#tw: bees

[tvuniverse]

+ Bonus:

#dorks

9-1-1 Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley -> 8x01 Buzzkill

[cedric-k-rossignol]

was this what you had in mind?

thanks to @bezierballad for reminding me wicker man exists

[vintagecandy]

Art of Marigold for @the-dye-stained-socialite

Commission info / Etsy

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

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After the intermission (did you stretch, grab your snacks and your hydration means of choice?), Lilac and Forest ponder the deeper life and beyond questions in the kitchen...

...then she and Pauline share what I can only describe as a... spectral reach embrace?

I hate it here

cw: moderate sims spice - guide to my warnings

Not quite sure why Lilac feels the need to debate the existence of vampires when she's standing right next to someone who could answer that very question (also Sage has been unalive and kicking - and was only recently eliminated).

However, as she's not queued up any autonomous interactions with anyone or vice versa, I decide that this means one thing and one thing alone:

✨ CHORE MONTAGE HOUR! ✨

Since I don't want to take too much time away from potential bachelorette bonding, gardening is the triple threat of Forest, Pauline and Jerrod, while Spencer goes fishing.

Forest of course is taking excellent care of Jack-E-Chan, his bestie Giovanna's giant pumpkin.

Lilac is tending to the chickadees when she receives a rather strange message from Dodo.

It would be more ominous if we didn't already know that Grim has a crush on her. Likely he was just trying to find her on Simder.

And with the sun out as much as it ever will be during a Henford autumn, everyone decides to just hang around the garden. Jerrod gets his Lilac cuddlegram.

Then the pair enjoy a nice chat - seemingly oblivious to poor Forest having a Wicker Man moment nearby.

It doesn't take long however for Spencer to join in. He then offers Lilac a rose, seemingly to Jerrod's delight?

Jerrod also forfeits his place in the conversation to splash around in the pond. While wearing sneakers.

In spite of Spencer's steady attention, after Lilac serenades both Pauline and Forest, it's Forest who receives the question of the day:

It's a throwback to Round One for Spencer 🤭

Yeah, you should probably take Forest's turn at dinner, Jerrod, if you want to eat anytime soon.

tbc - I was just over the limit...

@riverofjazzsims @simstagramsomeone @invisiblequeen @akitasimblr

mentions of @ravingsockmonkey's and @panicsimss' pixels

[katiebugdoesart]

HI THERE

NEW HATCHETFIELD OC CARD UNDER THE CUTOFF THING

fyi it has a stylized honeycomb pattern and bees

i honestly don't know if it would trigger someone with trypohobia/entomophobia but I don't want to accidentally hurt anyone

Meet Mackenzie Finlay, a junior at Hatchetfield High, and the most... uh... competitive person on the cheer team.

She prides herself on being... well, not liked exactly, but... feared. Respected. Worshipped. Adored. Hatchetfield High royalty.

Of course, not all her subjects are loyal ones- namely, the geeks, the lowlives, the losers of Hatchetfield High. No matter; hate is simply awe warped into a different kind of passion, and Mackenzie can work with that.

It hasn't exactly been easy, defending her spot in the most powerful clique in HFHS. Ever since that stupid car accident her sophomore year by the Witchwood, and then people spreading rumors about her "psychotic break" a few months later, she's had to claw her way back up into her old social circles. Thankfully, things had started to break down without her. It took some doing- tapping on a few shoulders, whispering in a few ears, reminding her peers that she had made them great- but in the end things were back to normal at Hatchetfield High.

Even though Mackenzie herself didn't believe it. Even if there's a deep, primal something inside her that surely wasn't there before the car crash, something that she thought (prayed) would disappear along with Caitlyn. Something that gnaws and gnaws and gnaws, fiercer by the day. Something decidedly not normal.

Mackenzie is a part of my untitled Hatchetfield fanfic, where every so many years the lords in black each choose a sort of "champion" and pit them against each ohter for entertainment. Mackenzie's patron is Nibbly, and he heightens her physical strength and flexibility, but also manifests her ambition as a physical hunger, one that can only be satisfied by human flesh.

It was Nibbly's Sniggles that caused her to swerve off the road sophomore year, cackling promises of strength and glory and a price to be paid. After that, she tried to fight off the hunger pangs. She really did. But a person can only take so many days of growling stomachs, so many sleepless nights of organs screaming, so many weeks and months of single-minded, reeling, throbbing hunger.

Mackenzie did what anyone would do. She snapped.

She came to in the Witchwood, not far from where her car had run off the road. A shovel in one hand, a hole in the ground at her feet, a corpse resting on the bottom. It took her a second to recognize who it was, to see past the blood, the torn clothes, matted hair, and chunks of flesh ripped off. Caitlyn. A girl on the cheer team, someone who always seemed to get the spotlight over Mackenzie. She was annoying, but not annoying enough to warrant... this.

Mackenzie was full for the first time in months. And more terrified than ever.

The first time the school counselor called Mackenzie to the office her junior year, she panicked initially. Did someone find out about the *incident*? Was she going to juvie? What would this do to her reputation??

And the answer was... complicated? Since when were school counselors chill with murder? And with a bunch of losers? And... "Look, Holiday, if you're so damn obsessed with libraries, just talk to the dweeb that volunteers there... whats-his-face, uh... Woodward?"

Holiday's head snapped up, mouth hanging agape, eyes filled with something Mackenzie couldn't quite place. "You know The Librarian?"

Was that... hope?

(also college is kicking my butt and i dont feel like making a fancy interpretation of the card like for the others. here: ambition/hunger can be good, can be bad. there ya go. i may or may not have named after a certain king of scots, so...)

(Also also shes 100% related to Linda Monroe somehow... distant niece maybe idk)

[unspecified-expectations]

That time I was brainwashed in a dream

I'm a person distressed by bugs. I'll admit that their tiny bodies and common appearances in my life have made them something to fear.

Yet last night I dreamed of them. I dreamed of receiving a makeshift tree as a gift, small little compartments filled with bees and other assorted bugs.

It towered over me, just a bit so that when I wished to look to the top I had to crane my neck up to see the tip. Wooden branches protruded from a wooden stem, it was tall and not all too wide. Nests rested on top of little compartments, plastic for reasons I can't name, covered in tiny hoes for air circulation.

Bees circled the tower. One little bee at a time, buzzing around in quiet silence as I watched. They had no hive, not really. In and out of their little plastic home as if they belonged there, and I suppose in this world they did.

The whole thing was meant to be a game for me. Not that I really knew how to play it.

You turn the tree and pick something to eat, bee or pollen or other miscellaneous thing. I remember eating one of the dead ones first, little fuzzy bee going down my throat with an ease I quickly forgot about.

The tree spun again, and I was allowed, since I played, to taste the prized honey.

It was good, though I can't recall much of a taste, and despite my reservations of what I had done and the game I had played, eating the honey made me want to play again. The worries that had previously persisted melted away, and I turned back to the little miscellaneous box to see my next choice of meal, disappointed to see it being once again, pollen or Bee.

I wasn't quite fond of eating the pollen, too yellow too green and I knew for sure it would cause me more harm than it's worth. A small bee came by me next, and should I want to continue playing I realized I'd have to eat it.

I didn't want to eat it. Not at the risk of it's retaliation, not with the taste of it's fuzzy stripes.

No, I didn't want to eat the bee.

I didn't like this tree anymore, and I was beginning to remember why.

The tree, seemed to realize this too. For it spun around in imitation of the previous quiet victory and gave me once again a taste of the prize.

My fears once again disappeared as I was given a taste, and I remembered why I liked bees and why I had to keep playing.

This was for me, this was what I wanted, this was what I needed.

And as I played with the tree a few creatures hidden within it escaped and nipped at me playfully as they went. I still didn't like bugs, but I found myself neutral to the feeling of being eaten by them.

My companion was not.

She asked me, eyes serious, "Why? Do you not fear them, does it not bother you?"

and looking at the bug, which I had put back into it's container I thought, "Not really."

The bite itched but I didn't care, and as I sat near the tree I felt a few more bees travel near my head. Buzzing Buzzing Buzzing as they went about themselves.

I was content.

Whatever happened next is forgotten by me as the dream continued on. Eventually I somehow ended up asleep, and by the time I had gotten back to the tree, someone had moved all the creatures and bees into a separate space, small plastic containers out of the nest and instead contained neatly on top of each other.

The prize was long gone even as the creatures stayed, silently buzzing about in their little containers, contently agitated or something as I watched.

I found myself slightly bothered as I observed the scene, and unlike before I found myself quite hesitant to interact.

This hesitation increased tenfold when I saw the loose bee moving around the room.

"Hey," I called to my friend, a different one this time, "Can you help me catch it?"

Admittedly I did use a plastic bag in my attempt to take it outside. Perhaps that is cruel of me, but I found myself feeling slightly cruel after my mind had cleared from whatever effect I was under.

My friend and I soon captured the bee, with the only casualty being my nail which the bee had stung through in attempt to attack me.

It was the releasing of this bee into the wild that freed my from my dream and subsequent brainwashing.

And as I woke up I couldn't help but wonder what the fuck that was about.

----

[mcchill-16]

Why hello there, Miss bumblebee! 🥰🐝

[les-pompiers118]

has this been done yet?