#I’m throwing up if I don’t get a sliver of fox man in the next book

[uukipi]

Miss maas!!!!! Give him a W or I’m gonna cry

[rogue-bard]

The starting deadline had been his first gray hair. As a ginger person, it took him quite a lot longer than Fjord, who had started going all 'silver fox' by the sweet age of 20, and even Veth, who had just begun showing off a silver fringe around last year. He was, as far as he knew, the very last one. (Yasha and Essek didn't count in this comparison, for obvious reasons, and Caduceus disqualified based on dietary reasons...) But no matter how long it lasted, they had destroyed his last chance to save his parents in Aeor, and with it the only possibility to stop times' ever advancing gravitational pull on his very own sword of Damocles. There was the Time Stop spell though, and sometimes, Caleb had walked in on Essek, late at night, or early in the morning, when humans can be reasonably expected to be fast asleep, buried in Dunamancy books that specialized on time. It could have been nothing. Time was Essek's specialty, as he kept reminding Caleb. But maybe Essek, too, was trying to look for a way to stop time, in a very particular, partial way. And somehow, that thought hurt even more than pretending the Drow didn't care. Essek was making plans of torturing his lover by inviting Jester to arrive a week early for Caleb's fifty-fifth birthday – “You know she would love to help with preparations, and you will do everything in your spell book's power to finagle your way out of having to celebrate, which I won't allow this year.” – when it was there: In the mirror, in between red and orange and ginger. Caleb stared at it. “Do you think we should move Jester's and Fjord's room next to Veth's and Yeza's until everyone else arrives?” Essek's voice from the room next doors shook him out of his stupor. He sounded so lost in thought about something so mundane... Caleb twisted the thin, white strand around his palm. “Yes, we should,” he said, as he ripped as hard as he could. Only his birthday. They had still time until after his birthday. He wasn't gonna drop dead in front of his ever-young boyfriend because of a gray hair. He didn't need to leave Essek right now. Plus, when the Nein were there, on his birthday, and staying over until at least a couple of days after, Essek wouldn't be alone. Yeah. He shouldn't be alone. That was the whole point. “I think they will appreciate not being alone on the third floor.” Essek poked his head in, and Caleb saw his fanged smile in the mirror as he tried to hide the tiny sliver of gray in his hand like Essek would see it as the proof of betrayal that it was. He forced a smile on his own face, but it make his cheeks hurt. “As will you, I'm sure.” Essek let out a huff that was almost a laugh. “I could never alone,” he said. “Not when I am with you.” His cheeks still hurt. But now his eyes stung, too.

“Caaaay-leeeeb!” Jester, as usual, was very versed in using her outside voice, right next to his ear. “Oh my gosh, you're sooo old now!” He winced a bit. Weird, he was used to her voice, wasn't he? And his ears weren't bad, but they also were not what they used to be. “I am exactly one day older than 55,” he answered her warily. “Yupp, birthday's over now, birthday boy,” Veth nodded. “I'm sorry if we're in the way of you two love-birds celebrating it in a more private way.” She grinned at Essek who was standing next to him, their shoulders not even touching, but for some reason, Veth acted as if they were digging for each other's tonsils with their tongues. (As she does.) When nobody else dignified her remark with a reaction, Jester squealed: “Like making tiny ginger Drow babies that float and have really good hair and a weird accent!” “Or, you know, just fucking,” Veth shrugged. “Yeah, I don't think making babies works that way, Jester,” Fjord hummed, imperturbable by now to Veth's crass language or his wife's antics. Caduceus smiled down at the Half-Orc, a tiny glint of mischief in his eyes: “How can you be so sure?” And of course, Kingsley was right there with him: “Exactly! With two wizards, you never know. Might make tiny cat babies trying to figure out how to explode a house.” “Or explode a library trying to make soup,” Beau added flatly. “That was one time, Beauregard,” Caleb cut in at the same time as Essek said: “I still am very sorry about that. I hope you told the Soul as much.” The monk shrugged. “'s fine. Was more fun than I had there in a week.” “Also since you always come in disguise, they don't really know who you are and you can still come back and visit us and go look at books,” Yasha tried to cheer him up. “Very nice,” Veth said and gave them a thumbs up. “But back to fucking.” In the corner of his eye, Caleb could see Fjord facepalm. The blue Tiefling on his arm wasn't as merciful however: “Yes, tell us if you can make tiny floatie Eslebs! ...Cayseks?” “Through fucking,” Veth added with a nod. She was clearly trying to get a rise out of either of them. Yeza might have been looking apologetic, but he was very clearly relieved that for once, he wasn't the victim of his wife's brutal teasing. Caleb wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of blushing, but he assumed that he wasn't her prime target anyway, since he was pretty shameless when it came to these things. “I think it might be time for bed for me,” he simply said and was already turning around when he felt someone grip his wrist. When he turned to look, Essek leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but only to disguise the whisper in his ear: “Do not dare leave me alone with them while they are in this mood!” He couldn't help but laugh, throwing Essek's clever ruse of faking a kiss to be subtle about his plea to the wind. “You could come with me,” he suggested. “Always,” Essek promised. Leaving tonight would be cruel, Caleb decided. Maybe he shouldn't leave Essek here with them, when they would needle him day and night about what might have transpired between them that had made Caleb leave. And Essek would be sitting up while they slept, mulling over their questions, thinking that he must have missed the clues, and that it was ultimately his fault. When in reality, it was just the inevitability of Essek finding him dead in bed one day, if he stayed for too long. But even though he tried to leave early so that Essek would remember him as the man he fell in love with, rather than a geriatric, he still had years if he wanted to. He could wait a few months. “Have fun fucking!”, Jester yelled after them and while Essek refused to turn around, Caleb just gave her a wary: “Ja, sure”.

Oh look! It’s a continuation of my last ficlet from this post! And I turned it into a ~5k fanfic! (read the whole thing on ao3 here)

[maxparkhurst]

April 30th

Eight Years Ago

A jar of fireflies casted their blanket fort in a whimsical glow reminiscent of summer’s encroaching warmth. In tune to the flickering light, two shadows danced across the walls late into the evening. As is the case with most parties, the guests had drunken themselves silly from apple juice and ginger beer, getting lost in the revelry. Amongst the cluster of half-finished board games were bowls laden with cracker jacks, licorice ropes, and sweets cakes procured from  Stillman's Candy Shop. The remnants of which clung to the floorboards and the walls of their fort.

The esteemed soldier and proud patron of regency, Sir Reginold, sat with perfect posture at the end of the gathering. His painted eyes surveyed the game of Chess with both amusement and skepticism. By his side was Lady Thistle of Fox Hollow. Despite being almost twice his age, she still maintained an air of beauty with her overstuffed belly and vibrant, velveteen coat. She leaned heavily on Sir Reginold, humming along to the tune played by the bard. Rutherford J. Peachworthy, the seven armed octopus, sat in the corner with all his instruments as his one-man band played sea-shanties and ballads.

I do wonder how he lost that eighth arm, whispered Lady Thistle to Sir Reginold.

Lost it in a harrowing accident with the dog next door. Don’t bring attention to it, warned Sir Reginold, He’s quite sensitive about it.

Not bringing attention to it. Just...Admiring.

Well, quit your star-gazing and pay attention. Ol’ sport’s got the lass cornered!

Only the most important people were invited to the Midnight Celebration. An exclusive - and o’so secret - party that celebrated the final hours of the year. Aside from the Knight and Lady, only one other person received a formal invitation written by the hand of the Honored Guest. That person had been the same to procure the venue, snacks, and music - Max Parkhurst.

Max sat cross-legged on the black side of the chess board. Lip pursed and brows furrowed, she made a show of scouring the board for options. There was a lot on the line. The praise of Sir Reginold, a kiss from Lady Thistle, and a whole box of cherry filled chocolates would be gifted to the winner. Max swallowed hard, feeling the pressure weigh on her shoulders, and adjusted her party hat. It seemed almost as if Peachworthy was matching the music’s tempo to the rising stakes. She stole a glance up at her opponent. And couldn’t suppress the smile which crept on her lips.

Augustine beamed on the other end of the board. He wore his favorite overalls- the one with the faded foxes embroidered on the pocket- and a slightly askew crown on his head. His pale cheeks, deeply freckled from the Kul’tiran sun, were flushed with excitement and sticky from melted candy. A handful of cracker jacks laid clenched in one hand while the other hand thumped his knee. Just a touch of pink poked out from between lips as he kept licking at his absent tooth. He kept stealing nervous glances at his Rook stationed in-line with her King, as if he were praying for the piece’s success in regicide.

Hurry up and finish it!

Hush, you! It isn’t his turn. A gentleman must NEVER cheat.

The young boy stuffed his cheeks full of cracker jacks, wiping the residue caramel on his overalls, and nodded for Max to make her move. A sly smirk played on the older sibling’s lips. Slowly, her hand hovered over the board until it rested just above her Bishop. Augustine held his breath as he bounced in his seat.

Oh. Not that one!

Max canted her head. Thought over her choice before selecting the Pawn just next to the Bishop. Augustine and his guests all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Pawn to C4,” she mused, flashing a smarmy grin.

What a blunder she’s made!

All too enthused, Augustine reached over and crashed his Rook into her King. “And I take your King!”

Max hitched back her chin with a faux gasp. “Well… It appears you’ve won again.” And in the same motion, she leaned across the fort to Sir Reginold. “Good show Ol’ Sport!”- she donned her best gravel tone as she maneuvered his arms- “Right, Good Show!”

She then picked up Thistle and brought the plush’s muzzle to his cheek for a smooch. “M’aw! I knew you could do it, Lord Parkhurst. Simply knew you could do it!”

Augustine curled into himself and giggled. “It is all thanks to you, guys!” He reached for the box chocolates. Unwrapped it from its foil paper and plucked a candy for either guest. “So, to show me appr- appre… My thanks! I give each of you one chocolate.”

“Oh, Lord Parkhurst,” -Max flopped a paw over Lady Thistle’s muzzle- “You are far TOO kind.”

“And one for you as well.” Augustine held a chocolate out to Max. “Because you played a good game.”

Max accepted the treat with a warm smile. She plucked the candy from its wrapper, watching from the corner of her eyes as her brother gestured to the plush octopus- “Music!” She began to whistle a tune as Augustine scooped up Lady Thistle. They spun in lazy circles, stepping over empty bowls and cups still rimmed with juice, until the clock in the parlor struck twelve. Delight danced in Augustine’s eyes as a sudden realization dawned on him. He turned to Max, flashing her a gapped tooth grin.

“It’s my birthday…” he squeaked.

“Indeed.” Max pushed herself to her feet, gesturing to the jar of fireflies. “Come on. And bring those.”

She held up the blankets as Augustine shimmied out of the fort with jar in hand. They both blinked into the mist of dust that coated their shared attic room. Cold and ominous it felt compared to warmth in the blanket fort, only a sliver of moonlight drifted in from the port window. Max lifted Augustine onto her shoulders so he could reach the window’s lip. He waited a moment, head bowed over the jar in silent gesture, before releasing the fireflies out into the tepid, summer air.

“Wish for something good?” she breathed, setting him on his bed.

Max listened half-hearted as she began to disassemble their fort. Her brow furrowed upon being met with silence. She turned back to find Augustine perched on the edge of his bed. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing.” His nose wrinkled. A pause followed. “I just...Wish tonight wasn’t over already. It was a lot of fun.”

“Well, we’ll have more fun tomorrow.” She shook crumbs and candy wrappers from the blanket before throwing it over him. “With plenty of cake and presents.”

Augustine flopped down onto his pillow, looking up with a ghost of a pout. “I suppose… Though, Auntie will want to make it all proper. Have me wear a suit and sit at a table full of people I don’t know…”

“You mean our relatives?” She rescued Sir Reginold and Lady Thistle from the party’s aftermath. Placed them on either side of Augustine and tucked the trio in. “Come on. You know exactly who they are.”

“Well, doesn’t mean I like them!” He crossed his arms with a huff. “And doesn’t mean they’ll be any fun. I want to continue the Midnight Celebration all the way until the sun rises! Then we can have cake for breakfast. That would be a good birthday.”

“How about this,” Max mused, sitting on the edge of his bed, “Once I’m eighteen and we’re living on our own, we’ll spend all your birthdays like this. Full of treats and laughter and fun. And only the closest of our friends will be invited to our party. Does that sound fine with you?”

Augustine nodded.

“I would like that very much.”

“Good.” She ruffled his hair. “But for now, you get some sleep. You’ll need plenty of rest now that you’re nine.”

A yawn escaped Augustine as he sunk further into bed. “I thought...You needed less sleep as you got older.”

“Quite the opposite. Now… Less talking. More sleeping.”

She waited until his eyes fluttered shut and his breathing grew heavy and warm with sleep. Her jovial grin melted into a disquiet smile as she brushed back his hair. “Happy Birthday, Augustine.”

[ffakc]

Whispers of the North - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

@iluvneganandjamie @negans-attagirl @jdmbbycakes

Jeff opened the door to the log cabin. He drops his luggage to the side and did the same with mine.

“M’lady,” he holds out his arms.

“You’re not going to pick me up, are you?” I laugh.

“Of course I am! Isn’t that the thing that couples do on their honeymoon?” Jeff has a wide smile on his face.

“Fine, if you’re going to be all cute and shit,” I kiss him as he scoops me up.

“Hello Alaska! This is our home for the next month,” Jeff steps through the door and kisses me. I stroke the gray hair on his cheek.

“I can’t believe we’re here. I can’t believe we’re married!” I reply as Jeff sets me down and wraps his arms around my waist. I can’t stop kissing my new husband, he’s my dream come true.

Jeff lowers his voice, pressing his forehead to mine, “I get to call you my wife. Incredible. You make me the luckiest, Mrs. Morgan. Just when I thought I couldn’t love you anymore, I saw you walk down that aisle and... oh god girl, I fell so hard all over again. My mind went blank, all I could see was my bride. You were breathtaking. I love you.”

“I love you more than words can explain, my gorgeous husband,” I grab his hand kiss his wedding ring. I pull away from his embrace, exploring the lower level of the cabin. Jeff makes his way to the kitchen, pushing his bifocals up the bridge of his nose.

“Aww, look at this!” he holds up a plush moose that’s holding a heart. “Adorable!” Jeff picks up the card. “‘To Mr. and Mrs. Morgan: wishing you joy, love and happiness on as you begin your new life together. From, the staff at (Name) Cabins.’ That’s so nice of them!” I smile and make my way over to the kitchen. I sit on a bar stool at the island, placing my chin in my hand.

“Shall we?” Jeff retrieves a bottle of champagne from the fridge.

“Of course,” I respond and give him a peck on the lips. Jeff sifts through the cabinets and finds some wine glasses. He pops the bottle and carefully pours two glasses. I hold up my glass, “To new adventures and seeing the world together, to falling more and more in love with you every single day. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, sweetheart. I’m so grateful I get to call you mine, Jeff.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Jeff tapped his glass against mine with a juicy kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

***

I slide into the hot tub and sip my champagne. Jeff saunters out to the deck in a waffle knit robe and a cigarette dangling from his lips. His hair is disheveled in all the right ways. I click my tongue.

“God damn, my husband is so sexy,” I sigh. Jeff lights up his cigarette with a mischievous grin.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he slinks out of his robe, exposing the masculine rug of hair covering from his chest to his stomach. I lick my lips, my silver fox is absolutely a feast for the eyes. Jeff climbs in the tub and curls up next to me. “This is heaven on these bones,” he takes a long drag and tilts his head back. “I’m with my wife on our honeymoon, un-fucking-believable. You’re my dream come true, princess,” he clutches my hand. “Come here, little girl.” Jeff pulls me into his lap. I run my fingers through his luscious hair and kiss him pasisonately. I lean into his rough, yet gentle touch and moan softly. He wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face in my neck and chest. The snow on the ground dampened every sound, all I hear are the rolling bubbles and Jeff’s lips on my body.

“God, Jeffrey,” I gasp and pull his hair, rubbing myself against the bulge in his swimsuit. He smiles up at me and plants sloppy kisses on my neck.

“I love the way my name sounds when you moan it,” Jeff bites his lip.

“Jeff,” I whimper, “Oh Jeffrey.”

“Yes, baby. Stroke my ego,” he chuckles, blowing smoke seductively and crushing out his cigarette.

“Oh, I will. I love making you feel like the powerful man you are,” I run my hands across his chest. “There’s not a day that goes by that you forget to tell me you love me and I love that so much. Your husky voice makes my toes curl. When you call me when you’re on your lunch break, my thoughts race. The smell of your cologne,” I kiss his neck and inhale his scent. “My god. Your salt and pepper hair turns me on like crazy, Jeff.”

“You sure know how to make me feel good, honey,” Jeff squeezes me close.

***

“Good morning, my beautiful wife,” Jeff’s croaky morning voice fills my ears.

“More like ‘great morning’, you were relentless last night, baby,” I snuggle into the dark hair on Jeff’s chest. My husband strokes my hair and chuckles to himself. I glance up at him and he kisses me deeply.

“That’s right, I’ve still got it,” Jeff smirks. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“Well, there’s a cute little roadhouse just down the road from here, maybe that for breakfast. After that, I had scheduled a whale watching tour for this afternoon and I’m so excited about that, you have no idea!”

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen a whale up close before, that’ll be fun!” my husband buries his face in my neck. He lowers his voice and moans in my ear as he cups my breasts in his hands, “How’s about round five before breakfast, sweet girl?”

“Oh god, Jeff, please,” I kiss him deeply and climb on top of him.

***

“Oh my god, babe! That was a blast!” I remark as we trudge through the snow up the porch stairs. I squeeze my husband’s hand.

“Seeing those humpbacks so close have me chills all over! Their mouths are fucking huge! They’re bigger than yours, and that’s saying something!” Jeff cackles.

“Will you shut up?” I giggle. “My lifelong dream of whale watching came true and all you want to do is roast me?! Don’t ruin this for me, asshole!” Jeff laughs at my teasing and opens the door to our cabin. I press myself against him, kissing him as he walks backwards through the door. He throws his head back as I kiss his neck. I shut the door behind us as he leans against the entryway wall. I remove my coat and sweater, revealing my low cut undershirt. Jeff drops his parka and I begin to unbutton his flannel button down, running my hands over his chest. I stimulate myself against his denim clad thigh.

“Oh, Jeff,” I gasp, gripping onto his shoulders as he leaves marks on my neck and collarbones. I stroke his thick hair.

“Fuck, girl,” Jeff groans. “I’m sure we’ve had sex in every corner of this joint,” a smile makes its way across his lips. He’s absolutely right. It was damn near impossible to keep my hands off my rugged silver fox. “Except maybe,” Jeff glances at the island and plants deep kisses in my cleavage, “The kitchen. Let me lick you clean, sweetheart. I love worshipping that body of yours. Making my gal feel good is my top priority.” The smell of my husband’s cologne and mouth against my body is utterly intoxicating. I slide out of my leggings and Jeff teases me with his dexterous fingers. I lean into his touch with a moan, grasping the back of his head with a kiss.

“You’ve got me so turned on,” Jeff licks his slick fingers and kisses me, lifting me and places me on the counter. His stubble brushes against my thighs as he leaves soft kisses. “Oh, baby doll, I don’t want to waste a single drop. You taste so damn good...” Jeff’s words melt into pleasurable groans. His tongue glides from my entrance to my clit with a persistent smirk. I never want him to stop.

“Look at my Daddy doing what he does best. Oh Jeffrey,” I tangle my hands in his slivering hair. His incredible tongue circles my clit as he makes obnoxiously sexy sucking, licking, and groaning noises. I gasp in pleasure, “Fuck, Jeff. How are you so handsome? It physically hurts me.”

“Makes this little pussy ache, hm?” Jeff chuckles, teasing me with his fingers. “I love making your pussy throb. I love tasting you. I love the little noises you make when Daddy does a good job.” Jeff hovers over me, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants to his mid thighs. He presses his hard cock against me as he kisses my neck and chest, “Are you my pinkie toe? Because I’d sure like to bang you on this table,” he smiles at his own quip. I moan at the firm feeling of his throbbing erection.

“Clever,” I roll my eyes and laugh. Jeff smirks and sinks into me, biting his lip with a loud groan.

“Oh fuck, you feel so damn good,” Jeff grips my hands, holding me down. “You have no idea how much your Daddy loves you. You mean the entire fucking world to me, princess.”

“You’re so adorable. I love you, oh god,” I moan his name, “Right there, Jeff. Please, Jeff. Fuck me,” Jeff groans against my neck, planting deep kisses. I grasp his hair. “Harder, Daddy,” I whine. Jeff quickens his thrusts, pounding me deeper.

“Jesus fucking Christ! God, I love pounding your sweet little pussy,” Jeff grunts through gritted teeth. “Let me pump you full. I’m going to- oh fuck!“ Jeff finishes deep inside me, wiping the sweat from his brow. His eyelids flutter with delight. “Baby, baby, baby,” he clicks his tongue. I can hardly catch my breath. “You are so perfect,” he pulls his pants back up and kisses me.

***

It was the last night of our nearly month long expedition in the tundra. I didn’t want to go back home, but alas, the time had come. After a hot shower, Jeff and I stepped out onto the back deck of our cabin. He wraps a flannel blanket around my shoulders. He sips his coffee and zips up his coat.

“Look at all those stars,” he remarks. “What a beautiful night.”

“It really i-“ I gasp, “Babe, look! The Northern Lights!” Jeff wraps his arms around me and rocks me back and forth. “Oh my god,” I sigh, “This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.”

“I never thought I’d see them in person,” Jeff says, “I never want this night to end, sweetheart. I could stay here forever,” he kisses my shoulder sweetly.

“Me too, Jeff, me too,” my heart flutters in my chest, “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Anything, sweet girl,” I turn around to face my husband and stand on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“So, you know how I thought those crab legs messed up my stomach?”

“Yeah, I remember. Are you feeling better? Please don’t puke on me,” Jeff rolls his eyes and laughs. I hold his hands in mine.

“And you know how I said I had to run to the drug store earlier because I needed some headache medicine?” Jeff nods, a smile curling across his lips.

“You are prone to headaches,” he shrugs.

“Well...” I giggle nervously and place his large, manly hands on my stomach.

“NO, YOU ARE NOT! OH GOD, BABY GIRL!” Jeff yells, his voice echoing through the empty field around us. He covers his mouth. “Sorry, that was loud,” he lowers his voice to a whisper as tears well up and begin to fall down his bearded cheeks, “You’re pregnant?” I begin to shed tears myself.

“Yes, Jeffrey, yes!” I laugh excitedly as Jeff hugs me right.

“Oh my god, I’m going to be a dad! No fucking way!” he drops to his knees and kisses my stomach all over. “You’re going to be the best mama, you know that? My heart is pounding, sweetheart.” I pet his hair as we both cannot wipe the smiles off our faces. “Daddy can’t wait to meet you, little one,” Jeff speaks softly. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband, a better honeymoon, and now a better father for my child. Everything has never felt more perfect than life with my darling Jeffrey Dean.

[milknette]

day 21 - circus

all i want is to fly with you, all i want is to fall with you.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

WHEN Nino suggests that Adrien invest in the circus, he is, understandably, hesitant.

"I'm just not sure it's a good idea long-term, Nino," he starts, a hesitant expression on his face. "Does anyone even go to circuses anymore? Father's really counting on me to expand our business venture, and I can't take any risks that would disappoint him."

Nino only shakes his head, putting a carefree arm around his best friend's shoulders, and pulling him closer. "Dude, you weren't there. I thought I'd hate it, but I was so wrong. Their performances were almost… magical."

Adrien only laughs. "Magical? I've never heard you use such… romantic words."

A playful bump on the shoulder. "Shut up, man," he only responds, an unimpressed expression on his face. "Look," Nino starts, retrieving a ticket from his pocket. "They have a show tonight. Alya couldn't go, so I have an extra ticket. I really think you should check it out."

"And if I don't?"

Nino shrugs. "It's your loss. Besides, it's just onenight. What do you have to lose?"

.

.

It's called the Miraculous Circus.

Adrien thinks it's a corny name, but ultimately decides to continue on anyway. After all, he's driven almost an hour to get there, and it is, frankly, a waste of a ticket.

(Though the ticket itself doesn't cost a lot— which doesn't do much to heighten his expectations for what he's about to see.

Why is he doing this again?)

The ticket line is unsurprisingly small. Outside of a few kids and their families, Adrien starkly feels like an outsider in his absurdly overly-formal business suit and lack of company. He's only too glad that the line moves quickly, allowing him to take a seat at the very back of the tent.

An old man, almost struggling to walk with his cane, enters.

Adrien's first instinct is to run down and help him out.

Is he the ringmaster of this whole affair?

The stranger coughs, then speaks with surprising strength, his clear voice echoing throughout the stands. "Welcome to the Miraculous Circus, everyone! We are extremely happy to have you here." He scans the audience, then smiles. (Adrien almost thinks they make eye contact, as he winks. Maybe he imagined it?) "My name is Master Fu, and I've been lucky enough to work and become a family with this amazingly talented group of performers. But that's enough with introductions."

Master Fu's eyes shine, then to Adrien's complete surprise, throws up his cane.

The curtains open as he does so, and he watches with surprise as the ringmaster moves with surprising agility and grace, to introduce the show.

"Now for something truly magical."

.

.

Magical isn't enough to describe what took place before him.

From the horse tamer who seems to transport from place-to-place in mere seconds, to the monkey-like acrobat who can contort and move his body in ways one could never imagine, to the fox-like magician who creates illusions from smoke, Adrien found himself completely enamored with the performance.

He was confident that Nino was making a big deal out of nothing.

As it turns out, Nino wasn't making enough of a big deal at all.

It's almost two hours of pure magic, when Master Fu announces their final act.

Adrien thinks he's seen it all, and that nothing could quite top what he's watched already.

As the day has proven, however, Adrien, in fact, gets many things wrong.

Which is all-too-clear when the final performer walks upon the stage, dressed in a vibrant red outfit that seems to draw everyone's attention. She also wears a mask upon her head— the same color as her clothes, with a fanciful black feather decorating the top.

It's no different from the rest of the performers, who also wear masks, but Adrien finds himself deeply wishing that she would take it off; to see her more clearly.

The woman— Ladybug, Master Fu calls her— is a trapeze artist. She carefully stands upon the edge, almost nervous, before she takes a deep breath in. Then, her expression makes a complete switch.

A confident smile upon her face, Ladybug simply takes a step forward, holds on to the ring, then let's go.

And she's flying.

With ease, Ladybug jumps and moves her body in a way that Adrien can only describe as mesmerizing. She looks almost at home in the air, as if she were born with wings— navigating through the sky with evident ease and comfort.

Adrien doesn't blink for a moment.

Scared that he'll miss something, carving every moment he sees of her in his head.

For a moment, she swings his way, and he swears that they make eye contact.

Swears that he sees the playful look in her eye, and her lips curved upward with the tiniest sliver of a smile.

She swings back just as quickly, but it's in that moment of split-second electricity Adrien becomes settled on his decision:

He's going to invest into a circus.

.

.

It's a challenge, at the very least, to convince his father that working with the circus is a good idea.

But after hours of negotiations (mostly on Adrien's part) and the promise that this is a good investment— where he'll take all responsibility should it fail or even be worth even the smallest fraction less than what he told him it'd become, Gabriel Agreste finally relents.

And it's been a long time since Adrien's been so happy about anything at all.

After speaking with Master Fu, the arrangement is set.

He's to start working with them the following day.

.

.

Adrien meets the performers the week after.

They all use their stage names in introducing themselves to him, something Master Fu had warned him of in advance— a lot of the performers had identities they'd prefer to keep secret, and this sense of anonymity was much respected within their community. Unlike in common society, asking for someone's name there is to ask for them to share their deepest parts of themselves to the other person.

Rena Rouge, Viperion, Carapace, Queen Bee…

"So, what's your name?"

After a moment of thought, he smiles. "Chat Noir."

Adrien fits right in with them.

He asks for Ladybug, and Master Fu tells him she's the most mysterious one of them all; only showing up when she's due to performance, and never any longer.

The hours seem to take forever while he's waiting for her to show up.

.

.

She arrives at the act before hers, already fully-dressed in her costume and makeup.

They only have a few minutes to talk, maybe even less so, but Adrien's determined and makes it a point to introduce himself.

"Ladybug, right?"

"Ah, you must be Master Fu's new business partner?" She says the words a little too dryly, maybe even almost unimpressed, but he decides to shake it off and push forward.

"Yes. We're working together, and I'll make sure to bring this circus to new heights—"

(He hopes Ladybug gets the pun. It's either that she does not, or that she chose to ignore it completely. With the unimpressed expression on her face, Adrien assumes it's the latter.)

She turns to him. "Look, I'm not sure why you're here, but leave us alone, okay? Miraculous is a family, and my home." Her glare turns sharp. "And I'll destroy anyone who tries to take that away from me."

Her tone indicates that she's done talking, but he, understandably, isn't.

"I think we have a misunderstanding," he tries speaking up. "I'm not trying to take the circus or anything, I just want to help it grow— to have more people experience the magic that I experienced while watching everyone here," he pauses. "You, especially."

A smile teases the edge of her lips.

"So I take it you enjoyed my performance?"

"Enjoyed wouldn't be a strong enough word to describe how it made me feel."

Ladybug leans closer to him, and he can feel himself explode into a shade of red he never thought possible.

When their lips are only centimeters apart, she smirks.

"Sorry, I'm only interested in performers." She looks down at his tuxedo and business-casual suit. "Someone more… fun."

Vaguely, Adrien registers the voice of Master Fu calling Marinette to the stage.

She smiles.

"See you around, kitty."

.

.

The next day, Adrien goes around asking different performers if they could teach him some of their tricks.

Ladybug watches from the sidelines, evidently entertained.

He's a bit cute, actually.

.

.

After a few weeks of almost choking on knives, getting bitten by a lion, and burning himself, Adrien tries out his last and final circus activity.

To both his and Ladybug's surprise (though it's more to her absolute horror), Chat Noir has an innate talent with doing trapeze work.

Master Fu announces that she start teaching him the ropes. (Chat Noir looks hopefully at his now-partner, because the ropes, haha get it because that's what we mostly work with, but is only met with a flat look.)

"Alright then. If we're doing this, then we're doing this properly, got it?"

"Yes, milady. The two of us together will make a meowvelous purrformance."

She rolls her eyes, but can't quite hide the smile on her face, either.

.

.

Chat Noir adjusts his earpiece.

"Can you hear me, bugaboo?"

"That depends, what are you going to tell me?"

"Hmm… well I guess, don't worry."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't let you fall."

"You bet you won't let me fall, we've practiced this routine enough times that…"

"Because the only time you'll fall is when you fall for me."

"..."

"Ladybug?"

"..."

"Aw, didn't your heart jump for joy when I said that?"

"You really are corny, aren't you?"

"But you love it anyway."

"Maybe I do."

"Wait, Ladybug… what did you—"

"Now let's introduce our final act! The one you've all, and even I have been anxiously waiting for…"

"I couldn't hear it properly through the headset. Ladybug, tell me what you said…"

"Get the routine down perfectly tonight, and I'll say it again. So, are you sure you're ready for this, alleycat?"

Adrien smiles.

"Pawsitive."

"... the debut performance of Ladybug and Chat Noir!"

[prairiesongserial]

9.5

Cody’s ears were ringing from the sound of the gunshot, his hands warm and wet with John’s blood, all of him shaking like the tall grass in the wind. He’d seen Ethan only a second after John had, moved to try and pull John down as Ethan raised the gun, but it had been too late, too late, too late. Now John was on the ground, staining the grass red, and Ethan was stalking closer, still holding the rifle in his arms.

Ethan’s lips were moving - he was saying something, but Cody couldn’t hear, and didn’t care. John’s hand was still in his, and he squeezed it soundlessly, like he could pass the strength of his own rage into John, to keep him from bleeding out. John had saved his life when he’d been hurt and sick, back in Oregon, and Cody owed it to him to do the same.

There was a sudden, sharp pain in Cody’s scalp, and he found himself being dragged to his feet by his hair, his hand sliding out of John’s.

“Leave him be,” Ethan said, grinning, combing Cody’s hair back from his face with his fingers. He reeked of gunpowder and gasoline, and his hands were cold, too cold to have been holding a rifle that had just fired. “He’ll be dead soon, anyway. It’d be a pain to take him home with us.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Cody said, and spat in Ethan’s face.

Ethan blinked, his smile wavering, his hand straying with uncertainty to the stock of his rifle. Cody saw something harden behind his eyes, then. Ethan moved as quickly as a viper striking, jamming the rifle up and against Cody’s ribs.

“I think you are,” Ethan said, his voice dangerously soft. “Because I have gone to a lot of trouble to catch you, see, and I’m not gonna let you slip away one more time.”

There was a part of Cody that wanted to reason with Ethan, wanted to ask how they’d gotten here, after years and years of being friends. He was almost sure that a little groveling could convince Ethan to bring John along, to at least find him a doctor in the next town they passed through. Groveling had always gone far with Ethan. But most of Cody was filling up with the same rage he’d felt back in Old Problem, the feral kind of anger that made him feel like a passenger inside of his own body.

Cody screamed, a hoarse, shrill sound like a fox call, and took satisfaction in the sudden look of surprise on Ethan’s face. He screamed again, spittle flying from his lips, the sound coming up from somewhere deep in his stomach. Ethan looked almost afraid of it, flinching away the second time. Good. Let him be afraid. Let him feel a fraction of the fear Cody had been feeling for weeks, running from the Dead-Eyes. A sliver of the fear Cody had felt, seeing Ethan standing there with the rifle, after Cody had thought he was left behind forever.

Cody screamed a third time, flipping his poncho up and over his head as he did it, and dropping it down over Ethan in a nearly fluid movement, blocking his line of sight. Ethan swore, but Cody didn’t stick around to hear it - he dropped to the ground, crawling on his belly in the tall grass. If he could get to the bike before Ethan shot him, he stood a chance of saving them both. It was probably five yards away, and there was no way Ethan wouldn’t start shooting before that, but Cody had to hope, or he knew he would freeze up and let himself be taken.

“We could have done this the easy way, Cody!” Ethan said, somewhere both behind and above him. He was probably banking on a response, so he could pinpoint where Cody was. Cody ignored him, dragging his body through the grass as soundlessly as he could, raking up dirt with his nails.

“I don’t know why you’re making this so hard on yourself,” Ethan went on. He was walking through the grass, and his footsteps were getting closer. Cody could see the bike through the grass, and focused as hard as he could on the front tire, almost willing it to roll towards him.

“We’re still friends, aren’t we?” Ethan asked. Cody could still hear the slight quiver of uncertainty in his voice. “Just come back to Oregon with me, and things’ll be how they used to. You’ll work for the Dead-Eyes, and make back the money you took.”

“Fuck you,” Cody muttered to himself, raising up into a crouch. He had nearly reached the edge of the tall grass - he would have to sprint the few, open feet between himself and where the bike was parked. He knew Ethan wasn’t the best shot, but Ethan didn’t have to be, to incapacitate a target as big and as close as Cody.

“Fuck you, Ethan,” he said again, loudly, letting the sound come up gutterally from his stomach like it had before.

The second he heard Ethan start to respond, Cody sprang out of his crouch and ran for the bike. He didn’t straddle it - instead, he plunged his hand into one of the saddlebags, and felt relief wash over him as his skin met warm metal.

“Cody -” Ethan began, and Cody whirled on him, pistol in hand.

“No,” he hissed, raising the pistol and pointing it squarely at Ethan’s chest. “You’ve already said enough goddamn words to me, Ethan. Now I get to talk.”

The flash of fear in Ethan’s eyes was almost intoxicating. Cody could see Ethan’s Adam’s apple bob nervously in his throat as he swallowed, still holding the rifle like he wasn’t sure what to do with it anymore. The poncho was gone, swallowed by the grass somewhere.

“Okay,” Ethan said, his lips trying to twitch into a smirk, but ending up in more of a grimace. “Then talk.”

Cody took a breath. Anything he said, Ethan would just twist to make himself look like the victim - he was the one who’d lost money, he was the one who’d been tracking Cody halfway across the States, he was the one who the Dead-Eyes had (Cody assumed) given up on. Ethan could talk circles around him any day, and John was still on the ground somewhere, bleeding into the soil.

“I changed my mind,” Cody said. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Ethan’s smirk became more genuine, and he opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the gunshots.

Cody fired once into Ethan’s chest, then again into his stomach, then again into his shoulder, and kept firing, again, again, again, until the pistol was empty of bullets. All that in the seconds before Ethan’s legs buckled and he hit the ground, his rifle falling heavily on top of him. Cody didn’t check to see if he was dead - he knew the answer..

Cody’s ears were still ringing - worse, now. He put the pistol down on the seat of the bike. His heart was throwing itself almost painfully against his ribs, and his stomach had turned over, a wave of nausea hitting him vaguely beneath the adrenaline. Cody had thought that killing Ethan might feel different - victorious, even. But all of him felt bad, almost sick. Maybe it would feel good later, when he remembered he didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

Cody swallowed past the bile in his throat and waded into the grass, looking for where he had left John, nearly stepping on him when he did find him. Cody crouched down to lace his fingers with John’s again, squeezing his hand.

“I heard…” John said, faintly. He was curled in on himself, his eyes red, his face shiny with the tracks of tears. More were pooling in his eyes as he spoke, but there was also a certain relief in his gaze as he looked up at Cody, trying valiantly to squeeze Cody’s hand back. “Ethan - did he..?”

“No,” Cody said. There would be time for the rest of the story later. He slung an arm around John’s waist and tugged him up, trying to use himself as a crutch so John wouldn’t have to put any weight on the knee Ethan had shot. “Can you walk?”

“Maybe,” John grunted, his eyes still closed. “Knee hurts.”

“We’ll take it slow,” Cody said, looping one of John’s arms around his shoulders, keeping the arm he’d slung around John’s waist as sturdy as possible.

Cody urged John along at a gradual pace, keeping his eyes on the bike, occasionally glancing towards the ground, to make sure they wouldn’t stumble over Ethan’s body. He didn’t want to look at it, and he was sure John didn’t either. Cody was so singularly focused on the task of guiding John that he barely registered the sound of an engine in the distance, until another bike rode into his field of vision. It stopped, parking nearly on top of his and John’s bike, and the riders dismounted.

The woman who’d been driving the bike was short and wide-eyed, with dark hair that curled wildly around her face. Behind her was a tall man with the most vibrant purple eyes Cody had ever seen, wearing a priest’s collar. Both seemed vaguely familiar, like Cody had met them once in a dream.

“Is he okay?” the priest asked, coming over to take John off of Cody’s hands. He was looking over John’s shoulder distractedly, towards the river, and Cody couldn’t blame him. The glowing water was still something to see, after all that had happened here.

“His leg’s shot,” Cody said, a little numbly. The anger was receding inside of him, leaving a profound emptiness of feeling behind. “His knee, I mean.”

“Well, thank God we got here on time. We’ve been driving up and down this fuckin’ riverbank all day, looking for you,” the woman on the bike said, flashing Cody an uncertain sort of smile. “You’re Cody, right? We met before, but you were real sick. I’m Friday, and that’s Val.”

Friday. Friday was here, after weeks of wondering where she’d been. Weeks of assuming something had happened to her. Friday had come after all. Cody laughed, suddenly unsteady on his feet without the weight of John leaning on him. He caught himself against the bike, and laughed again.

“Are you okay?” Friday asked, pointedly.

“Yeah,” Cody said. “John needs a doctor.”

“I know where we can go,” the priest - Val - said. Friday looked at him with apparent surprise, and he shrugged. “I grew up close to here. They won’t turn you away if you’re with me.”

“Good,” Cody said. He put a hand on the bike to straddle it, and noticed the pistol still on the seat. Unsteadily, he slid it back into the saddlebag, then got on the bike. It felt unfamiliar to him, like he was in a different body, seeing himself from a thousand yards away.

“I can ride with John,” he added. “Put him on behind me.”

“You sure?” Friday asked. “Val can probably take him. I can come on your bike -”

“No,” Cody said, as the bike hummed to life underneath him. “He goes where I go.”

9.4 || epilogue 9

[wxldchxld]

🌁+ Beck drags Ros outside to play with her in fox form look how much fun she's having Ros play with her!

Three weeks. Three weeks nursing a spell that would bring a good snow to London. It wasn’t the type of magic she could channel herself. It took Beck, both of her dogs, and the begrudging assistance of Ros’ cat Vlad sitting around the circle for hours each night after Ros had gone to sleep. It was harmless work, without any fear of backfiring spells or expending personal energy, but tedious.

She waited for days by windows, eagerly squinting into the distance for the blanket of clouds that was approaching on the horizon. It was to be a slow build, traveling south from Scotland so that the city people would have some time to prepare. Morning air and evening skies went from crisp to cutting cold, but Beck didn’t mind. She liked to stand outside and let the frost nip at her cheeks and remind her of the many winters she’d spent fending for herself; alone in an Alaskan safe house on the edge of nowhere. 

Beck was awake when the first flake fell against the window sill. There was barely any light to see by; a sliver of sun peaked over the horizon to cast a spotlight on the magical winter scene unfolding on the quiet London street. She curled herself up on the back of the couch next to the window—occasionally reacting out her hand to touch the frosted pane. Vlad joined her, not two feet away, flicking his eyes and his tail back and forth with incredibly contempt as if to say ‘THIS is what we did all that work for?’

The snow fell continuously. It didn’t stop. It didn’t slow. The pace was furious and the flakes were fat. By seven am there was a perfect blanket of snow, at least six inches sprawled out over the normally bustling city. The storm gradually receded into light flurries falling from the sky and the clouds parted enough for the sun to shine down on the ivory plain and make it sparkle. Scientists would call it something wordy and accurate like ‘the refraction of light through the water crystals’ but Beck knew it for what it was. She saw the world through witches’ eyes and to her kind the first snow was an incredible magical experience.

She couldn’t take it any longer. She needed to be out there. She needed to feel it. But there was also the profound need to share that feeling. 

Her feet were paws before they even touched the ground. From down her long red nose the world around her appeared enormous and out of proportion now. She was Jack in the Giant’s house at the top of the beanstalk. She scaled the mountainous, sloped back of the couch and zipped through a forest of dining room chairs, rounding one corner, then the next, then bolting up the staircase at breakneck speed. The faster she went the faster she wanted to go, the stronger her excitment became. She couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to. 

The door to Ros’ room flew open with a bit of magic and the little fox zoomed into the room as no more than a blur. She jumped, flying up onto the bed, and found herself still unable to stop. So she darted to the head of the bed, then sprinted back towards the door in a mad man’s running fit.

‘Ros!’ She called, turning around in the hallway only centimeters before her little black nose collided with the wall. Back into the room, up onto the bed, wheeling around in a wild circle. ‘Ros!’

Beck was gone before she could see the agent abruptly stir to life and reach for her gun in nervous anticipation. She did, however, hear the slightly panicked voice asking her what in the hell was going on. The third time when she returned, hopping onto the bed, she managed to stop herself. She lowered down onto her haunches and left her rear in the air; her puffed tail swung back and forth behind her to further betray her excitement.

‘Ros it’s snowing!’ She said, barely audible in Ros’ head due to the ecstatic yips she was making. ‘Get up! Get up and come see the snow with me! Please! Please!’

Then she was gone again.

When she made her way back down the stairs, Vlad was lying in wait just out of sight, and as she zipped out into the hall, he pounced on her rear. The two stumbled, rolling and tumbling into the dining room, and then took off in a chase. For two laps around the dining room table, under and then back over the couch in the living room, and three laps around the kitchen island the cat pursued her. When he finally caught her, they both batted at one another harmlessly until Vlad took notice of Ros coming down the stairs and abandoned their game in exchange for yowling for food.

‘I made coffee!’ She proclaimed, hopping so high into the air that she cleared the top of the counter and could see the coffee pot herself. Ros wasn’t paying attention, she was looking out the window with her brows knit tightly together and a frown on her face. When Beck hopped again, Ros caught her at the peak of her jump and pulled her tightly against her chest so that Beck was forced to be still.

“What is happening?” She asked. Her tone betrayed her level of shock. 

‘Snow! Snow is here!’

“It never snows like this. Not here.” Ros protested. There was some accusation in her tone that Beck didn’t care for, despite the fact that this was indeed her fault.

‘Oh come on Ros please. Please let’s just go out in the snow.’ She wriggled in an attempt to get down, and with a sigh of discontent, Ros gently placed her back on the floor. She got her coffee, turned on the television, and fed Vlad. When Beck pleaded with her again to come outside Ros started talking about boring things like getting to work and what a hassle this was going to be for the division as she set out her breakfast. Dejected, Beck let her ears sink from their excited, perky position on her head, and left the grumpy agent to her food.

She opened the front door herself. Her dogs were both waiting with wagging tails and anxious panting that brightened her mood considerably. The three of them bounded out into the backyard at full speed into the still falling snow. By now the snow was half way up to her shoulder, and she was a whole eighteen inches tall in her fox form. It was too fresh to be properly packed, and she was forced to either plow through the snow or hop along.

Jupiter ran behind her, nipping at her tail, and they stumbled around and wrestled for a few minutes before they took to both ambushing Warden, who had been oh so excited to come outside, only to stand on the porch and keep watch. They pulled at his ears and tail until he got fed up with them both and gave a warning snap.

She was on the railing, with a coat full of ivory snowflakes, and chomping on a clump of ice when she heard the click of the doorknob and the crunch of snow underfoot behind her. Ros’ hand felt strange on her coat and she wriggled about until she discovered why; a layer of thick leather covering each of the agent’s hands. Ros wasn’t stroking her affectionately, rather dusting the small heap of snow that had settled on her back since she’d begun working on the block of ice still captured beneath her claws. It was a losing battle; with every swipe of Ros’ hand, another host of snowflakes landed on her fur once more.

‘Ros!’ She proclaimed, as if this were the very first time she’d seen her this morning and hadn’t been tearing around the house like a hellion only minutes before. The little red fox rubbed her muzzle into the snow and huffed. ‘Do you want to play in the snow? We could make snow angels, or snow men, or snow foxes–here!’

She pounced down onto the ground and went into another low bow. She scurried left, then right, then back to the center. ‘Come on! See if you can hit me. Hit me with a snowball! I bet I’m faster.’

“Don’t be ludicrous.” The agent replied, rolling her eyes as Beck darted away from her. “We’re going to be late enough as it is with the roads like this.”

Beck had taken to using a combination of magic, muzzle, and paws, to craft her own ball of snow. ‘No one is dumb enough to drive in this. Not even terrorists.’

“Beck I’m freezing come back in the–don’t you dare.” Ros had raised up a finger as the fox began to close her muzzle around the ball of snow as if she might hurl it. “I will make a coat out of you, I swear it.”

The enormous white ball of tightly packed snow flung from Beck’s muzzle, but she’d had to spin to pick up enough momentum to chuck it. So while she had been attempting to fluster Ros by throwing it against the side of the house, now it was flying right towards her. She wasn’t sure if she should run for cover or laugh until her tail fell off. 

Before Ros could move out of the way, Warden’s enormous body reared up from the porch and with one snap of his hulking jaws the snowball disappeared. He landed with a grunt, looked back at Ros, and then flopped back down into the snow as if he’d just run a marathon. 

‘That wasn’t intentional!’ But there was laughter bubbling through her plea for mercy. Laughter that was met with Ros’ frosty glare of exasperation. Unconcerned by the loathsome expression Beck hopped from the ground to a step, to a railing not far from where Ros was standing in a fairly impressive display of athleticism. She regarded the agent’s surly demeanor with the same happy-go-lucky enthusiasm that she always did.

“If I throw a snowball at you will you come back into the house?” She asked, imploring Beck with her eyes. 

'Six snowballs!’ The fox bartered, hopping in the air and seamlessly landing on the railing once more. 

“One.” Ros asserted, and Beck couldn’t decide if she was fighting off a smile or trying not to grimace. 

‘Ten!’ The fox argued, then bolted back off around the yard. She tore left and right and wove through the bushes. 

“Remind me not to involve you in any hostage negotiations.” Ros called after her, only slightly raising her voice. Beck wasn’t paying attention; she was too caught up in how beautiful the snow was as it flew around her. She was half way back to the porch when she saw the snowball. It was half the size of her face and even though she violently dug her back paws into the ground and tried to turn, it hit her square on the muzzle. But not before she heard Ros call out her name in warning. It was too late. The little fox went rolling like a cartoon character down a hill, and was only stopped by a heap of snow that had gathered along the garden wall.

“Beck.” She heard Ros call. Then she said something else. Something about her going too fast but Beck scarcely heard it. She laid sprawled onto her side, panting and letting out audible laughter. Or as close to it as she could get to it in her current form. Peels of squeaking laughter stole her breath away, and she rolled in the cold snow and reveled in the dizziness in her head. 

‘You---you hit me---right in the face!’ She yipped. Ros was beside her now, her hand was inches from Beck’s side when the fox bolted upright and scurried back. ‘Do it again!’

Beck slapped a spray of snow towards Ros with her tail and took off running again.

Over the course of the next half an hour she managed to goad Ros into throwing two more snowballs in her general direction, none of which being ask accurately aimed as the first, but astoundingly one did manage to hit her and the other only just missed. When she finally stopped her legs felt like jelly and she was madly panting for air. At which point Ros insisted she was freezing and Beck trotted into the house after her.

[fandomlife-giver]

Beware the Physical Exam!: 3

Summary: Everyone is so determined to keep Haruhi’s secret hidden while yours is on the brink of being revealed. It’s lucky that you’re smart or else everyone would know, but Kyoya is smarter than you think.

Pairing: Eventual Kyoya x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3881

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

“Mmmmhhhmmm!”

“Sorry about this, Emiko.”

After slamming the door and locking it, you removed your hand from her mouth and breathed a sigh of relief. As you turned to her, she had a confused face as to why you just shut her up and dragged her into a room.

“Um, Y/N, what was that all about? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

You placed your hands on her shoulders, feeling a bit guilty.

“Of course I’m happy to see you, Emiko. You just have really bad timing.”

She stared at you as if you just insulted her.

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you in a year and you have the audacity to tell me I have bad timing? Why are you here?”

Shaking your head, you leaned against the wall as you peeked out the small glass window on the door for any sign of someone coming.

“Listen, as long as I’m here, I have a chance to be normal-ish and have a real job, belong to a group of people who depend on me. I can’t have you here telling everyone about my past.”

Scoffing, she outstretched her arms.

“Are you demented? You have to come back. Your father put out a search warrant for you. You can’t just decide when to leave and come here of all places to be some chef for the pretty boys of Ouran Academy. And really, a chef?" 

Taking a breath, you slowly turned back around to her with seriousness in your eyes.

"It’s far better than having to deal with him. And another thing, those boys aren’t just like all the prince charmings we’ve seen before. Believe it or not, they pay attention to me and treat me the way I like to be treated, not forcing themselves on me which is nice for once.”

At this point, she was staring at you, seeing a stranger, not the girl she knew and grew up with.

“Since when did you get so prideful? With all the minutes passed, I haven’t seen one trace of who I used to know. Are you that desperate for approval that you would go this far?”

You tensed up when the small sight of Tamaki came into view as he was coming down the hallway.

“Maybe I just got tired of being poised for my father." 

Turning away, you sighed heavily and desperately grabbed her arm.

"Please, Emiko. Don’t say anything to him. This is the only freedom I’ve had for some time…please don’t take it away from me.”

*Knock* *Knock*

Her eyes flickered over to the door where Tamaki stood outside, peering in while you kept your eyes on her. It felt like forever as she looked between you and him, then closed her eyes and brushed your hands off of her. When they opened back up, they we’re filled with betrayal.

“Fine, I won’t say anything.”

She poked you in the center of your chest.

“But just remember this…what exactly will you do if they find out who you really are?”

And with that last statement, she moved away from you, opened the door and speed walked out into the hallway. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned around, catching the curious look on Tamaki’s face as he watched Emiko leave within a second.

“She didn’t look very happy. Everything all right, princess?”

His eyes moved on you and although you tried to bring a convincing smile, even he saw it was forced.

“Everything’s just fine.”

You walked out and closed the door behind you. You began going down the hall towards the clinic and he hurried to walk next to you.

“I’m here if you need to talk, you know. What kind of father would I be if one of my girls was sad?" 

The hand he placed on your shoulder made you stop and he used his other hand to gently grab your chin and lift it up to him.

"Now, why don’t you tell daddy what’s wrong?”

Twisting into an uncomfortable expression, you had disgust in your eyes.

“Um, Tamaki, you can say that to Haruhi as much as you want but please don’t say it to me. Girls can take that entirely out of context.”

And with a comforting smile, you patted his cheek and awkwardly moved away from him and continued down the hall, leaving him momentarily complex.

“Take it out of context…?”

After a few seconds, his face went pale white in realization and a red blush came on his cheeks.

“Oh…”

******

The very first step into the room made you freeze. Eyes widened at the sight of an entire assembly line of workers ready to undress the persons who dared to walk over the threshold. You instantly felt uncomfortable.

Tamaki came in a few seconds after you with his hands on his hips and when he noticed your blank state, he tilted his head.

“What is it? It’s just a physical exam.”

You rose an eyebrow at him as he gave one last smile and started towards one of the tents. Glancing around, you felt a little out of place because you had no idea where you were supposed to go but lucky for you, several employees noticed you standing around and with a large smile on their faces, they all stalked towards you at the same time.

Feeling like a bunny surrounded by foxes, you slowly began to back away, but when they came forward and one of them managed to catch you by the wrist, you knew it was too late.

“Miss Kitahara, please come with us, we’ll have you seated in a closed off room from all the male students.”

Gently holding on to your arms, two women led you towards the hallway and out of the room while another woman placed an arm on your back as she went over a quick summary of what they’d do. As it happened, you merely nodded with an occasional “Okay”. 

As you neared the exit, you saw from the corner of your eye what looked like Tamaki pulling Haruhi into a tent from behind and definitely catching her off guard.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight of it. 

Oh no, what is he planning now?

You were completely unaware of the sharp eyes watching you from afar.

“Are you both ready now?”

Buttoning up the last few buttons on their shirts, the twins popped up beside him and smirked.

“Ready when you are, Senpai.”

Nodding, Kyoya hummed. 

“You know what to do. And try to not catch any unwanted attention.”

They fist bumped and started after you, successfully keeping out of every other girl’s sight as they discretely left the room. Kyoya pushed his glasses up and turned to go over to where he was needed, until a doctor bumped into his side. As Kyoya turned and got a good look at the doctor, he furrowed his brows at the very messy state he was in unlike the other doctors. Mumbling an apology, he quickly walked off.

“No problem.”

Tilting his head up, he watched him go in curiosity.

“Huh.” ******

Sighing very irritably, Haruhi was on the floor ready to give up since Tamaki’s little swicheroo plan where he would pretend to be her didn’t work, mostly because the idea was a prank by the twins.

She looked up when a hand was placed on her shoulder and she saw Kyoya smiling down at her.

“Haruhi, you ready? I went ahead and set up a separate room for you, a special boys’ clinic. And I have a doctor standing by sworn to secrecy.”

Tamaki had been standing in the corner, arms crossed as he was still recovering from the embarrassing display of an idea he just endured.

“It turns out the doctors here today are all on staff at one of Kyoya-Senpai’s family’s hospitals.”

He threw a hard glare in his direction.

“Would’ve been nice if he had said something to us earlier.”

 He only smiled innocently as Tamaki narrowed his eyes.

******

“Come on, sis. We’re just curious.”

Hikaru batted his eyelashes as Kaoru shrugged and tilted his head.

“We wanna know more about you, you are our sister, of course. Just one little fact?”

“Go away.”

They hid the frustration from their voices.

“Why won’t you just tell us something? It only makes us that more determined to find out, you know.”

The door cracked open a sliver just enough for your face to pop through and throw an icy stare at them.

“I’m a little busy at the moment. If you don’t leave right now, you won’t get any food I make for the club for a month.”

They both instantly froze up and with defeated sighs, they turned and began walking away from the room. Exhaling in relief, you closed the door, but after a few seconds of it slowly closing, a male hand stopped it and pushed it open.

******

“I’m telling the truth!”

At the sound of the terrified voice, all heads of the members (minus Haruhi) turned and they went outside the tent to see what was going on. What they were greeted with was a girl on the floor, all the other girls surrounding her as she talked up to a man.

“One of the doctor’s grabbed me by the shoulder. He was trying to make a pass at me! I’ve never been so terrified!”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses. "I had a feeling this might happen.“

They all turned their attention to him and Honey spoke up.

"What do you mean?”

He placed a closed hand under his chin as he thought back.

“A bit earlier today, I saw a strange man wearing a white lab coat but clearly not one of our hospital’s doctors and I thought he was a little odd.”

The twins looked to each other, then outstretched their arms.

“Shouldn’t you have said something sooner?”

He chuckled and waved the entire thought away.

“Oh well, it’s no big deal, I’m sure the security guard will catch him.”

“Tell me miss, did you happen to notice where the pervert doctor was headed?”

“Yes, sir. He ran off towards’ the special boys’ clinic.”

It was at that moment that they all went white once the information fully sunk in, then they all looked to the direction the room Haruhi was in.

“Haruhi!”

******

The sound of the door opening caused Haruhi to jump and quickly cover herself just as all the members ran into the small tent inside the room.

“Haruhi, I’ll save you!”

It took them a good twenty seconds of scanning the room to realize the culprit was not in the room and Tamaki turned to Haruhi’s shocked face at their sudden entrance.

“Uh…what are you guys doing in here?”

Grabbing onto her shoulders, Tamaki furiously shook her.

“Are you okay? Did a man with terrible looks put his hands on you?!”

She was growing even more confused.

“Well, uh…when I came in here, a man was running out of the room if he’s what you mean.”

Kyoya stepped forward.

“Do you know where he was going?”

She pointed to her right.

“He ran down the hall towards another private room, the girls’ one I think.”

Kyoya went still and took a deep breath.

“This isn’t good.”

Honey pulled on his pants leg.

“What’s wrong, Kyoya?”

He ran a hand over his face.

“The private rooms are reserved for our Host club only. Who’s the only other girl in our club?”

It took them less than a minute for everything to click and when it did, the twins both dropped their jaws as everyone screeched.

“Y/N!”

******

Your skirt and top dropped to the floor just as the sound of a door closing hit your ears. Your head snapped around and with your curiosity getting the best of you, you pulled away to the tent and stepped out. At the sight of an unfamiliar man with messy hair, you felt very self conscious but once he turned around, your eyes widened.

The second he noticed another person in the room, he turned, ran over and placed a hand over your mouth.

“Please, it’s not what you think! Just keep quiet!”

There was a good amount of awkward silence in the room with your wide eyes on him, and it wasn’t for the reasons he thought.

“…Dr. Yabu?”

His body visibly tensed up and slowly, he moved his hand away from your mouth and got a good look at you. Realization came soon and he was stepping away from you, apologizing when it did.

“M-Miss Y/N?! I didn’t know it was you! Please don’t mention this to your father, he might fire me or worse if he finds out.”

You smiled sweetly at him.

“Dr. Yabu, why on earth are you here? You’re presence might cause some trouble around here.”

He shook his head, putting a hand up to rub his eyes. Slowly, he stepped forward and placed his hands on your cheeks.

“Can you please help me? I’m very lost right now. I didn’t mean to-”

“Y/N!”

His head turned and you let out a small gasp when Tamaki ran into the room and while yelling out something very corny, he did a flying side kick which resulted in Yabu being slammed up against the wall.

“Tama-Chan kick!”

Your jaw dropped and you covered your mouth, silently hoping he was all right as Tamaki landed right in front of you. Out of the corners of your eyes, you could see the twins standing protectively beside you with serious expressions.

“One. Good looks that attract the public eye.”

What?

“Two.”

You glanced behind them and saw Kyoya, an evil smirk on his face as he shut the door.

“More wealth than you can imagine.”

Uh…

Your hair flew in your face as Mori appeared out of nowhere behind you.

“Three. A chivalry that will never be able to overlook–”

You slightly jumped as Honey suddenly came in front of him.

“–the hideous wickedness of this world.”

The heck?

The feeling of cloth covering you made you look up and you realized Tamaki had taken off his shirt and placed it over your exposed body by gently throwing it on your head which exposed him while he walked ahead of you to stare down the man he just kicked into the freaking wall.

Haruhi was standing off in the corner of the room watching everything unfold and trying to stay out of it as much as possible.

Tamaki rose up his head with confidence displaying all over him. 

“That’s what makes up the Ouran Host club.”

Together, their voices all boomed.

“We’re here, watch out!”

What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On?!

Yabu’s eyes went panicked with fear as he threw his arms up in defense.

“Please don’t hurt me! Spare me my life!”

You took the moment of silence to inspect the group of men (and Haruhi) that was now surrounding you and you felt oddly protected but still beyond confused as to why they were all here and why Tamaki just made a grown man cry.

Yabu dropped his arms to his sides and gazed down to the floor.

“I’m a doctor. I have a small emergency medical clinic that I run in the next town over. My name is Yabu.”

Hikaru tilted his head.

“Did he say his name’s Yabu?”

Kaoru shrugged in disbelief.

“That’s crazy! What a terrible name for a doctor.”

And they both shared a look.

“Unless you’re a quack.”

He sighed in disappointment and looked up at everyone, but mostly towards you.

“I know, I’m here because I was hoping to see my daughter. My wife left me last month and took my daughter with her, but I know she attends school here.”

Haruhi rose up a curious hand.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but why did your wife leave you?”

His lip quivered as he told the story of his wife being angry at the fact he gave away another I-Owe-You and you knew automatically who it was because he had told you this story before. You glanced down the floor in shame at the thought of your father being the one responsible.

“And that was it, they left me forever. I know I’m terrible at managing our money and I can’t say no to anybody. I don’t blame them for being tired of constantly living in debt. But I wanted to see my daughter one more time so I came here. After being pelted by rain and wandering the streets, I finally made it to your school.”

He brought a hand to his forehead in despair.

“Once I entered, I was mistaken for a doctor here to examine students.”

Hikaru had a bored look on his face.

“Well, of course, you’re wearing a lab coat.”

Kaoru was also unimpressed.

“Anyone would’ve mistaken you.”

You momentarily gave them a look as he continued his story of being also mistaken for a pedophile and they only shrugged in response to your look.

When you returned your attention back to him, you were very surprised to see him and Tamaki on the floor crying together.

You began feeling worse for him, so you stepped forward and knelt down to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Dr. Yabu, I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through, but I think you have the wrong place. Are you looking for Ouran public high school?”

He stopped his crying to look up at you with wet tears still on his cheeks.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Smiling warmly, you lightly giggled.

“I thought so. Dr., this is Ouran Academy, a private school. I’m sorry, but your daughter doesn’t go here.”

His face went red with embarrassment and realization at his mistake.

“Man, that’s pretty sad. You don’t even know what school you’re daughter goes to?”

“I bet you’re relationship is messed up because you don’t pay any attention to her.”

Turning your head, you shot another glare at the twins and they instantly stopped smiling at their own comments.

Honey appeared right beside you with adoration in his eyes.

“Wow, Y/N-Chan! I’m impressed that you figured out he had the wrong school.”

Your mind went black as you tried to come up with an excuse very quickly, but luckily, Kyoya swooped in with a snarky comment.

“Well, there’s no way a daughter of such a small time doctor would ever be able to get into Ouran Academy.”

You and Haruhi shared the same annoyed look towards him.

“Kyoya.”

You glanced back over at Tamaki as he stared down at Yabu .

“Would you please find a map of all the public schools in this area? I’d like to help this man find his daughter.”

Your eyes softened as you stared at him and you caught the sarcasm in Kyoya’s voice as he responded.

“Whatever you say.”

And as he walked off, Yabu stood and followed after him, eager to find out.

******

You all waited patiently for them to return and as you did, Honey ran over to where you were sitting. Pausing with a spoon full of ice cream in your mouth, you rose your head to him, placed the pint of ice cream beside you and smiled.

“Y/N-Chan, why was Dr. Yabu afraid of your dad?”

At that moment, you felt your heart stop and you tried to hide your surprise.

W-What? He heard that? Crap, if he heard, then what if everyone else heard too and just isn’t saying anything? Calm down, Y/N, stop. You can handle this.

Forcibly pulling a wider smile, you leaned down to him and grabbed the pint of ice cream.

“I’ll tell you what, Honey…how would you like an entire half a pint of ice cream all to yourself?”

His eyes lit up, a smile forming on his face.

“Really?!”

You rubbed his cheeks with your thumb and whispered into his ear.

“But you have to promise me that you’ll forget all about what you heard in this room between me and Dr. Yabu or else I’ll be very sad. Okay, Honey?”

He vigorously nodded his head.

“Okay! I promise, Y/N-Chan!”

Smiling in relief, you handed him the pint and in a split second, he was running off back to Mori where he chowed down on his bribe.

At that moment, Kyoya came back in and you stood as he stalked over to the window. You all gathered around him and peered down, watching Yabu walk through the school’s gates and towards the right school.

Hikaru watched in uneasiness.

“Are you sure about this?”

Kaoru smiled wearily.

“After all, even if he does find his daughter, there’s no guarantee that she’ll want to speak to him.”

Tamaki had a determined look in his eyes as he watched him go out of sight.

“Well then, that’s something he’ll have to find out for himself.”

After a good moment of silence after that, you pulled Tamaki’s shirt around you tighter and awkwardly glanced at them.

“I’m sorry about this you guys but could you please leave?”

They all turned their attention to you in horror as if they had offended you and felt guilty.

Tamaki’s eyes went wide with desperation.

“Y/N, are you still angry with us for not thinking of you? You’re not thinking of quitting the Host club, are you?!”

Kyoya’s eyes even went wide.

“You’re smart enough to know how much we value you here. We wouldn’t run without your cooking skills, after all. If it’ll persuade you, you won’t be required to dress up and I’ll even throw in a few pints of ice cream.”

An amused giggle came out of you as turned your gaze to them with a blush on your cheeks at the thought of more ice cream.

“You both are so stupid, I just need to finish my physical exam. As a member of Ouran, of course.”

You turned your body to them to catch the satisfying smile on Kyoya’s face and the still concerned face of Tamaki’s.

“To clear everything up, though, I don’t want you thinking I’m doing this for a delicious dessert.”

Closing your eyes, you smiled brightly.

“I’m doing it to pay back my debt!”

In a matter of seconds, the twins sandwiched you into a hug. You let out a yelp as they smothered you with kisses on your cheeks.

“Aw, sis, you’re so cute!”

“Ahh! Stop it! Let go of me!”

“We can see right through you, we know you just want to stay here with us.”

“Cut it out, boys! Stop! Hey, don’t touch me there!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll never make you feel ignored again! We love you, sis!”

As they suffocated you with affection, Kyoya took the moment to look down at Honey.

“Honey-Senpai.”

He paused his eating to return Kyoya’s look with chocolate around his lips.

“So, what did she say?”

He tilted his head.

“About what? She gave me ice cream, want some?”

Kyoya politely turned down Honey’s offer and moved his quizzical gaze back over to you, silently wandering what connection you had to Dr. Yabu and why he was so terrified of your father.

Who exactly are you, Y/N Kitahara?

[allthislve]

MISS MISSING YOU

We were walking home from the city pool, chlorine kisses on our summer skin. She stopped when we reached the end of my driveway. “I have to talk to you.” I didn’t know it yet, but I missed her as soon as she said it, even though she was still standing next to me. I miss her now, in my hotel bed somewhere in the city.

At least missing her hurts less now. The hole she left in me as her hot whiskey eyes let me down one last time doesn’t feel like a knife wound. More like a bullet hole, an empty space where she used to be. I miss missing her, the two days after when all I could do was cry, when it hurt so much I couldn’t take it but at least I felt. Now, even the neon lights of the city can’t fill the space she left. I’m trying my best to be okay now that she’s gone, but I don’t think that will happen anytime soon.

The thing is, I almost thought it would last. I knew we were young and she was always spinning away from commitment and responsibility, but I loved her. She was my picket fence, my future, someone I thought would be forever. But nothing ever lasts forever. I should’ve known that before.

Maybe I want to forget about her, to wash myself off until I can’t remember her touching me, to cut my hair after she said she loved it, to throw away the dress I was wearing the first time she kissed me. No. I want to remember, to remind myself that I will heal. I just want to stop loving her, for that year we were together to leave my heart. I want to fall apart and to hold myself together and to move on and to disappear. I want things to go back to the way they were and for “the way they were” to never have happened at all. I don’t know what I want. I don’t want to forget her, but I never want to see her face again. The memory of her words hits me like she pointed a gun at me and pulled the trigger. I would have taken a bullet for her. I guess in a way I did.

 ALONE TOGETHER

             I came to the city to get away from it all, for a few days where no one knew who I was and I didn’t have to remember her every time I turned a corner. I don’t know where I’ll go next. It won’t be back home, though. I’m not even close to ready for that. At least here I can disappear into the crowd, another nameless, faceless person passing by. That’s what I’m doing the next day, after I leave the hotel and come to a coffee shop, one downtown where people come and go enough that I feel hidden. Well, I did, until a tall, dark-haired young man sits in the seat across the table from me.

           “You look like you could use some company.” He says this as he sits down. I don’t answer, but he keeps sitting there, even as I ignore him. This goes on for a few minutes until I take off my headphones and glare at him.

           “What do you want? I’m kind of doing something here, and it’s not waiting around to talk to you.” I’m half glad he interrupted, though. I was listening to our old favorite band. They “went on hiatus” a while ago, but she never stopped listening to them, and when we met, she got me into their music, too. I told myself to stop listening to them after she left, but it hasn’t worked yet.

           “I want…” He trails off, and for a second I think he’s going to leave it there, but he doesn’t. “Let’s be alone together.” He smiles, and he’s a little irresistible when he does that, and even though I know this is the worst idea I’ve ever had and neither of us know anything about the other, I say:

           “Okay.”

 DEATH VALLEY

             Three hours later, we’re driving towards the desert. I’ve checked out of the hotel, the last little piece of familiarity I had left. I used to stay there when my parents took me into the city as a kid. It’s sad to leave, for some reason. But I’m excited, too. We’re driving, and I don’t know where we’re going, but he tells me his name is Phoenix and he and some of his friends live out here.

           I think about living in the desert. It’s full of impossibilities. The cacti that hold water even when it hasn’t rained in ages, the scorpions and snakes and foxes that burrow in holes to catch the last bit of cool air as the sun scorches their entire world. I like the idea. It makes me feel like I am doing the impossible, too. After all, I too am living out here. Suddenly, I feel a tiny sliver of that bullet hole filling up with the sandy, empty desert.

           Two hours after that, the hole fills up just a little bit more as we reach Phoenix’s camp in the desert. He didn’t say much on the way here, but now he parks in the sand and springs out to greet his friends. He introduces me to them: Adder, a pretty girl with long dark hair; Peter, also known as St. Peter because he “plays it very, very safe” as Phoenix says; and Faith, who has red hair that burns like sunlight on the sand. I don’t feel like I belong with them at all, but I want to stay and pretend I do for as long as I can.

 YOUNG VOLCANOES

             I’m learning a lot about life in the desert. You think of it as harsh, dry, a wasteland. And yes, it’s all of those things. But it’s beautiful, more beautiful than I can remember the city ever being. Not as beautiful as her, though.

           I can’t think about that, not right now. Instead, Faith is lighting a fire that burns like her hair. Adder is leaning against the building they’ve found shelter in, watching with her dark, bottomless eyes. Phoenix is showing off to Peter, holding a burning branch until the flames start to lick at his hand and he drops it back on the pile. I’ve faded into the background for the moment, lost in thought, but now I stand up and walk over Adder. She’s beautiful in the combination of sunset and firelight that washes our piece of the desert.

           It reminds me of the active volcanoes we used to watch on tape in elementary school, and I tell Adder this. It’s the kind of thing I would have thought of but never said to her. She would have laughed and thought less of me for it, but Adder tilts her head back before answering.

           “Newer than volcanoes, though. They’re around for millennia; this is just tonight.”

           I nod. “Young volcanoes, then. That’s what we are.”

 WHERE DID THE PARTY GO?

             It was a long night, but not the kind where you wish it was over and you could close your eyes. It was one of those where you never want it to end, where you wish it would reach into eternity. But the fire burned down eventually. The air got cold and we curled up like foxes in the building they call home.

           It’s just before dawn when I open my eyes and see Phoenix urgently shaking my shoulder. Then I see the unfamiliar lights outside. They have to be headlights, and we’re in the middle of an empty desert. It’s hard not to start panicking, but then Phoenix grabs my hand and runs. I run with him. There’s nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. I don’t know where the others are for a second, but then I see Faith’s hair ahead of us and I have to believe Peter and Adder are with her. I’ve only known them for a few weeks, but they’re all I have. We’re almost a family now.

           I wish it were a few hours ago, when we were dancing around in the firelight, our feet moving lightly across the sand instead of sinking in and slowing us down as we try to sprint. I know the car’s going to catch us long before it does, but I run with them anyway. I run and I run until I fall, just as the car pulls up and I’m surrounded by girls wearing black leather, who pull me and the rest of the runners into the car. I pass out as the tires send sand flying up around the windows.

[ms-riotti]

Listen up, ladies. This man is now our president. What you see above is merely a sliver of the misogyny that has spewed from his mouth -- and the thing is, it was mostly recorded in interviews and publicly posted feeds. If that’s how he speaks on camera, God knows what terrible things he says off the record. Over the years he has made so many hateful remarks towards women, so many degrading comments that I really have to wonder how any woman in her right mind could support his presidency. But the deed is done. I am not here to bash on female Trump voters. I am here to unite those of us who give a damn about our rights and our status. 

Women of America:

We now face an era where our very own rights and freedom will be challenged. Those who follow under Trump more than likely share his views about us. To them, we are just ‘pieces of ass’ waiting to be judged for our appearances. To them, our achievements mean nothing. To them, our rights mean nothing. I fear that this will send us back several years by means of women’s rights. I dread the day that I am told I should be a good little housewife.

There are some of Trump’s policies that will affect us directly. Namely, reproductive rights. I understand that not everyone is in favor of access to abortion and contraceptives. However, multiple studies have shown that organizations like Planned Parenthood have helped tremendously to reduce abortion rates through sex education and access to birth control.

Trump wants to completely ban abortion, with exceptions only for rape, incest, or when the life of the woman is in danger. He's backed this up by showing support for a ban on abortion after 20 weeks of pregnancy.

Trump says he'll make it a priority to repeal the Affordable Care Act. The ACA has made it possible for millions of people to get health insurance that includes coverage for birth control at no additional cost and prenatal care.

Trump would have preferred to shut down the government rather than fund Planned Parenthood. Planned Parenthood provides low-cost family-planning services, cancer screenings, and other health care to millions of people every year.

Trump has pledged to nominate anti-choice justices to the Supreme Court. He reiterated this promise to Bill O'Reilly after becoming the presumptive GOP nominee. This could destroy access to reproductive health care for generations.

Mike Pence said he wants to see Roe v. Wade on "the ash heap of history", and has a long record of attacking reproductive freedom in his state.

In His Own Words

Donald Trump has made his opposition to reproductive freedom clear.

Trump said there should be "some sort of punishment" for women who seek abortion if it were outlawed.

Here's Trump's absurd justification for opposing a health exception for his abortion bans: "The problem with [saying health] is, what, you have a cold and you're having an abortion?"

He's said of Planned Parenthood, "It is like an abortion factory, frankly."

But that's not all. We've never seen a presidential candidate who judges and insults women the way Donald Trump does.

Trump bragged that he could sexually assault women.

Despite Hillary Clinton's extensive record of public service, Trump accused her of playing the gender card, saying, "Frankly, if Hillary Clinton were a man, I don't think she'd get five percent of the vote. The only thing she's got going is the women's card."

Trump won't have mothers' backs. He told a breastfeeding mother, "You're disgusting!" and forced a mother with a crying baby to leave a rally.

FOX News anchor Megyn Kelly asked Trump about previous misogynistic comments. He responded by calling her unprofessional and said, "You could see there was blood coming out of her eyes, blood coming out of her wherever."

Trump questioned Carly Fiorina's qualifications to be president, saying "Look at that face! Would anyone vote for that? Can you imagine that, the face of our next president?"

On his reality TV show Celebrity Apprentice, Trump quipped about a female businesswoman, "Must be a pretty picture, you dropping to your knees."

Ladies, please. If this doesn’t sway you, what will? Will you follow Trump even if he takes away something as drastic as our right to vote? Our right to work? I’m not saying it will come to this. However, I am very concerned that this man, our president, is not right for us. Keep in mind that this post only includes his views and policies on women. Other points of concern are his history with national affairs (they guy is literally fucking banned from a country that was literally one of our best allies, and is coming closed to being banned from several more!), and his racist views on Mexicans (he has accused all of them of being murderers and rapists). I could keep throwing out proof that he is not fit to be a leader of any kind, but it’s up to you, the people of America -- the women of America -- to open your eyes and realize that there has to be somebody better than him who can run our country. Someone who can make America great again.

Sources

America, NARAL Pro-Choice. "Donald Trump on Reproductive Rights and Women's Equality."NARAL Pro-Choice America. N.p., n.d. Web. 20 Jan. 2017.

Cohen, Claire. "Donald Trump Sexism Tracker: Every Offensive Comment in One Place." The Telegraph. Telegraph Media Group, 20 Jan. 2017. Web. 20 Jan. 2017. 

[aclutchofstars]

Things To Remember

I was day dreaming of Mexico. That’s how it began. We had just returned from Canter’s Deli, giddy on pickles and coffee. I laid on the couch, wrapped myself in our furry blanket and watched the images roll through my mind. Images that seemed to be from long ago, maybe from another life, almost forgotten. They were fragments of a place I’d never been to but were somehow collected and recalled like a memory: The faded cobalt and rosey colored adobe homes. The wild aloe plants scattered across the arid landscape. A family of white-tailed deer roaming in the violet mountains. There were smokey sunsets and cotton sheets swaying on the line. The church bells were booming at midday and I could see gypsy horses wandering through the desert, tragic and muscular. There was the salty taste of clay in my mouth and the cool earth beneath my always bare feet. There were dirt stains beneath my finger tips, and callouses on my hands. And somewhere in the distance a train was going by.

These are my thoughts in the days unfolding into the new year. I pull myself from the clouds and begin searching for plane tickets. Maybe I’m supposed to go there. But my finger tips do not lead me to Mexico. Instead, something else is calling to me. I find myself searching for a dog and I don’t know why. The first site I find, I show it to Greg and right away he zeros in on this one. She looks like a cross between a baby deer and a fox and a sweet potato. Her eyes look like they have been lined in Egyptian kohl and they seem to know something we don’t. She is something ancient and something innocent and we knew right then that we had to go and meet this creature.

On the car ride to the shelter we tell ourselves over and over that this doesn’t have to mean anything, that we don’t have to make any decisions. But we had already named her. Zuzu. After Jimmy Stewart’s daughter in the movie It’s A Wonderful Life. We call it our desert island movie - the one we’d choose if we were stuck on an island and could only watch one movie over and over.

We pull up to the address on Fairfax and there we are, right next to Canter’s all over again. This was no coincidence. We go in and there she is - perched on a little coffee table completely calm amidst all the chaos around her.  A man is sitting beside her and I practically shove him out of the way for fear he is thinking of claiming her. She belongs to us, this much I know. We learn that she and her siblings were picked up only a few days before from a kill shelter in a small town just north of Los Angeles called Tulare.

We begin the process of adopting her but are told we will have to return the next day to complete it. Since it wasn’t all the way official yet, we decide it best not to tell anyone. But later that night while having wine at Kerri and Ryan’s, it just bursts right out of us. Kerri has to drop off clothes for work in Hollywood in the morning and offers to drive us to Zuzu, and of course we say yes.

The next morning and the last day of 2016, Kerri picks us up and off we go. It’s still raining a little but the streets are filled with a jittery energy, everyone running around and getting ready for their New Years parties. When we arrive, Zuzu is waiting on the coffee table again. I scoop her up into my arms and she kisses my face recognizing me. I can hear Kerri in the background saying in her girly high pitched voice “You’re going home today, you’re going home today”. And so she was.

We were so joyful in those first days and it feels as if she is a kind of symbol that there is a transition on the horizon, that time is passing in the most exquisite way. She rode in on the wings of Christmas spirit and with the new year she ushered us into a new life. Everything was changed because we had to care for this little thing, because we had to put something else before ourselves. What an honor it was.

When the doctor tells us Zuzu is sick I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. I take that look and I fold it up. I put it my pocket, not to be looked at again. I let Greg tell me over and over again that she will get better because she has to get better. I choose to shut out the doubt. I choose to believe we can heal her with our love.

Over the next few days her health worsens but every morning she is happy to see us. She jumps on the bed and cuddles and you can just feel her love. And that was the lesson I understood right away - to open your eyes and to look at the world and to look at the ones you love and to feel happy.

The three of us  are standing in the twilight of Los Feliz watching the lavender haze burning over the mountains and slipping through the palm trees. I can see the worry in Greg’s eyes though he won’t say it aloud and I feel more in love with him then ever. My soul is trembling with uncertainty but I am content to stand in the grass of this old desert town with it’s tropical heart. I am content to do nothing but exist in this moment forever with these two beings whom I love. These two beings I have chosen and who have chosen me.

In the morning we have to rush her back to the hospital and we are left suspended in the obscurity of fear, grappling for comfort. It’s a strange type of despair, all dark with just a sliver of light hanging in the balance, watching our every move. The reservoir of hope is slipping from my reach and I feel at fault for not being able to access the Great Spirit. Guilty for not being stronger or more hopeful.

When they finally call us two days later to tell us we can bring her home, Greg is at work so I ask Kerri to come with me. We drive down to Slauson Avenue past the train tracks and near the swap meet. It’s overcast and the clinic is smelly and grim but the people who work there are tireless and kind.

The nurse brings Zuzu out and puts her into my arms and she is so frail that I hardly recognize her. We get her home and she goes right to her little green bean bag and curls up. I don’t have to ask Kerri to stay with me, she just does. We give Zuzu a sponge bath and get a system down where Kerri holds open Zu’s little mouth and I administer the drops of medicine with a tiny plastic syringe. We have to do this every 15 minutes and in-between doses we pet her and tell her how good she is and we never leave her side. When she sits up and has a coughing fit Kerri holds out her hands to catch the throw up and stop it from falling on our rug. And in this moment, I float up and watch it happening from above and I can see life: precious and messy and broken but so full of love. This image has stayed with me - Kerri’s open palms shooting outward. A pure, instinctual act of selflessness. That afternoon our friendship shifted a little, this wasn’t just my friend, this was my family.

Later Lindsay stops by bringing Zuzu an Indian prayer shawl for protection. We wrap it around the bean bag and place pieces of rose quartz around her too. Around 6pm Ryan shows up with food and wine and Kerri and I eat for the first time that day while Ryan plays guitar for Zuzu.

Finally it’s evening and Greg returns from work. I can’t bare the look on his face when he see’s how weak she is. We tell him how much better she seems from when we had first picked her up and we all feel hopeful.

After everyone has gone home we stay up for a while singing more songs to Zuzu. Greg plays guitar and I rub her ears and we sing The Weight by The Band but we change the words to “take a load off Zuzu”.

Around 1am we bring pillows and blankets to the couch and lay down. Zuzu is on her bean bag right beside us. It’s cold so we wrap her in the prayer shawl. After a moment she sits up suddenly and gives us this look as if she is making sure we are both still there. We pet her and tell her that we are. Then we shut the lights and fall into a deep sleep.

Just before 3am, we are awoken by a sound. We put our hands on Zuzu and she breathes a few heavy sighs. Beneath my hands there is a stillness. For a moment the energy feels contained, then it dissipates and you just know. You don’t expect to recognize it but right away you do. After that, I crumbled. Swallowed up by chaos. I don’t remember much except for Greg holding me and picking me up off the floor.

When I had calmed down enough, we go to her. We kiss her and wrap her in our Mexican blanket. We light candles and make a shrine of all her things and we stay there with her body for a long while listening to the rain pouring down outside. The lights flicker a little and then finally the morning light begins to soak through the night. In the late morning we call a service to come pick up her body. The woman who arrives gives us each a big strong hug and we watch her drive away until we can’t see her anymore. We go inside and sit down on the couch and the window suddenly bursts open in a way that it never has before. We look at each other and we know she is free.

That evening Melonie arrives with a bundle of flowers and chocolate and wine and lets me talk about it as much or as little as I need to. She says we were chosen by Zuzu to help her get to the next place and I take great comfort in this. Kerri and Ryan show up with homemade food. More friends come with flowers and we all just sit on the floor listening to records and holding a sort of vigil. Looking back it seems as if everything that happened was a ceremony of preparation. A holy readying that we had been called upon to oversee.

Oh Loss. What are you? And if you aren’t really there why do you feel so heavy?

There are moments when I am able pull myself from the chambers of absence and I really don’t feel sorry for us. I feel lucky and I feel grateful. For all of it. This tiny creature arrived and with her a big stormy love was swept in. With what was broken came the shattering of magic and that which was ordinary is now sacred. Stale diner coffee with your lover becomes a goblet of holy water and I am reminded that this was all I ever really wanted. In these days of strange uncertainty I have been shaken awake and reminded that it was always love and only love that matters in this crazy old world. Love is not a number or a size or a weight or a color. It does not belong to anything or anyone in particular. It is infinite and wild and it grows when you feed it. It is happiness every morning even when your body is failing. It is the strangers to whom we are cosmically bound, the ones who we make our family. It is the person who is picking you up off the floor because you are too sad to stand on your own feet. It is the look in his eyes that is saying everything will be ok. It is palms outreaching to catch your pain without you having to ask.