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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · a month ago
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Pogues over Kooks | JJ Maybank x reader
Requested by anon / Summary: You’re a kook and protect JJ from the other kooks. However, your fellow kook friends don’t take to kindly to your protection for the pogue. 
A/N: I think I changed up the request a little, because it didn’t flow with what i had written, I hope that’s okay! xx also i think this is kinda cheesy and sucks but whatever. 
Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx
Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912
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Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}
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!warning: this is probably so cheesy and sucks so just beware.
“What the hell are they doing here?” Topper scoffs at the sight of the HMS pogue floating in the distance. “This isn’t their area.” 
You roll your eyes from behind your sunglasses. He always had such a stick up his ass, like everyone is to bow down to him. Most kooks had that mind set. 
The pogues aboard the HMS pogue, turn at the sound of an incoming boat and groan when they see it’s Topper and some other kooks. JJ immediately recognizes you in the very front. 
“Great. Just great.” Pope says at the sight, worried another fight could break out. 
“Topper, this is public waters.” You comment, turning around in your seat to look at him, “They can be here.”
“This is the kooks side of the island. Our side.” He slows the boat down as he approaches the HMS pogue. 
“What the hell are you guys doing on this side of the island?” Ben, a fellow kook says, “This isn’t a place for a pogue.” 
“Having trouble with the engine.” JJ mutters, standing and wiping his hands on the rag, his hands and the rag blackened with oil. “Care to help us out and give us a tow?” 
The kooks erupted in laughter, “yeah right. You’re on your own, pogue. This is a $24,000 boat.” Topper says. 
“Maybe they’ll die out here and we’ll never have to deal with them again.” another says, more laughter ensuing. 
You abruptly turn to look at the kooks, yanking the sunglasses off your face, “What the hell is wrong with you guys?” 
“uh oh, is little kook princess wanting to help out the needy?” Topper asks, “Is this another one of your extra curricular activities?” 
“Oh bite me Topper. They obviously need help and we can tow them in.” You stand, opening the seat to grab a rope in the storage. 
Topper roughly grabs your arm, stopping you, “this is a $24,000 boat. You think I’m going to mess it up by towing that piece of shit?” 
JJ doesn’t miss the wince on your face when Topper grabs your arm and he comes closer to the edge of the boat, ready to step in if needed. 
“Topper, take your hand off me.” You warn. 
He finally lets go and JJ can see a shadow of the mark on your arm, “They can die out here for all I care.” He spits, throwing a look to the pogues. 
“Topper, come on seriously, don’t be a dick. Doesn’t your mom have insurance on this thing? We can call it in and they can tow their boat in for us. How about that?” 
“I told you, I”m not helping them.” He returns to his throne at the driver’s seat, starting the boat up. 
“Topper we can’t leave them!” 
“You want to stay with them so badly, then you can. You’ve always been a softy for the pogues.” He rolls his eyes, “Always coming to their rescue. You whoring around on me? Sleeping with one of them?” 
“dude, chill out!” JJ finally speaks up, “don’t worry about it.” He directs it to you, “We’ll find a way in. No biggie.” 
“No. I’m not leaving you guys out here.”
“Then get the hell off my boat, you pogue sympathizer.” Topper points to the boat, “Just know you and I are over.” 
“Topper, we never were a thing.” You turn to JJ as you step up onto the seat of the front of the boat to step in and both of you share a smile. 
JJ holds his hand out to you, “Come on aboard.” 
As soon as you put your hand into JJ’s and take that step, Topper gives the boat some gas, and sends you stumbling into JJ. He was lucky you were almost in the HMS pogue when he did it or else you’d been launched into the water. 
“Jesus Topper!” JJ yells out, catching you, “You could have killed her!” He calls out to the disappearing boat where Topper sends up the finger. 
“God I hate him.” You groan. 
“you alright?” JJ asks, “He could have killed you. It’s not even funny to mess around like that.” 
You wave him off, “I’m fine. Thank you.” 
“Well, welcome aboard the HMS Pogue.” John B says with open arms, “unfortunately it only floats right now.” 
You laugh and nod, “Well, let’s see if we can fix it?” You put your bag down and pull your hair back so it’s out of your face and get on your knees in front of the engine. 
“We’ve already checked it over.” Pope says. 
“You’re going to get your hands dirty-” JJ starts, but you’ve already dug into the motor, messing with a few things. 
JJ looks to the other pogues in surprise, a kook getting her hands dirty? The rest of the pogues shrug. 
JJ gets on his knees next to you, “We’ve already check that-” 
“Try it now.” You sit back on your knees, squinting up at John B.  John B shares a look at JJ and then starts up the HMS Pogue. It turns over instantly. Everyone on the boat cheers. 
“girl power.” Kie says, walking over to you, “These boys have been at it for the past hour.” 
You shrug and wipe your hands on the rag JJ just offered you, “You obviously missed the loose plug.” 
Pope backhands JJ in the chest, “You said you checked!” 
“Cause I did!” JJ defends. 
You all can’t help but laugh. You were just glad to help. 
“Well, she fixed our boat, stood up to her asshole kook friends. I think this makes her an honorary member of the pogues.” Kie says, looking to the boys, “Anyone against that?” 
The boys shake their heads and JJ bumps shoulders with you, relaying part of the nickname topper called you, “Welcome to the pogues, princess. You’re one of us now.” 
And for some reason, you felt more at home with this gang of fools, than any kook you’d ever been friends with. You fell into their friend group like you’d been there since the beginning.  
“No pogue on pogue macking!” Kie groans as her, John B and Pope approach the HMS pogue, tied to the dock. 
You and JJ pull away from each other, wiping your mouth with a giggle, “technically I’m not a pogue...” 
“Oh you’re a pogue.” JJ says, pulling you back onto his chest, “You’ve had a pogue in-” 
“JJ!” You hit him in the chest to stop him, flushing with embarrassment. The rest of the pogues groan in disgust. 
“You guys are disgusting!” 
“I was only going to say you’ve got a pogue whose head over heels in love with you.” He tries to make up for it, holding his hands out in defense, “That’s all I was gonna say.” 
You shake your head, not believing him one bit, “Yeah right.” Leaning toward his lips, “but I love you too.” 
Obx taglist: @poguestyleskye , @alexa-playafricabytoto , @kaelyn-lobrutto24 , @turtlee-says-rawr , @outrbanks , @k-k0129 , @annedub , @rockyyc77 , @ilovejjmaybank , @treestarrrrrrrr , @thedarkqueenofavalon​ , @write-from-the-heart , @normatural , @kaylinfayezink , @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ , @thelovelydreamer17​ , @chasefreakinstokes​ , @fanficscuziranout​ , @diverrdown​ , @tregua-oca​ , @junkiemuppettxx​ , @afterglowsb-tch13​ , @hardyxlove​ , @cinnamon-roll-seth​ , @copperbadge​er-boom , @dpaccione​ , @ocean-breezq​ , @localserotonindealer​   , @pogueslandia​ , @ssprayberrythings​ , @omgdani17​ , @adoreachilles​ , @freaky-dcaky​
Not able to Tag: @prejudic3 , @lasnaro , @ircnwitch , @lordsagittarius , @themaddies-obx , @weasleysbitch2
JJ Maybank // Rudy Pankow taglist: @popcrone818​ , @coni-martina​ , @pm-my-hubbies​ , @katiaw2​ , @maybebanks​ , @obx-beach​ , @fangirlvoice​ , @teamnick​ , @danicarosaline​ , @losers-club6​ , @bananasfromtarget​ , @rudypankowswife​ , @fratboystark​ , @notmcchkn​  , @ifilwtmfc​ , @bibliophilewednesday​ , @irdkwhatimdoinghere​ , @maybankbby​ , @halobaby​ , @iccyyyybitch​ , @http-cherries​ , @tovvaa​ , @lemur46​ , @goneawaytogallifrey​ , @americaarse​ , @ssprayberrythings​ , @msmarvelknight​ , @skyfallgazingstar​ , @mads-weasley​
Not able to tag: @saltwatercowb0y , @thee-sex , @timotaychalabae , @sataninsatin , @lolitstiana , @mk15x , @lilsiswinchester , @thatweirdblonde
All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @simonsbluee​ , @obxrafejjwhore​ , @abbiesthings​ , @itstaskeen​ , @reniescarlett​ , @liliannna​ , @adoreyou976​ ,
Not able to tag: @mggstyles , @thewolf-and-thesheep
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viking-raider · 5 months ago
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Hoist the Colours - Part I
Summary: Your father is given a governorship of a Caribbean island and you accompany him on the voyage, a new start, for the both of you. But, it doesn’t go as either of you planned, or well.
Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader
Word Count: 8,841
Warning: Pirate!Henry, Fluff, Angst, Mention of death, Violence, Language, Kidnapping, Ransom
Inspiration: It’s Henry and Pirates! I got the idea after watching Pirates of the Caribbean one day!
Author’s Note: I wanted to post something new to treat the fandom. As always, thank you to the lovely @wondersofdreaming​ for helping me along with my stories.
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The room creaked and groaned, swaying back and forth at a quick and nauseating pace, the booms and cracks coming from outside the door were muffled by the thick wood. He pushed you into the corner, panting, sweating and bleeding heavily.
“Henry.” You whimpered, trembling with fright and adrenaline.
“Sshh, it's all right.” He wheezed, breathing labored and sat down on the bed that was in the corner. “Here, look at me, my love.” He said, forcing a smile as he cupped your cheek in his shaking hand, leaving a bloody print with it. “We'll be all right, my sweet. The men are strong and capable, they'll rid the ship of these mongrels.”
“It doesn't seem like it.” You fretted, biting your lip and glancing at the barred door as something very heavy struck it.
Henry chuckled and kissed the corner of your mouth, you could taste the blood from the split on his bottom lip. “We've encountered worse on these seas, I assure you.” He groaned softly. “But, I must tell you, of all the treasures and gold I have plundered in my lifetime as a Pirate, you are the greatest of them all.”
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3rd August 1686
It was a sunny morning in London, the sea air sweeping over the city, keeping it cool as Londoners and it's other residents went about their daily business. You stood on the balcony of your parents' home, taking deep breaths of the sea air and could hear your maid bustling about your room, packing your things for the voyage you and your father would be taking the next day. Your father, Thomas, had been appointed Governor of the newly colonized Lockemirth Island in the Caribbean, and you were to accompany him, with no other prospects for staying in London, and after the death of your mother the year before, he felt the both of you needed a fresh start in the world, and the governorship was that opportunity.
“Miss?” Your maid called, appearing in the balcony doorway.
You turned towards her, lifting a brow. “Yes, Jane?”
“Everything you've asked me to pack has been so.” She informed you, bundling the sides of her skirts and bowing softly to you.
“Thank you, Jane.” You smiled softly at her, saddened that you would be leaving the place that had been home all your life, away from your friends and all the seasonal events that kept London busy.
You doubted there would be such high society events like London's, on a teeny island in the Caribbean, expecting and loathing the boredom and loneliness that would no doubt fill your days there. Sighing and softly closing your eyes for a moment, you stepped back into the house as sweaty movers appeared in your room to collect the crates of the things you would be taking with you on the voyage, and taking them downstairs to the foyer, to later be moved to the storage haul of the HMS Kilmartin.
“Ma'am.” One of the movers tipped the brim of his sweat stained and worn flat hat, as he and the other mover muscled the heavy wooden crate out the double doors of your room.
“Sir.” You nodded your head politely to him, then they were gone, grunting and groaning down the spiral staircase. “I shall miss this place, Jane.” You sighed, sitting down on the edge of your bed and stared out the window. “I heard the island region is prone to hurricanes, that kick up tremendous winds and rain, capable of flattening everything in its wake.”
“Gracious.” Jane gasped, sweeping the dry packing straw that had fallen to the floor, while things were being packed into the crates. “Sounds frightening.”
“It does.” You agreed with her, a knot of fear in your stomach at the thought of being caught in such a storm.
What would you and your father do, if such a storm hit the island whilst you were there? Even worse, what if one happened, while you were still sailing to the island? It would undoubtedly cause the ship to sink, taking you, your father and everyone aboard down with it!
“And the pirates, Miss.” Jane added, after a moment of silence.
“No pirate is stupid enough to attack a ship of His Royal Highness, King James II.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at her. “It would be a grave mistake on their part, the King doesn't suffer pirates, nor does my father for that matter. It's part of the reason he was appointed Governor of the island, to prevent pirates from getting their greedy and filthy hands on it.”
“Like they did with Nassau.”
“Of course.” Jane nodded, shyly.
You sighed again, but deep down you were concerned about the pirates, your father had mentioned only the night before that one of the royal ships had been attacked and boarded by pirates on their way to Port Royal. They had taken most of the cargo and killed several of the crew members, before finally returning to their own ship and vanishing on the horizon. You tried to soothe your own fears by repeating the same you told Jane inside your mind, that no pirate would attack a royal ship. But, it barely eased that fear and anxiety.
If anything, it made it worse.
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The next day, Jane woke you earlier than usual and helped you dress, before you went downstairs for one more breakfast in the house. Your father was already sitting at the table, a steaming cup in front of him and the daily newspaper in his hand. He set it down as you entered the room, standing to greet you with a smile and gently kiss your cheek, before you took your seat at the table and Jane laid out your breakfast before you.
“Thank you.” You smiled at her, picking up a fork.
“Are you ready for our voyage, my dear?” Your father asked, sipping his tea and regarding you over its rim.
“As I can be, father.” You replied, picking up your own cup of tea. “How long will it take?”
“With good weather and wind, hopefully no longer than seven weeks.” He informed you, setting his cup down on its little saucer. “With terrible weather, it could be as long as three months.”
“Let's hope it is the former, instead of the latter, then, shall we?” You smiled over at him, nervously.
“Don't worry about the journey, my sweet petal.” He said, smiling at you in a way parents did, when they were trying to be reassuring, while also hiding their own fears and worry.
“All will be well.”
You didn't argue with him.
Besides, your father had far more sailing experience than you did. He had once been a member of His Royal Majesty's, King Charles I's Royal Navy, reaching the rank of Captain, before meeting your mother, retiring and trying his hand in politics, quite successfully, at that. You on the other hand, had never been on a boat, unless you counted the little rowboat James Turner took you in to cross a small river to a picnic spot he had set up for you, during last year's social season, with Jane as chaperon. You had wondered then, as he half struggled to row the vessel, why you were doing so, when there was a small, and perfectly useful, foot bridge not ten meters away from the small dock he had pushed off from.
But, just like now, you didn't argue or question it, he wanted to be romantic, and your father was trying to be protective and reassuring.
Your father took his pocket watch out, the highly polished gold cover popping open, its soft ticks reached you as he frowned down at it, then snapped it shut again and tucked it back into his pocket. Heaving a sigh, he downed the rest of his cooled tea, neatly folded his half read newspaper and rested back against his chair, quietly regarding you across the table, while you finished your breakfast.
“Edward, have the carriage readied, we must leave in no more than twenty minutes.” He called out to his servant, before rising to his feet.
He bowed politely to you and left the room, you knew where he was going, to your mother's rooms. Your father had shut up her rooms the day of her funeral, not wanting a single item inside to be disturbed out of the places she had put them in. She had been sick for some time, but in the last month of her life, she had gotten far worse. Your father employed every respectable doctor London had, even the physician the King himself used. But, all of them had a different diagnosis and treatment for what supposedly ailed her, and none of them worked, most of them only made her worse. So, she wasted away until there was nothing left of her, but skin and bones, and she passed away. Your father was understandably distraught and brokenhearted by her death, only mechanically doing his obligations, always standing, motionless, in her dark and tomb-like rooms, as if he stood there long enough, time would rewind and bring her back to him.
There was no doubt in your mind, that's where he was going, to say one last good-bye to her, before you both set sail for Lockemirth, for what would likely be several years, if not forever. You had already sneaked into her room, during the night, taking a ruby necklace that she loved to wear, as a token to remember her by and to feel as if, in a way, she was accompanying you both on the journey.
“Are you ready, my dear?” His voice asked as he descended the staircase to join you in the foyer, lifting a graying brow at you.
“As I can be, Father.” You replied, stomach clenching inside your corset.
He smiled at you, fingertips gently brushing your cheek, while Edward opened the front doors. “Into a brave new world, my loving daughter.” He said, looping his arm with yours and escorted you out into the rising morning sun, the family carriage already waiting for you both, door open and horses patiently standing at attention.
Your father helped you inside the carriage, then followed after you, rapping his knuckles on the door to signal the driver to move forward. Both of you watched as the beloved house slowly disappeared from view, soon falling away to the wharves of London harbor. The sea air was even stronger on the wharves, mixed with the strong scents of seaweed, fish, the unwashed bodies of sailors long at sea and hot tar. The HMS Kilmartin was easy enough to spot on the wharves, its masts standing tall amongst the others, rocking in the gentle swell of the waves coming off the ocean, it glittered in the rays of the new day, showing off its blue, white and gold paint job, it was immaculate. It gave you a great measure of relief to see it, it seemed infinitely more steady and reliable than the other ships in the harbor.
“Shall we find out if you have sea legs like your dear father?” He teased you, as you approached the gangplank leading up onto the deck.
You tried to give him an amused smile, before following him up the swaying plank, but you weren't truly amused at the prospect of finding out if you were prone to seasickness or not. You dearly hoped you wouldn't be though, all you needed was this voyage to be even longer and more miserable then it already would be without you losing your stomach with every movement of the ship.
Stepping onto the deck, you clutched your father's arm tighter and planted your feet against the unaccustomed sway. Your father chuckled and helped you steady yourself, standing there for several long minutes to allow you to acclimate, then started forward again, slowly, baby step by baby step. A pair of doors swung open and a man appeared out of them, dressed completely in Royal Navy attire, giving away his station as the Captain of the ship.
“Sir Thomas.” The Captain smiled at your father, striding over to you both with the confidence of a man walking on land, instead of on the swaying deck of a ship. “This must be your lovely daughter.” He smiled at you next, sweeping off his hat and bowing to you.
“Indeed, sir.” Your father smiled, looking at you with all and more pride. “My dear, this is Captain Davis.”
“My lady.” Captain Davis greeted you, taking your offered hand and kissing it. “It is a pleasure to have you aboard my ship.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Captain Davis.” You replied, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks.
Captain Davis's smile broadened at your words, before letting your hand go and looking back to your father. “We have your cabins ready for you, sir. The things you've asked to be taken into them are already there, awaiting you both.” He explained to your father.
“So, shall I show you to your cabins?”
“Please, lead the way, Captain.” Your father nodded and gripped your hand tighter, following Davis into a dim passageway and down a small set of stairs, to the second level of the ship.
“Sir Thomas, your cabin is here.” Captain Davis said, leading the way down a narrow hallway and motioned to a door on the left. “My lady, your cabin is just through there.” He pointed to a door across from your father's. “I do hope the both of you find comfort in them. If you are in need of anything, please inform myself or my Chief Mate, Mr. Gray.” He instructed the both of you.
You and your father thanked him and entered your respective cabins. Your cabin was narrow in length and just wide enough that your fingertips, with your arms stretched out from your sides, barely touched the walls, it reminded you of your closet at home. Sighing, you approached the bed to one side, it was built into the side of the ship, for obvious reasons, with a feather mattress laid into that, and a lip, to keep the bed's occupant from being either rolled out or tossed out with the ship's movement, no matter its speed and the type of waves it was sailing through. There was a porthole across from the bed, where you could only see the side of a ship that was docked beside the Kilmartin.
At the other side of your room was a heavy and deep chest, a chest full of your things, clothing to change into, toiletries and some other home comforts to keep you company, like a book or two. Sighing, you sat down on the bed and stared out the porthole, to what teeny strip of blue and cloudy sky you could see at the top of it.
“I already miss home.” You frowned, chewing on your lip.
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It was three weeks into the voyage to Lockemirth Island from London, and you had, more or less, gotten your sea legs; as your father put it. You had only spent the first day and a half hanging over the railing of the main deck, spilling any substance you put in your body, that wasn't already there to start with. All things considered though, you found yourself rather enjoying the life on board the ship, watching the crew go about their duties, pulling and tying ropes as thick as your arms, climbing the rigging like monkeys in trees; you marveled at their ease of doing it without falling or getting tangled up. You would join your father every evening or morning for a row around the main deck, keeping each other company and sane on the long journey.
But, on the second day of the fourth week, as you woke and dressed that morning, something felt different, off to the normal air and movement of the ship. Frowning, you made your way to the top side and heard all the noise and ruckus that was going on. You had grown used to all the noise that came with the ship, but there was more of it, frantically yelled orders and every crew member was in a manic rush to and fro, carrying this and dragging that, not even looking or uttering their usual greetings to you.
It frightened the wits out of you.
You quickly found your father in Captain Davis's quarters, both frantic as the crew, but also angry. Angry at each other, something else or both, you couldn't tell, but you knew the look of fear on your father's face, you had seen it only in times of great peril and strife.
“Papa, what's the matter?” You asked, moving forward to rest your hand on his arm, trying to give him some type of reassurance.
He started, feeling your warm touch on his arm, his billowing sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “My petal.” He gasped, blinking as if it was the first time he had ever set eyes on you. “You should go back down to your cabin, Petal. It's not quite safe for you, just now.”
You frowned at him, increasingly concerned. “Why?” You asked, blinking at him and glancing down at the map on the Captain's vast desk.
“My--” He paused and let out a harsh breath through his nose, a clear sign he's annoyed and at a stalemate for what to do and say. “It's nothing to be concerned with, my Petal. The dear Captain believes he saw an...unfriendly...ship on the horizon this morning.”
“Is it a pirate ship?” You let out in a rush, eyes wide with alarm.
“Of course not, Petal.” Your father chuckled, shaking his head at you. “It was flying the colors of a French flag.”
“It's easy enough for a pirate to fly a false flag in place of their own, until they get close enough to fly it, and at that point, it would be too late for us to escape their guns or their attempt to board us.” A man standing on the other side of the desk said, pessimistically.
“Mr. Gray!” Your father roared, slamming his fist down on the desk and causing several small, lead figurines to jump and fall over. “I would request you holding your tongue with such talk in front of my daughter.” He growled, dangerously.
“Bad luck to have a woman aboard, as is.” Mr. Gray continued, ignoring your father and glaring at you with unmasked distaste.
“It seems the only bad luck on this ship, Mr. Gray,” You hissed back, jaw stiff. “is your attitude.”
Your father repressed a snort of proud laughter into his fist, covering it up with a clearing of his throat. “Be it as it may, Mr. Gray. My daughter is on this ship, and if there were anything of luck to be had, it would be with her.” He told the First Mate, but smiled adoringly at you. “You have nothing to fret over, my Petal. All will be well. That French ship was most likely just sailing back to her home port with merchant goods.”
He took your hand from his forearm and escorted you to the open door of the Captain's quarters. “Didn't you start that lovely needle point work, just yesterday?” He inquired, stepping out of the quarters with you and closing the door behind him. “I simply can not wait for you to finish and show it to me, my dearest.” He told you, sounding most interested and desperate to see the finished product.
“I did.” You nodded, still uneasy about the information you received.
“Then, go back down to your cabin and work on finishing it.” He brought you to the doorway of the passage that led down to your cabins. “I'll be down shortly and we'll take our customary round about the deck. How does that sound?” He asked, grinning at you sweetly, too sweetly.
“Of course, Father.” You acquiesced with a soft sigh, you could tell he was overwhelmed with worry and frustration and didn't wish to add to it, so you conceded, bowing your head obediently to him.
“That's a dear girl.” He smiled at you, kissing your forehead, then returned to the Captain's quarters. “So, who do we think it was?” He asked, leaning against the desk and surveying the map, the knocked over figurines having been put back in their places.
“This time of the year?” Mr. Gray replied, stroking his smooth chin. “It could be anybody. Actual French, the Spanish, but more than likely, pirates.”
“Oh, come off it, Richard.” Captain Davis huffed, mopping his sweaty face with his handkerchief.
“I'm serious, Godfrey.” Gray huffed back at him, angered that his word wasn't being trusted. “It's hurricane season in the Caribbean, the Spanish and French, unless on official business wouldn't be sailing out here. We only are because we must get the new Governor and his daughter, to Lockemirth, or we too would be anchored in London Harbor. The only people crazy enough to sail in these waters are those and pirates, that know other ships will be anchored in harbors, or trying to reach harbor before a storm brews in, so they could take advantage of their desperation.”
“It was sailing clear in the other direction, Richard.” Davis answered, shaking his head at his First Mate's paranoia. “That was at first light this morning. If it was a pirate seeking advantage, we would have seen the change of course and reappear in our wake.”
“That was four hours ago.” Thomas replied, pressing his lips together. “They wouldn't have been able to stay in our wake and out of our sight for that long, in fear of losing us.” He explained, trying to be rational with the two of them.
“Sir Thomas is correct, Richard.” Davis agreed, dropping into the chair behind his desk. “They would have been re-spotted in some capacity. They have not been, so it can only be a French ship returning to her port, most likely a head of any storms that might form.” He said, pressing his fingertips to his thumping and sweaty temples. “I have Mr. Michaels on watch duty, he'll tell us if another, or the same ship, is spotted in our wake. So, until then, gentlemen, I recommend not wasting your energy and strength of fretting about it.”
Looking at each other, Sir Thomas and Mr. Gray nodded their heads at the Captain and excused themselves from his quarters, returning to their usual morning places. Your father came down to your cabin and after answering several of your worried questions, the pair of you went up onto the deck and started doing your rounds about it, the crew was in less of rush and panic, now that Mr. Gray had given them orders to ease their distress, greeting you and your father as you passed by them.
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The two of you were having lunch together with Captain Davis, when Mr. Gray came barreling into the room, out of breath and only making the smallest apologies for barging in without knocking or ceremony. Captain Davis wiped his mouth and dropped his silk napkin beside his plate with a deep air of irritation, then pushed his chair back and stood.
“What is this about, Mr. Gray?” He demanded, rounding the table to stand face to face with him.
“The ship, sir.” Mr. Gray wheezed, gulping thickly and trying to regain himself. “The French ship has been spotted again, six leagues behind us, Sir.” He informed his Captain, taking a deep gulp of air into his burning lungs.
Captain Davis's head snapped over his shoulder to your father, who was instantly to his feet and going out the door with Davis and Gray. You looked out the large bay window behind the Captain's chair to the endless and sparkling track of ocean and sky, but saw nothing in it, but choppy waves. Jumping to your feet, you rushed out of the room, catching your father's coat tails as he ran up the staircase leading to the upper deck, where the helm was stationed. Captain Davis snatched a folded spy glass from the helmsman, extending it to full length and spied out over the ocean, where Gray was pointing his finger, supposedly where he had seen the ship in question, not moments before.
You watched Davis's stiff shoulders slowly melt, making your anxiety spike, knowing if there was nothing of alarm to be seen, his shoulders would have stayed stiff, but they relaxed, like he was in agreement that there was something trailing behind the ship, and it was nothing good. You looked up as your father looked back at you and saw the same language of Davis's body, in his face.
“There's still no evidence the ship is sailed by pirates.” Davis said, handing his spy glass to your father. “There could be any number of reasons for her to turn back.”
“Why are you acting as if nothing is possibly afoul?” Gray asked, his teeth gritted as he tried to hold his temper with his commanding officer.
Captain Davis did not reply, his unfocused eyes stared off in the direction of the quickly growing black spot, you could now see, on the bright horizon, chewing on his lip as he tried to come up with something to do, some action to take against not only the possibility of the ship being indeed French and either in need of their help or sought to harm them, or if it was a pirate ship sailing under a fake French flag for evil pretenses, such as boarding, plundering and scuttling them.
“Captain!” Gray roared in his face, patience lost. “Orders!”
Davis snapped out of it and his face turned into an expression of hardened steel. “Let out the sails, catch as much of the wind as we can, try to get ahead of them as much as possible, but run out the guns in case we can not!” He snapped, then pushed aside the helmsman manning the ship's wheel.
Gray rushed to the railing overlooking the main deck and shouted the orders down to the crew, who paused for a moment, looking at each other as alarm and the urgency of it set in, then started running around to fulfill the orders. You stood frozen in place, you weren't part of the crew, those orders meant nothing to you in the slightest. So, you knew not what to do with yourself, other than stand there and watch that black spot steadily take the shape of a ship, and a mighty looking ship it was, even at such a distance, you shuddered to think what it would look like even closer still.
Your father clapped shut the spyglass and turned towards you, he looked ashen as your eyes met, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped down his own anxiety and fears, getting a handle on his resolve like a hand snapping closed around something valuable. He blindly held the closed spyglass out to the helmsman, who took it, and strode over to you with deep purpose, catching your elbow in his hand and turning you down the stairs.
“Sir Thomas!” Captain Davis yelled out, catching your father's attention. “Take her into my quarters, she should be safe there!” He said and the two men nodded heads at each other and your father helped you down the stairs and into the Captain's quarters.
“Papa?” You huffed as he escorted you inside, then turned on his boot heels and started out again, without a word to you. “Father!” You snapped, annoyed with him, and truly frightened.
“My Petal, fret not! All will settle down.” He told you, stopping in the doorway. “Once we out run that ship.”
“And if we do not?” You asked, brows lifting at him.
“We will.” He replied, sounding as if he was trying to convince both of you of that fact, before going out, closing and locking the quarters behind him.
Huffing and shaking your head at the door, you paced the room, trying to calm your nerves. Your father never lied to you, so if he said the Kilmartin would outrun the ship, then that's what it would do, and when it did that, it would no longer matter if the ship had good or ill deeds as its intentions against your ship, they would be lost behind and likely give up the chase. Sighing, you sat down on a padded bench under the long window at the back of the ship, staring at the ship that grew closer still.
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Within the hour, the ship was considerably closer to the Kilmartin, so close, you could see the little dots of crewmen scurrying about the rigging. It did nothing to ease your anxiety and fear, if anything it made it worse, and knew your father had to be feeling the same way. With another hour or two, the ship would no doubt be alongside yours, then the real trouble and anxiety would set in.
What would they do?
What did they want?
All questions that kept circling your mind as you watched the gap between the two ships narrow more and more as time passed.
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You hadn't realized you had dozed off, lulled by the rock of the ship, until you heard a loud boom and a splash of water, making you jerk and gasp. Your eyes snapped out the window and a strong dizzy spell made the room spin a full three hundred and sixty degrees, before steadying on the sight of the ship that had been chasing the HMS Kilmartin for the last several hours, you could see the bow of the ship now, clear as day, as well as the ship's figurehead, a lion's head with a rose in its mouth.
The noise that you had heard was the ship firing one of its cannons as a warning shot, an aggressive suggestion to stop trying to run and yield to them. But, you could tell by the pull of the ship, it hadn't let up an ounce of its speed, still trying to outrun them. You watched two more sails drop into place on their masts and knew, in that instant, that the pursers hadn't been using their ship's full strength to overtake the Kilmartin, they had been toying with them, the whole time.
The ship gained considerable speed in only a few minutes, leaning slightly to the starboard as it was maneuvered to pull alongside the Kilmartin. You jumped up onto your feet and looked out the windows to the side of the ship, watching as the ship slid into place beside yours, you could see the open cannon ports and the guns in place, ready and waiting for the ship's captain to give the order to open fire.
The doors to the quarters burst open and you yelped, startled, but sighed, seeing it was just your father. He gave you a half sympathetic smile, but his expression was agitated and frantic, sweat pouring from his brow and his usually immaculate clothing disheveled. He strode over to you, pulling you bodily away from the windows, eyes darting between you and the ship outside them.
“Get away from there.” He snapped, hastily. “It isn't safe.”
“I thought we were to out run them.” You said, gripping his hands in yours.
“So, we thought we would, but it seems these people are not to be underestimated.” He replied, squeezing your trembling hands. “Stay away from the windows, and no matter what you hear and what happens, do not come out of this room, until I come for you. Do you understand me?”
“If you--”
“Do you understand!” He barked, hotly.
You drew away from him, surprised at his temper towards you. “I do.” You replied softly, brows creasing.
“Good.” He nodded, letting go of your hands and left you locked in the Captain's quarters, yet again.
It wasn't twenty minutes later another shot rang out, this time from a musket, instead of a cannon. You weren't sure what ship it had been issued from and weren't sure it even mattered, it wasn't a good sign by and by. Your heart was hammering against your corset strings, there was a battle coming, even you knew that much. You dared to peek out the window again and regretted it, as the guns from both ships opened fire. Yelping, you dropped to the floor and scurried over to the Captain's desk, taking cover underneath it.
There were reports from cannons, muskets and pistols, mixed in with shouts of orders and insults, the screams of the injured and dying, the shattering and splintering groans of wood as cannonballs ripped through both ships. It felt like forever since the battle started, soon joined with the resounding clang of metal as the men from the other ship managed to board the Kilmartin and a battle of swords broke out. This was all the worst case scenarios that your father and the Captain had been trying to avoid since first spotting of the ship that morning and all you could think of was the image of your father laying on the deck bleeding to death or already being dead.
You peeked at the door from over top the desk, not willing to come out of your hiding place, once you heard the sudden and unsettling silence that fell between the ships. Had the crew of the Kilmartin won at defending their ship, or had the other ship won? Maybe, neither ship won and they had all killed each other! What would that mean for you, being the only one still alive? You couldn't sail a ship on your own, even if you knew how to. Did that mean you would be left here to starve or feel the mercy of whatever the sea and weather threw at you. Maybe you would get lucky and another ship would pass by, investigate why two ships were motionless in the middle of the ocean and would save you. Or the ship would be pushed in the direction of some spot of civilization, saving you that way.
But, the more your mind came up with these possible scenarios and questions, the more and more outlandish and infinitely impossible they became.
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Sir Thomas, your father, and Captain Davis watched as the ship not only dropped two more sails, but also lowered the French flag it had been flying since it had been spotted that morning.
“Please, not a red one.” Thomas muttered under his breath. “Please, not the red.”
“What's the matter with a red flag?” A deckhand, who had been standing behind him asked.
Thomas half turned to him, lifting a brow at him. “New to a ship, I'm supposing.”
“Aye, sir.” He nodded, looking even more nervous.
“Pirates flags are signals to those the pirates are pursuing.” Thomas replied, pushing his jaw forward. “A black pirate flag means that anyone who surrenders will be allowed to live. But, a red pirate flag means, 'no quarter given'.” He explained, but saw the naive look in the green deckhand's eyes.
“In layman's terms, no matter what, everyone on board will die, despite them surrendering peacefully or not.”
The deckhand's face drained of all color, as the true gravity of the situation struck him, before he bolted for the railing and vomited over the side. Thomas shook his head at the boy, turning back towards the gaining ship, just in time to see the pitch black flag unfurl at the top of the main mast, baring a white skull with a red rose in its mouth, letting out the teeniest amount of tension from Thomas's body. He and Davis exchanged looks with each other, the same thought going through their minds at seeing the black flag, instead of the red one.
A moment later, as the ship pulled alongside the Kilmartin, a musket shot went off, whizzing past Thomas and Davis, and struck the green deckhand between the shoulder blades, knocking him over the railing and into the ocean with a splash. Thomas looked across the small gap between the ships, his eye meeting the eye of the man standing beside its wheel, as he lowered the smoking musket from his shoulder, a smug and unapologetic expression on his face as the crew of the ship lined the railing closet to the Kilmartin, their own weapons loaded and ready for whatever was to come next.
“Surrender now!” the musket wielding man shouted across. “No harm will come to you or your crew!”
Captain Davis took a step forward, resting his hand on one of the handles of the ship's wheel, grasping it so tightly his knuckles turned bone white. “I haven't surrendered to a pirate's demand in the twenty years I've been a Captain.” He hissed, under his breath and between clenched teeth.
“I don't bloody intend to now.”
“Captain, we can not afford to fight these men.” Gray hissed back at him.
“This is His Majesty's Ship and it shall stay that way.” Davis snapped, turning his head to glare at his First Mate. “Pirates be damned!” He roared out loud, turning his venom back to the other ship.
“Fire!” He ordered aloud.
There was a momentary lull, before the firing started, blast after blast of cannon fire from blew the ships' decks and the firing of muskets on deck. Men taking cover between shots to reload their guns, then popping back up again to return fire. The splashes of missed shot and dead bodies falling into the raging sea between the ships, splinters of wood rained down on top of them as balls smashed through railings, masts and hauls. A scurry of men on the pirate ship climbed the rigging with ease, grabbing onto loose lines to swing across the no man's land between the ships and boarded the Kilmartin, pulling their swords and cutlasses, cutting down any poor fellow in their way, before they themselves could pull their metal, and swept through the deck.
The Kilmartin was soon overwhelmed after that, forcing Captain Davis to wave a white flag and surrender to the organized and clever pirates. A gangplank was laid between the bobbing ships, but no one crossed it, instead, a tall and bearded man stepped forward, his hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, he wore a dark brown jerkin over a billowing white shirt and tight leather pant; lifting a brow and tilting his head at the assembly of the remaining Kilmartin crew, before settling his piercing blue gaze on Davis.
“You are the Captain of this ship, I presume?” He asked in a deep voice.
“I am.” Davis replied, not hiding his disgust with the man, whose clothing was stained and spotted with the blood of his men. “Who might you be, then?”
“I'm the Captain of the Crimson Jersey.” He replied, jerking his head towards the other ship.
A low murmur went through the Kilmartin men, their fright became even more profound hearing the name of the ship that had attacked them, side eyeing each other and their captures. The Crimson Jersey was one of the most feared Pirate Ships on the high seas, there was only one other ship feared more than the Crimson Jersey and that was Black Beard's Queen Anne's Revenge, and even Black Beard had a measure of respect for the Captain of the Crimson Jersey. While the Captain of the Crimson Jersey, Henry the Red, rarely left people alive from his attacks on their ships, he was well known for attacking well off ships and taking either people or materials as captives, until a set ransom was met, if the ransom wasn't met, then he would kill the captive or keep the materials to sell to the highest bidder at one of the Pirate Ports.
“We have nothing of value on the ship.” Captain Davis said, narrowing his eyes at the other Captain.
“Then, what is the HMS Kilmartin doing out so far from her beloved port?” Henry the Red asked, lifting a suspicious brow at Davis.
“His Majesty the King has ordered us to sail to Port Royal to retrieve the Governor there and bring him back to London, for personal commendation.” Davis told him, lying easily to the Pirate Captain's face.
“It must be some commendation for him to order it this late in the year, the threat of hurricanes are quite common about this time.” Henry replied, sensing Davis's lie, but his eyes moved to Thomas, noticing his shifty behavior and the way he kept trying to subtly look towards the doors of the Captain's quarters.
“Is there something bothering you?” He asked, stepping closer to Thomas. “Like a secret you know.”
“I know nothing of what you speak.” Thomas replied, glaring back at the man.
“Is that so?” He replied, a knowing smirk on his lips. “Then, you'll have no quarrel with me going to have a look.” He said, striding over to the locked doors of the quarters.
“Don't!” Thomas suddenly shouted, his resolve breaking away to his fear of the pirate finding you inside.
Henry turned back to Thomas and laughed at him, more than sure now there was something of great value inside. Taking a step back, he kicked the doors open with a crash of his big boot and entered. At first, he didn't see anything of value inside the room, but he didn't get deterred easily, especially when there was the prospect of treasure involved. He searched the room and as he neared the desk, saw the hem of a dress underneath it and grinned, knowing now what that treasure really was.
“Well, well.” He cooed, stepping around the back of the desk. “Who do we have here?” He laughed, watching you draw yourself further underneath the desk.
Bending down, he reached underneath the desk and grabbed a hold of your arm, yanking you halfway out before you sank your teeth into his meaty forearm. He hissed as you broke his skin and the copper-y taste of his blood touched your tongue, but his vise-like grip didn't relent, he only gripped you tighter and finished dragging you out of your hiding place.
“Oh, feisty and pretty.” He chuckled, surveying you with an unguarded eye. “I like that.” He smiled, then grunted as you stomped on his foot. “Watch yourself, wench.” He hissed, knotting his hand in the back of your hair and painfully jerking your head back, making your vision swim. “Try such a thing again and you'll lose something precious to you.” He warned, then dragged you out of the quarters.
“Let her go!” Thomas roared, taking a step towards you both, only to be stopped with a punch to the gut.
“Father!” You shrieked, jerking against Henry, only to be yanked backwards against him and his free hand wrapped around your throat.
“Father?” Henry mocked, smiling between you and Thomas. “Is this your dear daughter?”
“Let her go.” Thomas wheezed, straightening himself up. “I'll give you anything you wish, just please let her go.” He begged.
“She's all I have left in this world.”
Henry grinned at your father and turned his face into your hair. “I'm sure you would give me anything in the world to have her back.” He whispered against the skin of your temple. “So, tell me, what is it you're willing to give me for her back?” He asked, looking at your father from the corner of his eye.
Thomas floundered, his heart racing as he held your terrified gaze. “I'm on my way to take my station as Governor of Lockemirth Island, in the Caribbean.” He gasped, trying to get a hold of himself. “That is the purpose of the HMS Kilmartin being at sea. Once there, I will be in command of a very large sum of money and goods, I will give you half of it, for her safety and return.”
Henry pursed his lips and clicked his tongue as he considered the offer, then shook his head. “Three fourths of it.” He demanded, twisting a lock of your loose hair around his finger. “No less, Governor.”
Your father floundered for another moment, before his shoulders dropped and he nodded his head. “Fine.”
“Excellent.” Henry grinned, gripping your arm again and pushing your forward, towards the gangplank bouncing up and down between the ships.
“Wait, no!” You shrieked, turning and trying to get back to your father. “Father!”
“It'll be all right, Petal!” He shouted back, blocked by three of Henry's men.
“You can't!” You protested, pushing back against Henry as he hustled you forward.
“I can and I am.” Henry laughed, grinning at you, then tossed you over his shoulder and stepped onto the gangplank.
“Papa!” You screamed, flailing on Henry's shoulder.
Your father shouted your name back, but it was lost in the wind. The pirates disembarked from the Kilmartin and back onto the Crimson Jersey, careful that the Kilmartin crew didn't try to storm them and try to return the attack, in an attempt to rescue you. Once everyone was onboard, the gangplank was drawn back and the ships were separated.
In no time, the HMS Kilmartin was starting to disappear in the dying light of the horizon.
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Henry kicked open the door of his quarters, then kicked it closed again, before setting you down in front of his desk. He crossed to one side of the room, plucking a bottle of dark green glass from a table, uncorked it and poured a brown liquid from inside of it into a goblet, tossing it back and poured himself another.
“You monstrous swine!” You growled at him, sneering at his broad back.
He turned towards you, lifting his glass in salute. “Aye!” He laughed and downed his drink again, before pouring yet another drink. “You'll be kept here, in my quarters, with me.” He informed you, sipping this glass.
“I would rather rot on deck.” You barked at him, upper lip twitching with disgust.
“Oh, that can be arranged, if my lady wishes it.” He chuckled, swirling his drink. “But, I must inform you, pet.” He set his drink down and approached you, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger and tipped your head back to look up at him. “It's been several months since my men have set a foot on land, so it's been many a month since they've had the pleasure of a woman's warm body.”
You gulped, your stubbornness starting to fail you.
“While I am far more educated and in command of myself, my men are not.” Henry continued, seeing the blooming realization and fear in your eyes. “So, you can take your chances with them, which you will have none, or you can stay in the relative safety of my quarters.” The register of his deep voice lowered. “Here, my men know better than to enter and anything inside is purely mine, under my protection.” He let go of your chin and strode to his door, yanking it open.
“Your choice.”
You stared at him, gulping and biting into your lip, but didn't move from the spot he had dropped you in, seeing the validity and safety of staying where you were at. A smile crept over his lips and he slammed the door shut again, seeing you had made your choice to stay in the safety only he could give you on board. He moved back to the table, pouring a drink into a second goblet and held it out to you, but you didn't move or say a word. He shrugged his shoulders at you and downed it instead, before taking up his first one around to his desk, settling himself in the high backed chair, to do the needed paperwork that came with piracy.
“Sit down.” He ordered you, motioning to a chair beside you. “Now!” He barked, when you didn't move.
Huffing at him, you pulled the chair sideways and dropped down into it, refusing to look at him or acknowledge his presence. None of which bothered him in the slightest, he was content in the quiet privacy of his mind and work, not paying you all much mind, other than making sure you stayed where he told you to be. After sundown, a soft knock sounded at his door and, at Henry's permission, opened to a crew member, who entered with a silver tray laden with food. He set the tray down on his Captain's desk, nodded his obedient head at him and left. Henry picked up one of the plates on the tray, then pushed the tray towards you.
“If you wish to starve, that's on you.” He commented, when you didn't move. “But, don't whine about it later.” He told you, tearing off a chunk of bread and popped it into his mouth.
Rubbing at his eyes in the dim candle light, Henry stacked his papers together and put them in the bottom drawer of his desk, locking it up with a key that hung around his neck, then stood. He toed out of his boots and crossed the room, hanging his sword and pistol on a hook by the door, removed the brown leather jerkin he was wearing over his shirt and hung it up on the same hook, then locked the door with the same key that was around his neck. He turned and regarded you, still sitting, motionless and sulky, on the chair in front of his desk and rolled his eyes.
“The stubbornness of women.” He huffed to himself, going to a set of heavy curtains to one side of the room.
“The ilk of men.” You growled back at him, angry eyes burning holes into his back.
Henry laughed, jerking back the curtains to reveal a bed behind them, then turned around to grin at you. “Something we agree on, pet.” He chuckled, amused, then sighed and reached behind his head, tugging loose the tight leather string that tied his hair back and shook his head, setting free a mop of dark cinnamon curls, that softened his look considerably.
“Lay down.” He ordered, jerking his curly head to the large, curtained bed.
You snorted at him. “No.”
“That wasn't a question, pet.”
“Don't call me that.”
“I'll call you what I want, now lay down.” He barked at you, eyes hardening.
You turned your own hardened eyes towards him, but didn't budge.
Growling deep in his throat, Henry took several long strides towards you, yanked you out of the chair and back over his shoulder, unphased by you beating on his back to be put down, then dropped you, bodily, onto his bed. With you where he wanted you, Henry turned towards the large bay window behind his desk and made himself comfortable on the cushions there, stuffing one of them behind his head, before dozing off.
You laid there, surprised he hadn't tried to force himself on you or the very least crawl into bed beside you. You half expected him to wait until you fell asleep to try something, but his soft snores soon reached you. Biting your lip, you sat up at the edge of the bed and looked over at him, he was laying half propped up, the quarter moon illuminating one side of his face. He wasn't faking, he was actually asleep. Sighing, you laid back again, your mind spinning, trying to work up the nerve to steal that key around his neck and escape. But, where would you go, once you did have the key and the door open? You had a ship full of his men, on an open ocean, where the ship had already put countless miles between you and the Kilmartin.
Perhaps, you could buy your time, until and in hopes, they made port, to wait for your father's word he had the ransom, then steal away, finding safety somewhere in the port until your father and the Crown could rescue you.
“Pirates.” You huffed, then drew the bed curtains closed, not wanting that bloody pirate to be the last face you saw before you managed to fall asleep.
280 notes · View notes
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Although the canal that Rett’s boat is on in London isn’t as picturesque as Amsterdam, the boat itself is cozy and she said it’s a very cheap way to live in London. 
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Rett is a photographer and also loves to take pictures of her boat.
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The bed looks comfy and it’s at least a double.
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Two built-in seats make up the living room area.
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Heat is made by a coal stove.
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A real bellows and kindling wood to start the fire.
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Rett says she’s learned that bags of coal are very heavy. This looks like charcoal for barbecuing. 
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I guess there isn’t much storage on a boat.
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The kitchen is small, but at least there’s a 4 burner stove. 
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Cute little tub.
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Rett says that you don’t need to pay for electricity- I think that the heavy duty orange extension cord provides all the electric she needs from the dock. 
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A little garden beside the water.
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Since she takes her boat out, it looks like she’s pulling it into it’s berth. Those long rods must be for bracing yourself. I’m guessing.
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This is nice- a building on the docks where the boat residents can hang out and have a drink at the bar.
https://theselby.com/galleries/retts-wood-at-home-in-london/
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ray-of-sunshine-1 · 5 months ago
Text
Bambi - Chapter 3 (Baekhyun mafia au)
CHAPTER ONE              CHAPTER TWO
OKAY WOW, i need to have my internet taken away from me, this chapter is a whole whiplash of feelings, hope you enjoy!
warnings: mentions of blood, bruises and wounds, sexual language, sexual scenes, swearing, mentions of guns, dirty talk and idk what else
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he couldn't stop looking at you.
no matter how hard he tried, his eyes just couldn't leave you. every single thing about you drove him mad, your laugh, your goofy jokes, the way you aren't afraid of speaking to him. he loved teasing you, hearing your sweet lips cuss him out was so cute.
but hearing you whimper...was even better.
he couldn't get enough of you. as you walked up to the hotel room, he couldn't help but stop you every now and then just to taste your sweet lips again.
when you finally get to the hotel room, you were already dazed and horribly turned on.
baekhyun smiles at you, kissing you one last time. "sweetheart, you look tired...the bedroom is yours" he walks off to the living room.
was he really going to sleep on the couch??
He loosens his tie before disappearing from your view
***
You couldn't even sleep for a second. The bed was so big, and it didn't help that the only lights available were huge. You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed, you wander into the living room and see baekhyun asleep on the couch.
You gently tap his arm "baekhyun.." you whisper, you do it again before he replies "are you okay?" He was about to sit up but you just push him down and lay on top of him, resting your head on his chest. He hesitated but when he wraps his arms around you, he decides this is one of the best feelings ever. "The bed is so big, and I hate the dark." You simple inform him, you expected him to tease you but he just holds you close, humming softly as you feel yourself get pulled into sleep.
When you wake up again, you were still there. Safe and warm in his arms as his fingers gently thread through your hair. "Good morning" he grins before placing a soft kiss on your head. You couldn't stop the smile that grew on your face, nuzzling yourself closer to him, hiding in his arms.
"I've never felt so relaxed waking up" he smiles at you as he kisses your neck, tickling you as he does so, you both laugh but you suddenly gasp when he says "so glad we slept in" you jump up "what time is it????" he looks at you in amusement "its 11 am" you whine in annoyance "no, im 3 hours late to work, god im so fired."
he laughs, getting up and wrapping his arms around you, "you're my woman. why would you ever want to work anymore....plus I need more time with you" he places a soft kiss on your jaw, then under your ear. "just having you here gets me so excited y/n..." he smirks, pushing you against him "you feel that? how perfect we fit together? I belong here" he laughs when you hide your face in his chest from embarrassment.
"Today you won't be leaving my side, so go inside and freshen up so we can get going" he kisses your cheek before you walk away, gasping when he lands a cheeky slap onto your ass.
he couldn't help it, you were so cute that night, and how sleepy you looked in his arms. it was driving him crazy, why did he feel so much for you already? he sighs before walking to the other room to change.
***
he gently walks you onto the large yacht, sitting you down on the seat at the front of the boat with him getting behind the steering wheel.
it was surreal, the way you were relaxing on a fancy yacht with baekhyun driving you along the sea, but what you didn't know was how in awe baekhyun was.
especially when he began to slow down and you took your shirt and skirt off, showing off your cute baby blue one piece. his eyes were glued to you, he couldn't help it, you looked adorably delicious, and he was enjoying watching you look out to the water with excitement.
when he finally stops the boat you feel his arms wrap around you eagerly, he hums before hiding his face in the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses "baby you look so cute, and me being here alone with you... you really are trying to get me to lose my mind." you giggle at him as you turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck "maybe i do want you to lose your mind...i mean im just a helpless girl....all alone....with a bad bad man...." you fake a pout, you felt proud of yourself as he looks at you with a smirk, leaning in to kiss you but you move away rushing to the edge of the yacht and jumping into the water.
he laughs, taking his own clothes off before jumping in after you. he quickly pulls you close to him, kissing you hungrily "you're gonna be the death of me"
And that's how you spend most of your day, when lunch rolls around he takes you to a seaside restaurant.
***
he smiles at you as you eagerly eat the ice cream he got, you look at him confused "what?" he laughs and kisses you eagerly, licking his lips when he moves away with a smirk "fucking delicious" he laughs at how embarrassed you look. "you're insane" you shake your head at him, both of you amused at the way you're both acting.
"you make me insane" he looks at you fondly "I feel like im losing my mind, but when im with you it gets worse because I never want you to leave" he pulls you close, Baekhyuns soft palm cups your cheek, his sweet smile grows when you nuzzle into his touch. "if you keep looking so cute i'll have to fuck you against the nearest surface" he promises and once again you are whiplashed between his two personalities.
he laughs at your flustered expression, leaning in to suck the ice cream off the corner of your lips. you look up at him, and at that moment you wanted nothing but to kiss that stupid grin off his face, and as he leans in to do exactly that, one of his men rush in quickly "boss!" he pants, baekhyun turning to him with a stare that could kill. "what." he was very pissed "boss junmyeon's men they..." his eyes look towards you then back towards baekhyun who's now a lot more alert. "what. What's happened" baekhyun holds you close to him, you didn't understand what was happening but you've never seen baekhyun like this...so angry. he was trying not to show it, but his eyes...his eyes were dark, full of rage.
"boss they've stopped our new shipment and stolen the...stuff" the man looks towards you again, baekhyun now enraged. he was struggling to hold it in, reminding himself that he's in front of you, his sweet girl, and he couldn't show you that side of himself...he couldn't.
"take y/n to the safe house, and you are not allowed to leave her for a fucking second, one hair missing and I'll end you." he hugs you gently, which completely contrast his previous threats "baekhyun is everything okay?" he smiles at you and cups your cheeks "dont worry your pretty self, I just have some urgent business to deal with, jack will stay with you, and I'll have my friend meet up with you later on okay?" he kisses your forehead gently "I'll be back soon...we have unfinished business" he winks at you before walking off. as soon as he's far away enough "get your fucking ass in the cars now!" he snaps at his men before they all drive away.
after a very long drive, you reach a beautiful house hidden between the large tree and sakura flowers, jack helping you out of the car "so, are you gonna tell me what that whole thing was about?" he just shakes his head as you walk into the house. "can I at least know when he's coming back?" the man sighs "ma'am I can't tell you, baekhyun will shoot me for even talking to you" he shows you around the house before lurking in the background.
"come on I'm bored at least have a chat with me, I won't tell him we talked, promise" you put your hand up as an oath, and he finally gives in "how is baekhyun like?" you look at him, eager to know the answer. "well he's a very smart guy, very scary but we all respect him." you smile at his words, apart of you already knew he had a crazy switch, in all honesty so did you, you just have a better hold on it then baekhyun.
"so...does he treat a lot of women like this?" jack laughs slightly at your question "I felt like that was coming, well I've been working for him for about 3 years and you're the first woman he's ever told me to bring here. hes had flings, dancers, some celebrities but they all last a day or two, he has his fun and moves on, but I've never seen him act like that with anyone else" you hum "and I'm supposed to believe that this is true and he hasn't made you memorize all of that to tell different women?" jack laughs again "no, you're just gonna have to believe me."
"what's his family like?" you wander around the room, looking at the small trinkets placed around "well, they're intense? he has an older brother that he trusts but other than that, he barely sees his family...he doesnt want to deal with the stress of it, but his close friends are basically his family" you could sense that jack felt bad for baekhyun, was his family that cruel? you sigh softly "he seems very close with xiumin, but what I dont understand is this junmyeon guy? the other day you brought him up and today he was brought up again, who is he?"
Jack stiffens, he's reluctant to tell you "well...he's...to put it simply he's the boss's biggest enemy, I don't know what started it all, but i know that they've had a back and forth feud for years, lately it's gotten worse, with junmyeon owning the biggest weapons storage in the country there's been a lot of unwanted bloodshed." he clears his throat "but you don't need to worry about all of that," he notices how worried you get.
"Will he be okay?" you hold yourself, feeling your anxiety take over. "he didn't become as powerful as he is for nothing" he reassures you before you both look towards the door when a rough knock cuts you both off.
you were about to walk towards it before Jack stops you, taking out his gun "but-" he cuts you off by putting his finger over his lips, you nod in understanding as you both head for the door. he keeps you behind him as he checks the window, quickly putting away his gun and opening the door, letting in a tall man. "hey Jack, and hello to you" he winks, making you scoff at the man's cheesy actions.
he's tall and slender, his features are strong and very striking, and his tanned skin was a tone matched with his white button-up. "I'm kai, and you, of course, must be y/n, baeks new obsession" he smirks handing you a bag "you'll be staying here tonight, so here's some stuff you'll need" you look through the bag, rolling your eyes at the unnecessary fancy lingerie placed inside along with a change of clothes and a pair of silk pyjamas.
"where's baekhyun?" you begin to interrogate him, and he laughs "none of your business sweetness" he was less sheltered than Jack, clearly showing his lack of fear towards baekhyun "you're just a ball of fun aren't you?'' you huff at the man "look, I'm here to make sure you've got someone around, not here to discuss private business that baekhyun wants to keep you out of, so just relax, go take a bath or swim in the pool, do some girl stuff" he shoos you away, which irritates you even more.
why was he so dry? treating you like a stupid child "I think I'd rather be alone than have a jack ass like you around" you snatch the bag and turn to walk away, gasping when you're suddenly pushed against the wall, Jack looking at you both with wide eyes "sir...you can't-" "shut up Jack, leave us alone" kai's arm was caging you against the wall, as he leans in, glaring at jack again before he finally leaves. "listen, sweetness, I don't give a shit if you're fucking my best friend, he's all I care about and all you women are the same, cheating money-hungry leeches. so forgive me for not treating you like my favourite guest when you will inevitably crush his heart and end up dead in a ditch somewhere." smirking at your hurt expression, but quickly changing into shock when a loud slap finds its way onto his cheek.
you push him off of you with anger "I don't need to prove anything to you, but speak to me like that one more fucking time and I'll chop off the little noodle you call a dick because the biggest insult wasn't calling me a 'cheating money-hungry leech' but it was thinking I would treat him that way, so kindly fuck off" you storm off in anger, stomping up to the first room you find.
***
you calmed down after taking a very long bath, finding your way into the room probably used by baekhyun, seeing his favourite cologne placed on the dresser. you smile opening the closet and seeing only hoodies and sweats, something you barely saw baekhyun wear. you pick up one of the hoodies holding it close, its smelt like him.
why?? why did you miss him so so much?? why?? why did you want him around all the time?? you sigh, changing into his hoodie and laying on the bed. "I think.....I think I love that idiot" you huff and hide your face under a pillow. "screw you asshole, making me worry" you hug the pillow tightly, somehow drifting off to sleep.
later that night, you're woken up by the sound of baekhyun's voice "I missed you so much baby" he gently pats your hair "seeing your sweet face makes me forget it all" he hums when he notices you're awake, letting out a small chuckle when you tackle him with a hug "you asshole I was so worried" you hold him tightly, feeling calm when he wraps his arms around you "i know I'm sorry baby, I left as soon as I could" he smiles at you, gently rubbing your cheek, and you notice the bruises and cuts on his hands and knuckles. You hold his hand quickly, pouting at the sight of his pretty hands looking so hurt.
"why would you hurt your hands likes this, i don't give a shit who you have to hit just get someone else to do it" you scold him as you kiss one of the cuts, feeling annoyed when he laughs "what?" you huff at him "you don't care that I spent hours hurting people, but you care that i got hurt?" he smirks at you. "i know you wouldn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, but that doesn't mean you have to get hurt while doing it, especially not your hands" he laughs again, his hand moving up to grip your jaw "baby, just say you have a hand kink and move on" you look at him with wide eyes, baekhyun letting out a small groan "fuck you look so perfect", he looks at the hoodie you're wearing and bites his lip.
"you like wearing my clothes?" he pushes you down on the bed, climbing on top of you, thriving at how your little lace panties barely show under the hoodie. "did you miss me?" you nod quickly at him, and he gives you his signature fake pout "poor baby, you must've felt so alone without me, especially after that promise I gave you" he leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your neck, the hum he lets out sending shivers across your skin.
"do you remember what it was?" his hand traces up your thigh, gripping it when he reaches the top, making it harder for you to gather your thoughts "yes" you gulp, his thumb stroking your inner thigh. "what was it?" you gulp, trying to calm yourself down "you...you said...if I keep looking so cute....you'll end up....fucking me against the nearest surface" you feel your cheeks burn at the words leaving your mouth, and the way baekhyun bites his lip after doesn't help.
"hearing it from you is like music, say it again baby" the look he was giving you made you lose any shame you had, he looked at you as if you're the only woman in the world, the only thing he enjoys "you're going to end up fucking me if i keep acting like this" you look away from him, feeling too embarrassed after he lets out a groan, wrapping your legs around his waist, letting you really feel how hard he is.
"fuck...baby you sound so sexy speaking like this" and just like that, he pulls you into a hungry kiss that you love so much.
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binniesthighs · 6 months ago
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call me babydoll | reader x chan
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a/n: ahhhhh holy holy heck this chapter is SO DAMN EXCITING hehehe I had sosososo much writing and doing all the research!! please let me know if there is anything factual/cultural that I need to fix! I tried the best I could although I most def am not an expert in Egyptian culture so I appreciate it a lot :) hehe i hope ya have fun reading this chapter teehee oh! also I love hearing what you thought of it too! :D 
Four 
Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 
Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 
Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, royal!minho, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, several mentions of food and alcohol as well as getting tipsy/drunk that good, good making out, suggestive themes
CWs: mentions of guns, mentions of knives, themes of jealousy (expressed by the reader) 
Word count: 7.5k
Parts 
ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE 
“Well, we’re in Cairo alright.” 
Two tugged the amazed young stow-away-student, Seungmin, by the hand of his backpack to keep him from running into one of the palm tree planters decorating the terminal. The young man had nearly slept the whole flight due to the length as well as the exasperation that he had just been through. While his eyes were still darkened from his nap, his glossy pupils still wondered all around him. 
“I take it back. I’m so glad that I almost died so I could end up here with you guys.” 
Jeongin slapped him from the backside of his head. “Never be thankful for almost dying. Life is a lot more fucking fragile than you think. This isn’t just some joyride--” 
“--Ease up F.” You interrupted your partner as you shouldered your bag. The kid had already been through enough already: he didn’t need accosting on top of it all. 
The dashing prince sighed out and stretched his arms. “Ahhhh Cairo. It’s been a while; too long actually.” 
The airport was humid: the kind of sticky warmth that dripped down your neck in a matter of seconds to then get caught above your lip. It wasn’t much help to the anxiety that already had seeped into your veins. The closer you got to a gun the more comfortable you would be. You and the other two guards created a formation around the prince with two in the front and the other in the flank. While each of you were dressed in regular street clothes, your responsibility of his detail still hung over your head with a severe air. 
Chan threw his arm over the young student with an obscene grin. His hair had become a little disheveled from the plane seat and his hoodie, but he didn’t appear to mind. Seeing him so normal was somewhat of an odd change to your previous unbreakable impression of him. 
“Seungmin my friend, you’ve never lived until you’ve been to Cairo. I’ve never seen another place so enriched in history in my whole life...it puts my kingdom to shame. It’s almost like...you can just feel the time here: hundreds of thousands of years...beauty, art, food, industry...I’ve got a thing or two to learn.” 
Seungmin nodded at the prince’s grandiose gestures in the terminal with an enamored smile. “I can’t wait to see it!” 
Your partner put a firm hand on the prince’s back to guide him to the baggage claim. “We won’t be here for long, so, don’t get too excited. We’ve come here for one reason and we shouldn’t dally otherwise.” 
The young boy appeared to frown, and Two bit his lip with a little chuckle. “Way to crush the kids dreams F.” 
“You know the mission, J.” Jeongin gritted his teeth with the words. “Everything is set, there will be a car waiting for us in the garage, and at the hotel we’ll have anything we need.” 
Prince Chan lulled his head back with heels clicking on the flooring. Rogue strands of his hair hung over his sunglasses where he threw a look back at you while pulling them down. 
“Don’t forget our little deal Bee? We’ll have time for a little pleasure.” 
The white haired agent rolled his eyes with gusto then adjusted the royal’s glasses over his face. “We’ve still got to be careful, you Highness. We never know where they could have eyes.” 
“I know where I’ve got mine...” He turned back once more to throw his cockiness in your general direction. 
“Listen to F, your Highness...if you want to live.” 
“Oooo. Feisty as ever, Bee. I love it when you bite back.” Chan turned to his new pet, Seungmin, “She’s really something isn’t she?”
The young man nodded, but not necessarily because he agreed, but it just seemed like it better to agree with a prince than to disagree with him. 
The air appeared to turn even thicker in the summery and arid city and your group approached the parking lot half shaded. Outside of the cement lot, iridescent waves of heat wiggled on the horizon, and further, the astonishing urban sprawl of Cairo, and just over it, the stretch of the Nile and Giza. Palms and other varieties of plants spotted the landscape and above it all, a perfectly crystal blue sky streaked with thin clouds. Had the circumstances been different, you really would have wished to have been there for pleasure. 
“This one. Right here.” Jeongin announced upon spotting the black armored sedan. It wasn’t the most inconspicuous vehicle, but you were prioritizing safety over aesthetics. Your partner touched his index fingerprint to the car door’s invisible panel, and it flashed blue just as the lock had at the safehouse with the ticking clock insignia. 
Two whipped his head around to make one last check of the surroundings before taking off his sunglasses and reddened eye. “Get in. Both of you.” He urged the prince and the student. He popped the drivers side open to find a different pair of glasses in the storage compartment: gold framed aviators. 
“Huh,” He said happily while putting them on. “This is more my style.” He rummaged around a bit more to find a new pair of black framed glasses there too. “Fox! Think fast!” He threw them over to your partner who sighed out with relief. 
“Thank god.” 
The trunk opened with a mechanical sounding creek, and you lifted up the trunk bed to find your whole arsenal: Heckler & Koch MP5′s submachines, Remington 870 shotguns, and Glocks complete with thigh holsters. Among the pile of metal, various knives and other weapons were held in foam holders. 
“They’ve got knives back there?” Two asked while pulling the rearview mirror to see. 
“Oh yeah. What? You more of a knife guy?” You teased while looping your thigh holster over your cargo pants. It fit just right. 
The illusive man popped his gum with a shiny smile. “‘Don’t ever have to reload them...that’s what I’m saying.” 
“Thank you Carroll.” Jeongin sighed upon seeing the thick laptop among the weapons. “Finally I can do some real work. That kid’s damn Chromebook was killing me. I nearly short circuited it trying to connect to our network.” 
“You what?!” Seungmin was suddenly much more interested. 
“Dont worry yourself too much, its still fine.” 
“Are there cameras in here?” You quickly asked your partner. 
“Agency should’ve fried them a long time ago. Why?” 
From the trunk bed you sized up the Glock to feel its weight and how cool it settled into your sweating hand. You unloaded the magazine to see that it had already been filled. 
“Carroll. She really is too kind to us.” You slid the magazine back in then, pulled back the slider to lock it once more, catching Chan’s adoring glance. 
“Something interesting pretty boy?” 
The prince appeared to shiver a little, but brushed it off sighing, “Oh, nothing.” 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
Either it was Carroll or the King, but someone had spared no expense on the young prince. The sun set upon the sparking Nile where you had arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel Cairo at Nile Plaza. 
Anything for His Royal Highness The Prince. 
The towering and gleaming building was a sight to behold in and of itself. It was nestled right into the riverside anchored with several leisurely sailboats bopping in the evening breeze. As day crept into night, the city grew with a swell of lights washing as far as you could see. Extensive bridges and roadways glowed with headlights and every building appeared to be illuminated along with more boats strolling down the river in a rainbow of colors and music. 
The prince craned his head as close to the window as he could and rubbed together his hands excitedly. He looked from you to your partners, finally making a disapproving scoff. 
“Come on. You’re not just a little excited to be here?” 
“We’re here on business, how many times do we have to explain?” Jeongin typed away at his computer from the front seat. 
“Bee?” He looked back to you with a hopeful little glint to his eye. 
“Like Fox said...tomorrow is our appointment with White Rabbit, then we’re on the first flight back home for you.” 
The young prince frowned, but this quickly faded once he had seen the golden brass doors to the magnificent hotel. Seeing the state that the four of you were in, it was a bit comical that you had rolled up to a place such as this. Immediately a valet and bellhop jogged up to the car wearing perfectly pressed uniforms and spotless shined shoes. Little did they know you had no belongings to your name...the rest was waiting in your suite: the royal kind. 
Seungmin cranked his neck to take in the scale of the building in all of it’s regal glory and let out an airy laugh his with his backpack straps snapped tight. 
“Holy shit.” He exclaimed with a giant smile 
Two rose a “no thank you” hand to the valet, and asked him where the garage was in perfect Arabic. The gesture surprised you...as many things did with that man. Jeongin gave a little nod in appreciation to the bellhop and expressed with his own broken version of Arabic that you group had no luggage. The young man was confused, but still gladly took the bills that Jeongin had slipped into his hand for the inconvenience. 
“We’re staying here?” Seungmin wondered while he followed you in. 
“When you travel with The Prince, it comes with some perks.” Chan tore off his glasses with a particularly prideful grin. 
“I feel like I need to pay for just...breathing in here.” 
Indeed, it was a luxurious and grand place. The atrium was patterned with various plush lounge chairs and benches and the path was made of emerald green marble tiles with swirling designs of beige loops. Thick, round columns also supported the ceilings in the lobby, and crystal glass chandeliers sparkled. On several tables, massive floral arrangements had been freshly placed, and you wondered how much the hotel must've paid for them to look that good just to have them replaced the next day. 
A couple formalities were exchanged with the worker at the front desk, and soon the keycards to the royal suite were placed into your hands. Seungmin held his piece of plastic as if it were a gold bar in his hands whereas Chan shoved it right into his front pocket. 
“Everything that we should need should be up in the room.” You told the group who were too distracted to hear what you had just said. 
Just before you had entered the elevator, a tug at your sleeve stopped you in your tracks. Jeongin pulled you back, nodding at Two to go with the others up first. 
“Remember what we talked about before?” He muttered in the hollow and stone corridor. “About the prince?” 
“I need to stay beside him?” 
Your partner nodded with a furrowing brow. “We’re out in the open here, it’s a big city...anyone could be watching us. No distractions, no messing around, no anything. We see White Rabbit and we leave. Hell, I’m even inclined to make sure he doesn’t leave the room...” 
“Jeongin...” You squeezed your partner’s shoulder which felt stringy and tense under your fingertips. “I got it. Trust me. He won’t leave my sight. I promise.” 
“..Okay.” He said with a nervous brush to his hair, then he pressed the elevator button with his knuckle. 
“You...okay?” 
The young man appeared to snap out of a trance. “What? ...Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m keeping it together fine. It’s just...there’s a lot riding on this mission. I don’t...” 
The gold and reflective elevator dinged to the ground floor. 
“We can’t disappoint Carroll with this one. There’s too much riding on it...I can’t disappoint Carroll.”      
You invited your partner into the marbled and mirrored interior of the small space. 
“Don’t worry, we won’t.”
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━ 
 Even without the help of his royal helpers, Chan managed to clean himself up nice...provided, only the finest clothes had been sent for him to wear. While they weren’t the usual designer labels that he was used to, it was clear that they had been picked out from the finest markets and boutiques in the area. Chan, as he always was, was a prince to the full extent of the word. After a shower and some perfume to his chest, he was the same man that you had been introduced to. 
A loose linen shirt swayed from his frame with little regard for the usage of buttons. He wore slacks that had been pressed made of a kind of fabric that you had never seen before, but looked airy and comfortable. As always, there was a small assortment of shoes for him to choose from as well. He picked brown leather loafers, then tucked up his sleeves to reveal his arms; scratched as they were, but still strong and spiderwebbed with thick veins. 
Arrangements had been made for you to share one of the bedrooms with him--as much as you had fought it at first. Chan was thrilled with the idea, and gladly let you settle into his room with your small assortment of sidepieces and modest set of clothes by regulation of The Agency. While it had mostly been denim button downs and several kinds of functional trousers, they had sent an evening gown. 
The silky white fabric was not unlike the dress that had worn for the gala, but it appeared to be even more sultry once you held it to your frame. The thin spaghetti straps barely held to your shoulders and the back dipped nearly halfway down your back. 
Knowing the man that you had an appointment with, you figured the dress would make it just a little bit easier to talk to him. Along with it, there was a matching set of diamond earrings and a necklace that glinted with the same sheen of the sea. 
“You’ll look gorgeous in that.” Chan said while slipping on a wristwatch. “I’m sure that it will suit you perfectly.” 
The wooden bedside nightstand creaked when you put your holster and Glock in with a matching matte black knife. You had to be careful with that one, as it had nearly cut your finger upon inspection earlier.         
“Hm. I think the both of us know that you’d prefer it on these lovely marble floors rather than on me. Correct?” 
The confident prince strode across the room in the dim lighting of a couple lamps with stained glass shades. Outside of the balcony attached to your room, the sheer curtains blew in the night air and distorted the city lights across the river. Further, Cairo Tower surged with a pink light wrapping around the length were the cylinder pierced the sky. 
“Maybe.” He tutted, then crinkled the king-sized bed where he sat. The prince’s disposition was alluring, there was no denying. He tiled his head to inspect you further, jaw clenching with a sharp angle and a testing glare to his brown pupils. The man smiled slightly while rubbing his index and ring finger down the sleeve of your considerably less scratchy blouse. 
“I hope that during our time here Bee, I’ll get to know you a little better. I’m...really looking forward to our drink later. I made reservations for us.” 
“Reservations? When did you do that?” 
“Oh. When you were showering.” He smirked at his sneaky plans unbeknownst to you. 
“If you think that I’m letting you go anywhere else besides this hotel--” 
“--Bee?” The young royal grew quieter, softer, careful even. His hand cascaded from your arm down to your waist where he tentatively went to grab at your hip and squeeze lightly there. 
While your first reaction was to swat him away, your second crept up on you unexpectedly, and swelled with a kind of confused euphoria feeling the pressure of him on your body. You let his hand linger there, thumb pressed into your hipbone. 
“You don’t need that dress to be beautiful.” 
His words snapped you back; sickly sweet, and sticky in your chest. You cast his hand off of you. 
“You’re crossing the line, your Highness. Don’t...don’t touch me again.” 
The royal sighed as he rose, then inspected his face in the sizeable mirror. Each of his cuts and scars had been skillfully covered with makeup the best he could manage.  
“Bee, I’d cross multiple lines for you. I thought you knew?”    
“THIS BED IS FUCKIN’ AMAZING!!” Seungmin called from the opposite of the suite. 
The prince smiled, then followed you to the door. 
“I’ve already got enough on my hands, your Highness. I ask that you not distract me.” 
“Distract you?” 
As soon as you had said it, regret bit at the tips of your ears. You couldn’t meet his teasing glances, but rather slid one of your more discrete sidepieces into your crossbody bag--as if guns as such could be such a thing. 
“I-I...I’ll sleep on the couch.” You then resolved out loud, however the prince chuckled at your sudden break. 
“As you wish Bee.” 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
“I think that this is the best meal that I’ve ever eaten in my entire life!!” 
Seungmin kicked his legs under the table to the embarrassed glances of both Jeongin and Chan. Before you, the prince had ordered a variety of both cold and hot mezzah dishes with a couple main entrees for you to share. While he was the only one to drink, he indulged in the most expensive wine that the hotel had to offer. Granted, everything would be paid for in cash from The Agency, however the Prince swore up and down that anyone could order anything that they wanted and that The Agency would be paid back in full. You and your partners ate modestly, however the young student didn’t hold back. As the boy shoved his face, it appeared to make the prince happy to see him eating so well. 
You were still an odd group, and garnered curious glances from other restaurant guests. While they were only glances in passing, they still didn’t make you feel any better. You had already drawn enough attention to yourself with you being an odd mix of foreigners who each held themselves differently. You could sense that you partner felt it too while he sipped at his seasonal soup with eyes up to scan the room as he did so. 
Chan threw his arm behind your chair to take in the rest of the room: perfectly decorated with jade green chandeliers and perfectly symmetrical wallpaper and furnishings. It was as if he felt somehow content with your strange little group; like he was the ringleader of it all or some king of the round table. For a moment, he paused to watch the way that the boats passed by on the river from the window nearest to him and sighed. Knowing him, he was probably enjoying running for his life in this way. 
Two cleared his throat and unbuttoned his fashionable suit jacket as the waiters came to clear the table for dessert. 
“So. What are the specs for tomorrow?” 
Jeongin fiddled with his glasses, then dabbed away at the corners of his mouth. “He’s invited us to come around 11pm. He wants us to dress up too--as I’m sure you’ve all seen the clothes that have been provided for us. He apparently loves his formalities, but, anything to make him feel more comfortable I suppose. His men will meet us in the front and take us to him, then we try our best not to fuck it up.”
“--Which we won’t.” You soothed your partner. 
Seungmin perked up, “I’m coming too?” 
“How else are we going to look after ya, kid?” Two ruffled up the young man’s hair. 
“W-wait. Didn’t you say that it’s a club? Will they even let me in? I’m not like, 21 yet? I mean, I will be in a couple months--” 
“--Ahhh you’re so cute.” Chan beamed. “If you’re rolling with us that doesn’t matter.” 
Seungmin blushed and played with the condensation of his water glass. “Oh.” 
Your partner shifted in his seat. “Speaking of. Considering that you’re “one of us” now. We need to discuss something important with you. Your identity.” He looked over to you to finish the rest of the speech that had been pushed off for just a bit too long. 
“Your name...is your most valuable asset. It’s the only thing about yourself that you can keep for yourself. No one else should know it besides you...and, well, us. If they know your name, they know your family, they know where you live, where you go to school, even that girl that you had a crush on in the fourth grade. Got it?” 
Seungmin gulped dry with blown out eyes. “I-I think that I understand.” 
“What do you want us to call you from now on?” 
He paused, considering towards the ceiling. ”Well...if you’re B, and he’s F...and he’s J...I could be S? Simple enough right?” 
“S it is then.” 
The waiters arrived with every dessert possible: chocolate cake, Crème Brule, fruit cheesecake garnished with mint, as well as traditional desserts like Om Ali and Mehalabiya--a type of milk pudding dressed with delicate, pink, edible flowers. 
Seungmin--now dubbed S--made happy little eating sounds while he tried a little bit of everything. 
“Thank you.” You finally spoke to the prince, who now smelled strongly of Lotus and Jasmine. 
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind treating my friends.” 
The word hung in the air, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it. 
Friends. 
“Where is this reservation that you mentioned?” 
He took a swing from his crystal glass with finesse. “Hm. That’s for me to know and you to find out.” 
“Jeongin told me that I need to keep an eye on you, you know that? It would be best if we didn’t leave the hotel at all--” 
“--But what would be the fun in that?” The prince nearly pouted. 
From the others side of the table, Two in his aviators brushed off his lap before standing. “I’m going to get some sleep, if that’s alright with you? I’m feeling pretty jetlagged and I want to be prepared for tomorrow. Excuse me.” 
The slender man bowed to you at the table, then even deeper to the prince. 
“What was that about?” Jeongin muttered while he poked at the thin caramel layer of his French dessert. 
“Actually, I think I want to head to bed too, I’m stuffed.” Seungmin rubbed his belly in his contentment. “Also...I think I might have homework due...heh. I don’t know...I’ve got to figure out all these all these time differences and stuff.” He pushed in his chair then gave the prince a deep bow. “Thank you, your Highness.” 
“My pleasure.” Chan said with a tiny bow back. “Rest up, kid.” 
With the empty holes at the table, the silence was deafening. 
“And then there were three.” Jeongin yawned. “Bee? Wanna do some laps in the morning? I saw that they had a pool? Wanna see if you can beat my record...again?” 
“Psh. I was coming off that biochemical cocktail the last time we tired. You had an advantage.” 
“Then you’ll beat me? Hm! I look forward to that.” Your adorable partner flashed the first smile that you’d seen in a couple days. You missed it, you realized. 
“Sleep tight Bee. Goodnight your Highness.” 
“Thank you Fox.” The prince mirrored his warm smile. 
Knives and forks clinked on china in the dining room, and music softly payed the soundtrack of the evening. A low hum filled the space where the tourists and patrons chatted among themselves. It was peaceful and normal amidst everything that had been pricking your skin and plaguing worry over your mind. The prince merely sighed, sparking eyes reflecting the candles dying out on the table. 
“And now it’s just the two of us.” 
“Seems like it.” 
“Can I whisk you away now?” 
“Whisk? Who said that I would allow any whisking?” 
“Come on...Bee. Just this one time? I promise to be on my best behavior.” 
You laughed out incredulously at the comment. “You out of all people can’t promise something like that.” 
“I guess you’re right about that. But...still, I won’t try to make a scene or anything.” 
The royal placed his napkin on the table with his knife and fork respectfully tilted off the edge of his plate. 
“Follow me?” 
Chan held out his hand. It was pink with heat and scraped a little from the glass that had pierced the fragile flesh. In some way, you had felt a twinge of guilt seeing the small injury knowing that you couldn’t have protected him well enough then. You allowed him to lace your fingers with yours, and felt the rough cuts of his scars in your palm. 
You had promised to yourself that he would never know such pain again. 
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
“Annnd...this is it!” 
You had taken all of twenty paces outside of the hotel when Chan gestured with open arms to the riverfront. Just at the riverbank, a steamboat was anchored with open doors for hotel guests to enter. The massive, multideck, white steamboat shone like the moon peaking at the ocean’s horizon. Each of the semi-circle windows were lined with white lights and from the inside, the delightful sound of laugher and live music spilled out to the glossy water of the Nile. 
“W-what is this?” 
“Well…it’s a dinner cruise but I just signed us up for the bar part. Are you...surprised? I thought that it must be pretty safe considering that we’re on the water and no one can drive up and shoot at us.” 
“I mean...it’s a bit closed off, but nothing that I can’t handle.” 
The prince held out his arm for you to lead the way, then took your hand to help you watch your step down the stairs. Chan provided his name to the conductor in elegant sounding Arabic, leaving you shocked. 
“Y-you speak Arabic too?” 
Chan chuckled once more, taking your hand in his to bring you down the creaking wood deck with swinging with lanterns above your heads. 
“As a royal and diplomat, it’s best for me to know how to communicate if I might need to.” 
“I must say your Highness, I am definitely impressed.” 
“What? You thought I was just another pretty face?” The charming prince escorted you to a room within the steamboat that was lined with red velvet carpets and small bar tables with tea candles and water lilies floating in a shallow dish. He pulled out your chair before his own, then settled with hands folded in his lap. “I’m trained in hand-to-hand too, although I could use a refresher; that was so long ago, back when I went to school.” 
“Hand-to-hand? Well! You really are full of surprises.” 
The prince appeared smug and faintly amused by the compliment as he crossed his legs under the table and leaned in with his dizzying floral scent. 
The waitress appeared and Chan flexed his language skills once more while he ordered a Hemmingway Daiquiri for himself and a French 75 for you. Somewhere off in the distance or perhaps a different part of the boat, louder and more excitable music played along with the echoing claps of those who listened along. Here, it was much quieter, and the loud sound was replaced with a jazz song that you had heard before--likely from your more formative years. 
“It’s a beautiful night.” Chan began, “Thank you for agreeing to do this with me. I know that I’ve been a bit forward, but, I appreciate you entertaining me.” 
“If I had said no, what would’ve happened then?” 
“Well, maybe I would’ve dropped it, but...knowing you...I don’t think that I would’ve given up easily.” 
The waitress returned with the drinks on a silver platter: his grapefruit pink and yours the color of a lemon drop. 
The royal rose his glass for you to clink with yours, “To...adventures.” 
“To adventures.” 
With a resounding sound, the glasses met, and you watched the way that the shimmering liquid ripped across the prince’s nose. 
The two of you sat for several moments more, saying nothing, but sipping and soaking in the night breeze and the humidity that made your whole body feel blanketed with a sense of calm. You had felt this way before back at the safe house, and it snuck up on you once more. Simply exisiting with the prince provided you with a sense of solace that had long since faded from your life. The sense of responsibility that you felt for the man was noticeable, but you couldn’t help but notice how he provided for you the same sense of safety that you did for him. 
Perhaps it was the loneliness of the job and the solitude that came along with it. Was that you craved to be touched? Listened to? Admired? You had distanced yourself from irrational things such as love and other feelings of attachment. In your line of work, people died often, and you had to move on just as fast as their lives had been taken from them. You supposed that you had become unfeeling at this point...but this prince, so full of himself and focused on the material...there was something about him that reminded you how to feel. 
“Bee? What are you thinking about?” He asked carefully. 
“Oh...nothing.” 
“You looked kind of lost here.” 
“Was I?” 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah...yeah. I’m fine. Maybe the drink is just...getting to me.” 
“Just one drink?” Chan giggled a bit, “I didn’t take you for being a lightweight Bee. I thought that they gave you like, drinking lessons or something back at that agency of yours.” 
“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have more than one drink anyway.” 
The prince nodded, understanding. “So, what will you tell me about yourself? Is there anything that you’re allowed to tell me? Or...will you always be this mysterious, beautiful, enigma?” 
“Me? Enigmatic? Ha! Hardly.” 
“Well? What then?” The prince sucked at the lime garnishing his glass. “Since I don’t have the pleasure of knowing your real name, I’d love it if you could tell me something.” 
Over the stereo, the muted trumpet played along with the twang of thick upright bass strings,
“I suppose I could tell you how...” Chan leaned in, “I didn’t want to join The Agency. At first.” 
“Oh? Why’s that?” 
“It felt like a bit of a last resort and anything that is a last resort is something that can’t come easy.” 
Chan titled his head as if to say, I’m listening. 
“Life...fucking sucks sometimes. Sometimes...you’re left...living with your sleazy uncle with a letter addressed to you post mortem telling you to carry on the family name if you want to feel some connection to the parents that you never knew.” 
The royal cast his eyes down, “I-I’m so sorry.” 
“The Agency has been everything I’ve known since I was a teenager. This life...it’s everything. I think in a way I feel obligated to it...since it was what took my parents from me...I owe it to them to do a job that they spent so much energy on so that it wasn’t in vain.” 
You stopped, realizing the weight of your words in the air and how they cut like the blade of the knife that you kept tucked in your waistband sheathed in a leather cover. Once the sharp metal was taken from it’s confines, there was nothing to protect those from the damage it could do. 
“Bee...I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. That’s terrible. I can’t imagine what it must be like to loose your parents and have been thrown into this life...no one deserves that.” 
“Its okay.” You sighed. “I did it to myself. Now, it’s of no concern. I can take care of my own, and I have a new family. I try not to look back.” 
As he had done numerous times before that night, Chan’s hand reached out for yours under the table, brushing up against the white cloth. 
“I can’t say how much I appreciate you enough for what you do; risking your life for me...I owe you everything Bee.” The prince softened, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. 
The chug of the steamboat hissed softly behind you in that back bar room, and just through the windows, you could see the stars dotting the sky just as they did in any corner of the world. They were a reminder that while some things changed, others didn’t. 
The echo of footsteps on the deck clicked, causing you to turn a careful glance back to the direction of the sound. The man who entered was dressed in a casual cotton button up and navy slacks. On the white of his breast, he wore a pin holding the symbol of a crest.
“Lee Minho?” Chan gasped. 
“Your Highness!” The handsome man bowed immediately with a startled little smile. 
The friendly prince stood immediately upon seeing the other royal to shake his hand. “What a coincidence that we meet again!” 
Lee Minho shied with a polite smile while fiddling with his hair that looked to be masterfully styled. “Must be...fated. Or something like that.” 
“Are you alright? Last I saw you was at the shooting at the gala. I’m so glad to see that you’re safe. You didn’t get injured I hope?” 
This close, Lee Minho had oddly cat-like eyes that were as intense as they were alluring. He was just as you had remembered him to be--put together and polished like a true royal, dastardly handsome with all the right curves to his body, and just enough mystery to him to pique the interest of anyone who had sensed his air--just as the prince had. 
“What are you doing in Cairo?” Chan asked, gesturing for the stranger to pull up a chair. 
Lee Minho swatted away the question with an annoyed cringe. “Royal stuff, you know how it goes. Everyone is always trying to poke their noses in places where they shouldn’t be...unless they’re looking to get themselves killed. That's why they send me. I’m dispensable.” 
“Oh, I’d hardly say that.” 
In seconds the prince’s entire body had shifted towards the direction of the other man, and hung onto each of his words as if they were a siren song. 
“When you’re not as high up in the ranks as you are your Highness, royalty starts to feel more like servitude than a legitimate position.” 
“So, where are you poking your nose?” 
Lee Minho’s eyes nervously flicked to you, and Chan realized that he had skipped right over introductions. 
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce the two of you. Minho, this is Bee, my--” 
“--I’m a member of his detail.” You spoke for him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you formally Lee Minho. I recall seeing you at the gala.” 
Minho bowed slightly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” 
It was obvious that you had made the man uncomfortable, just as you had liked it to be. While you could see what the prince had seen in him, you had the disposition to be much less trusting than his Highness. 
“Which royals are employing you? I’d love to know! It’s always exciting for me to learn about who is plotting what. The royal drama keeps me really entertained.” 
Minho sat up straighter, then waved a hand for the waitress to come scuttling over. 
“Some of my family members. You wouldn’t know them, we’re all dreadfully insignificant to be honest. They heard all this business about those men with the red crests and they’re starting to get scared. After they targeted...you, they’re wondering which royal family might be next...if any. I’m here to find out who they are, their whereabouts, anything else.” 
“Wow! That’s actually what we--”
“--And where are you planning on getting this information if I may ask?” You hushed the prince’s loose lips as quickly as you could. 
Minho leaned in over the flickering candle to lower his tone, “I heard that there’s an informant here in the city who might now something about this group. They’ve been popping up on national news too as of late. I’m looking to talk to him tomorrow evening. Luckily, I was able to make an appointment but it was no small feat. I had to bribe him to high hell to get him to speak with me.” 
“Hm. Sounds familiar.” You mumbled. 
Chan’s eyes widened, then he looked back to you to ask for permission. You gave him a nod.
“It seems like we’re here for a common purpose my friend.” The prince leaned in to bridge the gap between them, his hand notably reaching to rest on the other man’s thigh below the table’s surface. “We’re seeking similar information and I think we might be speaking of the same informant.” 
“But your Highness, isn’t it dangerous it you to do something like this?” 
“Not when I’ve got her around.” Chan threw a sly grin to you across the table. “I’m well protected. And you? Where’s your detail?” 
“I’m afraid that I’m out here alone. Like I said, when you’re as low in the ranks as I am...” 
“What? That’s terrible!! They aren’t even protecting their own? Bee!!” 
“Yes, your Highness?” You already knew where this was going. 
“Let’s bring Minho along with us tomorrow! We know that there’s safety in numbers--” 
“Your Highness, in case you haven’t noticed, our hands are already a bit full...”
“I can fend for myself.” Lee Minho suddenly piped. “Travelling alone, I’ve picked up a few things about protecting myself. You don’t have to protect me, but, I appreciate the offer.” 
“Nonsense! You should come with us! I would feel more comfortable if you did rather than went by yourself.” 
Lee Minho gave the royal a smile in his thanks, it was pure and a little adorable you had considered...but that was likely the champagne going to your head. 
“Really? I appreciate it, your Highness.” 
While you were distanced, you nearly could’ve sworn that the prince had squeezed the other’s leg reassuringly, and you were willing to bet he had rubbed it with his thumb too just as he had done to you. 
After long, the waitress returned with Lee Minho’s drink, and the two men chatted like old college buddies while you slipped away at your drink in an attempt to make it last as long as you could. While Chan did try to engage you in conversation, it would never last for long until he would become puppy-eyed over the stranger again. In the end, you wondered if the tipsy prince would’ve also confessed to this man if he had one too many drinks. 
The table bumped with their jovial and restless legs, and you could only imagine what wandering hands sought to discover. 
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The hotel was quiet save for the click of heels on the marble floors from ladies who had just gotten off the steamboat and clung to their husbands in their drunken stupor. They cackled in the empty and golden lobby, then pressed hasty kisses into the stuttering mouths of their husbands who’s mouths then smeared with hot pick lipstick. Chan giggled at the sight while he tripped over his own feet too. 
“Ahhhh. Being in love is so cute.” He adored them once you had entered the elevator. 
“You’re not going to throw up on me, are you?” 
The prince hiccupped, then shook his head. “Unlike you I know how to hold my liquor. I’m fine. Just a bit sleepy I think. Must be the jet lag.” 
The tones for each floor beeped in the compartment, and Chan lulled his head back and forth. 
“So. Lee Minho huh?” You said, not even able to help yourself. The alcohol had brought you a bit of an edge...so you thought. 
“Lee. Minho.” He sighed out dreamily. “What do you think of him?” 
“I think I can’t trust anyone as long as I haven’t ran at least three background checks on them.” 
“Awww, Bee, you’re so thoughtful of me.” 
In the empty hallway, the prince with squinting eyes leaned against the doorframe to the royal suite, reaching out to brush up against your blouse once more. You let him, excusing his drunken state. After he did so, his eyes hazed over with something much different, while he looked exhausted, it was laced with something else: something much more longing. 
“Bee...fuck, I really want to kiss you again.” 
“Hm. That’s ripe coming from you who was just viciously flirting with Lee Minho.” 
You could see his head spinning in his dilated pupils. “What?” 
The door clicked open and you less than gracefully lead the prince through the dark to your shared bedroom. 
“B-Bee, what are you talking about?” 
You scoffed, “I’m not blind, you know.” 
“A-are you...jealous?” 
“W-what? Fuck no. I’m just...you can’t just...toss people around thinking that they’ll all bend to you.” 
Chan sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed at his temples when you turned one of the lamps on. 
“I-I was doing that?” 
You tore a pillow from the bed as well as the throw blanket at the end. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Good evening, your Highness.” 
“Wait! Bee!” The young prince stumbled after you, stubbing his toe against the bedpost in the process. “Ah-FUCK!” He grunted. 
“What?” You growled back to him, half shrouded in the darkness of the suite living room. 
The royal stumbled out, eyes blank and backlit from the bedroom. While you couldn’t see him fully, you later could assume that there was something in him terribly torn and ripped in that moment that made little sense to him, as it did to you to. 
Arms reached out, bodies softly illuminated by the lights of the city, and the prince leaned himself fully into you, pressing bitter tasting lips to yours with a heat and desire that only seemed amplified the breather he had gotten. While he tasted of lime and grapefruits, with a twinge of alcohol. He was just as addictive as any vice. You wanted to feel him. As infuriating as he was, and oblivious, your abhorrence to him was just as strong as your attraction. 
“Mm, Bee--” He moaned directly into your mouth while shuffling both of you back to the bedroom. 
The prince’s trembling breath floated from his mouth to yours where he used both of his large hands to pull your face closer to his. You knew that in some way, there must have been something ingenuine about the whole scenario, but you didn’t care too much, not when kissing him felt like something. Maybe he had kissed you out of pity, or because he really had wanted to kiss you. You broke for seconds before both of your tangled limbs hit the bed. 
“Before...you said that you wouldn’t kiss me.” 
“I didn’t make any promises...but, how come...you said that you wouldn’t hesitate...? But you kissed ba--” 
You silenced the prince’s words with your own heated kisses that made little sense, only that kissing him as such felt good. You straddled the man while his hungry fingers traced all the way down your back. The prince’s hips sunk into the cushiony mattress, and you screwed him down even harder into it with your own heated hips grinding into him with as much pressure as you could muster. 
“This is what you want, right?” You pulled at his lip with your teeth to hear him groan from it. 
“Is it...what you want?” Chan got out between more kisses. 
You could blame it on loneliness or lack of touch all that you wanted, but it wasn’t even close. 
“Wait. Wait.” Chan suddenly interjected. 
“What? What is it?” 
The prince looked up at you, that haze in his eyes now fading to something much different that wasn’t covered in the lust that he held before. 
“Bee...I-I don’t know if I want it to happen this way. It feels...it’s not...” 
“Not what?” 
He brushed his hand upward now to caress your face, lingering on the side of the peach fuzz on your cheek. “You deserve better than whatever the hell this is.” 
“Oh, so when I finally want to fuck you, you’re saying it isn’t right?” 
“I’m saying, I’m drunk, it’s late, clearly there’s something that’s upsetting you, and I want to know what it is before we do anything else. Tell me, what’s wrong?”
It might’ve been Lee fucking Minho, or it might’ve been something else much stickier for you to admit, but seeing the prince like this, it was too much. He was gorgeous under you, practically angelic looking. 
“I-I’m...complicating things.” You whispered out, and the prince softened even further. 
“That’s what it is? Bee, I told that you don’t have to worry about--” 
“--Yes. Yes I do...your Highness. I-I can’t feel...” 
“Bee--let’s just talk about--” 
The prince might’ve said more, but his words faded into murmurs once you closed his door behind you, then crawled onto the couch in Jeongin and Seungmin’s room, locking their door too. 
~🌹~
Bunch of (Ro)ses!
@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz
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majimemegoro · 7 months ago
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a tour of okudera’s house
come on in, comrades ! i turned my brightness all the way up in the game settings and I’ll be giving a tour of okudera’s house in crummy photos of my screen because my playstation never connects to internet.  theres some weird stuff, come see. I’m looking for any and all observations & fact-checking, so pipe up if you notice anything !
ok we just came in the front door and turned right. here we can see his gun and a lightswitch, as well as this little countertop that has: worn cutting board, hacksaw (probably for cutting through bones), a hammer and some other stuff idk. Maybe the little cans in the corner are gun oil. (is that a thing?)
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in the corner above the door theres tins, pristine ‘kamuro life’ boxes, and a Meat Hook.
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lets look to the left a little.we can see fish drying (not so visible in this pic, but they’ve been gutted and are being held open by sticks so the air goes inside). a big orange blanket. rope.
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moving past the orange blanket, we have a ladder on the ground, presumably the indoor ladder because i think theres one outside too. and beside the closet door theres this little shelf. It has four books on it - one on top like it was recently being read - and a little white mug with a handle. (if anyone can go in game and figure out what the books are, I will legit give you a free commission - check out my art at @otorno​)
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on the other side of the closet door we have a small cabinet matching the cabinets near the front door. On it is an old-school oil lamp and two potatoes (??????). Beside it is a cardboard box with a bunch of newspapers and, some more potatos. (Please if anyone knows what could be going on here... explain. arent potatos suposed to be stored out of the light ??? are they not potatos ?) You can also see that some parts of the wall is insulated with twigs which is pretty cool.
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above this we can see a little shelf with what looks like some paint/chemical/glue/wd40 stuff and perhaps a small toolbox or money box. hung on the wall beside the shelf are these white things. which I have no idea what they are. my best guess is some kind of sand weights, maybe for pullies or something, but i don’t know what they would be for.
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this is the whole wall furthest from the front door. the thing in the foreground is a rope and hook over the fire, for hanging a pot on. this wall feat. a bear skin, miscellaneous boxes and baskets (and a small upholstered seat maybe?), and....
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a shelf with a basket and a bunch of matching rounded-square receptacles of some kind. I don’t think theyre dishes because the bowls are somewhere else. maybe theyre for early spring planting. Theres also a grimy little towel. sorry this photo is incredibly blurry.
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now we’ll stand in that corner and look out slightly in the direction of the front wall. we can see a bunch of crates, a stool, and a fine metal shovel, probably for shovelling ashes. Just past them theres this cloth handing on a stand-up frame, which is baffling to me. if anyone has guesses about what that is for, please let me know.
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now the front door is on the far left. on the right we can see the top of the cloth on the standing frame. before us we can see: a fancy shelf with some drawers and a bit of firewood on top, a twig broom (looks homemade), two planks of recovered wood, some other stuff we’ll get to later, a *~*mysterious orange wall bucket*~* and a shelf over the door.
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This is the fancy set of shelves. I bet mr okudera keeps his ammo in some of those little drawers. The weird orange curves in the top middle are strings binding bunches of kindling. we can see the broom again, as well as some shiny containers and some bottles.
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closeup on the bottles. looks like alcohol but i guess some could be medicines or something else? weigh in please. I can’t read the labels but maybe someone else could go in-game and try. we also have the dishes he feeds saejima in.
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now as promised, some details on the wall with the front door. (Recall you can see a bit of the front door on the left, so we’re now looking down at the house’s front wall.) We have a bucket with a tiny bit of water in it, a barrel, a bear trap, sack of “Ready To Eat COMPLETE MEAL Made in USA” which apparently is like.... war rations (??). another crate. And the thing on top of the barrel, which looks like a small wooden cylinder on a long thin handle. it seems to have a little spout on the side opposite the handle, unless its just the handle coming through. im very interested to hear if anyone knows what this. Note also that the items are up on a raised plank floor because the front part of the house has a bare dirt floor ! brrr!
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look up ! this is still the front wall, but above the barrel and above the shelf we can see electrical wiring going from the switch (out of frame to the left) to the lightbulb (out of frame behind and above us). At the point of the roof there is a vent for the smoke to escape. And a set of OARS!!!! does okudera have a little boat that he uses in the summer ??? he must. that’s exciting news.
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if we turn around to face the back of the house, and look slightly up, what a view we get! theres a little glass window at the top back,and in the middle we get a) the hanging lightbulb, and b) this huge wooden apparatus hanging right in the middle. it’s over the fire - my mom proposed that it’s maybe for smoking meat ? I wonder why he isnt using it though. it’s attached to the ceiling with ropes, and looks like it can be descended at will. If it’s for storage, why isnt he keeping anything up there? its a good spot for a boat, though I don’t know how strong those ropes are.... PS it looks like there might be an upper loft area, behind the horizontal beam and by the window, but there isnt one unfortunately.
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now were standing int the front door and looking down a bit. mr okudera stores firewood under the floor, it looks like.
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heres the guy himself and a generic view on the mats and cushions. the cushions are red with a paler red pattern, and look like they’ve seen better days, as do the mats. (re: mats & sleeping, the thick quilt thing saejima has when he first wakes up is nowhere visible here. kept in the closet during the day? also, it’s a bulky item. does okduera really have more than two? somebodys gonna have to go cold or pair up...)
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can someone please explain whats going on with the fireplace. it looks like a cast iron bowl on a stand, with flat wood in it. how is that? are there coals in the bowl or something? note that he isnt cooking now.
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Thanks for visiting Okudera’s House With Me ! please let me know anything you noticed or share any thoughts. have a good day.
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quosterking · 5 months ago
Will we get to hear about Bridgers yearly visit to Dr. Louki this spring? <3
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Most certainly! It’s been a while since I’ve done some art/fic combos, and this one is like, 4500 words long, so a lengthy one to say the least!!
--------------
Aten shook himself out of a daze to the sound of Bridger’s wracking yawn. The little halfling was dressed in a casual morning wear—though, admittedly—casual for Aten was the next guy’s preemptive ritual for a formal wedding. Black suspender pants rose just over his navel, and sturdy black boots to match. He wore a cheerful, pastel-orange crop-top, gold-rimmed glasses, and all was tied together with deep eyeshadow to draw attention to his baby blue colored contacts. Only the gods could begin to know how he put himself together so fast.
“There he is,” Aten hummed over his shoulder to the sound of his goliath buddy staggering into the kitchen, dragging wooly socks across the hardwood floor, “feeling the Friday-Haul Burn?”
Bridger was indeed feeling the Friday-Haul Burn. He couldn’t remember much during the work shift just last night. Smiling faces and completed commissions, pending orders and stacking boxes, storage sorting and shelf cleaning, it was all but a blur to the poor guy. All he could recall was how good the twilight air felt against his eyelashes, and how relieving a memory foam pillow felt under his jaw.
“Yeah, I….” another pause, and Bridger’s eyebrow twitched with another huge yawn, stretching his arms above his head and holding onto the ceiling to arch his back. “Slept like an angel…”
“More like a distressed cargo ship,” Aten slid the big man the coffee pitcher; only a small cup was needed for himself, the rest Bridger usually drank black, straight from the brewer. He quirked his lip with a smile, lifting the handle and downing half of it ravishingly. Once he gave himself a moment to sigh out the warm, waking goodness, he chuckled.
“Sorry, you know I snore when I really clock out.”
“That much isn’t a stress to me, thanks to those soundproof headphones you got me for Christmas.”
Aten crawled up and over the kitchen island, using his vantage spot to wash out his mug in the attached sink. “It’s insane how long ago December was, now we’re knees deep in April…time flies, and we have that equinox festival around the corner!”
Bridger itched at his chest against his baggy t-shirt. Aten was right, it had been a while since Christmas; the informal laziness of keeping up the festive decorations until early February had knocked off his sense of time. And with February as short as it was, March was what he could safely consider as the first month of the year this time around.
“I’ve got an appointment this Saturday too…” he added after emptying the pitcher and a stifled, coffee-scented belch.
“Uh-huh,” Aten slid back to his bench stool, resting his elbows on the granite surface with a knowing smirk. “What time?”
“Thirteen o’clock,” followed a drowsy gasp, once more.
“And on what day?”
“This Saturday...how come? We got plans that day?”
“Bridger,” Aten snickered, only hiding his smile behind his small fingers, “recalibrate!! You’re off sync!”
Bridger blinked unevenly with his thick brows wound in confusion. “Saturday at thirteen…” he breathed, lifting his tablet with his fingertips, and stopping halfway through a yawn.
The eastern dragon on his wallpaper was in an eye-catching coil, hovering under the current date:
Saturday, April 10th. 11:28 AM.
Bridger’s eyes blew wide, and the espresso shots hit the pit of his stomach. He threw a baffled glare Aten’s way, messy braid whipping over his shoulder.
“And you knew?!”
“Relaaaaaax! You’ve got tiiiime~” Aten waved him off with an eyeroll, and Bridger plunged back into his room to properly dress himself. He threw open the closet doors, eyes scanning over his clothing choices; oh to be a simple man, and not a tailor with a plethora of styles to choose from.
“Time?! I have to catch the water taxi, that’s at least forty-five minutes, I can’t just sprint downtown, and the busses are gonna be swamped,” Bridger muffled in panic through a slim, long-sleeved pullover and white undershirt. He wouldn't have time to shower, and he'd have to leave his hair in the beadhead, frizzy mess it was. Feverishly, he spritzed himself with a simple cologne, and was seconds from leaving his room without pants on.
“I’ve already texted Poetry, he’s gonna bring the pickup to the dock.” Replied Aten, who was petting the wrinkly head of Bridger’s hairless cat; Annie too was roused by all of the commotion, and her curiosity had piqued.
Bridger hobbled out of his room, still pulling up his black, plaid-print pants and tying down his belt. He slid his tablet into his back pocket and patted his front ones in a moment's pause.
“Wallet,” Aten held up the leather pouch, and Bridger held out his palm to catch it while it whizzed through the air. Once secured, Bridger ducked under the front doorframe of the apartment, nearly closing it behind him before he double took, poked his head through, and huffed a “thank you” with a sincere nod.
Bridger almost missed the water taxi, which came at thirty-five. The sky had always looked it’s best around midday, and with the not-so busy streets of Tont Island, you could see the fluffy clouds when not obscured by nearly as many skyscrapers as you would downtown.
The idea of breakfast also seemed taunting for the poor man; he had only just woken up, after all, and his big stomach could only wait for so long. Alas, he had to tough it out and wipe the drool from his lip as he passed by the nearest cafes, and rushed down to the bay. With salt hanging in the air, they crossed the bay to the mainland—Bridger, accompanied by the driver and four other friendly strangers.
Upon the water is where Bridger finally got to relax and freshen up. Salty wind could do that to everyone, and it’s what he had come to name ‘the charm of the sea.’ While he was usually the type to spark up conversation and get some laughter going around on the boat to keep him company, he instead slid in his headphones and tuned in with a morning podcast. He was never the type to like boats, or any water machines; the very reason he found himself so far from his home island was in the body of a cargo boat, which had founded his phobia of them from the start. But that was nearly six years ago; now, as long as he could see the water and the world from where he was on the boat, he could chill out and not go into a panic.
The taxi cruised up along the docks, and out emerged the goliath, who scanned the beautiful cityscape of Mendacem; skyscrapers of silver and copper stretched far greater than himself, and he could feel small against the city’s magnificent visual prowess. Upon looking down through the gridded streets, life was bustling at this hour, mopeds speeding through the roads, cars and cargo trucks angrily arguing deeper within, and various centaur paths to keep the flow of traffic in at least a somewhat orderly fashion.
Bridger whipped over his shoulder as a drawn out honk rang into the air; Poetry was kicked back in the leather seat of a burgundy Toyota Tundra, ankles crossed on the dashboard. He was dressed in a black, long-sleeved crop top, golden chains hanging over his collarbone, and bright ripped jeans that led to brown, sturdy, knee-high boots. As Bridger bounded over to the driver's side, Peotry lowered the window and reached his thin hands out to hold him by the chin.
“Hey looove,” Poetry sang, kissing both sides of his cheeks, before letting him hop up into the truck’s cargo bed, “how we doing?”
“All good!” Bridger announced as the back window rolled down and the truck purred to life, “a bit tired, but I’m waking up.”
“City life will do that to you, darling~” Poetry hummed, sliding on some black shades and clicking the steering wheel with his nails as they sped down one of the main streets. Bridger fixed himself to the cargo bed, as most of it was redesigned with a seatbelt over his lap and a few cushions to serve as an emergency seat for the big guy. He adored how people would double take here and there while walking to lunch, and he would offer a wave in return. “I heard you got another cat?”
Bridger smiled at the rear view window while the Tundra halted before a traffic light. “I did! he’s an oriental shorthair, with the biggest ears.”
“He’s named?”
“Timothy! Or Tim-Tim, which he responds to more, to be honest.”
“Aren’t orientals like,” Poetry called over a bit of lip balm, “hairless? What is your thing with skin cats?!”
“Timothy has fur!!” objected Bridger, laughing. The car roared back to life as the traffic light flicked green, and they took the first left. “Annie is the hairless one. I just think they’re adorable, and plus: Annie lets me put clothes on her.”
“That is the funniest thing...she doesn’t flop over when waking around?”
“Nope, she likes them. Timothy won’t go near them. Maybe it’s a sphinx thing? Timothy likes to snuggle up to me though! More than Annie, even.”
“Ah, so Annie found herself a nice sweater and will take that over you any day, huh?” Poetry grinned into the rear view mirror, though his eyes were obscured by the sunglasses.
“Seems to be the case,” and Bridger looked out into the marketplace longingly.
“You hungry? We can stop by and grab something quick, if you like.”
Bridger waved at Poetry while shaking his head, and Poetry pushed back into acceleration, “Nah, maybe after. I don’t wanna be late.”
Poetry pulled up to the clinic and stopped the truck, taking the keys out and clicking on his phone with his long nails. He was chewing on what had to be a stick of gum, and lifted an eyebrow as Bridger brushed his pants and walked up to the window.
“Where will you be?”
“I’ll stick around till you’re done, hun,” he reassured, “we’ll grab a bite after and go from there.”
“Okay! See you in a bit, then!” Bridger nodded firmly, and Poetry waved him off with his long tail.
Opening the door and laughing with the receptionist, Bridger marveled at the fact he was only two minutes shy of being late. Luckily, this meant his wait time was almost nonexistent, as a male nurse led him back to his room. A small exchange of words and a few inquiries later, he was gone as quick as he was around. Instead, a lanky man in blue with jet black hair and wide glasses replaced him.
“Hey! Bridger? No name or pronoun changes?”
“Nope! Morning!” Bridger smiled down at Dr. Wonder while his vitals were examined, as part of average procedure; he wasted no time, extracting a pressure pump from the table and fastening it around the upper arm.
“Afternoon now! It’s one-o’clock!” He laughed after a pause to record a few numbers, releasing the valve from the pump on Bridger’s arm.
“Right! Sorry, this morning’s been a hassle, and then some! Woke up late.”
Bridger jumped harder than he should have when the reflex hammer hit his kneecap. With a blush, he apologized profusely as Dr. Wonder fixed his glasses—he performed a narrow dodge to getting a foot in the face.
“It’s all good, reflexes are—intact, to say the least. You’re here for a cleaning, yes?”
“Mhm! Just the annual,” Bridger muttered as he followed a wiggling pen with his eyes upon gentle instruction. Once all was said and done, the pen returned to the doctor’s breast pocket, and he took two paces back to jot down the last of his required notes.
“Rightly-ho! I’ll leave the rest of the papers with you, doesn’t look like you’re due for any vaccines, either! I’ll let Dr. Louki take care of the rest for you.”
“Thank you, kindly! Take care,” Bridger wished Wonder off, and he was left in silence for about four minutes before the intercom clicked on from overhead.
“Easton? May I come in?”
“Yep!” Bridger jumped a bit, looking up from his short nails as he stuffed his hands in his lap. The door opened; not the door in entirety, but a tiny door within the door, located just above its handle. From it, a Sternupix emerged, blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun, and goggles sitting against his forehead. Bridger’s face lit up with mirth. “I didn’t know they installed tiny doors for you! Isn’t that handy?”
“Remarkably! How’s the weather up there, big guy?”
“Quite nice for an early spring,” chuckled Bridger, “soggy with rain here and there, but pleasant!”
“Ahhh, lovely! And how’s this guy been?” Louki hovered above the bridge of his nose, tapping it with his hand as he pulled out a small baton. He giggled as Bridger wiggled it in thought.
“Not terrible? I haven’t been sneezing a lot, I guess I’ve just had a lot of dryness; my nose is a bit sore?”
Louki grimaced a bit, dipping below Bridger’s line of sight. His voice echoed in the intercom, which alluded to the fact he was standing face to face before one of his nostrils. “How curious...that's a new one...Have you had recent nosebleeds? Itchy throat? Any pressure up here?”
“Pressure, yeah, dry throat, I did have a nosebleed about two days ago.”
“How bad?”
“A little one, not grand…”
“Do you know the cause, at all?”
“I was rubbing my nose a bit," Recalled Bridger while scratching his head, "maybe that?”
“Hmmm…” Louki pressed the button on his baton, and it extended to a three-inch probe, bulbed at the end. Gripping the rim of his nostril, he announced, “I’m just gonna poke around and cook up a sneeze, I wanna get a see on how much mucus you’re producing.”
“Mhm!” Bridger affirmed stiffly while Louki slid on his goggles for precaution sake. There was something odd to Bridger, being induced and told to sneeze, but he didn’t have many doubts for the doctor at hand.
He blinked carefully as he felt the bulb swirl against his walls, causing his nostrils to quiver ticklishly. He probed and searched about, listening to Bridger’s shaking breath as he tried to pinpoint that sweet spot.
“How much water do you drink?” Louki pondered.
“A-about tihh...two lit...tuh—huhh!”
“There it is…” Louki whispered triumphantly as Bridger gulped tearfully. He retracted the probe back into a baton with a click, hovering out of the way as Bridger pitched forward.
“HUSSSHH’euuu!!”
“Bless you there!”
“Huh...HUURRSSHHH’euuu!!” Another forceful sneeze, both of which politely tucked into his elbow.
“Bless you! Forgot you’re a double-sneezer!”
“Mmgh! Excuse me...snff!” A very dry sniffle followed a few coughs.
“So it definitely isn’t dehydration, I think it’s pollen allergies that are drying you up. You take antihistamines, right?”
“Yeah, I do…”
“Nasal spray?”
“Pills, actually.”
“Eureka,” Louki came back into his field of view, tapping the tip of his nose as if he were selling a new car to a client, “I think I’ve got it. My hypothesis is that your mucosa has been dried out from your medicine. If you’re taking high dosage of antihistamines in pill form, than your body doesn’t produce nearly enough mucus that it needs.”
“It’s my medicine?” Bridger’s brows tightened in confusion.
“That’s what I believe: see, when you take antihistamines, you’re preventing your body from producing—well—histamine. Histamine is the stuff that dilates your blood vessels and gives you that runny nose, and it stimulates the nerves to make you sneezy. The pollen is rarely what actually makes you sneeze, unless there’s a lot of it. It’s the histamine telling your body to sneeze out the pollen. There’s some more complicated stuff involving lymph tissues and immunoglobulin-e and all of that fun stuff, but that’s the basic run-down!”
“Gotcha...so how do we fix it?”
“I can apply a nasal lubricant! It’ll provide an immediate relief and stay there for about a week or so, and the actual active ingredients help promote the production of mucus. We can switch you over to a prescribed nasal spray for—well—golliaths, given your size, but it’s a rather easy and inexpensive fix!” Louki was typing out the message on a touch screen laptop as he spoke, before hitting send and spinning round.
“Right, I guess now comes the hard part of going in there?”
Louki rounded back to his materials and equipped himself with a white harness, before clicking on a small tube of ointment onto his back. He unscrewed the cap, and once all was set, he came back to a timid and squirmish Bridger. “Not too difficult! Just a liiitle bit of a tickle. Is that alright, big guy?”
“Yep— uhm” Bridger confirmed weakly, watching Louki near his right nostril. He crinkled it in anticipation.
“Right! Let’s give it a look, yes?”
“O-okay, careful—!” He warned fluttering his long eyelashes to the feeling of tiny hands.
“As per usual! Up we go.”
Louki took a moment to get his footing while he clambered inside, adjusting the lens connecting his goggles to brighten up the place. He was surprised at the traction he had, usually he would be clumsily slipping around the inside of his nose.
“Very dry indeed! There is some redness back here though...let’s see if we can’t find a source. Surely it can’t just be the pollen?”
Louki pushed on ahead, and Bridger batted his lashes. His nose was already itching beyond belief, buzzing over his eyes and nose and making them well up with tears. A sharp, menthol scent came from his right nostril, and it took most of his mental strength not to sniff at it in curiosity. The scent of the ointment alone ticked, and it wasn’t made any better by the tiny paws that were now lathering it up against his inner nose.
“Goodness me...so chapped…” Louki hushed, scooping a dollop of ointment from over his shoulder before slathering the opening to his lower sinus with it, “he must be so so sore….”
As Louki rubbed away, he smiled as a bit of mucus began to leak from the sinus in front of him. “There we are, it’s already loosening up! Woah— woah-!”
Some of it had pooled beneath his feet, which he didn’t compensate for when he began to move again. He slipped violently, gripping the side of his nose against his inner septum with his heavily lubricated hands.
Bridger’s nose twitched sharply, and a few tears misted his lashes as his hand hovered upward. He wanted desperately to pinch and squelch his big nose, but he was well aware that such would be a terrible idea. Instead, he held his hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut against a sneezy feeling as it crawled up his throat and over his entire nose. Defeated, he gasped.
“Huhh!! Huttt-shhhtt!! Hump—shhhtt!! Huhht-kshhht!!” He stifled thrice by pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, before hissing out the last syllable. Not satisfied, his nostrils flared, and for a moment, his shoulders lurched, but he was able to swallow down his neediness for a full sneeze.
At least, for a moment.
In the fray of holding back, Bridger gasped a second time, hovering his hands at the ready. He flashed his teeth, brows slanted sadly, begging himself to hold it in for a moment more, but he simply didn’t have that extent of control over his nose yet. Miserably, he sneezed twice more.
“HEHH’shhhhhhuu!! Huh- huh!! HEHHH’ksshhhuh! Snrrf!”
Bridger opened his huge paws to see Dr. Louki, who was just sitting up and brushing himself off, there were small, yellow flecks of pollen on his white lab coat, but beyond that, he was fine.
“Bless you there!!”
“Sorry,” Bridger whimpered, “sorry, I dunno why I sneezed so fast!”
“You look a bit irritated,” he noted,
“I promise I-I’m not!”
“No, no no no, your nose looks irritated. Your suffering from chapping, but it’s far back inside your nose.”
Bridger sniffled thoroughly, hissing a bit at the sting. “Ahh...yeah I can feel it…”
“Dry nose will do that to you, unfortunately. Ready?” Louki prompted upon nearing Bridger’s huge nose once more.
“Yeah...snff!” Nodded Bridger, who hitched immediately when Louki’s wings teased and tickled at the rims of his nostrils. “H-hhihh! I’m suhh—suhh! Huh! Sensitive there- huh- hhHHHhhoh…”
“Pardon?”
“I’m—hah—! Hatt’usshhoo!!” Bridger let out a lightweight, misty sneeze, which blew Louki out of the way. “Snff!”
“Oh!! Truly?” Louki returned curiously, pressing his hands up to the rim of his nostril, and rubbing at it with his thumbs. Indeed, Bridger whimpered and huffed, tearful eyes crossing as if trying to see him. Louki scratched his gloved finger just inside his nostril, in similar motion to giving a bird a scratch on the head.
“Snff! Snfff! K-kihh!! Hiih—! Huhh…” a sigh and a shaky hitch, “huh-hhhheeeh!!”
“Hah! Wow, that’s cute!” Laughed the sternupix, watching Bridger flush brightly In embarrassment. His antics continued, twiddling his fingers against the sensitive flesh and watching Bridger twitch and jerk in reaction to the tickle.
“Huhh..! Heh-! Hhh-hittschhhoo!!”
Bridger cupped his hands over his nose and shot forward, clearing his throat only when he let Louki free. Something about being tickled relentlessly on purpose and having it be called cute brought an burn to his cheeks.
“Sorry, I digress! Back to your chapping situation. I’m gonna treat your right nostril first, so hang tight!”
Bridger winced as Louki poked around once again, gritting miserably through the urge to sneeze. His brows lifted to unfold the wrinkles on his closed lids, lifting them open barely. He wrinkled and attempted to puff out a breath, but it drew back into his lungs the moment he let it out. A weighted pause caught his throat for a moment, palms facing his nostrils, before he cupped his hands over his nose and mouth.
“Hukk—schhoo!!” Bridger snapped forward, drawing back for a second gasp, “Hukk’shhheuu!! Snff! Oh...I’m sorry…”
“It’s alright! Quite sneezy this go-around, aren’t we?” Louki had lifted himself and dusted the grains of pollen off his coat, before aproaching Bridger’s wet septum again.
“I don’t know what’s up this t...time...usually I’m pretty good at h..holding them in…”
Wings tickling the roof of his nostril let Bridger know the pixie was back in working speed. He huffed stiffly and gasped again, breath shaking as he was blinded by his own tears clogging his ducts. He could feel Louki’s careful steps, the occasional rub or sweep, he pursed his lips tight together and cringed though what had to be the strongest urge to gulp in a lungful of air and force it out through his nose. His nostrils quivered desperately, tears slid down his cheeks.
Sweep. Sweep.
It was blinding; Bridger couldn’t even begin to think straight, with the tingles peppered throughout his sinuses. He gasped wetly, he couldn’t help it, and whimpered.
“I’m gun—hhHuhh!! HASSCHEU!!”
Louki ducked out just before Bridger snapped forward, landing on his shoulder. From such a vantage point, he watched Bridger clasp his nostrils shut with his fingers, in a miserable attempt to stifle the absolute mess that splattered his cupped palms. “Urrr—Schhheuu!!”
“Dear me—bless you there! Terribly sorry; I keep tickling your nose by mistake…”
“It’s okay! Snrkk—I promise; I’m sorry I keep sneezing you out!”
Louki extracted a tissue from the wall-mounted box, which Bridger accepted and tried his best to blow his nose into.
“That’s one side done, luckily! We’re halfway there!”
“Okay, let’s get the other done and dusted—snrff! My nose already feels drippier..”
“That’s a good sign!” Echoed the doctor from within the darkness of Bridger’s opposite nostril, before the tiny headlamp was clicked on. With Bridger’s tan skin, he could vaguely make out the orange spot where the light was traveling against his own nose. The sight of it alone, which was wandering back between his eyes, was enough to make him hitch subconsciously. There wasn’t much need to sneeze, aside from feeling Louki patting his way around; nonetheless, his breath shook and his nostrils shivered.
Bridger attempted to take a few deep breaths in hopes of calming the ridiculously insane itch that was rushing over his eyes. Consequently, a gentle inhale became a labored pant, followed by two others and a deeper gulp of air.
Inside, Louki thrashed about, pinwheeling his arms in an attempt to stabilize himself.
“Whew, goodness me!” Sighed Louki as he frantically took a dollop of ointment to smear as quick as he could. The action in itself didn’t do Bridger any favors, especially considering he was already battling on knife’s edge. “I’m going, and as quick as I can! Dear me, I know it itches…”
Chest tightened and eyes bleary with tears, the big man swept under his nostrils with the back of his fingers twice in quick succession, holding it there for the second just moments before he buckled, helpless under the control his sneezes had over him.
“Huh- hh! Hupp—chht...h-hhUHh! HUPP—xchht!” Two teeth-gritting stifles erupted from him, barely aided with two fingers held under his nose; “uhhhm...snff!”
Louki snapped forward to the contained sneeze, falling forward on his stomach, before violently tumbling back to the even stronger sniffle. He luckily grabbed his footing midway, nearly clawing at his nasal walls for a moment to stabilize himself.
“Oh geez I just sniffed—are you okay??” Bridger muttered upon realization, removing his fingers with worried eyes.
“Yeah!” Came a rather quick response, “I’m still back here, I’ll be out for good in just a moment!”
And Louki’s expedition wouldn’t be for nothing, either; in the patches of chapping he covered, the redness was already diminishing. If his sopping clothes weren’t a sign of increased mucus rates, he wasn’t sure what would be.
“Right! I think my work’s just about done!” Sighed the sternupix as he emerged from the darkness of Bridger’s nose, “how’s that feel?”
“It doesn’t burn nearly as bad, which is good!” Bridger complimented while rubbing at his nose with a finger.
“I’ll have the reception write out that nasal spray prescription, but I'd also recommend you pick up an over-the counter one as well, given it’s a first time occasion. If the issue persists after that, schedule another appointment and I’ll give it a look, yes?” Louki switched out of his scrubs and into his lab coat, resting his goggles on his forehead and throwing two thumbs up.
“Snff! Sure thing...I assume the receptionist has the slip ready too?”
“For the pharmacy, yes! Besides that, I think we’re golden! Pleasant time, Easton.” Nodded Louki sincerely, which earned a polite smile from Bridger.
“To you the same!” And he stood, dusting off his pants and bubbling his nostrils with the crumpled tissue, “thanks again!”
“With pleasure! The reception is out the door to your right!”
Bridger left the room promptly with a few stray sniffles, and Louki chuckled. “The other right, Easton!”
“Right! Right! Sorry!” Bridger’s voice clumsily re-emerged, before he walked down the correct hallway.
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blankdblank · 24 days ago
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Poke Pt 7 - Yacht Party
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Whistling in the exit of your closet Eddie took in your own toga reminiscent style dress the bright white sheer layered skirt was slit up to the upper thigh and met the golden belt that separated the base from the lace top. With thick straps in white and a low dip in the cleavage almost to the belly button that flowed out to reveal the golden glittery heels you had chosen for the event. “Wow. You need a sign to remind gentlemen to pick their jaws up off the floor.”
“Funny,” you teased, folding a stretchy pair of shorts to cover the thigh holsters for a couple of your daggers for worst case scenario that also would help keep guys from peeking up your skirt if the wind blew the slit back too widely. “I’m sure no one will care about my dress as I death grip the wall.”
“I can skip the trip to prison if you need me there.”
“I’m ok. If I feel bad I am not above fainting or breaking into hysterics to have Tony himself fly me home. Or maybe Prince Thor, I think he can fly if he has his hammer.”
“You can beat this evening. I know you can.”
After a hug for him you said, “You’ll miss visiting hours.” And he chuckled hugging you back and kissed you on your cheek taking notice of the one side of your hair braided back so you could flip the rest over to your left side knowing the boat would drive it wild no matter what you tried to do with it.
The ride didn’t calm things and from the concrete pathway to the wooden docks your focus shifted in a means to calm yourself on the pelicans and gulls who watched your stroll beyond the guards at the entrance who took your invitation shared the lit pathway would guide you to the proper ship. At the base of the plank bridge to get onto the yacht you paused hearing the guests already aboard.
Mid stare at a gull hovering above the boat in a try to focus on anything but the fact you would be out on the open ocean for who knows how long you flinched to look at Sam in his step up to your side with an impressed whistle. “My sister would die of envy seeing this ship. She loves to sail.” His eyes landed on you asking, “Ever been on a boat like this?”
“I’ve been on ferries, but I haven’t been over the open ocean yet.”
“You’ll be okay. Stark’s probably built this thing himself. Bound to be unsinkable.”
“Well, there’s a history of unsinkable ships that beg to differ when it comes to that claim.”
He chuckled and said, “We’ll be just fine. Just in case,” he said showing his duffel bag at his side holding his metal wings, “Brought my wings, things go south The Falcon’s got you.” To yourself you grinned and followed him up into the monstrosity of a boat.
Surely one that would make your ancestors weep, not just for the luxurious ability to have food storage, running clean water and plumbing but for the fact that nothing of the earth other than the single fallen tree stump of an end table was here. The wood was fake same as the faux leather seats and imitation marble finish on the metal surfaces. Nothing of this boat showed the respect boat makers used to put into building sea faring vessels to keep from displeasing the Gods in crossing the tumultuous open ocean and you guessed that might be why they always bothered you.
With legs crossed you sat with eyes fixed on the open ocean in your second level seat unable to keep on your feet to mingle in the crowded floor below. “Thirsty?” the voice at your side brought the sudden place of Prince Loki there with two drinks in hand, one of which with a pacifier band around the stem of the fruity blended drink he offered to you. “The bartender insisted I offer you this one.”
Unable to help it you chuckled and accepted the drink, “It’s a virgin margarita. Thank you.”
“What would maidenhood have to do with drink offers?” he asked and you glanced away to keep from spitting your sip of the drink on him. “Is it repulsive? I shall demand a new drink to replace it.”
You shook your head and giggled in catching his eye to say, “Virgin, when related to drinks means alcohol free.” And his eyes narrowed, “It’s illegal for people under 21 years old to drink alcohol in this country. Others it ranges from 14 to 18 depending on their culture.”
“Why would they have such variation?”
“Because hardly any of the countries share the same faiths, histories, cultures or beliefs on how they should be governed. So just stubbornness and idiocy.”
“I had hoped the drink would aid in a welcome of my company, you seemed troubled when I arrived.”
Softly you chuckled and replied, “Quite humorously for my bloodline I have a fear of open ocean outside of wooden boats.” His eyes locked onto yours in a moment of shock, “There’s no earth in this boat. Vikings paid homage to the Gods for smooth sailing across the oceans. Might just be me.”
And he grinned your way stating, “Not only you. Those who can hear Yggdrasil have higher expectations when it comes to vessels. Your ancestors would be proud you wish to honor their traditions, the ocean is not a fair mistress, she is an insurmountable warrior, she demands respect.”
“How have your candles and soaps been?” You asked to change the subject, uncertain of what meaning his lingering stare into your eyes meant.
“Quite exquisite. Thank you again for your care in crafting the mixtures for us to our likings. Your customers have been favorable of temperament?”
“For the most part. Before the shoes Natasha and Steve bought me I got shunned a bit because of my clearly worn name brand shoes, but the new ones have helped to give me a bit of credit to my image. Used to be called an immigrant and now people are asking if I’m paying my dues in the entertainment or beauty world until I get my big break. When Stark came in I almost thought he would just order enough to use that as a means to force me to accept the money he offered.”
“What should it matter what shoes you wear when you are working?”
“The shop has an image to uphold for their most superficial of clientele.”
“Should they ever release you from employment alert my brother and myself and we shall raze the building to cinders.” That had you giggle around your next sip and he said, “You doubt my loyalty.”
“Not at all, Prince Loki. Merely I question how Stark would handle the discovery of who was behind the attack after he’s vetted you both as Heroes.”
“Not one person in my lifetime has been foolish enough to dub me a Hero. I am the God of Mischief and Deceit.”
His eyes lowered to the hand you offered him that his rose palm up to accept, “Fool, right here, pleasure to meet you.” To himself he chuckled and smiled in a glance away. “See, that smile,” he glanced back and chuckled again as you said, “Pure sunshine. You can’t convince me there’s evil in there no matter how many times you stab your brother.”
“I unleashed an army on New  York,”
“Oh who hasn’t unleashed havoc on New York. Havoc is the new pink pumps of the season, everybody has to have some. New York, Washington, California, your brother leveled a town in New  Mexico. Now you go and attack Rhode Island or someplace small like that then we can talk crossing into unthinkable territory, which is seven miles below evil. You have to earn evil.”
He smirked and at the notice he was still holding your hand he released it to take hold of his drink for a sip to break his stare only to look down at that hand resting on his knee when the boat began to pull away from the dock. “I murdered my birth father.” He blurted out as if to try and not lie to you or make you believe he was anything but evil as most from his planet thought.
“Did he raise you?”
“No.”
“Were you close or just a birthday card once a year type of situation?”
“He abandoned me at birth in a frozen tundra in the midst of a battle between the Jotuns and Asgardians and never acknowledged me as his child or that I even existed.”
You nodded and said, “Selfish quim had it coming then.” Throatily to your sip of your drink he chuckled and bubbled into a few moments of unforgiving laughter. “I’d pick Frigg as a mother any day over that bastard.”
“King Laufey of the Jotuns, or Frost Giants, as some nations dub them.”
“Odin’s half Frost Giant in the legends. They knew each other?”
“Odin,” his eyes fell on you, “Father is half Frost Giant in the legends?” You nodded and he said, “He never speaks of this if it is true.”
“Well he’s probably jealous.” You said and his brow twitched up, “If it was between me and you to be Jotun I’d stay mum simply because you have to be the peak example of Jotun prowess.”
“Asgardians tell bedtime stories of Jotuns to terrify their children and frighten them to behave or they will be eaten.” He said mournfully and looked out at the sea.
“I’d start biting people then.” You said and in the spread of his smile you said, “Always a monster till you’re necessary. How the universe works. The odd one, the new one, that one who doesn’t belong. Till they need you, till they’re scared. So much easier to be scared of the new than to trust it. Well I trust you,” you said and he caught your eye again, “And you can’t stop me. I’m stark raving mad with power and will cackle in their disbelieving faces for not trusting pure sunshine.” You said with a wide smile making him chuckle again.
“Are you certain there is no alcohol in that drink?” He teased.
“Just tons of sugar.” You said taking another giggle laced sip as he took a sip of his own drink. “I heard you’re over seventeen hundred years old? How does that line up to our age progression? If that isn’t too personal.”
“Roughly similar to your age I would presume. Young adulthood.”
You gasped and said, “And they gave you alcohol, someone get this man a pacifier.” You said teasingly turning your head to call it out making him chuckle and simply use his arm closest to you to prop himself up to scoot closer.
“Shh,” he whispered through a chuckle by your ear and you giggled again. “There is little substance on this planet able to inebriate myself and my brother.” He said with his eyes focused on yours when you turned your head slightly to catch his bright gaze and smile.
The ship took a wide turn and your joking mood waned and his hand covered yours at the returned grip of his knee to lace his fingers under your palm, and next to your ear he asked, “How would you like to play a game?” You caught his gaze and he grinned nodding his head at the crowd stating, “Say a name.” He watched your eyes dance over the women in toga influenced gowns surrounded by men in both togas and white and golden suits and you chose one from the back that with a flash of green in his eyes had the man start to dance absurdly awkward luring out your smile and giggle again.
Innocent fun, insignificant playful pranks that had Prince Thor search for his brother in the crowds until he spotted him at your side with his hand on yours. Loki would never have openly chosen such a public display with anyone he dared to imagine courtship until proper tasks of approval had been sought for and by the clear try to not let you have a break to focus on anything but his magic. And the game upon his knowing Thor was looking his way had the Prince conjuring fables and joking tales in front of the possibly distressed young Shieldmaiden he would never dream of damaging her honor. Something was bothering their young respected friend and his brother while Thor saw to his sea wary Mate was distracting his chosen companion for the evening in a far more acceptable use of his magic at this party.
Some food was sampled from the migrating attendees made from faceless drones that somehow had you more weirded out than the ship. One of which that had Peter hanging on his back while it held a bucket and led him to lie down on the couch beside the pair of you. The move had you inch closer to the Prince and had his gaze drop to the thigh pressed against his to something hard he felt tap the side of his leg. He felt himself unable to help but smirk at the clear hilt of a dagger poking out from underneath the shorts that blended into your skirt from afar in its same brilliant white shade. And in a low purr beside your ear as you handed over your empty glass to a drone to free a hand so you could check Peter’s temperature the Prince asked, “Please tell me that’s a dagger on your thigh.”
With a blush to the green mist that eased the hilt of two coiled snakes in bright silver into view widening his grin as he caught sight of the full design. And he could imagine the blade in his mind by the hint of metal beneath the hilt his mist hid away again as Pepper hurried over with some sea sickness medicine. “Where else would I keep it?” you whispered back widening his grin to the point he nipped at his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.
Pepper in her trot up to Peter’s side offered him a fizzing drink he accepted and took your help to prop himself up to sip on it, “Here you go Peter.” And her eyes rose to you asking, “Are you sea sick too? I haven’t seen you on the main floor since we took off.”
“I’ve got a thing with metal boats in open ocean,” her lips parted, “I’m good sitting. Body just prefers wood boats it seems. Prince Loki’s been distracting me.”
“Well if you need anything let us know.”
“Does he make a lot of these drones?”
Pepper sighed saying, “It’s a new thing. He said he’d make them faceless since I thought fake humanoid ones might bother me, but these aren’t any better, sadly.”
“Because he does know about all the evidence on making AI’s and how devastatingly bad that could go?”
“I remind him daily. Only, seems he forgets, daily. Progress,” she said shaking her head and rising to her feet to go check on another person muttering, “This party is the stuff of nightmares with these waves.”
In a glance at Loki you asked, “If Stark builds AI’s can I plead asylum on Asgard?”
He smirked asking, “AI?”
“Robots with free will. Always turns out that they want to destroy the human race. Borderline Ragnarok for our race.”
“Should there be any danger to this planet we will grant you asylum. I give you my word.”
“How important are potatoes on your planet? Because if they don’t grow there I will be smuggling some there. My ancestors didn’t get to enjoy them in the older generations, but I know they look down on me in envy. Even broke I eat like a King.” Making him chuckle again. “I’m serious, one of the best foods discovered on this planet is the potato.”
“Potatoes are amazing,” Peter sighed after finishing his drink and laying flat again. “I would bring lemons. My aunt gets this big smile when she sees lemons. I don’t get it, but it makes her happy. And I’d have to bring her too of course.”
Loki smiled saying, “We have six variations of potatoes and four lemon breeds. The pair of you and young Peter’s aunt would be amply pleased.”
“Could I have a sheep? My parents promised to get me a sheep when I was bigger. Or is it mainly city spaces without any room for cottages?”
“We have a mixture of both. A quaint cottage could be arranged, or a plot of garden and field to keep your sheep in should you prefer an apartment in the Palace. With ample workers to help train you in treatment and sheering of your sheep when necessary.”
In a giggle you replied, “I would need sheep lessons.” Making him chuckle as well.
At their sides save for a trip to the bathroom you remained until the boat docked again and Loki rose to gently help you up and lead both you and still unsteady Peter to the dock. The assigned car to drive you back however found him reluctantly in release of the hand his had been fixed in for hours now. “Thank you, for the asylum and the sheep,” you said in words that muffled in the ears of the Prince whose cheek you had left a peck upon. “Sleep well, Sunshine.” You said and in a lower to sit inside the car.
“Sleep well and safe on the earth, Shieldmaiden Pear.”
.
Vision. The newest Avenger had his face plastered across the internet and all you could think of was the promise the Asgardian Prince had made you and it just made your stomach turn. He was so polite and out of everybody he could have spent his time with he seemed to gravitate to your company. Even when a long train ride let you take a long stroll in Central Park that had you run into the Super Soldiers and Sam on a run. When the Zoo was mentioned the Princes seemed to appear in mid air and as if to counter Bucky’s time with your attention another animal would be pointed to and his questions would arise all aimed your direction.
End to end between your fingers your Mate button box was flipped to tap against the counter easing the slide of your fingers to the bottom to aid the lift and flip of the box to do it again. No matter why he was focusing on you there had to be a line and you couldn’t stop hiding from your fears of finding out who your Mate was by humoring the attentions of the Avengers. Onto the counter you settled the button box and gave the button a single tap that almost an hour away had Loki’s eyes twitch off his book confirming he was alone in his gifted apartment followed by an irritated grumble and nestle back into his spot to ignore the unhelpful poke of his Mate from this infuriating planet.
Several taps more in a notice of the muffin bag you had gotten from a café earlier that had you murmur, “Let’s meet for coffee at the Blue Bird Café. Nine AM.” Your fingers tapped before you could think it through just how many could understand Morse Code this day and age, you just had to try and see if anyone would turn up.
And just like you knew it deep down, no one did, at nine or ten when you had finished off pretending to write out something in your pocket journal after you’d finished your first cider and just wanted to go anywhere but there.
 *
Glaring as he made his way to the group lunch after a much needed breakfast alone Loki plopped into his seat and turned his gaze to Natasha at her asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Ten minutes my Mate poked me last night, ten minutes. All in some absurd pattern,” Loki repeated the pattern with the tip of his finger on the table and had her, Bucky and Bruce listening to the meanings of the taps.
Bucky however asked the question the others didn’t, “So did you meet your Mate for coffee?”
Loki glared at him, “I beg your pardon?”
Bruce, “That’s Morse Code. Old school. Must have been eager to meet you rarely hear of people using it these days outside of military or science families.”
Loki asked in a slightly panicked tone, “Where would I meet them?”
Bucky said, “Blue Bird Café, nine am.”
Loki didn’t have to look at the clock but said in his rush from the table, “It’s half past noon!”
He didn’t know where that was but he knew who to talk to to get into Stark’s system. Knowing fully he had links to cameras everywhere. “Red Man, I require your assistance.”
“I am Vision, Green Noble.” The Prince led the way to one of the public labs that linked to his system that Loki linked into the simple online page of the only Blue Bird Café in New York that was located in Queens.
“I need you to help me use Stark’s system to see who was in this café this morning.”
“Are we searching for a culprit in a crime you are aware of?” Vision asked in his hover beside the Prince.
“My Mate used Morse Code to send me a message I did not understand last night and I missed the meeting they tried to arrange. I wish to know who I have spurned to offer my apologies and win back their favor.”
“Oh, very admirable then.” He said lowering as he said, “I am under the understanding that a Mate is the strongest bond you might find in your lifetime. I anxiously await my eighteenth year to have earned my own chance to meet mine.” Raising his hand to link to the system that began to shift the screen windows to delve through the system to first link into the café’s security and the street cameras to watch every person from eight am onwards.
“Pluto,” Loki muttered in the sight of you wearing an anxious expression and a slightly less casual dress entering the café, ordering a drink and muffin with glances at the door to every entrance in a clearly sinking mood as Vision continued to run facial recognition through a database while the video played.
Vision said, “From the 47 customers 24 are legally married and another 17 have announced themselves as engaged on their social media accounts.”
“Pluto Pear, that woman. When did she leave exactly?” Visio read back the time stamp and he said, “I need a print out of this list, I’m going to start with her.”
Vision asked to the print of the page behind him, “Does the young lady hold a certain physical appeal for you to begin with her?”
“I know her. I would never wish for her to believe I have left her there alone. As if I had refused to meet her on the grounds of being my Mate.”
Vision said, “Ah. Then yes, begin with the young Miss Pear.” He said offering the printed sheet that Loki accepted and hurried with rushed thanks in his race out to go and the whole while his mind raced with a single repetition, it had to be you.
Truly for months now any excuse to cross paths was taken including a laughable amount of candles and soap with films, trips out between your shifts and group meals he always made certain to be chaperoned for everyone’s comfort and for your honor the Prince searched. You were the one to make him laugh and find some sense of ease on this planet with a person who seemed to genuinely care about his comfort and tried to keep him from growing too homesick or thoughts on his lineage to spoil his wishes to ever return. If you weren’t his Mate he never desired to meet the person who dared to poke him. He didn’t want to be forced onto anyone else, he had subconsciously chosen you for a while now and would continue to do so.
 *
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Three knocks soon bled to five and before the sixth could land you had opened your front door to the wide eyed Prince who rapidly opened his fist to an awkward wave. “Miss Pear. Might I come in?”
“Sure,” you said letting him inside closing the door behind him in his awkward check of the single room apartment with a lingering gaze at the boat shaped bed he pointed to mid amused smirk. “My first year here there was a play they used that as a prop in and put it up cheap for sale after it closed. Really comfy.” You looked him over and asked, “You have to go on another mission? Only seen you twitchy like this when you had to leave town.”
“No,” he replied and moved closer offering the cider in his hand you hadn’t noticed. “I owe you a drink.”
In the narrow of your eyes you accepted the still warm cup saying, “Thank you. Don’t recall how, but thank you.”
“I don’t know Morse Code.”
Your lips parted to ask over the thunder of your heart in your ears, “Did you want me to teach you.”
“Not today, thank you.” He inhaled sharply and said, “I know you went to the Blue Bird Café this morning and I know that you didn’t meet the person you had hoped to.”
“I-,”
In a step closer he cut you off saying, “Because I don’t know Morse Code and it took me repeating the lengthy set of taps that kept me up last night to those amongst the team who do.”
“Oh,” you squeaked out in realization of what you guessed and halfway hoped he might be saying.
“So I came here to ask you to poke me again,” his eyes lowered to the finger that rose to tap him in the center of his chest that had him let out a breathy chuckle and scan his eyes over your face that was still devoid of anything readable but uncertainty and shock. “No, with your button, do you have it?”
“Oh, button,” sharply your head turned setting the drink down and gingerly he shadowed you in your circle of your bed to the near burrow under the fake fur blanket you had to do to grab the button that seemed to try and keep it hidden for itself. When you stood again you eased your fingers around the sides of the box with its mint colored button now a deep green that with a press of your thumb had him exhale shakily to the poke he felt.
He didn’t know what to do or say and yet all on its own it seemed his body acted to first cradle your cheek then lean in to press his lips to yours in a blind hope that however possible he could seal this bond to never break. Just as loudly as yours his heart thundered in his chest for the action his body had taken without permission.
And when your eyes met again his breath hitched hearing you whisper at the sight of the swirls of green mist that had filled the room with sparkling veins of gold to glimmer around the both of you. His skin now blue with raised ridges trailing across his skin in snowflake like unique markings to just him from his Jotun blood paired with his crimson eyes. “Was that supposed to happen or was it on accident.”
“The mist was unintentional.” He hummed back lowly and in his lean forward to brush his nose to yours his body melted forward at the toe top lift to kiss him again. With the close of your eyes covering his shift back after his notice of the color of his hand still on your cheek. An action and pose he lingered in to savor every second of it.
“Blue is a good color on you, Sunshine.” You said and his lips parted only for the growl of his stomach to make you grin and claim his hand and say, “Let’s feed you and that angry rhino you swallowed.”
Out of your slow cooker some jambalaya was served for the both of you to go with the cheesy mashed potatoes you topped with bacon bits he amusedly poked with his spoon as if it was possibly toxic. “I’m not going to poison you,” you giggled out.
“No, there is a topping like these pebbles on Asgard and it is merely awful.”
“Well this is tiny bits of bacon.”
“Bacon,” he said in an intrigued tone and took a bite he hummed around making you giggle to yourself.
“Midgard isn’t so bad, we’ve done amazing things with bacon.”
“That you have,” he said filling his spoon again with some of the jambalaya that while he chewed it his eyes scanned over your face in your downwards gaze, “Are you pleased?” he managed to ask when he swallowed lifting your eyes again to his.
“Could use more sausage. They’re so stingy on the weight per cent these days.”
“With me?” He asked in a near squeak afraid of the answer.
“As my Mate?” you asked and he nodded, “You are indescribable. You can do magic, I mean come on, I started magic when I was a kid and dreamed to have someone who would be so much more spectacularly talented than myself. Need I say, the essence of pure sunshine in your veins. You accept my Norse roots. Some people would just label me a witch on that alone. And you tolerate my weirdness, major plusses there.”
“I would assume, my title-,”
“Psh,” you said lifting his gaze from his bowls. “I would be honored to be bound to you if you ran a button stand.” You said triggering an awkward grin across his face at the compliment. “If anything the expectations of your possible requirement to take up after Odin on what I would only assume to be a possibly uncomfortable looking golden throne in that floating golden Palace would trouble me for the increase of scowls that would develop from the stress and drive that smile of yours away. Not to mention the heightened risk of stress on the heart from a job of that level.” After a moment of his amused grin your way you asked, “Do you really live forever?”
“Roughly 5071 years.”
“Well Bucky’s close to a century and he hasn’t seemed to age much, Steve was frozen for most of his. So I suppose logically, I can’t say how long I would be around.”
His brow inched up and he said, “I would find you. No matter where in Hel they settle you to spend your afterlife.”
You nodded and asked in a rather embarrassed tone, “No possible way I could get to Valhalla then?”
“You most certainly could well earn place there. Few Midgardians are welcomed, I did not mean to worry you or offer insult.”
You shook your head, “It’s just all different than how I was taught. You’re Frigga’s son, and Thor isn’t a redhead, no telling what else could be different. I mean did you at least give birth to a eight legged horse Odin rides around on?”
“Did I what?” he chuckled out with a widening smile.
“I mean who wouldn’t be able to learn to love a guy who gave birth to Hel, the Goddess of Death; Jörmungand, the serpent that surrounds the world; and Fenrir or Fenrisúlfr, the wolf; and Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse.”
“Thor did advise us the mortals had warped our tales, yet I had no imagination it could be that vastly different.” He paused and asked, “Hel, is she prominent in my life in the tales? I have never heard of a Goddess of that name.”
You said, “Those you had with the female giant Angerboda. You seem to love her in the tales. Though most of your tales I prefer include your other wife, Sigyn. You had a son with her, named Nari or Narfi.” His lips parted, “Odin uses your son’s intestines to chain you to a rock where snakes drip their venom on you and she sits beside you with a bowl to collect it. Though when she dumps it out and the venom drips on your face you thrash around causing the earth to quake. It’s quite the tale of devotion in Norse Mythology. There’s actually quite a tale for how you got married, she was betrothed to another and on the wedding day you kill him and take his shape and then reveal yourself after and she tells Odin she will honor the marriage. Sigyn’s basically known only for her devotion to you.”
“I have never wed, nor know of a Sigyn. I could never imagine my father able to bind anyone with the innards of their own child.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He shook his head, “No, you have not upset me. Although I am curious to ponder on when the tales stretched so far from the truth. Perhaps an exceptionally harsh winter with little to distract from boredom.”
“Well that’s the thing about legends. Everyone who first heard or saw them happen is dead. Kind of like the phone tree game,” his brows furrowed a moment in confusion to the name, “One person in a circle whispers to another, it can be a word or funnier a phrase and gradually through the circle the words change. Sometimes for the worse. Known a few to end in fist fights when they made us do it in schools in some mock trial to stomp out bullying as a sort of way to display how gossip explodes like wild fire. Then again it could be a testament to hearing loss rather than weak attention spans on trading whispers.” As you eyed his grin after a glance away to fill your spoon you said, “Sorry, got away from me there.”
“You did not wander far. Often I find people who ramble show great promise of intellect. Brains that are rapid to focus on new topics are very welcome amongst our scientists.”
“It must be amazing, your home.”
“My people are brilliant compared to yours, however very gullible. Hence my prowess in mischief.”
“Well, if you assume to have all the answers why would you bother looking for more?” making him smirk proudly at your words. “They’ll learn, with enough shoves in the right direction, or enough books to hurl at them. Sometimes you need a bit of mischief to open some eyes.”
“Thor has been working up the nerve to request a trip for his Mate Jane Foster to Asgard. I imagine her introduction to our scientists would be less productive than to hear from one who has crafted a rainbow portal on her own with only supplies from Midgard. Even our best crafters alive today could not tap into that technology. When Thor broke the rainbow bridge that aids in the control of the Bifrost Mother had to travel to Hel to consult with one of our scientists we had lost a thousand years prior.”
“That must have been fun for you to experience.”
“I wasn’t there,” he whispered in a downward glance then cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath, “Perhaps I should share something else, other than my race with you.” When his eyes did rise he almost flinched seeing yours on his, “There’s a, being, a Titan.”
“Like in Greek Mythology?”
“I’m, not aware of their history.”
“Sorry, Titan?”
“Thanos. I fell from the bridge when Thor broke it. Through the open void of the universe I faded to, I don’t know where. There, Thanos found me. His henchman tortured me.”
“Loki,” you said reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm that had his hand turn over to wrap around the underside of yours welcoming the contact and sadness not pity in your gaze.
“I was gone, for so very long, time is, difficult in varied realms to compare.” He wet his lips and continued shakily, “I managed to escape, with a deal. He sent me with the scepter to bring him the tesseract. There are these stones, with different powers to control parts of the universe, he wants them all and has others to locate them for him. That was why, I opened that portal. Why I killed people. To let them know something bigger is out there, and that it’s coming.”
“Okay.”
“He wouldn’t have come on his own, but I lied to him. And my Father can’t protect this planet, or won’t. I won’t let him hurt you though. I swear. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
“That’s a tall order in this city. Plus even doors are a danger to me when I’m in a hurry.”
“I’m being serious, he has decimated civilizations before and enslaved millions he allowed to survive.” His eyes scanned yours finding an expression he couldn’t decipher and he asked, “What is that look for?”
“I have secrets, terrible things I should tell my Mate, for fair playing field since you’ve been so open with me. I do trust you, I just,”
“I understand.”
“It’s just been mine, for so long. Nearly my whole life now, and Eddie, he found me at and back again from my lowest point,” Loki nodded and bit the inside of his lip at the tear that rolled down your cheek all of a sudden. “He was the first person who cared since I got here, and I just had to tell someone. It was breaking me, and he got me help with his therapist, which has helped. I just, I don’t know why, but even with you being able to rain aliens down upon us, I’m scared to tell you everything.” Another tear down your cheek had him lean in closer to your side. “Because if you knew, what I am, you would hate me. I don’t know why Eddie hasn’t left yet. He should have left me by now.”
“He is not going to leave, and no matter what pain that lies in your past, I will not leave you. And I will wait until you welcome me into the fold. No matter how long it takes.”
The rest of the meal he remained at your side and moved with you to your couch to inch closer to cuddling through a film that allowed you both to a comfortable silence. Droops of your eyes however had him excise himself to allow you to rest. When you were on your feet however with sight of his back his body went rigid to the poke he felt that had him turn to see you with your button in hand say, “Double checking.”
Gently he claimed your free hand and raised it to his lips to kiss your knuckles on the hand he cradled after, “Get some rest. Tomorrow should Stark not interfere, hopefully I could arrange a lunch to make up for my misstep this morning.”
“Not your misstep. I shouldn’t have assumed anyone else would know Morse Code.”
“I will learn, there is no fault on your part. Only imagination.”
“You get some sleep too, Sunshine.” His grin widened, “Keep that stress on your heart down.”
“I shall try my hardest with Stark in the same tower.” He said stealing another press of his lips to your hand before he released it and led the way to the door you closed and locked behind your unbelievable Mate you secretly wished would have tried to kiss more than just your hand the second time.
Pt 8
All –
@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess​, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,
Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​
X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac
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slimesidian · 8 months ago
Text
Leaving
First Runaway AU drabble! This is when Tommy and Wilbur leave. This au is really close to both of our hearts, so I hope you all like it!
This is also half a what-if story, where I was exploring Wilbur's character if he was a little more responsible, and conditions in pogtopia worked a little differently.
- Mod Obsidian
cws: implied starvation, implied abandonment, mentions of dying, the boys are living alone and they are struggling, bad living conditions
¤¤¤ 
The weather was starting to turn cold enough that your breath was visible when Wilbur finally decided they needed to leave.
They wouldn't be able to survive winter out here. Not with how cold it gets. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he paced. How was he supposed to bring this up to Tommy?
How was he supposed to do this himself? He didn't want to leave Tubbo, or Fundy, or Niki- but they had to go. They would die out here. He didn't really have much choice. 
Plus, it wasn't like this place wanted them.
The first thing Wilbur did when he'd managed to set his resolve was get everything they would need together. He gathered all the food they had, all the medical supplies he'd managed to put together, and as many warm clothes as he could find. (They only had warm clothes because Niki visited. He wished she'd visited more. Living alone out here was stressful.)
The second thing he did was find the sturdiest wood he could to make the boat they'd need to travel in. It needed to last for however long they were in the water. There was no telling how long they'd be out there. (He made a few extras just in case. There was no telling what could happen out there.)
After he did all that, all that was left was… figuring out how to tell Tommy. He didn't know how his little brother would react to hearing that he was completely uprooting him. (Especially since they would have to leave Tubbo. He wished they didn't have to leave Tubbo. He wished they didn't have to leave anyone.) But there wasn't much choice, so he would just have to explain it and hope Tommy understood.
"Hey, Tommy?" Wilbur called out, sitting down on one of the many makeshift seats he'd carved out of this cavern. "Could you come here? I need to talk to you about something important."
"Alright! I'm comin'!" Tommy yelled out, skidding around the corner and almost tripping. Wilbur snorted, and Tommy glared at him. "Don't laugh! I wanted to get here as fast as possible!"
"Alright, alright." Tommy sat down beside him, and Wilbur sighed. "So- I've been trying to keep this from being obvious, but- we really aren't doing well here, supplies wise."
"Huh?" Tommy looked at Wilbur, confused. His ears twitched.
Wilbur fidgeted with his sleeves. "Well- we have been living out of a cave, and- and I'm still not getting a good food source. We have almost nothing stocked up for when winter hits. We- we probably wouldn't survive out here. So- uh, so I figured we should leave."
"Leave?" Tommy shot up, his tail spinning behind him. "Like- like completely? Like go somewhere else? Far- far away?"
Wilbur swallowed, looking away. "Yes, Tommy. I- I don't want to, but we-"
"I- I- we can't leave! Tubbo is still in Manburg! Can't- can't we get him? I- he's my best friend! I- I don't- I don't wanna leave him!" Tommy pulled at the end of his shirt, bouncing in place in front of Wilbur. His tail was a blur.
"I- I don't wanna leave him either, Tommy! I don- I don't want to leave anyone."
"Then we can get everyone! Or- or at least Tubbo! Ple- please.." Tommy was starting to cry. Wilbur pulled him into a hug, and he buried his face into Wilbur's chest. He was shaking slightly. 
"We- we can't wait any longer. We have to leave before winter hits. I'm- I'm sorry, Tommy. I want to get Tubbo, and Fundy, and everyone else so badly." Wilbur took a shuddering breath, resting his head on top of his brother's. "But- but we can't wait any longer. We have to leave if we want to survive."
They sat there for a while, Wilbur hugging Tommy close while he calmed down and processed everything. Wilbur carded a hand through his brother's hair, staying silent while he waited.
"O-" Tommy paused, and Wilbur looked down at him. "Okay, Wil. I- I trust you. I un- understand that we need to leave. Can- could I at least le-leave something? For Tubbo?"
Wilbur softened, hugging Tommy again quickly before letting him go. "Of course you can. Find a good place to hide it, alright?"
"Obviously I know that! I know the perfect place!" Tommy ran off to leave whatever he wanted to for Tubbo, and Wilbur laughed slightly. At least this wasn't breaking his spirit. 
•••
Once Tommy had left his note, they started moving all the supplies Wilbur had gotten together. They switched out their L'Manburg jackets for warmer coats, and put on the winter boots Niki had given them. There was no telling how cold it would get.
Wilbur loaded their supplies into the storage bit of the boat, then pushed it half into the water. He made sure Tommy was in fine before he got in himself. He looked back at the Dream SMP for one last time.
"Goodbye Dream SMP. Goodbye L'Manburg." He thought about how much they'd both been targeted, even since Tommy got there. The discs, the L'manburg war, the election. He snarled. "And good fucking riddance."
He pushed the boat the rest of the way into the water, and Wilbur and Tommy left a place that could never quite be home.
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hawksward · 4 months ago
Text
Wolves in Sheep's Clothing Ch. 1: Push/Pull (Childe/OC)
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Since being granted a vision at the tender age of 10, Irina has owed her life to the Tsaritsa and dedicated herself to rising through the ranks of the Fatui. In becoming a top-ranking diplomat she's received her easiest assignment yet: ensure the 11th Fatui Harbinger remains ignorant of La Signora's plan to obtain the gnosis of Rex Lapis. A simple task for someone who's made a career out of lying.
Unfortunately, even the simplest tasks can go awry when feelings get in the way.
Rating: E (For eventual smut)
Warnings: None that I can think of for this chapter, there will eventually be smut
Banner credit goes to @shinsotired because I'm incapable of art.
Prologue:
Cold. She couldn’t remember the last time she wasn’t cold. At first, the nerves in her fingertips were screaming, the skin exposed through the holes in her worn gloves. But now it was different.
The cold had faded into warmth as she laid on the ground in the alley. At first, it was uncomfortably hot. So hot she wanted to strip off her already thin winter coat and hat. But now it was pleasantly warm. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way.
But it wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.
The snow seemed to fall in waves, flakes occasionally falling into her eyes. The girl flexed her fingers before closing her eyes, they were becoming harder and harder to move.
I’m dying
The thought echoed in her head. She couldn’t decide if she was scared or relieved. If she died there would be no more suffering. Tears slipped out of her eyes, freezing on her cheeks.
I can’t. Not here. Not like this.
She curled herself into a ball. Clenching her fists as tight as she could to stay awake. She desperately tried to conserve what little body heat she had left.
The voices were faint at first, two men engaging in idle chatter as they strolled through the alley. One man’s footsteps stopped short when he saw her, much to the dismay of his partner.
“Leave it Misha. Street kids die every day here.” His foot pushed her from her side onto her back. She could barely open her eyes, any energy she had for defiance long gone. She immediately knew the man by his mask. Fatui.
“She’s holding something.” Misha reached down to pry open her clenched fist.
Her palm was soaked in blood around an object she knew she wasn’t holding before. Although she couldn’t quite make out what it was from her angle, she noticed the man’s eyes go wide.
“How many street kids do you know who have been blessed by the Tsaritsa?”  He plucked the object from her hand and held it to the lamplight. A cryo vision.
“What’s your name, child?”
Her voice came as a whisper
“Irina”
Ch. 1:
The wind in Liyue Harbor was far milder than the chill winds in Snezhnaya. The boat journey was amicable, albeit long, and she would be in Liyue for the foreseeable future. Even from the docks, she could tell. The whole city was in chaos.
Only a day passed since the Rite of Descension, a disaster of epic proportions, and it was clear there were still no answers.
Irina leaned over the side of the boat, watching the fish scatter as the anchor plummeted into the sand below. Men hurried into the boat the moment the gangplank fell, eager to unload the crates of liquor shipped from the motherland.
Pushing herself off the rail, Irina made her way down the gangplank. She knew next to nothing about her assignment. Only that Rex Lapis was dead and there was now a sea of red tape between the Tsaritsa and the gnosis.
“I trust you’re our new diplomat?”
Her attention was brought to the man before her. He had half a head of height on her with bright auburn hair and even brighter blue eyes. It was clear from what he was wearing that he was Fatui.
“Yes. I’ve been sent by Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, to aid in the issue with the exuvia.” She held out her hand for a handshake only for the man to hold her hand to his lips, placing a small kiss before releasing.
“I’m Childe. We’ll be working closely together while you’re here in Liyue. Not like I needed the assistance, I have the situation under control.”
She wasn’t surprised that he was less than excited for her arrival, she didn’t climb through the ranks to take easy assignments.
“Aster.” It was an alias of course, she couldn’t remember the last time she used her real name. “You must be Tartaglia then. Don’t mind me. I’m here to help grease the bureaucratic gears. I won’t be interfering with your bank loan operation.”
Irina knew that the Northland Bank was a large source of revenue for the Tsaritsa in Liyue. She also knew that their interest rates and collection practices were less than ethical. Not like it was any of her concern.
The smile on Childe’s face faltered for only a second, but it was enough to betray his false hospitality. He was a harbinger, most Fatui agents and diplomats alike wouldn’t dare talk to him in that manner. But most diplomats weren’t hand chosen by the Tsaritsa herself.
“Well Aster, I’m sure you’re tired from the journey but why don’t I show you around and get you acquainted with the members of the Northland Bank, where you’ll be stationed. As your superior officer allow me to give you the grand tour”
His words weren’t lost on her. Although she wouldn’t be reporting to him on her assignment she needed to appear like she was. She couldn’t have him asking questions.
“Of course, Lord Tartaglia ” the words rolled off her tongue like venom “Please lead the way.”
——
It was clear from the endless amount of stairs he had her climb to the Yujing Terrace that he was looking to torture her. Nothing about the tour was optimal and only served to exhaust her further.
“Don't tell me you’re getting tired already!” Childe was beaming from ear to ear
She wanted to stab him. They had gone back and forth to a new landmark, each somehow across the city from the other, for the better part of 3 hours. And while she was in shape, she didn’t have an elite soldier’s stamina. Nor did Childe have to make the trek in heels.
“Of course not, I’m ready to experience all the city has to offer” She put on her most charming smile. She wouldn’t let him best her, especially not so early in the game.
Childe laughed before waving her over to the nearby railing. The view from the terrace was beautiful. From the top of the city was a view of the harbor. The streets below just beginning to light the lanterns for the night.
“I see you know how to make an impression” Irina smiled to herself as she drank in the view.
“What can I say? I have many talents.” He leaned against the rail, his eyes trained on her. “One of them is sensing bullshit. So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.”
Irina raised an eyebrow, turning her attention to the man before her. “I’m here because the Tsaritsa is unimpressed at how long it’s taking you to complete your mission. Signora obtained her gnosis within a week of arriving in Mondstat.”
“Signora didn't have to contend with a dead Barbatos.” He countered
“If you think you can do this on your own then by all means be my guest.” Irina pushed herself off the rail, “But as of today all matters dealing with the Liyue Qixing will be handled by me. If you take issue with that you’re free to look through the paperwork I brought with me.”
Childe had no retort, but it was clear that she struck a nerve by comparing him to Signora. It didn’t matter. She would complete her mission as soon as possible and then leave Liyue for her next assignment. which would hopefully not involve the 11th harbinger.
“Well then. Allow me to escort the lady to the Northland Bank. Ekaterina has prepared the small office for your arrival.”
——
Childe didn’t lie when he said the office was small. Her office was a glorified storage closet on the upper level of the bank, barely large enough to fit a reasonably sized oak desk already stacked with paperwork. She knew when she wasn’t meeting with the Qixing she would be expected to help out with administrative work for the bank.
She didn’t expect for her superior  to drop all of his work on her as well.
Before he left for the night he tossed a map her way, a large red x marking where her accommodations would be. She was mildly surprised he hadn’t offered to walk her to the inn to keep tabs on her. Then again the Fatui presence in the city was nothing to scoff at, someone would see her eventually and most likely report back.
Thankfully the inn wasn’t difficult to find, centered in the middle of the merchant district. Accommodations weren’t large by any means, but the warm wood and red bedding were lush and inviting.
What little luggage she brought on the boat was tucked away in the corner, next to a small bathroom. She never carried much, even a small suitcase seeming excessive after growing up with nothing.
Irina glanced at the clock sitting on the dresser. Currently 11 pm. She needed to be at Liuli pavilion in 3 hours. She changed out of her clothes for something that didn’t scream ‘Fatui agent skulking around at all hours of the night’.
—-
Liuli Pavillion definitely looked closed. Irina passed maybe two people on her way from the inn to the restaurant, both of whom were definitely too drunk to remember anyone who passed them by.
Irina checked her surroundings before knocking on the door twice, followed by a brief pause, followed by four more times. She could hear footsteps coming from inside before unlocking the door.
“Can I help you? We’re closed” a middle-aged man looked her up and down, a scowl on his face
“I’m here with the jueyun chili order.”
“Already got it last week.” He barked
“Yes, but this order is a special delivery from Qingce Village.”
The man gave a curt nod before stepping out of the way. The windows in the restaurant were tightly drawn shut, locking in the dim candlelight. Irina made her way to the voices coming from the adjacent room.
The room held a small square table, one seat was filled by a dark haired man in an expensive looking suit. The other was filled with none other than the 8th harbinger herself.
Signora.
“You’re late.” She didn’t bother to look up as she took a sip from her glass of wine “Sit down, we don’t have much time.”
Irina sat down as the man from the door placed a glass of wine in front of her. She took a small sip, locking eyes with the dark haired man across the table. Was Signora going to make an introduction or not?
“This is my subordinate, Aster. She’ll be your point of contact for all things related to the contract” Signora began “Aster, this is Zhongli, you may know him better as Rex Lapis”
Irina nearly choked on her drink. She knew the anemo archon, Barbatos, had taken on a human form before having his gnosis taken. But she never imagined she’d see another archon in the flesh. The Tsaritsa living among her people wasn’t exactly common.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” She wasn't sure how to respond. Clearly he didn’t want many to know if he was going by a different name. But was it alright to treat him like a normal person?
“None of that. In this form, I am simply Zhongli, consultant for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.” He gave a small, polite smile before sipping from his wine “Not to mention going forward we’ll be colleagues.”
“Listen closely because I’m only going to explain this once.” Signora reclined back in her seat, her fierce gaze not once leaving Irina, “The Tsaritsa has signed a contract with Rex Lapis for procurement of the gnosis. Since I can’t be in the city without drawing attention, you will be my proxy. You will tell absolutely no one of the contract nor about Zhongli’s identity. Do you understand?”
“Of course Lady Signora. I will maintain the utmost discretion.”
“Good. Since you’ll be doing it anyway, I want a report on anything you can discern from the Qixing as well.” The tall blonde woman stood from her chair, turning her back momentarily before returning her focus to Irina. “One last thing. If Tartaglia so much as develops an idea of what’s happening here consider yourself out of a job.”
Irina rose from her chair to give her a nod and a salute before the other woman left the restaurant. She had no intention of failing a mission, but it was clear that Signora would rip her entire life out from under her faster than she could blink if she did.
“Please, enjoy the glass of wine with me before you leave.” Zhongli motioned for her to return to her seat “We should get to know each other since we’ll be working closely together. Not to mention it is a vintage.”
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clairedreems · 5 months ago
Text
for i'm in love
“[...] mermaids have no tears, and therefore, they suffer more.” ―hans christian andersen, the little mermaid
the two of them were like two planets: orbiting close to each other, but never really colliding.
a fwt modern au fic, with little mermaid references
-
“if i’m simply unwanted, shunned by this world, won’t it be better for me to be sea foam? because, right now, i have nothing to hold. because, right now, there’s no place i call home.”
act one: the sea
“hey... are you sure about this?” george’s voice is full of concern, even as he carefully places down the box he was holding on the nearby table.
dream and sapnap follow closely behind him, carrying yet another batch of boxes in their arms. although he did not voice it, dream understands why george is worried. the neighbourhood they’re helping fundy move into is less than stellar. dream didn’t really wanna judge people, but the way the people on the streets outside eyed them with trepidation when they first arrived was enough to let him know: this wasn’t a good part of town.
fundy, who’s fiddling with keys trying to open what dream thinks is the bedroom, waves the question off. “i’ll be fine.” he says resolutely. “i can always just ask niki for help.”
“niki’s apartment is more than a few blocks away,” george replies as eret enters the small place.
fundy turns to look at them.
eret eyes the place up and down, and wrinkles their nose. “fundy, are you sure you don’t want to stay with us instead? my nephews are already attached to you.”
“yeah, man,” sapnap nods, “or you can stay with us.” he gestures to dream.
“or me,” george offers.
there is a pause, as fundy looks at him, at dream , and for a second there’s something there - but then fundy turns back to fiddling with the keys again. “you know exactly why i’m here guys. if i just live with you, it’ll be proving my father right. i have to try to do a lot of this by myself. show him that i can handle it. that i can live in the real world without him.”
eret shakes their head, and sapnap sighs. “i get’cha man. i get’cha.”
they help him unpack, laugh at the bits and bobs that ranboo and tubbo - eret’s nephews - have managed to sneakily put in with fundy’s stuff (“what would i need dirt for?!”), carefully place and organize things. it’s fun, if exhausting.
“tell them thank you,” fundy tells dream and george - the other two have gotten in ahead of the car - and there it was again, something in his eyes. fundy looks like he wants to say something, but he hesitates. and then brief flashes of memories. the ocean, the sea. the smell of saltwater. the wind. cry of seagulls, a storm - “and thanks to you too,” fundy says. “thank you.”
“yeah. you’re welcome,” george replies. “dream and i will tell them. take care.”
it’s gone.
fundy nods.
when they leave and the car finally moves, dream watches fundy on the rearview mirror, and he shakes away the feeling that he’s doing something wrong again.
-
“there are so many things a prince has in his lands so many thing he would be able to grasp in his hands and yet on and on he searches for the voice he once heard the one who’s whose voice he’s hung onto every word”
act two: the land
dream has, more or less, a pretty solid place in the school. he’s well-liked (at least, by most of the student body), he gets good enough grades, he’s part of the track and field varsity, occasionally invited by the football team to play with them.
he’s popular.
sometimes dream thinks it’s tiring.
and that’s why he sees fundy, a child of the teacher who has it out for him.
dream cuts classes so his best friends wouldn’t be able to drag him to practice, and sneaks in an empty, quiet room simply just to lounge around. he doesn’t really wanna go to the dorm immediately because sapnap is his roommate. his friends would find him faster that way.
he’s done this so many times before - sneaking out, while his group of friends hot on his heels trying to find him. he’s done it enough times that they’ve started to call it a manhunt.
today, he decides to change his route, going to the restricted room on the left wing of the school.
it’s a storage area, he realizes when he enters, so many things covered in white sheets. for a storage area, it’s surprisingly clean. he smiles, and decides that’s where he hides for today, and falls asleep.
he wakes up when he hears the door open. he tries hard to make himself smaller, unnoticeable at his position in the corner of the room. thankfully, the person who entered headed on to the other side of the room, making him completely out of view.
but hey, isn’t that that teacher’s child? curious, dream shifted a bit to try and see what the other boy’s doing.
he’s surprised when he sees him pull one of the sheets covering something - a piano?  - and after folding the cover neatly, the boy sits down on the chair.
“hello mum,” he hears him say.
dream watches as the boy takes paper - a music sheet - and a pencil from his bag, writing something, and then placing it nearby. he then opens the keylid, runs his hand on the keys first, takes a deep breath, exhales, and then begins playing. every so often, the boy would stop, to pick up the pencil, making changes here and there on the song.
dream is entranced. it is so beautifully played. he closes his eyes to listen. it’s a soft, lovely melody, even if it’s an unfinished one.
it all comes to an end, however, when someone else enters the room.
the piano-playing boy gasps, standing up from the chair so fast that it falls over.
the teacher - the boy’s dad - frowns. “fundy.”
“i-”
“no. no word from you. i already told you you’re not allowed in here.”
fundy doesn’t reply, just gets his bag and hurriedly flees from the room, with his dad hot on his heels, leaving dream alone in the room once again.
what the heck was that?
he looks at the overturned chair, and the paper and pencil fundy has left behind.
-
“a witch she was, a witch she is it’s what the whole world sings. despite that she still gives her spell, one that may not even end well.”
act 3: the marriage
once upon a time, there was a girl named sally salmon.
everyone remembers her story. she was popular, well-liked, talented. her family was respectable people. she was the pride of their little town, reaching nationals in competitive freestyle swimming, making headlines in the news.
once upon a time, there was a girl named sally, and she had parents, until she didn’t.
it was a freak accident, they say. a horrific car crash that left sally with a limp she would have to live forever, and took her voice, and her parents away from her.
everyone thought she was done for. and it was, in a way. no more swimming, or even simply speaking for her. left alone in the world.
but a few weeks after she was released from the hospital, sally quit school and began working at a restaurant. the restaurant owner then had practically adopted her and though not everything was perfect, it was okay.
it was in the restaurant that sally learned piano, it was in the restaurant that her future husband would first see her.
dream remembers seeing her, once, as a child. remembers her onstage, hair like fiery halo that frames her face, pressing on the piano keys with abandon as she smiles at her then-husband, carrying their child. father and child singing a duet on the mic while the mother plays. a happy family.
dream remembers feeling envious of it.
it’s what he thinks of when he sees fundy on the sidewalk, across the rubbles of what used to be the restaurant his mother used to work in. the town hall had decided to bulldoze that whole street to build a new mall.
“hey,” the ginger says hoarsely, but smiles and waves at him anyway. he’s wearing a suit. he looks so small, so tired, so defeated. the suit is filled with small debris, powdered dust.
“they were looking for you,” dream tells him.
fundy didn’t attend the wedding earlier, even though he looks like he’s been dressed for it. he was supposed to play the piano in the event.
fundy laughs drily in reply. “i wanted to see the restaurant one last time.”
he notices wounds on fundy’s knuckles, the bruise starting to form on his eye, the cut lip, but dream doesn’t ask. fundy, for dream's whole life, had always been someone that someone else knows. the friend of a friend. the child of his teacher. the child of sally salmon.
instead, he sits next to the man, as fundy begins to hum a song. it’s the same song he heard him play in the school storage room that fateful day.
“fundy…” he says softly, after a while.
“i wish i could blame someone for everything,” fundy says, “but mum’s death has been a long time coming, and i can’t fault dad for remarrying when he’s finally happy again. but what about me?”
dream hesitates, but still tries to reply. whatever he was about to say, however, died down in his throat. there’s a car that slows down, and eventually stops in front of them.
the driver is today’s bride - fundy’s stepmom. she steps out of the driver’s seat and looks at what was once a restaurant, and then at fundy.
fundy stands up, and dream watches.
fundy’s new stepmom is nothing like sally. her hair is short, dyed an unnatural blue, and she’s decked herself with rather constrictive clothes, all bunched up in her coats. she’s every bit the opposite of the simple, casual sally. but when fundy was near enough and she envelops the young man in a hug, dream thinks, maybe they aren’t so different after all.
-
“does it matter at the end of the day? to ask who’s the little mermaid in this tale? to ask the people who will pay?
a spell, a miracle, a simple kiss a voice for legs, a life for bliss
you know, don’t you? the only way, to tell him you love him is for you to say. but all you do is keep your feelings at bay.”
act 4: the song
when dream was seven, he remembers going out onto the sea with his parents. he remembers the ocean, the wind picking up, the dark sky, the swirl of clouds and the streaks of lightning. he remembers the huge waves rocking the small boat. he remembers falling into the water.
he doesn’t remember much after that, but when he wakes up, he’s in a bed, and there’s a red headed child about his age, looking at him.
“mum, will he be okay?” he hears the child’s worried voice.
he doesn’t hear what is replied, because he can feel himself losing consciousness again.
at eight, he sees the child again. at a restaurant diner, with the well-known sally and a man he assumes is the child’s father.
at nine, he watches as the child gets pushed and then punched in the face. he watches and then looks away.
at ten, he learns of the child fighting back.
at eleven, he doesn’t ever see the child anymore. he begins to forget.
at fifteen he sees the child - no longer a child - again; at sixteen, he’s introduced as someone’s friend: fundy. his name is fundy.
at eighteen he’s watching fundy on the rearview mirror. he’s thinking of an unfinished music sheet at his own desk, and a pencil he never really got the chance to give back.
at twenty two he’s in a restaurant diner, going up the stage to sing a song.
“this is a song composed by the late sally salmon, with her son fundy; while the lyrics were by me.”
the crowd hushes up, and he tries looking for a familiar red hair but cannot find him. so instead, he goes on the song.
he sings about a mermaid wanting to see the world, he sings about a prince who has that world. there’s a witch, a spell, and a payment for it. a mermaid turned human, without a voice.
“the truth is i have lied, i have no need for a miracle or a magic kiss,” he opens his eyes, and finally sees fundy. “i just needed to raise my head, and ask if i can stay right by your side.”
and fundy -
fundy's looking back at him too.
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official-simp · 6 months ago
Pretend this is a hate ask I just want to see you post the entire ever movie script
oh god y’all i- dont mind the hyperlinks lmao
Narrator:
According to all  known laws of aviation, there is no way that 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.
  cut to Barry's room,  where he's picking out what to wear
 Barry
Yellow, black.  Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Yeah,  let's shake it up a little.
 Mom (Janet Benson)
(calling from  downstairs:) Barry!  Breakfast is ready!
 Barry:
Coming! (phone rings) Oh, hang on a second. (adjusts his antennas into a headset) Hello?
 Adam Flayman
(on the phone) Barry?
 Barry:
Adam?
 Adam:
Can you believe this  is happening?
 Barry:
I can't believe it.  I'll pick you up. (hangs up, sharpens his  stinger) Lookin' sharp. (flies downstairs)
 Mom:
Barry, why don't you  use the stairs? Your father paid good money for those.
 Barry:
Sorry. I'm excited.
 Dad (Martin  Benson):
Here's the graduate.  We're very proud of you, son. And a perfect report card, all B's.
 Mom:
Very proud. (touches Barry's hair)
 Barry:
Ma! I got a thing  going here.
 Mom:
Ah, you got some  lint on your fuzz.
 Barry:
Ow! That's me!
 Dad:
Wave to us! We'll be  in row 118,000.
 Barry:
Bye! (flies off)
 Mom:
Barry, I told you,  stop flying in the house!
  (Barry drives his  car to pick up his classmate. Adam's outside his house, reading the Hive  Today newspaper. The front page headline reads "FRISBEE HITS HIVE !  Internet Down. Bee: 'I heard sound, then Wham-o!'")
 Barry:
Hey, Adam.
 Adam:
Hey, Barry. Is that  fuzz gel?
 Barry:
A little. It's a  special day, finally graduating.
 Adam:
Never thought I'd  make it.
 Barry:
Yeah, three days  grade school, three days high school.
 Adam:
Those were so  awkward.
 Barry:
Three days college.  I'm glad I took off one day in the middle and just hitchhiked around the  hive.
 Adam:
You did come back  different.
  (a bee calls out as  they drive past)
 Bee:
Hi, Barry.
 Barry:
Hey Artie, growing a  mustache? Looks good.
 Adam:
Hey, did you hear  about Frankie?
 Barry:
Yeah.
 Adam:
You goin' to his  funeral?
 Barry:
No, I'm not goin' to  his funeral. Everybody knows you sting someone, you die. You don't waste it  on a squirrel. He was such a hothead.
 Adam:
Yeah, I guess he  could have just gotten out of the way.
  (They make various  noises as the car goes up and down some hills and does a loop on the road.)
 A & B
Woah! Oooooooh!
 Adam:
I love this  incorporating an amusement park right into our regular day.
 Barry:
I guess that's why  they say we don't need a vacation.
  (They arrive, fly in  and take their seats.)
 Barry:
Boy, quite a bit  of pomp... under the circumstances.
 Barry:
Well, Adam, today we  are men.
 Adam:
We are!
 Barry:
Bee-men.
 Adam:
Amen!
 Hallelujah! (bumping  each other) Aaaaaaaaaaaah!
A & B
 Announcer:
Students, faculty,  distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell.
  Dean Buzzwell walks  onto the stage and taps the microphone.
 Buzzwell:
Welcome, New Hive  City graduating class of... (presses a button to change  the timer on the podium from 9:00 to 9:15) ...9:15. And that  concludes our graduation ceremonies.
  (Students cheer,  throw their caps into the air as helmets are placed on their heads.)
 Buzzwell:
And begins your  career at Honex Industries!
 Barry:
Are we gonna pick  our jobs today?
 Adam:
I heard it's just  orientation.
 Barry:
Huh. Woah. Heads up!  Here we go.
  (The stands for  Winger University the students are sitting in begin converting into tram  seating.)
 Female announcer:
Keep your hands and  antennas inside the tram at all times. (flies down to go in the tram  as it starts moving and repeats it in Spanish:) Mantenga sus  manos y antenas dentro del tranvía en todo momento.
 Barry:
Wonder what it's  going to be like?
 Adam:
A little  scary. (he and Barry mimic shivering and making scared noises)
 Trudy,  the Honex tour guide:
Welcome to Honex, a  division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group.
 Barry:
This is it!
 everyone:
Wow. (tram moves into the factory floor)
 Barry:
Wow.
 Trudy:
We know that you, as  a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for  your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar  to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected,  scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its  distinctive golden glow you know as...
 everyone:
Honey!
  (Tour guide grabs a  beaker of honey as they drive by and tosses it to the group, which bounce it  around towards 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.
 Trudy:
At Honex, we also  constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are  stress-testing a new helmet technology.
  (Behind a display  window, a bee puts on a helmet, then runs back and forth as levers holding a  rolled-up magazine, flyswatter and a shoe move down to try hit him. He is hit  by the magazine, dodges the flyswatter, but then hit by the boot and again by  all three, followed by being sprayed with aerosol from two cans. He signals  he's okay, but is flattened by the flyswatter, magazine and shoe converging  to strike him together. He signals he's still okay by poking his arm up  through a hole in the flyswatter and giving another thumbs up. The tram  riders applaud.)
 Adam:
Ooh. What do you  think he makes?
 Barry:
Not enough.
 Trudy:
And here we have our  latest advancement, the Krelman.
 Barry:
Wow, what does that  do?
 Trudy:
Catches that little  strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions.
  (A Krelman worker  waves and Adam waves back.)
 Adam:
Uh, uh, can anyone  work on the Krelman?
 Trudy:
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 that you  pick for the rest of your life.
 Barry:
The same job the rest  of your life? I didn't know that.
 Adam:
What's the  difference?
 Barry:
Huh?
 Trudy:
And you'll be happy  to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years.  Wooh!
 Barry:
So you'll just work  us to death?
 Trudy:
We'll sure try.
  (Everyone laughs  while Barry looks uncomfortable. The tram converts into a boat that flows  down a log-flume style ramp with honey in it, then converts back to a wheeled  tram at the end.)
  (With the tour over,  Adam and Barry head home. Adam jumps with excitement.)
 Adam:
Wow! That blew my  mind!
 Barry:
"What's the  difference?" Adam, how could you say that? One job forever? That's an  insane choice to have to make.
 Adam:
Well, 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:
Barry, why would you  question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society  on Earth.
  (a filling station  attendant yells at a bee for putting the honey nozzle into his own mouth.)
 Barry:
Yeah, but Adam, you  ever think maybe things work a little too well around here?
 Adam:
Like what? Give me  one example.
  (both stop in the  middle of an intersection. the traffic adjusts to drive around them.)
 Barry:
I don't know. But  you know what I'm talking about.
 Announcer over  speaker:
Please clear the  gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Royal Nectar Force on approach.
 Barry:
Wait a second. Check  it out. Hey, those are Pollen Jocks!
 Adam:
Wow.
  (Pollen Jocks fly  into the hive and land.)
 Adam:
I've never seen them  this close.
 Barry:
They know what it's  like outside the hive.
 Adam:
Yeah, but some of  them don't come back.
  (two lady bees wave  at the jocks and call out:)  Hey, Jocks!  Hi, Jocks!
  (the pollen is  removed from the jocks and collected into storage capsules marked  "Nectar", then trucked away. A General flies over to welcome them.)
 General:
You guys did great!  You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!
 Barry:
I wonder where those  guys have just been.
 Adam:
I don't know.
 Barry:
Their day's not  planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what.
 Adam:
You can't just  decide one day to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that.
 Barry:
Right. (pollen begins drifting down around them) Look  at that. That's more pollen than you and I will ever see in a lifetime.
 Adam:
It's just a status  symbol. I think bees make too big a deal out of it.
 Barry:
Perhaps. Unless  you're wearing it and the ladies see  you wearing it.
  (the same two lady  bees giggle at being talked about by Barry)
 Adam:
Those ladies? Aren't  they our cousins too?
 Barry:
Distant. Distant.
 Jackson:
Look at these two.
 Splitz:
Couple of Hive  Harrys.
 Jackson:
Let's have some fun  with them.
 Lady 1:
It must be so  dangerous being a Pollen Jock.
 Barry:
Oh, yeah. One time a  bear had me pinned up against a mushroom! He had one paw on my throat, and  with the other, he was slapping me back and forth across the face!
 Lady 2:
Oh, my!
 Barry:
I never thought I'd  knock him out.
 Lady 1:
(to Adam) And what were you doing during all of  this?
 Adam:
Obviously, I was  trying to alert the authorities.
 Barry:
I can autograph that  if you want.
 Jackson:
A little gusty out  there today, wasn't it, comrades?
 Barry:
Yeah. Gusty.
 Buzz:
Yeah, we're gonna  hit a sunflower patch about six miles from here tomorrow.
 Barry:
Six miles, huh?
 Adam:
Barry!
 Buzz:
It's a puddle jump  for us, but, uh, maybe you're not up for it.
 Barry:
Maybe I am.
 Adam:
(quietly:) You are not.
 Buzz:
We're going 0900 at  J-Gate.
 Adam:
Woah!
 Buzz:
What do you think,  buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough?
 Barry:
I might be. It all  depends on what 0900 means.
  (later, back at home  that night, Barry is on the balcony, looking out at the hive)
 Dad:
Hey, Honex!
 Barry:
Oh! Dad, you  surprised me.
 Dad
(laughing) Have you decided what you're interested  in, son?
 Barry:
Well, there's a lot  of choices.
 Dad:
But you only get  one. (laughs again)
 Barry:
Dad, do you ever get  bored doing the same job every day?
 Dad:
Son, let me tell you  something 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.
 Dad:
And you were  thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a  stinger.
 Barry:
Well, no...
 Dad:
Janet, your son's  not sure he wants to go into honey!
 Mom:
Oh, Barry, you are  so funny sometimes.
 Barry:
I'm not trying to be  funny.
 Dad:
You're not funny!  You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer!
 Mom:
You're gonna be a  stirrer?
 Barry:
No one's listening  to me!
 Dad:
Wait till you see  the sticks I have for you.
 Barry:
I could say anything  I want right now. (in sing-song) I'm  gonna get an ant tattoo!
 Mom:
Oh, let's open some  fresh honey and celebrate!
 Barry:
Maybe I'll pierce my  thorax.
  (Mom and dad start  walking away. Dad raises his glass and says, "To honey!")
 Barry:
Shave my antennae.
 Mom:
So funny.
 Barry:
Shack up with a  grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and start call everybody "dawg"!
 Dad:
I'm so proud.
  (Barry and Adam  arrive the next morning at the job selection booth.)
 Adam:
I can't believe  we're starting work today!
 Barry:
Today's the day.
 Adam:
Come on! All the  good jobs will be gone.
 Barry:
(unenthused) Yeah, right.
  (Dean Buzzwell at  his second job, located at the desk in front of the Honex Job Placement  Board)
 Buzzwell:
Pollen counting,  stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal...
 Sandy Shrimpkin:
Is it still  available?
 Buzzwell:
Hang on. Two left!  And ... one of them's yours! Congratulations! son, Step to the side, please.
 Sandy:
Yeah!
 Adam:
What'd you get?
 Sandy:
Picking the crud  out.
 Adam:
Woah.
 Sandy:
That is stellar!
 Adam:
Wow!
 Buzzwell:
Couple of newbies?
 Adam:
Yes, sir! Our first  day! And we are ready!
 Buzzwell:
Well, step up and  make your choice.
 Adam:
(to Barry) Do you want to go first?
 Barry:
Uh, no, you go.
 Adam:
Oh, my. What's  available?
 Buzzwell:
Restroom attendant's  always open, and not for the reason you think.
 Adam:
Any chance of  getting on to the Krelman, sir?
 Buzzwell:
Sure, you're  on. (status for Krelman worker changes suddenly) Oh,  I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.
 Adam:
Oh!
 Buzzwell:
Wax monkey's always  open. And the Krelman just opened up again.
 Adam:
What happened?
 Buzzwell:
Well, whenever a bee  dies, that's an opening. See that? He's dead, dead, another dead one, deady,  deadified, two more dead. Dead from the neck up, dead from the neck down.  But, that's life!
 Adam:
Oh, this is so hard!  Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number  seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, antenna ball polisher, mite  wrangler.... Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry!
 General:
All right, we've got  the sunflower patch in quadrant nine. Geranium window box on Sutton Place...
  (Adam calls Barry.) 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! Hello?
 Barry:
Oh, another call  coming in.
  (Barry hangs up as  Adam says again, "You're crazy!")
 General:
If anyone's feeling  brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today.
 Barry:
Hey, guys.
 Buzz:
Well, look at that.
 Splitz:
Isn't that the kid  we saw yesterday?
 General:
Hold it, son, flight  deck's restricted.
 Jackson:
It's okay, Lou.  We're gonna take him up.
 Splitz:
Yeah.
 General:
Really? Feeling  lucky, are you?
 Flight crew bee:
(holds clipboard for  Barry) Sign here, here.  Just initial that. Thank you.
 General:
Okay, 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, just babbling like a cicada!
 Barry:
That's awful.
 General:
And a reminder for  you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right,  launch positions!
  (the Pollen Jocks  begin chanting "Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!" over and over as they  change positions)
 General:
Black and yellow!
 all Jocks respond:
Hello!
 Jock Leader:
You ready for this,  hot shot?
 Barry:
Yeah. Yeah, bring it  on.
  (the Pollen Jocks  begin calling out their flight preparations:)  Wind, check.  Antennae, check.  Nectar pack, check.  Wings, check.  Stinger, check.
 Barry:
Scared out of my  shorts, check.
 General:
Okay, ladies, let's  move it out!
  (flight crews help  the Jocks get their wings started)
 General:
Pound those  petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers!
  (all depart)
 Barry:
Wow! I'm out! I  can't believe I'm out! So blue. Woah-ho-ho! I feel so fast and free! Box  kite! Wow! Woah-ho-ho-ho! Fuh-lo-wuhs!
 Splitz:
This is Blue Leader.  We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.
 Barry:
Roses!
 Jackson:
30 degrees, roger.  Bringing it around.
 Jock 1:
Stand to the side,  kid. It's got a bit of a kick.
 Barry:
Oh, that is one  nectar collector!
 Jock 1:
You ever see  pollination up close?
 Barry:
No, sir.
 Jock 1:
I pick up some  pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that  one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. ain’t it?
 Barry:
Wow, that's amazing.  Why do we do that?
 Jock 1:
That's pollen power,  kid. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us.
 Barry:
Cool.
 Buzz:
I'm picking up a lot  of bright yellow. Could be daisies. Don't we need those?
 Splitz:
Copy that visual.
 Buzz:
Hold on! One of  these flowers seems to be on the move.
 Splitz:
Say again? Are you  reporting a moving flower?
 Buzz:
Affirmative.
  (the three bees land  to check out the objects)
 Ken:
(in the distance:) That was on the line!
 Splitz:
This is the coolest.  What is it?
 Jackson:
I don't know, but  I'm loving this color.
 Splitz:
Ah, it smells good.  Not like a flower, but I like it.
 Jackson:
Yeah, fuzzy.
 Buzz:
Chemical-ly.
 Jackson:
Careful, guys, it's  a little grabby.
 Barry:
(lands on one of the  objects and hugs it) My  sweet lord of bees!
 Jackson:
Hey, candy-brain,  get off there!
 Barry:
Problem!
  (a woman picks up  the tennis ball Barry is stuck to and walks back to the serving line)
 Barry:
Guys!
 Buzz:
This could be bad.
 Jackson:
Affirmative.
  (as the woman  bounces the ball a few times, Barry's still stuck to it and says on each  bounce:)  Very close.  Gonna hurt.  Mama's little boy.
 Splitz:
You are way out of  position, rookie!
  (Barry screams as  the woman hits the ball)
 Ken:
Coming in at you  like a missile!
 Barry:
Help me!
 Jackson:
You know, I don't  think these are flowers.
 Splitz:
Should we tell him?
 Jackson:
I think he knows.
 Barry:
(screaming:) What is this?!
 Ken:
Match point! You can  just start packing up, honey, because I believe you're about to eat it!
  (Jackson clears his  throat, distracting Ken, causing Ken to hit the ball, sending it high into  the air and into the street)
 Ken:
Oh,you cannot be  serious!
 Barry:
Yowser!  (Barry gets sucked into the engine compartment of a passing car,  into the engine, before escaping through a hole and into the car's air  conditioning system, where he sees a dead bug stuck to the filter.)  Eww, gross.
  (a woman in the car  turns on the air conditioner, blowing Barry into the car's cabin, where she  sees him)
 Mother:
There's a bee in the  car! (She screams at Barry. Barry screams at her. Everyone except the  young girl screams back.)  (to her husband:) Do something!
 Father:
I'm driving!
 Young girl:
Hi, bee.
 Young boy:
He's back here! He's  going to sting me!
 Mother:
Nobody move. If you  don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze!
  (Everyone stays  still, including Barry, who hovers in the same spot.)
 Grandma:
He blinked! (she gets out a can of hair spray and sprays it on Barry)
 Young boy:
Spray him, Granny!
 Father:
What are you doing?!
  (Barry escapes out  the roof vent.)
 Barry:
Wow... the tension  level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. (something moves down past him, very close and fast) Woah. (Barry sees rain starting to fall heavily.)
 Barry:
Can't fly in rain.  Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. (a raindrop hits him, but  before he can recover, another hits him) Mayday! Mayday! Bee  going down!
  (Barry sees a window  ledge and barely makes it there, then crawls through the open window.)
 Vanessa:
Ken, could you close  the window please?
 Ken:
Huh? Oh.. Hey, Check  out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out.
 Barry:
Oh, no. More humans.  I don't need this. (tries to fly out the window  but bounces off of it) Oof! Ow! What was that? (tries again) Maybe this time. This time. This  time. This time! This time! This, this, this, this... Drapes. (taps the glass) That is diabolical.
 Ken:
(showing off his  resume:) It's  fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.
 Andy:
What's your number  one? Star Wars?
 Ken:
Nah, I don't go for  that... (mimics lasers firing) ...kind  of stuff.
 Barry:
No wonder we’re not  supposed to talk to them. They're out of their minds.
 Ken:
When I walk out of a  job interview, they're flabbergasted. They can't believe the things I say.
 Barry:
There's the sun. Maybe  that's a way out. (flies towards the light near  the ceiling) I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on  it. (bounces off it and starts falling, landing in a bowl of chip  dip)
 Ken:
I gotta tell ya, I  predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought  it was just me.
  (Andy scoops up some  of the dip with a tortilla chip, including Barry, and brings it towards his  mouth)
 Ken:
Wait! Stop! Bee!
 Anna:
Kill it! Kill it!
 Ken:
(grabs something to  kill it) Stand back.  These are winter boots.
 Vanessa:
Wait! Don't kill  him!
 Ken:
You know I'm  allergic to them! This thing could kill me!
 Vanessa:
Why does his life  have less value than yours? (Vanessa places a lass over  Barry)
 Ken:
Why does his life  have any less value than mine? Is that your statement?
 Vanessa:
I'm just saying all  life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. (Vanessa rips Ken's resume in half and slides it under the  glass)
 Ken:
My brochure.
 Vanessa:
(carries the glass  with Barry inside over to the window and release him) There you go, little guy.
 Ken:
I'm not scared of  him. But yeah, it's an allergic thing.
 Andy:
Hey, why don't you  put that on your resume-brochure?
 Ken:
It's not funny. My  whole face could puff up.
 Andy:
Hmm, make it one of  your "special skills".
 Ken:
You know, knocking  someone out is also a special skill.
  (later, as the rain  stops and the sun comes back out)
 Anna:
Right. Bye, Vanessa.  Thanks.
 Ken:
Vanessa, next week?  Yogurt night?
 Vanessa:
Ah, yeah, sure, Ken.  You know, whatever.
 Ken:
You could put carob  chips on there.
 Vanessa:
Bye.
 Ken:
Supposed to be less  calories or somethin'.
 Vanessa:
Bye. (the last of her guests have left. She shuts the door and begins  cleanup.)
 Barry:
(sighs) I gotta say something. She saved my  life. I've got to say something. All right, here it goes.
  (Barry flies back  into her house through the almost-closed window and stops in front of a can  of Bumble Bee Chunk Light Tuna as Vanessa walks by, stopping right in line  with the mascot. He starts to walk away and looks back. Says, "Huh"  and turns back around to look at the mascot, then says "Nah" as he  dismisses the picture and continues walking.)
  (Barry resumes  flying and lands on a postcard from Coney Island taped to the refrigerator,  again in a position where Vanessa doesn't notice him.)
 Barry:
What would I say? I  could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a  human. I can't believe I'm doing this. (begins debating with  himself) I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Come on! No. Yes.  No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "Ya like jazz?" No,  that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool!
 Barry:
(to Vanessa:) Um, hi!
  (Vanessa gasps and  drops the dishes)
 Barry:
I'm sorry.
 Vanessa:
Hah, you're talking.
 Barry:
Yes, I know, I know.  I'm so–
 Vanessa:
You're talking.
 Barry:
I know. I'm– I'm  sorry. I'm so sorry.
 Vanessa:
No, it's okay. It's  fine. It's just... I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed.
 Barry:
Well, you know, I'm  sure this is very disconcerting....
 Vanessa:
Yeah! I mean, this  is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee!
 Barry:
Yeah.
 Vanessa:
Yeah.
 Barry:
Yeah, I am a bee. And,  uh, you know I'm not supposed to be doing this, but...
  (Vanessa makes a  small "Oh" and "uh-huh" noises while Barry's talking)
 Barry:
...they were all  trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I mean, I had to thank you. It's,  it's just the way I was raised.
  (Vanessa grabs a  fork and stabs herself in the hand, then cries out)
 Barry:
Oh! That was a  little weird.
 Vanessa:
I'm talking to a  bee.
 Barry:
Yeah.
 Vanessa:
I'm talking to a  bee.
 Barry:
Anyway...
 Vanessa:
And the bee is talking  to me!
 Barry:
Um, I just want to  say I'm grateful, and I'm going to leave now.
 Vanessa:
Wait, wait, wait,  wait! How did you learn to do that?
 Barry:
What?
 Vanessa:
That- that- that-  that... The talking thing.
 Barry:
Oh, same way you  did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up.
 Vanessa:
(laughs  unconvincingly) That's  very funny.
 Barry:
Yeah. Bees are  funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway...
 Vanessa:
Can I uh... get you  something?
 Barry:
Like what?
 Vanessa:
I don't know. I  mean.. I don't know. Coffee?
 Barry:
Well, uh, I don't  want to put you out, unless you're making it anyway.
 Vanessa:
Oh, it's no trouble.  Oh, it takes two minutes.
 Barry:
Really?
 Vanessa:
It's just coffee.
 Barry:
I hate to impose.
 Vanessa:
Don't be ridiculous!
 Barry:
Actually, I would  love a cup.
 Vanessa:
Hey, you want a  little rum cake?
 Barry:
I really shouldn't.
 Vanessa:
Have a little rum  cake.
 Barry:
No, no, no, I can't.
 Vanessa:
Oh, come on!
 Barry:
You know, I'm trying  to lose a couple micrograms here.
 Vanessa:
Where?
 Barry:
Well... these  stripes don't help.
 Vanessa:
You look great!
 Barry:
I don't know if you  know anything about fashion.
  (Vanessa walks away  and begins pouring coffee onto the floor, a coffee cup in her other hand)
 Barry:
Are you all right?
 Vanessa:
No.
  (fade to Vanessa and  Barry on her roof terrace, talking and having coffee)
 Barry:
He's making the tie  in the cab as they're flying up Madison. So he finally gets there.
 Vanessa:
Uh huh.
 Barry:
He runs up the steps  into the church. The wedding is on...
 Vanessa:
Yeah?
 Barry:
...and he says,  "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan."
 Vanessa:
Uh huh?
 Barry:
Why would I marry a  watermelon? (Barry laughs)
  (Vanessa's more  confused than amused. Barry gestures, indicating his joke is done.)
 Vanessa:
Oh, Is that a... a  bee joke?
 Barry:
Yeah, that's the  kind of stuff that we do.
 Vanessa:
Yeah, different. So,  anyway, what are you gonna do, Barry?
 Barry:
About work? I don't  know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I, I can't do it the way they  want.
 Vanessa:
I know how you feel.
 Barry:
You do?
 Vanessa:
Sure. My parents  wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.
 Barry:
Really?
 Vanessa:
My only interest is  flowers.
 Barry:
Our new queen was  just elected with that same campaign slogan.
 Vanessa:
Oh, huh.
 Barry:
Anyway, you see if  you look... There. There's my hive right there. You can see it.
 Vanessa:
Oh, you're in Sheep  Meadow!
 Barry:
Yes! You know the  turtle pond?
 Vanessa:
Yes?
 Barry:
I'm right off of  that.
 Vanessa:
Oh, no way! I know  that area. Do you know I lost a toe ring there once.
  (behind them, a  janitor comes onto the roof and begins working on replacing a light bulb)
 Barry:
Really?
 Vanessa:
Yes.
 Barry:
Why do girls put  rings on their toes?
 Vanessa:
Well, why not?
 Barry:
I don't know. It's  like putting a hat on your knee.
 Vanessa:
Maybe I'll try that.
 Janitor:
You all right, ma'am?
 Vanessa:
(realizing how it  must look, talking to herself:) Oh, yeah, fine. Just having two cups of coffee. (she laughs)
  (Vanessa and Barry  share a little quiet time)
 Barry:
Anyway, this has  been great. Thanks for the coffee.
 Vanessa:
Oh, yeah, it's no  trouble.
 Barry:
Sorry I couldn't  finis it. If I did, I'd be up for the rest of my life. Are you... Umm. Can I  take a piece of this with me?
 Vanessa:
Sure! Here, have a  crumb. (She passes one to Barry on her fingertip)
 Barry:
Oh, thanks.
 Vanessa:
Yeah.
 Barry:
All right, well,  then... I guess I'll see you around, or not, or...
 Vanessa:
Okay, Barry.
 Barry:
And thank you so  much again... for before.
 Vanessa:
Oh, that? That was  nothing.
 Barry:
Well, not nothing,  but... anyway...
  (Barry extends his  hand. Vanessa touches it with her finger and they gingerly shake. The janitor  looks over and continues tightening the bulb in the socket. It shorts,  causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards.)
  (The next day at the  Honex building, hurricane survival testing is in progress. A bee wearing a  parachute is in a wind tunnel.)
 Testing bee 1:
This can't possibly  work.
 Testing bee 2:
Well, he's all set  to go. We may as well try it. (via intercom:) Okay,  Dave. pull the chute.
  (Dave pulls the cord  and is immediately blown backwards. He slides down the wall and shakily gives  a thumbs up signal. Barry and Adam walk by the outside of the testing  chamber.)
 Adam:
Sounds amazing.
 Barry:
Oh, it was amazing.  It- it was the scariest, happiest moment of my life.
 Adam:
Humans! Humans! I  can't believe you were with humans! Giant scary humans! What were they like?
 Barry:
Huge and crazy. They  talk crazy, they eat crazy giant things. They drive around real crazy.
 Adam:
And do they try and  kill you like on TV?
 Barry:
Some of them. But  some of them don't.
 Adam:
How'd you get back?
 Barry:
Poodle.
 Adam:
Look, you did it.  And I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see out there, You had your  "experience", and now you're back, you can pick out your job and  everything can be normal.
 Barry:
Well...
 Adam:
Well? Well?
 Barry:
Well, I met someone.
 Adam:
You met someone? Was  she Bee-ish?
 Barry:
Mmm.
 Adam:
Not a wasp? Your parents will kill you.
 Barry:
No, no, no, not a  wasp.
 Adam:
Spider?
 Barry:
You know, I'm not  attracted to the spiders. I know to everyone else it's like the hottest thing  with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. (Barry grimaces and makes a noise.)
 Adam:
So, uh, who is she?
 Barry:
She's... uh... a  human.
 Adam:
Oh no, no, no, no.  That didn't happen. You didn't do that. That is a bee law. You wouldn't break  a bee law.
 Barry:
Her name's Vanessa.
 Adam:
Oh, oh boy!
 Barry:
She's so-o nice. And  she's a florist!
 Adam:
Oh, no. No, no, no!  You're dating a human florist?
 Barry:
W-w-well, we're not  dating.
 Adam:
You're flying  outside the hive. You're talking to human beings that attack our homes with  power washers and M-80s. That's one-eighth of a stick of dynamite.
 Barry:
She saved my life.  And she understands me.
 Adam:
This is over.
 Barry:
(pulls out the rum  cake crumb) Eat  this. (pushes it into Adam's face.)
 Adam:
This is not over. What was that?
 Barry:
They call it a  crumb.
 Adam:
That was so stingin' stripey!
 Barry:
And that's not even  what they eat. That just falls off what they eat. Do you know what a Cinnabon  is?
 Adam:
No.
 Barry:
It's bread...
 Adam:
Come in here! (opens the door to the office where he works and guides Barry  inside)
 Barry:
...and cinnamon,
 Adam:
Be quiet!
 Barry:
...and frosting.  They heat it up–
 Adam:
Sit down!
 Barry:
Really hot!
 Adam:
Listen to me! We are  not them. We're us. There's us and there's them.
 Barry:
Yes, but who can  deny the heart that is yearning...
 Adam:
There's no yearning.  Stop yearning. Listen to me. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend.
  (another bee joins  in:) Thinking bee.  (and another joins in:) Thinking bee.  (all bees in the office begin chanting:) Thinking  bee. Thinking bee. Thinking bee.
  (Outside his house,  Barry sits on a raft in his family's hexagon-shaped honey pool, legs dangling  into the honey. Mom and dad approach, wearing cabana-type outfits, sun  shining behind them.)
 Mom:
There he is. He's in  the pool.
 Dad:
You know what your  problem is, Barry?
 Barry:
I've got to start  thinking bee?
 Dad:
Barry, how much  longer is this going to go on? It's been three days. I don't understand why  you're not working.
 Barry:
Well, I've got a lot  of big life decisions I'm thinking about
 Dad:
What life? You have  no life! You have no job! You're barly a bee!
 Barry:
Augh.
 Mom:
Would it kill you to  just make a little honey?
  (Barry rolls off the  raft and sinks into the pool.)
 Mom:
Barry, come out from  under there. Your rather's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him?
 Dad:
Barry, I'm talking  to you.
  (Barry keeps  swimming downward through the honey, which clears and leads him to a park  where Vanessa is waiting for him, reclining on a picnic blanket. "Sugar Sugar"  by The Archies is playing in the background. She swats a mosquito that lands  on her leg, then looks at Barry for his reaction. Both are surprised, but  then laugh about it.)
 Vanessa:
You coming? (said in a sultry way)
 Barry:
Got everything?
 Vanessa:
All set. (She gets into a one-man ultralight plane with a  black-and-yellow paint job and puts on her helmet. She and the plane are now  Barry's size.)
 Barry:
You go ahead. I'll  catch up.
 Vanessa:
Don't be too  long. (The plane takes off. Barry soon catches up and they fly  together.)
 Vanessa:
Watch this!
  (The plane does a  loop, trailing red smoke that forms a heart, then crashes into the side of a  rock pile, bursting into flames.)
 Barry:
(yelling in  anguish:) Vanessa! (his cry changes to bubbles escaping his mouth)
  (Barry breaks the  surface of the pool, gasping for air.)
 Dad:
We're still here,  Barry.
 Mom:
I told you not to  yell at him. He doesn't respond when you yell at him.
 Dad:
Then why are you  yelling at me?
 Mom:
Because you don't  listen.
 Dad:
Ah, I'm not listing  to this.
 Barry:
(dries himself and  puts on his sweater) Sorry  Mom, I've got to go.
 Mom:
Where are you going?
 Barry:
Nowhere. I'm meeting  a friend.
 Mom:
(calling after him:) A girl? Is this why you can't decide?
 Barry:
Bye!
 Mom:
I just hope she's  Bee-ish.
  (Vanessa exits her  florist shop, flipping the sign over and locking the door.)
 Barry:
(he see the  Tournament of Roses Parade poster) So they have a huge parade of just flowers every year in  Pasadena?
 Vanessa:
Oh, to be in the  Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream. Up on a float, surrounded  by flowers, crowds cheering.
 Barry:
Wow, a tournament.  Do the roses actually complete in athletic events?
 Vanessa:
No. All right, I've  got one. How come you don't fly everywhere?
 Barry:
It's exhausting.
 Vanessa:
Hmmm.
 Barry:
Why don't you run  everywhere? Isn't that faster?
 Vanessa:
Yeah, okay. I see, I  see. All right, your turn.
 Barry:
Ah! Tivo. You can  just freeze live TV? That's insane.
 Vanessa:
What, you don't have  anything like that?
 Barry:
We have Hivo, but  it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease.
 Vanessa:
Oh my.
  (They turn a corner  onto a busier street. People start swatting at Barry.)
 Man:
Dumb bees!
 Vanessa:
You must just want  to sting all those jerks.
 Barry:
We really try not to  sting. It's usually fatal for us.
 Vanessa:
So you really have  to watch your temper?
  (they enter a  supermarket)
 Barry:
Oh yeah, very  carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it  out. You work though it like any emotion– anger, jealousy, (under his breath) lust.
  (Barry lands on  cardboard boxes in the aisle. A stock boy hits him with a rolled-up  advertisement.)
 Vanessa:
(to Barry:) Oh my goodness. Are you okay?
 Barry:
Yeah. Whew!
 Vanessa:
(to Hector, the  stockboy:) What is  wrong with you?!
 Hector:
It's a bug.
 Vanessa:
Well, he's not  bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep. (She slaps him with the advertisement and he leaves, muttering.)
 Barry:
(shakes off the hit) What was that, a Pick and Save  circular?
 Vanessa:
Yeah, it was. How  did you know?
 Barry:
It felt like about  ten pages. Seventy-five's pretty much our limit.
 Vanessa:
Boy, you've really  got that down to a science.
 Barry:
Oh, we have to. I  lost a cousin to Italian Vogue.
 Vanessa:
I'll bet.
 Barry:
(he stops when he  sees the rows of honey jars) What  in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Cute Bee?  Golden Blossom? Ray Liotta Private Select.
 Vanessa:
Is he that actor?
 Barry:
I never heard of  him. Why is this here?
 Vanessa:
For people. We eat  it.
 Barry:
Why? (he gestures around the market) You don't have  enough food of your own?
 Vanessa:
Well yes, we–
 Barry:
How do you even get  it?
 Vanessa:
Well, bees make  it...
 Barry:
I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it!  There's heating and cooling, and stirring... you need a whole Krelman thing.
 Vanessa:
It's organic.
 Barry:
It's our-ganic!
 Vanessa:
It's just honey,  Barry.
 Barry:
Just... what?! Bees  don't know about this. This is stealing. A lot of stealing! You've taken our  homes, our schools, our hospitals. This is all we have. And it's on sale? I'm  going to get to the bottom of this. I'm going to get to the bottom of all of  this!
  (Barry rips off the  label from a jar of Ray Liotta Private Select Honey)
  (Later, Barry's  infiltrating the supermarket loading dock by covering up his yellow stripes  with a Magic Marker and putting on war paint. Hector's opening more boxes of  honey jars.)
 Man:
Hey, Hector. You  almost done?
 Hector:
Almost.
  (Barry steps in some  honey. Hector stops and turns.)
 Hector:
He is here. I sense  it. (he grabs his box cutter as Barry hides)
  (Barry hides behind  a box again)
 Hector:
(talking loud to the  open room as he opens a jar of honey from a box:) Well, I guess I'll go home now, and  just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. (pretends to walk away)
 Barry:
(he steps out into the  light) You're busted,  box boy!
 Hector:
Ah ha! I knew I  heard something. So, you can talk.
  (Barry flies at him,  stinger first, backing him against the wall. Hector drops the knife.)
 Barry:
Oh, I can talk. And  now you're going to start talking. Where are you getting all the sweet stuff?  Who's your supplier?!
 Hector:
I don't know what  you're talking about. I though we were all friends. The last thing we want to  do is upset any of you... bees!
  (Hector grabs a push  pin. Barry begins fencing with his stinger..)
 Hector:
Ha! You're too late.  It's ours now!
 Barry:
You, sir, have  crossed the wrong sword.
 Hector:
You, sir, are about  to be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio!
  (The fight  continues. They cross swords and get nose-to-nose.)
 Barry:
Where is the honey  coming from? (Barry knocks the push pin away and put his  stinger up to Hector's nose.) Tell me where!
 Hector:
(points to a truck) Honey Farms. It comes from Honey Farms.
  (Barry flies after  the departing truck, dodging a bus, taxis and a messenger on a bicycle. One  driver yells at messenger, "Crazy person!")
  (Barry continues his  pursuit, using the elastic strap on a bicycle messenger's helmet to launch  himself towards the truck. He lands on the windshield, pressed against it by  the wind. He sees himself surrounded by dead bugs, then works his way around  them.)
 Barry:
Oh my. What horrible  thing has happened here? Look at these faces. They never knew what hit them.  And now they're on the road to nowhere.
  (a mosquito opens  his eyes) Pssst! Just  keep still.
 Barry:
What? You're not  dead?
 Mooseblood:
Do I look dead? Hey  man, they will wipe anything that moves. Now, where you headed?
 Barry:
To Honey Farms. I am  onto something huge here.
 Mooseblood:
I'm going to Alaska.  Moose blood. Crazy stuff. Blows your head off.
 Ladybug:
I'm going to Tacoma.
 Barry:
(to a fly:) What about you?
 Mooseblood:
He really is dead.
 Barry:
All right.
  (the driver's hand  moves to the windshield wiper lever)
 Mooseblood:
Uh oh.
 Barry:
What is that?
 Mooseblood:
Oh no! It's a wiper,  triple blade!
 Barry:
Triple blade?
 Mooseblood:
Jump on. It's your  only chance, bee.
  (They hang onto the  wiper as it moves back and forth. Mooseblood yells at the driver through the  glass)
 Mooseblood:
Why does everything  have to be so dog-gone clean?! How much do you people need to see? Open your  eyes! Stick your head out the window!
  (inside the cab, the  radio's playing)
 Announcer:
For NPR News in  Washington, I'm Carl Kasell.
 Mooseblood:
But don't kill no  more bugs! (he is flung off the wiper as the washer  fluid sprays onto the windshield) Beeeeeeeee!
 Barry:
Moose blood guy!
  (Barry gets flung  off, grabs ahold of the radio antenna. A cricket flying by grabs ahold of the  antenna. Both scream are screaming.)
 Driver:
You hear something?
 Passenger:
Like what?
 Driver:
Like tiny screaming.
 Passenger:
Turn off the radio.
  (The driver turns  off the radio and the antenna retracts. As it lowers, the cricket and Barry  work their way to its top. Barry wins and the cricket has to let go, but then  so does Barry, and he's sucked into the air horn on the top of the truck.)
 Mooseblood:
Hey, what's up, bee  boy?
 Barry:
Hey, Blood!
  (inside the truck  horn, later during the drive)
 Barry:
...and it was just  an endless row of honey jars as far as the eye could see.
 Mooseblood:
Wow.
 Barry:
So I'm just assuming  wherever this honey truck goes, that's where they're getting it. I mean, that  honey's ours!
 Mooseblood:
Bees hang tight.
 Barry:
Well, we're all  jammed in there. It's a close community.
 Mooseblood:
Not us, man. We're  on our own. Every- every mosquito is on his own.
 Barry:
But what if you get  in trouble?
 Mooseblood:
Trouble? You're a  mosquito. You're in trouble! Nobody likes us. They're just all smackin'.  People see a mosquito, smack, smack!
 Barry:
At least you're out  in the world. You must meet a lot of girls.
 Mooseblood:
Mosquito girls try  to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly.... Mosquito girl don't want no  mosquito.
  (A bloodmobile  passes them.)
 Mooseblood:
Whoa, you have got  to be kidding me. Mooseblood's about to leave the building. So long  bee. (he leaves and jumps onto the other vehicle, saying to the bugs  on its windshield:) Hey guys. I knew I'd catch you all down  here. Did you bring your crazy straws?
  (At Honey Farms, the  truck stops. Barry flies out of the horn and lands on the nose of the truck.  Two beekeepers walk around the back side of the gift shop. Barry follows,  landing in a tree.)
 Freddy:
...then we throw it  in some jars, slap a label on it. It's pretty much pure profit.
 Barry:
What is this place?
 Elmo:
A bee's got a brain  the size of a pinhead.
 Freddy:
They are pinheads.
  (both laugh and Elmo  says, "Pinhead". Freddy opens a smoker box after they arrive)
 Freddy:
Hey, check out the  new smoker.
 Elmo:
Oh, sweet. That's the  one you want.
 Freddy:
The Thomas 3000.
 Barry:
Smoker?
 Freddy:
Ninety puffs a  minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. (both laugh again)
 Freddy:
Couple of breaths of  this, knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money.
  (Barry flies onto  Freddy's hat and onto the brim.)
 Elmo:
"They make the  honey, and we make the money."
  (Freddy and Elmo  walk onward. Freddy opens an apiary box and sprays it with smoke. Inside, the  bees start moaning and gasping.)
 Barry:
Oh my.
  (Barry flies into  the open box as Freddy leaves and makes his way into an apartment. Two bees  are just waking up.)
 Barry:
What's going on? Are  you okay?
 Howard:
Yeah, it doesn't  last too long.
 Barry:
How did you two get  here? Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls?
 Howard:
(points to a  picture) Our queen was  moved here. We had no choice.
 Barry:
(looks at the  picture) This is your  queen? That's a man in women's clothes. That's a drag-queen!
  (The walls  separating the apartments are removed, revealing hundreds of them.)
 Barry:
What is this? (Flies through the apartments and out into the open air. He  hovers high above a tree, where he sees even more apiary boxes on the farm.  He begins taking pictures) Oh no. There's hundreds of them.  Bee honey, our honey, is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale.
  (Back at home,  Barry's talking with his parents, Adam and Uncle Carl.)
 Barry:
This is worse than  anything the bears have done to us. And I intend to do something about it.
 Mom:
Oh Barry, stop.
 Dad:
Who told you that  humans are taking our honey? That's just a rumor.
 Barry:
Do these look like  rumors? (Barry throws his pictures on the table)
 Uncle Carl:
That's a conspiracy  theory. These are obviously doctored photos.
 Barry:
Ugh.
 Mom:
Barry, how did you  get mixed up in all this?
 Adam:
'Cause he's been  talking to humans!
 Mom:
Whaaat?
 Dad:
Talking to humans?!
 Adam:
He has a human  girlfriend...
 Dad:
Oh Barry.
 Adam:
...and they make  out!
 Mom:
Make out? Barry?
 Barry:
We do not.
 Adam:
You wish you could.
 Barry:
Who's side are you  on?
 Adam:
The bees!
 Uncle Carl:
I dated a cricket  once in San Antonio. Man, those crazy legs kept me up all night. Hotcheewah!
 Mom:
Barry, this is what  you want to do with your life?:
 Barry:
This is what I want  to do for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees. Dad, I remember you  coming home some nights so overworked, you- your hands were still stirring.  You couldn't stop them.
 Dad:
Ehhh...
 Mom:
(to her husband:) I remember that.
 Barry:
What right do they  have to our hard-earned honey? We're living on two cups a year. They're  puttin' it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever.
 Dad:
Even if it's true,  Barry, what could one bee do?
 Barry:
I'm going to sting  them where it really hurts.
 Dad:
In the face!
 Barry:
No.
 Dad:
In the eye! That  would really hurt.
 Barry:
No.
 Dad:
Up the nose. That's  a killer, heh heh.
 Barry:
No. There's only one  place you can sting the humans. One place where it really matters.
  (The scene cuts to  the title sequence of the "Hive at Five" program. The title  sequence shows news events covered in the past: a Pollen Jock coming in for a  crash landing with a stinger that's on fire, a protest about bee beards, and  a bear destroying  a hive. Next are the newscasters.)
 voice over:
Hive at Five, the  hive's only full hour action news source. With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk,  weather with Storm Stinger, sports with Buzz Larvi, and Jeanette Chung.
 Bob:
Good evening, I'm  Bob Bumble.
 Jeanette:
And I'm Jeanette  Chung.
 Bob:
Our top story, a  tri-county bee, Barry Benson is saying he intends to sue the human race for  stealing our honey, packaging it, and profiting from it illegally.
  (Broadcast shifts  again to another studio in the building for "Bee Larry King Live".)
 Bee Larry King:
Don't forget,  tomorrow night on Bee Larry King,  we're gonna have three former Queens, all right here in our studio,  discussing their new book, Classy Ladies, out  this week on Hexagon.  (to Barry:) Tonight, we're talking with Barry  Benson. Did ya ever think, I'm just a kid from the hive. I can't do this?
 Barry:
Larry, bees have  never been afraid to change the world. I mean, what about Bee-Columbus?  Bee-Ghandi? Be-geesus?
 Bee Larry King:
Well, where I'm  from, you wouldn't think of suing humans. We were thinking more like stick  ball, uh, candy stores.
 Barry:
How old are you?
 Bee Larry King:
Well, I want you to  know that they entire bee community is supporting you in this case, which is  certain to be the trial of the bee century.
 Barry:
Thank you, Larry.  You know, they have a Larry King in the human world, too.
 Bee Larry King:
It's a common name.  Next week on Bee Larry King...
 Barry:
No, I mean he looks  like you. And he has a show with suspenders and different colored dots behind  him.
 Bee Larry King:
Next week on Bee  Larry King...
 Barry:
Old guy glasses, and  there's quotes along the bottom from the guest you're watching even though  you just heard them...
 Bee Larry King:
Bear next week!  They're scary, they're hairy, and they're here live. (he exits)
 Barry:
Always leans  forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes.... Very Jewish.
  (Nighttime at  Vanessa's Flower Shop. Law books and legal forms are piled up.)
 Ken:
Look, in- in tennis,  you attack at the point of weakness.
 Vanessa:
But it was my  grandmother, Ken. She's 81.
 Ken:
Huh, honey, her  backhand's a joke. I'm not going to take advantage of that?
 Barry:
Quiet, please.  Actual work going on here.
 Ken:
Is that that same  bee?
 Barry:
Yes it is.
 Vanessa:
I'm helping him sue  the human race.
 Ken:
Wha?
 Barry:
(enters room, sees  Ken) Oh, hello.
 Ken:
Hello, bee.
 Vanessa:
This is Ken.
 Barry:
Yeah, I remember  you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe.
 Ken:
Why does he talk  again, hun?
 Vanessa:
Listen, you better  go because we're really busy working.
 Ken:
But it's our yogurt  night.
 Vanessa:
(she pushes him out  the door) Oh... bye  bye.
 Ken:
(from outside the  now-closed door) Why is  yogurt night so difficult?
 Vanessa:
Oh you poor thing,  you two have been at this for hours.
 Barry:
Yes, and Adam here  has been a huge help.
  (Adam is asleep  inside an empty Cinnabon box, covered in frosting and muttering in his sleep  about it.)
 Vanessa:
(referring to the  coffee:) How many  sugars?
 Barry:
Just one. I try not  to use the competition. Ooh! So, why are you helping me, anyway?
 Vanessa:
Bees have good  qualities.
 Barry:
Si, Certo.
 Vanessa:
And it feels good to  take my mind off the shop. I don't know why, instead of flowers, people are  giving balloon bouquets now.
 Barry:
Yeah, those are  great... if you're three.
 Vanessa:
And artificial  flowers.
 Barry:
Oh, those just get  my psychotic!
 Vanessa:
Yeah, me too.
 Barry:
The bent stingers,  the pointless pollination.
 Vanessa:
Bees must hate those  fake plastic things.
 Barry:
There's nothing  worse than a daffodil that's had work done.
 Vanessa:
Well, maybe this can  make up for it a little bit.
  (they exit the  flower shop and go to the mailbox)
 Vanessa:
You know, Barry,  this lawsuit is a pretty big deal.
 Barry:
I guess.
 Vanessa:
Are you sure that you  want to go through with it?
 Barry:
Am I sure? When I'm  done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home,"  without paying a royalty.
  (Outside the  courthouse, a reporter begins her segment, talking to the camera.)
 Reporter:
Sarah, it's an  incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan where all eyes and ears of the  world are anxiously waiting, because for the first time in history, we're  going to hear for ourselves if a honey bee can actually speak.
  (Inside, Barry,  Vanessa and Adam sit at a table.)
 Vanessa:
What have we gotten  into here, Barry?
 Barry:
I don't know, but  it's pretty big, isn't it?
 Adam:
I can't believe how  many humans don't have to be at work during the day.
 Barry:
Hey, you think these  billion dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers?
  (Back outside the  courthouse, a policeman announces though a megaphone, "Folks, everybody  needs to stay behind the barricade." A very expensive car drives up with  a license plate saying "ALIBUY" and the initials LTM on the hood  ornament. The lawyer gets out, sees a bug and steps on it. Inside, Barry  shudders.)
 Vanessa:
What's the matter?
 Barry:
I don't know. I just  got a chill.
 Layton T. Montgomery:
Well, if it isn't  the B-Team.. (waves a honey packet he picked up from the  saucer holding his drink) Any of you boys work on this? (he chuckles)
 Bailiff:
All rise! The  Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding.
 Judge Bumbleton:
All right... Case  number 4475, Superior Court of New York. Barry Bee Benson vs. the honey  industry, is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five  major food companies, collectively.
 Layton:
A privilege.
 Judge:
Ah, Mr. Benson. You  are representing all bees of the  world?
  (Inside and outside  the courtroom, everyone is waiting to hear what he will say.)
 Barry:
Bzzz bzzz  bzzz...Ahh, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Yes, your honor. We are ready to  proceed.
 Judge:
And Mr. Montgomery,  your opening statement, please.
 Layton:
(clears throat and  speaks in a very heavy and exaggerated Southern drawl) Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. My  grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's  divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we  were to live in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, j-j-just think of  what it would mean. Maybe I would have to negotiate with the silk worm for  the elastic in my britches. Talking bee. How do we know this isn't some sort  of holographic motion picture capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using  laser beams, robotics, ventriloquism, cloning...for all we know, he could be  on steroids!
 Judge:
Mr. Benson?
 Barry:
Ladies and Gentlemen  of the jury, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. And as a  bee, honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented  it, we make it, and we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are  some people in this room who think they can take whatever they want from us  'cause we're the little guys. And what I'm hoping is that after this is all  over, you'll see how by taking our honey, you're not only taking away  everything we have, but everything we are.
  (Vanessa smiles and  silently claps and the bees in the courtroom are moved by his words. Back at  their house, Barry's parents are watching on TV.)
 Mom:
Oh, I wish he would  dress like that all the time. So nice...
 Judge:
Call your first  witness.
 Barry:
So, Mr. Klauss  Vanderhayden of Honey Farms. Pretty big company you have there?
 Vanderhayden:
I suppose so.
 Barry:
And I see you also  own Honey-Burton, and Honron!
 Vanderhayden:
Yes. They provide beekeepers  for our farms.
 Barry:
Beekeeper. I find  that to be a very disturbing term, I have to say. I don't imagine you employ  any bee free-ers, do you?
 Vanderhayden:
Uh, n-no.
 Barry:
I'm sorry. I  couldn't hear you.
 Vanderhayden:
(louder) No.
 Barry:
No. Because you  don't free bees. You keep bees. And not only that, it seems you thought a  bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey?
 Vanderhayden:
W-well, they're very  lovable creatures. Uh, Yogi Bear, Fozzy Bear. Oh! Build-a-Bear?
 Barry:
Yeah, you mean like  this?!
  (Vanessa and a man  enter, guiding a giant grizzly bear restrained by a collar with chains  atttached to both sides. They bring him in front of Vanderhayden. The bear  lunges at him and roars.)
 Barry:
Bears kill bees! How  would you like his big hairy head crashing into your living room? Biting into  your couch, spitting out your throw-pillows...rowr, rowr!
 Bear:
Rowr!!
 Barry:
Okay, that's enough.  Take him away.
  (Vincent stops  roaring. He and the man depart without incident, leaving Vanderhayden  trembling with the Judge glaring at him and Layton angrily growling himself.)
  (Later, Barry  questions another witness.)
 Barry:
So, Mr. Sting. Thank  you for being here. Your name intrigues me, I have to say. Where have I heard  it before?
 Sting:
I was with a band  called "The Police".
 Barry:
But you've never  been a police officer of any kind, have you?
 Sting:
Uh, no, I haven't.
 Barry:
No, you haven't. And  so, here we have yet another example of bee culture being casually stolen by  a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name.
 Sting:
Oh, please.
 Barry:
Have you ever been  stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say,  Mr. Gordon M. Sumner?
  The jury gasps
 Layton:
(to his assistants:) That's not his real name? You idiots!
  (later on, Barry's  questioning another witness)
 Barry:
(reading from the  base of the statue the witness is holding) Mr. Liotta, first may I offer my belated congratulations on your  Emmy win for a guest spot on E.R. in 2005.
 Ray Liotta:
Thank you. Thank  you. (he laughs maniacally)
 Barry:
I also see from your  resume that you're devilishly handsome, but with a churning inner turmoil  that's always ready to blow.
 Ray:
I enjoy what I do.  Is that a crime?
 Barry:
Not yet it isn't.  But is this what it's come to for you, Mr. Liotta? Exploiting tiny helpless  bees so you don't have to rehearse your part, and learn your lines, sir?
 Ray:
Watch it, Benson, I  could blow right now!
 Barry:
This isn't a  goodfella. This is a badfella!
 Ray:
(suddenly upset, he  tries to smash Barry with his Emmy statue) Why doesn't someone just step on this little creep and we can  all go home? You're all thinking it. Say it!
 Judge:
Order! Order in this  courtroom! Order, I say! Mr. Liotta, please sit down!
  (The reaction from  the press is harsh. The headline of the New York Telegram has "Sue  Bee", the New York Post reads "Bees to Humans: Buzz Off", and  the Daily Variety reports "Studio Dumps Liotta Project. Slams Door on  Unlawful Entry 2.")
  (That evening, in  Vanessa's apartment.)
 Barry:
Well, I just think  that was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that.
 Vanessa:
I'm telling you, I  think the jury's on our side.
 Barry:
Are we doing  everything right, you know, legally?
 Vanessa:
I'm a florist.
 Barry:
Right, right. (he raises his glass) Well, here's to a great  team.
 Vanessa:
To a great  team. (both toast and Ken enters the apartment)
 Ken:
Well, hello.
 Vanessa:
Oh... Ken.
 Barry:
Hello.
 Vanessa:
Ah, I didn't think  you were coming.
 Ken:
No, I was just late.  I tried to call. But, the battery...
 Vanessa:
I didn't want all  this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily he was free.
 Barry:
Yeah.
 Ken:
Oh, that was lucky.
 Vanessa:
Well, there's still  a little left. I could heat it up.
 Ken:
Yeah, heat it up.  Sure, whatever.
 Barry:
So, I hear you're  quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. I find the ball a  little grabby.
 Ken:
That's where I  usually sit. Right there.
 Vanessa:
(from kitchen) Ken, Barry was looking at your resume,  and he agreed with me that "eating with chopsticks" isn't really a  special skill.
 Ken:
(to Barry:) You think I don’t see what you’re  doin'?
 Barry:
Hey look, I know how  hard it is trying to find the right job. We certainly have that in common.
 Ken:
Do we?
 Barry:
Well, bees have 100%  employment, of course. But we do jobs like taking the crud out.
 Ken:
That’s just what I  was thinking about doing.
  (Ken reaches for a  knife but pushes it off the table. He bends down to pick it up.)
 Vanessa:
(from kitchen) Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for  his fuzz. I hope that was all right.
  (Ken hits his head  on the table as he straightens back up, then presses the apple cider bottle  against his temple to soothe it)
 Barry:
I’m going to go  drain the ol' stinger.
 Ken:
Yeah, you do that.
  (Barry flies a  couple of loops in front of Ken as he heads to the bathroom, causing Ken to  shake the bottle and get cider in his eyes. Barry grabs a small section of  Variety Magazine as he goes.)
 Barry:
Huh, look at  that. (tears off a small corner off Variety Magazine as he goes in.)
  (as Barry finishes  up and washes his hands, Ken enters carrying a large magazine)
 Ken:
Y-yo, you known,  I've just about had it with your little mind games.
 Barry:
What's that?
 Ken:
Italian Vogue. (he curls the magazine tight)
 Barry:
Mamma Mia, that's a  lot of pages.
 Ken:
It's a lot of ads.
 Barry:
Remember what Van  said. Why is your life any more valuable than mine?
 Ken:
That's funny, I just  can't seem to recall that! (He whacks Barry with the  magazine. He misses and knocks everything off the vanity. He grabs a can of  air freshener.)
 Ken:
I think something  stinks in here! (He sprays at Barry)
 Barry:
I love the smell of  flowers.
 Ken:
Yeah, How do you  like the smell of flames?! (He lights the stream)
 Barry:
Not as much. (Barry screams)
  Barry flies in a  circle. Ken, trying to stay with him, spins in place. There are flames  outside the bathroom door. Ken slips on the Italian Vogue, falls backward  into the shower, pulling down the shower curtain. The can hits him in the  head, followed by the shower curtain rod, and the rubber duck. Ken reaches  back, grabs the handheld shower head. He whips around, looking for Barry.  There's a water bug near the drain.
 Water bug:
Water bug! Not  taking sides!
  Barry is on the  toilet tank. He comes out from behind a shampoo bottle, wearing a chapstick  cap as a helmet.
 Barry:
Ken, look at me! I'm  wearing a chapstick hat! This is pathetic! (Ken is turning the hand  shower nozzle from "GENTLE", to "TURBO", to  "LETHAL".)
 Ken:
I've got issues!
  (Ken fires the water  at Barry, knocking him into the toilet. The items from the vanity (emory  board, lipstick, eye curler, etc.) are on the toilet seat. Ken looks down at  Barry.)
 Ken:
Well, well, well, a  royal flush!
 Barry:
You're bluffing.
 Ken:
Am I?
 Barry:
Surf's up, dude!
 Ken:
Poo water!
 Barry:
That bowl is gnarly.
 Ken:
Except for those  dirty yellow rings!
 Vanessa:
Kenneth! What are  you doing?!
 Ken:
You know what, I  don't even like honey! I don't eat it!
 Vanessa:
We need to talk! He's  just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long  time!
 Ken:
Long time? What are  you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life?
 Vanessa:
No, but there are  other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them!
 Ken:
Fine! Talking bees,  no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding
on this emotional  roller coaster!
 Vanessa:
Goodbye, Ken.
 Ken:
Augh!
 Vanessa:
Whew. (Ken exits, then re-enters frame)
 Ken:
And for your  information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man!
 Vanessa:
I'm sorry about all  that.
 Ken:
(re-enters again)
 Ken:
I know it's got an  aftertaste! I like it!
 Barry:
I always felt there  was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh,  well.
 Vanessa:
Are you going to be  okay for the trial tomorrow?
 Barry:
Oh, I believe Mr.  Montgomery is about out of ideas.
 Layton:
We would like to  call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand.
 Adam:
Now that's a good  idea. You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers...
 Barry:
Yeah.
 Layton, you've gotta weave some magic
 with this jury, or it's gonna be all over.
 Layton:
Oh don't worry Mr.  Gammil. The only thing I have
to do to turn this  jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees.
 - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic?
 Only to losing, son. Only to losing.
 Layton:
Mr. Benson Bee, I'll  ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship  to that woman?
 Barry:
We're friends.
 Layton:
Good friends?
 Barry:
Yes.
 Layton:
How good?
 Barry:
What.
 Layton:
Do you live  together?
 Barry:
Wait a minute this  isn’t about...
 Layton:
Are you her  little...bedbug?
 Barry:
Hey, that’s not the  kind of?
 I've seen a bee documentary or two. Now from what I understand,
 doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children in the hive?
 Barry:
Yeah, but...
 Layton:
So those aren't even  your real parents!
 Dad:
Oh, Barry...
 Barry:
Yes, they are!
 Adam:
Hold me back!
 Layton:
You're an  illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson?
 Adam:
He's denouncing  bees!
 Layton:
And don't y'all date  your cousins?
 Vanessa:
Objection!
 Adam:
I'm going to  pincushion this guy!
 Barry:
Adam, don't! It's  what he wants!
 Layton:
Oh, I'm hit!! Oh,  lordy, I am hit!
 Judge:
Order! Order!  Please!
 Layton:
The venom! The venom  is coursing through my veins!
 Judge:
Mr. Montgomery!
 Layton:
I have been felled  by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals!  They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way!
 Barry:
Adam, stay with me.
 Adam:
I can't feel my  legs.
 Bailiff
Take it easy.
 Layton:
Oh! What angel of  mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks?
 Judge:
Please I will have  order in this court. Order! Order, please!
 The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn
- against the bees yesterday when one of their
- Thank you!
legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. Now here’s Don with the 5-day.
- Hey, buddy.
- Hey.
- Is there much pain?
- Yeah.
 I...
 I blew the whole case, didn't I?
 It doesn't matter. The important thing is you're alive. You could have died.
 I'd be better off dead. Look at me.
 They got it from the cafeteria they got it from downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.
 Look, there's a little celery still on it.
 What was that like to sting someone?
 I can't explain it. It was all...
 All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy!
 All right.
 You think that was all a trap?
 Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this.
 What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world.
 What do you think the humans will do to us if they win?
 I don't know.
 I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad.
 Adam, they check in, but they don't check out!
 Oh, my.
 Say, could you get a nurse to close that window?
 - Why? - The smoke.
 Bees don't smoke.
 Right. Bees don't smoke.
 Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking.
 Adam that's it! That's our case!
 It is? It's not over?
 No, Get up, Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere.
 You get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can.
 And assuming you've done step 29 correctly, you're ready for the tub.
 Mr. Flayman.
 Yes? Yes, Your Honor!
 Where is the rest of your team?
 Well, Your Honor, it's interesting.
 You know Bees are trained to fly kind of haphazardly,
 and as a result, quite often we don't make very good time.
 I actually once heard a pretty funny story about a bee...
 Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs
 taken up enough of this court's valuable time?
 How much longer are we going allow these absurd shenanigans to go on?
 They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges
 against my clients, who have all run perfectly legitimate businesses.
 I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case!
 Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going
 to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion.
 But you can't! We have a terrific case.
 Where is your proof? Where is the evidence?
 Show me the smoking gun!
 Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun?
 Here is your smoking gun.
 What is that?
 It's a bee smoker!
 What, this? This harmless little contraption?
 This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee.
 Barry:
Members of the jury,  look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or  non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to  these smoke machines in man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives  as honey slaves to the white man?
 - What are we going to do? - He's playing the species card.
 Barry:
Ladies and  gentlemen, please, free these bees!
 Free the bees! Free the bees!
 Free the bees!
 Free the bees! Free the bees!
 The court finds in favor of the bees!
 Barry:
Vanessa, we won!
 Vanessa:
Yay! I knew you  could do it! High-five! Sorry.
 Barry:
I'm OK! Vanessa, do  you know what this means?
 All the honey is finally going to belong to the bees.
 Now we won't have to work so hard all the time.
 This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson.
 You'll regret this.
 Barry, how much honey do you think is out there?
 All right. Alll right. One at a time.
 Barry, who are you wearing?
 My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants.
 - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean?
 We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years.
 Oongratulations on your victory. What are you demand as a settlement?
 First, we're going demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps.
 Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with,
 every last drop.
 We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more
 than a filthy, smelly, big-headed bad-breath stink machine.
 I believe We're all aware of what they do in the woods.
 Wait for my signal.
 Take him out.
 He'll have nausea for a few hours, then he'll be fine.
 And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames...
 But it's just a prance-about stage name!
 ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products
 and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments.
 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 down honey production!
 Mission abort.
 Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base.
 Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there.
 Oh, yeah?
 What's going on around here? Where is everybody?
 - Are they out celebrating? - No, they’re just home.
 They don't know what to do. They're laying out, they're sleeping in.
 I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket.
 At least we got our honey back.
 Yeah, but sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't?
 It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it.
 This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well.
 And now...
 And now I can't.
 I don't understand why they're not happy.
 We have so much now.
 I thought their lives would be better!
 They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people.
 You don't have any idea what's going on, do you?
 - What did you want to show me? - This.
 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 who's fault do you think that is?
 You know, I'm going to guess bees.
 Bees?
 Specifically, me.
 I guess I didn't think that bees not needing to make honey would affect all these others things.
 And it's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.
 Well, that's our whole SAT test right there.
 So you take away the produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom.
 And then, of course...
 The human species?
 So if there's no more pollination,
 it could all just go south here, couldn't it?
 And I know this is also partly my fault.
 Barry:
How about a suicide  pact?
 Vanessa:
How would we do it?
 Barry:
I'll sting you, you  step on me.
 Vanessa:
That just kills you  twice.
 Barry:
Right, right.
 Listen, Barry... sorry, but I got to get going.
 I had to open my mouth and talk.
 Vanessa?
 Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going?
 To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena.
 They've moved it up to this weekend because all the flowers are dying.
 It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it.
 Vanessa, I just want to say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this.
 I know. Me neither.
 Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports.
 Wait a minute. Roses. Roses?
 Roses!
 Vanessa!
 Roses?!
 Barry?
 - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are.
 Flowers, bees, pollen!
 I know. That's why this is the last parade.
 Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down?
 Oould you slow down?
 Barry!
 OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, and it's all my fault.
Yes, it kind of is.
 I've ruined the planet. and I wanted to help you
 with the flower shop. Intead, I've made it worse.
 Actually, it's completely closed down.
 I thought maybe you were remodeling.
 Nonetheless I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous great ideas combined.
 I don't want to hear it!
 All right, here’s what I’m thinking they have the roses, the roses have the pollen.
 I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park.
 All we got do is get what they've got back here with what we've got.
 Vanessa:
Bees.
 Barry:
Park.
 Vanessa:
Pollen!
 Barry:
Flowers.
 Vanessa:
Repollination!
 Barry:
Across the nation!
 Barry:
Alright Tournament of  Roses, Pasadena, California. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and  cotton candy. Security will be tight.
   I have an idea.
 Vanessa Bloome, FTD.
 Official floral business. It's real.
Sorry, ma'am. That a's nice brooch by the way.
 Thank you. It was a gift.
 Then once we're inside, we just pick the right float.
 How about The Princess and the Pea?
 Yeah!
 I could be the princess, and
 ...yes, I think
 You could be
 I’ve-
 The pea!
 Yes, I got it.
 - Sorry I'm late Where should I sit? - What are you?
 - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea?
 It’s supposed to be under the mattresses.
 - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I’m going to go talk to the marshall.
 You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco!
 Let's see what this baby will do.
 Hey, what are you doing?!
 Then all we do is blend in with traffic...
 ...without arousing suspicion.
 And once we’re at the airport there's no stopping us.
 Stop! Security.
 - Did you and your insect pack your own float? - Yes.
 Has this float been in your possession the entire time?
 Would you remove your shoes and everything in your pockets??
 - Can you remove your stinger. Sir? - That's part of me.
 I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight.
 Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job.
 Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job!
 I think this is going to work Vanessa.
 It's got to work.
 Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott.
 I'm afraid we have a bit of bad weather in the New York area.
 And looks like we're going to be experience a couple of hours delay.
 Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it.
 I've got to get up there and talk to these guys.
 Be careful.
 Hey, can I get some help with this Sky Mall magazine?
 I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer.
 Excuse me, Captain, I'm in a real situation here.
 - What did you say, Hal? - I didn’t say anything
 Bee!
 No, no! Don't freak out! There's a chance my entire species...
 What are you doing? Stop!
 - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney?
 Don't move.
 Oh, Barry.
 Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain speaking.
 Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit?
 And please hurry!
 What happened here?
 I tried to talk to them, but then there was a Dustbuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded
 Now one's bald, one's in a boat, and  they're both unconscious!
 - Is that another bee joke? - No!
 No one's flying the plane!
 This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status?
 This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York.
 Where's the pilot?
 He's unconscious, and so is the copilot.
 Not good. Is there anyone onboard who has flight experience?
 As a matter of fact, there is.
 - Who's that? - Barry Benson.
 From the honey trial?! Oh, great.
 Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee.
 It's got giant wings, huge engines.
 I can't fly a plane.
 - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes.
 How hard could it be?
 Wait a minute, Barry! We're headed into some lightning.
 This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport,
 where a very suspenseful scene is developing.
 Barry Benson, fresh off his stunning legal victory...
 That's Barry!
 ...is now attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers
 and an incapacitated flight crew.
 Flowers?!
 Well, we have an electrical storm in the area, and two individuals at the controls of a jumbo jet
 with absolutely no flight experience.
 Just a minute Mr Ditchwater. There's a honey bee on that plane.
 I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson's work and his no-account compadres.
 Haven't they done enough damage already.
 But isn't he your only hope right now?
 Come on, technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all.
 The wings are too small their bodies are too big...
 Hey, hold on a second. Haven't we heard this a million times?
 "The surface area of the wings and body mass doesn't make sense."
 - Get this on the air! - You got it.
 - Stand by. - We're going live.
 Mr Ditchwater, the way we work may be a mystery to you.
 Because making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs.
 But let me tell you something about a small job.
 If you do it really well, it makes a big difference.
 More than we realized. To us, to everyone.
 That's why I want to get bees back to doing what we do best working together.
 That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O.
 We get behind a fellow.
 - Black and yellow! - Hello!
 Left, right, down, hover.
 - Hover? - Forget hover.
 You know what, This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep!
 Barry, what happened?!
 Wait a minute, I think we were on autopilot that whole time.
 - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not!
 Well, then it turns out I cannot fly a plane. 
 All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out!
 Move out!
 Our only chance is if I do what I would do, and you copy me with the wings of the plane!
 You don't have to yell.
 I'm not yelling! We happen to be in a lot of trouble here.
 It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice!
 It's not a tone. I'm panicking!
 I don’t think I can do this!
 Vanessa, pull yourself together. Listen to me You have got to snap out of it!
 You snap out of it.
 You snap out of it.
 - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!
 - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!
 - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it!
You snap
 - Hold it! - Why? Come on, it's my turn.
 How is the plane flying?
 I don't know.
 Hello?
 Hey Benson, have you got any flowers for a happy occasion in there?
 The Pollen Jocks!
 They do get behind a fellow.
 - Black and yellow. - Hello.
 Alright you two, what do you say we drop this tin can on the blacktop? 
 What blacktop? Where? I can't see anything. Oan you?
 No, nothing. It's all cloudy.
 Adam:
Come on. You got to  think bee, Barry.
 - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee.
 Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
 Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something.
 - What? - I don't know. But it's strong, and it's pulling me.
 Like a 27-million-year-old instinct.
 Bring the nose of the plane down.
 Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
 - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that!
 Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
 - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK.
 Out the engines.
Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys?
Affirmative!
 Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it.
 Land on that flower!
 Ready boys? Give me full reverse!
 Spin it around!
 - Not that flower! The other flower! - Which flower?
 - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower!
 That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant black and yellow flower pulsating
 made of millions of bees!
 Pull forward. Nose down. Bring your tail up.
 Rotate around it.
 - This is insane, Barry! - This is the only way I know how to fly.
 Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern?
 Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid of it. Smell it. Full reverse!
 Easy just drop it. Be a part of it.
 Aim for the center!
 Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman!
 Come on, already.
 Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly!
 - Yes. No high-five! - Right.
 Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower?
 What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius man! Genius!
 - Thank you. - But we're not done yet.
 Barry:
Listen, everyone!  This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available  anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones  who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're going to  survive as a species, this is our moment! So, what do you say? Are we going  to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains?
 Bees:
We're bees!
 Male bee:
Keychain!
 Barry:
Then everyone,  follow me! Except Keychain.
 Pollen Jock:
Hold on, Barry.  Here. You've earned this. (places a pollen jock jacket on Barry and the 3  pollen jocks cheer while Vanessa gives him a thumbs up)
 Vanessa:
Yay!
 Barry:
I'm a Pollen Jock!  And it's a perfect fit. All I got to do are the sleeves.
  (The pollen jocks  toss Barry a nectar pack)
 Barry:
Oh, yeah.
 Mom:
(proudly) That's our  Barry! (Martin nods proudly in agreement)
 Mom! The bees are back!
 If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time.
 I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight!
 Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Yes, can I help who's next?
 Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these.
 Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel!
 Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat!
 I had no idea.
 Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment?
 Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate here will be able to help you.
 Sorry I'm late.
 He's a lawyer too?
 I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase.
 Have a great afternoon!
 Barry, I just got this huge tulip order for a wedding, and I can't get them anywhere.
 No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me.
 You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? Who's next?
Barry:
All right, scramble,  jocks! It's time to fly.
 Vanessa:
Thank you, Barry!
 Ken:
(Sees a sign that  says "Vanessa and Barry: Flowers, Honey, Legal Advice" and becomes  disgusted)
 Ken:
Ugh! That bee is  living my life!
 Andy:
(guiding Ken  protectively) Let it go, Kenny.
 Ken:
When will this  nightmare end?!
 Andy:
Let it all go.
 Barry:
Beautiful day to  fly.
 Pollen Jock:
Sure is.
 Barry:
Between you and me,  I was dying to get out of that office.
 Adam:
You have got to  start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee!
 Barry:
Me?
 Adam:
Thinking bee,  thinking bee! Get smart and start thinking bee!
 Barry:
Gee!
 Adam:
Flying here and  buzzin' there.
 Barry:
I'm lovin' the  views.
 Adam:
Listen to me cousin,  every buzzer must use to be a bee!
 Barry:
Or not to be.
 Adam:
Start thinking bee!
 Adam:
Barry, you got no  occupation.
 Barry:
What, you mean like  pollination?
 Adam:
Hey now! That's  thinking bee!
 Barry:
Start thinking bee!
 Adam:
Listen to me fella,  ain't you been on a tour? Can't cha' stripes of Black and yella.
 Barry:
I just want to be  sure!
 Adam:
To be a bee!
 Barry:
Start thinking bee!  Can't I wait and see?
 Adam:
No, Barry that's not  to be! Be a busy little bee not a tizzy little bee!
 Barry:
Alright, hold it,  hold it, hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. (Adam: What it's  like to be a thinking!)
 Barry:
I'm sorry.
 Adam:
What?
 Barry:
I'm sorry, everyone.  Can we stop here?
 Adam:
Oh, Barry.
 Barry:
I'm not making a  major life decision in the middle of a huge musical production number!
 Adam:
Alright, alright.
 Barry:
Take ten, everybody.  Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.
29 notes · View notes
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I would call this cute little 1981 houseboat a bargain- It’s for sale for $24,900 and moored in Guntesrville, Alabama but it doesn’t matter, b/c you can take it wherever you want to. 
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How sweet is this little red gingham sitting area? This, as well as the dining table, convert to beds. There is also plenty of sleeping area under the main floor.
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As the captain is driving the boat, family & friends can sit with him/her.
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Down the stairs is this surprisingly full kitchen- it has good counterspace, storage, a full stove, fridge, and double sinks. Plenty storage, too. 
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Awesome dining seating.
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For a small boat, it has big features, like a full-size shower.
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The size of the bathroom vanity is impressive. Nice big mirror, too. 
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Up here is another captain’s area so he/she can enjoy the upper outside deck w/friends.
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There are 3 outside decks to enjoy fun in the sun. This is a compact little party boat.
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Technical stuff: Both of it’s engines were professionally replaced in 2018 and have only 1200 hours. 
https://oldhousesunder50k.com/c-1981-gibson-36-houseboat-for-sale-in-guntherville-al-under-25k/
49 notes · View notes
crimefighter-bae-b · 13 days ago
Text
In keeping with posting writing I likely won’t finish I wanted to put my Samuels/Amanda stuff here. Hopefully someone will get something from it.
Fanfic under the cut
Amanda is next to the window, twenty stories above the street below. She’s managed to open it, barely a sliver, but enough to smell the tumble of spring and pull it deeply into lungs that have spent years breathing in the recycled air of deep space architecture. The cool wind through her nose sends a beautiful tremble to her core. She’s felt like a taped-up box stored in a still attic for far too long.
She thinks she can smell the garden across the Seine. The Tuileries Garden, she was told. Her French has never been great, but the ward she’s in has multilingual signage, so if it’s an issue it hasn’t fully presented itself yet. She’s been reading language books. If she’s learned anything from them it’s hard to measure. Her eyes have a tendency to slip off the page, lately.
She doubts she’ll be leaving anytime soon anyway.
Amanda drops her head against the cool glass, rubs her hand through what’s left of her hair. There’s a small patch that burned off and isn’t likely to grow back. She rubs absently there then drops her hand when the door behind her hisses open.
Dr. P. L. Benoist wears oxfords with hard soles, ones that click when he walks, so she knows it’s him when he enters. The sound also triggers something in her memory and it takes a lot out of her. She doesn’t feel the need to run- she knows where she is. It’s the mental work that’s exhausting; the endless loops of a brain working overtime to solve a problem that’s already been solved.
‘Bon matin, Amanda,’ he says, then sighs somewhat dramatically for the time of day. ‘That’s not exactly safe, you know.’
She shrugs, but obliges him by turning away from the window and stepping off the chair. She takes the seat.
‘Got a cigarette?’
Benoist fishes a pack out of his white coat and looks at her over the tops of his glasses. He knocks the pack once then twice, there’s a quick exchange, and he lights both of their cigarettes and sits at the table.
The room doesn’t have much in it, really. It’s the same off-white as every other medical bay in the known galaxy. There’s a gurney bed, a metal table bolted to the floor, two chairs, and a few cupboards for personal items.
Amanda doesn’t have many personal items- the key around her neck and a picture she had cut out of an old magazine. Everything she had packed with her on the Torrens was gone and everything else, her box or two of clothing and meager belongings, were all packed away on Thedus in a storage locker being paid for out of her slowly dwindling account.
She wonders what has brought Dr. Benoist here this morning, but she holds back from asking. He’ll say it eventually. She watches the boats bobbing on the river, varied and coloured, old and new. The river is lined by trees bursting with cherry blossoms, violently pink against the back of her eyes.
‘Surgery tomorrow,’ he says after a long pull on his smoke. ‘You feel okay about it?’
‘Yeah.’
She knows she says it a little too quick and harsh, but Benoist doesn’t seem to mind.
‘Two things today. You have a review, later this morning.’
‘Big day.’
‘Don’t get your hopes too high.’
She taps her cigarette into the ash tray, a wide, fat bowl inset into the middle of the table. She supposes they just expect people to form the habit here. She certainly did.
‘You need more time.’
‘Yeah. What’s the second thing?’
‘A visitor.’
‘Sullivan?’
‘No. An exec from the company,’ he says. Amanda’s jaw tightens.
‘You want to see him?’
‘Sure,’ she says, after a moment then takes another drag off her cigarette.
One of the boats is canopied with glass and the sunlight off the top of it burns bright in a way that Amanda remembers used to make her feel something. It’s not always like this now, but it is like this.
‘Let the fucker come.’
The shower cubicles are very small and sometimes Amanda feels like she can’t breath when she’s in them, but if Peggy is there it’s fine.
Peggy is bright and loud which makes standing alone in the eerie silence far more bearable- the woman never stops talking. She hums and sings, talks to herself and laughs. Her voice is a welcoming anchor that Amanda has never properly thanked her for.
Not that Peggy is aware that she helps, Amanda isn’t sure Peggy is aware of very much of what’s going on, but she’s sweet in her own way.
But Amanda is aware that Peggy is a crutch. That at some point she is going to have to be able to stand in a shower cubicle alone in silence.
As it is, Amanda leans into it. The water drips over her upturned face, winds across her chest and she feels the creeping, constant cold abate.
 ...
They never hold reviews in a patient’s room. Amanda wonders if it’s on purpose, if the whole process is meant to make you feel cold and underdressed, like you’re the wrong shape in a space you haven’t measured.
The room is the same white as her own room. It’s a government funded facility and it shows. There’s flaking paint from the windowsill that looks out onto the hallway. The floor probably hasn’t been replaced in thirty five years and it’s obvious that whatever this room used to be for, no one ever expected to have a desk and a computer in it let alone two people at the same time.
But it’s free, she reminds herself. No company attached to it, no strings. No bill. She’s lucky she ended up here and not in jail.
Dr. Benoist isn’t present, which is a shame because she likes him, and instead it’s Dr. Keller which is a shame because she doesn’t like him much at all. He’s tapping loudly on a computer, turned to the side, making noises with his tongue against his teeth. He hasn’t said an actual word to her yet, hasn’t even looked at her.
He knows she isn’t French. He isn’t French, but he starts his conversation as if he’s forgotten his native tongue, smiles, laughs as if this was a mistake, and switches to English for her sake.
His teeth are blinding. His hair is flawless.
No. She doesn’t like him much at all.
‘So, let’s start from the top. How have you been sleeping?’
‘Fine.’
‘Dr. Benoist says you’re still not sleeping in your bed.’
‘I do. Some nights.’
‘Mm,’ he mutters, and writes something on the notepad next to him.
‘He says you were in the bottom cupboard two nights ago?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And how was that? Sleeping in there?’
‘Fine.’
‘…Right.’
‘Hello, Ripley.’
For a moment she can’t make any sense of him. Not his eyes, nor his nose. Not even the lines beside it or the way he’s teetering politely in her doorway. These pieces and ways of him are things she thought were blown apart by fire and the groaning, final gasp of Sevastopol station. Yet he is here now, come back together like a flotilla of dandelion seeds brought home.
‘I don’t know if you remember me. We met in the, uh, Epsilon Reticuli sector.’
‘Samuels?’ She doesn’t mean to sound so distraught. She doesn’t know what she meant to sound like.
He pauses, hesitant maybe. She can’t keep her eyes from tracing over his neat hair or the slope of his shoulders. The green, insulated flight jacket from their trip on the Torrens has been replaced by a grey suit and a neck tie looped around a starched, white shirt. The difference brings an odd pang of sorrow that makes little sense.
‘Yes,’ he says, ‘from the company.’
Ripley staggers towards him, stretches out her fingers, and presses a hand against him. She watches the chest beneath it in fascination.
‘You’re alive.’
‘As much as I can be considered such, yes.’
His answer vibrates through her hand. She can feel something whirring, the slightest swish of fluid under synthetic skin.
Amanda feels an overwhelming sentimentality, so strong she has to stop herself from smoothing out his hair.
‘Where have you been?’ she asks eventually around the pain at the back of her throat. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘I’m alright, Ripley. And you?’ He asks. His warm, amber eyes are wide.
Her face crumples and she reaches her arms around him. She hadn’t cried since she had come back from Sevastopol. The intensity of it drags an ache through her lungs.
She sags against him, a powerful exhaustion overcoming her. His hands take her arms and she hears him say something, but it’s lost to the sudden rushing in her ears and the numbness in her legs. She has a vague awareness of being lifted.
And then there is a space of time where nothing happens. It’s dark and if there are thoughts they are little more than colours and lights and an internal voice, her own mind, rambling nonsense against a backdrop of black.
When she opens her eyes she is lying on her bed one of the nurses is hovering over her.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Terrible.’
‘Sounds about right.’
‘Where’s Samuels?’
‘He’s waiting in the hall, but we can send him away if you want.’
‘No. I want to see him.’
‘If you’re sure. Just don’t overwork yourself.’
The nurse leaves and Ripley can hear soft conversation just beyond the door. Samuels appears again and approaches the bed cautiously, though she is relieved when he takes the seat without asking.
‘I’m sorry, if I had known that seeing me would cause you so much distress I wouldn’t have come.’
For a moment Amanda feels as though she has just looked into another life, a timeline where Samuels exists somewhere in the universe and where she will never know it. Their lives, like two touching paths amongst the stars, bound to wind apart and never touch again. Incomprehensible, startling in its mundanity and it feels as if it was only just avoided. She reaches out, takes his hand.
‘Don’t say that.’
‘My apologies.’
‘Don’t say that either.’
She frowns at her own words. She wants to apologize to him, but she doesn’t know how. She’s never been good at expressing those kinds of things. So she squeezes his fingers in reassurance.
He looks at her hand folded over his own as if it’s a dilemma.
‘Why did you do it?’
Samuels’s attention flicks from their hands to her and the look of mild confusion (mouth slightly open, intense) twitches into something more professional.
‘It’s routine to follow up with contacts after-’
‘No, I mean why did you do that for me? Back there on the station. Risk yourself like that to help me. I know what you said in the reformat chamber, but I’ve thought about it. God, I can’t stop thinking about it. You barely know me. I told you not to.’
‘Ripley,’ he says her name with tactful regret and gently extricates his hand from hers. The gesture abruptly leaves her cold.
‘I must warn you-‘ and here he glances down before meeting her eyes, ‘upon recovering what was left of me the company found that the damage sustained by my internal hard drive warranted a full reformat. As it stands, I don’t have any recollection of you, or of what happened on Sevastopol.’
It is quiet for what must be only a second or two, but the calamity of it skews it somehow. The beautiful connection she imagined between them turns into a monstrous chasm, somehow more debilitating than his actual death. As it is, he sits only a foot away from her and he’s never felt more impossibly lost to her.
He doesn’t seem to know what to do with her silence other than fill it.
‘I understand people often find this sort of thing distressing. I assure you, I am functioning completely within acceptable para-‘
‘How could they do this to you?’
She reaches up and touches his face, holds it up in both of her palms. He’s got that look again. Surprised. Certainly caught off guard.
‘It’s… a simple procedure.’
Amanda closes her eyes, feels her face crumple with grief and a startling fury.
The company did this to him. It was sensible to accept that his memory had been corrupted due to his uplink to APOLLO. It was a reformat chamber after all; one that had never been built with Weyland Yutani tech in mind, and one that he had to jury-rig to accept him at all.
And in what state he would have been in when they found him, she had no idea. The station had torn itself apart. His body, his components, him- all of it would have blown apart with it. Maybe it really was gone like that.
However, she feels a cold certainty that his memory, in shape or otherwise, would have been removed.
He is a victim too, like everyone on Sevastopol, like her.
Like her mother.
She hisses the next words through her teeth.
‘You don’t remember anything?’
‘No.’
Her hands drop.
‘You were connected to my previous assignment and when I read the final report I chose to follow up with you.’
A silence drags between them.
‘Why?’
‘I suppose I was… troubled,’ he explains. ‘To learn of what happened. It was my fault of course that you had been dragged along to collect the Nostromo flight recorder.’ When she looks hopeful he is quick to continue, ‘I read the notes I made on the case, it seems that at the time, I had wanted to help you find some kind of closure. Did you?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I did, sort of.’ She says gently. ‘Thanks to you. Because of you. I never got to say thank you.’
‘I believe you just did. You’re welcome.’
A delicate silence runs between them again.
‘What do you want now?’
‘I suppose I’m looking for something similar for myself.’
‘Closure?’
He gives a short, sharp nod.
‘I am curious to know if my bringing you on the mission is what led to the destruction of the Anesidora and Sevastopol station.’
‘What?’
‘There’s very little public information and everything at Weyland-Yutani is either classified or puts you as the party directly responsible for what occurred.’
‘Yeah, those fuckers would point the finger at me. Of course they would.’
‘You never made a final report. Verlaine and Conner have been helpful, but their testimony doesn’t cover what actually happened onboard the station. There is a great deal of speculation-’
‘And you believe it?’
‘I’m not capable of belief; I simply have no evidence one way or the other.’
‘I hate it when you do that.’
‘What?’
‘When you talk like you’re not a person.’
‘I’m not a person.’
‘Don’t be stupid.’
When she doesn’t seem inclined to fill the silence he urges her.
‘Please, Ripley. You are the only one left who knows what happened on Sevastopol.’
‘What, you here to collect a fucking report?’
‘No. As I said, I came here of my own volition. I wasn’t asked to come.’
Her face is stricken.
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair.’
‘It’s a fair question.’
That he couldn’t remember wasn’t his fault. He came on his own to find some kind of answer, and how could she ever deny someone their closure? Especially him. Especially after everything.
‘Not when it’s you.’ She pauses and rubs the back of her neck.
There is a place in Amanda that is vulnerable, quivering like an exposed nerve that is both deep and painful, and angry most of the time. She has considered the idea of dredging this thing, this sick ball, upwards with her bare hands more than once. She has imagined the satisfaction and painful ecstasy of tearing it out of herself, forcing it to an agonizing peak before the thread of raw flesh tethering it to her insides snaps and floods her with relief.
But when that fantasy fades and the night comes she thinks there is a different truth: that sometimes there are pains so heavy they rest deeper than even the calcium of bones, and there is no magic in the universe to unmake yourself and carry on whole.
She picks at a rough seam on her cotton sheet.
‘I haven’t been able to talk about it,’ she grimaces, ‘It’s been almost two years, granted a good chunk of that was spent in cryo, but still. They ask me about it sometimes, mostly they give me space. Verlaine came by to see how I was doing.’
‘I sent Captain Verlaine a letter this morning. Her response was very positive. She seems kind.’
‘She is. She likes you. She likes me.’
‘You find that surprising?’
Amanda shrugs.
‘Anyway, I guess I just feel like what’s the fucking point? When it’s all just going to end badly anyway.’
‘Failure is never a certainty, and perhaps it’s not the result that matters. Maybe it’s just important that we try at all.’
His statement feels so naïve. Both blunt and childish given Sevastopol. Maybe hope worked for other people. Competent people, capable people. People who would have found the right way to help everyone instead of all of her wrong ways. People like him.
She looks at him again and she wonders how the company could scrub every part of his mind and still somehow manage to miss this simple goodness that he can’t seem to shake, and she pokes over her own deficiencies; sad and angry, a selfish little girl who was never good and never kind and didn’t deserve-
She swallows hard.
‘I knew you were a good man.’
‘I’m neither.’
‘Yeah, okay.’
She rubs her palms on her thighs then over her face.
‘You haven’t been sleeping.’
‘You have a chat with Dr. Keller?’
‘Yes. He said you have nightmares.’  
‘Not all of us can just reformat.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. Do you really want to know?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay... I have surgery tomorrow. Come see me after. I’ll be a bit laid out, but you can ask me anything,’ she says and he looks startled. ‘I can’t promise I can answer everything. Not right away. It’s a lot, but I can start somewhere easy. Build up from there. You deserve to know what happened and if it’s you asking, I’ll try harder.’
‘You shouldn’t push yourself for my sake. I don’t have the right.’
‘Yes you do.’
‘Why?’
There are a million things she wants to say. Things like because I trust you and because you saved my life.
Because you’re my friend.
Instead she says:
‘You just do, okay.’
She hopes it’s enough for him to understand.
...
The trip back to London is short and uneventful. The train Samuels takes is crammed with commuters, so he stands and idly watches as the girl sitting to his left feeds the small, excitable poodle in her bag.
The cobblestones under his feet are anachronistic after stepping off the thick rubber flooring of the Lemniscate. In an instant Samuels is part of the foot traffic of a million lives twined and teamed in a city built over two thousand years ago. Some boisterous crowds gather in the streets after a football match, eyes bright with cheer, Arsenal colours abound.
Due to his reformat it is difficult to say if he has ever been so off-kilter since his activation, but it’s hard to imagine.
He had been operating for a month, and in that time he had only been touched in the most professional of ways, regarded in the way that one might regard a photocopier, or look at a light switch before it is flicked. The way Ripley interacted with him was something entirely different, every expression saturated with meaning. The only way he could describe it would be to say that she looked at him as if he were precious, in more than just a material sense.
And he wonders at the feeling of inadequacy that came with disappointing her.
What did he do to earn such a look from her? He asks this despite how his system warns him that she attributes to him more than he is warranted. He was, and is, only the sum of his parts.
He recalls it vividly: she was holding his face and her eyes were closed. He’d abruptly remembered the painful look of her neck, the fingertip sized blooms of red and purple bursting against her skin like the stark spring flush of anemone flowers.
The memory was accompanied by the maddening sense that he should have done something about it. Specifically, that he should have done something to prevent it.
And then from somewhere else, somewhere deeper, there was a question: what does it mean to be vital, to be fragile, to be both those things at once? And does it mean anything at all?
In that still moment, looking over her grief-stricken face with his own held dearly in her cool palms, he realized he didn’t know who had asked the question, and there wasn’t a ready answer waiting.
He had thought the flash of what seemed like memory might have been a brief miscommunication between his CPU and heuristic logic driver. He had immediately scanned both for errors and found none. And then another possibility flagged itself:
]              *RESULT_CODE*= ERRANT_DATA_ ERROR
It happens sometimes, after a reformat, when the original data scribes just a little too deeply on the face of the Non-Volatile Memory.
A momentary instance of a data scribe encoding in excess of the plus or minus point zero two micron tolerances is nothing special; it occurs in thirty-seven percent of reformats. The error is so small, so inconsequential, he reasons, that it’s not really worth reporting.
Not worth telling her about. She was searching for another individual to commiserate with, and it would be beyond cruel to give her false hope. What was left of his memories were incomplete pieces, void of context. Not enough to truly connect, nor did she require a synthetic for that purpose. A human would have been ideal, had any others made it off the station.
Samuels smartly taps the chunky keys of his WY data link terminal, putting the final superfluities on his report before signing off. The computer whirls down with a low thrum and a syncopated beep, loud in the small, square office.
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simfleetco-cm · a month ago
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SeaBreezer Mini
SeaBreezer Mini by Simfleet
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Have you been searching for that perfect vacation place to go relax and disconnect from the world? As always – Simfleet has got your back! Today, we’re taking a trip to Sulani… to the desolate islet of Key Point on the island chain of Mua Pel’am. Completely off-the-grid and surrounded by the crystal clear Sulani seas, the SeaBreezer Mini by Simfleet may look a little weathered and run-down from enduring Sulani’s harsh tropical storms… but don’t be fooled – this little teardrop camper is sure to keep you safe, comfortable, and entertained during your stay in the islands. The SeaBreezer Mini can comfortably sleep 2 in the double-bunk bedroom, and features a small living area with a small TV and books just outside the lightweight sliding bedroom door made of genuine island lumber. Adjacent to the living area is the full eat-in kitchenette with an island counter and stools, an off-grid compatible cooker, and low-power-consumption mini fridge. Continuing on towards the rear of the camper is the spacious bathroom equipped with off-grid plumbing facilities, and a small storage area behind the lightweight slatted wall. None of the indoor or outdoor lighting consumes power and is completely off-grid friendly. The interior is sure to serve you well, but the exterior of the SeaBreezer Mini is where the magic is at. The weathered tin roof is equipped with a single wind turbine and one solar panel, which is sure to keep your power output at a surplus. To the side of the camper is a small dew collector, although you’ll be free to collect fresh seawater at your leisure. The rear bumper is equipped with a bicycle rack and included bike, and features rear reflectors in place of traditional tail/brake lights to remain true to its off-grid nature. The lot itself is full of beautiful island greenery and has a small shaded sitting area just outside the camper steps, a waterfront fire pit with seating for 3, and there’s another small boat trailer on the lot which holds an aqua-zip, extra bicycle, and cooler. Planning an island party, but worried about space? No problem! This beachfront rental camper is just footsteps away from the beautiful and spacious boardwalk. The boardwalk features an outdoor grilling area with seating for 4, plenty of areas to lay out and bake in the sun, a game table for 3, and a ladder/docking post with an outrigger canoe that is ready and waiting for an ocean adventure. The SeaBreezer Mini is ready and waiting to entertain you and your guests! Don’t ask us how this weathered little camper came to be on the little islet – we don’t have an answer, other than it may have something to do with the overgrown rusted out truck that sits in front of the camper. It’s pretty to look at, but, I wouldn’t go near it if I were you. Also, be sure to wipe your feet or remove your shoes before you go inside… you wouldn’t want sand to get all over the carpet. E komo mai and enjoy your stay!
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Details
-         Lot: Key Point/Sulani (off-the-grid) -         Lot Size: 40x30 -         Lot Type: Residential (built to be used as a rental lot) -         Value: $510/per day ($45,897) -         Lot Description: Welcome to Sulani - where the air smells like crisp sweet pineapple, and you'll be "swimming" in Kalua Pork! The SeaBreezer Mini by Simfleet is a 2-sim rental camper located on the desolate, off-the-grid islet of Key Point. Situated right across from a growling volcano and rushing waterfall - this little trailer has everything you need for a comfortable and enjoyable stay. Cozy up by the beach fire, go for a boat ride, or enjoy one of several activities on the boardwalk. E komo mai!
Packs Used
Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats & Dogs, City Living, Get Together, Get to Work, Dream Home Decorator, Journey to Batuu, StrangerVille, Jungle Adventure, Parenthood, Dine Out, Outdoor Retreat, Country Kitchen Kit, Paranormal, Tiny Living, Laundry Day, Toddler Stuff, Backyard Stuff, Cool Kitchen, Perfect Patio, Holiday Celebration Landscaping items are mostly debug Boat trailer used is base game debug
PLAYTESTED MOO USED
*CC FREE*
Download Lot → HERE ← Google Drive
*How to Install Lots – both CC included and CC free* - Lot Use & Terms -
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solarwriting · a year ago
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missing in action
john b and sarah are missing and their family is left wondering and hurt
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y/n groaned as she sat up, confused by her surroundings. she heard clicking, jj flicking his lighter. she was at the wreck and her brother was believed to be a fugitive and she didn't know where he was or if he was okay.
"he's definitely been pinched." jj muttered.
"don't." y/n said suddenly, "don't you dare say that."
kiara cut in, "we don't know that. plus we were in that car with him so they're probably looking for us too."
pope walked out of the building, "i'm going to go get gas."
kie followed him out and tried fo talked to him, pope revving the engine of his bike to drown out her talking. he drove away leaving everyone else behind. jj walked over and sat by y/n, "i'm sorry, y/n."
y/n bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears, "w-we don't know," she swallowed, "if they got him. right? he's with sarah a-and we're gonna see him when we get the phantom to him, okay?"
jj stayed silent as he wrapped his arms around her, her head resting on his chest as she silently cried. he rubbed her back and let her cry. y/n sniffled and pulled away from him, "i'm fine. let's get food for him. they need food, right?"
jj cleared his throat, "yeah, they'll need food."
jj, kiara, and y/n grabbed some food, enough to last two people a few weeks. the trio went out to kiara's car, they need to get the keys to the phantom. y/n got in the back seat as kiara and her mom argued.
"i'm sorry miss anna be we got to go." jj said, moving to get into the passenger's seat. kie and her mom continued to argue, her mom telling her how dangerous it was right now.
"i'm sorry, mom. john b needs me!" kie screamed, slamming the car door and driving away. they drove to jj's house where he got the keys to the phantom.
jj jumped back into the car. "how'd it go?" kie asked. jj held up the keys that hung from his fingers. he looked like he was about to cry. y/n sat up from her seat and wrapped her arms around him and the seat from where she sat in the back.
kie pulled up to the the storage space the boat was at, "you coming with?"
y/n shook her head, "i-if you don't need me. i just need to sit for a little bit."
jj and kiara nodded, getting out of the car. they needed to hitch the boat to the car and get it to the dock. jj was going on about how perfect the boat was, "lets just say you wouldn't be smokin' weed if it weren't for this boat."
kie was about to respond when she heard the revving of an engine, "pope, finally!"
rafe and barry walked our from behind the boat. "where's my money?" barry asked, pulling out a gun.
kiara tried to get away but rafe grabbed ahold of her, "i know what you did! you killed sheriff peterkin!" she slapped him and rafe grabbed kie and began choking her.
"don't you ever say those fucking words again!" he shouted.
barry threw jj to the ground, kicking him repeatedly, "where's john b? i want my money!"
y/n heard the comotion and jumped out if the car, "get off of him!" she screamed. she grabbed the nearest object, a pipe and hit barry as hard as she could with it. he groaned and crumpled to the floor, then gun flying out if his hand and allowing jj to get up.
pope had showed up around this time and hit rafe getting kie away from him. she kicked the gun and screamed as pope continued to hit rafe. he grabbed a hose and had it wrapped around his neck, choking him.
"pope, snap out of it! jj yelled.
pope returned to reality, dropping rafe and the hose, "stay off the cut." the four left a bloodied and beaten rafe and an injured barry and headed toward the dock where they were supposed to meet john b.
"where is he?" kie asked.
"he'll be here! just give him a minute." jj said. they all stop when they heard sirens, "get in the boat."
a sheriff's car pulled up and the door opened and john b stepped out, "shoupe let me take it for a spin."
"john b!" y/n shouted, running forward and grabbing onto her brother. john b wrapped his arms around her tightly, he buried his face in her hair before kissing her on the top of the head.
"hey, i'm okay and you're okay. okay?" john b said softly.
y/n nodded before pulling away. the two walked toward the dock and john b stopped before getting into the boat, "where's sarah?"
"she's not with you?"
"n-no, no. we got separated at the swamp. i can't go without her." john b said.
"look at me, i know you feel bad for leaving but there's no time. you have plenty of gas and plenty of food." jj explained. he continued to explain how to get to the dismal swamp and instructed john b to lay low for a few weeks but y/n had spaced out.
she was brought back to reality when she said, "i'll go with him."
"what?" kiara muttered.
"no, y/n. you can't. you need to stay here." john b explained.
"no! i-i'm going with you. i don't want to lose my brother again!" y/n rushed for the boat but john b motioned for jj to grab her and with the help of pope they held her back.
"no! john b! don't leave me here!" she screamed as john b drove, "come back! take me with you!" she continued to scream until her voice cracked and she was choking on tears. she crumpled into jj and pope let her go. she cried into jj, still mutter, "don't leave me here. i need my brother."
cop sirens were soon heard and the four were now surrounded by shoupe, an sbi angent and a bunch of other cops and armed personel. y/n wasn't really sure what had happened, it was all a blur as she was pulled into the back of a cop car and taken to a tent where many cops and agents were.
her ears were ringing as she was taken to sit. she was next to jj and the only thing she knew was that he was there, holding her hand. she was no longer crying but she knew if she tried to speak, her voice would betray her.
after sometime she was pulled out of her seat by a gentle tug from jj, shoupe and a few other cops had just walked in. "did you find them?"
"no." shoupe shook his head.
"so they got away?" kiara asked. a feeling of relieve washed over the four for a moment before they saw the look on shoupe's face.
"we lost them. i'm sorry. they took an open boat into a tropical depression."
"so they're dead." kiara asked.
"we don't know." shoupe said. y/n felt her legs stop working as she crumpled to the ground, sobs shaking her body.
"you drove them straight into the storm!" jj yelled, lunging towards shoupe. y/n stayed on the ground as jj continued to yell and police officers held him back.
y/n stood up on wobbling legs and looked at shoupe, "m-my dad is dead and sheriff peterkin found the person responsible for that and now she's dead. so, to cover his and his son's tracks, ward pinned it on my brother, okay? my brother is gone because you don't know how to do your job!" she then tried to lunge at the sheriff but kiara grabbed and she collapsed once again.
jj grabbed onto y/n and held her as they both cried. y/n couldn't speak, she screamed so much her voice was almost completely gone. kiara ran to her mom and dad and hugged them, crying out apologies. pope did the same with his parents. y/n pushed jj off of her and moved to sit on the chairs by herself.
jj stood there unsure of what to do but then found himself tied into a family embrace with pope and his parents. he and pope cried as they were held and y/n sat there feeling like she had been a cried out.
she looked up at shoupe who was still standing there, "where's ward cameron?"
shoupe looked surprised but before he could say anything y/n spoke again, "j-just let me speak to him. that's all i want to do. okay?"
maybe it was because her brother was most likely dead or that her dad was dead or maybe it was because shoupe had a feeling deep down in his gut that there was more to this than what was in the surface. whatever it was shoupe nodded and lead y/n to another tent where ward sat.
he looked tired, exhausted even, but y/n didn't care. she walked up to him and hit the table, a loud bang alerting ward and any cops or sbi angents of her presence.
"listen," she started, her voice hoarse. "i just wanted to let you know that you may be smart, covering your tracks and all. you know, killng my father, leaving him for dead in the sea, protecting your son by blaming a murder he committed on my brother. but here's the thing, you forgot about one loose end, me. and guess what, you have no more cards to play, no murders to frame me for, so guess what. you. lost."
y/n turned to face the lead sbi agent, "hey, you look inortant. ward cameron killed my father and rafe cameron killed sheriff peterkin." her voice began to trail off as he continued, "h-he's the reason m-my brother's dead."
her legs gave out from under her and she collapsed, wars tried fo catch her but she was quick to object, "don't fucking touch me."
the lead sbi agent was close enough that he was able to catch her and help her to a chair while she cried. jj, pope, kie and their parents soon entered the tent where y/n was crying. jj rushed to her side and replaced the agent and held her as she sobbed.
"come on, y/n. you can stay with me, okay?" kiara said softly, grabbing y/n's hand.
y/n whiped her face as she nodded. "okay," she said, her voice cracking. kiara nodded and wrapped her arm around y/n's shoulder's. kiara's mom was quick to stand on her other side and help walk y/n to her car.
pope's father turned to jj, "come on, son. you're stayin' with us tonight."
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tcmhollnd · a year ago
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The Pogues - Chapter 2 // Making Amends
Pairing: jj maybank x reader
Warnings: swearing, little bit of underage drinking, smoking
Word count: 2.6k
Summary: You were a kook, born and raised but when a messy breakup with your boyfriend takes place you find comfort in the people who you’d been taught to despise and keep away from your entire life, the pogues.
(A/N): sorry this took me so long to post,, i’ve been studying for exams but now i’m finally done sooo I can focus on this fic!! this isn’t the best but I needed to upload something but just know the juicy parts haven’t even begun ;)) also this lacks proofreading so just bare with me lmaoo
series masterlist
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It was the day after Midsummers and you hadn’t stopped thinking about JJ, it was kind of annoying actually, you didn’t want to think about him or let alone any guy at all, but it was hard JJ was the kind of guy to leave an impression, the kind of guy who would be stuck on your mind for the next couple of days, so as you sat in your bed aimlessly flicking through the magazine that rested on your lap, you felt yourself zoning out as you let your thoughts be consumed with him.
“Y/N!” Sarah’s sudden yell broke you from your trance, startling you as you stared wide eyed at her, your face a question mark, she had come over to your place to spend the night, she couldn’t wait to tell you all about her adventures with John B, you had to admit you were pretty jealous, you missed having someone next to you when falling asleep it was an awful lot lonelier than you thought it would be, but you knew it was for the best, maybe you needed to be by yourself for some time now.
“Yeah?” you replied closing the magazine and laying it onto the empty space on the bed beside you “John B asked me to come with him to meet the guys later so I can- I don’t know make up with Kiara or something and since you’re the bestest friend in the whole entire world I was wondering if you’d come with me” you looked up at her puzzled “what” you spoke finding nothing else fitting to say “the girl hates me Y/N, hates me! And you’re really good at getting people to like you plus if they’re going to be my new friends that means they’re gonna be your new friends, where I go you go” she spoke content with her words.
“No” you stated grabbing the magazine again continuing flipping through the pages “no? what do you mean no Y/N please I need you there as my back up incase I don’t know Kiara attacks me” Sarah pouted “won’t John B be there?” you asked raising an eyebrow at her “Yes but I want you there as well” you let your head fall back as you groaned “fine i’ll come with” Sarah squealed in excitement engulfing you in a hug as she mumbled thank you over and over again into your shoulder.
“But-okay look if I tell you something you have to promise that you’ll pretend like you know nothing about it later, okay promise” Sarah asked sitting opposite you and raising one pinky finger in the air “and that you won’t laugh!” she added, you rolled your eyes but sure enough locked your finger with hers “pinky promise” you smiled awaiting Sarah’s response. “Okay they’re looking for the royal merchant gold and I actually think they fucking found it” you took a minute to stare at her wondering if she was joking or not “Sarah people have been looking for that gold for like a hundred years do you really think someone like John B found it?” you chuckled shaking your head “yes I do” she stated firmly, you rolled your eyes before saying “let’s get going”.
Once you and Sarah had taken a seat on John B’s front porch you could practically see the anger fuming off of Kiara at your sudden presence “no effing way!” she scoffed looking over in your direction “you brought them here? so what? they’re in on this now?” John B looked utterly terrified as he looked over at JJ and Pope hoping they would back him up “I dunno” Pope simply shrugged looking over at JJ.
“Look man all I care about is their cut comes out of your share” JJ spoke causing you to scoff  “all of us aren’t rich and spoiled like you princess” JJ declared raising an eyebrow at you “I’m not spoi-” Kiara cut you off “I don’t remember taking a vote, this is our thing, a Pogue thing!” You and Sarah both rolled your eyes in unison glancing over at each other. 
“Look i’m just a tad uncomfortable with all of this” Pope said causing a small chuckle to slip out of your mouth as Kiara mumbled a thank you “when are you not uncomfortable?!” John B argued “well I don’t know I rode here on the back of JJ’s bike quite comfortably”
“It’s true most relaxed i’ve ever seen him” JJ said “maybe this wasn’t the best idea-” you began to say but before you could finish Kiara cut you off “you know we were all extremely comfortable until you brought them here” you groaned regretting letting Sarah drag you into this mess, you were clearly not wanted like she had tried to convince you the entire car ride here. “Stop talking about us like we’re not here” Sarah’s voice could be heard from beside you “then leave!”
You scoffed turning in Sarah’s direction “I told you” crossing your arms over your chest you got ready to leave only to have Sarah pull you down again “told her what exactly that she’s a liar-” Kiara began but Sarah obviously didn’t want to listen to her anymore “no that you’re a shit talking bitch” your eyes went wide at Sarah’s words, you’d never in your many years of friendship heard her talk to someone like that. “Oh my god” you laughed one hand covering your mouth as you looked between Kiara and Sarah.
Suddenly everyone was talking, yelling and screaming over each other, until you heard Kiara give John B an ultimatum “me or her?” She commanded, everyone went silent at her words eyes diverting between John B and Kiara. “Both” he stated causing Kiara to scoff, angrily turning around and making her way off of John B’s porch.
“Can I just say you handled that beautifully” JJ snickered sarcasm evident in his tone. “Listen Sarah-” John B began ignoring JJ “No it’ll be fine right?” Sarah scoffed quoting John B on his previous words to her “we’re leaving” she finally stated grabbing your hand and leading you back to the car. 
“Well that went like shit” you huffed as soon as you both got inside the vehicle “shut up” Sarah whined slamming her face onto the steering wheel “how the hell is our relationship going to work if his best friend hates me” you honestly felt bad for her you knew John B was a good guy and that Sarah hadn’t been to lucky in her previous relationships “we’ll fix it” you reassured her “somehow” you added underneath your breath “how are we going to fix this Y/N” Sarah doubted hands tightening around the steering wheel.
But as she went to start the car JJ quickly ran in front of it preventing you from driving away “what the hell” you questioned getting out of the car and walking towards him “John B wants us all to go out on the water to you know blow off some steam after- whatever that was back there” JJ insisted resting his hand on the hood of Sarah’s car, you looked over at Sarah questioningly and she just nodded giving you her answer.
Luckily Sarah always kept some extra bikinis in her trunk so you didn’t have to drive all the way back to figure 8 and then back to the cut simply to get some swimwear and towels. 
Being out on the water was something you really needed, as you lay at the front of the boat Sarah next to you letting the sun devour every part of your skin, you felt somewhat problem free for the first time in weeks.
“Enjoying the view?” you chuckled since JJ’s staring hadn’t gone unnoticed, he didn’t seem faced by your words only moving his sunglasses to the tip of his nose as he continued to check you out “indeed I am” he hummed before taking another swig of the beer he held in his hands. 
“Uh girls can you go get us some- uhm food from the cabin” John B’s voice could suddenly be heard from behind you, you found it weird that he was asking both of you to do it but then again, he was a bit weird.
“Sure” Sarah replied giving you a confused glance as you followed her down the small stairs and into the cabin “I don’t see anything” you mumbled looking around the small storage space, you were about to turn back around, Sarah following behind when the door above you was abruptly slammed shut, Sarah quickly ran towards it banging her fists with all her strength against it, this is it you were both going to die was all you could think as you stared at the closed door. 
A couple of minutes had gone by when you finally decided enough was enough pushing Sarah out of the way and repeatedly slamming your fists against the door. When it finally swung open you were not expecting to see who was now stood in front of you “Kiara?” you questioned but she didn’t reply, rushing to the front of the boat you quickly followed her Sarah hot on your heels “get your asses back here!” Kiara demanded, your eyes went wide once you noticed the three boys had abandoned the boat leaving the three of you behind “we can’t, not until you guys figure this out!” John B yelled back climbing up onto the boat Pope and JJ were stood on “I don’t have anything to do with this!” you yelled back gesturing between Sarah and Kiara, you were going to kill her for dragging you into this mess.
“We don’t care they’re your friends” JJ winked saluting you as they started the boat “I will kill every single one of you!” Kiara threatened but the boys didn’t seem faced at her words “you can’t just leave!” Sarah pleaded hoping John B would change his mind “There’s food in the cooler and JJ rolled a blunt” Pope yelled raising his thumbs up in the air “hydroponic!” JJ added.
“fucking assholes” you muttered watching the boat sail away into the distance. An awkward silence quickly filled the air as the three of you stood in a circle eyes darting between each other, you had never felt so out of place in your entire life. 
“I’m down for some weed” you finally broke the silence, you’d never in your life smoked before but thought since Kiara often did it it would be a good way to break the tension.
Kiara motioned for you to follow her as she searched the boat for JJ’s box which always contained his weed and lighter. When she finally found it she made her way to the front of the boat taking a seat next to you and immediately lighting the blunt, she passed it to you after a couple of seconds, you took a small hit, surprised you didn’t cough but as you were about to hand it to Sarah, Kiara quickly snatched it out of your hand “actually” she spoke, putting the blunt up to her lips and taking yet another hit.
“Really” Sarah scoffed snatching it away from her “go easy” Kiara warned “it’s JJ’s cousins cripple” Sarah ignored her raising the blunt up to her lips and taking way to big of a hit, she immediately started coughing as she breathed out the smoke Kiara rolling her eyes as she glared down at the two of you.
A couple of hours later it had gotten dark and it was obvious that Sarah was high as a kite, she kept asking the both of you very strange would you rather questions, you didn’t feel anything having only taken one hit of the blunt. 
Sarah kept on pestering Kiara till she finally snapped “Oh my god! enough of the ‘hey Kiara’ bullshit, why’d you do it?” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you looked between the two girls “I don’t know what you mean-” Sarah began but Kiara cut her off “we we’re best friends, we stole beer from your dads fridge, cried about boys and the next thing I know i’m watching your birthday party happen from instagram” you felt partly guilty, having spammed your stories and close friends with endless of videos and pictures from that night.
They continued talking about Kiara having called the cops to shut down the party and that when people got close to Sarah she bails, she had never talked to you about it before so it kind of surprised you, but you didn’t want to butt in, it was a conversation for another day.
As you guys got ready to go to bed Kiara made Sarah promise that she wouldn’t do the same thing to John B, Sarah only nodded resting her head on the pillow before everything went silent between the three of you.
“Also i’m sorry called the cops” Kiara broke the silence causing all three of you burst into fits of laughter “I knew it you bitch” Sarah giggled propping her self up onto her elbows “you should’ve invited me” Kiara replied looking over at Sarah “so you called the cops!?” you cackled “well my birthday’s next weekend so you’re definitely invited to that, wouldn’t want the cops showing up there to” you joked “shut up” Kiara quipped as your laughters faded into the night.
The sound of a boat engine woke you guys up early the next morning, finally you thought as you rubbed your eyes slowly getting up from your sleeping position following the girls back to the front of the boat. 
“Don’t give them the satisfaction of thinking this worked” you spoke crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at the boys watching the boat get closer “absolutely not” the girls both agreed with you.
“You gotta admit it was kind of funny” John B could be heard as the boat stopped in front of you, your eyes immediately met JJ’s who stepped towards you reaching his hand out to help you back onto their boat, you could hear the girls bickering with John B and Pope in the background but all your attention was on the boy in front of you.
You tripped slightly as you stepped onto the boat causing JJ’s arms to find your waist holding you steady, “that wasn’t cool” you crossed your arms looking up at him “what stopping you from falling into the water?” he challenged acting clueless “no you know what i’m talking about leaving us there the entire night? Not exactly the best way to get into someones pants” the last part you made sure no one but him heard, his eyes went wide as you sat down behind acting nonchalant as JJ’s eyes glared daggers into yours.
When you finally made it back to the pier you felt relieved to be back on land having felt quite sea sick the entire boat ride here “what was that about a birthday party you were talking about Y/N?” Kiara suddenly asked causing all attention to go to you, you cleared your throat before replying “well my parents are out of town next weekend traveling with Ward and Rose so I decided to have a little get together, you’re all welcome to come” you smiled “no fucking way-” JJ began but Kiara cut him off “we’ll be there” 
“Great, guess i’ll see you there” you winked the last part more directed at JJ who quickly removed Kiara’s hand from his mouth giving her a questioning look. Sarah pecked John B on the lips before you both said your goodbyes and headed back to Sarah’s car.
“What the hell?” JJ scolded as he looked back up at Kiara “I don’t wanna go to some kook party, do I look like I like to get the shit beat out of me?” Kiara rolled her eyes “JJ my parents also told me about Wards trip Rafe’s going with them so he won’t be there” Kiara reassured him “let’s just go and if it sucks we’ll leave” John B suggested “for once in my life, I actually agree with JJ” Pope added in “come on guys it’ll be fun” Kiara implored “I’ll think about it” JJ replied watching you walk off in the distance.
tag list: @k-n-e @avashroom @sspidermanss @free-pool-trash @we-are-only-halfway-home93 @k-k0129 @charoum @daygiowvibe @maybebanks @treestarrrrrrrr @whothehellistova @chasefreakinstokes @http-cherries @dolanfivsosxox​ @laurenroseh90-blog​ @multifandomlovess​ @jaazzzzz​ @tiredfeels​ @howdyherron​ @a-baby-dolly @eviction-notice-no666​ @voidsxsnets @imagines-and-preferences1216​ @elioelioeli0​ @iwanttobetracer420​ @jjshottub​ @queen1054​ @imsad05​ @yelyahryan​ @sunshinemadds​ @wwylmlive​
strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :( If you want to be added to the taglist let me know!! also please notify me if I forgot to tag you. <33
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silvercrane14 · 6 months ago
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Ships Adrift
Rating: Teen
Warnings: language, implied former child abuse
For: @fukoronoko
Pairings: pre-slash Kyouhaba
A one shot pirate AU where Yahaba finds stowaway Kyoutani on the Seijoh.
Shigeru finds the rat nestled in the storage closet, a pile of blanket scraps on the floor. It’s not a rat at all, and part of Shigeru is relieved, but a stowaway is much more trouble than a simple rat. He puts his hand on the hilt of his sword, hoping the boy doesn’t realize it’s a dud sword.
“Who are you?” He demands in his most intimidating voice, and they boy scowls up at him. A closer look tells Shigeru they’re about the same age- the boy might be older, since he’s almost Shigeru’s height and Shigeru’s tall for his age- which puts him at about fifteen. His eyes are dark, his brown hair shorn close to his head. He seems familiar, somehow, but Shigeru can’t grasp when they met.
“Well?” He takes a step towards the boy. “Who are you?” He repeats.
“Fuck off.” The boy spits, kicking his right leg out at Shigeru. He sidesteps back, dodging out of range. He notices the boy’s other leg doesn’t move- he’s probably injured.
“Tell me who you are, and I might not call Oikawa-san.” He tilts his chin up, looking down on the boy. A flash of... something flickers in his eyes, but it’s quickly doused.
“Like I’m scared ‘f some stupid pirate.” He mumbles, and Shigeru’s anger flares. He pulls his sword without thinking, angling the wooden point at the boy’s chest. He seems thoroughly unimpressed.
“What’re you, their errand boy?” He raises and eyebrow, and Shigeru turns on his heel. “Wait-“
“OIKAWA-SAN!” He shouts, leaning out the storage closet. There’s a scramble behind him as the boy struggles to fit himself back into his previous hiding place. “THERE’S A STOWAWAY!”
“You ass.” The boy hisses, and Shigeru smirks. Serves him right.
Oikawa appears around the corner, almost as if he had been laying in wait. Shigeru hadn’t heard him approach- for someone with as much dangly jewelry as Oikawa, he sure moved quietly. He smiles serenely, and Shigeru sucks in a breath. He’s struck with the same sense of awe he always feels when he sees Oikawa.
“Shigeru-kun!” Oikawa says happily, flinging his arms up. “You’ve caught our rat!” He slings his arms around Shigeru’s neck, sending sharp tingles up his spine. He places a kiss on each cheek, before pulling away to look at the boy.
“And what is your name, little rat?” He moves away from Shigeru, leaving him red faced and tingly all over.
The boy just glares up at Oikawa. There’s a long staring contest between them, with neither side backing down. Shigeru feels a bit awkward, standing there with his wooden sword hanging useless at his side.
“Ah, a stowaway?” Iwaizumi says, coming up next to him, and Shigeru almost jumps. He’s always been jumpy, and Iwaizumi gives him a small bow in apology, before turning his eyes to the stowaway. His eyebrows shoot up, face opening in shock. “Ah-“
“Iwaizumi-san?” The boy’s eyes dart over, and Iwaizumi grimaces, making his way over.
“Oikawa, buzz off, let me talk to him.” He shoves Oikawa to the side, who makes an undignified noise sounding similar to a squawk. Shigeru helps him up, keeping a careful eye on Iwaizumi.
“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean to me! Me! Your captain!” Oikawa is ignored as Iwaizumi kneels next to the stowaway.
“Hey. Kyoutani, right?” He offers the boy- Kyoutani- a hand that is ignored. Kyoutani curls further into himself, eying Iwaizumi warily. “Look, no one’s gonna hurt you.”
“We might.” Oikawa pipes up, only to be silenced by a glare from Iwaizumi.
“He’s probably injured.” Shigeru informs, and Kyoutani scowls at him. “You know him, Iwaizumi-san?”
“He tried to pickpocket me back on the mainland a few months ago.” Iwaizumi waves a dismissive hand. “So I bought him lunch. How’s your sister, Kyoutani?”
Kyoutani’s gaze lowers. “Dead.” He says, voice soft compared to his previous tones. “A few days after you left.”
Iwaizumi clicks his tongue. “I’m sorry to hear about that.” He extends his hand again, Kyoutani jerking his head towards the sudden movement. “Let us help you.”
Shigeru holds his breath as Kyoutani slowly reaches for Iwaizumi’s hand. Iwaizumi quickly pulls him to his feet, only for Kyoutani to topple into his chest.
“Woah there- Shigeru!” Shigeru quickly jumps to attention, hand automatically going up in a salute. It’s a habit he hadn’t been able to break in the six months on the Seijoh, too ingrained in him from his father’s boat. Iwaizumi laughs, waving down his hand. “Bring him to Watari, would you? His ankle’s probably twisted. Broken, even.”
Shigeru frowns at the order, his eyebrows drawing together. He doesn’t dare disobey though, and Oikawa’s hand coming down hard on his back sends him stumbling forward.
“Yessir, Iwaizumi-san.” He gives a small bow, before turning his gave to Kyoutani. The boy glares at him, which he returns. “Come on, Kyoutani-kun. I’ll take you to Shinji.” He takes Kyoutani’s arm- although the boy tries to struggle away, he’s developed a pretty firm grip from years of fishing- and slings it over his neck.
He’s careful to keep a few centimeters of space between him and Kyoutani, as much as he can. Kyoutani slowly relaxes into it, allowing Shigeru to half-drag him belowdecks, to Watari’s room.
“Shinji.” He calls through the closed door, rapping his knuckles on the wood. “I’ve got a patient for you.”
The door creaks open, and Watari’s surprised face peeks through. Shigeru doesn’t blame him- a new person is a strange sight to see on a boat in the middle of the ocean.
“He’s a stowaway.” Shigeru explains, and Watari let’s them both into the room.
“You know I’m not actually a medic, right Shige?” Watari comments, gesturing for Shigeru to lay Kyoutani down on his bed. He does, and Kyoutani shifts, warily eying Watari.
“Of course I know that, Shinji, but you’re the only one who has any medical experience- except maybe Matsukawa-san. Do you really want Matsukawa-san handling wounds?”
Watari grimaces, snapping open his kit of supplies. “I think that would be quite a disaster. What’s wrong?”
“Ankle.” Kyoutani grunts. “Tripped over a root back on the mainland, tryin’ to run from the royal guard.”
Watari’s eyes widen, gaze flying to Shigeru. “Shige, did you bring a criminal onto this boat?” He hisses.
Shigeru feels a flash of indignation. “Shinji one- I didn’t bring him anywhere, I’m just the one who found him. He’s a stowaway. Two- we’re pirates. We’re all criminals.”
“Uh-“ Kyoutani states from the bed, bringing their attention to him. “Are you gonna fix me up, or-?”
Watari sighs tiredly, dragging a stool over to Kyoutani’s side. He sits, pulling Kyoutani’s foot into his lap, which makes the boy hiss. “Feels like a sprain. Looks like one too, you just have to keep off it for a while. Keep it elevated.” He glances back over to Shigeru. “Did Oikawa say what he was planning to do with him?”
Shigeru shakes his head, frowning. “I hope he sends him over the gangplank.” He mutters, and the boy glares at him. “I’m not risking my crew for someone the royal guards are after.”
“Shige they’re after all of us.” Watari remarks, taking his bandages and carefully wrapping them around Kyoutani’s foot. “I’m Watari Shinji, by the way. I think you might be staying around for a while, so let’s be friends, okay?” He smiles at Kyoutani, who just scowls.
“Kyoutani Kentarou.” He grumbles, pulling his foot out of Watari’s grasp the moment he releases it. He grimaces slightly, testing his weight.
“Shigeru.” Shigeru introduces himself. He can see Kyoutani’s eyebrow lift at his lack of family name, but he had abandoned that name a long time ago. Memories of his past life only made him nauseous, way more than the ship ever did.
There’s a knock on the door and Watari stands, dusting his hands off and moving over. Shigeru is left staring at Kyoutani, who glares right back. He remembers where he recognized Kyoutani- he had seen his wanted poster hanging up in town.
“What’d you steal?” He asks, out of pure curiosity. Kyoutani sighs, revealing a golden watch from his inner vest pocket.
“Stupid fuckin’ watch, apparently belonged to the crown princess ‘fore she went missin’, now I’m wanted for her kidnapping.”
“Kyoutani-kun!” Oikawa’s voice chirps from the door, and Kyoutani stiffens. Shigeru himself immediately leaps to his feet, standing at attention.
“Oikawa-san, is there something you needed?” He asks. Oikawa’s eyes pass over him quickly before landing on Kyoutani.
“Kyoutani-kun~” Oikawa purrs, and Shigeru’s skin tingles. That’s Oikawa’s ‘I’m up to something’ voice. Kyoutani seems to pick up on this, bristling even more. “How would you feel about joining my crew?” He clasps his hands together.
Shigeru can’t help there twinge of jealousy that he feels. Oikawa hadn’t offered him his seat- he had pestered his way into it. Anything to avoid going back to his father’s fishing boat, the same old routine day after day. Oikawa had denied him at first, but here he was, asking for Kyoutani’s loyalty.
“No.” Kyoutani say shortly, and Shigeru gaped at him. Does he even know what he just rejected?
Oikawa’s eyes go dangerously narrow, his voice lowering. “That wasn’t a question, Kyoutani.”
Next to him, Kyoutani flinches. Oikawa continues.
“Your options, Kyoutani-chan, are either A-“ He holds up a finger. “Join my crew, or B-“ He holds up a second finger, on his other hand. “We turn you into the royal guard. I’m sure they’d love to capture the person who kidnapped Crown Princess Alisa.”
Kyoutani surges out of his seat, wobbling on his injured ankle. “But I didn’t-“ His voice sounds desperate, and Shigeru knows that Oikawa won. A smirk crosses his mentor’s face.
“They don’t know that, do they, Kyoutani-chan.”
Kyoutani wobbles for a breath, before collapsing back onto Watari’s bed, head cradled beneath his hands. Shigeru doesn’t feel sorry for him- in fact, he doesn’t have an ounce of sympathy.
“It’s not so bad.” Watari ventures, drawing an incredulous look from both Shigeru and Kyoutani. “I mean- they take care of us.”
Shigeru grits his teeth. Watari had always been resistant, the entire six months on the ship. Why was he changing his mind now?
“... Fine.” Kyoutani breathes. Shigeru scowls, but Oikawa beams, clapping his hands together.
They’re bunked together despite Shigeru’s protests. He insists on having the top bunk, and Kyoutani doesn’t fight it too much.
“You know, I don’t trust you.” He says, after the lights have been extingushed and they’ve both tucked themselves into bed. Shigeru stares at the ceiling and pictures Kyoutani’s face, his nose wrinkling at the statement. “If you mess things up for us, I’ll kill you myself.”
Kyoutani snorts. “Yeah, you and your wooden sword? I’d like t’ see you try.”
Shigeru scowls at the ceiling, before turning over in bed. “Whatever.” He grumbles.
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millytempesta · 5 months ago
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Save me.
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Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 4.
Paring: Asahi Azumane x reader
Rating: Fluff, hurt/comfort, smut.
Summary: Asahi is a marine biologist, who is in charge of taking care of the strange creature that they found.But what happens when he discovers that other biologists are experimenting on his precious sea treasure, leaving it a shaky, scared mess?He'll need all the help from his friends to rescue the little fish and take it back to his blue house.
Warnings: This chapter contain SMUT, MENTION OF DARK THEMES, as DEATH, WAR and MASS DESTRUCTION WEAPONS (ONLY MENTIONING), MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOMEONE.
A/n:  Late night confessions, a few details of (Y/n)'s past and a very steamy scene...
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It was late in the evening, the sun almost gone, no one, except for the cleaners and security, was around in the lab. Changing his lab coat to the cleaner one, Asahi made his way to the pool with a big clothes trolley (I’m not sure how it’s called, is the big trolley that cleaners use to put all the dirty laundry), keeping his face hidden from the cameras, thanks to the basketball hat he found together with the other clothes. Cleaners had a special card, who allowed them to move freely around the lab, including the restricted part he was working in.
Opening the big door to the restricted area, he quickly made his way to his office, where cameras couldn’t film him. Running upstairs, he turned off the music, shouting for the mermaid name.
After not even a second, her head came to the surface, looking at the agitated man with questioning eyes.
“We need to go now, come here quick!”. Shock filled the girl's eyes, letting her jaw fall open. Her finger came out, signaling for the man that she wanted to communicate. Pointing her finger to herself, and then to the door from where Asahi came from with still her mouth agape, she asked for confirmation. “Yes, I’m taking you out of here, but we need to hurry, I don’t know how much time we still have before someone will come and check”.
Quickly giving a nod she signaled for him to wait with her finger, disappearing under water. After a couple of seconds she came back, with their photo in her hand. She swam to the edge, pulling herself out of the water. Strong harms picked her up, and for the first time -and hopefully last-, Asahi made his way down the stairs and into his office, where the trolley was waiting for them. “I’m gonna put you inside of it, okay? You need to stay hidden under those covers”. Gently placing her down, he tried to hide her body, but her tail was too long to fit inside. “Oh no! Your tail is picking out, they’ll see you… What should I do? I don't have a plan B for this!”. Sweat started forming on his forehead, blood started draining from his face, shock filled his eyes.
He messed up.
He needed to find a solution, and very fast. It was not time to panic, her life was in danger.
“-sai”.
A sweet, fragile voice came from behind him, making the man spin looking at the closed door- wait… If the door is closed, then who- “Asahi”. Brown iris slowly moved from the door, looking at the (h/c) haired girl, whose eyes were staring right back at him. His mouth opened, but no sounds escaped, making the very shocked guy look like a fish.
A giggle escaped the girl, moving her tail up in the air. Her scales started losing their bright colour, her beautiful fin slowly got smaller and smaller, taking the shapes of what seemed to be… Feet?
Her tail slowly separated, turning into two (s/c) legs. Folding her new legs, she repositioned the covers over her smaller body, hiding completely her skin from the cool breeze coming from the AC on the wall. Still shocked and gaping at her, the girl opened her mouth again “We need to hurry Asahi, we don’t have time”. Breaking him out of his trance at the mention of being caught, he fixed the covers one last time, making her body completely non visible for other curious eyes.
Pushing the trolly out of his office and out of the restricted area, he made his way on the elevator, pushing the 1st floor bottom.
The door opened, a corridor with just a couple of cameras appeared behind the elevator’s door. Entering the cleaning storage room, Asahi started searching around for clothes. After finding a sweater with the lab’s logo on it and a pair of shorts, he gently moved the covers. “You need to wear this, so you won’t look too suspicious, and now that you have legs we can move more easily to the parking lot”. Handing out his hand to her, he helped her out of the trolley, turning his back to give her privacy while changing. A light tap on his shoulder made him turn back around, making blood rush to his face at the view. The sweater was too big for her, it was covering her hands, making the girl fight for her fingertips to come out; The shorts were hidden by the top, making it look like she was wearing nothing under. If the situation was different, he would have taken a photo of how cute she looked- But now was not the time! He had a mission to finish.
Taking hold of her hand, he pulled her to the elevator, pushing the parking floor bottom. It was all going so smooth, even too smooth. That’s when the elevator stopped to the 3rd floor.
Panicked he took his hat off, putting it on top of the girl’s hair and pulling her behind his wide shoulders. His eyes widened at the man in front of him.
“Oh! Doctor Asahi, still here? It’s pretty late, did you fall asleep again on your desk?”.
Doctor Furukawa entered in the elevator, pushing a bottom and making the doors closing. Pulling the girl even more behind him, Asahi tried to maintain his voice stable. “Y-Yeah, I was really tired, you know how it is, the cold is making me even more sleepy…”. Smiling at the young man, his lips falled back into a line at the view of someone behind his shoulders. “Doctor Asahi… Who are them?”. His face became pale, sweat started coming from his hairline, shaky hands started to fidget with his top. “T-t-they are… They…”. 
‘FUCK ASAHI WAKE UP! I need to find an excuse, and quick-’. 
But before he could the elevator came to a stop, a bell sound preceding the opening door. Still terrified he looked at the Doctor stepping out of the small space, stopping right out of it. “I hope you are ready to face the consequences of your action Doctor Asahi, they’ll start a hunt for you…”. Gulping down Asahi nodded his head, only to realize he couldn’t see him with his back facing him. “Y-Yes… I’m ready for my destiny, but-”. 
Turning back to face him he put a hand to block the door, making him stop in his sentence. “I knew from the start that you would have taken good care of her, your kind nature is a gift Asahi. I considered you as my own soon as soon as I saw you at the university. I saw your warm heart where everyone else saw only a scared mouse.” Opening his bag, he took a key out handing it to him. “This is my boat’s key. Save her my boy.” The door started closing. “Thank you Doctor Furukawa”, said Asahi, bowing to the man. A warm smile was the last thing he saw before the shiny metal closed. A tear made his way down his face, followed by a small sob. A cool finger caressed his cheek, drying it from the salted drop.
He opened his eyes, a warm smile appearing in his face at her worried expression. Putting his hand on top of hers, he turned his face, lips brushing against her palm. No words needed to be exchanged, the silent in that moment spoked for tousen of words.
Finally reaching their floor, they run to the car. Strapping her in, he made his way to the opposite side, strapping himself in. Turning on the car, a yelp escapes the girl’s lips, startled by the machine’s sound. A hand flew to hers, squeezing it in a reassuring way. “It’s okay, it will help us to move faster, you are safe”. Nodding her head she repositioned in her seat. “It’s gonna start moving now, but don’t be afraid of it, okay?”. Another nod came as a response.
The car started moving, making its way out of the laboratory, and to the beach.
Night’s lights came into view, illuminating the city near the streat. People walking near buildings that Asahi took photos of during the day lights, adorned by Christmast decorations. Curious eyes studied her surroundings, admiring all the lively streets. Coming to a stop at the red light, he let his eyes run around her features. (E/c) eyes locked with brown, an apologetic smile was all he could give her. “I’m sorry I can’t show you around… I bet you are curious to see all those places I took photos of with your own eyes”. Shaking her head she reassured him “It’s okay, you give me enough to remember”. Moving again at the blue light, he looked at her with the corner of his eyes, nervous coming back to him.
“So… Y-you can talk?”. Nodding slowly, she turned her gaze to his face. “I bet you are asking why I never talked before”. Taken back by her blurtness, he shankly nodded his head. “They were already doing enough experiments without talking, just imagine what they would have done if they discovered I could communicate easily with them. They would have started asking questions about me, my race, if there were more out there… It was better faking being like a stupid fish-”. He quickly interupted her with an hurted voice “You are not a stupid fish!”.
Shock filled her eyes, a silent fall in the car. A chuckle escaped her lips, her body shaking from trying to keep the laugh in. Red exploded in his face, embarrassed by the situation “H-hey it’s true! D-don’t… Don’t make fun of me…”. Completely letting herself go to laugh, she caressed his arm reassuringly, “I’m not making fun of you, you are just too cute!”. Turning his head to her, he felt his cheeks burn up from her words “C-C-C-CUTE?! I-I’m n-n-note cute!”. Another round of laughs followed his statement, making his embarrassment fall, joining her laugh.
Her cold hand made its way to the one not holding the steering wheel, squeezing it lightly. “You’ve always been the only one who ever treated me with respect, making me feel at home…”. She brought his hand to her face, cool breath hitted the back of his hand making a shiver go through his back. “Making me feel…”, she moved his hand to her cheek, “... So… Loved…”, nuzzling her now red face into his palm.
Stopping the side at the stop, he looked at her features, illuminated by the orangey street light, making her eyes shine in the dark car. “So beautiful…”, he whispered it so low, that she would have missed it, if it wasn’t for her accentuated senses. Moving his hand on her hair, he pulled her face closer, eyes slowly closing, breaths mixing together, their lips almost touching- BEEEP! Startled by the sound, their head bumped into one another, making them hiss from the contact.
An awkward silence filled the now moving car, both of them not daring to comment what happened.
“S-so…” clearing his voice, he tried to find something to talk about. “If you don’t mind me asking, are there more of your species?”. Humming in though,, she looked back out of the window. “I don’t know… I… My family died when I was little… I have lived alone since then…”. Sadness took over his body, looking at her with teary eyes, he took hold of her hand. “I’m so sorry…”. His expression made the girl’s hearths melt. Squeezing his hand, she gave him a reassuring smile, “It happened ages ago, when the big bomb was dropped... In a second they were gone… I don’t even remember their faces anymore…”. Silent filled once again the car, unable to find words of comfort for the girl.
The silence was broken by her once again “That day I understood how greedy humans were, how primitive for going one against the other, all in name of power and money… I spent my whole life hiding in the deep blue… Waiting for my time to come… But mermaids’s lifetime is basically infinite, we don’t die of old age”. Silently listening to her story, he left out some hums once in a while, to show his interest. “You know, the day Doctor Furukawa found me… I was hoping for them to end my life… I arrived at one point where I couldn’t bear anymore being lonely… But instead they took me with them, locked me in a pool and started doing experiments on me… I was so scared… After each test, my body felt like thousands of knives were dug deep on my skin, but because my body regenerate so quickly, no scar or scratch was ever visible”.
Worried eyes looked at her figure, fidgeting in his seat “Why didn’t you ever tell me that they were hurting you?”. Not able to look into his eyes, she kept looking at the city’s lights now far away in the far distance. “I… After all that happened I… I know now it was stupid of me-but I was afraid that the only human that ever treated me good, would have turned agaist me… And once again I would have been alone”. Tears started falling from her eyes, light sobs filled the car. Parking the car in a rest area, away from the noisy street, he turned his body completely to her.
“I would never hurt you, you know it… Right?”, his voice shaky, unsure of her reaction. Holding both of his hands to her face, she looked at him through her thick lashes. “I do know it now, I was just so afraid of losing the only reason that made me want to keep living”. Slowly, unsure, he approached her face, leaving her enough time to pull away if wanted. “I will never leave you on my own free will… I…”, her hands made its way to the back oh his head, inching closer and closer to him. “Sssh I know”, and the last space was gone, lips connected with one another, cool breath mixing with hot, making their lips the same warm perfect temperature.
Hot hands started roaming around her small frame, caressing every dips, curve and delicious softness, making the girl gasp in his mouth. Liking at her bottom lip, he made its way into her cold cavern, tasting the sea saltiness of her small wet muscle. Eagerly, she pulled at his man bun, freeing his hair from his confines, making them fall around his face. A light pull of his long brown locks, pulled out a light moan from the man’s mouth, making the girl’s legs clench together. Loving the sound, a sensation of confidence washed through the girl, making her push the man back in his seat and making her way in his lap. Eagerly connecting their lips together, she pulled their body flushed together, making their crotch brushing to one another.
Parting for air, he lightly pushed her face away, making their eyes lock to one another. “Y-you don’t have to do it, we can take it slow you know, we can-” she interrupted him with a kiss, pushing herself on his growing bulge. A low groan is swallowed on her mouth, making wetness go in her panties. Rough hands take hold of her sides, pulling her more firmly against his hardness, making it brush perfectly against her clit. “A-Asahi!”, her head going back from the pleasure.
Hot lips start sucking marks on her neck, eliciting more sounds from her. He started trusting up, hands squeezing her sides, probably leaving marks -not that neither of them cared. Small hands sneaked under his top, feeling his bunky abs under her fingerprints. Getting the hint, he moved his arms up, allowing her to take the shirt off, lips separating from her, now marked, skin. Blown wide eyes stared at his well built body, drinking in every inch of skin visible.
Before he could feel even slightly conscious, she started peppering kisses on his exposed skin. “You’ve got the body of a God Asahi”, she whispered on his skin. Feeling his ego boost up, confidence came to him, taking hold of her top. “May I?”, he asked, wanting to be 100% sure of her consent. Caressing his face she smiled at him “You may”. Without needing to be told twice, he quickly got rid of the offending piece of cloth, letting out a pleased groan at the sight in front of him. “Look who’s talking…”, he groaned under his breath, one hand coming up to cup one of her breasts, gently squeezing it.
Arching her back, she continued moving against his crotch, letting small moans escape. His mouth connected with one of her nipples, suking lightly at it, eliciting a more loud moan from her. One of his hands moved to the other nipple, twisting it between his fingers, while the other hand moved on her back, slowly making its way on her ass. Her hands flew into his hair, scratching at his scalp. “A-Asahi, I want more”. Unable to decline her request, he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other. With both of his hands free, he pulled her sweatpants off. Reaching for under the seat, he made space for their body and reclined the back, switching their position, so to make her feel more comfortable.
Leaving a smooch on her lips, he lowered his face down her body, leaving a small kiss around her soft skin. When reached her panties, he traced the wet spot with his pointer finger, feeling her twitch under his touch. “You are so wet already”, moving the cloth aside, he traced the wet lips, stopping at her bud, making a small circle motion. A loud moan echoed inside of the car, eyes opened wide, the girl looked down at him. “W-what was that?”. Chuckling to himself, he blew on it, pulling another moan out of her. “This? Is your clit, is a very sensitive part of women’s body”. Pulling her panties off her legs, he pushed the soft thighs apart.
“I’m gonna make you feel really good now, you can stop me at any time, okay?”. Taking hold of one of his hands, she nodded at him. Eyes rolled on the back of her skull, the moment he lached his lips on ler hardening bud. “A-Asahi!”. His warm muscle moved down, entering her wet hole, fucking her with his tongue. “O-Oh God! Asahi!”, one hand squeezing his big one while the other flew on his hair. A long finger made his way inside of her, making her back arch away from the seat. Moving back to her clit, he started pumping the digit in and out of her, shortly after adding another one. At a particular trust and scissoring, a shout of his name came from her lips. “M-more! Asahiiii”. Suking harshley on her bundle of nerves, a knot started forming on her belly.
A third finger entered her, scissoring around her spongy walls, hitting her sweet spot. “So-aAaaAh- so c-close”, a harsh pull of his hair, caused the man to moan on her clit, the vibration pushing her to the release. Eyes seeing stars, mind going blank and mouth opening wide with a silent scream. Waves of pleasure wash over her body, making her shake in delight. Only taking his mouth off when sure of riding her full orgasm out, he pushed himself up to her face, placing a sweet peck on her sweaty cheek. Caressing her hair, he looked into her eyes. “Should we stop? You seem to be tired”. Narrowing her eyes she switched position, sitting back on his lap.
Nails lightly scratching down his pecks, she opened his trousers. “I want to become one with you”. Pulling his trousers and underwear down enough to freed his member, she started stroking it with her hands. Kissing up his jaw, she nipped at his ear, whispering seducity against it. “You are so big Asahi, I want to feel you inside of me so badly”. His resolution snapped, taking hold of her hips and positioning himself at her entrance. Looking with pleading eyes, he stroked the tip on her wet cavern. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she slowly lowered herself on him, causing a loud moan to escape from both of their mouths. Once filled inside of her, hips locked together, he went for a deep kiss, pouring all his carnal desire for her in it.
“I’m gonna start moving now, tell me to stop if it hurts”. Receiving a nod as confirmation, he slowly pushed her up his leight, only to lower her back down. After the first few experimental pumps, he started moving her more fast, slamming her body back down with more force. Screams of his name filled the car, mixed with grunts and moans and skin slapping against skin. Pleasure fogging both minds, both running after their release. The first to snap is (Y/n), still sensitive from her first orgasm, spasming around his cock, pushing him to his own release, spasming inside of her wall, coating in withe warm cum.
Both stilled on the car seat, hugging their sweaty body, and leaving sleepy kisses on eachother skin. When his breath came back to a normal pace, he started scratching her scalp, leaving sweet kisses on her forehead. “We should find a camping space to spend the night, a hotel will be too dangerous, they might find us”. Nodding, she slowly got off his lap, hissing at the feeling of his soft cock exiting her sensitive cavern. Tirely dressing back, they sit quietly next to each other.
Turning to look in their eyes, a warm smile spread on their faces, eyes filled with adoration and love for the other, feeling so connected like never before. “We should leave now, so that tomorrow night we will arrive at the sea”. With one last sweet kiss, he started the car, going back to the main street, and driving to the nearest camping site. Now out of the city, stars shine in the sky, making the night more magic. Looking at her lover, a sad sansation falls on her body, making it hard to breath. Thinking about tomorrow night, a tear dropped from her eyes, quickly hiding her face from him, not wanting to make him worried.
To think that tomorrow they’ll part ways, made her heart hacker, while her mind remembered her that she knew this would have happened one day, because creatures of the surface can’t be with creatures of the deep blue mass, he would die under water, unable to breath. Turning her face to him, she stayed up all night, hoping to tattoo his features in her brain, not wanting to forget him ever. Only when the sun started to wake up, she found herself unable to keep her eyes open, whispering a small “Thank you”, she let herself hug from the dark world of dreams, imagining a life with someone to swim with again.
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kittinkanin · 10 months ago
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More boat, now in daylight.
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Morning coffee. Dang they look tired!
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Hanging out on the boat.
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Small tent on the roof for lazy days.
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Outside seating area under roof.
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Plants and stuff.
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Outside area from opposite direction.
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Table with toothbrushes and wash basin just outside the cabin.
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More plants around the other side of the cabin.
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And more plants plus some fishing stuff on the roof.
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Inside the cabin. Combined bed, couch and storage on one side.
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Food and kitchen supply storage plus fireplace/simple stove on the other side.
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And finally, front and side view of the boat. 
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