#a game about a young witch investigating the disappearance of a pet — not even a person. not even HER pet — isn’t the same

[testostergnomes]

Tags courtesy of @streetsandsodiumlights

Mom they're gentrifying disco elysium

[helloprettybb]

we belong together

I’m back from the blackout! I started a crap ton of fics, but didn’t have ambition to fully fledge them out. I suggest listening to Ritchie Valens’ We Belong Together because it’s such a vibe. Also, I love 50s music and it’s just so Steve so there’s going to be a lot of 50s song fics. Reader is over 18, but young so like early 20s. I’ll write a part two if that’s something you’d want.

warnings- age gap sorta, angst

word count- 2.1k

You’re mine And we belong together Yes, we belong together For eternity

Steve steps through the doorway of the common room. He hears music coming from the kitchen and if he stretches his ears, he can hear a faint humming. The voice is soft and pretty, yet familiar. He feels very disoriented, but before he could dive into that feeling, something in him makes him venture into the kitchen to investigate the sound.

He enters the kitchen and sees you dancing. It’s an interesting sight, to say the least. Your back is to him and the dress, which dips down to right above your waist, is the same dress you wore at your first gala with the team. The blue and silver sparkles shimmer down your body as the kitchen lights shine against the bodice. The dress shows every curve of your body and Steve may or may not be blatantly staring. You look as beautiful as you did the night of the gala. Steve looks down at his plain t-shirt and slacks in slight embarrassment. 

Almost as if you sensed his presence, you turn around. Beaming happily, you greet him, “Hello, love.”

Love? Something doesn’t feel right, but Steve can’t deny the fluttering in his chest when you call him that. You step closer to him and grab his hands. He doesn’t resist and you ask, “You alright, my dear?”

“Uh, yeah, I think,” Steve replies unsurely. You move his hands to your waist and Steve can’t help but lightly stroke his fingers up and down the bodice. The jewels are slightly rough and he years to feel the soft skin underneath. 

Wait, what is happening? This isn’t normal ,and something is definitely off. As if you could sense his uneasiness, you look up at him innocently and ask, “Do you love me, Stevie?”

Steve’s hands freeze at your waist. Of course, he loves you. But it feels like he shouldn’t say it back, so he asks, “Uh, doll? What’s going on?”

You brush his question off with a laugh, “Nothing, honey.” Caressing your hands over his chest, you lean closer to him and ask, “Do you love me?”

Steve doesn’t know why you keep insisting that he says that. He looks deeper into your eyes and he notices a detail that makes him tense up. Their usual liveliness and amusement are gone and look almost dead. You notice the displeasure on his face and question, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you could never do anything wrong,” he responds, releasing you from his hands and leaning back on the counter. Maybe if he separates from you, he could clear his mind.

“Why don’t you love me?” you exclaim out of agony. You bury your head into his chest and start to cry. Steve instinctively wraps his arms around you. He doesn’t know what to do and his uncertainty is replaced with panic.

Stroking your hair, he frantically says, “I love you, Y/n. I promise, I do!” You calm down immediately and Steve’s uneasiness returns. 

Looking up at him, you command, “Kiss me.”

“What?” Steve asks.

“Kiss me, Steve. Please,” you beg, watery eyes big and wild. Steve stutters, not knowing what to say or do. Before he could form a real sentence, you surge forward and connect your lips rather forcefully. Steve is taken aback, but his body takes control and his hand snakes up to your cheek. The kiss is beyond compare, which is the problem. Everything is almost too perfect

Your lips are too soft for someone who constantly forgets to put on chapstick. Your hair perfectly frames your face, but Steve knows there are numerous baby hairs that fall near your eyebrows. The final nail in the coffin is your skin. It’s smooth and even everywhere, but it’s wrong. You have a scar from a four-inch dagger on your shoulder, there’s a dimple on your collarbone and an indent on your right arm. Whoever made this simulation was close, but not good enough.

The two of you pull apart and the fake you smiles. Steve knows that whatever he says to you will never see the light of day. “I love you,” he says one last time before his world disappears.

“You okay, Cap?” he hears over the com. Steve looks around and remembers where he is. Clint strolls over to him and helps Steve to his feet. 

He quickly avoids any questioning by responding, “Yes,” He asks to divert attention, “Where are the others?” Clint briefs Steve on everyone’s situation. They all hang their heads low as they head to the plane.

Almost everyone got hit, but Steve felt shame. Everyone thought it was because Ultron and the kids defeated them and managed to get away, but it wasn’t that. He’d never tell anyone the real reason why he was so affected by the witch’s mind games. Sulking in the quin jet, Steve sits in the corner and reflects on the dream. 

He started with the easy ones. You were wearing the dress because that was the night of your first gala and unbeknownst to you, the night Steve fell head over heels for you.

“How do I look?” Steve hears behind him. He turns to see you walking down the stairs toward him. He probably looks like an idiot with his jaw to the floor, but at the moment, he didn’t care. 

He’s seen you in formalwear for undercover missions, but this is the first time you’re wearing a dress that doesn’t have a weapon hidden, or at least, it shouldn’t. Whoever picked it out should be given a raise because you look absolutely radiant. 

Starting from the floor up, your high heels raise you a couple inches, but not enough to be eye level with him. The skirt skids the floor slightly, but Steve’s more distracted by the slit on the left side that leaves your thigh exposed and directly leads up to your-

“You never answered my question, doofus.” you jest. Steve was too busy ogling you to even realize you were already down the stairs, let alone answer your question.

Steve clears his throat and replies, “You look great.” He feels like such a chump. He mentally curses himself for not thinking of a better compliment, but you seem satisfied, laughing heartily. Maybe it’s because you had a more modest wardrobe, but when Steve looked down at the intricate beading and glittering jewels, he got caught at your chest. He instantly felt disgusted that he’d think such unsavory thoughts about you, but he can’t help it. And if your perfect cleavage wasn’t enough, the fact that the entire dress was only held up by skinny straps made Steve feel both ashamed and lustful.

You break his immodest train of thought off when you link your arm in his and ask, “Ready to go?”

The dress was easy, but Steve also remembered that you called him an odd variation of names. Never in real life has he heard you call him Stevie, let alone love or my dear. Maybe it was your affinity for old movies and what you called their “old-fashioned pet names.” To Steve, they were normal, but he’d never tell you that at risk of aging himself even more.

But why were you so insistent on him saying he loved you? 

“I’ve never said I love you.” You confess. It’s just the two of you since the rest of the team has plans. It’s still movie night, so you asked Steve if he still wanted to do it. He readily accepted, but in hindsight, realized it wasn’t the best idea. The first bad idea of the night was when he let you choose the movie. You picked a soppy vintage romantic movie about some girl wanting something and some guy wanting something else. Steve didn’t really remember the details and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t because of the second bad idea. Instead of grabbing two separate blankets, you chose a giant one that could cover the both of you. Steve ended up taking 90% of it while you were left with hardly anything. Your solution was to curl up in a ball and nestle up next to Steve’s side. Your small body against his made concentrating on the movie impossible causing Steve to turn his focus to someone else. 

“Really?” Steve asks, glad to break the forty-minute silence. 

Shaking your head, you reply, “Nope. My parents weren’t very affectionate so I never felt the need to say it.”

“Well, friends can say I love you.” Steve reasons, hoping he wasn’t sounding too desperate.

You shrug, “I guess, but I feel like, at this point, it’d have to be special for me to say it.” Picking at the kernels in the popcorn bowl that the two of you shared, you say, “I just don’t get how people can say it so easily.” Gesturing to the TV, you add, “Like this woman just met him two days ago, yet she already said she loved him.”

“Well, some people just know.” Steve responds. He looks down and sees you staring up at him innocently. Maybe it’s the wide, gentle look in your eyes, but it feels like his heart fills with words and spur him on to ramble, “Y’know, like soulmates.” You nod and Steve feels your head lower to his chest. 

He continues, “Of course, you should get to know the person a little bit, but sometimes it doesn’t take much. They already know that they want to spend eternity with them. They just belong together and would swear by everything they own that they are each others’. They know that they’d do anything for them and never let any harm come to them. They’d just hold them in their arms and protect them from the world.” 

Steve pauses and regains himself. He doesn’t know where all that came from and just how much he revealed during it. But then he hears the rhythmic breathing beneath him. Looking down, he sees that your eyes are closed and mouth is slightly open. Fast asleep, you’re still holding onto him and Steve can’t help but smile as he turns the television off and holds you a little closer.

The night that could have been.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a figure stand up and move toward him. He doesn’t even need to look up to know it’s you, but your voice confirms it. “Hey, did you get hit, too?” Steve nods and you ask, “Do you know why we saw those visions?”

“No clue, but my guess is that they tried to tear the team apart.” Steve responds thoughtfully.

You ask, “Well, did it work?” Steve looks around at the jet and sees the atmosphere that the witch’s mind games created. Natasha’s in one corner, twirling a knife around while Clint tries to talk to her. Tony’s hidden in the cockpit, even though he could just set the plane to autopilot. Thor looks like he’s deep in thought as he paces back and forth the longest part of the plane.

You take his silence as an answer and say unprompted, “I saw my parents.” Steve’s eyes turn back to you and he sees you slump a little lower, “They were telling me I was a disappointment and would never amount to anything.” He can tell that you’re still a little shaken up.

“I’m sorry.” Steve responds, not knowing how to make anything better, especially after his dream about you.

“It’s okay. Just shows me that I still haven’t gotten over them.” you admit a little sadly. Changing the subject, you ask, “What’d you see?”

Steve can’t tell you the truth, can he? If he does, he doesn’t know what you’d say. You could be disgusted and never speak to him ever again. You’d probably hate him for having a perverted crush on you.

And even if you did reciprocate your feelings, what would the team think? They already call him The Man Out of Time and half-heartedly joke that he’s a senior citizen. He knows they’re just joking, but every joke has a little truth in it, right? They’d probably shun him for being a creepy old man, preying on a younger girl.

Lately, some of the jokes have been geared toward you and how it seems you’ve become his caretaker for how much time you spend with him. No, even if there was a chance, he couldn’t risk damaging your reputation

With all those thoughts racing in his head, he simply replies, “I saw Peggy.”

[hermitcraftfun]

*DISCLAIMER*

This is not intended to be ship content! This is merely a fun au! Any characters that were intended to be in a relationship in the source material are no longer in one!

This is the first installment of my Coraline AU! Comment below or message me if you want to be added to the taglist.

Chapter 1: The Pink Palace

It was a quiet, chilly day when The Jones’ arrived at their new home in Oregon. The youngest of them, Tubbo was wandering around, excited to explore when he was released from unloading duties. If the boy remembered correctly there was a well nearby. Scanning the ground he found something that would help.

Picking up the Y-shaped branch the little green-haired boy followed the wind as it whipped around. A smile curled upon his lips as he could smell an oncoming thunderstorm, the air tasting saltier than it did in Michigan. Despite expecting it to start thundering soon he was nonetheless startled by a crash of thunder. He paused where he stood and looked around his eyes widening when a flash of lightning accompanied a loud growl. The young boy didn’t want to get eaten, so of course, he started to run away from the sound looking around.

Thunder and lightning crashed once more before he turned and sitting on a stump in front of him was the source of that demonic growling.”Stupid cat! You scared the living daylights outta me!”The young boy exclaimed to the blonde stray. He sighed and lifted the “dowsing rod” back up hoping to find the well he had initially come up here to investigate.

After a bit of pacing in circles, there was a particularly loud clap of thunder that lasted longer than supposed to and sounded like a dirt bike. Tubbo looked over and at the top of the hill ahead of him was a man in a strange mask. The man-made his way down the hill as Tubbo stood in place trying to process what was happening. One thing Tubbo knew was he was gonna stand his ground. He raised the stick and hit the figure while it was driving by. Whatever tongs or grasping tool the being had it grabbed him and yanked him off of his feet from where he was staying.

Tubbo yelped and looked over at the figure that had just dragged him to the ground. The mask came off and… That was a child. Probably the same age as the green-haired boy. “Let me guess… Somewhere barren… Like Utah or Texas? Y’know. You seem to be some sort of water witch.”The blonde asked, tilting his head to the side, examining the stick a smirk widening on his cheek.

“It’s a dowsing rod.”Tubbo huffed standing and groaning a bit when he felt the aches from being dragged off his feet. He swiped mud off of his raincoat and looked at the kid. “I’m Tubbo.”He greeted watching as the cat curled around the boy’s legs.

The blonde smiled. “Tobias… Quite a simple name for someone with such an eccentric hairstyle.” The boy lifted the ginger cat and pet it, letting the animal rest around his shoulders. “I’m Tommy. Short for Te’oma. This is the local stray.”He explained frowning when he heard a chuckle from the other, shorter boy.

Tubbo found the name funny. A weird name for a weird kid he figured. “Hey… Would you happen to know anything about a well around here?” He hoped to find the well and maybe find some bugs.

There was a short pause. “Yeah. I just saved you from falling in. What do you think I was doing?”Tommy questioned going over and swiping away the mud from the spot where Tubbo was standing, revealing the opening of the well. “See. Would’ve cracked under your weight…. One kid fell and they never found his body y'know.”It was a matter of fact tone. As if it should’ve been common knowledge to the kid who just moved here.

Both heads jerked looking to the source of a loud bell.”Te’oma! Te’oma!”An elderly woman shouted and Tommy sighed going to his dirt bike. “Alright… Well… Stay safe in that house, Tobias…” Tommy looked over as Tubbo lifted his “dowsing rod” and smiled. “Wear gloves… That may or may not be Poison Oak!”The boy quickly hopped on and chuckled as a stick hit the back of his head as he drove down the hill to his home.

---

Tubbo had gone home and slept soundly that night. He was excited to go through and organize the house plants and seeds they had. He went to work as soon as he could and began going through the box of seeds and looking around the house setting the seed packets where each plant would go. His father and uncle were working as he began moving the small plants he could.

Soon though he came to one he couldn’t move. “Dad! Can you help me!? I’m trying to move the Peace Lily!”The green-headed kid shouted, still trying to hoist the plan up despite knowing he was too weak to carry it on his own.

Jordan sighed. “Tubbo, I can’t! Ask Uncle Eret!”The boy’s father shouted back as he kept working. Tubbo sighed and skipped to his uncle’s office.

“Eret….? Could you help me move some of the plants? I planned where all of them could go…” Tubbo was quiet as he gently scratched his palms looking at his surrogate parent as he waited for a response.

Eret sighed and glanced back. “I can’t… I need to finish up the catalog… But… Some kid left this for you. Maybe you can look around and count the doors or something…. Just give your dad and me some peace alright. I promise the second we can the house will be flourishing.” Tubbo sighed and hugged his uncle briefly before skipping to the kitchen with the package.

When he had a sandwich and a notebook he sat and counted the doors and windows before he started eating. While he was eating he unwrapped the gift and squinted. The doll looked just like him. Even the buttons on the eyes were brown. He sighed and finished eating.

Despite the size of the place it didn’t take long to count everything. So when Tubbo made it to the final room he huffed seeing there wasn’t anything left to do. He walked around holding the doll by his arms peaking in the boxes of decorations. He pulled a box of snowglobes to the fireplace wanting to start decorating. He paused when he saw a tiny door wallpapered over. He hummed and left the room.

Tubbo was in the dining room. “Dad.. where are the keys that the house came with?” He questioned not wanting to interrupt his father’s writing too much. He rested against the door frame as his father looked up and pointed to a drawer of an old buffet table beside the dining table.

Tubbo kissed his cheek when he found an old looking key that didn’t match the doors he had counted. Skipping back to the living room he sat and hummed pulling out a pocket knife from his jeans pocket, cutting away the wallpaper and carving a tiny hole for the key and sticking it in. He set the knife aside and turned the lock and held his breath.”Ready little me?”He softly asked.

Once he made the doll give a tiny nod he smiled to himself and opened it. Tubbo frowned when there was nothing behind the door. Just bricks. He closed the door and figured he wouldn’t bother locking it. The key looked cool so he kept it with him and began organizing the globes on the mantelpiece.

Dinner wasn’t quite so peachy either. It was made by Eret so it wasn’t as good as Tubbo’s father. With a disappearing appetite, he went off to bed early carrying the doll to bed and curling up under the sheets. “Goodnight little me…” Tubbo muttered as he began to drift off to sleep

Tags! @petrichormeraki @prismartist

{The Pink Palace}{Other Father} {Strange Neighbors} {The Gloves}{That Was Fantastic!}{Horns}{Alone}{Trapped}{A Game}{So Close}{Home}

[kazeofthemagun]

thextremus​:

There was a trespasser on her premises. But not the kind she had usually came to expect.

This stranger was different from the rest–dare she even think unique. He had caught her attention alone by the way he unexpectedly entered her sanctum. Not by grappling hooks or flying machines, but by a kind of magic unfamiliar to her. The young man carried a strange, powerful aura about him very unlike of this world. She could sense no heartbeat within. And her eyes narrowed into golden slits at the weapon by his side. He was certainly no SeeD or survivor of her onslaughts, the kind of intruders that came to her door.

But he was all the same yet another intruder. Just a lot more curious. And all the same another locust she would have to exterminate…

There was no doubt in her mind that he knew she was watching his every move. Her form steadily breezed through the corridors as shadows from afar. He might’ve been able to catch glimpse of her silhouette in certain lighting of the moon beams, but not for long before she’d disappear again, leaving only a few black feathers falling in her wake. She could tell from his minute movements that he was searching for something. And that made her all more curious what brought him to this place.

But Ultimecia could only keep up this game of hide and seek for so long. And she had little patience for letting uninvited guests browse at their whim. She could’ve just as well sic her pets on him–she hated having to deal with the guests herself–but her curiosity begged further investigation.

If he stopped and listened closely, he might’ve been able to hear the faint flutter of wings behind him as the sorceress appeared at a distance.

She glared into his back coldly. A free hand had leisurely clawed the air. “You aren’t my usual kind of guest…” She commented at last.

“And you aren’t my usual kind of mage.” He riposted, appearing completely unfazed by the reveal.

A most accurate observation, as it would soon turn out.

He made no effort to try and face her - not when he couldn’t yet trust sudden movement not to incite aggression - but he employed senses other than sight to size up the dark sorceress behind him.

His nose twitched at the familiar scent of black magic; albeit beyond that, he could not tell much. The woman was a witch, that he understood, but the very nature of her power remained unclear - although somehow, deeply disturbing.

Still, her energy signature did not match those of Chaos or any of its lieutenants - but if that were really to be the case, then why was he summoned here..?

His ears registered the sound of ruffling feathers and his gaze instinctively shifted to the side, testing just how much visual cues he could pick up.

Cyan eyes narrowed as a lone black speck drifted out of sight as quickly as it had appeared.

“I see... You have got yourself quite the castle here.” He chatted, perfectly still save for the slow, almost unnoticeable movement of his left hand. He slipped Orthrus, his shotgun, between his right arm and chest, careful not to bulge the fabric of his cloak with the muzzle. His mark - the witch, should she prove of ill intent.

He winced ever so slightly when the red metal scraped his bruised ribs.

He could feel the Eye of Magun looking lazily in the other’s direction, the entity within shifting, almost as if the shadowy sorceress had caught its attention. But then, wouldn’t that mean she was Chaotic of origin..?

This, he knew very well - rarely ever did the Gun Dragon express an interest in anyone other than Chaos or its spawn.

She must have either been concealing her true nature masterfully, or was simply a being of stupendous power, indeed.

Which one would it be - he wondered. The cards they were dealt were yet to be revealed.

Kaze’s voice boomed across the room with all the force of a thunderclap.

“Well, then. Who summons me?”