#are the strings taped to the back of the canvas?

[naturalbloodstainblnde]

CAL GABRIEL. HEADCANONS || ZERO DAY

cal gabriel as a boyfriend // a lil angst? // tw sh mention // gn!reader // headcanons

cal gabriel, who knows how to make himself likable. he’d be sweet, funny, maybe even a bit awkward and shy at times, but only to the extent that it benefits him. he’s not emotionally invested in the same way most people are—he’s more interested in the idea of having someone who adores him… and that “someone” happens to be you.

cal gabriel, who would share enough personal details to seem open, but he’d avoid anything too deep. if you tried to dig into his thoughts or true feelings, he’d quickly brush them off with a self-deprecating joke or change the subject.

cal gabriel, who, no matter how much he likes you, andre will always come first. he’d cancel dates or disappear without much of an explanation if andre needs him. he won’t apologise either—it’s just how it is.

cal gabriel, who would swing between affectionate and distant. one day, he’d be laying his head in your lap, even allowing you to ruffle his hair; the next, he’d barely respond to your texts or act distracted.

cal gabriel, who wouldn’t view your relationship as something permanent. he’s too focused on zero day and doesn’t plan to be around long enough to see where the relationship could possibly go.

cal gabriel, whose younger siblings simply adore you. maddie and eric see you as an honorary family member and get super hyped every time you come over.

cal gabriel, who uses play-wrestling as an excuse to get close to you, pinning you down and laughing at your attempts to fight back.

cal gabriel, who tries to show off by playing sitar for you, fingers moving effortlessly over the strings as he plays a riff that’s surprisingly good.

cal gabriel, who teaches you a few basic chords, leaning in close to adjust your fingers on the strings.

cal gabriel, who rolls his eyes when you straighten his coat collar or tuck his hair behind his ear, pretending to be annoyed while secretly enjoying the attention.

cal gabriel, who mutters “quit babying me,” when you nag him about missing meals, but still eats whatever you give him without complaint.

cal gabriel, who has something small of yours that he keeps stuffed on his pocket—a bracelet, a hair tie, or even a note you scribbled for him in class. all of these ended up in the fire.

cal gabriel, who likes to carve your initials on random surfaces around school—lockers, desks, and even the bathroom wall. but his favourite canvas was his own skin—hidden from everyone but him.

cal gabriel, who has perpetually cold hands and always slides them under your sweater or onto your neck just to hear you yelp, laughing while you smack him away.

cal gabriel, who loves it when you grab his freezing hands and hold them between yours, rubbing warmth back into his icy-ass fingers while he mumbles, “they’re not that cold” (even though they are).

cal gabriel, who sometimes doesn’t let go of your hands even after they’ve warmed up, his fingers staying intertwined with yours.

cal gabriel, who freezes for a moment when you ask him about graduation and college, his usual smirk faltering before he quickly deflects: “college? i dunno, maybe i’ll take a year off.”

cal gabriel, who avoids your gaze when you press him about the future, running a hand through his hair and mumbling, “i don’t think that far ahead,”

cal gabriel, who is sweeter than usual in the days leading up to zero day. he’s always been sweet to you, but now there’s a weird sense of urgency to it—like he’s trying to cram a lifetime of memories into just a few days. he takes you out to see a random movie “bridget jones’s diary,” you don’t even remember half of it because you guys spent most of the time making out in the back row.

cal gabriel, who presses his forehead to yours after breaking the kiss, his breathing uneven when you ask him if he’s okay, whispering a soft “yeah” before pulling you back in, like he doesn’t want to talk about it.

cal gabriel, who filmed a tape just for you, apologising to you and explaining everything he couldn’t in person. it ended with a quiet, “i love you.” but the tape doesn’t not end up in the deposit box, and as cal and andre burned their belongings, he throws it into the fire, thinking it wasn’t fair to put you through that pain.

that’s all i can come up with for now :p

[cr4yolaas]

blue spring — wonder

prev: guilt | masterlist | next: spaces inbetween

he’s a little startled to see her already inside the studio, waiting for him. her attire is a bit more comfortable than what he’s used to seeing her wear in public, but he pays no mind to it. instead, all he can focus on is the task at hand — hauling all of the paintings to a museum thirty minutes away, before their dinner reservation.

her panic is clear on her face. a box of wrapping that’s almost clear and a handful of translucent brown tape sits on the ground beside her, where she stands with her fist to her lips and her hand against her hip, as if deep in thought. he takes a moment to observe, just as he always has. there’s a few more paintings placed against the walls, each of them imprinted with her signature on the side. those weren’t there a few days before. he wonders how much she went through to get it all done.

slowly, he traverses around the room, strings of sunlight spilling through the small windows a few feet above him and illuminating his path. he traces each detail, each line, each hue that’s been embedded on every canvas, and he thinks about what it was like for her to paint them. he thinks of the hours she’s spent in here alone (he hasn’t seen many other students come to this building, after all), and he questions how she puts up with it; how she can bear to sit on a stool for an eternity painting and sketching whatever image comes to mind.

each work tells a different story, ranging from soft and delicate bodies to scenes that are more saddening and gore-y. the girl and her two-headed lamb sits in the center of the line. it remains his favorite of all.

“i’m sorry to call you here on such short notice,” she says once she notices his observations are complete. “i’ll pay you back tremendously. not just for this, but for putting you through so much over these past few days.”

“it’s no problem,” he reassures her. the words spill out instinctively. “you did a lot for me already. you know, with the tutoring and all.”

his remark has her pausing in her tracks. “oh,” she begins, her memory of the exam (that they were supposed to prepare for together) dawning on her. “how did the math exam go for you?” to combat the guilt crawling up her spine, she draws her attention to the packing materials and gets to work while waiting for his response. her hands drift across the surface and trace each line made by her own hands before concealing it all beneath the wrapping. she watches as he copies her movements.

“it went really well,” he exclaims, seemingly proud about his score. “i scored much higher than i thought i would. thanks to you, of course.” the sentiment catches her off guard, and she pretends it doesn’t affect her. it’s sickening, how malleable she is when it comes to him. she swears she was a mess just a few days ago. but now, everything seems fine. it feels like she’s capable of getting better.

he’s much stronger than her, she realizes, and he goes through the wrapping process with ease, contrasting her struggle to fit the material over the entire canvas. eventually, his hands find hers and lift the plastic over the edge she can’t quite reach, and for a moment, she feels his breath on her skin. it’s electrifying. it’s horrifying. she wants more.

but she can’t have more. so, instead, she begins to open the back door of the studio, the afternoon sunlight seeping into the room as the heavy metal creaks open. she did ask tsukishima for permission to borrow his car, thankfully. the vehicle waits outside the backyard, conveniently parked right against the curb. kageyama is already taking the artworks from the studio before she can say a word. she nearly smiles at his eagerness to help, to be there for her.

instead, a small frown finds its way onto her face.

she’s not meant to be attached, she reminds herself. it’s the same words she told herself a few weeks ago. and yet, regardless of how often she repeated it in her head, she managed to fall victim to his generosity.

it feels wrong. she isn’t sure why — maybe some subconscious in the back of her head is telling her that she’s undeserving of his kindness, or maybe it’s the bitter taste on vulnerability on her tongue. she was meant to work, to strive, to succeed independently, but something about him fights against the methodology that’s been ingrained into her since she was young. for a moment, she watches him pace back and forth between the car and the building to bring each canvas into the trunk, and despite his strenuous efforts to ensure each one makes it inside safely, he doesn’t ask her for help once. as if he’s content doing these little things for her.

the guilt comes crawling back, once more. she lifts the last few pieces into the back before he can do it himself and closes the door with a soft thud. kageyama sits at the driver’s seat — another overwhelmingly nice surprise he throws her way.

“why are you driving?” she questions him, as it’s in her nature to oppose what falls against her routine. he only smiles at her, softly, the corners of his chapped lips curling up ever so slightly. he seems to be out of breath, and she feels too bad to let him drive but she doesn’t have the time nor patience to argue. begrudgingly, she finds her way to the passenger seat, and as soon as she buckles herself in, he’s already leaving the campus. the directions are already on his phone, and a soothing playlist is already on the speakers. he already knows her too well. it’s haunting, but she can’t find it in herself to complain.

when they pull into the staff parking lot (as directed by her lovely event coordinator), a handful of people and a person she assumes to be the director stand at the door. they’re already rushing to help her with her items by the time she can even step foot outside the car, and briefly, she feels special. the dreams from her youth once contained in her little heart of fancy dinners and a group of her own servicemen are being showcased before her, just in a more mellow fashion. the remnants of that little heart blossom at the sight.

kageyama sits back as the staff carries the canvases away and watches as she converses with the director. she’s nervous, as told by the fiddling of her fingers against the hem of her shirt and the constant shifting of her posture, but it’s clear that she’s even more excited. he likes seeing this side of her — the one overflowing with love for the arts and an unrivaled passion. it’s refreshing to see hints of a smile on her face as opposed to furrowed brows and baggy eyes (although, the baggy eyes never quite go away), and he longs to see more of it. he yearns for toothy grins and heartfelt expressions and genuine joy out of her, but his heart and mind can’t handle that realization just yet. so he shoves it back down to the pits of his stomach, acts like he isn’t discovering just how much he likes being around her, and observes in silence as she returns to the car, the air around her much lighter.

the drive to the restaurant (which yachi picked out as soon as the plans were made) is silent. it's an hour away from the art center, but with the afternoon traffic, it may as well be two hours. however, she doesn't stress over it, so he doesn't either. there are hints of exhaustion riddled all over her face, and he wonders, again, what it must be like to see the world through her eyes. to live so dangerously within a tango of self-destruction all for the sake of a dream to create. he admits his obsession with volleyball isn't very different, but within her, there's something more than just that. it's something he can't put a name on, and yet, he sees it within her every time — when she's studying, when she's working, when she's conversing about the thing she loves the most — it's always evident.

he thinks, for a moment, that he likes that part of her the most. whatever he had buried deep down within himself resurfaces, this time stronger. in his peripherals, she's fast asleep, her head limp against the window just as it was when they picked her up from the studio a few nights prior. he wonders why she didn't choose to dress up for an occasion celebrating herself. he wonders why she's so drawn to the arts. he wonders why he's so attracted to her passion, unwavering and quiet all the same. he wonders why he can't bring himself to hate her, even if her inability to prioritize herself over her craft hurts both herself and those around her in the process.

he doesn't want to admit his lack of immunity to her. so instead, he continues to drive. his eyes stretch across the horizon of cars before him, and the scenes of the city on his left and right, as if to distract himself from whatever cognizance is coming upon him now. but no matter how hard he tries, he can't escape it. so much so that, when they pull into the parking lot beside all of her friends (if she considers most of them that), he doesn't get out for a while, nor does he bother to wake her up. all he wants to do is bask in her presence. it's terrifying.

it only takes a few minutes for her to stir from her slumber, and when her consciousness slowly slips back into her grasp, she's almost startled to see him still sitting beside her.

"what are we waiting for?" she asks, the remnants of sleep still laced in each syllable.

he doesn't want to look at her, in fear of doing something he definitely shouldn't do. he looks straight ahead into the fancy double doors and replies, "nothing. i just wanted you to rest up first."

she doesn't question him any further, and slowly, she begins to collect herself. she removes the hoodie she's wearing to unveil a slightly more formal top, adorned with a ribbon in the center of the neckline and bits of lace peeking out from the short sleeves. it's the version of her he had grown accustomed to before he bothered to speak to her. before he got to truly know her.

he waits patiently as she straightens herself up, delicate hands smoothing out wrinkles in her pants and the stray strands of hair. they exit the car together, and when their presence is made known to the group (who have been waiting inside the lobby for a little too long), there's an amalgamation of complaints regarding their tardiness and excitement at their appearance.

it's peaceful. he looks to his right and sees her smile, once again, although this time, it's full of warmth. he can’t stop staring. he wonders if she truly feels happy, at this moment in time. he hopes she is.

𝜗𝜚 blue spring is half written half smau atp

𝜗𝜚 yn in her healing era after going thru the worst breakdown of the century thank god !!

𝜗𝜚 btw everyone gets drunk at the party except for yn tsukki and kenma (two of which are designated drivers)

𝜗𝜚 tsukki yachi and yams were struggling on their commute to the restaurant since they’re so used to driving tgt. they kept arguing over which stops to get on and off at

𝜗𝜚 kageyama’s last text to her was genuinely the most impulsive decision he’s made in relation to her so far. he sent it with one hand over his eyes his phone far away and his face turned away

𝜗𝜚 yn almost went on an unprompted rant to the director about her exhibit but remembered the dinner party </3

𝜗𝜚 i’m so sorry for making kags n yn so dense but it had to be done. awkward unable to comprehend own emotions guy x passionate cold-shoulder shoves all her emotions so far down she doesn’t even recognize them anymore girl is the trope for this one

taglist: @mfcherry @eggyrocks @scxrcherr @yuminako @girlkissersco @diorzs @causenessus @kyo-kyo1 @k0z3me @shironagi @lovingvi @bunninio @hisfuture @lilchubbyyy @gsyche @ghostreader0307 @gumiiiiezzzz

[theemporium]

Can you write steddie/or just Eddie with a partner who is a tattoo artist? It can be either sfw or nsfw

i actually really liked this concept, it's so cute! thank you for requesting!🖤

.

When you applied for the job at the tattoo parlour, your portfolio had been filled with tattoos you had done.

“They were mostly on my boyfriend,” you had told them with a sheepish smile as they flicked through your work. “He was eager to let me use him as a practice canvas and he loves them, even the shit ones.” 

Your co-workers had found it adorable enough, made a few remarks about how lucky your boyfriend was that you were very talented with a tattoo gun and quickly welcomed you to their team. 

You had spoken about your boyfriend briefly in between sessions and during lunch breaks. Not much, but they seemed to get the general vibe of what he was like. You were head over heels and by the sound of it, he was far more obsessed and in love than you were. It was wholesome. 

So, you could imagine your co-workers' surprise when a man walked in through the door, skin free of any tattoos, holding a brown paper bag with your lunch inside as he claimed to be your boyfriend. 

And the surprise when you greeted him like it was normal.

“Hey baby,” he grinned as he leaned down to peck your lips, his smile almost feeling infectious as he handed you the paper bag. “You forgot this on the counter.” 

“You’re a lifesaver, Stevie,” you groaned happily, placing another peck on your boyfriend’s cheek before you headed back to your room, calling out behind you that you should be done for work by six whilst he told you he would have dinner sorted by the time you arrived.

None of your co-workers had the guts to ask any questions, but they speculated amongst themselves. Maybe you had broken up with your last boyfriend and hadn’t told them about it (after all, they had no right to know). Or maybe his tattoos were hidden (though that was doubtful when many of the pieces you showed them were on his arms and torso). Maybe they misheard boyfriend in the context you gave it, maybe it just happened to be a friend who was a boy.

Until not even two weeks later, a curly-haired man in a leather jacket and black jeans sauntered through the door, the arms cut off to show the tattoos littering his pale skin and the slither of skin showing off his stomach telling them his torso probably matched. 

And he was asking for you.

It was nearing closing time when he walked in, waving them off when they told him they had no more appointments and they didn’t do walk-ins. 

“Nah, I’m just waiting for my girl,” he told them with a friendly smile. One that only widened when he saw you walk out the back, your bag thrown over your shoulder. “And there she is! Hey, pretty girl.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “Hey, Eddie.” 

Eddie was shameless in the way he cupped your face between his hands and pressed a loud, wet, somewhat sloppy kiss on your lips before he threw his arm around your shoulder. He waved your co-workers goodbye before heading out, rambling away about a new tape he wanted to play for you when you reached his van.

And with that, they were left with only one conclusion. 

“She’s having an affair!” One of them hissed, eyes wide as they looked at each other. “She is cheating on her boyfriend with the other guy, the prince charming one!” 

“Or maybe the tattoo rockstar is her side piece,” another co-worker put forward. 

“Or maybe she’s just—” 

However, they only quickly shut up when you walked in the room. 

“What’s up?” you asked as you took a seat, your eyes narrowing a little when you saw the way they all stared at each other, wary and cautious. “Why do I feel like I interrupted something?” 

“Which one is it?” one of them blurted out, ignoring the looks they were receiving. 

You frowned in confusion. “Which one is what?” 

“Which one is your boyfriend?” they asked you. “Which one are you stringing along?” 

You paused and they all waited with a bated breath before you burst out laughing, and this time it was their turn to be confused. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved off, not bothering to fight back your grin. “Uh, they are both my boyfriends.” 

Their eyes widened. “Both?” 

“Both,” you confirmed with a nod. “And they are each other’s boyfriend.” 

“Each other’s?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed. 

“So…you’re all…like…” The words trailed off but you knew what they were asking.

“We are all together, yes,” you said with a grin. “I don’t have some scandalous affair going on, though I’m sure my boys will love to hear that.” 

“Right.” 

“Of course.” 

“Makes sense!” 

But you only grinned back at your co-workers, knowing well enough that your boys were going to have a blast with this story.

.

[movedwercs]

>Merc's posted a photo of her "hover-craft." A canvas tent, strapped to a super-large inflatable raft, lined with an extremely sand-scarred sheet-metal bottom, is attached to a single, hollow ring on the back that should have wide fan blades inside it. All told, it's kind of shaped like an old VW bus, but it's a tent with a sloppily-pointed roof, around which a ton of water-proofing tape and duct-flashing has sealed it tight around a burnt-black metal chimney. A screen-tent door is half-opened, flapping in the (temporarily) clear night air; inside is warm yellow light and a haze of white smoke, and over that door, propped up by two poles, is an awning over the door. Under the awning, and all around the edge of the tent's roof-cover, is a string of glass-bottle lights, seemingly filled with magic fires instead of electric lights. Sat in front of the hovercraft is a cheap kettle grill, one leg made of a different material and more duct-flashing. A much darker smoke spills out of this one.

[birlwrites]

what's wizarding music like in the ttdl universe? i've almost always got music on in the background and especially when i'm studying, but all of your characters are just. they're just sitting there studying and doing homework in silence! that would drive me insane!! so i was wondering what wizarding music is like, how available (? accessable? idk) it is in day-to-day life, and if you know, what are the 5th year slytherins' musical preferences? :)

anon you have hit on something that i think about a LOT and still don't have a totally developed 100% this-is-ttdl-canon answer for, so you're going to get a ramble!! and also INFORMATION ABOUT JOHN DOWLAND

(note from the birl who has completed her ramble - actually, less about john dowland than i anticipated, because i had Restraint because there was too much other stuff to talk about. i also haven't really read anything about dowland in like 2 months so WHAT IF MY INFORMATION ABOUT SOMEONE WHO DIED IN 1626 IS OUTDATED)

i generally think of wizarding technology as being behind muggle technology, for the obvious reason that it is. in the 1990s, they've got radio, but they don't have telephones, television, CD players, or computers

some of this is explained by the 'magic and electricity don't mix!!' principle but i'm a little suspicious of this principle bc... well, because i am afjslkghsjkdf. mostly because of 'how do the radios work then'

so imo the REAL reason wizarding technology is behind is because of, as with many things, Blood Purity Mentality. they're not really inspired to figure out how to adopt these things

so, where are they at in the 1970s? there's still radio - it operates on a ~magical frequency~ that manages to get down into the dungeons of hogwarts, so go magic. i think they have gramophones and even vinyl (just in time for muggles to figure out cassette tapes ajfslkghkjldsf), but a certain class of pureblood will sometimes sneer at vinyl for being Too Muggle.

if we think of wizarding culture as being, say, 15-20 years behind, then vinyl's been around for about 10-15 years, so it's been adopted pretty successfully in wizarding culture, but it's viewed as inferior to live performance (create an idea of scarcity and exclusivity!!!!)

like, with things like pensieves and enchanted art, the idea of recording a song so you can play it again without needing to go to a concert where they happen to play it is less special. can you afford a reasonably-sized enchanted oil painting of a string quartet? if you commission one with a list of your favorite pieces etched into the back of the canvas so it's guaranteed that they'll know the pieces you want to hear, you're good to go, no record player needed

so record players definitely aren't ubiquitous, and they tend to be a little unwieldy, so the only people who are going to be lugging those to hogwarts are people who really care about being able to listen to Specific Music. radios are more common. (people also generally aren't lugging oil paintings of musicians to hogwarts ajfskhgskf - wealthy students interested in music might have a miniature- to medium-sized painting with one to three musicians and up to 8 pieces on their 'setlist')

the rosiers have like. over a dozen small portraits of john dowland with his lute the dream and OH MY GOD i don't have room to talk about this on this post this post is already long and hhhhhhhh ANYWAY. if your family ever acted as patrons for a musician, you've probably got at least a couple of paintings of them lying around

but live music is still definitely viewed as Elite. ghost ensembles are popular to hire for events - they have basically infinite time to practice and learn new pieces, and they really don't ask for much in return beyond an audience and applause. live music performed by live people is Especially elite, bc exclusivity mindset

lucinda grew up listening to popular music on the radio and she got maeve into pop with her - there's definitely a radio in the girls' room, i just can't decide which of the two of them it belongs to ajfslkghlksjdf. charlotte will start pulling her hair out if people are playing music while she's trying to think, so they have a lot of Quiet Hours, but charlotte does a lot of her homework in the library anyway so it's not a huge restriction. emma will beg and plead and bribe people with candy to listen to as many quidditch matches as she can possibly manage - lucinda's usually down to listen to pro matches, but sometimes she'll go 'emma i have literally never heard of those teams' and emma goes 'THEY'RE THE FARM TEAMS FOR THE BRITISH LEAGUE' and that's usually when the bribery starts happening, because lucinda likes quidditch but she doesn't like it That much

(maeve gracefully avoids being dragged into those discussions. she's down for whatever :) which means she does not actually want to listen to an exhibition match between farm teams but emma does so)

evan's got a radio stuffed into his wardrobe somewhere - he usually listens to quidditch matches in the girls' room with emma and other than that he doesn't really care ajfslghsjdkf

barty's family has a ton of records thanks to his mom, spanning a wIDE range of genres - he doesn't really bring any of that with him to school (his trunk is already full of books and, you know, unimportant things like his uniform) but he knows a surprising amount about random things here and there. lots of information from liner notes his mom read aloud. he's a mars the bringer of war basic bitch but i forgive him because it is a banger and aren't we all, and also mars the bringer of war is significantly less basic in wizarding culture because it's a Muggle Composition

and regulus fjslghslkdghjsljk. regulus LOVES his peace and quiet. there's a reason he used to do almost all of his work in their dorm room and only moved out into the common room to be Seen. like charlotte, he would lose his mind a little if he was trying to listen to music and do work at the same time - he'd have to block the music out. no radios or enchanted oil paintings for him

so for regulus, listening to music is an Activity all by itself. he's been to a handful of (classical) concerts, and heard plenty of live music at the more salon-y high society gatherings, but his education in pop music (or other genres of commercial music) is,,,, sub-minimal ajglshkgjsldf. (evan's not much better tbh - lots of those salons are In His House, he's just as immersed in art music as regulus is, except for when he happens to be in the girls' room when they're not listening to quidditch)

i haven't put much thought into the development of magical instruments or techniques, because tbqh i am a singer and things like the mechanics of instruments often totally fail to enter my mind as a thing that should be thought about - now i'm having thoughts about dark arts applied to vocal abilities to build quite literally superhuman voices

but i think that one of the reasons that regulus doesn't listen to a lot of music is because it affects him too much. that boy is repressing so much shit and if he listens to too much beethoven or tchaikovsky or dowland or god forbid a REQUIEM MASS (other than like. fauré's) it's all going to come out

[touch-starved-switch]

First off, I'd start with some rope, hoping to keep you still. Arms behind your back and ankles tied together, with some string around both of your big toes, keeping them together. But I'd begin by squirming my hands into the armpits, nibbling your neck as you squirm, but after a few minutes, I'd move to the belly and sides, using only a single finger to drag, making it agonisingly slow and ticklish. But the worst is yet to come. I stop for about 20 seconds before you feel soft fibers on your belly, it's not a feather, but it's a paintbrush, which ever so gently glides over the belly like it was a canvas. After about 10 minutes of the paintbrush, I move to the spot I know the best. That being the footers. Before I even start, I apply baby oil to your feet before grabbing an electric toothbrush in each hand and turning them on and pushing them against the feet. If it wasn't already bad enough, i tape them to the gaps in between both big toes and 4th toe. Then only I grab a grooming glove and begin scrubbing, for as long as I feel as necessary, pleas for mercy that won't come, brief breaks for it to only start back up, you won't be pushed to unconsciousness, but you're pushed to the brink of insanity before I finally stop, which then is it that you're safe, for the rest of that day. Because you realise you're in a room you don't know. You see a mirror and notice a golden collar over your neck. This was only the beginning.

...

That last bit made me kinda uncomfortable cus it has some nsfw vibes sorry if you didn't intend it that way but I think I need to let you know but the rest was very flustering

[thebandcampdiaries]

injijo presents: Aura

injijo has recently released a new studio album titled Aura. This record marks an amazing milestone for the producer, serving as a chance to reveal the full breadth of his creative interests while holding fast to the heartfelt immediacy that first drew listeners in. Although the music could be filed under soul-pop, such a label barely hints at its reach. Bright synthesizers, crisp drum programming, and fleeting forays into contemporary R&B broaden the canvas, giving the project a widescreen quality that feels extremely dynamic, yet remains cohesive.

While shaping Aura, injijo revisited Walter Benjamin’s seminal essay Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, first encountered during university. Benjamin contends that mechanical copies dilute an artwork’s aura, the one-of-a-kind presence it enjoys in a specific time and place. Determined to protect that fragile essence, injijo performed every note live on a well-worn SP404 sampler. There was no quantisation, no pitch correction, and no endless retakes. It was really all about facilitating a direct transmission of ideas, fingers, and circuitry to magnetic tape.

The resulting recordings breathe with the small imperfections that make them unmistakably real, like capturing an actual moment, unfiltered and not heavily post-processed.

The 16 songs on the album explore a wide range of styles and ideas. For instance, the opening track, WE DON'T TALK, features some interesting breakbeat drum samples, which create a very unusual rhythm with a perfect syncopated feel that matches the melodic nature of the vocals. This is a combination of trip-hop, neo-soul, and electronic experimentation that immediately sets the mood. The second song, RIDGE RACER, also explores a variety of electronic beats, especially combining hi-hat and bright percussive sounds with swelling synthesizers and loops in order to create a very soothing and moving dynamic.

The third song, AS I AM, has a more laid-back groove that's more focused on the relationship between the kick drum and the bass in the track, giving it a more mellow vibe that's perfect for creating that sound immersion aspect that makes this album so special. The fourth song is called PRISM-03, and it creates a stunning texture of synthesizers, arpeggios, and rhythms that are far from your usual four-on-the-floor format. This song, more than any other on the record, is a great example of how this album contains experiments not only in terms of rhythm but also in terms of melody.

The song KNOW YOU has a more boom-bap and hip-hop vibe. Fans of beatmakers like J Dilla will immediately connect with the style of this one, which has an old-school flair while still retaining a modern sound. The title track itself, AURA, is a fantastic piece of music that combines chopped-up string instrument samples with a more melodic outlook. The seventh song, TRUST YOU, is one of the more interesting moments on the record for fans of breakbeat and glitchy samples, especially because of the way the drums are arranged, driving the entire dynamic spectrum of the song and leading the charge in the arrangement.

The eighth song, WHILE THE WORLD, is one of the most distinctive compositions on the record as well. The electronic swirling sounds in the arrangement almost give it a futuristic sci-fi vibe, which merges really well with the drum breakbeat aspects of the song. Track number nine is called FEEL AGAIN, and it features a collaboration with ANNAWAK, a perfect opportunity for bringing even more variety to this already extremely diverse record. The following song, YOU TAUGHT ME, is also another collaborative track, this time featuring SAAAZ. This is indeed another opportunity for the music to go someplace else. The intro, featuring some noise, quickly leads into an intriguing and hypnotic beat, where the vocals are almost a part of the rhythm, especially in the way that they are processed and affected.

The idea of combining breakbeat patterns with glitchy vocals to complement the rhythm and the melody is explored further on the song ISN'T THE SAME. Song number 12, IF YOU HAD MY LOVE, also continues on that train of thought, but at the same time it also brings a more melodic approach and an even wider sound, especially in terms of how much the bass is a big part of this arrangement. Song number 13, DMC, happens to be one of the catchiest tunes on the entire album. Perhaps it's because it is one of the least experimental songs on the record, but this is not necessarily a bad thing. On the contrary, it's a reminder that sometimes keeping things simple and going back to basics can be a great way to bring some more variety to an album, even in the context of an extremely experimental and diverse piece of music such as this one. In short, if everything is always so experimental and out there, we kind of lose the ground connection, the baseline that reminds us what experimental means. Having a song like this on the album, on the other end, which is a bit more traditional, is a great meter of how much variety and sonic exploration goes on in this album.

Song number 14, WALKING FOREVER, is a return to some of the most experimental tones on the album, especially when it comes to playing with volume swells and beautiful soundscapes to create a cinematic feel. The next track is titled WHY CAN'T YOU SEE?, and it feels like a continuation of the previous track, especially in the way that the beat morphs and evolves, but also leaves some extra room for the ambience of the song to unfold. Last but not least, UNDERGROUND CENTRAL is a perfect closing track for an album with a lot to say and a huge array of sound, from more traditional neo-soul, boom-bap, and hip-hop, to breakbeat and trip-hop — anything goes.

Stylistically, the record mirrors the artist's eclectic listening diet, and this is why it is highly recommended to people who always like to broaden their horizons when it comes to listening to different types of music. Sonically, Aura is as meticulous as it is emotive in its execution. From the moment you hit the play button, you’ll immediately realize the artist actually put a lot of himself into making this release special. The album's production is kind of like glue that holds everything in place perfectly. The tight, deep low end anchors the grooves, allowing kick drums to land with conviction while leaving headroom for melodic bass lines.

The midrange sounds occupy their lanes with clarity, never crowding the vocal core, and the top end remains smooth and airy, adding shimmer without fatigue. Under close inspection, tiny details, such as filter sweeps, crackle, and other little nuances here and there, create a soundscape that always seems to be on the move, alive. The production is indeed very crisp, but its polished sheen never eclipses songwriting or the arrangements, which truly stand out in their own right. The artist’s smoky, elastic vocals glide from introspective murmurs to falsetto hooks, turning private reflections into stories listeners can inhabit. He writes in brushstrokes rather than paragraphs, leaving ample negative space for audiences to project their own recollections. That conversational tone anchors Aura’s thematic spine: authenticity is not a plug-in to be applied, but a moment to be captured and shared with listeners.

The combination of concept and craft gives Aura its lasting power as an album, serving as a perfect calling card for this music maker. By freezing spontaneous performances in the amber of live takes, injijo safeguards the album’s aura in Benjamin’s sense; no part of the listening experience feels interchangeable or endlessly replicable.

Imperfections become signatures and feel absolutely intentional. Aura traverses future-garage syncopation, neo-soul grooves, and soft-focus R&B melodies without ever sounding scattered. The sequencing flows like a conversation, each song answering a question posed by the last. injijo has not merely compiled a set of tunes; he has minted a living artefact. You can feel it in the grain of the samples, the hush between phrases, and the serendipitous pop of a fader slide caught a hair too late. Aura is imperfect, and that is its power. In an era of frictionless streaming and surgically edited loops, this record’s unapologetic humanity invites listeners to pause, breathe, and remember how thrilling genuine connection through sound can be. It stands as both a time capsule and a manifesto for creating with feeling first.

Find out more and listen:

[partydecorationideas]

Simple yet Striking Valentine's Day Decorations for a Modern Touch

Introduction

Valentine's Day, a celebration of love and connection, need not be adorned with elaborate embellishments. Embracing the modern aesthetic, this guide explores the art of infusing simplicity with striking elegance in Valentine's Day decorations. Modern design principles, characterized by clean lines, minimalism, and contemporary elegance, take center stage, creating an atmosphere that resonates with sophistication.

In the pages that follow, we will delve into minimalistic geometric heart wall art, explore the allure of monochrome balloon garlands, and discover the impact of metallic accents in table settings. LED light string backdrops will set the stage for a modern and romantic atmosphere, while floating floral centerpieces add a touch of organic charm to the sleek surroundings.

Typography takes a modern turn as we design love banners with minimalist fonts, and a contemporary cake display becomes an art-inspired centerpiece. Acrylic or glass elements seamlessly integrate into the decor, and hanging plant installations introduce a breath of fresh, modern greenery.

The marriage of metallic love letter balloons and minimalist gift wrapping ensures that every detail aligns with the modern aesthetic. As we navigate through each idea, simplicity becomes a canvas for elegance, and the striking elements create an ambiance that speaks to the heart of modern romance.

Join us in the exploration of these simple yet striking Valentine's Day decorations, where each design choice is deliberate, and every element contributes to a celebration that is both contemporary and timeless. It's an invitation to embrace the beauty of less, allowing love to take center stage in a space adorned with modern sophistication.

Monochrome Balloon Garland

Creating a monochrome balloon garland for Valentines day decorations provides a sleek and modern focal point that effortlessly blends simplicity with striking elegance. Follow these steps to craft a visually appealing and cohesive monochrome balloon garland:

Materials Needed:

Assorted balloons in your chosen monochrome color (varying sizes)

Balloon pump

Balloon decorating strip or twine

Command hooks or adhesive hooks

Balloon glue dots or double-sided tape

Greenery or additional decor elements (optional)

Steps:

1. Choose Your Monochrome Color Palette:

Select a monochrome color palette that aligns with your overall decor theme. Popular choices include shades of white, cream, black, gray, or any single color that complements your space.

2. Inflate Balloons:

Use a balloon pump to inflate balloons in various sizes. Varying sizes will add visual interest to the garland. Inflate enough balloons to achieve the desired length for your garland.

3. Attach Balloons to Balloon Decorating Strip:

Unroll the balloon decorating strip and lay it flat. If using twine, tie it securely to a fixed point.

Starting with the larger balloons, knot the balloon's tail around the holes in the strip or tie them onto the twine. Leave some space between each balloon.

4. Create Balloon Clusters:

Group balloons of similar sizes together to create clusters. This adds dimension to the garland.

Secure each cluster to the strip or twine using balloon glue dots or by tying them directly.

5. Add Variety with Balloon Sizes:

Intersperse smaller balloons among the larger ones to add depth and texture to the garland. Experiment with different sizes and shapes for a dynamic look.

6. Achieve a Balancing Act:

Maintain a balanced distribution of balloons on both sides of the strip or twine. Step back periodically to assess the overall visual balance.

7. Attach Greenery or Additional Decor (Optional):

For an extra touch, incorporate greenery or additional decor elements into the garland. Use balloon glue dots or twine to attach them strategically, ensuring they blend seamlessly with the monochrome color scheme.

8. Adjust and Shape the Garland:

Once all balloons and additional elements are attached, carefully adjust the positioning of each balloon to create a well-balanced and visually appealing garland.

Shape the garland by gently bending and arranging balloons to achieve a cohesive and flowing design.

9. Secure and Hang:

Once you're satisfied with the arrangement, secure the ends of the balloon decorating strip or twine.

Use Command hooks or adhesive hooks to hang the garland in your desired location. Ensure it is securely fastened.

10. Optional: Add Lights or Fairy String Lights (Optional):

- For added charm, intertwine fairy string lights within the garland or attach battery-operated LED lights to selected balloons.

11. Display Your Monochrome Balloon Garland:

- Hang the completed monochrome balloon garland as a striking backdrop for a Valentine's Day celebration. It can be placed above a dessert table, along a mantel, or as a centerpiece for a romantic dinner setting.

Creating a monochrome balloon garland is a simple yet impactful way to infuse a modern touch into your Valentine's Day decor. The cohesive color palette allows the beauty of the balloons to shine, creating an elegant and visually stunning focal point for your celebration.

Metallic Accents and Table Settings

Infusing metallic accents into your Valentine's Day table setting adds a touch of modern elegance and sophistication. Whether you choose gold, silver, rose gold, or a combination, metallic elements can elevate the ambiance and create a chic and romantic atmosphere. Follow these steps to incorporate metallic accents into your Valentine's Day table setting:

Materials Needed:

Metallic charger plates

Metallic flatware (forks, knives, spoons)

Metallic napkin rings

Metallic candle holders or candlesticks

Metallic table runner or placemats

Metallic-rimmed glassware

Metallic centerpieces or decor items (optional)

Neutral-colored tablecloth or table runner

Fresh flowers or greenery (optional)

Steps:

1. Choose a Metallic Color Scheme:

Decide on a metallic color scheme that complements your overall decor. Popular choices include gold, silver, rose gold, or a combination of metallic tones.

2. Set the Foundation with a Neutral Tablecloth:

Begin by covering the table with a neutral-colored tablecloth or table runner. This provides a clean and elegant backdrop for the metallic accents.

3. Place Metallic Charger Plates:

Set metallic charger plates at each place setting. The metallic base will instantly add a touch of glamour to the table.

4. Arrange Metallic Flatware:

Use metallic flatware, including forks, knives, and spoons, to continue the cohesive metallic theme. Place them neatly on the charger plates.

5. Add Metallic Napkin Rings:

Introduce metallic napkin rings to elevate the presentation of your napkins. Consider folding napkins in a decorative or modern style.

6. Incorporate Metallic Glassware:

Choose glassware with metallic rims or accents. This could include wine glasses, water glasses, or champagne flutes with metallic details.

7. Set Metallic Candle Holders:

Place metallic candle holders or candlesticks as elegant centerpieces. Consider taper candles in metallic holders for a romantic and ambient glow.

8. Integrate Metallic Centerpieces or Decor Items (Optional):

If desired, incorporate metallic centerpieces or decor items. This could include metallic vases with fresh flowers or metallic-themed decorative objects.

9. Arrange Fresh Flowers or Greenery (Optional):

Add a touch of freshness to the table by incorporating fresh flowers or greenery. Consider placing them in metallic vases or arranging them as a floral centerpiece.

10. Ensure Consistency in Metallic Finishes:

- Maintain consistency in the metallic finishes throughout the table setting. Whether it's polished gold, brushed silver, or a mix, coherence contributes to a polished look.

11. Create Individual Place Settings:

- Arrange each place setting with attention to detail. Ensure that metallic elements are evenly distributed, creating a balanced and visually appealing presentation.

12. Pay Attention to Lighting:

- Consider the lighting in the dining area. Adjust the intensity to highlight the metallic accents, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

13. Add Personalized Touches (Optional):

- Enhance the table setting with personalized touches, such as name cards with metallic accents or small metallic tags expressing sentiments of love.

14. Step Back and Assess:

- Take a step back to assess the overall table setting. Ensure that the metallic accents harmonize with the surrounding decor and create a cohesive visual impact.

15. Enjoy Your Metallic-Inspired Table Setting:

- Once satisfied with the arrangement, invite your loved one to enjoy a romantic meal in a sophisticated and stylish setting enhanced by metallic accents.

Incorporating metallic accents into your Valentine's Day table setting adds a contemporary and luxurious flair. The interplay of metallic tones against a neutral backdrop creates a visually stunning and romantic atmosphere, making your celebration a memorable and elegant affair.

LED Light String Backdrop

Creating an LED light string backdrop for your Valentine's Day celebration adds a touch of magic and romance to the atmosphere. This backdrop serves as a visually captivating element that enhances the overall ambiance. Follow these steps to craft a beautiful LED light string backdrop:

Materials Needed:

LED light strings (warm white or a color of your choice)

Lightweight curtain rod or dowel

Curtain rod brackets or hooks

Sheer or lightweight curtains in a neutral color

Extension cords

Command hooks or adhesive hooks

Optional: Tulle, fairy lights, or additional decorative elements

Steps:

1. Choose the LED Light String Color:

Select LED light strings in a color that complements your overall decor. Warm white is a popular choice for a romantic and cozy ambiance.

2. Install a Lightweight Curtain Rod:

Install a lightweight curtain rod or dowel above the area where you want to create the backdrop. Use curtain rod brackets or hooks to secure the rod in place.

3. Hang Sheer or Lightweight Curtains:

Hang sheer or lightweight curtains on the curtain rod. Choose curtains in a neutral color to allow the LED lights to shine through beautifully.

4. Arrange LED Light Strings:

Begin arranging the LED light strings on the curtain rod. Start at one end and weave the lights through the curtain fabric, creating a cascading effect.

5. Secure LED Lights with Command Hooks:

Use Command hooks or adhesive hooks to secure the LED light strings along the curtain rod. This ensures that the lights stay in place and create an evenly distributed glow.

6. Distribute Lights for a Cascading Effect:

Distribute the lights in a way that creates a cascading or waterfall effect. Allow the lights to drape down the curtains, creating a stunning visual display.

7. Optional: Add Tulle or Fairy Lights (Optional):

If desired, enhance the backdrop by adding layers of tulle or intertwining fairy lights with the LED strings. This adds texture and a whimsical touch to the backdrop.

8. Conceal Extension Cords:

Conceal extension cords by running them along the back of the curtains or securing them against the wall. This ensures a clean and polished look.

9. Test the Lights:

Before finalizing the arrangement, test the LED lights to ensure they are working properly and creating the desired ambiance.

10. Adjust and Shape the Backdrop:

- Adjust the arrangement of the LED lights to create the desired shape and flow. Step back periodically to assess the overall visual impact.

11. Hang Additional Decorative Elements (Optional):

- If desired, hang additional decorative elements such as lightweight ornaments or small fabric flowers to enhance the backdrop's aesthetic.

12. Illuminate the Backdrop:

- Turn on the LED lights and enjoy the warm and enchanting glow of the backdrop. Adjust the lighting to suit the desired brightness level.

13. Capture the Ambiance:

- Capture the romantic ambiance by taking a moment to appreciate the LED light string backdrop. This serves as a captivating backdrop for photos and adds a magical touch to your celebration.

14. Dim the Surrounding Lights:

- For a more intimate atmosphere, consider dimming the surrounding lights to allow the LED backdrop to take center stage.

15. Enjoy the Enchanting Atmosphere:

- Once everything is in place, invite your loved one to enjoy a romantic evening surrounded by the enchanting ambiance created by the LED light string backdrop.

Crafting an LED light string backdrop transforms your space into a romantic haven, adding a touch of enchantment to your Valentine's Day celebration. The warm glow of the lights combined with the cascading effect of the curtains creates a visually stunning and memorable atmosphere for you and your loved one to cherish.

Floating Floral Centerpieces

Floating floral centerpieces offer a delicate and romantic touch to your Valentine's Day decor. These ethereal arrangements create an enchanting atmosphere and serve as captivating focal points for your celebration. Follow these steps to craft stunning floating floral centerpieces:

Materials Needed:

Clear glass bowls or vases

Fresh flowers with sturdy stems (roses, orchids, daisies, etc.)

Floating candles

Distilled water

Greenery or additional decorative elements (optional)

Waterproof floral tape

Scissors or floral shears

Steps:

1. Select Clear Glass Bowls or Vases:

Choose clear glass bowls or vases with a wide opening to showcase the beauty of the floating flowers. Ensure they are clean and free of any residues.

2. Prepare Fresh Flowers:

Trim the stems of your chosen fresh flowers to the desired length. For a floating effect, the stems should be long enough to reach the bottom of the container.

3. Create a Bouquet with Waterproof Tape:

Bundle a few stems of flowers together and secure them with waterproof floral tape. This creates a mini bouquet that will float in the water.

4. Place Bouquets in Glass Bowls:

Fill each glass bowl or vase with distilled water, leaving enough space at the top for the flowers to float.

Gently place the flower bouquets in the water, allowing them to float gracefully.

5. Add Additional Decorative Elements (Optional):

If desired, enhance the centerpieces by adding greenery or additional decorative elements. Consider small leaves or delicate sprigs for an added touch.

6. Integrate Floating Candles:

Place floating candles in the water around the floating flower bouquets. Ensure that the candles are evenly distributed for a balanced look.

7. Test the Floating Arrangement:

Test the floating arrangement to ensure that the flowers and candles stay afloat. Make any adjustments needed to achieve the desired visual effect.

8. Set Up Multiple Centerpieces:

Repeat the process to create multiple floating floral centerpieces. Consider varying the types and colors of flowers for a diverse and visually appealing display.

9. Arrange Centerpieces on Tables:

Place the completed centerpieces on tables throughout the space. Consider using them as table centerpieces for a romantic dinner setting or as decorative elements on side tables.

10. Ensure Safety with Floating Candles:

- If using real candles, ensure that they are securely placed in the water and won't tip over. Alternatively, consider using battery-operated LED floating candles for safety.

11. Optional: Illuminate with Submersible Lights (Optional):

- For added enchantment, consider placing submersible LED lights in the water. These will illuminate the arrangement from below, creating a magical and romantic ambiance.

12. Capture the Beauty in Photos:

- Capture the beauty of the floating floral centerpieces in photos. The delicate blooms and flickering candlelight create a picturesque scene.

13. Adjust Throughout the Event:

- Throughout the event, periodically check and adjust the floating centerpieces as needed. This ensures that they maintain their beauty and impact.

14. Dispose of Flowers Thoughtfully:

- After the event, dispose of the flowers thoughtfully. Consider composting or recycling to minimize environmental impact.

Crafting floating floral centerpieces infuses your space with natural beauty and creates a serene and romantic atmosphere for your Valentine's Day celebration. The combination of floating flowers and candles makes for an enchanting display that captures the essence of love and celebration.

Modern Typography Love Banners

Introduce a contemporary and stylish element to your Valentine's Day decor with modern typography love banners. These banners, adorned with sleek lettering and minimalist design, add a touch of sophistication to your celebration. Follow these steps to create your own modern typography love banners:

Materials Needed:

Cardstock or heavy paper in neutral or desired colors

Printer

Scissors or craft knife

Hole punch

String or twine

Glue or double-sided tape

Optional: Craft paint, markers, or stickers for embellishments

Steps:

1. Choose a Modern Font:

Select a modern and clean font for your love banners. Sans-serif fonts or stylish script fonts work well for a contemporary look.

2. Create or Choose Love Messages:

Decide on the love messages or phrases you want to feature on your banners. Keep them concise and impactful, such as "Love," "Forever," or personalized messages.

3. Design the Banners:

Use graphic design software, word processing software, or online design tools to create the banners. Arrange the chosen words in a visually appealing way, experimenting with font sizes and layouts.

4. Print the Typography Designs:

Print the designed banners on cardstock or heavy paper. Ensure the print quality is high to showcase the crisp typography.

5. Cut Out the Banner Shapes:

Carefully cut out the banner shapes. You can create classic triangle banners or opt for a modern geometric shape, such as rectangles or squares.

6. Optional: Add Embellishments (Optional):

Add modern embellishments to enhance the banners. Consider using craft paint, markers, or stickers to incorporate additional design elements or patterns.

7. Punch Holes for String:

Use a hole punch to create small holes near the top corners of each banner. Ensure the holes are evenly spaced and aligned for consistency.

8. String the Banners:

Cut a length of string or twine that suits the desired banner arrangement. Thread the string through the punched holes of each banner, creating a cohesive banner strand.

9. Adjust Banner Spacing:

Adjust the spacing between banners to achieve the desired look. You can leave equal spaces between each banner or vary the distances for a dynamic arrangement.

10. Hang the Love Banners:

- Hang the completed love banners in your chosen location. Common areas include above a fireplace, along a wall, or as a backdrop for a dessert or gift table.

11. Personalize with Photos (Optional):

- If you desire a more personalized touch, consider incorporating small photos of you and your loved one alongside the typography banners. Attach the photos with mini clothespins or adhesive.

12. Create Multiple Strands (Optional):

- For a visually impactful display, create multiple strands of love banners with different messages or complementary designs.

13. Consider Dimensional Elements (Optional):

- Add depth to your banners by incorporating dimensional elements. You can use foam adhesive or folded paper to lift certain parts of the banners, creating a layered effect.

14. Enjoy the Modern Love Banners:

- Step back and enjoy the contemporary charm of your modern typography love banners. The sleek design and heartfelt messages create a visually striking addition to your Valentine's Day decor.

15. Take Photos to Capture the Moment:

- Capture the beauty of your modern love banners in photos. The stylish typography and thoughtful messages serve as a timeless memento of your Valentine's Day celebration.

Crafting modern typography love banners allows you to infuse your space with a touch of contemporary romance. The clean lines and minimalist design create an elegant backdrop that complements various decor styles, making it a versatile and visually pleasing addition to your Valentine's Day celebration.

Conclusion

As your space becomes adorned with modern typography love banners, the atmosphere transforms into a canvas of contemporary romance. Each carefully chosen word and sleek design element contributes to an ambiance that is both stylish and heartfelt. The banners, with their minimalist charm, serve as a visual representation of the sentiments shared during this special celebration of love.

In creating these modern love banners, you've woven together the artistry of typography with the profound emotions that accompany Valentine's Day. The clean lines, sans-serif fonts, and thoughtfully arranged messages convey a sense of sophistication, reflecting the modern era's approach to expressions of love.

As the banners hang gracefully, they become more than decorative elements; they become silent messengers of affection and connection. The carefully chosen words, whether simple and classic or uniquely personal, echo the essence of your relationship and the celebration of love that defines this day.

As you bask in the glow of modern love banners, capturing the ambiance through photographs and creating lasting memories, remember that it is not just about the visual appeal. These banners are symbols—symbols of the connection you share, the journey you've embarked on together, and the beautiful moments that continue to unfold.

As you celebrate Valentine's Day enveloped by the modern elegance of your typography banners, may the words resonate deeply, echoing the sentiments of love, commitment, and appreciation. It's a celebration of the unique bond you've forged, presented in a contemporary aesthetic that adds a touch of timeless romance to the occasion.

Cheers to the artistry of modern love, to the impact of carefully chosen words, and to the enduring beauty of a celebration made all the more special by the thoughtful details that adorn your space. May your Valentine's Day be filled with love, connection, and the unmistakable charm of modern romance.

[alllinesarebeautiful]

Day 335 art meditation, 7.15.23. Ocean Heart-Art. 🩵💚💜

This is some of the ‘last’ Ocean Abalone Heart-Art. ‘Last’ in quotes because Heart-Art never ends, and, with all the courage in the world, neither do our heart spaces. I didn’t have that courage in the last two weeks -  a familiar kind of quitting on myself - but I do have courage today.

I turned 55 on July 5th, and I was struck with how easy it is to create the lives we don’t want. Conversely, it’s just as easy to create the lives we do want, if I drop the resistance. This birthday came and went and I saw clearly what choices I have not been making, but also how I am getting closer to what I do want, the big one being I have time and freedom and silence to listen to my heart all day …

But there is something I have been doing the last 6 months - sharpening my inner space, and staying there more than 5 minutes a day. The third eye space that produces ideas, but isn’t something I can put on my resume. Every resume year I learn how to feel that heart space, MORE. (Someday I’m going to write my real resume, the one that comes from my heart, not the one we write for our Egos.) 

I do know that if I manage to get to this inner space for 5 minutes a day, the whole day feels better. This must be what the concept of Alignment feels like.

One of those ethereal moments - which feel crazy to speak about - I realized that I will step into my power now. Even now as I write, the sense is not as strong as it was the day I felt it, but I do remember realizing that I have a lot of gifts and I’m going to use them all. There is no one way to do this, and yet there is so much advice out there … 

That was my biggest birthday gift. The spiritual lesson is to feel things from the inside out, I’ve known that intellectually, but I finally felt it. My big tiny opening.

🩵

I love this idea of showing up in the world as a way to send out signals. Rumi said, “What you seek, is seeking you.” I have to use my words and art as smoke signals. You won’t know that you are in search of me until you find me, and I won’t know I am in search of you until we meet. Whatever the thing, whoever the people, it hasn’t been formed yet.

💜

So here is another Paper Dress I’m preparing. 

💚

Cutting out paper dresses and wall art is a slow meditative and feels so old-fashioned. Illustrator and Photograph are my paint brushes, tools and canvas … I do enough work in Adobe, so I want to take as much of my art into making with my hands ... Digital art doesn’t have scissors or tape! It takes all day to print and cut and tape, totally inefficient, which is the way our hearts work. It’s that slow-is-faster idea …  

🩵

I like my artistic method now, but it’s taken me a decade to make peace with it -  to completely destroy the first beautiful piece of art and build it back up again, into something else, a new stage … And most important, see how I feel about it, no thinking.

💚

And finally, as I rebuild my 12 year old self up, I LOVE that this scarf that I knitted happens to match this artwork. The only purpose is JOY … 

(Randomly adding a string of paper hearts which I’m hanging in our hallway that was a birthday present! 😍😍😍)

I want the way the colors of my art, the dress, the scarf unify and blend to somehow help us understand that we all love each other … If we could only stop the inner resistance.

🩵💚💜🩵💚💜🩵💚💜

Love Anne

[tea-and-waffles-errday]

10 Creative Ideas for Using Miniature Lights in Your Craft Projects

Miniature lights can be used to create a multitude of unique and creative craft projects. These tiny lights can be incorporated into a variety of materials allowing craft makers to personalize their projects and add unique design elements. Some of these creative ideas for using miniature lights in craft projects include incorporating them into handmade cards, creating unique wall art, making jewelry items, making illuminated scrapbook pages, adding lighted accents or backlighting to framed prints and posters, creating a lighted table centerpiece, making decorative signs, designing illuminated terrariums, and use them for holiday décor. With all these possibilities, miniature lights for crafts offer endless possibilities for craft projects.

Light up Picture Frames

Creating a unique accent for your home can be easily accomplished with a simple light up picture frame. Using battery operated LED lights, you can create a unique and eye-catching design in any room. To begin, you will need a picture frame, some card stock, and of course, LED lights. You can purchase mini-LED lights that come with an adhesive backing, making them easy to stick on the inside of the picture frame. You can also purchase larger LED light clusters if you would like to create a more significant design. Once you have stuck the adhesive lights around the edge of the frame, place the card stock inside. This will act as your canvas and can be customized in color and pattern. Now comes the fun part, begin arranging your LED lights in whatever design you wish. You can choose from a wide variety of colors that will give your picture frame a unique and custom look. Allow your creativity and imagination to guide you as you light up your picture frame. Once you are satisfied with your design, turn the lights on and prepare to be amazed.

Crafting with Battery Operated LED Strings

Adding a spark of light to your crafting projects is easy to do with battery operated LED strings. These strings of LED lights come in a variety of colors and styles and can be used to add a special touch to any project. You can use the strings of lights to add a festive touch to Christmas decorations, a romantic feel for Valentine’s decorations, or a spooky atmosphere for Halloween decorations. Battery operated LED strings are easy to use and secure. To begin using them, simply wrap them around or through the object you are decorating. Secure them with tape or glue if you need to, but be sure to avoid adhering the lights to material that would be pulled away with the string. Once the strings are secure, you can arrange the lights as you like. They can be all on one side, multiple strings of different colors, or in a single pattern. Allow the lights to illuminate your project and create something unique and memorable. 

Illuminate Mason Jar Lanterns

Mason jar lanterns are becoming increasingly popular for craft projects. This is due to the fact that they are simple to make and create a beautiful effect. Mason jar lanterns can be illuminated with battery operated LED lights. To begin, gather your supplies. You will need a mason jar, a thin metal strip, LED light strands, a thin metal washer, and a screw. The metal strip will act as the outside of the lantern and the washer and screw will hold it in place. Cut the metal strip into a circle and adhere it to the sides of the mason jar using hot glue or epoxy. Once the metal strip is in place, begin arranging the LED light strands around the metal strip. Secure the strands with tape or glue, if necessary. Once this is done, slide the washer over the strands and screw it into place to secure them. Turn on the light and watch your beautiful mason jar lantern come to life. 

Crafting with Micro LED Lights

Adding a special touch to your crafts is easy to do with micro LED lights. These tiny lights are an excellent way to add a special shimmer to any project and come in a variety of colors. To use the lights, all you have to do is stick them on. They come with an adhesive backing that makes it easy to adhere them to whatever material you are using. You can use these lights to enhance scrapbooking projects, create unique cards, and add a shine to photo frames and more. The only limit is your own imagination. If you want to be creative, try using multiple colors of lights to create stunning effects. Micro LED lights are also great for accenting larger LED light displays. They can be used to highlight certain parts of the display for an eye-catching effect.

Illuminated Centerpieces

Illuminated centerpieces can help light up any occasion. Whether it's a romantic dinner, a birthday celebration, or a special holiday event, an illuminated centerpiece will add a unique and special touch. Crafting an illuminated centerpiece is simple to do using battery operated LED lights. To begin, decide on your centerpiece's base. It can be a simple vase, a bowl, or whatever you desire. Once you have chosen a base, fill it with marbles, stones, shells, or any other kind of decor you wish. Then, begin wrapping the LED lights around the outside of the centerpiece base. Secure them in place with tape or glue if needed. You can use multiple colors of lights to create a unique, multi-colored display. Once the lights have been attached, turn them on and watch as your illuminated centerpiece casts a beautiful glow over your event.

Create a Special Effects Display

Creating a special effects display is a fun and unique way to light up the night. You can use battery operated LED lights to create stunning visuals that you, your family, and friends can enjoy. You'll need a variety of LED lights in different sizes and colors. LED floodlights, spotlights and strip lights are all great options. Begin by determining where you will place the lights. You'll want to place large or bright lights in the back and smaller and dimmer lights in the front. Once the lights are in position, turn them on and adjust as necessary. Experiment with different colors and arrangements for an eye-catching display. Add music to your display to create a visually dynamic experience that will cast an unforgettable glow over any event. 

Create a Light Up Sculpture

Creating a light up sculpture is an art form that combines lights and sculptures. You can use battery operated LED lights to create a one-of-a-kind, light up sculpture that will be sure to impress everyone who sees it. Begin by gathering your materials. You will need LED lights in various sizes and colors, along with a variety of crafting materials like stones, wire, and twigs. Start by creating the base of the sculpture. Once you have the foundation of the sculpture, begin stringing and wrapping the LED lights around the sculpture. Be sure to use the different sizes and colors of lights to create an eye-catching visual. Once the lights are in place, turn them on and watch as your light up sculpture comes to life.

Conclusion

Miniature lights can add a whole new dimension to craft projects. Whether you're decorating for a holiday, making home decor or creating a craft project for a special occasion, incorporating miniature lights can be a fun and creative way to add an extra touch. With so many options and ideas available, it’s easy to find the right miniature lights to bring a unique and creative look to your projects.

[asenloby]

5 DIY Neon Sign Home Decor Projects you can do at Home

by Nisha Jangir

Neon signs have been a popular trend in home decor for quite some time now. They give any area a dash of retro charm and can make it into a hip, modern setting. A personalised neon sign, yet, can be pricey to buy. The good news is that you can create neon signs at home using a few inexpensive materials and tools. These are five ideas you may complete at home to decorate using neon signs.

Neon LED sign and wire: Flexible LED Neon tubes are among the simplest materials that can be used to make a neon sign. These lights come in a variety of colors and are twisted to create the design you want. All you need to get started is some wire, pliers, and LED neon lights. The wire can be used to form words, symbols, or even shapes, to which the neon tubes can then be attached with glue or tape. Plug in the lights when you're done and watch your creation come to life.

Electric neon sign: Another excellent alternative for creating your own neon sign is EL, which stands for an electroluminescent wire. When an electrical current flows through it, a thin, flexible wire turns on. If you bend the wire and attach it with tape or glue, you can create the design you want. You'll need a battery to power the EL wire, which you can attach to the back of your sign, to power the EL wire. EL Wire is available in a variety of shades and can be a wonderful way to add a splash of color to your decor.

Neon Colors: A vibrant splash of color to your decor can also be achieved with neon paint. It can be applied to a canvas or even a wall to make your neon sign. You can use stencils or draw your design by hand to create it. Once your design is complete, let the paint dry before adding a black light to make it shine.

Neon-tape artwork: An excellent substitute for conventional neon lights is neon tape. It is simple to use and offered in a number of colors. Either use the tape to draw your design directly on the wall or draw it on a piece of paper and then tape it to the wall. Because the tape is self-adhesive, it is simple to apply and remove without leaving a mark on the wall. If you want a temporary neon sign, this is a wonderful choice.

String Neon Art: String art has been a well-liked DIY craft for a while, but utilising neon string will up the ante. You can draw your design on a canvas or even a wooden board. Once you've finished designing, hammer some nails into the design to hold the string in place. Watch it glow after you're finished by hanging it up.

In conclusion, creating your own neon signs at home is a fun way to give your interior design some individuality and color. Your own personalised neon sign can be made at home using a few basic pieces of equipment and supplies. These tasks are enjoyable, simple, and only take a few hours to complete. Why not try it out and see what kind of neon sign you can produce?

[starlessea]

Here Comes the Sun: I. Yellow Submarine (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 4632

Chapter Warnings: Language, Non-descriptive violence

The tent was sunshine yellow. Stood out like a sore thumb, that's for sure. Against a backdrop of auburn tree-trunks and dingy mud, or even those full green leaves that stretched their way outwards on the branches like fingers reaching for the midday sun, the tent sat blissfully ignorant to its own impracticality. 

The others had opted for khaki green, or black. It wasn't until the first night you all pitched them in camp, row upon row of perfectly camoflauged tents alongside your fucking yellow submarine, that you realised that perhaps you'd made a mistake.

They'd tried to cheer you up despite your embarrassment, joking that it matched your personality, or offering reassurance that it brightened up the place. For you, it was the first thing that made the situation seem so real. This wasn't a camping trip where you'd toast marshmallows and share ghost stories - drinking too much beer and ending the night delightfully buzzed, staring up at the yellow canvas of your one-person retreat. This was survival and you'd already made a stupid choice.

Yet, for all that you worried about other camps running into you because of your obnoxious yellow dinghy, or the number of times you'd had to pack it down and set it back up again when you relocated, you never got rid of it. One time the group had passed a store selling hiking equipment and other supplies, but you didn't so much as look in the general direction of the tents. Although you'd never admit it out loud, you loved yours. Yellow became your new favourite colour without you even noticing it; maybe because it was safe, or it felt warm. 

On those peaceful mornings in camp, where you'd wake up feeling content despite the crick in your neck or the bug bites itching your arms - courtesy of the small hole in the netting - yellow was the first thing you saw.

When you'd open your eyes and let the light stream in through the little plastic window, like a circular port-hole with a little popper flap, for a few minutes each morning you were convinced that everything would be okay. Albeit, the peace never lasted long. Soon you'd have to unzip it and face the world, washing laundry and scavenging food to cling on to any resemblance of normality. Still, at the end of a hard day, when your fingers stung raw and blistered, one of the things that kept you going was returning to that tent of yours and humming 'Yellow Submarine' until someone yelled at you to be quiet from a tent over - and the rest would laugh.

Now, the tent looked as though it had seen better days. The middle pole had a slight crook in it where you'd packed it in a hurry last time, and the whole structure seemed a bit dilapidated as a result. It looked as though it were hunched over moping, not really matching its bright exterior. The netting had almost unravelled completely, as well - the pieces of string and patchwork tape having lost their battle against a particularly stormy night. You'd give anything for those peaceful days of yellow sunshine in the camp again. You had taken it all too much for granted.

"Stupid goddamn tent!" You huffed, pulling at the zipper aggressively to try and fix the jam. It had caught in the material half-way closed again. "I will throw you in the creek, you hear me?"

Perhaps you had finally lost it. Here you were, wiggling that rusted zipper like your life depended on it, all while making empty threats to a tent. You wondered if it was heatstroke. The sun beat down on your lower back something fierce as you squatted in your battle with the door. It wasn't like you had anything worth stealing in there anyway; there were clothes, a few water bottles and minimal food at best. You doubted anyone would take a liking to the polaroids strung up on the canopy, either. Anything valuable you kept on you, in case you needed to run away. Seems like that's all you were good at doing these days.

It had been a week since the camp had collapsed. It had been out of nowhere. Your colleagues, campmates, had all been in the main communal area when it happened - a small clearing where you all ate together around a low campfire in the nights. You'd been a ways away, in your tent, reading some book you'd read a hundred times before. It wasn’t like you had much other entertainment, but you'd have brought better material if you knew the world was going to end.

You'd been an English student for four years, a teacher for a few more, and had finally gone into research. That's what brought you out here in the first place, in the middle of nowhere preparing for a seminar in Atlanta. It was your first time away from home for so long alone. Your mother called every day asking how it was going, and you'd complain about the weather - more used to the rain back home than the scorching heat that made you sticky with sweat just by stepping outside. 

Yet, nothing made you more homesick than hearing those Southern accents everywhere you went. The camp would joke about it, a small British girl out of her depth with these Georgia-hardened yanks. You remember quipping back a "yeehaw" and rolling your eyes as they chuckled. Maybe that was the reason you liked the tent so much - for the comradery. You both stood out like sore thumbs wherever you went around here.

Still, that night you'd been stuck reading a beaten copy of Wuthering Heights for the twelfth time, like some kind of torturous routine that made you go from loving to tolerating it at best. It had made you question your entire career path when you'd only thought of bringing three books along with you to survive the apocalypse. Though, you guessed you should be grateful for that many, after someone had threatened to burn them to keep the fire going on one of those first nights.

You'd been dozing off when you first heard it, book face down on your chest to mark the page. At first you thought it could be your half-awake mind playing tricks, coming out of sleep all fuzzy like you usually did. Or perhaps you’d experienced that falling sensation you had so often in your dreams nowadays. Whatever it was, something had woken you with a fright. Then you heard it again - a scream in the distance, not too loud but definitely a scream for help. Then came another one. Then another.

You recognised the voices of your campmates after what felt like minutes, but was probably only a second or two at most. You pulled your boots on quickly, grabbing the sheathed knife next to your sleeping bag and holding it with trembling hands as you unzipped the tent. It was empty as you stepped outside, and you glanced around the sleeping area before starting to run for the clearing with your heart pounding in your chest. 

You weren't sure what to expect. You couldn't really fight, having only killed a couple of the undead since this whole thing started - and only when you absolutely had to. You just weren't built for fighting; you were small, weak, and a goddamn English teacher. The most physical activity you'd had to do before all this was taking the stairs when the elevator of your apartment complex was broken.

Still, you had to try. These people had taken you in alongside their families knowing that you had no one out here to look out for you. Your colleagues had been with you every step of the way since the outbreak happened; they watched as you phoned your parents sobbing and wanting to go home, gave you your first knife and showed you how to use it, and even tried to teach you how to shoot a pistol despite how scared you were to even touch one. You were like a helpless foreign exchange student who only knew magazines as something to read for gossip in salons, and not something to load a gun with. Damn UK firearm laws had really fucked you over for the end of the world.

As you approached the clearing, staying hidden behind some trees in the back not illuminated by the small fire, you realised how hopeless it was. There were too many. It was nothing like you'd ever seen before. Even those first few days, when everyone scrambled away from the cities, clambering over one another and attacking each other for resources, they were nothing compared to this. The knife still shook as you grasped it with both trembling hands, squatting behind a bush with wide eyes like a deer in headlights. These people had saved you and were getting eaten in front of you. Yet, you couldn't do a damn thing.

Amidst the chaos you'd caught the eyes of one of your group, Vanessa, who stood at the opposite side of the clearing hiding back like you were. She looked down at the knife in your hands, before meeting your eyes once again, her's full of tears. She shook her head slowly, gesturing to the knife, then glancing back at the scene unfolding between you both with a lifeless expression. 

You dropped the knife and ran back to the tent without so much as a look backwards, legs shaking and palms clammy the whole way. Once you got there, you immediately scrambled inside, pulling the zip closed so quickly that it jammed a few times before shutting entirely. You dimmed the lantern and crawled under your sleeping bag, holding your hand to your mouth to quiet your panting breaths.

The entire night you stayed completely still where you lay, not daring to move a muscle. You had no weapon and only a thin tent stood against you and the undead. So you played dead. It felt like days before you had the courage to move in the slightest. The noise had died a while ago but you aired on the side of caution - or perhaps more so on the side of fear. You had been cowardly and hid. It was all you could do, run away and hide and let the people who saved you die.

It had been just over a week since then. The undead had passed through but you couldn't stay there after what had happened. There was no one left to stay there with. You'd searched for Vanessa but found no trace of her, living or dead. You couldn't stomach looking around the clearing too long. You told yourself it was because it was unsafe, but in reality you couldn't risk seeing a familiar face amongst corpses and bloodshed. So, you packed up your yellow submarine and got the hell out of dodge.

The first few days had been rough - the guilt, the fear, the hunger. Your stomach had growled but you had no appetite, and whatever you could manage to eat didn't stay down for too long. It was exhausting having no one to watch your back, no one to take watch whilst you slept. You had one tactic for dealing with the undead, and that was to run. You felt useless but you just didn't want to risk it. You were smart, you understood the likelihood of survival with your stature and experience. So, you always ran away.

Yet, you had no plan for anything else. You knew the geography of the nearby area, having explored it pretty well. Yet, you were still out in the open, exposed at Atlanta's backdoor, in the middle of who knows where. The whole place was just too damn big. You were sure someone's backyard could be the size of your entire town back home. It just seemed to be clearing after clearing, stream after stream. You hadn't found shelter in the entire week, having to keep pitching your tent as you went along looking for safety.

After finally getting the stubborn zipper to shut, you made your way to the stream to wash up. You felt disgusting. Your hair was pulled into a low ponytail just to keep the griminess away from your face, and your clothes had definitely seen better days. Not to mention the heat made you sweat at the slightest exertion, as the sun beat down on your pale skin and burned it if you stayed out too long.

"What I wouldn't give for a nice shower." You muttered to yourself, splashing the back of your neck with the cool creek water when you arrived. 

You were tempted to just strip out of your dirty clothes and jump in, but the thought of having to run from the undead, naked and exposed, made you second guess that decision. You laughed to yourself. The only thing more mortifying than becoming a zombie was becoming a naked zombie. You refilled a bottle of water while you were there, and quickly scouted the area before making your way back to the tent. You were thinking of having something to eat, from whatever was left of your measly protein bar collection, before going out again to look for shelter.

The walk to and from the tent was quiet. You hadn't seen any undead for a few days now, since the group of them moved on from your camp. You'd thought this place safe was before, as safe as any place could be in this new world you now lived in. The trickle of the stream flowed softly as you walked alongside it, and everything remained docile save for the cool breeze that rustled the leaves every now and then. The place seemed laughably tranquil considering what had transpired a week before.

It was too quiet for you. It left you lost in your own thoughts, and they got pretty loud most days. Curse of the gifted, your mother would call it - couldn't be selectively smart, she'd tell you, when you complained about how your mind just wouldn't shut off. You'd overthink brief meetings in the shower, or cringe at embarrassing moments repeating endlessly in your head, or think of a scene in a novel you'd read a month prior until you'd exhausted all of its meaning. It seemed more of a curse now than ever, at the end of the world. You couldn't afford to get distracted, and you had to be strong. It just seemed so difficult when you unintentionally replayed that night over and over again, like a film only you could watch.

The tinnitus was worse. In the old world, you'd have headphones on most hours of the day. Call it foolish, but your younger self didn't care for much else but blasting songs at full volume or going to concerts that left your head ringing for days. It's one of the things you missed most from before. Any type of music would do, you just wished to hear something, anything, with a melody. Nowadays, the soft running water of the creek and occasional birds chirping in the morning did little to ease the incessant high-pitched buzzing sound in your ears.

Even now you heard it, more harsh than usual. It rang out like a scraping of metal against metal, making a shiver run along your spine. It reminded you of the clanking of beer jugs in bars, or the scraping of chalk on your board - but constantly, with no reprieve. 

You stopped in your tracks. Never had your tinnitus sounded like this, or made you think of those things. No, this wasn't in your head at all. These were the sounds of the trip wire around your tent. You'd hooked some string around the perimeter, on the base of the tree trunks, and tied an assortment of things to it that would make noise if disturbed. There were metal cans, spoons, keys, anything you could find that would alert you if the undead got too close.

Despite being able to see bright yellow in your peripheral, you couldn't make out what had caused the noise. You immediately stepped away from the path, where the grass was more flattened and easier to walk on, and edged deeper into the trees where you pressed your back flush up against one. Your breathing picked up and suddenly you felt very exposed, eyes darting side to side whilst you stayed motionless with bark pressing roughly into your skin. You slowly reached for your knife, in the small sheath attached to your belt, careful not to make any sudden movements. You hoped you could just wait for the undead to pass along like usual, wherever it was.

"Don't move." You felt your stomach drop as you heard the voice speak behind you. 

Your hands froze in place, hovering above the knife, and you didn't dare turn your head around to look. Then, you heard the familiar clicking sound as a pistol was cocked and no doubt pointed towards you.

"Please don't shoot!" You half yelled, terrified. 

Your hands flew up into the air away from the knife, and you pressed your elbows firm against the tree.

"I'm unarmed. Just the knife." You blurted, eyes looking down to your belt to gesture it. You wondered if that was the right decision, showing how defenceless you were. You didn't have any resources to offer, either.

You finally turned your head to see a man and a woman standing there, the man with his gun trained on you. You instantly shivered. He was intimidating; he was tall, built, head shaved with dog tags around his neck. You wondered if he was military. The woman beside him had a gun too, lowered, but her finger still on the trigger as she eyed you carefully. The man motioned her with his head, repositioning the gun in warning.

"Andrea." He spoke with eyes still locked on you, and she nodded and began to approach. "Don't get any ideas." He warned, voice low and gravelly. 

You stayed motionless as the woman took the knife from your sheath and frisked you, before stepping back behind the man once again. The man finally lowered his gun, but didn't put it away.

"You alone?" He asked, sounding more like an order than a question. 

You nodded carefully, whilst lowering your arms from above your head. Your heart pounded so loud you could hear the blood rush in your ears, and your legs felt like they could collapse at any moment. The pair looked at you with caution, glancing around to see if you were lying. The tension could be cut with a knife. You didn't know whether to take your chances and run, or try talking with them.

"That yours?" The man gestured your tent in the distance, cocking his head in the direction. 

You nodded again, wondering what else you could do. You thought you resembled a bobblehead, rendered speechless by the two figures with guns. They definitely knew how to use them, you thought.

"I-" You started, causing them to readjust in anticipation. You took a step back hesitantly before continuing. "That's my tent." You pointed towards it again, stating the obvious. "I don't have much. Just my knife, some water and not much food." Your voice trembled despite your attempts to keep it strong and clear. "Take it if you must, but please leave me be."

The two glanced at each other, the woman raising an eyebrow before putting her gun away in the back of her jeans. The man seemed more hesitant, but soon followed suit and put his own back in its holster. 

"Not lookin' to take your stuff." He spoke after what seemed like a while. 

He threaded his thumbs through the belt loops of his trousers and looked into the distance, at nowhere in particular. You didn't let yourself relax yet. You didn't know either of them.

The man wore a black t-shirt with camouflage pants, and a pair of combat boots to match. You thought he must have some sort of training to be able to negotiate like he did. The woman, Andrea you thought you'd heard him call her, had a white button-up shirt and jeans on. Her blonde hair was tied up neatly. You realised that they both looked clean. Hell, you couldn’t remember when the last time you saw a white shirt was. You wondered if they had a camp somewhere, and if it was safe.

"We're lookin' for a little girl." The man spoke again, who you were now sure was the leader out of the two of them.

"I'm a little girl." You answered, gesturing your height in comparison to his with a small smile. 

He glared back unamused and you realised that now wasn't the time to be funny, even if it was a nervous coping mechanism. 

You cleared your throat a little before continuing."You're going to have to be more specific."

"A little girl. Eleven years old, about this high." He reached his hand to his chest. "You seen 'er?"

You swallowed thickly. There was a lost child. "No. I'm sorry." 

Andrea sighed and turned on her heels, looking away from you as she kicked the ground with her boot. 

"Is she yours?" You questioned, looking up at the man.

"One of our group." 

You nodded and looked towards the floor. You hadn't seen anybody since the fall of your camp, and you'd circled around the area more times than you could count.

"I came from that direction. Had a camp there until recently. Haven't seen any sign of her from there." You pointed vaguely, wondering how much of the area they'd searched already, or if they had any clue where she might be. 

You thought that this could be your chance. If they had a camp, a base of organisation to look for this little girl, maybe you could go back with them. You knew the area pretty well by now. Even if you didn't have anything else to offer, it could be something.

You looked the man in the eye again as you spoke. "Are you set up somewhere around here? I could help you look-"

"No." You almost jumped back as he cut you off abrasively, seeming to get angry even at the suggestion. "Got enough mouths to feed, enough people to keep safe." 

He took a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. You took a step back in return, feeling the bark press against your back once again. 

"Heck, for all I know you and yer group could try and ambush us."

Andrea glanced up at the man, and then back at you with careful eyes. She watched the exchange but didn't offer anything to it.

"There is no group anymore. Just me." You admitted quietly, not meeting the harsh glare of the man who towered above you, too close for comfort. H

e took a step back at that, giving you more space to breathe. You saw his eyes soften slightly with understanding, but it was only for a brief second.

"Sorry, Ma'am, but I don't care. You ain't comin' with us." He looked you up and down quickly, but you still caught it. 

The way he'd seemed amused, the corner of his lip raising slightly to patronise you, made you feel a lot smaller than you already felt next to him before. He glanced over to your tent briefly, too. Suddenly, you felt very ashamed of your yellow submarine. His face said it all, and you felt very inadequate. 

"You can stay here and not cause any trouble, but I don't wanna see ya anywhere near our camp." He finished.

You shook your head quickly, stepping forward to grab his arm before he turned to leave. "I'm not a threat, I could help out-"

He immediately snatched his hand away, making you stumble backwards from the force. 

"Not anywhere near us, you hear me?" He whispered, but the words held more intent than the one's he'd barked at you earlier. You felt a cold chill run over you. "I won't ask nicely again." 

He turned away fully this time, shucking his backpack onto his shoulder and thumbing over the gun in its holster. He marched past the women still stood staring at you apologetically, not even giving a single glance back to you. 

"C'mon Andrea, let's head back."

You stalked back to your tent in silence. For once, you felt as though you didn't have a single thought floating around in that head of yours. Yet, for what your mind lacked, your body made up for. Your hands trembled, but you were unsure if in fear or anger. You'd picked your knife back up from the floor where they'd left it, and resheathed it before heading back. The midday sun had come and gone by now, starting to dip in the sky as the air around you got cooler and more bearable.

Approaching the tent wordlessly, you squatted down to unzip it. The zip caught immediately, not making it a quarter of the way open before you heard the characteristic snag. You let out a deep breath and undid the cap of the water bottle you'd filled up at the stream, taking a gulp of it before pouring the rest of it over your head. 

You looked down towards the floor where you hovered, letting the water run down your neck to your lower back, and over your hair to your forehead. It stung as it reached your eyes,  the corners already welling with tears, and you wiped them with sweaty hands that only made them sting more from the salt.

You stood up suddenly, straightening your legs and moving your wet hair out of your eyes. You took another deep breath before throwing the empty plastic bottle at a nearby tree, hearing it crunch pathetically quiet as it hit it.

"Fuck!" You growled, looking over at your tent before kicking it with your boot. 

It didn't do anything, obviously; it only made a pitiful flapping sound as your foot slid across the canvas material and made it ripple. 

"Fuck." You spat again, pulling off the shoe and throwing it at the yellow dinghy this time, only for it to get slightly absorbed by it before tumbling off. 

You stood there for a moment, chest heaving and water droplets running down the back of your neck. You squatted back down opposite the tent, looking up at it panting, your eyes squinting slightly from the low sun. Your boot lay next to it, and you looked down at your bare foot and laughed bitterly.

You had your chance and you blew it. Now, you were alone again. Suddenly, you heard a slight rustle, followed by a clank, and whipped your head up to see that your tent had bowed even further. Your boot must have made the support beam cave in more. You laughed, rubbing your temple. 

"Really?" You whispered. 

It now resembled more of a sad meringue, you thought, rather than a tent. A few more chuckles escaped your mouth before you fell backwards with a slump, sitting on the muddy ground just staring in front of you at your shambled home, and at the holes in your sock. Then you cried.

The sun set even further and cast a shade by the trees. There was a dryness in the air, but it wasn't the same stifling humidity of the day. The stream still flowed uninterrupted over the crags and rocks, and no undead rattled the string of mismatched cutlery and tincan meals. Rather, it was quiet. That is, until the ringing started again and it was not.

A/N The chapter that started it all! 

Send me a message if you want to be included in the taglist for chapters!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @greenbeansarelit @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli

[yostresswritinggirl]

If you're plate isn't too full, can I request a couple of fluffy hc's about Albedo with a photographer! s/o? Like, his s/o enjoys taking pictures of the environment and etc, and even take pictures of Albedo whenever he just does stuff, and Albedo enjoys sketching then whenever they just do a whole picture spree- they even exchange pictures too

Yes, my plate is too full and I'm confused why you guys don't see the request closed thingy in my description. But does it look like I care? No, I miss writing for Albedo and you're getting Albedo NOW-

Sepia Times

Albedo with a Photographer!S/O headcanons/scenarios... (event masterlist)

Ever since Fontaine released their newest device called Kamera, you had been so adamant in getting ahold of one that you ended up going on a travel spree to the said nation. Not even waiting for the shipment to Mondstadt, you left a quickly written note of your whereabouts before you left.

Spontaneous as ever, Albedo thought to himself as his grip on the note tightens with worry.

Luckily, three days later, you hailed from the Hydro Archon's land with your newest prized possession in hand. Triumphant and giddy, both of your lives changed drastically from there.

Albedo first and foremost, almost dismantled your Kamera. Actually he may have already done so behind your back, he was just caught the last time. He was really curious of its machinations and wanted to reverse engineer it.

He only ever lived because he was fast enough to reassemble it and show you that it still works. If not, you were already charging at him to throw hands. You did not travel for three days just for the Kamera to be broken. Whether he found what he was looking for or not, he's not allowed to touch it until he gets his own when the supply reaches Mondstadt.

Knowing your excitement, Albedo takes a sudden day off to accompany you in your Kamera spree, his own canvas and easel under his arm to also channel his artistic energy.

In just a day you managed to take 20 pictures, about to run out of film in just a day. Everytime you snap a picture, you gravitate to where Albedo is stationed to show off what you got like a crow and its shiny rocks. He finds it very endearing, stating his honest honey-covered opinion that makes you overjoyed enough to energize you to snap another, better picture.

The Alchemist sees the appeal of the Kamera and how immediate the replication of the image is. But he still glorifies the art of painting. He may not be able to capture constantly moving subjects but he can capture any detail he wants emphasized unlike the limited rasterization of a photo like that.

He watches you from afar as you skip over to different places and objects, face blooming with wonder as you position your device to snap. He dons a smile when you pull out the photo and wait for the image to materialize, and produce a chuckle when you sprint over to him to show the product. It's like your routine you developed in just a day.

So at times when he needs it the most, he will steal borrow your Kamera to snap a quick picture of something fast moving that he needs to observe immediately or wish to sketch/paint in detail in the future. One of the photos he had hidden for himself had a picture of you in your natural photographer environment as you dash around to look for a scene to capture while you wait.

What's it for? Well he made it into a more intricate painting during his spare time, presenting it to you with the little image taped at the top right corner. It was so beautiful that when outsiders were to see it after they were granted to access his office/laboratory, they always ask for the price for it. Something he adamantly refuses with the coldest glare the Alchemist can make. The negotiations usually end there.

Whenever he was far and you couldn't follow, like Dragonspine for example (the Kamera was still in development so cold temperatures might risk both the device and the processing), you always send him a picture for his thoughts. Either by asking Sucrose, Timaeus or the Traveler if they were en route to his camp, of course.

As you send one to him daily, Albedo started to look forward to your little mail every time. They range from very beautiful sights he hasn't seen before, images of the people of Mond who looks to be greeting him, or of you and the things that would remind him of you.

He keeps a haphazardly strewn journal for it, and in his camp was a board of his favorite picks, and all images of you are tacked on it. The Traveler enjoys watching his cold teal eyes light up whenever he brings the daily image, watching the picture board grow as Albedo tacks the latest one in with obvious pride and joy.

When he comes back to Mond, he brings with him his most beautiful piece from Dragonspine. You'd know it's special because everything is painted in detail, even the most unimportant parts of it. It's his gift for your little photo exchange and you have it put up on wall somewhere in your house.

When he gets his own Kamera, it was his turn to drag you to his photography spree. A little one-sided competition happens between you two where you try to one up the quality of his pictures, sometimes successful and sometimes you don't really... understand what he's doing, as he captures the strangest images.

Albedo uses his solar isotoma when you want to use it for better angles. Very supportive, as you'd hear a snap from beneath as you position your own Kamera.

The whole of Mond muses at both of your antics; as you two would most likely do the finger frame thingy impulsively when seeing something worth the attention, the people around you would chuckle at how cute you two looked, focused on your own little world.

He always gifts you extra films or anything related to photography when he can. Since he barely has time to go out sometimes, he has many backup gifts in bulk to whip out if ever he wants to pamper you with his material affection. Albedo is hyperaware of your hyperfixation and will always bring films the moment you run out, like foresight.

You can barely understand Albedo, despite the closeness you two had, he was still an enigma in most occasions. This was one of them. He had been binging on photography lately and everytime you look through the photos he captured, it didn't really make sense. The most random pictures that you wouldn't even dare use a film on strewn here and there, sometimes the photo is even cut off, and you'd think it was a mistake until he started organizing them in a system only he knows.

When you finally gathered up the courage to ask what all of it was about for, you were given a smile as cryptic as his album.

But as he pulls your hand with an excitement you've only seen when his chemical solution produces the expected buff, you somehow deduced that today would be the day you'd find out what the heck he was up to.

"It took longer than I expected it to be," he says as he starts unlocking a room in the Knights of Favonius HQ that you've never been in before, "but the end result was worth it."

Your confusion only grows as you were met with a face full of hanging pictures, most of it you recognize. Leaning over some and looking up on the higher ones, the amount of string and the confusing way they were set up, amazes you still with the amount of effort he had been using on such a big project.

Your untrained eyes loosely guess around 1000 films used for this.

The glass double doors that makes it way to the balcony opens loudly behind you. "Come here," you turn to see Albedo's silhouette open his arms against the setting sun behind him. "You're supposed to look at it from this distance." His arms engulfs you gently when you moved over, sending a gentle squeeze before he turns you back around to see the hanging pictures.

You gasp.

The depth and the splash of colors from this distance, aided with the sun, turned the hanging collage into an expertly placed collage as it shows you the bigger picture: a mold of your face of the first sketch Albedo made when you first met each other. The angles and colors measured to the dot to capture and replicate your beauty.

You feel his lips kiss the back of your head as you stared in awe.

Impromptu Albedo fluff yey

@albaedhoe @struggljng @heisenwurst @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji

[hopeless-ro-simptic]

The Artist and The Dancer -Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab

This is my submission for @pleasantanathema ‘s 10k followers collab! Please see the masterlist here and give the rest of the creators some serious love! We’ve all worked hard on this and are so proud of @pleasantanathema for making it to 10k! 

Aged up! Edgar Degas inspired Shinso Hitoshi X Female reader

Word Count: Just under 10k! 

Warnings: NSFW, vaginal fingering, not safe sex, not super historically accurate, they fuck in a bathtub, references to loss of sight and repeated mentioned ankle injuries, angst, fluff, quirk use in a sexual manner, kind of body worshiping, praise. IDK how to tag stuff for warnings. It’s pretty tame. 

Quick background before we start: Degas is a well known impressionist painter from the 1800s, he’s super well known for paintings to do with ballerina’s, women bathing, and horse races. He also has a degenerative eye disease that I referenced as well. In this little...long? fic of mine, quirks are still a thing but heroes not so much. Shinso’s quirk is only mentioned twice, but reader has a quirk that allows her to make music from her body when she dances. This can be read as any body type/description of reader but it is mentioned that she is a ballet dancer, has some sort of hair to grab onto, and someone out there can lift her up. Also I tried to put breaks where sometime has either passed or we’ve gone back in time, and I tried to make it clear but hopefully it makes sense. We’ve got quite the backflash going on.

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Smack. Smack. Smack.

The telltale signs of a new pair of point shoes. No other sounds in the room other than those of ballet flats scuffing the floor, the bending and breaking of their fresh soles, and of tull swishing about with the movements.

Shinso truly loved these sounds, his eyes flickering from the blank canvas he set up in front of him over to the ballerina sitting in the middle of the floor, a frown tugging at your lips as you bend the new shoes in half, flexing them back and forth before smacking them harshly against the floor again.

No words were spoken as the two prepared, Shinso setting up his brushes and paint, getting comfortable on the rickety stool under him, the you finally deciding your shoes were to your satisfaction before you pulled them on, expertly tying the ribbons that you had painstakingly sewed on, before you started in on your stretches.

The light from the large windows that were set into the sloping ceilings of the attic gave the two plenty of natural lighting. Dust particles swirling in the air capturing Shinso’s attention as he shifted his lazy glance away from the stretching ballerina, picking up his paintbrush and getting to work on filling in the background of his canvas. His eyes flicking around the room and back to his canvas taking everything in at once.

There was a soft huff coming from the you that drug Shinso’s eyes over to your form, watching as you pushed yourself off on the floor before you stepped into first position, your eyes staring at the floor before shaking your head and switching to what Shinso had heard you refer to as fourth position, your eyes hovering just above his head for the briefest of moment before you dropped into your dance.

Music flowed through the room as you moved, entrancing the painter for several moments as the music lived and breathed in your movements. Dipping when you dipped, lifting as you jumped, swirling around the space like the perfect partner.  The string instruments that lived just under the your skin, filled the space with melodic tunes sounding like a live symphony was playing in the small attic that just held the two of you.

Shinso watched the dancer with awe for several moments before he forced himself to look away, picking up his paintbrush again, grabbing paint and smearing it across the canvas, letting the music flow in him and dictate his brush strokes as he captured the ballerina in front of him. He worked as you danced, his paint brush dancing along the canvas to your melody, filling in the empty spaces with a thick layer of paint, his eyes barely looking at his work as they trailed your steps across the creaking wooden floor, enchanted with your movements, with the way that your skin shimmered with sweat, how the tutu resembled flower petals reminding him of a fantasy creature that was too beautiful for the real world.

The discordant sounds of strings snapping melted into silence as you thudded to the ground with a curse had Shinso jumping from his chair, knocking his paint over onto the floor in the process. You were bent over yourself in the fetal position, clutching your ankle that was already swelling, the skin bruising as the moments ticked by. Shinso crouched down by you, hands hovering above you before they finally rested on your shaking shoulders, the sight of tears dripping onto the wood underneath you had his stomach clenching.

“Are you okay?” He had barely whispered the words when you snapped your head up, slapping his hand away, anger clear on your face as you glared at him a hiss on your tongue.

“I’m fine, don’t touch me.”

He sat back on his haunches, watching with concern as you struggled to get your breathing under control, sitting up, adjusting the ribbons on your shoes before you forced yourself into a shaking standing position, hesitating to put weight on your foot as you looked down at him.

“Well are you just going to sit there? Go back to painting.” Your eyes were harsh, your words like a whip that stung Shinso’s cheek as he looked up at you from his position, a frown settling on his lips as he pushed himself off of the floor backing away from you, his eyes shifting down to your swelling ankle. Annoyance at you burning on his tongue. Still he understood how important this was to you. How dancing was the reason you breathed, just as his art was his.

He couldn’t ignore the thoughts in his brain though as you stepped back into your dance, music swirling around you for several seconds, the notes sounding shaky and pitched only for you to drop back down to your hands and knees again when your foot couldn’t support your weight, the music ending harshly.

Shinso hesitated by your side, hovering as he watched you slam your fists into the wooded floor below, a scream of frustration echoing through the small attic as you crumpled onto yourself, shaking with the force of the sobs leaving your lips, the movement activating a soft hum from your quirk. It wasn’t until your fists grew bloody and you sat up with fevor, reaching for your ankle and yanking at the laces angrily did he finally step in.

“Stop… stop… Y/n I said stop!” Your eyes glazed over momentarily, your movements halting as the tired artist activated his own quirk, crouching in front of you, his grips on your wrist tight as he regarded you tensely before releasing his quirk, your shoulders slumping slightly.

“Y/n…”

“Leave me alone, please, it’s not worth it.” Tears were streaming down your face as you tried to quiet your sobs but failed, hiding your face into your palms ignoring the sting from where your knuckles were split.

“What are you talking about… y/n –“ His words were cut off as she weakly lashed out at him again with her own, her voice cracking as she cried.

“This is my third repeated injury in a year. I can’t dance anymore Hitoshi, I can’t – They replace dancer’s for less. You should just find a different muse, there are plenty of dancers at the theater, they already replaced my role for-.”

His grip on your wrists grew tighter as he pulled them away from your face, peering into your eyes as he did so, frustration so clear in his eyes as he regarded you.

“My muse, what are you even talking about? I will never replace you. You think I paint you because you are a dancer? I paint dancers because they remind me of you. Just the same as the horse races I paint because you love them so much.”

“But I can’t- my stupid ankle- I’m usele-“

“You are not useless! So what things aren’t turning out exactly how you want it to! You can still do this! You just need to-“

“To what? To what Hitoshi! What am I supposed to do if I can’t dance! What am I supposed to live for!”

“Me! Live for me.”  His own voice cracked in frustration, and you could see his eyes becoming glossy as they shifted around your face.

“Hitoshi… I-“

His lips were on yours before you could finish your statement, a squeak of surprise leaving your lips as you tensed in his grasp, only for him to pull away before you could react. His grip on your wrists loosening until he dropped them altogether, eyes focused on a chip in the wooden floor between the two of you as you gaped at him, your mind screaming at you to say something, to do something, anything to change the look of torture on his tired face.

“I’ll draw you a bath.”

And he was gone. It wasn’t for several seconds that you finally noticed the tape he had placed into your lap for your ankle, but the pain in your ankle had long been forgotten your eyes latched onto the stairs descending into the rest of the artist’s house.

--

Your fingers wandered along the clouds of bubbles, your mind lost in thought as you sunk lower into the warm water, your injured ankle resting gingerly on a towel on the edge of the bath. By the time that you had finished wrapping your ankle and had made your way down the stairs to the bathroom, Hitoshi was already gone, a note hastily scrawled out and left on the chair next to the bath.  

He had gone out.

Short, simple, practically no explanation for his disappearance.

It was his brevity that had you clenching your teeth over and over, your mood shifting from frustration to confusion to something else that you tried to ignore as you thought back to how this all started.

--

You had been working with the artist for almost two and a half years now, after having met him at the theatre. You had been in the corps at the time but was quickly becoming a favorite of the director, Aizawa Shota. To the point that when he had allowed the young artist to watch a rehearsal at his request, to study the movement of the human body as he had explained, he had pulled you aside and introduced you to the purple haired man as one of the options for the Prima for the next show. You had been elated at the time, noting the slight up tweak of the director’s usual frown as you tried to keep your own smile from splitting your cheeks open.

Aizawa had suggested that you work through your practice routine, allowing Shinsou to watch and sketch away on the sidelines, as long as he didn’t distract you. You prided yourself on your ability to focus and block out everything when you worked, but you couldn’t help but notice the way the young artists face shifted into amazement when music started to flow out from your movements, no instrument in sight. The way that he had all but dropped his pencil out of his hand, his eyes glued to your every movement, his previously bored face suddenly filled with complete enchantment.  

At some point in your practice, he had finally picked his pencil up and ended up with over half of his sketchbook filled with renderings of you. You had asked to see his drawings when you had finished, and this time the artist got to see the way your own face lit up at seeing his work, constantly drifting back to one sketch in particular where you had been suspended in mid-jump, the way he had captured you made it truly look like you were flying.

It wasn’t until you had gotten back home late that night and unpacked your bag that you noticed at some point before the artist had left, he had slipped the drawing in your bag with a note attached stating that he would love nothing more than to capture more of his ‘muse’.  

He had visited the theatre almost every day after that, Aizawa allowing the artist to watch from the sidelines, some form of art medium in his hands at all times, as long as he didn’t interrupt.

Several of the other performers at first had flocked to him with high pitched giggling as they asked him to paint them, or offering to preform for him themselves, but the artist practically ignored them all, acting like they weren’t there until Aizawa would step in and the girls would scatter in fear of being reprimanded or worse. At first you had wondered if Aizawa would get annoyed and ask the artist to leave, clearly it was affecting the others, but then you wondered if the dark haired director had a soft spot for the young man, spending a lot of his time around the him, and even cracking a few smiles at things that he had said. You swore that hell had froze over when you had heard the deep chuckle that was Aizawa Shota’s laugh for the first time.

When you had found out that the artist was the director’s nephew, you weren’t at all surprised, the similarities too obvious to not notice.

Days had turned into months, and it was no longer shocking to see dark lavender hair waiting in the wings, the others growing used to him as well and treating him as practically nothing more than a stage prop. The two of you didn’t speak much, if at all some days, conversations for the most part only pertaining to mutual admiration for each other’s work. But somedays the conversations would linger longer, questions of other interests such as food, music, and even sports coming in to play. That was when you had told him of your love of horse racing, how your aunt had owned horses that were famous for their champion bloodlines and how you had always enjoyed dressing up to go to the races, flouncy hat included.

Hitoshi had told you that he had never been to the races, and while you had been fake appalled and teased him mercilessly the rest of the day about it, you had assumed that would have been the end of the conversation, that much like you the artist would completely remove it from his mind and move on with the rest of his life outside of work. It wasn’t until the following Monday when he had waved you over to show you his sketchbook filled with drawings of horses and jockeys that you realized the artist in front of you had actually been interested in what you had been saying. The feelings stirring in your stomach at that realization had been… kind of nice.

Not even a week after that was the first incident. True to his word Aizawa had chosen you and one other girl to work on the Prima roll for the next ballet they would be preforming. You both would be learning the part, and he would decide along the way which one of you he wanted to go with, the other would be placed back into the corps. You had barely been on time that day, skirting into the wings of the stage and dropping down into hasty stretches, Aizawa shooting you an icy glare at interrupting his instructions he had been giving the group, that had melted a little at the end as you shoot him an apologetic one back. You never were late, and he could show mercy… occasionally.

Minutes later you were on the stage, running through the first number, allowing the orchestra to take their time setting up as your quirk worked it’s magic, the music flowing through the air as you ran through the movements with practiced ease. You knew your steps like the back of your hand, knew the timing of the music like it was your own heartbeat.  You knew that the next step, your partner would be stepping up behind you, lifting you up into a jump and gracefully bringing you back to the ground to move into the next series of foot work that ended in a pirouette.

But the pirouette never came, instead the sound of strings snapping, and shrill notes filled the air covering the sound of a body hitting the ground. The series of gasps and whispers sounded quiet in your ear compared to the sound of your own heartbeat, matching the throbbing in your foot. You could feel the tears springing to your eyes, refusing to open them even as shadows fell onto your form. It wasn’t until you felt a warm hand grip your shoulder gently coaxing you over did you finally force yourself to look up into the dark eyes of the director, his brow furrowed as he examined your foot along with one of the trainers that helped take care of the dancers.  You could barely hold back a scream as they guided you to move your foot, your vision blurring as the two shared a look between them that only made your insides churn.

Before they had wheeled you off to the local doctor, you had caught sight of lavender hair, a grim look on his face, his eyes never leaving yours.

You were beside yourself, wallowing really. A sprained ankle. A sprained ankle had you locked up in your small apartment, staring off into space trying to think of anything to distract yourself from what you really wanted. Aizawa refused to let you even step foot inside the theater until you were signed off on by a doctor. Insisting that you stay home and rest. Heal up. Get strong again so that you could come back and work. Because he expected your recovery to be swift. That’s what he told you. That he expected this to just be a minor setback and that you would be back in time to still vie for that Prima position you so badly wanted. That if you really wanted to be Prima, you needed to take care of yourself now so you could work later.

But you had seen the looks, heard the whispers of the others. A sprained ankle… for most would be a temporary setback, but for a ballerina it could be career ending.

Still, you forced yourself to look on the bright side, to focus on Aizawa’s words, to force yourself to remain in bed with the ice pack on your ankle even as you felt so antsy that sitting still one more minute might actually drive you mad. You can’t say you weren’t beyond excited when there was the softest knock at your door that had you immediately perking up.

“Come in, it’s unlocked.” You had had a few friends from the theater and otherwise come to visit, and while it was frustrating to listen over and over about how they wanted you to get better soon, it was still nice to have some sort of company.

But you hadn’t expected that a mop of lavender hair would peak its way through the door, a sheepish look on his face as he took in the room, eyes settling nervously on you.

“Shinsou… I wasn’t expecting you to visit.”

He stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind him slightly probably as to affirm to your oh so nosey roommate that nothing scandalous was happening. He pulled a set of flowers from behind his back, clearing his throat as he looked around the room for a place to set them.

“I uh… brought you these, but I see that I wasn’t very creative with my get well present.” You glanced around the room, taking in the dozens of bouquets that were scattered across every possible surface. He’s not wrong. Flowers weren’t exactly the most unique, but still you felt something stir inside at the thought of the moody artist picking flowers out at a stand. You didn’t fight the smile spilling onto your lips as you regarded him.

“It’s okay, I’ll forgive you for your lack of creativity today.”

He chuckled softly at that, looking at the floor and studying the wood grain, his eyes not meeting yours a smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank goodness for that, I think I’d be beside myself if my muse didn’t forgive me.”

His muse. The thought repeated like a mantra in your head for the next several weeks, somehow giving more reassurance and comfort than anything anyone else had told you over the course of your healing process. The artist had come by a couple more times since then, bringing sketchbooks filled with drawings and paintings of racehorses and a couple of the ballerinas at the theatre, asking questions about different poses that he had captured the ballerina’s in, wanting to know the technical terms and just talking to you about random daily life.

Before you knew it you were getting signed off by the doctor, a smile on their face as they let you know that you healed up wonderfully but still to take it slow and make sure to stretch your ankles properly before and after dancing.

Then everything went back to almost normal. You were back at the theater six days a week, though they had you slowly getting back used to the dance routines, refusing to let you do any jumps for the first several weeks until you were cleared again by the doctor at your follow up. One thing was different though.

Shinso came to the theatre less and less, and when he did he was growing more and more moody and frustrated. More noticeable still was the way that his art started to change, the way that he was less focused on making a clear and crisp rendition, the subjects growing blurrier and with abstract brushstrokes. Colors no longer having defined areas and being used to blend across the entire canvas in ways that you hadn’t seen before.

The young artist was also growing in popularity as well, though that didn’t mean he was any more friendly than before. In fact, you had seen him turn down many a parties and dates with a level of tact that was more than lacking.

At first it was just towards other people, the few straggler dancers that still vied for his attention, people that would get in his way when he was walking, random people that annoyed him at the racetracks when he would join you to watch the horses because they were breathing wrong.

Then he started to grow colder towards you. At first you thought he was just having a bad day, trying not to let it affect your own mood. But one bad day turned into two, then three, and the next thing you knew, you barely could be around the hostile artist without feeling like you were going to blow up yourself.

It was a particularly bad day. You had been avoiding Shinso all day, refusing to talk to him and trying desperately to focus on your role for the upcoming decision date that Aizawa had set. But with how loud the artist was growing with his yelling it was hard for even you to ignore. Even more so when someone brought to your attention that the argument was with none other than director Aizawa himself.

Still, you forced yourself to dance harder, to make your music louder and to block out the artists shouts. You blocked everything out as you dipped down, the music following the flow of movement from your body as you moved into a succession of spins and leaps. You were halfway through your routine, your solo, feeling good about the way your movements flowed across the stage, the music in the air sounding light and airy. Like you were flying.

But with the sudden slam of a door flying open and into the wall, the shouting of the young artist grew significantly louder breaking into your bubble of solitude making you fall out of your third spin, silence growing heavy as your music died down and you turned to watch the angry man storm through the theater space.

“Hitoshi, come back here and let’s talk about this rationally.”

“No, I’m done! I’m done! It’s useless! I’m useless! Everything in this world is fucking useless!”

“Hitoshi-“

“No, fuck you! Fuck you, fuck this place, and fuck -… fuck this.”

You watched in a mixture of shock and dread as Shinsou tore apart his sketch book, flinging pages into the air, yanking his portable paint pallet out of his bag and snapping it in half tossing it across the room and into the wall, paint splattering everywhere as pieces of the pallet shattered off in different directions. Shinsou tore his bag off of his body, the strap snapping as he did so, throwing it to the floor before turning and leaving the theater with a slam of the door.

The silence that followed was uneasy. Only broken by the whispers of the crew members and some of the dancers. You turned to Aizawa who was running his fingers through his hair, a look of distraught on his face as he kneeled down and started to pick up some of the scattered drawings littering the floor, his voice rough as he spoke.

“Rehearsal is over for today. Go home and get rest. I want everyone back here early tomorrow.”

You looked around watching as everyone collected their things, chattering quietly and sending glances back to the director and you as they left the theater. You felt frozen in your spot until you noticed a drawing near your feet, a drawing of you.

Bending down to pick it up you examined it, a frown pulling at your lips as you realized it was a quick sketch of you. Messy, compared to his usual work, but it mostly focused on your face. If you didn’t look for specific details it looked like you were laughing, holding onto what looked like it could have been a hat that you wore to the racetrack weeks ago, the wind blowing your hair in your face. The only thing that was actually clear in the drawing was your smile, the attention to detail in the way your lips quirked up had you pausing. It was different than the rest of the drawing, all focus being pulled to the one point, whereas the rest seemed almost blurry, vague.  

“He drew it from memory.” Aizawa’s voice had you jumping, looking up at the director, a blush creeping onto your face at your reaction. You had completely forgotten he was there, but the director didn’t seem to notice as he lightly tapped the drawing in your hands, his face pulled into a sad frown as he regarded it.

“Is that why it’s so blurry?” You took a deep breath, handing the director the drawing to allow you to start your cool down stretches. He didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to lock the theater up, nor did it seem he minded you staying for company. The last thing you wanted to do was cause another injury because you weren’t taking care of yourself after practicing so hard.

But the director just gave you an odd look, a crease appearing between his brows.

“… would you mind doing me a favor when you leave here? I have some things to take care of here and I’m afraid it will be much too late by the time I’m done.”

“Yea of course,” You tilted your head giving him a look of confusion.

An hour later you were standing here, staring up at the house in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel the anxiety creeping in as looked back down at the note in your hand, shifting the full and heavy bag on your shoulder. While you didn’t mind helping out the director, this wasn’t exactly something you wanted to deal with right now. But you agreed. So with a heavy sigh you rapped your knuckle against the wooden door three times, waiting, silently chewing your lip for a response.

“I told you to fuck off- oh… y/n?” He was squinting at you for a moment his frown turning to look of confusion, peaking his head out of his door and looking around the street for something.

“Aizawa asked me to bring this back to you.” You stood tall, pulling on the inner ballerina and forcing a face of bravery, ignoring the fluttering feeling settling in your stomach. This was the first time at his place, and the sight in front of you had you fighting to keep the blush out of your cheeks, a fight you were sure you were failing.

He looked absolutely wrecked. His coat was long gone. His usually crisp button up was opened, hanging loosely off of his frame, untucked from his pants. His belt already undone, shoes missing. Not to mention his regular ruffled and messed up hair was sticking out at odd angels and looked more bedhead like than normal.

Sure, you had seen the tired artist show up at the theater and even your home when you were out with the injury a few times looking a little sleepy and rumpled, the sight always making it hard to keep your eyes off of him, but this… this was a whole other level. He was gorgeous.

His eyes hovered on your face for a moment, only making your cheeks redder, but if he noticed he didn’t say anything, his usual snarking teasing gone as his eyes shifted down to the large bag on your shoulder his expression turning sour as he reached out and took it from you.

“You really didn’t have to… should have just thrown it all away. Or use it for kindling.”

“Don’t say that.” Your voice came out harsher than you expected, and you immediately caught yourself, biting you lip and hoping you didn’t piss the moody artist off even more. You did not want to argue right now.

“It’s true. It’s all junk-“ He tossed the satchel onto something inside the house, maybe a table or a chair, or probably just the floor given his attitude.

“I think it all looks beautiful.” You stated like it was a matter of fact.

His eyes looked up back towards your own, shifting around your face several times as he spoke his next question, squinting ever so slightly like he was having a hard time deciding what to focus on. You couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.

“Do… do you want to come in? I want to show you something… I know you don’t have a chaperon-“ He brought his hand up to scratch at his neck, looking back into his house as he spoke.

“Yes!” You flinched at how quickly and desperate that sounded, but the words were already out, and it was worth it when the artist in front of you let out a soft chuckle, giving you a slightly bewildered look before stepping back and allowing you in.

If your mother knew what you were doing right now, going into a man’s house, a single man’s house without a chaperone, she’d faint right there from shame. But you choose not to think about that as you stepped in, the door closing softly behind you as Shinso guided you through his home.

His home that was littered with art. Every surface, every wall, everything was covered with canvases and sketch paper. The floor even had some strewn along it, like it fell off the over piled surfaces and he never bothered to pick it up. Some of it you even recognized from seeing it before. Drawings upon drawings of horses and ballerina’s and even several portraits all along the place, some barely started, some halfway done, and so many that looked completed.

You saw oil paintings, gouache, charcoal sketches, even some wax figures. There were pieces of pastel chalks all over the place, paint brushes in water jars and coffee mugs, sketch pads everywhere you looked. What you easily counted as at least four different easels.

You felt like you were in heaven, your eyes skirting all throughout the room, taking in anything and everything. You felt like you were stepping into the mind of the artist in front of you, and you couldn’t help but gape in awe. But the artist didn’t stop, gesturing you to follow him as he walked back through his hallway, skipping straight past a set of stairs that led to what you assumed was the attic with the large windows that you could see from outside. Instead, he walked directly back to the house, opening a door, and letting you step inside. Leaning against the door frame, he nodded to the easel in the center of the room.

You felt giddy, a smile on your face as you skipped over to the easel, beyond excited to see what the artist was working on. You looked back towards him once more, to which he only solemnly nodded in response, making your expression drop slightly.

“Go ahead, I want your opinion on it.”

You just wanted him to smile and were tempted on making a snarky comment that would get at least some sort of response from him, even it didn’t last for more than a second. Instead, you turned back to the easel, gingerly lifting up the sheet that was covering it until it unearthed what was underneath, the sheet slipping to the floor as you stepped back, taking in what was in front of you.

You were silent for a long moment as you took it in. It was clearly a painting of a ballerina, as so much of his work was, but this painting, was by far the most abstract that you had seen. The colors all blended together, none of the shapes having a specific outline, the ballerina not even having a face, just blotches of color where you assumed the shadows somewhat outlined vague features.

But for some reason, it was the most beautiful work that you think you had seen. The way that everything blended seemed to invoke a feeling in your that you just couldn’t pinpoint to one emotion.

The ballerina could have been anyone, and the lack of facial expression and the fact that the only thing that was clear was that she was wearing a tutu reminded you of how it felt to be invisible back in your days in the corps. How you were just another background dancer. Mediocre in the sea of talent. So easy to blend into the background and be forgotten.  

But looking further into it she was gorgeous. Her pose was clearly one of a graceful jump, frozen in time, she looked like she was flying, the tutu making her look like a bird, the way her limbs extended and pointed just perfectly. She looked ethereal, like she wasn’t of this earth. She looked… free.

“Well damn. I didn’t think it was that bad.”

You startled, looking over to the painter who had the weakest of teasing smiles on his lips, like he was trying to make a joke but wasn’t sure if it was actually a joke or not. That’s when you felt the cool air stinging your cheeks where your tears had wet them. Reaching up you brushed your tears away a soft laugh leaving your lips as you looked back to the painting in front of you sniffling softly.

“It’s… I don’t even have a word for it.”

“Ugly, horrific, putrid? Maybe vomit inducing? That’s the same isn’t it?” You shook your head, pushing the artist’s shoulder softly as he came to stand by you, crossing his arms, as he regarded the painting seeming to search for a word to properly describe.

“Magnificent.”

His eyes shifted back to yours, his lifts quirking up into a smile slightly as his eyes shifted around your face again, trying to memorize your features. You smiled back, his eyes focusing on your lips for a moment before his own frowned and he let out a sigh looking back towards the picture and taking a step towards it as if to see it better.

“I’m going blind.”

You froze for a moment, staring at him in utter confusion, your eyebrows pulling together as you listened to him speak.

“That’s why everything is so… blurry, unpronounced. I’ve always painted what I saw, and this... this is what I see.” He gestured to the painting, your eyes flipping back to it and looking at it in a new light. Your brain working a mile a minute as things started to click in your mind.

The clumsiness. The way his art was growing more and more abstract, less defined, turning to simple brushstrokes of color. The way his eyes never seemed to focus very long on any one thing, his squinting.

His hostility.

“I don’t want to give up being an artist… I love it more than anything. It’s my passion, but I don’t see how I can keep going if I can’t even find my paintbrush half of the time.”

“Shinsou…”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m not giving it.”

He turned and regarded you, looking hesitant, guarded. All you wanted to do was give him a hug, but from one artist to another… you remembered what you felt like when you hurt your ankle. The fear of not being able to do what you love. He needed someone to push him, to show him he still can. Not someone to coddle him.

“This…” you gestured to the painting, stepping towards it and tilting your head as you looked at it. “This is amazing Shinsou… this isn’t just a picture. It’s not just a rendition of life. This shows emotion. It impacts someone. This …This is art. If someone doesn’t like this, if someone tells you this is trash, or it isn’t art or you can’t be an artist. They are a fool. A complete idiot. And they are just jealous because even with full sight they can’t make something half of amazing.”

Turning back to the purple haired artist, you expected an argument, a protest, some lame excuse as to why he thought it was awful. But instead, he just looked at you for a long moment, before turning back to the picture, hiding a smile as he hummed a soft response, his voice cracking as he did. “Whatever you say my muse.”

From that day on, Shinso was back at the theater, back to painting you, a little less moody than usual. After your second injury, days after Aizawa had given you the role of Prima, which he had to give to the other dancer, Shinso had come to visit you daily, helping you around as you healed. Some days he would paint, sometimes he would bring a hoard of pencils, once he even brought just paper, taking time to fold up so many little figurines for your bedside table. After you had healed enough to start lightly dancing again, the two of you had decided to work out of his home. Allowing you the freedom to dance, without disrupting the theater, and allowing him to create art as he watched.

-Present Day-

The creak of the door had you glancing up from your bath that was starting to run cold, the bubbles still piled high more than covering your body from the artist who hovered at the door, ever the gentlemen and averting his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, staring at the floor with his hands in his pocket. The two of you had grown very comfortable with each other, to the point that outsiders would be appalled, but he was your closest friend. You were his muse.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You noted the blush that was creeping up on his cheeks as he kept his eyes on the floor, your silence making him uncomfortable as he cleared his throat and started to speak again.

“I can call for a carriage to take you home, but you really need to get that ankle delt with first, at least let me wrap it for you.”

“Hitoshi…”

You watched him tense up, like he was waiting to get slapped even though you were across the room. The sight had your gut clenching, not in a good way.

“Come here.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wavering but focusing on your own in bewilderment as he choked on his own spit, reaching up and straightening his vest. But you just nodded your head, affirming your words, a slight smile on your lips as he hesitantly stepped towards you until he was hovering at the edge of the bathtub, his eyes focusing on your face, his stance relaxing as he recognized you weren’t mad at him.

You lifted up your hand, your smile widening as he took it in his own, rubbing his thumb across your soft skin, seeming mesmerized by the way your fingers curled around his own.

“I wish…” He started, his eye brows pulling together for a moment as he paused in thought, only for him to start up again. “I wish I could see you dance for the rest of my life.”

“Hitoshi…”

“I want to be with you y/n… I want to hear your music, and make you smile, and I want to draw you until I have no more paper, and even then I’d paint you on the walls. I want to be able to hold you and tell you how amazing you are and to get to see you live your dreams and fly like the angel you are. I want to be able to touch your face whenever and to memorize it that way because I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to see your eyes or those lips. God those lips. I want the first thing I do every morning and the last thing I do every night to be kissing those lips.

I want to go to the racetracks with you every weekend and enjoy how relaxed and carefree you are, and to hear your little squeal when the gun goes off for the race to start. I want to be able to go get breakfast with you from that little café three blocks down and sit in the park and listen to the birds. I want to take late night strolls with you and feel the warm summer nights. I want to dance with you under the moonlight while we make our own music.  I want to stay up all night just listening to you talk about literally anything, and I want to see what you look like when you first wake up in the morning when I bring you breakfast in bed.

You’re not just my muse for my art… y/n you are the reason I continue to live and breathe. You are the reason I can still paint. You are the reason I get up in the morning and frankly the only reason I get dressed enough to go out in public, just so I can see you. You are my muse in all senses of the word.

Y/n… I.. I love you.”

You were stunned into silence, eyes wide as you regarded the man in front of you. This moody artist. Who constantly looked tired, and whose sense of humor was dark and sometimes a little rude and self-deprecating. Who you were pretty sure could draw you with his eyes closed because he had already done so thousands of times. Who stood by you even though you weren’t able to do the one thing you were good at anymore.

You barely even registered what you were doing yourself, but one moment you were looking up at the young artist in front of you, your fingers wrapped in his, and the next you were yanking his hand, pulling him into the over-sized bathtub on top of you, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you pressed your lips to his.

The sound of water sloshing about was drowned out by the sound of protest that came from Hitoshi at getting wet, which was quickly replaced with a sigh of satisfaction as he eagerly answered your kiss with his own, his hands resting on either side of the bathtub to help him keep himself up.

You separated your lips from his, a cheeky smile on his face as he moved to pepper kisses across your cheeks as you giggled trying to get a word out.

“I love you too”

“Yea? A grumpy artist? That never sleeps. And half the time doesn’t remember to eat. You sure?” He moved his hand to cup your cheek, which you leaned into rolling your eyes, before he leaned in and kissed your nose, moving back down to your mouth, pressing himself further against you.

You let out a content sigh in response, arching up into him, bring attention to the both of you that you were very much naked. You felt your cheeks heat up as his gaze flickered down towards your chest, leaning back slightly to get a better view as he let out a hum in thought.

“We should get you dried… dressed… should really deal with your ankle.” Even as he spoke the words, his hands slid under the water, hesitating on a little before they softly caressed your sides, one moving to grip onto your hip, the other resting on your rib cage, thumb dangerously close to brushing your breast. You watched as the man above you chewed on his lip, seeming distracted by the sight in front of him. You wondered what it looked like to him. You wished he could see it all clearly.

“Toshi… come here.��

“Hmm? I’m right here.” His focus never wavered from taking in your body, his own eyes seeming to glaze over as he kneaded circles into your flesh with his thumbs, his tongue running across his lips only to be replaced once again by his teeth.

“Toshi..” Your whispered out the nickname, your fingers lacing behind his head tugging him closer to you until he relented, pressing his lips against yours once, then twice, then groaning as he went back again for a third time, his grip tightening on your hip as his other hand reached up and tangled into your hair, water sloshing out onto the ground from his movements.

His lips were soft and plush against your own, moving a little clumsily at first but quickly getting his footing as he pressed further against you, angling his head just right, slipping his tongue against your lips asking sweetly for more.  You momentarily forgot how to breathe as you let him have access, a moan vibrating your throat as he swirled his tongue against your own, coaxing you back into his own mouth before sucking on your tongue lightly groaning in response to you.

You gasped, feeling his hips roll against your own, his wet clothes pressing against you just right, making your skin sensitive to the point that you were arching into him. Feeling your pebbled nipples rub against the scratchy fabric of his vest, the seem in his pants sliding along the space just above your clit, making you wonder what it would feel like if it just moved down slightly.  Separating your lips, he shifted so that his lips were against your ear, softly speaking to you, his voice growing husky as you felt him pressing against you, the bulge in his pants bigger than you expected for the lean artist.

“Y/n.” He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear, his voice dropping even lower as his fingers at your hip shifted towards your thigh, moving closer and closer to the apex. “Let me take care of you, my muse. Let me make you feel as beautiful as you are to me.”

You nodded, barely containing a whimper as you felt his tongue run along the edge of your ear, his breathe hot against your skin, his fingers delving between your thighs, coaxing them apart so he could shift to be between them. His fingers splayed across you, sliding between, and separating your folds, his middle finger making a languid circle against your already swollen nub. His voice strained like he was trying to hold back groans of satisfaction as he breathed his words into your neck, pressing hot open mouth kisses to your skin.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the day I met you.” He buried his face against your skin, letting out a groan as you whimpered softly in response to his fingers slow and purposeful touches, fingers sliding easily across your bundle of nerves, circling and circling, from the water surrounding the two of you. “I’ve wanted to worship you until you realized just how amazing you were.”

Your own hands drug across his back, coming around to pull the buttons of his vest apart with trembling fingers as you pressed yourself up into his touch, trying to remove all boundaries between the two of you. He slowly sped his ministrations up until he found the perfect speed that had you mewling at his touch, grinding up into his fingers to get more pressure and relief, whispers begging for more leaving your lips like they were your mantras.

He focused all of his attention on your clit, lightly tugging it with the pads of his rough fingers from years of using them to blend out chalk and charcoal. His lips moving from your neck to your ear only to whisper soft encouragements and praises into you.

Finally, after what felt like too long you yanked his vest off of his shoulders, it pooling in the water, trapped on his arm, and quickly made short work of his button up shirt, cursing the fashions of the day and whishing there was an easier and quicker way to undress. As soon as you had access to his chest your lips were on his skin, pressing kisses, your teeth snagging against his neck pulling soft moans from the man on top of you as you sucked on the skin leaving marks.

“Please Toshi more. More.”

“Fuck darling..” his fingers left you for the briefest of moments, making you cry out in frustration only for his to sit up and tear off his shirt and vest, tossing them into a wet heap of fabric on the floor, the sound sounding just as obscene as the noises leaving your lips. His hands shifting to his pants, quickly untying them and pulling them off only for them to follow the rest of his clothes allowing you to see him in his full glory for the first time. He didn’t give you time to appreciate him though, his lips sealing against your own, forcing your eyes closed as his fingers returned to their new home between your legs, his hips rolling down against you making you moan with the heat that was coming from his dick rubbing against your thigh.

You nipped at his tongue, drawing more noises of pleasure from him as he coaxed you up and up, rubbing his length against you sensually as he shifted closer and closer to your cunt. You were both panting at this point, dizzy from the lack of air, but not caring as you pressed closer to each other, long forgotten the water splashing out onto the floor making a mess of his bathroom.

Your fingers dragged down his chest, nails leaving marks that he leaned into as you searched for your own toy to play with, finding it took both hands to hold in your grasp. You didn’t have to do much work, his thrusts doing practically everything as you guided his tip up and down your slit, surprised to feel the distinct difference of your own wetness compared to the water, his own fingers in the way occasionally as he strummed you closer to the finish line.

You couldn’t help the wanton moan that echoed through the house when his tip dipped inside of you and pulled back out, your eyes rolling back as you lifted your hips up to his own, forcing him further inside until he was practically at the hilt, your hands moving to grip his ass and pull him closer to you, legs wrapping around him and trapping him in place, his hips thrusting into you as he cursed against your lips.

“Fuck. So god damned perfect darling.”

He didn’t move for a moment, instead focusing on making sure you were comfortable in your positions, his lips devouring your own, a smile on his face as he whispered soft praises between kisses.  But that moment quickly passed, you being the first to roll up against him, dragging a curse out from his lips, him dipping his face to press it into your cleavage, a groan leaving his lips as you ground up into him with a whine.

Lips attached to your nipple, one hand still swirling your sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to cry out, the other pinching the other nipple between two fingers, rolling it in perfect unison as he suckled on you, tongue laving back and forth, the heat of his mouth making you want to scream.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, dragging himself almost all of the way out of you, your walls clenching as he did to get him to stay, only for him to press back into you, bottoming out and pressing against your cervix with each thrust.

With one more flick of his finger against your clit you were gone. His name leaving your lips in short breathy cries as you arched up into him the pressure feeling too much as you clenched down around him, your grip tightening and trying to hold him in place. But he didn’t stop there, his fingers continuing to slowly circle your clit, helping you ride out the wave as he pistons in and out of you, your own name being said as a prayer.

He released your nipples as you came down, shifting his lips back up and slowly moving up your neck, sucking and biting on the skin as his voice reverberated around the room.

“You are so fucking gorgeous. So perfect. My beautiful muse.”

You could feel him starting to speed up his thrusts, making more and more cries leave your lips as you tried to keep up with him, already feeling pressure building up again.

“Toshi.. please, please… Toshii… pleaseee.”

“I know darling, I know. Fuck you feel so good. I’m not gon-“

His voice was cut off with a groan as he pressed his forehead to yours, fucking into you relentlessly as your walls fluttered around him. A hot huff, before he groaned out your name again pressing into you, his thrusts growing sloppy.

“Toshi please, I wanna cum again. Please.”

“Fuck- nng… Fuck. C- haa-“ He couldn’t finish his words, plowing into you, feeling the waves of what little remained of the water crashing against him, perfectly level with your clit making you arch back up into him with a whine as you tried to find a second release.

“Fuck. Darling… Kitten… cum for me.”

He buried his face into your chest, a long-drawn-out moan leaving his lips, sounding broken as you felt hot spurts of liquid squirting into you, your mind exploding with pleasure as his quirk snapped on, making you scream out his name, feeling aftershocks hit you wave after wave as you collapsed against the back of the tub, panting harshly, your mind hazy as you came down.

The two of you sat there for several moments, gasping for air, your legs shaking form tensing up for so long. After a moment or two, Shinso glanced up at you, his cheeks red, hair sticking to his face from sweat, an exhausted but content expression on his face.

“Are you okay my muse?”

You let out a snort, and a short nod in response, leaning into his hand as it cupped your cheek, him leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips a smile on his.

“You’re magnificent.”

“Hmm.. I bet you think so.” You leaned back, looking at the ceiling with a smirk feeling your body relax only for your attention to be brough to your still swollen ankle as you shifted it, pain shooting through your leg.

At seeing your face, Hitoshi sighed softly, shaking his head before pressing another kiss to your lips, pushing himself up and into a standing position, leaning over to grab a towel, his still impressive length swinging practically in your face making you blush.

“We really need to take care of your ankle. I’m serious this tim- Oh fuck kitten..” his fingers gripped your hair, his head dropping back as he closed his eyes, his dick twictching back to life as you ran your tongue along it slowly, a snarky laugh leaving your lips at his reaction.

“Kitten?” You tilted you head back, looking up at him a question in your eyes, his face turning scarlet as he looked away from you biting his lip, hiding a sheepish smile.

“Please let me take care of you… stop distracting me.”

You huffed a pretend sigh of annoyance, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Fine, if you must. But I’m continuing that later.”

He rolled his own eyes at you, stepping out of the bath and drying off before moving to also grab you a towel, helping you out of the bath as well, taking extra care to dry off every inch of you, making you lean your weight against him and not on your foot before he scooped you up, shuffling off towards his bedroom.

“I don’t want your injury to get worse. You still want to dance don’t you?”

You hummed a soft acknowledgement, wistfulness lacing your tone as he slowly placed you into his bed, helping set up his pillows to accommodate your leg better. He would get the two of you settled then call for the local doctor to come look at you. He just hoped you didn’t want to go home soon.

“As must as you still want to paint.”

His smile was filled with understanding as he brought over one of his shirts to you, helping you into it but leaving your bottom bare, covering it with a blanket before dressing himself only to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes latched onto yours with a look of adoration you had seen so many times and mistaken for something platonic.

“You know, I’d love to paint you bathing sometime. You truly look like a goddess then.”

You blushed at his words, shaking your head laughing, a fluttering feeling in your stomach as you realized just how much things had changed so quickly.

“The scandal Mr Shinso! What would the papers say about us? My honor was already sullied months ago just by being here, but now you want physical proof that you’ve seen me without my knickers?“ You were joking for the most part. You didn’t care about honor. Scandals. Most girls would be ashamed to be rumored to have even kissed a man that wasn’t their husband in this time, but you loved him, and you knew nothing wrong could come of that.  Who cared what anyone else thought?

“Then marry me.”

You froze, staring at the artist who looked more sure of himself than any other time you had seen him. His face completely serious, shoulders relaxed, as he gazed at you like you were his entire reason for living.

Your lips split into a smile without you even realizing, your cheeks almost hurting from how wide it was as you looked down at your lap for a brief moment before meeting his eyes once again when his hand reached out to take yours, thumb rubbing soft circles.

“Yes. Yes I’ll marry you.”

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[dawsons-justice]

He Promised, You Trusted.

Part Two to “I Promise, You Trust”

A/N: Reader is between 14-17, so this is a Father Figure!Antonio x Reader. No romance, 100% platonic. 

TW: Nothing horribly graphic, some mild angst, but mostly just to lead up to the fluff

Masterlist

It sure was cold outside. Chicago had been cold, but Minnesota somehow was colder. Your aunt had apologized she couldn't pick you up from school but it wasn't really her fault. She had to pick up some extra shifts to keep up with the bills. You're just glad she let you stay with her. 8 months ago, you really had no idea where you would end up.

8 months ago...

Detective Dawson ran off to make some calls, leaving you to your own thoughts. You noticed the worried glances of his coworkers watching you from the unit floor. You didn’t know any of them, they were all sorta intimidating in their own way, well, except for the woman with brown hair, she looked nice. It just felt better to block them out and focus on the mug in your hands. The hot chocolate had gotten cold in the time it took you to process everything and really you haven’t truly processed anything.

Dawson came back in the room, his face muddled with several emotions. There was some stress, determination and anger but you made out the sympathy on his features most of all. Most people don't want sympathy, but you were just glad someone was caring enough to do so. Trailing behind him was another cop, older, you'd seen him before, just didn't know his name.

"You got anyone we can call?" Antonio asks. you had to wrack your brain a bit. It hadn’t occurred to you that this would be important. "I have an aunt. I haven't talked to her in years. My dad and her don't get along."

The two men exchanged a glance. And you understood now. If you didn't find a home yourself, they'd have to put you in a group home. That was not good. You had heard stories, everyone has. Group homes only provide shelter to trouble. If you ended up there who knows what would happen to you after. You hadn’t thought this through, this was a bad idea. In some sort of a desperate plea, you grab the detective’s hand as he’s about the leave with the other guy.

"Wait no no... I can't live in a home. I can't. I'd rather go home to my dad. Please no." Panic evident in your voice. His face softens, kneeling down to your height. He was just going to try to comfort you. You forced yourself to remember whatever he says can’t change the truth. He isn’t the one making the rules. You’re not naive.

"Hey, hey kiddo. Not there yet, let's give your aunt a ring and see if we can get ahold of her. You got a name?" His voice calm, if he was worried you really couldn’t tell now, unlike when he first returned. You gave her name, not knowing anything besides she lived in St. Paul. But they were cops, you figured they could track her down.

The other guy, Voight, left, you heard him call out to someone named Halstead to run your aunt's name. Antonio didn’t move, just kept holding your hand looking around as if he wasn’t. The fact we seemed unbothered by the comforting gesture put you more at ease, yet you still were struggling with this.

"B-but what if she doesn't want me?"

There was a look of disbelief in his face, as if you were made of solid gold. It was fake and you knew it, still, it was comforting. "We're gonna figure it out, ok? I'll tell her myself what a great kid you are."

"I'm sorry."

The detective didn’t have to say anything, but you knew he deflected your apology. Somehow you just knew the minute you said it what his response was going to be. He didn’t feel bothered. And on top of this it was going to work out. He would make sure it worked out.

And it did. Given the explanation of the situation, your Aunt was happy to take you in. Antonio pulled some strings and you spent one night with his colleague Kim Burgess (the woman with the brown hair) before your aunt took over custody. In less than 48 hours you were on your way to Minnesota with a bag you packed and your dad had no clue. For once you knew there was at least one person who was worth trusting in this world.

The snow crunched below your feet. It was only another mile or so to your aunt’s place. The roads were pretty clear. Much of the snow had been packed down for days, but a recent heatwave melted and refroze the roads to solid ice. The deceiving snow was only an inch or two thick on top of the slick icy layer beneath. So, when you hear tires squeal, it is not in any way surprising. You were learning to drive yourself; ice roads were something that even your aunt had trouble managing let alone teach you how to navigate. You had respect for anyone who was able to successfully manage those roads in two-wheel drive. Whipping around, there’s not a two-ton car sliding towards you as you had expected, planning to dive roll into the snow. There’s a black van with a guy in a ski mask running towards you.

Crap.

Taking advantage of the ice, you threw your backpack at him, hoping he’d lose his balance and walk onto the more slippery road. Yet things do not go to plan as he easily recovers and continues to pursue you, reaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You fought. You screamed, wailed, bit, flailed, kicked and every other defensive action your subconscious could think of. It didn’t work, he was just too much bigger than you. You were thrown into the back of the van.

no no no no no this can’t be happening.

You considered yourself a calm person, but that was before you were tied and gagged in the back of a van. The darkness seemed to only escalate your fears as you had a blank canvas to imagine your worst nightmares becoming reality. "Please, just let me go” you must have said it 40 times before something heavy hit your head.

Things faded in and out. Darkness and light fought a battle, but you could never really tell if you could see or not, it was all just shadows. The nausea was also coming in waves, paired with the throbbing sensation on the back of your head. You had been pistol whipped. But of course, you didn’t know that. The sheer terror of the entire situation still had you disoriented. You couldn’t feel the time pass, most people know what a minute or five minutes feels like, but you couldn’t focus. It was all too much.

 When the van doors slide open you hear the guy who grabbed you talk to whoever was driving. “I still can’t believe this guy.” His gruff voice scoffed, close by.

“Well, he had the money, who are we to judge.”

“Guy? Had someone hired them to take me? Was I about to be sold or something?”

 You’re embarrassed to say the next voice you heard brought you half a millisecond of comfort, it was misplaced. “You had to put a sack over her head?” It was your dad. How? Better question why would he ask that question though he had no emotion in his voice.

The men and your dad talk as you wrestle with this entire shock. Suddenly someone picks you up and carries you over their shoulder. You figured it was guy who grabbed you, but feeling that whoever was holding you gently lowered you to the floor, you made the new assumption it was your dad. The blindfold and gag came off in a quick motion. You were met with the hollow face of your father in some sort of abandoned room. He gave a sickening smile, one that brought no relief with it. “I brought you back sugar!”

“Dad, let me go.”

He nodded and started to undo your restraints. It couldn’t be this easy. Taking a moment, he was preoccupied with removing the duct tape glue from your arms, as if he cared, you jumped up, running across the room to open the metal door, but it was locked.

“Open the door, dad.”

“Y-you’ll just leave.” He whimpered, face looking offended.

This wasn’t your dad. The eyes were too hopeful and the demeanor was too caring. This was you dad having some sort of a mental breakdown. The pieces came together as you watched the tremors in his hands. Not knowing the man in front of you felt more terrifying than the man you ran away from. Before, you knew somewhere buried deep in his subconscious he would never seriously harm you beyond some bruises. But you stared into eyes you didn’t recognize. It was entirely possible he was going to kill you. All of that mess 8 months ago just to end up dying in Chicago and nobody knows about it.

But that’s where you were wrong.

Within a 25 mile radius…

“Detective Dawson,”

The somewhat uncaring police deputy at St. Paul started running down the situation. There wasn’t much to tell. Your backpack was found in a snowbank near some blood in the snow with you nowhere to be found. Your aunt had been adamant that the deputy at the front desk reach Antonio. And of course, the detective roped his unit into the situation. Voight made it a priority. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that Antonio cared about you, he cared about all his teen CIs. They were his secondary kids. He would find you, even if he hadn’t promised you to do so. He promised himself. When word had come in that your dad had been behind the entire situation it was not much of a shock. A man with a past of petty crime and domestic abuse with mental health concerns did seem like a high probability suspect. He had also rented out a storage container on the industrial side of town. Antonio and his team suited up. He was going to end this situation here and now.

 “CHICAGO PD OPEN THE DOOR”

In a frenzied craze, your father throws you to the floor. It would make sense for him to run, but logic wasn’t a key factor right now. His foot goes to your neck and the gun points to your head. The gun must have been on his back, you hadn’t seen it until now.

I don’t want to die.

Not like this.

Not here.

Please no.

Please.

 Bursting through the door you make out several people with weapons drawn on your dad. Light floods the dark room leaving the two of you partially blind, yet the tension still filled the air.

“LET HER GO.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. Regardless, your neck was still being crushed. Air was slowly waning from your lungs. And then it wasn’t. In an instant you felt his foot roll out from over you, giving you a chance to scramble away.

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s ok. We’re police.”

And that was likely the only time anyone from your side of town was happy to hear that phrase. But still, you couldn’t quite comprehend it. It was a full mess of tears, screaming, wailing and shaking. You had been mere seconds from death by gun or choking, you couldn’t just suck it up. Not even you were that badass. Nonetheless, the cops weren’t getting anywhere with calming you down.

“Call an ambo.” Calls another voice, a woman. “Tonio, you ok?”

“Yeah” And under normal circumstances you would have connected the dots, but as it has already been overly reiterated, you were not stable right now. The only thing you could register was the familiar hand on top of yours gently squeezing your arm below.

“Shhh shhh, it’s ok kiddo, we got you. He’s gone.”

Hold it, you know that voice.

And what would you know, you finally grasped it. Staring down at you is Detective Dawson, once again saving your neck, literally. It was probably against some rule, but you just buried your head in his shoulder trying to block out everything outside. He let it slide, just holding you there, seemingly not in any rush to move you till the paramedics arrived. In time you realized the other officer trying to calm you down had been Burgess, but you just hadn’t recognized her. You’re in pain, but not horrendous amounts, must be the adrenaline. Regardless, Antonio calls another officer, Atwater, to carry you outside to the ambulance. Before you know it, the ambo is driving away from the scene to Chicago Med, leaving the Intelligence Unit to deal with the aftermath including Dawson.

Sitting in the ER, you wait for test results to return on your head scan. More had happened in the last 12 hours than in the last 8 months. You realized how much you liked the simplicity and (relative) safety of Minnesota, but now you’d at least carry pepper spray. You’re pulled from your thoughts as you see Dawson peak from the side of the curtains. You had not felt too lonely or afraid before given the officers stationed outside your room, but seeing him made you feel better.

“Hey kiddo, how’s the neck?” he smiles, moving into the room slowly as if he was trying not to scare you.

You smile weakly, still exhausted. “Alright, considering.” You noticed tape on the base of his neck on one side extending underneath his shirt where you couldn’t see. “What happened?”

“I might be getting a little long in the tooth for tackling suspects.” And by suspects, you knew he meant your dad. He was the one who got him off you. “Are you ok?” You ask. “All good, just had to get my shoulder checked out.”

“Ok, glad you’re ok.” And you truly were. You would feel awful if you had been the reason he had been seriously injured, especially after you were supposed to be out of his hair.

He nods, fiddling with his hands on the rail at the end of your bed. “Hey, your aunt is on her way to get you, it’s gonna be awhile, but I talked to your doctor and they said they’ll keep you till she arrives to monitor your concussion.”

You nod. “My dad?”

“We got him, he’s going away for a long time.” You notice his lack of enthusiasm in that response, obviously thinking that justice had not been fully served.

“But not forever.” Your voice soft, barely over a whisper.

He shook his head. “Long enough you’re not going to need to worry about him.”

“But you’ll come rescue me again if he tries, right?” You cocked an eyebrow, knowing it wasn’t a promise he could make, but every reassuring thing he told you made you feel better anyways.

“As much as I love the job, I don’t know if I’m going to be on the force in 40 years.”

“Yeah, you might not be able to a shoot a gun while using a walker with tennis balls on the bottom.” The two of you laugh a bit at that visualization.

As you quiet down you notice he looks a bit more serious.“But yeah, I’ll get you.”

Once again, probably against some protocol, but you just had to reach out and hug him burying your face in his leather jacket. He leans forward to pull you in. Something about it was just natural, you knew he’d protect you, you knew that now.

“Thank you so much. I’d be dead.”

“Of course,” He pets your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“T-thank you for caring.” He pulls back to look you in the eyes.

“I checked your record, no priors since you left. Thank you for being worth it.” He smiles.

The two of you sit there for a minute, staring at each other, his hand still the (good) side of your head. You’d never really had a dad moment like this, but if this was the first and last dad moment you ever had, you were ok with it. It was perfect. He stands up, stretching out his back as if he’s about to leave. But instead, he pulls up a chair.

“You don’t mind if I stick around till your aunt arrives do you?”

You gently shook your head. Truth was, you were too afraid to ask him to do so, but of course, somehow, he knew what you needed. So there the two of you sat. Talking about the extremely normal things you had been involved in back in Minnesota. You swear he kept a small smile on his face the entire time. Just happy to see you moving on. It was done.

 When you turned 18, you reached out the Antonio again and asked if he would be willing to meet up for lunch, now that it was “legal” to do so. And now it has become an annual event with occasional bonus trips when you somehow wind up in the Windy City. Your lives may have grown apart in distance but something would always keep the two of you together. He’d always be there for you, and you needed that. Maybe not everyone needs a perfect father figure to survive in the world, but knowing a tough boxing detective would be by your side in one phone call gave you the freedom of safety. Your aunt is an amazing woman, but Antonio Dawson is really the one who you owe everything to.

He promised, you trusted, and it was the first decision of your life that truly mattered.

A/N: I know my presence on this account is sporadic, but I hope some people enjoy this. I’m going to dive into my drafts to work on some of the partially written responses I have for some old requests. (: 

[rohad93]

Sea Legs

My last fic before i go on hiatus for the duration of season 2.

Have a good one yall!

~ ~ ~

Luz stared listlessly out at the sea as the ship bobbed along; bored. The same rolling blue-green ocean stretched out for miles in every direction just as it had every day for the past month and a half, endless and unchanging. She loved the sea, really, she did; it was why she had left home the first minute she was able to and had joined the first ship that would take her.

The Tawny Owl was a 'merchant' ship. At least that was what it’s captain, Edalyn Clawthorne, or The Owl Lady or Cap'n Eda, as she preferred to be known, called it.

Even though Cap'n Eda used actual finger quotes around the word 'merchant', they definitely did sell things

Just, things that weren't theirs.

Luz didn't mind it really.

They didn't kill anyone… Well, she didn't. If people got unruly while Tawny Owl crew was trying to take their things then Eda was sometimes known to fire off a few rounds or toss someone overboard and 'let the ocean do as it would'.

King also had a bit of a mean streak when the moment struck him. The first mate was a small man with an ego and temper that was much larger than he was and was prone to exploding at a moment’s notice.

He cared though, in his own way.

Hooty, though, was… something else.

Despite their, sometimes, shady nature, Luz loved the Cap’n and the rest of the crew just as much as she loved the sea. She’d grown up on stories of sea monsters and daring adventures across the water in large, gallant ships. People going to far-off places to see new things.

That was what she wanted and she did get a lot of it. She’d met all kinds of people and characters in her five years sailing with Eda and the rest of the crew.

All that being said, sometimes, the long weeks and months at sea could be very, very boring.

Not all the time. Somedays, when they weren’t doing the usual tasks of tightening ropes, repairing sales or swabbing the deck they would fish over the side of the boat.

Most of them fished with a net or string, but Barrelman Hooty, would climb down from the crow's nest and dive straight into the water, knife clenched between his teeth.

Luz would never understand the large, muscular man, but he was nice and took care of her a lot. More than once he’d hauled her out of the way of danger but, even so, he was more than a little strange. Like how he liked to wear two eye-patches… even though both his eyes were fine.

She’s asked Eda once and the answer had been a shrug. There were some things that just defied explanation.

They had been out at sea for a month now, chasing after an actual merchant ship that had been rumored to have some incredibly rare and precious cargo on board that wasn’t exactly well guarded. That had been enough for Eda to have them heave to.

So now, here they were, weeks into a chase, well, sort of. They were sneaking up on the merchant ship a little more each day, waiting for the perfect time to hit it when they pulled into dock near Port Royal.

They should be coming up on it tonight and, in Eda’s words, were going to ‘Rob it blind and then blast it to kingdom come if we have to!’

Luz was content to wonder just what kind of priceless goods the ship could be carrying to not have much in the way of protection. Most of the time they did that so as not to draw attention to themselves. Of course, they’d hit their share of bum ships that they thought would have goods but hadn’t had much of anything, much to Eda’s chagrin. That was just the sort of risk they took.

She leaned her arms on the side of the ship, watching the waves lap at the worn wooden hull. The sun was starting to set and they would be moving in soon.

The plan was simple, in theory. They would pull into the dock and she would slip onto the ship while the rest of the crew made distractions of themselves. Hooty was really good at that too.

She stood there for a long while, getting lost in her thoughts and listening to the distant sounds of seagulls as they flew overhead; the heat from the sun was tempered by the cool breeze that was pushing them steadily through the water at a good clip. The sun had just started to set when she heard Hooty call down from the crows nest.

“Land, hoot!”

Luz shook her head at the strange man’s queer turn of phrase but looked up anyway and turned her eyes towards the horizon. Sure enough, she could see a dark smudge on the horizons, slowly growing  

“Ya ready to go, kid?” A sudden voice called and Luz looked up as Eda walked up to her, grinning brightly, arms crossed over her chest and her maroon and gold captain's jacket hanging off her shoulders.

“As ready as ever, I guess,” she shrugged as Eda came to stand next to her looking out at the sea.

“That’s the spirit!” she laughed, slapping the young woman on the back as she snorted. Luz grinned at her. This would hardly be the first time they had pulled this trick. Luz was by far the quietest and most inconspicuous member of the crew and thus, the best suited for the job when stealth was required.

Quiet in the grand scheme of things? No but definitely the quietest and least destructive member of the crew.

They didn’t wanna fight if they didn’t have to.  

They definitely would though if the occasion called for it.

“What am I looking for exactly?” Luz asked, brows furrowing as she looked at Eda, who shrugged.

“Anything that looks like it might be worth money.” She held up her fingers and rubbed them together with a grin.

“Right…” Luz nodded and Eda clapped her on the back one more time.

“No worries, kid. This will be an easy job,” Eda assured her and, with that, turned and walked back toward the helm where King was glaring at a map that looked suspiciously like it was upside down.

Eda said that about most jobs, but it wasn’t exactly as easy as she made it out to be.

Within the hour, they pulled into port and, just down the dock from them, was the large ship they had been following for the better part of a month.

They waited, watching it as the most of the crew filed off once night fell and made their way to the nearby tavern.

“You ready, kid?” Eda asked her and Luz nodded. “You know what to do.” She grinned as the rest of the crew moved off the ship, to throw their plan into action

Luz nodded and, with a canvas bag thrown over one shoulder, she took a breath before heaving herself overboard into the waiting, dark waters below. She hit the cold water in a sudden rush, becoming all but weightless for a moment as she plunged through the water.

No matter how many times they pulled this stunt, she never got tired of that part.

Except when it was really cold.

She surfaced with minimum noise and shook her head, wiping some water off her face as she swam toward the other ship. The closer she got, the more she could hear the yelling and fighting of metal clanging as cutlasses clashed and musket shots rang out in the night. Eda and the rest of the crew, already creating a distraction.  

She swam up to the ship's hull and grabbed hold of one of the ropes dangling down into the water and tensed as she started to haul herself out of the water, carefully and slowly climbing up the side. The sounds of fighting was growing slightly more distant at this point. Her crew were leading whatever people had remained on the ship away. With a grunt, she hauled herself up, peeking over the side to the deck. It was empty and she flung herself over the side, pushing her sopping wet hair back out of her eyes. She moved quickly to the captain’s quarters and didn’t need to look long before she found the captain’s log and took it with her, flipping through to the back and finding the cargo log. She scanned the list quickly and found all the usual suspects. Spices, wood, soap. Nothing that really jumped out at her except one thing.

A very large crate, marked as exotic meat, heading to a well known and expensive eatery in the capital. There was nothing special about that though so she shoved the book into her bag and hurried back out onto the deck and scurried to the entrance that led below deck, where whatever they were carrying would be kept. Her time was ticking by quickly and she didn’t want to be left on board when the rest of her crew pulled back and this ship’s crew came back.

It was dim down in the hull of the ship; a few oil lamps hung from the wall, their flames flickering and casting long shadows across everything. She walked as quickly and quietly as possible across the creaky floorboards, eyes skittering across all the crates scattered around the room but nothing immediately stuck out to her as being important. She’d been with Eda long enough to have developed an eye for things that might be worth something, most of the time anyway. Most of the crates were marked with stamps for things she knew and had been marked in the log book. Tea, spices and the like but nothing like what Eda had expected to be here. There were a few sacks on the floor that she ruffled through and found some tiny bags or uncut gemstones, which she stored in her bag. It was better to come back with something than nothing at all.      

She moved quickly, searching through everything she could but there was nothing here that Luz would call a ‘great treasure’ she grunted to herself, frowning. Eda wasn’t going to be happy but there wasn’t much to be done about it. As she moved, she caught sight of the large crate sitting against the wall and with nothing to lose, moved over to it. It was longer than she was tall and came up to her waist. She gave  it an experimental kick and jumped when something thumped back.

“Wha-!” She reeled back, blinking at the crate but nothing else happened. She leaned forward, hand raised and gently taped on the box but this time, there was no answer. She blinked at the box for a long second.

Maybe she’d imagined it?

Just as she was about to turn and go, the box thumped again, making her jerk.

Something was in there!

She looked around and quickly found a prybar, not even pausing to consider just what might be inside before she wedged the bar under the lip of the crate and with a grunt and a mighty crack, pried the lid loose, sending her stumbling back

It crashed over the side, falling to the floor and the sharp, salty smell of sea water immediately hit her. She took a cautious step forward and peered into the crate. It was full of dark, murky water and… something else. Something glimmered dimly just under the surface but it was too dark to see.

She ran over and grabbed one of the oil lamps hanging from a nail on the wall and moved back to the crate, holding the light over the lips of the box.

Something, green, glimmered below the surface and she leaned closer toward the water, squinting into the depths.

Suddenly the water sloshed and she jerked back with a shriek, landing flat on her butt on the floor and jarring her tailbone painfully as something broke the surface of the water. She scrambled to sit back up, fumbling for the lamp and holding it up in front of her.

Luz felt her jaw all but come unhinged as she stared back at… a woman?

A woman was staring back at her from the confines of the crate but she didn;t look like any woman Luz had ever seen before.

The first thing she noticed was her hair. It lay wet and flat against her shoulders in a bright shade of pale green that Luz had never seen on someone before with long strands of ruddy brown at the crown, pulled away from her angular face.

The next thing was her ears.

Long and pointed.

“Wha-” Luz continued to gape as a pair of bright, golden-colored eyes stared back at her in a glare.

Just when she thought she couldn’t be any more surprised, something else flipped up out of the water.

Long, blue-green fins attached to an expanse of scaly flesh. The scales seemed to shimmer and shine even in the low light of the lamps.

A tail.

A handful of stories from her childhood suddenly popped into the forefront of Luz’s mind. Tales of sea creatures, half-human and half-fish, that swam faster than any man could ever hope and had no need to breathe.

Old wives’ tales of pulling sailors under the depths to drown. Creatures that would steal and hoard the treasure from sunken ships.

“A mermaid…,” Luz heard herself mumble, almost unbidden. Her shocked stupor was broken only as the tail splashed back down into the water and droplets of warm, seawater splashed her in the face, making her blink. “Wow, you’re…” she scrambled back to her feet and took a step forward but then the creature… woman? The woman in front of her jerked back, spine pressed against the side of the crate, shoulders bunched up around her neck, and Luz stopped, holding up her hands. “It’s okay… I’m not gonna hurt you or anything,” she tried to calm her but those sharp eyes only continued to glare at her silently. Luz frowned, humming. “You probably don’t understand me,... do you?” she asked and, again, silence was her answer.

She moved slowly around the crate, careful not to actually get any closer but those golden iris’s never left her. Not that Luz could blame her. She wouldn't be happy about being shoved into a crate either. She had a swathe of bright magenta fabric wrapped around her chest, studded with what looked to Luz like sea glass and pearls. Their shiny surfaces catching in the light.

A real-life mermaid, just like in her stories! Luz could hardly believe her eyes.  

“You must be the thing…,” she breathed quietly but then frowned. The thing they had come looking for…

She jerked, suddenly and again the sea creature jerked back, sloshing water out the sides of the crate but Luz didn’t notice as she dug the log book out of her bag and quickly scanned it and found absolutely no mention of any mythical sea creatures or even anything alive on their manifest.

In fact, the only thing that even came close to matching the description of the crate in front of her was the one line of text she had noticed.

Exotic meat…

“Ay dios mio, they're gonna eat you!” she yelped, dropping the book to the floor. She didn’t notice the way the woman’s eyes widened. “I gotta do something…,’ Luz mumbled to herself, pacing the room quickly and chewing on her bottom lip as her thoughts raced a mile a minute.

The ocean was only just outside… she only had to get her upstairs. Luz whipped back around to lock eyes with the mermaid, staring back at her.

She couldn’t just let some stupidly rich aristocrats eat a mermaid and call it exotic meat!

She took a step forward and, predictably, she pressed herself back against the far wall of the crate.

“It’s okay,” She held up her hands as she slowly approached but she could see it in the woman’s eyes, as clear as day.

Fear.

“I’m not gonna hurt you but if I don’t get you outta here soon, someone else will,” she spoke in low, quiet tones as she approached. Time was slipping through her fingers like sand as she spoke. They were both going to get it if she couldn’t get out of here quickly. She took another step forward and the creature’s lips pulled back over a pair of fang-like eyeteeth, trying to ward her away, her tail splashing angrily in the water and Luz paused.

There was no way she was going to let Luz get her out without a fight.

There was no way she was going to let people eat a rare and mythical creature.

“Okay then!” She bowed up and the woman seemed to draw back some but the snarl never left her face and then Luz quickly covered the last few paces to the crate and grabbed her.

To predictably disastrous results.

Apparently, mermaids have claws; who knew?

Luz let out a pained sound as she dragged the struggling creature out of the crate, hauling it over her shoulder and sloshing sea water everywhere as she felt the sharp lashes of claws digging painfully into her back, searching for an escape.

She turned and ran, doing her best to keep her balance as a long, muscular tail whipped around frantically and the woman growled and snarled in her grip as she clawed at her.

“I’m just trying to help you!” she yelled as she sprinted up the stairs, panting. She was solid and the thrashing around while mauling her didn’t help Luz in the least.

She managed to make it up onto the deck, still flailing as she stumbled around, trying to maintain her balance as the woman thrashed in her arms.  

“Please be still!” Luz hissed, voice pitching as she felt another talon dig through her thin tunic, shirt, and skin. Why did she have to be so dang nice!?

Just as she was crossing the deck the woman reared back in another attempt to break free and then blinding pain shot across Luz’s face in a trail of fire from above her eye down her cheek.

“Argh!” She stumbled but managed to keep her footing and made a beeline straight for the side of the ship, despite the warm blood she could feel dripping down her face. She didn’t hesitate to throw the woman over the side, watching as she hit the water with a splash. She didn't resurface but Luz figured she’d swam off the moment she’d hit and then she realized the sounds of fighting had stopped.

“You, stop!”

She looked over her shoulder to find the crew had returned and were darting across the deck toward her.

“Bye!” she grinned, wiggling her fingers.

She threw herself over the side of the boat and fell to the water with a splash. Limbs akimbo as she hit the water like a cannonball and didn’t even pause before she started swimming back to the Tawny Owl, beneath the dark water. The salt water burned her myriad of cuts but that was much preferred to a musket shot through the back so she never slowed, holding her breath as she moved through the water back toward the ship.

When she finally resurfaced with a gasp, it was on the other side of the ship, out of sight. She panted as she swam off to the dock and hauled herself up onto the planks. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off she felt every gash in her skin with striking clarity and she didn’t like it at all.

It. Hurt.

She walked down the dock toward the Tawny Owl , consoling herself with the thought that she had done the right thing. Even if the recipient hadn’t exactly been grateful about it…

She wiped a sopping wet arm across her face and pulled her sleeve back to see the blood quickly seeping into the fabric of her sleeve. She’d gotten her good too.

Eda was waiting for her when she finally climbed up the plank.

“Hey, Kid, how was - What the hell happened to you?!” Eda’s shout got the attention of all the rest of the crew as she jogged forward, eyes darting over Luz’s bloody face.

Luz paused. She couldn’t very well tell Eda she had rescued a mermaid from being someone's dinner. She probably wouldn't have even believed her to start with and, even if she did, knowing the opportunistic captain, Eda would’ve wanted to sell her for sure.

“They had… dogs,” she said after a moment.

“Dogs?” Eda repeated and Luz nodded.

“Guard dogs, they attacked me down in the hold,” She quickly lied as Eda looked at her back and chased a breath at whatever she saw.

“They tore you up, Kid…, You best go down and see Viney,” she said and Luz nodded; it felt like it.

“So what, we got nothing from all that time?!” King’s sudden squeal made her stop and Eda looked at her questioningly.

“I did manage to grab these, that was really all there was except some crates of tea and stuff.” She dug through her bag and handed over the little bags of gemstones, which Eda appraised for a moment before nodding and slipping them into the inner pocket of her captain’s coat.

“We can make some decent money off these, not a total loss, good job, Kid. Now, go see Viney, you’re bleeding all over my freshly swabbed deck!” She ordered and Luz didn’t need to be told twice before hurrying down to see the ship’s doctor.

Viney whistled loudly as she examined the litany of long cuts in Luz’s skin as she wiped away the blood.

“Them things got you good, didn’t they?” she commented as Luz sat on a stool in front of her, bandages in hand.

“Yeah,” Luz mumbled with a nod. Her whole back was a mass of throbbing but Viney assured her she would be fine, so the deckhand contented herself with playing with the doctors large, black parrot, Puddles.

“Strange though….” she hummed and Luz glanced at her over her shoulder.

“What?”

“You don’t have any bites… just all these long gashes… are you sure it was dogs?” she asked and Luz paused in her petting of the bird.

“Oh yea… big ones,” Luz nodded and Viney just hummed but said nothing else about it. Once she was all patched up, Viney sent her on her way with orders of no heavy lifting till her gashes closed up some.

She caught sight of herself in the dirty mirror as she stood to go and saw the bloody gash that trailed from just over her left eyebrow and down her cheek, thankfully, missing her eye. That was going to leave a mark for sure.

“Hey, I finally got my first cool scar!” She grinned and from behind her, Viney just laughed.

~  ~  ~

The day was bright and a gentle breeze was blowing across the sea as Luz sat on a plank lowered down the side of the ship as she used a knife to scrape the barnacles off the hull.

It was ‘chore day’ on the Tawny Owl and that meant all of the general maintenance required to keep them afloat like mending the sails and replacing old, frayed ropes. They sat out in the middle of the ocean so they wouldn't be bothered while they worked.

Since she was off any kind of heavy lifting duty’s, per Viney’s specific orders, Eda had given her the easiest job on the ship. Luz was pretty sure she felt bad for sending Luz down into a ‘dog infested’ hull to grab loot too.

The truth was a secret Luz would take to her grave.

She and Eda were pretty close but she didn’t want to test that by telling her that she’d been mauled by a honest to goodness mermaid; a mermaid that someone would probably pay through the nose for. Luz had literally thrown a fortune overboard. That wouldn’t be a fun conversation to have.

She hummed along to the sound of the song the rest of the crew was singing up on deck as it wafted down to her by the water.

“To bring us sugar and tea and rum!” she sang quietly to herself, head bobbing along to the jaunty tune as she wedged the blade under another barnacle.

She let her mind drift back to that fateful night. She could still clearly see the glint of those scales in her mind, could still see the pointed ears and eyes as bright and shiny as the doubloons Eda was always running through her fingers in her quarters.

A real, living mermaid. She could still hardly believe it and might have thought it all a dream had her throbbing back and newly scarred up face not confirmed the reality of the situation.

Luz was still struck by how otherworldly and pretty she had been… despite the whole mauling thing...

Who in their right mind would think to eat one?!

She was lost in her thoughts when the sound of splashing water made her look up and turn. The gentle waves lapping at the boat seemed undisturbed and she didn't see anything. More than once she’d been down here and something had jumped out of the water and smacked her before, so she kept a careful eye out. You only needed to be smacked in the face by a tuna once to learn that lesson.

Seeing nothing, she turned back to the task at hand but as she turned she did spot something, sitting on the plank beside her.

An oyster shell sat on the wood beside her and sitting there, inside it, was a pearl.

“Huh?” Luz looked around but was greeted by nothing but ocean waves. She set down her knife and picked up the oyster, it was still wet and dripped as she carefully rolled it out onto her palm. It was perfectly round and smooth between her fingers.

“Where… where did it come from?” she mumbled, scratching her head with her other hand as she gazed down at the small jewel. With a shrug she slipped the pearl into the front pocket of her shirt and turned back to the task at hand but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

She nearly forgot about it entirely until a few days later.

They had come to a stop in the middle of the ocean to fix a tear in the mainsail at about sundown and while they did, Luz lowered herself down to the water in one of the rowboats, determined to do some fishing while she had the time and Hooty was too busy helping with the sails to go diving into the water, scaring them all away.

The boat bobbed along in the, for once, placid water. There was hardly a breath of wind, as was often the case at this time of day. When the sun began to sink over that distant horizon it caught the sea ablaze in sparkling hues of red, orange, and pink. The ocean sat quiet, or, as quiet as it ever got.  

The tear in the sail came from a little... incident between Hooty and King rather than any storm or winds. Luz hummed to herself as she cast out her line and set her little driftwood pole against the side of the boat. Now all she had to do was wait.

Admittedly, that was not her strongest suit.

So, she picked up the old worn book at her side and flipped it open, the pages filled with a great number of charcoal sketches. Some were messy, a jumble of lines and shapes with no rhyme or reason while others were smooth, refined, and accurate to life in their detail. Fish and other sea life spread across the parchment.

She was pretty happy with some of them.

She flipped to the last sketch she had been working on and frowned to herself. Sketchy lines and rough shading of a long, scaly tail and a face with pointed ears. She wasn’t happy with it. She needed more than a few moments of seeing her but that wasn’t going to happen now, so she did the best she could.

The warm, waning sunlight glared into her eyes as she sat hunched over her sketchbook, looking up occasionally to check her line. In an hour she’d caught one measly little fish about the length of her palm and not much else.

She sketched out another line and frowned to herself when she pulled back to look at it. It was all wrong! She grunted and set the charcoal between the crease of the pages and closed it with a snap, setting it off to the side.

She leaned back in the boat, looking up at the clear blue sky, and sighed. Her mind inevitably went back to thinking about the mermaid whenever she had a spare moment. All those stories she had heard and read as a kid, all the tales of grand adventures and mystery that had led her to this life to start with and she had finally come face to face with something truly incredible…

...and it had tried to maul her.

To be fair, she probably would have been scared and less than welcoming if she’d been stuffed in a crate and was being shipped out to be some governor's exotic dinner. They had been trailing that ship for a month. She had to have been in there for at least that long, probably longer. Did they feed her or just leave her in a dark, water-filled crate?

Luz frowned to herself and closed her eyes. The thought made her angry.

At least she was free now.

Probably somewhere far away.

There was a sudden splash and, before Luz could even open her eyes, something large, wet and wriggling slapped her in the face.

“Argh!” She sat up, eyes snapping open as a large tuna fell into her lap, flopping and flinging seawater everywhere. “Mierda!” She tossed it off her onto the floor of the boat where it flopped around. “What the hell?!” She blinked at it for a long moment before the sound of sloshing water made her turn and her jaw hung open.

A pair of golden eyes were peering up at her from just above the water a scant few feet away.

Luz sucked in a sharp breath as she stared back at the eyes looking back at her.

“You…,” she mumbled. She could hardly believe her eyes.  “You’re here!” she jerked forward and the eyes reared back before disappearing beneath the water. “No, don’t go!” Luz called, scrambling for the other side of the boat and half throwing herself into the water.

She didn’t even register the saltwater stinging her eyes as she looked around frantically. The water was bright and clear and she blinked, coming face to face with those eyes again, blinking back at her in clear surprise. Luz opened her mouth to speak and bubbles poured out as saltwater rushed into her mouth.

She reared back, flinging water as she flopped back into the boat and choking on the water she’d swallowed.

Luz hacked and coughed, spitting up water, not noticing the eyes now peeking up over the side of the boat, watching her.

“Ugh!” she spat out the water and pushed the wet hair out of her face, blinking to clear her eyes. “Right… air,’ she grumbled to herself and wiped the water off her face.

She looked up and saw the creature looking at her over the rim of the boat.

“You’re here…” She honestly didn’t know what else to say in the face of a mythical creature staring back at her from the water with bright, curious eyes.

Till she did.

“Why are you here…?” she seemed to mumble more to herself than anything and she moved forward. Once more, the skittish creature dove under the water but Luz didn’t follow this time.

Not as far anyway. She leaned over the side of the boat and glanced into the water.

Just below the surface, the woman was staring back at her.

The large fish flopping around hit her leg and she glanced at it before turning her attention back to the water with sudden realization.

“You threw that up here… why?” she cocked her head.

The woman’s eyes seemed to linger on Luz’s face. It took Luz a moment to realize she was staring at the long, scabbed-over gash running down her left cheek.

She flicked her tail in a slow, almost sorrowful movement and Luz found herself mesmerized by its floating path through the water behind her, smooth and languid.

She dragged her eyes back to the mermaid's face. The creature brushed back floating tendrils of green hair and blinked slowly at her. Golden eyes lowered demurely as the face twisted in an expression that Luz recognized immediately: regret.

"You… wish that hadn't happened?" she asked.

The mermaid looked at her for a long moment and nodded. Then she darted forward, emerging from the water with a splash that made Luz lunge backward in fright.

The mermaid looked at the human, huddled in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the boat and sighed.

"I'm sorry... for what happened," she said finally, her voice low and her eyes quickly darting away from Luz’s.

Luz blinked up at her for a long moment as she held herself up on the side of the boat, making it tip dangerously under her weight.

“You do talk!” Luz jerked forward and the woman tensed but didn’t dive back into the water, though she did flinch away slightly.

“Yes…,” she mumbled and glanced back at the human only to find her staring up at her in wide-eyed wonder. Eyes, all but sparkling in the glinting light of the setting sun.

“This is amazing…” Luz mumbled to herself, absolutely flabbergasted, eyes darting everywhere. She was back, right here in front of her!

Suddenly, her brows furrowed as a thought occurred to her and she looked up at, brown meeting gold.

“Why are you here?” she asked, cocking her head and the mermaid turned away from her, pushing a few strands of wet, green hair behind her ear.

“I wanted to say thank you… for saving me… and I’m sorry… for the… clawing,” she mumbled, waving a hand over her own face. Luz reached up to touch the rough scabs over her cheek.

“It’s okay,” Luz said simply and then those gold eyes swiveled back to her. Shock and confusion clear in their metallic depths.

“It’s… how can you just say that… I…” She glanced down at the long, sharp claws that tipped each finger.

Luz arranged herself more comfortably on the floor of the boat, tipped precariously under Amity’s weight leaning on it.

“I probably woulda lashed out too if someone shoved me in a crate for who knows how long…,” she said with a little shrug. “I’ll heal” She waved a hand dismissively.

The creature still didn’t look content with that but nodded.

“Thank you…” she trailed off and Luz perked.

“I’m Luz.” She grinned, holding out a hand.

The woman blinked down at it for a second.

“Humans shake it when you meet new people,” Luz explained. Mermaids probably didn’t do that. Why did humans? Something to ask Eda later.

Hesitantly, she reached out and wrapped her hand around Luz’s, who gave a gentle shake. Her skin was damp but soft and smooth under Luz’s calloused grip.

“Amity,” she said and Luz grinned even wider.

She pulled back and happened to catch sight of the sea glass attached to the fabric wrapped around her chest and had a sudden realization.

“You left the pearl!” she suddenly yelped, making Amity jerk back at the sudden yell. “A couple days ago, when I was down by the water…”

“Oh… yes, that was me…,” she nodded.

“Have you… been following us this whole time?” she asked and Amity nodded her head. “Why? Just to tell me thanks?” Luz cocked her head and Amity’s eyes darted away, her tail flicked lazily out of the water, slapping the surface and disappearing again. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding.              

“Yes, I… I didn’t know where I was being taken or what was going to happen until you showed up and said…” she seemed to trail off.

“That they were going to eat you?” Luz asked and she nodded.

“Yes… so, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Luz smiled and before she could think to say anything else, a voice from up above called out to her; Morton.

“Hey, Luz! The sail's fixed, so we’re gonna get going, you ready to be hauled up?”

The boat suddenly rocked violently, sloshing water and Amity vanished beneath the rippling surface just as Morton stuck his head over the edge up above her.

Luz blinked at the water where she had vanished before turning up to the deckhand and nodding.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” she called, frowning and Morton nodded.

“Hey Hooty, come help me haul up Luz!” She heard him call, followed by an excited yell of agreement. A second later she was being hauled quickly up the side of the ship but her eyes were glued to the water below. A shadow moved through its depths before disappearing.

The second she hit the deck she grabbed her book and her fish and hurried off down to the kitchens.

~ ~ ~

A week later, Luz was still thinking about her meeting with Amity and wondering if the mermaid had left now that she had finally said what she wanted to Luz. They had been sailing along at a quick clip, heading towards Eda’s favorite place in all the seven seas; The Boiling Isles.

A collection of islands in one of the more dangerous areas of the sea. It housed a number of ramshackle little towns and bases, the majority of its residents being of the… non-law-abiding variety.

They managed to knock over a couple of merchant's vessels along the way and finally got a hoard that Eda was happy with, so she declared that they could take a couple week's rest and they returned to their own little reinforced hamlet in one of the Isles' many coves.

It was dark when Luz threw her things down in the meager shack nestled between Eda’s and Viney’s before heading back out to the beach. The moon was full and cast enough light in the clear sky that she could see just fine. It was late but the rest of the crew was in full swing of a drunken stupor and the yelling and screaming of their revelry echoed out into the bright, starlit night; there wasn’t going to be any sleep even if she wanted to.

Instead, she picked her way over the large black rocks that lined the shore and led out into the water. Her steps were careful, the lapping waves making the rocks slick in places but this was hardly her first time.

It wouldn't be her first time falling in either, and probably wouldn't be the last either.

Still, with her sketchbook firmly in one hand and a small bundle of goodies in the other, she made sure not to step anywhere the moonlight bounced off the wet stones before settling herself onto a large, flat rock that jutted out over the water. She flipped it open and grabbed the charcoal laying between it’s pages.

After the other day, she had a much clearer picture in her head and set to sketching. It was kinda rough at first. It had been a few days but she’d had a dream about glinting, blue-green scales and sharp ears.

She really wished she had some way to color it. Black just didn’t seem to do the lines justice; it would have to do though.

The distant sounds of her crew drinking and singing were nothing more than a whisper over the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the rock. She was zoning out, tongue poking out of her mouth as she worked carefully to get a line just right when a splash, not loud but distinctly louder than the rest, made her look up.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she caught the pair of dimly glowing, gold eyes staring back at her from the other side of the rock.

“Amity!” She jerked, scrambling to the edge of the rock as the mermaid lifted further out of the water as she approached.

“Hi, Luz.” She smiled up at her and Luz couldn’t help but think how pretty she was when she wasn't snarling and growling at her anyway.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, setting her book to the side, careful to keep it away from the water dripping off Amity as she leaned her arms on the rock.

“I… uh…,” she mumbled, claws clicking on the rock as she tried to think of something to say and Luz couldn’t help the smile working its way onto her face.

“Did you follow us here?” she asked and grinned wider at the pale pink that seemed to break across Amity’s face. “Not that I’m complaining about seeing you again but don’t you have anything better to do than follow around a bunch of grumpy pirates?” she laughed.

Amity grew quiet at that and Luz frowned at the sudden tight look in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly. Amity seemed to hesitate before looking up at her.

“I don’t know how to get back home,” she quietly admitted. “I don’t know how long I was in that box or even what direction it went,” she mumbled, voice tight and Luz’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought about that.

They had been chasing that ship non-stop for the better part of a month and there was no telling how long Amity had been on board beforehand. She could be hundreds of thousands of miles from where she started.

“You don’t have any idea where you came from?” Luz asked and Amity shook her head, eyes trained on the rock beneath her. Her claws creating little gouges in the stone as she clenched her hands. Luz didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry’ seemed sorely lacking but what else could she say?

“Do you want some candy?” was the next thing to pop out of her mouth and Amity looked up at her, questioningly.

“Can..dy?” she repeated the unfamiliar word and Luz nodded and scrambled back over to where she had left the little cloth-wrapped bundle. She snatched it up and hurried back over to Amity, sitting cross-legged in front of her as she untied the knot. A small pile of crystalline-coated fruits rolled around in her lap as she looked through them before selecting one and holding it out to Amity.

“It’s a type of human food. It’s sweet and they're really tasty. This one is my favorite,” she offered it out and the mermaid hesitated a moment before plucking the rock-like food from Luz’s palm. She hesitated, eyes darting up to look at Luz, searching and the human just smiled.

She popped it into her mouth and paused.

Luz watched her, silently, feeling herself grin as Amity’s eyes widened, sparkling with awe and delight. Her amazement doubled as she watched the two pointed ears twitch and it was maybe the cutest thing Luz had ever seen.  

“It’s… really good,” she mumbled around the treat, face breaking out in a smile. Her tail flipped out of the water, to flick lazily this way and that, sending droplets of water into the air.

“Right?” Luz asked with a chuckle as she popped one into her own mouth and set them on the rock in front of her, within Amity’s reach. Gold eyes flicked up at her, a silent question and Luz smiled. That seemed to be all the encouragement she needed to grab another.

“So, what are you going to do?” she asked and Amity frowned around her treat.

“I don’t know yet…” she admitted and Luz pursed her lips.

“Well, you’re welcome to hang out here with me till you do,” she offered and Amity looked up at her.

“Okay…,” she nodded.

They sat there for the next few hours as the moon made its way across the sky, talking. Luz told Amity about all the different places she had been and things she’d done since joining Eda’s crew. It amused Luz how fascinated she was by the simplest of human things. Some things, like ships she was familiar with but anything on land was new and wondrous to her and Luz happily explained everything to her; as best she understood it anyway.

“What’s that?” amity pointed a finger to the book in her hand.

“Oh! It’s my sketchbook.” She flipped the pages open to show Amity some sketches of the crew and a few animals.

“Oh…”

She flipped through a few more pages, Amity asking questions about the things like the horses, and dogs sprawled across it’s pages. Luz was hardly paying attention to the pages, more content to watch Amity’s face light up at each new drawing.

Till she flipped the page and Amity blinked.

“Is that… me?” she asked.

“Huh?” Luz leaned the book back and felt her face heat up as she stared down at her first, rough sketch of the mermaid. “Oh…. uh… yeah,” she finally said and reached up to rub the back of her neck nervously. She hadn’t meant to show her those.

“It doesn’t look finished…,” was all she said.

“No, I started this right after…”

You mauled me.

She wasn’t gonna say that!

“...after we met. I couldn’t remember everything well enough, so I gave up on it.” she shrugged as they lapsed into, what felt to Luz, tense silence. The gentle sound of the surf breaking against the rocks and shore was the only sound for a long few moments.  

“What about now?” she asked and Luz blinked at her. Her confusion must have been apparent because she carried on. “Do you think you could finish it now?” she asked, looking up at Luz, eyes filled with such bright curiosity and wonder that it made her breath stutter in her chest.

“Yeah… I think so,” she nodded. “I’ll work on it,” she promised and Amity nodded, seemingly indifferent but Luz could see the subtle rise at the corners of her mouth.

Eventually, the hour grew quite late, or early, and Luz noticed that the sounds of her crew had petered out into silence, no doubt they had all passed out by now. She herself was growing tired now.

Amity noticed too as her head started to bob down to her chest more and more often, eyes drifting closed.

“You should sleep…,” she said as Luz let out a jaw-splitting yawn and nodded drowsily. She stood and stretched, back giving a satisfying pop.  

“Yeah… will you be here tomorrow?” she asked, turning her gaze back to Amity as she picked up her things.

Amity stared up at her, face a mask of surprise and wonder before she schooled it into something more neutral and nodded.

“See ya tomorrow then!” Luz called before picking her careful way back down the rocks toward the shore.

Amity watched her go.

~ ~ ~

When they were docked, everyone kind of did their own thing if there wasn’t any repair work that needed to be done to the ship, as was sometimes the case after a raid. So no one really questioned it when Luz went darting down to the sea around noon the next day after throwing a canvas bag with some things in it into one of the rowboats sitting on the shore.

No one except Eda, who was down by the water, looking at the ship.

“Where’s the fire, kid?” she asked as Luz started shoving the boat out of the sand and into the water. “Don’t you get enough sailing already?” she laughed as Luz hopped in the boat.

“Just… enjoying the peace and quiet on the water, ya know how it is!” she laughed nervously but Eda nodded.

“Be careful,” she called before walking up the plank onto the ship.

Luz picked up the oars and rowed out into the ocean. Once she’d muscled her way through the swells moving inland the open water was smooth and placid, as gentle as it ever was anyway. The peaceful, constant movement bobbed her boat gently as she threw down the anchor.

She’d never exactly discussed with Amity where they would meet but the mermaid didn’t seem to have any trouble finding her either.

She waited, listening to the sounds of the surf for a little while before a gentle splashing made her grin as a familiar head of green hair broke the surface of the water.

“Amity!” Luz grinned down at her.

“Hi, Luz,” the mermaid smiled up at her shyly, brushing a few strands of wet hair out of her face.

“Where did you stay last night… Do mermaids even sleep? She asked, tapping a finger to her chin, suddenly curious and Amity snorted.  

“Yes, I sleep. I stayed in the coral reef below us,” she said.

“There's a coral reef below us?” Luz asked wide-eyed and Amity nodded. This was the first time she had heard of it but then again, she wasn’t surprised her crewmates didn't appear to know about it. One of the most surprising things she'd learned as a pirate was that a great majority of sailors couldn’t swim or were even afraid of the ocean. That was just crazy to Luz, she loved to swim.

That little fact was one of the reasons Eda often put her on duties that took her very near or in the water. As far as she knew, herself, Hooty, and Viney were the only members of the crew that would get within ten feet of water deeper than their waist.

“As in, directly below us?” she asked, and again, Amity nodded. “Can you show me?” she asked and Amity’s eyes widened.

“You can swim?” she asked, seeming to peer over the edge of the boat at Luz’s legs, looking in disbelief. That only made the pirate laugh.

“Of course I can swim. I am an excellent swimmer!” she jerked a thumb toward herself but faltered. “I mean, not even half as good as you probably, but for a human, I'm great!” She asserted and Amity giggled under her breath.

“Okay, I’ll show you,” she nodded and Luz dumped her canvas bag out, pushing everything under one of the slatted benches to keep out of the sun and slung it over her shoulder.

“Why do you need that?” Amity questioned as she moved around.

“Coral makes great medicine, the ship's doctor, Viney, crushes it up to use in ointments and stuff. She mentioned we were running low and would need to stock back up before we left the Isles. I can kill two birds with one stone!” she explained.

“Why would you kill birds?” The mermaid cocked her head.

“It's just an expression, nevermind that. Let’s go!” She grinned before taking a deep breath and diving over the side of the boat, into the water with a loud splash.

Luz opened her eyes and the water briefly stung but she was pretty used to it and glanced around before finding Amity, looking at her curiously and she grinned, careful not to let out any air or let water in.

She definitely wasn’t as good a swimmer as Amity, whose every movement propelled her quickly through the water with ease, down toward the ocean floor.

They weren’t too far out, so the water wasn’t terribly deep here and she got down there quick enough. She could see all the brightly colored plants and fish moving about the coral. She dug the knife out of her bag and quickly set about cutting off some of the long branches before the burning in her lungs made her shove both back inside and move quickly back toward the light.

She broke the surface with a gasp, panting as she sucked in large lungfuls of air.

“Are you okay?”

She glanced over at Amity, who had surfaced next to her and she nodded.

“Yeah, it's just deep enough that I can get there for just a minute before I need air,” she huffed, finally getting her breath back.

Amity hummed before grabbing her hand, making Luz blink.

“Hold your breath,” she instructed and Luz did so just before she was pulled under and they were moving quickly through the water toward the ocean floor.

The water rushed past her face as Amity pulled her down.

Yeah, definitely not even half as good a swimmer as her.

She was able to cut off a good bit and stuff it in her bag before she had to resurface again.

“That was way faster!” she turned to Amity and grinned. “You are a good swimmer!” Luz laughed.

Amity’s face seemed to color some at that and she shrugged.

Luz tossed her bag into the boat before taking a breath and diving back under. Moving back toward the bottom before a hand wrapped around hers and pulled her down to the bottom. The water rushing past her was exhilarating.

As was the hand wrapped firmly around hers and the blurry grin she could see on Amity’s face through the bubbles.

When she finally came to a stop, she grabbed hold of the coral to stay anchored and couldn't help but smile at all the colorful little fish and bright plants that moved about. She reached out to touch a cobalt bluefish but it quickly darted out of her reach.

They spent a long while exploring the depths around the shore before Luz finally had to climb, exhausted, back into the boat, flopping onto the floor. She was exhausted but didn’t wanna head back in yet.

Amity laid her arms on the sides of the boat and it dipped a little, making Luz slide toward her and she laughed, sitting back up.

“Oh, I brought you something” Luz pulled her things out from under the bench and unwrapped it. Amity peered at her curiously as she held out… something.

“It’s sweet bread,” Luz explained as Amity took it. “They were selling them over by the docks. I thought you might like to try it.”

She watched Amity take a tentative bite… quickly followed by several more.

“Good, right?” she asked, still holding her own in her hand. Amity nodded as she polished off the rest of hers quickly. Her eyes darted to Luz’s and she couldn’t help but grin and hold it out.

“That’s yours…” Amity frowned.

“I can get more later,” Luz assured her, still holding her hand out. Amity still hesitated but Luz just patiently held out the treat and after a moment she finally took it and devoured it like the first.

“Thanks,” she mumbled and Luz just grinned, pushing back the wet hair that had fallen in her face. Amity watched her intently.

“What?” Luz cocked her head and watched the mermaid's face flush.  

“Nothing!”  

“Uh, okay?” Luz blinked.

They spent the rest of the afternoon sitting there, talking and enjoying each other’s company before Luz finally had to go back in.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” she called with a wide smile as she rowed back toward the shore.

“Bye, Luz,” Amity waved, then vanished under the waves, tail flipping out of the water for a moment before she was gone.

Luz felt her heart stutter in her chest.

~ ~ ~

The two weeks they spent docked on the Isles seemed to fly by for Luz. She woke early and got all the things she needed to do for the day out of the way and then made a beeline for the water.

She spent hours at a time bobbing along in the rowboat with Amity and always made sure to bring her treats from the little market in the Isles ‘capital’ Bonesburough.

The mermaid had proven to have quite a sweet tooth.

She often brought Luz things too, from the ocean floor. She’d amassed a small trove of gemstones, pearls, and shells that Amity had picked up out of the sands deep below them.

Luz laid, floating on her back on the water. Amity had her head laid across her stomach, her eyes closed. Where she was so heavy on land, she was nearly weightless in the water.  

Her head on Luz’s abdomen did funny things to her stomach and she briefly wondered in the back of her mind if it was weird… to have a crush on a mermaid.

It took her a week to figure it out. Once she got past the awe of a real living mermaid hanging around with her, a sense of giddy excitement had remained and it was only after talking to Viney, very vaguely, that she came to realize just why being around Amity made it feel like she didn’t know what to say or do with herself.

She still wasn’t really sure what to do. Could you have feelings for a mermaid? She didn’t have any reference for a regular crush, much less one on a mythical creature.

Not to mention the fact that Amity was… amazing and wonderful. Why would she ever want a regular old human like her? She pushed all those thoughts away for now.

“So, we’re setting sail first thing in the morning,” she said and glanced up to see Amity’s eyes open, looking back at her.

“You’re leaving the Isles?” she asked and Luz nodded.

“Eda got news of another ship that's going to be sailing near here soon and… well, she wants what’s on it.” She waved a hand.

Amity hummed, tail flicking out of the water quickly. Luz had started to pick up on her bodily mannerisms and the quicker than normal flicking of her back fins, though not so fast as to indicate annoyance, told Luz that she was, maybe, a little upset.

“How long would you be gone?” she asked quietly and Luz gave a little half-shrug.

“Could be a couple of weeks or a couple of months. It depends.”

“I could follow the ship…?” she offered and Luz had thought of that but she had thought of a few other things also. To what end was Amity sticking with her?

True, she didn’t know how to get back home but she couldn’t follow her forever… even if Luz kind of wanted her to.

“Is it safe for you to do that?” she asked, finally moving to float upright, next to Amity. “It can’t be safe for you to be out in open water all the time, can it?” she asked and Amity frowned, gaze skittering anywhere but on Luz. She’d told her a story or two about having to hide from sharks and things, which made Luz worry.

That wasn't the only thing that bothered Luz though. It would be much harder to get down to the water to see Amity, which only elevated the chances of someone seeing them and Luz still lived very much in fear that if Eda or the rest of the crew found out about her they would try to sell her.

“It’s… not the safest option,” Amity admitted.

“Then… maybe you should stay here while I’m gone…?” Luz offered and Amity’s frown deepened, as well as the quick back and forth of her tail.

“If you don't want me to come along then just tell me so, Luz,” she rumbled and Luz frowned.

“No, no. It’s not that I don't want you around, I do…!” she quickly hurried to say. She did. She very much wanted Amity around. Amity was the only thing that seemed to occupy her mind these last two weeks. Not to mention how badly Luz wanted to kiss her every time she smiled.

She quickly shoved that thought away and rested her hand on Amity’s shoulder.

“I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you, Amity.”

Reluctantly, Amity nodded and Luz smiled sadly at her.

“I’ll be back before you know it.. Oh! I have something to show you!” she smiled and crawled back into the boat, shaking off as much water as she could before she went digging through her bag. “Look at this!” She pulled out her sketchbook and turned the pages, careful not to drip on it before she turned it around to show her.

Amity’s eyes widened as she stared at the clean, smooth sketch staring back at her from familiar eyes.

Her own.

Luz’s sketch covered two pages and was done in the most excruciating detail. Every line and curve was sharp and clean. Each scale was accounted for on the length of her tail and every gem and accouterment on her wrap in its place.

“What do you think?” Luz asked, grinning proudly to herself. It had its flaws of course. She was still learning but it was a pretty good likeness of the mermaid if she did say so herself.  

“It’s beautiful, Luz.” Amity said, quietly, eyes still darting across every dark line.

“Ah, thanks. It kinda pales in comparison to the real thing but,” Luz shrugged, grinning sheepishly at her as she leaned over the side of the boat with the book.  

Gold eyes turned upward to her and seemed to stare back at her for a long moment, something behind them seemed to flicker and the next thing Luz knew, she tasted saltwater and all she could see was Amity.

It took her far too long to realize what was happening and when she did, Amity had already pulled back and was staring back at her, face pink and looking unsure.

Luz just stared back, mouth hanging open.

Amity had just kissed her.

Luz’s jaw moved soundlessly, unsure what to say. She’d been thinking about it but she hadn’t even entertained the idea of just… doing it.

“I…” she managed to get out but not much else before the pink across Amity’s face turned red.

“I’m sorry!” she suddenly squeaked and then turned and disappeared under the water.

“Wait, Amity!” Luz tossed her book aside and dove overboard, into the water but already, Amity’s form was becoming a blurry spot in the distance. She would never catch her.

Luz resurfaced, hands tightening into fists.

“Mierda!” She slapped her hands across the surface of the water.

~ ~ ~

Luz sighed to herself, not for the first time that day as the ship moved through the seemingly endless expanse of sea. The sky was dark and gray, promising storms; much like her mood.

They had been at sea for four days now and she hadn’t seen Amity since she had swam off. She hadn’t been waiting in the usual spot the next morning when she’d run down to the shore before they had set sail.

Why? Why hadn’t she said something… anything! Now, Amity probably thought she had rebuffed her when nothing could be further from the truth.

She could still feel the fleeting press of Amity’s lips on hers and she really wanted a do over there! She’d been taken by surprise!

Who knew if Amity would even still be there when she got back, or even want to see her. A cool, gust of wind whipped through the air and she sighed again, staring down at the water.

“You okay, Kid?”

Luz looked up to see Eda walking up to her, frowning and Luz frowned.

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Is it your lady friend?” Eda asked and Luz’s head shot up, jaw hanging open.

“How did you…?” she started and Eda grinned.

“Come on, Luz, I was young once. I used to sneak off at all hours of the day and night once too to meet some… ‘friends’.” She said with a smirk and Luz flushed. “Also, Viney told me you came to her asking for advice,” she laughed and Luz grunted.

‘Of course she did.’ Luz thought bitterly.

“So… what happened, she turn ya down?” she asked and Luz frowned.

“No... the opposite actually… she kissed me,” Luz said.

“So why do you look like someone spit in your rum?” Eda frowned.

“She surprised me and I just… stood there!” She threw up her arms. “Then Amity sw- ran off and I couldn't find her…,” she grumbled, slouching on the railing.

“Ah, that’s tough, kid. Maybe you can talk to this ‘Amity’ girl when we get back?” she suggested.

“I dunno if she’ll even still be there when we get back,” she grumbled to herself.

“Chin up, Luz. You’ll just have to wait and see.” Eda patted her shoulder. “We should be coming up on that ship within the hour so put your game face on!” Eda said before walking away and Luz nodded.

They had a job to do.

She stood up and gave herself a shake. There was nothing she could do about Amity right now and if she didn’t get her head in the right place she might end up on the wrong end of a saber.

~ ~ ~

The rain was pouring down in sheets and thunder rumbled across the sky; the occasional streak of lightning flashing in the dark was nearly indistinguishable from the flash of the canons as they.

“Keep firing!” Eda was yelling somewhere over the din as they constantly fired shots at the galleon bobbing along only about one hundred yards away.

Luz grunted as she loaded another canon, sharp needles of icy rain stinging her face as she did and the second the shot was in place, King was firing with a strangled cry of rage.  

“We’re gaining on them!” she heard Jerbo yell from somewhere behind her and Luz squinted into the rain. The ship definitely seemed to be getting closer… but not because they were gaining on it.

“Eda!” she whipped around to scream. “They’re heading straight for us!”

Sure enough, the ship had turned and was making a line straight for them through the storm.

“Prepare for a fight!”

They fired at the ship still till it all but rammed right into them, the force of the impact nearly sending everyone aboard stumbling to their feet.

“We’re being boarded!” someone yelled and thick boards clattered down across the expanse of sea between the two ships and the next thing Luz knew, fighting had broken out on the deck.

Shots rang out, almost muffled by the thunder.

Hooty had swung down from the crow's nest and went sailing right into a naval officer trying to board them, sending him into the dark waters below before he dropped onto the deck to grab the nearest barrel and chuck it into more trying to cross.

“Ha ha!” the man laughed crazily as Luz ducked under his next projectile. He still had both eyepatches pulled down over his eyes as he flung cargo around like it was made of paper.

Luz drew her knife; she hated this part of pirating.

A grappling hook flung over the railing, hooking in it and Luz rushed over and sliced the rope, sending the man on the other end plunging into the water with a scream.

She looked around, water running into her eyes and blinding her.

She could very easily see the man on the boarding planks, leveling his pistol at Eda, standing in the middle of the deck and firing shots.

“Eda, look out!”

She was much closer to him and jumped onto the planks and rammed herself into him, he tattered back over the edge, but not before his hand fisted into Luz’s soaked shirt and then she was plummeting into the dark water below with him.

She barely had time to scream before she hit the water and water rushed into her mouth.

She kicked up to the surface and sucked in a gulp of air before a wave broke over her head, forcing her back under.

It was dark and everything was moving too fast. She barely had a second where she was able to surface before more water rushed back over her, pulling her deeper into the water.

Then, she was pulled too far under and she could feel her lungs burning as she tried to swim back to the surface, only to be dragged down by the undertow.

She couldn’t hold her breath any longer and her mouth opened of its own volition. She sucked in a lungful of water and choked. Everything was going black as her eyes drifted closed.

A flash of green from the corner of her eye was the last thing she saw before the darkness overcame her.

~ ~ ~

Luz was vaguely aware of someone calling her name.

It was distant at first but steadily growing louder.

“Luz!”

Her eyes slowly slid open, everything was blurry at first but quickly coming back into focus as she stared up at Eda’s concerned face.

“Eda…?” she gurgled and the captain sighed in relief.

“I thought you were a goner, Kid,” she said, sliding a hand under Luz’s back and helping her sit up. Luz coughed, spitting up some water.

It was still dark and the thunder rumbled overhead but the rain had stopped.

“Did we win?” she asked, groggily looking around. The crew was moving about, cleaning up the mess that often accompanied the end of a battle.

“Sure did! Sunk them suckers to the bottom of the ocean! Got an extra prize out of it too, thanks to you!” Eda grinned and Luz blinked at her.

“Whaddaya mean?”  she asked and Eda only continued to grin as she stood and helped Luz to her feet.

“I’ll show ya,” she jerked her head and Luz followed her across the deck and down into the hold. “We couldn’t find you and I was… the crew was afraid you’d drowned… till something pulled you up…”

“Something…? Luz asked as they rounded the corner of some crates down below and came face to face with the last person she expected to see.

Amity.  

She was strung up in the rafters in a net and looked absolutely miserable till her eyes fell and Luz. Gold eyes lit up and she sat up best she could in the tangled net.

“Ay dios mio!” Luz darted forward.

Eda blinked as Luz ran across the room to the net hanging off the floor.

Luz’s fingers tangled in the nets' holes. “Are you okay!?” Luz cried.

“I’m okay…” Amity’s fingers wrapped around hers through the netting.

“What are you doing here?” Luz hissed and Amity frowned.

“I… followed when you left. I wanted to tell you I was sorry for what happened…”

“No!” she all but yelled, making the mermaid jerk. “Don’t be sorry! It was my fault… you surprised me is all…,” she mumbled.

“Okay, what’s going on.” Eda walked up behind her. “That thing can talk and you know it.” Eda frowned.

“It’s not an it! This is Amity…,” Luz admitted.

“Wait… Amity like, your lady friend, Amity?” Eda blinked owlishly at her and Luz pinked but nodded. “The mermaid?” she gestured and again Luz nodded.

Eda stared at her for a long hard moment.

“You have some strange and exotic tastes, Kid…,” she finally said and Luz flushed darker. “Explains why she hauled you out of the ocean… we got both of you in the net cause she wouldn’t let go… I figured we’d sell her at the next port city…”

“No!” Luz jumped in and Eda reared back at that. “Please, Eda, no!” Luz begged. “She’s… important to me.”

Eda looked at her for a long time, amber gaze flickering back up at the mermaid hanging in the net, fingers still wrapped around Luz’s and sighed heavily.

“Fine. If you hadn’t shoved that boot licker off the plank I’d have a new air hole and The Owl Lady doesn’t leave her debts unpaid. I’ll get Hooty and we’ll toss her back into the sea.” Eda grumbled before turning on heel and walking out of the hold.

Luz breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to Amity.

“Why did you let yourself get captured?” Luz asked with a frown.

“I couldn’t let you drown!” Amity shot back and Luz sighed.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” she finally said, fingers tightening around Amity’s.

“You… you’re not upset about the other day?” she mumbled, looking at Luz from beneath her lashes.

“No, I’m not upset, you just surprised me… I…,” Luz pursed her lips, trying to think of the words to say. “I like you too… a lot,” she admitted. “But… I don't think it’s safe for you to just be following the ship day and night,” she said and Amity frowned but didn’t argue, Luz was right. She ran the risk of being captured like she was today.

“I don’t wanna wait at the Isles for you to come back for so long at a time,” she mumbled and Luz frowned, thinking.

There had to be something they could do.

A sudden thought struck her.

“I think I have an idea!” she grinned and Amity blinked.

When Eda came strolling back down the stairs with Hooty in tow Luz turned to her.

“Eda! I have a proposition for you!” she said, a toothy grin stretched across her face. Eda cocked a brow at the young woman; intrigued. She was a businesswoman afterall.  

“Oh yeah? I’m listening…”

~ ~ ~

Luz bounced with barely contained energy as she stood next to Eda on the deck, the crew standing before them.

“Alright, all y'all listen up. We have a new crew member joining us, so if you’ll turn your attention to the starboard side…,” she trailed off and the confused looking crew did just that, only to find the mermaid they had captured, down in the water, looking up at them nervously and giving a tentative wave.

“Wait.. what?” Viney looked over at the captain, who grinned.

“Yup, you’re looking at our newest ‘deck’ hand.” she fingers quoted. “In charge of collecting all your medicinal water plants and all manner of things from the ocean floor,” Eda said, rolling around a handful of pearls Amity had brought up as proof of her usefulness.

“Welcome aboard!” Hooty grinned and waved enthusiastically down at her.

“Do… do you think he even realizes she’s a mermaid….?” Viney leaned over and whispered to Luz, who shrugged.  

“Alright, now get back to work, we’re setting sail!” Eda called and once their surprised stupors had passed the crew jumped to attention, still murmuring amongst themselves about their newest crewmate.

Once they had dispersed, Luz threw down a rope and slid down to the water where Amity was waiting for her.

“So, ready to start life as a pirate?” she asked with a grin.

“I guess we’ll find out,” she smiled.

“You’ll be great! At night we’ll haul you up top, Hooty got a big barrel for you for now. Just till we figure something else out so you can be safe at night,” she said and Amity nodded.

“Luz, we're going!” King called down gruffly.

“I’m coming!” she called back before turning back to Amity. “I’ll see you later, okay?” she asked and Amity nodded. “Oh! One more thing,” Luz said.

“Wha-” Before she could even finish that sentence Luz darted forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. When she pulled back she was grinning, but the dark tint to her cheeks betrayed her, though she was pleased to see a similar splash of red coloring Amity’s cheeks. “Now I'll see you later.” She grinned.

“Luz!” Eda’s voice called from up top.

“Coming, I’m coming!” she called, shooting another look at Amity before climbing back up the rope.