#we know he was the dean's golden boy

[enjoyerofstories]

I've been thinking for some time what nick's zodiac sign might be and I'm really curious what others' guesses are.

(this post turned out longer than i expected)

There are two possibilities on how his birthday will be revealed: like sel's (he or another character will say what month he was born in) or like bree's (his birthday will take place during the canon events). Now, I have a feeling (which could be wrong) that his birthday will occur in oathbound. The timeline for the third book will most probably be November-February (maybe March as well but I think that's a bit far-fetched) so this results in the following options for his zodiac sign (i excluded scorpio because tracy wouldn't assign him the same zodiac sign as bree's):

sagittarius

capricorn

aquarius

pisces

I'm too busy and too lazy to actually search about these zodiac signs but i've eliminated the sagittarius and aquarius options from the list (sagittarius because my best friend who knows more about astrology and who is a sagittarius herself said that sagittarius men are fuckboys and aquarius because i know an aquarius guy and he is the most arrogant person i've ever met). This doesn't mean nick can't be one of these two. My knowledge in astrology is limited and I'm basing my assumptions on what I've heard others say and my own experience.

That leaves capricorn and pisces. Well, i know next to nothing about pisces (tho i know like three people who are pisces i just didn't interact with them enough to form an opinion or see similarities) but i've met quite a lot of capricorns. They're hardworking and they usually have this subject they're very passionate about (for example, my cousin can talk about computers for hours and my aunt has hundreds of books about the english language and literature). I'm saying this because we know nick has been searching for ways to bring his mother's memories back which means he has the ability to thoroughly research something and he is disciplined. They're also friendly (tho they leave me with the impression that they're actually judging you internally). I cannot tell if nick would fit in this zodiac sign or not but there was this guy in middle school who was a capricorn that shared some (a lot) of nick's characteristics/traits.

Anyway, sorry for rambling so much. My assumption that his birthday will happen in oathbound might be entirely wrong so that leaves other options as well. I'm really curious what y'all think.

[akuzondotcom]

Obey Me! Brothers Eyes ft; My HCs. More info on My HCs listed below!!

Lucifer:

Lucifer I wanted to look the most Mature and Handsome. I gave him slit eye pupils and ocular scarring on one eye. I imagine he got his cross shaped scar in the war, it being a mark of a curse his Father laid upon him. Because of this curse, which I imagine to be mortality, I made him look slightly sickly, with translucent skin and pallor. I imagine he’s only got a few thousand more years left to live.

Mammon:

Mammon I gave golden freckles and one golden eye. I imagine he got this eye colour from an attempted spell to try and make his eyes turn golden in hue. However because he failed his spell classes, I imagine this failed, giving him heterochromia and 50/50 heterochromia in one eye. Lucifer scolded him for his reckless behaviours. Also I HC him as Aboriginal Australian, has nothing to do with his eyes specifically but I wanted an excuse to say that lol.

Leviathan:

I Imagine Leviathan has the least humanoid Demon form (it being a massive aquatic reptile) as such he struggles to maintain a convincing human form. This shows through with his eyes, them being dark and unblinking. I imagine instead of traditional blinking he has a nicitating membrane that covers his eyes from dirt and debris. He does however require eye drops to moisten his eyes when he’s away from water. I also imagine some of his scale pattern is still visible in his human form, Showing mainly around his eyes, neck, back legs and arms.

Satan:

Satan is the most humanoid of the demon brothers. Having light freckles, regular rounded pupils, and a more youthful appearance then his other brothers. The only sign something is different is the sigil in his eye, a sign of a spell he performed to grant himself more power.

Asmodeus:

(Note I HC Asmo uses any pronouns so I may use she or they when talking about him) Asmo was difficult as I picture her as a shapeshifter, them changing their body suit the trends. However I decided his most common form has rounded feminine features, long spiky lashes, and few demonic features that he deans cute (black sclera, slit pupils, pointed ears and sharp fangs etc). I imagine they wear light makeup, just enough to accentuate her features.

Beelzebub:

Beel has mostly humanoid features, save for his eyes. Instead of having a pupil and iris, he has one large multi compound pupil. Meaning instead of seeing one large image he sees thousands of tiny images, like a fly. Because of this I imagine he’s short sighted, and colour blind. However he is amazing at noticing form movement. Again much like a fly. Also my friend HCs him as a light skin black man so I do as well :).

Belphagor:

Belphie I wanted to make slightly more intimidating. I wanted to make him look gaunt and sickly, experiencing pallor, and with his eyes more deep-set. I also imagine his eyes have a spiral in them, one that if you stare into to long you can’t help but sleep. Also again, same friend HCs him as black so I do as well lol. Shout out to my boy Kris.

The Rest of the Casts eyes are coming soon. But for now we have the brothers!! Lemme know your HCs and who knows maybe I might take them on board lol.

[coryosbaby]

we (8 billion people) are begging for dom fem reader and coryo dynamic. Why she always gotta be sub like my dom ass would slap the shit out of him ong

ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !

Synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?

Content warning . power dynamics, loss of virginity, face riding, multiple orgasms, marking, sub!pussydrunk! Coryo, dom! Reader that’s a lil fucked up

notes: me when coryo has hair real . This kinda sucks I’m sorry

When you see Coriolanus Snow, you see a desperate man.

A boy, actually. You see a boy. A desperate, handsome, power hungry boy. You can see it in the way he towers over his peers in a sort of fake dominance, the fauxness behind his sugary sweet words directed to anything or anyone in a higher position— some even directed towards you, when that blush isn’t flushing his cheeks with a feral intensity.

As the daughter of Dr. Gaul, it’s quite easy for you to advance some of your friends in their studies. You are not only her daughter, but in a position of power yourself. You know people— and Coriolanus knows that. You aren’t dumb. You can tell by his eyes, the empty, icy blue orbs not quite telling the truth.

Coriolanus, in a way, is just like you.

Maybe that’s what intrigues you so much about him. Besides that pretty smile, or those golden curls or those muscles that make you drool, you admire his determination. You know about his poorness (not all know, but some do, as Dean Casca Highbottom once quoted to him), and you know one will go far to satiate their own greed.

It’s just a matter of how far.

—

Coriolanus walks into your lab crying, one day.

Not obviously. It’s subtle, as you demand he sit down and take off his shirt so you can stitch up his wounds. Your hands graze it softly, and he winces.

“Does it hurt?” You ask him, even though you already know the answer.

He lets out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at the seat.

“Yes.”

An honest answer. He must trust you.

You hum, beginning to work on his wound with taught precision. Looking at him now, his jaw is clenching tightly and the boy is shaking so much you fear he might break.

“I killed someone.”

He states it in a remorseful tone, the tone of someone weak and pathetic.

“Someone in the games, if I’m correct?”

He turns to look at you in surprise, as if you didn’t have access to your mother’s decision of allowing him to walk in there and save his friend Sejanus. He says nothing, then. He sniffles, and cries silently.

“You know,” you state, beginning to stitch him. “I’ve killed someone too. Someone I needed to kill.” You smile, remembering the one time a student who was threatening to take your place mysteriously fell into the pit of snakes. “It was necessary.”

Coriolanus tries to stay nonchalant, but you can see the way his shoulders tense. He doesn’t say a word, so you continue.

“Was it necessary to kill the person you killed?”

He looks down at his hands. Caked with blood, knuckles drawn taught. You want to bite them.

“No,” Coriolanus answers slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”

Maybe there’s more darkness to the boy than you originally thought.

You speak to him in a much lower tone now.

“Maybe it was. You just don’t know it.” And then, “There are a lot of things certain people can do to get to the top, Coriolanus.”

Your insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. He moves his head to look at you.

“And what would that be?”

Typical. Someone so power hungry that his head turns at the mere mention of an opportunity. You’ve got him right where you want him.

You finish up his stitches. You move around to his front, your short red skirt all of a sudden incredibly suffocating as he looks up at you with something utterly pathetic in his gaze.

“How far are you willing to go, Coriolanus?”

And that’s when, a few moments later, you get your wish: that skirt, oh so suffocating, is strewn on the floor, Coriolanus’ big hands massaging the skin of your thighs as you straddle him. Your lips press against his in a hot and heavy kiss, your tongue massaging his lips with fervor. He may be doing this for advancement, but the blonde wants you nonetheless. You can see in the way his hips grind up, the way he lets out desperate whines as you lick up his tears with your tongue. Pulling away from him, your cunt clenches when he tries to push your body down onto his crotch.

“No, Coryo,” you demand, though your voice is desperate. “I want you on the floor, okay? You’re going to taste me first.”

He hesitates, his eyes darting to your lacey panties and then to the colorful tiles.

“… the floor?”

He seems nervous, jittery. It’s not as if he’s afraid of getting dirty, or something.

No, this is something else. In the way he nervously twiddles his fingers, the way his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. It’s not as if he wants to stop— it’s more so that he’s inexperienced.

And then it hits you.

Coriolanus snow is a virgin. This big handsome boy, beautiful and delicious, has never done had sex before. He’s never felt the touch of a woman, never eaten pussy or got his dick sucked.

And for some reason, that makes you want him more.

“Oh,” you coo to him, soft. “Coryo, you’ve never done this before, have you?”

His face turns dusty pink, but he tries to deny, deny, deny.

“What? No! Of course I’m not. I’m just..” he looks at the floor, his lie clear on his face. “The tiles are cold. Dirty.”

“You’re caked with blood and sweat, sweet boy. I’m sure the tiles will be fine.”

He looks away from you, his lips drawn up into a pout.

“I’m not a virgin.” He states, merely to himself. You raise a brow, an amused smile playing on your lips as you move farther away from him.

“Then why don’t you come and eat my pussy, baby?”

His cock strains against his zipper, and you swear you can see it twitch from where you’re standing. He gulps, and with a submission you would’ve never expected, the boy drops to his knees on the tile and makes his way towards you. His shirt, unbuttoned, shows the pretty lines of his chest and his rippling back muscles, and when he gets to you, he stops at the front of your still standing knees. Satisfaction wades through you when his hands move up to the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with shaking hands. Your smell hits his nose, makes his head tilt back as he lets out a throaty sound in the back of his throat. His tongue laves over the skin of your inner thigh, his hands going around the back of one of your knees to pull you close. You spread your legs to allow him access, your pussy lips drenched with arousal as his breath laves over you.

“Go on, Coryo,” you urge. “You want me to put a good word to my colleagues, yeah? So you better do a good job.”

He moans, his tongue finally slipping in between your folds as he tastes you. He’s messy, sloppy, and it’s good but it’s not good enough.

“God. I thought you were experienced? Huh, Coryo? Don’t you wanna make me feel good? Are you even fucking trying?”

He pulls away from you, shame in his eyes as you scold him. He pleads, his lip wobbling, his arms holding onto your legs.

“Please, I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry. Teach me, please…”

He tries to press a kiss to your cunt, but you kick him away with your foot. He falls to the ground, helpless.

“Lay down—I don’t care if it hurts your back. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He does as he’s told, all sweet and sweaty and bloody. His back hits the tile, injured but he ignores it when he watches you tower over him. You move down, pressing your knees on either side of his head. He grabs your thighs to place his mouth back on you, but you grab his golden curls in your hands and yank him back. He groans in pain, his feet kicking in a sort of pleasured resistance.

“You use your mouth when I tell you to, coryo,” you scold, watching the way his eyes flutter and only focus on your dripping pussy. “You do what I say. If I guide your head, or press myself down at a certain spot, you go along with it. Do you understand me?”

He nods, desperate to get his mouth on you, his cock thrusting into the open air.

“Good. Now, go slower. Stick out your tongue.. wider… therrre you go, baby.” His eyes focus on that one spot, his tongue hovering right over your clit. He must have read up on this a time or two. You press him closer, shoving his face into your heat as his tongue hits the swollen bud. “You see that? That’s my clit. Yeahh, stick your tongue right there…”

He groans, the taste of your sweet slick making his eyes roll back. His palms splay across your ass, digging crescent moons into the skin. You move your hips in a circular motion, giving Coryo the impression to move his tongue that way. He’s a smart boy, so he knows exactly what you’re communicating to him. His tongue moves in slow, languid circles, your slick already dripping down his chin. You can’t help but give into the pleasure he’s giving you for a moment, riding his face like your life depends on it before slowing down and stopping.

“Good, coryo. You’re being such a good boy. But you need to move your tongue down. You don’t want to play with my clit too much, because I’ll cum quick if you do.”

He makes a noise of understanding, moving his tongue down to your hole. It’s much funner this way, he thinks. The tip of his tongue can gather up the awaiting slick that’s spilling out of you, it makes your taste all the more prominent. You give him some room to experiment now, letting him move his tongue in between your clit and your hole. He catches on, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was experienced now— he’s a natural learner. Your hips grind down into him, and when he tongues your hole you use his strong nose to grind lazily against. Coryo can only breathe in your slick, his brain becoming fuzzy from his lack of air. But it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s doing good.

You can feel yourself getting close, the languid strokes of his tongue making your legs shake. You hump against his mouth, your head thrown back.

“Gonna cum,” you say to him. “Gonna cum on this slut mouth.”

He groans, his jaw working even harder now. He focuses on your clit more, save for the few times that he slurps up the slick from your hole. Your orgasm is fast approaching, your body drawing up tight.

And finally, you’re cumming on his mouth, moans spilling from your lips and Coryo’s. He’s desperate to catch all of your cum onto his awaiting tongue, his legs still moving around as he consumes you like a man starved. Your eyes roll back and you grind your hips against him as you come down from your high. Coryo pulls away once he’s satiated, looking up at you with his chin coated in slick.

You sigh, pulling your hips back to give him some air. You move your body off of him, going to your knees to watch his pussy drunk face still follow your cunt as you move. You want to return the favor, now. It’s only fair.

But looking down, you notice a wet spot soaking through Coryo’s pants.

He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking from his crotch to you. He flushes, apologies spewing from his wet lips, shaking his head.

“I tried not to. I really, really did. ‘M so sorry.”

He tries to reach out to touch you, but you just move away and down to his crotch. You unbutton his jeans, and he lets you. You look down at his red briefs, watching the white stain peeking through.

“Oh, baby. You just couldn’t help, it could you?”

You mock him, your hand palming his shaft. He lets out a whimper, his head falling back against the tile. He knows it’s too much, but he isn’t stopping you. You pull his briefs down, and boy is he big. Thick and long, all pretty and red with cum dripping down to his balls. Your mouth waters, but you figure that can wait another day. His seed can be used for other things.

You flutter your lashes at him, your hand wrapping around his shaft, jerking him to hardness again. He’s got this look, contorted and pained and pleasured at the same time. You straddle his meaty thighs, your cunt lips brushing over his cockhead, and he gasps.

“W-Wait—“ he starts, choked. “It’s.. ‘S too much—“

“Then why are you hard again?” You tilt your head at him, your movements paused because he didnt give you full permission. “Don’t you want my warm, tight pussy? Don’t you want to make it to the top?”

And that gets him going, his arousal for you and power and riches. He nods, eyes rolling back as you sink down on him. The cum from his last orgasm coats your walls and makes it easier to fill yourself up, warm white streaks dripping down his cock again.

“Oh.. oh my god,” his mouth drops open, and you’ve never heard a boy so vocal. “Please… I want it, I want it!”

You know what he’s asking for. Your stilled hips are non moving, letting him stretch you and sit heavy inside your cunt. You smile, moving your hips just a bit, letting him feel your gummy walls sucking him in. His mouth is in the shape of an o, his hair messy and disoriented. He tries to grab your tits, your hips, and with a surprising force your palm strikes his cheek haughtily. He cries out, his thighs shaking, his hips thrusting up.

“No touching,” you demand. “You don’t get to do that. Give me your hands.”

He lets you take them, and you push them far over his head as you begin to work your hips harder, faster. His balls make plop plop plop-ing noises as they hit your ass, quivering and begging for you to let them empty inside you. You move down to his neck, leaving purpleish bruises over his skin, marking him as yours. You let go of his hands so you can rest your hands on his torso, and his hands move up. Not necessarily to touch, but to hover over your tits bouncing through your tight fitted shirt. You give him permission, just a moment, to squeeze the soft skin in his hands, give them a teasing, bold little slap. You breathe shakily, his cock filling you up in ways no other has. You watch as Coryo’s head tilts back, and you know he’s close.

“Gonna cum?” You taunt, your nails scraping against his chest. He groans, nodding. “Gonna fill up my tight little pussy? Cmon, give it to me, I know you want to.”

And when he spills into you, rope after rope of warm, hot cum filling you to the brim, you let out a cry. His fingers find your clit— he’s thought this through, hasn’t he? He rubs you until you’re seeing stars and clenching around his overstimulated cock with a loud sob. He moves up to kiss you hot on the mouth.

“Did I do good?” He asks.

You smile, your hand threading your hands through his hair as you both relax against each other.

“You did very good, Coryo. I’m so proud of you.”

He breathes out a chuckle, shoving his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he winces. His wound has been withstanding a lot of pressure.

“You probably want to put some ice on that.” You suggest to him. He shrugs.

“The tile was cold enough.”

[cheynovak]

Furry Hero

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     

Summary: A beautiful request from @deanwinchestersgirl8734

That was passed on by @jackles010378 ( Thank you for thinking of me ❤️ )

"Hey I was wondering if you ever thought of writing a dean or Jensen or Sam or Jared story about them meeting someone they like who has a service dog I follow someone online who has a seizure dog and I've never seen anyone write about that"

I hope you like it, it was new for me to write a story like this. So I might made a mistake or two about service dogs but I wanted to shine a light on these everyday heroes as well.

Warnings: None

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The musty smell of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights created an almost reverent silence in the small-town library. Sam Winchester pushed open the heavy door with a grin, his brother Daan trailing close behind, looking less than enthusiastic.

"Why do you always pick libraries?" Dean grumbled as they walked in. "What’s wrong with a good ol’ diner? Coffee, pie, real conversations?"

"Because libraries have records," Sam shot back, his long stride quickly overtaking Dean. "And the last thing this case needs is for you to flirt your way into trouble again."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm just saying, a little charm goes a long—" He stopped mid-sentence, his attention snapping to a figure seated at a nearby table.

A woman sat with a dog at her feet, flipping through a thick tome with practiced ease. Dean barely registered the woman's features because the dog—a fluffy, caramel-colored Golden Retriever—caught his attention first. Without thinking, Dean dropped into a crouch, extending his hand.

"Who's a good boy?" Dean cooed, the smile on his face rivaling the brightness of the overhead lights.

The dog's ears perked, its intelligent eyes locking onto Dean's hand before the woman—Y/N—cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me." Her tone was polite but firm, tinged with amusement. "He's a service dog. Please don’t pet him while he’s working."

Sam stifled a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dean, seriously?"

Dean froze, his hand midway to the dog's head, looking sheepish. "Right. Sorry. Service dog. Got it." He straightened up, brushing off invisible dirt from his jeans. "Guess I got a little excited. It's just… he's so fluffy."

Y/N chuckled softly, her eyes flicking between the brothers. "It happens more than you'd think. Most people can’t resist Buddy here."

Sam stepped in, his expression a mix of apology and curiosity. "Sorry about my brother. He's got no impulse control. I'm Sam, and this is Dean."

"Y/N," she replied with a small smile. "So, what brings you guys to this dusty corner of the world?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a quick glance, the unspoken language of years of hunting passing between them. Dean took the lead, his charm dialed back to a respectable level. "We’re looking into some… stuff going on in town. About the missing people, you wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you?"

Y/N frowned, her hand pausing on the page she’d been reading. "I haven’t seen anything myself, but…" She glanced down at Buddy, her expression thoughtful. "A couple of nights ago, Buddy started acting weird while we were walking past that old blue house on Sycamore Street. You know, the one where the girl went missing last week?"

Sam nodded, pulling a small notebook from his jacket. "What do you mean by weird? "

"Growling," Y/N confirmed. "And he wouldn’t go near the property. Buddy’s trained to stay calm, so it really freaked me out. I crossed the street, and even then, he kept his eyes locked on that house until we were out of sight."

Dean leaned against the table, his interest piqued. "Did you notice anything else? Lights on? Strange smells? Anything at all?"

Y/N shook her head. "No, but the air felt… off. Like, ice cold." She hesitated. Dean looked at Sam who just nodded but turned back to Y/N.

"If you’re okay with would you mind letting us know if Buddy picks up on anything else? Dogs are a lot more sensitive to things than people are."

Y/N glanced down at Buddy, who let out a soft huff as if in agreement. "Sure. I was planning to walk by there later today anyway. I can let you know if anything seems off."

"Perfect," Dean said, his grin returning. "In the meantime, you got any more tips for not offending a service dog?"

Y/N laughed, a genuine sound that made Dean's grin widen. "Just don’t call him fluffy again."

Sam started to walk back, Dean gave her his 'FBI' card. "Maybe you eh, could learn me a thing or two in a private talk?" Y/N smiled why don't you walk with us tonight?"

Later That day

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, painting the quiet park in shades of amber and gold. Y/N stood near the entrance, Buddy’s leash wrapped loosely around her hand as she scanned the area. Her heart fluttered slightly when she spotted Dean strolling toward her, his leather jacket slung casually over his shoulder and his trademark grin firmly in place.

"Hey," Dean greeted, his voice warm as he stopped a few feet away. His gaze dropped to Buddy, who stood alert at Y/N’s side. "Still working, huh? Guess I’ll keep my hands to myself this time."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Probably for the best. But he’s off-duty once we start walking in the park. That’s his rule, not mine."

Dean crouched, giving Buddy a respectful nod. "You hear that, pal? I’m in your territory now."

Buddy wagged his tail slightly, his usual stern demeanor relaxing just a bit, and Y/N chuckled again. "I think he’s starting to like you. That’s impressive—he doesn’t warm up to most people."

Dean straightened, his grin turning just a touch smug. "Well, I do have a way with animals... And women."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. "So, what’s the plan? You asked me out to make up for the dog thing, and here we are. A romantic walk in the park?"

Dean tilted his head, pretending to think. "That’s part of it. The other part’s getting to know you better." Touched by the sincerity in his voice, Y/N nodded, feeling her nerves ease.

The two of them fell into an easy rhythm as they walked along the park’s winding paths, Buddy trotting happily ahead. They talked about everything and nothing: Y/N’s job, Buddy’s quirks, Dean’s favorite pie recipes, and even a few funny stories.

Dean never opened up so easily, but Y/N felt safe. He even felt guilty not telling her his real job.

Eventually, they reached a secluded clearing by a small lake. Buddy, now fully off-duty, sniffed around the grass nearby, keeping a watchful eye on Y/N as always.

Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets, his expression softening as he looked at her. "You know, I gotta admit... I wasn’t just making up for petting your dog when I asked you out."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "Oh? What was it, then?"

Dean hesitated for half a second, his usual bravado faltering. "I don’t know. There’s something about you. You’re tough, smart, funny..."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Well, you’re not so bad yourself. Even if you don’t always follow the no-petting rule."

Without knowing Y/N and Dean walked up to the old blue house on the corner. The house loomed in the dark, its broken shutters creaking in the cold wind.

"Buddy’s already on edge," Y/N whispered, gripping the dog’s harness. The Retriever growled low in his throat, his fur standing on end.

"Looks like we’re in the right place," he murmured, his hand instinctively hovering over the pistol tucked in the back of his jeans. He gently pulled Y/N behind him, his expression serious. "Let me call Sam. Might as well take a look."

Y/N tilted her head, her brows furrowing. "Take a look? At this time? What are you looking for exactly?"

Dean didn’t answer right away, pulling out his phone and texting Sam with quick precision. A low growl from Buddy at her side sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine, his ears flat against his head as he stared intently at the house.

Minutes later, headlights illuminated the driveway as the Impala’s familiar sleek silhouette rolled up. Sam hopped out, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure against the twilight.

"Dean, you sure about this?" Sam asked, walking around to the trunk of the Impala.

Dean opened it with a practiced motion, and Y/N’s jaw dropped. Inside was an arsenal of weapons: guns, knives, vials of strange liquids, and boxes of ammo. Dean grabbed his shotgun, quickly loading it with salt rounds. "Oh yeah, Sammy. This place is humming."

"What the hell is this?" Y/N blurted, gesturing to the weapons.

Dean glanced at her, his face unreadable. "Insurance."

"Insurance?" she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Sam stepped closer, his voice calm but firm. "Y/N, this is what we do. What you saw or better what Buddy felt was a ghost, somehow every year children disappear, this is how we deal with things like that. But it’s dangerous. You need to stay back."

Dean nodded in agreement, his green eyes serious as he looked at her. "Let us handle this. Buddy too. Keep him close."

The brothers headed toward the house, their weapons drawn. But as they approached the door, Buddy let out a sharp bark and yanked his leash free from Y/N’s hand.

"Buddy!" Y/N shouted, sprinting after him as the dog bounded up the steps and slipped through the open door.

"Dammit!" Dean cursed, rushing after her. "Y/N, no!"

She didn’t hesitate, running after Buddy into the house. The second she crossed the threshold, the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind her with an echoing bang.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, trying to open the locked door.

Dean spun around, his grip tightening on his shotgun. "Y/N, you were supposed to stay outside!"

Y/N ignored him, her eyes scanning the dark, decaying interior. "I wasn’t about to leave Buddy in here! Where is he?"

A deep growl echoed through the house, sending a chill down everyone’s spines. The air grew colder, and the faint smell of rotting wood and sulfur filled Y/N’s nostrils. Buddy barked from somewhere deeper in the house, his sharp warning cutting through the oppressive silence.

"Stay close," Dean ordered, positioning himself between Y/N and the direction of the sound. "Sam, get her ass out of here!"

"I’m trying!" Sam called back, his voice muffled. "The door’s not budging."

Dean fired the first shot, the salt round scattering the shadow momentarily. "Well, this isn’t gonna be easy," he muttered. "You think?" Sam retorted.

Dean muttered a curse under his breath. He handed Y/N a flashlight from his jacket pocket. "Hold this. If you see anything—anything weird—don’t scream. Just tell me where it is."

Y/N nodded, clutching the flashlight with trembling hands as they moved further into the house. Dean led the way, his shotgun raised, while Buddy’s distant barks drew them closer to the heart of the building.

"Dean," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. "What is that smell?"

Dean’s jaw clenched. "Something bad. Stay close."

As they rounded a corner, they found Buddy standing in front of a doorway, his teeth bared and his growls low and menacing. Dean raised his shotgun as a shadowy figure flickered into view inside the room.

Dean kicked the door open seeing the bodies piled up. Y/N gasped. "Oh my!"

"Bingo Dean whispered under his breath, he started to salt and burn the corpses."Sam! Get her out of here," Dean said sharply, his voice low. "Now."

Y/N grabbed Buddy’s collar, her fear mounting. "What about you?"

"I’ll handle it," Dean said, his gaze locked on the figure as he loaded another shell. "Just go!"

Sam did everything to get Y/N out of the house while Dean started to burn the old remains he found in

Hours later: very very early morning

The warm glow of the diner’s neon sign spilled across the parking lot as Y/N slid into the booth opposite Dean and Sam. Buddy lay obediently at her feet, his golden coat reflecting the light from the hanging lamp above them.

The Winchester brothers had earned more than a few curious looks from the other patrons with their slightly singed jackets and dark circles under their eyes, but they didn't seem to notice—or care.

"Best fries in town," Dean said, sliding a menu across the table to Y/N. "Although, if you’re like me, you’re here for the pie."

Y/N chuckled, scanning the menu. "You were right; I am starving after all that. So… is this what you guys do? Travel around, fight ghosts, and eat questionable diner food?"

"Pretty much," Sam replied with a small smile, leaning back in the booth. "Although Dean’s dietary choices aren’t exactly… standard."

Dean mock-gasped. "Excuse me, my food choices are a finely tuned science. Protein and sugar keep me going during hunts." He paused, his grin softening. "But yeah, hunting—it’s what we do. Saved your life tonight, didn’t it?"

Y/N glanced down at Buddy, her hand instinctively reaching to scratch behind his ears. "It did. And Buddy here… He’s smarter than I gave him credit for." She looked up at them, her expression warm. "Honestly, I can’t thank you guys enough. If it weren’t for you, I don’t even want to think about what might’ve happened."

Dean waved a hand, brushing off the gratitude. "Hey, it’s all in a day’s work. Besides, Buddy deserves most of the credit. Guy’s got instincts."

"He really does," Y/N agreed, her voice tinged with awe. "I thought he was just being stubborn that night, refusing to cross the street, but now I’m realizing… he probably saved me." Her smile faltered slightly as she looked between the two brothers. "I can’t imagine how you do this all the time. Doesn’t it get… exhausting? Scary?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them. Sam was the one who answered. "It’s not easy. But someone has to do it. Most people wouldn’t even believe half the things we’ve seen. So, yeah, it’s scary sometimes, but… it’s worth it."

Dean leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "And hey, it’s not all bad. We’ve got stories for days. Like that time a possessed mannequin tried to stab me. Or when Sam got body-snatched by a teenage girl." He grinned mischievously as Sam groaned in protest.

Y/N laughed, the sound light and genuine, cutting through the heaviness of the earlier hunt. "You guys really are something else."

As the evening wore on, the conversation shifted from ghost stories to lighter topics. Y/N told them about Buddy’s training and how she’d adopted him after he flunked out of guide dog school for being "too easily distracted." Dean snorted at that, muttering, "Sounds like we’ve got something in common, pal," earning a bark of approval from Buddy.

When the check finally arrived, Y/N reached for it, but Dean slid it away with a wink. "Hunter’s treat."

"Thanks," Y/N said softly, her eyes lingering on the brothers. "This has been… really nice. Weird, but nice."

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Y/N dug a small notepad from her bag, scribbling her number and handing it to Dean. "If you guys are ever back in town, give me a call. It was really nice meeting you both."

"Likewise," Sam said, his smile sincere.

Dean, however, seemed unusually quiet. He watched as Y/N clipped Buddy’s leash back on and headed toward her car. His gaze lingered as she opened the door, Buddy hopping inside.

Sam smirked, his arms crossed. "So… I’m starting to guess it wasn’t the dog that had your attention this time."

Dean snapped out of his daze, turning to his brother with an indignant look. "Huh? What’re you talking about?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, come on. You were practically drooling."

Dean scoffed, but the faintest hint of a blush crept up his neck. "I was not. I was just… impressed, that’s all. She’s smart. And brave. And… whatever, shut up."

"Uh-huh," Sam said, his grin widening. "Impressed. Sure."

Dean jumped up, rushing out the door "Y/N! Wait up!". She stopped reversing her car. "What's wrong?" Dean leaned on her now open window. Dean seemingly nervous. "I figured maybe we could start over. No ghosts. No hunts. Just… us."

"I’d like that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dean’s smile widened, but it faded slightly as he glanced down at her lips, his expression turning serious. "Can I kiss you? Or is that off-limits too?"

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re in the clear this time."

Dean didn’t need any more encouragement. He leaned in, his hand brushing lightly against her cheek as their lips met. The kiss was warm and gentle, filled with a tenderness Y/N hadn’t expected but welcomed all the same.

"Call me?" he asked like a shy little schoolboy. Y/N Smirked only if you promise our date walks won't end in horror movies anymore?"

“Deal!” and with that he leaned back for another breathtaking kiss. Much to Buddy's disapproval

WOOF

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The Bee Movie.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Coming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Can you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive City graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick our job today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! -

That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Catches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Can anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Check it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it.

Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Couple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Come on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening.

See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick.

That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Cool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Could be daisies. Don't we need those? Copy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Chemical-y. Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Candy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Coming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny!

What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Come on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. 

That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Can I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Coffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Come on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Can I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out your job and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating.

You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Cinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Cute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. -

You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Crazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Carl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads!

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

Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Case number 4475, Superior Court of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry?

They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Cloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Call your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the right job. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - 

What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Chapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins!

I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Could you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - 

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

That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. – That just kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Could you ask him to slow down? Could you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - 

Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Can you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Captain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Can I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Captain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out!

Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Come on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Can you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Come on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Come on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - 

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

[takerfoxx]

I'm so fucking confused what did the Rock do

It's a very long and complicated tale, but the short version, the Rock recently joined the board of directors for TKO (WWE's parent company) and SEEMINGLY (as we don't know the full behind the scenes story just yet) used his clout to push himself into the Wrestlemania main event, challenging his sort of cousin Roman Reigns for the WWE Universal Championship and pushing aside Cody Rhodes, the guy that was supposed to be Roman's challenger, and thereby sabotaging a two-year story that everyone was invested in right when it was about to see it's conclusion. And people are pissed about it.

That's the short version. Here is the loooooonnnnnggggg version.

WWE has been plagued by a number of issues over the years (not the least being that it's been run by an actual rapist for the last four decades), but the two relevant issues is a tendency to rely on past their prime stars of yesterday at the expense of building new stars for today, and when they do want to build a new star, they have a bad habit of shoving their chosen golden boy down everyone's throat to everyone else's detriment in a nakedly inauthentic manner until the fans get sick of them (see: Ultimate Warrior, John Cena, and, most recently, Roman Reigns, who will become important later). Needless to say, they've had a lot of trouble getting the crowd behind what is known as the White Meat Babyface, or primary good guy.

The Rock started off as the latter, being introduced as Rocky Maivia, who was a wholesome good boy who was just so happy to be here. People saw through it and booed the fuck out of him. In rare case of the WWE actually listening and responding, they turned Rocky heel and let him vent his frustrations at the fans, which let everyone know that, holy shit, this guy is actually insanely charismatic and probably the best trash talker in the business! Thus, the Rock was born.

However, while he certainly earned his accolades during his heyday, his returns since haven't been so universally admired (see previous note about the WWE pushing the stars of yesterday). One instance about ten years ago involves him main eventing Wrestlemania against John Cena over CM Punk, who was the reigning WWE Champion at the time, and was quite annoyed. Okay, the Rock vs. John Cena could be excused on account of being that much of a dream match, but then they had CM Punk end his year long title run to the Rock so he and Cena could main event again, this time with the title on the line. This was one of the many issues that reportedly led to CM Punk walking out a few months later.

Now, let's move away from the Rock for a bit and talk about Roman Reigns, who was another example of the WWE ramming their chosen golden boy down everyone's throat. Like the Rock, he is part of the venerated Anoa'i Family, who are practically wrestling royalty with how many superstars they've produced (though they're not actually related by blood, but that doesn't matter, as those who marry or are adopted in are still considered full members of the clan).

Roman began as part of the massively popular trio known as the Shield, alongside Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose. And during their two year run, the Shield were kind of incredibly awesome. Three badasses closer than brothers just wrecking a path of destruction against all those who stood in their way, a perfect combination of violence and genuine comradery...right until Seth Rollins betrayed the group and they all became single stars.

Now, despite the WWE having high hopes for all three, Roman was clearly the anointed heir, despite being the least experienced of the three. Unfortunately, they went about this by making him essentially a John Cena clone. Smelling another corporate babyface about to be shoved down their throats, the fans turned on him and turned on him HARD, making him the most loathed face in wrestling for years despite always being treated by the company as a beloved hero. Finally, the decision was made to turn Roman Reigns heel, unleashing his dark side and turning him into the Tribal Chief, a sadistic and manipulative monster who's held an iron grip on the title for literally years. Needless to say, it has been a massive improvement, and he is now quite awesome (though people are sick of how long he's been champion, but that's neither here nor there).

Anyway, heel Roman has been champion for basically forever at this point, and it's been a question of who will eventually be the one to dethrone him, because whoever it is automatically becomes the biggest star in the business. And given what an accomplishment that is, there really can be no place it can happen other than the main event of Wrestlemania.

Enter Cody Rhodes.

Like Roman and the Rock, Cody also comes from a prestigious wrestling family. Cody is the son of the late, great Dusty Rhodes, the American Dream. And this pedigree has weighed heavily on him, both in and out of storyline.

Now, unlike his plain-looking and tubby father, Cody looks like he was grown in a lab to become the perfect WWE wrestler. Movie star looks, an absolutely ripped body, and physical charisma for days. Despite this, his first WWE run didn't go how he wanted. While he saw a fair amount of success, he never seemed to break out of the midcard and was eventually saddled with the loathed Stardust gimmick, which he absolutely hated, and after realizing that things weren't going to change, he decided to bet on himself and leave the WWE to prove everyone wrong.

This ended up working beyond anyone's wildest dreams.

To say that Cody was successful post WWE would be a gross understatement. Rebranding himself as the American Nightmare, Cody became the opposite of everything his father was, dressing in snappy suits and carrying himself in an arrogant, sadistic manner. He worked for a number of places, from TNA to Ring of Honor to New Japan, and saw massive success, winning multiple titles across multiple promotions and building himself as a force to be reckoned with. He was also the impetus for the historically significant All In event, in which a number of wrestlers from a number of different promotions banded together to put on the first non-WWE show to have over ten thousand people in attendance in over twenty years, which eventually led to the creation of AEW, which Cody was an intrinsic part of as well. Needless to say, Cody was cooking.

Unfortunately, his own way of doing things didn't mesh well with the AEW audience, and they turned on him pretty hard after a year or two. Eventually he left to return to the WWE, and a lot of people questioned if he was making a mistake, given how he was treated the last time.

However, his gamble had paid off. His worth had been proved, and now WWE was all in (pun intended) on Cody Rhodes. In contrast to the volatile AEW crowd, the WWE fans welcomed the prodigal son back with open arms. And surprising all cynics (including myself), this love continued strong even after the novelty of Cody Rhodes back wore off, probably bolstered by how carefully his storylines were plotted, some truly killer performances in the ring, and the respect garner by him being an absolutely fucking champ and wrestling Seth Rollins in a Hell in a Cell match despite having a horribly torn pec.

Finally, the WWE had a White Meat babyface that the fans universally accepted and wanted to see more of, and they were going to capitalize. He won the Royal Rumble to rapturous applause and entered in a program with Roman Reigns to challenge him for his title at Wrestlemania. And unlike other challengers, he actually seemed like a credible threat. Much was made about how his father had also challenged for the same title but could never capture it, so he wanted to do what his father couldn't and finish the story. People were behind Cody all the way, and the time seemed right for Roman to finally fall and a new top star to be crowned.

And then Cody lost. Roman cheated, and Cody lost.

Needless to say, people were pissed. However, others said that maybe this was leading to a rematch at the following year's Wrestlemania, making his eventual victory all the sweeter. Certainly, WWE still seemed behind Cody, as he spent the next year in several high profile feuds that kept him looking strong, including going over Brock Lesnar of all people. And again, the fans remained behind him, when in past cases they would have turned on the guy by now. Believe me, this hadn't happened in a very long time.

But not all was well. There were rumbles that the Rock might be queuing up for a return one of these days, possibly to finally face Roman Reigns in another dream match to settle who the true Tribal Chief of the Anoa's family. People had been wanting that match for years, but for it to happen now, upsetting Cody's chance to finally finish his story? Well, that was the worst possible time. However, these rumors seemed to be nothing more than that. Just rumors.

And then CM Punk came back.

Now, Punk is a whole can of worms all in himself, and could easily fill a full post of his own. But the important thing is that he and Cody are very much dark reflections of each other, especially in how both were screwed over by WWE during their first runs, left under dark circumstances, and returned to the fans' adoration. And they both coveted that Wrestlemania main event.

In fact, during an awesome promo battle between the two, Punk specifically pointed out that he intended to do to Cody what the Rock had done to him ten years ago: be that bigger star who came back after not being around for a long time and take that Wrestlemania main event away. And sure enough, during the Royal Rumble, the final two in the ring were CM Punk and Cody Rhodes.

And Cody won. The first man in years to win back to back Rumbles. He singled out Roman Reigns as his target, cementing their Wrestlemania rematch. As for Punk, he had a main event of his own, as he was apparently scheduled to face Seth Rollins for the World Heavyweight Title at night 1 of Wrestlemania. It seemed that both of the prodigal sons were getting their wish!

And then CM Punk got hurt really bad and had to pull out of Wrestlemania.

Well, that sucks, but it shouldn't upset plans too badly. Seth could just wrestle someone else, and Cody's two year story could proceed like everyone wanted.

Well, we all know what happened next.

Yup. It happened. The Rock, likely with the backing of his new position on the TKO's board, had pushed himself into Cody's spot, while Cody (as it appears) will be replacing Punk to take on Seth Rollins instead. A two year story, flushed down the drain. Punk's words had turned out to be prophetic.

And while the fans were cheering in that video, once the buzz had worn off and people realized what had happened, that's when things got nasty. Over the last few days, people have turned on the Rock and turned on him HARD. Rocky sucks chants fill WWE events, #wewantcody trends for days, videos of the Rock get booed, and (unfortunately) even members of his family have gotten caught in the crossfire. People are NOT happy about this direction. Cody is their guy, and right when his story was going to be completed, right when Roman was going to be dethroned by the guy that everyone wanted to see beat him, this happens.

Plus, since then reports have been swirling that this decision was made by the TKO board, not WWE, with the Rock specifically pushing for it to "Save Wrestlemania." Which hasn't exactly warmed people to the idea.

Which is really funny, because the last time Roman Reigns and the Rock shared a ring together, it was in the middle of Roman's disastrous babyface run where the fans hated him, especially in Philadelphia, a city noted for its rebellious fans, and the WWE sent the Rock out to help Roman in hopes of changing their minds.

It didn't work.

And where is Wrestlemania this year? Oh right, Philadelphia.

This is going to be...interesting, to say the least.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1566

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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Please Read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 2

The journey to the bunker was pretty uneventful, with Sam and Charlie chatting amongst themselves in the front of the car whilst both myself and Dean sat miserably next to each other in the back like a couple of criminals who’d been arrested. The chains on my handcuffs jangled as I rubbed my sore knuckles; the skin raw, bruised and red from either my own blood or - most likely - Deans. As I did, I could feel a red hot glare burning into the side of my face from the older Winchester, as though he was in disbelief that I even had the audacity to feel any pain or discomfort right now as dark red scabs formed on his nose and cheek. We pulled up next to the bunker, and I didn’t get much chance to look at the surrounding scenery as the moment we were parked, the golden retriever duo up front hopped out, slammed their doors shut and threw ours open, Sam gently yet firmly grasping my elbow and pulling me to my feet whilst Charlie did the same for Dean. We were marched into the building and we soon arrived in what I assumed to be the kitchen. Sam pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to take a seat at the table to which I obliged with Dean following suit and taking a seat opposite me. We stared each other down from across the table for a few moments, the atmosphere growing thicker by the second as his brilliant green eyes pierced mine.

“Enough the pair of you!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Look, I’ve got some things to say before we release you both back into the wild. It won’t take long,” she sighed and rubbed her temples. “I wanted to introduce you guys to (Y/n) because I thought you would get along! With your shared interest in hunting, bootcut jeans, rock music and most importantly - pie.”

Dean and I shot each other a quick glance before looking away again. Charlie continued.

“You’ve had one disagreement, and even though I was impressed by the performance it definitely didn’t warrant the carnage. You’re both adults, so act like it and stop bickering like children. You’re going to be living and working together now so you’re both just going to have to suck it up and move on.”

Sam stepped forward; “I agree with Charlie. (Y/n) you have no idea how much of a help you being here is going to be. We’ve been going around in circles for months and we really need a fresh pair of eyes. Plus you get free food and board, if that helps,” he grinned slightly trying to lighten the mood. I humoured him and softened my eyes, raising my eyebrows in acknowledgment to the pros of staying here.

“Right,” he clapped his hands together, “we’re going to remove the tape and you’re both going to be civilised. You promise?”

I gave Dean one final long, hard stare before nodding.

”Good,” Sams soft cool fingers grazed my cheek as he pulled up the corner of the tape, gently peeling it back until it was removed and I could finally take a deep breath. Meanwhile, Charlie approached Dean and in one swift movement ripped the tape from his mouth in under a second.

“FUCK!” He cried out as he tenderly touched his now extra sore swollen lips. I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Right, I’m going to go and get (Y/n)s belongings from the motel room she’s staying in and check her out then I’ll be right back with all her stuff. I’ll see you guys later!” And before I could even protest for her to take me with her, she’d turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the bunker, leaving Sam to undo our cuffs and set us free.

“That bitch,” I sighed, huffing a strand of hair out of my face. Sam knelt before me, that kind look in his eye ever twinkling.

“(Y/n) I promise you that you're safe here. It’s warded to the teeth and full of everything we need to survive. We’ve got you,” he patted my knee before taking my hands in his, using a small key to finally undo the cuffs right before they clattered to the floor. I leant down to pick them up, and by the time I’d sat back up to place them on the kitchen table, he was already beside Dean doing the same for him. His own cuffs removed and rubbing his wrists, he stood, looking from me to Sam a few times before speaking.

“Well I’ve already suffered enough today so I’m going to spend time coming up with a better excuse as to why I look like this,” he gestured to his beaten face and turned to leave, mumbling a quick ‘see ya later’ to Sam before leaving the kitchen. Sam stood awkwardly for a second, before declaring that he was going to get some lunch for everyone and also scurried away, leaving me completely alone in alien territory. I was still sat at the table as I began to look around.

This place was a dump.

How did these grown ass men live in conditions like this? The dirty dishes were piled so high that it was a surprise they hadn’t toppled over yet. Empty beer bottles cluttered the table and countertops, the bin was overflowing with bulging bin bags dumped right next to it without being taken outside and the smell was starting to make me feel a little nauseous. How does Sam expect us all to eat and live together in conditions like this? It was like living with a couple of wild animals. After a few silent moments to myself I released a breath I’d been holding whilst I pondered. I ran my hands through my hair and laughed at myself in disbelief. I’m gonna have to clean the fucking kitchen. Without giving it a second thought and running the risk that I’d change my mind, I scooped my hair into a high ponytail using the bobble on my wrist and pushed up my sleeves, finding a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Let’s clean this bitch.

*

In the space of about an hour and a half (a gruelling hour and a half), I’d washed and dried the dishes, putting them away in their respective places, taken out all the trash and lined the bin with a fresh bag, scrubbed and disinfected every surface and had even mopped the floors. The smell of rotting trash was dissipating and the urge to claw off my own skin had gone. I’d propped the mop against the wall and stepped back to admire my hard labour when I heard a door open and close, the entering footsteps heading my way. Sam emerged into the kitchen, a stunned look on his face as he walked to the table slowly, placing about 6 bags of ‘groceries’ on its surface. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was searching for the right things to say.

“You’re welcome,” I cut in, hoping to help him find his words.

“Yeah, thank you! I’m sorry, I didn't know what to say - you really didn’t have to do this. It’s embarrassing that you were even put in a situation where you felt you had to,” he grimaced a little, only now realising what a horror show it was that they were living in. “But seriously thank you, I really appreciate it,” he smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. Sam was sweet and easy to like - unlike his Neanderthal brother. I felt like I could trust him.

I peeled my gloves off, threw them in the bin and approached the kitchen table where Sam was pulling out a case of beer.

“Here, you deserve one of these,” he said, handing me one. The bottle was nice and cool on my hot fingertips, my warm skin instantly relishing the coldness.

“Thank you,” I smiled before popping the cap and taking a long, well deserved drink. I savoured the moment, genuinely appreciating Sam’s gesture. Although all nice moments comes to an end, and soon Dean was striding into the room bold as brass, seating himself at the table and helping himself to a beer without so much as a hello. It wasn’t until he’d drained half the bottle in one gulp that he realised the kitchen was clean. He grinned and looked at his brother.

“Hey, nice job Sammy! It looks great in here, I owe you one,” he raised his bottle as if making a small toast whilst Sam’s eyes flicked to mine.

“Uh, Dean… this wasn’t me. You need to thank (Y/n) for that,” Deans grin faulted slightly as he looked between the two of us before it returned. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in suspicion. His forest green eyes pierced into mine as he almost purred his next sentence.

“Well, Sammy, it looks like we’ve bagged ourselves a maid. Does she cook too?”

I slammed my bottle on the table, much like I did earlier. Only Sam flinched.

“I’m not your fucking maid,” I snarled, resenting that shit-eating grin on the older Winchesters lips. He chuckled, the sound coming deep from within his chest as he rose to his feet.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

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Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33

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Up Next:

Chapter 3

[training4theapocalypse]

Sweet (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, mutual pining, confessions, GOOEY ROMANCE, Christmas 🎄

Summary: You try to ignore your feelings for your best friend, Cormac McLaggen. Reader and Cormac are both 18+.

A/N: A Christmas fic! The Sabrina Carpenter-fication of Gryffindor Common Room. I know everyone hates Cormac but my full-time job is actually fixing him (lets not look into what that says about me okay thanks). I wrote this for @cinderellasmissingshoes but it's been so long she's deactivated (RIP girl). Also, it turns out, anything can be a one-shot if you just post it all at once!!!! And nobody can stop you!!!!!

Masterlist

Chapter text:

The Gryffindor Common Room is a riot of gold and red, as laughter and music fill the room. Even though Quidditch has never been your thing, a team win is always a good excuse to get swept up in the celebration. You’re dressed the part, of course, with a red bow in your hair and wearing a borrowed, oversized Gryffindor training jumper that by a happy coincidence makes the gloss on your lips pop.

The victory has everyone riding high, but as much as you’re enjoying the party, you can't help feeling a little tug of concern for one person. You’re at Katie Bell’s side, amongst the throng of her teammates happily celebrating as the rest of the party-goers chant Ron Weasley’s name but your eyes search the crowd for a certain someone. You excuse yourself - Katie will be fine without you for a few minutes. 

Cormac McLaggen hasn’t been at all himself lately. And while Katie is adamant that she considers this to be an improvement, his newfound reservation is just plain weird. Katie told you to stop worrying about Cormac, that he was probably just sulking over not being chosen as Keeper for the Quidditch team this year and that he should just lighten up. And you’d probably agree if the change hadn’t been so drastic - usually so confident, even arrogant at times, he’s been acting almost shy lately.

Cormac’s tall, broad figure and golden halo of curly hair are easy to spot from the other side of the room. He’s half-heartedly chatting with Dean Thomas, who, like Cormac, is still nursing the sting of not making the team. 

“Cheer up, boys!” you call. Dean still looks sullen but Cormac's entire demeanour shifts when he grins at you skillfully weaving through the crowd towards them without spilling the two butterbeers in your hands. “Anyone would think we’d lost to Slytherin if they saw your faces,” you joke, slipping into the tight space next to him. 

"Well, we wouldn't have let so many in if I'd -" starts Cormac.

"If you'd have been chosen as Keeper," you finish. His many complaints about Harry Potter's chosen team are easy to memorise and rhyme off back to him. "I know. I know. But we won, right?"

“Since when did you refer to the team as ‘we’?” teases Cormac, accepting the bottle you thrust into his hands. “Big Quidditch fan now are you?”

You smooth down the jumper you’re wearing, so oversized that the hem of it sits just above your skirt. “Well, if I’d known I’d look this cute in the team merch, I might have taken an interest sooner.”

“I don’t care how cute you look, I want it back.” 

He flashes a smile and you can’t ignore the flurry of butterflies you feel. 

“Oh, come on. We both know it looks better on me,” you shoot back, enjoying the fun of prying a compliment from him. 

Cormac presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, considering you, before finally concluding, “Debatable.”

You both laugh and you feel a warm sense of satisfaction that your attempt to take his mind off his exclusion from the team is working.

“Oldest trick in the book, mate. Don’t fall for it,” Dean interjects with a knowing smile, snapping Cormac’s attention away from you. You almost forgot Dean was there. 

“What’s the oldest trick in the book?” asks Cormac.

“Everyone knows if you give your girlfriend your clothes, they’re hers for good. You’re never getting them back.”

You and Cormac look at each other awkwardly. The flirtatious banter suddenly feels much more complicated by Dean’s assumption. 

Because Cormac is not your boyfriend. 

In fact, in the run-up to Yule Ball several years ago, he made it crystal clear that he wasn’t into you like that. 

Cormac opens his mouth to reply but you spare him the necessity of correcting Dean and hurting your feelings. 

“Oh, we’re not going out,” you blurt before he can. “I was cold when we were watching the game and Cormac was just being nice.” Dean’s sceptical eyebrow rises, flicking between you and Cormac. Attributing the sudden flush in your cheeks to the heat of the room, rather than embarrassment, you say, “Actually, I don’t need this anymore now that we’re inside - here hold this.” You hand Cormac your butterbeer and start pulling off the jumper.

“No, look, you don’t have to -” Cormac starts, but you’re already tugging the woollen fabric off over your head. The scent of him - clean, with just a hint of his woody aftershave - floods your senses, making your heart twist painfully in your chest at its sudden absence. 

You toss your hair back and hastily fix yourself.

“Here -” you say, taking the butterbeer back and replacing it with his jumper. 

“Thanks,” Cormac mutters, but there’s a hint of annoyance as he does. He takes the jumper before throwing a look at Dean.

“Katie’s probably looking for me,” you announce, needing to put some distance between you and this now-too-complicated situation. You turn on your heel, attempting to slip back into the midst of things with your usual grace, but there’s a slight stumble in your step - barely noticeable, but enough to rattle you.

As you make your way over to Katie, you’re distracted by a sudden onslaught of whooping and cheering. Through a gap in the crowd, you see Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown unreservedly snogging.

That’s odd, you think. You could have sworn he was going out with - 

The portrait hole opens and you spot a flash of bushy brown hair exiting the Common Room. 

A hand grabs your arm. “Sweet!” The familiar nickname that you’ve never quite been able to shake off - not that you mind it - there are certainly worse things to be called. “There you are!” says Katie, her eyes sparkling with post-victory excitement.

“Did you just see -?”

Katie rolls her eyes. “The giant squid impression in the middle of the room? Yup.”

“Do you think we should see if Hermione is alright?” you ask, looking back over to the portrait hole.

“Harry’s already on it,” Katie says, nodding toward the door where Harry disappears after Hermione. “C’mon, I need another butterbeer.”

As you follow her, it’s not long before Katie brings up her favourite subject of late - Professor Slughorn’s Christmas party in a few weeks. Neither of you made Slughorn’s elite list of attendees so the only way you’ll get invited is if someone asks you. As much as you’d love the opportunity to get dressed to the nines, you could do without the drama. If the Yule Ball taught you anything, school dances inevitably lead to heartbreak. 

“I don’t even want to go, anyway,” you insist. “See - this is a party. Slughorn’s will be so dry. I mean, there’ll be more teachers and Ministry bigwigs than students.”

“You know, if Cormac weren’t going, I’d suggest throwing our own party on the same night. But we couldn’t do that to him...” A mischievous smile dawns on her face. “Or could we?” 

You hesitate but Katie presses on.

“I bet he’d forget all about Slughorn if you told him we were having a party.”

“You really think Cormac would miss a chance to cosy up to old Sluggy?”

When the two of you make it to the drinks table, she leans in conspiratorially close, lowering her voice just enough to be heard over the noise. “What I mean is, maybe he’d ditch Slughorn’s Party if you asked him to.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” you dismiss the idea quickly, not quite meeting her eyes. “If Cormac was interested in going to a party with me, he’d have asked me to Slughorn’s. I shouldn’t have to plan my own just to - ”

To what? 

Go out with him?

You cut yourself off, but Katie’s sharp eyes catch yours. The noise of the party swells around you, enough to disguise her prying.

“What’s going on with you two, anyway?”

The question catches you off guard. Truthfully, nothing is going on between you and Cormac McLaggen. 

Well, not nothing on your part.

Even if you disregarded the way your eyes sought out Cormac’s reaction whenever you styled your hair differently, or how you sometimes overanalysed his extra-tight friendly hugs that lingered a bit too long, there was no denying you were - at the very least - best friends.

And that was the problem. You were friends. Nothing more. No matter how much you wanted it to be otherwise.

In the run-up to the Yule Ball two years ago, you overheard Cormac firmly assuring Oliver Wood that he did not find you attractive. Like, at all. 

You remember you were waiting on Katie finishing Quidditch practice in the courtyard, sitting behind the fountain in your usual meeting spot when you heard Oliver and Cormac at the other side of the fountain talking about the Gryffindor Team. You didn’t even lift your head from doodling on some parchment - the last thing you wanted to do was be dragged into a conversation about Quidditch.

Then the conversation drifted, from tactics to Quidditch team succession planning when Oliver left Hogwarts the following year and then, your ears pricked up when they started talking about the Yule Ball.

“I can put in a good word with Angelina about making you Keeper next year if you do me a solid,” Oliver said before lowering his voice. “Think you could ask if your mate is interested in going to the Yule Ball with me?” Oliver had asked. Your peacock feather quill paused as you sat up straight and held your breath.

There was a pause. 

“Yeah, I’m sure Katie would be up for that,” Cormac said eventually, his voice steady in reply.

“Not Katie. Team dynamics would get messy,” he said seriously. “The other one. Sweetie or something.”

The other one. Cormac had two best friends. 

That could only mean you.

“Oh,” Another pause, shorter this time, like Cormac was searching for the right words. “Are you sure you want to go with Sweet?”

The way Cormac said your nickname so incredulously made your stomach drop. 

“I’m not stepping on your toes, am I?” laughed Oliver.

You leaned forward discreetly, peering around the side of the fountain to see Cormac shifting uncomfortably as he deliberated on his next words.

“No, nothing like that. She’s… alright, I guess. Decent looking. But, not really my type. She’s kind of annoying, y’know? Pretty full of herself. A bit of an airhead, actually.”

You remember feeling a sting of embarrassment, sharp enough to make your eyes water as Cormac listed off all your supposed shortcomings. But you blinked it away, hurriedly gathering your things and forgetting your plans to meet Katie before they could notice you had been there the whole time.

At the time it hurt so badly. Because back then you had such a thing for him. How couldn’t you? Cormac McLaggen was the quintessential golden boy - tall, handsome, athletic - exactly your type on paper. Even if you weren’t his, apparently. And not only did he not want to date you, but he actually found the idea so repulsive that he was trying to put Oliver off you too.

In the end, Cormac’s disapproval didn’t deter Oliver. Even though Cormac reneged on his promise and never mentioned that Oliver was interested in you, Oliver still asked you to the Yule Ball without Cormac’s intervention. And you said yes, relieved that at least Cormac’s poor recommendation hadn’t dissuaded him. In fact, you got on so well at the Yule Ball, that you dated for a few months. Until he dumped you when he left school. But, you supposed, that was boys for you.

And it affected you. Between Cormac McLaggen’s lukewarm feelings towards you and Oliver Wood dumping you, you swore off the idea of dating anyone. 

It was easy to forget about Oliver when he left school. You gradually became friendly with Cormac again - you might even call him your best friend, aside from Katie, of course.

But you always kept your guard up around boys, never quite forgetting the sting of either incident.

“So, you wouldn’t go to Slughorn’s Christmas Party if he asked you?” Katie probes, bringing you back to the present.

Even though you trust Katie more than anyone, you’ve never told her about your feelings for Cormac or the utterly humiliating reason that you’ve never pursued them.

He’s just not into you. 

“We’re friends. That’s all. And that’s the end of this conversation.”

Katie sighs. “Okay, okay, I get it.” She spins around to the empty drinks table. “How have we gone through six crates of butterbeer already?” She groans. “Do you wanna come to the kitchens and get more?”

“I’ll go, you stay here,” you say and she immediately begins protesting but you ignore her. “Listen, this is a party for your team. You should stay.”

She hesitates before spotting Cormac across the room.

“Why don’t you go to the kitchens with -”

“If you mention Cormac one more time, I’ll lose my mind,” you warn her. “I can handle a trip to the kitchens alone. I won’t be long.”

Katie laughs, holding her hands up in mock surrender. 

“Okay, Sweet. I don’t know what’s got you so sour.”

You roll your eyes and ignore her comment. As you walk towards the portrait hole, you glance at Cormac and realise he’s already looking at you. You pretend not to notice like you’re scanning the room for someone else, before disappearing through the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, as you walk back up towards Gryffindor tower, a few crates of butterbeer (that the house elves were extremely eager to bestow upon you) clink behind as they follow you, levitating in the air.

The cool, empty castle offers little comfort. You left the Common Room to clear your head, but all you’ve found since you left the kitchens are your own thoughts, swirling endlessly as you walk.

If Cormac wanted to ask you to Slughorn’s party, he would have done it by now. You’re not getting your hopes up again. And besides, why would he need to wait for a party to ask you out? If his feelings for you had changed since the Yule Ball, he could have told you at any point. 

She’s kind of annoying, y’know? Pretty full of herself. A bit of an airhead, actually.

Harsh criticism. Not entirely untrue. It’s not like you’re clever. And sure, you take pride in your appearance, but until you heard him say that, you didn’t think it bothered anyone. Especially not him. If you had to criticise Cormac, you’d probably say he was full of himself too. And as far as intelligence goes, it’s not like he’s the quickest broom in the shed either.

As you turn it over, replaying scenarios in your head that you haven’t revisited in a long time  - most notably, ones where Cormac didn’t talk badly about you behind your back - you walk straight into someone hunched over their knees at the bottom of the spiral staircase.

“Oh, sorry! Wait - Hermione?” you ask. The bushy-haired sixth-year looks up and hastily wipes her eyes. “Are you okay? Where’s Harry?”

Hermione swallows hard and nods, though her red-rimmed eyes betray her. “I told him to go back to the party. There’s no reason for both of us to miss it. I’m fine. Really. It’s silly.”

“You don’t look fine,” you say gently, sitting down beside her on the cold stone steps. After a pause, you add, “I saw Ron and Lavender.”

Hermione’s breath hitches, and she quickly looks away, blinking back tears. “I—I feel so ridiculous. I already asked him to Slughorn’s party, and now he’s… I should have known.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re not the ridiculous one here. Honestly, I think these stupid formal events should be banned.”

Hermione lets out a half-laugh, half-sob - a wet, spluttering sound - but you catch the faintest glimmer of a smile, and you feel a small surge of relief. At least you’ve distracted her for a moment.

“I’m serious,�� you insist, leaning back against the wall. “They’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

Hermione sniffles, wiping at her eyes again. “Maybe. But it doesn’t make me feel any less foolish.”

“It’s not foolish,” you say firmly, the butterbeer crates you were levitating now drifting to the ground beside you. “And to tell you the truth, I know exactly how it feels to have your heart broken at one of these things.”

She looks up at you, her eyes wide with surprise. “You do?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to your own past. “Yep. And besides, Hermione, you’ve handled worse than this. You stared down Umbridge, for Merlin’s sake. This? This is nothing compared to her.”

Hermione lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “It doesn’t feel like nothing,” she says quietly. “In fact, it feels… it feels worse.”

“I know,” you admit softly. “And I know it probably feels like you’ll never get over it. Like it’ll never stop hurting. But trust me - if I can get through it, you can too.”

She looks at you earnestly, her brow furrowing. “How?” she asks, her voice small but full of curiosity. “How did you get over it?”

The answer isn’t easy, and the truth is harder still. Convincing others - and yourself - that you’re perfectly fine, even when you’re not, is something you unfortunately have experience with.

You push yourself to your feet, brushing off your skirt and forcing a small smile. “By acting completely unbothered,” you say, trying to sound casual, even though the irony stings. After all, here you are, still trying to bury your feelings for Cormac McLaggen.

“We’re gonna go back to the Common Room and make it look like you don’t have a care in the world,” you say as you extend a hand to help her to her feet which she accepts. “And tomorrow we’ll find someone else for you to go to Slughorn’s party with. Someone better than Ron Weasley.”

“Who?”

Perhaps this is your chance to help Hermione and bury your feelings for Cormac in one fell swoop. Maybe, just maybe, if she went to Slughorn’s party with him, it’d help you finally put Cormac - and the lingering ‘what could have been’ - behind you too. 

If he was going out with someone else, you could draw a line under all this and move on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following Monday, Hogwarts students arrive in the Great Hall to find a winter wonderland. A whirlwind of snowflakes dances over the enchanted ceiling past icicle-adorned rafters. Enormous Christmas trees - decked in baubles the size of bludgers - flank the room. The usual breakfast smells of toast, bacon, and pumpkin juice mix with the scent of pine and cinnamon, giving everything a festive buzz.

But Cormac barely notices any of it.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Cormac stabs the fried egg on his plate, watching it ooze onto the rest of his breakfast like it might help him decide how to do what he was about to do next. Oliver Wood used to joke that Cormac had the appetite of a Graphorn, but lately, he hasn’t been feeling hungry. His mind is completely elsewhere.

He’s going to ask you. To Slughorn’s Party. Today.

You and Cormac have History of Magic classes together on Monday afternoons, just the two of you away from the rest of your friends. A rare moment alone. You’re always surrounded by people - constantly laughing, flipping your hair in a way that makes his insides flip, and you seem completely oblivious to how nervous he’s become around you lately.

“Can you stop murdering that egg?” asks Katie, jolting him out of his daze and glancing at his half-destroyed breakfast. “It’s making me queasy. That’s the last thing I need before we feed raw meat to Thestrals.”

“Sorry,” mutters Cormac, setting his fork down, though the uneasy knot in his stomach isn’t going anywhere.

Katie studies him for a second. “What’s up with you? You’ve usually asked me if Ron’s playing worse than you at least three times before the bell rings.” She’s grinning, but Cormac just shrugs.

“It’s not that,” he mumbles.

Katie raises an eyebrow. “Then what?”

Before he can answer, you appear, slipping onto the bench beside him with Hermione Granger in tow. You’re wearing a bright red and gold bow with your hair in that half-up, half-down style that he knows takes you forever to do. It’s probably why you’re late - as usual.

“Morning!” you chirp, grabbing a piece of toast off his plate without asking, your fingers brushing his for a second. The contact sends a jolt through him, but you’re completely unaware. “What’s with you two?” you ask, noticing the odd expressions on their faces. “You look like you’ve seen a Dementor.”

“Not Dementors,” blurts Cormac, the excuse coming easily, thanks to Katie’s reminder. “Thestrals.”

“Ugh,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “Rather you than me. Are you doing the N.E.W.T. in Care of Magical Creatures, Hermione?”

Hermione shakes her head. “I’d have loved to but I had too many other subjects this year.”

“Yeah, right. You’re only saying that because you’re friends with Hagrid.” Hermione smiles sheepishly. “It wouldn’t be too bad if we got to learn about nice creatures -” you start but Katie cuts you off.

“Well, life isn’t all Puffskeins and Unicorns,” she says, pointing forked sausage at you. “The creatures we’re dealing with are much more interesting.”

“That’s just another way of saying ‘ugly’,” you laugh, tossing your hair over your shoulder. In the process, the bow at the crown of your head slips off and drops to the floor. You don’t even notice.

Cormac does.

“And it’s dangerous too,” you continue. “Remember when your poor arm was burned by those Blast-Ended Skrewts, Cormac?”

“Sweet, you dropped this,” he says, quickly leaning down to retrieve the bow before anyone else can.

You reach up, feeling the spot where the bow was. “Oh, thanks.”

“Let me,” Cormac offers, his heart pounding as he tries not to mess this up. He leans in close, and the noise of the Great Hall fades into white noise. It’s just the two of you, and all he can think about is how soft your hair feels between his fingers.

“It’s kind of tricky,” you murmur, glancing up at him.

“I’ve got it.”

“You sure?” you ask, looking up at him in a way that makes his stomach lurch again.

“Easy,” he says, more confidently now as he finishes clipping it into place. “Like putting an angel on top of a Christmas Tree.”

You laugh, and the sound makes his heart race all over again. He quickly turns back to the table, trying to pretend that wasn’t at all nerve-wracking. But Katie’s already watching, her shrewd look making it clear she hasn’t missed a thing.

“So,” Cormac says quickly, desperate to change the subject, “What’s everyone doing for the holidays? Assuming no one’s mad enough to stay here?”

“Nope,” says Hermione brightly. “I’m going home to visit my parents.”

“Yeah, same here,” says Katie. “If you ask me it can’t come soon enough.”

“Tell me about it. I can’t wait to go home. My Uncle’s been invited to Minister’s house for Christmas lunch and -”

“You’re going so you can suck up to Rufus Scrimgeor?” asks Katie.

“Well, it has its perks. But mostly it’s because I haven’t seen my Uncle in ages. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” says Cormac. And, he thinks, maybe his Uncle won’t tease him for being single again this year if he can convince you to go to Slughorn’s party with him.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. We’ve got more pressing things going on before Christmas, Cormac,” you say. “Or have you forgotten about Slughorn’s party?”

The fork he’s holding clatters onto his plate. “I… er, no, I haven’t forgotten,” he stammers, his face burning as he tries to sound casual.

“So… have you asked anyone yet?” 

Your voice is light, casual, but Cormac’s pulse quickens. Is this… actually happening? Well, it certainly makes things easier. He swallows, trying to steady himself. 

“Not yet,” he starts, the words feel unfamiliarly shaky. He’s normally so self-assured that he hardly recognises his own voice. But you’re already cutting him off, oblivious to his growing panic. 

“Well, I was thinking, if you’re not already going with someone…” You shift slightly, glancing between Hermione and Katie before landing back on him. His heart leaps. Are you about to ask him? But when you finish, your words douse his hopes like ice water. “...maybe you and Hermione could go together?”

“Yeah, I’d - wait - what?” Cormac’s voice cracks, the sound of his own disbelief ringing in his ears. He glances at you, searching for any hint of a joke, any sign that you’re teasing him - but you’re smiling, unaware of the storm you’ve just unleashed in his chest. Didn’t you realise how much nerve he had built up, how many times he had rehearsed this in his mind? 

You don’t even realise you’re wrecking him - it’s just another Monday morning to you. Meanwhile, he feels like he’s accidentally tumbled down one of the castle’s trick steps.

“Oh,” Hermione says, clearly flustered. “I don’t - er - I mean, that’s really not necessary,” she adds, casting an awkward glance at Cormac, her cheeks reddening slightly.

“No, listen,” you insist in a low voice, glancing at the end of the table where Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown are engaged in some more intense snogging. “It’s perfect. Neither of you is going with anyone, right?”

The bell rings and everyone in the hall starts moving, getting ready to leave for the first class of the day.

“It’s win-win. This would annoy Ron the most,” you say.

“What’s he got to do with this?” asks Cormac.

“Long story short, Ron’s ditched Hermione for Lavender. And since you were so clearly better than him at Quidditch tryouts, I thought if she went with you it would piss him off.”

Cormac pauses, momentarily stunned. “...You thought I was better than him?”

“Well, yeah. Obviously. The only reason you weren’t picked is because of that last penalty. It was like you were confunded or something”

There’s a thud as Hermione unexpectedly knocks her bag from her seat and it spills open.

“Really?” asks Cormac as you both get off the bench to crouch on the floor and help Hermione pick up her things. 

“Yeah, everyone knows that you’re much more talented at - wait, Hermione are you okay?”

The two of you look at Hermione when you notice she’s turned white as a sheet.

“I’m fine,” she squeaks. 

“You sure?” you ask and reach out to grab a fallen book. You accidentally touch Cormac’s hand as he reaches for it too and the touch sends another jolt through him. “And it works out for you too, Cormac,” you continue. “Maybe if Ron is distracted by the two of you going out, he’ll play badly enough to get kicked off the team.”

Katie tuts but Cormac has to admit that you’ve got a point. But he can’t put his feelings for you aside because of Quidditch. Not again. Not after the Yule Ball fiasco.

You press the book into Hermione’s hands. “Look, just think about it, alright? I’ve got to go - I’m gonna be late for Muggle Studies.”

“I’m going that way too,” says Hermione quickly, stuffing her book into her bag and not looking at Cormac. 

And so, with a swish of red and gold, you and Hermione leave Cormac feeling like he’s just been hit by a bludger,

It wasn’t as if Hermione wasn’t good-looking. Everyone knew she was smart, pretty - she even used to date Viktor Krum. But she wasn’t… well, you. 

So why couldn’t he just say it? 

He walks beside Katie, silently replaying what he should have said in his head, so clearly as if watching it through omnioculars.

“Cormac, do you have a date for Slughorn’s party?”

“Well, actually, I was thinking about asking you.”

He avoids Katie’s gaze, instead busying himself with pulling on a scarf and hat, bracing himself for the freezing cold of the castle grounds. 

Feeding Thestrals feels like a much less daunting endeavour than unpicking this mess he’s gotten himself into. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, the Gryffindor Common Room is almost deserted. It’s well past midnight, and the only sounds are the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of turning pages. As Seventh Year N.E.W.T. students, you, Cormac, and Katie have become accustomed to being the last ones awake, studying long after everyone else has gone to bed. When the clock chimes one, even Hermione bids you all goodnight before heading upstairs to her dormitory.

“So… any thoughts about my idea earlier?” you ask, trying to sound suitably impartial, and not at all conscious of the way you and Cormac keep sinking towards each other on the plush sofa and brushing arms. “You know, going to Slughorn’s with Hermione on Saturday?”

Cormac glances at the staircase leading up to the girl’s dormitory. “I dunno…”

Katie says nothing as the grandfather clock ticks ominously. Instead, she and Cormac exchange a look - one that you can’t quite decipher.

“Well, I think you’d be a good match,” you say, just to break the awkward silence.

“Yeah, well, Hermione’s not really who you want to go with, is she Cormac?” 

Your eyes fly up, looking between them.

Cormac shifts in his seat, eyes on his copy of A History of Magic. "She’s nice enough."

"That’s not what I asked," Katie presses.

Cormac looks at her seriously. “Stop.”

Katie shrugs, leans back in her armchair and flips through her book.

So, Cormac has someone else in mind for Slughorn’s Party. And he feels comfortable enough to make Katie privy to it. But not you. 

Great. 

So not only does he not fancy you, he doesn’t even trust you enough to confide in. And you thought you were best friends.

For some reason, that hurts almost as much as when you overheard him telling Oliver Wood that he wasn’t interested in you.

You don’t know what to say anymore, so you look down at your book again. 

It doesn’t take long for the words in A History of Magic to blur together on the page, as you read and reread the same passage, trying to remember the names of the loyalists from the 19th-century goblin rebellion. The plush velvet of the sofa feels impossibly soft and warm, and the heat from the fire seeps into your bones, lulling you into a deep, drowsy comfort. Your eyes droop heavily as you sink deeper into the cushions, your body slowly surrendering to exhaustion.

You lazily glance at Cormac’s open textbook, hoping he’s made better progress. He’s supposed to be reading the same chapter, but instead, he and Katie are talking softly about their holiday plans. Katie is debating asking her parents for a new pair of gloves after snagging hers during Care of Magical Creatures. Cormac is once again trying to brag about his Uncle taking him to the Minister for Magic’s house on Christmas Eve without sounding like he’s bragging. 

The sounds of your two best friends in quiet earnestness make you feel safe and comfortable - so comfortable that you don’t even realise you’ve dozed off, leaning on Cormac’s shoulder. 

That is until Katie closes her book with a loud snap.

“Right, this is useless. I’m heading to bed,” she declares.

Her voice startles you slightly, but you’re too tired to fully wake. You consider opening your eyes and lifting your head but it feels like too much effort. 

Five more minutes, you think. Just five more minutes in this comfortable position and you’ll make the long journey up the winding staircase to bed.

“I’ll go to bed soon,” Cormac says, his voice lower now, quieter. “I’m still reading. And I don’t want to wake Sweet”

You’re not entirely asleep, but not fully awake either - just hovering in that cosy in-between. His voice rumbles softly in his chest and the warmth of his shoulder feels solid, familiar. You could stay like this forever.

Your eyes remain closed, and you feel yourself falling asleep again listening to the sound of the merrily cracking fireplace and Katie’s footsteps retreating up the carpeted stairs. 

And then you feel a small shift. 

Cormac turns his head, pressing his lips against the top of your head and inhaling deeply, somewhere between kissing you gently and breathing you in. 

Your eyes flutter open, the haze of sleep fading as you realise what’s just happened. 

Did he just… kiss you? 

You look up. Cormac freezes as your tired eyes meet his alarmed, green ones. He opens his mouth - maybe to apologise - but whatever he was about to say disapparates when you look from his eyes, to his parted lips then back to his eyes again. 

He just stares at you, his breath held, searching your face for some kind of response.

You don’t say anything. 

For a second you’re not sure what to do. 

But then you just give the tiniest nod as your heart thuds in your chest.

He leans in, his breath is warm on your face. The clean, woody scent of his aftershave tingles your senses - it’s even better than when it lingered on his borrowed jumper. You close your eyes as he moves tentatively towards you. 

Then the thundering of footsteps as Katie runs back downstairs makes the two of you break apart hastily.

“Forgot my quill,” she announces. “Oh, are you coming up to bed, then?”

You swallow, your heart hammering. “Yeah,” you say, fixing your skirt and getting to your feet. “Sorry, must’ve dozed off.” You hastily grab your book,

“Yeah, same,” Cormac says, his voice strained. He clears his throat, gathering his things in a flurry of movement. “I think I must have too. For a couple of seconds.”

You glance at him but he doesn’t look at you as he gathers his things, his focus entirely on shoving them into his bag. 

You follow Katie up the stairs, your heart still racing as you try to make sense of what just happened. But did it happen? Or were you (like you’ve done more times than you’d ever admit) dreaming about Cormac?

Soon after, you lie in the dark, staring at the hangings of your four-poster bed.

Cormac said he thought he had fallen asleep. You had been so drowsy that now you couldn’t be sure if he had actually kissed the top of your head. Maybe he just rested his head on yours? Or maybe you dreamt it, woke up and immediately tried to kiss him. 

It’s a mortifying thought - that one minute Cormac had been asleep and the next he had woken up to find you practically ready to pounce on him. 

No wonder he looked like a deer caught in the wandlight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the boy’s dormitory, Cormac has similar thoughts.

You were asleep. And you caught him smelling your hair. Kissing the top of your head. Now that he’s removed from the situation, he cringes - hard, realising that it was extremely weird. 

Together with Katie’s obnoxious hinting that he really wanted to go to Slughorn’s party with you must have made you uncomfortable. Because you didn’t even look at him. So either your feelings towards him are so platonic that you hadn’t realised he was interested in you or you were choosing to ignore Katie’s comments altogether.

But he swears there had been a moment. A split second downstairs when your eyes met his, and he really thought you wanted him to kiss you. He can still feel your fingers brushing his chest, how you looked at him like you were waiting for him to close the gap between you.

And he almost had. 

Almost.

Then Katie had barged in, and you’d jumped away like you couldn’t get far enough, fast enough. Like you’d realised how ridiculous it was - how ridiculous he was.

He clenches his jaw, turning over in bed. You were probably horrified. 

He groans, burying his face in his pillow.

There was a moment, wasn’t there? 

Maybe he’d imagined how you looked at him. Maybe the exhaustion from studying had gotten to him, and now, his mind was just playing tricks on him.

But then again… maybe it hadn’t.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spent the majority of the rest of the week avoiding Cormac. 

You’ve even been staying in the library with Hermione every night just to avoid Katie after she kept asking pointed questions about what happened after she left the Gryffindor Common Room the other night. Hermione is glad of the company - over the past few days, you’ve been talking a lot. Mostly to keep her mind off of Ron Weasley. And without her realising it, it’s been a great help in stopping your mind wandering to Cormac McLaggen.

Being surrounded by dusty books and writing an essay about plug sockets for Muggle Studies, isn’t exactly conducive to imagining yourself back in the Gryffindor Common Room, cuddled up with Cormac, seeing his face inches from yours, wondering whether or not he was about to kiss you.

But now it’s Saturday morning and tonight is the night you’ve been trying not to think about: Slughorn’s Party. 

You’re going to go to Hogsmeade to take your mind off of things. It’s one of your favourite places in the world - especially this time of year. Steamy pub windows, cobblestone streets dusted in white, smugly ordering Firewhisky in front of younger pupils. 

It’s just what you need to distract you from Cormac.

At least he’s not coming with you. Studying, he said. Although you think he might just be as keen to avoid you as you are to avoid him

But there’s no avoiding Katie forever, you think, as you and Hermione walk into the Great Hall for breakfast. As if reading your mind, Katie, who is already almost finished breakfast, waves you over and you have no choice but to sit with her and a few of the sixth years.

“Wait - are you sure you want to sit here?” you ask Hermione under your breath, spotting Ron and Lavender enthusiastically entwined just a few spaces away.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve got a plan. Just like you said.”

Well, at least your advice is working for someone.

“Morning!” you say brightly, sitting on Katie’s left-hand side, across from Harry Potter and Parvati Patil. At least in front of a group, you should be safe from her interrogations about Cormac.

"Hi, Parvati!" says Hermione, ignoring Ron and Lavender completely. "Are you going to Slughorn's party tonight?"

You help yourself to some cornflakes and as Parvati passes you the milk, she frowns.

"No invite," says Parvati, gloomily. "I'd love to go, though, it sounds like it's going to be really good... You're going, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm meeting Cormac at eight, and we're -"

The jug slips from your hand, milk spilling everywhere. It splashes onto the table, drenching your skirt and soaking your tights. There’s a loud, wet sound as Ron, startled, pulls away from Lavender for a moment. 

"- we're going up to the party together."

Throughout all your nights studying together this week, Hermione had not shared that detail with you. 

You stare down at the mess, your heart pounding as if someone just pulled the rug out from under you.

"Oh, flipping heck,” you mutter, feeling the cold, wet fabric cling to your legs. 

Katie quickly vanishes the milk with a flick of her wand and hands you a napkin.

“No need to start throwing f-bombs - it’s only spilled milk” she jokes, taking the heat off of you but her expression is unusually careful as she watches you. You force a tight smile, but your heart is still thudding too fast, a mix of shock and something else twisting in your chest.

"Cormac?" asks Parvati. "Cormac McLaggen, you mean?"

Even though this was your plan all along, you never expected that just hearing his name would sting.

"That's right," says Hermione happily. "The one who almost” - she puts a great deal of emphasis on the word - "became Gryffindor Keeper."

"Are you going out with him, then?" says Parvati, wide-eyed.

Hermione giggles - a sound that cuts right through you. "Oh - yes - didn't you know?" 

A lead weight sinks to the pit of your stomach.

"No!" says Parvati, looking positively agog at this piece of gossip. "Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don't you? First Krum, then McLaggen..."

"I like really good Quidditch players," Hermione corrects her, still smiling. 

It’s too much. You think of Cormac and his stupid Quidditch jumper. Hermione wearing it at the game instead of you. Then you feel bad for feeling bad about them being together when it was your idea in the first place. Guilt makes the knot in your stomach tighten painfully, and you push your cereal away, the sight of food suddenly nauseating. 

“You alright?” asks Katie quietly, leaning towards you.

You nod stiffly, though your throat feels tight. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’d just better change before we go,” you sigh. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“You’re definitely still coming, right?” Katie asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she can sense you’re having second thoughts about going to Hogsmeade.

You hesitate. The idea of going upstairs, burying your face in a pillow, and screaming into it for the next several hours suddenly seems more appealing than pretending you’re okay in Hogsmeade. "I don’t know..."

“No, please, you have to come,” implores Hermione, not realising it’s her declaration that has you wanting to retreat upstairs until the end of term.

“Where are you going?” asks Harry, glancing at Ron and Lavender who have once again resumed their public display of affection, as if he’d rather be anywhere else but in their presence.

“We’re going to Hogsmeade. The three of us. Oh, and Cormac, obviously,” says Hermione loudly and for a split second you see the back of Ron’s head pausing.

Harry gets to his feet quickly. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“The more the merrier,” Katie tells him before adding to you in a low voice, “We’ll wait in the courtyard - I think my breakfast might make another appearance if I stay around Ron and Lavender much longer.”

This is good, you tell yourself, getting up from the table and following them a few steps behind. This is what you wanted. You told yourself you had to get over Cormac. And now he’s going out with Hermione. Just like you suggested. Your plan is working. This is good.

But it doesn’t feel good. It feels awful.

As you trudge up the stairs to the common room, you find yourself repeating the same mantra. 

This is good. This is what you wanted.

But the more you repeat it, the hollower it sounds.

By the time you come back downstairs to the courtyard, Harry, Hermione and Katie are having a snowball fight. It’s in full swing. And in the midst of it all, Cormac is there. Of course, Cormac is there. Hermione said he would be, didn’t she? And she should know. She’s his girlfriend, now. Apparently.

Harry fires a well-aimed snowball at Cormac but he dodges it.

“I told you, Potter - lightning quick reflexes!” Cormac shouts, his voice brimming with exhilaration. There’s something about the way his laughter fills the air that stirs something inside you that you’ve been trying to bury all week.

Harry launches another snowball, and Cormac, in an obnoxious display of skill, catches it mid-air and flings it back, hitting Harry squarely in the face.

“And the crowd goes wild!” cheers Cormac before chanting his own name. “McLaggen! McLaggen! McLaggen! McLagg - oh. Hi.”

He stops when he sees you. Like he wasn’t expecting to see you here either. 

“Don’t stop on my account,” you say, putting on a brave face. 

He grins at you “You joining in for once, then? I’ve never seen you throw a snowball in your life.”

“Well, maybe you’re about to,” you say, more threateningly than you intended, thinking that you’d quite like to smack him in the face for not telling you that he was going out with Hermione.

He takes a step toward you, misreading the challenge in your voice. “I’d love to see that,” he teases, scooping up a handful of snow and launching himself at you.

Before you can react, Cormac’s arm is around your waist, lifting you off the ground in one quick motion. The world spins as snow flurries around you, your shriek of protest escaping in the form of a half-laugh.

“Cormac!” you say, breathless. But your laughter dies almost instantly when reality sets in - Hermione is bent down, scooping up snow just a few feet away. His girlfriend is right there.

“Put me down,” you say, seriously this time, the joy draining from the moment. Your voice is firm, but not loud.

He stops immediately, setting you down gently, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s up?”

You step back, brushing the snow off your coat, swallowing the tight feeling in your chest. “I think you know.”

“Oh… sorry,” he says, now embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to cross a line or anything the other night -”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to keep your voice steady. “Don’t worry about it.” You give him a tight smile as laughter rings behind you, the others clearly not noticing or caring about your hushed conversation as their snowball fight continues. You turn away from him and call out to Katie and the others, “Are we going, then?”

The walk to Hogsmeade feels longer than usual. The others chat happily but the conversation is distant, and you keep your eyes on the snow-covered path. By the time you reach the village, the promise of a hot butterbeer should lift your spirits but it doesn’t. You feel disconnected like you’re watching everything through a fog.

“So,” Katie says, as you approach the The Three Broomsticks. “What made you come along, Cormac? I thought you were studying today?”

Cormac shrugs, but there’s a slight defensiveness in his voice. “Just something I had to do before the holidays.”

You wonder if it’s picking up a gift for Hermione. 

Katie raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips as her mind defaults to shopping too. “Determined to impress Scrimgeour, then?”

Cormac stiffens. “It’s not for Scrimgeour, Katie,” he says, his voice edged with frustration. “I just needed to pick something up.”

You don’t say anything, keeping your eyes on the ground as they continue their back-and-forth. All you can think about is how wrong everything feels.

When you reach The Three Broomsticks, Hermione opens the door, letting the warmth and chatter from inside spill out into the cold air as you go to file in behind her, Harry and Katie.

“Wait,” says Cormac, catching your arm before you can go in. “Can I have a word with you first?”

You hesitate, glancing down at his hand on your arm, then up at his face. There’s something in his expression - something hesitant, almost apologetic - that makes you pause. You really don’t want to talk but as usual, Katie butts in.

“We’ll meet you inside,” she says firmly, pulling the door closed in your face with a slam.

You have no choice but to follow him away from the door. Snow crunches beneath your boots as you walk, and the cold air stings your cheeks.

When you stop, Cormac turns to face you, running a hand through his hair, looking unsure of himself. “Look, I… I wanted to see if we were okay. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“You’ve been avoiding me too,” you challenge back.

Your breath fogs up in the cold air as you glance down at the snow, trying to collect yourself. It takes a moment for you to find the words, but they come out before you can stop them.

"I'm just... hurt, Cormac," you say, quieter than you'd planned. "You didn't even tell me you were going out with Hermione."

There’s a beat of silence as Cormac stares at you, his brow furrowing in deep confusion. He blinks, clearly caught off guard. “What? I’m not going out with Hermione.”

You meet his eyes, frowning. “I heard her say it. You're going to Slughorn’s party together.”

“I - yeah, I asked her last night because you told me to. But just as friends.” Cormac runs a hand through his hair again, exasperated. “But I’m not going out with Hermione - are you sure she told you that?”

“She told everyone at breakfast, loud and clear that -” 

“Everyone? Including Ron Weasley, you mean?” he asks, trying not to smirk.

Oh.

“She was… trying to make him jealous. Like I told her to.” You blink, trying to process what he's saying. “So… you’re not - I mean - she’s not your girlfriend?”

“No.”

You let out a shaky breath and he steps closer, closing the gap between you. His voice drops to barely a whisper, but it carries with it the force of something that’s been buried far too long.

“Do you really not see it? Do you really not know?” he says, his tone almost desperate now. “I’ll go with Hermione to Slughorn’s if you want me to. Hell, I’d go with Filch if it would make you happy. Because that’s all I want. To make you happy.”

“...Really?” You can hardly believe what you’re hearing. 

“Yeah.” He smiles sheepishly. “I thought you’d have worked out that’s why I asked her - since it was your idea.”

“Well… maybe you were right when you said I was an airhead,” you challenge. If you’re getting all of your confessions off of your chest, you might as well tell him you overheard this too.

“When did I ever say that?” Cormac asks, taken aback.

You hesitate, the memory is painful but clear. “You told Oliver that I was an airhead. And full of myself. And annoying. It was right before -”

Cormac groans in realisation and finishes the sentence for you. “- Before the Yule Ball.”

“Yep.” You nod, the hurt still lingering after all this time.

“So he told you all that, did he?”

“No… I overheard you. In the courtyard.”

“I -” he groans, looking so painfully guilty that you almost feel bad for calling him out. “I promise I didn’t mean it.”

“Cormac, you don’t have to make excuses -”

“It’s not an excuse.” He shakes his head. “Wood promised that Angelina would make me Keeper after he left school if I set the two of you up. And I wanted to make the team more than anything. Well - I thought I wanted to make the team more than anything.” He pauses, his green eyes locking onto yours. “But I was already planning on asking you to the Yule Ball. So I tried to have it both ways. I said that horrible stuff about you to put him off. And I never told you he was interested because… I was afraid you’d be interested back.”

“But none of it worked,” he continues, the regret in his voice cutting through the quiet. “He asked you anyway, and you said yes. And I never made the team in the end, so… it was all for nothing.”

You don’t really know what to say. How much time was wasted.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, his voice steady but filled with regret. “For saying that about you. You didn’t deserve it. I was so focused on trying to have everything - I didn’t stop to think about what was most important.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you say, your heart pounding. “And, for the record, I would have gone with you. To the Yule Ball. To Slughorn’s… any of it.” You look up at him, your gaze meeting his, and for the first time, it feels like you're both finally on the same page. 

Gently falling snow lands across your nose and cheeks as you look up at him. The space between you is almost nothing now. His hand reaches up and cups your face, his touch achingly gentle, almost reverent, as he brushes a wet snowflake from your cheekbone -

But then the door to The Three Broomsticks bangs open behind him, and Katie storms out, her face flushed and her hands gripping a package close to her chest.

“Katie?” you say, taken aback by her sudden appearance. “What’s going on?”

The door of the Three Broomsticks bursts open again. Harry and Hermione spill out looking frantic but Katie is already disappearing along the snow-covered street, the package clutched tightly in her arms.

“All she said was that she needs to deliver a package,” says Hermione, looking worried.

You and Cormac look at each other in alarm before you both sprint to catch up with her. You grab her arm. “Katie, what’s wrong?”

“Leave me alone!” she snaps, twisting to wrench herself free from your grip.

“Katie! What’s going on?” asks Cormac, running to her other side.

“Can you both just fuck off?”

“Woah, woah - what’s with you? And what is that? Who gave you it?”

“None of your business!”

You try to grab it. “Give it to me!”

The two of you struggle, you try to take the package from her and Cormac tries to restrain her.

Then all of a sudden, Katie lets out a scream so loud and so high that it almost pierces your eardrums.

Everything turns black as the snow-covered ground rushes up to meet you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You open your eyes a split second later in a sterile but comfortable room. Have you… apparated?

You try to sit up, but the world spins violently, your vision blurring as an antiseptic smell floods your senses.

“Woah - hold on, let me get Madam Pomfrey,” comes a familiar voice, soft but urgent.

Madam Pomfrey? 

You’re in the Hospital Wing. 

You blink hard, trying to focus, and slowly, Cormac’s face swims into view. He’s sitting at the edge of your bed, worry etched into every line of his features. His eyes, which normally gleam with a casual confidence, are shadowed with exhaustion.

Cormac.

He’s looking down the length of the hospital wing, scanning the empty beds for the matron, but when you touch his hand lightly, he turns back to you, his face softening with relief.

“Cormac, what happened?” You panic as you look at the empty bed next to you. “Where’s Katie? Is she here too? And that package? What was that thing?”

His brow furrows as he tries to find the right way to explain it all. "I promised I’d get Madam Pomfrey when you woke up," he says, glancing toward the door. “It was her only condition -”

“She can wait. Just tell me. Please.”

He studies your face for a moment, clearly weighing whether or not to tell you, but eventually, he sighs and moves closer, his voice low. “Katie... that package she was carrying - it was a cursed necklace. McGonagall thinks she was put under the Imperius Curse when she went to the bathroom. She wasn’t herself. You noticed it too.”

You swallow hard, the memory of Katie’s vacant eyes and her erratic behaviour flashing through your mind. “And when I tried to stop her?”

Cormac’s face darkens, his eyes flickering with something that looks dangerously close to fear. “The package split open. The necklace - it should have killed her. The curse was lethal.”

Your eyes widen, bile rising in your throat. “Lethal…”

He nods grimly. “The only reason she’s still alive is that it touched her through a tiny hole in her glove. Barely made contact with her skin, but even that was enough to put her in a bad way.”

Your blood turns cold, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy stone. “Where is she?” you whisper, dreading the answer. “Is she… is she alright?”

Cormac’s jaw clenches, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s at St. Mungo’s. They don’t know when she’ll wake up. But she’s alive.”

The room spins, this time from the sickening realisation of how close you were to losing her. Your mind races, fear wrapping its cold fingers around your heart.

“That curse was dark magic - whoever planted it knew exactly what they were doing.”

“Katie…” Your voice cracks as you press your palm to your forehead, struggling to process it. “If I hadn’t tried to take the package -”

“Hey - no.” Cormac’s voice is sharp but softens immediately. He moves closer, his hand squeezing yours. “This isn’t your fault. None of it. If anything it’s my fault -”

“Cormac…”

“No, listen. If I hadn’t asked to speak to you outside - I mean, when do you or Katie ever go to the bathroom alone? The person who put her under the Imperius Curse might not have tried if there were two of you there.”

“It’s not your fault either, Cormac. The only person to blame is whoever gave her that necklace.” You don’t even remember seeing the package split open. “But… I didn’t touch the necklace, did I? How come I’m in here?”

“Katie, er… punched you. Knocked you out cold.”

You hadn’t expected that. You find yourself lost for words, not quite able to believe what you’re hearing.

“She was under the Imperius Curse… not in her right state of mind,” continues Cormac, watching you carefully and you give him a small nod.

Silence stretches between you. The hospital wing feels eerily quiet - no bustling, no holiday cheer, just the faint sound of the fire crackling somewhere in the distance. No usual sounds of excitement of the last night of term. 

The last night of term.

You glance at the snowflakes drifting down, a sense of dread creeping over you. “Cormac… what time is it? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for Slughorn’s Party?” you ask, knowing that he’d hate to miss the opportunity to network with all the people Slughorn would want to introduce him to.

Cormac shifts a little closer. “Slughorn’s party was two nights ago.”

“Two?!”

“Yeah,” he says, sounding more casual than you’d have expected.

The realisation hits you like a punch to the gut.

“It’s… it’s Christmas Day, then?” you whisper, your voice hollow, the words barely registering as they leave your mouth. “We’ve missed the train.”

Cormac shrugs again, but the weariness in his eyes betrays him. “Yeah.” His tone is light, but you can see the exhaustion etched into his features, the slight slump of his usually easy posture. He’s trying to downplay it like it’s no big deal.

But then it hits you. You stare at him, your thoughts slowly clicking into place. “Did you end up going to -” You stop yourself, feeling like it’d be incredibly selfish to ask if he and Hermione went after all, considering everything that happened.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking away like he’s embarrassed. “Slughorn’s Party? Yeah… I didn’t go. I’ve been here.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be… I - I don’t know if you remember what we talked about in Hogsmeade but -”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as soon as you recall what he said to you. “I remember.”

“Well, I didn’t really want to go without you anyway.”

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. You don’t know what to say. How do you thank someone for missing something like that because of you? For staying here over the holidays, for caring, for... everything.

Just as you’re about to say something - anything - the doors to the Hospital Wing swing open.

Professor McGonagall strides in, her expression as serious as ever, but there’s a flicker of relief in her eyes when she sees you sitting up. 

Behind her, Madam Pomfrey hurries in and starts checking you over, pouring a large bottle of bright golden Invigoration Draught into a cup for you. At her instance, you drink it in one gulp - it’s sharp and spicy, and less gruesome than you’d braced yourself for. As the heat spreads through your chest, you feel a bit less confused. 

“Well, it’s good to see you awake,” McGonagall says briskly. “Miss Bell is receiving the best care at St. Mungo’s. The Healers are doing everything they can.”

Everything they can. It doesn’t feel like enough.

“Have we missed dinner, Professor?” asks Cormac, hopefully.

“I'm afraid so, Mr McLaggen,” says McGonagall, less sharply than you're used to her addressing him as she looks from his tired demeanour to his hand holding yours. She waves her wand and a tray of sandwiches is summoned on the table beside you. “I’ll notify your parents that you’re awake and both of you can take the Knight Bus home from Hogsmeade tonight.”

“Not tonight,” says Madam Pomfrey. “Another Invigoration Draught tomorrow morning. Then you can go home.” 

Your heart twists painfully, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Katie’s in St. Mungo’s, fighting for her life. Christmas has come and gone, and the world outside feels like it’s moving without you.

“Do I have to stay in the Hospital Wing tonight?” you ask, thinking you’d like nothing more than to sink into your four-poster bed upstairs.

Madam Pomfrey hesitates.

“Oh, please, Madam Pomfrey. It’s Christmas,” you pout. “I’ll come back here after breakfast tomorrow.”

“Before breakfast,” she says sternly. And once you agree, she and Professor McGonagall leave.

Cormac is still here, beside you, his hand lingering on yours, his presence steady and comforting despite everything. 

“When was the last time you slept?” you ask.

“I -” He pauses. “Not for a few days.”

You insist that he go back to Gryffindor Tower and he eventually agrees. Cormac grabs a couple of sandwiches, flashing you a tired but grateful smile. 

“See you at breakfast,” he says softly, and with a quick wave, he slips out of the Hospital Wing, leaving the room quiet and still.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dormitory is dark and eerily silent. Too silent. You’re used to the comforting background noise of sharing a room with four other girls - the soft rustle of sheets, the occasional sleepy murmur, the muffled creak of bedsprings. Tonight, without them, the emptiness feels vast and oppressive, as though the walls themselves are holding their breath.

You had expected Cormac to be in the Gryffindor Common Room when you got dressed and came upstairs. But he wasn’t there. He was in bed - no doubt shattered after sitting by your side in the hospital wing for two days straight. Two long, harrowing days where you were unconscious and he was busy worrying about both you and Katie.

Katie. The thought of her pulls at your chest like a lead weight. She’s at St Mungo’s. Alive but unresponsive. The cursed necklace nearly killed her. And while Madam Pomfrey has done her best to reassure you that she’s receiving the finest care, the image of Katie in St Mungo’s is enough to keep you awake.

It doesn't help that the Invigoration Draught has worked too well. You’re frustratingly alert. You’ve never noticed the grandfather clock much before but its ticking serves as a reminder of how much time is passing without you being able to sleep.

You wonder if Cormac is in the same predicament. He was tired but maybe everything that’s happened is keeping him up too. Cormac - of all people - stayed with you through it all. Missed Slughorn’s Party. Didn’t go home for Christmas - 

He didn’t go home for Christmas.

You sit bolt-upright in bed.

That means he didn’t go to the Minister for Magic’s Christmas lunch with his Uncle today. He missed it. It’s all he’s been talking about since November and he missed it.

All so he could stay here at Hogwarts. 

With you.

Something swells in your chest. A little guilt mixed with, well… overwhelming affection. Did you even thank him properly? You can’t remember - everything after the cursed necklace feels like a blur. You swing your legs out of bed, wincing at the icy chill of the stone floor against your bare feet.

You walk quietly towards the boy’s dormitory. The stone floor is freezing on your bare feet as you tiptoe. Though you’re not sure why you’re being quiet - you didn’t see anyone when you walked through the Common Room earlier. You think that you and Cormac might be the only two people in the whole of Gryffindor house that are here for the holidays.

The door to the Seventh-Year boys’ dormitory creaks faintly as you push it open. “Cormac?” you whisper into the darkness.

There’s a faint stir, followed by a groggy, half-asleep voice. “Hm?”

You cross the empty room, the cold gnawing at your skin, and perch on the edge of his bed. “Are you awake?”

“Wha?” he asks, blearily. 

The cold air makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “It’s me,” you say as you sit on the edge of the bed. 

Cormac sits up slightly, blinking at you in confusion, his hair sticking up in every direction. “What are you doing? This is the boys’ dormitory.” He pulls the duvet to his chest. You try not to notice that he’s not wearing a t-shirt. “Are - are you okay?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Cormac rubs his face, his tired brain catching up. “Katie is going to be fine,” he reassures you. “We’ll visit her as soon as we’re allowed.”

“I know,” you say. She’s getting the best care possible. And it’s not like either of you can do anything about it. “It’s not just Katie. Well, that’s part of it. But it’s that I realised… you missed Christmas lunch with your Uncle - and the Minister.”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s not fine. It’s all you’ve been talking about for weeks,” you insist, making a conscious effort to stop your teeth from chattering. “Missing your Uncle. Seeing Scrimgeour again. The fact you stayed here with me instead… that’s like, the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” 

Cormac fumbles for his wand on the bedside table, muttering “Lumos.” It lights the nearest lamp. You scoot closer to him on the edge of his bed. The soft glow of the lamp bathes the room in warm light, and he turns to look at you properly, his eyes - greener than you’d ever realised - serious and searching. 

“It was nothing. I told you already.”

“Well… I just wanted to say thank you -” you take a steadying breath, moving closer to him again. “- And… do this.”

Without thinking, you lean in, your heart racing. You close the distance between you and press your lips to his before you can second-guess it or get interrupted again.

Cormac pauses, completely caught off guard. You can feel the surprise in his stillness, but it lasts for barely a second before he responds with a surge of enthusiasm that almost takes your breath away. 

He shrugs his bedsheets aside, sitting up so he can deepen the kiss, his lips warm and eager against yours. There’s no hesitation now, just the full force of his want, crashing into you like a tidal wave.

It’s everything you wanted it to be. He’s a good kisser. Really good.

You try to put a lot of meaning into the kiss. That you’re grateful for him staying here at Hogwarts with you. That you forgive him for his stupid, blundering mistakes before the Yule Ball. 

But mostly, you try to tell him that you’ve been in love with him forever. Ever since you sat beside him on the Hogwarts Express on the first day of school.

You intended to give him a quick goodnight kiss and go back to your dormitory but the thought of leaving quickly leaves your mind when he parts his lips, tender and soft as Honeydukes caramel, as he explores the taste of your tongue. His hands wrap around your back, encouraging you closer, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. 

You were freezing a minute ago but his bare chest and shoulders are warm and he doesn’t seem to mind your cold hands traversing over his body. 

You need him. This is new territory. This is… you’ve never felt like this before. Well, maybe alone in your bed, but not with other people. You haven’t done anything more than kissing before.

But this is already more than just kissing, you think, as your tongue meets his again as he licks into your mouth. This is hot and heavy. You’re already starting to feel like you’re not close enough to him. 

And so does he. 

You feel a firm bulge pressing into your open legs and with a jolt of excitement, you realise he’s only wearing boxers. Everything below your waist throbs hot and sticky as his hips subtly twitch upwards, pressing against your pyjama shorts.

The ache between your legs is too unbearable to ignore. You adjust your hips and the friction against your bundle of nerves is white hot, almost dizzying. He responds to your movements by gripping onto your hips, his cock twitching against your pussy, just two thin pieces of material between you. You’re positively burning up now as he lets out a low groan into your mouth as you kiss him, before pulling back to suck on his bottom lip.

“Fuck…” you murmur, as you wriggle your hips impatiently. But when you say that he pulls back to look at you, his eyebrow raised. “What?” you ask.  

You don’t want him to stop - not now.

“I’ve just never heard you swear before,” he grins and your cheeks burn.

You bite your lip. “It just… slipped out.”

“I like it…” he says, eyes glancing over your chest as it rises and falls rapidly in time with your breathing. 

His fingers hook around the straps of your tank top, pausing just before they drop over your shoulders. The touch is featherlight like he’s waiting for something. Then his voice, low and careful, breaks through the charged silence.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod and then, realising what he’s just said, you blink. “You’re... asking?”

Cormac tilts his head slightly, frowning just a little like something about your surprise bothers him. “Of course I’m asking,” he says, his voice quieter now, but insistent, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You swallow, looking away for a moment, feeling still warmed by the way he’s watching you. Nobody’s bothered to ask you if they could touch you before. It’s…. well, it’s classic him. Considerate. Sure enough of himself that he genuinely would respect whatever answer you gave him. 

It makes you want him even more.

“You can - you can touch me. Wherever you want.”

You place your hands on top of his and help him slip your straps down, pulling your top down over your breasts.

“Fuck…” Cormac takes a deep, steadying breath. He tilts his head up and looks at the hangings above the bed.

“...Cormac?” you ask, uncertainly. “Are you -?”

“Yep,” he tells the hangings. “It’s just - I mean, I’ve just - thought about this moment a lot. And in no version did it involve me - y’know - making a mess of myself just from seeing your tits.”

A mischievous smile creeps across your lips. “Are you about to?”

“I’ll be fine - wha - oh, that is not helping.”

You slowly grind your hips against his and place his hands over your breasts. The underside of his cock twitches again against your now soaked pyjama shorts.

“I’ve thought about it a lot too,” you whisper, pressing your lips against his ear. “You can cum like this. If you want.” 

“That would be - ah, fuck - completely fucking embarrassing,” he says, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I think it’s hot.”

As soon as you say that, his shoulders relax and he buries his face between your tits with an agonised groan. Your hands tangle in his hair as you rock restlessly against him, moving your hips in search of the gnawing need between your legs. 

Cormac swirls his tongue, open-mouthed and panting against your skin. He pushes your tits together, toying with your nipples, pinching the hardened buds between his fingertips in a way that makes you let out an involuntary squeal.

“Too hard?” he asks, concerned, and you shake your head fervently.

“Do it again,” you whimper.

You grind yourself along his rock-hard bulge, feeling exceptionally greedy as Cormac toys with your tits. Pleasure swells in your abdomen. God, this feels good. He drinks up every noise you accidentally release, as you hover on the edge - wasn’t he the one who was supposed to be close?

Suddenly, Cormac grabs your hips, stopping you from moving and you almost cry out in protest. He breathes shakily, adjusting himself.

“Did you just…”

“Not yet,” he says, and before you know it he’s manoeuvring on top of you, flipping you on your back and splaying you out on his bedsheets. “I need to find out just how sweet you taste first.”

This is more like the Cormac you know. He’s been so reserved, so unlike himself around you for the past several weeks that you almost forgot how cocky he could get.

And wow, do you like it.

“Cormac,” you whisper, feeling yourself turn crimson now under his touch. 

He plants a trail of kisses along your collarbone, down your torso and pauses just below your navel. Cormac hooks his fingers in the waistband of your pyjama shorts and you arch your back so he can remove them and toss them onto the floor in a pathetic heap.

Cormac drags the pads of his fingertips across your flushed, slick pussy. “Is this… for me?” He gives you the widest, most gleeful grin you’ve ever seen plastered on his face as he laughs once, under his breath. “You’re so wet.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout - although from the way he’s lighting up, you can tell he likes the effect he’s having on you.

“You’ve got to admit, it is kind of funny. How everyone calls you Sweet because you’ve got this ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ thing going on but here you are… sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night.”

Your hips buck as he slides his fingers through your folds, dragging your arousal across your clit. An uncontrollable whine leaves your mouth as his fingers glide up and down, up and down. He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he looks you over. “I wonder what other swear words you know…”

“I - ah - I told you it just slipped out -” you stammer. Goosebumps break out along your arms - this time it’s nothing to do with the cold - you’re burning up, hearing him talk to you like this. But the more you blush, the more it spurs him on. 

Cormac gives you a lop-sided smirk as he drags gentle, lazy circles around your clit. “So… that kind of talk is just for me, right?” he asks. You wriggle again, opening yourself up wider, silently willing him to put his fingers inside you. 

“Yes,” you whimper. He’s got you wrapped around his finger - almost literally. You’ll say anything he wants to hear. Do anything - everything that he wants. Give him anything he asks. As long as he keeps touching you like this.

You make a soft, vulnerable sound in bliss, feeling yourself slowly falling apart at how he’s circling over that little bundle of nerves that makes your eyes fucking roll back. He hisses an inhale through his teeth, watching your reaction. 

And then suddenly, he’s pushing in and curling two thick fingers inside your eager, soaking wet pussy and hooking them tight against your g-spot.

“Oh.” Your hand flies blindly down to touch his face - just for something to feel - and his expression changes from a smug smile to stern concentration. 

Your thumb brushes along his cheekbone, grazing the rough stubble of his jaw. He tilts his head just enough to kiss your palm, the warmth of his lips lingering against your skin, sending a spark racing up your arm. 

Then his eyes find yours - those green eyes, darker now, pupils blown out with a burning intensity that knocks the breath from your lungs. The way he looks at you, unflinching, unrestrained, sends a rush of heat through you, making your heart pound and your pulse quicken. 

You almost cry out when Cormac lowers his head and his soft lips envelope your clit. You clench around his fingers and tense your stomach when his tongue swirls even hotter and more dextrous than his fingers.

“Mhmm,” he says, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh before looking up with a wicked grin. His chin is wet. “You are sweet.”

You bite your lip and let your head roll back as he resumes his gentle licking. You can hardly believe this is happening. You’re trembling as you try to suppress another squeal but it’s like he can read your mind - 

“It’s okay to make noise. Nobody’s here. You don’t need to hold back,” he says between sloppy sucking. You remind yourself, that you’ve been best friends for so long he can probably read the nuances of your body language.

“Ah - okay, okay. Fuck - Cormac,” is all you can manage.

“That’s my girl.”

Oh, fuck. Why did he have to call you that? Your pussy clenches tight, neediness swelling in waves in your abdomen.

And then you don’t expect the way his whole arm moves as he picks up pace. At first, you feel jostled, almost manhandled when his fingers don’t go in and out but instead curl into you with such intense pressure that you feel like you can’t keep up. It’s too fast. Too much. 

Until it suddenly isn’t. 

The flat of his tongue rubs against your clit in time with his fingers pressing against your g-spot. Blazing, white-hot heat twists tightly in your pelvic floor muscles. Your hand slides down to the juncture of muscle between his neck and his shoulder as you grip helplessly, feeling the relentless pressure of him stimulating that perfect spot deep inside you.

“Cormac,” you pant, as your walls twitch and tighten around those two fingers. “I’m - ha - that’s - yeah, there.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, sending vibrations across your clit. His eyes move back to your face. You convulse around your best friend’s fingers as he pulls you closer and closer to the edge. You’ve stopped wriggling, chasing your release - you don’t need to. Your whole body goes limp as you just let him drill inside you.

“Yes,” you say, biting your lip, your eyebrows knitting together, losing yourself in the mindless sensation. “Fuck, yesyesyesyes -”

He looks into your eyes while you plead for him as he pulls the orgasm from you. You clutch on his shoulder, feeling his hand working between your legs, pulling you higher and higher and - 

Fuck.

Everything plummets. 

White noise rings in your ears as your insides twist and release, sending agonising pleasure rippling through your whole body, more bright and explosive than anything you’ve felt before.

His hand slows down, dragging out the boiling hot aftershock, massaging your pussy until you’re a trembling mess.

At last, he slowly slips his fingers out from inside of you and lies next to you. 

Cormac can’t tear his eyes from you, watching the way your head falls back onto the pillow - his pillow - as you catch your breath, looking up at the velvet hangings above and raking your hands through your hair. 

You think you must lie there in stunned silence for a full minute before you realise he’s waiting on you to say something.

“What -” you swallow, your mouth feeling dry. “What time is the Knight Bus tomorrow?”

Cormac tilts his head, concerned. “After breakfast, I think. But, I mean… if you need space or something, then that’s fine -”

“No,” you turn your head on the pillow quickly. “No, nothing like that.”

You roll on top of him so that you’re straddling him again and lean down. Your hair tickles his cheek as you lean in close enough to see every detail of his face - the faint freckles across his nose, the shadow of stubble on his jaw, even the flutter of his lashes. Every inch of him feels so present.

“I’m trying to figure out how many times we can do that before McGonagall sends us home,” you smirk and relief crosses his face.

“I thought you were trying to see if there was any way you could leave earlier,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sincerity. 

You shake your head. “I want to stay here forever. I want -” You plant a kiss on his cheek and slip your hand between your bodies, your curious fingers lightly dancing over his hard cock through his boxers. “- I want you. So badly. You have no idea.”

“Pretty sure I have some idea how that feels.” Cormac reaches down to catch the waistband of his boxers with his thumbs and lets you pull out his cock. It’s just as gorgeous as the rest of him. You wrap your palm around him, feeling how warm and thick he is, and slowly jerk your wrist. His jaw tightens and he jerks his hips upwards to meet your soft, clenched fist. 

“That’s - fuck, that’s good -” he says, closing his eyes, his lips slightly parted. He looks so good like this, you think, as you watch him swallow thickly, neck muscles contracting.

You adjust yourself higher up his body so that you can kiss his exposed neck. As you keep working your wrist between your bodies the tip of his cock rests against your wet folds.

“Cormac,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly, “do you want to…?”

His eyes open, searching yours with quiet intensity. “Yeah,” he says softly like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your hand pauses stroking him, caught off guard by the steadiness of his answer. “You didn’t even let me finish the question.”

“I don’t need to,” he says, his voice gentle but certain. “If it’s you, the answer’s always yes.”

You can’t help it - the corners of your mouth twitch upward despite the nervous flutter in your chest and the fact that the tip of his leaking cock is pressing against your soaked entrance.

“Does it… do you know if it hurts?” you ask, your voice quieter now - hesitant.

Cormac tilts his head slightly, studying you, his brow furrowing - not in judgment, but in thought. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice honest but calm. “I’ve never - ” He pauses for a beat, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable. “I haven’t done this before either.”

Your eyes widen. “You haven’t?”

He shakes his head, his expression softening into something almost self-conscious. “Nope.”

“Really?” The word comes out before you can stop it, your voice tinged with disbelief. Somehow, you’d always imagined him as… well, more experienced. The fact that he isn’t, that this is just as new for him, feels oddly grounding.

“Yeah, really,” he says, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. His gaze remains fixed on yours, unwavering. “It’s not like I’ve never had the chance or anything… just none of them felt right.” 

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “And… this does?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah.” His lips twitch into a faint smile. “It’s always been you, Sweet. And if you want this too, then -”

“I do. Cormac.” You swallow, the truth spilling out before you can second-guess it. “Of course, I do. I’ve been in love with you since I was eleven years old.”

“So have I,” he says, his voice low but certain. “So there’s nothing to worry about,” he says softly, like a promise. “I’ve got you.”

For once, you don’t think, don’t question. You lift your hips back slightly, just enough for the head of his cock to part your folds. Cormac holds the base of his length, positioning himself so that you can balance your weight, one hand on his chest, the other on the bed.

You sink down, feeling pressure as his cock pushes through your entrance. You shut your eyes tight, expecting pain but you open them again when you feel two large hands caressing your hips.

“Still got you, baby.”

A deep heat blooms within you, sweeping through your body like a tide and leaving your thoughts in a hazy, breathless blur. You slide down further - so slick and hot between your legs that there’s no resistance besides the stretch of him filling you up. As you lower yourself, his reassurance becomes a dark, lustful groan and his thumbs press on your hipbones.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Fuck - that’s - yeah -”

The back of your thighs meet his hips as you bottom out and the sensation is all-consuming, a wildfire of longing that burns away reason. 

His cock presses up against every part of your insides in a way that your body has craved for so long while you tried to ignore it. Every smile he flashed you from across the room, every time you brushed past him as he held a door open - it always made something in your core lurch. And now as you feel those same muscles tighten you realise the extent of your primal want for him.

“It’s… it’s in,” you whisper and it feels almost redundant to say it when it’s so patently obvious but you’re trying to tell him and yourself that you’re okay. It hurts a little - but in a good way - like when your legs ache from climbing a long flight of stairs. Except you never feel fire igniting in your belly like this when you ascend the staircase of the Astronomy Tower.

“Yeah, I’m inside you,” he says breathlessly. Then his expression changes, something flickering in his eyes - an intense, unspoken longing that unfurls in the space between you. “I’m fucking inside you,” he says again, the words low and rough, tumbling from his lips like he’s surrendering to a need he can no longer contain. He thrusts upwards and you gasp breathlessly, it’s as though the world tilts on its axis. 

“You good?” he asks, grabbing firm fistfuls of your hips. You nod, your thoughts disapparating around the edges when his cock twitches inside you. “You feel perfect.”

You melt so fiercely under his compliment that you need to look away. But when you look down between your bodies and see him buried to the hilt inside you, you can see why he had to repeat himself. 

This is happening - it’s real and it’s actually happening and it’s everything you ever hoped. 

You lift your hips in slow, stuttered little jumps, experimenting with the way he feels inside you. Is this right? Are you good at this? Should you move more like this? But Cormac helps, his hands on your tentative hips aid your momentum as he decisively guides you forward and back and - oh. 

Now, this is right. 

You know for certain now, as his thick cock glides in and out of your sopping wet folds, your arousal dripping all over him, and you can’t tear your eyes away in an almost enchanted haze. You know you must feel right for him too because in almost rhythmic agreement, his cock pushes against that deep sensitive spot you need as you convulse around him.

“Oh, shit -” breathes Cormac. “Look at me, look at me.” 

With difficulty, your eyes pull up weakly, looking away from his cock driving into you and meeting his gaze. He’s so present and focused - like he’s searching for something. 

Cormac’s hand slides from your hip and his thumb finds your swollen clit. You gasp, realising only now how close you are to the edge. You curse and Cormac grins. This is the answer to the silent question he’d been searching for.

“Fuck -” you whine, your pussy clamping down hard around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck -”

“That’s it, baby. Tell me how good it is.”

“Mhm,” you huff as you pick up pace, bouncing against his lap, chasing every bit of friction he has to offer you. It all melds together, the way his cock fills you up, his wet thumb rubbing against your clit, his other hand roughly guiding you up and down on him. 

“Fuck - it’s good - s’good -” you try and keep focused on his gorgeous look of concentration as your floor muscles clamp down. “You’re so fucking good.” 

He closes his eyes and an agonised groan tumbles from his lips when you say that. 

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Yesyesyesyes,” you whimper, every syllable punctuated with you riding him. Your eyes roll back as everything winds tighter and tighter, your nerve endings alight and sparking pleasure through your body. 

“Fuck, say it again,” he growls, his hips jutting up to slap against the back of your thighs. 

You don’t even know when you say next. All you know is that whatever filthy words spill out, make Cormac laugh triumphantly through gritted teeth as your world shatters. 

He murmurs your name - your real name, not that nickname everyone calls you - as he rubs your clit and fucks you exactly where you need him to, throwing you towards raw pleasure. 

“Are you cumming again, baby?”

“Ah - uh-huh,” you choke and even that little moan in the affirmative is a struggle. 

Every unbridled bounce of your hips sends your mind reeling as your orgasm crashes down over you. Your pussy throbs and twitches around him, squeezing him hard as you ride out the beautiful wave.

Fuck.

It’s messy, it’s aching, it’s blurry, it’s debilitating. You can barely see straight.

You twitch from oversensitivity as Cormac fucks himself up and into you in search of his own high. His hips thrust erratically and his face contorts in pleasure and then suddenly he’s forcing your hips down onto him, and with a guttural moan, he’s cumming deep inside you, holding you in place even as you squirm and shake through the aftershock of your own ecstasy. 

Everything goes dark - you see actual stars behind your eyelids. Vaguely, you’re aware of Cormac tenderly manoeuvring you with strong, safe arms so that you’re lying at his side, your head resting on his chest. He pulls his duvet over you - it's cosy and smells like him. It's wonderful.

“You’re shaking - are you warm enough?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, feeling your eyes grow heavy as you try to keep them open. “Just tingly. It’s… it’s nice.”

Cormac tilts your chin up and he leans down to kiss you, slow and lazy. He’s soft and warm. You’re safe and pliant. His fingers tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and sweetly brush the curve of your jaw.

“Are you tired?” he asks.

“A little,” you say. It's an understatement. You're barely able to lift your eyelids to look at him. There’s something about being nestled here on his shoulder - like you were in front of the common room fire a few weeks ago - that just signals to your body that it’s secure and that you can relax fully. “You?”

“Yeah… I just don’t wanna fall asleep in case I’m already dreaming. I can’t believe this is real.”

“It’s real,” you sigh pleasantly, feeling his very real heartbeat in his chest as you snuggle in closer. The way he’s looking at you - like he’s seeing something precious - makes your chest ache. 

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he lies back on his pillow. “Because I don’t want this to end.”

You don’t want it to end either.

“I know you probably want to catch the Knight Bus tomorrow and see your family but -” he starts, hesitating slightly.

You cut him off gently. “We could stay here. For the holidays. If you want to.”

He closes his eyes, the softest smile curling his lips as his thumb brushes your shoulder. “Yeah,” he says, his voice steady now. “I want that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Gryffindor Common Room is a blazing display of gold and red. Laughter and cheering fill the room so loudly that you can barely hear yourself think as you weave through the crowd with two butterbeers in hand.

“Cheer up, Cormac,” you say, finding him on a plump armchair in the corner of the room. You hand him a butterbeer and sit on his lap. He pulls you close, his hand resting on the back of your thigh. “We won the cup, didn’t we?”

“I really thought this was going to be my year,” he grumbles. “I might just have to face it - maybe I’m not cut out to play Quidditch.”

“I think you’re brilliant,” you say, although your words are probably meaningless - you don’t know the first thing about Quidditch.

“Oh, come on. You were there - you watched me knock Potter out with a bludger in the last game.”

“Well, Katie was still in St Mungo’s, wasn’t she? You had other things on your mind.”

Cormac tuts, as if he’s annoyed at himself for being distracted by one of his best friends being in mortal peril.

“Besides,” you say, leaning in and pressing your mouth to his ear. “You have plenty of other talents. Ones that are more… useful than Quidditch.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, turning to give you a lopsided grin. His tone is low, teasing, but the heat in his eyes makes your pulse quicken. “Care to elaborate?” 

You don’t bother answering. Instead, you press your lips to his, letting the butterbeer bottle tilt precariously in your grip as his arms tighten around your waist. His hand slides a little higher up your thigh, the warmth of it sending sparks skittering down your spine. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, and suddenly it feels like the whole room could catch fire from how hot your skin feels against his.

“Alright, that’s enough of the Devil’s Snare impression” Katie’s voice interrupts, dry and sharp as she drops into the armchair beside yours, looking equal parts amused and exasperated.

You pull back, flustered, trying to regain a sliver of composure. Cormac shifts slightly, but his arm stays around your waist, not bothering to hide the grin on his face.

“Do you have to keep doing that where I can see? I’ve had enough trauma this year without adding that to the list,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry,” you grin sheepishly. 

“Don’t be,” Katie snorts. “Honestly, I prefer this to whatever you were doing before. It was unbearable. I mean, the pining - ” she shudders theatrically “- disgusting.” 

You laugh, but Cormac just raises his butterbeer in mock toast. “Thanks for your support. Truly heartwarming.”

Katie waves a hand dismissively, clearly unbothered. “Just get me my next butterbeer so I don’t need to fight through that crowd again, and we’ll call it even.”

Cormac reaches over without missing a beat, handing her his unopened bottle. “Here. You’ve earned it.”

She raises an eyebrow, suspicious. “Why, because I nearly got cursed to death and inadvertently set the two of you up?”

“No,” Cormac says dryly, though his lips twitch. “Because you’ve basically just won us the bloody Quidditch Cup.”

You raise your butterbeer in solidarity. “To Katie.”

“To me,” she says smugly, clinking her bottle with yours before taking a long sip.

The three of you settle into easy conversation, as easy and as natural as it’s always been.

Sitting here in the glow of victory, with Katie healthy and whole, and Cormac’s arm around your waist, you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Things are pretty sweet. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list (let me know if you want removed/changed at any point or for any reason - if you just do not want notifications or if your hyperfixation has changed - anything! I'll remove you no questions asked) @aweidlich @xxvelvetxxxx @Dinom @Mgurl @all-by-myself98 @navs-bhat @ivebeentrashsince2001 @intense-sneezing @countlambula @chiaraanatra @daisydark @stainedpomegranatelips @doodlebook14 @il0vebeingdelulu @evabellasworld @xyzstar @lolitstiana @senassn @marmie-noir @lipstickandloveletters

[theaudacitytowrite]

Stay Awake! - Part 1

Materlist

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

A/N: An attempt at a spooky fic:) This is based on a creepy story my siblings used to tell me when we were little and back then it scared the shit out of me. Whether it really is scary is debatable^^

Time wise it starts a day before Halloween.

Also, since I only started watching SPN (on S4 currently) I'm quite sure this might be a bit off timeline wise. For example I needed an animal for the story but I have no idea when/how long Mircale is around in the series.

warnings: dolls, cursing, implied smut, bad horror (Season 1-esque storyline), Canon? What's that?

Golden divider = new day

black dividers = new setting/some time has passed

word count: 5.891

Dean’s feet lazily dragged over the ground. He groaned and huffed, sometimes a yawn would leave his throat.

„Come on, big boy. Let’s try it here.” you dragged him behind you while holding his hand so he would actually follow you.

You stepped up to the bed and breakfast, a rustic little single-family house. Dean and you were in desperate need of a place to stay the night. You had just finished a gruelling hunt and were beyond exhausted. But so far you hadn’t had any luck. All the motels in the area were booked.

“We can just sleep in Baby,” Dean muttered groggily.

“So you can whine about your sore back for the next couple of days?” you looked over your shoulder to look at him with a raised brow, “No thanks.”

"I wanna go home! My feet hurt, my back aches already and I'm tired! We've been on our feet the past 3 days!" he whined, pouting like a little overtired child.

“I know, my feet hurt just as bad and I’ve been awake just as long as you, you little baby.” you teased, “And I want to go home, too, but I don’t think it would be a good idea to drive another 5 hours to get home, while you nor I can keep our eyes open.” Dean grumbled but seemed to follow you more willingly now as he heard your reasoning.

When you entered the B&B a foul smell made its way to your nose immediately. It was sweet yet sour at the same time. You were surrounded by weird-looking paintings, figurines, and a collection of creepy dolls. It was quite dusty and weirdly gloomy in the house, and something just didn't feel right.

"Since when are bed and breakfasts worse than motels?" Dean muttered into your ear as he tried to not touch anything while walking through the small, crammed foyer to head to the unoccupied front desk.

"I don't know. We rarely visit bed and breakfasts." you shrugged as you let your gaze wander through the odd room. Dean scrunched his nose and almost pressed himself against you as he followed you like a shadow.

"Something wrong?" you glanced at him with an amused look.

"Nah." he shook his head and took a step back, "Just hurry up and ring the bell, so we can leave again."

“Leave again? You don’t think they have any vacant rooms?” you chuckled, “You’re so pessimistic.”

“I hope they have no free rooms.” Dean huffed.

"We have to tell Sam about this cosy little B&B. He'll love it here!" you snickered as your eyes roamed over the décor.

"He sure would…" Dean pressed his lips together, trying to breathe as little as possible. He bumped into you when you suddenly halted your steps, your gaze fixed on the fireplace in the next room.

"Do you see that doll?" you pointed in the direction of the fireplace. On top of it sat a little wooden doll with a rancid-looking dress. What caught your attention was, besides her size of an actual baby, her fluent movements. The doll seemed to wave in your direction, a wide grin plastered on her face.

"You mean that spawn of hell that creepily waves at us?" Dean dryly asked.

“Mhm… unnerving.” you hummed, completely focused on the doll.

„Good evening!“ the warm voice of an elderly woman suddenly chimed up, making you and Dean jump. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to scare the two of you.”

“All good.” you chuckled, clutching your heart.

“How can I help the two of you?” the woman smiled endearingly.

“We were wondering if you still have a room available for one night. We tried every motel and hotel, but they’re all booked.”

“Yes, my dear. We still have enough rooms.” the woman quickly looked through her little notebook, “We got two with single beds and another free one with a double.”

“I wonder why…” Dean muttered next to you, earning a swift nudge from your elbow into his ribs.

“We would love to take the one with the double bed.” you smiled sweetly at the woman.

After checking in the old woman led you to your room. To your relief, the room itself was much brighter and less smelly than the foyer. And even the number of dolls was drastically lower and the décor was much more modern.

“Heh… weird.” Dean chuckled as he looked through the room.

“What?” you hummed as you rummaged through your bag.

“Isn’t that the doll that sat on the fireplace downstairs?” Dean inclined his head as he approached the doll that sat on an old commode.

“Maybe she got two?” you shrugged, heading into the bathroom to take a shower.

"Mhm." was Dean's only response as he inspected the doll. It seemed like there were no mechanics at all. Still, her motions were so fluent and lively. Dean carefully picked her up to not break her. He pulled away the crunchy feeling fabric as he searched for the battery pocket but couldn't find one, no matter where he looked.

"Must be some kind of solar thing," he murmured to himself and shrugged. He plucked down the little dress the doll was wearing when an idea popped into his mind, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips.

As you returned from the shower half an hour later and opened the door without suspecting anything bad, you jumped immediately.

“For fucks sake, Dean!” you growled as the doll sat in front of the bathroom door, smiling sympathetically at you as she waved. Dean meanwhile was giggling while lying on the bed, elated that he had scared you successfully.

“Got you!” he cackled triumphantly, making you roll your eyes at him.

“You're lucky I love you.” you grumbled.

“I know.” he smiled sweetly, before heading for a shower himself, pecking your cheek swiftly as he passed you. "Shouldn't have let your guard down..."

The two of you soon settled down in bed, overripe for a good night’s sleep. Dean was out almost immediately as his head hit the pillow. You on the other hand seemed not so lucky.

You lay wide awake in the bed, not knowing why. All you wanted to do was sleep. Maybe it was the unfamiliar surroundings, maybe it was the rest of the adrenaline from the hunt that still ran through your veins. And it didn’t help that Dean was felling trees right next to you. One day you’d smother him if he wouldn’t get that snore checked out.

You jumped slightly when there was a soft thud echoing through the room. You glanced at the clock that stood on the bedside table. A few minutes past 3a.m. You glanced at Dean who was still fast asleep, completely unbothered by the sound. He really was exhausted.

You sat up in the bed and scanned the room. You chuckled when you realised that your duffle bag had fallen from a chair onto the ground. You lay back down and sigh, trying to give sleep another try. You nuzzled against Dean who quickly encased you in a hug, pulling you against his chest. You hummed contently and finally managed to drift off to sleep.

The next morning you and Dean woke up early, quickly throwing everything into your bags before you zipped them up and quickly checked out.

The old woman wasn’t too thrilled that you declined her breakfast buffet which consisted of off-colour sausages and weirdly looking eggs. She was appeased when Dean and you at least took a bread roll each before saying your goodbyes and hurrying out of the smelly B&B.

As soon as Baby rounded the corner, you threw out the stale bread rolls in favour of stopping at a drive-in to get a quick breakfast that wouldn’t get stuck in your throat and take you out.

It was around noon when Dean and you finally arrived back at the bunker, and you quickly started to get your bags out of the car and restock the ammunition and the rest of your weapon arsenal. You'd had a lot to get done, unpacking your dirty clothes to get them washed and repacking the bags for the next hunt as soon as possible. This had been all you've been doing lately, hurrying from one case to another without getting a real break.

When you wandered into the bedroom and opened your duffle bag you almost fainted.

“DEAN! What the fuck!?” you screamed enraged.

“What?” Dean looked at you innocently as he entered your shared room.

“Don’t look at me all innocent!” you scolded him, “You know exactly what you did!”

“As much as I want to take the praise for it, …I don’t.” Dean dryly replied, smiling at you tight-lipped.

“Then please enlighten me how else this freakish thing appeared in my bag!” you pointed into your bag in which the doll from the B&B laid neatly on top of your belongings.

“Dunno.” Dean shrugged, “I swear, Y/N. I didn’t put it in there. It must’ve fallen over when we packed. I mean, I didn’t even touch your bag until you gave it to me to put it in the trunk.”

“Sure.” you glare at him, not believing a single word.

“I swear.” he chuckles, trying to get your good grace back by hugging you tightly from behind, peppering your cheeks with kisses.

“Don’t suck up now.” you giggle.

“But I gotta cheer you up.” he murmured.

“Then be a dear and throw it out. I’m not gonna touch that thing.” you muttered, looking at the doll in disdain.

“Sure thing, my love.” he gave you another peck on your cheek before unravelling his arms from your waist. He picked up the doll, holding it in front of his face. “Bye-bye, Y/N.” he tried to mimic a creepy voice as he walked backwards out of the room.

“You’re such a dork.” you chuckled, shaking your head and continuing to unpack.

It didn’t take long when you heard another shriek resound through the bunker. You quickly hurried to the source of the turmoil, coming to a halt in front of Sam’s room. You were met by Dean who was toppled over in laughter while Sam was sitting on the floor, chest heaving while the doll was sitting on his bed, smiling endearingly as she never ceased to wave.

“Dean, you’re an idiot.” you can’t help but giggle a little.

“I had to, darling.” Dean wipes away a tear he had shed from laughing so hard.

“Did you?!” Sam snarled, scrambling to get back to his feet.

“Oh come on, Sammy. T’was just a joke.” Dean grins triumphantly, shrugging innocently before patting his brother's back teasingly.

“You good, Sam?” you tried so hard to bite back a grin yourself. Sam cleared his throat and nodded.

“Now that I got the two of you here, we could talk about the agenda of the coming days.” Sam changed the topic, earning a groan from Dean.

“How about you let us come back and settle in first.” Dean huffed annoyed.

“Bobby called me repeatedly already. He needs us down at his house. He got a pressing case for us and told me to come down as soon as you two came back.”

“Can we at least have one more day?” Dean bargained, letting his head fall back, “I still need to wash my clothes, else I’ll have to wear my boxers inside out.”

“Gross.” you grimaced.

“If you wanna take the blame for the delay.” Sam hummed, raising his arms in surrender.

“I’ll handle that.” Dean scrunched his nose, “Then it’s settled, we’re going for drinks tonight.” Dean proclaimed with a cheeky grin.

“What? What about your laundry?” Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean.

“What ‘what?’?! Can’t do much while it's in the washer, now can I? Might as well grab a drink then.” Dean smirked smugly. “And I know exactly where we’ll go!” Dean waved a piece of paper around. You swiftly grabbed it from his hand. Sam peeked over your shoulder to get a glance as you read over the flyer.

“ ’Come dressed up - get a free shot’ …?” Sam read out, raising his brow sceptically “Really, Dean?”

“Admit it, you just want to dress up.” you hummed as your eyes drifted from the flyer to Dean. You almost snorted when you saw his eyes sparkle gleefully. He definitely already knew what he’d wear.

“Nonsense.” he protested nonetheless, “I just think a free shot would be neat.”

“Sure, Dean…” Sam shot him an incredulous glance and shook his head.

As you and Dean walked back to your room you could tell that he wanted you to guess what he'd wear. He stared at you expectantly, not watching where he was going.

“Let me guess…” you hummed amused, trying to hold back a laugh. “Cowboy?”

“Cowboy.” he grins giddily, nodding enthusiastically. “What’s your pick?”

“I dunno… I’m not that big on costumes.” you shrugged.

“You can’t tell me you don’t have any costumes.” Dean gasped almost offended, closing the bedroom door behind him.

“Welp… I don’t.” you shrugged, "Unless you count our disguises as a costume."

“And you’re supposed to be my girlfriend…” he tsked and shook his head in feigned disappointment. Suddenly a mischievous grin tugged on the corners of his lips. “I got an idea for the perfect costume though… and we could probably modify some of your clothes for it…”

„If you say sexy nurse, I’ll hit you,” you warn him, shooting him an unamused glare.

“Ok, no sexy nurse then…” he raises his palms in defeat, “But… I’m sure it would suit you perfectly.”

"Of course, you’d think that…“ you shake your head, rolling your eyes at him.

"I‘m being truthful.” he grins, pulling you closer by your waist. “You‘d look irresistible… but then again you look irresistible in everything." Dean purred into your ear.

"Nice try Romeo.“ you push him away gently but firmly, “I will wear something a little less cliché.”

"Was worth the try…" he shrugged, pecking your lips before letting you go to get ready.

The night at the bar was just what you needed. Dean, Sam and you drank together, bellowing to the music in the bar and indulging in old memories.

Around 3 am Dean and you came back completely hammered. Sam had opted to go home with a girl in a devil costume.

As Dean and you barged into the bunker, you were leaning on each other heavily as you giggled together. You barely made it to your bed when you fell onto the mattress. Dean immediately hugged you close to him, nuzzling into your neck as he took a deep breath. He lazily pressed a few kisses along your neck, making you squirm against him, but his lips stopped just as quickly as they had started. Soft snores resounded from him, his warm breath hitting your skin. But you couldn’t bother, you were already drifting off as well when Miracle suddenly started to growl lowly.

“Mira’ shut up.” you slurred annoyed, but Miracle wouldn’t stop. “Miracle!” you groaned, searching for a pillow around you and throwing it into the darkness.

You heard a dull sound and Miracle fell silent. You could hear him sniff around but soon darkness encased you fully as your drunken mind fell asleep.

"Y/N?" Dean called through the bunker hoarsely when he had finally fallen out of bed.

"I'm in the library," you replied, cradling your pounding head between your hands as you sat at the table. Even the smell of your coffee in front of you made you slightly nauseous. You regretted the last three shots from last night.

There was a moment of silence in which you could hear him waddle towards the library.

"Did you put that creepy doll in the kitchen?! You scared the shit out of me!" Dean’s face was still pale as he entered the library in his bathrobe. You weren’t sure if it was from the hangover or the shock. “Was that your revenge for yesterday? I swear I didn’t put it in your bag!

"I didn't.“ you mumbled slurred, not even bothering to look at Dean as your eyes were closed, „I wouldn’t have touched that thing for a lame revenge like that. Probably was Sam.” you shrugged, “He came back like an hour ago… probably wanted to pay you back.”

"Sammy!" Dean bellowed, already taking off to Sam’s room. You winced at his loud voice and groaned when you heard the brothers start to bicker.

After an agonizing hangover that lasted till late in the evening, you finally felt good enough to help Dean pack for the next morning when he'd leave with Sam. You felt extra clingy tonight even though you knew that they would probably be back in two or three days.

But as the tradition dictated, Dean and you cuddled in bed together before going to sleep.

"When do you have to leave again tomorrow?" you murmured against Dean’s skin as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"We gonna leave at… like 7.30-ish?" Dean hummed, his hand lazily running up and down your spine.

“That early?” you whined to which Dean chuckled. He softly kissed your forehead, wrapping his arms tighter around you and holding you close.

“The earlier we leave, the earlier we get back,” he mumbled against your neck.

“And how long will you be gone?” you huffed against him.

“A day, maybe two?” Dean hummed, “So you only have a single night without your handsome and wonderful man.” he grinned against your skin, making you chuckle.

“Now that I’m thinking about it, I can probably survive a night without you.” you retorted in feigned annoyance.

“Oh really?” he smirked, starting to tickle your sides.

“Hey! No! Stop!” you started to squirm against him, trying to wriggle away from his attack. Dean grinned triumphantly as he continued to tickle you for a moment before stopping.

“Still think you gonna be fine without me?” he looked at you challengingly.

“More than ever.” you grinned cheekily, biting your lip.

“Don’t be mean now…” Dean murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

“Mhm… ok… maybe that’s something I’m gonna miss…” you smiled against his lips.

“Is that so?” Dean smirked smugly, giving you a passionate kiss, “I can remind you of a few more things you gonna miss.” he grinned, swiftly flipping you to lay on the mattress. You yelped in surprise as he towered over you, trailing hungry kisses down your skin, making you gasp in delight.

You groaned softly when you woke up in the middle of the night without seemingly any reason. At first, you thought it was thanks to Dean’s snoring. As you glanced at your alarm clock it was shortly after 3am… again.

It seemed to become a daily occurrence for you to wake up around that time, you just couldn’t understand why. Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a soft shuffling around your bed. You tensed for a moment, glancing around the room. Your eyes landed on the slightly ajar door that you were sure had been closed when Dean and you went to bed.

You rolled your eyes amused at yourself for being scared for a moment when Miracle had probably just pushed open the door to get to his sleeping spot at the foot of your bed.

You nuzzled back into your pillow, closing your eyes to go back to sleep when there suddenly resounded what could only be described as a giggle. Your eyes widened immediately, and your hands tightened on your blanket.

You swallowed hard as you listened into the darkness.

"Dean!" you whispered. No response. You began to shake him slightly, "Dean, wake up!" you whisper-yelled panicked.

"Hmm… what's wrong." Dean groaned sleepily as he began to stir awake.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That giggle!" the fear in your voice was apparent.

"Giggle? Go back to sleep Y/N, your imagination is playing tricks on you."

The floorboards softly creaked making you jump.

"Did you hear that!" you almost shouted.

"Yes, I did. It's just the wood settling, telling you to get some sleep. Nothing more." Dean mumbled, pulling you closer to him before he fell right back to sleep. You rolled your eyes at him.

"Thanks, douchebag…" you muttered, pulling your covers up to your nose and staying alert.

Every creak and crack made you scoot even closer to Dean until you were pressed against him completely. You battled with falling asleep as exhaustion seeped into your bones but once the clock struck 6am the bunker fell silent apart from Dean’s snores. Your eyelids became just too heavy to keep open and soon you were fast asleep.

"Outch!" you cried out, clutching your hip. You were still half asleep when you pottered around in the kitchen. When you had turned around your hip crashed into the open standing cutlery drawer, "For god’s sake Dean! How often do I have to tell you to close these damn drawers!" you hissed in pain at Dean who sat on the table, nursing his coffee. He looked up, startled for a moment.

"I wasn't even near that drawer," he replied groggily, his hand rubbing over his cheek.

"Sure." you grumbled, “That seems to be your standard excuse.”

"No, for real! I only got my coffee. Don’t need cutlery for that." he defended himself and held up his cup. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Don't give me that look Y/N!" Dean warned you jokingly, "I swear, I'm telling the truth. Maybe you opened it in your delirium and forgot about it."

"Maybe." you grumbled as you took a spoon out of the drawer and closed it, "But you can't blame me. I slept awful."

"Why? Didn’t I tire you out enough?” Dean smirked into his mug, “You seemed really exhausted when we fell asleep…”

“Sometimes I wanna smack your pretty face…” you sighed, shooting Dean an unamused glare, "I woke up in the middle of the night because I thought that I had heard somebody or something shuffling through the house. There was creaking and giggling the whole night."

"Giggling?" Dean drawled amused, raising a brow at you.

" I know it sounds weird but I know what I’ve heard.”

“Maybe it was just the whistling of the wind or something like that." Dean shrugged dismissively, “Maybe Miracle whined in his sleep."

"Cause I can’t tell the difference between a dog whine and a giggling sound?" you scoffed, “Miracle wasn’t even in our room last night cause of certain activities…”

“Maybe you were making up things in your post-blissful haze.” Dean grinned cheekily, immediately receiving a hit against his shoulder, “Ow!” he chuckled, “Why are you being so mean to me lately?”

“I’m not mean! You’re just a dick at the moment.”

“Am not!” Dean protested amused, rubbing his arm, “You’ve been on my case ever since we returned from our hunt.”

“Because you started the war with the doll!”

“I didn’t do that!” Dean laughed, “But maybe that’s why you’re so jumpy. Your subconsciousness still tries to get over that little scare.”

"I’m a hunter, Dean. Spooky shit is my daily bread, so I doubt that a little doll could scare me into hallucinating sounds at night.” you scoffed, “And it's not like I was dreaming. I was wide awake!"

"So, you wanna tell me some creature scampered through the bunker last night?” Dean looked at you sceptically, “I would’ve heard it as well. I mean, I was right next to you… Wait a minute… is that why you tried to wake me up last night? It feels like we talked about this already."

"Yeah… and you jackass fell right back asleep.” you huffed, “You wouldn’t have heard a fire alarm over your snoring!”

“I don’t snore!” Dean scoffed offended.

“Oh trust me, you do.” you huffed dramatically, “And yes, I know, there wasn't anybody scampering around… I just. I don't know, ok? Something just felt… off."

"It was probably the wood settling over the night. The nights are getting colder now, the wood draws together.” Dean reasoned, gently rubbing your arm up and down in a soothing motion.

"Presumably…" you mumbled unconvinced.

"And the most plausible," Dean added with a shit-eating grin.

"Bite me!" you quipped, glaring at him as you shrugged off his hand.

"You know, only in our bedroom!" he called after you with a cheeky grin as you walked out of the kitchen, flipping him off.

When the boys left the bunker to drive down to Bobby, you left with them through the garage, saying your goodbye to them before heading in the other direction towards the town to get some groceries so you wouldn’t have to get takeout yet again. Sam, Dean, and you had been almost exclusively on the road for the last couple of months, so the pantry looked quite meagre while other chores had piled up around the bunker. You would have to get to them as soon as you came back from grocery shopping and running a few errands as well.

Around noon you finally found yourself back at the bunker, the trunk of your car filled with multiple bags and the dry cleaning you had picked up on your way. Dean and Sam had the bad habit of wearing their suits until they started to reek and would bring almost every suit they owned to the dry cleaning at once. Usually, you refused to bring or pick up the clothes since it was hard to carry the 10+ suits back and forth but you actually had to pick up a coat of your own, so you tried to be a doting girlfriend and friend for once and picked all of the clothes up.

Just as you killed the engine and tried to figure out how you could carry everything inside without having to take too many trips, your phone began to ring.

"Perfect timing, Mister Winchester." you chuckled as you accepted the call.

"Just came home?" his raspy voice resounded from the speakers. He sounded tired.

"Yup, had a busy day already. How’s the trip going? Taking a break?”

"Sammy had to stretch out his freakishly long legs.” Dean hummed and you could hear a muffled ‘Hey!’ in the background.

“But traffic’s ok?”

“So far, it’s been a breeze. We almost passed the halfway mark, we should get to Bobby around 6pm if we’re lucky.” Dean hummed.

“Where are you right now?” you asked curiously, getting out of the car to walk around to the back.

“Somewhere in the middle of Missouri… I think.”

“How’s it there? Any better than in Kansas?” you tried to keep Dean talking, already missing his voice. You pinned your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you opened the trunk and got the first few bags out of it, walking towards the bunker's main entrance.

“Slightly better weather-wise but I'd much rather be with you right now," Dean murmured into your ear.

"Aw, you're sweet. I'd love that too… then I wouldn't have to carry in all these suits that I picked up at the dry-cleaner's and all these groceries on my own." Dean only snickered on the other end of the line, “We really have to get them cleaned in more reasonable batches instead of every single suit you guys have been wearing till they smell.”

"So, what do you have planned for tonight?" Dean tried to change the subject.

"Not much," you said while fishing for your keys in your coat pocket while balancing the grocery bags on your leg, "Maybe do some of my laundry.”

Dean could hear you unlock the front door and suddenly you screamed and there was a thud.

"Y/N?" Dean asked concerned, his brows furrowing as he listened attentively for any sounds.

"Dean what the heck! Was that necessary?" you panted into the speaker as you picked up your phone from the ground.

"Was what necessary?" he asked confused.

"Don't act so innocent. You have to stop with those pranks!" you laughed, your heart still racing, "You scared the shit out of me. Again. Congratulations!"

"…and with what exactly?" Dean chuckled bemused.

"The doll you sat directly behind the door?"

"Ahh… erm… yeah. Got you!" he forced a laugh. Hadn’t he thrown that weird thing out before they went to the bar 2 days ago? Maybe Miracle had found it in the trash outside and dragged it back inside.

"Ok?" you raised an eyebrow and kicked the doll out of your way, "Moving on. Please remember to tell Cas that he has to come by the next couple of days for the translation of the Enochian we found." you carried the bags towards the kitchen.

“Why me?” Dean grumbled.

“Cause Cas only answers your calls…” you hummed amused. Dean sighed exasperated.

"Yes, sweetheart, I will." he groaned.

The rest of the day you busied yourself with the chores. You started a load of your and Dean’s sheets while tidying your shared room, vacuuming, and dusting off every surface. Afterwards, you busied yourself with restocking the pantry and cleaning out the fridge from unidentifiable containers of what arguably had been food at some point in time.

After cooking yourself a late dinner you let yourself fall into a recliner in the Dean cave. Miracle joined you, getting a few bites of your pasta dish as the two of you watched a movie. In the middle of the movie, your phone vibrated, notifying you of a goodnight text from Dean and the info that he and Sam were on their way back to the bunker and should be back around noon. You quickly send back your reply before stashing the phone into the side of the recliner and turning your attention back to the movie.

You didn’t even realise how tired you were until you woke up in the middle of the night to a completely dark room. The TV must’ve shut off a while ago and Miracle was nowhere to be seen.

You sighed as you tried to wake up enough to get up and wander back to your room. That’s when you realised that you had forgotten to put the sheets back onto the bed after you had washed them and put them into the dryer. You groaned and shuffled in the opposite direction to the laundry room. You didn’t bother turning on the lights, hoping you would be able to fall asleep quicker if you didn’t get blinded by the harsh lights of the bunker.

As you gathered all the sheets out of the dryer you hummed in delight as the scent of freshly washed laundry filled your nose. You couldn’t wait to fall asleep while being encased in this heavenly smell. Your thoughts were rudely interrupted when Mircale suddenly started to bark out of nowhere.

“What is it, Miracle?” you called out annoyed. Maybe he was scolding you for not being in your room when he wanted to sleep, “I’ll be there in a sec…”

You were a little confused when his barking turned into growls and snarls.

“Miracle, what’s your deal?” you groaned.

Your heart stopped beating for a moment, your eyes widening as you froze in the doorway. You swallowed hard and tried to pull yourself together. This probably was just a nightmare. Or as Dean would tell you right now, just the wood settling. Very amused Wood being in a giggly mood…

You felt a chill run down your spine when you heard it again.

The giggling.

“H-hello?” you asked into the darkness, thinking that maybe Dean had already talked to Cas who had come by.

But you never got a response. And usually, Miracle wouldn’t snarl at Cas either, nor would Cas sound like a giggling toddler. So, this was more than odd.

Your stomach felt queasy as you crept up towards your room cautiously. Your heart was dancing tango in your chest. Suddenly you heard pitter-patter grow louder behind you and without another thought you booked it to your room, not even looking back. As soon as you reached your room, Miracle scurried in after you and you slammed the bedroom door close.

You panted as adrenaline shot through and your brain was slowly processing what just had happened. You began chuckling and shook your head amused.

“Miracle, you scared me.” you chuckled slightly relieved and a bit amused that you got scared that easily when a sudden slam against the door made your heart sink again.

You quickly locked the door, backing away immediately and stumbling backwards a few steps until the back of your knees hit the mattress. You threw the washed sheets onto the bed, your eyes never leaving the door as you searched for Dean’s emergency blade under the bed. Once you had the knife secured in your hand you searched for your phone in desperation. It slowly dawned on you that you had forgotten your phone on the recliner, so you had no chance of calling the boys for support. But then again, they probably couldn’t help you in your situation right now anyway since they were still thousands of miles away from the bunker. All you could do was wait it out until they came back and stand on guard.

At some point during the night, you gathered the courage to slide a chair under the handle of the door before you sat down on your bed again. You didn’t hear anything anymore outside of the door, but you didn’t trust the silence one bit. You invited Miracle into the bed for emotional support. Dean would kill you if he found out that you had let the dog sleep in bed with you, but you didn’t really care right now.

Harsh pounding against the door jerked you awake. You had no idea how late it was or when you had fallen asleep. You almost fell to the ground when you scrambled out of bed.

“Darling? Y/N?! Are you in there?” Dean’s worried voice resounded from the other side of the door, the handle turning frantically as he continued to knock against the door.

You quickly scurried to the door and pulled the chair away before you opened the door, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“You’re back.” you tried to sound enthusiastic, but the grogginess was quite apparent on your face.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Dean asked worried, grabbing your shoulders as he inspected you, “What happened? Why did you lock yourself in our room? You look pale.”

“N-nothing.” you stammered sheepishly. You didn’t want to tell Dean what had happened. He probably wouldn’t believe you and tell you that you had probably just imagined it again. Or he’d turn it around and tease you about ‘how much you had missed him’ and that ‘your strong, handsome man was back to protect you from bad dreams again’. And you really didn’t need that right now, especially with the lack of proper sleep.

“Look who we brought,” Sam announced suddenly, making you sigh relieved as the conversation was stirred away from you when Sam stepped aside to reveal Cas tagging along behind him.

“You look awful.” Cas greeted you in his monotone voice.

“Hi, Cas… nice to see you, too.”

Taglist: @hellowgoodbye @fuckyoutommie @loz-3 @whorefordean @kayful00595 @drasticemotions @deans-spinster-witch @tweakingin2 @winharry @jackles010378 @marvelfanfn2187a113

Divider by @talesmaniac89

[slaymitchabernathy]

Enjoy The Show

Coriolanus Snow is less than happy as he walks through the arched entrance of the Capitol zoo.

He hasn’t visited the zoo in years, not since he was a small child who was easily entertained by the silliest of things such as odd looking animals.

Animals that are now all dead.

Once the war started, feeding animals was the last priority for most people, especially when they could hardly afford to feed themselves.

Still, he keeps his head held high as they make their way down the paved pathway, the crowd dispersing once they see him. He parts the crowd like the sea.

“Honestly, they couldn’t have picked a hotter day to do this,” his mother mutters behind him. Even though it’s the beginning of July and the weather is scorching, Coriolanus is still wearing the expected attire. Burgundy trousers, a white button up with a burgundy suit jacket over it. The complimentary rose is of course, pinned to his lapel.

His golden curls are on display, his black leather shoes shine brightly as the sun beats down on them.

He looks like a Snow.

“We can not control the weather darling,” his father reminds her, “once we get a good look at his Tribute, we can determine if there’s any point in spending a cent on her or if we can just sweep this entire thing under the rug.”

Coriolanus hopes it’s the latter. Prays for it in fact. He has been furious when he was assigned the female Tribute from District Twelve to mentor.

Twelve.

Not One or Two. You’d think being the President’s son would garner him a decent District but no, fucking Dean Highbottom was clearly out to get him, to taint his pristine reputation and this was a clear message about his true intentions.

Coriolanus hadn’t even bothered to stay for the Reaping itself. Not after he saw his parents leaving Heavensbee Hall, his father just as mad as he was.

“Casca has gone too far,” he had boomed once they returned home, “plaguing my son with some underfed runt girl. He should count himself lucky that I don’t personally see to the stripping of his title and all that he’s worth.”

Coriolanus has agreed with his father entirely. This was unfair, he wouldn’t even have a chance at his Tribute winning, not when the upper Districts always won, more so the boys than the girls.

But, he couldn’t act like a sore loser. Not before the Games had already begun. So, he decided he would put a spin on it, make this years Games the one to remember.

“I’ll show him what happens when you give a Snow a challenge father,” he had told him, “I’ll get her to the finish line, get everyone to root for her.”

His father had looked doubtful and Coriolanus couldn’t blame him one bit. Father had sighed and then nodded before giving him a stern look, “It won’t be about her son. No. It’ll be about you. She belongs to you. Make it about Coriolanus Snow, use her to win, to land on top.”

They had shared a knowing look before Coriolanus repeated the phrase that had been ingrained into him since birth.

“Snow lands on top.”

꧁ ꧂

Mother is right about one thing though, it’s dreadfully hot today. Coriolanus wishes he could forego the suit jacket but it would be a sign of weakness and showing weakness isn’t what won them the war.

He keeps his gaze forward as they push through the crowd. Well, as their security detail pushes through the crowd. Many people stop and watch, whispering to one another. Coriolanus has grown more than used to it. His classmates treat him normal for the most part although certain ones like Festus Creed and Livia Cardew love to tease him about his father’s job.

“She should be in the last cage darling,” mother says, “all the way in the back.”

It’s just his luck that his Tribute has been kept in the back, faraway from the crowds where no one will notice her or pay her any attention. How can he win this thing if no one knows she exists?

When they pass the cage that belongs to her District counterpart he can’t help but glance inside and swallow at the size of the boy. The male Tribute who has been assigned to Lysistrata Vickers is nearly as tall as Coriolanus. He’s got a mop of brown hair that swoops over his brow and his skin is tan. He’s got this wild look in his eyes that makes Coriolanus glad he wasn’t assigned this particular Tribute.

Not that any of the Tributes are decent human beings but being assigned a girl gives him certain advantages. The first being that all women are below men. He’ll be able to manipulate her easier, coach her, train her. Trying to convince a boy to give the Capitol a good show would be much more difficult but with a girl he can easily persuade her with his famous Snow charm.

He’s always been good with the ladies.

He slows his approach when he spots the small cage his Tribute has been assigned. It looks like it used to be a bird cage. He certainly never paid it any attention when he visited before the war. The bars are rusty and there are several small swings hanging from the ceiling for the birds to perch on.

There’s a rather large swing in the middle, most likely designed for several birds to sit on at once and perform a song or two. He thinks he can recall the zoo putting on little shows with the birds, training them to chirp little melodies for the visitors.

Instead of a bird he finds his Tribute sitting on the swing, her hands wrapped around the iron rods that hold it up.

Coriolanus is beginning to wish he stayed for the actual Reaping. At least he’d know what she looks like. He can only see her from behind and she has long blonde hair that falls to her waist. There’s a pink ribbon tied in the back but it’s a bit lopsided, like she hasn’t had the time or energy to fix it.

He can see that she’s wearing a pink dress, it’s short, and it looks like it’s made of tulle. It’s dirty but that’s no surprise. He walks around the cage and listens to her hum, she sounds quite good if he’s being honest. Much better than his own mother who only sings once she’s got enough alcohol in her system.

When he finally reaches the front of the cage he’s at a loss for words. She’s pretty. She’s very, very pretty.

She’s got a small face and it’s covered in freckles. Her skin is as tan as her male counterpart and she’s got the most startling eyes he’s ever seen. They look almost blue with a mix of gray if that’s even possible.

She looks as surprised to see him as he is to see her but she recovers smoothly and slowly stands up, dusting off her dress. It’s light pink and has two thick straps of tulle holding it up. She’s also wearing high heels which is a rather strange choice of footwear. If he knew there was a possibility of going into the arena, he’d be sure to come to the Realing dressed to fight.

She brushes her hair behind her ears and just as she goes to approach him, she shrinks back.

Coriolanus furrows his brow, confused as to why she’s hesitating but one look over his shoulder is more than enough to explain. His father.

She absolutely knows who Crassus Xanthos Snow is. President of Panem. The man who ended the war.

She’s probably had nightmares about him.

Coriolanus looks back at her, he has to look up since the cage is slightly elevated on a slab of cement but she doesn’t look too tall, even in heels. She looks skinny, not underfed but skinny. Her days in the zoo certainly won’t help with that though. She won’t last long in the arena is she’s starving.

“Let’s go,” his father calls, seeing no need to waste another moment on this girl.

Coriolanus can’t seem to tear his eyes off of her but he nods, slowly turning on his heel before finally looking away and starting at the back of his parents heads. “She won’t last a day,” his mother says with the shake of her head. His father grunts, “That’s if she makes it to the arena.”

Coriolanus feels a small frown tugging on his lips, the least he can do is make sure she gets to the arena. But that might mean actually helping her, feeding her, looking out for her. And he can’t do that.

Can he?

꧁ ꧂

“What did you think about your Tribute Snow?”

Coriolanus looks up from his notes to find Festus Creed looming over him with that sky grin he’s always wearing, “There wasn’t much to think about Festus,” he replies. There really wasn’t. Not when he couldn’t get her to talk or even get relatively close to her.

Festus leans against the desk in front of him, “Yeah, my Tribute is pretty promising. Her names Coral, you know, since she fishes, I guess it makes sense. But she says she’s good with a trident. But who the hell uses a trident?” Coriolanus furrows his brows, he hadn’t thought that other Tributes might have advantages due to the work they do on a regular basis. District Twelve was known for coal.

“I didn’t get to talk to my Tribute yet,” he admits and the surprised face on Festus says it all. “But you saw her didn’t you?” Coriolanus nods and tosses his pencil onto the desk, “I did. And then my father decided that no time or money shall be wasted on her. He doesn’t even think she’ll make it into the arena.”

Coriolanus hadn’t said anything to his parents since they got back from the zoo yesterday. He went straight to his room to try and devise some sort of plan but kept coming up short. It was hard when he knew nothing about her and he couldn’t rely on his father for help.

“Why don’t we go to the zoo today?” Festus asks, “I was gonna go visit Coral, maybe bring her something to eat.” Coriolanus had forgotten that he did in fact have free will and didn’t need his father’s permission for everything but still, he hesitated.

Festus caught onto it immediately and gave him a toothy grin, “It’s not like she can get to you through the bars Snow. I’ve seen your Tribute, you could snap her in half if you had to.”

Well, he has a point.

“Alright,” he decides, “we’ll stop by the zoo after school today.”

꧁ ꧂

After a rather unpleasant interaction with Dean Highbottom, Coriolanus and Festus took off for the zoo.

“I really can’t see what that guys problem is,” Festus says as they approach the familiar sight of the zoo, where the crowd is much smaller than it was yesterday, “I mean, if you hate kids then why work at the Academy?”

Coriolanus gives Festus a knowing look, “Because he’s dead set on making everyone around him miserable, including the students.”

Dean Highbottom might be the pettiest man alive and Coriolanus just knows that his Tribute assignment is living proof of that.

“Well, I’m gonna go find Coral. Good luck with your Tribute,” Festus calls before veering off to a different path. Coriolanus gives him a wave before shouldering his satchel and making his way to the back of the zoo.

He spots the boy from Twelve in his cage and he seems to be talking to someone. He’s grabbing the bars and his back is facing Coriolanus. This boy might just be a top contender for the Games considering his sheer size.

As Coriolanus gets closer, he realizes that the boy is talking to his Tribute. The girl is also standing in her cage, her fingers wrapped around the rusting bars. They’re not too far apart in their cages but both of them have to speak loudly to clearly communicate and Coriolanus only catches the last bit of their conversation.

“…keepin’ us out of the way.”

“Well, what did you expect Jessup? It’s not like we’re anything special.”

So his name is Jessup. An interesting name although Coriolanus is well aware of his name and its own difficulties. Jessup turns the second he senses Coriolanus and glares down at him from his cage. Coriolanus doesn’t take it to heart, mainly because he’s not the one locked in a cage that used to belong to a bear.

His focus is solely on his Tribute who’s watching his approach. She still looks pretty but she’s gotten a bit dirtier since yesterday. She watches as he slowly approaches until he’s right in front of her.

Neither of them seem to know what to say.

“I’m your mentor,” he finally says.

The girl tilts her head and looks across at Jessup before looking back down at Coriolanus, “My mentor?” She repeats and her voice is so heavenly. Like sweet honey rolling off the tongue. Coriolanus nods, “Yes. I’ve been assigned to mentor you through the Games.”

That seems to register something in her brain because she lets go of the rusted bars and walks away, “Well I’m afraid you won’t be much help. I won’t win.”

Coriolanus doesn’t think she’ll win either but she doesn’t need to know that. She needs to know that she has just as much of a chance as any other Tribute. He follows her around the cage to the front where he saw her yesterday, “You don’t know that,” he says, “you don’t know that you won’t win.”

The girl laughs and shakes her head, “Look, I’ve seen your arena. There’s no place to hide. I’m not gonna win, but thanks anyway.” Coriolanus feels somewhat defeated and he’s not even a player. How can she give up so easily? He’s going to have to turn to other tactics. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a sandwich he’s wrapped in wax paper, the sound alerting her of something maybe worth her while, “Well, you might as well have something to eat,” he offers, holding it up to her.

The girl hesitates to step towards him but his father isn’t behind him like last time. All that stands between them are the iron bars of her bird cage. He pushes his hand through a bar, a risk since she could easily grab his arm and force it against the iron bar, breaking it.

But she doesn’t seem like the type to resort to violence, and she certainly doesn’t look too strong. She’s limber, not lean.

“Come on,” he says, nodding towards the sandwich, the sandwich he smuggled out of the dining hall like some damn fugitive. He can’t let all of his hard work go to waste. “You’ve got to be hungry by now. How long has it been since you last ate?”

The girls swallows, her eyes flitting to the sandwich then back to him, “Since the Reaping,” she finally says, her tone softer than it was before, less resentful and more reserved.

“Then you should definitely eat something. Please, take it, free of charge,” he insists, his arm beginning to grow tired.

The girl finally gives into her hunger and approaches him, crouching down to pluck the sandwich from his hand and their fingers brush up against one another and he feels a small shock roll through his body.

The girl begins unwrapping the sandwich, her nimble fingers working quickly on the wax paper.

Coriolanus takes this as a moment to study her up close, noting how smooth her legs are or the fact that her heels look quite uncomfortable. Her dress looks so soft, making her look quite elegant for a District girl. Coriolanus doesn’t even realize that he’s reaching out to touch her dress until they’re both frozen, staring at each other without a clue as to what they should say.

The girl finishes chewing and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, “It’s my momma’s.”

Coriolanus blinks once, twice, pulling his hand back, “Sorry?”

The girl gestures to her dress, “This dress was my momma’s before she passed away. Feels like she’s wrappin’ her arms around me right now, keepin’ me together.”

Coriolanus has never heard such a clear District accent before. This girl has such a distinct twang in her voice and yet it feels like a warm drink after a long day, like she could sing him a lullaby to make all his worries melt away.

“What does your father do for work?” He asks, not wanting to get into the death of her mother. The war took many lives and he can only assume that her mother’s was one of them.

The girl gives him a wicked grin, like she knows something he doesn’t, “My daddy’s the Mayor of District Twelve.”

Coriolanus can’t stop his mouth from dropping.

He had assumed that she came from the nicer part of District Twelve, if that even exists, but to be the Mayor’s daughter adds a whole new level to this. Coriolanus can’t imagine what it would be like to draw your own daughter’s name out of the Reaping Bowl and then read it out loud for everyone to hear.

No wonder she looks so much better than the other Tributes. Her pretty dress and high heels are more than enough to proclaim her status to the world.

And yet here she is, locked away in a dirty bird cage within the Capitol zoo.

“Yep,” she says, taking another bite, “guess the odds weren’t exactly in my favor. But I guess someone’s gotta take one for the team of Mayor’s kids. Guess you saw how heartbroken he was on the television.”

Coriolanus scratches the back of his neck, it’s getting hot and he’s getting a bit personal with her now which can’t be a good sign. “I actually didn’t stay,” he admits, watching her eyes widen in surprise and maybe…betrayal?

“Why not?” She asks, tilting her head, “Didn’t feel like I was worth stickin’ around for?”

Well my father didn’t feel like you were worth sticking around for, he thinks to himself while shaking his head, “I had previous engagements that I had to attend to,” he smoothly lies, watching her raise her her eyebrows, “Did you now? I thought it was mandatory for everyone to watch the Reapin’ ceremony, but I guess I was wrong.”

Coriolanus shrugs, Reaping day can be dreadfully boring by the time they reach Twelve. “Well, when you’re the Presidents son…”

“They make exceptions,” she concludes, biting into the last bit of her sandwich, “well, thanks for stoppin’ by, I appreciate the sandwich. Maybe you’ll get luckier next year and get a better Tribute.”

A frown tugs on his lips because she’s not going to get to the arena with that attitude. He grabs onto the bar nearest to her face, leaning in a little bit, “I could help you,” he whispers even though no one is around to hear them, “help you in and out of the arena if you let me. I can get the people who live in the Capitol to fall in love with you if you want, make them do everything in their power to keep you alive in and out of the arena.”

There’s only so much that can be done for her once she’s in that arena but that’s on a need to know basis. And she doesn’t need to know.

The girl mulls over his proposal for a moment before shaking her head, “I can’t win, I’ve seen the other Tributes, they’re bigger and strong than me. I’m not even dressed for the arena,” she pulls at her tulle dress. She’s got a point.

“But you’re dressed for a show,” Coriolanus tells her, watching her face morph into one of confusion, “part of the Games is getting people to like you. Putting on a show. Do you have any talents? Anything that can capture peoples attention?”

The girl looks around the barren cage she’s trapped in and bites her lip, “Not at the given moment no,” she admits, “only got my charms to live by I suppose.”

She is very pretty but that can only get her so far.

Coriolanus looks her up and down for a second, trying to formulate a good strategy for them to get her to the arena at least.

The Games will be a different story.

“Can you sing? I heard you humming when I first saw you,” he recalls. It had been a short lived interaction but she sounded pretty good.

“Kind of,” she mumbles, brushing her hair behind her ears, “not much of a show bird though.”

Coriolanus points at the giant swing she was sitting on when they first saw each other, “But you can be a songbird right? If you start singing then I bet people will start listening. They’ll come over here and you’ll start to get attention. No one comes over to this part of the zoo.”

The girl rolls her eyes, “Yeah, I’ve noticed that. Jessup seems to be keen on scarin’ them off.”

Jessup seems to be a problem where Coriolanus is concerned.

He cranes his neck to look over at the bear cage and finds Jessup watching them, watching him more specifically. “Is he…are you two friends?” He asks carefully, not wanting to uncover some hidden romance if he can help it.

He doesn’t want to get too involved.

The girl laughs, a genuine laugh and it does something to his heartbeat, “Are you askin’ if he’s my boyfriend?”

Coriolanus holds his hands up in defense and rises back to his full height, “I’m just trying to get my story straight in case any reporters ask me any questions about you two.”

The girl looks over at Jessup, a small smile on her lips, “No, we’re just friends. An unfortunate pair the two of us but there’s nothin’ between us.”

Coriolanus nods, that’s all he needs to hear.

“Well, maybe try and convince him to let some people come over to you. I promise they won’t bite.”

A bittersweet smile grows on her face and she stands up too, “No, they’re not the ones in cages now are they?”

Coriolanus manages to look somewhat sympathetic, he does feel a little bit bad about her predicament being the Mayor’s daughter and all but it was probably long over due for someone like her to be sent to the arena.

“No, they’re not,” he agrees, “but they’re the ones you’ve got to impress if you want a better shot at winning,” he sticks his hand through the bars again, “do we have a deal?”

She contemplates it which slightly pisses him off because she should be jumping for joy at the chance he’s giving her. Sure she won’t win, but she’ll make him look better and that’s all that really matters at the end of the day.

She finally comes to a decision it seems and her small hand grabs his large one, giving it a firm shake, “You have yourself a deal Mr. Snow.”

Coriolanus grins, “Mr. Snow?” He teases.

Most people in the Capitol simply address him by his first name, only public servants use a title such as that one. But one day, he’ll be President Snow.

A much better title in his opinion.

She shrugs and smiles sweetly at him, “Didn’t know if we were on a first name basis yet.” Coriolanus chuckles and reaches into his satchel, pulling out a small water bottle, “I’d say we’re partners now, so I’ll allow it.”

He hands her the water bottle and watches her down the entire thing within seconds, maybe she really hasn’t eaten since the Reaping.

“They don’t feed you in here?”

She shakes her head and pulls the bottle away with a gasp, screwing the cap back on, “Gave us somethin’ on the train ride here but the rats got to it before we could. I suppose they don’t really care what condition we enter the arena in.”

But they should, he thinks, if they wanted a real good show then the Capitol would do well to ensure all the Tributes were somewhat healthy.

“I’ll stop by with more food tomorrow,” he promises, “if people like you then they might give you some food as well.”

“Sounds great,” she says sarcastically, swaying on her feet a little bit. Sweat is shining on her face, she must be so hot, so tired and dehydrated. It makes him a little bit angry, she’s the Tribute of Coriolanus Snow and she’s wasting away in this bird cage.

He ought to make sure she’s well taken care of until the Games, to ensure people can see how wealthy the Snows are, how generous they are that they’d waste their time and their money on some lowly District girl.

“You should get some rest,” he suggests, “it’ll get cooler in the evening.” She nods, grabbing onto the bars again, “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow Coriolanus Snow.”

He grins, shaking his head at her teasing, “I’ll see you tomorrow…”

He still doesn’t know her name. He would if he stayed for the entire Reaping, but alas, here he is.

“Soarynn,” she finishes for him, “Soarynn Nightingale.”

Soarynn, what a pretty name for a pretty girl.

“Soarynn,” he tests it out, liking how it rolls off the tongue, “I’ll see you tomorrow Soarynn Nightingale.”

She gives him a small nod, “I’ll be here.”

She certainly will be. And Coriolanus finds himself enjoying that fact as he strolls out of the zoo, knowing that she’s going to be right where he left her.

Safe and sound.

In her bird cage. His songbird.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[little-riddles]

pretty boy | c.s

pairing: coriolanus snow x oc!plinth word count: 6.2k warnings: mentions of war, mentions of poverty

aurelia would never admit she was anything but capitol, she refused to acknowledge her past home and only her future. unlike her brother, she didn't sympathise with the friends she'd left in two. instead, she was grateful for the opportunity they had living in the capitol, being at the top of society and comfortably lapping in the luxuries.

her mother would often say she was her least troublesome child, something the girl would gloat about whenever her brother was around. she never complained about the life they were privileged enough to be living, always going with their parents to every gala or event with a polished smile on her face. aurelia never complained when their parents would insist she be chauffeured around the city even to the convenience store round the corner from their house.

sejanus sometimes resented his entire family for their ignorance, their lack of accountability for what they left behind in two. the wealth they had gained from betraying their district felt like dirty money to the boy, tainted with the blood of the rebels who died at the hands of his father's weaponry.

he could barely recognise the girl he once called his sister, the girl who would go with him every weekend to hand out pastries to the homeless that she'd made the night before. the girl who would try to look after and adopt every stray animal she spotted on their way home from school. she'd been tainted by the luxuries of the capitol and their mindset. no longer would she be his best friend and confidant in all of his deepest thoughts.

even just looking at the girl as she sat opposite him that morning for breakfast, the boy could hardly recognise her. her once matching dark curly locks were long gone, replaced by a golden blonde colour that made her tanned skin look paler than usual. her curls were brushed out to be looser than they usually were, her baby hairs pinned back to reveal the new piercings along both of her ears.

"caius is not feeling well this morning and won't be driving you. so you're going to be walking. you'll have to get going soon, kids." strabo read his newspaper as he said the words that made his daughter stop mid chew.

"but i still need to get changed." aurelia stared wide-eyed at her father, motioning to her silk pyjamas. "i thought we had another driver in case of emergencies."

"syrus has been called away to drive the cranes this morning, i'm sorry, sweetheart." strabo sighed at the sad look in his daughter's eyes, knowing she prided herself on her looks at the academy.

"i can get mrs vardi to steam your uniform quickly before you have to go in, sweetheart." mrs plinth smiled at the blonde, nodding her head at the maid who was already rushing upstairs to get the girl's uniform sorted before she made it into her room.

aurelia only sighed, scraping her chair against the floor as she left her breakfast half finished. she excused herself to her room, rushing around to find the specific rings and earrings she had wanted to wear that day. the academy was strict on the uniforms of the students, only allowing approved jewellery and hairstyles by the dean himself. after many complaints from teachers of the plinth girl's disregard of the rule, her father had agreed to donate money to the academy if all of the teachers would look the other way. anything for his favourite child, sejanus had grumbled as he remembered how much money his father had had to bribe the dean with in order for him to let it slide.

the girl had always been both parents' openly favourite child since she was born, both having wanted a girl since they found out they were having another child. the day she was born was the day that sejanus felt he was sidelined in his parents' eyes. now, never would he say he was unloved by his parents; his ma always ensured the boy had everything he could ever want and their father would go out of his way to try and take interest in sejanus' hobbies. but he was never aurelia. he was never their perfect capitol-loving daughter who was friends with the children of the highest elites in society.

aurelia smiled as she stared in the mirror, finally ready and with a few minutes to spare for her to fuss over her ginger cat, leo, who was stretching himself across the white sheets of her bed. the cat had been brought with them from two, the only part of her past life that aurelia refused to part with. she'd found the kitten malnourished and on death's door during a particularly cold winter's evening when she was fetching some bread and pastries from the bakery for her ma. she'd sacrificed the loaf of bread to the poor creature and carried him back home inside her fleeced jacket. ever since then the cat had become a staple of her life, never really being officially adopted by the family until they moved to the capitol and had to declare him as theirs to pass through the border.

"aurelia! you're brother’s waiting for you by the door. are you ready?" she flinched as her mother shouted up the stairs, something she rarely did unless it was too early in the morning for her to have the effort to climb the stairs.

"yes, ma! i'm just coming!" aurelia gave leo one final scratch behind his ear before rushing down the marble stairs.

"please make sure your sister doesn't wander off again." strabo called to his son as he watched him collect his things by the door.

"that was one time, pa." aurelia pouted, wrapping her scarf securely around her neck.

"one time too many." strabo rolled his eyes at his daughter.

aurelia merely pouted, slinging her workbook bag over her shoulder and stuffing her feet into her new boots. sejanus didn't know why she'd even bought them, knowing full well that her old pair were in perfectly good condition and looked almost identical to the ones on her feet now.

"we'll see you for dinner, ma." sejanus waved goodbye to his parents, opening the door and letting the cold air hit him straight

"are you sure you can't just drive us, pa?" aurelia shivered, still not used to the colder winters in the capitol after nearly ten years of living there.

"sorry, kiddo. I've got a meeting in an hour that i can't miss." strabo gave the girl a kiss on the head, jokingly shoving her into her brother's back and slamming the door in her face as she turned with a shocked expression.

"I can't believe he just did that." aurelia pouted to her brother, an expression the boy was already getting tired of seeing that early in the morning. "it's way too cold to be walking, why can't pa just let us drive ourselves. we're old enough now, aren't we?"

"oh, quit complaining, lia. don't you remember having to walk everywhere back in two?" sejanus rolled his eyes, holding the girl's arm as they descended the steps of their front door.

"yeah, but it was never this cold back then. plus, we were kids, we'd just race each other to wherever we'd be going." she grinned to herself, remembering giggling as she chased her brother towards the town square each morning.

"yeah, and i'd always win cause you'd give up before we got there and then complain to ma that i cheated." sejanus chuckled, remembering the identical pout to what graced her face now whenever she'd tattle to their parents.

"cause you did!" aurelia rolled her eyes at her brother, quickening her pace as the cold was starting to get through her skirt and trousers.

"oh, please lia. being taller isn't cheating. i've just got the better genes." sejanus grinned smugly, catching his sister as she slipped on a bit of ice on the pavement. "see, i would've seen that ice coming."

"oh really?" aurelia raised her eyebrow teasing, pushing the boy into a pile of snow. "did you see that coming?"

"aurelia!" sejanus had a shocked expression on his face, scrambling to his feet and chasing the girl as she sped off down the road. "that's cheating!"

the pair felt like they were back in two as they chased one another down the street, pushing each other back and forth and sejanus pulling the smaller girl into a headlock.

"sej! sej, stop! my hair!" she whined, feeling the boy ruffling the hairs she'd purposefully pushed back. "i spent an hour pinning this all back this morning."

"oh quit whining, you'll live." sejanus rolled his eyes, letting the girl go nonetheless.

aurelia quickly smoothed down her hair, praying that the roughness of her brother's hands hadn't completely destroyed the girls she'd smoothed down that morning. she huffed another sighed as she spotted the mud stains that were splattered across the very front of her new boots.

"now i remember why i started getting the car in the mornings." aurelia grumbled, following her brother's actions in walking towards the main road that lead to the academy.

"why? too scared you'd lose every morning?" sejanus grinned down at her, enjoying being able to joke around with her for the first time in while.

"terrified you'd make me look district again with your wrestling every morning." aurelia huffed, smoothing out her jacket as they approached the main entrance of the academy.

"hey! don't you dare forget where we come from, aurelia plinth." sejanus roughly pulled the girl back by her arm, his eyes softening as he realised his actions. "you can't erase our past, lia."

"i might not be able to yet, but i can sure try." aurelia yanked her arm out of his grasp, climbing the final steps by herself.

aurelia plastered her most polite capitol smile onto her face as she entered through the doors, waving to anyone who would acknowledge her presence. she made sure to greet her fellow classmates that she passed, rushing up to grab the arm of her best friend as she spotted her about to enter their classroom.

"good morning, clemmie!" aurelia grinned at the girl, her first real smile since she'd entered the building.

"lia. surprised you weren't here already like you usually are." clemensia raised her eyebrow at the girl, her eyes flicking down to the mud that was slowly drying on her shoes. "did you walk here? daddy lose his money or something, can't afford a driver anymore."

"oh, hush." aurelia rolled her eyes, knowing the girl long enough to hear the joking behind her words. "our driver was sick this morning and arachne's family had already claimed our back up driver."

"oh, you poor thing. having to walk in the cold all by yourself." clemensia laughed as she saw the girl's eye roll once again.

"like you haven't had to walk to school once or twice in all your life." aurelia stopped at they reached her seat.

"hmmm. no, i can't think of any time i have." clemensia winked at the girl, waving goodbye as walked further down to her seat near the front.

having only just been passing the class last year, aurelia refused to sit anywhere but at the very back of the classroom. history had never been her best subject even back in two, having a hard time remembering dates of events of the names of all the generals and rebel leaders in the war. she didn't understand why she'd ever need to know the name of who lead the first raid of the capitol. he was dead now, as were all of the district sympathisers who'd betrayed their nation during the war.

she watched closely as her brother entered the room a few moments later, a familiar blonde walking stoically by his side. sejanus was talking animatedly at the boy who didn't seem to be reacting to a word he was saying. aurelia chuckled as her brother finally seemed to give up on the conversation and leave to his seat in front of her.

"done harassing coriolanus for the morning?" aurelia raised her eyebrow, fiddling with the pen in her hands.

"done annoying clemensia for the morning?" sejanus teased back at her, knowing the girl would've immediately flocked to her closest friend in the class once she'd entered the room.

"at least she's not my only friend."aurelia huffed, regretting her words as she watched her brother's face fall.

"whatever, lia." sejanus mumbled, turning back to the front of the room.

she felt terrible as she watched his shoulders slump forward, hoping no one had heard the siblings' conversation. the pair were still ostracized by most of their classmates since they'd moved from two, aurelia having lost most of her connections to the district that were obvious to them but still reminded of her roots daily by arachne and festus' teasing. the duo had made it their life's goal to ensure the girl never forgot that she was really capitol, that she was lower than them in all ranks of life. they reminded her daily that her family was only allowed to stay because they were liked for the heaps of money they threw into the capitol society.

the class passed slowly for the girl, her head feeling like it was going to explode as professor demigloss seemed to be reading through the final chapter of their workbook at light speed. she couldn't remember a single date or name he'd mentioned in the last fifteen minutes as she struggled to write down everything he was erasing from the blackboard. she knew she'd have to ask clemensia to see her notes before the end of the day so she could try and remember them before their end of term exams in a few weeks.

the class started packing up quickly as the bell rang signalling lunch, each ignoring demigloss' final words as he tried to remind everyone of the essay that was due at the end of the week. only one student seemed to be listening, as he hurriedly scribbled down everything the professor was saying as he too packed up his things to leave for lunch.

"miss plinth, a word please?" he called the blonde forward, drawing everyone left in the room's attention to the girl who had failed to escape the room quick enough.

"yes, professor?" aurelia looked around nervously, hoping no one would hear their conversation.

"i have your last exam's results here." demigloss picked up the stack of papers from the drawer in his desk. "and i have to say, i'm impressed. i didn't know anyone could get so much so wrong."

aurelia blushed in embarrassment, looking round the room and catching the sorry eyes of her brother at the door. she didn't know why the teacher was calling her out so harshly in front of the rest of the class, never having had trouble with the man before. she questioned whether it was due to her being originally from two, or the fact that she had been allowed to skip a whole year of the academy during her first semester.

"i think it would be best if you have a tutor leading up to your exams. i know you have high grades in the rest of your classes and i don't wish for this to lower your overall result." he nodded his head to someone behind the girl. "i've asked mr snow if he could tutor you after class to help get your grade up before the end of term."

"y-yes, professor. thank you. i'll try my hardest to get my grades up."aurelia looked down to the floor, not even looking the snow boy in the eye as she rushed to leave the classroom before anymore could be said to her.

she rushed down the corridor towards the canteen, hoping she'd make it before all of the food she'd eat were gone. she could feel her cheeks still burning read as she turned the corner, embarrassed beyond belief at being called out on her awful grade in front of nearly the entire class.

"plinth!" coriolanus huffed as he chased down the girl, annoyed that she'd left him alone with the professor he could barley stand. "slow down!"

aurelia ignored the boy, quickening her pace more as she finally reached the canteen and joined the back of the queue. there was a long line of students waiting to grab their own tray of food, each eagerly watching as more and more food seemed to be brought out for them to grab. this was one of the only parts of the capitol lifestyle that aurelia didn't agree with; their surplus of waste. she knew that by the end of the day, all of the leftover food would be thrown away and sent to the incinerators. the amount of food that she saw at the end of the lunch break be taken back into the kitchens could feed a family back in two for a month or more.

"you and your brother are the most frustrating people i've ever met." snow snapped as he caught up with the girl, dragging her out of line and towards a table where her brother was sat.

"hey! i was just about to get to the front." aurelia yanked her arm out of his grasp, pouting as she spotted the queue grow longer than when she'd first joined it.

"i don't care. i'm not the one failing and needing a tutor." coriolanus rolled his eyes, reaching into his bag and pulling out his history workbook. "i want these back by the end of the day."

"what?" aurelia raised her eyebrow at the boy, not taking the outstretched book from his hand.

"copy my notes and then give the book back to me." snow rolled his eyes.

"how is this tutoring me? i thought you were going to help me not just make me copy your work." aurelia rolled her eyes back at him, crossing her arms in a protest.

"fine, take it or don't. i don't care." coriolanus rolled his eyes, dropping the book onto the table and joining the back of the queue.

"what's his problem?" aurelia turned back to her brother, who had been watching the conversation the whole time.

"he's just being coriolanus." sejanus rolled his eyes, shoveling more food into his mouth.

aurelia pouted once again, not enjoying her brother not taking her side in the conflict. she turned back to the queue that had grown even longer, sighing as she knew there was no way she'd have enough time to wait in line and eat everything without making herself sick.

"you can have my fruit and salad." sejanus was already pushing the bowls towards his sister, knowing she was debating skipping lunch all together.

"sej, you need to eat something healthy as well." aurelia rolled her eyes, sitting down opposite him in front of the bowls anyways.

sejanus just shrugged his shoulders, "i'll just ask ma to make me a smoothie when we get home."

aurelia couldn't argue with the compromise, tucking in to her small portion of food. the duo sat mostly in silence as they at either food, only talking every so often about the homework for their following class. their silence was interrupted as coriolanus ungracefully sat down beside the girl and immediately began ripping into the small roll on his tray.

aurelia watched the blonde out of the corner of her eye as he ripped the bread into small pieces then shoved multiple into his mouth at once, barely chewing before swallowing his food and moving onto the next bit of food. she didn't know why the boy was acting so animalistically with his food, only ever having seen someone eat that way back during the dark days in two.

"i'm done eating if either of you want the rest of my fruit." aurelia pushed the half eaten bowl towards the center of the table.

"you sure, lia? you've barely eaten anything." sejanus looked concerned as the girl reached for the untouched workbook still on the table.

she only nodded her head, hoping that her brother wouldn't ask anymore questions. she watched as a hand slowly inched its way towards the bowl, silently dragging it back towards themselves. coriolanus felt ashamed as the girl's eyes locked on him in his attempt at sneakily taking the food. he knew she'd make a comment, question why the supposedly rich boy was going for other's seconds. but the girl did no such thing, she simply smiled at him and turned her head back towards the open workbook.

aurelia didn't speak a word to the boys for the rest of the lunch break, quietly copying down coriolanus' notes into her own workbook. his handwriting was some of the neatest she'd ever seen, rivaling even that of her ma who'd boasted about being one of the few in her hometown growing up who was able to read and write in cursive. the boys were conversing above the girl, completely ignoring her presence as though she wasn't there. she didn't catch a word of what they were talking about until she reached the last page of coriolanus' notes.

"if i hear one more person offer me money or anything else to get in favour with my father for that prize i'm going to lose my shit." sejanus huffed, slamming his fork down on his tray.

"sej!" aurelia gasped, not used to her brother using such barbaric language.

"i'm sorry, lia but i'm just sick of it." he rolled his eyes, standing to clear away his tray.

aurelia followed him with her eyes, worried about what sorts of illicit things he'd been offered in exchange for putting a good word in with their father.

"you shouldn't worry too much about him. no one here would ever actually do anything to him like that." coriolanus spoke up from beside the girl, his tray completely empty of any traces of food. "they all know what your daddy could do if they tried anything."

"leave my father out of this." aurelia snapped, quick to defend the man she looked up to.

"just stating the truth." he mumbled, stopping from teasing the girl any further as sejanus returned to the table.

"i'm sorry, lia. i didn't mean to snap at you." sejanus sighed, giving his sister his signature puppy dog eyes and sorry smile he'd use on their ma to get out of trouble.

"whatever." aurelia rolled her eyes, picking up her workbook and passing coriolanus' back to him. "thanks for the tutoring session, was so helpful."

coriolanus caught the sarcasm behind her words, smirking as he watched her huff to herself and pack up her bag. the bell rung faster than he'd expected, the trio packed their bags up and moved towards the door to the canteen. aurelia walked faster ahead of the boys, hoping to make it to their next lesson before her favourite spot in the classroom was taken once again by arachne.

"you can come round tonight and actually tutor her. she's too proud to actually ask for anymore help." sejanus didn't turn his head as he spoke, continuing to watch as his sister got further and further away.

"i don't want to intrude on her plans." coriolanus too watched the girl, intrigued by her haste in leaving the duo.

"it's a thursday, she usually spends this evening studying anyways." sejanus shrugged, hoping the boy would hear the silent plead in his voice.

"i'll ask aurelia what she thinks after class." coriolanus sped off before sejanus could argue any further, almost catching up to the plinth girl before she entered the classroom.

he was intrigued in the girl in a way he never had been before, having only really interacted with her in relation to her brother. their conversations had been limited to the occasional small talk at gala events for the academy or whenever her brother had left them alone.

aurelia could feel's eyes in the back of her head watching her, knowing full well that her brother was still trying to apologise for his words from before. she didn't turn back towards the boy, giving him the cold shoulder and sitting herself down in her seat at the back of the classroom that had, thankfully, not been taken by arachne yet.

the class seemed to drag for the plinth girl, her mind completely throwing out all of the information that professor click was throwing at her. the end of the day couldn't come soon enough, her body aching to fall straight into the comfort of her bed. she looked forward to the warmth that their chef's cooking would bring her and the relief a nice relaxing bath would give her.

"lia, let's go. the car is waiting for us." sejanus stood in front of her desk, his bag over his shoulder and her own held in his hand.

"let me just speak with clemmie quickly." aurelia smiled at her brother, grabbing her bag off of him and flagging down her friend.

"aurelia, how can i help you?" clemensia smiled at the girl, looping their arms together.

"do you wanna come round tonight and study? i'm thinking we could help each other with that essay for demigloss." aurelia smiled hopefully at the girl.

"i can't tonight. mother is making me restart my etiquette classes before the term ends." clemensia rolled her eyes. "apparently young ladies shouldn't slouch and it's a travesty to her that i slouch when i'm tired."

"god, i'm glad i don't have your mother. she'd kill me if she saw my posture at the dinner table." aurelia laughed with the girl, remembering being scolded by mrs dovecote once for laughing too loudly at a gala.

"aurelia!" a voice cut of the girls' laughter, alerting the pair to the approaching duo.

"what do you want, coriolanus? here to steal my best friend?" clemensia rolled her eyes, pulling the girl closer to her side.

"sejanus said you were studying tonight, i can come by and help tutor you?" coriolanus ignored the teasing of the dovecote girl, his eyes not moving from aurelia's.

"i'll be okay. i got your notes from class earlier, i should be fine to study with those." aurelia's confidence dimmed slightly as she spoke of her struggles with the class.

"lia, just let him help. stop being stubborn." sejanus tried to convince his sister, knowing only he could sway her opinion on anything.

"fine, whatever." she rolled her eyes, turning her back to the boys and leading clemensia out of the building.

"so, study date with snow." clemensia gave the girl a knowing smirk.

"first it is not a date, and second, take that stupid grin off of your face." aurelia pushed her friend away, crossing her arms as she continued to tease her.

"lia, you know what his reputation is. what are the chances little miss perfect plinth isn't so perfect after tonight." clemensia grinned at the blush already crossing her friend’s face.

"clemensia! you can't say things like that!" aurelia gasped, hoping no one had heard the girl's crass words.

"it's not like i'm lying. you've heard the stories of him and that girl behind the train station." clemensia watched as the plinth girl's cheeks grew redder by the second. "jesus, lia. if i didn't know any better i'd think you were the one i was talking about."

aurelia simply rolled her eyes, spotting the family car parked in front of the main gates of the academy. she waved at syrus who was sat in the front seat, their father obviously having fought hard for the driver to take the two plinths home. clemensia gave her a light hug and waved her off as she walked towards her own car.

"oi! hurry up before i make you two walk!" aurelia called out to the boys, slamming the door shut and laughing as she watched the pair speed up almost into a run towards the car.

the pair scrambled for the door, coriolanus being bold and taking the seat beside aurelia and leaving sejanus to sit opposite the pair. the blonde girl sat stiffly beside him, not daring to move in case she accidentally brushed him with her body, clemensia's words of his reputation still floating in her mind. she remained still for the remainder of the journey, her eyes watching the barren trees pass by quickly.

to say the car ride was the most awkward situation that aurelia could remember would be a lie, as the second the pair were left alone in the family's living room, she could feel herself wanting to make any excuse possible to leave. coriolanus seemed to be feeling the same way as he sat completely still on the pristine sofa, not daring to move in fear of ruining the placement of the cushions that their maids had organised whilst the family were gone.

"i-i'm going to see if my ma needs any help in the kitchen." aurelia stood quickly, rushing to reach the safety of the kitchen.

"aurelia, dear. you didn't mention you were having a friend over." mrs plinth smiled knowingly at her daughter, struggling to reach something on the top shelf.

"ma, it's not like that. coriolanus is just helping me study for our exams." aurelia rolled her eyes, grabbing the cookie jar for her and setting it on the side.

"i remember your father and i having many study dates before we began dating." she grinned as her daughter's face grew red.

"he's just helping me study, ma. it's not a date." aurelia whispered, not wanting the snow boy to hear them from the living room.

"whatever you say, sweetheart." she patted her daughter on the cheek, passing by her with the tray of food and drinks she'd prepared when she saw aurelia was having someone over. "i hope you're not too hungry, coriolanus. our cook won't be back for about an hour so this is all i have to offer."

"no worries, mrs plinth. i'm sure my cook will have something ready for when i return home." coriolanus smiled at the older lady, turning back to his open workbook with a hope that she'd leave the pair alone.

"of course, i'll leave you two to it then." she sent her daughter a wink as she exited the room, closing the door almost fully.

aurelia rolled her eyes at her ma's antics, knowing she was obsessed with trying to set her daughter up with as many of the 'eligible young men' as she called them in high society as possible. she couldn't remember how many blind dates she'd been set up on in the last year since she'd turned sixteen, her parents finally agreeing that it was time for the girl to start looking for a husband. why this courtesy didn't extend to sejanus as well, the girl could not say.

"so, do you want to start on post war history or the formation of panem?" coriolanus turned to the girl, pausing as he saw the blush covering her face. "everything okay,aurelia?"

"yes, just a little warm is all."aurelia smiled nervously, taking a sip of the cold lemonade her mother had brought out for the pair. "let's start with the formation for now then work our way through the war."

coriolanus nodded suspiciously, staring at the snow that was beginning to settle out the window and the plinth's lack of a fireplace running. the girl was obviously lying, he just couldn't figure out why. the pair worked quickly through the notes that he had taken during class, quizzing the girl every so often to test her memory. as they got closer to the end of coriolanus' notes, the boy realised she wasn't struggling as much as he assumed she would've been had she really needed tutoring.

"i don't know why demigloss made me tutor you. you're fine." coriolanus shrugged, taking the last cookie from the plate.

"i just can never seem to remember the dates of things. facts or detailed descriptions of what happened during the war or why the war even began i can do. but i just can't name anyone who was there or when it happened." aurelia pouted, deepening it when she realised all of the cookies were gone.

"we'll figure something out next time to get you to remember them." coriolanus huffed, pulling his bag closer to him so that he could start packing away his things.

"next time?" aurelia raised her eyebrows. "wasn't this just a one time thing? to help me with the topics i struggled with in the last essay."

"demigloss made it very clear that this wasn't the only topic you were struggling with. he said you couldn't even remember the date the original americas were founded." coriolanus smirked at the girl, having clearly caught her off guard with his knowledge of her grades.

"he shouldn't be sharing such personal details with other students." she pouted, sulking back into the once neat cushions.

coriolanus scoffed at her disregard for the tidiness and organisation that had been put into the room, knowing the family's maids would be in once they left the room to puff them back up to the original shape. he felt the feeling of resentment growing in his stomach as his eyes roam the room, spotting the vast amount of expensive looking trinkets littering almost every surface of the room. they were flaunting their undeserved wealth for him, showing what he could've had, what he should have.

"ma said dinner will be ready in ten if you want to stay, coriolanus?" sejanus entered the room, disrupting the snow's spiral of hate.

"i should be okay, don't want to leave tigris worrying of where i am." coriolanus smiled nervously, hoping to any gods there were that the boy would be his usual amount of stubborn and make him stay.

"if you insist." sejanus shrugged, walking back out of the room.

coriolanus cursed the boy for actually having a back bone for once and not begging the boy to stay over. his hope turned to the boy's sister, praying she would offer him to stay over as a thanks for his tutoring.

"ma will probably want a hand laying the table. will you be okay seeing yourself out?" aurelia turned to the boy, seeing the sad look in his eyes disappear as he felt her eyes on him.

"yes. i should be going. don't want to leave my grandma'am waiting." coriolanus smiled stiffly, standing slowly from the sofa.

"grandma'am?" aurelia chuckled, finding the nickname he used for his grandmother cute.

"y-yes." coriolanus felt his cheeks blushing. "tigris couldn't quite say grandma as a toddler and it just stuck."

"it's cute. makes me question those rumours about you." aurelia winked, standing to leave the room.

"what rumours?" coriolanus' small smile dropped, following the girl as she walked towards where her mother was helping cook dinner.

"oh, nothing. just some things i've heard here and there." aurelia shrugged, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen. "i'll see you tomorrow. thanks again for the tutoring session."

"you're welcome, aurelia." coriolanus smiled, the rehearsed smile he used for public appearances.

"oh, coriolanus. i'm glad I caught you before you left. cook made a few too many portions and i knew you weren't staying for dinner, so." mrs plinth rushed from the kitchen, a basket full of food in her arms. "i wrapped up some food for you to take back to tigris and your grandmother. i can't thank you enough for helping out our dear aurelia."

"ma." aurelia groaned, leaning into the wall out of embarrassment.

"oh, mrs plinth you didn't have to do that." coriolanus grabbed the basket nonetheless, his eyes betraying the nonchalance he was trying to give off.

"oh, it's nothing, dear." she waved the boy, bustling back into the kitchen to grab the silverware.

"i'll walk you to the door." aurelia smiled at the boy, holding the basket for him as he slipped on his shoes and academy jacket. "thanks again for tutoring me, really."

"no problem, goldie." he smiled, taking the basket back without thinking of the nickname he'd given her.

"goldie?" she raised her eyebrow at the new nickname.

"w-well, i've heard clemensia and sejanus call you lia, so i just thought it'd be nice to have something different." coriolanus shrugged, looking down bashful. "i-i'm sorry. i should've asked before just deciding that was your nickname."

"n-no, it's okay. i like it." aurelia looked down, a matching blush colouring her cheeks.

"i'll see you tomorrow then, goldie." coriolanus' smile grew cheekier as he spotted the rouge on her cheeks, waving as he stepped out the front door.

"see you tomorrow, coriolanus." aurelia waved back, closing the door once she saw he'd made it safely down their icy steps.

"he seems nice." ma made her jump as she snuck up behind her. "should i start chaperoning your 'study sessions' from now on?"

"ma! i told you it's not like that." aurelia crossed her arms across her chest embarrassed, grabbing the silverware from her ma's grasp.

"mmhmm. i told your grandmother the exact same thing and look where i am now. i can just see it now, coriolanus and aurelia snow." she sighed dramatically, only half joking to tease her daughter.

"ma!" aurelia blushed a colour her mother didn't even know a person could go, laughing as she watched her storm into the dining room to set the table.

[scoobydoodean]

Honestly I think that a lot of the reason why people view dean as abusive towards jack is because they genuinely think of him as a baby/toddler and not someone with the cognitive abilities of an older teenager/young adult who just happens to not really know much about the world. Obviously there's more to it because people ignore that cas wanted to put jack in the cage and sam wanted to use his power, but I stumbled across a post the other day about how they (the writers and the characters) should've given jack a capri-sun instead of a beer because he's a "literal toddler"... which is just completely incorrect and considering he has the body and brain development of someone who's older, there's no reason to not give him a beer. (also is anyone really a dad unless they give their 3 yr old a beer /j)

Context

It's funny because the whole point of the beer scene is to establish that Jack is not a child and that treating him like one would be ridiculous.

[DEAN grabs and opens a bottle of beer. JACK imitates him.] DEAN Wait, wait, wait, wait. How old do you think you are? JACK 3 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes.

(From 13.02)

When Jack proves that he has such an advanced understanding of communication and time and such an unusual awareness of exactly how much time has passed, Dean immediately realizes that treating him as if he's a baby makes absolutely no sense because he clearly isn't one. Treating him like a child would be infantilizing, and we see Jack rebel against the notion that he's a baby a few times.

There's some push I think to separate Jack's intellectual abilities from his emotional coping abilities, but even these I think are more or less on track with other young adolescents around the age he presents himself to be when controlling for traumatic experiences. Jack's initial emotional regulation abilities don't read like those of a toddler, but of a young adult who's confused and upset and has been through a lot. Without powers in the mix that he doesn't know how to control, his emotional regulation abilities seem fairly standard for boys his age (at least to me). I don't think for example, that the anger he experiences and the reasons he experiences that anger can be equated with toddler-like tantrums, and any other person whose been around a toddler and sees what kind of things make them furious knows what I mean.

Granted, there are things Jack is naive about that are probably connected to him being "born yesterday". We see this early on when Asmodeus tries to manipulate Jack into opening a hell gate. At the same time, this interaction also highlights Jack's innate sense of right and wrong as a counterbalance. I personally find it frustrating when people try to take away Jack's understanding of right and wrong (rooted in his love for others) and cast him as a baby to the extent that he isn't even capable of understanding the golden rule, when Jack shows over and over how seriously he takes the personhood of other people and the weight of their lives. This is what allows him to see through Asmodeus's trickery in a very confusing situation, simply realizing, "you're hurting my friends". Jack using his care for others as a foundation to navigate Asmoedus's trickery also serves as excellent contrast to soulless Jack in 14.19. Soulless Jack was not able to grasp that Dumah was manipulating him because he was missing this crucial piece of himself—his love for other people including strangers. Because he was lacking that part of himself at that time, he was unable to grasp that filling someone's body with worms for not wanting to be turned into an angel is horrible and cruel and couldn't be a good thing. His naivety played a role in what happened, but it was the crucial missing soul that actually allowed this situation to transpire. I think a lot of people just straight up think normal Jack also would have been manipulated into killing people for Dumah in this circumstance and I really just don't think that's true at all.

[wheretheloveisstored]

1x01 Pilot kitchens

We don't see a lot of kitchens in the pilot episode. The thrust of the Winchesters’ home shots are centered around the family tree (outside), the exterior of the Winchester family home, John and Mary's bedroom, John's den, and of course, Sam's nursery.

Sam's kitchen is little more than a peek-a-boo, but nevertheless, I think it's an important presence here. It's clear that this is the first kitchen Sam's very own, separate from the domestic life of his nursery/youth.

In short, I think the decoration of Sam's living space itself deserves "a kitchen label," notable for it being more personalized and "alive" than almost anything we'll see out of Sam Winchester for a very long time.

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But first, some honorable mentions:

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(1) BAR

The first roadhouse-style bar of friendships

Ah, a festive bar. A place where we gather to drink and be merry, to celebrate life's milestones. (Or conversely, to nurse our hurt feelings.) Here, Sam's girlfriend and classmates try to coax Sam out of his perfectionistic shell. At Stanford, Sam is called "golden boy" and is clearly a hard worker.

He's the specter of the (quickly-burning-out) gifted kid. The overachiever. (We'll see this echoed in other underdog characters like Kevin Tran and Patience Turner. They work so hard because so much is stacked against them. But that work ethic is a candle burning at both ends. Sam is a bit of a head-down, stick-in-the-mud guy, like how Patience Turner in 13x03 Patience doesn't do "fun" because she's so busy with the "successful" planning of her life.

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(2) A DINER

It’s not a family diner, per se, but in a sense, it's almost familial. Small-town. Outside of it, we see the vic's girlfriend, Amy, putting up missing posters.

Inside, she sits and talks with Sam and Dean, being supported by her friend. (Aside: We also see the first protective amulet, which is echoed in the symbol hanging above John's bed. And of course, the amulet that passed from Bobby to Sam to Dean.)

(2a) Coffee cups of domesticity: Sam and Dean drink from matching white mugs, a symbolic shared space of family, of domestic rhythms. We'll see coffee featuring heavily in shows like The Winchesters, with the core four using it as a way to signify their blended "work-family."

But in this episode, we see it in the mode of the shared childhood domesticity. Siblings are often from the same vine, and they grow out of the same nursery, sharing the first kitchens together as they grow up.

Alternatively, the caffeine symbolizes work. Long hours toiling.

////////////////////////////////////

(3) SAM'S APARTMENT

Sam's apartment is small but cozy, filled with personal affects that are very unlike the Sam we come to know while on the road and the one that later lives in the bunker.

We see a bike, a well-loved reading chair and a dog-eared book, a fun, colorful shirt on a peg. This is certainly "Sam's home" in a way that other places are not. Perhaps it's because this home was so well-nested that it's painful for him to carve out spaces for himself in the future, even under the protective wing of his brother (and later his mother).

(Sam peeks in from the direction of the kitchen.)

Yes, this is a home. Light streams in, and plants, books, and art are everywhere. There is growth. It's like a little Eden. Artwork and esoteric touches are very cute throughout the apartment. Books and reading chairs abound, and we see stacks of document boxes for Sam's studies.

Even in her sleep, Jess is turned towards the sun, like a flower basking in the light.

Also: These beaded dividers were SO popular at this time; I feel so nostalgic! (It's such a college thing! (Of note, Endverse Cas also has a beaded divider like this is his cabin).

///

OTHER ITEMS OF NOTE:

Behind the image of Sam packing a sickle, we see a full bookshelf. Jess comes into the frame, and we see her hearth-coded gray dressing robe hanging on the wall.

It could also be Sam's robe, a sign that at one time, he let himself be clothed in the warmth and comforts of a home. (Perhaps by the time he lands at the bunker, he can't bear it.)

///

WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

When she sits, Jess tenderly caresses his travel bag; a microcosm of married life, almost like: "I wish we didn't have to go to work; work interferes with the Living part of life."

We get Jess too, asking her own variant of, "Where are you going?" / "I wish you'd at least tell me where you're going..."

Henry kept things from John, Mary kept things from John, and now Sam keeps things from Jess.

It's also an echo of child-John to Henry, "Where're you goin'?" & "Work."

And also Dean's season 15 plea to Cas, "Where're you going? What's happening?" & "To look for another way."

///

SAM LOVES HIS FAMILY BUT HIS APARTMENT IS HIS HOME

Sam certainly has love, affection, and nostalgia for his family, even John. As John still keeps a photo of John in his apartment, we see that John still keeps a photo of the boys:

But after the hunt, Same went home.

He comes through the door, and we more personal item: a bike tire, and two umbrellas (one for him and one for Jess). We also see his big stack of study materials and documents:

////////////////////////////////////

(4) THE KITCHEN

Now, Sam visually enters his (tiny) kitchen:

It's small but full of love. A "welcome home." The camera looks through the bars of the empty table chair, and we glimpse his face. He's touched by the little gesture of love: "Missed you! Love you!"

Jess knows he's stressed out. She tries to support him through it. (He's recently taken the LSAT, and now he's trying to juggle his career obligations with his obligations to his family.)

But these cookies have a dark side.

There's also a cheeky reference to an "offering." (Offerings of produce and meals are shared in gratitude for God's provision.) Here too, as with Mary, Jess will become a ritualized sacrifice, chaining Sam to the narrative.

Sam's very first visualized kitchen... becomes a murder scene.

////

SAM WAS GOING TO STAY

Just as Zachariah will in It's a Terrible Life apply extra pressure to pull Dean away from his family life [Bobby, Eileen, and Jo] Azazel applies similar pressure on Sam to pull him away from Jess.

When he gets home to Jess, Sam's relieved. He smiles and grabs a cookie, sighing in relief, feeling loved. (Later in life, Sam seems to struggle to allow himself to eat sweets like this.)

But here, he takes it for what it is: a simple gift of love that he's allowed to eat.

He collapses onto his bed, hearing the calming sound of the shower going in the background. The light is shining on his face...

Until of course it isn't.

That light turns to droplets of blood.

Like Mary is a narrative sacrifical for the audience and gods "above," so too is Jess. The sacrifice occurs, not in Sam's childhood nursery, but at the crossroads of his childhood and adulthood.

Sam echoes John's fate but also Mary's…

In the Beginning (4x03), John was sacrificed by Azazel to put Mary on a certain narrative path, to draw her into a deal. John died right before he was going to commit to a future with Mary, just like Jess died before she would commit to a future with Sam, like Cas died in 12x23 before he could commit to a future with Dean.

///

SAM'S HOME BURNING

Sam's little home is burning.

It's the place where he made his very first, very own kitchen. The place with the paintings and the plants and the chairs... The murder is marked by cruelty and spectacle, as Mary's was:

Azazel’s signature kills often involve twisting the neck (Deanna, John) and/or gutting (Samuel, Mary, and Jess).

Here, Jess's body echoes it all. The stomach, linked to vital organs and emotions ("gut feelings"), symbolize dominance, control, and tye exposing of vulnerability. "The soft underbelly." The bent limbs are meant to send a message, to mock, to create a dramatic display—a very literal "twisted" sense of aesthetics. She’s posed like a doll, with her left "heart-side hand" raised, as if reaching.

Her outfit, unlike her usual nightwear, suggests Azazel dressed her for impact. It’s even possible Azazel turned on the shower and baked the cookies—both calculated to shock Sam.

///

THE RESCUE

I'm not sure how much Dean knows about what happened to Mary, but this is quite traumatic for him as well, bringing up all kinds of horrific memories.

Sam cried as he was carried out the first time, and he cries here now.

////////////////////////////////////

BONUS: THE AFTERMATH

Dean looks on at the ashes of Sam's new life; Azazel (in the form of John) looks down at the ashes of Sam's old life.

After the fire, Dean’s pose and jacket mirror Azazel/John, like a ghostly, refracted image. No matter who's at fault, ultimately Dean is the one who feels responsible.

While Dean may deserve some criticism for his human faults, he is often unfairly saddled with blame for everything that goes wrong in his family’s life—caught between genuine mistakes and misplaced accusations.

John, on the other hand, bears far greater responsibility for his wrongdoings. His unhinged paranoia often made his family less safe. And yet, like Lucifer, he is also something of "an Azazel," a "scapegoat." Having already caused so much harm, he becomes a lightning rod for additional blame, absorbing the weight of everything wrong with the world.

John is the felled protector, the failed protector. After all, the snake came into the garden under his watch. (He's really a bit like Gadreel when you think about it.)

[pr33tylul]

okg pls give us a hufflepuff reader with slytherin harry

HARRY POTTER X FEM!READER.

The bet

(LOVE WHOEVER MADE THESE PICS OMFL ITS HOT IN HERE 🥵)

Part 1 Part 2 part 3

Slytherin!Harry and hufflepuff reader!

Ravenclaw Hermione and gryffindor Ron.

All marauders are alive just not mentioned

Voldy baldy is dead.

Warnings: cigarettes, swearing

Harry James potter.

The girls around hogwarts loved him, until they found out what a total player he was. Many girls would cry over the heartbreak, some girls wouldn’t give a shit and never talk to him again. Some reckoned he was only like that because he was friends with Draco malfoy.

Y/n y/l/n. One of hogwarts most favourite students, y/n wasn’t one to hate on people but when it came to potter she couldn’t stand him, she promised herself she’d never EVER fall in love with someone like Harry.

“So what class have you got next, y/n” Hermione looked at her. “Oh I have char-” y/n not looking where she was going she bumped into someone, her books going everywhere. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going” she laughed awkwardly even before looking up and when she did, she wished she could take the apology back but she didn’t say anything.

“Oh it’s okay, not your fault” Harry had passed her books that he’d helped her pick up his friends not far behind him smirking at the both of them, he looked into her beautiful e/c eyes and smiled.

Y/n smiled as she walked off with Hermione, the slytherin boy just standing there.

“The Harry Potter just spoke to you!” Hermione squealed “did you see how he was looking at you? He was totally crushing!” Y/n looked at her best friend “he can crush all he wants, do you not know what he done to Ginny Weasley? He cheated on her with Cho Chang then he cheated on Cho for some other girl, how come you were so excited for him to speak to me? If you want him I’m sure he would snog wit-”

“Y/n! Gross anyways…Ron’s the one I like…what do you think I was doing why you and Harry were talking?” She shyly replied. Hermione wasn’t the kind of girl to fall for a boy then go blabbering on about it, she was very secretive with that kind of subject.

“Come on enough boy talk, flitwick will have our necks if we are late.” Y/n said walking a bit faster.

Later on.

Ron, malfoy, Harry, Blaise, Seamus, Dean. We’re all in the slytherin common room joking and laughing around. Malfoy then had said [this story there aloud in each others common room.]

“So potter, you looked real cozy with that hufflepuff girl, y/l/n? Was it.” Malfoy had lit up a cigarette. Ron turned over to Harry. “As in y/n? Blimey Harry” “we just bumped into eachother no big deal.”

“But she’s definitely not a big fan of you like most girls” Dean continued on. “Chang and Weasley basically told the entire school and rumour has it the golden girl of hufflepuff don’t like you, at all. No way she’d fall in love with you mate”

“Is that a challenge?” Harry smirked looking at Dean. “You don’t think I Can get y/n y/l/n to fall in love with me?” Harry sat up “okay I bet you all, I can make that girl fall in love with me.”

“And if you don’t.” Seamus Said, all boys now interested in this bet. “If I don’t I’ll jump in the black lake, naked.” “Alright, bet” Blaise said, Harry now lighting a cigarette.

~

The next day, Harry came down extra early making his way to the hufflepuff common room, waiting for y/n.

He had a cigarette in his mouth when She came out, her hair down and a bright smile on her face. “Y/l/n!” Harry shouted throwing the blunt on the floor and walking towards her.

She turned around “potter” he heard the annoyance in her voice. “You and me, date?” She rolled her eyes “yeah nice try, find another girl.” She walked off and he was left alone stood there.

Again the next day he came down waiting for her, she looked even more annoyed when she saw him. He took her books “what do you think your doing?” She said rolling her eyes. “Walking you to class, what does it look like?”

She smiled a little bit and she prayed that he didn’t see, but he did.

He did the same the next day. “Well I’m not surprised to see you here potter.” She said giving him her bag. He put it on his shoulder. “I want to get on a first name basis, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” They walked to breakfast together. “So y/n. You gonna let me talke you on a date?” She looked down. She really wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t do this for the others, maybe he was actually trying to keep a relationship.

“I don’t know” was all she said but Harry knew that he’d get the hufflepuff girl to fall in love with him with out falling in love with her.

Well, little did he know.

The weekend had come and Harry and y/n were in Harry’s dorm. “So what’s your favourite colour.” Harry asked randomly. “(Your favourite colour)” he nodded “ and food?” “(Your favourite food)” you were currently sitting at his desk why he was in his bed.

“Do you have a favourite colour?” Y/n asked looking at him. “Well I like red I suppose, and favourite food is Treacle Tart” y/n laughed at the way Harry licked his lips as he said it. “You know, I could get used to that, your laugh” Harry smiled at her.

She blushed a little.

“You want to make treacle tart?” Y/n offered, Harry’s eyes lighting up at the question, y/n being pushed down to the kitchen.

Y/n had started with the flour, salt and butter. Mixing it together with her hands, Harry standing behind her he put his hands in aswell helping her. Y/n slightly blushed but didn’t let him see. When they had done the pastry they started on the filling, then assembling the tarts and putting them in the oven.

Y/n cleaning up the flour on the side. Harry being Harry he took some and tapped her face. He laughed “oh really! Is that how you wanna be.” She giggled taking flour and chucking it all over him.

Y/n ran around the kitchen covered in flour and so did Harry but y/n was hiding and Harry was catching her. Quietly, Harry scared her casing her to scream and giggle. He pulled her in by her waist and looked down at her. He looked into those (e/c) eyes he adored so much.

Maybe he was falling for her after all.

After there fight they cleaned up the kitchen so the elf’s would have to, not even long after that the treacle tart was done.

Harry had taken it out the oven and he took one without waiting.

“This is the best treacle tart I’ve ever had, hands down.” He said smiling at her. She giggled as she wiped his lips with her thumb.

“It’s getting late” y/n said looking at the time. They were aware that they were out after hours but sneaking back was the problem. “It’s okay love, come on.” Harry had put the tarts on a plate and took one more before leaving the kitchen.

He took her up to the hufflepuff common room. “I’ll see you tomorrow” He smiled. She smiled back. “Yes. And you can take me on that date tomorrow night if you want.” Harry smiled, the bet had blown over him and all he cared about was her. “I’ll pick you up at seven”

She watched him leave before slipping into the common room, smiling as she walked to her dorm.

[top-secret-replier]

Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. : Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. JANET BENSON: Barry! Breakfast is ready! BARRY: Coming! : Hang on a second. (Barry uses his antenna like a phone) : Hello? ADAM FLAYMAN: (Through phone) - Barry? BARRY: - Adam? ADAM: - Can you believe this is happening? BARRY: - I can't. I'll pick you up. (Barry flies down the stairs) : MARTIN BENSON: Looking sharp. JANET: Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. BARRY: Sorry. I'm excited. MARTIN: Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. : A perfect report card, all B's. JANET: Very proud. (Rubs Barry's hair) BARRY= Ma! I got a thing going here. JANET: - You got lint on your fuzz. BARRY: -

Ow! That's me! JANET: - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! (Barry flies out the door) JANET: Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! (Barry drives through the hive,and is waved at by Adam who is reading a newspaper) BARRY== - Hey, Adam. ADAM: - Hey, Barry. (Adam gets in Barry's car) : - Is that fuzz gel? BARRY: - A little. Special day, graduation. ADAM: Never thought I'd make it. (Barry pulls away from the house and continues driving) BARRY: Three days grade school, three days high school... ADAM: Those were awkward. BARRY: Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. ADAM== You did come back different. (Barry and Adam pass by Artie, who is jogging) ARTIE: - Hi, Barry! BARRY: - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. ADAM: - Hear about Frankie? BARRY: - Yeah. ADAM== - You going to the funeral? BARRY: - No, I'm not going to his funeral. : Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. : Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. ADAM: I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. (The car does a barrel roll on the loop-shaped bridge and lands on the highway) : I love this incorporating an amusement park into our regular day. BARRY: I guess that's why they say we don't need vacations. (Barry parallel parks the car and together they fly over the graduating students) Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. (Barry and Adam sit down and put on their hats) : - Well, Adam, today we are men. ADAM: - We are! BARRY= - Bee-men. =ADAM= - Amen! BARRY AND ADAM: Hallelujah! (Barry and Adam both have a happy spasm)

ANNOUNCER: Students, faculty, distinguished bees, : please welcome Dean Buzzwell. DEAN BUZZWELL: Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... : ...9: : That concludes our ceremonies. : And begins your career at Honex Industries! ADAM: Will we pick our job today? (Adam and Barry get into a tour bus) BARRY= I heard it's just orientation. (Tour buses rise out of the ground and the students are automatically loaded into the buses) TOUR GUIDE: Heads up! Here we go. ANNOUNCER: Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. BARRY: - Wonder what it'll be like? ADAM: - A little scary. TOUR GUIDE== Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco : and a part of the Hexagon Group. Barry: This is it! BARRY AND ADAM: Wow. BARRY: Wow. (The bus drives down a road an on either side are the Bee's massive complicated Honey-making machines) TOUR GUIDE: We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life : to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. : Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. : Our top-secret formula : is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured : into this soothing sweet syrup : with its distinctive golden glow you know as... EVERYONE ON BUS: Honey! (The guide has been collecting honey into a bottle and she throws it into the crowd on the bus and it is caught by a girl in the back) ADAM: - That girl was hot. BARRY: - She's my cousin! ADAM== - She is? BARRY: - Yes, we're all cousins. ADAM: - Right. You're right. TOUR GUIDE: - At Honex, we constantly strive : to improve every aspect of bee existence. : These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. (The bus passes by a Bee wearing a helmet who is being smashed into the ground with fly-swatters, newspapers and boots. He lifts a thumbs up but you can hear him groan) : ADAM== - What do you think he makes? BARRY: - Not enough. TOUR GUIDE: Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. (They pass by a turning wheel with Bees standing on pegs, who are each wearing a finger-shaped hat) Barry: - Wow, What does that do? TOUR GUIDE: - Catches that little strand of honey : that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. ADAM: (Intrigued) Can anyone work on the Krelman? TOUR GUIDE: Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. : But choose carefully : because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. (Everyone claps except for Barry) BARRY: The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. ADAM: What's the difference? TOUR GUIDE: You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off : in 27 million years.

BARRY: (Upset) So you'll just work us to death? : We'll sure try. (Everyone on the bus laughs except Barry. Barry and Adam are walking back home together) ADAM: Wow! That blew my mind! BARRY: "What's the difference?" How can you say that? : One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. ADAM: I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. BARRY: But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? ADAM: Why would you question anything? We're bees. : We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. BARRY: You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? ADAM: Like what? Give me one example. (Barry and Adam stop walking and it is revealed to the audience that hundreds of cars are speeding by and narrowly missing them in perfect unison) BARRY: I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. ANNOUNCER: Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. BARRY: Wait a second. Check it out. (The Pollen jocks fly in, circle around and landing in line) : - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks!

ADAM: - Wow. : I've never seen them this close. BARRY: They know what it's like outside the hive. ADAM: Yeah, but some don't come back. GIRL BEES: - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! (The Pollen Jocks hook up their backpacks to machines that pump the nectar to trucks, which drive away) LOU LO DUVA: You guys did great! : You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! (Punching the Pollen Jocks in joy) I love it! ADAM: - I wonder where they were. BARRY: - I don't know. : Their day's not planned. : Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. : You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. ADAM== Right. (Barry and Adam are covered in some pollen that floated off of the Pollen Jocks) BARRY: Look at that. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. ADAM: It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. BARRY: Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. (Barry waves at 2 girls standing a little away from them) ADAM== Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? BARRY: Distant. Distant. POLLEN JOCK #1: Look at these two. POLLEN JOCK #2: - Couple of Hive Harrys. POLLEN JOCK #1: - Let's have fun with them. GIRL BEE #1: It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. BARRY: Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! : He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! (Slaps Adam with his hand to represent his scenario) GIRL BEE #2: - Oh, my! BARRY: - I never thought I'd knock him out. GIRL BEE #1: (Looking at Adam) What were you doing during this? ADAM: Obviously I was trying to alert the authorities. BARRY: I can autograph that. (The pollen jocks walk up to Barry and Adam, they pretend that Barry and Adam really are pollen jocks.) POLLEN JOCK #1: A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? BARRY: Yeah. Gusty. POLLEN JOCK #1: We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. BARRY: - Six miles, huh? ADAM: - Barry! POLLEN JOCK #2: A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. BARRY: - Maybe I am. ADAM: - You are not! POLLEN JOCK #1: We're going 0900 at J-Gate. : What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? BARRY: I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. (The scene cuts to Barry looking out on the hive-city from his balcony at night) MARTIN: Hey, Honex! BARRY: Dad, you surprised me. MARTIN: You decide what you're interested in? BARRY: - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. : Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day?

MARTIN: Son, let me tell you about stirring. : You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. : You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. BARRY: You know, Dad, the more I think about it, : maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. MARTIN: You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? : That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. : Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! JANET: - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. BARRY: - I'm not trying to be funny. MARTIN: You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! JANET: - You're gonna be a stirrer? BARRY: - No one's listening to me! MARTIN: Wait till you see the sticks I have. BARRY: I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! (Barry's parents don't listen to him and continue to ramble on) MARTIN: Let's open some honey and celebrate! BARRY: Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. : Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! JANET: I'm so proud. (The scene cuts to Barry and Adam waiting in line to get a job) ADAM: - We're starting work today! BARRY: - Today's the day. ADAM: Come on! All the good jobs will be gone. BARRY: Yeah, right. JOB LISTER: Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... BEE IN FRONT OF LINE: - Is it still available? JOB LISTER: - Hang on. Two left! : One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. ADAM: - What'd you get? BEE IN FRONT OF LINE: - Picking crud out. Stellar! (He walks away) ADAM: Wow! JOB LISTER: Couple of newbies? ADAM: Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! JOB LISTER: Make your choice. (Adam and Barry look up at the job board. There are hundreds of constantly changing panels that contain available or unavailable jobs. It looks very confusing) ADAM: - You want to go first? BARRY: - No, you go. ADAM: Oh, my. What's available? JOB LISTER: Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. ADAM: - Any chance of getting the Krelman? JOB LISTER: - Sure, you're on. (Puts the Krelman finger-hat on Adam's head) (Suddenly the sign for Krelman closes out) : I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. (Takes Adam's hat off) Wax monkey's always open. ADAM: The Krelman opened up again. : What happened? JOB

LISTER: A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. : Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. : Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! ADAM: Oh, this is so hard! (Barry remembers what the Pollen Jock offered him and he flies off) Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, : humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, : mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? (Adam turns around and sees Barry flying away) : Barry! POLLEN JOCK: All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... ADAM: (Through phone) What happened to you? Where are you? BARRY: - I'm going out. ADAM: - Out? Out where? BARRY: - Out there. ADAM: - Oh, no! BARRY: I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. ADAM: You're gonna die! You're crazy! (Barry hangs up) Hello? POLLEN JOCK #2: Another call coming in. : If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd : that gets their roses today. BARRY: Hey, guys. POLLEN JOCK #1 == - Look at that. POLLEN JOCK #2: - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? LOU LO DUVA: Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. POLLEN JOCK #1: It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. (Puts hand on Barry's shoulder) LOU LO DUVA: (To Barry) Really? Feeling lucky, are you? BEE WITH CLIPBOARD: (To Barry) Sign here, here. Just initial that. : - Thank you. LOU LO DUVA: - OK. : You got a rain advisory today, : and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. : So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, : hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. : Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. : Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! BARRY: - That's awful. LOU LO DUVA: (Still talking through megaphone) - And a reminder for you rookies, : bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! : All right, launch positions! POLLEN JOCKS: (The Pollen Jocks run into formation) : Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! LOU LU

DUVA: Black and yellow! POLLEN JOCKS: Hello! POLLEN JOCK #1: (To Barry)You ready for this, hot shot? BARRY: Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. POLLEN JOCK's: Wind, check. : - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. : - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. BARRY: Scared out of my shorts, check. LOU LO DUVA: OK, ladies, : let's move it out! : Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! : All of you, drain those flowers! (The pollen jocks fly out of the hive) BARRY: Wow! I'm out! : I can't believe I'm out! : So blue. : I feel so fast and free! : Box kite! (Barry flies through the kite) : Wow! : Flowers! (A pollen jock puts on some high tech goggles that shows flowers similar to heat sink goggles.) POLLEN JOCK: This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. : Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. : Roses! POLLEN JOCK #1: 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. : Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. (The pollen jock fires a high-tech gun at the flower, shooting tubes that suck up the nectar from the flower and collects it into a pouch on the gun) BARRY: That is one nectar collector! POLLEN JOCK #1== - Ever see pollination up close? BARRY: - No, sir. POLLEN JOCK #1: (Barry and the Pollen jock fly over the field, the pollen jock sprinkles pollen as he goes) : I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, : a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. BARRY: That's amazing. Why do we do that? POLLEN JOCK #1: That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. BARRY: Cool. POLLEN JOCK #1: I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. could be daisies. Don't we need those? POLLEN JOCK #2: Copy that visual. : Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. POLLEN JOCK #1: Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? POLLEN JOCK #2: Affirmative. (The Pollen jocks land near the "flowers" which, to the audience are obviously just tennis balls) KEN: (In the distance) That was on the line! POLLEN JOCK #1: This is the coolest. What is it?

POLLEN JOCK #2: I don't know, but I'm loving this color. : It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. POLLEN JOCK #1: Yeah, fuzzy. (Sticks his hand on the ball but it gets stuck) POLLEN JOCK #3== Chemical-y. (The pollen jock finally gets his hand free from the tennis ball) POLLEN JOCK #1: Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. (The pollen jocks turn around and see Barry lying his entire body on top of one of the tennis balls) POLLEN JOCK #2: My sweet lord of bees! POLLEN JOCK #3: Candy-brain, get off there! POLLEN JOCK #1: (Pointing upwards) Problem! (A human hand reaches down and grabs the tennis ball that Barry is stuck to) BARRY: - Guys! POLLEN JOCK #2: - This could be bad. POLLEN JOCK #3: Affirmative. (Vanessa Bloome starts bouncing the tennis ball, not knowing Barry is stick to it) BARRY== Very close. : Gonna hurt. : Mama's little boy. (Barry is being hit back and forth by two humans playing tennis. He is still stuck to the ball) POLLEN JOCK #1: You are way out of position, rookie! KEN: Coming in at you like a MISSILE! (Barry flies past the pollen jocks, still stuck to the ball) BARRY: (In slow motion) Help me!

POLLEN JOCK #2: I don't think these are flowers. POLLEN JOCK #3: - Should we tell him? POLLEN JOCK #1: - I think he knows. BARRY: What is this?! KEN: Match point! : You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to EAT IT! (A pollen jock coughs which confused Ken and he hits the ball the wrong way with Barry stuck to it and it goes flying into the city) BARRY: Yowser! (Barry bounces around town and gets stuck in the engine of a car. He flies into the air conditioner and sees a bug that was frozen in there) BARRY: Ew, gross. (The man driving the car turns on the air conditioner which blows Barry into the car) GIRL IN CAR: There's a bee in the car! : - Do something! DAD DRIVING CAR: - I'm driving! BABY GIRL: (Waving at Barry) - Hi, bee. (Barry smiles and waves at the baby girl) GUY IN BACK OF CAR: - He's back here! : He's going to sting me! GIRL IN CAR: Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! (Barry freezes as well, hovering in the middle of the car) : GRANDMA IN CAR== He blinked! (The grandma whips out some bee-spray and sprays everywhere in the car, climbing into the front seat, still trying to spray Barry) GIRL IN CAR: Spray him, Granny! DAD DRIVING THE CAR: What are you doing?! (Barry escapes the car through the air conditioner and is flying high above the ground, safe.) BARRY: Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. (Barry sees that storm clouds are gathering and he can see rain clouds moving into this direction) : I gotta get home. : Can't fly in rain. : Can't fly in rain. (A rain drop hits Barry and one of his wings is damaged) : Can't fly in rain. (A second rain drop hits Barry again and he spirals downwards) Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! (WW2 plane sound effects are played as he plummets, and he crash-lands on a plant inside an apartment near the window) VANESSA BLOOME: Ken, could you close the window please?

KEN== Hey, check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. : You see? (Folds brochure resume out) Folds out. (Ken closes the window, trapping Barry inside) BARRY: Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. (Barry tries to fly away but smashes into the window and falls again) : What was that? (Barry keeps trying to fly out the window but he keeps being knocked back because the window is closed) Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... : Drapes! (Barry taps the glass. He doesn't understand what it is) That is diabolical. KEN: It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. ANDY: What's number one? Star Wars? KEN: Nah, I don't go for that... (Ken makes finger guns and makes "pew pew pew" sounds and then stops) : ...kind of stuff. BARRY: No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. KEN: When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. BARRY: (Looking at the light on the ceiling)

There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. (Starts flying towards the lightbulb) : I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. (Barry hits the lightbulb and falls into the dip on the table that the humans are sitting at) KEN: I predicted global warming. : I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. (Andy dips a chip into the bowl and scoops up some dip with Barry on it and is about to put it in his mouth) : Wait! Stop! Bee! (Andy drops the chip with Barry in fear and backs away. All the humans freak out) : Stand back. These are winter boots. (Ken has winter boots on his hands and he is about to smash the bee but Vanessa saves him last second) VANESSA: Wait! : Don't kill him! (Vanessa puts Barry in a glass to protect him) KEN: You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! VANESSA: Why does his life have less value than yours? KEN: Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? VANESSA: I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. (Vanessa picks up Ken's brochure and puts it under the glass so she can carry Barry back to the window. Barry looks at Vanessa in amazement) KEN: My brochure! VANESSA: There you go, little guy. (Vanessa opens the window and lets Barry out but Barry stays back and is still shocked that a human saved his life) KEN: I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. VANESSA: Put that on your resume brochure. KEN: My whole face could puff up. ANDY: Make it one of your special skills. KEN: Knocking someone out is also a special skill. (Ken walks to the door) Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. : - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? VANESSA: - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. : (Vanessa tries to close door) KEN== - You could put carob chips on there. VANESSA: - Bye. (Closes door but Ken opens it again) KEN: - Supposed to be less calories. VANESSA: - Bye. (Closes door) (Fast forward to the next day, Barry is still inside the house. He flies into the kitchen where Vanessa is doing dishes)

BARRY== (Talking to himself) I gotta say something. : She saved my life. I gotta say something. : All right, here it goes. (Turns back) Nah. : What would I say? : I could really get in trouble. : It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. : I can't believe I'm doing this. : I've got to. (Barry disguises himself as a character on a food can as Vanessa walks by again) : Oh, I can't do it. Come on! : No. Yes. No. : Do it. I can't. : How should I start it? (Barry strikes a pose and wiggles his eyebrows) "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. (Vanessa is about to walk past Barry) Here she comes! Speak, you fool! : ...Hi! (Vanessa gasps and drops the dishes in fright and notices Barry on the counter) : I'm sorry. VANESSA: - You're talking. BARRY: - Yes, I know. VANESSA: (Pointing at Barry) You're talking! BARRY: I'm so sorry. VANESSA: No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. : But I don't recall going to bed. BARRY: Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. VANESSA: This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! BARRY: I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, (Pointing to the living room where Ken tried to kill him last night) but they were all trying to kill me. : And if it wasn't for you... : I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. (Vanessa stabs her hand with a fork to test whether she's dreaming or not) : That was a little weird. VANESSA: - I'm talking with a bee. BARRY: - Yeah. VANESSA: I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! BARRY: I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. (Barry turns to leave) VANESSA: - Wait! How did you learn to do that? BARRY: (Flying back) - What? VANESSA: The talking...thing. BARRY: Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. VANESSA: - That's very funny. BARRY: - Yeah. : Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. : Anyway... VANESSA: Can I... : ...get you something? BARRY: - Like what? VANESSA: I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Coffee? BARRY: I don't want to put you out. VANESSA: It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. : - It's just coffee. BARRY: - I hate to impose. (Vanessa starts making coffee) VANESSA: - Don't be ridiculous! BARRY: - Actually, I would love a cup. VANESSA: Hey, you want rum cake? BARRY: - I shouldn't. VANESSA: - Have some. BARRY: - No, I can't. VANESSA: - Come on! BARRY: I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. VANESSA: - Where? BARRY: - These stripes don't help.

VANESSA: You look great! BARRY: I don't know if you know anything about fashion. : Are you all right? VANESSA: (Pouring coffee on the floor and missing the cup completely) No. (Flash forward in time. Barry and Vanessa are sitting together at a table on top of the apartment building drinking coffee) : BARRY== He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. : He finally gets there. : He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. : And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. : Why would I marry a watermelon?" (Barry laughs but Vanessa looks confused) VANESSA: Is that a bee joke? BARRY: That's the kind of stuff we do. VANESSA: Yeah, different. : So, what are you gonna do, Barry? (Barry stands on top of a sugar cube floating in his coffee and paddles it around with a straw like it's a gondola) BARRY: About work? I don't know. : I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. VANESSA: I know how you feel. BARRY: - You do? VANESSA: - Sure. : My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. BARRY: - Really? VANESSA: - My only interest is flowers. BARRY: Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. : Anyway, if you look... (Barry points to a tree in the middle of Central Park) : There's my hive right there. See it? VANESSA: You're in Sheep Meadow! BARRY: Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! VANESSA: No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. BARRY: - Why do girls put rings on their toes? VANESSA: - Why not? BARRY: - It's like putting a hat on your knee. VANESSA: - Maybe I'll try that. (A custodian installing a lightbulb looks over at them but to his perspective it looks like Vanessa is talking to a cup of coffee on the table) CUSTODIAN: - You all right, ma'am? VANESSA: - Oh, yeah.

Fine. : Just having two cups of coffee! BARRY: Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. VANESSA== Yeah, it's no trouble. BARRY: Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. (Barry points towards the rum cake) : Can I take a piece of this with me? VANESSA: Sure! Here, have a crumb. (Vanessa hands Barry a crumb but it is still pretty big for Barry) BARRY: - Thanks! VANESSA: - Yeah. BARRY: All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. : Or not. VANESSA: OK, Barry... BARRY: And thank you so much again... for before. VANESSA: Oh, that? That was nothing. BARRY: Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... (Vanessa and Barry hold hands, but Vanessa has to hold out a finger because her hands is to big and Barry holds that) (The custodian looks over again and it appears Vanessa is laughing at her coffee again. The lightbulb that he was screwing in sparks and he falls off the ladder) (Fast forward in time and we see two Bee Scientists testing out a parachute in a Honex wind tunnel) BEE SCIENTIST #1: This can't possibly work. BEE SCIENTIST #2: He's all set to go. We may as well try it. : OK, Dave, pull the chute. (Dave pulls the chute and the wind slams him against the wall and he falls on his face.The camera pans over and we see Barry and Adam walking together) ADAM: - Sounds amazing. BARRY: - It was amazing! : It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. ADAM: Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! : Giant, scary humans! What were they like? BARRY: Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. : They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. ADAM: - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? BARRY: - Some of them. But some of them don't.

ADAM: - How'd you get back? BARRY: - Poodle. ADAM: You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. : You had your "experience." Now you can pick out your job and be normal. BARRY: - Well... ADAM: - Well? BARRY: Well, I met someone. ADAM: You did? Was she Bee-ish? : - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! BARRY: - No, no, no, not a wasp. ADAM: - Spider? BARRY: - I'm not attracted to spiders. : I know, for everyone else, it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. : I can't get by that face. ADAM: So who is she? BARRY: She's... human. ADAM: No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. BARRY: - Her name's Vanessa. (Adam puts his head in his hands) ADAM: - Oh, boy. BARRY== She's so nice. And she's a florist! ADAM: Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! BARRY: We're not dating. ADAM: You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes : with power washers and M-80s! That's one-eighth a stick of dynamite! BARRY: She saved my life! And she understands me. ADAM: This is over! BARRY: Eat this. (Barry gives Adam a piece of the crumb that he got from Vanessa. Adam eats it)

ADAM: (Adam's tone changes) This is not over! What was that? BARRY: - They call it a crumb. ADAM: - It was so stingin' stripey! BARRY: And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! : - You know what a Cinnabon is? ADAM: - No. (Adam opens a door behind him and he pulls Barry in) BARRY: It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. ADAM: Be quiet! BARRY: They heat it up... ADAM: Sit down! (Adam forces Barry to sit down) BARRY: (Still rambling about Cinnabons) ...really hot! (Adam grabs Barry by the shoulders) ADAM: - Listen to me! : We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! BARRY== Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? ADAM: There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! : You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! BARRY: - Thinking bee. WORKER BEE: - Thinking bee. WORKER BEES AND ADAM: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! (Flash forward in time; Barry is laying on a raft in a pool full of honey. He is wearing sunglasses) JANET: There he is. He's in the pool. MARTIN: You know what your problem is, Barry? (Barry pulls down his sunglasses and he looks annoyed) BARRY: (Sarcastic) I gotta start thinking bee? JANET: How much longer will this go on? MARTIN: It's been three days! Why aren't you working? (Puts sunglasses back on)

BARRY: I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. MARTIN: What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! JANET: Would it kill you to make a little honey? (Barry rolls off the raft and sinks into the honey pool) : Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. : Martin, would you talk to him? MARTIN: Barry, I'm talking to you! (Barry keeps sinking into the honey until he is suddenly in Central Park having a picnic with Vanessa) (Barry has a cup of honey and he clinks his glass with Vanessas. Suddenly a mosquito lands on Vanessa and she slaps it, killing it. They both gasp but then burst out laughing) VANESSA: You coming? (The camera pans over and Vanessa is climbing into a small yellow airplane) BARRY: Got everything? VANESSA: All set! BARRY: Go ahead. I'll catch up. (Vanessa lifts off and flies ahead) VANESSA: Don't be too long. (Barry catches up with Vanessa and he sticks out his arms like ana irplane. He rolls from side to side, and Vanessa copies him with the airplane)

VANESSA: Watch this! (Barry stays back and watches as Vanessa draws a heart in the air using pink smoke from the plane, but on the last loop-the-loop she suddenly crashes into a mountain and the plane explodes. The destroyed plane falls into some rocks and explodes a second time) BARRY: Vanessa! (As Barry is yelling his mouth fills with honey and he wakes up, discovering that he was just day dreaming. He slowly sinks back into the honey pool) MARTIN: - We're still here. JANET: - I told you not to yell at him. : He doesn't respond to yelling! MARTIN: - Then why yell at me? JANET: - Because you don't listen! MARTIN: I'm not listening to this. BARRY: Sorry, I've gotta go. MARTIN: - Where are you going? BARRY: - I'm meeting a friend.

JANET: A girl? Is this why you can't decide? BARRY: Bye. (Barry flies out the door and Martin shakes his head) : JANET== I just hope she's Bee-ish. (Fast forward in time and Barry is sitting on Vanessa's shoulder and she is closing up her shop) BARRY: They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? VANESSA: To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! : Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. BARRY: A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? VANESSA: No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? BARRY: It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. VANESSA: Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. BARRY: TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! VANESSA: You don't have that? BARRY: We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. VANESSA: Oh, my. (A human walks by and Barry narrowly avoids him) PASSERBY: Dumb bees!

VANESSA: You must want to sting all those jerks. BARRY: We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. VANESSA: So you have to watch your temper (They walk into a store) BARRY: Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, : write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: : Anger, jealousy, lust. (Suddenly an employee(Hector) hits Barry off of Vanessa's shoulder. Hector thinks he's saving Vanessa) VANESSA: (To Barry) Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? (Barry is getting up off the floor) BARRY: Yeah. VANESSA: (To Hector) - What is wrong with you?! HECTOR: (Confused) - It's a bug. VANESSA: He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! (Vanessa hits Hector across the face with the magazine he had and then hits him in the head. Hector backs away covering his head) Barry: What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? (Vanessa sets Barry back on her shoulder) VANESSA: Yeah, it was. How did you know? BARRY: It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. VANESSA: You've really got that down to a science. BARRY: - Oh, we have to. I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. VANESSA: - I'll bet. (Barry looks to his right and notices there is honey for sale in the aisle) BARRY: What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? (Barry looks at all the brands of honey, shocked) How did this get here? Cute Bee, Golden Blossom, : Ray Liotta Private Select? (Barry puts his hands up and slowly turns around, a look of disgust on his face)

VANESSA: - Is he that actor? BARRY: - I never heard of him. : - Why is this here? VANESSA: - For people. We eat it. BARRY: You don't have enough food of your own?! (Hector looks back and notices that Vanessa is talking to Barry) VANESSA: - Well, yes. BARRY: - How do you get it? VANESSA: - Bees make it. BARRY: - I know who makes it! : And it's hard to make it! : There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! VANESSA: - It's organic. BARRY: - It's our-ganic! VANESSA: It's just honey, Barry. BARRY: Just what?! : Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! : You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! : And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. : I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! (Flash forward in time; Barry paints his face with black strikes like a soldier and sneaks into the storage section of the store) (Two men, including Hector, are loading boxes into some trucks) :

SUPERMARKET EMPLOYEE== Hey, Hector. : - You almost done? HECTOR: - Almost. (Barry takes a step to peak around the corner) (Whispering) He is here. I sense it. : Well, I guess I'll go home now (Hector pretends to walk away by walking in place and speaking loudly) : and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. BARRY: You're busted, box boy! HECTOR: I knew I heard something! So you can talk! BARRY: I can talk. And now you'll start talking! : Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? HECTOR: I don't understand. I thought we were friends. : The last thing we want to do is upset bees! (Hector takes a thumbtack out of the board behind him and sword-fights Barry. Barry is using his stinger like a sword) : You're too late! It's ours now! BARRY: You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! HECTOR: You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! (Barry hits the thumbtack out of Hectors hand and Hector surrenders) Barry: Where is the honey coming from? : Tell me where! HECTOR: (Pointing to leaving truck) Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! (Barry chases after the truck but it is getting away. He flies onto a bicyclists' backpack and he catches up to the truck) CAR

DRIVER: (To bicyclist) Crazy person! (Barry flies off and lands on the windshield of the Honey farms truck. Barry looks around and sees dead bugs splattered everywhere) BARRY: What horrible thing has happened here? : These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now : they're on the road to nowhere! (Barry hears a sudden whisper) (Barry looks up and sees Mooseblood, a mosquito playing dead) MOOSEBLOOD: Just keep still. BARRY: What? You're not dead? MOOSEBLOOD: Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? BARRY: To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. MOOSEBLOOD: I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! ANOTHER BUG PLAYING DEAD: I'm going to Tacoma. (Barry looks at another bug) BARRY: - And you? MOOSEBLOOD: - He really is dead. BARRY: All right. (Another bug hits the windshield and the drivers notice. They activate the windshield wipers) MOOSEBLOOD== Uh-oh! (The windshield wipers are slowly sliding over the dead bugs and wiping them off) BARRY: - What is that?! MOOSEBLOOD: - Oh, no! : - A wiper! Triple blade! BARRY: - Triple blade? MOOSEBLOOD: Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! (Mooseblood and Barry grab onto the wiper and they hold on as it wipes the windshield) Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! : How much do you people need to see?! (Bangs on windshield) : Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window!

RADIO IN TRUCK: From NPR News in Washington, I'm Carl Kasell. MOOSEBLOOD: But don't kill no more bugs! (Mooseblood and Barry are washed off by the wipr fluid) MOOSEBLOOD: - Bee! BARRY: - Moose blood guy!! (Barry starts screaming as he hangs onto the antenna) (Suddenly it is revealed that a water bug is also hanging on the antenna. There is a pause and then Barry and the water bug both start screaming) TRUCK DRIVER: - You hear something? GUY IN TRUCK: - Like what? TRUCK DRIVER: Like tiny screaming. GUY IN TRUCK: Turn off the radio. (The antenna starts to lower until it gets to low and sinks into the truck. The water bug flies off and Barry is forced to let go and he is blown away. He luckily lands inside a horn on top of the truck where he finds Mooseblood, who was blown into the same place) MOOSEBLOOD: Whassup, bee boy? BARRY: Hey, Blood. (Fast forward in time and we see that Barry is deep in conversation with Mooseblood. They have been sitting in this truck for a while) BARRY: ...Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. MOOSEBLOOD: Wow! BARRY: I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. : I mean, that honey's ours. MOOSEBLOOD: - Bees hang tight. BARRY: - We're all jammed in. : It's a close community. MOOSEBLOOD: Not us, man. We on our own.Every mosquito on his own. BARRY: - What if you get in trouble?

MOOSEBLOOD: - You a mosquito, you in trouble. : Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! BARRY: At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. MOOSEBLOOD: Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. : Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. (An ambulance passes by and it has a blood donation sign on it) You got to be kidding me! : Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! (Mooseblood leaves and flies onto the window of the ambulance where there are other mosquito's hanging out) : - Hey, guys! OTHER MOSQUITO: - Mooseblood! MOOSEBLOOD: I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? (The truck goes out of view and Barry notices that the truck he's on is pulling into a camp of some sort) TRUCK DRIVER: We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. (Barry flies out) BARRY: What is this place? BEEKEEPER 1#: A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. BEEKEEPER #2: They are pinheads! : Pinhead. : - Check out the new smoker. BEEKEEPER #1: - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. : The Thomas 3000! BARRY: Smoker? BEEKEEPER #1: Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. : A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. BEEKEEPER #2: They make the honey, and we make the money. BARRY: "They make the honey, and we make the money"? (The Beekeeper sprays hundreds of cheap miniature apartments with the smoker. The bees are fainting or passing out) Oh, my! : What's going on? Are you OK? (Barry flies into one of the apartment and helps a Bee couple get off the ground. They are coughing and its hard for them to stand) BEE IN

APARTMENT: Yeah. It doesn't last too long. BARRY: Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? BEE IN APPARTMENT: Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. (The apartment room is completely empty except for a photo on the wall of the "queen" who is obviously a man in women's clothes) BARRY: This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! : That's a drag queen! : What is this? (Barry flies out and he discovers that there are hundreds of these structures, each housing thousands of Bees) 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) 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 BUMBLE: - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. JEANETTE CHUNG: - And I'm Jeanette Chung. BOB

BUMBLE: A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, : intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, : packaging it and profiting from it illegally! JEANETTE CHUNG: 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) KEN: In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! VANESSA: It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. KEN== Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? BARRY: (To Ken) Quiet, please. Actual work going on here.

KEN: (Pointing at Barry) - Is that that same bee? VANESSA: - Yes, it is! : I'm helping him sue the human race. BARRY: - Hello. KEN: - Hello, bee. VANESSA: This is Ken. BARRY: (Recalling the "Winter Boots" incident earlier) Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. KEN: (To Vanessa) Why does he talk again? VANESSA: Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. KEN: But it's our yogurt night! VANESSA: (Holding door open for Ken) Bye-bye. KEN: (Yelling) Why is yogurt night so difficult?! (Ken leaves and Vanessa walks over to Barry. His workplace is a mess) VANESSA: You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! BARRY: Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. ADAM: - Frosting... - How many sugars? ==BARRY== Just one. I try not to use the competition. : So why are you helping me? VANESSA: Bees have good qualities. : And it takes my mind off the shop. : Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. BARRY: Those are great, if you're three. VANESSA: And artificial flowers. BARRY: - Oh, those just get me psychotic! VANESSA: - Yeah, me too. : BARRY: Bent stingers, pointless pollination. ADAM: Bees must hate those fake things! : Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. : Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. VANESSA: - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. BARRY: - I guess. ADAM: You sure you want to go through with it? BARRY: Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able : to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! (Flash forward in time and we are watching the human news. The camera shows a crowd outside a courthouse) NEWS

REPORTER: It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, : where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, : we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. (We are no longer watching through a news camera) ADAM: What have we gotten into here, Barry? BARRY: It's pretty big, isn't it? ADAM== (Looking at the hundreds of people around the courthouse) I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. BARRY: You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? SECURITY GUARD: Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. (A limousine drives up and a fat man,Layton Montgomery, a honey industry owner gets out and walks past Barry) ADAM: - What's the matter? BARRY: - I don't know, I just got a chill. (Fast forward in time and everyone is in the court) MONTGOMERY: Well, if it isn't the bee team. (To Honey Industry lawyers) You boys work on this? MAN: All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. JUDGE

BUMBLETON: All right. Case number 4475, : Superior Court of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry : is now in session. : Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? MONTGOMERY: A privilege. JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? (Everyone looks closely, they are waiting to see if a Bee can really talk) (Barry makes several buzzing sounds to sound like a Bee) BARRY: I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. JUDGE BUMBLBETON: Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. MONTGOMERY: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, : my grandmother was a simple woman. : Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right : to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. : If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, : just think of what would it mean. : I would have to negotiate with the silkworm : for the elastic in my britches! : Talking bee! (Montgomery walks over and looks closely at Barry) : How do we know this isn't some sort of : holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? : They could be using laser beams! : Robotics! Ventriloquism! Cloning! For all we know, : he could be on steroids! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Benson? BARRY: Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. : I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. : It's important to all bees. We invented it! : We make it. And we protect it with our lives. : Unfortunately, there are some people in this room : who think they can take it from us : 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, : you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have : but everything we are! JANET== (To Martin) I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Call your first witness. BARRY: So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. KLAUSS

VANDERHAYDEN: I suppose so. BARRY: I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! KLAUSS: Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. BARRY: Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. : I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? KLAUSS: (Quietly) - No. BARRY: - I couldn't hear you. KLAUSS: - No. BARRY: - No. : Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, : it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. KLAUSS: They're very lovable creatures. : Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. BARRY: You mean like this? (The bear from Over The Hedge barges in through the back door and it is roaring and standing on its hind legs. It is thrashing its claws and people are screaming. It is being held back by a guard who has the bear on a chain) : (Pointing to the roaring bear) Bears kill bees! : How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! : Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! JUDGE BUMBLETON: OK, that's enough. Take him away. (The bear stops roaring and thrashing and walks out) BARRY: So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. : - Where have I heard it before? MR. STING: - I was with a band called The Police. BARRY: But you've never been a police officer, have you? STING: No, I haven't. BARRY: No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example : of bee culture casually stolen by a human : for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. STING: Oh, please. BARRY: Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? : Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. : Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! MONTGOMERY: That's not his real name?! You idiots!

BARRY: Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on : your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. RAY LIOTTA: Thank you. Thank you. BARRY: I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome : with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. RAY LIOTTA: I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? BARRY: Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? : Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't : have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? RAY LIOTTA: Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! BARRY: This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! (Ray Liotta looses it and tries to grab Barry) RAY LIOTTA: Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! JUDGE BUMBLETON: - Order in this court! RAY LIOTTA: - You're all thinking it! (Judge Bumbleton starts banging her gavel) JUDGE BUMBLETON: Order! Order, I say! RAY LIOTTA: - Say it! MAN: - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! (We see a montage of magazines which feature the court case) (Flash forward in time and Barry is back home with Vanessa) BARRY: I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. VANESSA: I think the jury's on our side. BARRY: Are we doing everything right,you know, legally? VANESSA: I'm a florist. BARRY: Right. Well, here's to a great team. VANESSA: To a great team! (Ken walks in from work. He sees Barry and he looks upset when he sees Barry clinking his glass with Vanessa) KEN: Well, hello. VANESSA: - Oh, Ken! BARRY: - Hello! VANESSA: I didn't think you were coming. : No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... (Ken holds up his phone and flips it open. The phone has no charge) ...the battery... VANESSA: I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. KEN: Oh, that was lucky. (Ken sits down at the table across from Barry and Vanessa leaves the room)

VANESSA: There's a little left. I could heat it up. KEN: (Not taking his eyes off Barry) Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. BARRY: So I hear you're quite a tennis player. : I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. KEN: That's where I usually sit. Right... (Points to where Barry is sitting) there. VANESSA: (Calling from other room) Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, : and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. KEN: (To Barry) You think I don't see what you're doing? BARRY: I know how hard it is to find the right job. We have that in common. KEN: Do we? BARRY: Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. KEN: (Menacingly) That's just what I was thinking about doing. (Ken reaches for a fork on the table but knocks if on the floor. He goes to pick it up) VANESSA: Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. (Ken quickly rises back up after hearing this but hits his head on the table and yells) BARRY: I'm going to drain the old stinger. KEN: Yeah, you do that. (Barry flies past Ken to get to the bathroom and Ken freaks out, splashing some of the wine he was using to cool his head in his eyes. He yells in anger) (Barry looks at the magazines featuring his victories in court) BARRY: Look at that. (Barry flies into the bathroom) (He puts his hand on his head but this makes hurts him and makes him even madder. He yells again) (Barry is washing his hands in the sink but then Ken walks in) KEN: You know, you know I've just about had it (Closes bathroom door behind him) with your little mind games. (Ken is menacingly rolling up a magazine) BARRY: (Backing away) - What's that? KEN: - Italian Vogue.

BARRY: Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. KEN: It's a lot of ads. BARRY: Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? KEN: That's funny, I just can't seem to recall that! (Ken smashes everything off the sink with the magazine and Barry narrowly escapes) (Ken follows Barry around and tries to hit him with the magazine but he keeps missing) (Ken gets a spray bottle) : I think something stinks in here! BARRY: (Enjoying the spray) I love the smell of flowers. (Ken holds a lighter in front of the spray bottle) KEN: How do you like the smell of flames?! BARRY: Not as much. (Ken fires his make-shift flamethrower but misses Barry, burning the bathroom. He torches the whole room but looses his footing and falls into the bathtub. After getting hit in the head by falling objects 3 times he picks up the shower head, revealing a Water bug hiding under it) WATER BUG: Water bug! Not taking sides! (Barry gets up out of a pile of bathroom supplies and he is wearing a chapstick hat) BARRY: Ken, I'm wearing a Chapstick hat! This is pathetic! (Ken switches the shower head to lethal) KEN: I've got issues! (Ken sprays Barry with the shower head and he crash lands into the toilet) (Ken menacingly looks down into the toilet at Barry) Well, well, well, a royal flush!

BARRY: - You're bluffing. KEN: - Am I? (flushes toilet) (Barry grabs a chapstick from the toilet seat and uses it to surf in the flushing toilet) BARRY: Surf's up, dude! (Barry flies out of the toilet on the chapstick and sprays Ken's face with the toilet water) : EW,Poo water! BARRY: That bowl is gnarly. KEN: (Aiming a toilet cleaner at Barry) Except for those dirty yellow rings! (Barry cowers and covers his head and Vanessa runs in and takes the toilet cleaner from Ken just before he hits Barry) VANESSA: Kenneth! What are you doing?! KEN== (Leaning towards Barry) You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! VANESSA: We need to talk! (Vanessa pulls Ken out of the bathroom) : He's just a little bee! : And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! KEN: Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? VANESSA: No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! KEN: Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... : My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! VANESSA: Goodbye, Ken. (Ken huffs and walks out and slams the door. But suddenly he walks back in and stares at Barry) : And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners MADE BY MAN! (Ken leaves again and Vanessa leans in towards Barry)

VANESSA: I'm sorry about all that. (Ken walks back in again) KEN: I know it's got an aftertaste! I LIKE IT! (Ken leaves for the last time) VANESSA: I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. : I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. : Are you OK for the trial? BARRY: I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. (Flash forward in time and Barry, Adam, and Vanessa are back in court) MONTGOMERY-- We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. ADAM: Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... (Barry stares at Adam) ...Yeah. LAWYER: Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. MONTGOMERY: Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around : is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. (To lawyer) - You got the tweezers? LAWYER: - Are you allergic? MONTGOMERY: Only to losing, son. Only to losing. : Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. : What exactly is your relationship (Points to Vanessa) : to that woman? BARRY: We're friends. MONTGOMERY: - Good friends? BARRY: - Yes.

MONTGOMERY: How good? Do you live together? ADAM: Wait a minute... : MONTGOMERY: Are you her little... : ...bedbug? (Adam's stinger starts vibrating. He is agitated) I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, : doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? BARRY: - Yeah, but... MONTGOMERY: (Pointing at Janet and Martin) - So those aren't your real parents! JANET: - Oh, Barry... BARRY: - Yes, they are! ADAM: Hold me back! (Vanessa tries to hold Adam back. He wants to sting Montgomery) MONTGOMERY: You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? ADAM: He's denouncing bees! MONTGOMERY: Don't y'all date your cousins? (Montgomery leans over on the jury stand and stares at Adam) VANESSA: - Objection! (Vanessa raises her hand to object but Adam gets free. He flies straight at Montgomery) =ADAM: - I'm going to pincushion this guy! BARRY: Adam, don't! It's what he wants! (Adam stings Montgomery in the butt and he starts thrashing around) MONTGOMERY: Oh, I'm hit!! : Oh, lordy, I am hit! JUDGE

BUMBLETON: (Banging gavel) Order! Order! MONTGOMERY: (Overreacting) The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! : I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! : You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! : Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! BARRY: - Adam, stay with me. ADAM: - I can't feel my legs. MONTGOMERY: (Overreacting and throwing his body around the room) What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison : from my heaving buttocks? JUDGE BUMLBETON: I will have order in this court. Order! : Order, please! (Flash forward in time and we see a human news reporter) NEWS REPORTER: The case of the honeybees versus the human race : took a pointed turn against the bees : yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. (Adam is laying in a hospital bed and Barry flies in to see him) BARRY: - Hey, buddy. ADAM: - Hey.

BARRY: - Is there much pain? ADAM: - Yeah. : I... : I blew the whole case, didn't I? BARRY: It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. ADAM: I'd be better off dead. Look at me. (A small plastic sword is replaced as Adam's stinger) They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. : Look, there's a little celery still on it. (Flicks off the celery and sighs) BARRY: What was it like to sting someone? ADAM: I can't explain it. It was all... : All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! BARRY: ...All right. ADAM: You think it was all a trap? BARRY: Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. : What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. ADAM: What will the humans do to us if they win? BARRY: I don't know. ADAM: I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. BARRY: Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! ADAM: Oh, my. (Coughs) Could you get a nurse to close that window? BARRY: - Why? ADAM: - The smoke. (We can see that two humans are smoking cigarettes outside) : Bees don't smoke.

BARRY: Right. Bees don't smoke. : Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. : That's it! That's our case! ADAM: It is? It's not over? BARRY: Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. : Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. (Flash forward in time and Adam is making a paper boat in the courtroom) ADAM: And assuming you've done step 29 correctly, you're ready for the tub! (We see that the jury have each made their own paper boats after being taught how by Adam. They all look confused) JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Flayman.

ADAM: Yes? Yes, Your Honor! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Where is the rest of your team? ADAM: (Continues stalling) Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. : Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, : and as a result, we don't make very good time. : I actually heard a funny story about... MONTGOMERY: Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs : taken up enough of this court's valuable time? : How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? : They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges : against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. : I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case!

JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going : to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. ADAM: But you can't! We have a terrific case. MONTGOMERY: Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? : Show me the smoking gun! BARRY: (Barry flies in through the door) Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? : Here is your smoking gun. (Vanessa walks in holding a bee smoker. She sets it down on the Judge's podium) JUDGE BUMBLETON: What is that? BARRY: It's a bee smoker!

MONTGOMERY: (Picks up smoker) What, this? This harmless little contraption? : This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. (Montgomery accidentally fires it at the bees in the crowd and they faint and cough) (Dozens of reporters start taking pictures of the suffering bees) BARRY: Look at what has happened : to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" : Is this what nature intended for us? : To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines : and man-made wooden slat work camps? : Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? (Barry points to the honey industry owners. One of them is an African American so he awkwardly separates himself from the others) LAWYER: - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. BARRY: Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! ADAM AND VANESSA: Free the bees! Free the bees! BEES IN CROWD: Free the bees! HUMAN JURY: Free the bees! Free the bees! JUDGE BUMBLETON: The court finds in favor of the bees! BARRY: Vanessa, we won! VANESSA: I knew you could do it! High-five! (Vanessa hits Barry hard because her hand is too big) : Sorry. BARRY: (Overjoyed) I'm OK! You know what this means? : All the honey will finally belong to the bees. : Now we won't have to work so hard all the time.

MONTGOMERY: This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. : You'll regret this. (Montgomery leaves and Barry goes outside the courtroom. Several reporters start asking Barry questions) REPORTER 1#: Barry, how much honey is out there? BARRY: All right. One at a time. REPORTER 2#: Barry, who are you wearing? BARRY: My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. (Barry flies outside with the paparazzi and Adam and Vanessa stay back) ADAM: (To Vanessa) - What if Montgomery's right? Vanessa: - What do you mean? ADAM: We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. (Flash forward in time and Barry is talking to a man) BUSINESS MAN: Congratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement?

BARRY: First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. (As Barry is talking we see a montage of men putting "closed" tape over the work camps and freeing the bees in the crappy apartments) Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, : every last drop. (Men in suits are pushing all the honey of the aisle and into carts) We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more (We see a statue of a bear-shaped honey container being pulled down by bees) than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. : We're all aware of what they do in the woods. (We see Winnie the Pooh sharing his honey with Piglet in the cross-hairs of a high-tech sniper rifle)

BARRY: (Looking through binoculars) Wait for my signal. : Take him out. (Winnie gets hit by a tranquilizer dart and dramatically falls off the log he was standing on, his tongue hanging out. Piglet looks at Pooh in fear and the Sniper takes the honey.) SNIPER: He'll have nausea for a few hours, then he'll be fine. (Flash forward in time) BARRY: And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... (Mr. Sting is sitting at home until he is taken out of his house by the men in suits) STING: But it's just a prance-about stage name! BARRY: ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products : and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. (An old lady is mixing honey into her tea but suddenly men in suits smash her face down on the table and take the honey)

OLD LADY: Can't breathe. (A honey truck pulls up to Barry's hive) WORKER: Bring it in, boys! : Hold it right there! Good. : Tap it. (Tons of honey is being pumped into the hive's storage) BEE WORKER 1#: (Honey overflows from the cup) Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! : - I think we need to shut down! =BEE WORKER #2= - Shut down? We've never shut down. : Shut down honey production! DEAN BUZZWELL: Stop making honey! (The bees all leave their stations. Two bees run into a room and they put the keys into a machine) Turn your key, sir! (Two worker bees dramatically turn their keys, which opens the button which they press, shutting down the honey-making machines.

This is the first time this has ever happened) BEE: ...What do we do now? (Flash forward in time and a Bee is about to jump into a pool full of honey) Cannonball! (The bee gets stuck in the honey and we get a short montage of Bees leaving work) (We see the Pollen Jocks flying but one of them gets a call on his antenna) LOU LU DUVA: (Through "phone") We're shutting honey production! : Mission abort. POLLEN JOCK #1: Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. (The Pollen Jocks fly back to the hive) (We get a time lapse of Central Park slowly wilting away as the bees all relax) BARRY: Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. ADAM: Oh, yeah?

BARRY: What's going on? Where is everybody? (The entire street is deserted) : - Are they out celebrating? ADAM: - They're home. : They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. : I heard your Uncle Carl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. BARRY: At least we got our honey back. ADAM: Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? : It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. : This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. : And now... : Now I can't. (Flash forward in time and Barry is talking to Vanessa) BARRY: I don't understand why they're not happy. : I thought their lives would be better! : They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people.

VANESSA: You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? BARRY: - What did you want to show me? (Vanessa takes Barry to the rooftop where they first had coffee and points to her store) VANESSA: - This. (Points at her flowers. They are all grey and wilting) BARRY: What happened here? VANESSA: That is not the half of it. (Small flash forward in time and Vanessa and Barry are on the roof of her store and she points to Central Park) (We see that Central Park is no longer green and colorful, rather it is grey, brown, and dead-like. It is very depressing to look at) BARRY: Oh, no. Oh, my. : They're all wilting. VANESSA: Doesn't look very good, does it? BARRY: No. VANESSA: And whose fault do you think that is? BARRY: You know, I'm gonna guess bees. VANESSA== (Staring at Barry) Bees? BARRY: Specifically, me. : I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. VANESSA: It's not just flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. BARRY: That's our whole SAT test right there.

VANESSA: Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. : And then, of course... BARRY: The human species? : So if there's no more pollination, : it could all just go south here, couldn't it? VANESSA: I know this is also partly my fault. BARRY: How about a suicide pact? VANESSA: How do we do it? BARRY: - I'll sting you, you step on me. VANESSA: - That just kills you twice. BARRY: Right, right. VANESSA: Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. (Vanessa leaves) BARRY: (To himself) I had to open my mouth and talk. : Vanessa? : Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? (Vanessa is getting into a taxi) VANESSA: To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. : They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. : It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it.

BARRY: Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. VANESSA: I know. Me neither. (The taxi starts to drive away) BARRY: Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. : Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? : Roses! : Vanessa! (Barry flies after the Taxi) VANESSA: Roses?! : Barry? (Barry is flying outside the window of the taxi) BARRY: - Roses are flowers! VANESSA: - Yes, they are. BARRY: Flowers, bees, pollen! VANESSA: I know. That's why this is the last parade. BARRY: Maybe not. Could you ask him to slow down? VANESSA: Could you slow down? (The taxi driver screeches to a stop and Barry keeps flying forward) : Barry! (Barry flies back to the window) BARRY: OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. VANESSA: Yes, it kind of is. BARRY: I've ruined the planet.

I wanted to help you : with the flower shop. I've made it worse. VANESSA: Actually, it's completely closed down. BARRY: I thought maybe you were remodeling. : But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. VANESSA: I don't want to hear it! BARRY: All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. : I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. : All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. : - Bees. VANESSA: - Park. BARRY: - Pollen! VANESSA: - Flowers. BARRY: - Re-pollination! VANESSA: - Across the nation! : Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. : They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. : Security will be tight. BARRY: I have an idea. (Flash forward in time. Vanessa is about to board a plane which has all the Roses on board. VANESSA: Vanessa Bloome, FTD. (Holds out badge) : Official floral business. It's real. SECURITY

GUARD: Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. =VANESSA== Thank you. It was a gift. (Barry is revealed to be hiding inside the brooch) (Flash back in time and Barry and Vanessa are discussing their plan) BARRY: Once inside, we just pick the right float. VANESSA: How about The Princess and the Pea? : I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! BARRY: Yes, I got it. : - Where should I sit? GUARD: - What are you? BARRY: - I believe I'm the pea. GUARD: - The pea? VANESSA: It goes under the mattresses. GUARD: - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. VANESSA: You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! : Let's see what this baby'll do. (Vanessa drives the float through traffic) GUARD: Hey, what are you doing?! BARRY== Then all we do is blend in with traffic... : ...without arousing suspicion. : Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. (Flash forward in time and Barry and Vanessa are about to get on a plane) SECURITY GUARD: Stop! Security. : - You and your insect pack your float? VANESSA: - Yes. SECURITY GUARD: Has it been in your possession the entire time? VANESSA: - Yes. SECURITY GUARD: Would you remove your shoes? (To Barry) - Remove your stinger. BARRY: - It's part of me. SECURITY GUARD: I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. (Barry plotting with Vanessa) BARRY: Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. (Flash forward in time and Barry and Vanessa are flying on the plane) Can you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! VANESSA: I think this is gonna work. BARRY: It's got to work.

CAPTAIN SCOTT: (On intercom) Attention, passengers, this is Captain Scott. : We have a bit of bad weather in New York. : It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. VANESSA: Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. BARRY: I gotta get up there and talk to them. VANESSA== Be careful. (Barry flies right outside the cockpit door) BARRY: Can I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. (The flight attendant opens the door and walks out and Barry flies into the cockpit unseen) BARRY: Captain, I'm in a real situation. CAPTAIN SCOTT: - What'd you say, Hal? CO-PILOT HAL: - Nothing. (Scott notices Barry and freaks out) CAPTAIN SCOTT: Bee! BARRY: No,no,no, Don't freak out! My entire species... (Captain Scott gets out of his seat and tries to suck Barry into a handheld vacuum)

HAL: (To Scott) What are you doing? (Barry lands on Hals hair but Scott sees him. He tries to suck up Barry but instead he sucks up Hals toupee) CAPTAIN SCOTT: Uh-oh. BARRY: - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! HAL: (Hal doesn't know Barry is on his head) - Who's an attorney? CAPTAIN SCOTT: Don't move. (Scott hits Hal in the face with the vacuum in an attempt to hit Barry. Hal is knocked out and he falls on the life raft button which launches an infalatable boat into Scott, who gets knocked out and falls to the floor. They are both uncounscious.) BARRY: (To himself) Oh, Barry. BARRY: (On intercom, with a Southern accent) Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. : Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? (Vanessa looks confused) (Normal accent) ...And please hurry! (Vanessa opens the door and sees the life raft and the uncounscious pilots) VANESSA: What happened here? BARRY: I tried to talk to them, but then there was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. : Now one's bald, one's in a boat, and they're both unconscious!

VANESSA: ...Is that another bee joke? BARRY: - No! : No one's flying the plane! BUD DITCHWATER: (Through radio on plane) This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? VANESSA: This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. BUD: Where's the pilot? VANESSA: He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. BUD: Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? BARRY: As a matter of fact, there is. BUD: - Who's that? BARRY: - Barry Benson. BUD: From the honey trial?! Oh, great. BARRY: Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. : It's got giant wings, huge engines. VANESSA: I can't fly a plane. BARRY: - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? VANESSA: - Yes. BARRY: How hard could it be? (Vanessa sits down and flies for a little bit but we see lightning clouds outside the window) VANESSA: Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. (An ominous lightning storm looms in front of the plane) (We are now watching the Bee News) BOB BUMBLE: This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, : where a suspenseful scene is developing. : Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory...

ADAM: That's Barry! BOB BUMBLE: ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers : and an incapacitated flight crew. JANET, MARTIN, UNCLE CAR AND ADAM: Flowers?! (The scene switches to the human news) REPORTER: (Talking with Bob Bumble) We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls : with absolutely no flight experience. BOB BUMBLE: Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. BUD: I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. : They've done enough damage. REPORTER: But isn't he your only hope? BUD: Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. : Their wings are too small... BARRY: (Through radio) Haven't we heard this a million times? : "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense."... BOB BUMBLE: - Get this on the air!

BEE: - Got it. BEE NEWS CREW: - Stand by. BEE NEWS CREW: - We're going live! BARRY: (Through radio on TV) ...The way we work may be a mystery to you. : Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. : But let me tell you about a small job. : If you do it well, it makes a big difference. : More than we realized. To us, to everyone. : That's why I want to get bees back to working together. : That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. : We get behind a fellow. : - Black and yellow! BEES: - Hello! (The scene switches and Barry is teaching Vanessa how to fly) BARRY: Left, right, down, hover. VANESSA: - Hover? BARRY: - Forget hover. VANESSA: This isn't so hard. (Pretending to honk the horn) Beep-beep! Beep-beep! (A Lightning bolt hits the plane and autopilot turns off) Barry, what happened?! BARRY: Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time.

VANESSA: - That may have been helping me. BARRY: - And now we're not! VANESSA: So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. (The plane plummets but we see Lou Lu Duva and the Pollen Jocks, along with multiple other bees flying towards the plane) Lou Lu DUva: All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! : Move out! (The scene switches back to Vanessa and Barry in the plane) BARRY: Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! (Barry sticks out his arms like an airplane and flys in front of Vanessa's face) VANESSA: Don't have to yell. BARRY: I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. VANESSA: It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! BARRY: It's not a tone. I'm panicking! VANESSA: I can't do this! (Barry slaps Vanessa) BARRY: Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! VANESSA: (Slaps Barry) You snap out of it. BARRY: (Slaps Vanessa) : You snap out of it.

VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! (We see that all the Pollen Jocks are flying under the plane) VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! VANESSA: - Hold it! BARRY: - Why? Come on, it's my turn. VANESSA: How is the plane flying? (The plane is now safely flying) VANESSA: I don't know. (Barry's antennae rings like a phone. Barry picks up) BARRY: Hello? LOU LU DUVA: (Through "phone") Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? (All of the Pollen Jocks are carrying the plane) BARRY: The Pollen Jocks! : They do get behind a fellow. LOU LU DUVA: - Black and yellow. POLLEN JOCKS: - Hello. LOU LU DUVA: All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. BARRY: Where? I can't see anything. Can you? VANESSA: No, nothing. It's all cloudy. : Come on. You got to think bee, Barry.

BARRY: - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. (On the runway there are millions of bees laying on their backs) BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! BARRY: Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. VANESSA: - What? BARRY: - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. : Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. : Bring the nose down. BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! CONTROL TOWER OPERATOR: - What in the world is on the tarmac? BUD: - Get some lights on that! (It is revealed that all the bees are organized into a giant pulsating flower formation) BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! BARRY: - Vanessa, aim for the flower. VANESSA: - OK. BARRY: Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys?

LOU LU DUVA: Affirmative! BARRY: Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. : Land on that flower! : Ready? Full reverse! : Spin it around! (The plane's nose is pointed at a flower painted on a nearby plane) - Not that flower! The other one! VANESSA: - Which one? BARRY: - That flower. (The plane is now pointed at a fat guy in a flowered shirt. He freaks out and tries to take a picture of the plane) VANESSA: - I'm aiming at the flower! BARRY: That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! (The plane hovers over the bee-flower) : Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. : Rotate around it. VANESSA: - This is insane, Barry! BARRY: - This's the only way I know how to fly. BUD: Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? (The plane is unrealistically hovering and spinning over the bee-flower) BARRY: Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! : Just drop it. Be a part of it. : Aim for the center! : Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! : Come on, already.

(The bees scatter and the plane safely lands) VANESSA: Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! BARRY: - Yes! (Vanessa is about to high-five Barry) No high-five! VANESSA: - Right. ADAM: Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? BARRY: What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! ADAM: - Thank you. BARRY: - But we're not done yet. : Listen, everyone! : This runway is covered with the last pollen : from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. : That means this is our last chance. : We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. : If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? : Are we going to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains? BEES: We're bees! BEE WHO LIKES KEYCHAINS: Keychain!

BARRY: Then follow me! Except Keychain. POLLEN JOCK #1: Hold on, Barry. Here. : You've earned this. BARRY: Yeah! : I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. (The Pollen Jocks throw Barry a nectar-collecting gun. Barry catches it) Oh, yeah. JANET: That's our Barry. (Barry and the Pollen Jocks get pollen from the flowers on the plane) (Flash forward in time and the Pollen Jocks are flying over NYC) : (Barry pollinates the flowers in Vanessa's shop and then heads to Central Park) BOY IN PARK: Mom! The bees are back! ADAM: (Putting on his Krelman hat) If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. : I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! (The bee honey factories are back up and running) (Meanwhile at Vanessa's shop) VANESSA: (To customer) Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Can I help who's next? : Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. (There is a room in the shop where Barry does legal work for other animals. He is currently talking with a Cow) COW: Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! : Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! BARRY: I had no idea. VANESSA: Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment?

BARRY: Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. MOOSE BLOOD: Sorry I'm late. COW: He's a lawyer too? MOOSE BLOOD: Ma'am, I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. VANESSA: Have a great afternoon! : Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. BARRY: No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. VANESSA: You're a lifesaver, Barry. Can I help who's next? BARRY: All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. VANESSA: Thank you, Barry! (Ken walks by on the sidewalk and sees the "bee-approved honey" in Vanessa's shop) KEN: That bee is living my life!! ANDY: Let it go, Kenny. KEN: - When will this nightmare end?! ANDY: - Let it all go. BARRY: - Beautiful day to fly.

POLLEN JOCK: - Sure is. BARRY: Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. (Barry recreates the scene near the beginning of the movie where he flies through the box kite. The movie fades to black and the credits being) [--after credits; No scene can be seen but the characters can be heard talking over the credits--] You have got to start thinking bee, my friend! : - Thinking bee! - Me? BARRY: (Talking over singer) Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. : I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Can we stop here? SINGER: Oh, BarryBARRY: I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! SINGER: All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. BARRY: I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

i hope your bloodline suffers with hell for the next 7 generations

words can not describe how much i spite you right now for sending this to me and allowing this to happen

and yes i did read a good chunk of this for funsies :D

(also everyone should reblog this to piss of any moots that come across this)

[the-disemvoweler]

coward.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry.

Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary.

Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman.

What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees.

We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out.

Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! -

I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing.

You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer?

No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman?

Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die!

You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check.

Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic.

That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him?

I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans.

I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure!

There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say?

I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess.

"Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Oan I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church.

The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it?

You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me?

Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? -

Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s!

One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee?

How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything?

All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane!

You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here?

For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier?

I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no!

A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours.

Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead.

Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey?

That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt.

No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"?

Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee?

Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit.

This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding.

All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson?

Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you.

No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005.

Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left.

I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that?

Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them!

Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends?

Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection!

I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain?

Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over?

Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence?

Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps,?

Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal.

Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody?

Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me?

This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry?

Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got.

Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. -

The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job.

Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke?

No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres.

They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep!

Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!

You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance.

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

:3

Absolutely not