#AND I JUST REMEMBERED I PROMISED MY NEPHEW MONTHS AGO THAT ID MAKE HIM A NARUTO PLUSHIE. MY DAD PAID ME TO MAKE IT AND BOUGHT THE FABRIC

[conspicuous-clown-car]

ougghhh next month is gonna be BUSY

finish playing all fnaf games (SL-HW2) on twitch, make (as in like literally sewing) an outfit for a concert, ARTFIGHT which will probably take up most my time, putting together/making several cosplays for a con (one im not excited to cosplay as but im doing it for my partner), plus some other stuff i definitely forgot, all on top of working. wwouughbh

[writedreamlie]

Posted for Badger Cereal Week 2024! Theme: Parallels.

Also under a read-more in case you're not into links~

“Alicia, I just want to speak to him.”

“I don’t think he wants to speak to you.”

Vlad does everything in his power not to crush the phone to bits. It would take time to get another, and who knows if she’ll answer the phone next time he calls?

“Have you even asked him if he wants to speak to me?”

“I have not. Because”—a guttural sound, followed by what he suspects is the woman spitting violently into a spittoon—“I do not have to. Because I know Danny does not want anything to do with you.”

Vlad rubs a hand across his forehead. The headache that began creeping in when he started this call half an hour ago has well and fully set in. “How would you know if—”

“Because I heard more than enough about you from Ma—from my sister, and from what she said, you are not the kind of man I want around my nephew anymore.”

“Alicia, please,” he sighs. “I’ve been around him far more than you over the last few years—”

“Not in a good way.”

“—and so, I know him better. I know more of what he’s been through lately, and I was there when . . .” He can’t even say it. Can’t make his mouth form the words, his lungs expend the air to voice what he’s lost. What they all lost in the explosion. He takes a long, slow breath. “Daniel is going through some things that you simply would not understand. For several reasons.”

“And you would?” she asks, skepticism all but pouring through the phone.

“Yes,” he says. “Without a doubt. And I . . . I want to help.”

There’s silence on the other side, save for some crackling, like her phone is being passed from ear to ear, maybe covered by a hand.

Finally, “Fine. I will ask him. But I ain’t promising nothing more.”

“Thank you, Alicia. That’s all I—”

She’s hung up before he can finish. The cell phone dies the crushing death it was always destined for. He doesn’t expect he’ll get a call back any time soon, but he starts planning to get a new one as immediately as possible anyway. Just in case.

--

The caller ID does not read Alicia’s name for several months. When at last it does, though he’s in the middle of reviewing a document that’s at least 30 pages too long and has a meeting starting in 20 minutes, it only has to ring once.

“Hello?”

“Where is he?”

Vlad flips through the papers, wondering how many he could skim before he has to join the call. The question barely registers. “Where is who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, asshole. Where is Danny?”

That one registers. The papers flop back onto the desk. “What do you mean, where is he? How am I supposed to know? You very explicitly did not want me near him, remember?”

He can hear her teeth grinding before she grits out, “I do remember, but he’s been missing for days now, and you’re the main suspect.”

“What, you think I stole him?” That wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility a few years ago—certainly he’s tried it once or twice—but not recently. He’s been trying to be respectful of the boy’s boundaries. A lot of good that’s done, apparently.

“I don’t think it, I know it. Now, I’m gonna ask one more time before I stop being so nice. Where. Is. My. Nephew.”

“I. Do. Not. Know.”

“Listen here, shit-for-brains—”

“Alicia, if I knew, don’t you think I’d be rubbing it in your face rather than wasting both our time pretending I don’t know? You’re the one that lost him! I told you he’d have been better off here.”

There’s silence on the other line, but it’s a silence that feels like a screeching kettle about to boil over. When she speaks again, it’s with deadly calm.

“If I find out you have been hiding my nephew from me, there will not be a single place in this world or the next that you’ll be able to hide from me, Masters.”

His instinct is to scoff, but something in her tone just about makes him believe it. If anyone outside of the Fenton family was going to find a way to punch themselves through to the Ghost Zone for the sole reason of kicking his ass, it absolutely would be the sister of—

“I have to go. Good luck with the search.” He hangs up before she can retort.

The phone falls to the floor just as he falls through it.

He lands in a corner of the lab and makes his way to the portal, next to which is something that looks rather like a landline phone hung on the wall but which has never once been plugged into anything so mundane as a human phone line. He presses one of three buttons on the device—it’s not meant for a wide variety of calls—and stands with one foot tapping and one hand clenching and unclenching as it buzzes.

Then there’s a crackle on the other end, and the speaker lets through a tinny voice. He makes a note to install something cleaner sounding later.

“Plasmius,” Skulker offers warily.

No time to beat around the bush. “I have a job for you.”

--

“What do you mean, leave him alone?” Skulker demands. “You asked me to hunt down the ghost child, and I have! The next step in that process is usually catching what’s been hunted!”

“Not this time,” Vlad says, bringing a screwdriver to the side of the Zone phone even as he’s using it. The speaker really needs replacing; it’s hurting his ears to listen through it. “Send me your coordinates and keep an eye on him. If he moves an inch, I want to know. But you will not be capturing him. Do not even let him know you’re there.”

“What exactly is the point of this? I could just bring him right to you! I have the cube! He doesn’t even look like he’d put up much of a fight.” Skulker pauses, as if assessing his prey. Then, “He looks . . . sad. Tired. Ripe for the taking.”

Vlad sighs, nearly jabbing himself in the face with the screwdriver as he instinctively moves to rub his head. “Ripe for the leaving alone. Do not touch him. Do not engage. I will be there soon.” He presses the second of the three buttons on the device and continues fiddling with the inner mechanisms until he receives the coordinates from Skulker. Then, he’s gone.

--

Danny lies on a small island floating through the Zone. He is not moving. He is not breathing—he doesn’t need to in his ghost form, but it’s unsettling all the same. His expression is blank. His eyes are unfocused.

And the closer Vlad gets, the worse it looks. He can see dark bags under the boy’s eyes, like he hasn’t slept in some time, and he looks thinner than usual. The latter of these two things is more concerning given how little extra bulk Danny has in general. He’d been building up some muscle over the last year or two, but given all that’s happened recently . . .

Well, Vlad can’t say his appearance is surprising, but it is worrying.

He floats down as gently as he can, not wanting to spook Danny away, but the disinterested teen does not react to his presence at all, even as he settles into the rock right next to him.

“Daniel?” No response. “Danny? Little Badger?” The boy’s arms are spread out to his sides, and Vlad chances a poke to his nearest hand.

At this, Danny’s eyes finally seem to focus, and they roll to look at Vlad, though that’s the only part of him that moves. For several long seconds, they stare at each other, like each is waiting for the other to speak, and Danny breaks first. He takes a long, slow breath in, and on the exhale asks airily, “What?”

“Are you—” Vlad starts out of habit, then stops. Of course he’s not all right. What a stupid question. “What are you doing out here?”

Danny’s arms shift a bit in a half-hearted horizontal shrug.

“Your Aunt Alicia called me,” he says, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. “She said you’ve been gone for days. Is that true?”

Another shrug. “Has it been days?”

“Do you not know?” Vlad demands.

“Nope. What day is it?”

“Tuesday.”

“Oh. More like a week, then.”

“A week?!” Vlad looks more closely at Danny: the pronounced thinness of his arms, the gauntness of his face, and the pulsing green glow surrounding his form. Not unusual in a ghost, but in a boy who’s only supposed to be half-ghost . . . “Daniel, you haven’t been here that whole time, have you?”

Danny nods, and he blinks several times as if banishing a thought.

It’s almost enough to make Vlad throw the boy over his shoulder and carry him out himself. But on some level, he knows that wouldn’t help. Trying to drag him out now would only make him want to come back again later, and he’d surely make himself even harder to find the second time.

He has to convince Danny to go on his own.

But how to convince an upset teenager of anything at all?

“You know, I really . . . I should have . . . There’s a lot I could have taught you before now. And not in the power-hungry way I usually mean it,” he adds when Danny’s eyebrows scrunch together. It’s a small motion, but even the minor expression is encouraging, so Vlad carries on. “What’s done is done. Let’s start now. Daniel: you cannot spend this much time in your ghost form in the Ghost Zone, for while the ambient energy here fuels your ghost half, your human half is actively deteriorating."

Danny shifts, rolling to one side and then the other before settling back onto his back. “I don’t feel anything wrong.”

“You wouldn’t. Won’t. Not until you change back. I would urge you to do so somewhere comfortable in the human realm, perhaps after eating something substantial.”

“What are you, a ghost doctor now?”

Vlad has to repress a flinch at the phrase. “No. But I do know what I’m talking about.”

Danny sighs and rolls his eyes. “I’ll go back eventually. I just need time.”

“You don’t have time, Daniel.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I means—” Vlad clenches his fists, resisting the urge to turn his answer into a taunt. There’s no reason the boy would already know these things. In fact, it would be best if he didn’t have to know them at all. But if he’s going to be stubborn . . . “If you stay in this state much longer, you won’t have a body to go back to. The human body is fragile, Daniel, and dying twice isn’t a pleasant experience.”

Danny huffs. “Like you would know.”

“Yes, I would.”

At that, Danny seems to go even stiller than he had been before, which is a feat given how little he’d been moving up to this point. Then, he slowly sits up, legs still dangling over the side of the rock as his hands come to rest in his lap and his head swivels to face Vlad.

He’s clearly still trying to remain stoic, but curiosity—and a hint of fear—play across his features briefly.

“What . . . What do you mean?” he asks.

Vlad thinks for a moment, trying to decide how best to explain. “You know there are occasionally natural portals to the Ghost Zone, yes?”

“Yeah,” Danny says with a nod.

“Imagine that, in the early days of using your powers, you’d fallen through one. What would you do?”

Danny shrugs. “Easy. I’d get back out through the—Oh.”

Vlad laces his fingers together, the picture of patience he truly does not have much more of. “Yes. Oh. Imagine falling through in the days before you knew fully what was happening to you. Alone. Before any other reliable portals had been established.”

“Uh . . .” Danny goes still and silent again, presumably imagining just that. “Yeah. Yikes.”

“Indeed.” He doesn’t want to get into the gritty details—what he had been doing prior, how afraid he was to turn back into his human form in case the strange world he’d found himself in killed him on contact, the sheer dread at the prospect of never seeing the sun again—as he was sure none of that would help right now. A story for another day, perhaps. “I was fortunate to have found myself here with at least a few provisions I’d already had with me, and even more fortunate that I found another natural portal out before my human half expired entirely. But it was a near thing.”

Danny looks down at his hands, flexing the white-gloved fingers thoughtfully, and Vlad finds himself flexing his black-clad hands in response.

“Maybe . . . maybe that’s for the better.”

“Excuse me?” Vlad demands.

Danny sighs. “If I died, would it stop hurting? Could I just”—he waves a hand at the general vastness of the Zone—“move on?”

Rage. Rage and indignancy like he’s never felt before course through Vlad’s chest, and he turns, one clenched fist slamming into the rock and startling the boy next to him out of his reverie. How dare this whelp—this whisp of a child—think he knows grief? How dare he presume to feel more misery than Vlad, who has lost and lost and lost, and how dare he imply the best way out is to leave him alone again—

The words are flying out of his mouth before he can stop them: “You think you can just die to get away from your problems? What would your mother think?”

It’s almost a relief when the boy’s fist hits his chin, sending him flying backward through the odd gravity of the Ghost Zone. But evidently, that isn’t enough for Danny, as he follows Vlad’s trajectory, both hands glowing green.

“I think I’d know what my own mom thinks better than you would,” he says, letting loose his two-handed attack.

Vlad reorients himself in time to roll out of the way, readying an attack of his own. “Would you, though?” He shoots off a series of ectoblasts, sending Danny on a zig-zag path of evasion. “You only knew her as a mother. I knew her as a person. As a friend.”

“Ha!” Danny laughs once, derisively. “Some friend you turned out to be. Chasing after her like a creep even though she proved over and over that she didn’t love you!” As if to drive the point home, he launches himself forward, fist extended.

“I knew she didn’t love me!” Vlad catches that fist in one hand, then pivots to let Danny’s momentum carry him forward and away. “Even so,” he says, readying a shield for the inevitable return fire, “she didn’t want me dead.”

Danny doesn’t deign to answer this with anything but the expected ectoblasts. Vlad lets a few of these hit his shield before dropping it and disappearing, only to reappear behind Danny. The boy startles but isn’t fast enough to move out of the way before Vlad’s arms are around him, pinning both of his own arms to his sides. He kicks ineffectually, tries and fails to phase out of the grip, then flings his head backward, forcing Vlad to turn his head back and forth to evade while still holding on.

“Daniel, listen to me for once!” Vlad shakes him, a maneuver so silly and unexpected that Danny’s attempts to escape cease momentarily. “Madeline did not want me dead. Me. Someone she did not love, who she probably even hated in the end.” If holding Danny is taking all his physical effort, it takes all his mental effort to push the surge of heartbreak down and away for later. He’s never properly admitted that to anyone, not even himself, even though he knew it. He’d hoped . . . Well, he’d hoped there would still be time to remedy that. But this isn’t about him, not right now. “If she didn’t want me dead, seriously consider: How would she feel about someone she did love trying to end themselves for her sake?”

Danny gives one last half-hearted kick to Vlad’s shins before going limp. Vlad watches for any telltale signs of another attack being prepared, but none come. After several long minutes, the boy in his arms begins to shake, but not like he’s trying to get away.

In a voice thick with emotion, Danny asks, “Then what?”

When he tries to turn to face Vlad, Vlad lets go. Danny drifts away, but not far, and wraps his arms around himself. The tears building in his eyes aren’t surprising, but Vlad still isn’t sure what to do about them.

“She’s not here,” Danny continues. “She’s not here to tell me what she’d want me to do. She’s gone. They’re all gone. I don’t know who I am without them. So what do I do?”

The words are echoes of his own thoughts, reaching across decades to tear open a hole in his chest that he thought he’d long since patched over. They’re gone. I’m alone. What do I do without them?

“You live,” Vlad sighs. “For yourself, if no one else. Although, you have at least a few other people willing to give you a reason if you don’t feel that’s a strong enough one.”

Danny’s hands come up to rub at his eyes, and he seems to be fighting back more tears, wiping them away until—

He loses the fight.

He lets a sob slip free.

They don’t stop, and suddenly his head is pressed to Vlad’s chest, hands still covering his face but not enough to hide the deep, hitching breaths. Vlad’s hands hang uselessly in the air before his brain catches up and he wraps his arms around Danny again, much more loosely this time.

“It’s not fair,” the boy says between sobs.

“No,” Vlad agrees.

“I miss them so much,” Danny says, voice tight like he’s struggling to get the words out.

Vlad nods. What else is there to say?

“I wanna go home.”

That gives Vlad pause. Technically, there’s nothing stopping the youngest Fenton—the only Fenton now—from going back to his family’s home. The Fentons’ effects have been removed, personal items put in storage by Alicia, laboratory equipment largely claimed by Vlad, except for a few items stolen by various research facilities he’s still trying to track down.

But he also knows that’s not what Danny means. He doesn’t just want to go back to the house; he wants to go back to the way things were. He wants to return to a house full of people, noise, life—but he must know that’s something that he can’t possibly do.

Vlad wonders if Danny has gone back at all in the last few months. If he has any of his parents’ or sister’s things to remember them by. Would it help Danny to go back, to see the place where things had once been good?

Would it help either of them?

Vlad pulls Danny away, but only far enough to look him in the eyes. “Do you really?” he asks.

Danny takes a long, wobbling breath and nods. Then, “Will . . . Will you come with me?”

“Of course, little badger.” He offers a small smile as something other than grief worms its way through his chest, a feeling he’s not at liberty to examine just now. “Did you want to go now?”

Danny turns his head to look out into the vast abyss of the Ghost Zone, clearly thinking. Then he decides, “No. Not yet. I, um. I should probably change back and eat something first, like you said. And then maybe . . .”

A weight Vlad didn’t even realize he was carrying lifts, and he can suddenly breathe a little easier. “Of course. If you’d like to come back to my home for a bit, I’d be happy to get you whatever you might be hungry for. On one condition.”

Danny sniffles and straightens, looking more like himself with every passing moment. “There’s always a catch with you, isn’t there? What do you want?”

“I want you . . . to call your Aunt Alicia and tell her I did not kidnap you so she doesn’t send a goon-squad manhunt after me.”

Danny lets out a laugh, brief but real, and it feels like the world rights itself a little bit more. “She would, wouldn’t she?” he asks, wiping the last of the moisture from his face.

“I have no doubt. But if we could avoid that, I feel we’d all be better off. So, food for a phone call. Deal?” Vlad holds out his hand.

“Deal.” Danny shakes the offered hand, then holds it for a second longer as he adds, “And thank you.”

“Yes, yes,” Vlad says, waving both hands through the air as if to dispel the miasma of feelings that’s quite thoroughly surrounded them. “Let’s just get you back in one piece, hmm?” With that, he turns and heads for his portal, not giving himself time to worry that Danny won’t follow.

Danny does. “Always finding ways to save your own skin.”

Vlad does not point out that it wasn’t just his own skin he was worried about saving this time.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Worth the Wait

Author: @ameliaodair​ 

Prompt: Modern AU: Peeta and Katniss were on vacation in Argentina. Their days are up now and they’re on their way back to the US, however, a tornado alert gets them stranded in Lima, Peru. It’s Halloween and they were supposed to go trick or treating with Finnick and Annie and now here they are. What they didn’t know, is that in Peru they celebrate something called Día de la Canción Criolla, and they get swept into the joyous atmosphere. Dressing up as the locals, Everlark celebrate Halloween in a different way. [submitted by @evestedic​]

Rating: T

Author’s Note: I tweaked the prompt a little, hope you still like it :)  This is my first time writing for one of these, so I hope I did it right, and I hope I did the prompt justice.  Enjoy :)

I always want to say thanks to my wonderful beta @eiramrelyat​.

____________

Part 1

Katniss tosses her suitcase into the trunk of her car, irritated that her flight was cancelled.  She promised her sister she would be home tomorrow, in time to see her niece and nephews’ costumes for their very first Halloween.  If there was one thing in this world that Katniss despised, it was disappointing her baby sister.

“A tornado?  Seriously, a freaking tornado in Peru!  Just wonderful!”  She mumbles to herself, securing her seatbelt in place.  Before leaving the parking lot she reaches for her phone, browsing for somewhere to stay for a night or two; at least until she can catch the next flight home.  “Great, no service.”  Could anything else go wrong today?  She thinks to herself, tossing her phone back into her purse.

After being stuck in traffic for nearly an hour, only going at a speed of ten miles per hour, she tries to summon the courage to call her sister.  Gripping her hands firmly around the wheel and tapping her fingers nervously, she finally speaks to the car’s navigation system. “Call Prim.” 

“Calling Prim” The car responds.  Prim answers on the second ring, the excitement laced in her voice.

“Oh my gosh Katniss, I am so excited for you to see the twins’ costumes!  Are you in the states yet?  What time is your flight?  Do you have an estimated arrival time?  I can come and get you, or…or—" 

Katniss cringes at her sister’s questions before deciding to interrupt her. “Prim, I um…there was a problem- no, there is a problem.”  Katniss looks out the window, noticing how crowded the streets are, and the people seem to be dressed rather…vivaciously.  ‘I wonder what that’s all about?’ She thinks to herself.

“What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m fine.  It’s just that…my flight…well, it got cancelled.  I mean…not ‘cancelled,’ cancelled, but more like…delayed.  There’s like…a severe tornado warning or something and they’ve grounded all flights until further notice.”

‘Are they…dancing?’ Katniss thinks to herself, seeing a woman be twirled around in an immaculate dress, the dress fanning out to reveal the beautiful colors.

“Seriously?  Katniiisss….”  Prim whines like a toddler, elongating Katniss’s name.

“Give me a break, Prim, you’ll take a zillion pictures, we’ll facetime, and you can dress them up when I get home.  They’re babies, they won’t even know the difference.”

“But I will.” Katniss despises it when Prim does this.  Looking out the window again, Katniss sees a group of small kids dressed up in costumes.

‘How adorable.’  She thinks to herself, smiling.

“Come on Prim…This is totally out of my control.  You know I would be there if I could.  Plus, don’t you have a wonderful husband to keep you busy?”

“Yeah…I do—” Katniss can hear the smile in Prim’s voice and that always makes her happy.  Even after being together for five years, Prim and Rory are still so sickening in love with each other; it would make Katniss sick if she didn’t love her sister so much. “But he’s not you.  No one can replace you, big sister.”

“I know Prim—” Katniss cranes her neck out the open window to see what all the commotion is about.  “Prim, I need to go…there is something…I don’t know what it is, but I’ll call you later.  Take lots of pictures for me!”  She says just before ending the call, not giving Prim the opportunity to make her feel any worse.  As if that is even possible.

A month ago the company Katniss works for asked someone to take an impromptu trip to Argentina, just before the holiday’s no less. To have the opportunity arise to be the mediator in an attempt to merge their company with one of the hotshot rivalry companies nearby, Katniss was the first to volunteer. 

With no life other than her sister and her sister’s family, Katniss had no obligations which left her the perfect candidate to leave the country.  Everyone else had families they didn’t want to leave, not knowing how long it would take to do the negotiations, they did not want to risk being in another country for the holidays.

It had been almost ten years since she lost the love of her life and she had accepted the fact that you only get one of those per lifetime.  She was secretly hoping for better luck in her next one.  He was beautiful and he was perfect, and she thought their love transcended time and space.  So what if they were only teenagers, and so what if she had not seen him in almost ten years.  It did not seem to matter how many times she tried to find love, it just never felt right. 

At seventeen years old, she and her sister became orphans.  Social Services came to her house early one morning and loaded her and Prim into a car, refusing to allow them to say goodbye to anyone.

Katniss no longer cries from the anguish of losing him, but the agony from missing him is still as fresh as that first night.  When she turned eighteen, she could have gone back to Panem, but she was too scared.  What if she went back and he had moved on?  Found someone else to love, got married, and…no, not knowing was better.  Rejection would be worse.   

Katniss hoped this trip would give her some insight as to what she might do with the rest of her life.  She cannot continue to lean on Prim forever; she has her own family now.

Katniss finally makes out what the commotion is ahead of her and a smile forms on her lips when she catches sight of the herds of people dancing in the street, causing her to remember their dance competition.  With him.  “Dammit Katniss, stop it.  Why do you keep thinking about him today?”  She scolds herself before spotting a hotel across the street.  She pulls into a parking space, crossing her fingers they have a vacancy, but by the looks of the massive hoards of people crowding the streets, she is not very confident.

She reaches up to her neck where her collar bone dips in, and with her thumb and forefinger, she pinches the pearl that hangs from her necklace.  From him.  It is the necklace he gave her on her sixteenth birthday.  ‘As long as you wear this necklace, you will know how much I love you. Always.’ 

‘Always.’  It was their ‘thing.’  Some people made promises of forever, but not them.  No, they promised for always.  She remembers his exact words, and for some reason, he feels closer than ever.  Close enough to touch.  Something in the back of her mind says.

Shaking her head to rid her mind of the penetrating thoughts, Katniss decides to make her way into the hotel to see if there is a room available before unloading her suitcase.  She locks the rental car and pushes her way through the crowded streets and into the entrance of The Holiday Inn.

Upon entering the building, Katniss is greeted by a beautiful woman with perfectly golden hair and a smile bright enough to light up the entire building.  She says something in Spanish that Katniss cannot understand, confusion written all over her face.

“Crap, I left my translator in my car” Katniss mumbles under her breath after reaching over and checking her purse.

Realizing that Katniss does not understand her, the woman speaks again, this time in English, laced with a heavy accent.  “Welcome to The Holiday Inn, can I interest you in a room?”

“Oh, you speak English!” Katniss says, more excited than she should be.

“Effie does not allow any of her employees to man the front desk unless they are fluent in English.  We get a lot of tourists.”  Madge says, explaining to her.

“Effie?”  Katniss asks, finding the name strange.  Like she’s one to talk.

“Effie is the boss.  This is her hotel.  She’s more of a designer if you ask me, but she’s famous for dressing people up for the Dia de la Canción Criolla!  She will be knocking on your door within the next hour!”

“Dia day what?”  Katniss asks, not hearing what Madge said due to how fast the words seemed to escape her mouth.

“Dia De La Canción Criolla.  It is a celebration of Criolla music.  There will be dancing, lots of dancing!  And music, yes…beautiful music!  You should come, it’s so much fun!”  Madge tells her with stars in her eyes, as if she is remembering a heartfelt moment.

“Oh, well…I’ll think about it.”  Katniss says timidly, giving Madge a smile.

Katniss is thrilled the hotel has a vacancy and hands Madge her credit card to confirm her room for the night.  While she waits for the transaction to process, she and Madge make small talk.  Madge returns her credit card and ID along with the plastic key card with the numbers ‘12-13’ displayed on the front, as well as a brochure.

“If you take these elevators up to the twelfth floor and make a quick right, room thirteen will be on your left.  Here is a list of amenities as well as numbers if there is anything you need.  And Katniss?”

“Yes?”

“You should come out for the night.  You only live once.”

With a polite smile, Katniss nods her head, turning her back to Madge to retrieve her suitcase from her car.

Nearly half an hour later, she returns to the hotel with her suitcase in tow and steps onto the elevator.  Just as the doors begin to close, she spots a man running, trying to catch the elevator before the doors close.  Katniss presses the button to keep the elevator open, but she is just a moment too late.  With a mind of its own, the doors seal themselves shut, rising her up to the twelfth floor.

‘Why do I keep thinking about him today?  Why does he feel so close to me?  I’m in Peru for Heavensbee’s sake!’  Katniss says smiling to herself, reaching for the pearl again.  ‘Heavensbee’s sake’ was one of ‘their’ inside jokes.  “Perhaps this ‘Dia De La…whatchamacallit is just the thing I need to distract my mind from him.  And who knows what’ll happen.”  She mumbles to herself, entering her hotel room. 

When the door slams shut behind her, she hears the distinct ‘ding’ from the elevator.  ‘Whoever that man was must have made it up.’  She thinks to herself, recalling the flash of blonde hair, with those bouncing blonde waves, just like him.  ‘No, stop it.  He is not here Katniss.  It has been ten years.  Ten years.  You should be over him by now.  So, just…Get over it.’

But she’s not, and she can’t.

Freshly out of the shower, with one towel wrapped around her body and another one on the top of her head, she reaches for the phone and proceeds to call the number Madge had given her.  She needs to do something to distract her mind.  She is going to celebrate Dia De La Canción Criolla like a Peruvian.

“Give me a break Dad.  It’s Halloween, it’s not even really a holiday.  The bakery will survive if I’m gone for another few days.”

“I know kid, I know.  I’m sorry…I just…you know…I miss you.  You’ve been gone for like—”

“Two weeks.  I have been gone for two weeks.  And I will be home in a few more days.  Control over the weather is not a power I have homed in on as of yet.”  Peeta’s dad chuckles at his words but is still disappointed.  “Listen dad, as soon as they open the flights back up, the airline promised to call me, and I’ll be on the first flight back to the states.  Now look, I’ve gotta go, the streets here are insane and I need to find a place to crash for the night.  I’ll let you know when to pick me up.”

“Okay, son.  Oh, and Peet?”

“Yeah, dad?”

“Try to have some fun.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll try.  I’ve gotta go, bye dad.”  Peeta ended the call before giving his father any more fuel to drag the call on longer.

Peeta woke up that morning with an uncanny feeling that something was wrong.  When he got to school that morning and she wasn’t there, that feeling in his stomach intensified.  They talked to each other every day before and after school.  She was his best friend, and he was hers.  They told each other everything, so when he still had not heard from her by dinner that night, he knew deep in his gut something was wrong.  Really wrong.

The next day, Magnolia, one of her sister’s friends, came to him asking if he had heard anything from either of the girls.  For two days now, both girls have been missing from school.  Magnolia did not know it, but she had just confirmed the gut-wrenching fear in the pit of his stomach. 

For days, Peeta hounded the adults to no avail, questioning anyone he could as to her whereabouts.  She would never just up and leave without telling him, at least not without saying goodbye.

After two weeks, Peeta’s father realized that Peeta needed answers, that he would not be able to rest until he knew what happened to her, so using his connections he was able to obtain some information.  Peeta cried in his father’s arms as he told him what happened.  Social services came that morning, came before the sun was even up, and basically kidnapped the girls.  Both of their parents died in a car accident and at sixteen and a half years old, she took over the role of mom and dad to her little sister.  Apparently, someone placed an anonymous call, claiming to be “worried,” about the girls, hence social service ripping them from their lives.

For years, Peeta tried to find her.  But when his father lost his job, they had to relocate to another state.  Peeta did not want to leave if by some chance she came back looking for him, but he was only a kid himself, so he didn’t have a choice. 

At one point, he hired a private investigator, but so far; nothing has come up.  All his friends and family keep insisting he “move on,”  But he just couldn’t, he can’t.  “You don’t just move on from your soulmate, from your one true love” he told them all.  There is no one else, only her.  If I am not with her, then I will just be alone.  One day, he will find her, he is certain of it. 

“I know I’m probably asking the impossible, but would you happen to have a room for one?”  Peeta asks once he reaches the desk, giving the beautiful girl his most charming smile.

“Oh, don’t let the streets fool you, sir.  It’s Día De La Canción Criolla, the Peruvian festival of Music.  And to answer your question, yes, in fact we do.”  The receptionist, Madge, proceeded to tell him with her heavy accent and dazzling smile, staring at the computer screen in front of her, typing away.

A few minutes later, Madge hands him his plastic key card to his room in the penthouse along with a brochure filled with amenities, phone numbers, and information about this “Dia De La Canción Criolla.”

“Since you are already here sir, you should come out tonight and check it out.  Have some fun.”  Have some fun, those were his father’s exact words.

But dancing…especially that kind of dancing brought him back to memories of her.  She was the captain of the dance club in high school and she convinced him to enter a couple’s dance competition with her.  Never able to tell her no, he agreed.  He was never as good as her, but where he lacked, she excelled.  It was like that with everything they did.  They picked up each other’s slack.  When one was weak, the other was strong.  Always.

As he is scribbling his signature on the consent form to bill him at checkout, for just a split microsecond he thinks he sees her.  Heading onto the elevator is a woman with the same shade of hair, in that same over the shoulder braid she would wear, and the same olive complexion.  It had been almost ten years since the last time he saw her face, ten years since the last time his lips touched hers, but he is certain that one-hundred years could go by…no, a thousand years could pass, and he would always know her. Always.

Once his ‘T’s’ are crossed, he politely excuses himself from the receptionist, and runs to the elevator.  He can’t make her face out as the doors slide shut, but he can tell she tried to hold the door for him, but it was too late.  The elevator has a mind of its own and she slipped through his fingers.

“It’s not her, it couldn’t possibly be.”  He tells himself, his head hanging down as he presses the button and waits for the elevator.  He rides up to the twelfth floor and as soon as the doors open, he hears a door slamming from around the corner.  He finds his room, walks into it, and plops down on the bed.

Lying back on the bed, something in Peeta’s pocket begins poking his thigh.  He reaches into his pocket and grips firmly onto the pocket watch that he always keeps with him.  From her.  

At fifteen years old, he began saving his earnings from working at the bakery for eight months in order to buy her that necklace.  When he first saw it hanging in the shop, he knew he just had to have it.  He knew it was made just for her. It had been sitting in his underwear drawer for almost two weeks before he gave it to her on her sixteenth birthday.  His gift brought tears to her eyes because of what it meant.

She wanted to give him something too, but he insisted that it doesn’t work that way.  You do not give a gift to someone because they gave you something.  That was the first time she said those three magical little words.  She told him, “I’m not giving this to you because you gave me this necklace, I’m giving this to you…I want you to have this because I love you.”  It was her father’s, a gift from her mother.  It meant the world to her, so he knew what she was saying before she even said the words.

“Dammit Peeta!  Get a grip.  It isn’t her, I’m in Peru for Heavensbee’s sake!  An entire country away!”  Peeta yells at himself, confused as to why she is on his mind so hard today.

Peeta jumps into the shower, having decided that maybe he will join the festivities, if for nothing else, then to distract his mind from her.  He picks up the brochure and places a call to one of the names Madge had recommended.  If he is going to a Peruvian festival…(or is it a party?), he is going to need something to wear.

 Part 2

“Hi Katniss, my name is Cinna and I’ll be your stylist.”  Katniss lets the man in that Effie had recommended helping her find something to wear for tonight.

“Come in, it’s nice to meet you Cinna, I’m Katniss.”  Katniss sticks her hand out to Cinna, but he ignores it and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace.  He then pulls back and circles around her, inspecting her from all angles.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”  Cinna asks after he finishes orbiting her once.

“What gave it away?  My accent? Or the constant look of confusion permanently embedded on my face?”  Cinna chuckles at her, deciding that he is going to like this girl.  She is something special.

“I’ve met everyone who comes through here, and I am certain I would remember a face as radiant as yours,”  Cinna says, noticing the rosy hue filling Katniss’s cheeks.  There is a knock on the door, startling Katniss.  Cinna reaches for the doorknob and opens the door, and three strange-looking people come bouncing in.  Their hair is quite flamboyant, they wear some rather vivid and strange colors, but they look at Cinna as if he were the sun.  But most importantly, they seem truly happy to be here, to help her.

“Katniss, these are my assistants, and they will be helping me in getting you ready for tonight.”

“Okay.  But, you do realize that I’m dressing up for this Dia de la Festival thing and not my wedding, right?”

“Dia de la Canción Criolla.”  Octavia, one of Cinna’s assistants says so fast, Katniss only heard gibberish.

“How do you guys say that so fast?”

‘I wonder if they do this often?’  Katniss thinks to herself when Flavius, another of Cinna’s assistants rolls in this cart filled with the most immaculate, dazzling dresses, shoes, and so many other accessories Katniss would never dream of wearing.

They get right down to business, no dilly-dallying.  Katniss tries on dress after dress for what felt like hours, only to have them settle on the first dress, much to Katniss’s irritation.  Each dress takes all four of them to help her into, which Katniss could not begin to fathom why it was so difficult. 

The dress they decide on is more beautiful than she is able to put into words.  The upper half clings to her form, accentuating each of her womanly curves.  It is a modest dress, for when she looks in the mirror, she feels beautiful, but not provocative.  It shows just enough cleavage, but not too much.  The skirt of the dress is loose and free-flowing, if anyone happens to twirl her around tonight, it will fan out in immaculate precession.

“Oh, Miss Katniss, just you wait till someone spins you around in this baby.”  Katniss looks startled as she scowls at Flavius.

“Wh-what’ll happen?”

“I can’t give away all the secrets, now can I?”  Flavius looks at her conspiratorially.

“Don’t worry Katniss, nothing bad will happen.”  Cinna places a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.  But it isn’t his touch that calms her, but the gentle tone of his voice.  She cannot help but notice that Cinna has this natural air about him, he makes her feel calm just by entering the room.

Once they finish adding the final touches to her dress, they chain her to a chair, (figuratively speaking) and get to work on her hair.

“So, is there a special someone we’re fixing you up for the night?”  Just as Cinna asks the question, Effie walks into the room.

“Oh, hello guys, don’t mind me.  I just wanted to observe the divine Cinna at work!”  Effie pulls up a chair, making sure she isn’t in the way, and watches as their experienced fingers intricately style Katniss’ hair.

Katniss is hypnotized as she watches four sets of hands intricately brush, comb, part, separate, and braid her hair.

Remembering Cinna’s question, Katniss blushes before saying, “Oh no.  There is no one, I just…I just…Well, since I’m already here, I figured I should get the full Peruvian experience.”

“Oh, you have a man back at home, do you?”  Octavia blurts out.

“No.  No, there isn’t anyone.  Well, once…No, never mind.”

“Awe, come on! Tell us!”  Flavius pleads with her.

“PLEEEEASE!!”  All three assistants beg at the same time in a sing-song voice.

Katniss hesitates for a moment, realizing there is no harm in confiding in these complete strangers, she starts.  “Well, there was this one guy, once.  When I was younger.”

“Ooooh, was he handsome?”

“What color were his eyes?”

They each spit out their own questions, curious to the man who once held her heart, forcing the image of his perfect face into the forefront of her mind.

“No, he was not handsome…. He was…he was beautiful.  He had the bluest eyes, bluer than the ocean and the sky mixed together.  And his hair…it was this sandy blonde, with just the right amount of waves, you know…not too curly but definitely not straight.  He was my best friend, my soul mate.  He was everything to me.”

“So, what happened?”  Flavius blurts out.

“You speak of him as if you’re still in love with him,”  Vennia says, giving Katniss a forlorn look.

“I got…I got ripped away from him.  And I haven’t been able to find him since.  But someone as amazing as him, surely he’s married with a few kids by now.”  Katniss omits how she is actually too chicken to even look for him as she hangs her head down, the pain of him with someone else cut like razors.

Effie’s eyes go wide as she recognizes this story, without excusing herself, she gets up and storms out of the room in a dash.

“What was that about?”  Katniss asks inquisitively.

Flavius does a motion with his hands and rolls his eyes.  “Who knows?  That woman is a bit cuckoo.”  However, Katniss notices the knowing look being shared between Cinna and his assistants.

“Perfecto!”  Vennia says once her hair is complete.

“Now, one last thing,”  Octavia says, reaching for the clasp around Katniss’ neck.

Katniss spins around to face Octavia, “Wh-What are you doing?”

“I have a better one for you to wear tonight.”

“No, the necklace does not come off.”  The firm tone in Katniss’s voice tells everyone not to argue.

And they don’t.

 Effie storms back into Peeta’s room- the busy body she is- and pulls up a chair next to Peeta as Portia and her team get him ready for the night.

“Peeta?  Will you tell me about your girl again?  The one from your childhood.”  Peeta raises an eyebrow, making sure to hold his head still as Portia does whatever she is doing to his hair.  He isn’t sure why it is taking so long, but he doesn’t question her.

Peeta’s eyes light up at the thought of his girl.  “Oh Effie, she was…she was perfect.  She was the sun and the moon and the stars, all in one.”  Effie notices the sparkle in Peeta’s eyes as he speaks of the girl.  “She was so beautiful, and her eyes…I’ve never seen the same shade on another human being’s face, silver as the moonlight, intense as the night sky.  Her hair, well back then it was long, nearly to the middle of her back.  But she always wore it in this braid over her shoulder—” Effie’s eyes go wide as she listens to Peeta, realizing he is describing the girl in the next room.

‘Could it be?’  Effie thinks to herself.  “Peeta, I think you should meet your neighbor.  Maybe you could share a dance with her…Spend a night on the town—”

Peeta chuckles before interrupting her.  “That’s okay Effie.  I’m going home as soon as the airlines call me anyway.  I just wanted to experience Dia De La Canción Criolla Peruvian style.”

Effie shrugs her shoulders, getting up to leave as an idea comes to mind.  If her plan is to succeed, she will need help.  “Okay, Peeta.  Your loss.”

Effie waits in her office until she sees Miss Everdeen exit the hotel.  Once she knows Cinna is free, she immediately goes to him and shares her suspicions.

“Cinna, we must, we absolutely must bring those two together!”

“Effie, what are the chances that the true love they lost and speak of just happens to be in the next room?  An entire country away?”  Cinna asks, exasperated by Effie’s infatuation with true love.

“Okay, so maybe I’m wrong…But what would it hurt?”  Cinna thinks about it for a moment, deciding no harm could come of it, he listens to Effie’s plan.

x – x – x

“Thank you for coming with me Portia, I felt a little strange coming out here by myself.”  Peeta gives Portia a smile as they leave the hotel and join the crowded streets.  There are people dancing everywhere, children carousing the streets alongside their parents dressed up in their costumes. 

“Would you like to dance Portia?” Portia scans the area, looking for any sign of Cinna, and then nods her head.  She will dance them closer to where Cinna is with his girl.

“Where did you learn to dance Peeta?  You’re quite good.”  Peeta blushes at Portia’s compliment.

“Katniss.”

“Katniss?  Was that her name?  Your sweetheart back home?”

Peeta nods, just as a handkerchief flies into his face.  He reaches for it, holding it in front of him with a confused look.  “What the—”

“It means there is a lovely lady who wishes to dance with you.”  Portia maneuvers Peeta’s body, turning him around and pushing him toward the woman standing next to Cinna.  The darkness of the night, in addition to the lack of streetlights, prevents Peeta from clearly seeing her face.  All he can make out is the silhouette of her face, yet the moment their fingers brush against each other, he instantly feels that familiarity…he feels at home.

But Peeta would know her anywhere; at least he thinks it is her.  No, no.  His mind is just playing tricks on him.  Either way, he extends his arm to her, and she accepts graciously just as The Marinera begins to play.

It is their dance.  Katniss and Peeta’s dance from high school.  Peeta circles her once, and then again.  She smiles at him flirtatiously, swinging her hips as she sways to the music.  They tease each other back and forth throughout the night.  It is as if they had spent their entire lives perfecting their moves, as if their bodies are meant to be as one.

The familiarity that overtakes them when Peeta places his hands on Katniss’ hips sends shock waves surging through their bodies.  ‘Why does this feel so familiar?  Why does this feel so right?’  Peeta thinks to himself after their second dance.

They dance the night away with each other, oblivious to the identity of their dance partner.  The chemistry surges through Peeta’s body, and he knows she feels it too.  There is something familiar about this woman, but Peeta cannot quite put his finger on it. It isn’t until the light of the moon casts its glow, causing the pendant on her necklace to shimmer in the moonlight, which is when Peeta freezes.

It can’t be, no, this girl just happens to have the same necklace.  But then he sees the tiny inscription of the word “Always” in elegant script at the base of the pearl.  That is when he knows.

It is her.

His Katniss.

  Part 3 

Turning away from the familiar stranger, Katniss hikes her dress up and runs back to the hotel. She rushes onto the elevator and presses the button for the twelfth story. When the doors open to her floor, she takes off in a sprint again, toward her room, then slams the door behind her once she’s inside.

“Get a grip, Katniss, wake up.  It’s not him. You are just dreaming!”  She yells at herself, lightly banging the back of her head against the door.  ‘How does he know my name?’  she asks herself.

Less than a minute later, there is a knock at the door.  “Katniss? Katniss, are you okay?  Please open the door. I know it’s you.  It’s me, Peeta.  I’m sorry if I scared you; it’s just…can you please open the door so that I can see your face?”

Can it be him?  Is it truly him?  So many times, Katniss thought she saw him, only to be disappointed when it turned out to be someone else.  Her heart cannot take another beating.

With her hand on the door handle, Katniss closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the inevitable.  Slowly, she opens the door just a crack, peeking through the small space.

“Peeta?  Is it…is it really you?”  She asks, slowly nudging the door open.

They stand there with their eyes locked, staring at each other while time stands still.  A loose strand of hair blows in Katniss’s eyes, interrupting their trance.  It is enough to reel her back into the present, and Peeta extends his arm, stroking Katniss’s cheek.

“Katniss,”  Peeta says, staring longingly into her eyes.  He slowly lowers his hand, pinching the tiny pearl hanging from Katniss’s neck.  “You still…I can’t believe you still have it.”

Katniss glances at his left hand that grasps her pearl, and her heart speeds up at the absence of a ring.  Peeta reaches up and places his hands on either side of Katniss’s face, bringing his face closer to inspect that it is really her.

“I never…I never take it off,”  Katniss says, licking her lips.  “Do you want to…come in?”  Katniss asks him.  

Peeta gives her a nod and walks past her and into the room.  Katniss closes the door behind him, and when she turns around to face Peeta, he pulls her close, slamming his lips onto hers.

The kiss is deep, sensual, and passionate, everything they have craved over the years.  Peeta takes Katniss to the bed in the center of the room, removing his jacket and slinging it behind him.

Katniss allows Peeta to take control.  He lays her back against the sheets, then follows after her until he’s, hovering above her.  “My God, I have missed you.”  His voice reverberates between their connected lips.

There is no denying it. It is her.  The only thing that matters is Katniss.  His Katniss.  Right here, right now, she stands in front of him after all this time.  He cannot take it anymore and closes the short distance between them, slamming his lips against hers. Peeta plunges his tongue deep into her mouth, devouring her. Tasting her.  Reveling in her.

The moment their lips connect, they knew they had finally found each other.  And yes, it was definitely worth the wait.

  5 Years Later

“I can’t believe you are getting married in Peru on Halloween!”  Prim squeals, zipping the back of Katniss’ wedding gown up.

“It’s not Halloween in Peru, Prim. It’s Día de la Canción Criolla.  And it’s when Peeta and I found each other again.”

“I know, sissy. I still can’t believe you guys found each other in Peru of all places!  I mean, I don’t remember a whole lot from…from before, but I remember how happy you guys were when we were kids.  And then I remember how sad you were when we had to leave, and…and I’m just so glad you found him!”  Prim says, turning Katniss around and adding the finishing touches to her hair.

“I’m just glad that you, Rory, and the kids were able to come.  Have you seen Peeta?  Is he okay?”

“No, you are not seeing him until the wedding. No exceptions!”  Prim tells Katniss, pointing a sassy finger in her face.

When Peeta catches sight of Katniss walking down the aisle to marry him, in the captivating dress with pearl accents, his heart stops in his chest at how beautiful she is.  When he finally found her after so many years, he thought he had died and was living in his dreams.

He finally found her, and she was now his to love.  Always.

[ironspiidey]

Superhero’s get Bullies Too Part 10

Chapter 1

Chapter 10: Harley Stark & Throat Punching a Bully

Read on AO3

Thats right guys finally a new update!!!!!!

friendly reminder a hoe for likes and comments. They also fuel me :)

“So you and May eh?” Peter says with a smirk as he slides into the backseat of the car.

Happy glances in the rearview mirror. “Me and your Aunt are just friends Peter.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Liar. I know my aunt well enough to know you two are more than just friends Happy.”

Happy tossed Peter his phone before turning out of the apartment parking lot and in the direction of the tower.

“Oh thanks!” Peter unlocks his phone and scrolls through his texts, seeing a bunch from his very concerned boyfriend, which made him smile. “Stop ignoring me.”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“You’re not, not ignoring me either.” Peter looked up from his phone to give the driver a pointed look in the mirror.

Happy shook his head. “Your aunt and I are friends Peter, we may have hung out once or twice.”

“Three times.” Peter says without looking up from his phone, quickly sending a message in his group chat with MJ, Gwen & Ned about how Happy’s picked him up and brought him his phone.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve hung out with her 3 different times. First time was when she went looking for me at the Tower but I was at a decathlon thing, you took her for coffee but only told Mr. Stark you were taking her home.”

“How?”

“How do I know? Well we did some major catching up during pee and snack breaks today when we were watching Greys.”

Happy nods in understanding “Ah okay, She does become easier to talk to when that TV show is involved.”

“Did you two ‘Netflix and Chill’ in my living room?”

The older man remains quite.

“Oh gross.”

Happy chuckles as he puts the partition up, clearly having enough of the redheads 21 questions.

Peter shakes his head and looks down at his phone. He starts deleting old conversations to clean up his inbox and his thumb hovers over Harley’s messages. He opens the conversation and sighs.

H: Hey Pete, not sure when youll see this but yeah. I know your upset with Stark for looking in your phone but he cares about you a lot more then he lets on which I know is hard to believe

 H: my point is trust is huge with him and he’s low key freaking out that he lost you even though im saying he hasn’t bc your too stubborn to give up on his crazy ass. Just maybe cut him some slack when you get here. He means well.

 H: and Im kinda getting used to having you around so yeah.

Peter bites his lip debating on digging out the messages from Flash that he archived a few months ago or deleting them. Knowing that it will send Tony even more over the edge then the superhero already is but at the same time remembering how upset he sounded when he found the one conversation. Peter sighs as he responds to Harley’s messages.

 P: Don’t worry Harley, it’s going to take more than one fight to get rid of me. I know he cares and tell him to stop being a dumbass and that he hasn’t lost me.

Peter sighs again, realizing if things are truly going to work he needs to be as truthful as possible with the older man

 P: and tell him I have something to show him when I get there.

 H: So happys picked you up? How long till your home also will do parker

Peter knocks on the partition.

“Yes Peter?” Happy responds once he brings the glass screen down half way

“How far are we away from the Tower?” Peter asks without looking up, shooting his boyfriend a quick text about how he isn’t mad, that he still loves him and everything will be alright.

“About 20 minutes, traffic seems slow today.”

“Thanks Happy.”

Peter goes back to his conversation with Harley and tells him just that, switching to Tony’s chat as his phone vibrates.

 T: my nephew ratted me out didn’t he?

 P: Or I could be telepathic

 T: without even being near me?

 P: I always said we were meant to be :P

 P: But seriously Tones, you know I love you. I’m not going to run away that easily.

 T: I love you Underoos

 P: Happy says I should be home in 20 minutes, should I order takeout?

The younger man’s phone buzzes, showing Tony’s caller ID

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Actually no.” Tony starts “I have something planned here and no I’m not telling you what it is.”

‘Don’t worry Parker, you’re going to love it!!!’ Peter hears Harley holler in the background

“Another dinner? You really are sucking up.” Peter says with a grin

“What? Cant a man provide a nice dinner for the ones he love.”

“You’re definitely up to something Tony.”

“Always. Harley here go put this on the table. Okay Petey I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Okay Tones, love you.”

“Ditto.”

Peter smiles to himself after disconnecting the call. Happy smirked as he glanced in the rearview mirror. Peter noticed and raised an eyebrow “What?”

“Not a thing.”

"So your Uncle let you come to school Keener?"

Harley gave him a look as he entered the building "What the fuck do you want?"

After the weekend the blonde just had. Finding out just how much of a piece of shit Flash was, Harley’s patience was nonexistent with the other teen.

"I want in."

"In on what?"

"Parker."

Harley's eyes widen "What the fuck do you mean? It’s too fucking early to deal with your dumbass"

"Don't play stupid with me. I know you’re fucking him, and maybe even your uncle is too. I want a fucking piece with or without your help."

"Is that a fucking threat?"

"It's a promise."

"You leave Parker the fuck alone or I'll fucking end you." the blonde teen growled.

"Ah ah ah, what would your uncle say if you got into another fight?"

Harley stepped up into Flash's personal space "He'd fucking congratulate me for putting an end to your disgusting, useless life."

Flash pushed him back. "Gonna kill me are you?"

"C'mon Harley, Flash isn’t worth it. Think about Peter." Harley’s friend, Tommy finally spoke up. Harley didn’t exactly tell Tommy everything but Tommy knew Flash was on some serious thin ice based on some texts between Flash and Parker. Harley had a bad temper on a good day but after whatever happened this past weekend, well Tommy was pretty sure his friend was just a ticking bomb ready to explode.

"Yeah Harley," Flash mocked. “Who would save him if you're stuck in jail being somebodies little bitch."

Harley turned to his friend and laughed manically "Ha, this guy."

"Oh no." Tommy sighed as Harley turned back to the bully and punched him in the throat. So much for a quiet Monday.

Flash fell back grasping at his throat before lunging at the blonde. "You’re going to regret that."

Harley quickly dodged him, sticking his foot out so the brute fell. He flipped him over and grabbed a hold of his collar. "You are going to regret ever fucking with Parker.” Harley spat and he hauled his arm back and started punching him repeatedly

Tommy sighed and leaned against the wall, keeping an eye out for teachers or Flash's boys. They were by the side entrance of the school that nobody uses except the kids smoking but you couldn’t be too careful. Plus the last thing they needed was Parker coming around and seeing this.

After a few punches were thrown Harley let off. He wiped the blood on his knuckles off on Flash’s shirt then got up.

"Know your fucking place Thompson. Ready to go?"

Tommy turned and nodded "Yeah let’s bounce before Parker shows up."

"This isn't fucking over!" Flash sputtered as moved to get up.

Harley turned and spit in front of the other teen. "If you know what's good for you, it'll be over."

"How long do you think we've got till he blabs to someone?"

Harley shrugs "Hopefully till lunch."

As they make their way to the front of the school Tommy’s phone starts buzzing. "What the fuck?"

Harley looked at him puzzled. “What?"

The other boy tilted his screen so that he could see "See for yourself."

"Why is Parker calling you?”

"The better question is how he got my number. Harley!"

The blonde put his hands up “Wasn't me dude. Well answer it!"

Tommy gave him a funny look before answering. "Yo."

 "Hey Tommy? It’s Peter. Peter Parker. "

"Hi Parker."

 "Hi! Is Harley with you?"

"Yep, wanna talk to him?" Harley held his hand out

 "Um no actually I wanted to talk to you. You don't have me on speaker do you?"

Tommy shook his head at his friend, shrugging when Harley gave him a confused look. "Nope."

 "Okay great. Well I just wanted to say it’s my fault he didn’t get to hang out with you this weekend."

"Your fault?" Tommy pushed Harley away when he tried to listen in.

 "Yeah uh well you see." Peter coughed, clearly nervous "Harley got angry at Flash because of me and To- Mr. Stark was not impressed and basically put him on house arrest."

"House arrest?” Tommy glanced at his friend, mouthing 'He's apologizing'

 "Yeah. His uncle didn't trust him."

"I don’t blame him there, Harley's a heathen." he snickered, wincing when Harley punched him in the arm.

 Peter giggled "I'm not sure what he told you so I just wanted to clear things up in case he said something stupid like he had a date or something."

"That would be stupid?"

 "Well duh, he's your best friend and he shouldn't lie to you. Especially not for me. Could you do me a favor?"

"Depends on what it is?"

 "Nothing bad! I just want you to keep an eye on Harley and maybe uh make sure he stays away from Flash. I'm worried he's going to do something stupid and then To- Mr. Stark would lose it and it'll be a giant mess. So if you could do that for me that be great."

Tommy shook his head. "Yeah Parker I can do that but you owe me one alright?"

 "I expect nothing less. See ya Tommy"

"What was that about?” Harley questioned him as the call ended.

“Parker is too smart for his own good. He just called me to ask me to keep an eye on you and keep you away from Flash."

"To keep an eye on me?"

"Yup."

"He's something else. Bet my uncle had something to do with it." Harley pulled out his phone as they entered the building, texting his uncle

 H: did you tell Peter to call Tommy?

"Yeah that’s the other thing!"

Harley looked up from his phone “Other thing?”

“Yeah he kept starting to call your uncle by his first name than correcting himself.”

“Oh.” Harley tried to remain normal but was freaking out inside. If Tommy was to ask any questions about his uncle and Parker, well Harley wasn’t sure how he’d be able to lie to his best friend without him becoming suspicious.

“Yeah like I know he’s his intern and you two are kinda friends and hang out at your place together so I’m sure he doesn’t call him Mr. Stark. There’s no reason to cover it up.”

Harley shrugged “Yeah well maybe he’s trying to hide that we hang out?”

“Why would he call me to say he’s the reason you couldn’t hang this weekend then?”

“He did what? I thought you said he called to make sure you kept an eye on me?”

“Well he did. But first he wanted to make sure I knew that you didn’t chill this weekend because of something to do with Flash bugging him and you and Stark got into it.”

“Why would he bring that up?”

Tommy shrugged. “Somethin about worrying you’d make up some shit story about a date to cover it up. I’m your best friend and you shouldn’t lie to me especially for Parker.”

Harley gave him an unimpressed look.

“What? His words not mine.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious! Then he asked about keeping an eye on you. So see what I mean when it makes no sense?”

Harley was about to respond when his phone buzzed

 Stark: No. Did you do something that would require him to talk to Tommy?

 H: Not even. So you’re telling me you had nothing to do with him getting a hold of Tommys number to call him?

 Stark: You are becoming paranoid nephew  .

 H: That don’t answer my question uncle.

 Stark: *doesn’t. Stark: Get to class I’ll see you after school.

Harley rolled his eyes as he put his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry what?”

“Were you even listening to me?”

Harley sighed. “Yes buttercup. Peter thinks you shouldn’t lie to me, wants you to keep an eye on me and hiding our friendship makes no sense considering he called you about that shit.”

“Someone is moody as fuck today.”

“Sorry man it’s just my uncle.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow “That or Flash hit a nerve.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well I mean dude you have a temper but the last time I seen you beat the shit outta somebody like that over a conversation was when my girlfriend was given a hard time. So unless someone you know is dating Parker, you’re catching feelings.”

Harley scrunched his nose up in disgust. “Fuck no. He’s just my Uncle’s intern man.”

“Since when has your uncle needed you to protect his interns?” Tommy challenged

“Since he started having a nerd the size of a beanpole for an intern.”

Tommy gave him a look as they entered first class.

“Seriously. You’ve seen how skinny he is. If Flash wanted to do some damage it wouldn’t be that hard!”

Tommy nods. Seeing Ned and Liz walk into class, he nudges Harley with his foot. Hoping he’ll get the hint to shut it.

Harley gave him a confused look before seeing Peter’s friends walk in.

“Hey Harley!” Ned stops in front of his desk.

“What’s up Leeds?”

“Was Peter with you this morning?”

“No. Didn’t he have some nerd thing with you at 8?”

Ned nods “Yeah but he didn’t show.”

Harley felt his heart drop into his throat. Peter never missed early periods. The whole point of them was so that a day or two a week he could spend the afternoon at SI. “Did you hear from him?”

Tommy glanced at Harley while trying to act indifferent. Last thing they needed was Ned snooping around if Harley did have a thing for the other teen.

Ned shook his head. “He texted me around half 7 saying he’d be there but he didn’t show.”

Harley looked confused. “Well I’m sure everything’s fine. Maybe something came up with SI.”

“I don’t think so. He’s only supposed to be an active intern outside of school hours.”

Harley shrugs “You’re just a worry wart Leeds.”

Liz nodded “See me and MJ told you everything was probably fine. Go sit down mother hen.” She pushed him in the direction of where they usually sat.

“Do us all a favor though and text your uncle. I really don’t feel like listening to Ned worry all damn day.” She whispered as she passed both boys.

After they were out of ear shot Tommy leaned forward. “Well we heard from him like 20 minutes ago so everything should be fine right?”

“Clearly Flash didn’t have anything to do with whatever’s going on.”

“You should get ahold of Stark. Leeds will probably try calling his aunt if we don’t find out what’s up.”

Harley shuddered at the thought. His uncle was scary but Peter’s aunt? She was a damn nightmare when it came to her nephew. “Shit your right. I got no interest in dealing with the wrath that is May Parker.”

Harley quickly takes his phone out and sends his uncle another text.

 H: Hey is Peter with you?

He frowns when immediately his phone rings showing Tony’s contact. “Shit.” He muttered under his breath. “He’s fucking calling me.”

Tommy looked at him in alarm “Who Peter?”

“No. Stark!” He whispered harshly as he got up quickly heading outside.

“Hello?” Harley answered once he was outside of the room.

“Why are you asking about Peter?”

“Because-”

 Tony cut him off “Why aren’t you in your English class?”

“Well I was in fucking English before Peter’s friends started asking me where the fuck he was!”

“Language nephew. Why are they asking you where he is?”

“Apparently I’ve become his fucking keeper or something. All I know is he didn’t show for that thing for early period and Ned is being a mother hen.”

“Clearly I need to wash your mouth out with soap. Peter didn’t show to Decathlon practice? Hmm.”

Harley could hear some rustling in the background which concerned him mildly. If he uncle didn’t know he was there how the hell was anyone else going to? “Uncle?”

“One second.”

The rustling continued for a beat before Tony spoke.

“Friday, Can you pinpoint Peter’s location?” Tony spoke before the line went silent for roughly 30 seconds.

“Thanks babygirl. Okay so everything is perfectly fine. I think he plans to reach out to his friends. He’ll be there soon.”

“Well what even happened?” Harley questioned. Then the second warning bell rang.

“Get to class.”

“But-” Harley was interrupted by a dial tone. He sighed as he pocketed his phone. Peter was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

[theharlequinwriter]

Guided Arrow ..........part 1

Summary : Being Thea’s twin sister and also part of team arrow when you wake up in the another universe alone and no way home.

warnings : Swear words and PTSD 

word count : 2,402

Before I knew it Barry was reaching for my hand and we were falling down a building and then  well I don’t really know all I saw was white and when I woke up I was one the side of the road soaking wet and clearly not in star city anymore.

‘’Ollie!!......Speedy......BARRY!!!!.’’

No one answered.

‘’what the fuck happened?’’

Pulling my hood back I put my mask in my pocket and threw my bow over my back and started to walk sticking my thumb out every other foot. Finally reaching a nearby diner I asked for a booth and a cup of coffee while I pulled out all my gadgets trying to find Felicity’s or Barry's voice trying to find me.

‘’you look like you’re lost’’

Darting my head up I saw a man with blue eyes, black hair and oddly a trench coat.

‘’you can say I am in a way.’’

I winked at him as his very handsome friends walked over.

‘’Cas what the hell are you doing?’’

‘’Talking to miss.... I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.’’

‘’y/n Queen’’

‘Names Sam and Dean Winchester’’

The taller one with the long hair stuck out his hand towards me, grabbing his hand I could feel the caclus on his palm from oddly enough....a gun.

‘’So, Cas said you’re lost?’’

Dean asked as he shuffled into my booth.... uninvited.

‘’Yeah, I guess, the last thing I remember is reaching for flash.......my friends hand as I fell then everything went black. I woke up on the side of the road and made my way here.’’

‘’Well we can help you find your way back if you like.’

‘’YES, thank you.’’

Walking outside dean helped me into the car and we were off to their house or what they called their bunker. Once inside i made my way to their version of the quiver. Setting my arrows and hood on the couch began to scan their place. Clearly they really are brothers, not sure on Cas thou.. Possibly dean's boyfriend? not by the way dean watched my ass get into the car. Walking around I found their library full of supernatural information.

‘Where were you guys when darhk was around?’’

Dean came into the room with 4 beers. Handing one to me as Sam sat down and opened his laptop.

‘’So, let's start with your hometown or where you were last.’’

‘’Star city.’’

I watched as Sam typed it into his keyboard and his eyes going wide.

‘’uhm y/n that city doesn’t exist at least not that google knows.’’

‘'w-W-W WHAT DO YOU MEAN DOESN’T EXSIT I WAS JUST THERE!!!’’

‘’Google says nothing found for a Star city.’’

‘’MY WHOLE LIFE IS THERE, MY BROTHER, MY TWIN SISTER, MY NEPHEW! MY BESTFRIENDS MY FAMILY GOD DAMN IT!!!’’

I threw the beer onto the floor.  

‘’’listen y/n lets google your family maybe they will come up, you did say your sister in law was a hacker maybe she's hiding the results.’’

‘Okay my Sibling are Oliver and Thea Queen, my best friend is Iris West Allen, Her husband is Barry Allen.’’

Dean looked up at me  

‘’You're Brother and best friend are named after comic books?’’

‘NO?’’

Sam ran to the other room carrying back a few plastic covered comic books with the titles. GREEN ARROW and the other THE FLASH. I felt my head going dizzy and everything went black. When i came too I was lying on a couch, I could hear Sam and dean talking.

‘’Maybe she escaped the looney bin.’’

‘’maybe she hit her head harder than she thought.’’

‘’OR THE HOT CHICK IS CRAZY!’’

I made a coughing noise as I walked into the room.

‘Come sit, I'm going to blow your minds.’

We all headed in the war room and sat down.

‘’So, my name is Y/n Queen, my brother is Oliver Queen and Yes he is the Green Arrow, My sister and I are quickdraw and speedy. My Best friend is the wife of the flash, we discovered other worlds or dimensions a long time ago. I'm guessing that’s where I am in a world where I'm nothing more than words on a page.’’

Both Winchesters sat there with their mouths gaping.

‘’So, you're like a real super hero?’’

‘’I guess so, Ollie more is than me, I'm just backup.’’

‘And how did you get here?’’

‘Cisco must have breached me right as I grabbed Barry sending me flying through a breach, although this would be a far new distance for him....I'm happy i made it.’’

‘’Breach?’’

‘’’Rips or portals into other worlds.’’

‘’I need some air.’’

Dean stepped out of the room leaving me, Sam and Cas alone.

‘So, are their angels in your world?’

‘’not that im aware of cas , We have the league of shadows . My brother married their leader, We do have magic buts its really bad.’’

‘’Magics bad here too but more of like hocus pocus and hexes.’’

‘’so, no vigilantes?’’

‘’Not that I know of, I mean we are hunters if that counts.’’

‘’it’ll do.’’  

Sam smiled as dean walked into the room.

‘’can i shoot an arrow?’’

‘’Sure dean.’’

We went outside where I let dean have 2 arrows to shoot, he missed both times. Taking my aim, I shot to perfect straight into the apple Sam had placed on the car.

‘’How did you learn to do that?’’

‘’My brother, after slade …. I mean Death Stroke killed my mom, Ollie never wanted me and Thea to be unsafe again and after i busted him on being arrow and dig being spartan....Sorry Dig is my brothers right hand man. He welcomed me to the team as quickdraw due to the fact im a quick shot.’’

‘’wow.... you been through it.’’

‘’ oh, I got stories that would make your mind implode. Ive met a alien well a kryptonian .’’

‘’YOU FUCKIN MET SUPERMAN!!!!’

Dean was shouting now

‘’Well yeah but I meant his cousin Supergirl, she like my pen pal.’’

‘’ So I guess you're staying here till you can get home.’’

‘Thank you, Sam.,’’

Later that night  

Laying here in this strange bed in a whole other world completely alone.... alone, the one thing I fear was to be alone. I got up and headed for the library at least it has a good book maybe they will have a new series I can love. Stepping into the library I found Sam researching through a bunch of lore.

‘’Is he real?’’

Sam pointed at a comic with a man named Spiderman.

‘’maybe but not in my world or at least hasn’t made himself known.’’

He nodded to the chair next to him. Sliding into it he handed me a piece of candy.

‘’can't sleep?’’

‘’no im on earth 1 time’’

‘Earth 1?’

‘Well since I knew that one first that’s earth 1 , Supergirl is from earth 3 and I making this earth 4.’’

‘’thanks?’’

‘’So What do you like to do for fun here?’’

‘'Don’t really have time , the hunt never stops , I've actually been to hell , met lucifer and god oh and I Lost my soul and met Gods sister and died a thousand times , so has Dean and Cas.’

I could see the pain welling in his eyes, he was tired.

‘’Sounds likes my brother hehe Hes been through it for 5 years I thought he was dead and then poof he wasn’t, but he wasn’t ollie. He had scars and tattoo, spoke Russian and was very odd. He ended up letting his anger go and now we are happy again even for a moment, But your right lives like ours it only ends in death.’’

Sam laughed as he handed me a beer from the mini frige.

‘’Thats why we gotta go down swinging.’’

‘’Cheers to that.’

Tinking the beers together we continued to exchanged stories and advice. Sam made me feel safe like my life wasn't guns and masks and his wasn’t demons and vampires.

‘’Hi sam , Whose this.... she isnt from here.’’

I screamed as a young man with blonde air appeared out of nowhere.

‘’ y/ n this is jack.....lucifer's son.’’

‘’HOLY SHIT....i mean hi, im sorry im not used to people appearing like that unless they plan to kill me.’’

‘’I think its my fault you’re here.’'

‘’Jack what do you mean its your fault?’’

Before he answered he was gone.

‘’he does this when he is upset and feels guilty, he runs.’’

‘’poor guy.’’

‘Well he is only 5 months old.’’

‘’yeah well …..wait what?’’

‘’he aged in order to survive.’’

‘’oh...so are you completely human?’’

‘’yeah I mgiht be missing a bit of my soul here and there.’’

Sam smiled at his own remark, we headed into the library to research anything on other worlds. 3 hours and 5 cups of coffee each later neither Sam or I found anything besides that I may be stuck here forever. Sam already promised I have a home with them here and I will never be alone as long as hes around. I couldn’t help but notice how warm and safe I feel around him.  

I woke up to the feeling of someone breathing, as I opened my eyes I  found myself on sams chest cluctching a book on demi gods while sam had one arm wrapped around me and they other on a book on greek gods. We must of fallen asleep on the couch studying , he looks so happy when hes asleep like he isnt living a hard life everyday. Before I could take in anymore of the moment dean came busting into the room causing sam to jump shoving me to the floor.

‘Jacks back’

We all ran to the den where jack sat on the couch clutching his head in his hands. I walked over placing my hand on his shoulder.

‘are you okay?’’

‘im sorry’’

‘’for what....bringing me here. Ive been through worse trust me.’

He looked at me with his bloodshot eyes and buried his head into my chest hugging me tightly. He was still sobbing but at least now he knew I didn’t blame him.

‘so nothing from jack yet?’’

It has been almost 3 weeks since I arrived here , Cas has been working with jack to see if maybe he can re open the rip to send me home. I offered to ask barry and iris to help jack understand himself better, run some test and see what he can and cant handle. Then there's sam , we have gotten really close since I arrived late night studying and him teaching me how to put up warding's and devils traps. I even promised him id get the anti-possession tattoo once im home. Sitting in the den reading the local paper scanning for any sign of supernatural creatures.

‘hey y’n’’

Sam came into the room handing me a cup of coffee and sitting next to me , smiling at me god I love it when he smiles. Snapping out of my  trance I had to nod and try to catch up.

‘so jack thinks if we can find a dream walker we can send you home.’

‘’where do we find one of these dream walkers’’

‘’well that’s the thing we only knew one and shes dead but jack thinks he has a lead on another in ohio, him and dean went to check it out . Cas heard of one in California so he went out that way , that just leaves us.’’

Falling into the chair in the library I picked up a comic with the title green arrow looking at the way they drew my brother.

‘’ollie doesn’t have a beard ‘’

Sam chuckled.

‘’what?’’

‘’just how you call him ollie makes him seem like he isnt in a comic book in our world.’’

‘’this should be so odd to you I mean look what I found.’’

I held up a anime comic named supernatural starring sam and dean.

‘'that was written by god , not by a geek in a basement.’’

‘’ so whats sam / dean?’’

‘’how did you hear about that?’’

‘’im a vigilante , if I want info I get it.’’

‘’its nothing , its gross.’’

‘’so am I in one of these books or do I not matter?’’

‘’they stopped being made after dean went to hell , cas is isnt in them either..... but you matter to me ‘

Looking up sam was starring at me with a small smirk on his lips. Shaking his head I could see him searching the room in a painc.

‘’you said something about food and a movie?’

‘uhh yea set up in the tv room I got burgers and venom’’

About halfway into the movie sam got up to leave the room, wondering what was up I decide to follow him into the kitchen , sam was pacing the room on the phone.

‘’what do you mean she was a phony? , y/n is going to be heart broken.’’

‘’yeah I know dean but I do care for her ...of course id love to be with her........dean she has a family and a life....we weren't ever supposed to meet.’’

He hung up his phone turning towards me.

‘’y/n......uhm’’

Without thought I moved forward crashing my lps into his pulling him closer by is plaid collar , his fands found my hips lifting me onto my tip toes pulling me into him. Taking a step back I looked up at him feeling the blood rush to my face when dean came rushing in.

‘hey robin hood we might need your help.’’

Climbing into the impala we drove to a empty house where three bodies laid on the porch and woman with short hair came forward extending her hand.

‘’names Jody , dean here tells me your one of us.’’

Nodding I looked at dean.

‘why do you need me here?’’

‘’because this guy here says hes from star city’’

Stepping into the door, a man with his hands and feet tied laid on the floor with a bag on his head, reaching out i lifted the bag to revel cold dead eyes and a buzz cut along with the smile of the devil and his body covered in tattoos.

‘’d-d—d—d-d- dia'’

‘’hello y/n , Miss me baby doll ?’’

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Twenty-second Christmas

the series is as follows so far:

First … Second … Third … Fourth … Fifth … Fifth Christmas, Part 2 … Sixth … Seventh … Eighth … Ninth … Tenth … Eleventh … Twelfth … Thirteenth … Fourteenth … Fifteenth … Sixteenth … Seventeenth … Eighteenth … Nineteenth … Twentieth … Twenty-first … Twenty-second … Twenty-third

———————–

I have to mess with the timeline again but I need another Christmas in here before Maggie dies so I’m putting one in and shifting the rest of the timeline … sue me … 8^)

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Maggie had lay down the law with his previous year’s Christmas gift. It was a smartphone, a simple one, one without a camera on it, one attached to her cell plan, one that she insisted he keep on now because she was getting old and if she fell, he would be the first one she’d call and he needed to be reachable at all times.

He tried to argue but she shut him down, good-naturedly and with mother’s love abounding but still, she told him to be quiet and do as he was told. He’d fought her but she was more stubborn than her daughter had ever been and much scarier so he relented, taking her at her word that she’d be calling him at random times just to check that it was on.

It didn’t annoy him.

It made his heart beat a little faster, however, at the prospect of something on in his house at all times that wasn’t ‘firewall-paranoid-Frohike would be proud, technologically protected from everyone in the world who was not him or Scully or Maggie’. He did, once he got home, stare at it for a long while, power it down, felt the crushing guilt of having turned it off, turned it back on, plugged it in in his office, shut the door, went to bed, returned five minutes later to retrieve it because he had sudden visions of Maggie falling down the stairs, Maggie burning the house down, Maggie getting in an accident, Maggie showing up to read him the riot act for having turned it off in the first place.

It took until the next morning for him to use it to call her with one simple response to the whole situation, “why wouldn’t you just call Scully? She’s closer and can sign forms and stuff and won’t need to wait for a cab to get to you.”

Maggie honestly had no idea it would take him this long to figure that out and she laughed, “just leave it on, Fox, for me.”

He did.

Now he called her like a normal human being, she called him and somehow, Scully began calling him … not often but at least once or twice a week, sometimes just to see if she had any mail there or if he was doing okay or if he needed anything …

Scully’s standard mode of caring when she wasn’t sure if she could handle admitting she cared.

He accepted the erratic thud of his heart when he saw her name flash on the caller ID and the second thud as he hit the accept button. It returned to its normal beat two minutes later when she deemed the conversation over, having satisfied some nameless need buried deep inside for another few days.

He accepted this, too.

&&&&&&&&&&&

They hadn’t eaten a meal together in nearly two years but Maggie had called about a dripping pipe and Mulder had come, even though it was a Wednesday and Scully had dropped by unannounced because it was Wednesday and not Tuesday and the moment she saw him, soaking shirt with a wrench in his hand and he saw her in a messy ponytail, keys dangling from the Apollo keychain held precariously in her teeth while she tried not to drop her purse and what looked like Maggie’s mail, her mother/his adopted mother felt a spark in the air, a flutter in the ozone, a blip on the radar and breathed a sigh of relief because, regardless of what may have happened between them in the last 24 months, the magic was still there, sleeping but stirring awake once again and palpable in her freezing living room.

“Dear, would you shut the door, please? Fox is going to freeze solid and I don’t think he’ll enjoy that.”

Scully quickly gathered her senses, dropping keys and mail, shutting door, opening door again to retrieve dropped keys before finally standing up, blowing stray hair from her eyes with a sudden puff upwards, “sorry. I just … wasn’t … sorry.”

Maggie nearly giggled but managed to contain her glee at her two people finally in a room once again, “it’s fine. Come on in. We were just about to have some dinner. Fox came over to fix a pipe that was dripping.” Twisting her hands gently, “old things don’t grip quite as well as they used to.”

Mulder scrambled out of the way, “yeah, sorry. Come on in. I’ll head out in a minute, just need to find a dry shirt.”

“Fox, I promised you dinner and you are staying. I’ve made your favorite so you don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

Shrugging but smiling, he looked at Scully, “she really enjoys ordering me around.”

Returning the smile before quickly looking away, “she does it out of love.”

“She must adore me something fierce then.”

Tentatively touching his arm as she passed, “she does.”

Dinner itself wasn’t as awkward as it could have been but there were definitely moments, moments of dead air that pressed down, compressing the spine and shoulders, back hunching involuntarily under the weight of the silence. Scully excused herself to the bathroom in one moment … Mulder to blow his nose in another … both stood in unison for the third to bolt then both smiled shyly for a moment before turning their looks to a Maggie simply shaking her head, “we need some dessert and music. Dana, go find a decent station on the radio for me, please.”

All in all, it was a happy night, all three parties going to bed at ease with the world.

&&&&&&&&&&

Maggie had her normal, raucous Christmas with the family, sans Charlie and Bill but with enough grandchildren and grand nieces and nephews to fill her house to cacophonous capacity. She had invited Mulder but he was nowhere near ready for that and politely declined, telling Maggie he’d be around on the 27th with her gift and to help her clean behind the oven and refrigerator. Instead, he settled with an orange cat on his lap, a bag of Cheezits so if some got on the animal, he’d never know and six bottles of ice tea and root beer.

Nearly asleep, with the cat ninja-like attempting to steal snacks from the open box, he startled awake at the sound of a quiet knock on the front door. Jerking upwards, the cat, the crackers and two empties clattered to the floor, the yowling cat jumping immediately to the coffee table to give Mulder a piece of her mind at the disturbance.

He ignored the cat, optioning to panic at the midnight rapping at his entryway. Peering cautiously through the front curtain, he saw Scully’s car and pulled the door open immediately, “what’s wrong? What happened? Is Maggie okay?”

His intruding presence, inches from her, panic look on his face made her smile, arms automatically going to his chest, pushing him back slightly into the house and out of the freezing wind, “we’re all fine, Mulder, I promise.”

Next he pulled her further in, shutting the door, softest touch of coiled steel to her forearms, “are you sure?”

“Yes, honest, I swear to you. She’s fine. I’m fine. Everyone’s fine. I left there about a half-hour ago and everybody was just going to bed.” Still bundled in her coat and knit rainbow stocking cap with the tassles on top, her pink cheeks peeking through her matching rainbow scarf, “I just wanted to come wish you a Merry Christmas.”

Studying her for another second, he deemed her honest and let out a sigh, “you scared me.”

“I’m sorry. Truly. I didn’t think. I should have called to warn you.” He saw the doubt at her side excursion creeping into her eyes, which began darting around the room, then angling towards her escape, “I can go though. Sorry … sorry again.”

Finally smiling in her direction, “get in here. I need help drinking my root beer.”

Raised eyebrow met crinkling forehead, “root beer?”

“No liquor for me anymore. Interferes with the meds.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he nodded over his shoulder, “me and Flab share us some of that fine New England root beer every so often. Keeps us young.”

Hearing her name, the cat jumped from table to couch to end table to chair back to Mulder shoulder in silence, perching as if she were queen of the kingdom and Mulder was her throne. Scully laughed, “Flab?”

He scratched the cat’s chin, “Flab.” Finally remembering the rest of his manners, “shit, sorry. Would you like to stay?”

Great debates raced through her mind, even as she was shrugging out of her coat, stuffing scarf and hat into her sleeve, “for a little bit.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Twenty minutes later, they were settled on the couch, Scully on one end, Mulder on the other, Flab stretched to maximum capacity in the middle, head pressed against his thigh and feet pushed against hers. The TV was on but mute and making the darkened room glow blue, “so, don’t hit me for this but I can’t ask your mom and I’ve been wondering for awhile now … what the hell happened with Charlie?”

Scully could only shrug, picking at the label of the bottle in her hand, “nobody really knows. Mom won’t tell me, Bill talks to him occasionally and can’t get anything out of him, Sarah, while she loves us and is around all the time, we’ve stopped asking because it just makes her cry and that bothers the kids and so … we just … ignore it, I guess. The kids bring him up sometimes and we all are fine with that but usually it’s just to say what they used to do with him or something he would have liked.” Turning her head and resting it on the couch, “I hate to say it but it’s like he’s died and we’ve moved on but he’s still alive and we don’t know how to move on.”

Moving his hand to touch her automatically, he discovered his reality a moment too late and instead of hanging there like an idiot, he nonchalantly dropped his hand to pet Flab instead.

Scully was not an idiot and knew what his hand movement had been about though she couldn’t fault him since her body anticipated the touch, craved it and standing up, she turned, then sat on the table, knees touching his, bottle still in hand, although not for long. Setting it down beside her, she let her fingers float over his denim, loose fitting cotton over hard thigh. She didn’t move any further up than just past his knee but it felt warm and comfortable and right.

“Scully?”

“Nothing’s going to happen, Mulder. I know it can’t but I haven’t touched you in centuries.”

His hand drifted to cover hers, digits between digits slipping in divots and dips. Fingerprints circle knuckles, palms against backs as his thumbs finally settle softly against wrists, “I miss you everyday, Scully. Every hour, every minute, every second, every millisecond and whatever the hell comes after that.”

She couldn’t begin to echo the sentiment, even come close to how much she missed him. Needing to break eye contact with him before she came apart completely, she looked around the room, letting the emotions settle, “not decorating this year, I take it?”

Beginning small circles on the softest skin known to man, he felt the delicate tendons under her skin, the underside of her wrist his sole dream in that moment, “I haven’t decorated since you left. I didn’t see any point to it. Have you decorated?”

Truth bubbled up, threatened to pour forth in a torrent of painful, hurtful words but a quick intake of air shored up the dam, “no. Haven’t been in a Christmas mood the last few years. I do well at Mom’s but I go home and I don’t want that there.”

“You don’t want what there?”

Shit, she couldn’t stop it now, “I don’t want that sense of permanence, the notion that I’m going to be there long enough to have to go out and get more decorations, pack things up and put them within easy reach for the next year. I’m not ready for that. I want a place that is mine but I’m not ready to call it my home yet. Decorations are for a home, Mulder, not a stale apartment in the city.” Tears pricked her eyes but always the expert at pushing through them, she blinked rapidly, although not fast enough to hide them completely, “I will someday but not yet.”

Checking the clock and seeing they still had about a half-hour, he squeezed her wrists lightly, “what do you think about decorating now? We could put up all our regular stuff and make this place look like it used to.”

Suddenly, she missed him so much her chest ached, a stabbing pain across her breastbone reminding her she did indeed have a heart, still broken but very much there. Fighting the logic racing through her brain, she nodded, “I’d like that.”

&&&&&&&&

Slipping into old habits instinctively, Scully set up the tree while Mulder hung stockings and garland. Both quietly placed ornaments until Scully came across the one her mother had made him. With a smile, “I knew she made you one, too! She didn’t answer me when I asked but she had that ‘I’ve got a secret’ look on her face.”

“What color is yours?”

“Red, white lettering.”

He scooted just a little closer, brushing shoulders with her, “you should have bought yours with you. We could have added it to the collection.”

“Maybe next time I come by.”

Mulder wanted to smile at the prospect of her coming by again but he couldn’t look forward to it, knowing disappointment would set him on edge so he chose to continue staring at the tree, feeling her warmth, her energy, the life he had once and would give almost anything to have again.

Scully felt it, too and nudging his hand with hers, no commitment, no expectation, just touch, “you got any hot chocolate around this place?”

“I think I got some on my last shopping trip. Flab likes to drink it with me on our Saturday dates.”

Following him to the kitchen, “you have a standing date with your cat on Saturday nights?”

He knew she wasn’t judging so he told her over his shoulder as he rummaged through cupboards, “yeah. We have tuna salad, carrots, biscuits and hot chocolate or steak, baked potatoes, spinach and hot chocolate. We eat on the couch and she gets to share and then she gets to lick my mug when I’m finished. After that comes brushing and then she falls asleep while I watch bad sci-fi.”

Deciding the past wasn’t as forbidden as she thought it was when she knocked on the door, “that sounds surprisingly like our Saturday date nights used to be as well.”

With a glance at her hair, “speaking of brushing, what happened to your hair? I mean, it looks good but it’s not the right color suddenly. I noticed earlier but forgot to ask.”

Self-consciously touching the strands against her shoulder, “yeah, so I was at the hospital and Methylene blue sprayed on me and dyed my hair a lovely shade of splatter-pattern Cobalt and it wouldn’t wash out so I had to bleach my whole head and then the woman who went to dye it back to my regular color did something and it came out like this. It’s paler than it used to be but I’m getting used to it.”

Reaching out to feel it, “are we mentioning the straw feeling?”

With a smile, she batted his hand away, “we are not and I was also informed that if I try to color it again in the next six months, it’ll all fall out of my head so I’m living uncomfortably with it until further notice.”

“Good to know.” As he pulled the hot mugs from the microwave, he handed her one, “I’m liking it, if that’s any consolation but I gotta say, I would have liked to have seen you as a blonde again. It’s been awhile.”

“Well, next time someone tries to turn me into a Smurf and I have to bleach, I’ll be sure to call you.”

Grinning, he nodded, “I’ll be waiting.”

Mugs in hand, they headed back to the couch, where they proceeded to sit until well after 3am, when half-asleep on his end of the couch, he suddenly remembered, “shit! Aren’t you due back at Maggie’s in two hours?”

Scully, more than half asleep on the other end, grunted quietly, “then I’ve got an hour and a half to sleep. Be quiet.”

Flab, happy to snuggle on the lap of the strange lady invading her home for the evening, stretched, kneaded, wiggled and purred her way to sleep, notifying the stranger, in no uncertain terms, she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“I don’t think the cat was going to let you leave anyways.”

“My kind of cat. G’night, Mulder.”

“G’night, Scully.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

Baffled as to how she got out of the house without disturbing him, he awoke to Flab on his lap, the Christmas tree lights still on and a new ornament on the tree.

Well, new to the tree but matching the one Maggie gave him the previous year. She’d smuggled hers over, sneaking it onto the tree before disappearing to her Christmas morning chaos. Picking up his puddle of cat, he held her, showing her Scully’s ornament, “that’s your mom’s. She’ll be back someday I hope but for now, I think we should decide to have truly enjoyed last night then move on to breakfast. What do you say … eggs? Pancakes? Tuna?”

The cat simply purred, licking his hand for a moment before going back to sleep.

He kissed the top of her head, “Merry Christmas, animal.”

“Mmmrrrorr.”

[dazzledbybooks]

White Stag, the first book in a brutally stunning series by Kara Barbieri, involves a young girl who finds herself becoming more monster than human and must uncover dangerous truths about who she is and the place that has become her home. As the last child in a family of daughters, seventeen-year-old Janneke was raised to be the male heir. While her sisters were becoming wives and mothers, she was taught to hunt, track, and fight. On the day her village was burned to the ground, Janneke—as the only survivor—was taken captive by the malicious Lydian and eventually sent to work for his nephew Soren. Janneke’s survival in the court of merciless monsters has come at the cost of her connection to the human world. And when the Goblin King’s death ignites an ancient hunt for the next king, Soren senses an opportunity for her to finally fully accept the ways of the brutal Permafrost. But every action he takes to bring her deeper into his world only shows him that a little humanity isn’t bad—especially when it comes to those you care about. Through every battle they survive, Janneke’s loyalty to Soren deepens. After dangerous truths are revealed, Janneke must choose between holding on or letting go of her last connections to a world she no longer belongs to. She must make the right choice to save the only thing keeping both worlds from crumbling. White Stag By Kara Barbieri Published by Wednesday Books On Sale January 8, 2019 Hardcover | $18.99 ISBN: 9781250149589| Ebook ISBN: 9781250149596 From The Press: In an exciting collaboration with Wattpad, an online community for readers and writers to publish and enjoy each other’s work, Wednesday Books will be publishing WHITE STAG (Wednesday Books; January 8, 2019) by Kara Barbieri. Based in a dark and violent world, Janneke’s journey in the Permafrost is addicting and immersive. This expansive fantasy already has a strong online following. Thousands of fans immediately jumped on board when Barbieri first posted her story to Wattpad. Using their own Story DNA, Wattpad was able to see that readers were spending more time reading WHITE STAG than any of their other top fantasy works. Today, the story has over one million reads with Wednesday Books publishing a revised and expanded version in print. As the last child in a family of daughters, seventeen-year-old Janneke was raised to be the male heir. While her sisters were becoming wives and mothers, she was taught to hunt, track, and fight. On the day her village is burned to the ground, Janneke—as the only survivor—is taken captive by the malicious goblin Lydian and eventually sent to work for his nephew Soren. Janneke’s survival in the court of merciless monsters has come at the cost of her connection to the human world. And when the Goblin King’s death ignites an ancient hunt for the next king, Soren senses an opportunity for her to finally fully accept the ways of the brutal Permafrost. But every action he takes to bring her deeper into his world only shows him that a little humanity isn’t bad—especially when it comes to those you care about. Through every battle they survive, Janneke’s loyalty to Soren deepens even as she tries to fight her growing attraction to him. After dangerous truths are revealed, Janneke must choose between holding on or letting go of her last connections to a world she no longer belongs to. She must make the right choice to save the only thing keeping both worlds from crumbling. Based in a wintery world with a frosty cover, it’s the perfect book to get into for the coming winter season. As the launch of a captivating new series, WHITE STAG is all a reader could want in a fantasy—brave characters, vivid worlds, and smoldering romance. Barbieri says, “[Janneke’s] journey of forgiving herself, letting go, and finding strength inside her own self and her own scars mirrors mine.”  Her characters struggle with issues that are close to her own heart making the reader connect with the characters in unexpected ways.  "Janneke’s epic journey to overcome past horrors and seize her rightful place in the world is packed with equally gripping action and emotion. Readers will flock to this compelling debut." —Booklist, STARRED Review "A promising debut from a gifted young writer!" —Anna Todd, New York Times bestselling author of the After series Excerpt: WHITE STAG EXCERPT  1 MASQUERADE THE FIRST THING I learned as a hunter was how to hide. There was a skill in disappearing in the trees like the wind and merging into the river like stones; masquerading yourself as something you weren’t was what kept you alive in the end. Most humans didn’t think the masquerade was as important as the kill, and most humans ended up paying for it with their lifeblood. Here, as the only mortal in a hall of monsters, I was very glad that I was not most humans. I kept my steps silent and my back straight as I passed beneath the white marble pillars. My eyes flickered around me every so often, counting hallways, retracing my steps, so I could escape at a moment’s notice. The Erlking’s palace was treacherous, full of twists and turns, stairways that led into nowhere, and places where the hallways dropped to gaping chasms. According to Soren, there were also hollow spaces in the walls where you could slink around unnoticed to the mundane and the monstrous eye, but you could hear and see all that went on in the open world. The lair of a king, I thought bitterly. I dared not say it out loud in case someone was near. But beside me, Soren sensed my disgust and made a sound deep in his throat. It could’ve been agreement. Soren examined his king’s palace with the usual contempt; his cold, calculating eyes took in everything and betrayed nothing. His lips turned down in a frown that was almost etched permanently into his face. Sometimes I forgot he was capable of other expressions. He didn’t even smile when he was killing things; as far as goblins went, that was a symptom of chronic depression. He lifted his bored gaze at the gurgling, choking sound coming from his right, and it took all my willpower not to follow his line of sight. When I felt the subtle whoosh of power transfer from one body to the next, my fingers twitched to where I’d slung my bow, only to remember too late that it had been left at the entrance of the keep in accordance with ancient tradition. A scream echoed off the cavernous passageways as we made our way to the great hall where everyone gathered. It sent chills down my spine with its shrillness before it was abruptly cut off. Somehow, that made me shiver even more. Ancient tradition and custom aside, nothing could stop a goblin from killing you if that was what they desired. My hand reached for my nonexistent bow again, only to be captured by cold, pale fingers. Soren’s upper lip curled, but his voice was low and steady. “The next time you reach for a weapon that isn’t there might be the last time you have hands to reach with,” he warned. “A move like that will invite conflict.” I yanked myself away from his grip and suppressed the urge to wipe my hand on my tunic like a child wiping away cooties. “Force of habit.” Soren shook his head slightly before continuing on, his frown deepening with each step he took. “Don’t look so excited. Someone might get the wrong idea.” He raised a fine white eyebrow at me. “I don’t look excited. I’m scowling.” I bit back a sigh. “It’s sarcasm.” “I’ve told you before, I don’t understand it,” he said. “None of goblinkind understands sarcasm,” I said. “In another hundred years I’m going to lose my understanding completely.” Another hundred years. It hadn’t hit me yet, not until I said it out loud. Another hundred years. It had been a hundred years since my village was slaughtered, a hundred years as a thrall in Soren’s service. Well, ninety-nine years and eight months, anyway, but who’s counting? Despite the century passing by, I still looked the same as I had when I was forcefully brought into this cursed land. Or, at least, mostly; the scars on my chest hadn’t been there a hundred years ago, and the now-hollow spot where my right breast should have been burned. The four months when I’d belonged to another were not something I liked to think about. I still woke up screaming from nightmares about it. My throat went dry and I swallowed. Soren isn’t Lydian. “You look tense,” Soren said, breaking me out of my thoughts. I’d crossed my arms over my chest. Not good. A movement like that was a sign of weakness. It was obvious to everyone that I was the weakest being here, but showing it would do me no good. “I’m fine,” I said. “I just don’t like this place.” “Hmm,” Soren said, eyes flickering around the hall. “It does lack a certain touch.” “What does that even mean?” I asked. “The entire design of the palace is trite and overdone.” I blinked. “Okay, then.” By now we’d entered the great hall where the reception was held. Every hundred years, the goblins were required to visit the Erlking and swear their fealty. Of course, their loyalty only extended to him as long as he was the most powerful—goblins weren’t the type of creature to follow someone weaker than themselves. The palace, for what it was worth, was much grander than most other parts of the goblin domain. Soren’s manor was all wood, stone, and ice, permanently freezing. Nothing grew—I knew because I had tried multiple times to start a garden—but the roots never took to the Permafrost. Here, it was warm, though not warm enough that I couldn’t feel the aching chill deep in my bones. The walls were made of pure white marble with intricate designs far above what a goblin was capable of creating, and streaked with yellow and red gold like open veins. It was obviously made by humans. Goblinkind were incredible predators and hunters, gifted by the Permafrost itself, but like all creatures, they had their flaws. The inability to create anything that wasn’t used for destruction was one of the main reasons humankind were often stolen from their lands on raids and put to work in the Permafrost. Soren’s scowl deepened as we passed under a canopy of ice wrought to look like vines and flowers. “I feel like I need to vomit,” he said. I stopped in my tracks. “Really?” I swore, if I ended up having to clean up Soren’s vomit … He glanced at me, a playful light in his lilac eyes. “Sarcasm? Did I do it right?” “No.” I forced myself not to roll my eyes. “Sarcasm would be when you use irony to show your contempt.” “Irony?” He shook his head, his long white hair falling into his face. “Saying one thing when you mean the other, dramatically.” “This is beneath me,” he muttered. Then, even quieter, he said, “This place is in dire need of a redecoration.” “I’m not even entirely sure what to say to that.” With those words, he flashed me a wicked grin that said little and suggested much. I turned away, actually rolling my eyes this time. For a powerful goblin lord, Soren definitely had the ability to act utterly childish. It could be almost endearing at times. This, however, was not one of those times. In the hall, the gazes on the back of my neck were sharp as knives. I kept my head straight, trying my hardest not to pay attention to the wolfish faces of the other attendees. From a distance they could almost be mistaken for human. They varied in size and shape and the color of their skin, hair, and eyes much like humans did. But even so, there was a sharpness to their features, a wildness, that could never be mistaken for human. The figures dressed in hunting leathers, long and lean, would only seek to torment me if I paid them any attention. As the only human in the hall, I was a curiosity. After all, what self-respecting goblin would bring a thrall to an event as important as this? That could very easily get me killed, and I wasn’t planning on dying anytime soon. My hand almost twitched again, but I stopped it just in time, heeding Soren’s warning. We finally crossed the floor to where the Erlking sat. Like Soren’s, the Goblin King’s hair was long. But unlike Soren, whose hair was whiter than the snow, the Erlking’s hair was brown. Not my brown, the color of fallen leaves, underbrush, and dark cherry wood, but murky, muddy brown. It was the color of bog mud that sucks down both humans and animals alike and it somehow managed to make his yellow-toned skin even sallower. He was the strongest of all goblins, and I hated him for it. I also feared him—I was smart enough for that—but the fear was drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears as I locked eyes with Soren’s king. Soren turned to me. “Stay here.” His eyes turned hard, the glimmer of light leaving them. Whatever softness he had before drained away until what was left was the hard, cold killer he was known to be, and with it went the last shreds of warmth in his voice. “Until I tell you otherwise.” Subtly, he jerked his pointer finger at the ground in a wordless warning. I bowed my head. “Don’t take too long.” “I don’t plan to,” he said, more to himself than to me, before approaching the Erlking’s throne. He went to one knee. “My king.” I eyed Soren from underneath the curtain of my hair. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides. He must’ve sensed something from the Erlking, from the other goblins, something. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Cautiously, I directed my gaze to the Goblin King himself, aware that if I looked at him the wrong way, I might be inviting my own death. While the behavior and treatment of thralls varied widely among goblins, I had a feeling submissiveness was required for any human in the Erlking’s path. This close, the Erlking’s eyes were dark in his shriveled husk of skin and there was a tinge of sickness in the air as he breathed his raspy breaths. His eyes flickered up to meet mine and I bowed my head again. Don’t attract attention. Soren spat out the vows required of him in the old tongue of his kind, the words gravelly and thick. He paused every so often, like he was waiting for when he would be free to drive his hand through his king’s chest, continuing on with disappointment every time. The tension around the room grew heavier, pressing down on those gathered. Somehow, like dogs sniffing out blood, they all knew the king was weak. Beautiful she-goblins and terrifying goblin brutes were all standing there waiting until it was legal to kill him. Beside the weakened king’s throne, a white stag rested on a pile of rushes. Its eyes were closed, its breath slow. Its skin and antlers shone with youth, but the ancient power it leaked pressed heavy against my shoulders. That power was older than anything else in the world—maybe older than the world itself. Goblins were, before all things, hunters. Born to reap and not to sow. Cursed with pain upon doing any action that did not in some way fit into the power the Permafrost gave them, the goblins fittingly had the submission of the stag as the symbol of their king’s ultimate power. Until it runs. I didn’t want to think about what happened after that. Soren continued to say his vows. The guttural language was like ice shards to my ears, and I shuddered. Catching myself about to fidget, I dug my fingers into my thigh. Control yourself, Janneke, I thought. If they can do it, you can. A soft voice whispered in my ear, “Is that you, Janneka?” His breath tickled the back of my neck, and every muscle in my body immediately locked. Icy dread trickled down my spine, rooting me in place. Don’t pay attention to him. He’ll go away. “I know you can hear me, sweetling.” Yes, I could hear him, and the sound of his voice made me want to vomit. My mouth went dry. CREDIT: WHITE STAG by KARA BARBIERI Copyright © 2018 by the author and reprinted by permission of Wednesday Books. About the Author: Kara Barbieri is a writer living in the tiny town of Hayward, Wisconsin. An avid fantasy fan, she began writing White Stag at eighteen and posting it to Wattpad soon after under the name of ‘Pandean’. When she’s not writing, you can find her marathoning Buffy the Vampire Slayer, reviving gothic fashion, and jamming to synthpop.

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