#almost cool clothes weather too! rejoice!

[moonstoneistired]

I hate everything a little less when the weather is good for me to go on a silly little walk and perhaps touch leaves and kick rocks and smell flowers and get blinded by the sun and feel a breeze and

[euphoriarps]

❊ ◜ORLANDO.// weather

general //. those who have never made the great pilgrimage to florida often associate the sunshine state with, well, sunshine. they imagine a tropical paradise where they can frolic through disneyworld, contentedly eating a mickey bar and taking wall pictures for the `gram. the reality of the matter is, florida is not the paradise that so many think it to be. and those cute disney instagramers? they thank god for face tune to hide just how fucking awful they feel. the moment you leave the orlando international airport, it feels like chuck norris became the human embodiment of heat and punched you in the face. while there are occasional periods of reasonable temperatures, they are punctuated by a lot of rain and devestating heat and humidity that leaves many a newcomer experiencing this lovely thing called heat stroke. let us dive further into florida's imaginary "seasons." hurricane season //. hurricane season runs from june the first to november the thirtieth. it is during this time that florida's weather is the true embodiment of hell's front porch. on a normal day, temperatures can range anywhere from the high eighties to the low one hundreds with humidity that leaves things feeling like it's twenty degrees hotter than they actually are. those that have keyless start up for their cars are thankful during the summer time, as they can get the a/c in their car going before they get in. for the plebs that do not have those privileges? they have to hachachachacha their way into their car and start the car and get their seatbelt on without burning off all of their skin. and for those of you with leather interiors? you're basically fucked. june and july are certainly hot, but they're not unbearable. morning time is reasonably comfortable, and you can almost certainly guarantee that there will be an afternoon rain storm sometime between the hours of 1PM and 4PM. the period fo time in which it rains varies, it can be anywhere from downpouring for fifteen straight minutes or raining light enough to be an inconvenience for four whole hours. it is a truly floridian thing to place an umbrella into your car, and then to never actually use the umbrella because it rains so frequently that you give up on lugging the umbrella everywhere. during the more dramatic of thunderstorms that occur during the summertime, the thunder can get so intense that it can shake houses and apartment buildings. roads will flood, and everyone will mysteriously decide to turn on their flashers and drive thirty miles over the speed limit on the interstate. because for being a state where it's always raining, nobody actually knows how to properly drive in the rain. most of the tropical storms and hurricanes that form in the atlantic end up affecting florida in some way, shape, or form. in instances of the outer bands brushing up against the state, it'll prompt the usual amount of rain. nothing too shocking or devestating. life will go on as it usually does. if a category 1 to a mid tier category 3 storm threatens to hit the state, floridians will rejoice as work and school are cancelled and go buy out the entirety of the liquor aisle to ride out the storm. "hurricane parties" are a legitimate thing in florida. no exaggeration. for an upper tier category 3 storm to a category 5 storm, floridians will act like it is the appocalypse and will effectively buy thousands of dollars of supplies. for those non native to florida, they typically fall into the "act like it's the appocalypse" category no matter what the level of storm is. they'll barricade themselves in their house or their apartment until after they've done the hurricane thing a few times and then it becomes normal. if you thought the heat before the rain was bad, the heat after the rain is exponentially worse. the humidity increases tenfold and you're not only wet from rain, you're wet from sweat that largely feels you leaving like a drowned rat. the worst of the florida summer is august and september. the heat and humidity can get so bad that it feels like you are venturing outside into soup. the air is thick, and sticky, and forget looking cute because you are guaranteed to have swamp ass two seconds into leaving the air conditioning. influencers and beauty gurus have to pump hundreds of dollars into luxury setting sprays to keep their faces from melting off, and frizzy haired chic may as well become a trend during this time of year. the recommendations for surviving the heat, the rain, the hurricane season? drink water. now drink more water. now drink even more water. find a hurricane buddy, someone that has grown up in florida and can recommend the best brand of tequila to make hurricane margaritas with. keep several changes of clothes and shoes in your car for the inevitable downpour, maybe consider using that umbrella for a change? who am i kidding, we all know it's worth it. and, of course, drink . fucking . water. sfall and swinter //. the end of hurricane season (october and november), and december through february be labeled sfall or swinter ... essentially, slightly less bad summer punctuated by occasional and surprising cold fronts. if the temperature drops below seventy five degrees, that is when you'll see floridians pulling out the knit sweaters, thick hoodies, and the uggs. non-floridians will question what on earth is wrong with them as they are standing their in their t-shirts and flip flops enjoying the fact that they don't feel like death for once. these tiny dips in temperature, however, will typically last all of two to four days before it spikes right back up to being eighty five degrees with humidity making it feel like it's ninety eight again. you see why it's sfall? because it's still summer. late december through february can get a little more brr. temperatures will briefly drop anywhere from the low fifties all the way into the upper twenties depending on the cold front and where it is coming from. the orange groves will threaten to ice over, floridians will descend upon target to purchased puffed jackets to insulate themselves, and the non-floridians will once more question their sanity levels. florida cold should be identified as a wet cold, the humidity having a similar effect to the cold as it does with the heat. it makes it feel colder. factor in the fact that the cold times are also windy with a wet sort of wind chill and it goes highly recommended that you at least wear a light jacket. florida does sometimes have bizarre cold fronts where it'll be thirty eight degrees at 8AM and then by 2PM it is in the mid-eighties. it is always recommended that you plan your "warmer" outfits with layers that can be taken off to reveal layers more suited for the summer. or just carry a change of clothes and shoes in your car. and drink . fucking . water. the pollening //. march begins the season best known as the pollening. the temperatures are finally manageable, ranging anywhere from the high sixties to the low eighties with the bare minimum in humidity. when it is humid, there is typically the presence of a nice breeze to cool you off and keep you from getting too sweaty. so while you're comfortable physically, if you are one of the many to be afflicted by seasonal allergies then your sinuses will be making you miserable. there is only so much that one can do to enjoy the weather when they have a stuffy, runny, crusty nose and watery, itchy, eyes. invest stock in claritin and tissues, my friend, because that pollen is going to fuck you up. the pollening typically spans march through mid to late april. it's gonna be may //. late april through may is the most ideal time to be living in florida. there is some heat and humidity, and there are occasional days of on and off thunderstorms ... but it these times when you need to make the pilgrimage out to cocoa or clearwater for a needed beach day. it's sunny, it's comfortable, there is a breeze, and a distinctive lack of pollen. it's not the best time for theme parks because it's spring break season and everyone from other states are there, but floridians will take advantage of the good weather for barbecues, picnics, and beach days. it does get notably hotter very fast the later you get in may, and the last two weeks of may start that late afternoon rain that you can set your watch by; foreshadowing the june through november misery that is hurricane season. conclusion //. florida, like most places people live, is an acquired taste. there is very little that can be done to warn you about the actuality of the weather. with temperatures that can range anywhere from the hundreds to the high twenties, and a sticky humidity that can make you question all of your life choices ... there is only one thing that can be said about surviving florida: drink . fucking . water.

[midnightwaters65]

Coronavirus

Genre: Oneshot

Summary: Your stuck in the house with Jungkook and soon you'll end up alone....

Word count: Confession😆 Including the mistakes. Editing on here is difficult.😅

His parents are my OCs.

Authors Note: Do you guys want me to make a kinemaster? If so please leave a like and comment to watch this instead. This whole story is a teaser😆💜

"Welcome! Welcome"! Your mom invited her friends inside the house. My dad and I helped the suitcase my mom put on the porch for us too pull up in the living room.

This was a bad time of world going through a terrible time called the Coronavirus. They pulled hundreds of students put of their schools. News, commercials, Ads, tells us too stay home and wash our hands.

My mom knocked my room door to tell me a couple and their one son was spending a night a couple of says. Friends from South Korea was coming too vist for a new home and Job at [Your State/Town]. The airport was closed.....this was good. I jogged to see if their were more luggages and that was it. I watched a scene outside of my mom friend says [Your/moms/name]. Hugging her in a tight hug.

"Awe! I'm so happy your staying here", My mom shrieks. "But oooo I'm so sorry you can't go home for the moment". I herd my dads loud trunk van shut tightly. My dad and the womans husband already had passed me. My mom did tell me she had a son. (😳)

There was a boy that was my age. He had a unique name because I've never heard of that name before.....right now. I just forgot everything existed.

"Helllo! Y/n"!

My heart gaped. I sucked in my stomach trying not too make a scene of making a mistake in front of a cute boy.

"This is my bestfriend Seo-Yun! We used to work together at the same job", Shes says rejoiced hugging her against her side. Seo-Yun smokes just excited as her. "Yes! Your mother is just the best! Without your mom I would have NOT know where too go. Gosh! We already spend way too much money on these hotels -".

I laugh at these moments. When a person talks to you , telling how your feeling but goes on how their day has been.

I giggled, we all do that when your happy.

"Oh! Jungkook! [Y/m] you've met my son", Seo-Yun says proudly.

I stayed on the porch watching how he reacts, listens,.....talks. I couldn't smiled but fighting back a smile. I was excited.

I pretend I was cool and my anxiety got the best of me. When his mom was introducing him to my mom. He popped off his headphones and quickly wrapping around his iPhone leaving it in one hand to shaking hands with her with his free hand. I didn't see him smile because he was wearing a black colored facemask. From protecting him. I was sighing. He looks good for being careful. The corner of his eyes curves to show that he was smiling. He kept looking down when my mom was embarrassing him with the 'good looking' comments. I couldn't think of anything else but actually agreeing with her. She was doing me a favor.

"Yes! The handsome devil Jeon Jungkook"!

He looks at her and chuckles down saying , "Its nice too meet you".

I looked away at the moment to smile behind me. They were on the sidewalk not close nor to far. But hearing him speak, he was as shy as I was.

" Yes Jeongguk here keeps growing and growing and growing! It took him a very long time too agree too come here. He shy at times but when he really gets too know you ; I ask him how he gotten so confident! Such a talented boy! His voice- oh gosh I heard they have a karaoke here! Such beautiful voice"-. While the time his mother kept on going, he was looking away like he wasn't there. He zoomed out NOT to be in this conversation anymore. I was happy! After the whole month of suffering on schools work on the internet. This was entertaining than ANY youtube vidoe.

"Oh gosh! Please let's go in! Let's go in", My mom interrupted. But not on purpose. The weather was nasty. The mist began to feel humid. Tiny drips of water began to fall on the car windows for proof it's about to start raining. Before my mother turned around I quickly ran back inside so they wouldn't see me eavesdropping. Like it would've mattered. I jogged in the kitchen for some water. My dad and Seo-Yun husband was talking about jobs and the risk of the Coronavirus.

" Y/n", My mother calls me in the living room. I was nervous. Like this was a life or death situation. I looked at my clothes and felt a confident of my choice of style today. Wasn't a flirty vibe but it was casual. I checked my teeth in my reflection on the cleaned stove and slap lightly my cheeks too be ready. My dad and his new friend left the kitchen early too meet Seo-Yun.

As I was walking, my heart was speeding. I was actually going to be in a room with a cute boy who's not just visiting- STAYING here for more than two nights. And hes talented!

I acted like how I normally walked in my living room and saw Jungkook sitting on the couch. Going through his phone like any teenager would. My chance of catching of his attention wasn't impossible. It's the fact HOW would I?

"I want you too meet Jungkook", My mom says forwards too me. With a secret wink. I blushed , only because she knows theres a boy in the house and normally I don't....act cool around boys. "He's shy! Say hi too him"!

I frowned at my mom not to do this. SEO-Yun energy felt like she KNEW. And she was okay with it.

"Ya! Jeongguk", His mom calls out.

He snapped his phone off and stands up. My legs almost began too wobble when I couldn't stand. He looked like those eboy tik toker but way better. Way hotter. Does he do Tik Tok? He become famous! His mask wasnt fully off but under his chin.

His smiles at me reaching for my hand. I was going to shake his hand. I wanted to shake his hand. I commanded to shake his hand. But I was looking down at it. Puzzle must've been on my face because I was staring at it!!! STILL. NOT. MOVING.

For a minute he pulled his hand away nervously and just gave me a hesitant nod.

I quickly received it and started shaking.

I began to smile and laugh. Scratching the back of my head after pulling my hand away.

"Its very nice to meet you! I'm ugh- I'm [Y/n]"!

He looks behind me and our mothers must've been watching us. His face was speaking to his mom like he needed permission to speak too me. But he looked back to me and acted everything was fine.

"Hi. Nice too meet you". He bows. Than clears his throat looking away.

I just watched him. A blush after he bowed. I know he was being polite but I didn't know what to say to that. I herd my mom speak behind me , I had too look away too. This tense tension was getting on my nervous. Only because I wasn't confident than I thought I had. I wasn't popular in school. But I had enough friends that I've never rarely felt cautious how I reacted with. Just seeing him...I was wondering what he must be thinking. Going spend a night in a stranger's house? I would be homesick with a fit!

"Jungkook! You must see your room"-.

Let's just say dinner time came. After what happend in the living room was worse! Going to school , obviously I don't speak to my crushes. So it's easy to say to make a move. Become close with them. To actually do it. I called [ Bestfriend ]! And when it comes to times like this, they never help! I'm always that to come down. I get off the phone with my friend, turn off the music and use the bathroom. Watching Jeongguk leave the room as late as I was. Butterflies in my stomach turned into cramps. I finally walked down the stairs. Yawning. The smell was nice and it was turkey. Looking on the table - dame! There was more than turkey! It was a feast! A table that made it look like Thanksgiving! All the adults were talking. There was Jungkook sitting at the end of the table next to his dad. He had headphones on and he looked down every 5seconds to look on his phone.

Silly me! I was on my phone all day. It needed to be charged. My mom did call me to come downstairs a couple times but since she was talking to her bestfriend she didnt see a long time. I wasn't notice at the table. Cause of my anxiety, that never bothers me. For boring 5mins I was hearing my parents conversation separate and togther about how, why and when. Time to time my eyes watched Jungkook like a stalker. He just was being himself. Eating looking through his phone. Not paying attention too anything else. When he decide to look up, he didn't watch me. He was looking at his own dad who was now speaking proudly of him.

"Jungkook here been doing all kinds of things. Choir, call kawtaedo, dancing, his friends say hes good at insterments. He's been joining a lot of clubs"!

Jungkook took a earbud off and smiled shyly. He looked straight at him and says something I didn't understand in his language. "Couldn't do it without my parents support", He says korean. It sounded sweet. Jungkook mom messes her his hair. "Hes good at english but hes justbreally shy. I'm sad I have too put him in a middle of moving but we're still deciding".

So my MOM tested it. She asked him his school, who's his friends , what he liked for a hobby in english. I felt embarrassed...I kept my cool and smiled too myself how my mom is crazy. Honestly this was the only time I wish I could trade places in moments like these in life. His english was good. They weren't settled but they were better than what I could learn in [your struggle language class]. I liked what I was hearing. "Yes. It would be sad too love. I have 6 bestfriends waiting for me at home. We don't always join the same thing but we met after I auditioned for bighit. I still didn't get a call", He says softly. His voice wasn't too deep, or high, but it sounded calm and careful. I smiled. I couldn't look at him, he would have my attention 24/7 and I wouldn't hear a thing. My ears because too rang because goosebumps came to my arms. I felt cold...

"Yes. His friends also went in but no one has results because of this virus. Gosh! You have too hear him sing"!

His dad was all for it too. But Jungkook shook his head , waving his hands shyly no.

"Not today, not today! I'm p- pretty tired".

Every 'awe' at the table. I chuckled shaking my head. Bummer. "Y/n, after your done eating pull out my purse from the car please, I left it in there by accident", My mom says. I murmured, eating mash potatoes. "Okay".

I wiped my mouth with a napkin and decide to go get it anyways. My mom went back upstairs to use the bathroom.

Seo-Yun picked up her dish too grab more food on the big counter. I was beginning to head to the door. Grabbing the keys beside the microwave. "Jeongguk! Go out with her! I left my phone in there".

I froze with my hand on the door knob. I herd his "okay" from the kitchen. Should I wait for him? Should I leave? I caught his shadow put away his dish too. Coming closer, I started - running out the door and quickly opening the cars lock. I saw my moms purse in the back seat and I finally see him catching up. "Hey", He calls out for me. I pretend I was in my own world who finally herd him. "My mom left her phone", His eyes scammed for it. I searched for it too. I found it.

"Its on the front seat", I say jumping inside the car , grabbing onto it. When Jungkook received it from me, he smiles. "Thank you". Bowing. I thought this was the perfect time to say something! "You don't have too do that"! He was turning around too leave but he stopped looking at me puzzled. "Bow. I mean. You just. Seemed. Um. Tense". Maybe it wasn't.

"Oh", He smiles shyly again.

I nodded in an awkward silence. Than I use the not flirtous line. "If you need anything just ask me. If it goes by serious go by my parents".

He nods. "Thanks". He slowly finds his way to walk away. Finally for both of our sales he did.

I looked away , not looking back at him until he went back inside the house. He was wearing crops as shoes. In a random unmeaning thought , I didn't wear crops.

After my job was done. I went into my bedroom and stared at my door. No one was answering my calls and youtube wasn't distracting me. I was staring at my door. Didn't know if I showed cry or I should start giggling like a maniac.

He likes music.... I looked at my guitar. Walking closer to it, I started fiddling with it. I didn't know how to use it. My mom bought it for me because the school finally made a guitar class. Which I didn't get to start because it was my second quarter.I closed my eyes and started imagine if Jungkook suddenly appear and wanting to help me. I felt dum at the moment because that would've been a good question. "What music do you like"?

I started too sing my favorite song while fiddling a string to a tune. I sang it in different tones, giving myself a little credit at it. My ipad dinged. That was my homework..... I woke up at 2:00am wanting to pee. A silent voice came in front of me....

This was Jungkooks room. Right in front of MINE. His parents was next door. So was mine. Their rooms were for guests and we normally used them for random junk that we had too clean all day until they came the next. I watched the door. Blocking a sweet voice from the other side. But I couldn't stay longer, I had to pee. Than inward fully awake! I gasp , "Oh"!

He had open his door! He didn't notice me when he was leaving his room until I gasped. "Sorry", I said. He looked up at me and his wide eyes showed me he was startled too. "Sorry", He says in the same time. We both gave a nervous laugh. "So..need too pee", I asked. Like somehow that was a normal question! He nodded. "Someone was in there so I waited", He says pointing to a now empty bathroom.

I nodded dum founded. "Oo..well it's all yours! I needed some- um I need water"! I smiled widely. His look of convinced, did not give me strength. He stares at me like he wanted to say something but it wasnt his place to say. So instead I walked away. This was my first time holding it in when I wasn't the only woman in the house. -.-

Instead of grabbing water. I grabbed milk to try for a theory. I waited 3mins and Instill didn't hear the door open. I knew that because that's how long I left my milk-.

"Great! Its hot!", I groaned annoyed. I couldn't touch it. I hover my hand to feel the heat against my skin. My hearts poped. I hear someone coming. I closed the microwave. It was dark in the kitchen and the living room. Because of the night lights. I saw a figure coming by. "Jungkook"? I said blinking. First I assume he thought he looked other places until he finally noticed I wasn't sitting I was standing. He gave me a smile.

I was now puzzled.

"Its all yours", He says. He waved me a goodnight and walked away.

I looked back the microwave with a milk inside.....I wish I could fit in the microwave........

~●Next Morning●~

I was wearing blue sweatpants and a black hoodie. It wasn't looking but it was definitely not bad for him too see me on this. Styles, I didn't usually have favorites or diffrent actually. I never tried to impress a boy before. I sighed.

Opening my room door, Jungkook was coming from the the bathroom. He was off his phone. He was wearing a white tshirt with black pajama pants only. His hair was messing and his eyes seem droopy. He didn't notice me at all until I said "Goodmorning". He stopped and looked at me and says " Goodmorning ".

"Did you enjoy your sleep", I asked shyly.

He smiles nicely and starts to stretch. "Yes. Well. Kinda of. I was awake all night".

I laughed. "Me too! I was messing with my guitar", I lied. I was definitely not thinking of dum ways to die of an embarrassment.

He starts rubbing his eyes. "Oh", all he says. I smiled watching him. I wasn't a morning person either. He went back in his room. That's a sigh not to be seen again.

I stayed in my room too. Hearing two couples talking loudly upstairs. It was too the point I was walking back and fourth in my room to firgue out ways too get ways of him inside MY room. "What do you think Timmy", I asked my pink rabbit. "Should I make my move"? I pulled my stuffed pink bunny of my desk , pointing a ruler at it.

"Wait! Stop there Timmy! I think I know where your plan was going". I toss the ruler and at least put some socks on. My plan was to knock on his door.... he needs a friend? No ones telling me not to be.

I was here... 7 seconds I was here. Going to knock. I will knock. Yes I'm ready! What will a whore do? Was that even the right thing to ask? "She will knock"..... I thought shamelessly. I instead close a door. My door. "Timmy", I say slipping down on the floor. "Your fired".

Afternoon came by and I was playing the piano. I was thinking hundreds of way of an excuse to eat my room but I could lie and eat after they all fall asleep. I'll be hungry until than. I shook my head fiddling with the guitar again. "Mmm m mmm", I sang. A knock came from the door.

"Hey! Come down the dinners ready", My moms voice calls out for me.

I yawned out stretching, "I'll be there! I'm doing homework"! I scratch my head and put my sheets away. I stood up , wearing a white tshirt but I pull my black hoodie on top. Putting my hair in a messy bun, leaving the door.

~After Dinner~

"We should do karaoke", My mom says.

I choked on my water but still swallowed. It seems to catch Jungkook reaction too. The dinner was same as yesterday but the food was less. And the main meal was chicken. We were going to put away the plates but my mom made announcement "My husband found a karaoke box in our closet! Oh come on! It'll be much fun"!

I looked at Junkook who still didn't say anything but stare at her. Than we both looked at his mom. "Oh! That would be so much for Jeongguk"!

I smirked. This was fantastic! I can here what he's hiding! If he can sing, I would have something for him to sing me about while I'll help him with my -. "Don't worry Jungkook! You can sing any song you like", My mom says, "When we'll let Y/n tune anything she likes on her guitar I bought her"!

"Oh", Jungkook laughs bashfully. When I finally gone mad!

"Who's playing tunes"?????

She comes up to me and kissed my forehead. "Well I want to hear him sing. Unlike you sometimes, he goes out there and does a lot! Because hes always out there and doing things, I dont want him to stop now. I wanna hear"! She helps grab my plate.

"But I still dont know how to play", I mumble. Seo-Yun laughed out loud. "Are you kidding! I passed by your door and you seem really good at it. Jungkook here can play anything once he puts his mind to it! He can help teach you"!

"Oh! That would be nice", My mom says to her. They finally left with the living room with the men fixing the karaoke machine. I looked at Junkook who blinked the same time as I did.

My small desperate for Jungkook attention annoyed me a little when all I hear how he was better than me. I did things too! My parents even talk about me [ your past activities]. I scratched my head. I just didnt to much as he did. Did I?

"What was that one song we used to love to sing togther! Remember our works meeting at a restaurant!? They had a dance floor there", Seo-yun claps excitedly.

My mom kept slapping her thighs while laughing. "Oh gosh! Yes! Honey! Put it on"!

My dad grabbed the TV remote and clicked in the letters. Jungkook was on afar side of the couch smiling taking a sip of his coke can. Our dads were between us. Our moms was the first to be singing together.

🎙So tell me what you want. What you really really want🎙

🎙So tell me what you want. What you really really want🎙

🎙I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah🎙

I..was...dead....

"Mommy", I muffled in my couches pillow. I was looking away, laughing with the others. I felt as I'd this would never ended until they did. I closed my eyes clapping for them. "Perfect...that was...great".

They bowed down at their beautiful ✌singing ✌ and sat down on the couch. It was our dads turn but Seo-Yun gave it to Jungkook. He hesitated to stand. My own mom attacked me!

"Think fast", She says tossing me a mic. Luckily I did but confused.

"What's going on here"?

"Its your kids turn", She says ploping next to dad. I still didn't move but watch Jungkook, confidently walk up chosing a song. I felt my dad nudging me but I still didn't want to go. "Chose a song Y/n! Go help him"!

I whined standing up. Why does it always have to be me! I gazed at him closer and he was still finding a song. I watched how calmly he was acting. Rubbing his one eye to watch closer of the titles on the screen. He finally looks at me and I looked down at my mic. We never really done this before. It was nice to hold a mic like this.

Music was all I ever listen to but singing it for fun than random was strange to me.

I think it was because I get to sing with a cute boy. "Do you want to chose", He asks me. He hands me the remote. I was refusing not to but it tell me it was okay too. I didn't have a thought on my mind. Whatever song I was tuning into my room I was shy about it. So I played eeny, meeny, miny, moe in my head.

"Would you know this song", I asked.

He smiles and nodded. I smiled too.

🎙We don't talk anymore. We don't talk anymore. We don't talk anymore, like we used to🎙 ~ Jungkook.

🎙I just heard you found the one you've been looking. You've been looking for. I wish I would have known that wasn't me🎙 ~ Me.

🎙Don't wanna know. What kind of dress you're wearing tonight. If he's holding onto you so tight. The way I did before🎙~ Us

I almost lost my concentration. Hearing him sing, I felt cold when it was my turn. My voice was shaky because I was nervous. I even had to clear my voice between lines so I wouldn't have to mess up but I already missed a letter or forgot it was my turn. It was a bad idea to partner us togther. Listening to his voice I wish I could've have recorded. I gazed at him a couple of times too see how serious he looked. And that's how I felt when I was alone.

🎙Ooh, it's such a shame. That we don't talk anymore🎙~ Us.

Once it was finished. Our parents applause to us. I smiled widely. Laughing at finishing score. It was actually good. I was glad.

"You did really good", I told Jungkook proudly. I reach to pat his shoulder. Giving him my smile , he smiled back at me. He was. Already looking at me with curiosity eyes. "You did amazing", He says with a thumbs up.

I bit my lip. "Thanks". He laughs along with me. "Your really amazing", He tells me. I gave him suspicion look. "Thanks", I still said. "I really want to hear your solo..."

He shook his head. Using his index finger for a "🤫" he does with a smile. I nodded giving "👌okay" sigh.

Our parents were getting drunk...they were drinking alcohol during dinner. Now beer during taking turns with eachother. Jungkook sang with his dad even. I wasn't paying attention because my mom passed out on the couch. I started to slap her cheek gently saying bedtime. No. Still not there. "Jungkook", The only name I called for. He was staring at his own dad crawling into other couch sleeping.

"What now", I shrugged. He scratch his head annoyed and grunted slyly. "Any blankets"?

I sighed. I finally snap my fingers. "Yes", I answered. I head upstairs to a closet.

We grabbed totally four for all of them. Jungkook and I end up cleaning and putting away the karaoke machine. I turned off the kitchen lights. "Okay! Time for bed", I say going upstairs. "You coming"?

He sets the living room light off. "Yep". He started to catch up with me.

"I love your voice", I said to him before he left inside his room.

He smiles scratching the back of his head. "Thank you. You were really good to. I can tell you were nervous. I hear you singing sometimes".

I hesitated to say anything ruien the moment I was feeling. He looked back inside his room to show he was tired but he was also being polite.

"Oh", All I said. I nodded at him. "Goodnight". He smiles at me closing the door. I scratched my head. Biting my lip. Closing my door next. Wait! Did I say thank you?

~●Next Morning●~

Taking a decent show last night, I felt comfortable but woke up to early. I checked the time and saw it was 10am. I wanted to sleep more but my dreams became werid even I couldn't remember what happened. I decide to use the restroom. After brushing my teeth, I step out to see Jungkook going downstairs. When I took a show I saw my mom going in her room last night. I wasn't sure about the others.

Walking into the living room, no one was there. That answered my question. I herd cabinets closed. I walked into the kitchen to find him alone. He spotted me. Looking relived.

"Morning", Hes shy voice says. "Do you have cereal"?

Cereal would usually wouldn't be in any cabinets. Looking through again for his benefit. There wasn't.

"No...Do you want me to make you breakfast"?

He looked at me surprise. "You can cook"?I nodded smiling. "Yes! Let me cook for you". I started getting supplies out. He watches me but he interrupts me cracking an egg.

"Can I help", He asked. I shrugged. "I wasn't hoping you would ask". (😅)

We cooked togther silently. I was cooking the the mixes in the pan while he chopped up the veggies. When his part was done. He stares at my cooking admiring. I did a flip or two and almost failed. This was my first time making him laugh. He...was dreamy. I thought I was imagining it.

"Yes"! I slipped an omelet on his plate. He looked so excited his eyes widen. "Wow! Amazing"! He smiles wider. I even started giggling how excited he looked proud at me. "All yours", I told him.

He gives me a bow sitting down. And his hands pressed together. I smiled putting the pan away. He prays. That was the greatest sigh! I hurriedly rush across the table to eat my breakfast. My creation was appreciated! We started digging after a small prayer.

"What can you cook", I asked him. He started thinking. "Mmm". He swallows. "I cook whatever I put my mind to it. Usually only scramble eggs. What you made is really good and.... impressive".

I scrunch my face at him and told him stories about my cooking. He responded with his own stories I was actually satisfied hearing about it. He started teasing me about how clumsy I was dropping the omelet on the pan. I started blushing. This was a first moment I ever felt with a boy.

"I hear them coming", I said drying the last dish he gave me. I started putting other omelets for the adults in the house. One by one came down and sat in the chair smelling breakfast.

"Awe! Honey. You beat me to it! You made my favorite"! She kissed my forehead. I smiled. "No problem. Going upstairs. Enjoy you guys".

I started to realize Jungkook was going upstairs too. Alone in the living room, I waited until he was done talking to his parents. He steps in seeing me wait for him. His reaction was no different from mine. What can I say now? Instead he said something instead of me.

"You have any instruments"?

We were in my room! I have a boy in my room! I have a cute ass guy in my BEDROOM! He was looking around. Seeing [Your room]. My heart started speeding.

"Interesting", He says. He finally pointed. "You did say you play guitar". He smiles at me. I just stood there beside the open door. What would I say if our parents by the door? Would we be in trouble?

"Y... yes! I've only known a few tunes. You can touch it! If...you want". I walked more closer to him. He still looked at me for permission, I tada it and sat down on my bed. He sat in a chair , tuning with it. But once he played. I saw guitar notes started dancing circle around the room. I started clapping after he finshed. "I'm still learning", He says chuckling.

"Wow. You have a way with learning", I said with lightly. He glance at me. He looked at me funny. I coughed chaging back to my regular voice. "You know! Because you seem okay". He keeps that look on his face that was killing me. "Okay? Than show me your moves".

Oof. I blinked , taking the guitar in my arms.

I sat in front of him. Playing the guitar in while I made him sing during the melody. He stopped and rolled his tounge during his mistake. I rolled my eyes. "Keep going", I encouraged him. "That was beautiful".

He looks up at me. I didn't notice how our face was almost close to eachother once I decided to lean down and patted his shoulder. He was staring at me like he was staring at the omelet I made this morning. I blushed, my hands feeling him come closer to my face....he was going to kiss me!

The whole story wasn't big enough to enter.💔 Its up to you guys wanting to turn this into kinemaster or second part on Tumblr!💜

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!

[sluttyten]

NCT Reactions: Exhibitionism

request: could you please write scenarios of all legal members where you & the other person are with in a setting with other people around, but you still do stuff (could be anything, up to you sensei) and the others dont know. similar to the caught masturbating scenario with Johnny.

A/N: several of these are actually like imagine that the guys are uni students

Taeil

The others already teased you both plenty since you were sitting on Taeil’s lap, softly kissing him and giggling while he smiled a large goofy smile. You would absolutely just die of embarrassment if they realized what was really going on. That Taeil had his hand inside your pants, luckily shielded from the baggy shirt you were wearing, and he was touching you as well as kissing you. You don’t make any sexual noises until you cum from his teasing, pushing your hips forward as he kisses you. One of the other boys, throws a pillows that knocks into your arm and flops uselessly to the side, and he shouts, “Go get a room! We don’t want any kissing here!” You laugh and break the kiss, holding back a whimper as Taeil withdraws his hand and lifts it to his mouth. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he sucks first one finger into his mouth and then the next, thoroughly cleaning them.

Johnny

You always think Johnny looks attractive, every time you pass him in the halls he looks so cool and smart and effortlessly handsome. He’s a casual acquaintance of yours, both of you are in the same major so you’ve got most of your classes in common, most friends, and you’ve been to the same parties. He even sits next to you at the back of one of the big classes. It’s in that class where you swear you’ve fallen in love with him, the easy tilt of his smile, the way he’ll lean over and scribble or doodle on your notes to make you smile, and the way he smells god he smells amazing. You’ve been flirting with each other all semester, and finally one day you snap and can’t take the tension anymore, you pull Johnny aside when he walks out of one of his other classes, surprised to see you he follows smiling, and when you pull him into a back stairwell, into a corner that’s not very well let, and he eagerly goes to kiss you, moans when you slide your hand down his pants and start jerking him off, ignoring when other students hurriedly rush by on the stairs. 

Taeyong

You didn’t think anyone would really notice if you just started touching yourself at your table in the back of the library. With final exams coming up, the library was busier than ever, and noisier too, so you figured you could get away with sliding your hand between your legs, pressing them inside of you. The noise of people chatting and the elevator motors whirring and doors opening and closing would all mask any wet noises or moans. You’d be lying if you said your desire to masturbate had nothing to do with a previous one night stand of yours (aka Lee Taeyong, the complex frat guy) sitting alone at the next table over, looking fine as fuck. You didn’t think anyone would hear or see, but something happens and Taeyong glances over at you. His eyes immediately go to what you’re doing and he sit up a bit, visibly swallows, and then he stands up and makes his way over to you. “Can I do that, Y/N?” He sits down beside you, facing you, blocking you from view, and his hand replaces yours, coursing pleasure through you and afterward you invite him back to your dorm “to study” and make that one night stand a two time thing.

Yuta

Along with a group of your friends and their partners, you and Yuta took a bus day trip south. You spent the day wandering a town on the coast, playing at the beach for a while before exploring shops, taking photos and messing around together. Yuta was clingy all day, constantly at your side, his hands on your in some way. It’s not until the bus rude back to Seoul that night that his hands finally get really touchy. Everyone else is either dozing off or focused on their phone screens, so no one notices when Yuta’s hand sneaks under the sweatshirt of his that you’re using as a blanket. “I’ve been wanting to touch you like this all day,��� he says when his fingers sneak inside your panties. “Stay quiet, okay? I bet I can make you cum without anyone noticing.”

Kun

You find Kun sitting in the back corner of a bookstore, ignoring your sexy messages you’d been sending him from the bathroom because he’s totally absorbed in the novel he’s looking at. “Kun,” you whine as you walk toward him, glancing around to take notice of any other customers nearby. You sit down in his lap, and he suddenly looks up at you. For once you’re grateful to be wearing a skirt as it spreads nicely over his lap, hiding that you’re reaching down to palm over his crotch. “Kun, I’ve been texting you from the bathroom, asking you to come meet me. I’m horny,” you whisper, unzipping the front of his pants so you can reach in and pull his cock out. Kun’s face flushes bright red and he looks down the row of books to where a pair of women are standing discussing a book. You take his chin and turn his face back to you as you rearrange yourself on his lap and slide down on him. You cover his mouth with your hand, muffling his soft moan almost entirely. “You’re going to ride me right here?” Kun asks as you subtly shift your hips. You nod and he drops his head back against the bookshelf behind him, face flushed as he tries to keep in any noises that might get you both caught.

Doyoung

Whistling to pretend to be casual doesn’t work. Maybe you should have told Doyoung that before you started sucking him off beneath the table promoting your club at university. No one’s really paying attention as they walk passed, on their way to class or trying to avoid getting dragged in to a boring club. The tablecloth stretches all the way to the floor, completely hiding you from view, and you’d had a hand on Doyoung’s leg for the past hour, massaging him through his pants, and eventually you couldn’t take it anymore so you slid out of sight beneath the table and pulled him out of his pants and took him down you throat, loving when you hear his casual whistling falter and his fingers touch your cheek, brushing your lips. 

Ten

The first time he holds your hand, you’re sitting around the rest of the boys, and he clasps your hand tightly just out of their sight. He feels a thrill just by holding your hand, knowing that the others could see, that they could realize that there’s something going on between you. It’s innocent enough, but when you hold his hand back, Ten feels like it’s something illicit. When you make the next move, sliding his hand farther into your lap, Ten licks his lips and glances sideways at you, wants to see if your movement means what he hopes it does. You nod as his fingertips brush the front of your shorts, and your legs part a bit more. Ten forgets entirely that his groupmates are just feet away, and he rubs his fingers over your shorts, still holding your hand with his other hand. No one notices the way you’re both staring at each other hungrily, they only notice when Ten leans in and kisses you afterward.

Jaehyun

You sit back against a tree, Jaehyun rests between your legs, his back to your chest. It’s a lovely day in the park, sunlight shines through the leaves making interesting patterns over the thighs of his jeans, and you can’t help put touch. Soon Jaehyun’s turning his head to kiss at your neck, taking your hand and dragging it higher until your hand is on his erection which is concealed within his jeans. “There’s people around, Jae,” you say, noticing the joggers who move by on a nearby path, the dogwalkers, soccer moms with their strollers and whiny kids. Jaehyun just moans, lifts his knees up to block the view from the path a bit. He slides your hand down the front of his pants. “Just touch me, please.” To anyone passing by, you might just seem like a couple relaxing together, enjoying the mild weather. To anyone who looks closer, they’d see the blush of Jaehyun’s ears, your lips moving against the color there as you whisper to him, and they might see the movement of your hand in the front of his pants, his hips jolting up when he finally cums, an indentation of his front teeth frozen in his lip in an attempt to silence his sounds. 

WinWin

Everyone slides out of the van, stretching their arms above their heads, rejoicing at the fresh air. WinWin stays inside and you do too, easily climbing into his lap. “We only have a few minutes,” you say, pushing the blanket off his lap, thinking about the text he sent you half an hour ago (I’m so hard help). You see the others walking toward the rest stop, and you quickly sit down on WinWin’s dick, starting to ride him. You’ve barely even started when you see Taeyong coming back toward the van, and you whine, trying to ride WinWin faster, get off faster. Luckily, Mark runs up behind Taeyong and wraps his arm around his neck, and they start play fighting in the middle of the parking lot. WinWin’s lips go to your neck, unaware that his groupmates are slowly congregating around the play fight, slowly starting to come back towards you. He finally cums, burying his groan in your throat, his hand immediately going to touch you, help get you off. The other boys are so close, just feet away, if they actually looked at the van, they would see you in WinWin’s lap, maybe notice the slight shaking of the van. “Come on, Y/N. Cum for me.” WinWin says and you cum on command. He kisses you as he helps pull your clothes back into place, tugs your hood up to cover the flush in your cheeks, and he prods you back toward your seat just in time. The door opens and Yuta jumps in, glances between the two of you and then moves out of the way for everyone to pile back inside. 

Jungwoo

Sure, the movie isn’t the most interesting one, but you’re the one that told Jungwoo you wanted to see it, so you have to at least try to look interested so he doesn’t think coming the the movie theater was a total waste of money. You become unfocused while trying to watch the movie, you don’t even notice Jungwoo whining and groaning, shifting around in his seat. His hand suddenly wraps around the back of your neck and he groans, “Babe, I need you.” You happily draw your gaze away from the screen to your boyfriend and his cock out in the open air of the theater. There’s another couple sitting down the row from you, a group of women sit in the row below you, and you do have some qualms about blowing Jungwoo, but also you’re super bored and he needs you, he says. You easily bend over and put your head in his lap, his cock in your mouth.

Lucas

It was just you and your two best friends Lucas and Jungwoo hanging out together. The boys were playing video games and you were taking a break to give Jungwoo a chance to play against Lucas. Soon Jungwoo was whining, complaining that he needed your help because Lucas was winning and he didn’t want to lose. Jungwoo is more of your best friend, so you decide to cheat to help him win, and cheating here means that you sit down facing Lucas in his lap, his gaze flickers from the TV to your face for just a moment. Jungwoo’s attention is dedicated completely to the video game, but Lucas just wraps his arms around you and he looks back at the game, obviously intent on ignoring you. And then you grind down on his thigh and then again and again until you’ve got a bit of a rhythm going and Lucas’s eyes are slowly losing focus, his arms tightening around your waist, and judging by Jungwoo’s happy noises, Lucas is starting to lose. You keep grinding down on his thigh until you feel like you’ve soaked through your panties, and you can’t take this anymore. You move off his lap and walk away quickly to the bathroom. A moment later you hear Jungwoo crying in victory and asking Lucas where he’s going. “I’ll be right back. Why don’t you go get the snacks?” And then the bathroom door opens and Lucas is there, pushing you against the wall, hand between your legs, and his mouth hot on yours.

Mark

The house that had been rented for them to stay in accidentally only had three rooms instead of the five it was meant to have, meaning that all of the nct 127 boys were sleeping in one room, the female staff in one room, and the male staff in one room. You wait until everyone is asleep before you sneak into the boys’ room, tripping over Johnny who just mumbles something and rolls over, nearly mistakenly waking Taeil before you find Mark, curled up beneath his blankets. “Mark?” You shake his shoulder, and he opens his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping, just pretending, just waiting for you to arrive. He lifts his blanket and you slide inside. It’s difficult sneaking around, hiding your relationship, but you’re barely hiding it now that you’re in his room surrounded by the others and Mark is leaning over you, sliding your pajama bottoms down so he can slip inside of you. You have to be quiet, and you try your best to be as he fucks you. The next morning however when you’re sipping at a coffee trying to not stare at Mark, Johnny stands beside you and says, “You’re not as sneaky as you’d like to think.”

[swishandflickwit]

Marichat — shelter 1/3

Summary: Marinette and Chat Noir get caught up—in the rain and in each other.

Words: 10.4k

Rating: General Audiences

AN: Surprise, surprise—a different OTP but the same song influence haha! So title taken from Promise by Ben Howard.

Also on: ff.net | AO3

Other writing

[Part 1] | Part 2 | Part 3 |

"Really?”

Chat Noir groaned as a drop of water splashed onto his cheek. So deceptively innocent, that singular bead of cool liquid against his heated skin. It would have been a welcoming sensation too, had one not turned into two then three—until the heavens saw fit to truly showcase its displeasure in a torrential downpour that left him shivering and drenched even with the protection of his suit.

Behind him, Ladybug giggled.

“Kitty cat doesn't like to get wet, does he?” she shook her head in mock disappointment, looking perfectly content with her bangs plastered to her forehead and raindrops dappling her eyelashes. “How ordinary of you.”

She so rarely initiated their banter that were it any other day, he would have rejoiced at such a comment, never mind that it had been at his expense. Perhaps he would have quipped with a flirty smirk and a daring now let me show you how extra ordinary I can be. As it was, the weather might as well have been a testament to his mood and so he had no desire to exchange quips.

“Don't you? I thought ladybugs weren't fond of the cold,” he shot back albeit in a tired manner.

“True,” she replied quietly, “but I happen to love the rain, even before I became, well, this.”

The words sounded playful but the sudden absence of mirth from her tone told him she sensed the abrupt shift in his demeanor. Her concern was a heady weight on his shoulders as he felt her step closer to him. It was almost enough to compel him to turn around and apologize for his cold behavior. But…

“Chaton?”

He shook his head. “Not now, Ladybug.”

Without glancing back to see her expression (he was certain he wouldn't be able to carry himself if he saw her features twisted in hurt because of how poorly he had acted, but he just needed to be away), he bounded. Over the ledge of the rooftop they had been on, landing smoothly on the roof of a lower building, and on and on and on as he had no real destination in mind.

The mansion was out of the question—the place more prison than home, possessing a frigidness that had nothing to do with the rain but was all the more potent for it. Because no amount of his cook's world-class hot chocolates or the piles of comfy sheets from the multitude of linen closets that littered the rooms could erase the perpetual feeling of cold that filled his house, so vast and so achingly, achingly empty yet suffocating too. He was drowning in his own supposed sanctuary—in silence, in loneliness, and in memories that should have filled him with happiness but only served to remind him of the void in his heart. Shaped like that of his father whom he hardly saw, then of his mother, and the Adrien he could have been had she not left him behind—passionate and alight instead of this straggling, broken, thing, fumbling through his dreary days with only fractions of himself.

(It was any wonder he kept attaching himself to Ladybug, whom he was assured of was his other half, despite her steady rebuffs of his affections—just anything to feel even marginally whole)

He hated how conscious he was of every frosty sluice that wiggled its way along the planes of his body, snuggling into every line and corner of his skin, over and under his suit, and the tendrils of his hair from root to scalp till he felt submerged beneath an ocean—but he hated the thought of the solitude that would greet him at the mansion even more. So though he was sure to get an earful from Plagg once he detransformed, he continued his aimless wandering throughout the city. At least people on the streets waved when they saw him, their smiles filling that hole in his heart with soft embers however temporary it was, so long as it tempered the frost in his veins. Perhaps he could perform a solo patrol, no matter that the most recent Akuma had been dealt with a little under an hour ago. He might assist the local officers who were managing petty crimes or the regular bystander with a menial task, someone like—

Marinette?

There was no mistaking her, he'd know those bobbing pigtails anywhere, even if they were soaked and plastered to the skin of her neck. Her brows were furrowed the way they did when she was frustrated though her pace betrayed this, her walk measured and leisurely, he nearly forgot it was pouring. Her gaze was trained on the pavement with narrowed concentration, as if the muggy cobblestones held the relief to her vexation and would offer it if she looked hard enough.

The rain may have been uncomfortable for him but it did possess that seductive allure of quiet security as it casted everything in a lethargic haze. She looked so small and so soft, granted she was both those things—

But even against the misty haze of the afternoon deluge, she stood out.

In all honesty, she looked adorable and he couldn’t help it.

He chuckled.

Chat Noir made sure to let it all out because she may have been petite but Marinette gave as good as she got, and it was a lot. Most days it tickled him, she was such an enigma and he was eager to puzzle her out. Other times, it saddened him, that she could be so bold and impassioned with everyone except him, or the Adrien him at least. He thought they were long since past grudging first impressions but that didn’t explain the constant shyness around him. Was it because she could sense that his civilian self was the true mask and Chat Noir the more comfortable, open side of him? Marinette radiated genuineness, after all. It made sense that she wouldn’t take kindly to insincerity from anyone, least of all him. All of a sudden he understood her reservation—thought that he deserved it even.

He sighed and willed the gloomy thoughts to go away, no matter how much the dreary weather attempted to drive them to the forefront of his mind.

Deciding that he had watched her unnoticed long enough, he pounced to the building ahead of where she was walking and prowled on soundless feet down the fire escape, just in time to greet her upside down from where he was hanging upon the suspended ladder.

He smirked when she shrieked in a rather undignified manner, halting her steps gruffly so they wouldn't collide.

“Chat Noir!” she scolded once she had recovered, her hands bound in fists atop her hips and her head cocked to the side as she glared at him through slitted, blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he returned as he flipped and landed on the balls of his feet right in front of her. “I saw you and thought I'd drop by.”

He waggled his eyebrows. She was evidently not amused but that didn’t stop his mouth from twisting into a smug grin.

“I thought you were going home?”

“What made you think that?”

Her eyes widened, almost comically, and he gave her a curious look for it. “B-because the Akuma… I-I mean you… defeated it, right?”

His curiosity melted into concern as she turned into a flustered sight before him, the Marinette he was more familiar with as Adrien.

“Were you nearby?” he stepped closer, grasping at her shoulders and trying to be level-headed while surreptitiously scanning her for injuries. “Were you hurt? Is that why you’re walking so slowly?”

Whatever had frazzled her seemed to have evaporated along with what little of his good humor had remained. But her face softened, and so did the tense set of her shoulders that he was unaware of till it was sagging beneath his palms. Her hands cupped his elbows as she calmly coaxed his grip from its firm grasp on her shoulders, till his hold too rested on her elbows.

“No, chaton,” she whispered against the skin of his cheek as she placed a light kiss there. He breathed a sigh of relief. “I locked myself inside the fabric store I was visiting around the area, after helping some other passersby, of course—” he grunted because of course she did, “—and afterwards, I decided to walk home. I just… I happen to love the rain.”

A soft smile stole across her lips and everything about her felt so familiar then—her voice, her face, even her words, and the pieces of him that were shattered tingled in excitable recognition. Her presence seemed to fill the hollow spaces he thought only Ladybug or his mother could occupy but never would because had he ever been worth staying for? Would he ever be enough?

Perhaps he wouldn’t be. But when he was near Marinette, he forgot about all that. She made him feel like he would be okay, that maybe he was deserving of affection despite how lacking he was.

So he kissed her forehead and rubbed at the soaked clothes covering her biceps when he felt her shiver. “Why am I always catching you in the rain?” he murmured. She pulled away, just enough so she could look at him without getting cross-eyed, a question painted on her visage. He merely gave her a secretive smile that in no way assuaged her.

He remembered that day well.

Even before he had been bequeathed the Miraculous, he'd had an aversion to rain that only magnified when he became Chat Noir. The rain wasn't as bad then as it was now, but he carried an umbrella with him the moment he saw the cloudy skies that morning. Giving it to Marinette at the expense of his comfort had been more than making amends. From the beginning he was intrigued by her—with the fervor and spirit she defended herself and others. He was captivated by her even then, a captivation that only intensified as time wore on and she seemed to open to him, more so when he was Chat Noir. But that instance beneath the cloudburst had been the genesis of them, and it was meaningful to him as she'd been one of the first friends he made, the first to have shared belly-aching, lighthearted laughter with. He often tried to (jokingly) sneak into her room to peek if she had kept his black umbrella—if the memory held a semblance of significance to her like it did to him. Speaking of...

He brought out his baton and after a few clicks, transformed it into an umbrella, and hoped that would serve as a better distraction from his earlier slip. He was not wrong.

“I didn't know your baton could do that.”

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about it,” he replied with a devious twinkle in his eye. “I could show you what else my baton is capable of.” He winked at her and she shoved him. He laughed heartily, having been subjected to her exasperation many times before for similar quips, expecting it and enjoying it even. For all her eye rolls and snippy huffs, they were infinitesimal compared to the smiles and the giggles she occasionally bestowed upon him if he was particularly clever.

(He endeavoured to always be clever)

“It's not something I broadcast. Not even Ladybug knows about it, I think. I gotta have some secrets to myself.”

“Yet you just shared it with me,” she prompted, teasing. He shrugged.

“I trust you,” he answered honestly because in that he had no doubt.

Straightening from his feigned wounded crouch, he propped the umbrella between them. Struck, and perhaps humbled from his pronouncement, she wrapped her fingers around the arm he offered her as he murmured, “I think it's time I took this princess home.”

She wrinkled her nose and he barely refrained from bopping it with his finger cause it meant they'd have to let go. But ugh, she was so damn cute.

“You always call me that.”

They began the trek to her residence and where he was once apprehensive of her dilatory gait, he was now grateful as it meant he got to spend more time with her.

At her observation, he offered another shrug. “You always call me kitten,” he pointed out.

You and Ladybug, now that he thought about it.

“That’s because you are one, minou.”

As if to emphasize her point, she reached up and scratched at the spot behind his cat ear that he dearly loved and he was helpless against the purr that emitted from him. When she withdrew with a giggle, he pouted.

“Does it bother you?”

That was the last thing he wanted her to be, but she shook her head and smiled reassuringly.

“Well, if not a princess then what?”

It was her turn to shrug. “I don't know. I mean, I'm… just Marinette.”

She wasn't just anything but he didn't voice that. Instead, he said, “Okay, just Marinette. You may not see yourself as a princess, but you’ll always have a loyal knight in me.”

It was the corniest thing he had ever said yet, and though he meant it in good humor it came out more staid than he intended. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He and Marinette had held conversations in the past, more often as Chat Noir than as Adrien, and both were appreciated by him all the same. Being around her made him feel safe, made him feel seen. When crippling forlornness threatened to suffocate him, it was Marinette he turned to for solace. Though she made it easy to talk, they had never ventured into such poignant territory.

God damn rain, he grumbled, for he was sure it was responsible for the vulnerability it provoked within him. As if privy to his thoughts, lightning erupted in the sky, followed closely by thunder. He barely suppressed the urge to mewl, however he did shudder. Was it too much to ask that Marinette not notice?

She clicked her tongue. “Is my brave knight afraid of a little thunder?”

Apparently, it was.

“No,” he muttered petulantly.

“It's okay,” she giggled, giving his arm a genial squeeze. I'll protect you if you protect me.”

It was a susurrous promise in his ear that had his heart both thudding and reposing. So he wasn't the only one affected by the stupor brought on by the rain.

“Always,” he vowed softly.

She smiled, enchanting and lovely, and huddled closer to his side. With her chin resting on his shoulder, he let out a contented sigh. The rest of the walk continued in agreeable silence—both so at ease with each other’s presence that there was no need for words, the shrieking pitter-patter of the rain the soundtrack to their stroll.

Dread, however, churned an angry storm in his stomach at the growing sight of the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. He didn't want to leave her, an impetus that constantly emerged whenever he visited her at night and one that was even larger in the light of day. As an Agreste, there was a lot he could possess with a mere word or snap of his finger, and still there was little he treasured more than the friendships he'd formed since he began public school. If this walk in the drenched and desolate Parisian streets had taught him anything it's that Marinette's companionship, even if it was with Chat Noir, was something he most coveted—had learned to rely on. He resolved to make more of an effort with her when he was Adrien, propriety and his father’s expectations be damned. He was most himself when he was with Marinette and with Ladybug too but as it was, it was her preference to keep their personal lives separate—and it was high time he wore off the mask with at least one of the two most important women in his life.

With that decision in mind, the ball of anxiety in his gut loosened albeit by a miniscule knot. He supposed it would have to do. Marinette was leading him to the front door of the building's abode where he would be dropping her off and he would have to go home some time if he didn’t want Nathalie or god forbid his father to notice his absence and Plagg was bound to be getting tired now and—

“What are you doing?” he exclaimed in utter bewilderment as she opened her door without letting go of him then proceeded to use her grip to drag him through the entrance. He dug his heels in but to his surprise, she was astuciously strong. “What’s happening right now?”

She gave him a look that clearly conveyed how idiotic she thought he was.

“Do you honestly think I'm going to let you back out in this weather?”

“I’ve got my baton and my suit will keep me warm.”

“Your little parasol—”

“Hey!” So his baton-brella was shiny. It was sleek and still very manly.

“—will do you no good. You hate the rain!”

Was he that obvious? He shot an apprehensive look at the door adjacent to the entryway, where the bakery lay.

“What about your parents?”

“Mama!” she called as she took off her shoes and placed them in a closet just across. “Papa!”

Adrien felt his eyes widen and full-blown panic bloomed in his chest. He gestured wildly at Marinette, limbs flailing in what he hoped she took as a sign to ‘abort, abort!’ but she hardly batted an eye at his antics.

He inched further from the entrance.

Through the wooden doorway that was the bakery’s back entrance, a booming voice replied. “Daughter, is that you?”

Rolling her eyes, Marinette crossed her arms and huffily replied, “Unless you have another child I don't know about hidden away somewhere here then yes! It's me!”

Under her breath, she whined, “He does this every time, who else would call him papa?”

He wanted to chortle, but all he managed was a shaky chuckle that died down anyway when the door opened to reveal the bear of a man that was Marinette's father. He bore an imposing figure, one to match Gorilla's for sure, and at first glance Adrien had been intimidated. But then he affected such a joyous air, punctuated by the smile perpetually etched on his face—piercing even through his groomed, handlebar moustache—that it was hard to imagine him as anything other than a gentle giant that radiated the sun.

“It is you!” he vociferated with unnecessary dramatic flair, sweeping Marinette into a hug that lifted her off her feet before he unceremoniously dropped her. “Ew, wet!”

Marinette cackled. “Serves you right.” Then she executed a delightful hop to kiss her father on the cheek, careful not to get any more of her damp clothes on him. He received it with an outstretched chin and a broad, close-lipped smile, as if there was no better bounty than to be in Marinette’s presence.

Adrien's heart swelled. He knew the feeling well.

But then Tom trained his gaze on him and he felt the goofy grin that had dominated his mouth slip as his nerves returned.

He may have been around adults most of his life but he'd never had to meet parents, with the exception of Chloé's father and even that felt so far removed from this situation. He'd never had the chance, the luxury, to have the kind of friends that invited him over to their houses. Not to mention the implications of Marinette bringing a boy home, and not to toot his own horn or anything, but when he was Chat Noir he was no regular boy.

He was suddenly grateful he got caught in the rain as his dampness hid the way sweat beaded at his temples.

“I see you've brought home a stray,” he observed, his manner gruff. Adrien blanched.

He tried to sound suave, and later he would despair at his lack of a backbone, but for now all he could manage was a squeaky, “M-monsieur Dupain!”

Marinette’s mouth was puckered though he couldn't tell whether it was in a pout or in pitifully contained joviality at his expense. “Be nice, papa.” She scolded airily. “It was raining cats and dogs out there, I might as well drag one in.”

“Marinette?” Adrien whispered. “Marinette, Marinette.” He was so dumbfounded with awe he forgot to be terrified. “Did you just make two cat jokes in one sentence?”

Monsieur Dupain's exploding laughter was enough answer for him, and he found himself joining in the chortles when the man clapped a hand to his shoulder and Marinette finally, finally graced him with that toothy grin he loved so much—the one that felt like every bit of light in the world came from her smile, the one he now knew she inherited from her father, who gave his hair a ribbing shuffle.

“At ease, son,” he spoke good-naturedly. “It's not everyday Chat Noir escorts my daughter home safely from the rain. You have my thanks.”

He didn't realize he was leaning into Tom's hand until the man pulled away from petting his locks. He trained his gaze to the floor. He bit his lip and shifted in his place, uncharacteristically shy at the praise when he would normally lap at any attention—the sincerity in the pronouncement, so like Marinette, disarming him. He was saved from having to stutter a reply when monsieur Dupain concentrated on Marinette.

“And you! My clever, clever girl.” He gave her a smacking kiss on the forehead that had her blushing from her scalp to her delicate neck. Adrien found himself grinning as he relaxed.

“Next thing you know, you'll be punning,” his grin sharpened into a smirk. “I'll make sure of it.”

“‘Punning’ is not a word,” she retorted haughtily before adding, “and in your dreams, kitty.” It was snarky but the comment had no real edge to it, not when they were all dissolving into bubbly giggles.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” someone admonished from the top of the staircase, effectively silencing all three of them. “Did you get caught in the rain, again?”

Quick as a whip, madame Cheng went down the steps on light feet, one towel slung over her shoulder and another spread on her hands, which she promptly flung towards the sopping mess that was Marinette. She rubbed vigorously at her head so that when she pulled away, Marinette’s hair was a curling, frizzing mass of midnight tendrils. Beside him, monsieur Dupain released a snicker that fell just as quickly as it rose when madame Cheng’s disapproving stare landed on him.

“Tom!” she clicked her tongue and cocked her hip, a perfect echo of Marinette in irritation that he would have smiled if his nerves hadn't returned tenfold. “Can’t you see her shaking? She'll catch her death standing here, they both will!”

It was then he noticed he was still standing at the threshold of their dwelling, loitering around like the stray monsieur Dupain teased he was. He figured it was time he took his leave, he didn't want Marinette to get sick either and standing at the open door with the wind gusting in surely wasn't helping. He glanced at the solemn skies and quivered in his boots. He wouldn't enjoy the trudge back but Adrien knew enough about social graces to tell when he had overstayed his welcome. Knocking his heels together with a jittery jerk, he was about to give a two-fingered salute when madame Cheng threw the second towel over his head.

His vision obscured by fluffy, white cotton, he had no choice but to double over as Marinette's mother dried his head, surprisingly mindful of his cat ears as she patted him in a significantly more gentle manner than she did Marinette. Honestly, he didn't know whether to purr or laugh. In his befuddlement, he did an odd combination of both and emitted a rather choked yowl as he tried to duck away from her.

“Er, madame Cheng,” he started, stricken breathless at the strange turn of events when she finally let up and closed the door behind him. “This… this isn't necessary.”

Yet he found himself clinging to the towel around his neck where she left it after moving from his hair to mildly pat at his face. And though he stayed by the entryway, he did not motion to leave.

“Nonsense! I won't have one half of Paris’ superhero duo roving in this awful weather when he can be perfectly snug in here!”

As if privy to madame Cheng's ire—outside, lightning split the sky followed by a clap of thunder so roaring he felt it rattle his bones. He grit his teeth.

“If you think Akumas are bad…” monsieur Dupain goaded after glancing at Adrien, no doubt noticing his discomfort. He wanted to be embarrassed but found he was more grateful for the facetiousness, if not wary of madame Cheng's reaction. Marinette and her father had no such qualms, though she did bite her lip to stifle the guffaw that threatened to spill from her lips.

“Children,” madame Cheng deadpanned. “I have two children.”

Tom hummed, pressing a doting kiss on his wife's forehead that, judging by the way the corners of her mouth tilted up, negated his erstwhile badinage.

“Well, lucky for both of you—you're just in time for dinner,” she stated. “I know it's leftover night but I couldn't resist making wanton noodle soup—” damn, he speculated. That sounded, and now that he thought about it, smelled, divine, “—nothing like a little home-cooked brew to heat the cockles on days like these, oui? And there's all that extra catering food from the other day, that one's Italian so you bet we have a little bit of everything—pasta, pizza, bread, you name it. I've got chopsuey for veggies and some coq a vin too, if you wanted? You're staying for dinner, of course.”

“Sabine, mamour,” monsieur Dupain said behind an amused smile, “let the boy speak. Maybe decide for himself, hmm?”

All three Dupain-Chengs whipped their heads towards him and he felt sheepish at their concentration. He looked to Marinette, who merely shrugged haplessly before smirking. He wanted to stick his tongue out at her but restrained himself out of respect for her parents. She was throwing him out to the wolves here! Not that they were wolves, it was just—

“I wouldn't want to intrude…”

Madame Cheng laid a comforting hand on his arm, her smile welcoming as she murmured, “You are not intruding, Chat Noir.”

“But—”

Just then, his stomach growled. Like, literally growled. There was no other word for the monstrous gurgle that emanated from him.

He slapped a hand to his middle just as Marinette could no longer repress herself and cracked up, her derision long time building. Monsieur Dupain clapped a hand over his mouth. Madame Cheng was chastising her daughter, to no avail (the traitor), though her eyes and mouth were tight with laugh lines. His face felt like it was on fire.

“I guess that answers that question,” monsieur Dupain mused out loud.

He wanted to die.

Adrien tried to draw on all the bravado Chat Noir's anonymity afforded him. But they weren't Akumatized victims that needed distracting. These were Marinette's parents and he wanted to charm them, not irritate them. They'd had few interactions when he was his civilian self, nonexistent when he was Chat Noir, today notwithstanding. But even with the limited opportunities for conversation, he all ready knew he adored them the way he adored Marinette.

He liked them, and desired for them to like him.

Did the situation call for his superhero persona then? Chat Noir was boisterous and charismatic, not to say that he wasn't when he was only Adrien. But such moments blossomed when he was around friends and even then, it was significantly more reserved than Chat. He had been in public school for just shy of two years now, so it was no surprise that he fell back on Adrien in times of doubt, drawing on years of formal, etiquette training as he straightened his spine, folded his hands behind his back and gave them a bland smile.

“I am a little hungry.”

A snort. “A little?”

“Marinette!”

Madame Cheng withdrew her touch from his arm to wag a finger at Marinette who had the decency to look chagrined.

“You're having dinner. That's final.”

“Yes, madame.”

She startled. “Goodness dear, you make me sound awful old!”

“Oh,” he grimaced and refrained from rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, that is not my intention at all.”

“It's not really a bother,” she reassured. “But Sabine will do just fine.”

“And you can call me Tom, too. Monsieur Dupain makes me feel like my father’s right behind me!”

He chuckled and Adrien's smile became less forced.

“If it pleases you,” he murmured.

“It does,” they echoed.

Marinette glanced at him with a strange look on her face, probably questioning his formality but he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze head on. Instead, he glimpsed at her parents. Sabine slotted herself to her husband's side as if she belonged there and only there, their bodies attuned like extensions of one another despite the glaring height difference.

Adrien tried not to stare, it was rude. He was just both flummoxed and amazed, maybe even a little sad too. To see the Dupain-Chengs so open with one another, so free with their affections—Tom winding an arm around his wife's shoulders, while Marinette clasped at his other, Sabine fussing over her with the towel once more, her tone sharp even as her eyes glowed with fondness.

A pang of longing washed over him. He had never felt more like an outsider and that was quite a feat, as Adrien lived in a constant state of isolation though he tried not to show it.

But then—Sabine extended her arm towards him.

“Come on up!”

He regarded her hand with a modicum of caution. Not at her, never at her. But what was he doing? He didn't belong here, not when he was a dark cloud of melancholy in this resplendent safe haven. He had never known such tenderness, had forgotten what it was to be cared for the way only a mother's hands could provide. He didn't want to taint this, to taint them. A selfish part of him whispered that he didn't know these people but he could be sure of one thing—everybody left.

And maybe he didn't want to be the one standing alone again.

“Chat?”

Marinette's bluebell eyes met his, and it was like staring up at a blazing, cerulean sky. He felt the harrowing, adumbration that was his tenebrous thoughts lift its foggy thrall on him.

“It's alright,” she murmured soothingly, as if she had a direct line to his head though she couldn't have possibly known what he was thinking.

“S-sorry,” he stammered. “Yes. I shall stay. Thank you for offering.”

In his state (which was, so embarrassing), he failed to notice Tom's absence, but he could hear him in the bakery. It was near seven, so it was safe to assume he had gone to lock up the shop. Sabine was on his right, patting at his cheek with the towel again as she led him by the elbow up the staircase and into their residence. On his other side, Marinette's fingers brushed his. Anyone else would have seen it as an accident but he recognized it for the sign of support it was, and not for the first time he was grateful they were friends no matter what form he took.

“So make yourself at home,” Sabine was telling. “I’ll just grab a change of clothes for you.”

Wait, what?

He must have said this aloud since Sabine shook her head at him. “You might get a fever if you stay in that suit any longer so let me fetch you something dry. Tom is certainly larger than you but I'm sure I can scrounge through some of his older things.”

“Mada—er, Sabine,” he corrected himself at her wayward, reproving look. “That really isn't necessary.”

His ring beeped and he groaned. It seemed Plagg wasn't giving him a choice in the matter.

“You're about to detransform, Chat,” Marinette said. “I have a mask for you to wear, if your secret identity is what you're worried about. We don't want to make you uncomfortable either.”

He wasn't—worried that was. But he didn't want to put them in danger by revealing himself. And honestly, as fun as it was having Marinette as a classmate, he far preferred the moments they had together when he was Chat Noir. He didn't want that to fade, he couldn't bear the shift in those depthless orbs if she knew who he was and the distance between her and Adrien yawned between her and Chat Noir.

“Do you often have masks laying around for any superhero who visits your home?” he joked, though considerably more subdued. “And I thought I was special.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you want it or would you rather perish in this cold?”

“So dramatic,” he sighed, feigning at being put out.

“You two are too cute,” Sabine cooed. He and Marinette blushed at the reminder that they weren't alone. Mon dieu, he forgot that they weren't supposed to be all that familiar with each other. Had he given them away? Her mother looked far from angry, if anything she seemed pleased.

“Stay here and keep each other company for a bit. I’ll get those clothes then you can both change.”

“Actually, mama, I've got a sweatshirt for Chat. If you could just provide the bottoms?”

“If you say so, dear.”

Sabine disappeared into a room next to the main entrance, leaving them in the living room. As soon as the door closed behind her, he whirled on Marinette, flicking his tail at her bottom. She yelped.

“Hey!”

He crossed his arms. “You don't get to hey indignantly! I do!”

Her face was a perfect picture of incredulity. “Did you just—did you just slap my butt?”

His face burned (had it ever reverted to its normal state since he got here?) at the implication.

“There was no slapping, my tail lightly grazed your derrière,” he said this very quickly, “and don't change the subject!” He held firm and willed his cheeks to cool as he pasted on a stern expression. “What was that about?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” she brought a hand to her bottom. “I can't believe you slapped my butt!”

“What do you mean? It was a light graze!” he groaned. “And stop turning this around!”

“‘Yes madame’? ‘If it pleases you’? What is this, Les Mis? ”

“I'd make a beautiful Cosette, true.” To emphasize this, he ruffled his golden locks like the model he was when his true aim was to douse her with tiny droplets of water. She screeched.

“Chat!”

“That’s just the way I talk. I call Ladybug, ‘milady', remember? It's not exactly a term of endearment you'd lump in with ‘bae’!”

“I know how you speak, but that?” she shook her head, a sudden despondency occupying her mouth, pulling down the corners in a way that made him sick to see.

I did that, he brooded.

“You were so… polite—”

“I'm nothing, if not a gentleman,” he averred, slightly affronted at the insinuation he was otherwise, though he knew that wasn't what she meant. Marinette was too discerning for her own good and he clutched the towel at his neck with both hands to quell the disquiet that rose within him at her introspective gleam.

Her frown deepened. “That's not the right word, then. You were tame?” she sighed, anxiety evident in the lines that creased her forehead as that furrow from when he first saw her reappeared with a vengeance. “You sounded… empty. It was—” she gulped. “It was haunting, and I'm worried about you. Is it something my parents said? Something I did?”

“No,” he was quick to assuage because it was the truth and he wanted no blame to anchor her, least of all on his account. “No, no.” He sensed she was far from convinced so he nuzzled first at her cheek till her breath was a balmy and measured zephyr against his skin. Only then did he move to her neck, planting a quick peck to the exposed skin above her collar before resting his forehead on her shoulder.

“It's me.”

All I do is cause pain, he wanted to say. Instead, “I just... don't like the rain.”

She brought a tentative hand up to the small of his back and rubbed small circles onto it.

“Chat…”

“I really, really don't like the rain?”

She huffed, “I won't push you,” though she did soften against him, nosing at the hair by his ear as the tension lining her shoulders gradually drifted away. “But I do wish you'd tell me, mon minou. ”

My, she said. My kitten. She'd never said that before and especially not with so much gravity—so much intent and possessiveness.

Hers.

His heart soared.

Yours, he mouthed against her flesh—he quite liked the sound of that.

It was what prompted him to confess, weighed down as he was with shame at such sentimental weakness that he couldn't find the courage to even look at her as he spoke.

So against the sanctity that was the hollow of her throat, he confided, “It was… it was raining. The day my mother…” he trailed off, unable to continue when a barrage of memories assaulted him—a rapid succession of flashing effigies he could scarcely form together and would have forgotten, were it not for the way pain tainted his recollections and tore his body every time he remembered.

She sucked in a sharp breath. “She… died?”

He laughed even if he was brimming with bitterness. “No. But I wonder if that would have been better.”

Marinette clenched his waist in reprimand, possibly shock too as she expelled a perturbed whine. “That’s not funny.”

“I didn’t think so when she left me behind, either.”

She had nothing to say for a while after that, which was fine with him. Words of consolation were inappropriate when his mother was very much alive, just... gone. Apologies were futile, it wasn't Marinette's fault nobody stayed for him.

For a few heartbeats they remained, his head on her shoulder and her hand on his waist, the only parts of them touching. The sweet scent of her overwhelmed him despite the prominent musk of rain that permeated the air around them. He breathed her in, and drew strength from her steady presence till the agonizing numbness withdrew from his bones and feeling returned to his knees, enough that he could stand on his own without leaning on Marinette.

Well, maybe just a little. He touched his forehead to hers.

“Everyone leaves. Why do people leave?” he absently pondered aloud, when what he truly meant was, why do people leave me? He hadn't really expected an answer, but Marinette had always possessed the uncanny ability to read him. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been thrown when she pushed on his shoulder and vehemently said, “She didn't deserve you, okay? Anyone who leaves doesn't deserve you. But Chat, you're the most hopeful person I know. Are you honestly going to stand here and tell me everyone leaves?” She demanded. “I mean, would you? Would you leave Ladybug? ”

Ladybug, who he loved. Ladybug, who was his partner and his other half. Ladybug, who wanted another and did not love him back. Ladybug…

Who he did not really know at all.

Still, the answer was a given.

“No,” he said with a sureness that she must have expected given her satisfied countenance. “I wouldn't leave her,” he answered. But with a little more softness and with utmost intentness, he added, “And I wouldn't leave you.”

Her eyes widened before they lowered to the ground, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she tried to wave off his comment. He would have none of that, now. Ladybug may have taken precedence in his heart, but when the dust settled and the thrill of the adventure faded, whose presence did he truly long for? When insidious doubt slithered in his mind, whose council did he seek? Who did he want to share everything with, from the quiet moments that rarely graced his day to the hopes and dreams he envisioned for his life? Who did he most want to steal time with?

Marinette had gradually crept and crawled her way in. She buried and burrowed herself, till the gaps that made up his patchwork soul felt flowing with effulgence.

Till they were molded in the shape of her.

He tilted her chin up and she followed, though her eyes remained averted.

“Marinette,” he murmured susurrously. He moved his hand away so he could cup both her cheeks, face framed between careful claws—urging her to look up, to see him. He needed her to know.

“Marinette.”

She looked up then, at the urgency with which he said her name, and Adrien started, “I wouldn't leave you. Ever. I—” I what?

What else had he been trying to say again? He rested his forehead atop hers once more, because he was a sinner seeking refuge and she felt heavenly against his skin. He wanted to thank her. He wanted to tell her that maybe his mom hadn't deserved him but he sure as hell didn't deserve Marinette. He couldn't seem to muster the right words, not when she stood on the tips of her toes so she could wrap her arms around his neck, not as she caressed the bridge of his nose with the tip of hers, nudging at the crease on his cheek and nestling there, lips finding purchase on the corner of his mouth. He could steal a kiss, or would it be a gift if she gave it freely? All he had to do was turn his head…

A jarring crash! sounded, followed by a poorly muffled curse.

They sprung apart—shock dropping like an anvil between them and breaking the glass ceiling that was their potent, emotional atmosphere. Adrien bottled his instinct to dig his claws into the walls out of fright and in lieu of doing so, returned his grip to the towel around his neck. He had leapt towards the kitchen, his back hitting the island counter. Across him, Marinette had fallen over the coffee table, her legs skewedly draped on the table top and her arms sprawled over the couch’s seat cushions. She would probably be nursing a bruise come morning if the sour and disgruntled look on her face was anything to go by. He grimaced. Next to him, a pair of portly limbs stuck out from beside the floor of the island table.

He rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Er…”

“Papa?” Marinette cried from her place on the ground.

A pause before a meek, “Yes?” followed.

Monsieur Dupain remained on the linoleum as he said this and Marinette groaned. Adrien bounded to her side to offer his assistance. Her pain seemed momentarily suspended as a whole new discomfort overtook her features and her blush returned.

They—they had nearly kissed. Here. In the living room of her home. In the living room of her home! And yet… they had nearly kissed. Who had leaned into who? Did that really matter, at this point? That her parents were feet away certainly hadn't warranted any significance to them at the time.

Still, the thought came to him, unbidden—he wished they hadn't stopped.

He wished they had kissed.

He held out his arm and she placed her hand in his. He pulled her up, but in his jittery state had underestimated his strength. She stumbled onto him and he wrapped the arm that wasn't holding her hand around her waist to steady her. When she straightened, she was flushed against him, the downy curves of her lithe, womanly frame in absolute harmony with the firm lines of his figure.

He gulped.

Whatever cold had conquered him during the rain had dissipated. He was a livewire and Marinette the spark to light the fuse—he was ablaze. Every nerve, muscle and cell had zeroed in on each point of contact. He inwardly swore at the way his tail flicked in response to the current of electricity that thrummed down the length of his back because it gave him away. Then again, perhaps he wasn't the only one whose actions were transparent. Perhaps he wasn't trying to hide what he was feeling from her, because of her. After all, he hadn't retreated his hold around her waist.

And she didn't seem inclined to let him go.

“Don't mind me!” Tom called and with a jolt of awareness, they let go of each other. What was the matter with him? He had to do stop doing this. He had to control himself, her parents were right there for god's sake!

He crossed his arms to stifle the pressing need to touch her, while her hands enveloped her cheeks, as if that would be enough for her to vanquish the tell-tale signs of her bashfulness.

“What are you doing on the floor?” she asked, flabbergasted when her father didn't move from his prone position.

“I was just trying to put away some pastries.” Well, that solved the mystery of where Marinette inherited her clumsiness from. “I didn't want to disturb you two so I tried to be quiet but I tripped!”

He was going to die—scratch that, he was all ready dead, and this was the ninth circle of hell where he had to endure every sort of humiliation known to teenage-kind.

Her hands now encompassed her entire face and from behind the curtain of her palms she grumbled, “You didn't have to do that, papa.”

“It's okay! I didn't see anything!”

Don't say it isn't what it looks like, he chanted to himself. You're fine. Marinette’s fine (even if she has turned an alarming shade of red by her standards) and nothing happened. Nothing here suggests that you've done something incriminating so don't say it isn't what it looks like, don’t say it isn’t what it looks like, don’t say it isn’t—

“It isn't what it looks like!”

He was an idiot.

“Chat!” Marinette griped as she balled her hands into fists at her sides as if to withhold from punching him, her glare so murderous he felt like curling into a big, mass of regretful leather. He gave her a winning smile instead, and hoped it would be enough to dim her ire.

It wasn't.

“Just pretend I’m not here!” Her father barreled on, obviously unconvinced of Adrien's words. Marinette clapped a hand over her eyes and groaned.

“Okay,” she sighed, “this has gotten way out of hand—” She took a step forward but in her temporary blindness, must have miscalculated her step because one moment she was next to him and the next, she was falling over the coffee table again. She would have bumped her head against the corner, but Adrien was quicker and wound an arm around her waist once more. What he hadn't anticipated (again) was Marinette's strength, for just as he held her, she instinctively flailed for the closest solid thing to stop her fall.

He was the closest solid thing.

Adrien only had enough time to twist his body so that he received the brunt of the impact, landing on his back next to the coffee table with Marinette on top of him, her hands splayed on either side of his head to balance herself.

She was so red he could feel the heat emanating from her body, even through the damp cold of her clothes. He felt his own temperature rise, heedless to the pain throbbing around his shoulders and back. He should have apologized that he had allowed them both to fall, should have lent her a hand and gotten them both off the floor.

He should have let her go.

But then he tightened his arm around her middle, and he nearly purred at the soft hitch of her breath, chest to chest, her legs tangled in his, the soft skin of her—

“What is going on here?”

They turned their heads towards the source of sound and found Sabine staring down at them with a look on her face that, even upside down he could tell, was one of consummate perplexity.

She turned towards the kitchen and her eyes widened from the saucers they all ready were. “Tom? Is that you?” she took a step back and surveyed them. “What are you all doing on the floor?”

Silence met her as each one tried to prepare an explanation that would make the most sense (and would be the least embarrassing version) of the past half hour.

“It isn't what it looks like!”

“Marinette!” Adrien cried, even as he swallowed a laugh. He let loose a disbelieving breath.

She did not just say that!

“Shut up,” she averred in sibilating tones and through gritted teeth so as not to further rouse her mother’s suspicions.

He couldn't resist teasing her.

“You just said not—”

“Shut up.”

He did not.

“It really is, though, Sabine—what it looks like, that is.”

Marinette’s glare ascended to volcanic levels of intensity.

“What?” he insisted. “We really all fell.”

“The kids were having a moment—” Tom supplied.

“They were?” Sabine answered and Adrien was curious at the eager tilt to her inquiry.

“—and I tripped trying not to ruin it.”

“Oh, mamour,” she lamented with a feigned woeful hand to her cheek, “I think you failed.”

“No, he didn't!” Marinette rebuffed. “There was nothing to fail because there was no moment —”

“Oh, there most definitely was a moment.”

“Papa,” she rebuked exasperatedly. “There was no moment!”

“I mean,” Adrien started, goading her evident mortification even if it meant extending his own, “there was a little moment—”

“Chat Noir!” she shrilled.

Sabine actually shoved the sweatpants she was holding under her bicep to clap her hands and do a little hop. “Well, don't let us interrupt! What do you need? Do you want us to leave or…?”

“Oh my god,” Marinette breathed, grabbing the fabric from her mother as it was now Sabine’s turn to poke fun at her daughter. Tom joined her guffaws. “We're going. Now.”

Then, with that forceful grip of hers, she dug her fingers into his arm and dragged him up the stairs to her room.

(He had to hide a wince. She was so lissom! Where was all this strength coming from? He glanced at her body from the corner of his eye. Where was she hiding it?)

“That's right hun,” her mom called up to them, “just keep living in the moment!” Adrien laughed and Sabine winked before giving him a sly wave.

Marinette tugged harder.

To avoid tripping, he followed—having just enough time to wave back at her mom and hear her laughingly berate Tom to, “get off the floor, for goodness’ sake!”

“I’m telling you, Sabine,” he grunted, then the cacophony of objects tumbling to the floor as he muttered, “moment. ”

When they reached the top, Marinette shoved him inside her room and slammed the trap door behind them, further silencing the din that was her parents’ entertainment.

“What just happened?” It didn't seem like she was looking for a direct answer, her gaze darting about her room skittishly as she repeated, “No, seriously, what just happened?”

But he couldn't help himself.

“I think your parents ship us,” he quipped, poking at her side to rouse her from her apparent shock. She batted his hand away but he dodged her, nudging the pad of his finger onto the space just above the bend of her waist where he knew she was most weak. She squealed.

“They're terrible,” she panted. “And so are you.”

He stuck his tongue out and she shoved him, but without much force. He stayed her hands on his chest.

“I think they're wonderful,” he murmured, rubbing lightly at her knuckles. “They’re raising you, after all. And you're…”

Her fingers rippled over his suit, caressing his collarbones as she seemed to hold her breath.

“What?” she whispered.

“You're exquisite,” he said, his voice imbued with all the reverence he felt for her.

He expected her to hit him again, or at the very least roll her eyes. But Marinette always was one to surprise him, as she briefly broke their hold to boop him on the nose with one hand.

“Such a tomcat,” she said, voice not so much ribbing but calm, sleepy.

He'd even go so far as to say appreciative.

“Only for you, Princess.”

She narrowed her eyes at the nickname. “And Ladybug?”

The fondness had abated ever so slightly, replaced by a carefully crafted blank tone that was only betrayed by the indiscernible tautness to her mouth. She might have pouted, if it didn't reveal the vulnerability she seemed to want to keep from him. And he might have missed it, if he hadn't known her so well.

So with a solemnity he rarely displayed when he was Chat Noir, he said, “Ladybug doesn't like me like that, and I respect that.”

“But you like her like that,” she lamented, a knowing yet sorrowful gleam he couldn't decipher clouding her gaze.

Maybe that's changed, he wanted to tell her, especially if it meant he could erase whatever it was that had dimmed her propensity for effervescence. But then his ring beeped before he could further dive into the ocean of her eyes, and he sighed.

She flattened her palm along the side of his face till the tips of her fingers brushed the underside of his mask. When she withdrew, he felt positively bereft. He had never wanted so desperately to be rid of his suit. He yearned to hold her, feel the dips and crests of her hands or the warmth of her skin. He longed to mold himself to her figure till she filled his empty spaces and all he knew was Marinette, and whatever sadness that had plagued her banished because his shadows would only serve to brighten her light.

“Marinette…”

Say it, he implored himself.

His ring blasted another strident warning just then, and like a waft of smoke, the moment had drifted from his grasp.

“I'll get that mask for you,” she said, moving towards her closet where she retrieved the fabric along with another black garment apart from the pants her mother had provided.

“You never did answer my question.”

“What question?” she grunted while pulling forcefully on something. He smiled, despite himself.

“Why do you have a mask at the ready? If you wanted me out of my suit, all you had to do was ask,” he drawled. “You didn't have to use the rain as an excuse.”

She laughed. “You are so full of yourself, minou. ”

He tried not to frown petulantly that she hadn't tacked mon before the endearment. He failed. She released a triumphant crow as he assumed she found what she sought. He tried not to be charmed.

Again, he failed.

He prowled towards her and wrapped his tail around her calf, even as he crossed his arms and attempted to maintain a miffed mien.

“So why the mask, then?” Inexplicable jealousy clawed at his stomach like bile. “Is there another superhero?”

“In a manner of speaking,” she replied coyly.

His hair stood on end and it took all his wits to smother a growl. “Who?”

She laughed again, flicking a slick strand away from his forehead with her free hand when a vexed rumble still managed to sound from his throat.

“Relax,” her giggles continued as she twisted her fingers in his hair. “My cousin asked me to make him a Zorro costume last Halloween. This was just one of my trial masks that I kept for reference.”

His unwarranted haze of envy cleared at her blithe demeanor, and he found himself joining her chortles.

“Sorry,” he murmured, leaning into her touch when her hand stayed in his locks. “It's the Miraculous. Sometimes I can't help it when the feline instincts take over me and, well,” he shrugged feebly. “You're my friend, Marinette. I feel very…” possessive “... protective of you.”

Twice over, he yearned to tell her, when he was either Adrien and Chat Noir and she was nearby when an Akuma attacked. His eyes veered towards her and his body leaped to cover her and carry her to safety—every time.

“You don't have to worry,” she said. And the jesting manner with which she strived to convey her next words was lost when her laughter faded into a gratified hum as she rubbed at the sublime spot behind his cat ear while the tip of his nose ambled along the dewy arch between her nape and shoulder.

“You know you're the only one,” she sighed.

“Ton minou?” he asked into the skin of her neck, unable to look her in they eye as he spoke the question, his voice small.

“Oui,” she declared with not a hint of hesitance. “Mon minou. ”

His ring trilled. What was it now—the third time? The fourth? Either way, he was cutting it pretty close, and Marinette knew it too as she gently pushed him away and placed the clump of ebony garbs in his arms.

“You should change.”

He nodded. “I should.”

But he didn’t move from his spot, apart from his tail, which slunk from her calf to curl around her thighs.

“Tomcat,” she said again after clicking her tongue. “Are you going to slap my butt again?”

“Oh my god!” He rolled his eyes even as his face burned. “I wasn’t trying to slap it! It was a graze okay, I lightly grazed it—”

She laughed hard at his flustered state and he twisted his lips in a sulk though in truth, he was glad for the levity. Adrien didn't think he had ever in his life experienced such a wide range of emotions in so limited a time span as he had in the past hour. He had been wet and cold and hungry and mortified and exhausted to his bones. But he had also smiled, so wide that his cheeks throbbed from the gratuitous stretch of it. And he had laughed, the kind of laugh that left his stomach feeling as if he had gone through a hundred push-ups yet he was certain he would have done a hundred more, if it meant he could induce such laughter again. And sure, he was tired but it was inconsequential, welcomed even, because above all else—

He felt love.

It was unmistakably bizarre for such a sensation to arise, in this house of effulgence of which he was a penumbral interloper. Or perhaps it was for that very reason that he felt comfortable at all. For he knew love. And he knew his father loved him.

(Right?)

What little he knew of love, he learned from the man and that surely counted for something.

And he loved Ladybug—that had never been an issue... but was in love with her? Or had he been taken by the grandeur of two superheroes destined by forces that could only be speculatively attributed to the Universe and its magic determining they were meant to be together? If that was so, shouldn't he have been with Ladybug by now, instead of this unending game of cat and bug? A game in which only he was the player, chasing his tail more often than he was pursuing her, in love as she was with someone else. Besides, what was that about? Destiny or Fate or whatever it wanted to be called, who said They got to decide? Adrien all ready had so little control over most aspects of his life, would whom he gave his heart to be willed by someone other than himself, too?

So… did that mean he wasn't in love with Ladybug? And then there were his feelings for Marinette to consider. For what other explanation was there for the way he felt drawn to her? For this intense, almost frantic, need to see her smile and make her laugh? And what of the safety she incited in him, that he might be the one with powers but when it came down to it, she was the true hero simply because of the way she made him feel, like he was more than he truly was, like he was brave and whole and happy. Ladybug made his heart race but Marinette— Marinette made his heart soar. He didn't think that immediately meant he was in love with her. But with the fog that had been his admiration for Ladybug gradually lifting, it suddenly seemed so easy to fall for Marinette and he felt his heart flood open with possibilities for her—for them.

He groaned. Mon dieu, he didn't know what to feel!

In any case, he was more familiar with the aftermath of love, when the novelty faded and the scars were left behind. They were unseen to everyone and yet it had him feeling ugly all the same.

But not here... not when he was surrounded by the tenderheartedness of the Dupain-Chengs and most definitely not when he was consumed by Marinette’s incandescent aura.

As perplexed as he was, one thing was becoming quite clear to him—knowing of love was an entirely separate experience from feeling it.

“Chat?”

Unbeknownst to him, pensive as he was, Marinette had led him to her bathroom door. If laser vision was a part of his superpowers, he would have drilled a hole into the wood with how hard he had stared at it. Thankfully (or not, seeing as he had been walking in the rain), the only thing heated about him was his cheeks. He looked at her with an apology in his eyes. She returned her fingers to his leather mask and traced the lower edges as she tilted her head and asked, in a voice overflowing with concern, “Where did you go?”

“Nowhere,” he shook his head. “I think, for once—” He pinned her with a decisive stare. He infused pointed meaning into every word, syllable and letter he dared to say next, so there was no mistaking his sincerity.

“I’m exactly where I want to be.”

AN: I JUST HAVE A LOT OF SADRIEN AND MARICHAT FEELS OKAY XD Stay tuned for part 2 :)

Update: Read Part 2 here

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Magic Drawings - Gerard Way x Reader

Request: Heyo! I absolutely adore your writing, could you maybe do a harry potter universe where gerard is the quit but sassy ravenclaw and the female reader is a beater on the Gryffindor quidditch team and is basically loud and wild? Idk what the setting or the plot but it would mean the world to me! If not, it's okay too, I'd still adore writing (aaaand I'll shut up now) thank you!! Xxx

Reader: female

Word count: 3 748

“What the bloody hell was that,” Andy, the Gryffindor chaser shouted as the Bludger flew past him in just an inch’s distance.

“You didn’t get hit, did ya,” you shouted back, already on the search for the second Bludger that was doubtlessly on its way to kick someone off their broom.

Andy just growled and went back into formation, trying to get used to the new pattern they were flying in. The team captain shot you a disapproving glance. She knew that you loved scaring your mates, just for the fun of it, and you had never actually kicked someone off their broom because of a Bludger you had hit, but she was convinced that training was for getting better at the game, not for scaring your friends. In your own way you were training as well. During matches your opponents did not know that you were not really trying to hurt them, so they were always extremely scared when a ball shot into their direction, and confused when they did not get hit. That usually threw them out of formation, gaining some valuable seconds for your team’s chasers.

Soon the training was over, all of your teammates sweating from the hot weather. It was summer, most of the exams were over, and the Quidditch final was long over as well, yet your Captain still insisted on training, getting ready for the season next autumn. The sun was burning down on you, as you strode from the Quidditch pitch over to the lake where you had decided to go swimming after the training, wearing your swimming clothes already under your Quidditch gear. How was it possible that the summer was so warm up here in Scotland? You were from the south, used to mild winters and hot summers, so the amount of snow up here in the north was still overwhelming every year, but that the summers got just as hot as back home was even stranger.

You dropped in the sand by the lake, next to your friends Ray and Frank. They were lying on their towels, hair already wet from swimming, sand sticking to their soles.

“You made it,” Ray cheered as you pulled the dark red shirt over your head, revealing the top of your bikini.

“Whoa, Langley must have chased you around a lot, you’re totally drenched,” Frank giggled, noticing how little hairs were sticking to your sweaty forehead and neck.

“You don’t say,” you grimaced, “you don’t have something to drink by chance, do you?”

Both boys shook their head no, when a timid voice piped up behind you.

“Gerard, didn’t you pack something?”

You turned around, and were met with the sight of a boy you recognized as Mikey. He was in the same year as Frank, a year younger than you, and in Slytherin. A little further back stood his older brother, Gerard. Gerard was in your year, a quiet Ravenclaw who could usually be found in the library, drawing. He had perfected little sketches that moved around, and from overhearing a conversation with Ray you knew that he was currently working on making them respond with little comebacks when you talked to them. Gerard had been friends with Ray since year one, and had also befriended Frank over time, but you barely knew something about him since he never talked to you.

Gerard shot you a quick glance, and blushed when he saw you were only wearing the bikini top and some shorts, but moved to grab a bottle from the bag that was hanging from his shoulders. He handed it to you, and you thanked him with a smile before taking a few big gulps from the cool liquid.

When you screwed the bottle closed again a grin flashed over Gerard’s face.

“What,” you asked irritated.

“Let’s just hope I didn’t confuse this with the bottle where I keep the hair loss potion in, for potions on Monday,” he quietly said, a smug grin on his face.

“Excuse me,” you asked shocked, not sure if he was being serious.

“Whatever, we’ll notice,” Frank ignored Gerard’s little game, took the bottle from you and threw it back to his friend, “let’s go swimming.”

You got rid of your trousers as well, and together with Frank, Ray and Mikey you ran into the cold water. You were all screaming and rejoicing at the refreshment, splashing each other and laughing breathlessly, trying to get used to the temperature. Only Gerard was standing on the beach, watching the four of you.

“Why don’t you come in too,” you shouted, waving Gerard to come as well, but he just shook his head and tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Everything okay with him,” you asked, turning to Ray.

“He’s fine, he just doesn’t like taking of his shirt,” he answered, splashing Frank with some cold water.

You nodded, slightly confused. You were not the most confident person either, but taking off your shirt for a swim in the lake, especially on a hot day like this one, was definitely in your range of comfort. Absentmindedly you shrugged, and turned to look at Gerard again. He had sat down in the sand, his note book on his knees, pen in hand, and was drawing again. At least you assumed he was drawing.

“Ugh, something touched my foot,” Mikey screeched.

“That was the Giant Squid, I bet ya,” you laughed.

~*~

You spent so much time in the lake, laughing and swimming that you almost missed dinner. Unlike in winter, when the tables were filled with bean pastries, pumpkin juice and potato soups, in summer there were green bean salads, sandwiches with lots of vegetables and roasted zucchini with couscous. Together with all the others you sat at the Slytherin table, having joined some of Mikey’s friends. Your Quidditch mate Andy was also there, just telling everyone how you had almost kicked him off the broom with the Bludger you had smashed into his direction.

“It was so close,” he exclaimed, holding his fingers up, thumb and index finger almost touching.

“Oh come on,” you sighed, “it wasn’t that close.”

“Yes, yes it was,” he insisted.

You rolled your eyes and scooped up some of the couscous on your spoon.

“If you say so,” you mumbled.

“Maybe she just wanted to prove what an excellent shot she is,” Gerard winked.

You turned to him, surprised that he had contributed to the conversation.

“Uh, is this a crush I’m spotting,” Frank giggled, nudging Gerard who was sitting next to him.

“Shut up, Frankie,” you hissed, feeling your cheeks burn up with a blush.

A look over to Gerard told you he was feeling at least as embarrassed as you.

“No, that’s fine, I completely support it,” Frank laughed, but shut up after a look from Ray.

That evening you kept tossing and turning in bed, wondering why you had reacted so emotionally to Frank’s comment. It was not like you liked Gerard in a special way. You barely knew him. But he seemed nice and from class you knew he could be pretty sassy sometimes, especially when teachers were picking on his friends who were not as good as him or as quick to understand.

The next day was a Saturday. The sun was just as bright and strong as the day before, but over night the air had gotten cooler, so it was more comfortable to wander around outside. None of your friends had time to hang out, so after writing a letter to your grandmother, telling her you were finished with all the exams for the summer, and about your days since then, you started wandering over the grounds, until you ended up by the lake again. Not far from where you had set up your towels yesterday, you spotted Gerard sitting under a tree. For a moment you hesitated. Was it okay if you walked over to strike up a conversation? Did you know him well enough for that? To be honest, he had sat in classes with you for years, but after the events of yesterday afternoon and evening you had gotten curious about the quiet boy who always doodled into his notebook. So what, you thought, he would tell you if he wanted you to leave.

You took off your shoes and strolled over the soft and still morning dew cool sand until you reached the tree where he was sitting, notebook resting against his knee, pencil in hand.

“Hey,” you greeted, “can I join you?”

“Sure, sit down,” Gerard immediately offered when he recognised you, patting the soft moss next to him.

You did as asked and sat down, leaning back against the wide tree trunk behind you.

“What are you doing,” you asked curiously, when you noticed Gerard did not continue with his work.

“I was just drawing, wanna see,” he asked, already shifting the notebook so you could see well.

“I’d love to,” you smiled.

Somehow you felt honoured that even though he barely knew you, he trusted you enough already to show you his art.

You scooted a little closer, accidently brushing your arm against his; making both of you blush and you whispered a quick excuse.

Gerard skipped to the beginning of the book, showing you the first page. It was covered in tiny doodles of flowers and plants, ranking over the page. A single bee, the only spot of colour, flew from flower to flower. A tiny ‘whoa’ escaped you, making Gerard giggle. He turned the page and revealed the drawing of a dragon that had curled up in the centre of the page, his nose tucked under its tail.

“Hey,” Gerard gently tapped the paper next to the dragon and the tiny pencil figure awoke.

It lifted its head and sniffed towards you and Gerard, then it stood up to its hind legs, and spread its wings, yawning.

“I call her Susan,” Gerard grinned.

You were too fascinated by the little, moving drawing to notice Gerard watching your reaction closely. He loved the smile that spread over your face as you adoringly stretched out your finger to pet the little dragon that seemed to lean into your touch. He knew you as a loud, not insensible but extroverted person, someone who loved to move around and get into action. Having you sit here next to him, quietly watching his work was different from your usual behaviour, but he liked it, a lot.

He turned the page after saying good bye to Susan, showing you the surprisingly realistic drawing of a teapot and a cup. In an endless circle the teapot filled the cup, the cup broke and spilled the tea and the tea ran over the surface, out of the picture. Then a wand appeared, the cup got repaired and the next moment the teapot filled it again.

“Just a study for shadow and liquids,” Gerard explained, wanting to quickly turn the page, but you stopped him, taking hold of his hand and watching the process a few more times before you allowed him to show you the next picture.

The pages were filled with drawings, most of them moving, but some of them staying still. He had drawn plants, magical creatures, his cat, some of his friends, a Quidditch match, and landscapes with changing weather. The newer work also interacted with you. For example he had drawn a second dragon, where the letters ‘purr, purr’ appeared over his head when you ran the fingers over his scales. Another drawing was a sketch of Frank, that when asked what his favourite food was, answered in letters above Frank’s head ‘chicken stew’. You laughed at that a lot, both Gerard and you knowing Frank hated chicken stew and even was vegetarian. The last page that was drawn on, the one he had been working on before you had joined him, already displayed the outlines of what looked like a horse, or unicorn.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the skill he had.

“Thanks,” Gerard laughed, slightly embarrassed, but also incredibly proud, that you liked it.

For a while you sat on the moss together, staring out onto the lake, watching the sun climbing higher in the sky. Sometimes wind rippled over the water and in the distance you saw something that looked like the tentacle of the Giant Squid that reached out of the water for a few moments.

“If it’s okay for you, I’d love to draw you,” Gerard suddenly blurted out.

You looked at him wide eyed. Never had anyone asked if they could draw you. But coming from Gerard you understood it as a huge compliment, so you nodded slowly.

“Sure,” you answered, “what do you want me to do?”

“Uhm,” Gerard looked around a little helplessly. “Why don’t you just stay where you are, and I draw you from here?”

You nodded, feeling a little nervous.

“Which way do you want me to look,” you asked.

“I don’t know, maybe towards the lake?”

You nodded again and leant your head back against the tree behind you. You heard paper rustling as Gerard opened a new page and then the soft scratching of his pencil. You tried to focus on something, anything other than Gerard, and looked out over the lake. Some students were walking past you, ignoring the two of you completely. In the distance between the mountains a single cloud rose over the horizon. You watched the patch of white that first moved closer, but then got thinner and thinner until it was gone.

You heard how Gerard made short, quick and long, slow lines on the paper, but you resisted the urge to take a look. Sometimes you turned your head, just enough to look at him from the corner of your eyes. His black hair was falling into his eyes and every now and then he brushed it away vigorously. His eyes flickered between you and the paper, and his lips tucked upwards when he saw you watching him.

After a while you grew tired. The sun and the fresh air, the splashing of water and the even sound of Gerard’s pencil lulled you in and you closed your eyes.

“(Y/n)?”

Gerard’s soft voice tore you out of the light slumber you had fallen into.

“Hm?” You lifted your head and looked over.

“Sorry to wake you,” he smiled, “but I wanted to show you something.”

Curiously you scooted closer, waiting for him to adjust the notebook so you could see. He turned it to you and showed you his work. Just using his pencil he had drawn a beautiful portrait of you, your head resting against the bark of the tree, your eyes fixed on the lake. In the distance he had even sketched out the waves of the lake, the beach, more trees and a few of the castle towers that were visible from where you were sitting.

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathed.

“Watch this,” he grinned.

Gerard pulled out his wand and tapped it against the paper two times. He closed his eyes and seconds later the waves he had drawn started moving and invisible wind ruffled trough your drawn hair. You were about to make another compliment, when the drawn-you moved. She lifted her head up and turned it, a strand of hair blowing into her eyes, then a smile spread over her face, a bright smile that was full of hope and life.

“It’s amazing,” you whispered, “but it has one fault. You made me too beautiful.”

Gerard laughed. “No I didn’t! I did not even come close to paying your beauty the due respect.”

“I insist, this is way too beautiful to present me,” you giggled.

“I swear, I just drew what’s in front of me, as best as I could at least,” Gerard defended, not backing down.

“Oh no,” you shook your head, “I look more like- may I?”

Gerard handed you the notebook and opened a new page for you. You took the pencil and scribbled a grimace on the page. Considering you made an effort to make it look nasty, it still turned out pretty good for your standards, the years of doodling ugly faces on parchment during History of Magic and then turning to Ray and saying ‘this is you’, earning a giggle from him, finally paying off.

Gerard watched you in amusement.

“But if this is you,” he took the pencil and the book from you once you were finished, “this is me.”

He drew an even uglier face, that you were sure if you had seen it in real life, would give you nightmares for weeks.

“Uh, look at us, we’re so pretty,” you laughed as you watched him draw a drop of salvia run from his mouth.

“The prettiest ever, we should start a club,” Gerard laughed and added a circle and two stick arms and two stick legs to the in more detail drawn head, finishing the horrific drawing.

“Wait, I need a body too,” you leant over and took the pencil out of Gerard’s hand.

Leaning over in a weird angle you added the same body shape to your head, but in your hand, that was basically the end of the arm-line, you were holding a broom.

“Since I play Quidditch,” you explained, only now realising that you had basically been lying in Gerard’s lap, and quickly sat up.

“Uh, I have an idea,” he giggled, picking up his wand again, “let’s make you hit me with the broom!”

“No, why should I,” you complained.

“Maybe I was rude,” Gerard suggested, “By Merlin’s pants, this is drawn, nobody gets hurt.”

“What about his feelings,” you wondered.

Gerard picked up the pencil and drew a little apple at the end of his stick arm.

“I’ll throw the apple at you,” he decided, “then we’re even.”

“You’re weird,” you giggled, nudging his shoulder.

“I know,” he answered and picked his wand up again, tipping it against the paper twice and closing his eyes.

As the last time, the figures started moving a few moments later. The you in the drawing took the broom and hit Gerard on the head, accompanied with the letters ‘tock’ over him. As immediate response drawn-Gerard threw his apple at you, that collided with your forehead, the letters ‘tock’ appearing over you as well, before they both faded.

You expected the sequence to be over and judging by how Gerard laughed so did he, but much to both of your surprise, the figures just stood there for a moment, looking around, drawn-Gerard scratching his head.

“What-“ you mumbled.

Drawn-Gerard had lifted his stick-arm to his head and a little heart appeared that he blew over to drawn-you who caught the heart and pressed it against her chest, where it stuck, making both drawn-Gerard and real Gerard blush.

“That, I don’t know what that is, this was not supposed to- what?” Gerard stammered.

The sequence reset, your drawn-self hitting drawn-Gerard over the head with the broom again. Before the moving drawings could proceed any further, Gerard quickly slammed the notebook shut.

“I’m sorry, this was not- I mean, I didn’t-“ he stammered making you smile.

To be honest, you had been slightly confused at first, but obviously it was really cute. Nobody had ever blown you a kiss, well, apart from your parents when they had brought you to kindergarten. So you definitely appreciated the little, unintentional gesture that seemed to be terribly embarrassing to Gerard, considering how much he was blushing.

“Watch this,” you told him and pulled out your wand.

Taking it into your strong hand, you drew the shape of a heart into the air and with a tiny ‘blop’ cut out parchment in the same shape appeared in the air. You had tried to go for red paper, but white would do just as fine. The parchment flattered in the air for a moment, the two halves of the heart like butterfly wings, while you packed away your wand again. With a small gesture of your hand you sent the heart over to Gerard, who watched the little bit of magic perform with wide eyes and a soft smile on his face. Absentmindedly he stretched out his hand for the paper and it landed on his palm, the fluttering of its wings slowing down until it was laying still, just an ordinary piece of parchment.

“That was beautiful,” Gerard whispered quietly, not yet sure if he wanted to move. “You are so skilled.”

“Thank you, so are you,” you smiled.

You had done this trick dozen of times before, but usually with paper shaped like stars or a moon, to send messages to your friends.

“But not like this, this is just… wow,” he mumbled, examining the paper on his palm.

It was a simple white parchment, shaped like a heart, with well-defined edges. Nothing about it showed that it was of magical nature. Gerard pulled his hand back, secretly hoping you would not see how he pressed the paper against his chest for a moment, just like the drawn-you had done in his notebook.

“You know, next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend…,” he started, your sweet gesture giving him the confidence to ask what he would otherwise lack the courage to, no matter how sassy he could be at times. “I was wondering, maybe you would like to go to the Three Broomsticks together, get some butterbeer, or to Honeydukes, for some Never-Melting-Ice-Cream?”

You could tell he was nervous, his voice sounded different, but it did not matter, because so were you.

“I’d love to,” you quickly replied, earning a surprised smile from Gerard.

“Really? So cool! I mean… I, I really look forward to it,” he grinned.

“Me too,” you answered, now also starting to blush a little.

Gerard watched you for a moment, admiring the little pink flush on your cheeks and the sweet crinkles at the corners of your eyes when you were smiling. He could not wait for next weekend to come.

He took a deep breath and leant his head back against thee tree, looking out over the water. Suddenly he felt something warm and soft on his shoulder. When he tried to turn his head, his nose brushed against your hair, as you had rested your head against his shoulder. He smiled and nuzzled his cheek against your hair, looking back over the lake. No way would he going to move soon.

[okayyuvraaz]

rain at night

rain at night, or no, it started with trees swinging.. so shut the air conditioner down. We can't, must wait for the him to sleep. Going to washroom -enroute caught a sight of outside - weather was turning wonderful.. there was orange sky. So we went out, and sat on the stairs.. I was trying to sit peacefully, looking at the sky - dark, with that one star that's always there there - and trying to not look at the star more than it was enchanting at that time. Winds were strongly blowing, and soon it started to start by drizzling. i saw a reflection of golden streetlight forming on the tiled floor two steps down from me, and captured it.

And then I was somewhere else. When i returned, the reflection was more pronounced.. and it was raining heavily. Oh how beautiful was the sight and sound of it - just thousands of straight thin strands of jets falling all around that golden streelight. The main iron gate behind which I sat, had on it carved floral designs which glowed because golden streetlight backed them. And when one looked at the light itself - it looked like a sun faced man getting drenched violently - and that large ashoka tree in front of it, had it's leaves glistening, which when blurred were the perfect circle curious eyes of a child turned around looking at you. Sun was now even brighter! - and so those gates were beginning to have ribbons of golden and black hung the same way as on a birthday.

Ribbons were increasing in number each minute, as if somebody had been actually decorating that gate; the iron petals carved and every curve on the gate had droplets hung from them. And then i was looking up, or the lens was; when that, which is unhappenable happened. That sun faced man was in a trap! - a trap so beautiful, that it is hardly visible, unless put in a lot of fortune, and sight. It hardly ever happened before on a lens; it was always the eyes that saw it, but now it was there - vacuoles were in that net and almost in the centre of it was the drenching man; and shot by shot the web started to close-in, retaining it's tangibility though, until it was gone and the children on that tree lifted their arms up calling it again.

But why not go out do i? Because I haven't. Because I don't. Maybe the camera get's spoilt - mainly wet, and I am paranoid about it. But if you do see something in going out, do you really care about clothes going wet, or camera going wet, or feeling cold in it? (few days back with papa's camera I had gone out and shot things, while mine was getting charged.)

Ah no, I don't mind; it feels reluctant to step out though. next moment I was out.

Now the light fell on me too, felt cold, I slightly closed in; but no, I wasn't here for that, and I lifted up the arm and started shooting the signs of light - it felt good. I could do whatever. Nothing was stopping me - shooting the milky ribbons being decorated on the wall reflected from the milk can behind me, and soon the whole can reflected looking like a bride's head getting dressed with fresh wet white tulips. She looked happy.

The consuming spider that lay it's web was up somewhere looking down, even more parasitically baring enchanting layers of it's shrunk nest - it was a perfect noir scene. He was relishing something, giving flashes of light as a sign which moment by moment turned sharper like spirit of a cool ghost. The sun faced man and the children were also by now rejoicing, dancing, iron flowers opening up at four in the morning. It was all glistening and dramatic and golden and drowning and falling and splashing. we were inside a fort, which was amidst all things golden and wet, where leaves grew pearls and transportation had mini fairytale trains with circular boxes like the caterpillar in the childhood tale or graphic had.

Then mr. spider used his final weapon, unsuspectingly, from above dropping slight tangible tubes of lightning slowly on us, we were tickled - sensualized, and started shaking. Suprising to even us, we were glowing. Glowing in our true bright colors. Seeing this, he sent more of the tubes down - the tubes took their own mysterious shape after hitting us - soon the skys were observed dropping pearls which magnified would tell you what they were. His web was again observed at this point.

Existing plants glimmered while the new ones grew out of their shells shaking with excitement. You could see the potential. Their potential highlighted. Highlighted. In golden. The photographer by now was one of the most hit his eyes showed, because..

he reached an ocean, and forgot all about. It was half blue and half golden from the light. Everything he thus saw was poetically musical - a note in itself, even the sun on horizon surrounded by million other little suns around it. Freezed in moment was everything dripping and in dancing sway - the black white and grey walls, the branches of christmas tree, the long leaves of ashoka, the sharp long leaves of another plant and all others each wet in their own partial form, partly lighted, other half in dark - light currents flowing through all of them, now stagnant though - golden light, white light. Even one young one froze in the middle of his union with her: his mate - both in middle of orgasm, feeling it, but not getting out of it; until the web slowly extended to tickle them leading to a burst of WHITE light all over the walls, over the others. Everyone stood in honour, as now the streaming jets turned slightly oblique in their falling. There was silence. Everything looked more beautiful.

A white sun was seen falling, forming in the ground beside the foot of photographer, and when seen in his eyes lay also tiny circles of it.

Go in the rain.

While sleeping, the lens was seen to be too much inebriated, it showed graphics of bars and notes of all things that it had witnessed playing sometime back. With little worry, the photographer closed his eyes. And in the morning.

In the morning, when he held it up again, it displayed a bitten apple.

song that could be

[lovexthexflash]

My Drop Of Rain

Westallen AU fic by me (lovexthexflash), Chapters:1/1

Summary: Westallen AU fic: One may encounter a treasure and not even know that at the time. The realization may come too late. And the rest of one’s life will be spend in search of the lost and abandoned.

  A man approaches the curtained window in a small apartment. The drops tap on the window sill, creating a melancholic melody.

  27 years old man with shaggy brown hair. Dark circles are visible under his beautiful green eyes. He wears simple blue jeans and a warm gray sweater. Despite the fact that it is comfortable in the room, he opens the curtains and being unable to hide his trembling, crosses his arms trying to warm up. The monotone melody did not deceive him. It is raining outside.

  The man looks out the window. A young guy without an umbrella is standing on the sidewalk and getting wet in the rain. He does not even try to take cover. The man sees from the window that young guy’s windbreaker is soaked through. But the young person does not move. He only turns his head from side to side, as if he is waiting for someone, and the emotions from the upcoming meeting are much stronger than those inconveniences that he feels because of the incessant drops of water.

  Observing this view from the window, the green-eyed man remembered the most beautiful day from his life.

***

A few weeks ago

  The same kind of rain was flooding the streets of Star City in 2017. People who were caught by its cool drops. A couple was rushing under an umbrella in tandem, embracing each other.

  The railway station was not very crowded. Rush hour, when office clerks were going home, already passed.

  Loving couples were embracing without paying attention to others, apparently having decided to not lose a second of the precious time, which was provided by fate for their romantic relationships. Trembling young mothers with small children kept leaning towards their flesh and blood to make sure that their hands were warm, and all their skin was securely covered. Teenagers were quietly talking about something in the corner, hiding from the rain with old peolpe. All of them wanted to get home as fast as possible to brew their tea or even drink a glass of wine or beer to warm up in this bad weather.

  A guy about 27 years old was sitting on the bench and typing something quickly on his phone. He was wearing the usual, unremarkable classical clothing of casual style. A tweed shirt was hidden under a thick blue sweater. His dark trousers were ironed neatly, the boots were clean, even though it was raining outside. He lifted his green eyes in the frame of long eyelashes from the screen and, as if verifying the data, looked at the clock hanging over the arch, from where everyone was waiting for the train to appear. The scoreboard winked with orange numbers. The time was 20:00. A slightly breathless colombian man in a formal suit with a long coat sat down on the bench next to Barry. The young man put the phone into his pocket, turned to his neighbor and, smiling, started a routine conversation of people who meet by chance:

  - “The weather’s bad, isn’t it?”

  The colombian man supported an eternal and inexhaustible "weather" theme:

  - “Yeah! This rain unexpectedly caught a lot of people but I expected it and put on a coat before going out.”

  - “Oh, yeah, you’re lucky.” – said Barry. After a short pause, he asked, - “Do you know when the next train will arrive?”

  The colombian man was as old as Barry, he kept an emotional distance and answered as correctly as possible:

  - “This depends on where you want to go.”

  - “I’m going to Central City. My father lives there. I’m here first time, so I can’t navigate myself.”

  The colombian man looked at his watch slowly, bending his left hand, and replied:

  - “Ok. The train going that way is leaving in 10 - 15 minutes. Pass the Greenwich Bridge, pass one station, and get off on the next one. You will be in the right spot. Maybe you should write it down.”

  Barry nodded and held out his hand to the man:

  - “Thank you... I will remember. Barry.”

  The colombian man shook his strong hand and added with surprise:

  - “Sorry?”

  Barry smiled broadly:

  - “That is my name. My name is Barry.”

  - “Oh, I’m sorry. I did not hear. Well, I'm Cisco. Just Cisco.”

  - “Nice to meet you.”

  An awkward silence hung between the new acquaintances. Barry apologized and reached into his pocket, pulled out his mobile phone again. Meanwhile, Cisco was looking for something in his case. Barry looked at his phone and said aloud:

  - “Oh, damn! My battery is dying!”

  Cisco got distracted from the contents of his case and said politely:

  - “As usual, when you need it,” - and, having heard the sound of the approaching train in the distance, added, - “Your train, Barry!”

  Barry got up from the bench and hung his backpack on one shoulder. He looked at his mobile phone, as if expecting a miracle to happen. But the message was inexorable: “Low battery.”

  The train stopped at the platform. The people rushed to enter, as if this could speed up their reaching the comfort of their apartments. Barry nodded to the man with the cloak:

  - “Thank you, Cisco!”

  Cisco smiles at him and sincerely wishes:

  - “Good luck!”

    The train car was half empty and everyone who entered it from the platform found a place. Barry sat down by the window. There was no one next to him. The train was moving at high speed, passing some houses. Everything was flickering and rushing past so quickly that it was impossible to study anything in detail. Barry looked through the window a little and took the mobile phone out again and dialed the number.

  - “Hello, dad! I'm on the train, I’ll be there soon...”

  Not allowing the owner to continue the conversation, the phone squeaked plaintively and turned off. The battery died.

  - “Damn it! Indeed, at the most inopportune moment. Now I cannot miss that bridge. And I forgot what it is called.”

  Worrying, he looked out of the window again, glancing across the aisle to the other side. He looked to the left, then to the right. The bridge appeared. The train stopped at one of the stations. Barry regretted that there were no fellow travelers next to him. He got up and went towards the other passengers. The wagon came to life. Some passengers were getting off, others were getting on, bringing the smell of rain in. The train was standing still. Completely confused and not knowing what to do, Barry went directly to the woman sitting in a corner place, and asked hastily:

  - “Excuse me, have we passed the bridge yet?”

  The lady looked at him, clearly torn from her thoughts, and answered stammering slightly:

  - “Which bridge? You know there are a lot of bridges in this city, and we have already passed few of them. Where are you going?”

  Barry did not listen till the end, being afraid that he missed his station. He said brief words of gratitude and almost ran to the exit. The doors closed as soon as Barry jumped out of the wagon. Being confused, he was standing on the platform. There were no people as everyone hurried on to continue their journey home. Barry didn’t know what to do and where to go now. He looked around, realizing that the appearance of the station was unknown to him. He went to the information desk. There were an elderly woman and a man in a uniform of a guard sitting behind the plastic partition. The young man knocked on the window and it opened. There was a dutiful smile on the woman's face, which did not touch her tired eyes:

  - “Good evening. How can I help you?”

  Barry rejoiced, expecting his problem to be solved:

  - “Hello. It seems I am lost. Can you help me?”

  - “Yes, sure, what’s wrong?”

  - “You see, I think I passed my station. I have to go to Central City. Someone will meet me there.”

  The woman sighed with sympathy:

  - “You didn’t reach your destination yet, young man. It is another 50 miles to Central City.”

  Barry lowered his hands and hit the window sill slightly, giving the way out to his anger at himself.

  - “Hey, young man! Easy! It is too late. The train will arrive at 6:30. Do not worry! You'll spend the night here at the station. You will go home in the morning. There are empty benches and a machine with cookies and coffee in the corner if you get hungry.”

  The woman pointed at the benches and closed the window, making it clear that the

conversation was over. Barry stepped away from the booth and went to the benches. He sat down covering his face with hands. After a while he looked at the station clock. It showed 22:00. He took his mobile phone out of his pocket and tried to turn it on, but the battery was dead. He slightly beat his fist on the palm of his hand, took a deep breath and tried again. It didn’t work.

  Time passed. The clock at the station showed 23:00. Barry could not sit still. He was getting up, sitting down, lying down on a bench, slipping a backpack under his head. In boredom he got up and went to the exit.

    It was still drizzling outside. Barry was not even trying to hide. It seemed it was all the same to him. He went along the sidewalk and came to the alley leading to a small park. The lighting along the alley seemed to be inviting him for a leisurely walk and to think about something sublime and eternal. Barry had nowhere to hurry and he even felt a special feeling of charm of this strange night. He was no longer angry at himself for a stupid mistake. He was walking with small steps, admiring at the place, which seemed so mysterious and at the same time absolutely safe. He felt that he got a little wet, and droplets of rain were dripping from his hair, trying to make their way through the collar of his shirt. He saw a covered bench and noticed the silhouette of  the person sitting there. Barry soon saw it was a girl. Despite the canopy above the bench, her umbrella was open, and it was difficult to see her face. The enamored couple passed by laughing aloud, and happiness was heard in this sound. Barry went to the covered bench, looked at the girl and asked, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible, being afraid of frightening the stranger:

  - “Goodnight. Can I also take refuge? I don’t have an umbrella, and it seems my clothes are starting to get wet.”

  The girl looked at him. She had beautiful eyes, a clean and well-groomed face. Her curly hair were wet with rain. She had a black light raincoat. Without saying anything, she moved slightly to the side, making room. Barry sat down nearby without looking at her. After a moment she told him in a soft, gentle voice:

  - “Do you love rain?”

  Barry did not expect that the girl's first words addressed to him would be like that. He felt a mixed sense of surprise and confusion. He did not know what to say to the girl. But it seems that the answer was not important to her, because after a short pause she added:

  - “I love it!”

  Barry was sitting silently, looking to the right and to the left, occasionally throwing glances at the stranger and admiring her profile. Just to do something, without hope that a miracle would happen and the phone would work, he pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket again and looked at the dark screen. Actually, this was quite expected, but he hid his embarrassment behind this gesture.

  Time seemed to stop in this enchanting place with a mesmerizing knock on the canopy. Barry could not say exactly how long they had been sitting on the same bench, their shoulders were slightly touching. Perhaps, the silence lasted about five minutes or, maybe much longer. Barry was the first to interrupt it.

  - “It's quite noticeable.”

  It seemed to him that she even shuddered when she answered:

  - “What?”

  - “That you love rain. You are sitting with an open umbrella, but your hair is wet. This means you’ve been walking with a closed umbrella.”

  He noticed from the side how a smile appeared on the girl's face. But she didn’t turn her head in his direction and didn’t look at him.

  - “How smart you are! Like a famous detective!”

  Barry put his cell phone into the pocket, replying:

  - “I’m trying.”

  They were silent again, but Barry decided to take the initiative. He turned his head and looked at her.

  - “I am curious, what is such a beautiful girl doing in the park at this late hour? Alone. Do you live nearby?”

  But she didn’t turn to him. She looked straight ahead, answering with her silvery voice, touching the most secret corners of his soul:

  - “You’re curious.”

  Barry decided to dilute the situation with humor, but it turned out to be ridiculous and too ambiguous from the inexperienced guy:

  - “No, seriously. You do not even know me. What if I'm some kind of a maniac and attack you now? Or a criminal whom the police is looking for? Aren’t you afraid?”

  Neither fear nor alarm could be detected in the girl's voice. She joked enjoying the frivolous conversation:

  - “How do you know they aren’t looking for me? Where is the guarantee that I'm not a criminal?”

  Barry laughed noticing:

  - “Oh yeah... You would be a beautiful criminal.”

  - “Is this a compliment?”

  Barry smiled broadly and unconcernedly.

  - “As you wish. You made me laugh. I had such a terrible day, you won’t believe it. And by the end of the day, or rather, at the beginning of the new one, you gave me such positive feelings. I didn’t even think that I would be able to laugh today.”

  The girl continued to look straight without turning and moving. She sighed:

  - “I readily believe.”

  Barry continued:

  - “You know, sometimes you want to talk to someone, pour out your soul. I met you, talked to you and felt so much better. You are a cure for sorrows.”

  The girl laughed again without looking at the interlocutor.

  - “Did you compare me to a medicine? That’s interesting.”

  - “Definitely - yes, you are a medicine.”

  Both laughed as his assertion sounded so direct. The rain was not stopping. On the contrary, it was intensifying. Water was flowing from the roof of the shelter.

  - “I had a terrible day, too. But the rain made me forget everything. Under the rain you can hide your tears and sadness. Rain is my weakness. I will get totally wet, but I will continue to stand and enjoy every drop that is falling.”

  Barry was looking at the girl for a long time, being unable to take his eyes off her.  She interrupted the pause herself:

  - “You’re silent.”

  Barry shuddered, as if he woke up after hypnosis.

  - “No… Sorry? I got distracted. I don’t know. The rain brings slush and I don’t really like it. But judging by your words, it’s as if you were born in the rain.”

  - “You are right. How do you do it?”

  - “What?”

  - “Read my thoughts.”

  - “Well ... You are so in love with the rain that it is not difficult to notice.”

  The girl voiced her thoughts:

  - “If it hasn’t started raining, I would not have appeared here, and you would be sitting here alone.”

  Barry picked up the topic and expanded it:

  - “Yes... If I didn’t go to my friend’s party at the other end of the city, I would not be late for my train and would not get lost. Actually, I would not have come here and would not have met you.”

  - “Do you regret it?”

  Barry looked at her again, looked away and lowered his head. After a short pause he answered her:

  - “Yes, I regret that I went there. And the most ridiculous, and maybe sad, is that the battery died on my mobile phone. My father is probably tearing his hair out worrying about me.”

  - “As for me, I don’t regret I met you. You are a good companion.”

  Barry did not expect that she would say this. He looked at the stranger again.

  - “Thank you! No one has ever told me this before. Sounds trivial. But it is nice to be considered a good company.”

  - “No one has ever told me I am beautiful.”

  Barry's surprise was completely sincere:

  - “Are you kidding? You are very beautiful. You have unusually beautiful eyes. I cannot stop looking at you. I do not believe that no one has ever told you about this. It's easy to fall in love with you from the first glance.”

  - “Have you fallen in love with me?”

  Barry looked away. He got confused and began to make an excuse, embarrassed:

  - “No... No, of course. But, it's easy,” - he looked at her again and continued, - “to fall in love with you.”

  Silence ensued again. It was only possible to hear the water drain from the canopy above the bench.

  - “I wish this rain would stop sooner.”

  - “It won’t be soon.”

  Barry looked at the girl, admired the beauty of her hair, and then interrupted the song of the rain again:

  - “Do you live here?”

  - “Yeah, this city is beautiful. A few years ago I moved here to work.”

  - “Yeah, it’s beautiful.” - but now he was watching her.

  All of sudden, her telephone made a notification sound. The girl read her SMS and stopped smiling. She closed her umbrella and was about to get up. Barry grabbed her arm and asked anxiously:

  - “Are you leaving? Has something happened?

  The girl was holding an umbrella in her right hand.

  - “ I just have to go. And you have to go to your home. It’s too late.”

  The stranger got up from her place. Barry released her hand. He was watching how she was leaving. The girl kept walking and moving away from him and suddenly, he remembered that he hadn’t her name or telephone number.

    Time passed. Barry was going by the subway thoughtfully. He was dressed in a light black windbreaker. It was dark outside. The train stopped at the same station. Barry got off on the platform, passed by the booth and waved his hand greeting the same persons on duty.

  A man in uniform said to his colleague:

  - “Look, he's here again.”

  The woman shook her head and replied:

  - “For the fifth time. What did he find here? Two weeks ago he said that he was lost.”

  - “So, maybe he found someone?!”

  Barry went out to the street. The rain accompanied him again. He went to the park to that very bench. People were passing by. Someone was running to not get wet; the others were hiding under umbrellas. He was all wet, but he just looked at the empty covered bench, without entering it. The rain intensified, and he got all wet.

    This was repeating again and again. It was raining. Twilight came down to the city. Barry was wearing a brown jacket and a hat. He was standing near the covered empty bench and whispering quietly:

  - “Where are you?”

  He lifted his head up and looked at the sky. Drops of the rain were falling on his face.

  - “Where are you?! You said that you love rain! I come here every time it rains! You were brought here by the rain! You're like a drop of rain – you appeared and disappeared! Can you hear me? When you asked if I had fallen in love at first sight, I was frightened and answered: ‘No.’ I lied to you! And I do not regret even for a moment that I lost my way that day. Forgive me for not stopping you that time. I

will not get tired of coming here! Every time it rains I will come back to wait for you!”

  Barry lowered his head and said more quietly:

  - “I will be waiting for you!”

    Barry was lying in his bed in the dark room. His father, Henry Allen, sat next to him, anxiously touching his head:

  - “You have a fever. I'll bring you medicine."

  Henry got up, but before going to the kitchen, he came to the window and said, - “It's raining again. When will it stop?”

  Having heard the words of his dad, Barry jumped out of his bed and started to dress. Henry looked anxiously at him and asked:

  - “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

  Barry ignored his dad’s questions and put his jacket on. Henry tried to stop him:

  - “You are sick. You have a fever, a high temperature. You cannot go outside. You need bed rest.”

  Barry persuaded him gently:

  - “Dad, I have never asked anything from you. Please understand and don’t stop me.”

  - “But where will you go?"

  - “To search for her... She will come today.”

  - “Who? Where will she come?”

  - “She is... my drop of rain! And I feel that today she will come there.”

  Barry left and closed the door behind him.

***

  The guy standing at the window shook his head. During this time, he recalled every detail of that single meeting. Looking at the person, that was getting wet in the rain on the street, Barry recalled himself. He closed the curtains and left.

  After a while, Barry was beside the unfamiliar guy, holding an umbrella over his head and holding out his jacket to him. And by doing so, he looked at the opposite sidewalk and saw the girl he just thought about. She was alone and wearing pretty red dress under her black coat with red lipstick to match her dress. Barry couldn’t believe his eyes that he finally found her. Turning to the boy, he says:

  - “You can keep them.”

  - “Thank you, sir.”

  No longer looking at the young man, Barry was walking to the girl. He couldn’t get his eyes rid of her, because he was scared that if he does this, she will disappear. When he got close to her, the girl looked in his direction and smiled:

  - “You again.”

  - “Guilty.” – he said smiling and she laughed.

  - “If we saw each other again a few weeks ago, I would have thought that you’re spy on me.”

  - “How will be that possible?! I even don’t know your name.” - he said playfully.

  - “Well, I don’t know your name either, remember?”

  - “My name is Barry. Barry Allen.”

  - “I’m Iris. Iris West.”

  - “Well, Iris, you may not know but I was searching for you everytime when it’s raining. I was hoping I can see you again.”

  - “Oh, really? Why?”

  - “Maybe I have an attraction to you.” - he answered playfully.

  - “Maybe I have an attraction to you too.”

  - “So… where have you been?”

  - “Remember when I got SMS? It was saying that my mother suffered a crash and she was in the hospital.” - tears appeared in her eyes. - “She didn’t survive the night.”

  Without thinking Barry pulled her into a hug.

 - “I’m sorry.”

 - “Doctors could not do anything to help her. Her heart just… stopped.”

 - “Don’t think of that. Continue living your life. Your mother would want that. I know how you are feeling. My mother died when I was 11 years old.”

 - I’m sorry, Bear.

 - “Bear?”

 - “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean…”

 - “No, it’s nice. I like it. You can call me that. You can call me whatever you want.”

 Iris smiled. She has beautiful smile. Barry thought to himself.

 - “To be clear, today I tried to ‘continue living my life’. I had a date with co-worker.” – Barry didn’ say anything so she continue – “Two hours ago I was supposed to go on a date. My first real date since my mother died, but… at the last second I just… I couldn’t do it. At that second I remembered you and our conversation. When we talked, I had the feeling that I knew you. So freely I talked to you and I think that you know what I’m talking about. I felt some special bond to you. Also, you were very handsome, funny and made me compliments. I just… In that moment I wanted you by my side. Just to be there and comfort me.”

  - “Now I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Iris smiled again.

  - “And… I was searching for you to tell you that...”

  He didn’t continue and Iris saw that it’s torturing him, so she asked:

  - “What?”

  - “I think, no, I’m sure that… I fall in love with you from the first glance.”

  - “Oh! Wow, Barry…”

  - “No, please leave me explain. I know I lied to you about that, but how someone will say or know that for sure? For that reason I was searching for you. To tell you how I feel and ask you if you feel that way. Now I know 1000% I love you.”

  - “Well, I think somehow I hinted that I love you.”

  - “Well, I won’t be sure if you don’t say it clearly.”

  - “I 1000% love you, Barry Allen.”

  They laughed.

  - “I love you too, Iris West.”

  Then they kissed. Barry gently stroked his tongue over the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth, and she completely lost her ability to think. She could only feel, but, oh ... how she was feeling. Her skin tingled ... every inch of it, though he barely touched her. Iris melted. Her body was looking for the warmth of his.

  He ran his fingers in her hair, enjoying her silky softness. 

  - "Have I told you," - he whispered between the kisses - "that you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met?” 

  - “No, you haven’t.” 

  - “Well, you are. And sweet, and funny…” – he couldn’t finidhed, because her lips were on his. 

[spellyjane]

Big Island Splash, Mash, Dash!

Belated Aloha, forgive me for taking two weeks to write this!

I thought we had landed on the moon as I descended the plane stairs onto the island of black volcanic rubble. After nine plus hours of flying I had arrived at Triathlon Mecca, Kona, a little town on a wisp of land in the middle of a massive ocean, noisy with wind and hot as hades.

Hawaii is halfway between Sydney and Chicago so provided the perfect location for a rendezvous with my Dad whom I had not seen for over a year. (Aww, thanks for coming and sharing this with me Dad. ×××)

“Downtown” Kona is small and super cute but that week was COMPLETELY overrun with compression-wear trussed, trucker hat clad, slightly weather beaten, uber athletic types. I almost fit right in.

I was pleased to get up and out of the hype on my first night, having a home cooked meal with my dear friends Ben and Lillian at their B&B located on a flower farm way above Kona. Ben and Lillian are a fab couple I met running in Jersey City. I laughed off their prediction back in 2013 after my first 70.3 that I would one day race at Kona, thinking of course that will never happen because I will NEVER do an Ironman. I was beyond flattered to receive a message from these guys on my return home from IM Texas with my IMWC slot secured, telling me that they had booked their flights to Kona! Just wow.

At the suggestion of a friend I had signed up for the big charity Underpants run. Yes! Why not? It is for charity, I figured that if I had to endure running along behind ironmen in their tighty whities, well it would be worth it, for the charity of course. I wore a pair of huge granny dacks sporting a kangaroo waving an Aussie flag on the butt and dragged my poor Dad to the start line. He did not run, just observed… (that sounds way more creepy that it really was.) I met up with some friends Mike, a seasoned Kona participant and Jeff a green Kona rookie just like me.

We had a hoot, Mike and Jeff were happy to be stuck behind the Coeur Team girls, how shallow, I mean really? Post run “analysis” and breakfast at Evolution hit the spot. Oh a tip for Underpants Run rookies I gleaned from post race observation: sweaty tighty whities may leave you exposing a whole lot more than you anticipated.

Simon arrived on the Thursday. We had decided to leave the kids solo in Chicago… just kidding, our friends Alex and Theresa stepped in there. Theresa was so super cute, she called the schools to make sure the boys got there ok, drove the boys to their after school triathlon sessions and gave up their whole weekend too! What a load off our minds, we were so grateful.

I was able to squeeze in some down time. Dad, Simon and I spent Thursday afternoon sitting on the lanai of our apartment sipping a beer, watching the sun go down, taking a million photos and solving the world’s problems. I don't get to chill with my Dad too often, spending time with my Dad like that has left a warm little glow in my heart. It was one of my favorite moments of the trip. (My Dad hates being in photos, but I do manage to snag him in a few pics on this trip.)

As amiable and easy going as you all know me to be, I knew I would be prone to a little pre Ironman World Championships fretting. I did not want to expose my loved ones to my potential dragon lady side so I sent Simon and Dad off to explore Volcano National Park on the other side of the Island on Friday. A rather unwelcome visitor arrived on Friday, perhaps the best euphemism I can use is “Aunt Flo”, what a cow, she was not invited and I was not expecting to see her. She threw me in a bit of a spin, but I pulled it together and added dealing with that to my race plan.

I got my race gear together, checked my bike and checked in. What an awesome hype! I had forgotten that I had listed my occupation on the Ironman registration form as “Secret Agent.” As I walked down the red carpet to check in they called me out, “Here is Kelly Phuah, she is competing in the women’s 45-49 age group…” [pause] “she is a secret agent!” Haha, cover blown!

I was welcomed into Transition by my very own volunteer escort, Craig. Craig and his wife,  from Seattle, have been coming to the big Island for the last 10 years to volunteer for IMWC!

Whaaat!? I know right? Gulp, I felt a little overwhelmed at that moment. I racked my bike, hung my transition bags.  Then I stood for a few moments on the red carpet, I let myself feel special for being there before heading off to eat and find an air conditioner!

I found my friend Mike and we talked race stuff and spectator logistics tips while sipping protein shakes with our feet up. It was the perfect pre race afternoon.

Dinner that night was right down in the middle of all the action at Honu’s, overlooking the athlete area and swim start with Ben, Lillian, Dad and Simon. There was much discussion over the spectator plans and I shared my hopeful race splits to help them know where I would be at certain times. I was worried about how the day was going to be for everyone who had come all that way to watch. I knew it would be a long hot day for them too.

I had to have the Hawaiian Pizza, oh wow, caramelized pineapple and kalua shredded pork, It was awesome!

I got antsy all of a sudden in the middle of dinner when I realised that I was doing a freaking Ironman the next day. I rushed our farewells with Ben and Lillian and dragged Dad and Simon home. I have no clear memory of going to bed or how I slept, my mind just leaps to Simon and I driving down Alii Drive at 4am!

Race Day

Goal: under 11hrs.

Gosh, how much detail can you handle? Do I make it sound epic and glamorous? I guess if you are reading this then you are either a really good friend or a weird triathlon junkie so I will just give you the ugly truth.

Treading water with 600 other women waiting for the start canon was crazy. Everyone was apologetically kicking each other. I looked back at the crowd on the shore and the pier and let the swell of excitement pick me up. I sighted the 1st boat and wiggled a little closer to the front. The cannon boomed and we turned from polite and apologetic to tiger sharks. I was kicked, swam over and grabbed, I had to restart my watch 3 times because the stop button was kicked. I am quite sure I did my fair share of kicking others too, it was impossible not to. And at one stage I found myself laying completely on top of another athlete, I have no idea where she,came from!

I found my rhythm eventually and was able to start really swimming. By about half way I could feel my speedsuit cutting into my neck and throat as I was sighting and turning to breathe. It left quite a good chafe and I looked like I had been strangled. I snuck a peak at my watch as we made the turn at the boats, I was happy to see I was on schedule for my goal of a sub 70min swim. I was enjoying the water, it was clear and fairly calm. I could see the bottom. I picked out a blue swim cap on the bottom and wondered if it’s owner was down there too. I made the last push to the pier and grabbed the stairs, I ripped off my speed suit with glee and made my way around to T1 on wobbly legs.

1:09:42

I rinsed off my face with some fresh water, grabbed my bag and dove into the tent, and with the help of another volunteer it was suit off, socks on, shoes on, glasses on, food in pocket, loo stop #1 and out to my bike. Helmet on and go go go.

4:44

Yay!! Spotted my posse as I took off on the bike.

Lol, my Dad showing me the way to go…

I settled in and got out onto the Queen K thinking ok Kona, show me what you’ve got, bring it, do your worst.

I had a plan, hold watts for an IF around .68-.69. Yeah, naa, that just did not feel right. I was hot and pushing those watts just felt a little more taxing than it should so I backed off a little and kept a closer eye on my effort than my watts. I guess the wind was kind because even at the lower watts I was still on schedule for a 5:40 bike.

The best tip from Mike, stay wet all day. So at every aid station I was grabbing a cold bottle of water and pouring it all over my body, it was keeping me relatively cool.

I was keeping an eye out for girls in my age group, I passed a few and but noticed as we got closer to the finish that we were all getting a little feisty and not letting each other get too far away.

The climb up to Hawi was the first time that I really felt good, not being familiar with the course had made me a little reserved but when I hit that climb I felt like I just had this one hard bit and I was more than half way. I made the turn for home at the top and launched myself down that descent with a mission. So much fun! I was ticking down the miles and aiming to be out on the run course in under 7hrs and that kept me on the gas all the way back into Kona.

Ugh, triathletes are disgusting, the visor on my helmet was totally aero but also saved me from taking a snot rocket the face. “Dude!!” I shouted as I passed, he looked really sorry, but still, look over your shoulder before you launch. Same goes for the girl taking a wee. Being splashed by someone else's piss is not cool either.

My guts were feeling a little sketchy nearing the end of the bike, I took a couple of Imodium hoping to hold off the horrible tummy cramps etc I seem to be prone to on the run.

I came hurtling down the bike finish chute, eyeballing my volunteer bike catcher, I dismounted like a swan gliding in for a landing on a lake while seamlessly passing my bike to the catcher. They will probably be playing that footage in the Kona highlights, because it was so  freaking pro.

5:38:48

Into T2 in my socks, grabbed by bag, ripping off clothes as I ran, sort of like Superman - until my arms got hopelessly snagged in my super tight bike jersey and I resembled something more like a mad person trying to escape a straightjacket.  Yay for those volunteers. So, shoes on, race belt in hand, loo stop #2 and off on the run.  

4:33

Bahaaa, happens every time, my body rejoices for the 1st 2 km and I am lulled into a false sense of, “Oh hell yeah, I am going to be so amazing.” A quick glance at my overall time on my watch had me out on the run course in under 7 hours, yessss. I felt so confident that I was going to make that 11hr goal.  All I had to do was manage a 4 hr marathon. Then at about kilometer 3 it began to suck.  I saw my posse again at around this point, Simon and Ben ran alongside, giving me my position in the field and who was where, at that moment, they could have told me that there was a lion chasing me and it would not have made the bit of difference to my pace.  

I ran on in misery, downing a couple more Imodium for my increasingly cranky gut.  I had been taking salt tabs every hour, I had had mucho electrolytes and fluids on the bike and about 200 cals/hr all tried and tested and to plan.

Anyway, my mood began to shift, the discomfort in my gut was relieved for a little while.  I was given a huge piece of ice at an aid station. I sucked it, rubbed it on my body, down my legs and sides, down my arms and over my face, I bit little pieces off and when it was small enough it put it down my top. (My gosh, that almost sound erotic - it quite possibly was!) By the time I was heading back along Alii Drive and saw my posse again, I was a different girl.

I got down to business, thinking, tidy posture, keep hydrated and wet.  I was sad to see a few girls in my AG glide by but just kept to my own race and reminded myself that a sub 11 hr race was my goal and that racing someone else's game was not smart. There were 2 more loo stops on the run course, the last being out on Energy Lab road with about 16k / 10miles to go.  After that I was feeling much better. I made it up out of the Energy Lab climb and headed for home gritting my teeth to hold on to that 4 hr marathon but intermittently smiling because I totally knew I was going to do it.

I was surprised to see another friend Liz cheering me on as I turned off the Queen K down Palani rd. Eek, that downhill was ugly, ouch, I felt like a robot, horrible form that I just could not fix at that point. I nearly cried when Simon told me I had a mile to go. A mile! Oh just make this OVER! Finally I entered the finish chute with an idiotic grin, feeling emotional, tired and proud. I punched the air 2 times as I crossed the finish line.

3:58:44

Total time: 10:56:31, 16/88 F45-49 

So much room for improvement!

A friend asked me that night if I was keen to do it again, it only took one sleep for that answer to go from no way to yeah, I need another crack at that.

I got to spend another couple of days with Dad before we took off to opposite sides of the earth again. I was glad we got to see the town transform back into the cute little town it is 51 weeks of the year.

Mahalo!

I am surrounded by really hard working and intelligent people, people who inspire me to push myself and to be humble. (Well, I try with the humble bit.) I don't know many people more hard working and intelligent than Simon, he blows me away with his own dedication and humility and I live my life struggling to keep up with him. He is my biggest fan and I would not be doing any of this without his support.

My race experience was made really special with the support and fun with Ben, Lillian, Dad, Mike, Jeff, Liz and and Simon. Oh guys, thanks a million.

The online messages and texts from my family, my INTENT team mates, and friends were wonderful!! Pre race pep talks from my very good friend Jeff kept me in check. Much love to everyone who was following my race online and cheering along at home

My coach Rick Schopp at INTENT is also one of those inspiring people, I have put myself into painville at his instruction so many times but I am still here, I am still keen and I am getting faster. He has shown me that the pain pays off. Sending me the Urban dictionary definition of whinge when I slightly lost my shit during my second last intense training week leading into Kona was just the kick in the pants I needed.  

(That sounds rough, he may have added a few additional kind words in there too.)

Much love to Alex and Theresa for taking great care of our boys while we were away.

Many thanks to the volunteers who gave their time and to the super cute little town of Kona for letting us take over!

Mahalo xo

Now I count down just a few weeks to Ironman Cozumel before we pack up and make the very exciting move to Denver, Colorado!  Two more years in the USA before we head back to Australia.

Pic credits: Thanks Ben, Lillian and Simon

[sentrava]

What’s On in Copenhagen: May 2018

Rejoice! May has arrived in Copenhagen and we couldn’t be happier about it. May is typically when the weather really warms up and the sun comes out. But even on the dreary days, there’s so much to do in the city at this time of year.

Take a look at all the best events happening in Copenhagen during May:

Sunday 15th April – Sunday 6th May

ECI 24H

Check out this ultra cool festival: 22 art shows in 22 days, where each one is mounted and then dismantled in 24 hours. All shows are held at LOKALE in Nørrebro, and both Danish as well as international artists will be represented.

    Tuesday 1st May

International Worker’s Day/May Day

The annual celebration of activism and solidarity with industrial workers everywhere. In Copenhagen, crowds of up to 50,000 commemorate the occasion in Østerbro’s Fælledparken with speeches and even an address from the Prime Minister. Pack some beer and make a day of it.

  Thursday 3rd – Wednesday 16th May

Copenhagen Architecture Festival

Back for its fifth year, the Copenhagen Architecture Festival is all about exploring how architecture is integrated into our daily life and shapes our world. The theme for this year is “home, housing, and belonging.” Check out our recommendations for the best tours, films and talks.

  Friday 4th May

Up Sessions on the Rooftop

Starting May 4th and running every Friday through August, enjoy some drinks and good conversation on the rooftop terrace of Hotel Danmark. This is the perfect way to unwind after the week and take in a glorious view of Copenhagen.

  Saturday 5th – Sunday 6th May

Forårsbazar

Grab a basket and fill it up with plants for this spring market in Østerbro! If your apartment needs a little green update for the new season, this is the place to do it. Even if you’re not planning to buy, there’s nothing better than a stroll around some lush greenery. Open both days from 10 am – 3 pm.

  Saturday 5th May

Spring Market on Elmegade

From 10 am – 5 pm, take a stroll around one of the cutest pockets of Nørrebro, right by Sankt Hans Torv. There will be stands selling clothes, accessories and other goods, as well as food and some activities. Such a nice way to spend a Saturday!

Urbanfestival

This day-long festival on Amager includes events for kids such as a magician, a flea market, live music, good food and more. If you’re in the neighborhood, stop by!

Sunday 6th May

Fashion Flea Market: Trendsales & Tradono

There are serious fashion finds to be had at this large indoor flea market. If you’ve been doing some spring cleaning for your wardrobe, you may have a few items you need to fill in. With designer names at very good price, this is the place to do it. The market runs from 10 am – 4 pm at Store Kannikestræde 19.

  Monday 7th May

Drop-in Jazz Dance Workshop

This workshop, taught by choreographer and dancer Matthew Bailey, focuses on core strengthening. It will work within the jazz framework and vocabulary. You don’t need to be an expert dancer; just have the desire to improve your skills!

  Thursday 10th May

Marie Key at Store Vega

Beloved Danish pop singer/songwriter Marie Key will be performing at Store Vega. Her breathy, sweet voice and clever pop songs make it easy to see why she’s become so popular in Denmark (she sings in Danish, by the way). Having seen her command the stage (Orange, no less!) at Roskilde Festival, we can confirm that she puts on a very good show.

Bad Movie Club: The Apple at Husets Biograf

For fans of “How Did This Get Made” and all others who love a good bad movie, The Bad Movie Club at Husets Biograf is a real treat. This installation is “The Apple,” a totally bonkers film shot in West Berlin and released in 1980. It’s about…a singer…in the dystopian future of 1994…and an evil record company called Boogalow…also, there’s a lot of Biblical references…yeah, we don’t really get it either. But it’s weird and fun.

  Friday 11th May

RAR Brewing at Himmeriget

Himmeriget welcomes Maryland, USA-based brewing company RAR to the bar for the night. Try an array of their beers on tap as well well as cans that have been flown in to ensure freshness. This is a fun chance to try something you can’t usually get in Copenhagen.

  Saturday 12th May

Jenny Wilson at Store Vega

Swedish pop-rock singer/songwriter Jenny Wilson is as fierce as they come, and her beats are too. We love her smart, fast-paced music and her message of fearlessness.

Live Screening of Eurovision Finals at Husets Biograf

Enjoy watching the Eurovision finals, which take place in Lisbon this year, with other fans. Entrance is free, but it fills up fast so we recommend that you reserve a spot! Take a listen to Denmark’s entry, “Higher Ground,” by Rasmussen.

  Friday 18th May – Sunday 20th May

Cabonara Festival

Finally! The festival we’ve all been waiting for. It’s time to celebrate carbonara, and we are so here for it. No details yet, so check their Facebook page for updates.

  Friday 18th May

OSHUN at Ideal Bar

Bringing hip hop, reggae, soul and pop into their excellent tracks, OSHUN comments on community, politics, and black women’s lives in the USA. If you haven’t already heard them, get on board.

  Saturday 19th – Sunday 20th May

FindersKeepers x Mad About Copenhagen Market

From 11 am – 5 pm on both days, check out this design and food market, hosted by FindersKeepers and Copenhagen foodies Mad About Copenhagen. Great design, fashion and art, plus the best food vendors in the city? That sounds like a great weekend.

  Click Festival

This is definitely not your average festival. Celebrating contemporary art, science and technology, CLICK has an incredibly diverse and in-depth program over its two days. There are concerts, talks, workshops, interactive installations, and much more. The theme this year is “Xeno,” an exploration of what is alien or other. CLICK is located in Helsingør, so just a 45 minute ride on the train from central Copenhagen; it is possible to camp at the site.

  Saturday 19th May

Movie Drink-Along: The Big Lebowski at Husets Biograf

What’s better than a sing-along? A drink-along, obviously. Have a few White Russias while shouting out lines like “This is not ‘Nam. This is Bowling. There are rules,” and “You’re out of your element, Donny!” and “This aggression will not stand!” Best night ever.

Tuesday 22nd May – Sunday 27th May

Art Week CPH

If you’re an art fan, this is your big week! There will be exhibitions, parties, debates, and more. Be sure to check their website for the program release and other updates.

  Tuesday 22nd May

Manu Crook$ at Ideal Bar

Is Manu Crook$ the first Australian rapper to make it on the international mainstream? Looks that way! See him at Ideal Bar, the perfect setting for a small but bouncing concert.

  Saturday 26th – Sunday 27th May

Bloom Festival

This festival celebrates nature over two days with talk by philosophers and scientists, music from classical composers, and time spent enjoying the beautiful surroundings of Søndermarken.

  Saturday 26th May

Fortovsfest

A full day of fun for the whole family! This festival goes from 10 am – midnight and includes a flea market, live music, activities for kids, and food and drink available to buy. Let’s keep our fingers crossed for sunshine!

  Balders Plads Flea Market

Peruse second hand clothes, accessories and home goods in this buzzy corner of Nørrebro. There are plenty of good cafes around, so enjoy a coffee or lunch and then have a day of low-key shopping between 10 am – 4 pm.

  Rocky Horror Picture Show at Husets Biograf

Dammit Janet! This beloved cult film is the one that you’ll be singing for the rest of your days. There’s nothing quite like seeing “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” on the big screen and feasting your eyes on Tim Curry in all his steamy, sexy glory. Go sing along as loud as you can.

  Sunday 27th May

Rita Ora at Store Vega

British pop star Rita Ora brings her powerful presence and voice to Store Vega, where it’s sure to be a party. Get tickets before they sell out!

  Wednesday 30 May – Sunday 3 June

Distortion Festival

It’s that time of year again! Distortion is here, and your nights are about to get a little weird. As usual, the concerts are divided into Distortion Ø, which takes place at Refshaleøen, Distortion Club all over the city, and the street parties, in their annual locations. Buy your armband now and get ready to dance!

→ On the Joy of Distortion

  Thursday 31 May – Saturday 2nd June

Heartland Festival

This isn’t in Copenhagen, but it’s too good for us not to tell you about it. Located on the island of Funen in the gorgeous Egeskov Castle, this festival combines music, art, literature and food for a totally unique weekend of beauty and learning. This year’s line up includes Patti Smith, Van Morrison, Lykke Li and Grizzly Bear. As if that weren’t enough, Tracy Emin, Kim Gordon and Salaman Rushdie will all be giving talks, and chef Christian Puglisi (among many other local favourites) has his hand in the food aspect of the event.

    Ongoing in May

  Picasso Ceramics Exhibit at Lousiana Museum of Modern Art

The first exhibition in their 60 year anniversary celebration, the Picasso Ceramics is truly something to experience. A look at a lesser-known medium of the legendary artist, the ceramics are as wonderful, joyful, and historically important collection that every art and design lover should see.

  High On Luxury: Lost Treasures of the Roman Empire Exhibit at Glyptoteket

Silver, gold, gems and luxury items created during the Roman Empire, celebrating artisan craftsmanship and decadence. If you’re in the mood to party, but in a super-cultured way, this is the exhibit for you.

  Jesper Christiansen “Touchstone” Exhibit at GL Strand

Danish painter Jesper Christiansen is renown for his literary paintings that create almost-theatrical scenes and staging. “Touchstone” combines text with paintings to showcase the relationship between the words and visuals. A really interesting and unique museum experience!

  Mathias Bengtsson “Organic Transformations” Exhibit at Designmuseum Danmark

This is a small exhibition in the hall between the lobby and the cafe of Designmuseum Danmark, but it’s really worth a visit. These incredible pieces are a blend of furniture and art; one-off pieces that utilise new technological advances to create awe-inspiring textures.

  If you’re a business or organisation that would like us to add your event to next month’s calendar, please contact us at hello [@] scandinaviastandard [dot] com. Thank you!

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  What’s On in Copenhagen: May 2018 published first on https://medium.com/@OCEANDREAMCHARTERS

[yuhaie-blog]

@buroura:

he’s  never  feared  death  before.     &  even  now,  he  doesn’t.     what  he  fears  is  what  he  would  leave  behind.     the  things  &  people  he  would  never  know.     he  fears  what  he  would  lose.     he  takes  mind  to  make  the  distinction,  never  forgetting  he  could  lose  it  all  even  without  death.     it  would  be  fair.     for  him  to  lose  it  all,  for  asuma  to  die.     scars,  stories,  bounties     —–     they  all  mark  a  man  well - versed  in  a  violent  art  with  too  many  regrets  to  list.     better  him,  than  his  students.

it’s  all  a  blur  now.     a  deep  fog  hanging  over  his  mind,  even  what  he  pictures  is  muddied     —–     he  isn’t  quite  sure  what’s  happened  or  where  he  is.     eyes  strain  to  open,  stuck  in  a  numbing  daze.     he  remembers  the  pain  in  his  chest  &  crawling  through  his  skin.     the  struggling  for  breath  as  vision  grew  dark.     a  last  speech,  from  a  man  most  certain  he  was  at  his  end.

eyelids  fight  to  open  again  as  he  inhales,  basking  in  the  fresh,  cool  air.      how  quickly  it’s  ruined,  sharp  pain  strikes  harshly  at  his  lungs;  he  gasps  between  grit  teeth  &  eyes  are  shocked  open.     head  rolls,  a  pounding  headache  setting  in.     ignorance  is  washed  away  in  a  matter  of  seconds;  the  stark  white  room  blinding.     he’s  alive.     if  only  that  eased  it     —–     the  more  he  rouses,  the  more  he  feels.     fists  curl,  grasping  at  the  cloth  beneath  him.

it’s  a  surprise  when  skin  is  met  with  skin.     the  stillness  of  her  hand  brought  by  sleep  contrasts  with  how  his  tremble  in  her  stead.     the  feel  of  her  skin,  soft  but  worn  &  a  little  swollen.     he  doesn’t  have  to  look     (     & he  won’t  yet,  he  can’t  bring  himself  to     )     to  know.     breath  catches  in  his  throat  &  he  tries  to  swallow  the  pain     —–     he  won’t  let  it  show,  not  to  her.     not  to  the  woman  he  can  so  easily  picture  sitting  by  his  side,  unmoving  for  days     (     how  long  has  it  been     —–     merely  days ?     weeks ?     )     from  her  seat.     it  reassures  him     —–     he’s  alive.    

discomfort  alleviates  with  the  presence  she  always  carries,  the  warmth  &  love  she  exudes.     unsteady  thumb  brushes  over  her  hand  &  eyes  squeeze  shut.     he  opens  his  mouth,  lips  quivering.     it’s  a  struggle  to  speak,  throat  dry  &  simply  too  tired     —–   but  a  comfort  comes  with  her  name  on  hitched  breaths,  barely  above  a  whisper.

❝     —–     kurenai.     ❞

Oh, they wear their scars with pride ---  symbols of survival that glow silver against  weathered skin. Kurenai can hardly count how many times she's  fallen asleep at his bedside, ignoring the insistence that there's a chance he won't wake up. They don't know her like she does --- how hard he fights against all odds to surface victorious. They know only cheerfulness, never the exhaustion as he collapses into bed, but conquers sleeps in order to talk about his day, about his  team --- they are his pride & joy.  Even through her exhaustion, she still comes to the conclusion that they had been far  too happy for gods to rejoice in their bliss.

At first, she thinks she’s dreaming and that she’s finally succumbed to the exhaustion of pregnancy, the stress, or a potent cocktail of both. Kurenai relishes in warmth that radiates from his skin. She knows his hands better than her own; silvery webs of scars fading over time, callouses rough from decades of wielding steel. They’ve always felt amazing as they danced over her  cheekbones. Darling, why do you sleep so long?  Please wake up --- I miss you.

Perhaps it’s selfishness that tightens her chest, or the deep-seated fear that she would brave the  years ahead explaining to a child why people had their fathers and they only had photographs and fond memories. What kind of world would deprive them of his light?  one where children learn to fight as soon as they can talk, learn to hone their bodies to kill and to pay little mind to the fact that those they kill themselves were mothers, fathers, sons and daughters.

Their hands will never be truly clean. 

        kurenai.

Eyes snap open, the fog of sleep cast away by the rasp of his voice --- he’s... awake. For the first time in weeks, there bubbles a happiness she was certain she’d never feel again if he slipped from her grasp. Heart pounds against her chest like practised hands against the taut skin of a drum, she blinks once --- twice, tears stinging and clinging to dark lashes as her hand grasps his. Her fingers are as swollen as her feet are, her body as exhausted as she’s certain he is. 

Kurenai draws in a shaky breath, lips curving upwards into a smile. If the ache in her spine is anything to go by, this isn’t just a dream conjured up through the desperate mind of someone clinging to blind faith to ease a  heart that weighs heavier than lead shoes in an ocean. Trembling fingers are quick to weave through his own, lips quick to press kisses against knuckles that have been broken more times than he’s had birthdays.

She has to thank her lucky stars that he is being granted another one. 

   “Good afternoon, sleepy head.”  her voice wavers, other hand rising to swipe the tears from her cheeks. He hates it when she cries --- she knows that better than anyone, but when she’s stuck in the grim limbo between happiness, relief and sadness, she can’t help it. “Almost had me worried for a second.”

[your-sohini-blog]

20 Gifts For The Traveller In Your Life

Explore my gift guide for all the world travellers in your life! Covering everything from essentials to tech, clothing, footwear, inspiration & more.

Shake it like a polaroid picture! An Instax instant camera makes the perfect gift, printing out cute little polaroids instantly & making memorable keepsakes for life. In a world of digital images and phone photography, its a good feeling to be able to hold an actual photo in your hands. Get it here. Available in a few different colours.

2. This is kind of a no brainer, but a journal & an inky black pen is a gift that's always appreciated. It's a great way to pass time on long flights or while relaxing on the beach, and of course perfect to keep track of everything you get up to while in exotic lands. Write about all the places you visit everyday, doodle little images that have stuck in your brain, note down funny or cool stories you've heard from locals. It'll become a precious trip down memory lane when you're older.

Available on Fancy

Available on PropShop24

Available on PropShop24

3. Classic black sneakers will save your day almost every single day. Packing light is essential to an enjoyable holiday, and nothing is as versatile as a dark black shoe (that's comfy AF). Matches everything. Keeps your feet happy during the insane amounts of walking you will inevitably do on any vacation. Remember to always buy half a size bigger than your usual size when it comes to sneaks or closed shoes that are worn for long durations.

For Her

For Him

4. Also a total no brainer. Probably the most useful small object that can be packed on any trip. I bought one for my dad 8 years ago (he goes into the mountains to hike at least 3-4 times a year) and he takes it on every trip he goes on without fail. Get the original Victorinox version for guaranteed quality & flawless design.

5. Good sleep = happy travels. Get this set from Chumbak.

6. Music is essential for long journeys, long layovers and even longer sleepless jet-lagged nights. These headphones from Sony are tried & tested, have a clean, classic design and solid, dependable, clear sound without breaking the bank. Available in a variety of colours too. Available on Amazon.

7. Make your passport look oh so pretty, and safe from bending, scratches & other damages. Shop the beachy one here & the coordinated Mr&Mrs set here. Both from PropShop24.

8. Imagine getting to a far-off destination after months of planning and realising you can't charge any of your stuff. Prevent a nightmare with this international travel adaptor, available here.

9. I recently got into adult colouring books and found that it calms me down and passes time blissfully like very few other things. I have this Lost Ocean book and just can't get enough. The images are large, the pages are thick and creamy, and the designs are intricate and truly stunning. Apt for a rainy day or for inspiration in between travels. Add a set of Staedtler Water Colour pencils (the best ever), which are perfectly smooth colour pencils that transform to water colour when you run a wet brush over the paper. They allow for shading, blending, and shadowing, and don't seep through to the other side. Get the book here and the pencils here.

10. A sleek & durable carry-on roller makes for effortless travel. I prefer hard cases over soft because they also make a great footrest at airports, and because your delicate stuff (like make-up & electronics) stays safe & secure. A gunmetal grey or similar neutral tone looks best. Get this one here.

11. Trust me when I say you don't want to take an expensive watch on holiday (or any expensive jewellery for that matter). Watches tend to get stolen, lost, damaged or even broken quite easily. My partner had his watch stolen right off his hand in Barcelona without even realising it was gone for a good 20 minutes. These inexpensive yet cute watches will help you keep track of the local time no matter where you are, without the stress of potentially losing something very valuable.

For Her

For Him

12. An icy bed is nothing to look forward to, so all the cold weather travellers rejoice! This plug in heating pad is the ideal way to warm up your bed before tucking yourself in and can be a real life saver in extreme climates. You can even leave it on next to you or near your feet and go to sleep for guaranteed toasty-ness. Being snug as a bug just took on a whole new meaning. Shop here.

13. A classic beige double breasted trench coat is an extremely versatile closet staple that everyone needs. It makes a great gift because it's lightweight and easy to pack, thin enough for a slight nip in the air but can be worn with layers for added warmth, it's a piece that will never ever go out of style, and of course it just looks so cute when worn with just about anything from jeans and a t-shirt to a formal dress and heels. This glorious one is available on Asos.

14. Ever try to climb some rocks barefoot to jump into the sea? Or tried to go snorkelling barefoot and stepped on all sorts of pokey, spiky things while entering the water? I have and yeah, it's not fun. Shoes that can be worn into the water and while swimming are a lifesaver, they will protect your feet from cuts, scratches, bruises and even sharp objects & creatures on the sea floor (such as sea urchins). They're also ideal for light hiking & trekking through rivers, streams, lakes, puddles and along the sea shore. The low rise slip-ons are better for less intense activity such as snorkelling or swimming in rocky oceans, whereas the lace-up versions will take you through a forest walk and through a rivulet with ease.

Pink & grey from Speedo, available here.

The mesh openings on the soles of the shoe let all the water out, keeping your feet ultra comfy.

Shop here.

For the boys. Blue & black slip-ons available here.

A great water shoe by Adidas that users swear by. Shop here.

15. A solar powered battery pack to charge all your gear on the go, shop now.

16. For the ocean lover in your life who just can't get enough of the big blue sea. Shop from Fancy.

17. A set of refillable plastic bottles for all your shower needs that meet international carry-on regulations. A clear plastic pouch helps you get through security checks with ease. Buy here.

18. With an anti-glare screen and a travel friendly hand-held size, a Kindle is the best company. Store thousands of books & magazines, and read them anywhere from the beach, to a boat or a plane or the back of a bike. For the book worm traveller who never leaves home without something to read. Shop here.

19. Thin, luxurious, ultra absorbent & quick-drying towels made of 100% cotton. No more packing bulky towels that take up half your bag and take ages to dry. Not to forget that they're allergen free (since they're pure cotton) and won't irritate even the most sensitive skin. Get them here.

20. Amazon Prime Video is a great way to watch all the latest movies, tv shows and entertainment on a variety of different devices. They can be saved to offline mode so you can watch on the go and never miss any of your favourites. Plus watching a movie in bed is such a lovely way to spend a jet-lagged or tired evening when you just need to unwind from the hecticness of travel. For this you will need to purchase an Amazon Gift Card worth a minimum of Rs.500 and then tell the receiver of the gift card to redeem it on getting a Prime membership (which also includes free 1-2 day shipping on applicable items, apart from a whole world of movies & shows).

I hope my gift guide inspired you to get something fabulous for the jet-setter in your life. All these gifts are not only unique, but also useful, with direct links to shop each piece. This is a completely unsponsored post and I do not make any commission on pieces that are sold through any of these sites. This is simply my list of gifts any traveller would love to get! I'll be back soon with more content, just for you! xx

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