#swimming pool paint colours

[andrecoatings]

BG Pool Paint Kit – Ocean Blue

Buy Online Ocean Blue BG Pool Paint kit

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Can be used on ponds as well as other aquatic facilities

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Developed in Australia and made for Australia conditions

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https://youtu.be/EWF_-OR_G6I

[theartofsarahjohnston]

🌴 another one of my original paintings framed in ash

[thealtoduck]

Headcanons for Children of minor Goddesses…

(Nephele, Psyche, Ino/Leucothea)

——

Nephele (Cloud Goddess of hospitality, generosity, loyalty, peace and shyness)

They tend to have hair as fluffy as the clouds.

Their cabin is simple on the outside but very comfortable on the inside. The furniture has a cloud theme and is known to be very comfortable.

Since Nephele was molded by Zeus from a cloud to be in the image of Hera a lot of Nephele’s children share features with the Queen of the Gods. Because of this Hera has a small soft spot for children of Nephele.

Because they are half-siblings with the centaurs they occasionally receive party invitations from them. To which Chiron always advices them not to go because of how… wild centaurs get.

They don’t have that many poweful abilities but their powers are still helpful.

They have the ability to induce a feeling of peace and relaxation with their presence.

They can physically touch clouds and stand/sit/lay on them.

They are known to be one of the most peaceful cabins at camp and are usually not very strong fighters.

They prefer to help out in the infirmary with the Apollo cabin, their powers helping the injured relax through the pain.

Song I associate with them:

——

Psyche (Goddess of the soul)

They are very beatiful, no suprises there…

There’s also not very many of them as Psyche prefers to stay faithful to Eros, though they do show up every now and then… there’s usually no more than one at camp at a time.

When they are claimed a set of butterfly wings show up on their back. They don’t actually work though it’s just for symbolism.

Their cabin is decorated with a stained glass window of Psyche and Eros. The inside has invisible servants, just like Eros and Psyche’s palace.

Speaking of Eros, he loves Psyche’s demigods even if they are not his and sends them gifts on their birthday. Step-Dad of the year.

Putting aside their mothers feud they get along suprisingly well with Aphrodite’s cabin.

They usually wear colorful clothes and accessories to express their emotions or mood that day.

They have empathic powers, and can see the colour of people’s souls as if they were mood rings. And through touch they can stronger sense what might be effecting someone’s emotions.

Their empathic abilities make them basically lie detectors as they can both see and feel when a person is lying.

They are VERY resilient. If you give them a mission they will finish it and come back even if they lose all their limbs in the process.

They are very loving and caring and are willing to go to Hades and back for the ones they love.

Song I associate with them:

——

Ino/Leucothea (Goddess of the sailors)

One of the common feature Leucothea’s children share is that they have dewy skin.

Their cabin is mainly nautical themed on the outside and on the walls on the inside, there’s a wall painting detailing Ino’s transformation to Leucothea. The furniture and beds take inspiration from that of old cruise liners, such as the Titanic.

The floor of the cabin can also open up to a indoor pool, where they can practice their swimming or just hang out if they feel like it.

Compared to most other children of sea deities they can come off as rather arrogant and snobby, no one know specifically why this is.

As for their powers and abilities:

They are all expert sailors, they know how to use any type of boat, just by instinct.

They are all expert swimmers and can swim at very high speeds (using hydrokinesis to boost themselves).

Minor hydrokinesis, they can mainly only control the water around them while they’re actually in the water. They struggle to do it out of water but with pratice they can learn to do that too, though not to the degree of someone like Percy.

They can breathe underwater and are unaffected by any amount of pressure changes.

Like Percy they also have a nautical sense and know their exact location and coordinates when they’re out on the water.

A lot of them chose to use celestial bronze cutlasses over regular swords.

Song I associate them with:

[novlr]

How to write the heat?

Quick Tips on How to Write Heat

Heat can have many connotations in your stories beyond just temperature. It can be a sensation, an event, or even a metaphor for something else. The way a character internalises or experiences heat will also be unique to them, so here are some quick tips on how to use imagery to convey heat in a variety of ways.

In Nature

Use colours like red, yellow, or orange

Parched scenery, like cracked earth and dry leaves

Bright sunlight

Mirages

Blistering winds

Heat waves radiating from hot asphalt

Animals huddling in the shade

Wide and barren landscapes

Hot sand to contrast with cool water

Wilting vegetation and a change in colour

The sound of cicadas

Foods and Objects

Hot peppers with bright colours

Spicy dishes (and how characters handle them)

Melting ice cream and frozen drinks

The sizzling sound of food in a hot pan

The smell of a barbeque

Cold drinks that provide relief

Flip flops, shorts, and tank tops

Sunscreen and hats

Metal and leather that is too hot to touch

Salt or minerals left on surfaces after liquid evaporates

Faded colours on objects left in the sun

Peeling paint

The hiss of steam from a kettle

Character Moods

Short-tempered

Lazy

Discomfort

Easily frustrated

Disinterested

Relaxed

Energised

Joyful

Exhausted

Adventurous

Anxious

Fearful

Irritable

Lethargic

Contemplative

Restless

Overwhelmed

Rejuvenated

Impatient

Distracted

Apprehensive

Isolated

Embarrassed

Motivated

Character Body Language

Wiping sweat from their faces

Fanning themselves

Shifting uncomfortable

Sluggish movements

Licking lips and swallowing due to dehydration

Shedding layers of clothing

Unconsciously moving toward the shade

Constantly drinking

Breathing heavily

Squinting or shielding eyes

Flushed skin

Panting or shallow breathing

Avoiding physical contact

Actions and Events

Seeking shelter during a heatwave

Roadtrips in a hot car with the windows open

Swimming at a pool, lake, or a beach

Sharing drinks with friends at a cafe, bar, or beer garden

Planning holidays to cooler climates

Staying indoors to read to watch TV where it’s cool

Watching the sunset or sunrise when it’s cooler

Going out at night to avoid the heat of the day

Beach parties and barbeques

Wildfire warnings

Outdoor markets and garage sales

Camping trips

Positive Aspects

Heat can be a time of joy, where families and friends can enjoy time together doing outdoor activities not available to them the rest of the year. Food becomes lighter, the days are longer, and people tend to get more exercise. There are also positive ways to describe the juxtaposition of something hot after immediately experiencing the cold, like a hot drink on a cold day.

Negative Aspects

Not every association with heat is positive. Hot weather brings environmental damage like droughts and wildfires that affect agriculture and wildlife. It can also lead to physical discomfort, like heat rash, dehydration, sunburn, sleep disruption, or being forced to work or exercise in uncomfortable environments.

Helpful Synonyms

Scorching

Blistering

Temperate

Boiling

Fiery

Burning

Inferno

Glowing

Simmering

Sweltering

Torrid

Steaming

Tropical

Flaming

Feverish

Stifling

Roasting

Searing

Tropical

Radiant

Common metaphors

Passion or desire

Anger and conflict

Pressure or stress

Excitement and energy

Change or transformation

Danger or warning

Life and vitality

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Team work makes the dream work!

A shout out to all the players on team-merman for @ourflagonmax @rafaelvalladao 3D sculpted our scales in brazil. @metmobile printed the scales here in our studio and @an.introduction.to our master mould maker made fibreglass moulds into which we began casting casting and more casting…. 3000 individual scales in multiple colours with an array of glitters from @mysticartglitters … so so so much GLITTER! How cute does my man @metmobile look, delicately dusting glitter into scale moulds 😍

Then our lovely @homemade_byaline would come to the studio every evening and patiently trim excess silicone off scales with teeny tiny nail scissors late into the night. While this was all going on @thecreativetradecollective babes lent a hand with meticulously painting silicone scales onto our lycra tail skins (sewn and airbrushed by yours truely of course)

The idea was to have a combo of hand painted silicone scales and fully cast silicone scales. The end result was SEAMLESS!!! And again…. more glitter.

And I basically had my fingers in all these pies, sculpting, painting, sewing, liaising with our talented designer @gypsytaylor , casting, mixing, sparkling, sourcing, delegating, sleeping (no… no not sleeping!!!) Ironically myself and @an.introduction.to probably did the most hours, but we didn't get any fun posey photos with our work!!!

Always the way!!!!

And last but not least, we had a freediver Jose come and test run our fishy wares in my swimming pool (my neighbours must think I'm so weird!)… more photos to come of our resident merman.

source: hayleyegandesign on instagram

[pekoehoneyncream]

Captain John 'Bravo Six' Price Headcanons

Part One!

Words: 500~

TW: None (sfw)

Part Two

Okay! Here are the promised headcanons!

The brainrot is intense for these boys rn, so the volume of headcanons kinda got outta hand. I didn't wanna slam y'all with the full 800+ words of headcanons that I've made for Price alone, so I decided that I'll post half now and half later.

That said, Thank you all again for the Huge response my poll got, and without further ado onto the The Headcanons!

His preferred drink is Green Tea with a spoonful of honey. He loves getting to sit, relax, and slowly sip his way through a nice hot cup of tea. If he’s in a rush or just needs to wake up he drinks coffee instead.

Takes his coffee with the smallest bit of sugar and no milk. His team argues that three grains of sugar can't make any difference, but Price insists that he doesn't like coffee straight black, he needs that bit of sweetness. The team once tested him by switching out his coffee for an identical cup of straight black coffee. Price's disgusted spluttering showed them that he can indeed easily taste the difference.

Cannot just sit down and do nothing. Always needs to be doing something. This man is a category five putterer. Just goes about absently neatening up, putting things back where they belong, pulling books forward to be level with the edge of the shelf, squaring papers with the corner of the table, wiping down the surfaces, adjusting his kit so it’s settled properly. He’ll do the same to the team as well. Mindlessly untwisting straps, pulling tight buckles, zipping pouches, pulling down the rucked-up hem of Ghost’s mask, straightening Gaz’s cap, correcting a stray hair in Soap’s warhawk.

The absolute worst at remembering names, constantly asking the team what this or that person's name is. Has a little notebook full of reminders that are only useful to him, the privates and FNGs think he's marking down performance notes, but he's just desperately trying to remember that one rookie's name before they leave eyesight. “Price, this just says ‘Michaels - Red Hat’, do you expect him to always wear a red hat?” “No, but I remember the hat, then I remember the face that was wearing the hat, and that face is Michaels'.” “Price, that makes no sense.” “Give that back and get. Have you nothing better to do? Go on, get!”

Paints his nails. He got a voucher for a free spa day as a birthday present one year, it included hot-rock therapy, mud-baths, a massage, and a mani-pedi. He went into it with a ‘fuck it, when in rome’ mentality and just said yes to everything while he was there. They explained that gel-polish is hardier and longer lasting than regular polish, without being super hard to remove like acrylics, so he went with gel-polish. At the time he just got a clear polish, but these days he does it himself and wears whatever colours he wants to. Has his own polishes and his own little uv lamp and everything. He could die on a mission tomorrow, he doesn't have time for your small minded ideas about masculinity. Before he was Captain of the 141, he actually got written up by a superior, not for wearing polish, but for wearing a nail-polish colour that wasn't a colour that's in regulation.

Loves water. Yes in the staying hydrated sense, but mainly in the swimming sense. He grew up with a creek behind his house and he spent every spare moment he could splashing around in it. To this day his favourite place is the beach, or anywhere with a body of water. A swimming pool is a poor replacement in his opinion, but he'll take what he can get.

Constantly loses track of time in the shower, his personal water bill is consistently exorbitant. When he doesn't have time to spare he sets a timer, when it beeps at 5 minutes it reminds him he needs to actually start washing up, and when it goes off at 10 minutes he forces himself to get out. When he has the time he sets the timer for 30 minutes.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you have any thoughts on the headcanons or ideas you'd like me expand on or things you wanna squeal about or prompts you want me to write PLEASE hit me up! My ask box is open 24/7 and I'd love to hear from you!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗜𝗖 𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗗 - part six max verstappen x girlfriend! driver! reader (angst + fluff, minor smut) “. . . Where have you been?”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( previous | first )

"Oh my lord Max." You laughed watching your boyfriend jump in the pool. He was most definitely drunk, because he was fully clothed. The reason why he was in the pool was because literally. "You're so hot, hotter than the sun." "But you're hugging the sun, aren't you going to catch fire?" "Oh shit! I'm on fire!" Splash!

You laughed looking at the boy who was treading at the edge with his eyes looking at you with the most loving gaze. You were quick to get on your knees and try to reach for the blond. Alcohol does not mix with water. "Maxie, take my hand." "No, I don't wanna be on fire."

He swam ( more like paddling like a puppy ) away from you. You were getting a good laugh out of this, setting your wine glass down and getting a spare towel. "Maxie stop running away." "I want to live." He replied as he escaped you once more.

You slipped into the pool swimming after him, finally catching him and pulling him out. "Noooo." Max whined as you wrapped the towel around him. "My sun went out." He sighed looking at you, leaning into your embrace. You laughed rubbing his shoulder to comfort him as you pressed small kisses on his lips.

"I'm fine, Maxie." You chuckled looking into his blue eyes that looked at you with worry, leaning your forehead against his. He smiled gently pressing a kiss to your lips. "I'll always be there for you, Maxie."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Look at that dribble." Carlos laughed as he watched you get past Daniel and Max like a pro, shooting towards the goal but ultimately missing. The three boys laughed as you looked disappointed at the empty goal. "How do you miss that?" Daniel asked wheezing on the floor.

You frowned at him, giving Carlos ( your team mate who was making fun of you ) a dirty glare. Next was Max, who was standing straight like a pencil, doing his best to hold his laugh in. "You look like shit." You scoffed at him, folding g your arms and looking away embaressed. Your insult only made all the boys die even more.

Max lost his composure falling to the floor, laughing as he pleased. Your gaze softened for a moment, you never heard him laugh this much before.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Did you know? The fans behind you, they're Y/N's fans." "I've been told, yeah." Max looked back, looking at the crowd cheering for him. A warm smile covered his face as he turned back to the interviewer. "And how does that make you feel?" "It's uh, definitely a good thing. Makes me feel like she's here with me." Max nodded looking back at the crowd singing in your native language.

When max walked back to his garage he looked at his new car for this season. Although not much has changed with the paint job and the sponsors, your racing number was on the nose of his car ( something he begged your father to have ) even though he could have the number 1 now that he won the World champion title after you left.

The pre season testing had been completed and Max can finally go home. Passing through the fan zone, Max met his and your fans alike. He took pictures and signed autographs, as well as received gifts.

Upon entering his empty apartment, the blond took refuge on the couch. The spot where he had turned into his bed, even though there was a one in perfectly good condition in the bedroom next door ( which has not been touched since you received your world champion title ).

It's been like this for two years now, Max liked to pretend you were too lazy to get out of bed, napping or eating while watching Kimi's races. But deep down, he knew you weren't. With a deep sigh he pulled the extra bag he had to buy to fit all the gifts he received.

Most of the gifts were for him, minus the few pink themed ones for you which was a result of your obsession with your pink coloured Porsche sitting in the garage. The pink stuff was set on one side for you and the blue or orange on another side for him.

Max received shirts, bracelets, letters, a lot of things really. What caught his eyes the most was a flip book, a work of art containing water paintings of moments you shared with Max across your journey though f1.

When he flipped to the last page his eyes where met with a printed QR code. This could be either a bad or a good thing, and before he got the chance to find out his phone rang. "Hey Verstappen." Your father's voice rang through the apartment.

"What's so important you had to call me in the middle of the night?" He sighed rubbing his face tired.

"You might want to come down to the hospital." He replied sighing. "Hi, Max" he heard Daniel in the background. That's all Max needed to put on something appropriate and go down to the medical centre. When he finally found the two men through the ER, he was welcomed by a nice surprise.

"I think I stubbed my toe." Daniel joked looking down at his broken foot. "What did you do?!" Max was panicking, the season had barley started and Daniel ( who was finally in a RB seat ) was out.

"Someone slammed the door on his foot." Your father explained sighing in annoyance. Max never liked your dad, since he was a kid. He was always so mean and cruel. And although he tried to fix things recently, whether by comforting Max or you, he still had this dark and intimidating aura.

A former world champion and the father of one, sitting on a stool, eating mac and cheese. Very scary. Daniel laughed seeing Max looking at your dad amused. "Who gave the old man food?" Your father rolled his eyes as he continued to eat.

"It should be an easy recovery, a month or two." Max sat on a spare chair listening to Daniel explain the injury in medical terms he didn't understand. And soon, after Christian Horner was informed of the inchident, Max was able to return to his apartment, laying on the couch facing the racing sims on the other side of the room.

"Maxie, you hungry?" "I'm good, Mijn liefje. Thank you." [my love] He looked up at you, a soft smile spread on his face. Although he should've been concentrating on the online race in front of him, you had his attention wherever he went.

You chuckled gently putting the pair of glasses you found on the boy. "Since you're not hungry, I guess I get the beautiful tomato soup in the kitchen all to myself~" You teased kissing his cheek. "Hey! No fair! I want some." "Then you'll have to hurr-" ring! ring!

"Kan ik geen moment van rust hebben?!" [can i not get a moment of peace] Max shouted over the phone agitated. Who was interrupting him this late?! What he heard next made him feel like a maniac. He was back in the hospital, jogging ( he was told he wasn't allowed to run ) through the halls and up the stairs.

Once he reached room 717, he came to an abrupt stop. A deep breath escaped his lips as he opened the door. "Your late."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I'm hooked on a feeling. I'm high on believing. That you're in love with meeee. I'm hooked on a feeling!" Max sang through his radio as he completed his cool down lap. Once he jumped out of the car, he was greeted with cheers from the fans and his team. But most importantly, your smile.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"There's nothing for miles." "You don't say. We've been walking here forever." You groaned arms dangling down. You were sitting on Max's shoulders, dangling down upside down out of boredom.

The beach was stretching out for miles on end, the waves crashing into each other was the only noise you could hear.

"You think the kids are fine?" He asked worriedly, stopping for a second and looking back. "Yes, Maxie. Have a little faith in them." "I do have faith, I'm just-" "I'm scared too. But you know, I've got you, so I'm less scared." You assured, patting his thigh.

"Ps. Why's your ass so big?" "It is not." Max defended swinging you sideways. You could only laugh, smacking him over his swim trucks before wriggling out of his hold and running away. Max was quick to follow you, running after you. "Come back here!"

"Run run as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the- AAAH." "Gotcha!" Max wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you. You were laughing loudly, relaxing in his arms as he pressed kisses on your cheek.

[peapodbond]

that was us

abby tears her rotator cuff and doesn't get her range of motion back after the surgery and rehab. she quits swimming.

one of her friends is going through med school and they go out together sometimes, and there's a rotating group of first responders who come out with the residents because they've gotten to know each other at the hospital.

she's not really in a partying mood, and sometimes she can drift to the back of the group and talk with the tall firefighter who looks as awkward as she feels. they spend an entire evening dissecting love actually and debating if die hard can be seen as the sequel where alan rickman's character finally gets what he deserves.

she tries training other swimmers. but some of them are the people she competed with, the rest are babies, and other than "you really shouldn't exceed the coach's orders on practice time" and "maybe don't go to a roller rink when you're not great on rollerskates", she doesn't have much to teach them. they've already got their forms down, and while she can hold their arms in the proper positions, she can't show it to them in the pool without aching for the rest of practice. the doctors warn her that if she keeps trying she might end up with more damage.

she gets a receptionist position. it's fine. it's boring. she learns how to balance a company's books and how to direct visitors to the correct office.

she and the firefighter (tommy) spend two months at the bar debating the 1995 bbc pride and prejudice.

she quits her job. abby says she wants to do something that means something. a friend of her friend looks at abby and suggests she tries dispatch. what the hell. it's three months of training. it's not like she's getting roped into eight years of med school.

the first time she's able to help someone at dispatch it feels like winning a race.

she asks tommy if he wants to grab a coffee.

it's really easy to talk to tommy. they recommend books to each other, go to the movies a lot. they date casually. abby's not sure she wants something serious right now. they spend weeks hitting up every small hole in the wall they can find.

abby offers to bring tommy lunch at the fire house. his face does something complicated and he admits that his captain isn't a great guy. tommy would rather keep abby away from him.

she tells him if it gets worse he should try and switch houses.

tommy finishes his probationary year and takes abby out to the fanciest restaurant she's ever been to. they both hate it and end up grabbing a burger on the way home.

they're not living together but they are spending almost every night together. abby gets a lead on a gorgeous apartment fifteen minutes away from dispatch. tommy and his friend sal help her move all her furniture in. tommy's lease was renewed before she found out about the apartment, but he's over so much it barely matters.

the family introduction goes well. he charms her mother and her brother thinks he's pretty great, choices in sports teams aside. three months after she moves into her new place, tommy makes her dinner and proposes.

(it's so much better than the fancy restaurant.)

she catches him looking at houses. it's just a thought he has, finding a place that needs to be fixed up. maybe he keeps it, maybe he sells it later, but there are so many places around town that just need a little love to be good again.

the housing market crashes in the recession and tommy finds a small two-storey place that's closer to the harbor station, which is when abby finds out that tommy wants to fly again, he's just waiting for a spot to open.

she thinks that's much safer than running into burning buildings, but she doesn't say that out loud.

he signs for the house the next day, and abby starts looking at paint chips. she's not much for do it yourself, but she knows how to paint a mean wall. it's an older house and she does research about what colours were common when they were built, knows that tommy wants to preserve the original house as much as possible.

she's priming the newly drywalled living room when there's a loud curse from down the hall and the sledgehammer tommy is using to tear down the kitchen crashes into the wall.

his captain tanked tommy's transfer to harbor.

tommy's miserable. she doesn't know what to say to make it better, because there is no way to make that better.

abby knows what's coming when he sits her down a few weeks later. (if he hadn't, she was going to.) she leaves the ring on the kitchen island. it's the only thing that survived the sledgehammer. part of her wants to ask for updates on the house. the rest of her knows a clean break is better.

"i really hope you get what you need."

and that's that.

part two

[ourflagmeansbts]

Source (Season 2 - October 10th 2023)

hayleyegandesign: Team work makes the dream work! A shout out to all the players on team-merman for @ourflagonmax@rafaelvalladao 3D sculpted our scales in brazil. @metmobile printed the scales here in our studio and @an.introduction.to our master mould maker made fibreglass moulds into which we began casting casting and more casting.... 3000 individual scales in multiple colours with an array of glitters from @mysticartglitters ... so so so much GLITTER! How cute does my man @metmobile look, delicately dusting glitter into scale moulds 😍 Then our lovely @homemade_byaline would come to the studio every evening and patiently trim excess silicone off scales with teeny tiny nail scissors late into the night. While this was all going on @thecreativetradecollective babes lent a hand with meticulously painting silicone scales onto our lycra tail skins (sewn and airbrushed by yours truely of course) The idea was to have a combo of hand painted silicone scales and fully cast silicone scales. The end result was SEAMLESS!!! And again.... more glitter. And I basically had my fingers in all these pies, sculpting, painting, sewing, liaising with our talented designer @gypsytaylor , casting, mixing, sparkling, sourcing, delegating, sleeping (no... no not sleeping!!!) Ironically myself and @an.introduction.to probably did the most hours, but we didn't get any fun posey photos with our work!!! Always the way!!!! And last but not least, we had a freediver Jose come and test run our fishy wares in my swimming pool (my neighbours must think I'm so weird!)... more photos to come of our resident merman.

[andrecoatings]

[evermore-grimoire]

The Evermore Grimoire: Mermaids of the Seven Seas

The Pacific Mermaids are a pod of mermaids who can move with both vigour and grace deep within their home, the Pacific Ocean. Whilst all mermaids can swim exceptionally fast, these mermaids are faster thanks to their beautiful streamlined tails that reflect the vibrant colours of coral that paint the ocean floor. Their power of Hydrokinesis is the perfect match to their eager way of life which also makes them the most open-minded pod of the Seven Seas when it comes to their magic. In fact it was the Pacific Mermaids who joined forces with a coven of witches centuries ago to vanquish a great evil, which the coven of witches gifted them the Book of Tides as a thank you. However this great triumph eventually led to a great downfall that rippled throughout all the pods of the Seven Seas. The last Prince and heir to the throne of the Pacific Mermaids became jealous of his mermaid bride (and future Queen) when the rest of the pod began to admire and listen to her kind words of wisdom more than his own. His jealously only grew when he saw how naturally gifted she was with her powers as well as the magic she created in the Book of Tides. Over time the Prince began to sway other mermen to his way of thinking as he believed that he should be the one that the pod admired and loved the most. His plan was to kill his mermaid bride and use the Book of Tides to solidify his place on the throne, alone. However his bride’s loyal confidantes caught wind of the Prince’s plans and began preparing for the possibility of a civil war within the pod. Little did they know that the rebellious group of mermen had secretly spread the word throughout all the pods of the Seven Seas to usurp all mermaids and the royal families to ensure that the pods would be ruled by mermen alone. The war itself was brutal and bloody, which led to the Book of Tides being lost at sea forever. Members of the royal families throughout the pods of the Seven Seas either sacrificed themselves and their magic or they were killed in an effort to try and win the war. Once the war did come to an end, thanks to the Atlantic Mermaids, all mermen were banished from their pods forever. The Prince from the Pacific Mermaids was imprisoned in a cave in the deepest and most desolate part of the Pacific Ocean for the rest of his life. As for his mermaid bride, well she survived but was left heartbroken at his betrayal and the damaged his jealousy had caused to her beloved world. So she decided to leave the Pacific Mermaids and swim throughout the Seven Seas alone, but it’s believed that she kept watch on the Moon Pool that her pod created to make sure that no male mortal or witch would ever discover their magic and potentially create another war against mermaids.

original artwork by Vlad Stankovic

[moutainrusing]

summer

680 words, no warnings, @dorlenemicroficprompts

Summer, sunshine, surfing.

Boards in hand, Marlene, James and Peter sprinted towards the sea, before paddling into the ocean, saltwater shining across their skin.

“My wave,” Marlene gestured smugly at an oncoming wave.

“Fuck you, I wanted that,” James pouted, moping as he gave Marlene the right of way. Peter shook his head fondly, idly lying on his board as it bobbed up and down.

Marlene laughed, paddling towards the wave, leaping to her feet as it propelled her forward, carving a path through the water.

“Jump, jump, jump!” James was cheering.

“Twist!” Peter yelled, hands cupped around his mouth.

Marlene grabbed the front of her board, pushing upwards as she turned in the air, landing back onto the wave somewhat gracefully.

“Yeah!” James whooped.

Marlene fell. “Ah, shit, shit shit.”

“Marlene?” James paddled up to her.

“Are you okay?” Peter followed behind her.

“Yeah, fine, just…” she pointed lamely towards a cave jutting out of the shoreline a couple miles away. “Did you see that?”

“The cave?” James frowned.

“What about it?” Peter asked.

“It was… glowing?” Marlene shrugged helplessly.

Peter eyed her sceptically. “You don’t sound sure about that.”

James just grinned, “Well, we could always explore it anyway. It’s an interesting cave.” With that, he began paddling towards it.

Rolling his eyes, Peter followed. Marlene snorted at them in amusement, before catching another glimmer. Half-way between her and the cave, now.

Silvery purple, speckled shimmers brighter than sunlight in an oval on the water’s surface. Now closer towards her. Now next to her. She skimmed her fingers through it.

When she pulled her hand out, it was covered in plum-coloured smudges, like touching paint that was almost dry, but not quite. It glittered. The oval stretched, swirling around her board to become a circle, a rotating wheel shape. She slid off her board, pushing it towards the coast, before dunking her head underwater.

Where she was blinded. She blinked, lifting her head out, then under, then out, under, trying to get her pupils to adjust. Under; the light was less intense for her now, and she could see again, blue waters mixed with brown sand. If she looked deeper than that, she thought she saw a person. Lifting her head out, she took a huge gulp of air, before plunging as far down as she could go, swimming and swimming until the same blue-purple was shimmering at her, more saturated now. Separated into scales, a fish tail. With a human’s upper body. Marlene kicked back up to the surface, gasping for not only air, but out of sheer shock.

A face emerged beside her, and Marlene blinked rapidly. Blinded. The mermaid?! Mermaid.

Mermaid. The mermaid (mermaid!) had dark skin, cheeks tinted blue-purple; everything about her was blue-purple. True creature of the sea, really. Her hair was dark turquoise seaweed tied in dreadlocks, wine-coloured shells beaded into each braid, her eyes were a deep, dark marine blue, almost black, and her teeth weren’t white, they were faintly lilac.

Marlene could see them very clearly, because the mermaid was grinning at her. “Regulus told me not to talk to you, but while he was rambling about the dangers of humans, I came to tell you that I really loved your surfing. When you fell was my favourite bit.”

Marlene reeled back. “Excuse me?”

“It was very funny,” the mermaid nodded sagely. Her eyes widened, “Shit, Reg’s calling me. I gotta go, but we can talk more later. Just shout ‘Dorcas,’ into the sea, and I’ll be here.” She looked at Marlene expectantly.

“…Will do.”

Dorcas beamed, diving back, glimmer streaking rapidly towards the cave.

Marlene was cluelessly left to her own devices, pondering her sanity. She didn’t know how much time had passed before James was back and shouting, “I met the most beautiful person today! His name’s Regulus, and he kept glaring at me! He was in this pool inside the cave, and he wouldn’t come out, kept telling me to fuck off and muttering about someone called Dorcas—”

Marlene hadn’t imagined it, then. She smiled involuntarily. Dorcas.

[novlr]

What are some ways to describe summer ?

Summer is not just a season; it’s a vibrant setting that can add life and color to your writing. Whether you’re crafting a sun-soaked romance or a beach thriller, the way you describe summer can immerse readers in your story. Let’s dive into how you can capture the essence of summer, focusing on the various senses and elements that make this season unique.

Sights

Sunsets that paint the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple.

Children chasing ice cream trucks down suburban lanes.

Sunbathers dotting the coastline.

Sprinklers casting rainbows across freshly mowed lawns.

Flower gardens in full bloom, a riot of colours.

Sunglasses showing reflections of the bright world.

Sun hats and flip-flops scattered around pool decks.

Fireflies illuminating the night.

Street markets bustling with locals buying fresh produce.

Hikers on forest trails.

Sounds

The cacophony of cicadas in the late afternoon.

Waves crashing against the shore in a constant rhythm.

The sizzle and pop of barbecues in backyards.

Children’s laughter as they play outside.

Ice clinking in glasses of lemonade or cocktails.

The distant whirr of lawn mowers.

Splashes and shouts from swimming pools.

Chirping songbirds greeting the morning.

The crackle of bonfires during cool summer nights.

The melodic chimes of ice cream trucks roaming the streets.

Smells

The salty tang of sea air at the beach.

The overpowering scent of chlorinated pools.

Freshly cut grass after morning lawn care.

The scent of sunscreen and tanning oils on warm skin.

The smoky aroma of grills at a neighborhood cookout or family barbeque.

Fragrant blossoms like jasmine and roses in full bloom.

The earthy smell of rain on hot pavement.

The mix of fruits, vegetables, fried food, and flowers at an open-air market.

Melting tar with an accompanying heat shimmer on hot roads.

Campfire smoke clinging to clothes and hair during outdoor adventures.

Activities

Beach volleyball games, sand flying as players dive for the ball.

Leisurely picnics in the shade of ancient trees.

Hiking trips taking advantage of the long daylight hours.

Sailing and boating, the wind filling sails on sunlit waters.

Outdoor concerts, where music floats on the warm night air.

Road trips with car windows down, hair whipping in the wind.

Fruit picking in orchards and berry farms.

Camping under the stars, a tent and a sleeping bag for a home.

Water fights with hoses, water guns, and balloons.

Attending summer festivals full of food, music, and dance.

Character body language

Wiping sweat from the brow or fanning themselves to cool down.

Squinting against the harsh sunlight or seeking out spots of shade.

Sipping cold drinks, or gulping down water.

Lounging lazily, limbs relaxed and sprawled out.

Applying sunscreen meticulously.

Adjusting sunglasses or hats for better protection.

Dipping toes tentatively into the sea or a pool.

Tugging at clothes sticking to sweat-dampened skin.

Laughing with carefree abandon, a reflection of summer’s ease.

Turning pages of a paperback with fingers damp from pool water.

Positive descriptions

The liberating feeling of diving into cool water on a scorching day.

The tranquil peace of a sunrise beach yoga session.

The simple pleasure of ice cream melting on the tongue.

The bliss of a hammock nap swayed by a gentle breeze.

The joy of endless blue skies promising adventure.

The warmth of sun-kissed skin after a day outdoors.

The satisfaction of a well-tended garden coming to life.

The contentment of sharing a sunset with loved ones.

The thrill of catching the perfect wave while surfing.

The comfort of balmy evenings spent on porch swings.

Negative descriptions

The oppressive heat making the air feel thick and suffocating.

The relentless buzzing of mosquitoes on a muggy night.

The sting of sunburn after a day of neglecting sunscreen.

The frustration of packed tourist spots and overcrowded beaches.

The exhaustion induced by long days and sweltering heat.

The discomfort of air thick with humidity.

The annoyance of sand finding its way into every nook and cranny.

The disappointment of a rained-out picnic or canceled event.

The lethargy of a heatwave, energy sapped by the relentless sun.

The discomfort of trying to sleep in an overheated, uncooled room.

Helpful Adjectives

Scorching

Balmy

Sultry

Languid

Radiant

Dazzling

Parched

Breezy

Rippling

Sweltering

Sunny

Lush

Blistering

Tropical

Vibrant

Humid

Verdant

Golden

Glowing

Fragrant

Torrid

Tranquil

Crisp

Sizzling

Flaming

Steamy

Refreshing

Shimmering

Lazy

Stifling

Invigorating

Sparkling

Zesty

Fervent

Stuffy

Arid

Saturated

Juicy

Sunbaked

Fetid

[allsouls-emma]

hiii!! this is request for my bestfriend who’s totally smitten over Léon LMAOOO. sooo her name is Léa ( she’s also french ) and she would looooooove a friends to lovers with Léon.I hope it’s okay for you to write about this 🥰 I think she also follows you on here HAHAHA

✧Colours of the water✧ ─

Léon Marchand x Female! Reader, X OC (Léa)

Hello Anon (and Léa), This was absolutely okay to write, it was super long, I would be a liar if I didn't say I got carried away... Enjoy!

Warnings: Stranger, friends to lovers, school, no prior knowledge of being an artists nor swimmer, oc, heated kisses. let me know if i missed any x

Léa’s fingers smudged the edge of her canvas, blending shades of blue into a deeper, more vibrant hue. The art studio at Lycée Ozenne in Toulouse was alive with quiet chatter, the scratch of pencils on paper, and the occasional exclamation of triumph or frustration from her fellow students. It was a sanctuary for Léa, a place where the outside world melted away and she could lose herself in her art.

Today, her canvas was dominated by swirling blues and greens, a depiction of the ocean that was both peaceful and turbulent, much like her thoughts. She was drawing from memory—images of the Mediterranean Sea from a family trip the summer before, the way the water had seemed to stretch endlessly, a shimmering canvas of its own. But there was more to it than that. The water in her painting wasn’t just the sea; it was infused with something deeper, more personal—a reflection of her growing fascination with the element, and with someone who seemed to belong to it.

She glanced down at her sketchbook, open beside her on the workbench. It was filled with studies of water, of movement, of light playing on surfaces. And then, almost unconsciously, her hand had started sketching him—Léon Marchand, the star of the school’s swim team, the boy who cut through water as if he were born to it. Page after page of her sketchbook bore his image: the curve of his muscles, the determined line of his jaw, the intense focus in his eyes when he was in the pool. It had started as an artist’s fascination with movement and form, but Léa knew it had become something more.

“Another day of Léa’s blue period?” teased Nancy, her best friend and fellow art student, as she leaned over to take a look at Léa’s canvas. Nancy’s voice was light, but there was a knowing edge to it.

Léa chuckled softly, trying to dismiss the question. “I guess I’m just drawn to the color. There’s something about it that feels… calming, like the ocean.”

Nancy raised an eyebrow, her expression sly. “Or maybe it’s because of all the time you spend watching the swim team practice.”

Léa felt the heat rush to her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, focusing on her painting with renewed intensity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nancy laughed, not unkindly. “Sure you don’t. You just happen to stroll by the pool every day after classes. It’s purely a coincidence that the team practices then, right?”

Léa couldn’t suppress a smile, even as she shook her head. Nancy wasn’t wrong, but Léa wasn’t ready to admit it out loud. There was something about watching Léon swim that captivated her. The way he moved through the water, so effortlessly, as if he was more at home there than on land, drew her in. And though she told herself it was just an artist’s fascination with movement, she knew deep down it was more than that.

“He’s talented,” Léa finally admitted, as she added another brushstroke to her painting. The water in her landscape was beginning to take shape, with swirling currents and hidden depths.

Nancy tilted her head, studying her friend with a mischievous grin. “Talented? Léa, the guy is practically a fish. I’ve seen you sketching him in your notebook. Don’t try to deny it.”

Léa bit her lip, caught in the act. She had indeed filled pages of her sketchbook with quick, rough sketches of Léon—his powerful strokes, the curve of his back as he dove into the water, the intensity in his eyes as he focused on the end of the pool. Each sketch was a study in motion, in the way his body seemed to meld with the water, becoming one fluid, unstoppable force.

“He’s just… interesting to draw,” Léa said, a little defensively. “There’s so much energy in the way he moves. It’s like he becomes one with the water.”

Nancy smiled gently, sensing that there was more to Léa’s interest than just an artist’s fascination with movement. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

Léa shook her head quickly, her stomach flipping at the mere thought. “No, no. I’m sure he doesn’t even know I exist.”

Nancy tilted her head, thinking. “You never know. I mean, he might surprise you. Plus, you’ve been drawing him for weeks. Maybe it’s time to take the next step.”

Léa considered this, her heart fluttering at the thought of actually speaking to Léon. But she quickly dismissed it. Léon Marchand was popular, always surrounded by his teammates and friends. He probably had no idea who she was, just another face in the crowd.

But that didn’t stop her from thinking about him. When she wasn’t working on her art, she found herself daydreaming about what it would be like to talk to him, to get to know him. There was something about his quiet intensity that intrigued her, something that made her want to understand what went on behind those focused, determined eyes.

With a sigh, Léa set down her brush and wiped her hands on a rag. “I should probably get going,” she said, glancing at the clock. “I have to walk by the pool on my way home, and I’d rather not run into the team.”

Nancy grinned. “Oh, sure. You wouldn’t want to accidentally bump into Léon or anything.”

Léa rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips. “See you tomorrow, Nancy.”

As she packed up her supplies and slung her bag over her shoulder, Léa couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe she should take a chance, step out of her comfort zone. After all, art was about taking risks, about exploring the unknown.

And who knew? Maybe there was more to Léon Marchand than just swimming.

***

Léa walked through the campus, her thoughts swirling as she tried to shake off the conversation with Nancy. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the grounds. The cool evening air was a welcome change from the stuffy art studio, and Léa took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.

As she neared the pool, she could hear the faint sounds of splashing and the rhythmic calls of the coach. The swim team was still practicing, their dedication evident in the long hours they put in. Léa hesitated, considering taking a different route, but something stopped her. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the small voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Nancy’s, urging her to take a chance.

She found herself walking closer to the pool, her footsteps slowing as she neared the fence that surrounded it. Through the gaps in the chain-link, she could see the swimmers cutting through the water, their movements powerful and precise. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, her eyes found Léon.

He was in the middle of a lap, his body slicing through the water with an ease that took her breath away. Léa watched, captivated, as he reached the end of the pool and flipped underwater, pushing off the wall with a burst of energy. For a moment, it was as if time slowed, and all she could see was the water swirling around him, the play of light on his skin, the sheer power and grace in his movements.

And then, as if sensing her gaze, Léon looked up.

Their eyes met, and Léa’s breath caught in her throat. For a split second, she considered turning and walking away, pretending she hadn’t been staring. But something in his expression stopped her. There was no irritation, no annoyance—just a hint of curiosity.

Léon pulled himself out of the pool, water streaming off his body as he grabbed a towel and wiped his face. He said something to his coach, who nodded, and then, to Léa’s surprise, he started walking toward her.

Panic surged through her. What was she supposed to say? What was he going to say? But before she could make up her mind to flee, Léon was standing in front of her, towel draped over his shoulders, his dark hair dripping water onto the pavement.

“Hi,” he said, his voice warm and surprisingly soft. “You’re Léa, right? From art class?”

Léa blinked, taken aback. “Uh, yeah. How did you…?”

Léon smiled, a small, boyish grin that made her heart skip a beat. “I’ve seen you around. Plus, Nancy is in my history class. She mentioned you once or twice.”

Léa mentally cursed Nancy and her big mouth but managed a small smile. “I didn’t realize you knew who I was.”

“Of course I do,” Léon said, his tone casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re always sketching near the pool. You’re really talented.”

Léa felt her cheeks heat up again, and she ducked her head, suddenly shy. “Thanks. I, um, didn’t think anyone noticed.”

Léon chuckled, a deep, rich sound that made her stomach flip. “Hard not to

..

Certainly! Here's an extended version of **Chapter 2: Unexpected Encounters**. I'll focus on building Léa and Léon's friendship through more detailed interactions, shared moments, and the beginning of a deeper connection. This chapter will delve into their budding relationship, highlighting how their shared interests and differences draw them closer.

---

The warmth of Léon’s smile lingered in Léa’s mind long after she left the pool that evening. As she walked home, her thoughts kept drifting back to their conversation. It had been brief, but it was enough to ignite something inside her—something that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Léon Marchand, the school’s swimming prodigy, had not only noticed her but had also complimented her art. And what was more, he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her.

The next day, Léa found herself replaying the encounter in her head as she sat in her morning classes. Her teachers’ voices became a distant hum as she sketched absentmindedly in the margins of her notebook. Little doodles of water droplets, waves, and even a rough sketch of Léon swimming filled the pages. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she barely noticed the bell ringing, signaling the end of the period.

It wasn’t until Nancy nudged her that Léa snapped out of her daydream. “You’re really out of it today,” Nancy said, her tone laced with curiosity. “Did something happen last night after you left the studio?”

Léa hesitated for a moment before deciding to tell Nancy the truth. After all, Nancy had been the one encouraging her to make a move. “I… I actually talked to Léon yesterday.”

Nancy’s eyes widened in surprise. “You what? No way! What did he say? How did it happen?”

Léa blushed at the excitement in Nancy’s voice. “It wasn’t a big deal. He just… recognized me and came over to say hi. He said he’s seen me around and that he thinks I’m talented.”

“Of course he thinks you’re talented,” Nancy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “But still, that’s huge, Léa! Did you talk about anything else?”

Léa nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the conversation. “He said he’d like to see more of my work. I guess… I guess he’s interested in art?”

Nancy’s grin widened. “See? I told you! He’s into you, Léa. This is your chance. You should invite him to the studio, show him what you’re working on.”

Léa’s heart fluttered at the idea, but the thought of spending more time with Léon also made her nervous. “I don’t know… What if he’s just being polite?”

Nancy shook her head, undeterred. “Trust me, guys don’t go out of their way to compliment a girl’s art unless they’re genuinely interested. You should totally take him up on it.”

Despite her nerves, Léa couldn’t deny the thrill of the possibility. Maybe Nancy was right. Maybe Léon’s interest was more than just casual curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new.

***

After school, Léa found herself heading toward the art studio with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. She had spent the entire day trying to muster the courage to approach Léon again, and now that the moment was here, her stomach was in knots. What if he didn’t remember their conversation? Or worse, what if he had changed his mind?

She reached the art studio and hesitated at the door, her hand hovering over the handle. Just as she was about to push it open, a voice called out from behind her.

“Léa!”

She turned around to see Léon jogging toward her, a bright smile on his face. He was still dressed in his school uniform, but his hair was slightly damp, as if he had just come from the pool.

“Hey,” Léa said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Were you looking for me?”

Léon nodded, coming to a stop in front of her. “Yeah, I was hoping to catch you before you went home. I wanted to see if I could check out your art, like we talked about yesterday.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat. He had remembered. “Oh, sure! I was just heading in to work on something. You’re welcome to join me.”

Léon’s smile widened. “Great! I’ve never actually been inside the art studio before.”

Léa pushed open the door, leading Léon into the spacious room filled with easels, canvases, and art supplies. The familiar smell of paint and charcoal greeted them, and Léa felt a sense of comfort wash over her. This was her space, her sanctuary, and sharing it with someone else—especially someone like Léon—felt both intimate and exciting.

“This is where the magic happens,” Léa said with a shy smile as she guided him to her workspace. Her canvas from the day before was still propped up on the easel, the swirling ocean scene halfway complete.

Léon’s eyes widened as he took in the painting. “Wow, Léa. This is amazing. The way you’ve captured the movement of the water… it’s almost like you can feel it.”

Léa’s cheeks flushed with pride. “Thank you. Water has always fascinated me—the way it moves, the way it reflects light. It’s challenging to capture, but it’s also really rewarding.”

Léon nodded, his gaze still fixed on the painting. “I can see that. It’s like the water is alive, almost like it has a personality.”

Léa smiled, appreciating his thoughtful observation. “That’s exactly what I was going for. Water is so dynamic, so full of life. I wanted to show that in my work.”

Léon turned to her, his expression sincere. “You’ve definitely succeeded. I’m really impressed, Léa. You have a gift.”

Léa looked down, feeling a bit overwhelmed by his praise. “I’m just doing what I love.”

“And it shows,” Léon said softly.

They stood in silence for a moment, the air between them filled with unspoken words. Léa could feel her heart beating faster, and she wondered if Léon felt it too—this strange, new connection that was forming between them.

“So, do you have any other pieces you’re working on?” Léon asked, breaking the silence.

Léa nodded, eager to share more of her work with him. “Yeah, I’ve got a few sketches in my notebook. They’re not finished, but you’re welcome to take a look.”

She reached for her sketchbook, flipping it open to a page filled with rough drawings of water—waves crashing against rocks, raindrops falling on a pond, a river winding through a forest. And there, among the sketches, were the drawings of Léon swimming, his form fluid and powerful.

Léon’s eyes lit up as he recognized himself in the sketches. “Are these… me?”

Léa blushed, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been watching the swim team practice, and I just… found your movements really inspiring.”

“Mind?” Léon said, his voice filled with awe. “Léa, these are incredible. I had no idea anyone was paying that much attention to what I do in the pool.”

Léa smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “You make it look so easy, like you’re one with the water. I couldn’t help but be inspired.”

Léon looked at her, his gaze intense. “I’m flattered. Really. No one’s ever seen me that way before.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. She could see now that Léon wasn’t just being polite—he genuinely appreciated her work, and that made her feel more confident in her abilities than ever before.

They spent the next hour talking about art and swimming, sharing stories about their passions and the challenges they faced. Léa learned that Léon had been swimming since he was a child, following in the footsteps of his parents who were both accomplished athletes. He told her about the pressure he felt to live up to their expectations and how he found solace in the water, where everything else seemed to fade away.

In return, Léa shared her own struggles with self-doubt, how she sometimes questioned whether her art was good enough, and how she often felt overshadowed by the more extroverted students in the art program. Léon listened intently, offering words of encouragement that made her feel understood and appreciated in a way she hadn’t experienced before.

By the time they left the studio, the sun had set, and the campus was bathed in the soft glow of twilight. Léa and Léon walked side by side, their conversation continuing easily, as if they had known each other for years instead of just a few days.

As they reached the edge of the campus where their paths would diverge, Léa felt a pang of disappointment. She didn’t want the evening to end, didn’t want to say goodbye to this new, exciting connection they had forged.

“Thanks for showing me your art, Léa,” Léon said, his voice warm. “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” Léa replied, smiling up at him. “I’m glad you came. It was nice getting to know you better.”

Léon hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “Would you maybe want to hang out again sometime? I’d love to see more of you”

..

---

The days that followed their shared evening in the art studio were a blur of stolen glances, whispered conversations, and a growing tension that neither Léa nor Léon could ignore. What had started as a simple interest in each other’s passions had evolved into something deeper, something neither of them was quite ready to put into words.

But they didn’t need words. Their connection spoke for itself in the small moments—the way Léa’s heart raced whenever she saw Léon waiting for her outside the studio, or the way Léon’s eyes would light up whenever he caught sight of her in the hallway. They began spending more time together, finding excuses to meet after classes, whether it was to walk home together, take a stroll through the nearby park, or simply talk about everything and nothing at all.

One Friday evening, Léon invited Léa to the pool after hours, when the swim team had finished practice, and the place was quiet. It was a bold move, and one that had Léa’s heart pounding as she agreed. The idea of being alone with Léon in the dimly lit pool area, with nothing but the sound of water lapping at the edges, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Léa arrived at the pool to find Léon already there, sitting on the edge with his feet dangling in the water. The overhead lights cast a soft glow over the surface, creating rippling reflections that danced on the walls. He looked up as she approached, his face breaking into a smile that made her stomach flutter.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his voice echoing softly in the large space.

“Hey,” Léa replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she walked over to join him. She sat down beside him, her legs folded beneath her as she dipped a hand into the cool water.

For a moment, they simply sat there in comfortable silence, the tension between them palpable. Léa could feel the warmth radiating from Léon’s body, the proximity sending her senses into overdrive. She had never been this close to him before, and the awareness of his presence was almost overwhelming.

“Do you ever get tired of the water?” Léa asked suddenly, her voice breaking the stillness.

Léon glanced at her, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Sometimes. But it’s also where I feel most at peace. It’s like… everything else fades away when I’m in the water. The pressure, the expectations, the noise. It all just disappears.”

Léa nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. She felt something similar when she was painting, when she could lose herself in the strokes of her brush and the colors on her canvas. But there was more to it than that, something deeper that she couldn’t quite put into words.

“It must be nice,” she said softly, “to have something that makes everything else disappear.”

Léon’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression intense, as if he was searching for something in her words. “It is,” he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But I think I’ve found something else that does that too.”

Léa’s heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking at her, the meaning behind his words clear. She felt a rush of emotions—fear, excitement, anticipation—all mingling together in a heady mix that left her breathless.

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Léon reached out, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was soft, tentative, as if he was testing the waters, but it sent a shiver down her spine all the same.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that,” Léon murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

Léa’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing. “Léon…”

But he didn’t let her finish. In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding, as if he had been holding back for far too long and couldn’t wait another second.

Léa’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the kiss, her hand coming up to rest on Léon’s chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath her fingertips. The world around them seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of them, the warmth of his lips against hers, and the sensation of his arms wrapping around her, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, the initial hesitancy giving way to a growing hunger as they lost themselves in each other. Léa had never felt anything like this before—this intense, overwhelming need to be closer to him, to feel every part of him. It was as if something had been unlocked inside her, something she hadn’t even known was there, and now it was impossible to ignore.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady themselves. Léa’s eyes fluttered open to find Léon staring at her, his gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that made her heart skip another beat.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Léon admitted, his voice low and rough with emotion.

Léa couldn’t help but smile, her own feelings mirrored in his words. “Me too.”

For a moment, they just sat there, caught up in the intensity of the moment, neither of them wanting to break the spell. But eventually, Léon pulled back slightly, his hand still cupping her cheek.

“I want to see you again, Léa. More than just at school or in the studio. I want to spend more time with you… outside of all this,” he said, his voice full of sincerity.

Léa’s heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. “I’d like that too, Léon.”

He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made her feel like she was floating. “Good. How about tomorrow? We could go to the park, take a walk, and just… talk. Get to know each other better.”

Léa nodded, excitement bubbling up inside her at the thought of spending more time with him. “That sounds perfect.”

They lingered for a while longer, neither of them quite ready to leave the moment behind. Eventually, they stood up, their hands brushing against each other as they made their way out of the pool area, the tension between them now tinged with something new—hope, anticipation, and the beginnings of a deeper connection.

***

The next day, the sun was shining brightly as Léa made her way to the park where she had agreed to meet Léon. The air was crisp with the scent of autumn leaves, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. It was the perfect day for a walk, but Léa’s mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Léon to fully appreciate the beauty of her surroundings.

She spotted him almost immediately, leaning against a tree near the entrance to the park, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched her approach. The sight of him made her heart skip a beat, just like it always did, but there was something different today—something that made her feel both excited and nervous all at once.

“Hey,” Léon greeted her with a smile as she walked up to him.

“Hey,” Léa replied, her own smile mirroring his.

They started walking side by side, the path winding through the park shaded by the tall trees overhead. The conversation was easy, flowing naturally as they talked about everything from their favorite books to their plans for the future. Léa found herself opening up to him in a way she hadn’t with anyone else, sharing her hopes, her dreams, and even her fears.

Léon listened attentively, his responses thoughtful and sincere. He shared his own dreams with her—his desire to one day compete in the Olympics, his love for swimming, and how he sometimes felt trapped by the expectations that came with being a prodigy. Léa could see the passion in his eyes when he talked about swimming, but also the weight of the pressure he was under.

“I know what it’s like to feel like you have to live up to other people’s expectations,” Léa said softly as they sat down on a bench overlooking a small pond. “It can be overwhelming, especially when it feels like no matter what you do, it’s never enough.”

Léon looked at her, his expression intense. “Exactly. It’s like… everyone expects me to be this perfect athlete, to always win, to never make a mistake. But sometimes I just want to swim because I love it, not because I have to prove something.”

Léa reached out, placing her hand on his. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Léon. You’re already amazing, just as you are.”

Léon’s eyes softened at her words, and he turned his hand over to intertwine his fingers with hers. “Thank you, Léa. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, their hands still clasped together, both of them lost in their own thoughts. The connection between them had grown stronger, the spark that had been there from the beginning now fanned into a flame that was impossible to ignore.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, Léon turned to Léa, his gaze searching. “Léa, I don’t want to rush things, but… I really like you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

Léa.