#what do you mean this is not the normal way of reading james bond

[the-dragon-invasion-is-near]

I swear james bond can't go one book without almost exploding and getting captured, i hope it stays that way

[solxamber]

Can I get baker boy Trey realizing that his S/O is a super secret spy for another country. Yet, when confronted, said S/O admits that they faked their death to be with him.

Cocoa Conspiracy - Trey Clover x reader

He knew you as his partner, the love of his life, but he didn't realize your real identity: a spy vying for pastry destruction

Trey Clover wasn’t ready for this. He thought he was just dating you—the quirky, adorable, slightly unpredictable person who occasionally knew way too much about the inner workings of a high-tech security system. Sure, sometimes you went missing for a week without warning, but he figured you were probably just... really into nature hikes? Who was he to judge?

But now here he was, standing in the middle of his beloved kitchen, staring at a government-issued spy dossier that read like something out of a James Bond fever dream. The worst part? Your face was plastered all over it, right next to the words “Top Secret Agent: Wafflia.”

Wafflia.

He had to read it three times before it clicked. “Dear...” he began, holding up the papers like they were a particularly burnt batch of cookies. “Why does it say you’re an undercover agent sent by the nation of Wafflia to... sabotage the pastry industry? What is this?”

You, who had just casually walked in, munching on a muffin like it was a normal Wednesday, paused mid-chew. “Oh. Right. That.” You glanced at the folder in his hands like it was an old grocery receipt. “I, uh... meant to tell you about that.”

Trey blinked. “Tell me? You meant to tell me?”

You shrugged, your voice a little too nonchalant for someone who’d just been outed as a literal international spy. “Look, babe, I can explain—”

“Explain? You’ve been sent to ruin all pastries in Twisted Wonderland!” Trey threw up his hands, a little more animated than usual, which was saying something. “Pastries! My life revolves around pastries! Why didn’t you tell me you were some kind of... dessert assassin?!”

You chewed thoughtfully for a moment, as if considering the best way to let him down easy. “Well, first of all, ‘dessert assassin’ makes it sound way cooler than it actually is. I mean, it’s mostly paperwork. And second of all... I didn’t really take the mission seriously. I was distracted.”

“Distracted? By what, the buttercream frosting?” Trey snapped, incredulous.

“No, by you.” You rolled your eyes like it was obvious, casually finishing the muffin. “You know, because we’re dating. Thought that was kind of important.” You flicked a crumb off your shirt, as if this entire conversation wasn’t wildly absurd. “I couldn’t exactly go around destroying pastries when you bake this good. Do you even know how hard it is to sabotage a cake when it tastes like it was baked by an angel? It’s basically sabotage-proof.”

Trey blinked. “Wait. So, you’re telling me the only reason you haven’t followed through with your evil pastry-destroying mission is because... my desserts are too good?”

“Yup!” You gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up. “Honestly, if Wafflia tasted your cupcakes, they’d probably call the whole thing off.”

Trey’s eye twitched. “...Wafflia?”

“Tiny nation. Mostly waffles. A little maple syrup industry on the side. Really not a big deal.”

“You are literally a government agent from a country that declared war on bakeries!”

You sighed dramatically, as if he was the one overreacting here. “Yeah, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that I faked my death to be with you.”

Trey stared at you like you had just slapped him with a pie. “You what.”

“I faked my death. Big explosion. Very cool. It was like something out of a Michael Bay movie, except with fewer explosions and way more sparkles. It’s kind of the Wafflian signature. Anyway, I’m legally dead now.” You leaned back against the counter, looking incredibly proud of yourself. “Did it all for you.”

Trey was about three seconds away from emotionally combusting. “You... faked... your death... so you could—”

“Ditch the life of a spy and bake tarts with you, obviously.” You grinned like this was all completely reasonable. “It’s called love, Trey.”

Trey had to sit down. He dragged a chair across the kitchen floor, the sound screeching in the sudden silence. He sat down heavily, trying to process the information bomb you had just dropped in his very innocent, pastry-filled kitchen. “So, let me get this straight. You were a secret spy for a country that wants to destroy desserts—the thing I care about most in the world—and you faked your death to... retire?”

“With you,” you corrected, grabbing a tart from the tray and taking a huge bite. “I mean, why else would I fake my death? Have you seen how good you look when you’re rolling out dough? I’m not giving that up.”

Trey blinked at you, his brain malfunctioning at the speed of light. “You—what—I just—how are you—”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Look, babe, relax. All I’m saying is, Wafflia thinks I’m dead, I think you’re hot, and your strawberry tarts are so good that I’ve basically retired from espionage to live out the dream with you. Problem solved.”

Trey opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, resembling a fish out of water. “...I don’t know if I should be flattered or horrified.”

“Why not both?” You waggled your eyebrows, licking the last of the tart crumbs off your fingers. “I’m flexible.”

Trey buried his face in his hands, groaning. “I just wanted to bake some bread. I didn’t sign up for all this—secret spy, faked your death, sabotage the pastry world—what even is this.”

You patted him on the back, still munching. “Hey, look on the bright side. At least I’m not sabotaging your desserts.”

Trey peeked at you from between his fingers. “And... what about other people’s desserts?”

You smirked. “Well... no promises. But I’ll probably keep it to a minimum. For you.”

He groaned louder.

I didn't know if you wanted it serious or silly, but i made it silly. let me know if you wanted it more serious!

Masterlist

[idkjustlemmedrownlikerab]

Why Regulus dying was crucial to the plot of Art Heist Baby!

It really pisses me off and people say "Omg it's so sad that Regulus never finished the heist, why did the author have to kill him?! He never finished his life's purpose" No it's not,  because that wasn't what he wanted in life, he achieved everything that he wanted.

The story doesn't work if Regulus lives. Art Heist Baby isn't about the heist. I mean it kind of is, that was what drew me into the fanfic, why I read it. But, as I read it, I realized that it's not about the heist, it's about love, it's a love letter from @otrtbs, the author, to art history and to the fandom, and about the love of found family, brothers reuniting, and falling in love and all the sappy stuff.

But Regulus and the readers by extension, have always thought that it's about the heist, that it's about the infamy and being remembered, and that's how he lives forever, the heist gets him his brother back, the heist lets him live forever.

But then in Copenhagen, when he's literally dying, he's having this internal monologue, like, maybe I failed this heist and it's not successful and I didn't do what I wanted and I wasn't the best person, but I was loved,  I am loved and I have loved back, he says that he knows he can take that love with him wherever he goes, even if he's a damn star in the sky, it doesn't matter. He's taking that love with him, it lives on, and that is its own form of immortality. That's what Regulus had been searching for this entire time and even after Regulus dies, James is still there, and Sirius and Barty and Evan hell all the others in the team, and it's like even death can't defeat that kind of love. We see James talking to Regulus every night and recounting memories and keeping Regulus alive in a way, which is what Regulus always wanted!!!! Just not in the way he thought he was going to get it.

I mean, otherwise what's the alternative? Regulus lives and he's happy with James, and maybe that's better than living on an infamy and better than the heist because, well, he's actually alive, but it's not just about love. Regulus and by extension, the reader wouldn't have this moment of realisation like, oh, it's love, love is the answer. Love is what makes all of us a little bit immortal for a little while. That's what it's all about in the end. Not the money or fame or notoriety. Just love. And Regulus dying feels like it was the best way Nat could have driven that point home. Like plz look past the heist, what else is there?

Because Regulus spent his whole life thinking that this was his goal. Just one more heist, that's what he'd always said right? One more heist, this is the last one. This is it. He'll have achieved everything he's ever wanted. Except, it's not what he wanted. Because throughout the story, he gets his brother back, he gets Sirius back in his life after spending years in silent mourning dangling just as precariously as the daunting Degas in the bathroom, he gets his brother back. He sees Barty and Evan who have spent their whole life going back and forth, finally getting together. He watches them grow up and grow together, and he spends his entire life with them. He brings together this group of strangers, this ragtag team of random people that applied via a fucking poster about a lucrative job and watches them bond. He watches relationships form, he connects with the Remus through annotations and books and a shared love for Sirius, he organizes dorlene's proposal and wedding!!!!

He bonds with all these people that he never would have met if he led a normal life, and then he meets James. He meets James Potter, who teaches him everything, who lets him borrow his bravery and shows him that life could be so much more if he wanted it to be, which he does.

"I love you, that's all." His last words, love, that's all. Not the heist, not the drop offs, not the money or the fame or the glory. Love, that's all. He started getting involved with the heists to feel loved, to get the attention that Sirius got from their parents growing up. Some superficial kind of love, and his life ends after he gets real love, platonic and romantic. Love, that's all, not the heist. He died with everything he knew he always wanted but never had the bravery to attain until then. That's why he said maybe he hadn't lived a long life but he lived the best life he could have.

Nat literally told us the reason with Regulus' last words and all of us decided to turn a blind eye to it, yes, yes ik it was heartbreaking to see him die and not live in the house in Brazil with James but we do see them meet again in the epilogue don't we? And let's trust Regulus and the author both when they said

"in every lifetime?"

"in every one."

[fallenhero-rebirth]

Got asked for some writing advice

How did you improve your writing specifically beyond 'just writing more'?

The first thing is to read different things from different genres. Read an old book, and see how that is written. Read a genre you normally don't read. Read some poetry. Go to the library and walk to a random book, open it in the middle and read. Read on paper, and out loud. And then read some more. And when you read, try to think about why you don't like or likes something. Is it boring? Why? Is it hard to understand? Why? What is it in the words you like? Does it feel good to read out loud? If it doesn't, why not?

A tip is to take a book you think is interesting. Take a paragraph from the middle at random, and write it down in a word document. Pay attention to how it feels to write. How are the sentences? Do they feel different from your own? Close the book and continue to write a few paragraphs. Does your style change? What is the difference between your paragraphs and the one above? Sentence length? Comma use? Does it make it better or worse

Another tip is to write down a bit of dialogue from a tv show or movie you like. There might be transcripts online even. Take that dialogue and write a scene with it. Especially if you find dialogue hard to sound natural this might be freeing. Or, you might even find that what sounded good on the screen looks terrible on paper when it's not said by a charismatic actor.

A third is to write fanfiction and try to make it as good as you can. Try to make it real, as if it might have been from the original source. Think about what it was you liked about it, and then try to imitate that and make your own story. Fanfiction gets a bad rep, but it is a great way to experiment with writing without having to come up with characters and a world. That way you can just focus on the language.

Would you have any tips regarding writing interesting characters? Mine are always very flat and bland OR 'mary sues'

First of all, there is nothing wrong with a "mary sue". The way this is used these days, it might as well mean "protagonist". If Batman or James Bond can get away with their shit, your protagonist certainly can too. And your characters will be flat at the start because a story consists of so many parts. You have your language, your plot, your world, your story rhythm. And when you are starting out, there's simply too many things to focus on. You won't get depth in all of them, and the characters are what you spot being flat first, because that's usually what attracts us to a story in the first place.

My characters were terribly flat when I started out, but I wrote short story horror so it didn't matter. Nobody read that for the characters.

A trick I have to try to get my characters to feel alive is to write arguments. Take two characters you have trouble with and let them talk. Argue about something. Be stuck in an awkward situation together. Don't bother writing anything but dialogue, never mind the actual scene. Just write them talking, and after a while you might get a feel for how they feel different from one another. Maybe they start talking about things about them that you didn't even know. Explore. Have fun. Have them say something weird. Something hurtful. Write reactions. Don't bother thinking if it's usable or not. I've written pages of dialogue just to get a feel for how people talk.

I usually build characters by combining archetypes. I start with one people will know immediately, then add another, and a third. They will be uncovered one at a time, adding depth. Let's take Ricardo Ortega for example. The first archetype is "the sexy leading man/hero". Then, we get to know what I fondly call "the himbo". And finally, we discover "the clever, sneaky asshole". I didn't need to bring in all those things at once, as long as I got writing the first archetype, people would be interested and intrigued when they learned about the new facets.

Would you have any tips on writing humor/banter? You're pretty dang good at it but I could never figure out how to be funny lmao all the jokes I write are Extremely Cringe.

Oh I wish. I honestly have no idea. I was terrible writing characters and dialogue. I think something clicked when I wrote massive amounts of DA2 fanfic, because that was a game which consisted of nothing but banter, so I tried to mimic it the best I could. I have never liked comedies or really understood humor, so I never try to be funny. It's the one part of my writing I truly does not understand, some of my characters are just like that.

What's your plot planning process like, if you have a consistent one? I can only figure out the very generic broad strokes but it falls apart as soon as I try to come up with details.

All plots are generic broad strokes. Rebirth is basically just emo protagonist monologues a lot, meets up with some old friends and proceeds to beat them up. That's it. All plots will look flat and boring in your head, because what makes a plot cool and interesting is that you don't know what's going to happen. You do. You're the author. So of course it will look flat and uninteresting in your head. The hardest thing is trying to ignore this.

My workaround to this is only knowing the barest of broad strokes. I know where I want to go, who the opposition is, some basic scenes that needs to be there (not in detail) and then I write and discover things as I go along. That is the only way for me to remain interested in the plot, if I had planned it in detail I'd get bored. And oh, sure, there's a lot of foreshadowing and hidden things in my writing, but that's only because I know some big things that's going to happen. It's not like I have sat down and detail planned every chapter, what things I need to plant there, and so on. A lot of the times I forget things, and have to go back and add them, and so on. I would say focus on the characters before the plot. If you manage to figure out how to write fun characters first, nobody will care if the plot is bland.

[petermorwood]

YA or not YA, that is the question...

This started out as a response to Diane’s post here about YA literature and its long history prior to what some people think inspired it, but got longer (Oh! What a surprise!) and wandered far enough from the initial subject that I decided to post separately.

So here it is.

*****

Many years ago my town library (in Northern Ireland, so following UK library practice, I suppose) had just two sections, Adult and Children. There was no YA section, and the Children’s section covered everything from large-format picture books through to hardback novels and the usual amount of non-fiction.

(Library books were almost always bought in hardback for better wear, and even the softback picture books were rebound with heavy card inserts.)

There were classics like “Treasure Island”,  “Kidnapped”, “King Solomon’s Mines” “Under the Red Robe” and “The Jungle Books”.

There were standalone titles like “The Otterbury Incident”, “The Silver Sword”, “The Sword in the Stone” and “The Stone Cage”.

There were series about characters like William, Biggles, Jennings and his counterpart Molesworth, the Moomins, Narnia and Uncle.

There were authors like Alan Garner, Nicholas Stuart Grey, Rosemary Sutcliffe, Henry Treece, Ronald Welch… And of course there was J.R.R. Tolkien.

The first time I got "The Hobbit", "Farmer Giles of Ham" and "Smith of Wootton Major" they were shelved in the Children's section. This was about 1968-69.

In the early 1970s the library moved to larger premises, which allowed room for Very Young Children (where the picture books now lived) and Children (everything else), still with no YA section, though with more advanced picture books like “Tintin” and “Asterix” * in a sort of no-man’s-land between them.

( * These included editions in the original French, which turned out very useful for making language lessons at school a bit more fun and gaining extra marks in exams through judiciously enhanced vocabulary.)

“The Hobbit” et cetera were still on the Children shelves, but now that the library was larger and more open-plan, volumes of "The Lord of The Rings", normally in the Adult section, occasionally got shelved there as well by well-meaning non-staff people.

I never saw “The Hobbit” mis-shelved alongside “Lord of the Rings” among the Adults, but Farmer Giles” and “Smith” sometimes turned up there, courtesy of those same well-meaning hands.

It’s probably because the first, with its sometimes complex wordplay and mock-heroic plot, reads like a humorous parody of more serious works, while the second, if read in the right frame of mind, can seem quite adult in the style of Sylvia Townsend Warner’s “Kingdoms of Elfin” - which is in fact a good deal more adult than “Smith of Wootton Major”, even if you squint.

*****

This “Hobbit” / “Rings” confusion is a lightweight version of assuming a particular author writes every book for the same age-group. This is very much not the case.

Sometimes the thickness of the book is a giveaway. Compare, for instance, @neil-gaiman’s “American Gods” with “Coraline” or indeed “Fortunately, The Milk”.

Sometimes the cover is a hint, for example the difference between “Live and Let Die” by Ian Fleming...

...and “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”, also by Ian Fleming...

...although the original James Bond novels are – apart from some extremely dated attitudes – a lot more weaksauce than many YA books nowadays.

(More weaksauce still now that Fleming, like Roald Dahl and Agatha Christie, has been censored to conceal the extent to which - let's call them Certain Attitudes - were a standard feature in British popular fiction. Apparently (I haven't read any Newspeak Bond so can't confirm) the redaction was done in a curiously slapdash way, removing some things while leaving others.

These novels have become, IMO anyway, period pieces as much as Kipling, Doyle, Dickens and Austen, and erasure probably has less to do with sensitivity - maybe with some "brush it under the rug and they'll forget about it" involved - than with keeping them marketable, so Fleming doesn't go the way of other once-bestselling writers like "Sapper" and Sydney Horler.)

It would also be a mistake, despite advisory wizards Tom and Carl, to think that @dduane’s “Young Wizards” books are meant for the same age-group as her “Middle Kingdoms” series – although, once again, the later YW books and all of the MK slot into what a modern YA audience expects from its fiction.

But sometimes there’s absolutely no doubt that This Book by This Author is not meant for the readership of That Book by The Same Author. I’m thinking of one example which caused a certain amount of amusement.

“Bee Hunter” by Robert Nye is a retelling of the Beowulf story for children, though IIRC occasional bloody episodes as Grendel takes Hrothgar’s housecarls apart make it more suited to older children. 

I’d brought home a copy from the library when much younger, and borrowed it again years later in company with another Nye novel, “Falstaff”...

...which was poetic, historic, melancholic, often bawdy, frequently funny and at all times most emphatically NOT for children, as indicated by some of these chapter headings - I draw your attention to XX, XXII, XXXII and especially XL... ;->

Yes. Quite... :->

*****

I was familiar with card index systems from quite early in my life, because my grandfather’s grocer’s shop had a fairly simple one for keeping track of customers, suppliers, stock and so forth, and since the library’s index card system cross-referenced in the same way, I was already home and dry.

If I could remember a title, I'd find the author, and once found I could track down other titles by that author (which, as shown above, can be educational...) Even if I could only remember the subject - historical, adventure, comedy - I'd still have narrowed my search window more than somewhat.

(This from-here-to-there mindset later became virtual train travel by way of the electronic timetables which SBB – Swiss Railways – used to issue on CD, and which let me “travel” anywhere in Europe, complete with a map. Those CDs are long discontinued, but I can still do virtual travel courtesy of the SBB website. Complete with a map…)

This is the last one we got, kept for sentimental reasons and occasional outdated train-travel on an equally outdated XP netbook.

As you do.

Or as I do, anyway. :->

*****

I also knew about title request cards and interlibrary loans, and was a frequent user - never more so than when I started reading “The Lord of the Rings” for the first time.

The town library didn’t have all three volumes, just “The Fellowship of the Ring” and “The Two Towers”, so I checked them out on a Friday to read over the weekend.

You can already see where this is going… :->

I finished “Fellowship” late on Saturday afternoon, went straight into “Towers” and by Sunday evening was all of a twitter (no, not that one) or as my mum would have said, up to high Doh, as I fretted about Not Knowing What Happened Next.

Fortunately school was no more than a brisk bike ride from the library, so I devoted my Monday morning break to zooming down and filling in one of the most urgent title requests I’ve ever made, then spent the rest of the week on tenterhooks, looking in every lunchtime and each afternoon on my way home.

Just In Case.

Some kindly librarian must have pulled strings or stamped the request "Expedite Soonest", because when I went back to school after Thursday lunch, I had “The Return of the King” burning a hole in my saddlebag.

I wanted to start reading it at once, but good sense prevailed; imagine getting caught between chapters at the back of a boring Geography lesson and Having The Book Confiscated…

I didn’t pay much attention in class on Friday, due to being half-asleep after starting “Return” in the evening after prep and finishing it in the wee hours of the morning.

But being tired didn’t prevent me from starting with “Fellowship” again on Friday night, and this time being able to read right through to the end without needing to stop.

It Was Great…

[magicspace114]

New faces - pack bonds part 3

Toby was quiet but you could still see a glint of curiosity in their eye as your brother pulled out strange tools from his case. You were worried at first that they'd be scared but if anything, they were in awe.

They sat themselves up a little straighter on the couch and carefully reached for James, stopping when they'd gained his attention before they'd even touched him. "Um, what do these do?" Toby asked, voice quiet but not mumbling.

Your brother's eyes flickered to you before looking back at Toby. "These are some lock picking tools," he explained, picking up a set of lock picks, "these are for manual locks like the one on that door." He pointed to your front door. "For this though, they won't be much help." He looked over his shoulder, "mum said this would be a digital lock."

"Isn't it?" She asked.

"No, digital usually has a combination or something. There isn't anything like that here," James took Toby's hands, turning them over to see if there was anything he could use. "How does this work normally? Do they use a key? A fob?"

"They have a button," Toby said, "it activates the restraints or releases them. The button looks like it's tied to a network of switches that send wireless signals to the restraints."

"Alright," your brother took out a clamp meter and attached it to one of the bands.

"What is that?" Toby asked.

"It's a clamp meter, it can measure any electrical signals in the bands so I can see what I'm working with." James said, not looking up from the screen.

"Will it work with this?" Toby asked, "this tech won't be anything like yours."

"If it's still AC or DC it should be fine," James shrugged, "you may be alien but basic physics should still work, right?"

"I-I guess." Toby nodded.

James hummed and looked at the readings. Remarkably, he was getting them. It looked like it wasn't all too different after all. The problem was, there were no visible wires to cut, seemingly no power source to drain. These were simple, black, metal bands. They were too tight against Toby's wrists to just pull off too, not without hurting the kid.

"I have an idea."

"I'm not going to like it, am I?" You mumbled, knowing James wouldn't have stopped there if it was a good idea.

"It's kinda a 'see what happens' type of deal," James grinned, pulling out a small device. It was like a taser but you know, mostly because he's used it on you, that it was a lot weaker than a regular taser. It was mostly to stun electronics.

It was a homemade device with the odd couple wires sticking out and the grip made by wrapping duct tape around rubber insulation. There was a metal tip that delivered the shock.

Toby looked between you and James as you glared. "Don't you dare," you said.

"Look, we gotta figure out how this works, right? Besides, it's not a dangerous current. It's just a little sting," James said, "see?" He jutted it at you and you shrieked before he even pressed the button.

"James!" You shoved him when he laughed.

"See? It's fiiiine," James looked at Toby, "don't mind her, she's a drama queen." You hit him again on the shoulder.

"Drama queen?" Toby tilted their head then turned to you, "you didn't say you were royalty."

James paused then burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile yourself, "it's just an expression. It means someone's a very dramatic person." James was laughing so much, he was leaning against you for support. You quickly moved and let him fall to the floor.

"Ok, I like this kid," James chuckled, finally starting to calm down, "can we keep him?" Your dad just chuckled in the background until you shot him a look.

"They've probably got parents looking for them," your mother said and the light mood wore off both you and Toby. "We might need to find a way to reunite them somehow."

"No," you said immediately as Toby's breathing picked up.

"May?" Your mother asked.

Toby crawled over to you and small panicked bleats escaped him. You lifted an arm to let them curl into you. "They don't get to call themselves parents." You said stubbornly.

"I can't go back," Toby whined, "I can't-"

"Wow, wow," James said, "calm down mama bear, we won't take him away from you." You gave your brother a look and he gave you a nod back, a serious look falling over his face. He went back to picking at the bands around Toby's arms. "Ok, this might sting a bit but it'll only be for a second, ok?" He looked up and Toby nodded at him.

James shocked the band and suddenly both lit up blue along with the metal collar around Toby's neck. The bands magnetised and pinned his wrists together and two more that were disguised in the fur on their legs pinned his legs together.

Toby shrieked and tripped over themselves, falling off the couch and onto the floor. They fought for their hands, bleating and whining in vain as the electromagnetic force was too strong.

"Wow, hang on." James said, getting down on the floor with Toby but the alien kicked out, propelling themselves along the floor and squirming away.

"Wait," you took your brother's shoulder, keeping him in place.

Toby backed themselves up against the wall and curled their limbs up close. They shivered and squeezed their eyes closed. You approached slowly, coming at them from the side. They didn't acknowledge you as they mumbled to themselves.

"Toby?" You asked, quietly.

Toby let out a quiet bleat and started mumbling to themselves. "S'not my name." You overheard them say in their mindless rambling.

"Tobs," you said, "do you know where you are right now?"

Toby didn't acknowledge you as you crept closer. You caught movement in the corner of your eye and you turned to see your brother fiddling with wires and a large nail. You decided to figure that out later.

"Open your eyes, Toby. Just take a look around. You're safe."

"I-I'm good," Toby said slightly louder than their previous ramblings, "I'm good, I swear. I'll be good." They let out another whine that twisted your heart painfully in your chest.

"You are good, Tobs." You carefully put your hand on the top of their head, in between their horns. Toby flinched initially but when your hand did nothing more but ruffle through their hair, they sunk into the touch. "Open your eyes, it's ok, you're safe with me. It's May. I promise, you're safe."

Toby didn't open their eyes yet, still too scared but they leaned towards you. You shifted your body to be beside them and you pulled them closer, keeping physical contact light but supporting.

Your mother stood up from her seat and sat against the wall perpendicular to you. You watched her move, unable to keep the kicked puppy expression off your face. You felt horrible that there was nothing you could do for the little alien. Your mother started humming.

The hum was soft but audible. It was a lullaby, one you were familiar with. Your mother was always a lovely singer and even after years of not hearing it, the song was just as beautiful as when she'd sung to you after a nightmare. You rubbed circles into Toby's back while she sang.

Your brother snuck close now. On seeing what he had in his hand, you recognised the electromagnet in his hand. It was simple and rather crude considering the tech he was using it against but you could hear a faint buzzing as he got closer with it. He held it up to Toby's collar and the lights dimmed a little before turning back to the usual flashing yellow. Toby's arms fell away from each other and their ankles were also able to separate.

Once they were freed, you pulled Toby onto your lap, picking them up and taking them to another room so they could better calm down.

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[junkshop-disco]

Just posted a new chapter so what better time for a fic meme. Tagged by @magicalrocketships but idk if I have any better screen grabs than theirs.

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

38, which makes the average word count completely ridiculous.

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

1,048,397. Average word count 27,589. Brevity, I don't know her.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Downton Abbey, Fate the Winx Saga, Good Omens currently.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Honeysuckle Arch

Learning to Speak the Language of Flowers

An Equal and Opposite Reaction

Instalments

The Could in People

Whenever I look at the stats, I'm taken aback at just how skewed my sense of which fics are the most popular is. Because I would not have guessed some of these at all.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to, but I am--at heart--a deeply anxious squirrel masquerading as a person and any sort of interaction with people I don't know well can sometimes be too much for me to handle. When my anxiety is bad, I imagine that every single comment will be about how shit my writing is and what an awful person I am, so I can't read them right away, let alone reply. I have to work up to them and do a couple at a time and I always intend to reply but sometimes, weeks/months/years pass without me feeling up to it and then it feels too awkward. Right now my anxiety is much better thanks to lots of medication and some pretty hefty life changes, so I'm more able to engage with them like a vaguely normal person, but sometimes if I have a bad week, opening the comment box to reply 'thanks! Glad you liked it' makes me feel like James Bond sitting nose to nose with an armed bomb. I do hold onto comments, though. I screen grab ones that really resonated and re-read them when I feel down. They mean a great deal to me, even if I can't always say so in a timely fashion.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

It's definitely a Merlin fic, possibly Doubt Creeps In? That whole thing is pretty angsty and there's no real resolution. I wrote a few angsty endings in Merlin fic.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Idk that I've ever written truly happy ending. I've written cute endings, give-them-a-break endings, but I don't know if I'd describe any of them as happy. I don't tend to go in for them. Nothing winds me up more than an epilogue with a pasted on happy ending. I have been known to hurl a book across the room.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't for a while but I used to when I wrote HP fic. My favourite ever was 'you should be flayed for writing this. I hope you die.' I still laugh when I think about it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. All kinds? I have written the odd fade to black in my time and also the most unremitting filth in all flavours of vanilla to kinky.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've written a handful. Back on LJ I wrote a Merlin/Twilight crossover where Edward and Merlin team up to fight evil vampire unicorns who can only be killed by virgins singing at them until they explode.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. Tbh I just feel sad for the people who do it. It seems like a very hollow way to do fandom.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep. And podficced! It's always nice.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've done a few Big Bangs and other events where I collaborated with someone and it's always one of my favourite things to do. I've also co-written some... stuff on anon, which we're not going to talk about 👀

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Can anyone pick just one? Like Hotel California, I check out but I never leave. I am still here for Mulder and Scully, Mal and Inara, Tara and Willow, Giles and Jenny, Bradley and Colin, Merlin and Gwaine, Nick and Harry and Niall, Isak and Even, Remus, Lily, Sirius and Tonks, Crowley and Aziraphale, Thomas and Richard, Ed and Stede, Farah and Saul. The ships I love never leave me and picking a favourite would make me sad.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

If I'm posting it, it will get finished. I have a couple of things languishing on my hard drive that may never see the light of day, like a Thomas in LA fic post DA2, but I can't not finish things.

16. What are your writing strengths?

A commitment to the bit? An unwavering belief there's never a bad time for banter? An unfailing devotion to poking people's bruises?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

See above.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Would attempt only in a comedy situation where getting it wrong was the point.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Firefly. The first one I posted in was HP though, rip.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Saying I'm fond of all of them would be such a cop out, wouldn't it? In truth, my favourite is usually the one I'm currently writing, so let's say Sum of the In-between Things. It's morphed so far from what I intended it to be and I have literally no idea if I can stick the landing on it, but I've genuinely had a blast writing it, and that's the point, isn't it?

Tagging: @septemberrie @myalchod and @magnolia822!

[backupherewego]

72 HOURS IN BUDAPEST WITH JAMES VOWLES

Date: 2022/7/27 Source: 404 (Sorry)

James Vowles, a key figure on the Formula One race circuit, quite literally breezes through Budapest as the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team strives to be named the World Constructors’ Champion for the eighth year in a row. As one of the team members responsible for navigating the road to the top of the podium, however, he does manage to sneak in some local sights and a decadent dinner at The Ritz-Carlton, Budapest. Read on to discover his secrets to race-day success and learn about the culinary competition on this year's itinerary.

WHAT IS YOUR MOST MEMORABLE MOMENT AT THE HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX?

“Mine actually stems back to 2006 [when I was working with Honda]. We'd had some successful races and been on the podium a few times, but we hadn't won anything up to that point. Budapest is a track that is very difficult to master. I know it looks simple because it's small and there aren’t that many corners, but it's incredibly difficult to get right for the drivers and engineers. You also have rain that comes in and out. 2006 was my first-ever win as an engineer, as well as the team's first win. It's something that means a huge amount to me because we had to fight for it. It wasn't given to us on a plate. We really had to make the right decisions at the right time. A number of cars had a number of incidents, and we came through the field and did the right thing, so Budapest rests strongly in my mind as a result of that.

The second was with Mercedes in 2013, which was Lewis Hamilton’s first year with us. It was at that point we realized how special he was in Budapest. We didn't have the fastest car—Red Bull was by far the leader that year—yet Lewis was able to win that race fair and square. He did it because [Budapest] is just where he feels comfortable. It's a track he loves, so it holds a strong place in my heart because of that.”

"So often in life, you celebrate on your little podium and then bam, you're straight onto the next thing ... Whether the result is good or bad, we always pull together as a team."

DO YOU HAVE ANY PRE-RACE RITUALS?

“I do. I have to have socks for the current year. For example, the Tommy Hilfiger socks [that are part of the official Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team 2021 uniform], they have to be of that year. They have to be Tommy and they can't be anything different, which I know sounds strange, but that's me!

I also always go out to the pit wall with my water bottle, take it back, empty some water out and put in a Berocca, which is a vitamin pill. It’s something I've always done and always will do. Then, I'll go to the grid. There's a specific time when I set my IWC watch to the exact time of the day. It's just something I've always done to make sure that everything is in sequence. These are odd things to be admitting, but I always make sure I walk through the same side of the garage. Normally, it's Valtteri Bottas’ side, but I don't mix and match. They're all strange things I do out of habit, but they've worked!”

WHAT FUELS YOU ON RACE DAY?

“I'm really particular on what goes into my body. I’m generally on the pit wall for qualifying and the race, which is about two hours. You have to hydrate to the right level. If you over-hydrate, you're just desperate to go to the loo in the middle of the race, which is the most distracting feeling in the world! So, step one is actually controlled hydration throughout the day. Step two is I always have a banana and an apple straight after qualifying and the race. There is a tremendous amount of adrenaline that goes through your body and you have to put food in to absorb it to a certain extent.”

DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE WAY TO CELEBRATE POST-RACE IF YOU WIN?

"The trackside team that you see at every race spends more time together than they do with their respective families. We use celebratory occasions to pull together as a team, to strengthen the team, and to create a bond. After Silverstone, we all went across to the motorhome, every single engineer, and we took five minutes to breathe, relax, and enjoy the moment. So often in life, you celebrate on your little podium and then bam, you're straight onto the next thing ... Whether the result is good or bad, we always pull together as a team.”

WHAT DO YOU LOVE MOST ABOUT VISITING BUDAPEST?

“There are two things that not just myself, but a number of us like. First, there is a dedicated running track along the Danube. Then, you can run around Margaret Island in the middle of it. Everyone is there exercising, which I love because you miss that in a lot of other city centers. The second is that there are literally hundreds of restaurants that I would recommend, be it in the old town or the city center. I've never really had a bad meal in Budapest.”

ARE THERE ANY MUST-SEE SIGHTS?

“You can’t go wrong cycling or driving from the city center [where The Ritz-Carlton, Budapest is located] to Heroes’ Square. You’ll see some of the most incredible parliamentary buildings and hotels along the way.”

IF YOU HAD ONE DAY OFF IN BUDAPEST, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

“I'd go to the water park. I've never been there, but it looks amazing! I often find myself sitting outside in 34°C [93°F] heat looking up at the hills and all you see is people amusing themselves in splashing water.”

WHAT IS THE BEST MEAL YOU' VE EVER HAD IN BUDAPEST?

“The best meal would be the one that I had with The Ritz-Carlton. I was fortunate enough to be invited to a dinner that they hosted and you can't really compare—it’s just the highest level of quality that you could possibly have. After that, there's a steak restaurant called La Pampa. It's covered in cowhide and it’s truly amazing as well. You get the choice of either Hungarian, Argentinian, or U.S. beef. For what it's worth, the Hungarian beef is my favorite. I’ve been there enough times that I've tried everything! I also had dinner on a boat while sailing up and down the Danube, which was quite a unique experience. Nothing, however, tops a chef looking after you for the night at The Ritz-Carlton, Budapest.”

IS THERE A TRADITIONAL HUNGARIAN DISH OR BEVERAGE THAT YOU’D LIKE TO TRY?

“There are a lot of Hungarian dishes, goulash being the most well-known, but I haven't really tried any of them in depth. I find that the cuisine in Budapest is quite international. I've had curries there—our team has a fascination with curries. This year, there's an engineer's curry-off that's going to take place in Hungary. If things go wrong, we’ve got a few weeks to recover in August!”

[shivstar]

Regarding this post, because comments are off!

Oh I am an Indian too! And I agree with the fact that Lord Shiv infact gives all of us energy. I am neither too old, nor too young, like in my early teenage era and God had proved that he is with me.

I remember, I was really depressed a few years back and then many things happened at the same time.

I started reading Harry Potter, I bent more towards God, and miracle, I am now a happy careless fellow.

I don't think Ron is done wrong by JKR. In DH, the whole point of him leaving was to show what the golden trio is without Ron.

Yes, it is stated that they won't be able to live a day without Hermione but will they be 'they' without Ron? No.

And talking about Remus, as he is actually, I have this fanfic of mine, currently in drafts...

Yes, he is like a mentor to Harry, but what if he calls him Uncle once in a while?

Do you ship Hinny? If no, who do you ship Harry with because well...my blog is full of

A) Hinny

B) Ron ain't bad!

C) Anti-Drarry!

D) James and Sirius weren't dumb daft idiots!

E) Supports platonic friendship

Do you support platonic friendship?

Hi!!!! Sorry for the late reply...

I am glad things are working out for you in real life.

About Ron done wrong by JKR. I meant it in a way that Ron in initial books was a strategic thinker who came up with solutions and really had a leg to stand on among the trio. In fact it was Hermione who came out as odd one out with how she opposed the other two on every step.

Then don't know what weird sort of women empowerment came in this woman's mind that she made Hermine as someone who is pretty close to dark grey character if we see her in different light. Trapping Rita skeeter in a jar, writing permanent word on Marietta edgecomb's forehead, throwing umbitch to cenataurs. Like yes she appeared cool girl whose transformation was from a nerdy rule following girl to the no. one rule breaker among golden trio.

But with how much Hermione stood out. Ron began to fade as a normal average friend. Rather than the cunning sweet guy we were introduced to.

I am not saying that Harry Or Hermione viewed him as less but i think that just so that the titular character can shine and the female lead can appear larger than life, Ron's character had to take a step back. That was sad. He is my favorite among golden trio.

The problem with Harry calling Remus as uncle is that till the end of books, Harry was still calling him by his surname. He didn't even felt comfortable to call him by his name. Let alone calling him an uncle.

Of course, you do you. But i cringe everytime Remus is shown in familial light to Harry when not once he assumed the role of an uncle. In poa, he was his teacher., in gof he was missing, in ootp he was James and Sirius's friend, in hbp he was again missing for most part, Harry even mentions that he expected to receive a letter from Remus now that Sirius is gone. I mean if he was really an uncle figure then it is his responsibility to check on a grieving 16 year old kid. in DH Harry becomes Remus's equal by assuming the role of the hope of the order. The guy Dumbledore told all order members to trust in and follow the lead of. Harry also sets Remus straight on being an idiot about tonks and teddy. Remus goes on to name Harry as the godfather. Again an indirect proof that Remus considers a 17 year old kid capable enough to take care of his kid in case he and tonks dies. Like Remus never gave Harry that space to be a kid.

I suppose I am okay with Hinny but I do not go to search for Harry centric fics where Romance is involved because I have seen that guy from age 11 and I am honestly not interested in sordid details of his love life. 😂

I have an exception to it though.- fics which involves Harry going back in time and dating Sirius. 😇😇😇

About my view on platonic friendship. Of course I support them. If I read a story with strong bond between friends, I feel at home. In HP world, the bromance between Harry and Ron. And Sirius and James is canonical. They both are like ride Or die sort of duos. I love them.

Infact if I keep my romantic prongsfoot heart on the side fir a minute, I love the stories in which Sirius is paired with some other character ( anyone but lupin) and James acts as a wingman or gives Sirius some tips on how to be in a relationship etc.

I hate stories in which best friends are kept aside to focus on the couple. Like no. That person is gonna be a part of all ups and downs kr the protagonist. He will know all sordid details as quickly as possible.

One of the many reasons as to why I hate wolfstar is that they have to water down Sirius and james's bond so that the couple looks picture perfect. I mean it will be a sad story if Remus competes with James in being the no. 1 person in Sirius's life and looses.

Like for James post marriage, lily and Harry took priority over Sirius. So fir me the ideal person for Sirius will be the one who becomes Sirius's no. 1 despite James being right there. Without compromising the prongsfoot platonic love and dependence on each other.

I have yet to find such story. But fingers crossed. Life is still long 😅

[tyrantisterror]

For the past two years, I've been introducing a friend to Wizard School Mysteries by live reading the first two books over Discord, and she's loved everything about them so far (especially certain characters; I can confirm that Fafgander, Dhenregirr, Demonbone and Professor Spidergrin officially have the monsterfucker seal of approval). However, one line from Book 2 stuck out during one of these readings that made me wonder whether the impression we got was due to my own delivery or intentional on your part.

I reading the Needlessly Gendered Night Out chapter, and I ended up delivering Polybeus asking James to be his wingman as if it were a marriage proposal. On one hand, I just thought it was the funniest way to read that line at the time (which my friend's reaction confirmed), but on the other, it ties in so well with Margot's suspicions of Polybeus having a crush on James back in the first book that I can't help but wonder if that was the connotation you had in mind in the first place...

Well, firstly, thank you for that! I can't overstate how much I appreciate it when people spread the word about my books, and the idea of someone doing a dramatic reading of them in particular just makes the novelist AND theater kid in me very happy.

I've definitely written Polybeus and James's interactions to be very flirty, particularly on Polybeus's end. Polybeus is the Rival archetype, after all, and if your Leader of the Group and the Rival don't have some shipping sparks going on, you're probably not writing them right. So even as the nature of that rivalry evolves into something more friendly/healthy in book 2, it remains very flirty because Polybeus is, on some level, kind of obsessed with James.

Now, at the moment the exact nature of that relationship is intentionally vague. Perhaps not from James's end - we kinda know where he's leaning romantically by this point, right? - but for Polybeus it, like many things in his life, is in flux. A huge part of Polybeus's arc, especially in book 2, is figuring out exactly who he is and what he really wants.

Polybeus comes from Mediterra, specifically the part of Mediterra that's based on the Greek version of Greco-Roman mythology rather than the Roman version, which means homosexuality/bisexuality is pretty normalized where he comes from. His favorite hero, Achilles, is explicitly a gay man in Midgaheim canon. So Polybeus isn't unaware of homosexual attraction, nor does he have any reason to think he can't feel it. So him not knowing exactly why he's obsessed with James isn't a sort of "guy who's been raised to think he's straight doesn't realize he's gay" situation. He's been raised in a culture where people are kinda assumed to be bisexual by default.

But he's also raised in a culture with a strong emphasis on platonic homosocial relationships as well - warrior bonds and the like. Your closest buddy on the battlefield is just as important a relationship to a Mediterran like Polybeus as your romantic partner - and yeah, for some people those two are one and the same, but for others they aren't.

And then there's also just the fact that James is, in many ways, exactly who Polybeus wishes he was. James is clever like Odysseus, marked for greatness by a higher power, and capable of attracting friends and followers with what appears to be relative ease. He's confident (or so Polybeus assumes) and strong and brave, all traits Polybeus fully believes he himself lacks.

So what is the source of the obsession? Romantic desire? A warrior's bond? Envy? Polybeus himself doesn't know, just as he doesn't know what most of his other desires are or why he has them. But it's something for him to unravel as our story goes along.

And you know, we also have to take into account the fact that James isn't the only person Polybeus flirts with. He's infatuated with Gretchen too, even if he expresses it clumsily, and he's got a strange friendship budding with Charlotte, not to mention the somewhat Helga Patacki-ish treatment he gives Ivan. Polybeus contains multitudes, really.

[bitegore]

new game + 33 and 100 pls?

33: Every Lie by My Darkest Days

This is a really generic breakup song but I like to sort of deliberately side-interpret things that aren't explicitly ruled against, and I was forced to read a biography that was 80% cheesy spy novel bullshit instead of factual yesterday so it's on the mind and I just watched an interesting g1 episode with Mirage, so all of that comes together to mean that I'd like to interpret shit like

Surrounded by every lie that won't come true Now you wanna take the time, now why would you? Think you're gonna make it right, but how could you? So I can't stay, surrounded by (surrounded by) every lie

through the (to-me) more interesting lens of spy shit.

Jazz is kind of the archetypal Bondian spy, and if you tie yourself into knots (read the lyrics closely while ignoring the tone for point and idea, then flip the pronouns from "I" to "you" and use that for tone) a little bit, you can make the case for this being a Bondian "cool epic gigachad coolguy dude gets the secrets and also finds the hottest girl in the building and has sex with her and she turns out to be an enemy spy who falls in love with him and can't do her job right" type story, and just focus in on that last bit.

Making Soundwave the Bond girl is immediately appealing but also really low-hanging and not that interesting. So I'm leaning toward either Rumble and/or Frenzy or Ravage, suddenly discovering their loyalties are under much more strain than they thought they were. And of course Megatron is Mr Evil Genius or whatever and shit.

From there it's all about writing Jazz and Jazz and not Jazz as Mr James Bond In Metal Now, and playing up the contrast between the actual plot (tv drama goofy shit) and his brain ("am i supposed to be believing this? did you get this idea from a tv drama?") for humor

100: A Little Faster by There For Tomorrow

There is literally nowhere I can go with this that doesn't end at Starscream -> Megatron in some way. I think what I'm thinking is. like. Early IDW, so a break from the new normal from me, I suppose, lol - in the very brief era where Starscream was an apparent fanboy of Megatron's work in the gladiatorial ring.

Starscream and Megatron are distant friends and close coworkers. Megatron is a figurehead already, and Starscream is efficient and effective and they work less as Megatron over Starscream so much as Megatron+Starscream - one team, planning things out. In these days Starscream and Megatron are equals.

There's a sequence of this - five or six scenes, maybe, at most a thousand words - detailing Megatron asking Starscream's advice, them slowly getting to know each other, Starscream being turned to before Megatron as the military voice in the room alongside Soundwave. Power clustering where Starscream believes he deserves it, around his fingers.

Then we skip ahead - to the early-mid war period, before Cybertron is uninhabitable but reaching a point for certain. This one is short - Starscream looking out across Cybertron's melting skyline, over the heads of a bunch of other commanders in a meeting, as everyone clamors for Megatron's opinion on some tactic and no one asks him. He's not the only mission commander any more, and he's not the only military mind. He's not irreplaceable, and he's finding that out as he's being replaced.

Then toward later, near the beginning of what happens on Earth with the whole serious-assassination-attempt deal.

Only now do we come to the part that makes this song relevant:

I'm sure it tasted oh so sweet But it was never good enough for me I bit the tongue behind my teeth ... You said you'd always keep your word Show me what you're after I thought you promised me the world Tell me what you're after Go on and take it way too far Cause here we are, waiting once again Show me what you're after Just a little faster, now

See what I mean?

Starscream takes a step to go get what he's been waiting for. Faster didn't come fast enough. Basically an Infiltration retelling from Starscream's point of view, and he is PISSED.

[rockinlibrarian]

People I'd like to know better!

@stephsageek tagged me in this thing! I think the last time I did it it was specifically NINE people I'd like to know better? Anyway here's the last time I filled this out; obviously some answers have changed and some have stayed the same

Last song: I can't remember the last song I actually HEARD, besides the background music to Splatoon which the 16yo was playing as usual, but I started singing almost out of nowhere (there was a reference to Liverpool in the book we were reading and I asked the kids if they knew the thing Liverpool was MOST IMPORTANT FOR THERE IS ONLY ONE RIGHT ANSWER) "Drive My Car" and it's been in my head and still occasionally sung since.

Favourite colour: Still cerulean.

Currently watching: Percy Jackson. We're big Riordan fans in this household. @sunnymarbles yells at everyone to watch it ASAP and then basically trembles with joy the whole way through.

Last movie/TV show: Hubs got the complete James Bond collection for Christmas so we all watched Dr. No the other day. To various levels of attention.

Spicy/savory/sweet: All, as previously mentioned

Relationship Status: Married 20 years and 2 days. We're finally taking date night tomorrow night (I've had work all week, including the evening of our anniversary) at our reception restaurant and the hotel behind it.

Current Obsession: The Yuletide fic exchange. It is so fun. There are so many random fics from such obscure source materials (and not so obscure-- as I've hinted before, the one I wrote is from one I can't believe still qualified, and I think in the time since it DID qualify it no longer does, at least), and so many people had such fun with what they wrote, too. People are such good sports too! And the RESPONSES! My fic, which I will share with you when it un-anonymizes on Monday, is doing really well, people-loving-it-wise, and I am getting more in-depth listing-all-your-favorite-lines type comments on this than I swear I've gotten on all 33 other fics I have posted all together. Yuletide participants are so cool!

Last thing you Googled: How to remove the battery of a Vostro 15 3530. Good news, I got a new computer for Christmas! Bad news, it promptly stopped working after two days! Luckily, that means it's obviously still under warranty! And since I just saw a Tumblr post about Apple purposely making their devices next to impossible to repair to force you to buy more, I have to give Dell Customer Service a shout-out for not only getting back to me quickly, but walking me through various tests so if it COULD have been repaired by me, they would have showed me how-- and that involved me actually opening the thing up to check on the battery and connections inside, even! (They were all fine, it turns out it's a motherboard problem and I have to send the dang thing back). Which is why I had to Google pictures of how to actually do that.

This is also why, normally, I would be using these days to write up all my end-of-the-year roundup posts, but most of my notes are in Cloud Limbo, and my old computer is SO. DANG. SLOW. So my end-of-year roundups are going to be late this year. That's okay, I didn't want to do any fanfic-I-wrote roundups until after this last one un-anonymizes, anyway!

So now let's tag brand new non-bot follower, @pixileanin!

[randomvarious]

Today’s compilation:

Grammy Nominees 2000 2000 Pop / Latin Pop / Teen Pop / R&B

I think it's genuinely funny to look back on albums like these and to see some of the songs and names that the Recording Academy deemed worthy of nominating for some of the Grammys' most coveted categories: "Livin' la vida loca" for Record of the Year? Kid Rock for Best New Artist, even though he'd already put out three albums prior (and is also really bad)? Lou Bega for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance, and in the same category as Andrea Bocelli? 😂 What are we even doing here, folks? What's next, a Marvel movie getting nominated for Best Picture? 😳

Anyway, regardless of some of these choices, it's always fun to take a trip down memory lane, get a bit of that nostalgia rush, and re-evaluate some of these hits that were completely inescapable two-plus decades ago.

And I think my biggest takeaway here is that, even though I still can’t help but love most of its dopey songs, the US' Latin pop boom at the turn of the millennium was, for the most part, pretty objectively terrible. "Livin' la vida loca" is pure maximalist cringe, with its "skin's the color mocha" lyric possibly being the worst line ever written in the history of pop music. And its absurd James Bond guitar motif will also never not be funny to me. Amazing to remember that people unironically enjoyed this song at one point. Like, imagine going to a normal bar at peak hours on a Saturday night in 1999 and this song comes on, and people start going nuts for it? What a time to be alive.

And same goes for "Mambo No. 5," another incredible Latin pop inanity that also happened to mesh well with that whole swing revival thing that bands like the Brian Setzer Orchestra and the Cherry Poppin' Daddies (that fucking name, man) were somehow getting away with at the same exact time. God, what musical horrors this time period wrought. And Lou Bega's not even Latin, either, by the way. He's a German native who's of Sicilian and Ugandan descent. And still, he made one of the biggest Latin pop hits of all time. Go figure.

And then there's Santana's "Smooth," which isn't actually an *awful* song on its own—at least not to nearly the same extent as those other two—but it's managed to reach such an extreme level of saturation over the years that I think it's now achieved a meme status that's akin to "All Star." I mean, that opening bar hits and you just chuckle at the utter absurdity of this song's existence at this point, right? But I actually learned a couple interesting facts about it today. One is that the guy who produced Matchbox Twenty's debut album also produced this song, and the other is that, originally, it was given to Rob Thomas in its preliminary stages, so he could work on it and then someone else could end up singing the final product, but Santana just decided that Thomas should provide the lead vocals anyway. And Thomas actually had someone like George Michael in mind instead, so try to imagine what that would've sounded like 😯.

But I swear to you all that I'm not actually an insufferably stuffy despiser of all 90s pop; I love some of the music on here. "...Baby One More Time" and that whole Swedish-produced teen pop craze has really grown on me over the years. Producer Max Martin was a total pop production genius back then and that Britney Spears debut single was one of his finest works. It has such an excellently lush final push and the song itself legitimately changed the pop music landscape forever. But I also can't help but notice some of the similarities between it and another less remembered co-production of Martin's that he did in '97 for Robyn called "Show Me Love" (not to be confused with the all-time diva house hit, "Show Me Love" by Robin S.) .

By the way, wanna see quite possibly the wrongest anyone's ever been about anything, ever? Read the following sentence from the Wikipedia article for "...Baby One More Time." The level of lack of foresight is off the fucking charts!

Given what we know now, it's crazy to think how multiple people at the top of the industry could've missed this mark by so goddamn much, but they did. And maybe, had "...Baby One More Time" never been made, they might've actually been right. But as it turns out, they were the complete opposite of that.

Overall, this is a fun album for channeling more innocent times and enjoying some of the pure pop goofiness of 1999, but the idea that some of these songs ever got nominated for anything other than the musical equivalent of a Razzie by an “authoritative” institution is pretty funny in and of itself and it also reveals what an unserious organization the Recording Academy really became at some point. Like, I can't imagine, at any time, thinking that a song like "Livin' la vida loca" ever exuded any kind of level of excellence, but I'd also very much like to meet the people who did!

Highlights:

Backstreet Boys - "I Want It That Way" Ricky Martin - "Livn' la vida loca" Santana - "Smooth" TLC - "No Scrubs" Christina Aguilera - "Genie in a Bottle" Macy Gray - "Do Something" Kid Rock - "Bawitdaba" Britney Spears - "...Baby One More Time" Marc Anthony - "I Need to Know" Lou Bega - "Mambo No. 5 (A Little Bit Of...)" Sting - "Brand New Day"

[bisluthq]

Do you reckon the Annie Rice book on alcohol would help give up other vices that are used in a coping mechanism the same way as alcohol? For context, I don’t drink, but if I did I would be the person who drinks alone and kept up appearances in public. I’m very straight laced in public but yeah by myself is another story 😬 and there are resources on some typical vices, but I’ve been impressed and inspired by the lifestyle changes you’ve spoken about here and want to do the equivalent but I haven’t found a resource or story that resonates with me? I know I’m numbing myself, I know I’m doing everything to not be alone with my thoughts and my vices can change and switch but I always have one going. I’m in therapy and talk about deep trauma but then feel like I’m failing therapy when I return to my vices so I keep it secret… I should really tell her about that hey lmao

So I suppose you could theoretically Annie Grace any vice in your life lol - it’d just take more effort because you’d have to write the questions to ask yourself right and do the research yourself whereas she has done it for us on alcohol and a book on nicotine. I haven’t done the nicotine one yet (I’m planning to). Basically her premise is as follows: many of our “bad” behaviors are based on our subconscious minds and we need to unpack our innermost beliefs in order to stop them. Some of the things are truisms but we haven’t really thought about them consciously and so these things sit in our subconscious and basically ruin our life.

Let me walk you through how she unpacks some of these subconscious beliefs on alcohol (which is obviously the founding thing she did, again I haven’t read the nicotine book yet but that’s next). For example, many people say they drink because they like the taste. That’s believable, right? We observe people drinking all around us long before we take a drink ourselves - our families, friends, characters on TV, characters in films, celebrities, characters in books, people in restaurants. Our first experience of alcohol, though, for the most part tends to be negative - we tend not to like the taste and most of us aren’t especially keen on the sensation. However, our assumption is that there must be something good about drinking because otherwise all those people and role models would be crazy lol. So we conclude that we must persevere with drinking and “acquire a taste” for it in order to be sophisticated or fun or interesting or even normal and we do exactly that until such a time as we actually genuinely grow to like the taste in part because alcohol is habit forming and addictive, our brains chemically become accustomed to the substance and in part because we can train ourselves to like just about anything if we are committed enough. Let me walk you through another one. We observe that alcohol is used to acquire “liquid courage” - James Bond consumes copious martinis, the girl in the film downs a glass of wine before she confronts the boy, someone has a shot before they go do karaoke. We assume that alcohol makes us bolder and braver. We eventually experience this in action (because alcohol chemically lowers inhibitions so like yes this works). We conclude that yes we are gonna be braver on alcohol. (Even though this is stupid lol because then we’d be encouraging people to do shots before they go work as first responders). Etc. Unpacking these subconscious beliefs means confronting what they are and the actual reality/truth around them and once we actually unpack why we think certain things that sort of lie dormant at the bottom of our minds, drinking (or smoking I guess or many other things) become way less appealing?

I’m not sure how you’d go about doing this for something that’s just a compulsion like skin picking because I don’t think any of us have internalized ideas about like… the benefits of skin picking… but say like diet culture we could Annie Grace our ways out of. We observe thin celebrities being happy, we experience people praising us for losing weight, we assume that being in a smaller body is key to happiness and we conclude that dieting is the way to do that even when evidence contradicts that etc. But I think there’s value to challenging these beliefs across the board right like why do we think certain things and is it making us… happy? Is it serving us? Do we actually need these things (be they behaviors or substances)?

She also talks a lot about how these things are just human nature right and societal so she’s very against shit like AA because that separates out “alcoholics” and “normal people” whereas actually most of us fall privy to these things. I’d say this applies to something like diet culture too right because we do separate out “people with eating disorders” and “normal people” and maybe we shouldn’t.

idk you could try the book and see what you think.

Obviously it’s kinda hard for me to tell without knowing what it is you’re struggling with per se and like what I was struggling with actually was alcohol so that’s easier for me lol because the book was crazy eye opening. There are a lot of cool resources for a lot of things though and I think confronting why we do certain things or engage in particular behaviors is often very useful. Also I think just thinking about these things is valuable like in our own heads and outside a therapist’s office yk (not that I’m anti therapy but like I think some things we just need to deal with in our own heads too because actually therapists have been telling me for years my drinking is not the problem and I… literally think it was lol like I’ve had so many therapists tell me the drinking is a symptom of other shit wrong with me but I am SO much happier having dramatically cut alcohol that idk man if it was the symptom or the cause??????)

[thesugarclubs-blog]

The Summer Camp - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: murder, blood, oral (m receiving), friday the 13th vibes, Minors DNI

word count: 9.7k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1271991584-the-summer-camp-willow

Masterlist

“I promise sweetheart, you’re going to love this place.” Willows's mother excitedly tapped on the steering wheel after rambling through the only five perks Howling Woods Summer Camp had to offer.

 “I went here when I was your age and it’s how—“ 

“You met dad… I know mom.” Willow finished for her mother. A nervous pit of anxiety filled her stomach. At 18 the last thing she wanted to do this summer was babysit a bunch of snot-nosed kids but her mother promised that if she at least went one year, Willow could pick the out-of-state college she had her eye on.

“It’s gonna be a great sweetie.” her mother beamed from the driver's seat. 

Willow had her doubts about the extreme promises of newfound friendships and bonding activities. She’d rather be at home or at her spot by the beach reading or listening to her records before she inevitably left her small town for bigger and better things. This was her unfortunate last hurrah and it would take a lot for her to change her mind that this summer wasn’t going to blow. After what felt like a lifetime, her mother's car pulled into the gravel lot past the Howling Woods Summer Camp sign. 

They parked and Willow collected her things from the car and gave her mother one final goodbye before turning towards the camp. Her only sound of freedom was her mother's tires on the gravel behind her, fleeting off into the distance. The camp seemed normal, with a large mess hall to greet the campers and a row of cabins to the right tucked just along the tree line. 

Willow could already hear whooping and laughter followed by the unmistakable sounds of splashing as her feet carried her towards the lake. She tutted along with her duffel bag hanging off of her shoulder until a petite redhead came into view. The girl was sitting at the edge of one of the picnic tables watching over a group of kids playing with horse shoes. 

“Excuse me?” Willow’s voice cracked slightly. An awkward smile spread across her features as the girl turned. “I’m uh... I’m Willow. I’m supposed to check in with James?” 

The girl's brow furrowed for a moment before her eyes went wide, snapping her fingers. “Oh! You mean Bucky! Are you one of the new counselors?” She asked, standing up and clapping her hands together. 

Willow sighed with a soft nod. “Yeah, I am.” 

“Well, Willow, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Wanda! Come on, I’ll take you to see him.” Her voice was bubbly with a smoky quality to it that made Willow smile. Wanda snaked her arm with Willows and began leading her towards the lake. “Knowing him he’ll be down here with Stevie, pretending that they’re actually lifeguards.”

She nodded, taking note of another name to remember. They reached the lake and saw two young men jumping off a floating platform. “Boys! Come meet Willow!” Wanda called from the edge of the water.

Willow adjusted her duffel bag on her shoulder and nervously chewed on her lip, and then she saw a man with long, dark hair and piercing blue eyes that she could see from afar emerge from the lake. 

Water dripped down his sculpted torso, his blue short shorts just barely clinging to his hips and muscular thighs. He had gorgeous, sharp cheekbones and full lips that curled in a smile the second he laid eyes on her. His friend was just as gorgeous and muscular with long blonde hair, large biceps, and a pair of bright red short shorts. 

"They like to think they're hot shit-- You left your whistles in the office, you goons!" Wanda called as she shook two yellow whistles in her hand. The dark-haired one flashed Willow a smile that made her knees knock together as he approached and stuck his hand out.

 "Sorry, Wands. Hi, I'm Bucky. This is Steve."

Willow stared, mouth open, for way longer than she should have done. It was only when Bucky raised his eyebrow at her that she realized and she shook her head slightly, putting her hand in his. “W-Willow” she managed, flushing pink.

Bucky‘s toothy grin was plastered to his face as he shook her hand, his thumb rubbing gently against her skin. Willow felt goosebumps on her thighs and a solid flutter from the butterflies in her stomach. “Well, hey there,” Steve drawled as he squeezed excess lake water from his incredibly red, impossibly short shorts.

Willow cleared her throat and dropped her hand from Buckys extending it to Steve. “Nice to meet you both” she swallowed thickly. 

Steve brought her knuckles up and pressed his lips to them, “We are very happy to have you, Willow”. Bucky shoved Steve’s shoulder, causing a booming laugh to leave his chest. 

“Will you boys behave?! You're gonna scare the poor girl away” Wanda rolled her eyes. “Sorry about them...”

"I promise we’ll behave now." Steve said, apologizing in a fake sickly sweet tone. His hair, a dark brown from being wet, fell into his stormy blue eyes. 

"Stevie, we all know y'all will not behave." Wanda said with an eye roll.

“You wound me.” Steve scoffed, a delicious smile forming on his lips as he slapped his huge hands against his bare chest. 

“If you're done screwing the new girl with your eyes, can one of you take her up to her cabin?” Wanda tilted her head to the side and snapped her gum at both men before slapping her hand flat against Bucky’s chest. The whistles rattled together as he took them and both men lifted them over their heads.

“Come on then, new girl. With me.” Bucky grinned, wiggling his eyebrows and unhooking Willow’s duffel from her arm. “I’ll take that, it’s a bit of a hike.” 

“Stick to the trail, Bucky! Don’t confuse her with your stupid shortcuts!” Wanda called after them and Bucky replied with a dismissive wave of his arm.

"So," Willow starts as they begin going up the trail, trying to ignore the chill that runs through her body at the sight of the towering trees closing off the trail on both sides, 

"What are we doing first?" She sees the ghost of a smirk cross his face before it's replaced with a serious face when he turns to her, "Training. You're not working with the kids on your own today."

Willow couldn't help but be surprised at his expression. She didn't think someone here actually took their job that seriously? She looked down at her feet for a second before Bucky leaned into her line of sight with a broad smile. 

His hand caught her arm and Willow felt like she was shocked. "I'm kidding. You think this place has fuckin' training?" he giggled as he continued walking, Willow rolling her eyes.

“Does this trail ever end?” She laughed softly as they headed further into the tree line. Bucky smirked, turning back to her. 

“Why? You afraid to be alone with little ole me?” He said mocking a pout. Slight irritation licked at her as that knee-knocking grin spread across his face again. 

“Maybe you should be the one afraid of me.” She smirked.

“I’m shaking.” Bucky laughed lightly, hand bumping Willow’s as they walked, sending a flare of heat down her spine.

He grinned at her and she felt butterflies in her stomach. God, he's cute.

"Nice to know someone around here has some bite. You're gonna need it, these kids are little fuckin' monsters."

Willow laughed as Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"I doubt they're that bad."

"Yeah? I caught two of them eating Elmer's glue right out of the tub like it was cake batter, another one got his head stuck in the railings of one of the cabin staircases and his friends covered his head in Crisco to try and get him out. And another duct taped his friend to a fucking tree and left him there during a storm. They're demons, and they'll eat you alive if you let them." He paused and looked her up and down. "But you look like you can handle 'em, darlin'."

“Sounds like a typical weekend in my hometown.” Willow deadpanned.

Bucky stopped and turned to face her before letting out a giant belly laugh.

“Yeah, New Girl, you’re gonna do fine,” he said, slinging his arm over her shoulders and continuing their journey. “Cabin’s just up here.”

They followed a small dirt path up to a large, log cabin. Willow stared up at the cobwebs and dust that adorned the porch. Some lawn chairs were scattered near the door and there were partially crushed beer cans littered across the entryway. 

Howling Woods was advertised as rustic and rugged, but this is not what Willow was expecting. Bucky ushered her up the stairs, giving a half bow as she giggled. 

“After you” he announced proudly, as he quickly swept an empty condom wrapper off the stairs and onto the ground. 

Well, she thought as her feet creaked against the wooden steps, at least the counselors seem to have fun here.

The two of them entered the cabin and Willow took in her surroundings. Messy bunk beds lined the wooden walls, with clothes trailing out of different suitcases and bags. “It’s …. nice” she commented, her brows furrowed as she walked further in. A floorboard creaked from a room beside her and just as she was about to open the door, a tall blonde leaped from behind in and wailed, his tongue hanging down his chin. Willow screeched and stumbled backward as her hand went flying into him. 

“Walker what the fuck!” Bucky pushed him back as the blonde howled with laughter.

"You dipshit." Bucky boomed at the blonde, looking like was about to beat him up. 

"Woah, back up, Barnes. I was just joking around." The blonde kid named John Walker, walked off before Bucky could sucker-punch him.

"You should be careful scaring people" Willow hummed just loud enough for him to hear. 

"And why is that sweetheart?" Walker turned around as he bounded down the creaky steps to look at her. 

"We're all alone out here in the woods, you don't know what's out there that might be bigger than you" she smirked and watched the color drain from his expression. 

"That was dark," Bucky laughed over her shoulder as he tossed her duffle bag onto the bed. "should I be worried about you getting cabin fever out here?"

“Don’t worry, Bucky.” She turned back and smiled sweetly, “you’ll be safe if I go crazy, you’re too cute to die.” 

He held his hand over his heart and sighed dramatically, “Thank God! I knew my dashing looks would get me more than just a good lay one day, too bad Johnny boy!”

John gave them both a dirty look, lingering more on Willow's face as she tried to hold back a giggle before he walked away. "He's fun" Willow stated with a deadpan face as she eyed the bunk beds to try and pick a clean looking one, Bucky laughing behind her, "Yup, Johnny boy is a hoot." He added sarcastically.

Willow plopped down on the twin mattress, a small puff of dust rising from the movement. She pulled her braid of long blonde hair over her shoulder. "So...which one is yours?" she asked, "I might want a tour sometime...since you did such a great job of walking me here, I mean."

She watched as Bucky's eyes went wide for a moment before taking a step towards her, "You definitely aren't shy." he started as he leaned down to her, "Are you, sweetheart?"

“I don’t know handsome,” Willow said, standing up, pressing Bucky backward a step. “I’d say I’m just, good at getting what I want.” She glanced down at his shorts, the outline of his dick prominent, before looking back up at Bucky and winking.

His eyes went wide and she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat. He definitely wasn't expecting that. Willow has always been a little disarming, guys never expected her to be as bold as she was. Bucky blushed and stammered, water still dripping from his hair down his chest. 

"I-- you--" 

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it, sweetheart," she whispered as she gently tugged on the whistle around his neck, watching his cock get hard. Those shorts really didn't conceal anything.

Leaning in even closer, she traced one of the water droplets with her finger down his chest, stopping as she reached his stomach. Bucky couldn’t help but tense his abs as he sucked in a shaky breath. Willow dropped her eyes again and then dragged them back up to his.

“Down boy,” she whispered, lifting the corner of her mouth in a smirk.

"Fuck." he whispered before he hungrily pushed her against the wall and engulfed her lips in a hungry kiss, so carnal and raw that it shocked her a little bit. Willow leaned into him, indulging his quick, hot tempered need to have her but she wanted to have some fun with the handsome camp supervisor first. 

Willow pushed against his chest with her hand as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, "So eager." she giggled and wrapped her fingers into the rope of his whistle. "Get on the bed," she ordered. 

His wet brown hair fell into his face as she pushed him back gently with the palm of her hand. He dropped to the bed using his hands to brace himself and leaned back so he could look at her. His blue eyes were bright and wide with excitement as she stood over him. "Atta boy," she smiled, "such a good listener."

Willow tilted her head, curling a piece of hair around her finger as her gaze traveled over his body, all toned and wet and laid out just for her. Not even an hour into her camp experience and she had the hottest counselor wrapped around her little finger. God, she was good. 

“Where to start…” she hummed, eyes falling to Bucky’s cock as he eagerly tugged at the waistband of his shorts. “Uh, uh, uh. Are you gonna be good for me, Bucky?”

A whine escaped his pink lips, nodding his head as his tongue ran over them. Willow shook her head unsatisfied, "Words, baby. So let's try it again; are you gonna be good?" She whispered as she leaned over him, a single finger trailing from the dip in his throat all the way up to under his dimpled chin as she looked into his beautiful, blown-out eyes.

"So good," Bucky whispered, long lashes fluttering closed as he tilted his head down. He pressed his soft lips to the palm of her hand and butterflies erupted under Willow's skin. 

She gripped his chin, pulling him up to her mouth. The kiss was all tongue and teeth again, soft whines coming from both of them. Willow wasn't sure what was happening, but she wanted to fuck him bad.

Willow felt the warmth of his large hands wrap around her, his touch setting fire to her already burning skin as he pulled her into his lap. She could feel just how painfully hard he was with every slight movement of her hips, eliciting a soft moan to escape her lips. Bucky's body writhed beneath her, no doubt searching for any form of release. Willow nipped at his bottom lip, tugging gently as she pulled away. 

"Now, that's not behaving is it?" She asked breathlessly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bucky gasped, stilling his hips as Willow buried her hands in his hair, twisting in the strands. “Buck! You in there?” came Steve’s voice from outside, just before he burst through the door. They turned to look at him, Willow still in Bucky’s lap, his hands on her waist.

Willow jumped out of Bucky’s lap and he stood up, running his hand through his hair as Steve stumbled through the door. His eyebrows shot up and he grinned. “What’s goin’ on in here?” 

“Nothing,” Willow and Bucky replied in unison. 

“Uh-huuuuhh. Sure. Buck, we gotta prep for the campfire session tonight.” He turned to Willow and wiggled his eyebrows. “You wanna see Buckaroo chop some wood for the fire? Or did you guys wanna save the wood for after hours if you know what I’m talkin’ about?” 

“ROGERS!” Bucky shouted. He lunged at his friend as he ran out of the room giggling while Bucky sighed.

“That punk has a sixth sense, I swear,” Bucky laughed a little awkwardly. 

“Well, his timing’s not the best, I’ll give you that,” Willow grinned, “but if I get to watch you put those muscles of yours to work I guess I can take a rain check.” She stepped up to him and kissed him again, short but full of fire. “We’re gonna finish this later,” she whispered against his mouth before turning and heading out of the cabin, leaving him slack-jawed and breathless.

Willow smiled to herself as she jogged back down the path, hearing splashing and laughter in the distance. She needed a second to cool off after that little moment in the cabin. It was a warm day anyway, and the slight breeze felt good against her skin. Bucky was wrapped around her little finger, and she was excited to see exactly what he was packing in those short shorts after the campfire.

She walked out by the water and looked down at the pier, watching the rest of the counselors splash around. As she stood watching, she heard a branch snap from the woods beside her, causing her to spin quickly and peer into the dark trees. “Bucky? Is that you?” Willow called.

Her breath accelerated as she looked around to see if she could see who was there. She started shaking, more branches cracking, the sounds becoming louder.

Walker stepped out from behind a tree, a smug grin on his face. Willow rolled her eyes and shook free of the creeping feeling that crawled up her spine. 

"You look disappointed I'm still alive." He laughed. "I come in peace," he held his hands in the air and joined her on the dock. "You know I thought I recognized that pretty blonde hair," he tugged on her braid as his breath made her skin hot. "You're that Voorhees weirdo. My dad knew your mom in high school. Heard she was a…" Walker's eyes turned down, trailing over her body, "freak. Are you like your momma?"

“You know nothing, John,” Willow replied through gritted teeth, taking a step back. “And I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.” 

John laughed, leaning against a wooden post as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Or what? You’ll set out your little lapdog Bucky on me? I heard she was a feisty one too, your mom, had a temper.” He taunts.

If only you knew... She thought as flashes of her mom's flaring temper around their house crossed her mind. Rolling her eyes, Willow shook those thoughts out and pushed on her hands to get up and leave, looking down at John, "I don't need to set someone on you, I can easily do what I want on my own, use that temper. So stay the fuck away from me, Walker!" She sneered at him before walking away from his smug face, hiding her shaking hands.

"You know," he yelled to her back as she crossed the dock. "They still tell stories about what they did to her back then." Willow stopped, straightening up. She had heard the stories too. They said it's why her mom wouldn't let her go out, no going to parties. The only thing she could do was sneak in and out her bedroom window every night. She was surprised when her mom offered to bring her here, no, nearly demanded it.

Anger flared in her chest as Walker chuckled from behind her. Her hands balled into fists as she spun back around and stomped toward him. Walker just grinned, arms crossed over his chest. “My dad said your mom had a real pretty mouth on her despite her being a freak.” He sneered. “Lookin’ at you now, I can see he was right. Like mother, like daughter.” Willow’s sneakers thudded against the old wood as she paced at him, throwing up her hands and shoving him back into the lake with every ounce of strength and rage in her. 

“Willow!” Bucky’s voice echoed against the trees behind her, “What are you doing!?”

“Taking out the trash- sorry for polluting the lake,” she said, glaring down at Walker who was standing waist-deep in the lake. 

“Fuck you, Voorhees, you’re a bigger freak than your mom!” Walker sneered. Willow took a step towards him but felt a hand on her arm, holding her back.

"Hey," Bucky whispered, "he's just a prick. Don't worry about him." Willow turned around and sniffled, tears misting her eyes. Bucky smiled and wiped them away, his thumb brushing her cheekbone softly. "He's gonna get canned at the end of the summer anyway." 

"WHAT?!" Walker shouted. 

"I SAID GARGLE MY BALLSACK, WALKER!" Bucky shouted. Willow laughed and Bucky blushed, gesturing toward the area where they were setting up the campfire. "C'mon. You can supervise me, give me tips on how to chop campfire wood."

He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together as he led them towards the others. “What was he saying to get you so wound up, New Girl?” He asked softly. 

“Just stupid shit about…ghosts” she muttered in return, frowning darkly before turning a beaming smile towards him. “Anyway, enough of that dick. If you get the biggest wood pile I’ll give you a reward. Maybe s’mores, or maybe something more…” she teased.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow at her as they joined the other counselors in a small clearing. Steve gave them both a nod and a wink and Willow introduced herself to some of the others - Kate, Peter, Sam, Yelena, Scott, and Hope. Everyone was really friendly and welcoming as they planned the campfire activities. As Willow listened to Peter excitedly ramble about his favorite campfire songs, her eyes wandered to Bucky as his pile of wood grew taller. The veins in his hands bulged as they flexed around the handle of the axe. Her eyes ran up his muscular forearms, to his bulging biceps, and finally- his incredibly lean shoulders. She practically drooled as beads of sweat ran down his chiseled abs. He made eye contact with her and gave her a shit-eating grin  before he wound up and brought a powerful strike down against the block of wood. A deafening crack sang through the clearing as she imagined him splitting her open, in an entirely different way. Peter nudged an elbow into Willow’s side, hurtling her consciousness back to Earth. 

“Can you even hear me? Seems like the two of you have really bonded” he said with a wink. 

Willow blushed hard. “Yeah well, we got interrupted before we could really bond if you know what I mean.” she sighed.

Yelena’s eyes widened as she nudged Willow, “Damn new girl, you’re settling in just fine!” She commented, sending Kate and Wanda into a fit of giggles. 

“Well, he can’t seem to stop staring at you. So it looks like you’ve got yourself something fun to do for the summer.” Hope replied with a wink.

Willow chuckled and her smile widened as she thought about the prospect of spending time with Bucky. And her thoughts were fucking filthy.

She barely had the mind to see Steve wandering over. He shooed Peter away with his hand, flicking his lighter on and plunking himself down next to her. His legs straddled the massive log with ease as he stuffed his lighter away and rocked in closer so that his face was nearly touching the side of hers. "Whatcha thinking about?" He whispered, taking a puff of his cigarette. 

She turned, their eyes meeting, and gave him a wicked grin, "I'm thinking about all the ways I'm going to finish what you rudely interrupted earlier." 

Steve buckled down with laughter, his hand clutching his chest and his smoke hanging loosely from his lips, "I really fucking love this girl!" he boomed into the clearing.

She laughed along with him, her cheeks flushing from the attention his words drew to her, she felt his gaze on her body, making it prickle with goosebumps on her skin. Taking a deep breath, Willow's eyes involuntarily wandered back to Bucky as he finished stacking up the wood, making his way over to sit on her other side, they were almost caging her small frame in between them. 

"How's that for wood chopping, eh?" He leaned to whisper in her ear, a proud grin taking over his face as she turned to him, pretending to be in thought just to tease him, "I don't know," and his smile began to drop before she continued, "pretty impressive, I guess." She finished reaching her hand to wrap around his bicep, squeezing it lightly. Bucky was about to reply when all heads turned to the approaching figure, effectively silencing everyone.

Twigs snapped as a man emerged and Willow had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Steve turned his head and she could see his shoulders shake from across the fire pit. The man was wearing shorts so small it made Steve’s shorts look like capri pants. A white crop top hung loosely on his torso, adorned with not one, not two, but three whistles. "Not getting started without me, are we?" the man asked, an eyebrow cocking up as his tongue darted out to wet his mustache. Steve full-on snorted and Wanda slapped his shoulder as he wiped away a tear.

"Uh--Zemo..." Peter started with a wince, "I think you grabbed one of the girls' shorts..." The man glanced down, running long thin fingers across the dead animal currently adorning his upper lip. "No, no Parker. These are mine." Steve howled with laughter as he fell backward into the dirt, his hand across his chest while Wanda buried her face into her hands. Willow turned her head slightly to hide her own laughter into Bucky's arm. She could feel his own shoulders shaking against her skin which only made it difficult for her to stop.

“Alright, someone get this fire going, it’s time you all heard about the one they called, The Ghost,” Zemo said, clapping his hands together. Steve and Bucky set up some logs, sparking a flame with Steve’s lighter and getting a roaring fire going. “The Ghost was a regular man once, they say. Before he became what he did…” Zemo trailed off, fire crackling, everyone entranced. “He was the best of the best, no one could catch him, no one ever saw him coming, and those who didn’t live long.” Willow shuddered, despite the heat from the fire and being huddled closer to Bucky.

It was starting to get darker and Willow heard a twig snap in the distance as Zemo kept telling the story. Her heart started to race and she reached out to hold Bucky's arm as she looked around the quickly darkening forest behind them. John flashed her a shit-eating grin from the other end of the campfire. "Scared, Voorhees?" 

"Fuck off, Walker. Dumb shitbag," Steve quipped. He reached down and threw a rock, laughing as it bounced off of John's thick skull. 

"His stories are all bullshit anyway, sugar," Bucky whispered. He grinned and pulled her close to him, his hand resting on her thigh. Willow could feel the cool metal from his silver skull rings against her warm skin. Zemo blew one of his whistles and everyone around the campfire jumped. 

"Ow! Zemo, what the hell?!" Bucky shouted as everyone covered their ears. 

Zemo glared at him. "Don't be rude, Barnes."

Bucky made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat and flipped Zemo off low enough that he didn’t see but Willow and Steve did, making them both snicker. Bucky moved his hand further up her thigh squeezing gently, and she shuddered again but this time it wasn’t because of Zemo’s story. She turned her face into his neck and pressed a gentle kiss against the soft skin there and she felt the vibration of his hum on her lips. 

Zemo cleared his throat, giving them a pointed look. “As I was saying…”

Zemo continued with his story, his voice booming. The man obviously had a passion for the theatrical. The fire crackled and threw a gentle glow against everyone’s faces, captivated by the story of The Ghost. Except Willow, who was captivated by Bucky’s fingers, tracing circles against her thigh. He ducked his head down and pressed his lips ever so lightly against the side of her neck, nipping at her pulse with his teeth. She felt wetness pool in her panties and took her bottom lip between her teeth. “Zemo’s ghost stories are always a crock of shit,” he whispered in the shell of her ear. His tongue flicked against it and she stifled a moan. He squeezed her thigh again. “Why don’t we go get some more firewood?” He pushed his nose against her soft, blonde hair, inhaling deeply. “I think I know a piece of wood you’ll really like,” he growled.

Willow's breath caught in her throat, as she nodded once and almost jumped off the log they were sitting on pulling Bucky with her. She cleared her throat, “We’re uh, gonna get more firewood” she mumbled quickly. 

They made their way out into the woods, Bucky gripped her waist causing a loud giggle to escape her lips, as she spun around and pressed into a tree. “Shh angel.. no interruptions this time” Bucky hummed, capturing her lips with his.

"You promised me a piece of wood, Barnes. Now, let’s see." Willow lowered herself onto her knees. "Yes, I did." He swallowed hard as Willow made a quick way of his shorts and briefs, his cock standing to attention just for her.

"I don't know if you won the contest," she giggled, stroking the length of his shaft with the back of her forefinger. "Back at the campfire, Steve was making a compelling argument that he-" 

Bucky pulled her up and stopped her talking with a slow, hungry kiss. Taking her bottom lip between his and took his time savoring her. 

"Naughty," she huffed breathlessly and pulled her hand from his erection. "I want to hear you beg." 

"Willow," he pressed his lips to her neck in a fury, panicked and needy they stopped just below her ear. "Beg, Bucky." She whispered against his hair, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck so she could pull on the small strands around his nape.

He groaned as she pulled his head back by his hair, hissing at the sting of her pull.

She started placing small chaste kisses to his cheeks, jawline and down his neck while she taunted him with her other hand tracing figures around his hip bones. Bucky's breathing was ragged and shallow, his body twitching under her touch.

Licking a hot stripe up to his ear, Willow bit down gently before teasing him, "Come on, baby. Let me hear you."

Bucky's breath was hot on her shoulder as he huffed sharply, his body pressing her further into the bark. Willow placed a kiss on his clenched jaw as her nails raked against his cock, the swollen head now obvious against her hip. His head fell forward against the tree trunk. 

"Please,' he groaned. "Please, let me feel your mouth. Fuck I want you so bad." 

Her hand reached down between his legs, stroking him as little whines escaped his lips. His eyes were completely rolled back as he rutted his hips against her hand. 

Releasing him, she slid back down to her knees. 

"Maybe if you stay still enough, I'll let you finish," Willow whispered, looking up at his flushed face.

"Please..." He begged into the bark. 

She smiled at the melting puddle of a man standing in front of her. Twice now, Willow had reduced him down to a whimpering mess and it only made the fire in her own stomach burn brighter. 

Willow wrapped her hand around the base of his length, stroking gently as small moans slipped from his plush pink lips, his forehead still pressed against the tree. She positioned herself, raising up slightly before licking the bead of precum that had gathered on his tip. Bucky hissed at the contact which only encouraged her more as she wrapped her lips around him and began bobbing her head slowly.

Bucky was shaking, holding still as Willow swirled her tongue around the head of his dick. 

“Darlin’ please, let me come,” Bucky pleaded, voice cracking. Willow looked up at him, humming and watching his eyes roll back into his head. She pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her lips and his dick before breaking. 

“I suppose you’ve been good,” she murmured, stroking his cock. “Okay, baby, you can come, whenever you’re ready.”

Willow wrapped her lips around him and sucked on him until her cheeks hollowed out. Bucky groaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. His hips snapped and forced his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. She dug her fingernails into his thighs, hearing him groan above her. His rings clinked together as his fingers bumped into each other. Bucky began to whine, desperate and aching for her.

"Fuck, princess, that's so good. Fuck, you're gonna make me come--"

A scream echoed through the air and Willow pulled back, gasping.

"What the fuck?!"

"Nonononono!" Bucky begged, biting down on his lip. "No, please, baby, I was so close! It's just Steve fucking around out there!"

A twig snapped, echoing through the woods. Willow got to her feet and looked into the darkness, her eyes wide and frantic.

"Bucky, there's someone out there."

He tugged on her shirt gently and whimpered.

"Come on, Willow, there's nobody! Nothing happened! It's just Rogers-- HEY, STEVE! FUCK OUTTA HERE, WILL YA?"

They both paused and all Willow heard was a thick, eerie silence that seemed to fill the forest around them with dread.

A bloodcurdling scream cut through the air. High pitched, filled with fear and grief. The hair on the back of Willow’s neck immediately rose. It was coming from the campfire- and it was one of the girls. “What the fuck is happening?” she whispered, feeling a sudden chill in the air. 

“Willow- wait- maybe you could-“ Bucky pleaded as Willow grabbed his hand and ran back towards the group. Another scream as they got closer, this time from one of the guys. She hoped to God that, somewhere along the way, he’d tucked his cock back into his shorts.

Willow stopped dead in her tracks and Bucky ran directly into her back. The entire group was gathered by the fire, all shaking and crying. Zemo was crying the hardest. She followed their eyes to find Walker’s body slumped over a bench about 10 feet away, near the s’mores ingredients. His throat had been slit, and there was a hunting knife sticking out of his back. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Scott shrieked, kicking the ever-loving shit out of a nearby log.

"Walker was killed." Bucky swallowed hard, toughening his stance. Surrounding him, people screamed, and loud cries echoed through the air.

"He said he was going to the bathroom," Wanda whimpered from where Yelena held her an arm's length away from Walker's dead body. "And then he stumbled back out of the forest like that."

"Where's Rogers?" Bucky asked his hand around Willow's in a vice grip. Peter shrugged, just trying to console a hysterical Zemo. 

"I'm right fucking here," He barked. He walked into the light of the raging campfire, a hot pink bandana tied into his long blonde hair, and war paint smudged across his cheeks. He pumped a shotgun with one hand as he stomped toward the axe and pulled it from the wood effortlessly. "Here, take this. There's something, or someone hunting us," he tossed the axe in Bucky's direction before kneeling next to the dead body.

It nearly smacked the camp supervisor in the face but Willow caught it in her palm and twirled it in her hands. 

"That was really hot," Steve paused to look at her with playful consideration as he gripped Walkers hair and yanked his lifeless head up. "Definitely a someone," He said looking at the rough knife cut across John's pale throat. Peter puked at the sight of the blood to the left of Zemo, every marshmallow in his body tumbling to the ground violently.

Scrunching up her face in disgust, Willow slapped his hand off of Walker's head, "Stop that! I don't know what's more disgusting; the blood or the vomit." She yelled at Steve as her eyes traveled across everyone's scared faces.

Bucky had collected himself enough that he was now ushering the kids away from the sight of John's body with Wanda helping him.

"Look," Willow called out to get everyone's attention, "We need to know what the hell is going on here!" As a few people nodded their agreement.

"Just get everyone inside and then we can re-group and maybe search for whoever did this" Willow ordered her fellow counselors as she glanced back at the dead body, the sight of blood trailing down the pale skin making her skin crawl.

Willow turned away from the sight of John's limp body on the ground and back to the group of counsellors that were still huddled together. Bucky made his way back to her, following her eyeline.

"Hey! You heard her! Get the kids inside the mess hall!" His voice boomed through the thick night air, his hands now on his hips. They watched Peter usher Zemo inside while Wanda and Kate gathered the rest of the kids.

She turned to him, "We need to find out if anyone else went missing besides us and John during Zemo's story."

Bucky's brows furrowed, bright blue eyes meeting his. "You think someone here at Camp did this?" He asked, pointing to John.

Steve huffed as he stood, "Bucky's right... John was an asshole but no one here hated him that much."

She ran a hand over her face with a shrug. "The camp is pretty secluded though. Whoever did this is either here or some psycho hunting down teenagers in the woods for fun.”

“Ain’t that a happy thought,” Bucky muttered, swiping a hand through his hair. 

“Well, you and Buck were the only ones I saw leave, so I’m betting on the psycho. Let’s get inside and break into teams, search the camp until we find them,” Steve said firmly, grip shifting on his shotgun.

“As long as no one is alone and someone stays to watch the kids,” Willow added, Bucky nodding along.

Willow, Steve, and Bucky headed into the camp counselor office.

Steve grabbed a baseball bat from the corner and tossed it to Bucky, who caught it with ease. Willow glanced over at him and he grinned, despite the fear in his eyes.

A knock at the door startled the three of them. Bucky jumped the highest, a loud squeak spilling from his mouth. They could see the shadow of feet underneath the door. Willow gripped her axe tightly, and Bucky held his bat up even higher over his head, ready to strike as Steve inched toward the door.

"Whoever that is, better be ready to answer me or I'm gonna blow your fuckin' head off!" Steve shouted.

"It's me and Scott!" Peter shouted. "Zemo and the girls are with the kids, we came to help!"

The three of them sighed and Steve wrenched open the door. Bucky and Steve yanked Peter and Scott inside by their collars.

"Are you fucking crazy?! There's a psycho out there!" Bucky hissed. He looked down at Scott. "What the hell is that?"

"A wiffle bat," Scott replied.

"It's fucking plastic, dude!" Bucky sighed.

"WELL, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT THAT?!"

"Hang on," Steve mumbled as he searched in a closet.

He tossed Scott a crowbar. Peter had a large kitchen knife in his hand.

"We'll go left near the woods, and you guys go the other way near the beach," Steve told them.

They nodded and the five of them burst out of the camp counselor office. Peter and Scott sprinted toward the beach. They heard another branch crack near the forest and Steve sprinted toward it, going full Rambo as he cocked the shotgun.

"ROGERS!" Bucky called. "Fuck, I'm going after him."

He sprinted off toward his friend.

"BUCKY!" Willow screamed and Bucky grinned as he jogged backward.

"I'LL BE RIGHT BACK!"

“For fuck sakes.. HAVE NEITHER OF YOU SEEN A HORROR MOVIE!?” Willow called after them, clear frustration and fear coming through in her voice.

Willow groaned and stood there for a moment, before jogging slowly in their direction. There was no way she was standing there in the dark woods by herself. Not like this.

When she finally spied them in the trees again, she slowed to a fast walk throwing her arms in the air.

“What the hell was that abo-…” her words were cut off as she tripped over what she assumed was a log and fell to the ground. “Ow fuck!” She groaned, Bucky and Steve jogging over to help her up.

Willow rolled to the side and managed to pull herself to her knees as she wiped her hands together, feeling something wet and sticky covering them.

Bucky knelt in front of her, "are you ok?" he asked. "Oh fuck," he swore before she had time to tell him that her ankle was sore and knees scraped.

"What is that?" She whispered.

"Who..." Steve huffed, "it's Hope."

Willow sat up on her knees, forcing the nausea down when she realized that she was covered in the dead girl's blood. Her shirt was hanging ripped from her bloody body and her chest was cleaved open with a large, rib splitting wound down the center.

"What the hell could have done that?" Bucky helped Willow from the ground, sweeping the leaves and moss from her body.

Steve lifted his shot gun as another twig snapped in the distance, "I don't fucking know man but whatever it is, whoever it is. They're stalking us."

Willow's whole body was shaking uncontrollably, for all the bravado she had, being covered in someone else's blood was enough to make her scared.

She held onto the boys as they checked her over, halting their movements as she grabbed their hands.

"We can't split up, it's not safe" she tugged on Steve's arm as he was about to head off in a random direction in the dark, he was shaking too, his eyes wide.

"But we need to find whoever is doing this," Bucky started, not willing to give up and wait to be killed off too. Willow nodded, looking determintally at him, blood was covering most of his arms due to him helping her up.

"And we will.. we will jus-" she was abruptly cut off by a scream sounding somewhere around them, making them instantly rush back towards the camp, armed and hoping to all they're on the right trail.

"STICK TOGETHER!" Willow screamed at them.

The boys ran slightly ahead of her as she tried everything to ignore the stinging sensation her ankle was currently shooting up her leg.

Bucky and Steve both came to a halt in the center of the clearing. Steve promptly raised his shotgun as Bucky turned back, reaching his hand out for Willow as she caught up to them. "What is it?" She asked, stepping from around the two towering men.

"Zemo?" Steve's voice cut through the deafening silence. A gasp left Willow's lips as Zemo turned to them, Scott's limp body falling to the grass below his feet.

"Welcome back kids!" Zemo's voice sang through the air, his crop top completely covered in blood and the kitchen knife Peter had was hanging in his right hand. His toothy grin glistened in the moonlight, sending a chill over Willow's body as she gripped the axe tighter. "Did you like my scavenger hunt?"

“What the fuck? You killed them for a- for a fucking game?” Willow asked, taking a step forwards in anger, Bucky trying to pull her back.

“You think I killed them?” Zemo laughed, it turning hysterical as he stared at Willow. “Wait’ll you see-“

Zemo stopped talking suddenly, and a trail of blood formed at the corner of his mouth before his body slumped to the ground, a hatchet sticking out of his back.

The moon came out from behind the clouds, illuminating the person behind Zemo.

Willow shook and Steve pointed the gun at the figure who stepped into the light, a large knife in one hand. Wind rustled through the trees and Willow kept waiting for someone else to step out of the shadows. They were wearing a burlap sac over their head and turned to face Willow. Her heart leapt into her throat and Bucky stepped forward to protect her.

"Hello, dear," an extremely familiar voice rang out through the dead silence. "I just couldn't stay away from here after all these years!"

Willow's eyes went wide as the killer ripped off the mask to reveal her mother's smiling face staring at her, eyes black like a shark's, and hollow.

"What the fuck..." Steve whispered.

A sinister cackle came from her mothers lips, as she tossed Peter's severed head to the ground. “Willow dear, I have to thank you. If it wasn’t for you getting this job, none of this would have been possible”

Willow stood, frozen as she stared, unsure if she was going to vomit or burst into tears. This couldn’t be her mother. No, this was some imposter or shapeshifting monster. Her mother could never.

“No…” was all she managed to whisper.

“What the fuck…” Steve spoke a little louder.

Bucky ripped the gun from Steve’s hand and cocked it as he took a few steps forward and pointed it at the killer.

“Bucky no!!” Willow begged “please.. give her a chance to explain.. there has to be something.. I can’t just let you..”

“I knew you’d always protect me, kitten” her mother smirked as she twirled the knife around.

Bucky turned the shotgun on Willow, "are you in on this?"

She couldn't even think let alone process what Bucky was accusing her off. Why was her mother here? What connections to this camp could she possibly have that would drive her to murder teenagers?

"Drop the weapon pretty boy," her mother laughed. "Willow has no idea, look at her. I didn't raise an idiot," her mother snapped and came to stand over Zemo's lifeless body. "I came to make things right. This camp used to be the only safe place in my life," she swung the knife around in the air wildly as she spoke.

Willow didn't recognize this person, whoever her mother had become in the shadows was sick and tormented. This was not her mother.

Bucky spun the gun back on her mother, unsure where to point in the chaos. "What the hell are you talking about?" he snapped at her.

"The handsome ones are always the most dangerous," her mother rolled her eyes.

"Bucky isn't like that," Willow argued, stepping forward with her axe still gripped in her shaky hands.

"Bucky isn't like that," her mother mocked. "What, you sucked his dick and now you're an expert on his personality? I'm doing this for us."

"What do you mean for us?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS MOM?" Willow questioned the woman standing in front of her, trying to steady the axe in her hand as she tried to step closer to her. Tears were filling her eyes and making her vision blurry.

Bucky's arm shot out to stop her, the shot gun trained on her mom and his eyes too while Steve shouted at her, "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" his eyes running from Willow's face to her mom's. Anger and betrayal written all over his face.

"I'M GETTING TO YOU!" Her mother screeched, pointing the knife at Steve. "All of you boys are the same. Just like your Fathers," Her mother seethed. "Stupid, arrogant and only looking for pussy and the moment you don't get it, you turn mean and cruel."

Willow pushed against Bucky's hand, against his own protests. "What are you talking about!" Her voice shaky.

"John Walker Senior and his band of assholes including your father," She moved the knife towards Bucky, who raised the shotgun a little bit higher, "and your father." Her mother trained the knife back onto Steve. "They ruined this place for me. Got me fired all because I refused--'' Her voice cut off from the anger seeping from her pores. Even in the dim moonlight, Willow was losing sight of the woman standing in front of her. It wasn't her mother, it was something much darker.

“They all think they’re so safe, so comfortable in the power they hold over others. Who’d have ever suspected that their children would die gruesome, horrible deaths.” Willow’s mom took a step towards them and Steve hefted the gun at her head.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled, and Willow’s mom sighed, looking to her.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being around assholes like this?” she asked, and Willow shook her head in disbelief.

"Mom, you're not thinking clearly--"

Her mother cut her off with a cackle that echoed through the air and made the three of them shudder. She smiled, taking a step toward Steve as she looked him up and down.

"Oh, don't you worry about me, sweetheart. I'm thinking just fine." She paused and trained those black, empty eyes that Willow no longer recognized on Steve's face. "I'll tell you what, Rogers. I'll let you choose how you die."

Steve's gun was trembling in his hands and Willow's mother took another step toward him, a psychotic and malicious grin spreading across her face.

"What's the matter, Rogers? Scared?"

“Of you?” He scoffed, and swallowed thickly, trying to put on a brave face. “Only cowards kill for reve-…”

Willow's mother lunged forward, slamming the knife between Steve’s ribs and twisting upwards, a wide smirk on her face as she watched the tall, broad man gurgle blood before his knees collapsed below him.

In the heat of the moment, Bucky pulled the trigger, hitting Willows mother throw the eye socket. Her limp body fell into the dirt, as Bucky threw the gun and collapsed on the ground, cradling Steve’s head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey … look at me Rogers, you’re okay” Bucky pleaded. “You have to be okay..”

Steve brought his hand up to Bucky's chest and smiled weakly at him, “… til the end of the line, pal” He whispered, as his head fell backwards and his body went limp.

A sob tore from Bucky's throat as Willow stood frozen in place, "Buck," she whispered through her tears.

His head snapped to where her mother had collapsed in the dirt, only her body was gone and only a thick pool of blood was left in her absence. "The lake," Bucky looked back to her, his eyes red and jaw tense. "There's canoes on the shore we can reach help."

"The kids, they're in the dining hall," Willow wasn't even sure how she was speaking, time felt sluggish and weird. Her mother had killed so many people. She looked down at the blood on her hands and blinked the tears from her sore eyes. The blood of your friends drawn from the blood of your kin she thought as her eyes drifted to the pool of blood left from her mother.

Bucky was standing now, tying Steve's bloody bandana around his wrist and checking his pockets for shotgun ammo. He marched over to her, covered in so much blood, streaks from where he had wiped the tears from his bloodshot eyes left on his cheeks. He pressed a hand to her face and forced her to look at him, "she's not after the kids, she's after you and me. We have to get to the lake."

Willow instinctively leaned into his touch, closing her eyes to take a steadying deep breath. She could feel Bucky's thumb rubbing gently across her cheekbone and as she opened her eyes he tilted his head down, to catch her gaze. "We're gonna get out of this...okay? Come on." He said and she knew that he was mustering up any ounce of courage he had left in him.

"Okay." She whispered as his hand dropped from her cheek, grasping hers and leading her towards the lakeshore.

They grabbed a canoe, dragging it into the water, hopping in and picking up the paddles. Bucky was in the back of the canoe, steering them away from the dock, deeper into the lake. When they were far enough away from shore, Willow stopped paddling, carefully turning around to face Bucky.

They sat for a moment in the stillness, then Willow said, “Did that really just happen? Tell me I’m wrong and my mother didn’t just go psychotic and kill nearly everyone. Tell me it’s gonna be okay, tell me- tell me…” Willow was getting more worked up by the minute.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay, we’re okay, we’ll be okay,” Bucky murmured, leaning forwards and cradling Willow’s face in his hands.

"I feel like I should be comforting you," she breathed.

Her eyes welled up with tears, mixing with the sweat, blood and dirt that had gathered on her face.

"You must hate me, Bucky."

Bucky shook his head.

"You didn't know, Willow. It's not your fault that your mom was a total psycho."

She began to cry and Bucky put his canoe paddle inside, next to him, grabbing hers to keep it from slipping into the water. He cupped her face in his hands again and smiled.

"We made it, right? That's all that matters."

She let out a broken sob, unable to control it anymore.

"I'm so sorry."

Bucky stared at her, his bright eyes searching hers. He was on the verge of tears. He just lost everyone, and he was still trying to be brave for her. He cleared his throat.

"You don't have to be sorry. Just kiss me."

Willow sniffled and moved forward, rocking the canoe, but they didn’t seem to care. She captured his lips hard and desperate, combing her bloodied hands into Buckys hair. 

He moaned against her lips and placed his hands on her ribs, gripping her skin to keep her steady. 

Her lips parted and their tongues jammed together, a mess of saliva, sweat and others blood mixing between them. 

“Fuck Bucky..” Willowed whined, tugging on his hair and making him groan against her lips.

"We're gonna be okay," he pulled away from her and peppered her bloody face with rabid kisses. His hands gripped her tightly and slid her to the edge of her wooden seat until she was completely wrapped in his legs. "I'm going to get you out of this," he tangled his hands into her hair and pulled her against his lips.

Willow whined, kissing him back as her fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss was messy and this was definitely not how she wanted to spend the start of her summer but being in this canoe with her lips locked to his, the feeling of safety began to wash over her.

She pulled away, pressing her forehead to his, their chests heaving, "Please don't leave me." Willow whispered, her voice still shaky and her confidence and bravado completely gone at this point.

“I’m not going anywhere, I told you, we’re making it out of this,” Bucky said, pressing his lips to hers again before pulling away. “We’re safe out here, I promise.”

As the words left his lips, a body popped out of the water and a haunting howl echoed through the night, piercing their ears. Willow and Bucky screamed as a hand reached out and tried to pull the canoe over.

It took Willow a few seconds to realize that it was her mother with a large bloody bullet wound in her eye and her mouth agape in a desperate, furious cry. Bucky grabbed a paddle in both hands and held it like a spear.

"GO TO HELL!" He roared as he jammed the canoe handle into her mother's eye socket.

Another howl, but this time it was one of pain. She kept trying to grasp onto the edge of the canoe and Bucky snarled as Willow picked up her own paddle. They had to end this. As terrified as she was in that moment, she knew what they had to do. 

Willow began to slam the paddle against her mother's skull, watching blood and bone fly into the water. Bucky pulled the paddle from her eye socket. Her fingers were still holding on to the edge.

"THIS IS FOR STEVE, YOU FUCKING BITCH!"

He turned the handle around and jammed it into her neck. Willow watched in horror as her mother's head was severed from her body, sinking into the water. The pruny fingers that gripped the canoe slid off of the wood and the body disappeared into the black water below.

Bucky and Willow stared into the water, breathing hard, their paddles and faces covered in blood. It was all over the canoe, too.

"We have to get the fuck out of here," he whispered. He grabbed Willow's hand. "I'm not gonna leave you. Okay? I promise."

She nodded and Bucky kissed her again before they plunked themselves down and began to paddle as hard as they could until they reached the other side of the lake. She could see police lights, and she knew they were going to make it out of here together.

It was over.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The last thing we need is for Y/N to go feral- XD Anyway, can I ask for some headcanons where Malleus, Rook, Vil, Silver, and Trey have to take care of their fem s/o after she turns into an actual cat please (lab accident, or spell gone wrong)? Thank you!

You can read S/O goes feral/acts like a wild animal headcanons here!

Curiouser and Curiouser...

... Honestly, with how powerful of a magician Malleus is, he could restore you to your usual human form right away The only reason he doesn’t is because you tell him you want to see what life is like as a cat. Your wish surprises him, but he respects your desire and allows you to do as you please until you are ready to return. That whimsy of yours never ceases to amuse him.

Night time strolls are a staple! You faithfully follow Malleus as he traverses the camps in the evenings, sometimes scampering ahead to lead the way through the darkness. Your eager attitude never fails to draw a chuckle from him as he allows his partner to guide him, just as much as he guides you.

Malleus likes to keep you resting in his lap during meetings (well, the ones they remember to invite him to). Because of his overwhelming aura, he has scared off a few mob students that walked in and saw him menacingly stroking a cat in his lap while listening in on a briefing. Malleus unintentionally gives off the vibes of a James Bond villain--

For your food, Malleus personally roasts your meat for you in his magical green flames. It’s a little act of love meant to add a bit of flare and pizzazz to your meals!

There’s a game you like playing together, similar to how you’d play with a cat and a laser pointer pen back home. In a dimly lit location, Malleus will summon his little green fairy lights, and it’s your job to try and catch them all as fast as you can!

Rook decides to let you run loose!! Night Raven College is your new hunting grounds—and your playground—to enjoy! He’ll follow you close behind, just to keep a watchful eye as you explore in your new body.

You bet he brings his camera with him to tail you. Rook can’t miss out on this rare opportunity to catch come pictures of you chasing butterflies and pawing at his pant leg to get his attention. Moments like these need to be captured on film so you can one day look back on this time and reminisce!

Oh, Rook adores how your fur tousles and fluffs up when you run about! He loves ruffling your fur up himself just as much, and makes sure to get in a good head pat, kiss, or tickle in whenever he can~

This man is savage. He straight up harpoons fish or shoots wild field mice and, on one knee, offers them to you as fresh food or “tokens of his undying affection”.

No one messes with you while you’re out exploring (mostly because Rook sneaks up behind them with a murderous smile to prevent them from raining on your parade). It’s a taste of freedom you haven’t had in a while, and you get to enjoy every second of it thanks to your guardian huntsman watching you from both near and afar.

Vil’s determined to safeguard you and not let you out of his sight until you return to normal. In fact, he picks out a hand bag that’s just the right size for you to fit in, and brings you with him to class and to his various acting and modeling gigs!

Nothing but the best for you, no matter what your form. Vil ensures that the production assistants on set fetch you healthy but nutritious and high quality meals, and crisp, clean water to drink.

He prepares a special litter box for you that is styled like a canopy bed with curtains. Vil thinks it is unseemly to “use the facilities” so openly, so he specifically chose a design that comes with opaque curtains. That way, you can step in and use the litter box discreetly.

He pampers you from head to claw! Just because you’re a cat doesn’t mean his darling shouldn’t look their best. Vil will wash you, dry you off, brush your fur, and file your nails to perfection. You’ll look like you just came off the cat walk when he’s done with you!

After a long, hard day, Vil embraces you and mutters his grievances into your fur. He finds comfort in your soft, small form, finding that you’re so much more well-mannered and behaved than Leona “brutish wild cats”.

Silver likes keeping you close to him at all times--specifically, close to his chest. He likes the feeling of having something small, fuzzy, and warm near and dear to his heart... but he has to be careful when he’s holding you, because he tends to fall asleep when he gets that comfortable!

He doesn’t trust anything that Lilia whips up for you. Silver marches straight off to the Mystery Shop to purchase some premium canned tuna for you because he knows it’s safe from being tainted by his dad.

He makes sure you get your exercise in by playing with you! That could mean joining him for a jog, or batting a teaser as Silver swings it around. Sometimes you get so into it that you completely miss the toy and pounce on him instead, and you both end up tumbling into the grass, laughing.

Not all days are high energy, though. Silver has times when he just wants to be lazy and relax with you. He’ll scout out a shaded area underneath a tree with a perfect sun spot not too far off for you--and there you’ll be parked for the rest of the afternoon, soaking up the mild weather.

Silver loves soft and fluffy things, so he’s always patting or squishing you in some way or another. He especially likes to nuzzle his face against yours and squeeze your little jelly bean paws... It’s so therapeutic!

First thing’s first, Trey’s clearing the kitchen and the immediate vicinity of foods that cats can’t eat. That means grapes, chocolates, onions, garlic... He doesn’t want you getting sick or hurt!

Trey’s not as good at cooking as he is at baking—but he knows enough to throw together some raw fish and spices to make a special tuna tartare (garnished with a basil leaf). He uses his handy-dandy food processor for the job while you sit at his side, waiting for the tuna to finish churning. It’s adorable watching your ears and nose twitch in anticipation!

After you’re done eating, Trey helps you brush and floss your teeth. He’s not exactly sure if cats need to take care of their dental hygiene to the same extent as humans, but it’s better safe than sorry!

When you’re indoors, Trey follows you around with a lint roller or a vacuum cleaner to clean up any stray cat hairs. He also keeps you away from curtains and furniture--anything that could be damaged by your claws! Riddle would throw a fit if you damaged anything!

Trey fusses over you as his dorm members attempt to get a head pat, cuddle, or a selfie in with your cute kitty self! He claims it’s because they’re causing you trouble, and while that’s true, he’s not being entirely truthful, either. He’s actually a little jealous that he has to share you, too!