dutch would come. I followed the long trail, knowing it at least led to the road.

My heart pounded and I let out another sharp whistle. Nothing. I heard no whinny, and I heard no hooves hitting the ground. Only the sounds of walkers emerging from the surrounding forest. I got slower; the pain was harsh, and I felt like I was just breaking myself further. I tried to shift more weight onto my other leg. I couldn’t stop. Using my gun would only cause more noise and I didn’t want to risk it with what I already caused. 

I tried another whistle. Still nothing. Where the fuck was he?

[whining-ylthin]

I kinda screwed up as Tumblr won't apply the "keep reading" edit to the 1st post in this chain but fuck it, we ball.

3. Darksiders: Warmastered Edition (Steam version, THQ Nordic/KAIKO 2016, original THQ/VIgil Games 2010)

It's a video game I sincerely wanted to like since I first played it at 14, and now that I've beaten it close to my 30s... yeah, I'd love to like it more than I actually do.

Darksiders gets dragged down by two things: the scale and ambitions of its creators, and their relative inexperience with game design. On paper it's a competent, if derivative 3D Zelda clone with DMC/God of War-inspired combat and gritty, hyperbolic fantasy aesthetic straight out of a late 90s comic book, but in practice it's plagued by a host of small but increasingly jarring design issues, bad number balancing and severely bloated runtime.

Maybe a fifth of the 20-ish hours you're going to spend with it are dedicated to overly weighty and overall kind of shallow combat where two of your weapons are nearly useless (they either don't deal enough damage or just don't work within this combat system, and the hit-based leveling up system is... uh, bad) and your dodge will usually get you locked into an enemy combo instead of taking you to safety. The rest is mostly decent, if occasionally a little janky or tedious platforming, puzzle-solving or (mercifully short) TPS/rail shooter sections... and unfortunately all of it tends to overstay its welcome due to the stages simply being too long and too big to traverse.

Yes, you get a horse. Three dungeons and TWELVE STAGES into the game. That can't be used in half the areas (I assume due to either weird load zone shenanigans or developer oversight bordering on active malice) and for some godforsaken reason the damn thing can't jump even over the tiniest of ledges, making it officially just as bad as Kaithes in Warframe, my go-to example of bad steeds in video games. For those of you who haven't played Warframe - they're basically one step above being the Mass Effect 1 Mako of video game horses, and that's only because they have marginally more weight and you can't flip them upside down on a slightly more steep hillside.

This game also had the misfortune of coming out after Devil May Cry 4 and Bayonetta, both games that not only featured shorter, snappier (if not necessarily great all the time, I'll readily admit there're Some Fucking Bullshit-tier stages) levels with less dragged out metro tunnels and ruined highways to run across, but also a truly revolutionary feature: a way to make your character haul ass faster. In DMC4 you can buy an upgrade that makes your run speed increase after X seconds of going forward, and Bayonetta unlocks a fast-running animal transformation early within story progress. Darksiders, meanwhile, effectively leaves you stuck with War's dainty tippy-toes, unchainable dashes with slow-as-balls recovery and very limited vertically crippled horse for its full runtime.

You know what DMC games also had? And since the PS2 days at that? Better checkpointing/store placement and healing mechanics! A game series that emphasizes not dying or getting hit gives you: special powerup mode that heals you, better access to Statues of Time (they are both checkpoints and store in which you buy moveset/character upgrades and items), as well as doing this little convenient thing of converting excess healing orbs to currency - compared to Darksiders' Chaos Mode doing nothing for your health, life-leech weapon augments being downright useless, Abyssal Armor being a late-game upgrade that (for a change) absolutely trivializes the combat, and several dungeons locking you out of Vulgrim's little emporium for most if not all of their duration which forces you to rely on manually placed chests (the devs must have noticed this was an issue in testing - but it was probably too late to implement extra spots for Vulgrim's store with fast-travel option disabled), as well as green/yellow souls getting completely wasted if your health/Wrath bar is already full. Also, while some upgrades could be grindy to get, DMC games from at least 3 onwards gave you the convenience of freely replaying missions on one save, which allowed you to get that 20.000 Red Orbs (or however many Proud Souls it was in 4-- 2000, I think? And Special Edition massively boosted all currency gains just to make the catchup faster) for that optional double-jump within maybe 10-20 minutes of rerunning one short mission. By comparison grinding in Darksiders is a slog, with enemies dropping absolutely pitiful amounts of souls (from 3 to 400) compared to how much is required to upgrade your moves or buy items (cheapest healing item is 500 souls if you already have an empty vessel for it, otherwise it's 2000+500; weapon moves stay below the 3 thousand souls mark but some optional upgrades required for a 100% run charge you for as much as 10-12,5 THOUSAND souls), and the best (and by that I mean "the only one that won't make you crumble to dust and waste hours of your life") soul farming technique being a goddamn exploit taking advantage of unrestricted enemy spawn and bad AI/limited enemy moveset.

Also, I hope you don't intend to 100% the game without using a guide - the number of collectibles, combined with the slow traversal and vast maps that you'll have to return to several times to grab everything, makes it a genuine chore even with the modern convenience of YouTube playlists and numerous written guides. In case you do go insane (like I did), keep in mind that the game lies to you a little - the only points of no return are two of five boss rooms (Tiamat's and Strega's) which contain nothing of value anyway, Azrael is full of shit and you can return to the endgame location he tells you you can't come back to.

Speaking of - the story! The writing is honestly middling - pompous and trying (but failing) to come across as something more profound - and the cutscene direction is noticeably rough around the edges, with awkward camera angles and shot transitions. While the core idea for the setting is yet another very 90s "loose Bible fanfic", I'm willing to give it a shot and not immediately knock it for unoriginality - shame that there's not much going for it in this game. The characters are hardly memorable, mostly acting to move the pieces of the story and not much more, and the story itself sways from "go to a place and kill some goon" to "guys, I think you forgot to write these characters enough for this big twist to make sense in the game's own context (and make me give a damn)". Its decisive-yet-cliffhangery ending sure didn't help with writing the sequels.

The voice performances are baseline-good across the board, but they often fit into a specific, repetetive mold of "raspy, drawn out and 'epic-sounding'" (think the delivery style of Dawn of War games, but with weaker script and less Scott McNeill, for better or worse). Liam O'Brien certainly did get his fair share of aggressive grunts, to the point that I'm genuinely worried if he didn't strain his vocal chords with his role as War. Mark Hamill is unfortunately wasted on The Watcher - good performance for a nothing-character. Phil LaMarr's Vulgrim is fun to listen to, but could use a better variety of barks and voicelines, and for what little Samael I got to hear, Vernon Welles' voice is definitely on point. Sadly the direction for the bosses is just "generic demon voice", with Tiamat and Silitha sounding almost the same to my ear. Straga isn't much different to larger demon mooks, and two of the bosses (Griever and Stygian) don't even talk.

Moving onto the bosses - they're a low point, unfortunately. Most of them are either gimmicks, poorly designed or some combination of both, with Stygian taking the cake (why yes, I'd love to run in circles around a large arena waiting for the boss to expose its weakpoint so I can deal a tiny amount of damage to it with my plinky peashooter of a handgun instead of hitting it with my sword in the SWORD SWINGING GAME), and Destroyer earning the developers a retroactive slap on the wrist for introducing two annoying button-mashing QTEs in a game that previously featured them only once (for mashing out of a this game's Barnacle stand-in's grab). Tiamat is annoying as she relies on this game's jank aiming mechanics against a fast-moving target, Griever is a forgettable damage sponge, Silitha is a tedious wait-and-dodge game which often makes you feel like you're playing the game wrong, Straga is an easier gimmick fight than the PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT ASS FUCK THIS SHIT FUCK OFF golem minibosses in his dungeon, and Destroyer is hardly a fight if you figured out how to ride the horse (then dodge/block his decently telegraphed attacks).

Other enemies aren't really shining points, either - most of them end up being forgettable demon fodder or mildly annoying range-based Angels who get trivialized by AoE attacks and the Abyssal Chain. I genuinely despise two mook types, though - the overly tanky, uninterruptible armored undead types and the big titty ghost enemies who keep phasing in and out of reality while ignoring half of your own attacks, making them needlessly obnoxious to kill. This kind of enemy design sucked when DMC3 did it in 2005, and it sucked just as much five years later.

Is there something I can praise? Well, the visuals are neat, even without the Warmastered upscaling the textures and bumping some graphics options up. The 3D models hold up really well, and while a chunk of the game is spent in gray- or sepia-colored tunnels and wastelands, the level of detail is still impressive even in the most boring of location and there are some absolute standouts - Anvil's Ford is an absolute treat even if the location itself first holds a rather annoying enemy gauntlet setpiece, then becomes an abridged shortcut to a dungeon you should have little reason to revisit. The aforementioned dungeon, The Hollows, also stands out to me as surprisingly pleasant despite large amounts of overlong tunnel exploration, train cart puzzles and the middling boss at the end of it all - better than the mega-corridor of Ashlands, sepia-and-orange dungeons of Twilight Cathedral, samey-looking spiderweb maze of Iron Canopy or dark and obnoxious Black Throne.

Overall Darksiders is... okay. It has a solid enough foundation, but it's also stretched too far and too thin. It tries to swing for some really tall fences while doing the run-up on legs that are clearly too short to make the jump. It takes clear inspiration from some really big names, but fails to learn all their lessons. And all of it comes together to form a game that will embody "seven out of ten on a good day" in my memory. Now I'm obviously a bit jaded and overly negative from 100%-ing it in one go (because if I drop a game for even a little bit, I'll forget most of it, lose the muscle memory and ultimately won't be coming back to it), but talking to other people who'd played it closer to recent memory, it seems to be a shared sentiment - the game is just a good few hours too long and merely "okay" at best even without tedious treasure-hunting and soul grind.

Ylthin's Media Thread thingy for the tail-end of 2023 and 2024:

Normally I'd do it on Twitter but I fully expect that site to collapse in 6 months.

Glen Cook, "Czarna Kompania"/"Cień w ukryciu" ("Black Company"/"Shadows Linger") (Rebis, 2009 Polish edition, 2022 reprint)

I'm starting this list somewhat off the curb - I've finished the 2nd novel from this omnibus release just now, but I've also read the first one earlier this year... and I don't have much to say about either, honestly. The prose is kind of clunky and awkward in a way that takes a moment to adjust to, and without directly comparing the Polish translation to the English original I can't tell how much of this unwieldiness is due to poor translation job and how much of it is just inherent to Cook's style. You're not reading this book for its characters, either - most of them are memorable only because of constant exposure, as names that you eventually learn to map to a broad role in the story or one, maybe two vague personality/appearance traits. What carried me through was what I can broadly describe as "vibes" and long-term significance of Black Company books - or maybe the wave of genre-fiction they were a part of. It certainly wasn't the first grim and gritty fantasy series out there, and the backside blurb's boasts about how Cook "brought the fantasy genre down to the level of common men" are very overblown (the books are literally about an evil sorceress' plan for world domination clashing against her messy divorce with her Dark Lord husband and a prophecy about the "divine savior" figure coming back further pissing into her breakfast), but I can still notice the seeds of interesting ideas being planted here and there (thank you MandaloreGaming for making me aware of Myth games, shame that they're downright impossible to legally obtain anymore), and the grit (while going for a very predictable "everyone is utterly miserable and the whores will give you all the STDs" route, and feeling more like catnip for 14-year-old boys rather than genuine "maturity") fortunately doesn't cross the line into unbearable edgelord territories yet. It was a part of the same wave of dark fantasy that either molded me directly (through Sapkowski's The Witcher novels and "Berserk"), indirectly (through a thousand imitators years down the line, from local fantasy authors of the 2000s to video games - Heroes of Might & Magic 5 in particular was retrospectively very blatantly inspired by Warhammer Fantasy), or infected me with sudden-onset brainrot in my mid-20s (Warhammer 40.000), and I can definitely feel and appreciate it even if I find these books to be rather mediocre so far.

I just wish I could get my hands on Moorcock's Elric books without going through a dozen hoops, but I guess I'll make do with Cook, Erikson and the odd Warhammer novel for the time being.

Oh, and this cover art? That tattered "dashing rogue" look, that borderline fractal leather-and-cloth patterning, the random spiky structures in the background? The long bob hair and goatee look straight out of the music video for "Imperium" by Machine Head? A cover that makes you think not even of actual early 2000s buttrock, but of Stuart Chatwood emulating it for Prince of Persia: Warrior Within's soundtrack? Hillariously mismatched with the actual novels. I haven't seen a choice this baffling since reading my dad's faded mid-90s pulp booklet edition of Ursula LeGuin's "Rocannon's World" paired up with either Vallejo or Frazetta sword-and-sandals artwork.

[kilgarraghforever]

So The Son Of Bigfoot is this film from 2017 and it's completely nutty.

The opening scene is this science man getting chased through a forest by a load of helicopters, men with dogs and a pointy-faced dude with very blonde hair. The lot of them have stupid hairstyles. Science Man climbs a cliff, is cornered by the helicopters and then jumps off a waterfall. End scene, cut to title, then the main stuff starts. (I think I'm going to explain the entire film, so anyone who wants to watch it (and I heartily recommend you do so) leave now.)

The main plot is about this kid who gets bullied by three morons with stupid haircuts. Here they are:

(Sunglasses has this silly little goatee thing at the back of his head)

The three morons stick a load of gum in his hair, so his mum has to chop it all off. Next day, it's all grown back, and kid freaks and tries to chop it off himself - which goes badly. He finds his dead dad's old hat in a draw to hide it, goes to school and basically has a weird thing where his hearing suddenly increases and so does his shoe size. The kid's feat literally bust out of his shoes. Kid ends up in the PE hall to escape the noise and surprise! the three bullies turn up, he accidently punches one in the face and so they beat him up, steal his backpack and throw it in a basketball hoop. The lot of them get called to the headmaster's office to be punished (suspension), in which the kid - Adam - meets some blonde girl who flirts with him, gets his bag back and is told to remove the hat, revealing that his hair has grown back completely. Before he has time to contemplate this, the bullies turn up again, chase him home and throw a rock through his window. Rock hits a vent, breaks it and hits something metal, so Adam sticks his arm down and finds a tin full of letters from his dead dad and an address carved on bark. He reads the letters and his mum gets home, he accuses her of keeping his dad's living-ness a secret. Yelling ensues, Adam runs away, y'know - the usual.

Meanwhile, this massive hair company (Hair Co) are trying to make some serum to make hair grow. It's run by the pale dude from before, who never gets named, so I'll refer to him as Asshole. Asshole is showing these three dudes around and nattering, and then they get to this science lab. A short old science man shoots an intern in the ass with a dart thing that causes him to grow an afro. The afro then promptly bursts into flames.

We return to Adam, next to a highway trying to hitchhike in the pouring rain. Truck driver stops and Adam guilts him into taking him to the address on that bit of bark. Turns out it's literally just a post box in a woods next to the road. Adam gets out, truck drives off leaving Adam alone and so he ventures into the unknown. He wanders around for a bit looking for a house or something, yelling "Hello?" into the void. He climbs a small cliff, yells again and hears something behind him. Sees some bushes moving, so he throws a rock at them. The bushes go "ow" so he runs off and right into a bear trap. He falls, skidding the rest of the way down to the road. During said skid, his backpack falls off. This is important. Adam gets knocked out by the impact and is left sprawled in the middle of the road. Some trucker - I'm going to call him Carl - is driving down it, reading a magazine and singing something. He sees Adam at the last minute, slamming on the breaks. He's clearly going to hit Adam, but before he can, this blurry humanoid figure runs out into the road, scoops up Adam and runs off again. Carl is very confused, so plays it back on his dashboard camera. He goes "Well, I'll be" and reaches for his phone. It has no service. Carl ends up at a diner with a phone box, calls 911 and reports that he saw Bigfoot. 911 hangs up on him. Carl then proceeds to call the magazine he was reading and gets told that his sighting will get published.

Back at Hair Co, Asshole sees the report and smirks at the short science man, whom I'll be calling Billingsley, as that is his name. Billingsley wants to go after Bigfoot but Asshole says that they gave up the search ten years ago, leading to the question: 'What the fuck, Hair Co?' They eventually decide to go after Bigfoot again after seeing Adam in the photo.

Carl, back at the diner, is talking to the serving lady who I've named Sugar. They talk about the Bigfoot sighting, and then a load of black cars and a freaking helicopter turn up. Sugar shouts for someone to raise the prices.

Turns out all the men in black people are Hair Co looking for Bigfoot - and Asshole is with them. Carl explains about where he saw Bigfoot and an agent finds Adam's backpack (I said it was important) and his address in it. Asshole smirks again.

Two of the Agents of Hair turn up at Adam's address, break in and find the letters. Meanwhile, Shelly - the mum - is driving to the address on the bark in search of Adam.

This is where it gets a little nuts. Adam wakes up in some tree next with Bigfoot - inexplicably in a pair of jeans that look far too small for him because of all the fur - is standing over him. Adam understandably freaks out and tries to leave, only to nearly die from falling. Bigfoot grabs him before he does and explains that he is Adam's dad. His not dead, very much alive, rather furry and never named dad. (For that reason I'm going to keep calling him Bigfoot.) Adam calls bullshit and threatens him with a twig, then sees that the middle of the treehouse is decorated in photos of him and his mum. This somehow proves to Adam that Bigfoot is his dad, and I'm sure you guessed from the title. He then freaks out again, calling his dad a monster and Bigfoot makes the most funny offended face in animated history.

He then accuses Bigfoot of running away, to which Bigfoot responds with "Woah." He then explains that someone *cough* Hair Co *cough* *cough* were hunting him and he had to leave to keep Adam and Shelly safe. Adam then asks him what he meant by 'lab rat', making Bigfoot change the subject to Shelly and whether she knows Adam is here. Adam lies, his dad catches it, and they argue for a bit before Bigfoot says "Your mum must be worried sick."

Cut to Shelly driving up to a blockade set up by the Agents of Hair. They say they're looking for her, and she tries to escape but the Agents of Hair stop her.

Back at the treehouse, apparently Bigfoot and Adam have stopped arguing and Bigfoot is going on about being sorry he missed Adam's childhood and how Shelly sent everything to him. Adam then asks if he's going to have Bigfoot stuff happen to him - mostly refuring to the fur (I'm not sorry for the pun) - and Bigfoot says no. He then explains that he's already thirteen and hasn't shown any signs of being a bigfoot. Adam says "Yes I have. My feet went weird and so did my hearing." They eventually work out that Adam got all of the cool stuff about being a bigfoot and none of the fur. Cool stuff? I hear you and Adam ask. Turns out bigfoots (bigfeet?) have healing powers (which is how Adam is walking on a leg that got caught in a beartrap), run really fast, hear super well (like things around a mile away) and can talk to animals. They then zipline down to the ground, do some weird surfing thing and fall over. During the next 20 minutes, we meet two racoons, a squirrel and a woodpecker. Oh, yeah, and a giant bear. There's some nonsense with two idiotic hunters, baseball, some geysers and then they end up back at the treehouse. This sickeningly sweet bonding shit is interrupted by the raccoons who report that the Agents of Hair are scouring the forest looking for Bigfoot. Bigfoot blames Adam, which is fair but also really not, who then decides to give himself up to Asshole and the Agents of Hair. They take him to his mum and he tricks them into climbing into a geyser. This pisses of Asshole who, in a plot to lure out Bigfoot, traps Adam in a car and sends him into a forest fire the Agents of Hair started. When Bigfoot shows up to try and save Adam, he gets Adam out of the car but is shot by Asshole with a stun dart. The massive bear whose name is Wilbur saves Adam but a burning branch gets in the way of him going back for Bigfoot, who is captured by Asshole. Adam then blacks out from smoke inhalation. When he comes to, Wilbur and the other animals decide to leave, but Adam convinces them to help him save Bigfoot in a Mission Impossible style heist.

Back at Hair Co, Billingsley has almost perfected a hair formula and shoots the intern again, causing all his hair to grow prolifically. Asshole is pleased by this.

While that's happening, Adam and the rest break into Hair Co's nearest facility, and during the commotion, all of them but Adam get captured. Adam makes it to his dad, who then refuses to leave in a plot twist everyone saw coming, aside from Adam who is confused. Asshole has apparently promised to care for Shelly and Adam and not kill them in exchange for Bigfoot allowing them to run experiments on him. Adam, who is not crazy and doesn't trust Asshole, tries to convince Bigfoot to leave but then Asshole himself turns up and takes Adam out of the lab. Asshole talks about how Adam is going to like being rich while Adam spots a fire alarm, breaks it and causes the only door in to seal itself with him on the inside. This greatly pisses off Asshole, who yells for security to open the door and that the fire is a false alarm. Security guy, who Adam and co knocked out earlier, comes to, hears fire and sounds the evacuation alarm. Asshole gets taken to the bridge, leaving only Adam inside.

Adam then steals an access card from a guard he knocked out, releases all the animals, including the ones used by Hair Co to test stuff on (who all leave the compound and follow the evacuating Agents of Hair), and cause chaos. During said chaos Adam gets a flare gun. He goes back to Bigfoot and this time succeeds in convincing him to leave, threatening to tell Asshole that he's a Bigfoot too. This sentiment is quite sweet as he says that "If you don't leave, then I'm staying. It's the two of us here or the two of us out there, but I'm not loosing you again." They leave and Bigfoot decides to go into a large production area and break all of the gas pipes, deciding that Hair Co is going to be put out of business, permanently. They break many gas lines, leading to the door to be sealed so no gas escapes. They escape through a vent and come out at the top of Hair Co, and zipline down to the bridge using the cables holding it up.

Asshole is there waiting for them. He has found out that Adam is also a bigfoot and shoots Bigfoot several times with stun darts then kicks him off the bridge. Adam, with the most 'fuck you' look, shoots the flare gun's flare into Hair Co, igniting the gas and exploding the building and making the bridge collapse.

Adam then runs to the end of the bridge and climbs down to try and find his dad. Asshole also falls off the bridge because of his own stupidity and the Agents of Hair being incompetent.

In the gorge below, Adam finds his dad badly injured and dying. He cries at first, hugging his dad and his hands glow with blue swirls of light that disappear as soon as he takes his hand away from Bigfoot's arm. He then remembers the healing powers his dad told him about, and uses them on his dad. The blue magic makes Bigfoot's body rise into the air as the healing powers try to heal him, then gently place him back on the ground after Adam is done.

Bigfoot doesn't move.

"No!" Adam cries out, sobbing again. Then Bigfoot moves and wakes up, they hug, the animals show up and it's all very sweet, blah blah blah.

And then along comes Asshole, looking rather deranged and pointing a stun gun at them. He starts monologuing about how "it did not have to end this way" and then is shot in the ass by Shelly. Bigfoot, Shelly and Adam decide on "no more hiding". Meanwhile, the male raccoon discovers that Asshole has been wearing a toupee the entire time.

It turns out that Billingsley and the intern survived.

A few weeks/months later (it's actually only about a week later) Bigfoot and the animals are living happily with Shelly and Adam, who is returning to school after his suspension.

On the way, the bullies return and try to beat up Adam, only to be scared by Wilbur the massive bear. They end up with broken bikes (curtesy of the raccoons) and bruises. The blonde girl from the office shows up at the end of the confrontation and asks to walk to school with Adam. She also asks what happened to his shoes, as his feet bust out when the bullies show up. He jokes that he should switch to sandals, and the film ends on them walking away with his shoes hanging from a telephone pole.

It's a wild ride and I'd honestly recommend it to anyone with an hour and a half to spare. Despite what it looks like, I didn't get in everything and the whole film is a lot funnier that I said here.

This film got an 8/10.

[maybedefinitely404]

Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely. 

Most of the time, that is. 

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those. 

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did. 

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his. 

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started. 

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him. 

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now. 

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter. 

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer. 

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut. 

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin. 

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit. 

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him. 

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things. 

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Logan has autism. 

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum. 

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough. 

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile. 

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet. 

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water. 

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes. 

He was art, plain and simple. 

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?” 

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up. 

“Sorry.” 

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay. 

Until it wasn’t. 

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop. 

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

 Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO! 

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands. 

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that. 

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly. 

‘You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused. 

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?” 

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would. 

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn’t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break. 

 ‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly. 

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.                            

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to. 

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed. 

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable. 

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay. 

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay. 

This is all going to be okay.

[hey-its-cammy]

This is No Mistake

Teaser 

Title: This is No Mistake (Teaser)

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Eventually) 

Word count: 3019

Summary: Y/N always felt out of place. Like she didn’t belong in this life. In this universe. She felt like she belonged and had a purpose somewhere else. Of course she never knew where until something bad happened and led her to her destiny. To her purpose in life.  

Chapter trigger warnings: Mentions of suicide, shitty parents, mentions of depression, mentions of low self-esteem, blood, minor character death

A/N: So I just recently thought about this and it has been on my mind recently. Maybe I can turn it into a series maybe not. This is actually one of my longest things I've ever written, positive feedback is always welcome and constructive criticism is nice as long as you are, I am always trying to improve ;) Let me know what ya think!

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Your home life wasn’t all what you had hoped it would be, it wasn’t bad but you suppose it wasn’t good either. After years of being bossed around by your mother and all the verbal abuse from your family members, it seemed that life wasn’t turning out like you had hoped. You felt like the walls around you were your cage. How? You have always been told and kept reminding yourself that people had it worse than you, that you had it made. Your mother and father fought constantly while you grew up and still do. You remembered a time when you were younger and hoped they would make amends and it would be better, it never happened. The fighting only got worse as you grew and started to become more aware of the arguments. Pretty soon you couldn’t escape them, they always seemed to happen while you were around. You wondered if they were fighting about you, of course they were. What else would they be fighting about? It has always been you or money, past things that your mother brought up that didn’t matter now. 

Both of your parents were quite complex yet strangely simple. Your father was a toxic masculine man, tall and with dark features. He was loud when he got angry, you were constantly afraid of him hitting you but he never laid a finger on you somehow. He was simple. He liked cars, you would help him with them when you were little. He was a mechanic. Honestly they were some of your fondest memories. Even if he was constantly fighting with your mother or really verbal with the abuse he laid into you, he managed to be surprised when you seemed to magically have self-esteem issues. Honestly, heavens no. Not his child. 

He was an asshole but there were moments that he wasn’t, you held onto those for your dear life. Like the moments when you were little? The nice memories of the past. They tend to sadden you now that you are older, wishing you could return into that carefree state of mind. Growing up sucked. Bad. Even when you were younger you saw what it turned into. Both of your parents were unhappy with life. It never changed. Even if you liked your father more than your mother, you still always felt uncomfortable around him. You two rarely spoke and when you did it was a question or small talk.  

Now your mother? Ha, she was something different than your father who was actually quite laid back. No, your mother was an uptight bitch who constantly rode your ass like a pack mule. Throwing more emotional and mental issues on your back like a load, expecting you to just accept it and move on. With her it was always her way or the highway or so the saying goes, something like that. Even with small things like folding laundry, if you didn't do it her way then she would get pissed off and blame things on you that have no correlation what-so-ever. It was just sad.

You never felt like you deserved any of it. It never sat right with you. Well everything thinks their parents are shit but why you? Isn’t that what everyone thinks? 

You held onto the moments where things seemed to be so normal, family outings to the fair every year or walking around the mall. Sure there were still some bickering and banter between the two of them but nothing like the usual. It was nice, you didn’t feel like running away and hiding. Something you often did when you were at home, being in your room all day everyday until your only best friend invited you out with her. She was a nice getaway, a break from your family. Hell, when you were in your teens you’d spend weeks at a time at her house. Her parents were divorced but her mom was cool, she let you drink sometimes. You two still are best of friends, peas in a pod, creme and cookie of the oreo. 

Now Anna, your best friend since freshman year of highschool, she was a character. She was your twin flame, or so she called it. Frankly you never heard of the term before she used it and explained it to you one night, you two were at her step-dad’s house in the kitchen. You remembered it vividly. 

The blonde haired, blue eyed female was to your right while you stood at the end of the kitchen island, looking at the marbled surface. Y/E/C eyes casted down on the surface under your fingers. 

“That’s what i'm saying, we lived virtually the same lives but yet we are different in most aspects.” She said softly but with enthusiasm. 

“Hmm?” You zoned out for a moment while she went on a tangent, thinking about a place that isn’t here. You did it more often than you’d like to admit honestly. You rather be hunting with Sam and Dean. 

“Y/N, are you listening? Twin flames.” She waved a hand in front of your face to grab your attention. 

Your glossy gaze lifted and became clear to focus on your bff. “Huh?” You said again. Sad you didn’t get to finish your thoughts about your hunt in this other world. It all felt so vivid and real until you came falling back into reality. Shit blows. 

“Twin flames. That's what we are.” She repeated herself. Maybe she picked up on the blank stare you gave her but when it clicked, she explained. “It's like your twin but not.”

“Helpful.” You nodded sarcastically. 

“Y/N i'm serious! Think of tinkerbell and her sister.”

“Periwinkle.” You said before your mind even registered that you knew it, must have been the millions of times you have seen the movies. 

“Yes, they don't really look anything alike at all,” She motioned with her hands between the two of you. “They are completely different but work so well with each other like they were made for one another.”

“Like a soulmate?” 

“No, well sorta but no.” 

“Ya lost me.” You tilted your head and sent her a half smile. 

“Ugh nevermind. But you’re my twin flame.” 

Those were the good days, when you were around each other constantly. You were fluid and around each other so much that when you were out, people thought you were dating. Of course the two of you would laugh it off and give that person a run for their money on that bet or assumption. That's just how you two were. You were a tomboy and she was a lipstick, it fit. She wasn’t a lesbian, she was bisexual and so scared what you would think when she came out to you. Honestly you just laughed and said you liked boobs too, who doesn’t? They are squishy! 

She was great but you always felt like she was just using you for emotional stability sometimes. Of course that’s not a bad thing but like...constantly. You were the less emotional one and when you were, you struggled with showing them. You only cried when you were alone, it took you five years of close friendship with Anna for her to actually see you cry. Of course that just had to be when she needed you to be strong for the both of you. At least in your mind that's how it was supposed to be. She was talking about committing suicide that night and it stuck with you ever since. She grounded you when you were feeling numb. Made the dark days sunny again. She was all you had.

Weakness was never something you took kindly to at all. Probably what you got from your father, you never saw him cry. You were always told to shut up and stop being a baby when you cried, people mocked you constantly. When you were younger you were very emotional but you couldn't help it. You were young. So now that you were older, you never showed it to anyone.

Now here you were, alone in your room, sobbing. One of your patients had died on your table today, he was a nine year old mastiff and his heart was too weak to take a simple knee replacement surgery. You loved big dogs so it only made your heart heavier. You were a veterinary surgeon at a local animal hospital about two miles from your apartment complex. You had many jobs when you were younger; a waitress, bartender, maid, secretary for a human hospital and you of course volunteered at the career center to teach kids about cars when you were available. 

Teenage boys were exhausting and sometimes very sexist, thinking it was cool and would get brownie points with any girl to hit home base. That was only until Dakota showed up in your class. She was a whirlwind of hellfire and a demon in lipstick. She basically ran the small shop that you taught in and ran the boys right into the ground. 

With a flip of her apple scented hair, they would be on their knees kissing the ground she walked on. Quite empowering even for you to say the least. She looked up to you though, it was nice. You always had that motherly charm about you, always taking care for others and never yourself. It was slowly going to kill you, at least that was what Anna said. You still looked out for others though, even her so frankly how can you?

The dog though, that was hard. Having to tell the family for them to just blow up in your face and blame you for his death. That hurt worse. Low blow to yourself and sadly as these things happen, you spiral. You spiral so much until you are numb, empty and don't care about anything. 

You were broken from your thoughts when your phone rang, vibrating on the wooden table. Jesus what time was it? You knew it was late. When you picked up the phone the small clock read 2:34 AM. Who was calling you this late? None other than your bestie had the balls to call you when you should be sleeping. 

You wiped your eyes and cleared your voice, answering the call.

“Hey! Knew you'd be awake.” She said cheerfully on the other side of the line. 

You smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “Hey,” it came out as a raspy whisper, you cleared your throat and tried again. “Hi. Well you know, never sleep much anyway.” Insomnia is a bitch. You thought and placed the phone between your ear and shoulder as you shifted. You took the phone and moved it to your other ear. 

“Well don’t get comfy, i'm on my way to pick you up, mom misses you and so do I.”

You sighed. “Does anyone in your house sleep?”

“You’re awake too.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

“Right. Okay well give me some tim-”

“No need, I'm at your door.” 

You heard keys in your lock and sighed, hanging up the phone with a click. Anna walked in just as you walked out of your room in a plain grey shirt that went down to your mid thigh and boyshort underwear. 

“Sup bitch.” She greeted and you smiled, walking towards her. She hugged you and the two of you sat down on your couch in the living room. You talked about the usual ‘how's work, what have you been up to’ the same old same old small talk. It was nice to see her after a few weeks. 

She made herself comfortable on your couch while you got dressed. Going for your usual jeans, band tee and boots. Anna always thought you looked like a total badass and on some days, you felt like it. Tonight wasn't the night though. 

You threw your hair up into a messy ponytail to keep it out of your face and grabbed your things, heading out with your friend. 

“Mom is excited to see you.” She beamed. 

“I'm sure she is, haven't seen you two in a while. Not like I used to. Work has been busy.” You didn’t look at her, afraid she’d see through you.

“I don't believe that, i think you've just been busying yourself with work and using it as an excuse to not get out and socialize.” 

Of course without fail, she did. “I'm not.” You said sternly. 

“Yeah i'm sure. Y/N you need to get over him. It’s been five months.”

You held your tongue. Easy for you to say, you bat an eye at a man and they fall to your feet. You thought. People avoid me like the plague. 

“He cheated on you, you don't need to stress yourself over a man like him.”

“That is three years of my life down the drain Anna.” 

“I know it is, i just-” 

You cut her off. “You don't know. Your relationships never last longer than a few months at most.”

“Ouch.” Her face fell and she trained her eyes on the road. You turned your head to look at her and you could see tears prick her eyes. 

“Sorry. I just- people don't chase after me like they do you. I'm not that girl. I’ve never been that girl. I'm not as pre-” 

“I'd chase after you if I were a man. Hell, Y/N/N I’ve been gay for you for years!” You smiled now, the thick tension in the air fading. 

“Yeah well we both said that when we turn fifty and we aren't married, we are marrying each other.” You two always said this even after a year of being friends, it was hard for you to trust. 

Anna gave you a knowing look and smiled. “Still a promise, sexy bitch.”

You both laughed out loud and you turned up the music she was playing, a comfortability between the two of you. 

You dated Chace for three years, friends for four years before that. You couldn’t believe it when you caught him with your ex friend Maddie in your bed together. Well maybe you could, he did say once before when he was drunk that he liked her. You shrugged it off, trying to not let it get to you. Such an idiot for that. Either way it hurt, bad. Anna was there when you reached out to her, just to stay with her until you got back on your feet. Now you live in an apartment down the road from her and you couldn't feel more free. It was safe to say two were really close. You had never been so close with someone that they knew what you were thinking by your face. It was odd. You hid everything from your parents but with her? She saw right through you like you were made of clear glass. It was thick but you could still look in. One time she compared you to lion glass. It was the only thing keeping the lion away from ripping the people into shreds. Metaphor for your emotions.

Of course after spending time with Anna and her mother, you felt better. She had a habit of doing that, cheering you up. She was happy with her new boyfriend, you were happy for her. Better than her being so lonely all the time. 

Little did you know this would be the last time you got to see your best friend again. 

You woke up alongside her, your head pounding from the night of drinking. You two always shared a bed, a habit you picked up while you were young. 

You got up, your feet hitting the softness of the carpet until it felt warm and damp. Groaning you thought you just stepped in dog pee and stepped around it only to feel it again and again. “What the hell?” 

You flicked on the light only to be in horror of what was in front of you. Your eyes burned and you immediately felt sick to your stomach, running to the bathroom to throw up the contents. Your mind was just playing tricks on you, this can't be happening. What the actual hell. There were no such things as monsters or ghosts. Freaking Scooby-Doo taught you that the real monsters were people! This is like something out of the show Supernatural you thought to yourself. Gathering yourself up off the bathroom floor, taking a deep breath, a man kicked the door down. You screamed and everything faded to black. 

Supernatural. A show you were in love with. It held all the things you were so interested in, angels, demons, Heaven and Hell. All of it. Two very attractive men playing the lead roles of the characters. Sadly you never got to meet them after the show's ending, probably never will. You watched panels and things while you were at home. Wishing you were there to see them in person. Never once did you have the money to just leave to the state or country they were visiting and having a panel in. When they did come to your state, you were out of the country on a school trip. Life is just that way. 

So here you were, waking up in a dark musty room. The lamp on the bedside table seems to be your only light source right now, besides the light coming from under the door. Where the hell were you? It felt oddly familiar but you have never been here before. At least not to your waking knowledge. A light knock on the door made you jolt up, your head pounding as you sat up. Your hand came to hold it as a certain tall, long haired man entered. 

“Sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you fall, you hit your head on the floor pretty hard. You might have a concussion so take it slow.”

He was right, light hurt. Everything was hazy and slow. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a few times. The male started to come into view. “Jared?”

He looked at you puzzled.

“Sam?” 

[dream-of-kpop]

DK and H(y)oshi

*the van comes to a stop on the highway because of ice*

Driver: "Guys, it looks like it's gonna be a while." *turns on the heat*

Seventeen: "Ok."

*everyone goes back to being busy with their phones*

*DK nudges Hoshi beside him*

DK: "I brought my Switch, do you wanna play??"

Hoshi: "yEs-"

*DK excitedly sets his Switch on his lap and turns it on*

Hoshi: "What games do you have??"

DK: *sees the screen loaded up* "Animal Crossing, Mario Kart...I just got Perso-"

Hoshi: "MARIO KART-"

DK: "OK!!!" *starts the game*

*Seungkwan watches them silently from behind*

*DK and Hoshi both pick their characters: DK as...well Donkey Kong and Hoshi as Yoshi*

Hoshi: "OOO I WANNA PLAY HYRULE CIRCUIT!"

DK: "OKIE!"

*the game is going well, until the last match, when Hoshi's Joycon starts drifting*

DK: *Donkey Kong zooms past Yoshi for 1st place* "AHHHHHHH I WON! AHHHHHHHH!"

*Jeonghan, on the other side of DK, rolls his eyes*

*Seungkwan gets startled by DK's reaction*

Hoshi: "WHAT??? MY KART STARTED DRIFTING WTF!"

DK: "WHAT?"

Hoshi: "YOU SET ME UP SEOKMIN. YOU KNEW THIS JOYCON WAS BUGGY."

DK: "What??? It's just a game, I didn't set you up."

Hoshi: "suRe yOU diDn't."

DK: "I beat your ass fair and square Soonyoung. Deal with it."

Hoshi: "YOU'RE A CHEATER SEOKMIN-"

DK: "Seungkwan, tell Hoshi I didn't do anything."

Seungkwan: "What?"

Hoshi: "Yeah Kwan, you were watching the whole time. Didn't you see my kart randomly drift??"

Seungkwan: "Honestly I dazed off like a little after the match started. Anyways, how did you know I was watching?"

DK: "I could feel you breathing on my neck dude."

Seungkwan: "Oh, sorry."

Hoshi: "Nevermind then. Watch the highlights, YOU'LL SEE I WAS DRIFTING-"

DK: "Ok, ok..." *presses the button to watch the highlights*

*most of the highlights only showed DK's victories though*

Hoshi: "I WANT A REMATCH BUT WE SWITCH JOYCONS."

DK: "OK IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT THEN FINE!"

*they restart the match with the same characters but this time in a different course, Rainbow Road*

DK: "This is gonna be a hard match so-"

Hoshi: "I GOT THIS."

*yet again the game is going great for Hoshi as he's in 2nd and DK's in 4th...until the last match...*

Hoshi: "LOOK- IT'S DOING IT AGAIN! IT'S DRIFTING! *falls off the map* WHAT TYPE OF SICK PRANK IS THIS??"

DK: "SOONYOUNG, I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO THEM!!"

Hoshi: *pauses Mario Kart* "TELL NINTENDO TO GIVE US NEW ONES."

DK: "FOR WHAT?? THEY'RE FINE."

Hoshi: "I WOULD'VE WON BUT- I DIDN'T CHOOSE THE RIGHT KART AND WHEELS THAT'S ALL. MY STATS WERE BAD."

DK: "BUT YOU WERE COMPLAINING ABOUT THE JOYCONS DRIFTING THOUGH."

Hoshi: *turns and faces the window* "Whatever. I don't wanna play anymore."

DK: *sighs* "I wanted to play Animal Crossing with you. I WANNA SHOW YOU MY VILLAGE."

Hoshi: "..."

DK: "I named my village after you."

Hoshi: *turns his head slightly* "...You did?"

DK: "Yeah...'Hoshiland'."

Hoshi: *turns back towards DK again* "Ok...I wanna see..."

DK: "YAYYYY!" *exits out of Mario Kart into Animal Crossing*

*he loads up his village and hands the Switch to Hoshi*

DK: "Go ahead and play."

Hoshi: "Thank you!!"

*Hoshi plays around in the game for a few minutes*

DK: "I'm getting a little tired but you can play it if you want."

Hoshi: "Really? Ok!"

*DK dozes off for about an hour; he wakes up to see the van still hasn't moved*

*he groggily looks over and sees Hoshi fiddling with the Joycons*

DK: "I thought you were playing Animal Crossing?" *rubs his eyes then yawns*

Hoshi: "I did it."

DK: "What?"

Hoshi: "I saw this tutorial on Youtube. Bro, I fixed the Joycons!!!"

DK: "They didn't need to be fixed in the first place."

Hoshi: "I know what I was talking about earlier. *hands DK a Joycon* One more match."

DK: "Hoshi-"

Hoshi: "I'm not Hoshi right now...I'm Soonyoung." *tries to crack his knuckles but can't* *neither can I honestly*

DK: "Ok fine...let's get this over with..."

*again for the 3rd time, they pick their same characters, and previous layouts for their karts*

*but the course is: Cloudtop Cruise*

DK: "Let's do 200CC this time..."

Hoshi: "Alright bet."

DK: "On Hard mode."

Hoshi: "Alright."

DK: "With Bananas only."

Hoshi: "...Ok I can do that."

*they hit confirm and wait for the race to start*

*3...2...1* *they both press the acceleration button at the same time but nothing happens*

Hoshi: *presses the button like 40 times* "WHAT HAPPENED??"

DK: "WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE JOYCONS??? THEY DISCONNECTED!"

Hoshi: "I FIXED THEM!!!"

*DK takes the Joycon from Hoshi and connects it back onto the Switch*

*he places it into a bag and quietly puts it where Wonwoo is sleeping in the back seat*

*luckily all of the members are either asleep or too preoccupied to notice*

Hoshi: "Wait, what just happened?"

DK: *whispers* "I lied. That wasn't my Switch or my games. That wasn't even my village, it was Wonwoo's."

Hoshi: *whispers* "So you lied to me?"

DK: *whispers* tHat's bEsiDes tHe pOiNt- We messed up his Joycons..."

*they both turn around and peek to see if Wonwoo is still asleep; he is*

*they turn back around*

DK: "Seungkwan..."

Seungkwan: "...What?"

DK: "Please don't tell anyone."

Seungkwan: "Don't worry, you're good."

*Hoshi and DK breathe a sigh of relief*

*Jeonghan smirks to himself while listening to their conversation*

.

hyungwonthefraud

i kinda want a switch now

i just made this story like an hour ago after watching dashiegames. idk what happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Omg

[stefandesofia]

Darkest Fear

I really thought a lot about how I want to do it. I didn’t want to suffer a lot, so it had to be fast, real fast. But I also wanted it to be easy, since I just couldn’t be bothered working for it. The options were there, and I spend a long time weighing every one in my mind. All the pros, all the cons. Until I found the best option. 

Considered slitting my wrists. It’s very popular, every movie with these themes has at least one scene with someone slitting their wrists (and remember kids, it’s down the river, not across the street!). But this is just too played out. It’s the first thing you think of. I also had to go find a razor, since using a knife would just be barbaric. And it would have been painful, cutting flesh. And it would leave a mess that SOMEONE would have to clean later. No, I wanted to go another route.

I thought about jumping from a high place. It’s fast, a measly 8-10 seconds and it’s done. But the damn survival instinct would kick in the moment I jump and I’d just have been in agony for all of these 8-10 seconds. Regretting it for the rest of my life, as it were. And that’s no fun. No, had to keep searching.

Taking a butt load of pills is another option. It’s fast, mostly painless, and it’s effective depending on the pills you take. But then I still had to source the pills. And make sure that I have enough. And then take them. I never was great at taking pills, they would always get stuck in my throat. No, no, that wouldn’t do either. 

Hanging myself? I don’t live in a 17th century country manor, so no rafters from which to hang the rope, and just hanging it from the lamp obviously won’t work. It’s also a lot of agony and just as much regret. It can take several minutes, especially having a strong neck. It will just be terrible. That wasn’t it either.

A gun? For obvious reasons (me not owning a gun) I couldn’t do that, and getting certified for gun ownership and proving that I am mentally stable, just to do the opposite and shoot myself, it’s just too much work.

Starving myself? Electrocution? Fire? Animal attack? At that point I was just throwing shit at the wall to see which parts stick. Turns out it was a bit too solid and nothing was sticking. Too much fibre, I think.

So I was driving home from work, when it hit me. A car crash. People are already dying left and right from that without actually wanting to. And how easy it would be to do it intentionally. So I devised a plan. Took a shot of rum for courage, got in the car and started driving. I had to do it right if it was going to work. Physics-wise, I have to be going no more than 55 km/h to end myself. Just have to take the belt off and that should do it. I was thinking the highway, since I can really pick up the speed there, and really make sure it worked. I got up on the highway, and really picked up speed. 100 km/h. 110 km/h. 130 km/h. 140 km/h. That’s the legal limit, so I didn’t feel comfortable going above that. And that’s ultimately the goal here. Feeling comfortable. 

I unbuckled the belt (didn’t want to do it too early and waste the chance), I closed my eyes, and let go of the wheel. 

It was really peaceful for a while there. The hum of the engine, the soft tunes coming in from the radio. 

Then the tire started scraping in the side of the road. I kept pressing the pedal. Soon, the car hit a bump, got over the little fence thing on the side of the road and lurched. 

That’s the last I remember. 

I’ve always been hardy. Basically had a single broken bone in my life, and that was when I was skiing full speed and both my skis got stuck under a rock and stopped dead in their tracks, literally bending my legs the wrong way around. And even then all it was, was a hairline fracture. Something that was fixed in 2 weeks. I’ve never had a nosebleed, no matter how smashed I have had my face. We were playing dodgeball in school way back when, and we didn’t have dodgeball balls, so instead the PE teacher gave us basketballs... Model educator there... Anywho, I got hit in the face, directly, by the strongest kid there. He was 2 meters tall, and had a moustache already. We were in 6th grade. I couldn’t put my hands in front of my face and I got hit head on. I literally blacked out from the hit to my face, and mostly nose (it’s not a small thing). When I came to, 3-4 minutes later, my face was red, but I was unscathed. Cuts heal within hours, stitches can be taken out within a couple days, bruises heal fast, a twisted ankle was healed within a few days, even. 

So with that in mind, how could I have been so lucky, as to have totalled the car, literally opened it up like a tin can, the engine was found 300 meters away from the rest of the car, and still not manage to kill myself. 

Not that I’m out and about. I fell into a sleepless coma. I can still see and hear everything, but I can’t do anything. Did you know that you can’t focus your eyes when in a coma, even if they are open? Yup, I am constantly focused on a point, about 50 cm away from my face. That TV that is working opposite of me? I can only really see the colors of it. The faces of the visitors, mostly smudges. 

The nurse is nice, at least. I middle aged woman, I think, her name is Ioanna. Maybe... Can’t exactly ask... She takes good care of me, washes me, massages my arms and legs. Even talks to me about her problems. Apparently she hates her job. Taking care of the people in the “living dead” ward, as she calls it. Every day, changing diapers, washing shit, wiping drool. But she does it, cause she has an ungrateful little brat to take care of. 

Waste of time. 

How I wish euthanasia was legal here! How I wish I could say I want it. I want it to be over, I want to not be a burden any more, I want to just be free, to not feel any more, to not think any more. 

And now, all I have are my feelings. All I have are my thoughts. I can’t escape them. I can’t distract myself, I can’t keep the darkness away. 

I want to scream, I want to thrash about, I want to hurt everyone around me, and I want to hurt myself, but all I can do is stare blankly into the near distance. In silence. All I can do is lie here. 

All I can do is suffer...

[gold-from-straw]

Zero Degrees 3

Read from the beginning on AO3 if you prefer - this chapter has mentions of physical abuse and corporal punishment (poor Priyanka...)

Erika didn't get a chance to talk to Frio the next morning on the bus. The first thing she saw when she got on was Priyanka and Akeyo on the back seat, heads bent close, Akeyo rubbing Priyanka’s back. Instantly she forgot everything she’d planned to say to her crush and pushed past some year sevens to get to them. “Hey. You OK?”

Priyanka looked up at her, big brown eyes welling up with tears. “Dad went through my phone last night.”

Her heart sank and she sat down with a thump. “What did he find?”

She sniffed and Akeyo started rubbing her back more vigorously, like she could rub the fear and tension away. “James texted to tell me I looked beautiful yesterday. He… Dad was so mad.”

“God!” Akeyo said viciously. “I know he’s your dad, but… ugh! He’s such a jackass!” Her rubbing got so vigorous that Priyanka winced, and Erika squeezed Akeyo’s wrist. “Oh. Sorry.”

“What did he do?” Erika asked, draping her arm over Priyanka’s shoulders as well so it overlapped Akeyo’s.

She took a deep breath. “He just shouted. It’s OK, he didn’t… He said I’m too young to have a boyfriend.”

“That's stupid! There’s loads of girls in our class who’ve had boyfriends since prep school!”

“I know,” she grimaced. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to tell him that, though.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“He asked if I was sleeping with him,” she said quietly, picking at a thread on her skirt. “He wouldn’t listen when I said I wasn’t, just… he called me a whore.”

Erika sighed and rested her forehead against Priyanka’s shoulder. “Oh, Pri.”

“Asshole,” muttered Akeyo under her breath, but she tugged Priyanka closer. The three of them sat quietly together until the bus rolled into school.

Erika didn't see Frio at all during lessons that morning, and at break time she had to run an errand for Mr Henderson. She was beginning to think she wouldn't see him all day when she sat down for lunch with Akeyo, smiling at Priyanka all snuggled under James' arm.

"Um. Hi..."

Her head whipped up, and there he was, standing there, shuffling his feet and holding his plate of macaroni cheese. "Hi," she breathed.

"May I please sit with you?"

Akeyo nodded, her mouth full of salad, and shifted along the bench, pulling Erika when she forgot she had to move up too.

"Thank you again for yesterday," Frio said softly, glancing up at Erika quickly and away again at his food.

"That's OK. I hope your dad wasn't too annoyed about the cupcake thing."

He shook his head. "He wasn't annoyed at all!"

"Oh. He sounded mad, like he didn't want you to come over or something."

He shook his head again, braids flicking into his face. "It's not that. We just... we don't find it easy to make friends, I guess he was surprised anyone was asking."

"Aww," Akeyo said, leaning over with a smirk. "We’ll be your friends, Frio."

A flush rose up his cheeks, pushing away the silvery grey tint to his skin and turning him a warm brown. "Thanks."

"See?" Akeyo grinned. "Making friends is easy! So whatcha doing this weekend?”

Frio stared. “It is still only Wednesday!”

“Yeah, meaning we’re half way through the hellscape that is the school week.”

“I like school,” he said softly.

“I do too,” said Priyanka. “Ignore her, she’s just dramatic.”

Akeyo gasped and clutched her chest. “I am not!”

Erika shoved her friend. “So where do you usually sit at lunch, Frio? I don’t see you in the hall most days.”

James nodded and raised an eyebrow. “And she would know, huh.”

Akeyo and Priyanka both nodded, the traitors. Erika kicked them under the table.

“I usually take my food outside,” he said. “I… um… there are these birds in the field, if you put out crumbs they come really close.” He blushed again and Erika fought the urge to clutch at him and go ‘awwwww’.

“Oh, the colourful ones?” said Priyanka. “Yeah, they’re cute, aren’t they. Superb starlings, I think they’re called. Do you like animals then?”

He nodded. “I never got the chance to get close to animals where I used to live.”

“Where was that, the States?”

“North,” he replied, and Erika narrowed her eyes at him.

“North of what, man, like the North Pole?” James laughed.

“Haha, yes. I lived at the North Pole.”

“You’re funny,” James grinned, stealing one of Priyanka’s chips. “Are you Santa Claus?”

“No, that’s his dad, stupid,” Akeyo said. “I always knew Santa was black.”

“Wasn’t he Turkish?” Priyanka asked.

“Who, Frio’s dad?”

“No, idiot, St Nicholas, the original Santa Claus.”

Akeyo patted her hand and looked concerned. “Priyanka, honey… Santa isn’t real...”

Priyanka leaned over and smacked the cackling girl. “Don’t say that, his son’s sitting right there. You’ll give him a complex.”

***

Frio had never sat with the same person more than a couple of days in a row. He’d always seemed to blend into the background. Even Erika hadn’t wanted to sit with him too often in case she started to annoy him.

She’d thought he kept to himself because he didn’t like people much. But now he’d introduced himself to her group, she considered that tacit permission to include him in everything they did. And the way his eyes lit up when they found him at break time and sat at his bench without asking, or when Erika paired up with him in a physics experiment, made her wish she’d been brave enough to make friends with him earlier.

When he’d first arrived in the middle of year nine, people had flocked around him, but he’d been so quiet they got bored after a while. Better late than never, she thought, as he listened wide eyed and smiling to one of Akeyo’s stories about her three older sisters.

When Friday came around, James hugged Priyanka tightly in the bus queue. “You sure you don’t want me to send you a bitter breakup text to get your dad off your back?”

She shook her head firmly. “No. I’m fifteen, we’re not doing anything wrong. I’m just going to be brave.”

James frowned and looked at Erika over Priyanka’s shoulder. “OK. But if he gets mad—“

“I know,” she smiled and pulled back. “I’ll get out of there and go to Akeyo’s.”

They all nodded. “And if Akeyo hasn’t got space, ring me from her house and my mum will pick you up,” added Erika. "You’ll be able to stay as long as you like, I know it. Mum likes having guests.”

Priyanka huffed a laugh, then hugged James one last time and boarded the bus with the others. Erika sat with Frio across the aisle from her and Akeyo, and they slipped the windows shut with a screech as the bus pulled out, kicking up a storm of fine red dust.

"Do you think Priyanka is in danger?" Frio asked quietly as they clattered along the highway.

Erika checked to see that her friends weren't paying attention before leaning closer to him. "Her dad can be a bit… he loses his temper sometimes."

"With her, though?" he frowned.

"Well, yeah. Everyone gets smacked once or twice, but--"

"You get smacked? But why?"

She squinted at him. “Yeah... you know, when you're a little kid and you do something naughty, that's your punishment… has your dad never spanked you guys?"

"Of course not!" He looked absolutely horrified, and Erika's eyebrows shot up.

"Wow, OK. Well, maybe that's a cultural thing, because my mum used to smack my backside with a slipper when I was cheeky. Ask anyone, we were all smacked as children. Didn't do us any harm or anything--”

"But that is harm - hurting is harm!"

"You know what I mean - it only hurts for a moment, and we learned not to be cheeky, and we grew up to be polite human beings. My point is that this was all when we were little children. Priyanka's dad still does it now. Sometimes he hits her for the tiniest little things, sometimes he hits her really hard and she's just… are you OK?"

Frio looked like he was about to cry, his huge eyes fixed on Priyanka. His hands were clenching and unclenching and to Erika's horror his breathing was starting to speed up and become shallow. "Frio - Frio! Calm down, it's OK."

“But... but how can he? Her own father? What… what if he hurts her again? What can she do?"

"That's what we've been sorting out," she said, stroking his shoulder and rubbing on his wrist at the same time, trying to get him to relax his hands. "If she needs to, Akeyo only lives across the road from her. She can run over there and then phone me - Akeyo doesn't have much space in the house. Look, Frio, it's OK, really. This sort of thing has happened before, it always blows over. Priyanka's dad's been away most of this week, we're only worrying because he's coming back tonight. But James has been deliberately not texting her, so hopefully there won't be a reason for Mr Sharma to get angry."

Frio took a long breath and let it out slowly, shakily between pursed lips, staring out of the window. Erika kept rubbing his arm and wishing she knew the right thing to say, rather than blundering into things as always. "Are you OK now?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. Just… are you sure she'll be safe?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

Thank you so much to @red--thedragon, @the-lokes and @fullmetalcarer for interacting last week!!

[weemsbotts]

Screaming Boys and Crashing Wagons: How Halloween Mischief Stopped Northern VA Traffic

By: Lisa Timmerman, Executive Director

The phrase “trick-or-treat” usually does not strike fear into our hearts as children are not equipped to do us or our property harm if we refuse them treats (unless we offer them vegetables or toothbrushes, of course). While Halloween 2020 will certainly leave an impression, Halloween 1912 in Dumfries was perhaps more shocking and sensational. Sit back and enjoy this reminiscence.

“It was then that my Uncle Elvan told of the truly dreadful thing he had done on All Hallows Eve 1912. Old Mr. Quismond had died that morning and his body was in a casket in the Dumfries Methodist Church. Word of his death traveled fast in the little town. Later that morning one of Elvan’s mates, the most adventuresome in the group of scholars at the one room schoolhouse, purposed the friends meet that night and sneak into the church. “Let’s bring candles and tell ghost stories,” he suggested “…or are you just a bunch of ninnies?” No one wanted to be a scaredy-cat. It was decided they would meet at the church as soon as it was dark.

So, quite frightened at their daring, they met that night, opened the casket, lit the candles and told a ghost story. All would have been well if they had just left it at that, but boys, being boys, they did not. “Why not really scare someone?” the Tom Sawyer of the group suggested. “Things have worked out perfectly,” he argued, “We have a body and the best night of the year to pull a prank!” The other boys chimed in with suggestions: Let’s haul him down the hill on a hay wagon; let’s park him in the road with his body propped up; Yeah, people will think he wasn’t really dead or that he is a ghost; We can hide in the bushes and see what happens!

They put actions to works and took the body out of the casket and loaded it onto a wagon. The plan was to pull the wagon themselves, it was usually pulled by a horse, but they felt between the four of them they could manage the wagon. This was a bad miscalculation.

(Main Street in Dumfries, Virginia)

Their plan worked out much scarier and worse than they could have imagined. The four lads were not strong enough to hold the hay wagon on the steep him from the Church. It got away from them and careened wildly down the hill onto U.S. Route One wrecking when it hit the highway and spilling our poor old Mr. Quismond on the road! Hearing the commotion; screaming boys and crashing wagon, neighbors who lived beside the road, came out of their houses. Vehicles stopped because the wreck blocked the road. Confusion reigned, wasn’t this Mr. Quismond? Why wasn’t he in his coffin at the church? The mystery was never solved. The boys had disappeared as silently as cats. Elvan said he had never been so scared in his life. He ran the whole five miles to the Key’s farm on the Joplin Road. Some of the boys had been hurt when the wagon got away but somehow they all made it home. No one was ever caught but there were rumblings and grumblings in Dumfries for weeks to come, “If we ever lay holt of the boys that did this they should be tarred and feathered and then sent to the hoosegow!” She ended the story by noting Elvan never stole another body and “Can you see why I loved my Uncle Elvan so much?”

As you can imagine, Halloween was different in the early 1900s. In the 1920s and 1930s, children celebrated Halloween Eve aka “Mischief Night”, “Cabbage Night”, and “Devil’s Night”. Children reportedly overturned wagons, broke windows, and set fires. 

Although the narrative used the terms casket and coffin interchangeably, they are different. A coffin traditionally has six sides with no hinged lid, while a casket has four sides with hinged lid. By the 20th century, Americans generally favored caskets, and the Coffin Works Museum offered several theories pointing to the substantial changes of funerary practices wrought by the Civil War.

Driving by Duke Street today on Route One, you are probably more worried about heavy traffic and animals running into the road than dead people. However, some local residents say they can almost hear horses and wagons driving up and down Route One at night…perhaps they can also hear the inevitable curses the children probably yelled as Mr. Quismond took a sudden interest in traffic congestion.

(Keys Collection: Leary Cato and Elvan Keys @ the Old Farm Barn in Joplin)

Special thanks to the Keys family and Jeanne Martin for sharing their wonderful stories and reminiscences.

Note: Our virtual Halloween Tea is this Sunday, 10/11 @ 1pm. This tea will feature the history of Halloween along with our traditions, ghost stories, great Halloween recipes, game recommendations and more – all focused to help you plan your safe Halloween! Click here for more info and tickets.

(HDVI Archival Records: Merchant Family Stories & Folklore; TIME: Fabry, Merrill. A Brief History of ‘Mischief Night’, 10/30/2015; Newman Brothers & Coffin Works Museum: Hayes, Sarah. From Coffins to Caskets: An American History. 07/26/2017).