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#unsolved fic
shurisneakers · 3 months
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unsolved (ii)
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 at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.
A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy
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Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything. 
The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt. 
All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime. 
He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality. 
But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable. 
The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open– 
There’s no one on the other side. 
Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.
Shoot day. See you at the studio!
He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order. 
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The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.
He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.  
He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in. 
“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”
Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state. 
“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”
“I have my ways.”
Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity. 
“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss. 
He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not. 
You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already. 
“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.   
“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.” 
Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do. 
He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him. 
He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied. 
“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked. 
You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”
Bucky’s eye twitches. 
“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest. 
You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”
Well. No.
“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”
Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way. 
“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.
“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”
Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’. 
But the sentiment is appreciated.
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The studio is moderately big. 
You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity. 
He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it. 
You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.
“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”
Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes. 
“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.
You stop talking to look at him.
“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation. 
If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.
“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”  
“Makeup?”
“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”
Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.  
“Just say it’s part of the theme.”
You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.” 
So Bucky gets his makeup done. 
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By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.
The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms. 
“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.
Bucky wants to scream.
“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.” 
You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’. 
 Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.
“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him. 
“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin. 
Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.” 
“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces. 
“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.” 
That sounds…doable. 
“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate. 
“Recording in three…two…one–”
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The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead. 
“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.  
Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.
You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned. 
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You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this. 
So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.
You kick him under the table. 
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The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t. 
At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.
You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”
Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”
Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you  had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you? 
Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”
“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”
Bitch.
“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”
“Where?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”
Bucky doesn’t add anything further. 
You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue. 
“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”
Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit. 
“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”
“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest. 
“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”
Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.  
“What?” you challenge.
“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”
You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless. 
“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.” 
Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening. 
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Your eyebrow twitches.
You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated. 
You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top. 
You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion. 
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You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.
Collectively, every spine in the room straightens. 
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“Asbestos?” you echo.
“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago. 
You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this. 
“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.” 
You stare at him. “You’re lying.”
He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.” 
“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”
“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.” 
“Hallucinations?”
“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”
“And the bite marks?” 
“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”
“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”
Bucky shrugs. 
You look like you’re going to lose your mind. 
You clear your throat. “What about the priest?
Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?” 
“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?” 
“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”
“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better. 
“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.” 
You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.
“You’re bullshitting.”
“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”
“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”
“Because the house was haunted.”
“By mold.”
Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch. 
You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers. 
“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”
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The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.
But he’s already gone. 
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The video goes up that weekend. 
It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out  the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.
To Barnes (Work):
are you ready for your influencer era
He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.
To Barnes (Work):
influenza
Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies. 
The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.
And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved. 
From unknown
Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.
Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name. 
From unknown
Just letting you know though– he was lying.
From unknown
He doesn’t have an aunt. 
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Motherfucker.
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ollyrewind · 1 year
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ah yes, arthur and merlin, horror junkies
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autism-swagger · 7 months
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Since the identity of the Sweet Sixteen Killer is known in Timeline 2, I don't think it would be as big of a part of the town's identity as it in Timeline 1. So I propose that the big unsolved mystery the town builds itself around in Timeline 2 isn't the killings.
It's Jamie.
The supposed exchange student who was only in town for five days, who knew things she shouldn't (couldn't) have, who disappeared without a trace and, when looked into, never even existed to begin with.
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yuri-is-online · 2 months
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tragedy anon back again w u guess it!!! More tragedy!!! Im thinking rn of a Yuu who was always going to die in the end. Like being sent back to their world is the equivalent to a death sentence, and they can't stay in TWST because time always loops and they feel like shit for trapping everyone in a moment when they could all be living their lives if not for them.
Yuu who has always been doomed from the start.... Like maybe yuu has been framed for a crime back in their prev world and when they do come back their execution will commence or maybe it's the apocalypse and when they do come back it's truly only a matter of time when they die. Thinking of the TWST boys who goes to visit them only to find nobody..... But traces of them.... Though I feel like the first scenario is more brutal, imagine you go visit your friend and not only are they dead but they were sentenced to death for a crime you know damn well they did not commit and everyone else is rejoicing.
Rejoicing that they're gone. Rejoicing at the fact that they all had KILLED them. Did Yuu know this was going to happen? If they did why had they not told them?! (they will never know, no one ever will because no one ever asked when they were alive if they were alright and they sure as hell will never get an answer because Yuu is dead and they are gone. Forever. )
:3
Ah tragedy annon, my Billy Shakes if you will, this made me THINK think. Doomed (hehe dyuumed) by the narrative is such a sexy trope. "If you were dead at the end of the story you were dead since the beginning" my beloved.
The main thing that made me think is that in country's that have the death penalty there's typically a lengthy appeals process + a ban on sentencing minors to it, even if they were charged as an adult, that makes it hard for me to see that being Yuu’s situation. That being said I agree that would be an awful, awful thing to come see. I could see someone like Malleus, who hates seeing other people happy when he isn't and is prone to causing storm with his magic, going full Netflix Castlevania and starting an apocalypse in Yuu's world while bringing their body home to be laid in state in Briar Valley. It's his right as King of the Abyss after all. Someone like Riddle might try proving your innocence, thinking about how restoring your good name is all he can do while the Octatrio extract their own kind of justice.
The apocalypse Yuu scenarios are ones I like but haven't played around with much just because post apocalyptic settings aren't my jam but! I could see there being a lot of anger at this Yuu for not telling them their situation. Of course now that the boys are older, they can reflect on their behavior and know why Yuu said nothing. But it's easier to blame Yuu at first than accept that they're grieving. It would take them a long time to work through that I think.
My personal preference for scenarios like these involve Yuu being mortally injured before coming to Twisted Wonderland, either in an accident or an attack, that results in their death when they return. I've also played around with terminal illness that's temporarily cured by going to Twisted Wonderland (my own health issues have made me like that less :/) that Yuu isn't recovered from when they return. Either way Yuu is dead when their friends finally figure out a way to get to their world and they have no way of being there for them. And they have no one to blame but themselves... unless.
Unless...
Maybe they could re-set time again?
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thisapplepielife · 7 months
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kkpwnall · 7 months
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love is like ghosts (rated m | 7.7k) a spooky little ghost hunters fic featuring: skeptic eddie, believer steve, and a whole library full of ghosts!
it's officially the start of spooky season (TO ME) and i was struck by the urge to craft an actual cover for my beloved ghosthunters steddie fic. they are dork ass losers, the pining is mutual, and steve wears glasses in this one.
[snippet below the cut, read on ao3]
divider by @saradika
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They stand at the base of a short flight of stairs leading up to the old university library. From everything Steve’s read, it’s one of the most haunted places in Indiana… within a tank of gas’ drive… that would let them in after hours.
“It’s the witching hour,” Eddie says spookily. He’s come up behind Steve, pressing close and wiggling his fingers on Steve’s shoulders.
Steve huffs a laugh and starts double checking his pockets for his share of the gear. Something to focus on that’s not the way Eddie’s breath ruffles his hair and skims over his cheek, raising goosebumps in its wake.
It’s not like he doesn’t like the attention, the closeness, the physicality of Eddie. He does. Probably too much. Especially since they’re just friends. Steve knows he’s not special to be on the receiving end, it’s how Eddie is with everyone.
[keep reading on ao3]
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useyourglutes · 1 month
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i'm going back and re-reading all the fics i've posted on ao3 cuz i second guess myself but like, WHY AM I LOWKEY EATING WITH THESE??? HOLY SHIT THE 4AM FUMES MADE ME MODERN FUCKING SHAKESPEARE BRO
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whomst-the-hell · 1 year
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steddie buzzfeed unsolved au. the boys explore various true crime cases and supposedly haunted sites across the country and fall in love along the way (not to imply anything abt shane and ryan /gen) ive seen a few but they all get one key detail wrong: steve is shane, eddie is ryan.
eddie is passionate about all of their cases— he started the show, originally with his friend gareth who decided to pursue other opportunities. he wholeheartedly believes in all the things that go bump in the night. he is also a self proclaimed coward who tends to scream, curse or even flee when shit gets real. he’s dedicated to the cause though and works through his fear
steve is passionate too, of course — he absolutely pulls his weight in the show and cares a lot abt it all and is genuinely very proud of their content. he just… doesnt believe in the supernatural. its all bullshit, so there’s nothing to be scared of. he takes joy in calling all sorts of ghosts, ghouls and demons “nerd ass punk losers who get no bitches” and doing comedically deranged shit like stealing a bridge or laying on a pentagram or whatever while eddie hyperventilates across the room
except the upside down shit all still happened (excluding eddie, obviously) so steve is 100% aware of the supernatural shit that does exist in the world. after alternate hell dimensions, he wouldnt Really be surprised by ghosts, though he is genuinely sceptical of most evidence.
eddie is infinitely confused by his cohost — he staunchly rejects even the most damning supernatural evidence, but he is a member of the most bizarre group of people eddie has ever met. and he’s superstitious abt the weirdest shit as well — flickering lights, faulty magnets, broken compasses. he once hurried them out of a building during an investigation because they heard a weird clicking sound, spent about 15 minutes on the phone with someone called owens to confirm that “everything was still shut off” (and what the actual fuck does that even mean????) before apologising for the ‘false alarm’ and suggesting they just continue the investigation and cut all that shit from the video. it was the first time any of the crew, including eddie, had ever seen steve scared.
eventually, once theyre together, steve tells eddie about his own experiences with the supernatural, with a handy demonstration from el to really sell it. eddie is horrified, especially when steve tells him he still doesnt believe in demons.
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moonshynecybin · 3 months
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In a reconciliation world, what do you think it would take for Vale’s whole entire brain to jump in there?
Like you say he is repressing the fact that he’s in love with Marc. What makes him say: Ohhhhhhh that’s what that was.
THIS ONE IS HARD ummm see the thing is. they havent reconciled in the last 8 years.... and well. a large amount of history resentment and ego is preventing that from happening. which means we are left to theater of the mind to heal one of the most entrenched sports divorces EVER. one that has become a major part of their respective legacies and has been highly publicized by them both. so theyve got a lot on the line if they want to reconcile. and ive said that i DO think it should be valentino to make the first move here but um. well. i genuinely dont know how to get him to that point ! ive got amporphous ideas about a post-retirement crisis/re-evaluation (helpfully dovetails with marc having the worst time vis a vis his injury), them being in forced proximity and remembering they have insane chemistry/the same sense of humor, marc publicly looking like a slut, and many other somewhat plausible scenarios but until it happens (IT WILL. please please please youre nothing) im just throwing darts at the board.
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pjohoo-reclists · 9 months
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Buzzfeed Fic Recs
A list of fics where mortals discover demigods via buzzfeed, and go nuts over the conspiracies. Last updated 8/8/23. Enjoy!
The Baffling Transcontinental Road Trip of Percy Jackson by CassandraStarflower
Gen | 2.0k | Complete
Percy Jackson, Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara
POV Outsider
“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we cover the case of Percy Jackson.”
The Odd Abduction of Percy Jackson by The_German_Grim_Reaper
Gen | 2.2k | Complete
Percy Jackson
Alternate Universe - Buzzfeed Unsolved Fusion, Book 1: The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson)
This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we investigate the two-week disappearance of Percy Jackson and the odd occurrences surrounding it.
#thatjacksonsequel by The_German_Grim_Reaper
Gen | 2.3k | Complete
Nancy Bobofit, Percy Jackson, Rachel Elizabeth Dare
Twitter, POV Outsider, Social Media
Nancy and her fellow sleuths continue their online investigation into Percy Jackson, subject of a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode and now a Twitter celebrity.
The Strange Case of Perseus Jackson by Deerlie_03
T | 2.5k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Dialogue Heavy, Attempt at Humor, Book 1: The Lightning Thief
“Hello and welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved, today we’ll be talking about a unique case,” Ryan introduces as the title graphic flickers over the screen. “Aren’t all of our cases unique?”  Shane furrows his brows.  “Isn’t that, like, our whole thing?” “Well yes… but this one is kind of a biography, and the person right in the middle of this is still very much alive,” “And it’s still unsolved?” “Yep.  Today’s case is about the strange case of Perseus Jackson,”
the jackson files by Ideasofmarch
Not Rated | 4.4k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Twitter, Conspiracy Theories, based of the tumblr post
Makin’ pancakes @makinbaconpancakes Does anyone know who the fuck Percy Jackson is??? Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd Whomst? Makin’ pancakes @makinbaconpancakes Check rachel dares insta story Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd k Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd Okay somebody find out who this kid is right damn now. - Rachel Elizabeth Dare posts a video of Percy on her instagram story. it all just spirals from there.
Percy Jackson: The Meme by NeedsCaffeineRightNow
Gen | 5k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Sorta Like they're literally in it but on a video, Based on a Tumblr Post
Percy gets kinda well known and then is a meme
#thatjacksonkid by The_German_Grim_Reaper
Gen | 5.8k | Complete
Nancy Bobofit, Piper McLean, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Leo Valdez
Social Media, POV Outsider, the PJO and HoO gang are college age
Following an episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved, several twitter users do their best to uncover the truth about Percy Jackson. They get surprisingly far.
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fic-recommended · 9 months
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Shyan Fics
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I’ll Crawl Home – carrieonfighting
(16,024 words / 6 chapters / Teen and up)
Tags: Demon!Shane, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, bc im PRETENTIOUS, Protective!Shane
"Shane was almost unnerved by how quickly he’d settled into this body, this name, this life - his friendship with Ryan was the most time he’d spent with any human before, and yet the man fascinated him."
Wow. That’s all I gotta say. I started reading Shane/Ryan fic because I had a weird dream and went looking for comfort fic to ease the edges of my mind. I stumbled upon this fic and was so fucking blown away. I was drawn in because of the demon!Shane tag and the way this story is charted out is insane. It’s nonlinear (there is a liner version tho I’m strongly against it). Just ohmygod read this fic it’s insane and hurts so good.
I’m Gonna Keep You in Love with Me (for a While) – beethechange
(21,847 words / 1 chapter / Explicit)
Tags: fake married, also real married, friends to husbands to lovers to ???, Las Vegas Wedding, possible dubious consent due to alcohol consumption, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Rimming, just assume most of the kinds of sex are present here, probably more Celine Dion than you were hoping for, they say "fuck" a lot, also "dude" but I don't make the rules okay, Bedsharing
Shane is pacing around the hotel room. It’s not a huge room and Shane’s legs are long enough that he doesn’t have much real estate to pace before he has to swing back around for another loop.
“Can you stop?” Ryan asks. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“Okay,” Shane says finally. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re just going to—we’re going to be married. The only way out is through.”
“Um,” Ryan says, because this plan strikes him as counterproductive to their shared goal of not being married.
To me there are the big two when thinking of Shane/Ryan fics. That is to say the others aren’t amazing but two gutted me in a way I was not expecting from I ship I don’t even ship. This is one of the two and fucks sake it hurts me but in a way I really like and neeeeeded. (The other is the one above this)
Muscles Better and Nerves More – beethechange
(26,301 words / 1 chapter / Explicit)
Tags: Bodyswap, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, First Time, Pining, Slow Burn, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Body Horror, Rituals, Swearing, Sexy Shame
“I’m serious,” Ryan says. “Don’t go fucking up my body. I want that shit back in the same condition I left it.”
“The same condition—Ryan. I’m not spending hours in a gym every day so you don’t lose muscle mass.”
“I want you to treat my body with the respect you would a national park. Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but memories.”
***
A certain meddling Voodoo Queen of New Orleans thinks Ryan and Shane need some new perspective on life. After an inadvisable ritual deposits Ryan in Shane’s body, and Shane in Ryan’s, the ghoulboys pursue some soul-searching and self-discovery to put things right. Sometimes in a sexy way.
I have found out while reading this fic that I am also a sucker for bodyswap!au. Something about learning to love someone completely while seeing (and being lmao) all of them is so intimate and endearing to me. Plus there’s dumplings in this fic and that is just sweet sweet poetry.
If you can find a way to love me, it’s all right – varnes
(11,232 words / 1 chapter / Teen and up)
Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Psychic Ryan
When Ryan was a kid, he fell into a pile of bricks. They were playing hide and seek, and he thought he had the best hiding spot: high up in a thickly lush tree, his knees drawn to his chest so that he’d blend in. But the branch broke. He hit his head and doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. When he woke up a few hours later, the sun was setting, and his friends were gone, and his parents were calling for him, their flashlights swinging across the grass. There’d been blood on his bangs.
Anyway, now he can see ghosts.
Kind of.
Look, he’s not great at it.
--
Or: Ryan, personally, has three lists: “NICE GHOSTS,” “GHOSTS I DON’T FUCK WITH,” and, “IDK, SPOOKY STUFF.”
Oh my goddddd this fic is so sweet and so owie. At first I was skeptical because the fanon is that Shane can see demons or ghosts or whatever. But having it be Ryan???? So owie in such a good way. Other then this fic being the masterpiece that it is, I’m going to convince you with one sentence: Ryan has a cat with a ghost in it that demands Taco Bell. That’s it baybee. Read it or you’ll regret itttt.
BFFS Get Married For A Week – Ryan and Shane – aspookycryptidsock
(18,108 words / 8 chapters / Explicit)
Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Pining, Mutual Pining
"As I was saying," Curly continues with a pointed glare in Ryan's direction. "It's my honor to join the two of you in unholy matrimony. The rules are simple, you'll live together, plan one date each, and cherish each other. Til week do you part."
I first read this fic years and years ago. I don’t know how it happened but me and my best friend found it while being at a library and we went feral reading it before their mom picked us up. It’s my origin story to the ship. This fic is my first love and my baby gorl. Shane is intense in a way I lovelovelove. Ryan is dumber then a pile a bricks amen.
Body Farming – shiphitsthefan
(7,251 words / 1 chapter / Explicit)
Tags: Season/Series 04, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Shane Madej, Protective Shane Madej, Omega Ryan Bergara, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Scenting, Multiple Orgasms, Knotting, Daddy Kink, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Filth with Feelings, Community: bfukinkmeme, Multisex Omega
Failed suppressants and a surprise heat: the worst of cliches, and here Ryan stands, living the trope on location with the alpha he’s hopelessly in love with. Even worse, they’re spending the night in the famous Bell Witch Cave, completely alone and with no way to contact the outside world.
Ryan knows he can survive and keep his preheat a secret, as long as Shane will stop being so protective and concerned. After all, it’s not like Shane wants to bond with him.
Right?
Your honor I’d like to state my case by saying being horny on main is bc I’m silly goofy and I never meant no harm. ABO fuck or die in a cave? Fuccck kkkk y e aaaa
Por Favor, Sweetheart – carrieonfighting
(7,859 words / 1 chapter / Teen and up)
Tags: Kid Fic, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Accidental Baby Acquisition, ryan dadgara, and shane dadej, Original Baby Character - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, You Have Been Warned
Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late
Alternatively, Ryan Bergara is Trying His Best Thanks
Ryan gains custody of a baby and is strugggglinnnggg until a Sasquatch comes and helps <3. Ain’t nothing says romance baybeee then an actual baby.
daring it’s a faded notion – varnes
(28,760 words / 5 chapters / Explicit)
Tags: Paranormal shenanigans, y'all remember that trope where people can't be more than 5 feet apart without Suffering?
The sun is too bright and Ryan’s whole body is alight with something that is eating him all the way up from the inside out, but he keeps his eyes open and he makes himself look, and he tells himself that once he finds Shane, he’ll think about it. Once he finds Shane, they’ll make a plan. Once he finds Shane, and only then, he’ll let himself have the thought he’s been swallowing down like bile since he came to: that they didn’t fall.
They were pushed.
OR: Ryan and Shane get cursed by a ghost, and now they can't be not-touching. It's ... not great.
Ghosties don’t like the no homo and said ummm yeeeeet!!! Into the Grand Canyon then the ghoul boys kiss???? Makes me go hubba hubba
Collide - needywitch
(35,310 words / 2 chapters / Explicit)
Tags: Pining, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Biting, First Time, Dirty Talk, Love Confessions, Rough Sex, Shane Madej Has a Big Dick
Ryan is desperately in love with his best friend.
Owieeeeeee. This one made me cryyyy. The prose of this fic along with a healthy usage of the word jaunty made this fic deeply emotional as well as made me want to cry when they kissed. Very excellent
A Perfect Piece of Ass, Like Every Californian - beethechange
(25,706 words / 3 chapters / Explicit)
Tags: entirely self-indulgent PWP, smut with feelings, Threesome, Birthday Sex, Oral Sex, lotta ball stuff here folks, so i hope you like balls, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Sexy Air Traffic Conducting, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
“Happy birthday, Shane,” Sara says. “I got you a Ryan.”
“Th—thanks?” Shane says. He looks at Ryan and Ryan just looks back, weirdly impassive, giving nothing away. “But I’m pretty sure I already have a Ryan in this model. What’s the return policy?”
“Not like this, you don’t,” she says, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. Out of the corner of his eye Shane can see Ryan bring his hand to his mouth, stifling a snicker that he turns into a cough. Oh, he thinks.
Oh shit.
I’m not gonna sit here and pretend that this fic is morally correct but Shane/Sara/Ryan fic is what I needed and it blew me away and it is the best smut thank you goodnight
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shurisneakers · 3 months
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unsolved (i)
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 any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.
A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3
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Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.
Apparently. 
On God, he cannot fathom why.
He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  
By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  
“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.
“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”
Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 
“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 
He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.
“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 
Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”
“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 
“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”
His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  
“And also you signed the contract.”
Well. Shit. 
Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.
Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 
“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”
The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 
“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”
Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.
Maya stares at him.
Bucky stares back.
“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”
“No.” 
The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.
“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”
“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”
A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 
“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”
Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.
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So they stick him in a couple of interviews.
Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.
Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.
He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.
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They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.
They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 
The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 
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They give him access to his Twitter. 
He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 
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Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 
“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 
It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 
Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.
He begrudgingly agrees. 
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Therefore, it begins. 
They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 
Then the jokes really start.
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“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 
Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  
He is not put in another video. 
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And so he finds himself here. 
In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.
Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.
“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”
“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”
Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 
“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 
“No.” 
For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 
“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”
Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 
Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 
“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”
Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 
“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”
While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 
Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.
“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”
He wordlessly shakes his head. 
Been the former, seen too much of the latter.
Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  
He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 
Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”
“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”
“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.
“Other people have seen ghosts.”
“Good for other people.”
The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 
“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”
Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 
“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”
You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.
“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”
“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 
“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”
“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 
“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.
“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”
“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 
You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.
“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 
“No.”
“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.
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Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  
“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”
“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 
“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 
Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 
He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 
You were… loud. And open. 
Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 
Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”
Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.
“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”
Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.
“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”
 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 
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“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.
“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”
“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 
“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”
“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 
“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”
“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”
“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.
Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 
“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.
Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 
Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.
“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 
He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.
“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.
Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 
“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”
“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”
Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?
Yay. 
“One video,” he reiterates.
You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 
“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 
Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”
He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.
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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!
also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3
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hauntedpearl · 10 months
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the thing about cas is like. he might literally hear dean compare himself to john and cas to mary to talk about something but he'd just be like. yeah. yeah that's because I'm his friend and dean feels things so intensely and also the only relationship he knows to compare everything to is his dead parents so he just says that it doesn't mean anything. and the thing is like. he's not wrong. dean IS like that but also. BUT ALSO. IN THIS CASE. IT DOES MEAN SOMETHING AND YOU PLAYED YOURSELF
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jeepersss · 10 months
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i hope the house remembers. i hope you become part of its history, etched in its cancerous walls as it grows and dies in the same breath. i hope the memory of you becomes locked up in each penitentiary, asylum, and prison cell that you stepped into. i hope your names join the rest, i hope it repeats it back to you, doesn't. whispers it in your ear in the night.
don't you get it?
we are the haunting. the house remembers, the house breathes. the souls that each passed through haunt it like unwelcome visitors. the house asks: why would you do these things? inside my body? why wasn't i good enough for something better?
and here you come, spitting static into the empty night, rousing those lost souls--churning the dead stomach of this house. it has become hungry in our absence. each room a mouth.
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hippolotamus · 10 months
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Tagged by @panbuckley. Thank you dearest (if I haven't mentioned it I am living for Sugar Daddy Buck)
No Pressure tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @elvensorceress my beloved @lizzie-bennetdarcy @buddierights @911onabc @littlebitofdiaz @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @spotsandsocks @apothecarose @rmd-writes @jesuisici33 @the-likesofus @megsvstheworld @honestlydarkprincess @prince-buck-diaz @monsterrae1 @heartbeatdiaz
So here we are, still at the Conservatory ball, but at least we've moved to Eddie's POV. Huzzah!
“Well?” Helena prompts, gesturing toward the crowd.  “Well what?” He asks, mostly to irritate her. He knows what she’s after. She wants him to get out of his own head, lock eyes with someone and fall to his knees, proposal at the ready. Perhaps not that exactly, but it doesn’t seem like an unreasonable assumption. What she does next turns out to be so much worse.  “You should have plenty of options, Eddito. After all–” Helena raises her voice, making sure everyone in a twenty foot radius can hear her. “This is the season the Viscount intends to find a wife.” Suddenly conversations are halted and heads are turning to look at him from every direction. His pulse picks up and the air becomes thin, making it harder to breathe. Spots begin dancing around the edges of his vision, his fingertips tingling, as a gaggle of predatory debutantes dressed in lace and jewels begin flocking towards him.  “You really just did that?” He grits out. His mother answers with a tone that could only be described as self-satisfied and smug. “I believe I did.”
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sattlersquarry · 9 months
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worse than ghosts masterlist (steve harrington x fem!reader, buzzfeed unsolved au)
👻👻👻
Y/N is a producer on YouTube’s most popular ghost-hunting show. When she and the Spirit Search team travel to Hawkins, Indiana to film their second season premiere at the Creel House, they discover that some things are worse than ghosts.
prologue
part 1
part 2
part 3
finale
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