#also yeah I am trying very hard to be neutral an constructive an not complain about current European politics

[visit-ba-sing-se]

Hello I do not know how to say this in a way that would do numbers on tumblr.com but if you are a citizen of an EU country this your reminder to vote in June. Elections for the EU-Parliament take place from the 6th to 9th of June depending on where you live, you can find more details on when and how to vote here.

I know that the EU can seem like this far away thing that you can have many complicated feelings about. But at this point so many key decisons are made at the European level, where the Parliament really can make or break a law. And I am talking about big topics like climate change and global politics but also everyday situations like buying stuff online or getting a refund for your delayed flight.

So even if it might not always be visible, who makes those decisions in the EU-Parliament does affect you now and will continue to do so in the future. Use your vote to determine in which way.

[quant-um-fizzx]

Swept Away

Synopsis: Bucky feels strangely drawn to a woman at a Halloween party thrown at the Avengers compound. 

Bucky Barnes x Reader. Except - not? There’s really no way to explain this upfront without giving the whole thing away. It is a nameless female character but it’s also not “fictional you” as a reader because I could not get that to work within this mystery concept. 

Warnings:  Smut, I’m calling this Dub-Con (but only in the sense that things might not be what they seem) Language, mild Angst, an attempt to be eerie. 

Word Count:  about 3000

This is for @sherrybaby14‘s Fall Into You writing challenge from the prompt: “Halloween Party”  

It’s loud like parties always are and Bucky welcomes a reason not to join in their bickering, no matter how playful. 

“It’s the principle, really.” Steve says, sniffs whatever Thor tipped into his glass this time. 

“Yes, that’s my point. Thank you. Don’t make a rule and then break it.” Rhodey gripes, adjusting the gold construction paper shooting star taped to the center of his shirt.

“I believe the rule as stated was ‘don’t spend more than $10 on a superhero costume.’ I spent zero dollars on this ensemble.” Tony gestures at the Mark 5 armor he’s wearing. “What we need is a neutral party analysis, who will then concur I am winning at not spending.”

Clint twirls an empty beer bottle between his fingers. “Look, I’m not saying that it’s cheating to come as yourself...”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Nat says.

“I sense a butt right here,” Rocket chimes in. He’s dressed no differently, having openly complained he didn’t see the point and costumes sound more like some of the stupid shit Quill would be into. 

Steve flicks the deep red bed sheet pinned to the back of his shirt, making it swoosh around his feet, casually flipping what no one needs to know is Thor’s actual hammer. The group chatters on as he surveys the room, pausing when he spies Bucky in a far corner, his arm slipping artfully around the waist of a very pretty woman in a white post-Edwardian nightdress. She seems familiar but he can’t really get a good look at her and, considering Bucky’s clearly enthralled with her, he doesn’t think he should be trying to get a better look. They appear deep in conversation, the woman’s hair falling across her face like a curtain. It’s intimate, the way they lean in, and suddenly Steve feels like he’s intruding. He coughs and returns his attention back to the current debate. 

***

She curls further into his side, burrows her chilled shoulder down where he’s warm and snug. Her head falls back to look up at him with doe-eyes. He gets lost in them, irises so peaceful and deep, dark like still waters, like starless night sky. She runs her hand over the blue near-ancient canvas stretched across his chest, traces the white star with an elegant digit.

He leans in, almost captures her lips.  Forgets it’s not private. Like there’s no one else. Like there shouldn’t ever be. She offers her neck, bends so far back that it’s a bit unnatural, but he brushes the thought away. He shakes his head, tries to recall something. It seems important. Scratching at his brain. 

He stops, pulls back. His eyes pinch. He doesn’t know this woman. Doesn’t know anything about her. But he wants to. He wants to know her. Maybe that’s what he couldn’t remember. “What’s…” Runs his nose along her cheek. “What’s your name, Darlin’?”

Did she already tell him that? Did he already ask?

***

“Tell me again, how is coming as yourself and wearing your actual multi-million dollar suit not breaking the rules?” Nat saunters across the circle, grabbing a drink off the bar.

“I’m just saying, that since you were the guy who made the rule, it’s kinda weird that you’re the one breaking it.” Clint sets his bottle down with a clink that sounds a bit more irritated than he appears. 

“Point of order: Cap lent his costume to two people.” Tony feigns deep offense, gestures toward Scott.

“What? This? Nah, I hand-sewed this baby myself for Comic-Con years ago.” Scott stands proudly, hands heroically on his hips. 

Tony’s eyes roll back into his brain. “That still leaves Barnes and his circa WW2 Star-Spangled-ness? Care to explain the museum piece over there and the clothes he’s wearing while you’re at it?”

***

She smiles softly, delicate. Her features unbothered despite that it seems he’s forgotten her. Goes up on her toes and places cool fingertips on his fevered lips. Pushes her own together in a silent hush and he feels it in his gut - feels himself give in to something more than gravity pulling him down, twisting. He leans in toward those lotus-petal painted lips, almost...almost. 

She pulls back just a little. Smile shy, but somehow not. A little knowing. Knows a secret she’s going to show him. He doesn’t like secrets; he’s kept too many, he’s been too many. Doesn’t trust them. 

But he wants to know hers. Wants her. Needs to see where this leads. 

Her fingers entwine with his, pull him fluidly toward the exit door. 

And he forgets. Forgets they are leaving a brightly lit room, forgets there are people who might miss him, forgets everyone, everything but the promise of losing himself in her. 

***

Steve shrugs. “Bucky asked how much trouble it would be to borrow it. Turns out it wasn’t much trouble,” he says, pulling his eyes away from the door Bucky had disappeared through. 

“Excellent!” Tony claps. “Now that we can all agree the utilization of old suits is not a budget factor, let’s discuss what I am sure is a fascinating reason why Wilson here jumped on the opportunity to dress as a defunct Russian asset.”

Sam scoffs and pretends to smooth the aluminum foil wrapped around his left arm. “The Winter Soldier? Nah, my arm’s just dressed as a baked potato.” 

***

Her fingers swim up under his shirt and along each rib like organ keys. He’s draped over her, touching every inch, body covering her like a blanket, a pall. Their kisses swell and he dives when her mouth parts for him. At first a shallow exploration, his warm pink tongue skimming inside until she, impatient and sudden, curls into his mouth and catches it. 

The party and the lights feel a million leagues away. The sounds muffled and distant as if they’ve sneaked off to skinnydip not go necking in a backseat.

Lips and teeth banging, urgent. She’s under and around him all at once. Calling him to claim her like the open sea. 

Hot breath rushes from him as he pulls away and she floats up to follow but then settles back flat along the seat, smiling up at him. Hair splayed out around her face in waves and her face glowing like the moon. 

It registers with him that they’re in a parking lot, in the back of a car. It seems like new information, as if he had just realized. Must have been too busy kissing her, touching her because he doesn't know how they got here. Doesn’t remember clambering into the car. It’s large and old. A Studebaker? A Streamliner?

No, that can’t be right. 

***

“Hey, Mr. Stark. Cool Costume. Ned dressed as Mark 5 in 3rd grade.” Peter scurries up, acting slightly winded, as most of the crowd shoots daggers at him. “It, uh, it looks way better on you though.” He looks hopefully around, checking if that fixed whatever he’d said wrong. 

Shuddering, as if he’s just recalled what he’d come to say, Peter looks back quickly over his shoulder at the doorway Bucky and the woman walked out. “That’s all kinds of creepy. Just like that urban legend, right?”

“When it comes to questionable bed partners, I am spectacularly aware that I have no room to talk. But what is the deal with Steve’s pal and Coraline?” Tony gestures over his shoulder. “There’s a line between cute and creepy. But that one just runs a bit too realistic as The Woman in White.”

Steve looks between them and the door again. “The what?”

***

He presses his lips to her neck. Runs his tongue up a long trail to the shell of her ear.

Soft. He’s never felt anything so soft in his hands. Breasts like silt, spilling under his palms.  Soft every place he’s hard. He’s so hard, aching with it. Cock straining, reducing him down to that near-pain desire. He wants to bury himself between her thighs, drown himself inside her.

She pulls the gown free from her shoulders and it pools around her. She arches up to him. Offers. Urges. 

Insists. 

He licks his lips and wants more. Already can’t remember what she tastes like, saltwater or sweetened honey? He kisses her again, soft press against his tongue and he’s thirsty. Parched. Dives in for more but each touch leaves him wanting more. More heat. More water. More...air.

She’s under him and begging him. 

“Take me.”

Rouge tongue runs over chapped lips as he comes up for a breath. “You don’t have to ask me twice, Sugar.” He rasps, lungs seized up in want. 

Her hands dig into blue shoulders and her legs wrap around red and white stripes, clasping behind the small of his back. Pulling him down to her, pulling him under. 

Fog coats the windows. Their want dripping in rivulets down the glass. The air is thick with it, clings to his lungs, each breath heavy, laboring. 

“Hang on babe,” he pulls back, heart racing gulping down air. “Whew. Huh. Wow.” He looks around, squints, trying to get his bearings. “Gimme a sec, okay?”

She smiles again, sweet as rain. Shakes her head slowly, hair swirling around, a tangle of moss on the seat. Locks her hands behind his neck and digs her heels into his thighs.

She reaches down inside his pants and draws him out, a whisper caress on his length. Barely there, but possessive. Hers.

“Take me.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he gasps, breathless. Gasps as strokes him. “I’ll make it good, so good for you.” 

He wants her. Wants her like air. “Can’t wait. Gotta have you - now.”

She flips him over, deft like he weighs nothing and he floats beneath her. Straddles his hips and anchors him, grinding onto his cock. Her head falls back again, does that deep swoon to expose the marble column of her neck. And he feels again like he needs to stop her, to catch her head and stop her. To cradle her skull.

***

“I can tell you, Cap,” Sam says, leaning in conspiratorially, “but you and I are going to have a long chat later about how you manage to interact with other humans every day and still stay so damned isolated.”

Steve gives Sam a withering look but motions for him to continue. 

“The story goes, there’s a ghost that wanders the area. She fell for a guy years ago and got abandoned. The story changes in the details. Sometimes she died in childbirth, jumped off a bridge, whatever.  But one detail is always the same: heartbreaker was shipping off to war the next day. So, she, you know, ‘did it for her country.’ But the guy never comes back and she dies, waiting for him. Wandering the road leading to where they were last together.”

“Huh, that’s super weird,” Scott says, throwing back what he immediately learns is heavily-spiked cider, his eyes going wide on the burn. 

“Ghost stories are weird by definition, Scott” Nat says, licking the rim of her glass. 

“No,” Scott coughs, throwing back two more cider shots in quick succession. “I mean it’s weird because I picked her up on the road coming here. She asked all slow and dramatic about her soldier - I guess she is just super into Halloween - and I was gonna call her an Uber but then she said she was looking for Stark’s thing.”

Steve is incredibly done with this entire conversation. Peter, the exact opposite, presses for more info. “Which road?”

Sam shrugs dismissively. “The one by the old fairgrounds.”

Scott chokes on a fourth shot.  “Down in Queens.”

“You mean the fairgrounds where Stark held the first Expo?” Steve say, unblinking. All fun gone. 

Suddenly, Steve knows where he’s seen her. It’s just been a very, very long time since 1943.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Tony says, eyes locked on Steve. 

“Are you saying that I picked up a...a... ghost and rode with her for an hour? Guys...guys, I need to sit down.” Scott wobbles, hand shooting out to steady himself on Rocket. Rocket steps aside. 

Before Scott’s ass hits the floor, everyone else is out the door. 

***

She sinks down around him, fluid and silk. Her hands press into his chest. His warm muscles tense and brown nipples pebble in her touch’s wake. 

As she rides him, the night’s light behind her makes her hair look like a halo floating out around her. A thought breaks through that she looks familiar - he does know her - but she’s just one more thing he lost along the way. 

He wants to tell her they can make this new, start over, whatever went wrong before, he can fix it and it wasn’t his fault and didn’t mean to leave her and please forgive him because he didn’t mean to toss her away.

Wait.

Wait...

He recalls a flash of her face, dry and bright. She’s looking up at him in his brown uniform. Red car hovering on a stage behind her. Then, as suddenly as it came, the picture’s gone, popped like a burst bubble.

***

Steve and Sam are first out the back, toward the dock. Peter has a legit meltdown but still manages to check every car. They’re all empty.

“Cap! There!” Clint shouts, pointing out at the water. 

The middle of the goddamn lake.

In the goddamn, deathly still, dark lake.

***

She glides over him and it’s so desperate and slippery. Everything urgent when all he’d really wanted is to take his time. To do this right. Bring her some daisies  - or, no, she'd like lilies he thinks dumbly and runs his hands up to cup her face. He wants to show her a good time before his ships out in the morning and see if she has a different friend for Steve. 

The guilt is raw and burrowing in his heart he can’t shake it but he doesn’t quite know why. 

Maybe that’s her secret. What she wanted to show him. 

Maybe it’s that she deserves better than this back seat in a parked car outside Stark’s expo. He starts to say sorry but is silenced with another watery kiss.

Burning starts low in his back, the building pull low in his spine, and he wants to come. Desperate for his end. 

 Maybe it’s too much because she can have it all she can have him and he’s not scared - but a small spark fires some forgotten place in his mind, that he is scared - that maybe he should be.

Sliding over him, bend and rock. Tight. He surges up into her again and again. His release looms, vision tunneled down to her. Nothing but her and the sweet hold, the way she’s anchored him down after so many years adrift. 

He thinks blindly that he should warn her. Opens his mouth but she swallows his words. 

Then he’s coming, pulsing out of him like lifeblood. Breathless and drained. And he’s so tired. 

Peaceful. Serene. 

“Take me,” she sings.

He can’t hold on. Body aches for rest. 

Her brow furrows. “Take me home.”  

His eyes flutter. He starts to form the words, but just...can’t. 

He would’ve taken her home and not left. He didn’t mean to make it seem like it must have seemed. He didn’t just throw her away. But it was war and he wasn’t expecting the hell it brought or the hell that came after. It had all seemed so innocent in that old back seat, with his promises he didn’t mean to break.

She grinds down, damned serum refractory period kicking in. He swells against all reason and moves with her until she shakes and clenches, nails digging into his skin, a mournful wail spiraling out of her as he feels himself spill again. 

She touches his neck, feels his pulse stutter out, slow.  Her face is confused. Head shaking. 

He takes her hand, holds it to his heart. An apology. 

Then, she rails back, wretches and twists. She slips through his fingers like time, like silk, like thread.  

What was once solid, warm like new sun on a cold sill, now shifts. Contorts and writhes, skin viscus and pooling around his fingers like so much rancid dough. 

He wants to care but he wants to sleep. Just rest his eyes. Just for a second. It doesn’t feel right but he can’t make himself care. It’s so quiet and peaceful, down here where she used to be solid, where he used to be warm.

***

Then, when he’s almost gone, when peace has fired off in nearly every cell, he’s yanked free. 

Colder than he’s ever been. Night air like a fire burning, like he is nothing but frostbite dropped in a boiling pot.

Sam drags him up onto the dock and collapses beside him. Sam’s face is drawn and terrified and their clothes soggy and weighted, water running off between the wooden planks.

“The Hell Barnes? Party full of perfectly available, alive folk and that’s the strange you go for.”

[bloodyangel-666]

Valerius x f! Apprentice

Hey,this is a first draft for Valerius from the Arcana game. In this,the Mc,who I named Zoe, was overstressed and a little company from Valerius will brighter her mood. This is pure fluff,Valerius being a sweet and soft cinnamon roll. ^^

Anyways,sorry for the grammar mistakes. My English is not very good and I will try my best in the future. If you spot any of them please don't hesitate to tell me so I can fix that.

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

Another long day, filled with business at the palace. Consul Valerius was always busy. He had papers to sign,wine to drink,forced to participate at some boring administrative meetings, testing new brands of wine,trying so hard not to insult the servants,oh did I mentioned drinking wine? Anyway,he was busy. But in this evening things will change,because the oh so hated consul was going out for a walk in the garden. For anyone at the palace,that was something new. They also thinking he was either drunk or angry,because other way why should be walking in the garden in the dim light of the sunset? To tell you why,the Consul was concerned. He was thinking about the palace,Nadia and the people,about Vesuvia and the life itself, perhaps about everything at once.  You see,the bitter consul who was always annoyed by others,was in fact very careful with the world around him,understanding the cruelty of it. In fact,he was lost within his mind. Trying to find his place in a world so cold was hard,and even his soul became like ice,unable to summon sympathy for other people. But the walks in the garden weren't uncommon for him. Sometimes,he will sneak out of his room at night,with a bottle or two or four of wine in the garden,to breath the clean air and to clear his mind,alone,when no one was around to see him. And it was fine, really. But sometimes the lonely gets the best of him,and he starts drinking more than his limit,and start drowning himself in his own mind. However,in this evening something definitely will change.

Zoe,the magician,Asta apprentice,who was supposed to find Dr. Julian,or the true murderer of the Count,decided to have a walk in the garden too. Tired of the day that went by,she stripped herself of the elegant shoes that Nadia ordered her to wear,and sighed, relieved to be alone. She started to walk around, admiring the beauty of the nature and starting to look at it,as it really was. She hoped this will help with her stress,but life's not so easy. She stated to overthink things,as she always do,and losses herself and her attention, bumped right into someone. This snapped her back to reality,and too ashamed to look at the person,her black eyes were fixed on the ground,words of sorry and endless apologises escaping her mouth so fast that most of them were barely audible. But there were stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder and two words.

"Stop that." This voice was familiar. A little too familiar. The bitterness in the tone reminding her of someone, however this time the voice has something almost sweet and caring in it. Almost.

To satisfy her curiosity,she looked up and saw Valerius. He wears that frown and neutral expression as always,but this time,his eyes were amused.

"Stop apologising or I will have another headache." Oh so familiar sarcasm. And the smile. "In fact,I think you were just lost in thoughts,am I right?". And the grin. The "I know everything" grin.

"Uh,yeah...something like that." She shouldn't be so vulnerable,but she was still embrassed by her own mistake. "Sorry again,consul."

She sighed,too tired to care if she's making a fool of herself again. But Valerius expression softened instantly,and before he can stop,the words fall from his mouth.

"Would you like to talk about what's bothering you?"

The question seemed to surprise the both of them,and he immediately turned his head away,panick started to form in his mind. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Zoe,taken by surprise by his kind words,was just staring at him,mouth agape.

"I,uh,excuse me? I think I misunderstood you. Can you reaped the question?"

Now they were both confused. But for Valerius was already too late. He cannot back down from this. Well,he guessed he wouldn't be alone anymore by now.

"Do you want to talk about what's bothering you? You seem a little off..."

The soft laugh that escaped her lips was enough to embrassed the consul,and his insecurities started to form.

"Why consul? To gossip with the other courtiers about this later?"

The words were supposed to be a joke,and not to sound like that. The attitude of the consul changed instantly into something more dark and perhaps a little sad too?

"So this is what you think of me? Well,it's not a surprise, after all, everyone seem to think the same."

Surely a little sad. Now Zoe was regretting every word and the guilt stated to form in her guts.

"Valeri- Consul. I'm truly sorry. It was supposed to be a joke. Really." A little hum stopped her to continue for a moment,but she did it anyway. "And thank you. For trying to help. But you seem a little off to. Maybe you should speak about what's bothering you first."

Now was his time to look totally surprised by that. Eyes wide open staring at her,and for a moment,he looked exactly like a lost puppy. But then his composure was back.

"I'm fine. I wasn't the one to bump into someone." Even if the remark was supposed to sound like a bitter one, somehow it turned out soft and concerned, which surprised again the both of them. "So...are you going to talk about it?"

Zoe wanted to tell no,to scream or to run. But she didn't. She just sat there,eyes watering a little. She was overwhelmed with the stress. And even she shouldn't be complaining about it, she did in her mind, cursed the murderer,the Countess,herself and everyone else for expecting so much from her. She started a sentence,and then ended it with a little sob. This snapped Valerius out of his own track of thoughts and immediately pulled her in his arm. Well,if Zoe wasn't enough surprised by his actions by now,in this moment she truly was. She stopped crying just to look at him,and a small nod and a genius kind smile encouraged her to continue and to say what was so heavy for her heart. And she did, telling him everything. The embrace was ended soon after she started,but Valerius eyes never leaved her,the concern and interest showing in them. By the time she was done,both of them sat in a well welcomed silence,listening to the sound of water from the fountain,the breeze and the animals. When Valerius spoke again,the tone was soft,almost a whisper.

"It's normal to feel like that. You are in a new situation for you,alone,no one asking you if you are okay with this. And you are pretty young too, considered by others as a child-"

"I'm not a child,consul!"

Now this was supposed to be interesting.

"Oh? And then what are you?" A little playful smile developing at the corner of his lips,eyes shining with interested.

"A witch! A magician of Vesuvia." She said proudly, smiling too a little.

"Oh? So what a magician can do,dear Zoe?~" Now the grin was back,but was a kind and playful one,turning all of this in a game where both of them can win.

She did not move but closed her eyes,waiting. A little breeze surrounding them,and then a pale of wind blowing some leaves in the consul hair, ruining a bit of it. At first,Zoe started to laught when she opened her eyes. The sign in front and her was just too precious. But then she realised this was Valerius,and she wanted to apologize. But he stopped her mid track,starting to laugh himself of the situation.

"Oh my! You got me,magician." This was all it takes for both of them to snap into a loud and happy laugh, forgetting about the problems they had in that moment.

"I didn't know you are capable of this acts of caring, consul~" Her turn to tease him.

"Tell anyone about it and you will be dead." He said sternly,but then smiled. So he can have a soft heart too.

"Thank you, consul. It did really helped."

"Call me Valerius from now on,ok?"

With that,they sat in a relaxing silence, enjoy the nature and the company of each other, realising a little bit of company wasn't bad for any of them.

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

So this was it. I hope you enjoyed and please tell me what you think about it. I will happy take constructive criticism and improve my stories in the future.

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Fight Fight Fight, Talk Things Out?

Danny gives a firm talking to to his best buds, has a fight with an old lady, and then a talk with said old lady.

A cow float, a stage, a ‘meat on a stick’ stand, kids in steak and hot dog costumes, a guy with a grill that couldn’t possibly be legal to just put on school property, and a sign that read “United we eat meat.”  These were the first things Danny saw when he got to school. Then he looked over at the other side of the schoolyard. A replica of the Mystery Machine, the biggest fake sunflower he’d ever seen in his life, and yet another stage were set up with people that Danny could only identify as hippies surrounding that stage with picket signs with “It’s easy being green,” and “Tofu for you” written on them. 

“Literally, how?”  Danny groaned as his friends both approached him, looking furiously determined and holding megaphones.  He could feel the cold burn of his eyes flashing brilliant green once they were both in front of him. “ No.  I don’t give two shits about the pettiness of your arguments right now.   No .”  His voice echoed and the teen watched his friends stop in shock.  “I have had frankly enough of this argument. Here’s how it is. Sam, we need vegetables, yeah, we need healthier food than the school was giving us.  Strong-arming them into switching everyone onto your diet, however, is the wrong way to go about it.  What about other people’s dietary needs? What about people who need as much protein out of the lunch they get here as possible?”  Sam had no answer for that.

“You coulda just gotten a list from everyone on what they thought should go on the menu, compile it with what was most common, and then have them change the menu to the healthiest versions of that so that everyone’s needs are met.”  Danny huffed. “Respect other people’s needs and wants before just deciding what you think is best for them Sam. Isn’t that what you hate having done to you?” Sam looked struck, then guilty, and sighed, nodding.

“Yeah, ok, I guess I went overboard.”

“And you .”  Danny whirled around and pointed his finger in Tucker’s face.  “This is going to ridiculous extremes. How did you even do this?  Don’t answer that, I don’t wanna know. This is only a week long change, you know that.  Parents would’ve complained to the school about their kids being forced into someone else’s diets and the school would never do this again.  More importantly!”

Shiver, mist.  The sky darkened, the wind whipped up, and Danny swore he could hear cackling from everywhere.  He looked over at the truck that Tucker had brought in and grabbed his best friend’s shoulder. “I’m going to punch you later for bringing a stars damned meat truck when we’re fighting a ghost who’s focusing in on meat .”

“That was my b,” Tucker admitted meekly.  As the meat ripped out of the truck and flew through the air, Tucker and Sam slipped their wrist rays on and Danny ran to and slid under Tucker’s stage.  The sound of something huge hitting the ground shook it, and Danny reached inside of himself. That humming ball of cold and void and out of reach stars, he plunged into it, and light washed over his body.  The world changed, colors turning vivid and bright, strange colors he had no names for other than non-visible light raced into his eyes. The shadows were no longer black but silvery grey, the vast emptiness between molten starmetal and the blazing suns.  Sounds and smells and feelings hit him that were all too alien to process. He reeled, nearly dropping the form. But he had something to do, he had a job to do.

Danny phased into the ground and popped up in front of the meat monster.  It towered over him, so large Danny could barely see anything else. A check of his wrist showed that his ray was now pretty much melded into his hazmat.  “Weird, question later, ass kick now.” Tuck and Sam were firing off rays while everyone else ran, and Danny charged forward. He lashed out with his foot to the… head, he supposed, of the meat, and it staggered backward away from the student body.  She swung at him with a hand that moved faster than he’d anticipated, and Danny went flying. The world faded into unreality and he passed through what he vaguely knew were trees and the ground before stopping and righting himself. He flew under the ground, legs merging into a tail - also to freak out over later - and he zoomed. He emerged right under her and missed his uppercut as she stumbled backward from the rays that Sam and Tucker fired.  Another fist grabbed him and Danny was slammed into the ground.

After a failed kick to the hand, Danny concentrated on his wrist ray and lined up the trigger that was sitting comfortably under his glove.  Pull and - Agatha screamed from within her monster host, and Danny flew free. His ray was clearly bigger than the others, but he also felt drained.  “Reserve for bigger fights.”

Danny weaved around her next few blows, kicking and punching the construct of processed meat backward away from the fleeing students and his friends.  Flying in circles to orbit the monster, Danny picked up speed and slammed his foot into the head of the meat pile and it toppled to the ground.

Danny took a moment to breathe, glad to find he could if he didn’t think too hard about it.  A fist came into view and Danny went soaring up and up and up. He saw a plane fast approaching and moved into that safe spot between the world and everything else.  He passed through the plane like it was a thin cloud of smoke before managing to stop. Then he dove, turning solid again when Agatha was in sight from within her meat construction.  “Not a lot of mass but anything with this kind of velocity should do the job.”

BOOM

With how deep in the ground Danny ended up it was a wonder he hadn’t splattered.  Picking himself up, the teen rolled his shoulder until it ached a bit less and saw Agatha there, staring at him.  “Oh dearie, are you ok?”

“Surprisingly.”  Danny rolled his neck. When he focused in on Agatha - he really could just see everything couldn’t he? - her face was warped and stretched larger than the rest of her.

“Tough!  You being ok isn’t part of my balanced breakfast of death!”

Smaller chunks of meat came together into constructs about three-quarters of Danny’s size, five of them in total, and they grinned at him.  This was when Sam and Tucker caught up with everything, apparently. Danny spun, heel tearing through the creatures like a knife, and landed to see Agatha being pushed back by Sam and Tuck’s wrist rays.  “Fuck yeah!”

Danny’s celebration was cut short by his grasp on that deathly cold void slipping in the excitement, light washing over him with the warmth of being alive again.  “This is inconvenient.” The meat monsters grabbed onto Danny’s limbs, reminding him that they were mere extensions of Agatha’s will. “This is even less convenient, how about no?”

As Danny was dragged through the air, something smacked him in the face.  Catching it before it could fall out of reach, Danny felt a minor bloom of relief.  “The Thermos! Maybe I can get it to work!” Seeing his family below, Danny hoped to all the stars in the sky that he was just going for a ride.

The ride stopped.  Danny was dropped. A scream flew from his lungs, and Danny reached deeper, desperately grasping, to pull himself into the chill of the grave.  The abyss met his call at the same time that his family looked up at the blur fast approaching. “Thanks for the thermos!” He shouted as he dove into the ground.  Not waiting to see how that was handled he resurfaced to find Sam and Tucker bound in mounds of meat. “Work. Please work.” Danny aimed the thermos, poured his own cold into the thing, and hit the button.  A flash of blue light, a scream of defiance, and he capped the thermos. Gravity and heat washed over him again and Danny let out a sigh of relief, running over to pull Sam and Tucker out of the meat piles. “You guys ok?”

“I have meat and blood everywhere and I was nearly crushed to death.”  Sam shuddered, even as Danny phased everything off of her.  “I am the very definition of not ok.”

“My nightmares are scarred for life after that,” Tucker said.  “That was freaky. What do we do with her?”

Before Danny could answer that he heard footsteps and turned the thermos invisible.  As he thought, his parents thundered toward him with the Ghost Finder in hand. “Just missed em, guys.”  Danny pointed behind him and was relieved when his mom and dad jogged off after a nonexistent ectosignature.  “Well, that was a shitty start to the day. We should go inside before someone makes something out of the crater here.”  Danny, Tucker, and Sam all headed off to the nearest entrance to the school, thoughts going south. “What if the security cameras caught all that?”

“Oh, no, that you don’t have to worry about,” Tucker said.  “I’m all over that in like, a couple hours tops.”

“Good.”  Danny waited until they’d gotten to their lockers, and stuffed the thermos into his bag before punching Tucker in the arm.  “ That is for bringing a stars damned meat truck when there was a food obsessed ghost flying around!”

“Alright, yeah, that was stupid of me.”  Tucker nodded. “I shouldn’t have done that.  But uh, we all agreed not to do stuff that affects literally everyone without consulting each other?”  Tucker and Danny both looked to Sam, who glared at them heatlessly.

The goth sighed and leaned heavily on Danny.  “Alright, fine, ask people what they want first.  Lesson learned. Can we talk about what we’re gonna do with Agatha though?”

“Well, I don’t think she’s a mindless monster or anything,” Danny started slowly as they walked toward their homeroom.   “I think we can reason with her. Show her that change can be a good thing when it’s done right.”

“Alright, we can do that once we’re sure she’s not gonna try and kill us though, right?  Tucker tried to go for a neutral, slightly teasing tone but Danny could hear - could feel a shakiness to him.  “ We are meat if you didn’t notice Danny, and I don’t know if her control over food extends to a cannibal’s diet.  I don’t wanna find out.”

“I’m horrified and grossed out,” Sam groaned.  “I’m all for not getting cannibalized. That’s the wrong kind of macabre for me.”

Danny shook his head, made some crack about how bad either of them might taste, and promised to let Agatha cool down before releasing her.  

 That cooldown time happened to be the amount of time it took for the veggie week thing to run its course and be done with.  The school was cleaned, though all the vegan students who’d showed up for the rally were questioned about any kind of explosives they may have tried to sabotage the meat truck with and the news settled in on a gas line story.  Saturday arrived, and the trio all met up in the park. Away from all the dog walkers, readers and normal people having fun outside, Danny Tucker and Sam stood in a small clearing of trees, a few chipmunks shifting around above their heads and in the bushes.

“Tuck, you got the reports?”

“Roger.  Sam, got your wrist ray ready?”

“Of course.  Danny, remind me to tell your parents they’re awesome for making most of their stuff solar powered.”

“They hadn’t figured out how to tap the afterlife for energy yet, it’s the most efficient thing we got.”  Danny shrugged. He pulled out the thermos, which hummed beneath his fingers with the contained energy of Agatha inside.  Sam and Tucker couldn't feel it, so he chalked that up to another ghost thing. “Alright, Agatha, if you’re ready to talk to us, I’m gonna let you out now.”  The thermos offered no response. Danny opened it anyway.

The bark on the trees darkened, the leaves turning grey and the branches and bushes rustling as birds and squirrels left in a hurry.  The air turned colder and sharper, and the sunlight dimmed as green spilled out of the thermos and stained the air. Agatha took shape quickly, though her glow was dimmer than it had been before.  Her eyes raked across all three of them and narrowed. “Well, children? You kept rambling on and on about talking whenever I tried to get out. What’s so important that you didn’t put me back in the astral plane?”

Tucking the name of the other side in the back of his mind, Danny offered his best-placating smile.  It disarmed most teachers back when he wasn’t having as many problems, he was hoping it’d work here too.  “Agatha, hi. I’m Danny, this is Tucker and Sam. I feel like we got off on the worst foot before, what with you trying to kill us and all.”  Tucker elbowed him in the ribs and Danny shoved him back. The buzzing in the air grew louder, his skin tingled, and some small part of his brain kept screaming to shoot, to run, to do anything that could get this thing that did not belong away from him.  “So, I understand why you were angry.”

“You, Sam, changed the menu to just one food group!”  Agatha’s voice was rising to those terrible echoes in the mind, and the tiny voice got louder.  Still it was ignored.

“I understand now that it was probably a bad idea.  No one’s been going to the line in the cafeteria all week except fellow vegans,” Sam grumbled.  “Still though, some change needed to happen. The cafeteria wasn’t giving us any healthy foods!”  Sam was a good actress when it came to her voice. She sounded unafraid, ready to argue for hours.  Danny could feel something off though, ripples of yellow in her night grey, black and purple self.

“And healthy diets aren’t exactly easy to come by if you don’t put a lot of effort into it nowadays.”  Tucker held out a sheaf of papers. “This, Miss Reece, is a report on the various health crises around the country because of the food they’re feeding us.”  The papers were taken and Tucker let out as subtle a breath as possible. “I don’t agree with changing the menu to just one food group, no one in their right mind would.  But I think we should still change things up. Is there any way you can help us do that?”

There was a long beat of quiet, where all that Danny could hear was the sizzle of patties on a grill, the crunch of lettuce being pulled apart, the chopping of a knife on a cutting board the came with Agatha’s presence.  It was in the background of everything unless he focused. It was still there though, and it was so distracting with everything else happening. Agatha read, frown deepening as she did before she handed the reports on obesity and diabetes increasing in children of their ages and lower back to Tucker.  “Alright,” she started, then stopped. A superfluous breath. She looked to Danny. “Well, I suppose that I was a tad extreme about everything. How about this?” She held out her hand, and above her glove, the green light that seemed to shine in all directions from her coalesced into the form of a burger.   “I’m not sure they’ll accept me in the school kitchens again but I’m certainly able to make a meal for everyone.”

“That’s amazing!”  Tucker crowed. “I’ve already sent a few texts and set up some online polls to find out what most people actually want out of their lunch, maybe you can help us with finding ingredients around Amity?  Do you have a food sense?”

“Even if they don’t let you into the school’s kitchen you could still probably find a soup kitchen that’d definitely let you in,” Sam offered.  “If you can create food from basically nothing, then I see no reason for them to turn you away.”

“Plus, since ectoplasm draws energy from heat and electricity, you can probably just relax in the sun and be able to pull out a full course meal.”  Danny took in his friends’ curious looks and scratched the back of his neck. “My parents are the world’s best ghost scientists. I just asked them.”

“I’ll certainly look into that soup kitchen idea dearies,” Agatha said with a bright smile on her face.  “For now though, I should be getting back to the Astral Plane. Sunlight is a nice substitute but after all that fighting I need a quick break.”

“I can get you back there without my parents noticing,” Danny offered.

“I only need to be invisible for that, dear,”  Agatha assured them and faded out of sight. The chill and fading of the clearing dissipated, and Tucker and Sam relaxed visibly.

“Well,” Danny said as he pulled his notebook out of his bag.  “That’s one ghost down.” He hoped it wouldn’t be too many till he convinced his parents.

[pickalilywrites]

i am very bad at prompts but can i sell you my 1 (one) soul for a hilow plz i love u

love u 2!!!!

Say What You Mean

Hilow. Canonverse. 

1387 words. 

Buy me a ko-fi!

Marlowe has never seen the point in keeping the truth from others. The only time he’s ever felt that it was okay to do so was only if one was waiting to reveal it at an appropriate moment. Otherwise, he always makes sure to speak his mind. How else can change happen if he always bites his tongue and refuses to say anything? It’s why he constantly speaks up whenever he sees his peers or superiors take advantage of their position in the Military Police, harassing civilians to bend to their whims because they have more power and authority or even avoiding their duties entirely and pushing them down to the newer recruits because they don’t know any better. Oftentimes, his words go unheard, but he believes it’s better than keeping his mouth shut.

This policy of his also goes for more mundane topics – telling people honestly how they look if they ask him, informing people how their cooking tastes even if the dish is terrible, and telling people his honest opinion of how they’ve changed if they haven’t seen each other in a while. It is, of course, only something he does if they ask him for his thoughts in the first place because he realizes it’s annoying to push his unwanted opinions on others. He also tries to word them as best he can – not sugarcoating anything but not being unnecessarily cruel either. All he ever does is give them the simple truth because that’s what he figures that’s what people deserve even if it’s not really what they want.

He does wonder if his words ever hurt others. He’s that they do whenever he sees people wince when he tells them their food is too salty or that they look a little plumper, but they usually thank him for his constructive criticism and go about their way. If it’s a negative comment, he tries to phrase it gently and he thinks he’s gotten the hang of it by now. It’s far more troublesome than stating his positive observations, but he figures it’s only courteous.

If it’s a more neutral comment or something positive, he just states it rather plainly, never exaggerating or singing praises or downplaying his thoughts either. It’s much easier than dancing around people the way he has to do when critiquing friends, but somehow he’s managed to offend Hitch with his words anyway.

“All I said,” he tells Annie, who he had met on the way back to his room, “is that she’s a little too dressed up for a walk in the city. If she’s only going back to her folk’s home at Stohess, isn’t it more practical to wear something simpler?”

Although Annie had never really listened to his problems in depth before – the most she ever really does is remain in the same space as him and not walk out before he finishes talking – but she seems even more distracted now than she usually is. She glances impatiently around the hall as if finding a place to sneak by him, but she finally sighs and mutters, “What is it with the boys here never being able to talk to girls.”

“What do you mean?” Marlowe asks, a little bit offended. While he’s certainly not a ladies’ man, he can talk to women just as well as any other guy.

“Look, Marlowe,” Annie says with another sigh. She shifts the folders she holds from one arm to the other and gives him a tired look. “Usually when someone is dressed up a little differently than they normally are, they like people to comment on it.”

“I did!” Marlowe says, not understanding her at all. “I told her she should bring a jacket at least if she was going to be late.”

“Not like that. Ugh, it’s like talking to a child,” Annie says exasperatedly. She presses her fingers to her temple and takes a deep breath. After she finally exhales, she looks at Marlowe and says to him slowly, “Marlowe, sometimes…you need to be honest and just…say what you mean. How did she look? And don’t you dare say cold.”

Her words continue to baffle him. What does she mean how did Hitch look? Hitch looked like how she normally did but in a dress and with more noticeable makeup. Was he supposed to tell her that? But she would know just as much when she looked in the mirror, so saying it out loud would be pointless.

“Like…aesthetically,” Annie says, but this must not be the word either because Annie frowns. “No…just…how did looking at her make you feel? What did you think?”

How did it make him feel? Confused, mostly. He doesn’t understand how anyone can wear such flimsy material and be comfortable, but Hitch made it look so natural on her as it clung on her curvy frame at all the right places and the wide skirt seemed to float against her willowy legs. He’s not sure how she gets her hair to frame her face in the way, always falling neatly even though she often complains about how curls are difficult to maintain. What puzzles him the most are her painted lips and reddened cheeks, things that he never really understands on anyone because he thinks it’s unnecessary and cumbersome to apply makeup, but new color on her lips made them look even softer and more pillowy than they usually did and the color on her cheeks highlighted her delicate bone structure and the color of her eyes somehow. To him, it seemed like she had taken far too much work to get ready just to go out, doing all sorts of unnecessary and messy things, and somehow…

He thought she looked beautiful.

Flushing, he realizes that he’s unintentionally been keeping a truth from her, one he hadn’t even known about until now.

“Thanks, Annie!” he says to a startled Annie, who had been trying to sneak past him while he was zoned out.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Annie says as Marlow squeezes past her.

He knows what he has to do. He has to find Hitch and tell her what he’s thinking now even though he has no idea where she is. It’s better than waiting for her though, he thinks, because he has no idea how long she’ll be out. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know where she is right now anyway. He’ll manage to find her in the end.

He devises a plan to find her – going where he had last seen her, tracing her steps to her house using the small details she had given him in various conversations, and asking strangers if they had seen her – but it’s useless in the end because he bumps into her just as she begins to enter their dorms.

“Marlowe?” she says, frazzled. It’s the first time he’s seen her hair out of place, but it’s only because he was the one to knock into her and mess it up in the first place. She’s quick to fix it, easily putting it back in its place so that it frames her face perfectly, before asking, “What are you doing?”

“I just came to tell you,” Marlowe says, breathing a little hard from sprinting down the stairs, “that you look beautiful tonight. I’m sorry if my words were rude earlier…I just wasn’t able to say it before because I was so surprised when I saw you. I’m not used to seeing you in…clothes like this.”  

He thought she would be flattered, but she’s only staring at him in silence. “Did you…run out here just to tell me that?” she asks with a furrowed brow. When he nods, her cheeks begin to turn a darker pink and she reaches for the back of her head to touch a curl. Turning away from him, she mumbles, “You’re so weird…it’s not as if I dressed up for you anyway.”

He doesn’t think that she’s telling the truth, and he’s not sure why she’s lying to him now. It would be easier for him if she would just say what she means too, he thinks as he watches her push past him as she mutters something about having to wash off and get ready for the night, but he thinks this dishonest side of her is cute too somehow.