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violenteconomics · 2 days ago

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for cater diamond, it starts like this:

cater diamond is made up of lies.

his hair and outfit are designed to give off an air of carefreeness, even when his heart is tearing his chest into ribbons, perfectly planned down to the tiniest wrinkle. he runs all of his words through his head over and over before he says them, navigating every interaction like he's trying to get the perfect run in a video game (and idia would probably appreciate that metaphor if he heard it, maybe cater should bring it up to him, see how it makes him tick—). even his smile has been meticulously manufactured, every little twitch and idiosyncrasy based on the influencers he sees on magicam.

not that anybody really knows about any of this, of course. he's a professional, after all.

all of that to say that cater is a good liar. a great one, even.

one day, ace walks into the kitchen with serious bed-head, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

cater is leaning against the kitchen counter (looking just ruffled enough to appear as if he's just woken up, but still put-together enough to keep up the chill senior persona he's spent the better part of two years cultivating — a look he's mastered after watching the first ten seconds of neige's "morning routine!" video on loop) when he sees the red-head shambling in.

he smirks (corner of his lips tilted 42 degrees up, eyebrows slanted approximately 12 degrees down) and leans his head against his hand. "what's up, sleeping beauty?"

"good mornin', senior," ace grumbles, sounding way too pissed off to actually mean it.

that's what cater likes the most about ace and deuce. they don't feel the need to mask as much as everybody else does in this school. if they have feelings, they'll let you know it almost immediately — ruthlessly in acey's case, and involuntarily in deucey's case. either way, it's kind of cute.

and refreshing. even cater, social butterfly extraordinare, gets tired of analyzing every little bit of somebody's mood and personality and conversational style, in attempt to weaponize them as he tries to achieve the perfect outcome everytime he talks to someone. after two whole years of trying not to trip over any of riddle's landmines (which were actually just his hundreds upon hundreds of trauma responses, as it turns out), cater would've sworn off talking to anybody for the rest of ever if he weren't more of an expert at deceit than that.

it's easy to talk to ace and deuce, comparatively. if they have an opinion, they make it known, even if it's not night raven college-approved. they don't care about what anybody else thinks. for someone who cares about what everyone thinks at all times with no limits on when, where, or who, it's certainly a novelty.

they're different — but cater likes that. they're emotional. they're understanding. they're great underclassmen, even if they don't realize that (and probably never will, because cater's definitely not gonna say anything about it).

cater scrolls through the "#diybreakfast" tag on magicam to hunt for a cute breakfast place he could snap pics of for some more views. "so how'd'ya sleep? deuce didn't try to wrap you up in his 24/7 study sesh, did he?"

ace puts a hand on the back of his neck and groans. "i slept fine. kept waking up because of deuce's loud-ass chewing, though. seriously, who is that noisy when they're eating blueberries?"

cater laughs and pretends the conversation is over.

pretends he didn't notice the way ace hesitated for the briefest of moments before answering cater's simple question.

pretends he didn't notice the way ace rubbed his neck a little too hard to be casual, as if cater didn't use to have that exact same habit whenever riddle took his collar off of him.

pretends he didn't notice the tiny stutter in ace's "i slept fine".

(pretends he didn't say the exact same words, practically verbatim, every time trey asked him if he slept well during their second year at night raven college.)

(because he's supposed to be the unbothered one. he might actually crumble into a pile of misery if he has to let go of that idea.)

(maybe it's the same for ace, too.)

(it might be fake strength, but it's something to hold onto, nevertheless.)

because nobody else would've noticed that. nobody else craves validation so much to even bother. so if he's pretending to be cool and self-assured and confident and everything else that he's not, why would cater?

"damn it, we're out of cereal." ace groans, slamming the pantry door shut with a bit too much force.

the worst thing about being a great liar?

it's incredibly sobering when you meet someone who is almost as good as you.

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)

#anything 4 u baby #twisted wonderland #twst #twst first years #generational trauma #ace trappola #cater diamond #deuce spade #(mentioned)

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silk-flower · 1 day ago

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i luv your james fic!! You did so guud 💜

if it is not to much work could I request some james sweet smut hcs (。/// 。)

may i also be purple heart anon?

James Sunderland hc's [18+]

status: headcanons, requested by 💜 anon

content warning: female reader [?], smut, pretty self-explanatory, fluff, men crying, established relationship

author's note: Thank you so much, and more fics are coming, so stay tuned ;-) This is based on Silent Hill 2 Remake James, as I haven't played the original game (I am planning on it, though). Wanted to write this since long ago. I hope you'll enjoy it under the cut.

Even if James is extremely repressed, he seems like the type of person who would never have a one-night stand. He will only stay the night with you if he is already in love with you and hopes for more or if you are in a committed relationship. In addition to sex, it's a unique and intimate experience for him.

It has to be in a comfortable setting, preferably your bedroom, as you get ready for sleep or when you both are toasty and warm on your couch. He'll be enticed by you either way, but I think something like a babydoll nightgown, a short silk slip or simply a top with only panties on would make his head spin, he wouldn't even be able to look you in the eyes at first. It's driving him nuts that he can't tell if you're attempting to woo him or are truly that naive. Either way, you're succeeding, your visage of innocent femininity striking a fire within him.

ー What's... What are you wearing?;

ー No, I know it's a gown. It's not that I don't like it, it's just... It's transparent.

ー It is supposed to be?

Years of self-preservation took their toll, and even small things like his hand creeping under the sheer fabric to brush your thigh and gentle, wet open-mouth kisses make him all hot and bothered. The hotness of your skin and your soft breaths of pleasure make him dizzy, and he'll be leaking from the tip even before he slips his fingers into you. You won't be even touching him yet, and he'd be rock hard and hurting under his pants just after ten minutes of foreplay.

Not too small or too big, just perfect to fit into your hand, growing more girty as you jerk him. A nice 5-6 inches with a pretty pink flushed head that is just asking to be kissed.

Because he fears scaring you away with his immense desire and partially believes that what he is doing is wrong or too soon, he exhibits a great deal of self-loathing and chastity. Can't help but hesitate the first time you're together, I imagine he'd be really eager to make love to you but will need constant reassurance. Yes, you're ready, no, he's not hurting you, of course you want him, and so on. Will be checking on your facial expressions for any pain or discomfort and asking if you feel good every few minutes, even if you're nearly begging for him.

Likes to give you a sorf of a full body "massage," and when he offers, you know instantly what it means. His slender fingers are so gentle and sensual while groping and slipping into you that it has you writhing under him. His tongue and hands don't leave you for even a minute, and the foreplay is quite lengthy. Sometimes, he can be a little selfish and tease you a bit more just to see your sobbing face.

He'll be kissing your lips, face, neck, and shoulders like he's starved the moment he's inside of you. He wants you to feel loved, but he can't help but be lustful for you, so he greedily sucks and grabs anything he can get his hands on. He imagined this more times than he'd like to admit when he fisted his length in the middle of the night, but the real you is so much better.

His own sweet spot is skin behind his ears, and he will get loud if you kitten lick or bite his earlobe while in the heat of the moment. He feels like he has to maintain this strong man upfront for you, so he's not very vocal usually, but his ears are his erogenous zone. He'll let out low, pathetic whines, and his hips will stutter roughly into you, so you'll know he's sensitive there. (The exact sounds he makes in the game when he sprints too fast or is hit hard by an enemy and cries out.)

I wouldn't say he's overly serious when it comes to intimacy; I think he might occasionally crack a joke or chuckle, but most of the time he's just unable to concentrate on anything but you. In his mind, it's just white noise. He can be so engrossed in his pleasure with you that he won't likely hear you if you ask him a question.

ー Uh, I... Mhmmm... S-sorry, what... What did you say again?

Gets all whiny and apologetic when he's close because he doesn't have a lot of stamina after all those years being alone. Starts blabbering as he gets too lost in your warmth and tightness, the words coming out on their own.

ー You're so beautiful, sweetheart, you feel so good;

ー You look so cute right now... I wish you could see yourself the way I do... Fuck...;

ー I love you, I love you, I'm so sorry, I ー !

He will pound you into the mattress and sob while clutching your hands if you put your face in his, stare into his eyes, and tell him just how much you love him. Trembles throughout and for a few minutes after his orgasm, tears streaking his face while blanketing you with his body.

Once he gets more accustomed to you, he doesn't mind pleasuring you in the shower as you wash each other or taking you on the kitchen counter when he gets a sudden urge after watching you bend over the stove. It's mostly sweet and sensual domestic bliss sex that leaves you both completely breathless.

You will often find him face between your legs in the morning, begging to go down on you, because he gets off to your pleasure than he does to his own.

This man can't support dirty talk at all. He could try if you ask but will probably end up embarrassing himself or making you laugh. Or ruining the mood. Or all at once.

ー Honey, I'm sorry, I can't call you that... No, I know it's pretend, I just can't. It sounds filthy, and you are my... Hey, what's so funny?

His favorite positions are the ones where he can see you face and hold you or kiss you. Loves skin on skin contact, missionary, and cow girl being his favorite. Bites his lips and closes his eyes while completely relaxing during the later as you ride his cock, and lets out strained breathy gasps.

James is the best with aftercare. Will bring you everything you need, food, something to drink, a warm wet towel to clean you up, and wipe you himself. Will tuck you under a blanket and cuddle you at least for an hour before walking you to shower, helping you bathe and generally taking care of you.

Bonus:

His top secret fantasy is recording. You get what I mean. He wants to make your own personal sex tape that you can watch together or when you're not around, and he misses you. He will never bring it up because he thinks you'll find him gross, but if you ever mention it, he'll turn into a sweaty mess (he'd be definitely up for it, though).

#silk writings #james sunderland #silent hill 2 remake #silent hill #silent hill 2 #james sunderland x reader #james sunderland x you #silent hill x reader

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shurisneakers · 5 hours ago

Text

unsolved (vii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the paranormal.

A/N: hello. i am late again. i almost gave up but we are here. for better or for worse. i will most likely go back ad edit the second half again ok love u guys mwahmwah

Previous part || Series masterlist

Only after hours, nay, a full day of hunching over his desk, eyes red-rimmed and burning, four crushed cans of energy drinks next to him lending to him the nervous energy of a chihuahua, Bucky realises that there’s no beating it.

He absentmindedly takes another sip of the RedBull, flinching when the taste registers. Either he’d reached his threshold or the medicine flavour had begun morphing into something else entirely. The caffeine didn’t even work on him, so really, he was just placebo-ing himself into having energy.

Every site he’s visited has had a vastly different interpretation; ones that don't match what he thinks has been happening, or the context past his past provides. Others are simply blatantly wrong based on the additional research he, in his infinite wisdom and totally accurate self-assessment tendencies, has been gathering in the last 3 days.

The Star. Six of Cups. The Hanged Man.

Bucky knows he could ask someone in real life about this, someone who possibly had more experience than a simple website whose code broke every time he tried to scroll to the bottom. However, that would mean that he had to tell them his dead sister was probably haunting him out of her spite and hatred for the very fibres of his being.

Also, Bucky may be haunted by his dead relatives, but he’s not haunted enough to actually leave his room over it.

Video consultations were also an option, but he’s convinced that if word got out that Bucky Barnes was half-convinced ghosts were following him around, it would make headlines for a mighty long week.

Therefore, he resorts to shady, online websites that demand he pay up before giving him the results of the readings they’ve done for him.

The “lady” that he paid to talk to using Steve’s credit card on mistytarot.com types for a very long time before a message comes through.

The thought bubble disappears for another half an hour, and Bucky thinks hat either she is a complete scam, or it’s run by someone who is about as technologically proficient as Steve was.

But a message does in fact come through, and it’s enough to have him be covninced that the 20 bucks he blew on Steve’s card was worth it.

Lady Lilia

Considering that you think you’re being haunted, The Star could represent the absence of hope. Do you feel like you’re being trapped in darkness? As if you are being abandoned by the universe and with no room for healing?

B. Barneswell i forgot about it until now

Lady Lilia If your sister passed away a long time ago, the reason The Six of Cups may have presented itself is because you may be feeling like you're ensnared in the past, constantly reliving moments that hurt or confuse you, rather than finding peace.

A frown grows on his face.

Lady Lilia If you’re haunted by a person who used to be in your life and it is reminding you of past mistakes, The Hanged Man could be because feel like you're stuck in a cycle of stagnation, unable to move forward, as if these spirits are keeping you suspended in a state of emotional paralysis.

However, if the cards were upright–

Bucky slams the laptop shut, inhaling and exhaling sharply through his nose.

From the corner of his eye, his phone lights up with the fifth missed call in the last ten minutes, but considering that he keeps that thing on silent, he never even noticed.

Shoving aside whatever he may be thinking for the moment, he checks the caller ID, only for feelings of confusion and despair to be immediately replaced with annoyance, or disgust even.

He calls back anyway, preparing for the worst.

“Did you drink all my RedBull?” Clint booms the second he picks up.

“No,” Bucky lies smoothly.

“Fucker, I know it was you. Pay me back. With interest.”

“No.”

Clint switches to whining. “You know I need that shit to stay awake at night. Some of us don’t have superhero cocaine in our system.”

“I don’t care, go to sleep at a normal hour.”

“Say, did you drink every last one?” Clint instantly switches to a curious tone for a second. “Because one of them’s not like the others.”

Bucky looks at the cans that littered his bedroom floor. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you what it is over the phone.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say it’s not exactly allowed in the country, but–”

Bucky cuts the call and tosses it onto the bed.

He runs a hand through his hair, softly exhaling while contemplating whether or not to continue the chat. Steve wouldn’t miss another 20 dollars, he had the wealth of a small prince with all that army back pay bullshit. In fact, Steve should ideally be funding more of Bucky’s endeavours.

There comes a knock at his door.

Bucky immediately leaps off the bed, sprinting to the door, because he fuckin knows that knock, goddamn it–

He throws open the door before you get the chance to full body slam against it.

“Oh.” You blink, relaxing away from your stance. “Hey. How’d you know–”

“You do this every week,” he breaks in. “You do this multiple times a day.”

“Don’t you dare say I’m predictable,” you warn, raising a finger. “I’ll start crying right here, then you’ll have to deal with that. You wanna see snot running down my–”

Bucky slams the door shut again, waiting to turn around.

“Can you take me to the doctor?” Your voice is muffled through the solid wood.

It’s enough to make him hesitate, hand on the doorknob.

“What’s wrong with you?” he inquires..

“Nothing, I’m perfect,” you reply instinctively, before course correcting, “Wait, no, I’m sick.”

He lets his head drop against the door. “Go to the fucking infirmary.”

“The infirmary told me to go to the hospital. Can you just take me?” you bug. “They won’t discharge me unless I have someone with me to drive me back.”

“You have a head injury?” Bucky asks, before following it with, “Actually, that tracks.”

“Rude.”

“Ask Nat.”

“Nat’s in Lagos.”

“Ask Sam.”

“Yoga.”

“Clint.”

“Really.”

“Glad to know I’m your first choice,” he mumbles, opening up the door.

You send him a blistering smile. “You’re my favourite choice.”

______

“You gotta take this turn,” you instruct, too close to the actual crossing.

“The nearest hospital’s five minutes away, what the hell are you talking about?“ he points out, eyes on the road.

“We’re going to the one on King’s Road,” you read off of Google maps. “Take that lef-– well, you missed that. Now you gotta make a u-turn.”

“What’s the problem with Chastain Park?” he demands. “King’s Road is half an hour away.”

“This one’s got all my files,” you insist. “Otherwise I gotta start over and it's so much effort.”

“Aren’t you in a database?”

“Yeah, but not a medical one.”

Bucky lets out something akin to a growl and a groan. “What's the time?”

“Like eight thirty?”

“What’s the time,” he emphasises, because he most definitely had another email due from another lady on the internet who he had sent his cards to a few hours ago.

“Fine, it’s eight twenty two,” you shoot back. “Did that make a big difference?”

“Yeah, it did actually,” he fires indignantly, “My life is radically different. You have no way of knowing.”

“Liar. You’re a lying liar, who lies.” You scoff. “And details are for losers.”

“Losers can drive all the way back to drop you off at the infirmary and let them deal with you.”

You relent, flashing him a grin. “This won’t take long.”

“You say this every fuckin’ time,” he groans, before complying and taking a u-turn anyway.

“You’re fucking joking,” he states.

“No, it’s actually called lying,” you correct casually.

“Is this an abandoned hospital? What the fuck?” Bucky asks, staring up at the huge decaying building.

The outside looks run-down, with cracked, weathered brick walls and broken windows. The entrance is blocked off with rusted gates, some sections of which have fallen over. As the car rolls up, the air is thick with a musty, damp smell, mixed with a faint odor of decay.

“Yes,” you say simply, opening the trunk of the car and pulling out all the supplies you had from last time. “Video time. Let’s go.”

“You didn’t have to lie,” Bucky mumbles. “I’d have showed up.”

You give him a deadpan look. “You famously never do.”

That’s fair, but also, that was the old Bucky. The new Bucky circa this week is a bit more… invested. He feels the need to gather some more information, and unfortunately, the only opportunity to do that is here.

So for the time being, he decides he will hang on. For purely selfish reasons.

“Just tell me next time,” he grunts.

You observe him for a second like you're about to call him out on something, but instead you simply say, “Okay.”

Bucky grabs his usual stuff– the spirit box, a lapel mic, while you levitate the camera.

“Hello?”

You both look beyond the camera at the same time to someone stalking up to you.

“Who’s there?” demands a middle aged woman with straw blonde hair, wrinkles decorating sunburnt skin, and a navy blue jacket.

“Uh–”

“Who are you?” she asks, cautiously stopping a few feet away.

“We’re here on a video shoot,” you inform. “Just wanted to check the place out.”

“Oh, you’re one of them camera folk,” she says, ponting her flashlight at you. “Those ghost hutner types.”

“That’s us,” you agree, flinching from the bright light. “We're from The Graveyard Shift.”

“Who are you?” Bucky cuts in, because why should only the both of you explain.

“I’ve been working security here for the last thirty years.” She shines her flashlight at the musty place. “Name’s Brenda.”

“Why does an abandoned hospital need a security guard?” Bucky inquires.

“Management just underwent a shift. White collars are setting up a mall here, so they bought up the whole place, fired everyone and now they’re gonna build an all year ski world or something in there.” There’s a tick in her jaw as she draws it out. “Whole damn place is cursed. They better hope it only burns down.”

“Okay,” you drag out, giving Bucky a sideways glance. “Anyway, we’re gonna go check out the place. See if we can find some ghosts.”

“Oh, you’ll see ‘em, alright. Everyone who was collateral damage in the buyout is still in there.” Her voice is distant, arm coming to rest on her hip. “You’ll have to hit up specific rooms. Y’all got a floorplan?”

“No, figured we’d just wing it.” You pause. “Hospital wing it.”

“Shut up,” Bucky replies on instinct.

“You’re gonna be spending a lot of time in there if y’all dont know where youre’ heading. It’s a maze,” she continues, ignoring your brilliant joke. “I can show you the rooms, but I can’t guarantee that it has ghosts in there.”

“Uhhh—” you begin.

“It’ll cut down your time in half.”

“Deal,” Bucky says immediately, sticking out his hand for a shake.

Brenda sticks out her hand too, only to wince immediately, following it up with a curse.

“What’s wrong?” you interject.

“Damn back’s killing me,” she mutters. “You’d think death would stop the pain, but it’s not let up yet. Come on then.”

Both of your eyebrows knit together at her statement, but she leaves no room for a reply as she marches inward, one hand on the small of her spine.

Bucky elects to use his phone flashlight, as if he keeps that shit charged above 40% at any given point of time. If anything is not going to make it out of the night alive, it was that thing.

The air inside is stale and heavy, filled with the scent of mildew and old, rusted metal. All three of your footsteps echo in the silence, reverberating through empty halls with each cautious step. The moonlight in conjunction with the flashlight casts long, unsettling shadows. The faint taste of dust lingers in the back of Bucky’s throat that he cannot get rid of.

“Y’all gonna sleep in here tonight?” Brenda pipes up, swinging her flashlight around.

You look at Bucky with a grin that’s alarming.

His face immediately pulls into one of “What the fuck”

“No, we aren’t,” you announce instead. “But do people do that often?”

“You’d be surprised,” she comments. “You’re not the first folks we’ve had here with those fancy shmancy gadgets.”

“That explains how you have a tour all planned.”

“We get a bunch of you every couple of months.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Bucky cuts in.

She pays him no need. “Y’all run a podcast?”

Bucky looks personally affronted. “No, we do not.”

“We run a YouTube channel,” you offer instead. “It’s for ghosts and stuff.”

“I see,” she considers, tone thoughtful. “So, this will go up online?”

“Unfortunately,” Bucky murmurs.

“Have you caught ghosts before?”

“Not even one–”

“Several,” you chirp. “And we have a witch cat. Her name’s Alpine.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. “Since when is her name Alpine?”

“I gave her a bunch of options and she told me she liked that best.”

“The cat can’t talk.”

“To you. She and I chat shit everyday,” you dish back. “She hates that stupid fern in your room, she says it smells.”

That fucking fern was not even his idea. But Sam got it for him when he moved in, so there was a zero percent chance it would be leaving any time soon.

“Tell her to fuck off.”

“Y’all got a large following?” Brenda interrupts.

“Building towards it.” You look at her before looking at Bucky. “Once we hit a sizable amount and Bucky becomes an official internet boyfriend, we’ll stop the series.”

He sends you a withering look. “We’ll be doing this till I die.”

“Nonsense, everyone loves you,” you dismiss. “You’re a pretty boy and extremely irritable. They think you’re hilarious.”

His nose twitches, and he feels the need to clear his throat.

“Your camera records ghosts?” Brenda asks again.

“We’ve got a bunch of devices. We’ll catch it,” you sound confident.

“Great, because here’s the first stop,” she says, pressing her shoulder onto a double door.

The door groans as she pushes, its hinges protesting with a long, rusty screech, the cold metal heavy under her hand. A stale gust of air hits your face, carrying the faint smell of rot as the door finally gives way.

She steps back with a small huff, stretching her back with a small, “Shit.”

The pale blue walls had turned greenish, wallpaper peeling away. Counters were covered with a thin layer of dust. Old tools laid unused on the surgical table, once stainless steel but now rusted.

“A lotta deaths happened in this operating theatre,” she imparts after a bout of stretching. “They thought this place was cursed for a while.”

The sterile, tiled walls are cracked and chipped, and the old surgical lights hang dim, their bulbs long burned out. The air still lingers with antiseptic that’s long since turned sour.

Bucky feels a little too acquainted with this setting.

He doesn’t even realise his silence is palpable until you nudge his side, drawing his attention sharply back to you.

“You doin’ okay?” you whisper.

“Fine,” he says, tearing his eyes away from the tools and towards you.

It only twists his stomach a little. It makes him think of how different his reactions used to be even a few years go.

“Old, dingy hospitals may not have been the best idea,” you admit to him, using the flashlight to shine a light in the corner.

It occurs to him a second later once he forces himself to compartmentalise.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low.

“Yeah,” you reply, slowly looking around. “Just looks like my nursery.”

A small crease forms between his eyebrows.

“Not gonna lie, mine was way prettier. Lot more mould on the walls,” you continue, tone light. “You know, timeless decor.”

His nose lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh. “Leviathan not into blood stain wallpaper?”

“Couldn’t afford it. Fuckin’ place kept referring to itself as Hydra’s sister org but had none of the budget,” you say, swiping a finger across the dust. “You’d think that at least some of the people that left would give alumni donations, but no.”

Bucky snickers at jokes literally no one else would laugh at. It feels good for once, not to feel the need to censor himself to make others less uncomfortable.

You take a step forward, camera following behind you.

You shine the flashlight around the room, noting all the surgical trays piled together.

But something flashes on the ceiling.

You swing your flashlight toward it immediately, only for the table beside you a few inches away to start rolling, making a loud whining noise as it did, snapping your attention towards it.

By the time you finally bring the light back up towards the ceiling, it’s gone.

“What the–” you mumble.

“What?” Bucky asks, looking up from where he was scrolling through his phone.

“Could’a sworn I saw–” you frown at the empty space now, only an old defunct looking camera staring back at you.

“Red eyes?” Brenda inquires, looking at you. “Yeah, that happens.”

Bucky glances up at you, and then the wall. “Probably just the lens glare.”

You scrunch up your face at her. “How’d you know it was red eyes?”

“That’d be the spirit of ol’ Doctor Damon, chief of neuro,” she says. “You’ll find him here or his cabin, but that’s a few floors away. He never liked climbing the stairs.”

“Right,” Bucky acknowledges monotonously.

“When he worked here, he spent so long in surgery that his eyes were always bloodshot. One day he just dropped dead from exhaustion,” Brenda explains. “So his spirit walks around here, red eyes, wheeling surgery tables waiting for the next patient.”

“What’s he doing on the ceiling?” Bucky questions, going back to his phone. “He did his surgeries suspended midair?”

“Are you trying to gatekeep the ceiling?” you scoff. “Have you never seen Spiderman hanging upside down for fun?”

Bucky finally lifts his sight from the phone. “The doctor is not an insect superhero, he would have no reason to be hanging upside down–”

“How would you know if he’s a superhero or not? What if he was bitten by a bat?” you challenge. “Like a bat…guy. Batman.”

He jeers. “Then he’s got a stupid codename.”

“Oh, and Captain America is poetic genius.”

“At least Sam has a codename, where’s yours?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe you should have paid attention when your mother was screaming it las-”

“Shall we move on?” Brenda asks calmly.

“Yes,” the both of you reply simultaneously.

She doesn’t even bother looking at you, almost as if she’d seen it all in her lifetime.

“Besides, sometimes you can see him sitting on one of the operating tables. He doesn’t just hang out on the ceiling like… bat…man,” she explains, leading the way back out.

“See?”

“See what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies. “There’s nothing to see. That’s the fuckin’ point.”

You shove him lightly.

Bucky bites back a grin.

_____

The morgue is silent.

The ceiling is low and chipped, streaked with stains of old water damage, the paint fallen away in patches.

Against one wall, old, disused morgue drawers stand open and half-broken, the once-sleek stainless steel now speckled with rust. Some of the drawers are bent out of shape, while others are stuck, sealed tight from years of neglect. Inside some of the open drawers, tattered, yellowed tags hang loosely from the handles, swaying gently as the chill air moves through the room.

“This room’s self explanatory,” she says. “Sometimes, you can hear spirits still trying to claw their way out of the drawers but they never open.”

“Skill issue,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“Shut up, oh my God,” you whisper-yell, still mouth pulling into a thin line to stop from laughing.

“What?” Brenda asks, suddenly from near the drawers.

You had no idea when she even went there.

“Nothing,” you reply, before thoughtfully asking, “Bucky, truth or dare?”

“No.”

“Dare it is.” You shine a flashlight at one of the closed drawers. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you get in one of them for a few seconds. Let’s see if the ghosts come at you.”

“You're deranged,” he replies, incredulous.

“It’s for science,” you insist. “How else will you know for sure?”

“I’m sure it’ll be comfortable,” Brenda quips. “Like a coffin.”

The both of you look at her together in silence.

She shrugs. “It’s what I’ve heard from them.”

You look at her for a second more, before turning to Bucky. “Anyway, if you want I’ll come lie in there with you.”

“How does that make it better?” he exclaims. “I am not lying in the morgue.”

“Even if I’m in there with you?”

“That’s even worse–”

There’s a loud knock from one of the drawers on Brenda’s side. She looks down at it, almost like she was expecting it. Soon, there are further loud thuds that come from inside the remaining drawers.

“Hey, Magda,” she calls, before more knocks come from inside. “You’ve got visitors. Say hello.”

You grab the spirit box from behind Bucky’s ear and hold it in the direction of the wall. Nothing registers.

“Animals,” he answers the question hanging in the air calmly.

“The spirits?” Brenda replies. “They’re not gonna like that.”

Sure enough, a few of the drawers start rattling on their own accord.

You look at Bucky with an eyebrow raised.

“What?” he carps. “I’m not gonna go lie down in there, if that’s what you want.”

“Come on, take one for the team,” you whine.

“You take one for the team.”

“I’m literally the one pulling all the weight around here. You do it.”

Bucky doesn’t agree with you on the last part, but the first one is undisputably right. He makes a mental note to start contributing a fuckton more if he plans on continuing on in the series.

The rattling around comes to a halt eventually.

“If none of you want to get in there, should we move to the next one?” Brenda points to the door.

“Yes, please,” you confirm, sending Bucky a glare.

She leads the way up the stairs while you both follow, bickering and shoving lightly.

Once upstairs, Bucky glances down the hall, only to see a large double door that is noticeably different from the rest you’ve seen so far. There’s a fading rainbow drawn on the front, little footsteps painted onto the floor leading towards it.

Bucky hesitates, steps faltering. “Is that the children’s ward?”

“Yes,” Brenda looks over her shoulder briefly.

For a second, he wonders. Whether it was worth a shot. He hadn’t heard from her since the incident at the house, and the tarot cards have been suggesting nothing but reasons to believe she may actually be there.

“Are we going to check that out?” he asks.

“No, there’s nothing there,” she shrugs it off. “No spirits. I’ve asked the others too.”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. “Are you sure?”

You shoot him an odd look that he refuses to meet.

“Yep. Next stop’s the other way.”

Bucky spares the doors another long look, before traversing down the hallway with you.

“Why do you wanna go to the children’s ward?” you query, voice low.

“Just thought it was worth checking out,” he replies, voice steady.

“We can always make a run for it and go check.”

“No,” he says, giving you a curt shake of his head, “it’s alright.”

“We’re right down this way,” Brenda calls, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.

“Coming!” you call back before spinning to Bucky. “Hey.”

“What?” he responds, moving at his own brisk pace.

You tug him back with you with force.

“What are you doing–’ he hisses.

You link your arm with Bucky’s, pulling him along with you as you walk, shutting him up. He eyes your elbow looped with his and the proximity with which you walked beside him and all of a sudden, the back of his neck feels quite warm, extending down to his chest.

“I think Brenda’s a ghost,” you tell him casually.

Bucky stops in his path, drawn very much back to reality.

“Keep walking,” you grit through a smile. “I’m pretty sure she’s dead. Why else is she totally chill with the ghosts here-”

“Because there aren’t any. It’s animals.”

“Why is she saying coffins are comfortable? Why is she talking to the ghosts and knowing exactly where they are and aren’t?”

“I can make shit up too, look,” Bucky comments enthusiastically. “Oh, down the hall is the isolation room. You’ll hear heavy breathing because that’s where the tuberculosis patients were–”

“That’s one of the isolation rooms,” Brenda’s voice echoes down the hall. “It’s next up.”

You yank your arm away from Bucky when he blinks, a bit surprised himself.

“Are you dead?” you whisper-yell.

“Only ‘cause the government declared it,” he sighs. “Do you know what a fuckin’ pain it is to get undead.”

“Come on.” Brenda beckons to the both of you with her flashlight.

With a slight shove, the door to the room swings open easily, but the smell of old paper and mildew floods your senses.

The bed is now a rusted, sagging frame, the thin mattress long since torn and discolored with age. The once-clean sheets have yellowed and frayed, with remnants of old stains. Thin, brittle blankets lie in a heap on the floor.

The walls are bare, save for a few faded medical charts and broken instruments that were left behind in haste. The small window that once offered a faint glimpse of the outside is now cracked and filthy. The weak, filtered light that struggles through the dust-covered glass barely illuminates the room.

“Patients who were highly contagious were quarantined here. Some of them died without family by their side, so you can still hear their cries. Some of them have problems breathing, so sometimes you’ll hear it through the vents,” Brenda explains.

“I bet,” Bucky drags out, sending you a “I fuckin’ told you so” look..

Down the hall, something makes a loud sound, almost like something had crashed into the floor.

All three of you turn towards it.

Brenda’s face flickers for a moment before turning back to its regular calm.

“I think someone’s angry,” she decides. “I’m gonna go check it out.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” you offer.

“I’ll be okay, I’ve known these people all my life. We’re friends,” she comforts. “Oh, sometimes if you look out the door, you’ll see shadows of people in the waiting room down the hall. They’re just old families lingering around, hoping for better results but they always leave upset.”

“Is there no way to get them out of here?” you ask.

She shrugs. “Unless you find a way to fix their disappointment, I doubt they'll leave. They’ll stick around until something improves or changes.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow at the implication. If that were truly the case, and not just something he concocted in the deep, self hating crevices of his mind, then he had to figure out which part of the fucked up mess that he was had pissed his sister off enough to come back to let him know she was disappointed.

You nod at her and she nods, spinning on her heel to exit the room, but not before she stops for a second, hand on the doorframe as she catches her breath, and one hand on her spine.

“Are you okay?” you sound genuinely concerned.

She flashes you a thumbs up, leaving without so much as another word.

“She’s gonna come back with some bullshit about the hospital canteen staff dropping their pans or some shit,” Bucky remarks.

“Yeah no, that was me. I just wanted her out of the room so we could discuss something,” you wave it off quickly.

Bucky stares at you.

“What? I dropped a cart. It’s not a big deal. Anyway, listen–”

“She’s not a ghost,” he states resolutely.

“But what if she is,” you insist, a wicked grin on your face. “Imagine saying we got a ghost tour. By a ghost.”

“I can imagine saying that, yes. I have a very wide and limitless imagination.”

“Ugh, what if we’re meant to help her find her way back?” You peer over his shoulder to see if she’s walking back.

In the distance another crash sounds through the empty hallways. Bucky stares at you.

“I’m just making sure, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone” you insist, dismissing it.

“You could've just closed the door,” he says, extending one hand behind him to slide it closed.

“Don’t do that,” you blurt out.

He stops, eyebrow raised.

“I don't like when doors are closed,” you shrug it off. “Anyway, back to the point. We should totally figure out how to help her exit this realm.”

He slides the door back open slowly, narrowing his eyes at you.

“EVen if she were a ghost, which she’s not– she seems happy here. Maybe,” Bucky comments, taking a seat on the worn out bed. “I can’t really tell.”

“She can’t be. Imagine being forced to roam the same hallways over and over again till the end of time.” you shudder. “Sounds miserable.”

Bucky shrugs, poking at the pillow, watching a cloud of dust fly up from it. “Routine sounds fine to me.”

“I’d hate it,” you counter immediately. “I hate routines. Fucking inescapable once you get stuck in one.”

Bucky watches you curiously as you shift up and down the small room. “How do you get anything done?”

“I can get things done without a routine.” The camera follows your command, checking outside the window or the door occasionally facing Bucky. “Why?”

“Just asking,” he replies, checking the time on his phone. It’d been a while since Brenda had gone to investigate.

“And having a routine totally makes you an easy target. Haven’t you watched any assassination movies?”

“No. I didn’t like bringing work home.”

You look at him in surprise before your face splits into a smile.

Something makes a noise from the wall adjacent to the door.

You both look at each other, and he gets off the bed to go see what the deal is. The door is adjacent to the wall, giving him a clear look into the hallway that was still empty.

A faint wail sounds through the vent above his head. You take quick steps towards where he was, and the camera follows suit, pointing at the grill on the wall.

You stand underneath it, spirit box raised as close as you could get it, but the damn thing picks up nothing.

Another noise comes through, almost like someone was wheezing, before the vent rattles, stopping altogether.

You stare at it, before taking a gigantic inhale and exhaling obnoxiously, forcing all the air out of your lungs with a wheeze.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bucky stares at you like you're insane.

“Well, you can’t just back down,” you argue. “I’m gonna breathe louder than that thing.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.

You give another gigantic inhale and exhale, rattling all the bones in your body, and the faint noise from the vent stops too.

“We win,” you beam

“You’ve completely lost it.”

“Uh, no, I didn’t. I totally won.”

“That’s not what I–” Bucky starts but stops himself when you grin at him devilishly.

He sighs, asking instead, “Should we go looking for her?”

“I guess so,” you shrug. “We’re not exactly cut to be her saviours right now. I’m pretty sure she knows the layout of the hospital better than we do if she’s been haunting it for fifteen years.”

“Where did you get that number?” he demands.

“Does it matter?” you urge. “Didn’t realise you’re a valid ghost only if you have a certain number of years in haunting.”

Bucky ignores you, taking off down the hall.

“If you had to haunt a hospital or a ship, what would you choose?” you quip, matching his pace.

“Hospital,” he answers without thinking much.

“Why?”

“I spent a lot of time in them,” he tells you, voice clear. “Steve’s mom was a nurse. We’d meet her there a lot when he got his ribs broken or his nose busted.”

The memory, though faint, is enough to pull a smile from him.

“He also used to be sick a lot, so I used to come pick up his medicine for him,” he adds. “They used to know us by name because we’d be there nearly every second day.”

You exhale a small laugh. “Every hospital in the state of New York has a chart for Steve even now.”

“Fuckin’ guy just dosn’t learn.” Bucky shakes his head with affection-laced irritation.

The hallways stretch out endlessly, dim and wide. A few doors line the walls, some ajar, revealing only darkness inside. The silence is unnerving, broken only by the soft sound of you and your footsteps.

Bucky looks over at you. “What about you?”

“What about me?” you hum, small smile still on your face.

“What would you haunt?

“Ship, I guess,” you reply. “I’ve always wanted to be a pirate.”

“Should be your next job.”

“You gonna come with? We’ll turn it into a vlog.

“Fuck no.”

“Well, thanks for taking the time to really consider it,” you sing, not really offended. “Way to let me down gently, Barnes.”

“What? It’s got nothin’ to do with you.” Bucky clarifies still, pausing before letting out, “I get seasick. Can’t be on water for more than five minutes before I’m throwing up all over the place. You want that in your vlog?”

It’s enough to elicit a laugh from you, that in turn makes the corner of his lip curl.

“We could always–

Right in front of him, something moves darts across the wall at the end of the hall.

It cuts you off mid-sentence too, the both of you glancing at each other before turning towards it again.

Against the glare of your flashlight, another shadow darts across the wall.

“That’s what she was talking about,” you whisper, slightly in disbelief that she wasn't wrong. “Shadow people. Do you think they got to her?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, continuing to walk on ahead.

“Um, hello?” you scramble to catch up with him. “Where is your self preservation?”

“Against what?” he asks stoically.

“That,” you say pointedly at the wall, when another figure darts across the wall and disappears out of sight.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “It’s a shadow, the fuck’s it gonna do?”

“Haven’t you heard of shadow demons? Succumbing to darkness?” you chastise.

Bucky stops walking, standing solidly in the middle of the hallway.

“Okay,” he says, refusing to budge.

The hall goes silent, no movement other than the steady rise and falls of your chest.

You stare at him. “Now what.”

“I'm waiting for them to do something,” he says. “I’m waiting to succumb to the darkness.”

“You’re so annoying,” you bite, dragging him along with you. “And I’m tired, we’ve been walking for like, eight hundred hours. Let’s go.”

“We’ve been here for two hours,” he reminds you, taking a turn into the corner that the shadows disappeared into. “You did this to yourself.”

“Fine, next time I’ll bring an electric scooter with me.” You huff. “And I won’t even let you use it.”

“Where’d Brenda fuckin’ go?” Bucky mumbles, eyes squinting into the darkness to see if there are any clues.

“Where are you guys going?” Someone pipes up from behind you, sending the hairs on his neck up.

The both of you spin around instantly, arms clenched in a fighting stance.

“Sorry, it's a habit to take the scenic route back.” She chuckles, unfazed. “Not a lot to do when you’ve been here so long.”

The both of you lower your hands slowly, letting out an exhale.

“Y’all ready to head out?” she inquires, coolly. “I think it’s time we all get some rest.”

The walk back is relatively quicker, ater she leads you down a path she calls a shortcut.

The only thing that slowls you down are the occasional stops you had to make for her back ache.

Right by the entrance of the hospital, she holds onto the door frame again in the midst of explaining who was haunting the basements.

After a particularly hard exhale and a clamour to stand back up, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat to ask, “Have you tried this stretch?”

“What?” Brenda asks, eyes curious.

“Learnt it in physio. Doesn’t cure it, but it helps,” he explains, craning his neck to the sides, before taking a step ahead towards her.

You watch him in thinly veiled delight as he shows her exactly what joint to bend and in which angle, and the degree to which she had to pivot.

He even uncomfortably guides her shoulders in the strangest yoga session you’d ever witnessed.

“Should help,” Bucky mumbles, taking a step away.

She raises her shoulders and drops it, lips pursuing and bows raising in a look that seems impressed. The small hunch she carried wit her seems to have disappeared too.

“Let’s go,” Bucky doesn’t wait for a thanks or anything, taking a step away from her and towards the exit.

“Now that you’ve fixed her back ache, how do we fix her haunting the place?” you ask lowly.

“She’s not a fuckin’ ghost, she’s fine,” he whispers back.

“Nothing about what she’s said tonight is normal,” you argue.

The night is clear and cool when you step out, the musty scent of the building dissipating almost immediately.

“Just say bye, we’re fuckin’ leaving,” Bucky shoots.

You sigh loudly, giving him a glare at his lack of helpfulness before plastering a smile on your face and turning around.

“Well, thanks for everything, Brenda,” you say, turning around to stick your hand out. “We sure couldn’t have–”

But she’s gone.

“Holy shit,” you say.

Bucky looks over his shoulder at the disturbance, before turning around fully. “Oh, fuck off.”

“I told you she was a ghost,” you gush. “You fixed her back ache and now she has crossed over to the other side.”

“Shut up,” he replies, looking all over the place for a sign of where she could have disappeared to.

“You did it, Bucky, you helped a lonely spirit,” you cheer.

“I did not.”

“Hey!” Someone shouts from afar, commanding your attention to the gate again.

“Not again,” Bucky mumbles, eyes snapping shut.

“More ghosts,” you point out excitedly. “Come on, Charon, ferry those spirits–”

“You ferry your own spirits, I’m going to sleep,” he interjects, fully intending on ignoring the person at the gate and simply getting in the car.

“What are you guys doing here?” A man pants, jogging up to the both of you before Bucky had the time to leave.

“We were just taking a look around,” you say, sticking your hand out, much to Bucky’s displeasure. “We heard the place was haunted.”

“Ah, I see,” he replies, taking in your appearance. “Podcasters?”

“No,” Bucky replies instantly.

“We were just leaving,” you cut in. “We already got a tour by this ghost, and Bucky totally sent her to the afterlife.”

“I did not,” he seethes.

“She disappeared after saying ominous shit this entire evening, what do you call that?” you challenge.

“Going home,” Bucky responds, frustrated that he was clearly not afforded the same privilege.

“Uh–” the guy holds up his finger. “--not to intrude, but you got a tour by a ghost?”

“Yes,” you bubble over with excitement.

“And this ghost… did they have a backache?”

Bucky’s interest piques, the irritation giving way to intrigue .

“You know her?” you puzzle.

“Uh yeah, that’s Brenda,” he admits sheepishly. “She’s very much alive.”

Bucky would have sworn he had never been this elated in his life, but unfortunately he realises very quickly that he simply does not care.

“She said she was a security guard here– wait, who are you?” you tilt your head at him, seemingly not upset at all. It reduces Bucky’s non-existent triumph even more.

“Travis Dowell, Labyrinth Inc. representative,” he says, shaking your hand. “We’re–”

“--the company that bought the place,” you complete, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Brenda was a security guard here for nearly thirty years. We had to let go of her when we bought the hospital. We’ve been trying to turn it into an apartment for years, but there’s a lot of red tape that we have to get past because of healthcare reasons.”

“Yeah, she told us that it got bought,” you follow along.

“Hospital was in the worst financial situation possible. There was just no way out.” He shrugs. “But she was super attached to this place. She didn’t take the redevelopment plans well, so she’s taken it upon herself to make sure it never happens, I guess? I don’t know, she spends a lot of time here convincing people that it’s haunted so that people don’t build anything here. She’s got an apartment close by so she knows when someone’s around. You’ll probably find her there, if you want.”

“You guys know about her?” Bucky questions, crease between his eyebrows.

“Uh, yeah, we do,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We sorta ignore her. Her schtick’s annoying, but it’s not the reason we haven’t demolished this place yet. Once all the zoning issues get cleared up, the building’s coming down. And besides, all the PR’s just gonna have people pay a shit ton to stay here. You know, novelty of it being haunted, and all that.”

“How’d you know we were here?” you ask pointedly.

“We’ve set up motion sensors in the place?” he replies. “You may have seen them. The red lights in the operation rooms. We know she takes people there.”

“Oh, that’s what that was,” you turn to Bucky who simply shakes his head lightly.

“Yeah, she really goes the extra mile.” Travis shifts from one leg to the other. “There’s raccoons in the morgue that start running around if she hits the door. What else… oh yeah, she’s made a hole in one of the isolation rooms to make noises through the wall.”

Bucky wonders what will happen of all the footage now that none of it was essentially real. It made sense why she kept trying to find out where the video was going to be posted and how many people were going to view it now, as if a large number of views were going to save her beloved building.

“So you’ll just let her do whatever until the demolition happens?” you question.

“If it gets her to stop vandalising our office downtown.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t make a difference to us either way.”

“Right. So the real horror…” you say. “...is capitalism.”

Travis stares at you, before raising and dropping his shoulders. “Sure.”

“Alright.” You blow out an exhale. “Well, was anything about tonight real?”

“I mean, she really does have back pain,” he adds helpfully.

You turn to Bucky. “Net positive, then.”

Sure. Why the fuck not.

“Okay, Travis, thanks for this. You’ve been an immense help,” you say aloud, hoisting the camera onto your shoulders. “You can watch us on The Graveyard Shift, if we can figure out what to do with all these videos now.”

“Sorry about that,” he replies, shoving his fists into his pocket. “Good night.”

You watch as he turns and jogs away to his car that was parked a bit closer to the gate than yours was.

Bucky plucks the camera off your shoulder and places it under his arm, even though he’s well aware you can carry fifteen of them at once.

“That was fun,” you tell him, seemingly over it already.

“I’m fuckin’ starving,” he replies.

Bucky should be glad then, that he didn’t bother with the children’s ward, if nothing about tonight was real–

“Travis, wait,” you shout all of a sudden. “What about the shadows?”

“What shadows?” he calls back, confused.

“The shadow people moving across the hall from the isolation room?”

He raises his eyebrows. “We haven't heard reports of that.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky mumbles.

“Hell yeah,” you reply, knocking into his shoulder. “Haunted hospital, baby.”

When you walk into the dining room, you don’t really expect anyone to be there that late at night.

But fiery red hair pulled into a ponytail and an oversized t-shirt perched at the kitchen counter catches you off guard, dulling the arguing between you and Bucky as you argue the logistics of Brenda having a hand in the shadow demons.

“Took you guys long enough,” Nat keeps her mug down on the counter before hopping off the chair. You note that it’s the same one you got her a few weeks ago from the flea market, the blue ceramic one.

“Oh, hi!” you smile wide, when she pulls you into a hug. “I thought you were in Lagos.”

“I was,” she replies, pulling away. “Got done early.”

“Of course you did. Overachiever.”

In the end of the common room, Bucky can hear the faint sounds of late night infomercials play through the TV. Clint’s legs hung off the couch as he lay snoring in front of it, blanket dropped on the floor in a heap.

“Hot chocolate?” she offers.

“I’m good, we went to the drive-through before coming back.” You beckon with your shoulder towards Bucky.

She finally turns to him. “Hey.”

Bucky gives her a curt nod, glad that she’s back safe.

“Why were you out so late?” She gives him a onceover, before raising an eyebrow. “Together.”

“Hospital date.”

“Video shoot,” he says at the same time, glaring at you. You shrug.

Nat’s lip trails up into a smirk. “Put on your big boy pants and finally admit your crush?”

Bucky drags a palm down his face. “I do not have a crush.”

“If you say so,” she concedes innocently, eyeing him over the rim of her hot chocolate.

“Are you all in on this? Do you have a quota to reach?” he groans. “Why’s everyone asking me this?”

“Who is ‘everyone’?” you sound delighted.

“If you don’t want people to call you out on our shit, maybe don’t walk around with heart eyes,” Nat comments.

Buck’s look is ice cold, but Nat just gives him a wink when you laugh.

“Hey, I needed to talk to you about something.” She turns to you. “You free for a second?”

“Always,” you reply in earnest.

Nat leads you a few steps away, hand on your shoulder.

Bucky takes his seat at the counter, stealing a sip from Nat’s mug. Of course, it was fantastic. Overachiever.

He tunes out intentionally, focusing on the fact that Clint was splayed out on the couch with the TV on a low volume. He knows for a fact the blonde was asleep, and probably would wake up with the worst neck pain in his life, but this was the life he chose.

After watching Clint nearly fall off the couch twice, he looks away, not intending on prying on your conversation but vaguely watching the interaction out of the corner of his eye.

He frowns at what he sees. Nat’s face has turned solemn while she talks to you in hushed tones. Your eyebrows were pulled together, arms crossed over your chest.

Bucky feels a shift in the air, but he’s not sure what exactly has gone down.

Nat finally tells you something surely, and you nod. She cups the side of your face and you force out a smile at her, before her hand drops.

The both of you make your way back to him. He turns his gaze back to the counter.

“You owe me a hot chocolate,” Nat tells him, before giving him a quick kiss on the temple and stealing her cup right back.

“I barely drank any,” he retorts, eyes still trained on you.

The TV clicks off and she drags a half asleep Clint back down the hall to his bedroom while the man rubbed at his shoulders, trailing behind her obediently.

Meanwhile, you grab a glass of water from the tap, drinking it slowly as you head towards the elevator.

“G’night, Buck,” you tell him, passing by him.

“Hold on,” he says, voice less gruff than before as he watches you, face tight, “What’s going on?

You observe him for a few long seconds, but he gets the sense you aren’t exactly looking at him. Your eyes are slightly glazed over, and your mind is… elsewhere.

“What do you do when people refuse to let go of something you’ve already escaped?” you ask finally.

“What do you mean?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together tighter.

“Do you feel like everyone’s eyes are on you?” you say, voice strange. “Like there’s nowhere to go?”

“Where is this coming from? What’d Nat tell you?”

It seems to snap you out of whatever funk you were in, at least partially. “It’s probably nothing.”

His frown only deepens. “Is someone threatening you?”

“No, nothing like that.” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s gonna be fine.”

Bucky stares after you as you press the button to the elevator. He isn’t really sure what to make of the what you just shared. He isn’t even sure he should ask Nat about it later on considering that she didn’t want him listening in now.

He watches the light above the elevator light up before a ding sounds through.

“Just so you know–”

Bucky’s eyes snap back to you, one step in the elevator.

“I had a codename, too,” you tell him. “I just never liked it.”

Bucky is only left staring as you disappear into the elevator, leaving him in silence.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader

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manicpixiedreamedwins · 2 days ago

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GINGERWREN'S PAYNELAND RECS 2024!

I can't believe we have had Charles and Edwin for less than a year. Even still, we've had a lot of fun! I wanted to share some fics, art, and gifs that made this year worth it for me personally. I was talking to a friend recently, and we noticed recent rec lists seem to be short, tag based lists with no real input from the list writer. Many of them also seem to rec the same few fics. Sometimes I feel left out as a smaller writer, and I know my favorite fics also don't always make it onto these lists either.

So, gentle reader, I will not be making a list of tags and summaries. You can read the tags on the fics and the art work, should you choose to view. I will be telling you why I love the works themselves. This is the best way I can think to recommend work to you.

Without further ado: the list is below.

WRITING

sweeter than honey from the rock - @dearheartdont

This lives rent free in my head. Literally in my mind this is like a lost episode or something. I do not want to spoil it or anything, but some of my favorite things in it are the world building (there are delightfully sympathetic clients, and witty antagonists), Charles does... exactly what one would expect Charles to do in order to help the client and protect everyone, and he makes things temporarily worse for himself. Rest assured though, there is a very, very satisfying resolution. Really, this is such a wonderful fic.

Winter Bloom - @skinnybritishdudes

PINK!!! EDWIN!!!! NOW!!!! This was my request for our server's Christmas exchange and it blew me out of the water. Genuinely, the magical mischief PLUS the subtle horror PLUS the absolute tenderness at the end?? Was everything I wanted, and more than I expected. Friendship ended with my own pink Edwin origin story. THIS is Pink Edwin now. Run don't walk for this one (as you can see, I still have not calmed down I am so excited about this one).

Nothing Left to Hide - @roseganymede95

I know I need to say more than "spider jar" but there's a point where I just start crying softly and going "spider jar" while I am reading. Honestly I'm sure if I said that to you, you would probably know which fic I'm referring to. It's this one. It's brilliant. It rewired my brain early on and I haven't been the same since. I found a spider jar pin because it may as well be canon in my mind. They call each other mine in the fic what more do I need to tell you to get you to read this? Join the spider jar cult with me.

right. never finished it.- taableclofh

A classic. Charles tries to save Edwin from Hell. He figures some things out in the process. (This is canon divergent in the best possible way and was a real balm on the soul, somehow).

molliculi (soft little things)- @williamvapespeare

This was made in a lab to make me cry specifically. The first time I finished reading it, it was two in the morning. I stared at my bedroom wall for like twenty minutes, bleary eyed, and then finally managed to type something to @williamvapespeare (who was really gracious about whatever mess I sent, lol). God fuck. It's a character study on Edwin. It's a history of living and dying in 1916. It's wondering what it means to continue on existing, but never have lived on with your peers. It's an outsider's perspective on Charles' trying to figure things out. Go. Go now. Suffer with me.

Do you like possessive Charles? (There's one right answer and it's yes). This fic is the fic. This also lives rent free in my brain. I wish I could say something more coherent but honestly I do not know how much I can say- well there is this lovely description where Charles compares Edwin's eyes to the sea on a stormy day (ao3 is sadly down, I cannot pull the full quote, but it was gorgeous). The rest... 🌶️🌶️🌶️

The Case of the Omegaverse Portal - miraworos

Omegaverse, as specified in the title. Also a very well written casefic, and some really satisfying feelings revelations. Once again: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

ART

Kiss (Blue) - @ent-is-indecisive

Genuinely A I am just amazed by how lovely all the kisses you draw are. Like they come out stunningly, over and over. I have no idea how you pull off this wizardry but it is amazing. Anyway I picked the first picture we ever talked about but I am also genuinely blown away whenever you drop something in LOMA

Collab Gifset For Payneland Week- @mellxncollie

I know you have all seen Olly's gifs. If you haven't, what are you even doing? (Maybe you're new here. That's okay). It's something special when Olly makes a gifset for your fic. Genuinely, sometimes I just go back and stare at this one because WOW THOSE ARE MY WORDS. BUT ON A GIF. Genuinely thanks for making my first year in the fandom special Olly.

Pink Slip- @arisprite

Ari was super great during the flash sketch commissions and we had a blast. Now this reminds me of ongoing convos that @majorlb @deadboyslullaby and I have (and perhaps one day we will do something more with those) but the point here is Ari is great. You all should go and appreciate the wide range of payneland she has made. Her fem!payneland is dazzling, and so is her sad boy Charles (which I think is the first piece I ever fell in love with).

RITUALS - @deadboyslullaby

THE RITUALS ARE INTRICATE. This was a collaboration with @likemmmcookies . @deadboyslullaby worked really hard on the inscription around the edges for this one and I am forever in awe of all the little details here. I want more of them doing strange, arcane stuff together always.

ORBWIN IN CHARLES’ RIBS- @jube-art

This is absolutely what I think is going on when one of them is orbing and the other isn't. No I am not taking feedback. Once more, this was a piece of art that re-wired my brain early on. Ribs are for lovers.

BONUS:

Feathers and Fur - merle_p

Super secret rare pair that rewired how my brain works forever. I love you catcrow. I love you Monty that's a little bit depressed a little bit of a masochist. I love you Thomas who can't help but take in strays but still has teeth and hasn't been declawed in this fic. This fic is just... so... gorgeous*chef's kiss*. I won't spoil it for you, but I implore you to read it so I have more people to talk about this pairing with.

These were all my recs for now. Thank you Dead Boy Detective fandom 2024! We may have had some bumps in the road, but here's to a strong and healthy 2025!

#payneland #painland #paynland #charles x edwin #reclist #ficrecs

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kisakis-boyfriend · 1 day ago

Note

I lowkey feel like a weirdo just reading and interacting with your posts without actually sending anything in the ask box LMAO

So here I am, to rant about pretty (not so) little twinks to my favorite writer

Everyone headcannons Hanma to be sadistic, and while I can definitely see that based on the way he acts and fights, I personally headcannon him to be a hardcore masochist who just tries to hide it by saying he's a sadist. Like this man doesn't dodge powerful punches and kicks from Mikey or Draken, no, no, he blocks them with his own body instead. His whole thing is always getting back up after tanking heavy hits like a monster. But he also very regularly eggs people on. He taunts and maims people to get them to fight him. He does this, every. Single. Fight.

So how does this translate into the bedroom? Well of course, his lanky ass wants nothing more than to get on your nerves. He wants to see how far he can push you, if he can make you genuinely mad. He wants to be the biggest little shit he possibly can until you have no choice but to punish him for it. And this boy can take a lot. Spanking? No problem. Choking? Yes please. Cbt? Why the hell not? Putting him into a borderline painful full nelson while relentless pounding into his prostate at mach jesus? He'd love every second, even if it renders him damn near bedridden for the next three days. Hell, we've seen how Hanma fights, you could probably beat the shit out of him or try to kill him and he'd pop a stiffy.

I feel like he might have a humiliation kink too. Like- shame this man for being so kinky and mock him for being pathetic. You could call him your little bitch and spit in his mouth and he'd just grin in response. And he's not really the type to break easily either. Even as you have him clutching the sheets, trembling, tears rolling down his cheeks, barely even able to stay conscious, he'd still talk shit and try to aggravate you. That carries into every day couple life too, just in a more minor way. He likes to play pranks on you, poke and prod you both literally and metaphorically. He's also almost definitely smart, I mean- Kisaki hates dumb people, and he hangs out with Hanma. That just means that Hanma will start the dumbest, prettiest arguments, and win purely by technicality. He's a total smartass. Of course, Hanma wouldn't say or do anything to actually hurt you, he's just be annoying and a nusience on purpose because he finds it entertaining to piss people off. It's alright, there's an easy fix. Just fuck hin so dumb he can't talk, so hard that he just passed out in your arms straight after.

Moral of the story, Hanma is a freaky little masochist, and the world's most annoying little asshole (affectionate)

~Neon

(Ajdksj no need to worry! I accept lurkers of all sorts — including lurkers who don't interact at all, and instead silently read my works <3

I do appreciate things like this too though, thank you! I love hearing y'all's thoughts and ideas!)

—

THIS is canon, as far as I'm concerned. He's such a painslut, it's not even funny. I definitely agree that Shuji will do his best to annoy you, that's just his favorite past time :P

I recently learned that getting punched in the gut (or just, in general) is a kink/fetish, so I think we can safely assume that Shuji would be into that too. I know that wrestling is also a sexual thing for some people. Just tossing that out there. Pin that tall boy in a painful position and hammer your cock into him, he'll love it!

Forget play fighting, he's the kind of guy who'd want to actually fight you until he's spitting up blood. Rasping a snarky remark even as his knuckles are busted, and his ribs ache from your heavy hits. Just normal couple things~

I also just thought about a "softer" moment: Cuddling with Shuji and pressing on the bruises you left on him. He winces as your thumb presses down on the large purple area on his arm, your other hand combing through his hair. This kind of pain is the kind that makes his whole body tremble, and he easily becomes addicted to it <3

#mailbox #thirst #shuji hanma #hanma smut #hanma x male reader #hanma x reader #sub hanma

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meowshroom1230 · 21 hours ago

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Y’all ever wonder why it’s called the amazing digital circus when no one in the amazing digital circus is from a circus? Well so did I… at 1 am so i’m going to do my best to make sense of my late night ramblings:

Caine- Getting the obvious out of the way he’s the ringleader. Not much more to explain here, keeps the group together, etc.

Kinger- He would be the beast master. I made a point about gloinks in my ramblings but everyone interacted with them in the pilot. My real explanation is just the entirety of episode 3. He was the only one who could calm his wife, he knew how to handle the creature that attacked him and Pomni, and he keep Pomni safe when they were walking through an area infested with demon like creatures. “tHoSe ArEn’T rEaL aNiMaLs!” HIS CONNECTION WITH BUGS THEN. He has an undeniable attachment to bugs and while he might not be taming them I’m sure he could if he wanted to

Gangle- She’s the tightrope walker. She is constantly teetering between being too much and not enough often putting herself at risk often. Depending how you saw the truck scene (either a as a rep for su!c!dal thoughts or just a funny truck-kun reference, goose said those scene was up for interpretation), she could also be teetering the line between life and abstraction. Gangle is in some kind of danger and it is up to her to save herself, until she makes it to the other side.

Ragatha- Now this one you gotta hear me out on, but she is the bearded woman. LISTEN, some interpretations of a beard that aren’t just facial hair are linked to covering up something. A beard in the US can be someone who completes a transaction to cover someone else’s identity. A beard can also be a person who pretends to be in a romantic relationship with a person who they are not attracted to to cover for their sexuality. Using these terms of ‘beard’ as an example I concluded that Ragatha’s ‘beard’ is a cover up for her true feelings. Something’s off about her, and we got glimpses of that in episode 4. She’s not as happy and friendly as she’s made out to be. Now I don’t think it’s something dramatic like she’s evil or a villain, but she’s hiding something and she’s ashamed of it. Bearded women in history were often very ashamed of their beards and some thought the circus was their only way of having some value. Maybe Ragatha finds value in making people happy? Maybe that’s what her ai was programmed to do… but that’s a theory for another time :)

Pomni- Ok after a long one I felt another easy one was in place. Pomni is the clown. Jesters and clowns are often grouped together… but it’s also in how she’s treated. She’s often the butt of physical comedy jokes, she often finds herself in pain because of the circumstances surrounding her. I don’t think she’s trying to be funny but because of the situation she’s in she’s forced to be the clown of the circus. She also keeps everyone ‘entertained’. She’s prevented at least one, if not 2 people from abstracting. I believe that her presence does more than she realizes. Also when first joining the circus i guess who she replaced…

Jax- Now here’s where my ideas are mostly based on vibes and headcanons, so i understand if these are taking more with a grain of salt. Jax is the contortionist. A contortionist isn’t someone you’d think would be in a circus at first glance, i mean they’re just a regular person right? Nothing special about them- JESUS CHRIST WHY ARE YOU BENT LIKE THAT. Now Jax isn’t bending his body into weird shapes… but i think his emotions are. There’s something beneath Jax’s surface of annoying attitude. We see hints of emotion break in only spans of seconds. I can count on one hand the number of seconds we’ve seen a genuine emotion from Jax. I think he’s forcing himself to bend to what others think he should be. People think he’s an asshole? Well then he has to be that way 24/7 or else… something. That’s the only part I haven’t figured out yet. Is he scared of rejection? of vulnerability? caring about someone? That’s the only thing I can’t figure out about him. So just in case I’m wrong about this Im giving him a secondary option… the acrobat. He’s still preforming but he isn’t hiding some tbh in him this version. He’s doing this for himself because either way he gets the attention that he wants. The acrobat is more focused on gaining and keeping attention then hiding anything about himself.

Zooble- Another loose one… I’m pretty sure we’ve had no more than 20 lines from them an episode. Zooble is the oracle. They seem to know so much about the circus despite not going on many adventures. They stay in one place more often than not. They tell you the truth whether or not you like it. They’ve been around for a while and will probably be there for a long time. I don’t know how Zooble knows what they know but they’re quite sure about it. They also stay strong to the ideas that they’ve figured out and refuse to change their mind. Caine is an excellent example, they seem assume things about Caine that most of the members wouldn’t even think of, yet Zooble is very certain in themselves. But because this one is also loose I’m also giving them a secondary, as the contortionist. If it isn’t Jax then it’s definitely Zooble… but for different reasons. Zooble clearly has issues with how they look and often want to change themselves, contorting in every way possible to just find something that’s comfortable. Contortionists suffer pain later in life due to their abilities, forcing them to keep moving their bodies in odd positions just to be comfortable. Zooble could be the same way but in a much more literal sense, forcing to have to try more parts just to find something that works for them.

Here’s the ramblings of anyone else wants to make sense of them lol

#tadc theory #the amazing digital circus #tadc caine #tadc ragatha #tadc pomni #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #circus #tadc kinger #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus jax #the amazing digital circus kinger #the amazing digital circus pomni #the amazing digital circus caine #the amazing digital circus zooble #the amazing digital circus gangle #the amazing digital circus ragatha #circus theory #tadc

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httpstes · 3 days ago

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What’s your take on a Leo 1H stellium? (ASC , mercury , Venus & north node)

Leo Mercury/Venus/NN in 1H

☽｡⋆ This is gives me immediate bright eyed excited for the world energy. Leo ascendants already take up the whole room when they walk in (whether they mean to or not; they naturally command attention) but with Venus here, there’s a certain magnetism that the already attractive and influential Leo ascendant has that amplifies their liveliness and ability to warm others up with their attitude and unwavering attention.

☽｡⋆ Leo Venus enjoys attention, it being in the first house either suggests you do get that attention effortlessly or that’s how your perceived. Meaning even if you don’t enjoy or think you don’t get that much attention others may look at you and assume based off first impressions and or appearances that you do in fact get a lot of positive attention.

☽｡⋆ Leo Venus in the first house can indicate the genuine and big hearted love that Leo naturally has in Venus is greatly expressed in your personality. You love to love and enjoy receiving compliments and giving them to others. "What you give is what you get" and you make sure your sending that positive energy to others tenfold.

☽｡⋆ Leo Mercury in the 1H allows for an individual to outwardly and confidently express their curiosity and thoughts to a wider audience. The fear of being wrong usually is not a problem here as the Leo mercury is so deeply authentic and genuine in its curiosity of the world/people/ideology around them that others can’t be mad/disappointed at whatever may come out of their mouth.

☽｡⋆ Leo Mercury in the 1H also shows a very expressive individual with a communication style that’s extremely dynamic and exciting. These are the type of people I could listen to tell stories about their lives for days just because of how entertaining they are.

☽｡⋆ Leo Mercury in the First house can also indicate being very reactive, especially when it comes to communication, you may be the type to be somewhat performative, or liking the reactions other people give you in response to how YOU react or to what you say (shock value).

☽｡⋆ Leo Mercuries in general seem quite fun, I also love Mercury in the first as in terms of how you come across to other people, others might view you as someone who has a zest for life or constantly on a quest for more knowledge. Combining the genuine and entertaining Leo with the intellectual and communicative ruled planet mercury in your first house of how others view you illustrates an individual who is quite reactive, entertaining but genuine in thought and authentic in how you communicate.

☽｡⋆ North Node in Leo suggests stepping into the spotlight as you age/in this life time. Maybe as a kid or if you believe in past lifetimes, in a past life, would’ve been more focused on the collective and group projects. You prefer to work in groups and it feels natural to connect with and work with other people.

☽｡⋆ South Node in Aquarius suggests it might’ve felt uncomfortable taking up the spotlight, possibly the fear of being recognised, perceived or even judged could’ve gotten in the way of you attuning yourself to your North Node in Leo traits.

☽｡⋆ SN in Aqua indicates preferring to work with the team, being a team player, and collectively collaborating, working on and achieving something together for a greater cause that benefits all.

☽｡⋆ SN in Aqua can also show having a lot of empathy for humanity as a whole as a kid, possibly wanting to donate to charity, or getting involved in things/coming up with ideas as to how you can help on a global level.

☽｡⋆ NN in Leo now suggests to not let go of that collaborative, networking and humanitarian side that your SN (most comfortable state) holds, but to carry those traits with you when embracing your destiny in this life/as you age.

☽｡⋆SN in Aqua can suggest possibly being to grown for your age as a kid. Or wanting to be mature and humble over your achievements as a kid.

☽｡⋆ NN in Leo is more focused on the self, is less focused on group collaboration but is the model on the stage that is presented, the person that entertains and brings about happiness in the crowds.

☽｡⋆ NN in Leo encourages you to be more comfortable in the lime light and to never lower or dismiss your achievements but to openly celebrate with friends and loved ones.

☽｡⋆ NN in Leo is encouraging you to move away from collective effort and more onto the natural creative side you have within and to share it with the community, audience, wider world.

☽｡⋆SN in Aqua might’ve been too focused on what other people needed, what society wanted from them and how they can contribute to society, NN in Leo encourages you to instead harvest and develop your personal talents not for humanity, nor a greater cause or society bur for yourself. By putting yourself first and using your talents and or hobbies to enrich your inner world and mental well-being will you then be able to achieve your SN in Aqua dream of being able to help others on a grand scale.

☽｡⋆This could literally be through any outlet, but because it’s NN in Leo, more than likely a creative pursuit. Music, Painting, Acting, Drawing, Dancing etc anything that’s creative and that calls to heal your inner child that was neglected to focus on bigger things at a young age, do that as it will heal you and eventually heal others.

☽｡⋆ NN in Leo= get comfortable being your more authentic and creative self in FRONT of people, show yourself off and be appreciative of what others have done for you as well as what you have done for yourself, move towards positions where you can take charge, be the centre of attention, be the creator (despite how uncomfortable and or how scary it might feel)

☽｡⋆The accuracy of these observations will vary and are all dependant on other placements in your chart, the aspects that are being made to Mercury, Venus, and North node (are they more harmonious or challenging) as well as if they’re conjuncting the Asc, if you have a Day Chart or a Night chart, and the overall strength and dignity of these planets.

(P.S I wrote this on my phone there may be grammar mistakes)

#astro community #astrology placements #astrology notes #leo placements #astrology community #astrology #astro notes #leo mercury #Leo #leo venus #astro tumblr #astrology observations #astroblr #astrology tumblr #leo rising #leo ascendant #Leo north node #Aquarius South node

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justtrashperson · 3 days ago

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Could I hear that RtGame life series essay? 🥺

KSAJASKJ TBF it's not really a full essay, but just multitude ideas of what would happen if RT joins life series (in my opinion)

It's a mix between RT playing minecraft in general and My own Magistrex lore/characterization so be warned

might get long, if it is long then it's gonna be after read more lol

ANYWAY in my opinion the way RT plays games and interacts w people very much fits the gameplay of life series boogeyman gimmick, even if he had no like, skills in pvp or what not, being the boogeyman means basically hiding your identity before killing someone in any way possible to get the curse out

MIX THAT with how RT somehow has such good charm and persuasion points I feel like he'd try to be allies w almost everyone similarly how WL!Joel did it

BUT IF WE'RE TALKING VERY MUCH LORE WISE OH BOY OH BOY if we're basing this on Martyn's eyes and ears lore, RT would definitely be liked by the watchers. Why you may ask? Well it is basically confirmed that the watchers HATE positive feelings mainly love and enjoys chaos and destruction. Now, RT has multiple times be the being of chaos during a gameplay either directly or indirectly (especially if he's like, roleplaying). This said man created a revolution in a yogscast server that had monarchy. This man would kill himself if it means causing chaos. He embraces that personality so much that I feel like if he's mostly spending the series in Red life or was a boogeyman, he would try and just cause chaos as much as he can even if it risks his life. If he ever got involved into the lore, he'd definitely be someone the watchers like.

He would also probably try to make some sort of gambling system just like the heart foundation or the game Tango made in 3rd Life or if someone else made it before him, he'd gamble and probably somehow wins bc this mans luck is umatchable /silly

He could also probably do a Scar thing and try to scam people out of their stuff or money. All i'm saying this man could definitely gamble and scam his stuff away but he's probably gonna get out with profit at the end.

now if we're going at it per season, this is how i think RT/Magistrex would go:

3rd life: He's probably gonna be against dogwarts, probably trying to dismantle the "monarchy" from the inside out or as an opposition

last life: boogey gimmick introduction. he'd probably thrive a bit

double life: no thoughts rn bc idk who he would be paired up with

limited life: the season where death doesn't have that much of an impact, so i'd think he'd also thrive considering boogey system is back

secret life: probably would do almost all his task flawlessly

wild life: this is just the gambling season. let him gamble- /silly

but anyway RTgame in life series when /lh

OH ALSO EXTRA! RT seems to have quite a good character reading skills (which boost his charm and persuasion skills imo) so he definitely can pick and choose how he interacts w other players during the season

though if we're speaking realistically between you and me? he's probably gonna die first due to not having as much MC experience as the other characters /hj /lh

#justtrashask #ask #anon #magistrex #rtgame #RT in life series? sure #anyway this became a bit too long and probably a bit ooc but like #hey this is very self indulgent and i would LOVE the interaction he has w other players and characters

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pentrologram · 1 day ago

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What Normal People Do - 8

You're so, so pissed.

warning/cw for user having a panic attack- basically hurt no comfort

never mentioning how long it takes for me to write a chapter again because wow hi guys it's been two months... i'll be real, it's not my best work, but if i try to nitpick anymore this chapter'll be out when i graduate haha (additional: this is day 25 of my advent calendar! i know this was supposed to be out on christmas day, i'm sorry, i'm sick 😭)

ao3!

ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

(Why Did I Like You? Breaking it Off)

Your realization is a scary one.

It takes you taking an Uber home, collapsing in your bed and passing out and waking up before you realize the consequences:

Holy fuck, you loved them.

Them being a couple.

An established couple.

Who got along like water in a stream.

You came to another realization not too shortly after: there’s no way in hell you can tell them if you want your friendship to remain the same. And if you don’t want them to think of you as a creep- because that’s exactly how you feel.

You feel like a creep, wanting to be a part of their undoubtedly closed, private relationship, wanting to get closer than what’s acceptable, at least in your head. You don’t know when or how or why these feelings have arisen- all you know is that they are just there. And you certainly don’t appreciate them at all.

No, you determine yourself to push down these frankly irrelevant feelings. There’s no use for them by either party, anyway.

Little do you know that on the other side of the plaster and drywall , Johnny’s feeling the same as you .

He’s a lot less in denial about his feelings than you are, though. He came to terms with his feelings a long while ago, and he’s been a lot less subtle about his feelings, too. What with the way he had snuck food from his plate to your own when you ate dinner with them just because you said you liked a certain dish or how he had stopped you from paying for anything while at the countless (literally, countless) art fairs you had been dragged to or the hopelessly-in-love looks he gave you from the other side of a room.

However, much like you, he’s scared.

He’s been stockpiling, hoarding random facts about you and committing them to his memory, just to randomly delight you with something you assume he’d forgotten .

He and Simon have had thirds before, multiple times. People that had left well before morning, whatever. They’d never seen anyone like you before—sweet, little you. You who had barged into their hearts with your broken one, nestled deep, curled up and settled.

Still, he’s scared. He and Simon had never talked about their relationship like that before, because they never needed to.

You, though, were making him question things. He had always thought- assumed?- that Simon was the one and only person for him. Only Simon could fill a persistent ache in his heart, could soothe his overactive mind and lull him into rest. However, when you came along, suddenly Johnny felt the same way he had when he first met Simon. Suddenly, he was poking the bear that was the 6’4 masked Lieutenant in base after being transferred into the 141, giddy off of boyish nerves and fickle puppy love that soon turned into something more.

Suddenly, you make Johnny feel as though he’s a lot younger than he is.

And don’t get him wrong, it’s bloody amazing . He adores you- well and truly , he does. He’s scared of how Simon will react, though.

He and Simon are birds of a feather, really, and he knows that Simon likes you a fair amount. The real question is if Simon thought of you the way Johnny did, or if to him, you were just a good friend. It’s that thought that makes Johnny scared- that if he introduced the idea of including you in their relationship, Simon would be disgusted, maybe even offended. It’s that thought that gives him pause and stops him from bringing it up to Simon.

More fuel to the fire of your trepidation: you're so anxious about the sculpture. You know they know that it was someone else (technically), but the memory of throwing that sculpture- god, you feel terrible about it. Yeah, you were maybe a lot intoxicated, but it was still insanely terrifying. You just knew that if you were to go up to them unguarded they would split your brain open and see everything within you. They would be able to tell that you broke the sculpture and they’d see your weakness and then they’d hate you for it. You’re convinced that they’d hate you about it so much that they will get you kicked out of your lovely new apartment somehow, maybe from a friendship with the landlord, and then convince your job to drop you for being a deplorable sculpture-shatterer. Maybe they'd even go as far as to go onto the news about you and your deplorable-ness since Johnny had gained internet reach via the homophobic outburst. Maybe they’d turn you in to the cops. Maybe you’d get locked up, like how Simon was trying to get the original vandal to be. Needless to say, you didn’t talk to either of them about the incident, going rigid whenever it got mentioned, going to yourself ‘god, maybe they’ve found you out’ when all it is is Simon grumbling about the local police being little to no help. You’ve also been sort of avoiding them, not responding to Johnny’s texts as much or purposefully timing taking out the trash to catch Simon and Riley on their afternoon walks. You don’t think they notice, since they’ve been caught up in a sudden wave of support on practically all ends- you’re sure you saw a few strangers loitering on their doorstep a few separate times.

Despite all of your anxiety, life still moves on. You worked nearly every day for the past two weeks before getting two days off. The clinic had been swamped because a nearby elementary school had a lice outbreak; first-time moms who had never heard about lice shampoo came flocking to your practice. It probably would’ve been funny, you supposed, but it was just tiring to deal with back-to-back upset toddlers with upset parents. You were so tired that when Johnny reached out to invite you to watch a horror movie in preparation for Halloween, you couldn’t even bother with your anxiety declining, just wanting some sort of comfort.

Now, you’re at the boys’ apartment, contemplating the benefits of leaping out of their balcony; just to rid yourself of the near-crippling anxiety of being so close to the two of them. You're settled into the couch to watch Jennifer's Body with the boys, and Simon is lounged with his mask off and he has one burly arm over the top of the couch , practically over Johnny's shoulders as Johnny sort of sits right in the divot between Simon's cushion (since he’s buff enough to warrant his own cushion) and the cushion he should’ve been sitting on, enticing you to sit closer than normal to Johnny.

Knowing what you know now, you don't. Feeling what you do now, you don’t. You even take the opportunity to put a little space between you two, sitting purposefully on the other side of the couch. You’re honestly scared that if you do sit close to him, they'll take you sitting shoulder to shoulder with Johnny wrong.

You settle in, kicking your stocking-clad feet up onto the couch as you watch the first scene of the movie .

You zone out for a while and it’s not until Simon huffs a gruff chuckle at something or other- you weren't really paying attention- that you zone back in. Then, as if recalling something, his brown gaze bores directly through the fucking tissues of your face, right over an asleep Johnny, who had leaned in his sleep, his head now on your shoulder. He’s kind of (really) scary like this, just staring at you. It’s more tense without a lighthearted Johnny to diffuse the tension.

“You’re jumpy,” he observes.

“I’m not.” You’re not.

“Are y’ sure? You haven’t been seeming like yourself for a while, bun.”

“I’m fine.” You are. He scrutinizes you and you can feel a pit of anxiety in your stomach, which quickly turns into an irrational sort of anger. “Don’t look at me like that.” You half-snap. He had just looked at you so closely that you’re utterly convinced he knows exactly what you’re thinking, which only serves to irritate you further.

“Sorry.” He says, but he doesn’t seem sorry, only surprised.

“No, you’re not.” He’s not . His brow furrows.

“Bun, are you-“

“Stop.” You say, and he does. Johnny starts to drool. You look back to the movie. Simon doesn’t, and it ticks you off- his eyes are analytical but soft. Like he’s pitying you, which confuses you- what about you is there to pity? You’re convinced he knows everything about the sculpture now, what with the intensity of his gaze earlier. He should be feeling angry at you, not sorry for you.

“ Stop looking at me like that!” You burst out, making Johnny flinch awake, his head stuttering as it rises up from your tensed shoulders. He blinks blearily at you and your heart stutters, because even mostly asleep, he’s drop-dead gorgeous. He’s so pretty. It shouldn’t be allowed. Unexpectedly, it just adds more fuel to the fire that is your anxiety-driven rage.

“Wh’s-” Johnny starts.

“Bun, it’s okay- hey,” Simon cuts in.

“Fucking stop! I don’t get how you can be so- so calm all the time when you hate me,” you say, traitorous tears pricking at your eyes. “I know you know that I broke the vase, a-and it’s so infuriating when you act like nothing’s wrong! Like it doesn’t matter! Like you’re just- waiting for the perfect moment to strike on me and force me to pay my dues or something! Being quietly pissed off is shitty and rude and dehumanizing!"

You fight through the rising nausea and-

"-I hate that you know that I love you!" Embarrassment rises to your cheeks. It's slick and toxic, because *what the fuck*, no way you just said that?! You're fuming as you get up on unsteady feet and leave their apartment, narrowly avoiding the next wave of trick-or-treaters. You fumbled with your key before prying open the door of your apartment , falling onto your bed and crying into your pillow, frustrated with yourself.

That was awesome. That was great. You'd just confessed everything you knew they knew- if they didn't, they surely did now. They'd hate you. You really had to start detaching yourself from your apartment now, because you were almost 99% they would be reporting you for harassment or something to your landlord.

----------------------------------------

Both Simon and Johnny are confused as they sit on the couch in stunned silence in the aftermath.

"Well." Simon murmurs.

"Yeah.”

“I mean… well, fuck. Right bloody mess, that.”

“Only a mess? More like-” Johnny stops himself and bites his lower lip , hesitating .

“Well? Go’n, then,” Simon interjects, bumping Johnny’s shoulder. “More like what?”

Internally, Johnny berates himself for the slip-up, since the plan has never been to tell Simon the truth. To confess that he-

No, he’s sure Simon must have an inkling of the direction of the secret he’s concealed for the better half of a month. Simon knows him too well, too intimately, their souls too closely intertwined for any secret to survive longer than a month. He should just fess up, he knows, but speaking the words would only be painful and he feels like they both could do with a lot less pain.

“Si, it’s-”

“Bullshit,” Simon says nearly immediately, his eyes glaring daggers through Johnny’s skull, making him gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Jus’ spit it out.” He hisses.

“I… Si,” he sighs out. “Si, Ah really like them. Like, really,” he says sulkily. “Ah still love ye the same, an’ I still think you’re my soulmate an’ all, But…. Somethin’ abou’ them, Si, I dunno.”

“Ah, Johnny,” Simon says, sighing, drawing Johnny closer to his side. “Tha’ isn’t anything to worry about,” he rumbles, “I feel the same, y’know. Thought you clued it out by now.”

“Really?” Johnny asks, peering up at his lover.

“Yeah, really, with your dumbass.”

“Oh. Well. I think- I think they feel the same.”

“You think ? They fundamentally confessed, love,” he mutters.

“Yeah, ollright,” Johnny huffs. “What d’ya suppose we do, then, if yer all-knowing?”

“Well, we tell 'em, don’t we? Get them a nice dinner. Some wine. The works.”

“Uh-huh. I think they’re scared of us, though, Si,” Johnny says quietly.

“I think you’re paranoid.” Simon presses a kiss on Johnny’s forehead. Johnny huffs again but offers no further cheek. “I say we take ‘em out to Ivy Springfield’s. Alright?”

“Alright.”

<- back

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lucysarah-c · 1 day ago

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A while ago, I stayed at a close friend’s house—she’s a huge Sims fan. I’d never played The Sims 4 before, but I wanted to recreate places from Holy Ground (my other fic), and I’m sharing them here.

I remembered this the other day because one of the places I recreated was Erwin’s chambers as a squad leader. I gave extra attention to this part because Levi, as a captain, has the same type of chambers as Erwin had before becoming a commander.

Here’s the description I included with the pictures:

Honestly, I was planning to keep it simple, but after diving into manga/anime and game references, I realized his office is way fancier than I expected. If the colors of the wood or sofas don’t match perfectly, blame the limited shade options in the game, not me! Also, I know the carpet in Erwin’s office is supposed to be red, but the game didn’t have a nice red carpet to work with, so I improvised. By the way, someone needs to send help to Erwin because, based on the pictures I saw, he has an absurd number of books scattered everywhere. I tried my best to recreate that chaotic vibe. There’s also a small stand for medals, which I couldn’t include because the game doesn’t have them, but I’m certain Erwin would have plenty. Most of the art in his office seems to be degrees, certificates, or blueprints of his formation strategies, which I incorporated as much as possible. As a commander, I imagine Erwin would eventually have a bigger office—something more spacious to accommodate meetings, a larger bedroom, and maybe even a small living or dining area. But since he’s still just a squad leader in Holy Ground, his office isn’t quite that impressive… yet. Oh, and about the chair in his bedroom—yeah, there weren’t better options in the game, so just roll with it. In his personal space (like his bedroom), I imagine Erwin would allow himself a little more freedom with colors—maybe purples and greens, which I think he prefers over the red theme of his office. It’s a subtle way of showing a more relaxed side of him.

The general layout is the same as Levi’s chambers in Mounting Spring, so let me give you a quick walkthrough of “the place Levi keeps you locked up in.”

The basic setup includes an attached bathroom and bedroom. However, unlike Erwin, Levi’s space has not a single paper out of place—everything feels almost sterile. He owns significantly less furniture than Erwin too. For instance:

The chess table in the office? Gone.

Wall decorations? Gone.

In the bedroom, Levi would keep only the essentials: a dresser, a nightstand, the bed, a mirror, and maybe an additional wardrobe. He wouldn’t bother with an armchair or a second desk.

As for the bathroom, most of the furniture probably came with the space, but Levi keeps it mostly empty. The two bookshelves near the door? He wouldn’t have those either.

The remaining furniture—the sofas, coffee table, chairs in front of the desk, the desk itself, the bookshelves, the chimney, and the small table near the desk with fresh water—those would stay.

In the manga, Erwin’s chambers are shown to be overflowing with books. Levi, on the other hand, wouldn’t have a single thing lying on the floor. Most decorations would also be absent.

Levi’s approach to minimalism reflects his practicality. He has the same mindset as my mom: “The more objects in a house, the longer the cleaning session.” He hates clutter because it makes him think of all the dust that could accumulate.

And there you have it—Levi’s “home sweet home,” lmao.

#levi ackerman #aot #mounting Spring

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nicorobinphd · 2 days ago

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not to be overly vulnerable or anything, but am i the only person who doesn’t want a direct cross guild vs monster trio match up when the time to resolve their plot lines comes ‘round? obviously zoro vs mihawk is an absolute necessity, but when it comes to buggy & crocodile it feels like there are other characters that would benefit from the match up more & that would make the conflict more compelling.

that’s not to say there isn’t anything that could be done with sanji or luffy. there’s the mr. prince plot point, as well as the obvious comedic potential of another buggy vs luffy fight, it’s just??? idk it feels almost basic i guess. like if this is what we get i won’t hate it, but i also don’t think it’s the most interesting possibility either. i also have complicated feelings about whether i feel luffy would want direct conflict with either buggy or crocodile considering their roles in mf. like it obviously doesn’t resolve any of the issues luffy legitimately has with them, but i do think he’d avoid fighting them unless it was absolutely necessary as well.

personally i like the idea that’s been floating around about how the cross guild & blackbeard fights are going to overlap. i think it creates a really interesting opportunity to potentially introduce a similar battle dynamic to eneis lobby where, though there are clear final matchups, there’s a lot of fight-swapping based on strategy etc. as for buggy & crocodile specifically, i think nami (or potentially nami & usopp) vs buggy would be a very interesting fight, and seeing robin & crocodile have a serious go at it would be awesome (you could even potentially throw sanji in here somehow as a callback to wano!)

like i kinda feel like oda has been getting more into mixing things up with fights anyway (shout out to rebecca, usopp observation haki, nami in wci, carrot, the samurai, the black maria fight, & nami getting so mad she decides to try to solo big mom) & this would be a nice way to continue that trend if you get what i mean.

#but also like the idea of a blackbeard pirates vs crossguild vs straw hats MESS being intruded on by the marines as a contrast to the thing #w rocks is also a very neat idea to me. imagine the melodrama of it all.#anyways #sol speculates #<- new fun tag!#straw hat pirates #straw hats #cross guild #one piece

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strawberrygummiess · 3 days ago

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the nutcracker.

chapter 3 | chapter 4: march of the marzipan militia nutcracker x reader staff & reader che'nya x reader 2.3k words cross-posted on ao3 "He continues to talk, but you’ve stopped listening. Surely, he was exaggerating. A millennium? A thousand years? And you were still searching for them? There was no way the only solution to the Rat King was a fairytale. You would simply get Grim back yourself, Sugar Plum Fairy be damned."

The walk to Confiserie is quiet.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. You’d think that after your near-death experience, you could wrangle answers out of your Nutcracker friend. In the forest, when he held you tight to his chest and looked at you with such a look in his eyes, you figured you had made some progress in getting closer to him (albeit, with minimal effort on your end, but if you were so effortlessly charming than you would use it to your advantage). But once again, when you try to pry information out of him, he smiles and shakes his head, ignoring your badgering to continue walking.

At this point, you admit defeat. Maybe everyone from this mirror world is a strange creature, and you’re only offending him with your pestering. You had yet to meet another human since the rat attack, and based on everything that happened since then, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were far and few between.

You do consider it progress that he acknowledges you now, even if he quickly changes the subject. However, even if he won’t answer your questions about the land, or himself, you are set on finding something else to call him.

“What is your name? Or what can I call you besides Nutcracker?” you ask, looking down at your feet when you hear the clicks of your shoes. Slowly, the snow on the ground has given away to a worn stone path, signaling that you’ve finally left the snowy forest. The ground looks completely untouched by the winter air, the grass is bright green and healthy and the trees bushy and full. The view of the field is beautiful, and you gape in awe at the serenity of the walk.

“You’re very adamant on finding this out,” he says, shocking you out of your reverie. He says, continuing to look forward. You frown, increasing your speed until you move before him, stopping him.

“I will stop asking you personal questions if you tell me your name,”

He stares at you for a second, debating. For a second, you think you might’ve won him over, watching as he opens his mouth to answer you before he frowns, grabs your arm, and pulls you behind him, drawing his sword with the other.

“Who goes there?” he shouts, his grip still tight on your wrist. If the wood of his hand weren’t bruising the skin, it would be a comforting gesture. Instead, you wince in pain, trying to stay quiet.

You cower behind your Nutcracker, peering over his shoulder to see what spooked him. You hadn’t heard anything, and when you looked around him, you couldn’t see anything either. Rook would be ashamed of your subpar hunter instincts.

“What is it?” you whisper, standing on your tippy toes to whisper in his wooden ear. The Nutcracker doesn’t respond, continuing to point his sword ahead. If you squint, you can see the town center up ahead. Otherwise, all you can see are abandoned cottages and empty fields. The outskirts of the town were practically deserted, and you couldn’t help the eerie feeling rising through your chest.

It was a complete ghost town. Paired with the beautiful scenery, it looked more like a painting than a real town.

“It really is I, who should be asking you, ‘Who goes there?’”

The voice is so quiet, it sounds like a whisper in your ear. But when you turn, there is no one beside you. A giggle fills the air, ringing out like a horn, yet no one is around you or the Nutcracker.

“Show yourself!”

“We mean no harm!” You cry, putting your hand over the Nutcracker’s, urging him to lower his sword. “We just want to find the Sugar Plum Fairy.”

The voice laughs again. “A figure more elusive than I. You sure do have your work cut out for you,” You move around the Nutcracker, looking for the source of the voice, trying to find your way closer. Your Nutcracker reaches out for you, urging you to stay beside him, but you continue to search.

And then, out of thin air, pops a boy.

“Oh!” You cry, stumbling backwards. It’s not a full body, but just his head. He peers at you with a cat-like grin, purple locks blending in with his violet military beret. Where an insignia would be, is instead a sugar-coated sugar plum.

“Do you serve the Sugar Plum Fairy? Do you know where they are?” you ask pointing to the candy on his hat.

“We Marzipan serve all who need us,” he says, head bobbing between you and the Nutcracker. “Although we've been stretched awfully thin these days, due to the Rat King,” He sighs. You feel a weight on your back pushing you forward, realizing he’d languidly leaned on you for support. By now you can see his whole body, violet military uniform coming into view. He pokes your nose and giggles again.

“We’ve been stuck recruiting from all over the lands. Candy Canes from the north, Chocolates from the west, Coffee from the south,” he begins listing many different regions. You glance at the Nutcracker, hoping for some sort of clarity, but he glances at you with an equally bewildered look.

Weird meet weirder.

“So… help me understand a little bit,” you say, turning your head to look at the boy on your shoulder. He looked no older than a teenager yet was dressed up to fight in a war. You tried to ignore the pang in your chest at the thought. “You’re a part of a Marzipan Military- “

“-militia,”

“-Right, and you’re fighting the Rat King… and I’m guessing you don’t know where the Sugar Plum Fairy is.” You summarize, shifting your shoulder to get his head to lie comfortably. He takes the bait, practically purring as he stretches his neck into yours, relaxing.

“My, you’re smarter than you look, little human. No one’s heard from Sugar Plum in a millennium, it's unsurprising that in our time of need, they’re nowhere to be found. Our own Royal family though- “

He continues to talk, but you’ve stopped listening. Surely, he was exaggerating. A millennium? A thousand years? And you were still searching for them? There was no way the only solution to the Rat King was a fairytale. You would simply get Grim back yourself, Sugar Plum Fairy be damned.

“Your General, you say? Take us to him, won’t you?” The Nutcracker says, knocking you back into the present. The boy on your shoulder sighs, before pushing himself off your back, standing straight.

“Oh no, not I. I must remain at my post, but go on ahead- you’ll find him eventually,” he giggles, and just as he appears, he fades away, until nothing is left but his Cheshire smile.

You’re left stunned and turn to your Nutcracker, who tsks in irritation, before continuing to walk toward the town center.

Just like the outskirts of the village, Confiserie Town Center is barren. Shops are barricaded and boarded up, looking abandoned. The whole town seems completely deserted.

“Hello?” you cry out, much to the chagrin of your Nutcracker. “Is anyone here? We met your… uh… lookout!” You move through the town center, yelling at anyone who could hear you.

“Are you mad?” The Nutcracker cries, grabbing your arm. “Who knows what’s out here? You’re inviting anything out to attack you!” He chastises you, pulling you behind him, grip tight. You roll your eyes, annoyed with the knightly act by now.

“The Marzipan are fighting the Rat King. Clearly, they’re our allies. We might think to have their help against the Rat King instead of the Sugar Plum Fairy,”

“Preposterous!” A voice cries from the Town Hall. Scrambling out from behind boarded doors is a tall man with a shako hat, strangely bright yellow. In the center was a sugared lemon, matching his uniform. “There is no army in the world that can beat the Rat King, especially a hodgepodge militia!”

He scrambles over, and standing at full height, you’re surprised when he towers above you. He peers down at you, almost like a curious bird, tilting his head back and forth. “You are searching for the Sugar Plum Fairy? You dare brave our dangerous lands? How brave you are, how courageous!” He grins, grabbing your face and squishing your cheeks together.

“Are you the General of the Militia?” The Nutcracker asks, moving between you and the birdman. You’re thankful to be freed from the strong man, rubbing your sore cheeks. Everyone from this world has such a strong grip!

“Yes, yes, I so generously lent my expertise for a failure of a militia, and yet we lack manpower and support. It is quite sad indeed, is it not, my wooden lad?” The birdman says, bringing his hands to his head in shame. “How am I to fight a real army with a plethora of silly children and old men, I ask? If you’re set on finding Sugar Plum you must, oh yes, you must!”

You move to stand next to the Nutcracker, pouting. He gives you a smug look as if to say “See; we must find the Sugar Plum Fairy like I said,” glancing at the Birdman while he had his miniature tantrum.

“Excuse me!” you interrupt, waving your hands in his face. “We know the Sugar Plum Fairy hasn’t been seen in quite some time, but do you happen to know where we could begin to look for them? We need their help to defeat the Rat King, and free my friend.”

The Birdman stops for a second, rubbing his chin with his fingers. He mumbles a series of “no… no… maybe… yes, that’s it!” before snapping his fingers in excitement.

“Peach! Pear! Prune! Plum! I need your assistance!” he practically sings, cupping his hands around his mouth to announce his call.

From the boarded-up building, four men emerge. One is very old, much too old to be a part of any militia. The next is so skinny, you’d think he’s too malnourished to serve any use. The next man is incredibly muscular, large, and boisterous, with a shining smile. The last man is almost model-like, too pretty to be a part of any military.

“Quite a rag-tag group, is it not?” The Nutcracker whispers in your ear. You giggle and nod.

“Lads! These two brave souls are searching for the Sugar Plum Fairy. In my generosity, I’ve allowed them to confer with my intelligence team. Aren’t I so merciful!’

“Maybe so, if we had any information to pass on,” the older man, Prune, quips. “Alas, as you may know, the Sugar Plum Fairy hasn’t been seen in quite some time,”

“Yes sir,” you nod. “But we must! My friend was taken captive by the Rat King. I have to save him, and we can’t do that without their help!”

Prune hums, shaking his head. The muscular and the pretty man mumble to themselves, also seeming stumped by your predicament. The skinny man laughs, grasping you and the Nutcracker in his arms.

“All is not lost, Little Sweets! I may know a way to help you in your quest.” He says, leaning close between your faces. “The Sugar Plum may be elusive, but their magic can be called upon!” He releases your shoulders and fishes through his jacket pockets, pulling out a small sack.

“Sugar Plum is the guardian of the Land of Sweets. Legend states that they can be summoned only by gathering magic from every inch of the land and chanting the spell of Noel. And, luckily for you, Little Sweets, we’ve gathered many of the Lands’ people right here.” He gives you an impish grin. “You find the other soldiers, ask them for a little bit of… ah- pixie dust and you’ll be ready to summon Sugar Plum in no time,”

The Nutcracker outstretches his hand and Peach places the bag in his hand. “As a start, I’ve provided you the magic of the Marzipan. For free, of course, so long as you use your newfound knowledge for good. Help us defeat the Rat King and we’ll be indebted to you.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!” You cry, grasping his hands. “We will. I promise.”

“We will restore order and hope to these lands and release you from your duties. Soon the Marzipan may return to their ordinary lives,” The Nutcracker says, giving a slight, princely bow. “For now, if you may- point us toward your barracks. We must converse with the rest of the soldiers.”

The Lemon-General/Birdman directs you toward the barracks while chanting about his generosity and benevolence which fills you with a deep sense of Deja vu. The Nutcracker chimes in with polite remarks, nodding and agreeing while sending you occasional incredulous glances.

You were happy to see his sense of humor coming out after a while. You hadn’t learned his name yet, but maybe you could make a nickname for him. Nut? Nutty? Cracker? Scratch that- all of those were horrible! Maybe you were losing your touch. Or maybe you could spice it up somehow. How would Rook say it? Casse-noix? You could shorten it to just Noix, and he’d be none the wiser to his nickname just being “nut”.

When you begin giggling to yourself, Noix shoots you a questioning look. You smile at him, tilting your head as you inspect him. The classy red uniform (much nicer than the rest of the colorful military uniforms you have seen thus far) matches his gray hair quite nicely. Despite being made of wood, he was quite handsome. Noix definitely suited him.

With a newfound hope, you follow the Lemon General and Noix, ready to gather some magic.

#oh my god i was so sick yall #sooo so sick #anyways merry christmas #i've taken a lot of cough syrup so im loopy af #this probably reads like crazy dont mind that #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #che'nya #che'nya x reader #mozus trein #dire crowley #divus crewel #ashton vargas #sam twst #sam twisted wonderland

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