#i really want to get into beekeeping if i ever get a house so this is a dilemma (bees were my first major special interests/hyperfixations!

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I tried out a new challah recipe! It's a very soft bread and, if it makes sense, has a thin bite to it (as in, it's a very light bread). The dough was also surprisingly pleasant to work with! I didn't have to alter much of it at all in order to get to work

There's honey in it (I hate honey), but it's baked out pretty well, though it hasn't been baked out well enough that it can be a savory bread. If you added cinnamon or chocolate chips or something to sweeten it, I think the flavors would make even more sense. I think next time, I'll try to make it sweeter because the honey notes are confusing me a bit.

Good shabbos, everyone!

Recipe and credits below!

Ingredients (U.S.):

2 eggs

1 cup of water

1.2 teaspoons of yeast

1/3 cup honey

4.5 cups bread flour

1.2 teaspoons salt

1/4 cup oil

Optional: Everything bagel seasoning, sesame seed, cinnamon

In a bowl:

Break and combine both eggs. Set aside a small portion to serve as the egg wash. Stir well, add water, and stir until combined.

Before mixing well, add yeast, honey, and flour to the bowl

Add salt then oil. Mix.

Knead the dough for ten minutes

Cover the dough in a bowl until it doubles in size (approximately 45 minutes)

Deflate the dough, then separate into six equal parts

Roll out each ball, then braid the dough together

Use the eggs as an egg wash for each challah, then add any additional toppings

Bake at 350°F/176°C for 25 minutes

Here is the recipe in video format, by @jennmysterion on Instagram:

[diazsdimples]

I think Buck becoming a beekeeper after this would be hilarious actually. Like sure, the bees he faces are killer bees, stinging their was through half the population of Los Angeles and causing untold amounts of chaos, but I think he'd be like "🥺 but they were just following their instincts! People kept swatting at them and I'd sting someone that swatted me!" Anyways, after all that's done and the bees are safely collected and carted off to where they belong, Buck hops online and starts searching beehives and how to keep bees. He's still in his loft so he nominates Tommy and Eddie's backyards to be the Bee Lands (he argues bees will help cancel out Eddie's uncanny ability to kill every plant ever and Tommy's his boyfriend so he's gotta) and gets a couple of hives and a whole heap of honeybees delivered to both of their houses. It's a little difficult having split custody, especially considering the bee suits still give Eddie a nervous twitch, but Buck has the best time going over to each house and just chilling with the little guys, he initially doesn't want to take their honey but then does a bit more research and figures out a way to do it that's respectful and kind to the bees, and it becomes his favourite little hobby. He offers for the other members of the 118 to come over and look at the bees and see that they're really not so bad but for some reason no one really jumps at the offer.

[quirkwizard]

There isn't any real reasoning for why I made this. Maybe because I already did something like this with 1-A? I just thought it'd be a fun scenario to imagine where these characters would be if they had real jobs. Instead of ending up in various levels of dead or damaged. I will ignore characters that I think are simply too evil to have any real chances, like Moonfish, or others I just don't think are interesting, like Mange. That and most MLA because they already have real jobs. Them being redeemed would just be them going back to work with ankle bracelets on.

Mustard-Fumigator: If his gas can knock out and poison people that quickly, I imagine that it can kill bugs just as well. And if he comes across any particularly bad bugs, he always has his gun.

Giran-Salesman: I mean, it'd be basically be what he was doing before. Now instead of seeing illegal weaponry, he'll be selling used cars so expensive it should be illegal.

Spinner-Streamer: He can still play games and not leave his house, but now he will hopefully have a more healthy outlet for everything he is going through. He doesn't even need a VTuber set up. He is the goofy model.

Tomura-Waste Management: This allows Tomura to let out his destructive tendencies and can help get rid of a lot of debris and trash that is just laying around. Now instead of leaving a destroy wasted, he can clean up the destroyed waste.

Mr. Compress-Street Mage: Probably the most obvious pick out of everyone on this list. Between his power, his gimmick, and his natural showmanship, it all fits right into this kind of job. He doesn't even need to change his outfit to make it work.

Muscular-Coach: Since he can't be trust in any fighting based sport. I'm not sure if this would be as a gym coach or personal couch, but either way, he is going to take all that sadisms and ideas of conflict and channeling that aggression for other people's benefit.

Kurogiri-Travel Agent: As much as hero may be on the table, I think there would be some optics issues with that. Still he could send people where ever they want to go on vacation with a fraction of the rates. Just as long as they give a way to send them back home.

Dabi-Lead Singer: Specifically something in the metal or rock genre. He's got that perfect mix of voice, look, and angst to fit right into that kind of culture. And considering how many songs are written for people who don't like their dads, he'd have plenty of material for songs.

Toga-Photographer: Toga was the hardest out of all of them. I just went with something that could express herself more healthy, maybe even being a crime scene photographer, and being in a job where stalking someone is considered worthwhile experience for the job.

Twice-Odd Jobs: As much as I want to say tailor for his sick measuring skills, he doesn't really have any definable skills. So having him be around and help people with his dozens of clones seems fitting. That and there is so much comedic potential in them doing odd jobs week to week.

Gigantomachia-Tourist Barge: Instead of demolishing cities, Gigantomachia can use his tough body to show people around normally hazardous areas like oceans or mountains. He can even use the cheers of the people he's carrying as encouragement to boost his power.

Geten-Ice Cream Man: I prefer to think that Geten's abilities would cover ice cream as well. As such, it is only a natural conclusion that he would become an ice cream man. And knowing him, he will fight and train to be the best ice cream man on the planet.

Kuin-Beekeeper: Considering how bad of a spot bees are in, Kuin could do a real service to the community be helping to spread out pollen with her power. And hey, leading a bunch of bees would come naturally to her as a living insect.

Number 6-Motivation Speaker: Forget the amount of social manipulation he did in his own story, I say this job fits because of the amount of spite Number 6 has. It's that spite that allowed him to get going and fulfil his dreams. Now that's inspiring.

Overhaul-Doctor: I've already gone over how useful "Overhaul" would be in medical work and he already has plenty of experience with medicine. Heck, we can even have the other yakuza guys around as nurses and other kinds of assistants. Beside manner may need work.

Stain-Bounty Hunter: I wanted Stain to end up somewhere where he could technically good, like a detective, but a bounty hunter fits way more within his skill set. Plus, there is a lot of comedy potential. Imagine a poster him in the bond office say "Pay your bond or else!"

Gentle and La Brava-Social Media Stars: Basically what they were doing before. Now with hopefully less crime in between videos. Gentle could even spin his whole redemption for more views, telling his sad story in prison and his time trying to rehabilitate himself. Take that as genuinely or facetiously as you want.

[joshfutturman]

'hunted'

oneshot - derek has a vivid dream in which he's being hunted. (for a writing group im a part of, basically he has a memory in the form of a dream from the timeline of the movie!) (1k words) character - derek danforth (the beekeeper) tags: angst, nightmares, cussing, brief drug mention

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

derek wasn’t normally the type to get too many nightmares. he would never really remember his dreams at all. when he went to bed at night in whichever bedroom in his house he desired, beside whomever he desired, he was knocked out like a light. that’s just what happens when you have all the money you could ever dream of and stink of privilege, that was derek danforths life. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

it wasn’t like he never experienced stress. in reality derek was more stressed than he would ever let on. running his business wasn’t easy despite what people would say. a nepo baby who never had to want for anything. legitimacy and morals aside, derek worked his ass off. danforth enterprises was what it was today because of him. not anyone else. not his mother. and certainly not his father.

so it was no surprise that his nightmare that night rattled him.

from the get go, he felt a swirling sense of paranoia invade its way around his skull like a ghost as he slips into the nightmare. it seeps through every crack, every crevice it can worm its way into. that same fear spread down his limbs and across his back, making his shoulders grow tense.

this didn’t feel like work stress, it felt worse. it felt more intense. it felt more threatening. more than just mindless work shit was on his mind. why couldn’t he place it?

derek felt cornered, sitting in his mothers office. his eyes dart between the windows and the doors. it felt as though the walls were closing in, threatening to crush him. he shrinks back into the chair, his hand coming up to pick at the side of his face - a habit his mother loathed and never kept quiet about.

but mom wasn’t here. no one was. it was just derek, alone.

his phone buzzes and he jumps in his seat, frightening him more than it should. shakily, his hand reaches out to pick it up, holding it so tightly that he might snap it in half if he’s not careful.

there’s breathing on the other end, and that causes his back to straighten. “who the fuck is that?” he spits out, feeling his breathing pick up pace.

the other line stays eerily quiet and this freaks him out more. fuck. were they already nearby? his eyes dart towards the windows again, expecting to see a figure only to be greeted with. . . absolutely nothing. an impending sense of doom spurs in his mind, unsure of where to go to alleviate it. he felt trapped, cornered. and derek didn’t like that. he didn’t enjoy feeling like a prey animal, when all his life he always presented as predator.

“i said who the fuck is that?!” he calls out again, gripping the arm of the chair.

still nothing on the other end. until.

“i’m coming.” is all the voice says.

derek holds back a gasp, the voice confirming his fears.

he swallows hard and prays his voice not to shake, “fuck off. you can fucking try, bitch.” derek growls, but it’s clear to anyone who knows him just how much he’s rattled. before the other person can reply, he presses the disconnect button and throws his phone across the room.

breath escaping him, he pants, raking his fingers through his hair.

no one would let anything happen to him, right? there was no way. he was too important. there were so many people he could pay to protect his life. he could hear his fathers words ringing in his ears, ‘i told you so.’. derek lets out a whine and covers his ears.

no, no, no. this wasn’t happening. this absolutely fucking wasn’t happening right now.

every creek within the old walls had him jumping, completely on edge. his heart races away from him. he’s seconds away from calling for his mom, hands aching to grip onto something real, something that could ground him. he feels pathetic for wanting his mother, but something deep inside him tells him that not even she could make him feel better.

and he’s glad no one else can see him like this. he’d never act this way in front of anyone. derek wasn’t known for his calm and collected manner, but he tried to never show weakness in the form of fear. he kept it bottled up, hidden away until he could get his hands on something that made him feel at ease, usually in the form of that sweet white powder he loved so much.

so now, completely alone, he comes undone. he can feel tears form in his eyes as he grits his teeth. derek wasn’t ready to die. he had his whole life to live. who’d provide for his mom when he was gone? no one else could do the job like him. they’d just fuck it up. she’d lose her position and it’d be all their fault.

derek didn’t want to die. he couldn’t. silently he begs for more time.

until he’s ripped from his sleep with a gasp. derek grips the sheets as he sits up, gasping for breath over and over. for a few seconds, it feels like he’s still in that office. but after a few blinks, his surroundings come back to him. he’s home.

but it doesn’t feel the same. it doesn’t feel safe. he doesn’t feel so untouchable now. he almost feels. . . vulnerable.

he grabs at the bedsheets beside him and realises that no ones there. he suddenly regrets sleeping alone. he releases shaky breaths from his nose and reluctantly lays back down. gathering the duvet against him, he wraps himself tightly within it and lays with his back against the headboard, eyes scanning the room.

his bedroom suddenly felt too big. his eyes move between each object as if looking for any form of a threat. did the curtain just move? fuck. he was losing it.

the digital clock on his nightstand blinks: 3:21am. it was a long way to go till morning. and derek couldn’t bring himself to move.

instead, he sat like this until the sun crept into his bedroom, bringing a small sense of safety. but that feeling of unease stayed in his mind, pricking him whenever he got too comfortable. no time to relax, always on high alert.

he realises he isn't as untouchable as he once thought. and that thought. . . fucking terrifies him.

derek wasn’t ready to die.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

‧₊˚ dedicated tags: @helen-on-earth @fatinhadesiners06 @boonam @sun-spider13 @laurrrelise @sammygirlism @sleepyhutcherson‧₊˚ ily all sm!! thank you!

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

[vodika-vibes]

For Want of Honey

Summary: You're a beekeeper on Pabu, and Echo is one of your best customers. You like to think you're friends, and a long conversation on a hot summer weekend changes your relationship forever.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1245

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kiss-anon

You hum a quiet tune under your breath as you carefully set jars of honey out on the table in front of you. And then you set the bags of honey candy in their basket, and turn to pull out some homemade honey butter from where you store it on the trip between your home and the market.

And when you turn back to the stall you’re greeted by a blonde head of hair and dark eyes focused on one of the rolls you made fresh this morning.

“Good morning, Miss Omega.” You greet with a small grin as you lean on the table.

Omega’s gaze sheepishly snaps to meet yours, “Morning, Miss Bee.” She greets, “Your rolls smell really good. Did’ya make them this morning?”

“I did indeed. Would you like one?”

“I didn’t bring any credits,�� Omega admits.

“Well, that’s alright. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You hand her a roll and grin as she immediately shoves it in her mouth, “Your brothers not feeding you, kiddo?”

“She’s eating us out of house and home, I swear we go to the store once a day and we never have enough food.” An amused voice pipes up from the side, and you turn and grin at Echo.

“I can’t help it,” Omega mumbles, her face reddening, “I’m hungry.”

You wink at Omega, “You’re a growing girl. Besides, based on how tall your brothers are, you’re going to be a tall woman, which means you need those calories.”

Omega grins, “See Echo, I need to eat so much.”

Echo smiles at his sister, “I heard.” And then he shakes his head as she runs off, “Thank you for humoring her, and for feeding her. How much do I owe you?”

“For my best customer?” You joke as you favor him with a warm smile, and you’re rewarded with him nervously rubbing the back of his neck and his ears burning red, “No charge.”

He smiles at you, a small shy little smile that makes your smile grow wider, and he moves to stand fully in front of the stall, “Well,” He says, as he studiously avoids your gaze, “Do you have anything new for us to try?”

“Just the same stuff, I’m afraid,” You reply, “I haven’t had time to experiment, since I set up the new beehouse.”

“Another new one?” Echo asks, surprised. “How many do you have now?”

“That was number eleven.” You say with a delighted grin, “I’m thinking I’m going to try and make some meade…well, once I figure out how. I would hate for it to be bad.”

“I don’t think anything you make could ever be bad,” Echo says in return, his gaze serious as he looks at you, though when you beam at him, he quickly looks the other way, the blush covering his ears spreading down to his neck.

You giggle, he really is too cute. “Well, thank you for the compliment, Echo. But you should have tasted some of my first attempts at candy. They were awful.”

“I have a hard time believing that. You’re always so sure about everything.” Echo’s gaze flickers to yours, and he flashes a small smile, “I’ve always admired that. You don’t let anything get under your skin.”

You shift some of the jars so that they look a little nicer, “Well, I used to. When I was a kid. And then I moved out and cut out my toxic family, and it turns out that I’m not actually hotheaded. I just react poorly to people digging at my insecurities.” You pause and then flush, “Sorry! I’m not, like, trying to trauma-dump on you or anything! You’re just really easy to talk to-”

Echo laughs and shakes his head, “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I am.”

You sigh in relief, “That’s good. Here, have a roll. I made them this morning.”

Echo takes a roll with an amused quirk of his lips, “Thanks.” He takes a bite and is quiet for a moment, “You know,” He finally says, “I was a lot more confident before…well…” He motions to his scomp, “When I was whole.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, thinking on his words, “You know…you still seem really confident to me.”

“Sure, about fighting, and about military stuff. But anything else-”

You’re already shaking your head, “Echo, you come and talk to me week after week. You put up with my flirting and my jokes, and yeah, you blush and get a little flustered sometimes, but you never stop coming. That sounds like confidence to me.”

Echo pauses, and then his gaze snaps to yours, “Wait. Flirting?”

“...ah.” You sit up, and tuck your hair behind your ear, “You didn’t notice that-um…you can forget I said that.”

“No, no. I want to hear more. What’s this about flirting?” He asks, and you watch, amused, as he settles into his skin in a way that you’ve only seen glimpses of in the months you’ve known him. 

“It’s really not that important-”

“I need you to understand that there’s literally nothing more important to me at the moment than this.” Echo says with a grin.

You laugh softly, “Honestly, I thought you knew, and that was why you kept coming back.”

“I keep coming back because I like the way you smile at me.” Echo counters, “You smile at me like…well…like how women normally smile at Hunter.”

“I like you. I think you’re funny, and you’re fun to talk to, and you come to my stall every week.” You pause, and then you favor him with a small smile, “You know, you can always come to my farm. I won’t make you leave.”

He stares at you, surprised, “I…really? I thought that you’d be busy.”

“Oh, I’m always busy, but I can give you a suit, and you can follow me around while I work.” You grin at him, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I might take you up on that offer.” Echo replies with a small smile. “Although,” He says slowly, thoughtfully, “I was thinking-”

“Yes?”

“Well, you know that the fireworks festival is at the end of the week, right?”

“I’m aware, yes.” You say with a laugh, “The flyers have been everywhere for the last month.”

“Do you want to come to the festival with me?” Echo asks, “Like. As my date?”

You beam at him, “I would love that!”

“You…you would?”

“Honestly, I was going to ask you if you hadn’t asked me. I was just trying to work up the nerve to do it.” You admit.

“You were nervous?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d say yes. Now it’s not a concern.” You grin at him, “Also, aren’t you supposed to be watching Omega?”

Echo blinks at you. Twice. And then he curses, “I have to go!”

You giggle, and press a small jar of honey into his hand, “Here you go, on the house. Maybe you can stop by my place tomorrow? I’m a pretty decent cook, even with things that aren’t honey related.”

Echo twists the bottle between his fingers, and he grins at you, “I’ll be there.” And then he slides the jar into the cloth bag that he’s carrying. He flashes one last crooked grin and a wave, and then he vanishes into the swelling crowd.

And you giggle in sheer delight, before you calm yourself and start humming a delighted little tune. This is going to be the best thing ever!

[obetrolncocktails]

Ignition | Danny Wagner X f!Reader X Jake Kiszka | Part 7

Warnings: angst, sexual tension, lying, cheating, fluff, use of alcohol, drugs. IT'S JAKE'S TIME TO SHINE.

Word Count: 4,459

Summary: Ignition is beginning to take a sharp turn, and Y/n's stuck in the middle of a terribly difficult situation.

Listen to the playlist!

Previous Chapter |

“What?” You asked Danny, who kept looking at you with too much enthusiasm. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” You took a bite of your chocolate croissant, leaning over the table to get as few crumbs on your clothing as possible. 

“No reason,” he evaded the question, taking a swig of his cold brew. He licked his pointer finger and reached forward to press it to the croissant crumb that landed on your– well, Danny’s ribbed black t-shirt. You watched as he stuck it to his tongue. 

“No, something’s up,” you argued. “What is it?” You asked brightly, grinning. 

“Well, since you’re so cute, I think I’ll tell you,” he said finally, resting his elbows on the cafe table in front of him. “My friend, Madie, from high school is getting married next month, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me,” He looked up at you with a gentle sparkle in his eyes. “She would love you, you know. Plus, it’s back home in Frankenmuth. Also thought it would be cool to show you around. With it getting colder, it’s really beautiful this time of year.” You couldn’t stop smiling. You loved how he continued to throw in more reasons to appeal to you.

“I’d love to go!” You said excitedly. “Now I can see what all the hype is about. Maybe I’ll force you to go to Bronners for like what, the hundredth time?” 

Danny eyed you with amusement. “Probably thousandth.” he grinned, reaching for your hands. “But I’d walk through the store as many times as you like as long as I get to see that smile.” 

“You’re such a goob,” you told him with a wide smile. 

“You just caught me in a mushy moment, that’s all.” He smirked, standing up from his seat, reaching for the pastry wrappers on the table. “Gotta shed the rough and tumble exterior every now and then.”

“Liar. You’re so soft, Wagner.” You moved in to hug him from the side as he moved to toss away the garbage. “You’re the softest, sweetest biker I know.” You loved the way he looked down at you, his lips curling upward while his cheeks pinkened gently.

“Only for you,” he grinned, leaning down to kiss you on the top of your head. He’d driven the motorcycle today, surprising you at your front door with a helmet of your own, being sure to throw in a practical joke by placing a “passenger princess” sticker on the back of it. 

“Where next?” You asked, pulling the helmet over your head. 

“How much do you love Fall?” He asked, tugging his own helmet over his head, straightening it. 

“You know I love it. I literally just changed all of the decor at home and made you facetime me while doing it.” You watched the wrinkles form at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. 

“How about caramel apples, apple picking, apple cider donuts…?” He asked. “And pumpkin patches.” 

“What are you planning?” You asked him, poking his belly several times with the brightest smile on your face. He pulled you in, tilting his head down to look at you.

“How about a Fall festival?”

“What? It’s already time?” You said excitedly. “I’ve never been!” 

“Wanna go?” 

“Is that even a question? Get on the bike!” Danny chuckled softly before snapping the visor of his helmet down, obscuring his eyes. 

You watched as he stepped over the bike, straddling it. “Jump on, honeybee.” You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you adored the names he called you. 

Weeks ago, you’d noticed that a colony of bees had begun to nest under Danny’s front porch. It turned out that you knew far more about honeybees than you ever thought you did, and while you explained their habits and lifecycle to him, he stood leaning against his house grinning at you while beekeepers removed the bees and the biggest parts of the hive. “You’re my little honey bee,” he had said after a while, pulling you in for a soft kiss. He made you feel radiant; like no matter the weather, he’d be the sun on your skin, keeping you smiling every day. 

You hugged him close, feeling protected wrapped around him as he drove. The ride took a while, but you didn’t mind, busying yourself as you stared up at the passing trees, noticing how their colors have begun to change over the last two weeks. After a while, you felt his gloved fingertips interlacing with yours as you rested your head against his back.

Two weeks Later

“I probably won’t see you tonight,” Danny explained. “Dave’s show won’t be over until probably one, and then he asked me to help tear down.” You watched as he plucked his hoodie off of your couch, pulling over his head. “You sure you don’t wanna come?” He asked, grabbing his keys. 

You shook your head, taking a step toward him. “I just feel like being home tonight, baby.” You tilted your head up to him, waiting for him to kiss you. “Will you come here after you finish?” He leaned downward and kissed your lips softly before responding. 

“It might be really early in the morning,” he explained. “I know you have work.”

“I don’t care,” you shrugged, reaching for his hand. “Kiss me again. That first one was so good.” You watched the smile that you loved so much grow wider across his face. 

He leaned back down and kissed you several times, humming into every kiss, and just when he pulled away, you tugged him back down by the strings of his hoodie and stole one last hot kiss. “I’ll miss you.” 

“Don’t worry, Bee,” he said softly. “Keep the bed warm for me, ‘kay? I’ll be back before you know it.” You watched him leave, his corvette roaring down the street as he drove. 

You spent most of the evening lazing about on the sofa, letting your mind wander, but after a while, you realized that there was no hope when it came to combating boredom. You’d considered reaching out to friends, and while you knew you’d have fun, you felt a bolt of nervousness move through your body as you thought about Jake. You and him hadn’t spent time together in a long time, and, considering the conversation that you had with him at rehearsal, you figured you’d make things a bit easier by reaching out to him. 

Pulling out your phone, you selected his contact and pressed ‘call.’ You listened to the dial tone ring several times before he answered. 

“Hey Y/n,” he answered, his tone particularly bright and eager. 

“Hey. What are you up to?” You asked him, moving past awkward small talk. You listened as you heard the background noises of him moving around. 

“I’m at home debating if I want to drink or smoke myself into oblivion, if I’m being honest. It’s been a long ass day. What about you?” He asked. “Did you work today?”

You shook your head though he couldn’t see you. “No, but I work tomorrow. I’ve just been sitting around the house. Danny went to Dave’s show tonight, but I just didn’t feel like going out. I was wondering if you wanted to come over,” you finally said, feeling nervousness well in your gut. 

“You sure he’d be okay with that?” Jake asked carefully. 

“Yeah…we’re friends, right?” You asked slowly.

“Yeah–yeah we are,” Jake answered just as hesitantly. His tone sounded strange to you, but you dismissed it. 

 “Do you have prerolls?” You asked him. “It’s been forever since we’ve smoked, and honestly I could use it.”

“Is that even a question?” He asked with a soft chuckle. “I’ll be over in half an hour.” 

It was a relieving feeling to break at the walls that had grown between you and Jake. There was still so much tension between the two of you, but at the same time, you knew that he missed you just as much as you missed him, and you hoped that tonight would ease some of those uneasy feelings. 

Jake was late, of course, appearing at your door almost an hour later with a grocery bag in hand, a dark flannel shirt layered on top of a simple white t-shirt. “Howdy,” he said as he stepped into your house, holding a grocery bag. “I had a craving so I stopped at the store.” You watched as he pulled out two colorful, flat boxes out of the bag. “You remember these?” He asked. 

Your smile grew wide as you realized what they were. He’d picked up the pillsbury halloween cookies you loved, getting a box of each type–ghosts and jack-o-lanterns. “Oh my God!” You said with far too much excitement. “I fucking love these, holy shit!” 

“Jeez, if I knew you’d be that excited, I would have thrown in some more.” You looked at him and rolled your eyes. “I figured if we’d be smoking, we might as well have some snacks ready to go,” he grinned, walking into your kitchen and reaching into your cabinets to retrieve a sheet pan. 

“Make yourself at home,” you scoffed with a teasing grin. He turned over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at you. “You missed me, don’t lie.” You watched as he shut the cabinet door with his foot, and placed the pan on the sheet pan on the countertop. 

“I did,” you said genuinely. “It’s been a long time since we’ve just–” you fished for words. 

“Hung out?” He asked, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah, but at the same time– I don’t know, it’s weird.” 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said gently, glancing at you. “Weed, cookies, and a scary movie. Simple as that, right?” 

You nodded, releasing a heavy sigh. “Exactly.” 

Fifteen minutes later, fresh cookies were ready, and Jake had already burned himself in the attempt to pry them from the sheet pan too early, eager to steal the first cookie for himself. “That’s what you get for being impatient!” You scolded him. 

“Oh trust me, I’m very patient,” he said, looking into your eyes with an expression you couldn't quite place. 

You were silent for a long moment, watching him wiggle a spatula pitifully underneath several of the cookies. You watched them crack down the middle, sticking to the pan. “Jake, you really suck at this,” you admitted with a smirk. 

“It’ll eat the same. Fuck it,” he said, shoveling broken cookie into his mouth. 

“You’re literally a psychopath,” you teased him, grimacing at the wad of cookies in his fist. 

“I’m your worst nightmare,” he smirked. “When have you known me to ever be a normal, functioning human?”

You shook your head, reaching for a cookie, testing it for warmth and structure before popping it into your mouth. “Come on,” You said with a full mouth, sliding the spatula underneath the cooling cookies, placing them on a cold plate. You stepped over to the refrigerator and retrieved a half-full bottle of wine. “Do you have a lighter?” You asked Jake over your shoulder as he followed you to your bedroom upstairs. 

He nodded.

It was an older house, and given its character, the largest window in your room opened over the slant of the roof, which allowed for ease of access. You and Jake had spent countless nights crawling through this window lying under the stars, usually accompanied with liquor, wine or weed. You remembered the many evenings where you and Jake had spent hours talking about everything and nothing at all. Your mind poked at the more vulnerable thoughts, and you considered why you’d never spoken to him about your feelings on that roof while drunk or high. At least your feelings would have been protected–at least until you sobered yourself again. You silenced the thoughts in your head, hoping that the substances would keep your mind from wandering back to the unanswered questions. 

Dusk was rolling in quickly, and to the west you could see the last dying, pale streaks of pink that began to vanish into the horizon. “I can’t tell you the last time I’ve been up here,” you told him as you stepped out of the window, moving to sit in your usual place tucked between the angled pitch of the roof where it created a gable over the house. Here, you could recline comfortably against the shingles and watch the sky. 

“May,” Jake said, coming to sit cross legged beside you. You watched as he fiddled with the bracelets on his wrists, his long hair falling into his face. 

“What?” You asked him. 

“May 14th,” he continued. “That’s when we were out here last.” 

“How do you remember that?” You eyed him, surprised and impressed at his memory. 

“Just a good memory,” he answered with a shrug. His gaze remained downturned, his tone sounding evasive. You dismissed his strange disposition and leaned back to watch the sky darken above. You heard him dig into his pockets, and as you looked over, you saw him pull out the first joint, placing it between his lips. Shielding it from the wind, you watched as his hand cupped over the joint as he lifted the lighter to the end. It had been just as long since you’d smoked, and honestly, you’d craved it for a while now. Of course, you could have gotten high on your own, but you never smoked by yourself. It had always been yours and Jake’s way of celebrating the end of a hellacious week, or a way to say good riddance to particularly awful days. Plus, he was the one that had initially pulled you into the bad habit of being the occasional stoner. 

You watched as he took a long drag from the joint, the cherry glowing bright red as the paper burned. He exhaled through his nose, an opaque wisp of white smoke looping into the air in front of him. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinched it, pulling it from his lips and passed it over to you before leaning back on his elbows, shaking the hair from his face. 

The idea of his lips having touched the joint in your hand sent static coursing through your body even though you weren’t sure why you still felt this way. You thought you’d pushed the feelings away for long enough. You’d spent the last few months silently telling yourself that with enough time, the attraction would lessen, and this affliction would fade. It was becoming more and more apparent that you were terribly naive to believe Jake would cease to invade your thoughts. 

“What?” He asked, noting your hesitation as you looked down at the burning joint in your hand. 

“Oh, nothing,” you chuckled nervously, bringing it to your lips. You sucked on the end, breathing in the intoxicating essence, feeling the familiar burn in your lungs. You coughed as you took in the drag, unintentionally wasting the first moment of relaxation. You heard Jake’s laugh clang through your ears like church bells, and you couldn't help but grin too, curling forward to cough again. 

“Fuck,” you chuckled. “It’s been a while.” You took in another drag and willed yourself to hold in the smoke for a long moment, feeling your muscles relax and your mood lighten as you exhaled through your mouth in a long huff. You passed the joint back to him, watching silently as he took another puff on it. The thick, sulfurous odor hung low in the air, the headiness of the substance calming your senses as you leaned back against the roof, humming softly. 

“You always do that,” he said quietly, turning to you with an enthused grin. 

“Do what?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 

“Hum while getting high,” he smirked. “I always loved that about you.” You looked at him for a long moment before turning back to look up at the stars. The moment was awkward, but you let it float. 

“Loved?” You asked him, willing yourself to not look at him. “Why past tense?”

Jake cleared his throat before speaking. “I didn’t mean it that way, I just meant–” he began, turning to you, pulling his knees to his chest where he sat. “You know, it’s been a while,” he explained. You nodded as you took in what he said. 

“I don’t want to be past tense in your life,” you told him quietly, your filter dissolving quickly. 

“Trust me, you could never not be in my life,” he assured you. 

“You weren’t for almost two months, Jake.” You tilted your head and looked at him. “You still didn’t answer me when I asked you.”

His expression moved to that of confusion. “Answer you about what?” 

“Why did you let our relationship fall apart? Why was I the one who had to pick it all up again when I was the one that was hurting? You should have been there for me. You know you should have.” You paused for a moment as you looked up at the sky, sighing deeply. You reached for the bottle of wine that you brought and slugged down a long gulp, waiting for him to speak. He remained silent. 

“Why can’t you answer me, Jake?” You raised your voice slightly, anger pitching higher and higher. “Every time I practically beg you to give me an answer that isn’t half bullshit, you give me nothing.” You stood up, and he echoed your movement, standing up as well. 

“Y/n, relax–” 

“Don’t tell me to relax, Jake!” Anger began to boil out of you. “Answer me! Why can’t you just be honest with me?!” 

“Because I’m fucking in love with you!” His eyes grew wide with frustration, his hands flying out in front of him as he lost his composure. “Okay?!” Silence lingered in the air, the only noise supplied by the passing cars below, and faint police sirens going off deeper in the city. You felt the evening breeze kiss your face. 

“You told me–” you began, taking a step toward him.

“And I’ve regretted it ever since.” 

You looked at him, unsure of what to say or what to do, but you knew one thing for sure. Those seven words simultaneously catapulted you into the heavens and slammed you back into the earth. Your mind wandered between all possible choices that you could have and should have made, but your body decided before you could stop yourself. You reached for his hand, and he pulled you in closer. In a combination of inebriation and poor impulse control, you let yourself drift into his space. And there he was. One of his hands laced through your hair, cupping the curve of your cheek, his thumb resting softly against your cheek as he tilted your head upward, the other placed on the side of your face. 

He watched you for a long moment, and when you did not deny his touch, he closed the remaining distance and kissed you hard. His touch was intensely possessive as he devoured you, mind, body and soul. You pressed your body against him, images of the last two years with him spinning through your mind. Jake would have usually approached something like this with more care, but tonight, either the substances or his impatience had turned this into a desperate embrace, a physical embodiment of the words that were so difficult for him to admit. He wanted you, and he knew he couldn’t have you–not honestly. He left you breathless, heaving for more air and more of him, but before it could move any further, you pushed him back gently with your hand against his chest, placing your forehead against his as you regained your breath and composure. 

“We can’t–” you began. 

“I know,” Jake said, his tone thin and breathless. “I’m too late.”

You weren’t sure what to say to him, because though you knew that he could sense the deep attraction and desire you had for him, you were already spoken for. You were with Danny, and you didn’t see that changing any time soon. You had no choice but to nod in response to him. 

“You are.” You felt his fingertips looping through your hair, spinning pieces of it around his fingertips as he paused there in the embrace. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry.” He took a step backward, and when he did, you could see the deep sadness set in his eyes, his hands falling down to his sides. You nodded slowly, hugging your arms close to your body, still feeling the reminder of his lips on yours.

You knew that this would create yet another rift between you both, and though you dreaded tonight’s outcome, you weren’t going to let it end here. “I’ll–I’ll go,” he said, bending down to reach for the untouched plate of cookies. 

“Jake, no–” you reached out for him. “Stay. Please–,” you watched as his gaze moved to your hand on his arm. He looked at you for a long, agonizing moment before he offered you a thin smile. “Don’t leave.” 

“Okay–okay,” he said, and you could sense the hesitation in his tone. His eyes were dark with want and regret, but you ignored it, knowing that you’d moved too close to dangerous territory. You offered him the same smile, mostly to reassure yourself before bending to pick up the wine bottle and plate of cookies, heading inside first, and hearing him follow close behind. 

“Please don’t say anything about–you know,” you pleaded with him as you landed at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Who exactly would I tell?” He asked, his eyes twinkling brightly for a split second. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I don’t know, you’ve got two brothers who are possibly the nosiest people I’ve ever met,” you teased. “Just please. Danny can’t know.” 

Jake stuffed his hands into the pocket of his jeans and nodded. “Our secret.” 

Secret.

The word twisted through your ears like barbed wire– sharp and painful. You nodded. 

“Can we just–watch a movie or something?” You asked him. It was getting late, and with Danny away, you really didn’t want to be alone. You’d gotten so used to switching between staying at Danny’s and him staying with you, that staying alone left you feeling unsettled. 

“Of course!” Jake said, practically vaulting over the couch, reaching for the remote. “Are you feeling in a spooky mood?” He asked brightly. 

“I’m in the mood for a stupid scary movie. You know, like the ones where the blonde with big tits gets killed first?” You grinned wider as his lips curled upward with amusement.

“How about Scream?” He suggested. “That’s a classic.” 

“If you can find it on the TV, sure.” You came to sit on the opposite end of the couch, reaching for the same bottle of wine from earlier and tilted it back, slugging down the sweet liquid. 

“Ah! Here we go!” He selected the movie and pressed play. You and Jake had watched plenty of movies before, and when you had become bored of the movie you were watching, you’d let your mind wander to different scenarios of what a life with him might look like. Now, watching this movie, you tried to force yourself to focus on the storyline. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Jake, who sat faced forward, picking at his jeans. 

Then, inevitably, your mind slipped from the movie, creating a new one in your head, painting different futures with both Jake and Danny and then comparing them to one another. Eventually, after you’d done enough of this, you felt your eyelids becoming heavier and heavier until you fell into the arms of sleep.

Jake’s POV

I feel her warmth against my skin as she sleeps, her head resting against my shoulder as she shifts in her sleep. I finish the movie while she sleeps, not because I am interested in the story, but because I want to have an excuse to enjoy her closeness for as long as possible before we have to return to reality. I change the program on the TV to something uninteresting, turning the volume down enough to fall asleep while hearing the aimless chatter. I ache for more of her, but relish in the closeness that we currently have here on this couch. I fall asleep with the memory of her lips on mine. 

***

“What are you doing here?” You heard as Danny spooked you awake. From where you lay, you couldn’t see him because you were wrapped around Jake, one arm under his body, your legs wrapped around him. You quickly crawled off of him as Jake stirred. 

“Wha-?” Jake asked sleepily, squinting his eyes up from the couch as he moved to right himself. 

“What are you doing here?” Danny asked again, his tone almost accusatory. You didn’t like the way his eyes roamed over Jake’s body, and even more so, the way he looked at you left you feeling hollow, as if caught in the act. 

“We were watching movies and fell asleep,” you said quietly, standing up from the couch. “We lost track of time.” 

“You’re not even dressed, Y/n. Don’t you have work?” Danny asked, his tone slicing through any chance at you having a good morning. 

“What time is it?” You asked, reaching for your phone, which was dead. 

“It’s seven,” he answered, crossing his arms across his chest. “Don’t you have to work at eight?” You nodded sleepily and stretched. 

“What are you doing here, babe?” You asked him. “You didn’t show up after the show.” 

“It was so late, and it just made more sense to crash with Dave. I texted you, but you didn’t answer. I brought your favorite breakfast. I figured we’d eat and then you could go to work, but now I don’t think we have time.”

“I’m just gonna head out,” Jake said, ruffling his messy hair with his fingertips. 

“Good idea,” Danny said frankly, narrowing his eyes at him. Jake didn’t look away from Danny, only returned his gaze with equal intensity. 

As he left, Jake offered you a sheepish goodbye, and you watched him walk out of the front door without looking back. 

“What was that, Danny?” You asked him wide eyed.

“Do you have something to tell me?” His eyes were dark with jealousy. 

“I don’t. Is there a problem?” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“Here.” Danny handed you the bag he’d been holding. It was from Carlotta’s, one of your favorite breakfast places. 

“Nothing happened,” you lied. Something did happen, just not what Danny thought. 

“Okay,” he said, though you knew very well that it wasn’t.

End of Part 7.

Taglist: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @astreamofcolors, @sammysobaby, @gretavanfreakmadie, @weneedsomehealing123, @sarahstardust7, @strawberryblondeee, @squirreledelman,@madneedshelp, @watchingover-hypegirl, @llightmyllovee, @moralmorbid, @gretavangroupie, @jordie-gvf-admin, @brujamagik, @gretasmokerising, @ascendingtothestarsasone, @mama-likes72, @gold-mines-melting, @myownparadise96, @sanguinebats @sulkyrie, @mackalah, @interstellar-shores, @jakekiszkasmommy, @laneygvf, @overtheehillsandfarawayy, @takenbythemadness, @joshskittytickler21, @jaketlove, @gretasfallingsky, @starshine-gvf, @itsdannysworld, @lipstickitty, @scoreofinfantryvines, @capturethechaos, @tripthelightfatality @hippievanfleet @demolitionndann @thetroublegetssoloud71, @malany-gvf, @gvfmarge, @idontlikelizards, @dont-go-home-without-me, @ace-harrington, @jjwasneverhere, @writingcold @starcatcherry @cherrybugbaby @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface

[transit-fag]

@renegade4-13 Here is the current draft for the story under the read more, not all characters have been introduced yet, but this is what I have written so far

Today is the 3rd Sunday of the Month, this means that the city of Saltpeter’s oddities, mistakes, and rarities have come together for Brunch, the national pastime of this peculiar crowd, among them are 2 librarians, a museum curator, a traveling beekeeper, a pen crafter, and about 20 other peculiar fellows. Take great note on the pair of drab brown haired people sitting at the very back of the train station restaurant. These boring sorts go by the names of Danny Jones and Danielle Jones and hold absolutely no relation to each other.

The thing about Danny Jones and Danielle Jones that is so interesting is not the fact that they share a birthday or last names despite being unrelated in any way other than a lesbian aunt 7 generations back, is the fact that these are the 2 most dull and boring individuals you will ever meet. Both have the personality of sliced bread and they aren’t much better in fashion either. There is nothing special about either Jones, they both live completely ordinary lives as shopkeepers on opposite ends of town. The most eventful thing either will do in a month is a Sunday Brunch. And yet both have managed to obtain a loving relationship with incredibly interesting people. And more interesting still is the fact that both are going to wind up dead at the end of the month.

Now to understand why this will happen, you must understand Saltpeter, importantly there are 4 cultural institutions in the city of Saltpeter, Firstly is the Library, it is one of the 3 which is actually known to the people of Saltpeter, and houses exactly 17,943 books and 67 are currently checked out. Next is the Museum of Maria Fernando, a town crazy lady who runs a museum on the way things used to be, this is the institution people like to forget, despite mattering quite a lot to the city, it has received exactly 17 visitors this month and stays afloat via Maria’s wife’s second cousin’s generous yearly donations in exchange for copies of old novels. The 3rd cultural institution is the rail station, it is on the route of the oldest train in the nation, the California Zephyr and is run by the best chef in the city, Leaf Ann Smith, capable of both killing a man and cooking in Omelette in under 20 minutes. Finally there's the Pen shop, they sell pens, specifically fountain pens, each are hand made by a Saltpeter craftsman, it made the list because we were paid 72$ to add it. If someone wants to stretch the definition of an institution, they could get it up to about 20 institutions and a playhouse worth of cultural amenities, but they would also have to include the brunch of the misfits of Saltpeter, which really shouldn’t be added on principle since it happens in Leaf Ann Smith’s train station anyways.

Now back to the Brunch, something very important is about to happen, There will be a rather large toast to the group. This is on account of it being the 3rd anniversary of the start of the groups monthly meetings. Somehow that is a point of pride among the members due to how it is the longest any Brunch group in Saltpeter has lasted after the Infamous Brunch fights 20 years ago. The Brunch fights were a rather dreary matter for such a pleasant pastime. 27 dead and 63 injured over a week. All because of bad French Toast at an upscale restaurant near downtown Saltpeter. And when I say bad, I mean bad, it was soggy, barely toasted, and didn't have any fruits except the one eating it. It's not even like Saltpeter doesn't have any strawberries, it was built on the largest strawberry farm west of the Mississippi. How do you fuck up French Toast that badly? How?

Oh right, the Toast to the Brunch crew, A tall woman in a Green Dress, a leather Jacket and Gold Hoop earings stands up, her hair is cut in a pixie cut. She grabs a Mimosa off the table and begins to talk. Hurricane Jane Rivers as they call her is many things, a lesbian, crazy, a storm chaser, dangerous, a purveyor of Pancakes, a painter and an aerial ace, but one thing she is not is consise. It would take 7 paragraphs to summarize her speech to that disparate group of oddities. In short though, she was thanking them for the best 3 years of her life. Little did she know, only half of them would see next month.

As her glass hits the glass of another member of the Brunch, a whisper rings through the air.

A tick of a second

And Bang, the train comes to a screeching halt outside the station, passengers get off as Leaf Ann Smith scrambles to hide her current mess of a Diner from the view of the wealthy tourists from downtown the tracks. The train is early for once. Precisely 17 minutes and 6 seconds early, something that should not have been possible given the fact that the train tracks were under repairs between Omaha and Saltpeter. And the train had a 2 minute delay when it arrived at the last station. This is all irrelevant if not to show how off guard it caught Leaf Ann Smith who usually manages to keep incredibly on top of the schedules of the train so she can run the station and Diner at once. Leaf Ann Smith is a busy Woman between the Diner, the Station and her time moonlighting as the union negotiator for between the carpenters guild and Sylvia Ink the sole crafter of fountain pens in Saltpeter and a person notoriously bad at paying their union dues. Now in a hurry, she rushes to kick out the Brunch party and clean up the messes left behind in her diner today. She had to rush the 20 people ot for a rather simple reason, she needs money to run a diner and the train is what brings her the best customers each day. As the crowd of weirdos and homosexuals scurries away. One Slyvia Ink bumps right into a Jim Halder. The only man in the city who still knows their face.

Jim Halder is a professor at the University of Saltpeter and has 40 years of Tenure there, starting as a professor at 31, despite being in his 70s, he looks rather young, with a smooth face and deep black hair, this however is a lie. If you look closely at his hair, you’ll notice a long white steak and an indent on his face above his left eye. This is because Jim’s face is not his first, while studying in the mines of Saltpeter, his face was burned off, and a new wooden one had to be constructed by Sylvia Ink, one of the only 4 things they ever made that wasn’t a fountain pen, the other 3 are another less lifelike mask, the hilt of a blade, and pen holder to hold their pens. Jim is a man of learning, giving every book he writes to the library after he publishes it, 14 of the books that are currently checked out were donated by him. If you were to inspect Jim closely you would also find that you could knock him over quite easily with a single punch due to his slim frame. The university that he works at is not considered a cultural institution by even the most generous people in Saltpeter because nothing of interest has been produced in the for 67 years. Well apart from Sylvia Ink and Jim Halder, and their incredible works of course, the two little wooden people of Saltpeter.

Jim was naturally surprised to see Sylvia at the station, but glad nonetheless to see that young fellow out of the workshop. When they bumped into each other, quite literally, as Sylvia had been too focused on a croissant to notice the man ahead of him. He proposed to the young carpenter that they go over to the old river park for a stroll to discuss the terms for the new project.

Despite being a chilly 50 degrees out, if you were to head across town from the rail station, over to the river. You will find 2 men on the banks of the river. One is sitting in a rather large Sycamore tree, reading a book, when he hears the train rush past. He is wearing a blue sweater and long pants, the other man is dressed quite poorly for the weather, he is wearing nothing but a swimsuit and his golden locks of hair. He stupidly planned on Swimming in the river today. He is 6 feet tall and somehow not freezing. These peculiar fellows meant to be at the brunch but the one in the Sweater, Alex Cela had set his pocket watch 3 hours behind. Even knowing this now, he was still caught off guard by the train crossing over the river since the train had not been early in 3 months. Despite being totally different, one a bit of an idiot and the other a top marks student at the University of Saltpeter, they have been dating for 2 months, and six days if either had remembered to keep track of that. They met at the park, Alex was trying to paint the trains and Damien had been trying to teach a cat how to swim, the pair of them instantly became friends after Alex stopped trying to attack Damien for ruining the painting. And the two started dating a week after they met, when Damien kissed Alex under an Oak tree in the town square. These 2 lovers were not however the only people in the park. There were about 400 give or take 27 people in that park on this chilly morning. But none of them Matter, None of them except for Emily Rock

[the-hype-dragon]

Books I Read in October

Books I finished:

The Starry Rift by James Tiptree, Jr. aka Alice Sheldon - 4/5

Collection of three short stories, loosely connected by setting and the overarching theme of self-sacrifice. Much less cynical than anything in the other Tiptree collection I've read, Her Smoke Rose Up Forever (which I thought was excellent). Overall I enjoyed this, though the third story dragged in the middle. "Good Night, Sweethearts" was the only one without non-human aliens and it was also the weirdest, but I liked it the most.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson - reread, 5/5

(I say this is a reread, but I don't think I really understood it the first time I read it, years ago.) Tragic story of repressed woman who gets possessed by a haunted house. As I was reading this I could tell Stephen King really liked it, The Shining has a pretty similar premise and conclusion. It's scary but I view it as more of a tragedy. Has two adaptations, both called The Haunting, from 1963 and 1999; I don't think either movie really does the book justice but the '63 version is worth a watch. But also: just read the book.

Chalice by Robin McKinley - 4/5

Beekeeper-turned-sorceress Mirasol saves her demesne and her love interest from evil opportunistic politicians from elsewhere. Very weird and whimsical in a way I think I've only ever seen McKinley pull off. Kind of meanders in a way I didn't like at first but once you get into the flow of the story it's easy to follow, plus that's simply how McKinley worldbuilds so I can forgive it. Ended up enjoying it but thought the resolution was a little too convenient.

Red Dragon by Thomas Harris - reread, 5/5

One of my favorite books ever. Been meaning to reread this for a while and decided October was a good month for it. Still love it. Dolarhyde's a great monster, utterly contemptible while still being sympathetic (to an extent; Harris never lets you forget what Dolarhyde has done). Another legitimately scary book. If you like thrillers I recommend just reading it since neither adaptation does it justice (though imo Manhunter is worth a watch).

Deryni Rising by Katherine Kurtz - 3/5

If I was a kid I would have unironically loved this. As an adult I found it clumsy and amateurish but I had a good time reading it. The villains are silly but great. Entertaining in the same way a Terry Goodkind book is. Kind of reminded me of Redwall and Warrior Cats. I've seen reviews that take issue with the two (lmao) important female characters but I liked both of them a lot. Wouldn't necessarily recommend to anyone over the age of 20 tho unless it was strictly to see what all the fuss is about. Kurtz has written a billion Deryni books and iirc the most recent one was published ~2014. Not sure if I will give the series another try, this first book was okay but not good enough to get me interested in the rest. Oh well.

Spindle's End by Robin McKinley - 4/5

A retelling of Sleeping Beauty. The first half focuses on the protagonist's (Rosie's) foster mother, Katriona, and the second half on Rosie herself as a young woman; heavy emphasis on female friendships and female relationships in general (mother to daughter, aunt to niece, etc.). Very funny but ends on a bittersweet note. I liked Rosie's friendship with her BFFL Peony. There is a weird age gap romance that I wasn't a huge fan of, tho I liked Rosie's love interest. I just wish he wasn't like twenty or whatever years older than her lmao. Otherwise a good book, the ending made me cry.

Books I did not finish:

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo and The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch -

Lumping these together because I dropped both of them for the same reasons: I thought they were boring and I couldn't stand any of the characters. Neither author seemed to want to let their stories do the talking and the action kept getting broken up by paragraphs upon paragraphs of info-dumping and exposition, and none of it done in a very engaging manner, either. For being marketed as exciting thrillers I didn't find either one of them particularly exciting or thrilling. I could not take any of the 2cool4me characters seriously either, both books felt very juvenile in the pursuit of being edgy and """mature.""" Also did not like the way the female characters in either were written - I dropped Lies about seventy pages in, and in all that time there was precisely one female character with a speaking role, and she was introduced just to flirt with the protagonist and so that we the readers would know what his type is, pleugh. I understand liking these books if you're a teenager going through an edgy phase but as a 30 something I didn't find either very engaging, not even in a corny so-bad-it's-good way like Deryni Rising lmao

[sunnygrey99]

Honey, Smoke, Lemon, and Oak Pt 3

~Trigger Warning: Typical TLOU warnings. Self Harm, suicidal tendencies, severe mental illness, PTSD, gore, psychological torture, slight implications of previous abuse/SA (minors DNI) If any other Triggers apply please let me know.~

Story Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Violence, Murder, Death, Smut

A/N: This is a rough chapter. I'm trying to be as accurate to an unpredictable mental illness as I can be. As someone who suffers from severe mental illness I do not take it lightly. Please if you are suffering or need help Tumblr offers resources that can really help.

Wordcount: 2,546

Summary: Plus size!Reader is a Beekeeper and Medical Scientist living in Jackson. A simple meeting of a new friend slowly becomes so much more. Reader is immune. Reader is given a nickname. (This fic will have very dark tones though out. This deals with the unfortunate reality that men do disgusting things to women regardless of the world having ended. All chapters will include warnings and tag warnings. Please take care in reading.)

Its been a couple weeks since Ellie started school. You missed her during the mornings but she never failed to show up after school even just to do her homework next to you as you worked. Joel of course still working in the barn and every once in awhile coming back up to where ever you and Ellie were to take breaks and check up on you both. It was nice seeing them but after they leave each night you could feel the anxiety and hurt edging back into you.

You haven’t slept in the last three nights and its starting to show. Today as soon as you open the door and greet Joel he is looking at you with a deep set concern.

“You doin’ alright today Miss Bunny?” His hand stretches out just about to touch you in case you need support.

You pull back fast and stumble slightly into the door frame, “I’m just fine, thank you.” You pull your arms across your chest and seem to shrink in on yourself. “You can take the day off if you want. I was going to spend today in the barn.”

Joel seems to take the information in and mulls it over for a moment. His concern still intensely written across his features. “I don’t think thats a very good idea-”

You interrupt him quickly, “I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t do Mr.Miller. It is my job to make that medication. The town needs it.”

Joel’s features go from concern to confusion to anger in the blink of an eye. “I’m just tryin’ to look out for you. You look like you ain’t slept in a week and now you’re snappin’ at me.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me I said I’m fine. Leave.” With those words you slam the door and start pacing your home. You know its wrong the second the words leave your mouth. Its been months since you felt like this. The last time it happened it took weeks for you to come back from it. Maria found you and helped bring you back last time but at the cost of permanent damage to your friendship. You know she’ll never fully trust you again after that. You can’t let it happen to anyone else.

The next thirty minutes are spent by you locking and boarding up every window and door in the house. If no one can come in while you are like this then they wont get hurt.

~~~

Joel is dumbfounded and stands on your porch for five minutes trying to understand what just happened. He devolves into anger and annoyance and stalks off to find some other work to keep him busy for the day.

Another week passes and Joel finds himself at Maria and Tommy’s place helping them get ready for the new baby. Shes due in just a couple months and both Tommy and Maria are in a tizzy trying to make sure everything is ready for the new addition to the family.

“Ya know it doesn’t have to be perfect right Tommy?” Joel’s tone light and relaxed in the presence of family.

Tommy scuffs and rearranges the fabric diapers and towels again, “I know but I just want it to make sense. Its gonna be hard enough raising a kid in this world let alone having things disorganized once they get here.”

Joel chuckles at his brother, “It was a shitty world then and its a shitty world now, either way ain’t keepin that organized for more than a day when the kiddo gets here.”

Maria walks in then hand on her belly and the other carrying a small box of extra baby stuff. Tommy rushes over grabbing the box from her. “The Doc said not to lift anything and you should be in bed resting.”

“I can’t just lay in bed for the next few months and you know that. Besides the Doc said I can’t lift more than ten pounds. That’s less than eight.” Maria smiles at her husband and pats his cheek before giving him a small peck on the lips.

Joel watches the contentedness wash over their features. A sense of envy fills his own chest. He misses that feeling. Recognizing that he had something similar with Sarah’s mom before she left and he hadn’t felt that want since she did. He also feels a bit of jealousy at his brother having what he wishes he did when Sarah’s mom was pregnant. Joel hadn’t even known about Sarah until she was dropped off by a social worker when she was a week old. Most surprising of all is his sudden want for a chance at that again. He feels himself try to shake off the thoughts. Immediately replaced by the feelings of grief, sadness, and loss. Anger being the most present. The two others in the room oblivious to the change in Joel’s demeanor. Maria turns the Joel then, “So hows the barn coming along?”

Joel huffs and rolls his eyes at that, “Just fine till Bunny told me to fuck off.”

Maria looks over to Tommy with confusion and concern immediately written across her face. She looks back to Joel, “What do you mean she told you to fuck off?”

He simply shrugs. “Looked like she hadn’t slept in a few, asked her if she was alright…damn near chewed my head off for it. Told me to leave so I did.”

She takes a step closer the concern only worsening, “Joel this is very important. How long ago was this?”

He squints his eyes at her then his brother. He feels as if he is missing something important, like he doesn’t know something they do. His eyes shift back over to Maria, “A week ago.”

She curses under her breath before looking at Tommy. “You see her in the past week at all?” He simply shakes his head no. “Tommy we need to get the doc to her ASAP.” He nods and starts heading to the truck Maria right behind him.

Joel stands there confused for a moment lost in thought as to what might be the reason that the doc would be needed. He almost just brushes it off and lets them deal with it, but something in him is telling him to get a move on and help. Clearly something is wrong and Bunny needs help.

Its not even twenty minutes later they are all standing at the front door. Maria banging on the door with no answer. Joel peers into the window to see if there is any movement. “Looks like she’s got the windows and doors blocked from the inside. What the hell is goin’ on with her?”

Maria huffs as she paces the porch, “I should have known when she didn’t come over Tuesday. She never misses bringing me meds.”

“You didn’t tell me she didn’t drop those off.” Tommy voices from the bottom of the porch stairs.

“I still had meds I would have been fine. I thought she would just be by tomorrow when she drops off the rest to the clinic.” Maria walks back to the door again and calls your name. She tries again just a couple more times hoping your real name would coax you out sooner. They all hear a rustling around from inside the house and she calls for you again. “Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!”

Joel can see the tears prickling in Maria’s eyes. He hasn’t ever seen her this emotional and distressed even with the pregnancy hormones. He looks to Tommy and recognizes the same sad look in his eyes that he had when he himself had gone off the deep end. It suddenly struck him what was happening. That’s when they all hear the shattering of glass come from inside the house.

~~~

You’ve been pacing the bottom floor of the house for you don’t even know how long. Sleeping only in small increments when your body allows it. That voice creeping in slowly. His voice. Its been so long since you’d heard it but you remember the condescending tone anywhere. At first it sounded far away like he was yelling from the yard but then he was closer and closer. He always knows where you are in the house without actually being here. He sounds like hes in the walls now.

“Little girl, you can’t run away from me now…” His voice makes you tremble in fear. “I know where you are…I know your every thought.”

“no….no just….just leave me alone please. I’ve given you enough of me.” Your hands squeeze around the leather handle of your knife as you pace in the center of the living room.

“NO! I WANT IT ALL! YOU’RE MINE!” His voice echoes out. Its almost enough to cover the banging at your front door. That’s when you hear your name being called in a familiar, sweeter voice.

“Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!” The voice carried through the walls you had built up. You don’t remember this person, only a small spark of familiarity.

You walk to the front door hand out stretched yet hesitant to take down the furniture blocking the way. “Don’t you dare trust her. She just wants to steal you away from me. You don’t want that do you little girl? She’ll hurt you.” Your trembling hands pull back and reach to cover your ears, the blade from your knife brushing slightly against your cheek.

“She sounds nice, I think I know her.” Your voice just a hushed whisper.

“STUPID GIRL! You can’t trust anyone but me! I kept you safe all those years and THIS is how you repay me?” His voice booms as you stumble back some slicing open your cheek. “It looks like I need to teach you another lesson. A round of iron should teach you better.” Its then that you see him emerge from the wall. A fire poker in hand and red hot. You see his hands wring around the iron grip and a gleeful look in his otherwise dead eyes. The bullet hole in his forehead still oozing blood like the last time you saw him. And the same devious, wicked smile plastered on his face. As he inches forward you feel yourself pushed back into fight or flight mode. You reach to the nearest objects and start throwing them at him, hoping to deter him from coming any closer. Once hes only a few inches away you let out a blood curdling scream. Moments later furniture flies away from its barricade spot and the door breaks off its hinges.

A man you don’t recognize walks towards you in a hurry, light shining behind him as if he is some sort of angel. Unsure of what to make of the man you shuffle away. The man of your nightmares dissipated into thin air as the new man stops in his tracks. His movements much slower now as if trying to calm a scared and wild animal. You can see his lips move but you don’t hear any sound right away. The golden light behind him is almost blinding as it washes over the cold room. It warms your skin as you look down at yourself and see the light gracing your form. Looking back up at the man you smile. “Is it safe? Is he gone?”

The man kneels down in front of you and slowly nods. He reaches up and starts to take the knife from you. That’s when the light behind him starts to fade into an inky black. Panic quickly floods back into your system, and your grip hardens on the knife. “No! GET AWAY FROM ME!” You kick at him and scramble to move away. He lets go and steps back quickly.

“Bunny please, I promise I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He watches you intently and you in-turn watch him. The light and inky black fighting back and forth around the man. Swirling and mixing yet never quite touching. Your gaze still lays on his features with no trust. He waits on a few moments before speaking back up. “I’ll stay right here okay? I just need you to put the knife down.”

The panic quickly grows and your eyes flick from him to the knife and back to him. “I won’t let him or any other man get me again.” You quickly flip the knife back to yourself and plunge the knife deep into your abdomen.

As your body feels the sudden numbness pool in your abdomen reality crashes back in. Eyes locked with Joel’s as he stands there stunned. “Joel…I…” You look back down to your abdomen, “Oh god what…did I do?” Dropping to your knees, hands grabbing at the still plugged wound. Your hands smearing the dripping blood as you feel another pair of hands on you keeping you from fully falling to the ground.

You hear Joel’s voice calling out something. He sounds panicked but you can’t quite understand what he is saying. All the sound around you muffled as if you were stuck in a dream. The inky black that had been around Joel enveloping your own vision as you hear more voices get added to the muddled sound.

~~~

Joel yells out to the group on the porch, “Doc! We need the Doc in here!” He cradles your shoulders as he rocks you back and forth slowly. His other arm pulling your legs to get you laying more flat. The blood pouring out from your wound coats Joel’s clothes and hand. Your eyes only half open staring up at him, pupils blown wide. You try muttering something out and weakly raise your arm. He was quick to hold you and shush you. “It’s alright Miss Bunny, we are gonna fix this. Everything is going to be okay.”

Time seems to stand still for hours as he looked deep into your eyes. His own filling with tears he hadn’t realized he could have for anyone more than he already had. It was when your eyes rolled fully back and the doctor pulled you from his grip that he himself blacked out. The next thing Joel knew he was standing with Ellie next to your sleeping form in a hospital bed.

Ellie’s hand squeezing yours and silent tears rolling down her own face. Joel does the only thing he can think of to help. He pulls up two chairs and guides Ellie to sit still able to hold your hand. He barely catches the whisper that leaves her lips. “Please don’t abandon me too.” It instantly crushes Joel’s heart and all he can do is sit there with Ellie.

Part 4

If you would like to be tagged in my works please feel free to message me and let me know who/what fandoms you’d like to be tagged in. I plan to write for at least The Walking Dead, Shameless(US), Marvel(MCU and Comics), DC(All), Teen Wolf and The Last of Us

[agentnico]

Thelma (2024) review

It was either this or Despicable Me 4. And I ain’t giving another penny to those dastardly minions!

Plot: Thelma Post is a 93-year-old grandmother who loses $10,000 to a con artist on the phone. With help from a friend and his motorized scooter, she soon embarks on a treacherous journey across Los Angeles to reclaim what was taken from her.

I am actually shocked that this is June Squibb’s FIRST lead role. The lady is a damn Academy Award winner for Christ’s sake, and yet it took her to reach her nineties to get top billing? Adds another layer to the saying “better late than ever”. Then again, if you look at the current President of the United States then age doesn’t matter, no matter how many times you forget what you’re talking about or fall down the stairs of an Air Force One plane. So good on Squibb for getting the lead in this film, and not only that, but she’s now essentially an action star too. Kind of. The movie consistently references Tom Cruise’s insane stunts that he does by himself, and I believe Squibb did all her own stunts in Thelma too, which involved walking, typing on a computer keyboard, riding a mobility scooter, going up the stairs, stepping over a lamp and knitting. Honestly it’s impressive stuff I tell ya.

Essentially this is The Beekeeper: Elderly Edition. Remember the Jason Statham action flick earlier this year where he played a beekeeper that goes on a revenge spree following his sweet landlord/friend committing suicide after being scammed out of $2 million by a phishing company. Naturally Statham was on glorious ass-kicking form and there was some thrilling and entertaining action set pieces. With Thelma it’s essentially the same thing, only instead of Statham it’s Squibb, so the process is a tad more slow with a more chill vibe. Look, straight away I should say I’m not the target audience here. This is very much for the type of crowd that went to see those Best Exotic Marigold Hotel films. They’re very sweet in nature, but are extremely melancholic and have that overly comforting factor where you do just want to afterwards go see your grandparents and give them the biggest hug. It helps that June Squibb is adorable in this film, as she has that old-school warmth to her, but also when she starts trying to save the day, you can’t help but want to root for her. Also all the scenes in her house were simply lovely. Think it was the mixture of the light yellow/orange lighting to the typical overly comfortable furniture with flowery designs and essentially a place that’s stuck in time so to speak. Again there’s that warmth to it that was utterly delightful.

The story itself was alright. Like it’s nothing special and I’d say in the middle it does meander a bit too much where I did find myself getting distracted, but overall it’s a very low stakes movie shot in high style that works. I really dug June Squibb’s interactions with her grandson played by Fred Hechinger, and their bond is the true core of the movie. It was the attention to the little details, like when the grandson’s parents are giving him crap about drinking and oversleeping, but when the grandson looks up at June Squibb she simply looks back at him lovingly with zero judgement and even gives a cheeky wink of assurance which was so sweet. I’ve unfortunately never got the chance to meet either of my grandparents as they had passed before I was born, so even though I haven’t had personal experience of this I still very much connected with the grandmother/grandson dynamic.

Thelma is a fun, impressively naturalistic and overwhelmingly earnest look at the idea of growth, both old and young, and the importance of family, and though it’s not a movie that breaks any new ground or will have me want to go out of my way to go see it again, I very much appreciated it’s innocent cosy nature. It’s a movie about a cool grandma - take it as you will.

Overall score: 6/10

[augerer]

DEATH AS A FETISH: A fanmix for Her Most Serene Highness, Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia, heir to the First House, the Emperor’s only daughter.

Dead!, My Chemical Romance | Succexy, Metric | Propaganda, MUSE | Beekeeper, Keaton Henson | Death as a Fetish, STRFKR | Oxen Hope, Mirah | Take Me Back, KONGOS | England Made Me, Black Box Recorder | I Miss That Feeling, Tennis | I Want It All, Arctic Monkeys | Wrecking Force, Voxtrot

[Listen on Youtube]

Album art: [credit 1] [credit 2]

[separate fanmix for Harrow the Ninth] [separate fanmix for Gideon the Ninth]

Track notes under the cut.

1. Dead!, My Chemical Romance

And if your heart stops beating I'll be here wondering Did you get what you deserve? The ending of your life ... Have you heard the news that you're dead? No one ever had much nice to say, I Think they never liked you anyway

2. Succexy, Metric

Invasion’s so succexy Let’s drink to the military The glass is empty ... Passive attraction, programmed reaction Action distraction, more information Flesh saturation, lips on a napkin Ass ass ass

Note: she does show up for the first time in the book in military propaganda.

3. Propaganda, MUSE

Propaganda Propaganda Propaganda

You ate my soul just like a death eater I'm the ocean you're an oil slick now But I'm choking on your thought pollution

4. Beekeeper, Keaton Henson

Cause I'm just getting started, let me offend The devil's got nothing on me, my friend All I want is to be left alone Tact from me is like blood from a stone

5. Death as a Fetish, STRFKR

Ghost dad, keeping the secrets And float the dead ones home ... You’re born (death as a fetish) Your sins (death as a fetish)

6. Oxen Hope, Mirah

You sent me off without a warning Wasn't just a threat and man, that was no joke Did you know you'd struck the final blow To my faithful oxen hope?

We thought we knew we wanted what we had But you busted your side of the yoke So I left with almost nothing but a gaping hole Yes, I did really went for broke ... And I don't question, no, I don't doubt Now that I've tried living with and without That was a hard, hard muscle to grow And harder still to let go ...

And the ride we rode had danger in it We thought we could last yeah we were real strong swimmers But we got flooded, yes, we got rolled And we both went down soon as you cut the rope

7. Take Me Back, KONGOS

And once again the question's asked I answer yes! but the moment's passed I'm guess I'm always tomorrow-bound How many more till I'm underground?

“Kill me,” said Kiriona./“No. You’re dead,” said Paul.

8. England Made Me, Black Box Recorder

I need my privacy, I lead a secret life, Sleep with the enemy then betray both sides, I traveled all my life, But never got away from the killing job, And the garden shed,

“Then do it, coward,” Crux said. “Do it--the knife is before you; the work has been done.”

“Did you know I’m God’s child?” Kiriona demanded. “Did you know all the things you did--all the shit you pulled--every single thing you did, every lock you snapped on me, every cuff you put on me, every--every crappy plate of food you put in front of me, every word--every look--did you know I was the real, true-blue daughter of the Emperor? I want you to know that--I want you to know what I am!”

“You remain--what you are,” said Crux.

Note: Also see Ianthe accusing her of being a “little three way double crosser”. “England” here representing an unpleasant place in the imperial core to grow up.

9. I Miss That Feeling, Tennis

I can be true to you, even when losing Every little thing I've ever known And all of the love I've ever shown Something like pleasure, you'd never believe it Every little need dismantling Recorded by the needle of an EKG I miss that feeling Flicker hot and hovering Like my own discovering Eagerly, tenderly

And Kiriona kept saying--”It didn’t feel good. . . Fuck. . . It didn’t feel good. Why didn’t it feel good?”/A rising, hysterical note. “Why didn’t it feel good? You fucking old... You hideous, cruel... you bastard... Why didn’t... Why can’t I...”

10. I Want It All, Arctic Monkeys

Blind faith, heartache. mind games, mistakes My sweet fireball, my sweet rigmarole I want it all, I want it all

Old dogs, new tricks, can you feel it? Space age country girl, stone cold miracle I want it all, I want it all And then suddenly it hit me, it's a year ago Since I drank miniature whiskey and we shared your Coke Say, ain't it just like you to kiss me and then hit the road? Leave me listening to the Stones' "2000 Light Years from Home"

11. Wrecking Force, Voxtrot

'Cause somebody once said when I was young That playing dead is just no fun But these days I am a man, I'm not a boy

And you can be anyone Or just some mother's wasted son Oh you can be your own god if you want to

Come on to my side you will define me with a knife Spare me all the miseries that tear apart your life Oh you can lose yourself in art Or you can break somebody's heart in two Jump on in, the water's fine for swimming

Go on split the scene and let the dirty half come clean You are the wrecking force, you are the wrecking force In me, in me 'Cause I'm a soft machine, I was hard when I was sixteen You are the wrecking force, you are the wrecking force In me, in me

Note: More of a general theme for the series than for Kiriona specifically.

[bobbieisthebest]

Juniper (MC): What did you two do?

Jake:

Mort:

Richard: You guys aren’t in trouble, we just need to know if we have to lie to the police again or not.

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Alicia: Something’s off.

Bobbie, sarcastically: Maybe you’ve finally developed emotions and feel bad for hurting people! Maybe THIS is your redemption arc!

Alicia: No, but that’s funny.

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Mom: Did you wash the dishes?

Dad: I thought you wanted to do that...

Mom: *chuckles* You were WRONG.

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Teacher: Sit up straight.

Charles: No, I'll sit as gay as I want.

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Flick: Sometimes I worry about Juniper.

Flick: I mean, how damaged does the girl have to be, to be into someone as annoying as Jake?

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Nathan: If I came home with four ducks would you be mad?

Charles: What's in your bag?

Nathan: I think you know what's in my bag.

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*After the incident with the football*

Charles: You want to kill Sam? 

Jake hugging Juniper: Just briefly.

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Alicia: Can you please be serious for five minutes?

Bobbie: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

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Juniper: I'm always thinking about that one time I was on register for like four hours straight and I said over mic, "Someone please take over register I am about to become the Joker" and they came to relieve me faster than I've ever seen anyone relieve me before.

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Buddy: I really like these cool lights you installed.

Juniper: Actually those are police lights. Jake is getting pulled over again.

Jake: Don’t the police have anything better to do? Three people are getting mugged right over there!

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Kato: Just try

Wendy: I'll try, but I'm telling you I'll purposefully fail

Kato: How is that trying!?!

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Wendy: Without ugliness, there would be no beauty in this world. Thank you for your sacrifice, Sam.

Sam: Look here you tiny shit-

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Jake: Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?

Buddy: We could die?

Jake: Please, like that’s ever stopped us before.

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Bobbie: Not all of your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value.

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Bobbie: What disease do beekeepers get? Hives.

Kato: Hives is a skin reaction due to excess antihistamines. Not a disease.

Bobbie:

Bobbie: Hives.

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Nathan, hungover: please tell me I imagined claiming I was the king of all ducks.

Richard: Well I would, but then I would be lying to the King of all Ducks.

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Juniper: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Flick: 'Prettiest Smile'

Richard, beaming: 'Nicest Personality'

Jake: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

Kato: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'. Damn straight.

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Charles: I mean, yeah, I get along with my father great! Last conversation we had didn't go so well, but that was years ago.

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Jake: When we were little kids, Richard got bit by a house spider and he was crying so I went to get some stuff from Juniper’s mom to soothe and numb it, but before I could even walk out the door, I heard him quietly whisper, "I can’t handle the responsibility of being Spiderman."

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Sam: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think.

Kato: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.

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Flick: Why are you apologising for liking me back?

Kato: Because I don’t want to ruin— wait a second. Pause and rewind, what did you just say?

[towritecomicsonherarms]

Part 16

(Barry flies out and he discovers that there are hundreds of these structures, each housing thousands of Bees)

Barry: Oh, no! There's hundreds of them!

(Barry takes out his camera and takes pictures of these Bee work camps. The beekeepers look very evil in these depictions)

Barry: Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something.

(Flash forward in time and Barry is showing these pictures to his parents)

Janet: Oh, Barry, stop.

Martin: Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor.

Barry: Do these look like rumors?

(Holds up the pictures)

Uncle Carl: That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos.

Janet: How did you get mixed up in this?

Adam: He's been talking to humans.

Janet: What?

Martin: Talking to humans?!

Adam: He has a human girlfriend. And they make out!

Janet: Make out? Barry!

Barry: We do not.

Adam: You wish you could.

Martin: Whose side are you on?

Barry: The bees!

Uncle Carl: (He has been sitting in the back of the room this entire time) I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night.

Janet: Barry, this is what you want to do with your life?

Barry: I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop.

Janet: I remember that.

Barry: What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!

Adam: Even if it's true, what can one bee do?

Barry: Sting them where it really hurts.

Martin: In the face! The eye! That would hurt.

Barry: No.

Martin: Up the nose? That's a killer.

Barry: There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters.

(Flash forward a bit in time and we are watching the Bee News)

Bee News Narrator: Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source.

Bee Protestor: No more bee beards!

Bee News Narrator: 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: A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally!

Jeanette: Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Classy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon.

(The scene changes to an interview on the news with Bee version of Larry King and Barry)

Bee Larry King: Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"?

Barry: Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Columbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?

Bee Larry King: Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores.

Barry: How old are you?

Bee Larry King: The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century.

Barry: You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too.

Bee Larry King: It's a common name. Next week...

Barry: He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots...

Bee Larry King: Next week...

Barry: Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em.

Bee Larry King: Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here, live.

(Bee Larry King gets annoyed and flies away offscreen)

Barry: Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish.

(Flash forward in time. We see Vanessa enter and Ken enters behind her. They are arguing)

[zootplayz]

Bobs Legacy

You ever wondered what happens to all those Disney challenge spares? Well, wonder no more! I actually only have two left of the six spares who haven't married off into my other legacies.

Theresa, the eldest.

A mean, unflirty, loner that I've never had any real plans for. And quite frankly I still don't. Her personality doesn't exactly scream life of the party. However, it did say to me ballsy beekeeper!

As you can see she's wearing a business suit here and I decided to scrap that. None of these jobs really fit her. She's definitely an unpleasant sim but she does love her family so she's now taking care of them. Except when she tries to cast some voodoo on her sister Bridget.

Something she is just really really bad at. You know how generation orange in Not So Berry is supposed to be really bad at being evil? I think that totally applies to Theresa here. Because she failed at this thing every single time!

Quite frankly their pet hedgehog Stitch is better at it than she is.

Is that an atomic explosion or a really powerful fart? Perhaps both? The other spare still left in the house is Bridget.

Bridget has always been my favorite of the Pancake kids. A lazy, clumsy goofball she's always been a joy to play.

If you read my Disney challenge you know that she does have a special someone in her life but it just doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

Bridget I think is only physically invested in this relationship. Whereas Andrea wants more than she is prepared to give. As a result, I let Bridge get on the hookup list of the SimDa dating app. One of her "dates" caught my eye and I decided to have her invite the sim over.

That, in case you couldn't tell is Darling Walsh from the karaoke legends house. Why, in the name of all that is holy I gave Darling long hair when I was making townies over is beyond me. Because it just doesn't work. Despite my reservations at Darling's look, Bridget had none.

Of course, soon things went even further.

Because of a random hook-up call I now actually have a plan for Bridget. Besides just holding down the fort until a Disney Princess returns. But before all that can happen, Bob, the sim who will inspire it all is of course causing havoc with Theresa's bees.

He's not the only one though, his lost love loves to terrorize them as well.

But the bees take no nonsense from anyone be they physical beings or not. Bob is enjoying his retirement and now that we have seasons in the Sims his hobbying is no longer limited to swimming.

Playing in the leaves is just as fun. He has not forgotten his responsibility to the family though and made sure to check in that his girls will be alright when he's gone.

It seems Theresa's cooking has finally passed his judgment. With that knowledge, he knows he can finally let go.

And return to his beloved in the hereafter.

Of course, the girls were not happy about this and as such made their first holiday that much harder. The gnomes arrived.

Expecting to be catered to and celebrated. Theresa had no such intentions in her heart.

Excitement at the thrill of the kill!

Despite the arrival of the Grim gnome at this great injustice. That didn't stop the mean Theresa she just went about her killing spree.

Her impressionable sister Bridget soon couldn't help but get caught up in her sisters' glee and was soon dancing in the gnome carcasses.

The carnage! Because nothing screams thankful like a good old-fashioned gnome purge! Part 02 Read the full article

[back-and-totheleft]

The Camera is the Rifle

OS: I read your bio this morning. I see we did parallel each other to some degree. What year were you born?

DB: I was born in ’49. You’re a couple of years older than me. I dodged the draft. You enlisted, right? I remember sitting for the draft lottery, wondering if I would have to go to Canada or Nam?

OS: I don’t know. You’re one of those wimp-assed, fucking east coast people that didn’t want to go in the Army. I can’t understand you guys. I mean you saw the Vietnam War as a disaster. I didn’t at that time.

DB: Yes, Welcome, Oliver Stone, to Flashpoints. It’s good to have you with us.

OS: Nice to be back. I was on a couple of years ago.

DB: Yes, A couple of years after we’ve spoken, I believe we met at the late Robert Parry’s house, where you were given the Gary Webb Award. And we also were traveling the same ground there as well. It is good to have you back with us Oliver.

I found your autobiography both moving and compelling. So much about war and the aftermath. I remember one time when I got stung by a bee, I was about 11, and my father caught me going out the door with a can of Raid. And he says, “where you going?” And I said I got stung by a bee and I’m going to go kill a whole bunch of bees. And he said did I ever tell you the story about how a bee saved my life? And I said no. He says yeah. Well I was in the ditches and we were taking a break and this bee started dive-bombing my dad. I think it was Sicily, the Battle of Bloody Ridge. And he said “So I got out of the trench and I went behind a tree to grab a smoke, and as soon as I got out of my hole there, a mortar hit and killed 9 of my best friends.” Then my dad made us some tea and sweetened it with a nice dollop of fresh honey from a beekeeper who was a regular in my dad’s cab.

OS: That sounds horrible.

DB: Soldier Dad said to me, “if I ever run into General Patton in a drug store or the candy store, I will punch his ass out.”

I really want to start with what Martin Scorsese said to you in Films chool, that I think you found very moving and a life changer. And Scorsese said it in response to your first black and white, 16mm film. He said to you in response to your film, “The person who is making it is living it.” That was sort of your degree, wasn’t it? That was the real degree you got from college and your mantra all the way through.

OS: I’d say that was the highlight of my 2½ years at NYU. Martin – or Marty as we knew him then – was a very down-to-earth, but very smart and was very entertaining as a teacher. We were making films, very cheap films – black and white, 16mm, and editing them, writing them, starring in them, shooting them ourselves; it was mostly pretty amateur work. But this stood out to him, and usually we were into auto-critiquing like the Chinese cultural revolution. So usually you get a lot of criticism after you showed a film in class. It was a hard go-around. And he just shut it up right away. He said this is a film-maker, which I know was my diploma.

DB: Yes, really. And it was a film about war.

OS: It was about my returning to New York, yes.

DB: From the war.

OS: And my casting aside the medals, that’s right. It was about all the junk you wanted – the veteran has to lose the memories that he was carrying in order to move on with life.

DB: Now you made these three amazing films, of course Platoon was the first in a trilogy, and that was all about your experiences in Vietnam. And I found it very moving. Could you talk a little bit about – you talk about terminology like friendly fire. There are these terms that you learn in war. Talk a little bit about the language of war in the context of that Vietnam War.

OS: Well, I went in and I was a volunteer, and I was sent over as a replacement troop into a unit at the 25th Infantry, which had lost some men, and we were all replacements. And it was very factory-like in the sense that people didn’t want to get to know you too much, because we didn’t really – there was none of that wartime this-is-your-buddy stuff. We all were trying to stay alive, and everyone was counting off the days until they had left. It was like working for a taxicab company, which I had done also. So it was a routine, and it was a tough routine. And sometimes it would work out that you would bond with somebody, but not necessarily.

I was talking about the three lies, the three biggest lies I witnessed in Vietnam, and I gradually learned them over the time I was there. Because a lot of guys were getting hurt by friendly fire, which is our own artillery, our own planes and our own fire – rifle fire, ground fire. There was a lot more of that than people thought there was, because were in the jungle in asymmetrical warfare, and sometimes people – stupid people – would shoot without knowing where they were shooting because they were thinking. The problem with a lot of that war was that US troops when they get under fire, whether it’s in Afghanistan or Vietnam, they just open fire. They just fucking go crazy. It becomes like a mad minute, and that doesn’t work. You put out a lot of fire, and of course the idea is that you scare off or you stop the enemy from advancing. It’s ridiculous, and frankly kills a lot of people, as well as civilians; a lot of them were killed.

And that was the second thing I saw: a lot of civilian deaths. And when we say – we just don’t admit it. Because if you look at the casualty figures in Afghanistan, I’m sure you’re going to find a lot more than you know about US bombs killing Afghans. And I think that is one of the hidden facts of all wars; civilian deaths.

And the third I said about it was that the biggest lie of all was that we’re winning this war, which is what they told us all the time. It was we’re not losing; we’re winning; we’re kicking ass; look at the body counts. But then on the other hand, the more of them you killed – and of course they were inflated body counts because they included civilians – the more of them you killed, they always seemed to be replaced.

So who knows? It was Alice in Wonderland; the American strategy was nuts. Cleaning out villages and making them move to other villages that were supervised by corrupt, government troops; it was not a solution. And the people were caught between two different forces. Naturally a lot of us started to resent them because we thought they were helping the enemy. So this led to all kinds of problems. But the biggest problem of all was from the top down, the leadership; and it was military. It wasn’t political. The military people that are hardcore will always tell you it’s politics and ended the war. And they’ll say the same thing about Afghanistan. But it’s not; it was just a shit situation in terms of military situation. And if you don’t want me to say shit, I can say it was just a hopeless situation in terms of the military.

DB: Thank you. You remember Pacifica and the seven dirty words, so we’ve got to be careful about that. So I’m thinking, when I – and I really enjoyed your reading of the book – I’m thinking that war really ends up being at the core of everything you do; even outside this trilogy that it has that deep impact. And one has to realize that so many young men come back wounded and never recover, and this becomes sort of the core experience. We used to make fun – my brother and I used to make fun of my father when he would keep retelling us the same war stories. You know, we sort of had them numbered and labeled. And we’d go ha-ha, and laugh behind his back. But this is at the core.

OS: A lot of veterans don’t talk about it, and they carry it inside. And I’m not so sure that’s very healthy either. I think by making those three films I was able to exorcise quite a bit of things that were inside me. As you know, I jumped around on all three subjects. The second one was about another young man who came from a small town, not like me, and who came back to a small town paralyzed. Ron Kovic’s Born on the Fourth of July. So that’s a powerful story, I think, of pre-war/post-war, as well as war; there was quite a bit of action in that movie.

The third story was the Vietnamese peasant wives and their point of view. A woman who grew up in a village, and that’s a true story. She wrote a book, I optioned the book, Le Ly Hayslip. We called the film Heaven and Earth. And it’s, I feel, one of my best movies; but it’s kind of –

DB: Very powerful film.

OS: It came too early and it was about Asians. So I figured the American people were not interested in that side of the story.

DB: Well I live with one, and I get that perspective. Back to Ron Kovic; another place where our lives overlap. My mom – we grew up on the Lower East Side, but my mom took us out to a place called Massapequa. Have you heard of that town?

OS: Sure. Massapequa is where Ron was from. I was there.

DB: And when – I mean this was a big thing. My parents used to shop in the Bohack; I think that’s what the store was called.

OS: Oh yeah, Bohack. I remember Bohack.

DB: Where Ron Kovic grew up. And then I remember hearing Tom Paxton for the first time singing this song; I don’t know if you’ve ever heard it. Born on the Fourth of July. And it’s got – the refrain is “I was born on the fourth of July, no one more loyal than I. When my country said so, I was ready to go, I wish I had been left there to die.”

OS: Never heard it. I’ve never heard it.

DB: It’s powerful – you know, I was thinking when I was going to see the movie, your movie, I was thinking oh, that’s going to be the theme song. But then I thought to myself, no. Because he tells the whole story, the whole story is in the song; why do the movie? But the movie was a life-changer for me as well, and I’m sure for many young men who had survived that draft and that war.

OS: Yeah, although it’s not referred to, interestingly enough, as a war film, and it’s left off those lists; but I consider it a war film, very much so. Because it’s about what the boy was like before and what he was like after. And what the family situation is at home as well as abroad. So you know, I don’t know. Things get lost. I love Born on the Fourth of July; I think it’s one of my best films.

DB: I agree. And it’s sort of how the whole – one person in the family goes to war and the whole family goes to war. I’m remembering a film that came out of World War II; I think it was called The Best of Our Lives. Do you know that film? Was it The Best of Our Lives? Where he comes home and he –

OS: Oh, The Best Years of Our Lives, yes. That’s a classic from William Wyler, 1946. Frederick March. Three men came back from the war and each one had a different fate in his hometown.

DB: Yes, and I remember as a kid watching it.

OS: And it certainly was an inspiration for Born on the Fourth of July, certainly. I saw that film more than once. It’s a great film.

DB: And it really does show how you’re sending a whole family to war.

OS: It’s one of the most honest films I think Hollywood ever made. Because in that period, the American viewer was going very back towards the right wing, back towards the Republican era, and those films were no longer made after that. That film in fact almost got Wyler into the black lists; it came close. It’s an interesting story.

DB: Really. That is something. And again, it was powerful. I think in part it was in black and white, I believe.

OS: Yes.

DB: I guess that’s what they were using at that point. Or maybe somebody just chose to do it in black and white. But that also made it a very powerful film.

OS: Yeah.

DB: Could you talk a little bit about – I want to sort of backtrack a little bit and I want to talk a little bit about your family, your dad, your mom. Your dad was a Jewish businessman who worked on Wall Street – hence the film Wall Street – back to the person who is making it is living it. And your mom was sort of a – I don’t know. These days we’d say a party girl. But she was the entertainer. She was having parties; she was out there. Could you talk about you parents and how they influenced you?

OS: You called it an autobiography, but I’d call it more of a memoir; because it becomes subjective, highly subjective. And it’s about my relationship with the two parents. And because I was the only child, it was seen like a perfect family to me; a triangle that was working. And when it fell apart suddenly – and that was in 1962 when I was 15, 16, and I was at boarding school – and I was shocked to be told on the phone so coldly that the divorce – the marriage was over. I mean it was like a 180° turn. And I was not consulted or anything, because it was going on and there was a lot of tension between the two that I knew nothing about. Which was kind of a shock to me, and a coming-of-age kind of thing where you’re 15 and you say well, it’s a whole other world that I’m in now. The parents separate and it’s no longer “a family”; there is no family anymore. And especially if you’re an only child it’s just – you’re all on your own now, basically. And that’s what happened to me. I ended up in those years kind of being very disturbed, and eventually going – I went to Vietnam twice.

But my mom was, what did you say, a party girl? Yes. But in those days that was not wrong. It was a woman of a certain means – if she had means – would not work. It was acceptable. No longer, but my mother of course was very supportive of the family, and of my father. And she thought she was contributing with her grace and her charm and her party-giving to his career as a broker. And she did. So there is an alliance, a partnership between the parents.

My father was, as depicted in the book, also a very strong man, like my mother; both very strong people. And I wrestled with my father when I came back from Vietnam because he was supporting the war. And he was an Eisenhower Republican, and a smart one; not stupid at all. He wrote about it for a while, and he wrote a monthly letter. But he had a view of the world that was very Republican. It certainly influenced me and I was conservative. But it took me years to undo that; years to kind of see the real world the way it was devolving for me, not for him. He came out of The Depression; I can understand his feelings. And he was always very strongly anti-Roosevelt. So I had to learn my own – I had to figure it all out gradually as I was going along.

And so let’s say by my 30s – the book centers on the first 40 years. And when I was 30, I was very depressed. Nothing was working; my life was not working. And I wrote the book on the idea that I wanted to show younger people what it’s like growing up in that time period, and how because I had a dream about being a filmmaker, I achieved it finally. I achieved it against great odds; so many rejections of my material, including The Platoon. More than once it almost got made. But basically from my 1987, ’86, when I was 40 years old, I had broken through, and it was a tremendous overnight success. Platoon was amazing; it went around the world. Elizabeth Taylor was giving me an Academy Award; best picture, best director, it was a fairy tale. And you can’t end a book better than that. I mean you achieved the dream after so much rejection and pain that it means something so much more to you and it was very sweet.

So maybe the story should end there at the age of 40. But it doesn’t; there’s another story in this, it goes on. I have to write still; it’s another book I want to do.

DB: Another book. And what is it about film that you chose as your main medium for?

OS: Well because I had written a book before I left. I had written a novel when I was 19 years old, and it was very – partly out of that pain and that loneliness; the divorce and the isolation. The sense of separation from a family; a lot of pain. It came into this book, an autobiographical novel. Which was pretty amazing. It was published years later as A Child’s Night Dream in 1997 by St. Martin’s Press. Which was an interesting book; a lot of craziness in it. Written by a 19-year-old really; it’s a 19-year old’s book. And I look back on it fondly. But it shows me – in other words, I was a writer. But when I came back from the Vietnam War, I no longer was satisfied with being a novelist. What I had seen was so visceral over there, and so in-your-face; six inches in front of your face. Your eyes, what you see and hear and smell. You have to become a 360°, full-contact person. And that’s not really what a novelist does. A novelist is very much in his head. You cannot be in your head in the field. You have to be alert and you can’t be thinking these things. So you kind of achieve another kind of viscerality, which I can’t explain quite until you pick up a camera and you can relive it. The camera gives you that viscerality, that sense of being the rifle. The camera is the rifle; it shoots. And it shoots what you want it to shoot.

So I basically came back from the war as an infantry soldier, as a filmmaker; wanting to be a filmmaker, a wanna-be. And that’s where I learned how to make them at NYU gradually. It took me a few years to get to the place where I could have some success. My first success was at 30 with The Midnight Express. No, I’m sorry – yes. No, it was at 32 with Midnight Express, 33; after that 30. At 30 years old it looked –

DB: Yeah, that was in – you made that – and that actually won an Academy Award for best adapted screenplay.

OS: Yes, it did. After that I was in the business; I was accepted in the business, and it was up and down. The business has a thousand pitfalls, and I certainly go into some of them. And I think it’s very illuminating for younger people who want to pursue the arts to see this story and feel it.

DB: And pursue you did, courageously. You know the book; we’re talking about Chasing the Light; Writing, Directing and Surviving Platoon, Midnight Express. Scarface Salvador and the Movie Game. And it opens up with you completing your first film, which is Salvador. You’re making it in Mexico. And I really want to ask you how you had the courage; how you could go forward in the face of having to deal with and juggle. Not only are you worrying about doing the film, but you’re worrying about having the whole thing pulled out from under you if you go over budget.

OS: Listen, Salvador was –

DB: How do you do that?

OS: How do you do it? You do it by learning. And learning – in Vietnam there was an expression: on the job, or learning on the job training; on the job training. You just do it. And that’s what happened. It was one of the worst nightmares you could ever have as a filmmaker. I could never survive it now. I was – I didn’t know better. But there was just no money; it was a dream from the beginning. I pushed that dream. I wanted to make the film. It was about war in Central America. And I went down there with a crazy journalist who was a friend of mine who lived through some of these experiences, and I based the film on his story. But we were so – between our desire and our execution there was quite a bit of a problem, so it took – it was an insane story. You have to read it to understand it. And an English company bailed us out. It was an English producer named John Daley who was taking chances in the 1980s, ’85, and he made both films. He made Platoon and Salvador. So without him it would not have made it. No American company would touch Salvador or Platoon. No American company would finance it, do you understand? That’s what’s really depressing. And it’s still going on.

DB: Why do you think that is?

OS: Well because they want to make money, and they thought that Stallone was the answer with his bullshit Rambo films. And Chuck Norris, the other guy who’s another right-winger, was perfect for the American people. It was what they wanted to hear, but it was not true. It was called Missing in Action and Chuck Norris made about three or four films about it, which was – that was the vogue. That was the vogue. And by the time I came along I thought it was over. I put Platoon in the closet and I said forget it; they’ll never make it. It was almost made, but it never got made. And then I gave up, and out of the blue three or four years later John Daley committed to it and he came through. He came through on both films, and both films became hit successes for me. Huge hits; I mean certainly Platoon.

DB: Wow. And why did you make that film? Why El Salvador?

OS: Well because it was a great story. It was a great story about war. Central American war is a dirty, dirty, dirty story about America. The same kind of mindset that created Vietnam was involved in 1980. Salvador, in Honduras, in Guatemala and in Nicaragua. Remember the Nicaraguans were having a revolution, the Sandinista Revolution. And the American government took a strong stance against it because they thought it was Communistic. Actually it was about land reform and making the lot of the poor in that country, or the people, most of the people, making it a better situation for them. But that’s not the way the American people saw it. So we supported dictators in those regions ever since; we always have. We want stability over any kind of uncertainty.

DB: You know the thing is it’s impossible to get that information out, in terms of the relationship that the US government has with for instance the death squads in El Salvador.

OS: It’s come out, but no one wants to listen. Yeah, we always support the death squads. And in Vietnam certainly there were death squads. Americans fought another war; it was a covert and a dirty war where we killed people. Peasants that were seen as progressive. And the same thing went on in Afghanistan. I mean you have no idea. There’s this other – one sector is the military and then the other sector is what now becomes the contractor at war. Which is to say you have a contract and you go out and you do your dirty work for the government; and you kill a lot of people who are seen as oppositional.

I was joking with somebody the other day. I said yeah; the Americans should let all the Afghanis in who worked with them. That means all the bad guys too. The Americans have this picture of the people who worked with them as all these good guys. Some of them were. But a lot of them were bad-ass people who were getting – who were doing a lot of killing and a lot of spying, killing. In other words, war is ugly. And we used everything we could to win that war. We used torture; we used all these sci-op techniques. It was very important for us to win the hearts and minds of the peasantry, which we never did; either in Vietnam or in Afghanistan.

DB: You say that it’s reported in the US, but not really. I don’t think in the United States your everyday, average citizen knew, for instance in El Salvador, that there was a guy named Roberto D’Aubuisson who once turned – told a German photographer that you Germans did the right thing; you killed all the Jews. Or drawing straws to shoot the archbishop through the voice during the eucharist. I don’t think –

OS: Plus there’s a whole dark side of the American story. I mean it’s true in every country in South America since we’ve had dictators everywhere. And wars; Argentina there were death squads all over the place, and in Brazil earlier than that in the ‘60s, and in of course Chile in ’71, or ’73 rather.

DB: ’73, right. September 11th; 9/11. When I saw the twin towers going down, I thought the Chileans are taking revenge. It’s September 11th, and the United States with the CIA overthrew the duly elected government of Allende.

OS: And not only that, we cooperated with the new government in picking out – I mean lists of people to be examined an often thrown out of helicopters or tortured. In other words as we did in Indonesia. Everywhere we go, we do this. There’s no fun to have in this story at all.

DB: Right. And I think that’s part of the gift of your work, Oliver Stone, that you put in film what we can’t, what we journalists can’t seem to get people to understand in terms of where your tax dollars are going. I’m just reading that I think they’re upping the defense budget big time. Meanwhile they’re hassling over whether they want to have a budget that’s going to support human life and people having a place to live and hospitals.

OS: Yeah, I know. And we have to bring all the people that we owe; our collaborators in those countries. They’ve been kicked out; they can’t work there; they’ll be killed. So they come and move to the United States. I suggest that they move to Miami and join the other; all the people that work with the Cuban exiles. Some of them are murderers and torturers, and they blow up anything. They’ve done it so many times. They go back into South America and they help the Chileans and they help the Argentinians with their dirty wars. In other words, we have a whole mini population of murderers and torturers in our country who were given sanctuary here.

Oh by the way, you have to include the South Vietnamese who did it over there, and they are moved into Orange County and here in Los Angeles. So we have communities of that.

DB: And then the history is rewritten. I mean we love the fact that –

OS: They become the victims. They become the people who got screwed, so to speak.

DB: There was a Vietnamese writer from South Vietnam, who wrote this – sort or rewrote history. It was about worshiping the ladder that was allowing the last Vietnamese to escape the Communists in the last helicopter.

OS: Propaganda.

DB: Propaganda; a lot of propaganda. You do say in this memoir that it’s really about – where is it that I wanted to quote? It’s about sort of living for the dream. You say this is a story about making a dream at all costs. How do you – what is it that allows you to sustain that dream? So many people give up pretty early in the game. What really matters?

OS: You know, I think tenacity is as much a part of success as anything. Anger certainly was there; it’s been steady. Anger at what we do in these situations and how we lie about it. It remains. It’s not the only focus of my life, of course. I have managed to balance my life out with happiness too. But certainly there’s a lot of residual anger there about what we’ve done and are still doing. What the hell are we doing with this budget, with our budget? I mean our support of this military empire that we’ve created is beyond belief; beyond belief. After all the screwups we’ve seen, and we’ve seen it time and again from Vietnam to Iraq, one and two basically. And then of course Afghanistan and Syria; we had no business doing what we did. So it’s just a whole ideological warfare that we do, but there’s no point to it. It doesn’t do the world any good. It just creates bodies and destruction. We bring destruction and we call it peace.

DB: You have had some pretty strong critiques of your work. You’ve been successful, but a lot of people get very angry; for instance around JFK. Is it because the truth hurts?

OS: Oh, I guess it does. They don’t want to admit it. You’re asking me an obvious question. Why would they get angry? There’s a long list of people who’d like to see me, among others, see me dead.

DB: Right. And when you raised the issue about JFK; I mean you did the film, and I understand you’re still working on the story of JFK.

OS: The story never went away, because it was never solved. We just made – I made a documentary called JFK Revisited. It’s going to be released in November of this year in the United States. We showed it at Cannes very successfully; we sold 10-12 countries and it’s coming out here in November. So the case has never ended; they never solved it. The investigations kept coming. Our film created a third investigation called The Assassination Records Review Board, and they interviewed a lot of people who were still alive back in ’94 and ’98. And they wrote up these things that were said and done, and a lot of people had provisionist stories to tell. And of course it was ignored for the most part. It was really ignored by the media. Americans love to say well, we’re going to make an investigation, another investigation. But then they never follow up because it’s tedious over four years to follow all the little details. Well we did. The people in this JFK research community did follow it, and there’s a lot there. There were – 60,000 documents were declassified, and almost two million pages.

On the other hand, Trump backed down at the last second and he was swamped with CIA objections; and he put a lid on it and he changed the law. He basically did it illegally; not with the authorization of Congress. And now the law is – they’re not respecting the law. We still have these 20,000 documents that are still classified. And there’s a lot there. There may not be, but you have to get into the CIA people. The CIA has been most obstructive to the investigation. They don’t release the files on some of these key agents that appear around the edges of the story, like David Atlee Phillips, George Joannides in Miami, or William Harvey who was around the Cuba operation. There’s a lot there, but who knows what’s in there?

But the point is we accepted the Warren Commission, which was a joke. We go back in the film and show the basic evidence: the bullet, the rifle, the fingerprints, everything that matters in a murder trial. And we show it to be completely phony. There’s not one piece of evidence that really holds up against the so-called Oswald killer routine. It’s disgusting.

DB: What do you think? You’ve spent so much time; what are some of the basics that people should know, that should be taught in the history books; in the alternative history books?

OS: I’ve written about it, and the documentary is made. I don’t think in the time we have, Dennis – I’ve been on almost an hour and I do have other things I have to do today. I don’t think there’s time to go into it all. It’s about Oswald, it’s about the evidence, it’s about the Warrant Commission itself and how crooked it was. All this has come out in declassifications. We have to cover a lot of bases, and there’s no one headline.

Also, the big question is why, why, why was Kennedy killed? I keep re-emphasizing that. And I can tell you that our history books are still screwed up. I mean if you were to believe them, Mr. Johnson, Lyndon Johnson, succeeded Kennedy smoothly and continued his policies in Vietnam. This is rubbish; complete rubbish. We have proof now through declassification that Kennedy was absolutely withdrawing from Vietnam, win or lose. And they said that’s what he told McNamara; McNamara said it in his book. He was Secretary of Defense. William – McGeorge Bundy, who was pro-Vietnam war, also says it very clearly in his book. These things are written years after. People don’t pay attention. The historians still go on with that nonsense about Lyndon Johnson was a successor. But he changed everything in the foreign policy of Kennedy. Everything from Vietnam to Cuba to – Kennedy was working on another détente with the Soviet Union and Johnson never did anything towards détente. He moved the other direction, encouraged dictatorships and overthrew a government in Brazil, and all over the world, in Greece in 1967. You see a complete repudiation of the Kennedy doctrine. Kennedy had the Alliance for Progress in South America; out the window with Johnson. In Africa, Kennedy was making huge strides to make allies with a whole new generation of Africans; all out the window. In Asia of course, Kennedy was working with Indonesia; he liked Sukarno. With Johnson they get rid of Sukarno and there’s the bloodiest coup d’états of all time; a million people are killed because they were so-called Communists. But those are lists of course put together by the American CIA, and it’s just murder. That’s what it was, just outright murder. Anything the – stuff the Nazis did; just killing people and getting away with it. The world has gotten very violent and ugly, and we’ve played a huge role in bringing that about.

And of course, Dennis, you’re an hour in now. I do have to get out of here.

DB: All right, sure. All right. Well, I want to thank you for joining us. Can I just ask you, are there any more feature films coming up? Is there – are you in a different place now?

OS: Yeah, I’m in a different place. I’ve made a nuclear energy documentary, which is very, very fact-based and I think will be very interesting and possibly move some marbles around here. Because we need to get going and get clean energy. We’ve got to get the CO2 out of the fucking system; out of the system. And it’s going to take a lot of work. People are dreaming when they think about if windmills and sun are going to do the whole job, they’re not. Certainly they’re good, but they need a lot of help. And we’re not going to make it unless we use nuclear energy, and a lot of it. A lot of it. So there has to be a change in thinking.

But it’s not just us; it’s the whole world that we have to change. The whole world.

-Dennis Bernstein, "The Camera is the Rifle: an Interview With Oliver Stone," Flashpoints, CounterPunch, Sept 24 2021 [x]

[ailelie]

Okay. So.

The beekeeper has the vague sort of ties to nobility that it takes a genealogist to parse out. He knows his great-grandmother had been one of three daughters (and seven children) of some high-ranking noble and that a great-great-great granduncle had given each his grandnieces a bit of property and that that had been passed and partially sold down the years until now this man (mid/late 20s) occupies a too-large manor house with some decent grounds, though the surrounding farmland has all been sold off. And so it was given to him and he fusses with his bees and lives off his dwindling inheritance and a small annuity he gets from his older sister in exchange for honey and hosting his niephs every [SEASON] for education.

Alternatively, he was an engineer who made or designed some grand thing and lives off the money he got from selling it (or from royalties) while he tends his bees and tries to leave his old life behind entirely.

Alternatively, his grandparents won the land and manor in a card game and gave it to him when he became estranged from his parents. The manor had a secret treasure, maybe, which he's been living off ever since. Or, his grandparents die, leaving him money that he now lives off of in addition to his honey sales.

In all of these cases, the beekeeper isn't flush with cash. Might have enough for one big spend, but really has just enough to live on and keep the grounds maintained and to pay for someone to clean the house every other week or so.

I like the first one with the nods toward nobility because then technically as a landowner with a group of sworn knights, he could become the official local lord--which is a great relief to the town mayor who has been three near-ish lords off each other for the past couple years, each of whom want to bleed the town dry of all its resources and potential fighters.

put a pin in for the future

A beekeeper keeps to himself on the outskirts of a rural town. His country and a neighboring one (or two) are at war, but he ignores all that.

A former lieutenant in the neighboring country's army deserted years ago when she realized just how pointless the war was (maybe she was involved in intelligence as well as fighting?) and so now she lives in the rural town and is the local doctor's assistant and student. She wants to save lives now, instead of destroying them.

A group of knights are sent by their liege as bait to their slaughter. Their captain dyes giving his heavily injured team a chance to escape. They do and find respite near the buzzing hives of our beekeeper.

The beekeeper does not want to be involved even slightly in the war, but he can't let people die. He calls for the doctor, but the doctor is out, leaving only the assistant to help.

The doctor's assistant (hereon medic) is especially well-equipped to help, though, because she knows battle wounds better than any other kind. Together, the beekeeper and the medic keep the knights alive and help them heal.

The knights refuse to return to their lord. He sent them to die. Their captain did die. But, knights without a lord are outlaws and they don't want that either. Then one of them gets a brilliant idea....technically anyone who owns land can employ knights. Most don't, though, because of the financial aspects.

The knights swear their loyalty to the beekeeper. The beekeeper is not amused and puts them to work as laborers, which the knights don't actually mind. The battlefield was horrendous and this gives them time to heal.

But then the war draws nearer and threatens the nearby town. The beekeeper realizes, once again, he can't just do nothing, especially not as the newly minted lord of a company of knights. He assembles the knights and tells them he wants to defend the town.

The captain's protege has ideas, but he's young and still learning. Their lord had only sent one of his strategists to slaughter. The medic, who was doing a check-up at the time, hears their poorly thought out plans and realizes she has a choice: she can say nothing or she can step in as the strategic advisor (leader) these knights need.

She steps in. Together, they all defend the town. There's a wobble later when the knights learn their new captain was once an enemy, but this wobble leads to them deciding to basically declare neutrality, which the beekeeper is very happy to uphold. Neutrality means no war.

The small town is partially amused by their new local lord, though some are irritated. The medic and the knights train people to help defend the town, gather information, etc.

Eventually the town becomes a magnet for anyone wishing to declare neutrality, which also bolsters their forces. At first, the beekeeper (and everyone else) is happy to rest on their laurels, but then the unthinkable happens:

The war ends.

The leaders of the various countries need a place to hammer out a treaty and where better than this tiny pocket of neutrality?

Of course....not everyone wants the fighting to stop...