#the colours!! that blue and the soft orange-brown and !!!!!!

[avanii]

Azumarill and Marill sketches! May slap some ink and colour onto a few of these later, give me an excuse to finally use my blue inks properly hahaha

[nkukuforcolorpalettes]

Cherubim Wings

[fingertipsmp3]

Is it just me who cannot figure out their colour season

[loveushijima]

morning schedule | ushijima wakatoshi x reader

where you disrupt ushijima wakatoshi’s morning schedule, but he was okay with that.

fluff !! | reader is gender neutral

Ushijima Wakatoshi had a schedule he followed.

Everyday at exactly 5:30 in the morning, he would wake up, toast two slices of bread to a golden-brown hue for his breakfast, be out of the dormitory building by 6am for his morning run, and be back by 7am, sometimes 7:05 if he felt like taking an extra lap but never after that. He then gets ready for a full day of classes and a full night of volleyball training.

Ushijima Wakatoshi followed his schedule to a T. It became routine and he never found himself straying away from his repeated morning schedule.

That was, until he saw you.

You, with your tired eyes and homemade onigiri in hand, sitting on the bench along the path Ushijima takes for his daily morning run. You, still in your sleepwear and slightly tangled hair — Ushijima wonders, how could anyone come out into public view looking like that?

Ushijima pondered that thought to himself the first morning he saw you sleepily drag yourself to the bench, back facing him and eyes looking upwards toward the sky.

The second morning Ushijima saw you at the bench, he followed your eyes up to the morning sky; that was when he saw something different. Your half-opened eyes turned into ones that gleamed of wonder and delight, a beam formed on your lips and you stare at the sunrise.

Ushijima had never noticed the colours of the sky before. He had never noticed how the sky was a beautiful blend of orange, pink and yellow and how it painted the entire sky above the Shiratorizawa campus. But most importantly, he had never noticed how beautiful you looked — with the colours of the sunrise giving you a soft, orange tint and how if he looked close enough, he could see the sunrise swimming around in your eyes.

Ushijima did not understand why you looked so happy and content by the mere sight of the sunrise. After all, the sun rises everyday, it’s nothing special. Ushijima did not understand the smile that crossed your features as you looked up into the colourful horizon — but how could he blame you when he himself was rendered speechless just by the mere sight of looking at you too?

From that day forward, Ushijima slowed his pace and took his time when he approached your bench. He would, without fail, find you there everyday at 7 in the morning, staring up into the sky with your messy hair and wrinkled sleepwear. Ushijima would often take multiple laps around the area just so he could come running past you at your bench.

Ushijima started to arrive back to his dormitory late after his morning runs. 7:10, 7:20, some days even 7:30.

Ushijima Wakatoshi had a schedule he followed, but he couldn’t care less if that meant he could spend an extra 15 minutes or so running past you looking at you.

He started to notice the small things around him after knowing you. Ushijima noticed how the colours of the sky started to fade into its average periwinkle blue at 7:28am because that’s when you started to leave your bench. Ushijima noticed you in school, taking mental notes of your class and which side of the campus you and your friends frequent to the most. Ushijima noticed how after a month or so of you two seeing each other every morning, you started to smile at him — the same beautiful smile you always wore on your face whenever you stared up into the sky. Ushijima never smiled back, but he had grown a fondness for you even though you two had never spoken to each other once.

But Ushijima knew he was too quiet, too stoic, too introverted. He told himself that the smile you offered him was one out of courtesy, not because you actually see him the way he saw you, every morning.

“Is this going to be an everyday thing or what?”

Ushijima slowed down, head turning to see whether he heard that correctly.

It was his first lap around your bench for that morning and it was exactly 7 in the morning at that very moment.

There you were, in all your glory. You sat criss-crossed on your bench, holding a bento box and with your signature smile plastered on your face.

“Pardon?” Ushijima deadpanned, a surprised glint in his eyes.

You smile even wider, scooting over so that there’d be extra room on the bench. “I see you everyday, here, running past me as the sunset plays in the background. Would you like to join me today?”

Ushijima thought you never noticed him. He thought wrong.

Everyday with no fail, at exactly 7am you would see the captain of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team run by you. At first, you barely noticed him, paying all your attention to the sunrise you wake so early to catch. But after awhile, you take notice of the way things changed. He passes by the bench more. He tries to act like he’s looking past you and at the sunrise everytime he runs by, but he’s not great at acting.

After awhile, you don’t come for the sunrise anymore. You come to the bench every morning just to be with Ushijima Wakatoshi. You come to hear his breathing as he runs by, taking notice of how he starts a slow jog when he approaches your area. You come to be in his presence as you assume he comes to be in yours as well.

A light blush dusts Ushijima’s cheeks as he accepts your invitation and sits down beside you. You offer him an onigiri from your bento box and he replies that he already ate two slices of toast earlier that morning. You raise an eyebrow at his rejection of your onigiri. Ushijima gets the hint and takes the onigiri anyway despite being slightly full from his breakfast at 5:30 that morning.

As he took a bite into his second breakfast that morning and listened to you start to talk about something else, Ushijima Wakatoshi felt okay with not following his schedule anymore if it meant more mornings like this with you.

[konigsblog]

comforting nights with farmer könig

your husband, könig, flipped through the newspaper. you fought sleep, but tilted your head back against his burly chest. you could hear the faint sounds of cows and pigs squealing in the distance, drowned out by the noise of the fireplace crackling. the reds and oranges, the yellow and the bright flames along with the wood.

freshly cut wood thrown into the fireplace, giving you a beautiful view to gaze over at. the heat warmed your bodies. you closed your eyes gently, humming to yourself as you took in the scent around you. bitter coffee beans and vanilla, taking a deep breath before opening your eyes again.

you wore a snug, wool jumper that fit nicely against your body. you watched as könig's fingertips lifted a page and flipped it to the other, reading all about the village. he noticed your silence, coughing before speaking in a tender, soothing tone.

“are you alright, sonnenschein? you're awfully quiet?” he pointed out, placing down the newspaper against the couch and running his large, calloused hands against your bare, soft thighs. you hummed in acknowledge, brushing it off and giving him a warm smile by tilting your head back and looking into his silverish, blue eyes.

you gazed down at the mug full of black coffee which he held firmly in his large hands; the bitter smell and the familar dark brown, honey colour, your reflection gazing back at you. he leaned down to kiss your forehead, whispering something to you in german.

you both had decide to head to bed, or atleast try to get some rest. the floral print bedsheets pulled over your bodies, wearing nothing but your panties in a comfortable silence, an intimate moment you two shared as a married couple.

könig chuckled to himself, watching your eyelids flutter open and closed, fighting sleep. he ran his hand over your hair, warm fingertips running down your temple, pinching your cheek. “you're always so exhausted, aren't you?” you giggled quietly in agreement, inching closer to him.

you took in your surroundings; from the paintings that showed your personality and taste, to his many novels and books littering the shelf. his body pressed against yours, your rested your head against his chest, listening to the thumping sounds of his heartbeat, the rhythm, the beat. he always smelled heavenly; fresh with a hint of vanilla and coffee.

your eyes fluttered closed, falling asleep to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat. he listened, listening to the your breathing becoming more shallow, watching as you became more loose and relaxed, an elegant beauty before him.

your husband chuckled to himself, how peaceful you were in these moments... könig kissed between your eyes, burying his face in your hair, quickly falling into the same relaxed state at you.

two snoring, sleepyhead messes sprawled out, your legs intertwined and caught and your hands in eachothers.

[jolapeno]

19. charming blue

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter nineteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 4.1k chapter warnings: dad!frankie. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. flirting. they're no longer idiots. an: next week is the epilogue, and I'm crying in the club rn.

prev chapter | series masterlist

read on ao3

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It’s been almost a year.

A thing you think to yourself as you drag the tip of your paintbrush across the cheek of the sixth child at your little homemade stand, nestled on the edge of Sam’s backyard.

It had only been built last night. You and Frankie had been inspired by lemonade stands, ignoring his mutterings about Pinterest as the two of you rummaged in his workshop, scavenging enough wood to bring it to life. Dragging bits and scraps, a saw in hand as you cut things to size, laughing as you begin grunting with each back and forth—

“Alright beaver, calm down. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Don’t worry, Morales. I'm only eager for your wood.”

You’re grateful the bruise on your hip is still healing. The one gained from a mandatory break between coats of paint, his finger wrapping two of your fingers in a bandaid. Soft kisses to the tips of them before those same kisses were on your mouth, on your neck, traipsing down your collarbone. That's when you'd caught the edge of his workbench, fingers busy with his belt, a clang, whoosh and then an ouch.

Now, dipping and swirling the paintbrush in the murky water, you feel the pain flare when you shift—hand occasionally brushing over it. A private smile forms, buried easily when another child requests the same animal.

Then, when the stripes and whiskers are complete, you can’t help but grin at the high-pitched thank you that follows, watching the child skip off, shouting to anyone who’ll hear them that they’re a lion too now—at a dinosaur-themed birthday.

Carefully, covering the orange paint, you place the lid back over the others so they don't dry out. The air is full of squeals, sugar practically on the tip of your tongue from the at-home cotton candy machine Sam's cousin is operating. You lift your head, squinting still through the shades you borrowed from Frankie to see that said cousin had given up putting it on a stick, and was instead shoving balls of it into the hands of already excitable and sugar-filled children.

Shaking your head, cleaning your hands on a rag that was now a canvas of colours, going from a pale pink to an assortment of shades, you laugh if only to yourself. Pushing the aviators up your nose, the warm plastic familiar against your skin, and catch a whiff of Frankie's cologne lingering on them—a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him.

You had known the two of you were inching towards a year, but it had been Frankie who had brought it up first.

Whispering it against your bare shoulder yesterday morning, asking if he could take you for lunch with a kiss to your hip—having booked a table, reserved the same spot the two of you had sat at during your second date. Only this time, you took in the place even more—hand in hand—from the plants to the decor. You were less nervous than that first time, more comfortable, letting him order a range of mini plates so the two of you could sample a variety of things.

Your fork extended over the table, watching him try to chase the food you had told him he should try, before his fingers—thick, dexterous, that somehow still make your stomach flip—wrap around your wrist so he can place the fork between his teeth.

“We should come here more often,” you had said, him taking your hand in his, thumb brushing over the place between your knuckles.

“We should.”

“You gonna kiss me like you did that first time?”

Licking his lips, swiping a finger through the lingering sauce. “Can do so much more than a kiss, Rainy.”

Sighing, content—finding it hard not to smile—you glance around as the memory fades into Luca's backyard birthday party.

How laughter echoes around the fence panels, blending roughly with the music and occasionally intercepted by a squeal that makes you wince behind your shades. And you wouldn't change it, any of it. Your heart even doubles when you see Luca grinning and waving at you, as you return it before he's running off once again.

“Brought you this.”

Looking up, squinting in the sun, you see the inflated dinosaurs behind him jiggle and move in the warm breeze. Dressed in a green polo, a new fake T-Rex sticker on his cheek, you curl into his touch as his hand spreads across your shoulder.

“Oh? So you’re not here to have your face painted, Morales.”

“Not one bit—makes me itchy.”

“Not very party of you.”

Smiling, he massages a particular spot that could turn you into goo. You press a kiss to his sun-kissed arm, inhaling the scent of his sunscreen—a blend of coconut and tropical flowers that instantly transported you back to your day at the beach, laughing and holding hands as the waves crashed around you. Staring up, you want to brush your fingers through his hair, feel his curls shifting and dancing in the breeze.

“It seems to be holding up well. The stand.”

Smirking, doing a little shrug. “Yeah, it's doing good. Must have been that DIY video.”

Scoffing, it forming from the back of his throat and exiting his mouth quickly, you swear he rolls his eyes. “Wasn't the video.”

“No?”

His fingers still massaging, working the place between your neck and shoulder, jaw tight, eyes fixed on something ahead as he grumbled, “Didn't need it.”

You hum, resting your head against him, smiling, all easy, without a care in the world. “Sometimes, videos aren't all bad though, are they?”

His chin dips, your eyes fixing on the place you think his stare will be behind his own shades. Wondering, hoping he's thinking of the first time you met. The video, the one he'd made you show him so he has some semblance of an idea of what you were trying to do.

“Sometimes. I'll give you that.”

“You think next year it’ll be at yours? The party?”

He draws a circle, one that shifts into a square and then back again. “Maybe. Maybe it’ll be at ours.”

“We do need to finish that conversation.”

Humming, he smiles, lowering his mouth down to meet yours as you hear him whisper, “We do” at the same time as you both distantly hear Luca screaming for him.

“I think you’re being summoned.”

“Swear my kid is cockblocking me from finishing this conversation with you.”

“Maybe it’s an omen.”

Tapping you, you smirk—biting your lip as he grins. “Do me a favour.”

Letting him hold the back of your neck as you tip, his fingers gripping just lightly. “Anything, baby.”

“If I’m not off that in five minutes, stab it with something so it deflates.”

Smirking, you brush your fingers over his back as he kisses the top of your head. You watch him run off to the bounce house, unable to stop yourself from grinning, feeling nothing but joy as he charges in and roars.

Adjusting the party hat atop your head, you glance over and spot Sam, who mouths a thank you for the millionth time today before pointing at the buffet. You shake your head.

You’re not sure you can eat another pizza roll if you tried, but you don’t say no when she points at the cupcakes beside it.

The second cupcake is being devoured when you carry in some of the presents an hour later, placing them in the room marked Luca’s. It is so vastly different from the one at Frankie’s, yet still holds the same charm. The colours are different, if not reversed in how they’re used, the love of dinosaurs smothering everywhere it can in a similar fashion to his.

Admiring, letting your eyes wander across the photographs on the top of the little cubbies, the ones that hold multicoloured tubs with sticky labels highlighting their contents. In each frame, the people shift, from Sam and Luca to Frankie, Sam and Luca, Luca and what you assume are his grandparents, but the smile, the grin never changes. It just grows, gets bigger with him as more hair curls atop his head and his hands get larger as he waves at the camera.

“You hiding from me?” Looking over your shoulder, you find Frankie walking towards you, hands sliding around your waist as he rests his head against yours. “Well, I found you.”

“Is this the part where I scream?”

Snorting, he kisses your cheek. “If you want a bunch of tiny lions coming and stealing me again, be my guest.”

Leaning against him, fingers tracing over his, feeling his knuckles, the healed scratches and rough parts. “Hey, did you build these?” you ask, resting your head on him, his chin resting on you. “They’re like the ones at yours…”

You hear him swallow, before he shrugs. “Maybe.”

Tilting your head, staring at him, finding his eyes have flicked down even if his head is still in the same position. “Has anyone told you that you’re good at this—at making things with your hands?”

His chest fills with a breath before he slowly exhales. “I try.”

Fingers, all instinctive, slide around his chin, tug his chin down, eyes unable to not stare into yours. “I mean it. You’re really good at what you do, Frankie.”

One side of his mouth slides into his cheek, before he takes your hand, kissing your wrist. “C’mon, before there’s a search party.”

Clutching his wrist, keeping him in place. “I love you, you know?”

His lips slide into his cheek as he closes the gap, his fingers cradling your face tenderly. “I know,” he whispers, his eyes soft and full of wonder, as if he's hearing it for the first time, before he presses a slow, lingering kiss against your lips, sealing the words against your mouth.

I don’t know who is running your social account but they’re very witty.

They are. They make me laugh.

Yes, I’ve heard they have a good mouth on them.

Did you know that they’re also beautiful and very cute in the morning?

Should I be worried? They sound like a keeper.

Jealous?

Depends, are you going to make them a coffee using your complicated machine?

Maybe. They’re a bit moody without caffeine.

I’m beginning to feel offended.

I will say that you were right about scheduling them—it has helped.

Is that you saying I’m right?

Maybe.

I’ve screenshotted that as evidence.

Do you want a coffee bringing when I come to yours?

Is that a bribe to delete the evidence? Either way, that would be nice.

Good, might have already made you one in your cup.

You spoil me, Butterscotch.

It's hard not to fidget—moving from standing to pacing, to leaning.

Currently, you're back to standing in the place where the sun streams in through the open back door, casting warm, golden light across the kitchen floor, and your feet as it gently warms you—until you get too hot again.

The gentle breeze continues to bring in the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the soft hum of distant lawnmowers which add a somewhat comforting background to the quiet afternoon. But neither do anything to stem the growing worries in your stomach, the ones climbing, doubling—

Sliding your hand around your glass, the ice cubes clink softly, slowly melting and leaving a ring of condensation on the counter. You sip the cold water, letting it cool your nerves. The anticipation builds, each second stretching as you glance at the clock, knowing he'll be here any moment.

It doesn’t work, not even as you take in a deep breath.

Trying to will tranquillity and calm to shower down over your shoulders as you glance at the clock, realising he’ll be here any moment.

And it makes your heart pound. Forces your palms to become a little more clammy as you place the glass down in its puddle.

You’ve rehearsed this. Gone over it in your head, running a hand down your outfit to flatten it—as though that would be the thing that could ruin this. Even if you’ve gone over every detail of this surprise a million times. Yet, standing in the quiet kitchen, you can’t help but second-guess everything.

What if he doesn’t like it?

What if he thinks you’ve overstepped?

What if, what if, what if—

Shaking your head, you jumble the doubts. Shake them to some other part like a snow globe, taking a reprieve from them before they flutter back down. Allowing yourself the brief chance to remind yourself why you’ve done this, why you're doing this.

Because you love him. Because you believe in him—

Taking in another deep breath, fingers flexing at your side, you force yourself to focus on the positive outcome you’ve imagined so many times, rather than the others.

Like him storming out.

Like him staring at you in outrage, questioning why, what gave you the right.

But then, this is him.

Your Frankie. The one who never needs the heating, because he’s always several degrees warmer than you, a thing you hate when he’s not sharing a bed with you—when he’s not pulling you close and whispering against your skin that he’ll keep you warm.

Or, your Frankie who grunts if he’s not awake before you, needing coffee, or breakfast. Tugging you close as he curls you under him, burying his face in your neck as he grunts that it’s too early—even if he deep down knows it isn’t.

The man who goes quieter when he’s tired, who dislikes bumper-to-bumper traffic and hammers his thumbs on the steering wheel in protest of it; who might be fiercely protective, but has never stormed out or raised his voice—so why would this even be a worry you’d have.

You jolt at the echoed familiar sound of a key turning in the front door, a flutter of excitement mingling with a rush of nerves as your thoughts fade, vanish. Replacing it with nothingness, a barren wasteland of quiet worry.

And each noise you can hear makes it worse. Makes you feel sick, nauseous, sweaty and lightheaded. Your fingers clamping to the counter for leverage—

"Hello?" he calls out, his voice carrying through the open rooms. You hear the door close behind him, the soft clink of keys as he puts them down.

"In here," you reply, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

Frankie appears in the doorway, his face lighting up as he sees you. "Hey," he says, crossing the room to wrap you in a warm embrace. "What’s this? You look like you’ve got something up your sleeve."

You smile, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "Maybe I do," you tease, your heart racing a little faster.

He raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What’s my surprise?"

Nervously, you slide the turned-over paper across the smooth counter towards him, your fingers trembling slightly. His smile, ever so warm, flickers with curiosity as his eyes drop to the paper.

Everything you rehearsed, fades, goes.

It’s like trying to grasp water, it just slides through your fingers as your hand hovers over the paper, flattening it, pressing it to the counter as though willing it to vanish. You’re thrumming, vibrating, unsure if you’ll even be able to keep your voice level as you clear your throat.

“So, you can totally rip this to pieces—but, happy six years.”

Nervously, you slide the turned-over paper across the smooth counter towards Frankie, your fingers trembling slightly. His smile, ever so warm, flickers as his eyes drop to the paper as you begin talking, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“I know it’s late, and I know it was a bit ago, but firstly, just know I love you. And I love what you do—all of it. Harolds, Instagram...”

Tilting his head, a flash of nervousness ripples out across his face. “Rainy, you’re making me nervous.”

Shaking your arms out, you smile. “Don’t be. I can be nervous, you can’t be.”

“Oh, is that how this goes.”

Grinning, you nod. His hand takes yours, his other trailing up and down your forearm as he stares into your eyes—as though trying to have a conversation with your soul. Almost commanding you to breathe, to take a second, both things you do before licking your lips.

“You’re so good with your hands—” You don’t miss his snort, “and at DIY, at renovating. That room in there, it’s beautiful, everything I thought I ever wanted.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a hint of confusion crossing his features.

“You’re good at it. So good. People are reaching out to you and you don’t even have the time.”

“I know, I just—”

“Let me finish, please baby.”

You take another deep breath, trying not to shift nervously on the spot. Sliding the paper closer to him, you press on. “You can say no. We can pretend I never did this, never even brought it up. I don’t want to be someone who makes you do something you don’t want to do, but I also don’t want to be someone who doesn’t support you, who doesn’t champion you and make you feel like you can.”

“Rainy… what’s going on?”

Biting your lip, you exhale loudly. “Turn it over.”

And he does. Dropping his hand from your fingers to do so.

All you can do is watch.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as he does so. Your heart thumping into your ribs, anxiety rippling and spreading out as it turns over and you see the moment his eyes spot it, take it in.

His eyes gaze up and down the paper, taking in the logo you’ve spent weeks on. The one with a new name, with ‘by Frank.DIY’ in the corner. Raindrops in the top corner, for you, and a flash of orange for butterscotch; tools and a house with a broken roof, details that he might not notice at first glance, but you hope he will on further ones.

Then there’s just silence.

Unreadable, bubbling silence that makes you shift. Makes your inside knot and twist as you try to give him a moment, a minute. Failing.

“I remember you told me you didn’t think you deserved to own anything. And I know you, and the others, faced a lot before I even knew your name. But, Frankie, I’m here to prove you otherwise—when you’re ready.”

His face lifts to you, the paper under his hand, fingers outstretched over it, a look so nondescript on his face that your pulse begins to pound in your ears.

Mouth falling open, you want to ask him to speak, to say something, but you’re not sure you can find the words. Having prepared for anger, for joy, but not something in the middle that was hard to label or describe.

Less so when he places the paper down. When he stands, and you subconsciously mirror him—his hand scratching the back of his neck, skin turning a shade of pink you hadn’t banked on.

“I should… I should give you a moment, right?”

Moving, stepping out from behind your side of the counter, fidgeting, moving slowly as you try to find words and form thoughts to choose a place to go hide in.

“I crossed a line, and I’m—”

He doesn’t let you go far, fingers sliding around your wrist, tugging, pausing you in your step. And it’s silent, just covered by your slight heavy breathing as your teeth nip at the skin of your lips, as your other fingers twitch nervously at your side—desperate to pick, to scratch. To anything to root—

Then, he’s pulling you flush to him, lips crashing to yours in a way that steals both your breath and your worries.

“I’m sorry, Frankie—”

His palm cups your cheeks, and tilts you to look at him. “You really believe in me.”

Heart settling, warmth spreading. “Absolutely, Frankie. I always have.” The look he gives you undoes you, makes the worries melt and instead be consumed by the need to comfort. “Have done since you measured my office without even using a measuring tape.”

Swallowing, with difficulty, he tries to smile at your joke. “I can't... I can't believe you made me this... Baby, it’s so good.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No. No, sorry—no. Overwhelmed, maybe?”

Smiling, nodding, you swallow. “Yeah, I didn’t—should have done more of a speech.”

Laughing, his eyes close, the tip of his nose brushing yours, just keeping you there, fixed, paused. Your hands slowly rise to stroke at the underside of his forearms, just like he did—the paper there, turned upright on the counter.

“Tell me.”

Two words he’s begun to say more when he can hear the cogs turning—when he can tell that there’s more bursting and bobbing around your mind.

“Frankie…”

“I know you. So, tell me.”

Sighing, you avert your eyes, when he taps your arm and you take his hand, leading him into your living room, sitting, finding further proof that it doesn’t feel half as warm as his—not even close to as comfortable.

Taking a breath, you smile. “The other week, when you asked me if I’d live with you. If you meant what you said, I’d love to live with you.” Your free hand, the one not inside his on his bent knee, raises, pausing. “But we don’t have to sell here, I’m not sure we’d make much, and that’s a decision to make to—”

“Rainy.”

Nodding, you take another breath. “Now, this is all hypothetical. It’s your choice—”

Smiling, he tightens the hold on your hand. “Ours.”

Rolling your lips, sighing. “Ours. But, we could use this house for your business—keep things here. Operate meetings from the office because it is too beautiful not to use—and you’ve worked too hard on it not to show it off. Or we can sell here, use the little that’s from it to set you up one of those summer house things so you can work from that.”

“I can’t leave Harold.”

Biting your lip briefly, you smile, tipping your chin. “He thought you’d say that.”

Brows lifting, Frankie slowly frowns.

“He's got a real eye for things—helped me with the logo quite a bit. Gave me some constructive feedback—as did the boys. I never told them what it was, but…”

“That was what Will almost dropped you in on at the fight.”

Grinning, you squeeze his hand. “I could have kicked him. Will guessed what I was doing first, I had only asked a question—but I just told them you’d mentioned rebranding. But he guessed and then he helped where he could. He's been looking at getting on your truck for you.”

Frankie laughs, raising his hand to scratch the back of his head as his nostrils flare.

“And when I nipped in to grab those bits for you, I asked Harry about working there—jokingly. I think that’s when he caught on,” you say, shaking your head. “Don’t think I’m good at surprises. But he brought it up, me working with him, that day I helped?”

“Baby…”

“Anyway, I could take your place, Harold’s would be covered still, and then when I can, I can help you—probably just with painting, think if we did any woodworking I’d slow us down.”

Frankie snorts, fingers scratching at the curls above his forehead. “I can’t ask you to give up your job.”

“You’re not. I… Frankie, I like what I do, but only sometimes. I’m burnt out. You even asked the other week if it was making me happy, and it isn’t. And, look, I’m not saying it’s forever, but for now, I can do it when I choose to, be picky. I can be an extra pair of hands when you need it, helping you get off the ground, and can use the discount when needed for little bits.”

His other hand comes over the top of the ones linked, eyes soft, gentle, and sweet.

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to do it. It’s your choice—you deserve a choice, Frankie. And if you don’t use the logo, that’s fine, but I will put it on a flask for when I make you lunches.”

Laughing, he dips his head, before lifting it to meet yours. “If I choose not to do it, will you still move in with me?”

“Are you finally, really asking me?”

Biting the inside of his cheek, tilting his head to the side, he nods.

You smile, leaning closer, arms wrapping around his neck. “Well, I would love to move in with you, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, taking in a deep breath. “Yeah. Because if it's not clear, there's not a thing I want more than a future with you, Butterscotch.”

TO THE EPILOGUE ->

do not be alarmed, we still have the epilogue. but, long time fans will know that jo is more emotional at the chapter prior to the epilogue than the epilogue. this is where my goodbye begins.

firstly, thank you. to every single person who gave me a chance to tell a hardware!frankie story, for letting rainy into your hearts, and for letting this become what it is. this is the longest thing I've written in years, and a reminder of the reason why i love writing so much.

this entire thing wouldn't be possible without @secretelephanttattoo and i will be forever grateful for her pushing me to do this, especially when i think she could tell i was swirling down a drainhole with something else. it was a raft, those cute rings you throw when someone is drowning, so thank you, my dear friend.

and, this entire thing wouldn't be what you love, if it wasn't for the encouragement from @goodwithcheese. who each week began her excitement that made me giddy, from guess the paint shade to letting me share with her my big plans for this chapter first. when i thought i was losing the path, she reminded me the path was very much there, i just needed to take a breath.

and then finally, a special thank you to @thetriumphantpanda who holds my hand a lot more than you lot thing. who read the first chapter of this when we met and got so excited with me i had to really hold back tears.

to my darling @morallyinept who told me she loves my frankie, you don't know what those words did for me on a day where i almost walked away, to the amazing and brilliant @toomanytookas who understood rainy on a level that we can both share, and to @covetyou my lo <3 for being there every week and also for understanding how conflicted and odd i feel about next week.

truly there is so many more of you i wish to thank, but i am honestly sobbing writing this. this may be the hardest pairing I've had to let go of (and i know, we have another week, but my grief has begun so.. shh).

i love you all, I'll see you next week. thank you for letting me tell a story that means more to me than there are enough words for me to explain why.

[megalony]

It's Yours

This is a new Evan Buckley imagine, based on an anon request. I hope you will all like it. Any feedback is always much appreciated and thank you for all the lovely requests I'm trying to work my way through them.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) breaks up with her abusive boyfriend, and finds a lot more than she bargained for with Evan, the guy at the bar who takes her home.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pushing her glass across the bar, (Y/n) stretched her arms out in font of her and leaned her head forward. Her lips curved into a small, tepid smile and she nodded at the bartender to refill her empty glass. She wanted her fourth drink and she wanted to feel a buzz. Now.

Usually cocktails gave a very strong buzz despite tasting nothing like alcohol and feeling more like orange juice. (Y/n) wasn't feeling anything tonight.

Her fingers curled around the long neck of the cocktail glass and she rolled the glass between her finger and thumb so she could remove the edging of sugar all around the rim of the glass. Once each fleck of sugar was gone, (Y/n) downed the drink all in one go.

She watched the bartender disappear to the other end of the bar and lazily pushed the glass away from her again. He would know to refill it once he came back this way.

When she felt her phone vibrate next to her arm, she twisted her arm to try and reach for it. The cocktails must have started to have an effect as her hand knocked her phone off the edge of the bar rather than reaching to grab it. At least it landed on a carpeted floor. No chance of having a broken screen to finish off a horribly rough night.

(Y/n) leaned down over the side of the bar stool and grabbed her phone, but as she reeled back up again, the back of her head bashed into something.

A gasp burned at the back of her throat and her free hand moved to cradle the back of her head, letting go of the edge of the bar that she had gripped to keep her balance. Before (Y/n) even started to sway or wobble, a hand curled firmly around her elbow and her temple pressed into someone's abdomen.

"I- I'm so sorry!" Words tumbled from the stranger's lips like a waterfall.

The hand that was around her elbow effortlessly took her weight and lifted her back up so she was sitting upright in her seat again like she weighed nothing more than a feather.

No words left (Y/n)'s lips when she looked up.

He was handsome. The striped black and white shirt he wore seemed two sizes too small for him. It made his shoulders bulge out against the material and the short cuffs over his biceps looked like they were digging into his muscle like a turniquet trying to cut off his circulation. He had a broad, hard chest and high-waisted black trousers pulled tight over his hips.

His hair was the colour of brown sugar and formed soft waves that were swept to the back of his head.

Those eyes were the deepest shade of blue (Y/n) had ever seen and they looked glossed over as if they were crafted out of clay and paint that hadn't had chance to dry. His lips were a dark shade of rouge and when he darted his tongue out over his lower lip, (Y/n) found herself taking a sharp breath.

"Are you alright?" Concern pooled in his enlarged pupils and she realised his hand was still holding onto her elbow. While his other hand was clenched tight around a beer bottle that was meshed up into his shirt.

"I'm okay," Her voice came out quiet and weak and (Y/n) internally cringed at her tone. Why did she sound so childish?

She dropped her hand from the back of her head before she trailed her palm over the back of her neck and down between her shoulders. She must have clocked her head into his elbow and spilt his drink. His bottle was half-empty but (Y/n) could see beige droplets coating his hand and down the neck of the bottle. Some of the beer had gone down the back of her cardigan and through to her shirt.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking, uh… can I buy you a drink, to say sorry?"

His hand finally dropped from her elbow and (Y/n) suddenly felt lonesome and cold, but she tried to brush off the feeling.

Evan watched the way her eyes darted down to the bottle in his hand before she looked back up at him. The way she bit her lip made his chest tighten and he could do nothing but watch the way she brushed a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.

"I spilt your drink, I think I owe you a drink." When he motioned towards the vacant stool next to her, (Y/n) wordlessly nodded and turned to face the bar again. She dropped her phone on the counter and waved her hand to grab the bartender's attention. "What'll it be?"

"Whatever you're having."

"Two more please, keep them coming." (Y/n) slid her glass over the counter before she rolled her neck and shivered. She could feel the beer soaking into the back of her top and it made her skin prickle.

Her arms reached down behind her and she shimmied her black cardigan off her shoulders and let it pool on the floor, curved around the legs of the stool. At least her shirt didn't feel like it was soaked in beer, not a lot had spilled on her, thankfully. And the bar was starting to get crowded, all the bodies meshed together pushing into the bar, mulling around for a table and the people dancing in the far corner were creating a lot of heat. The AC didn't seem to be working either which wasn't helping.

Evan felt his breath hitching in his throat when she let her jacket drop down to the floor. It made her hair fan across her shoulders that were exposed to his eyes and he let his eyes wander down her frame despite everything in him telling him not to oogle.

She was wearing a dark navy blue shirt that hung off both her shoulders with thin straps and the bottom of her shirt was tucked into her jeans that cut off just before her ankles. He could see her foot swaying back and forth, rocking and shimmying the small black heels on her feet like she was waving daggers around for protection.

He could feel his teeth sinking into his lip until his eyes trailed down her arms.

Bruises.

She had fresh bruising pooling on her lower left forearm that was closest to him and markings and scratches around her wrist. When Evan trailed his eyes back along her exposed skin, he noticed a deep red scratch along her neck starting just beneath her ear.

When their eyes locked, Evan forced his lips to curve into a smile and he kept hs eyes trained on her face so she wouldn't think he was staring at her oddly.

"I'm Evan, but everyone calls me Buck."

"(Y/n)."

She nodded her head at him and slid a glass his way and her smile made Evan's stomach flip. He could see her sinking her teeth into her lip to stop her smile from becoming too wide as if she thought smiling somehow ruined her features or would push him away.

He took the glass and clinked it against hers before taking a large gulp. "What brings you here?"

(Y/n) tried to pace herself and only drink half her glass instead of throwing the whole drink back in one. She didn't want to embarrass herself or push away the handsome stranger who had decided to talk to her tonight. Her finger moved to swirl around the rim of her glass and she slowly collected the tiny cubes of sugar before she bit down on her finger and let the sugar dissolve on her tongue.

"Bad night… what about you?" It had been a bad night for (Y/n). One of the worser nights she had spent and the only solace she could find was drowning herself in alcohol to try and make the panic dwindle away.

Marcus had no right to speak to her the way he had done tonight.

Every time he threw a fist at her, (Y/n) walked away. He was starting to become dangerous. For the last four or five months, (Y/n) must have walked out on him over seven times already. When he tried to hit her, she left. When he grabbed her and tossed her onto the sofa, she smacked him and walked out, promising herself she wouldn't go back.

It was harder than she thought when he turned up on her doorstep, refusing to leave. It felt easier to let him worm his way back into her life with sordid excuses and feeble promises of never being that cruel or rude or hateful again. She had been with him for two and a half years. It was hard to throw that time away and call it quits.

Especially when no one else seemed to want to be around her and all she could hear in the back of her head was Marcus's voice telling her she couldn't do any better than him. No one else was going to put up with her or want to be around her and if she truly loved him and knew he loved her, she didn't have the right to walk away.

"I've just pulled a triple shift and… I don't know, didn't fancy going home to an empty place, I guess."

Evan hadn't been home in over two days and this afternoon when he finally finished his long shift and was able to go home, something told him not to. He showered and changed at the station, left his jeep in the station car park and made his way into town.

Something told Evan to wander into a bar and have a drink. Going home to an empty apartment wasn't appealing. He and Taylor had broken up; he couldn't be dealing with someone who wasn't willing to put him first and who could so easily break his trust without thinking it was a problem.

And when the rest of the team were going home to their families, Evan suddenly felt lonelier than ever and he wasn't going home to cement that fact in his mind. At least not unless he was drunk and able to cope with his loneliness.

"What do you do?"

"I work for the fire department. You?"

"Oh wow. I'm a book editor, nothing as exciting or strenuous as you I'm afraid." (Y/n) finished the rest of her drink and something within her told her to prepare for Evan to leave. After all, what would a fireman be doing talking to a little book worm like her?

But surprise flooded her face and parted her lips when he pushed their empty glasses across the bar and asked for a round of shots. Was he really going to stay and talk to her? Why was someone like him sitting with someone like her? If he thought he had to stay out of pity (Y/n) would correct him. He didn't have to hang around for her benefit, he could go home with anyone in the whole place or chat up someone else.

He wouldn't want to spend the rest of his night boring himself to death talking to her… would he?

He stayed. (Y/n) wasn't sure how long they had been sat at the bar, but it was long enough for the bartender to switch shifts with someone else and for the music on the dance floor to get even louder to accomodate everyone piling in the bar.

Glasses lined the bar in front of her and Evan and she could tell he was getting tipsy now whereas she finally started to feel that drunken buzz that made her head swim and her muscles to loosen up and feel relaxed.

She loved the way Evan leaned his head on his arm and grinned over at her. He suddenly looked so childish and carefree and overall charming, even after however many drinks they had downed during the evening.

She didn't want to tear her gaze away from him, but she looked to the right when her phone started to vibrate and jump on the bar.

It was Marcus.

Without thinking, (Y/n) double clicked the side button and cut the call. She wasn't giving him the time of day. Not when the call disappeared and she could see flashes of all the texts he had sent since she walked out the door.

'Where are you?' 'Where the fuck did you go?' 'You need to come home. Now. We have to talk.' 'Why do you always do this to me?' '(Y/n) ANSWER ME!'

Blocking his number didn't work. Marcus would just change his number and turn up on her doorstep and make her unblock his phone. He never seemed to let her go and (Y/n) always let him back in.

Not this time. Not after he'd gone so far as to try and grab her neck. If she hadn't of swung her fist out and clamped him round the side of the head, she knew he would of strangled her. It was why her neck now burned with a large scratch and why he had tried to grab her and twist her wrist to prevent her from leaving. She wasn't going back to his place anymore. She wasn't going to let him back into her apartment or let him walk all over her and get controlling again.

They were finished and Marcus had to understand that. He had to know he couldn't have anymore control over (Y/n).

"All good?" Even in his drunken state, Evan noticed the shiver that rolled down (Y/n)'s arms and the way she delicately brushed her fingertips absentmindedly over the mark on her neck.

But when she looked back at him, her lips curved into a smile. A genuine, dazzling curve of her lips that was nothing like how she had tried to smile at the start of the night. He watched her push her phone away and turn on the stool until she was facing him and her knees bumped into his.

"All good," She repeated with a drunken nod of her head.

Evan wasn't sure where the sudden burst of adrenaline came from, but he pushed up so he was sitting straight and he leaned across until he could just about nudge the end of his nose against hers. His left arm stayed slumped on the bar while his right hand reached out to cup her jaw.

He brushed his thumb across her jaw and gently swiped it across her lower lip that he couldn't stop staring at.

He stole all the air from her lungs when he kissed her.

(Y/n) reached her hand out to cup the wrist that was near her chin and she held onto him for dear life, as if letting go would cause her to fall and never land. She felt his tongue prodding at her lips, asking for entrance while his fingers curled around the side of her jaw, but Evan's touch was so much softer and more reaffirming than what she was used to or expecting.

When he pulled back, (Y/n) tipped her forehead against his and heaved to catch her breath back. She could feel his breaths fanning against her lips and his lower lip started to swell from where she had sank her teeth down into it.

There was a hooded look in his eyes and his lips curved up into a widespread grin that felt infectious.

"Wanna get out of here?"

(Y/n) leaned over until her free hand could slide over Evan's knee and shift along his thigh while her lips captured his. She felt his leg jump when she squeezed his upper thigh and leaned closer until she was about to fall off her chair and directly onto his lap. He had stolen the words right out her mouth.

She did want to leave. She wanted to get out of this crowded bar and she wanted him to take her somewhere. Anywhere. As long as he took her with him.

"Definitely."

***

"Can we talk?"

'You're not the one I need to talk to.' Those words hung on the tip of (Y/n)'s tongue but she couldn't bring herself to say them. She couldn't say something that would rile him up and provoke him, that was the last thing she needed right now.

(Y/n) curved her arms around her chest, binding them tight to see if it would do anything to reduce the panic swarming through her chest or make her think of him. Of Evan. If she closed her eyes and squeezed tight enough, it might make her feel like she had him wrapped around her.

She wanted to feel that sense of security he gave her.

Her head tilted back against the brick wall and she dropped her eyes to her feet, not wanting to give Marcus the satisfaction of looking him in the eye.

She had gone almost three months without seeing him or bumping into him. This was the first time she had properly managed to break up with him and stay away from him for good. She didn't go back and ask to smooth things over. She didn't have him banging on her apartment door at one in the morning because he knew she would have to let him in or risk neighbours calling the police.

He hadn't turned up at her place of work- until today, for near on three months.

(Y/n) had finally started to move away from him and move on and she had found someone who she had suddenly become attached to.

Sleeping with Evan the first night she met him hadn't been something (Y/n) planned to do, but it happened nonetheless. Waking up in his bed had been a shock for both of them, but not a bad one.

She left for work the next morning before realising she didn't get Evan's number. When she closed her eyes, she could imagine that second time she saw him.

* She was being silly. It was probably a one-night stand for him. He most likely didn't give her his number for a reason. He didn't want to see her again or call her or text her. She was just a distant memory that could already have faded from his mind for all (Y/n) knew. She was the bookworm he picked up two weeks ago at a bar. He could have picked her up and brought her home to win a bet.

Would he really have brought her home if he only wanted one night with her? Why not ask to go back to her place instead of his? Why let her see his home and know where he lived and let her stay the night if all he wanted was sex that could be forgotten in the morning?

Why would he-

Her breath caught like a lump in the back of her throat and her arms bound around her chest so her hands could scrunch up in her shirt when her eyes locked on him.

He was home. The last two times (Y/n) had tried to visit and see if he was home, he wasn't in and she could only guess that he was out at work.

She watched the way his hand tightened around the door and his jaw slacked and for a horrible moment, (Y/n) thought he was going to slam the door shut in her face. She thought he was going to roll his eyes or sigh or plainly tell her to leave. But he didn't.

"(Y/n)." Her name fell from his lips like an angel falling from grace and before she could move, Evan was suddenly reaching out for her. "Finally."

Evan's last word caught her by surprise but he didn't give her the chance to question what he meant by that. His arm swooped around her waist and he reeled her inside like she had been stood out in the rain for far too long. Her hands found his shoulders to steady herself before she tripped and she wanted to smile but she couldn't.

His lips devoured hers before she could grin or say hello or ask him how he was.

She let him lean down and plaster his chest up against hers and she almost melted when his hand pressed up against her lower back to keep her close. (Y/n) had been thinking of what to say if he ever opened the door to her when she dropped by.

When she left for work after their night together, he'd asked her to call him and she promised she would. But she walked out the door and picked up Evan's keys by mistake and then realised when she got to work that she didn't even have his number saved in her phone.

She could of slid the keys beneath his apartment door and said no more about it, but she held onto them for the chance that he would be home when she came by. And she needed her keys back. She was using her spare set of keys to get in and out her apartment.

When he pulled back for air, Evan pulled (Y/n) inside and nudged the door shut. He let his temple press down into hers and he couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. He didn't have any way to get hold of her after she left. He didn't have her number, he didn't know where she lived or where she worked. All he had was the bar they met in and that wasn't much help.

He had been praying she would come back to his place and after two weeks, his wishes had finally paid off.

He kept both his hands clamped down on her hips as if needing to make sure she wasn't about to break free from his arms and try to disappear on him again. He could barely register the way she pulled out his keychain from her pocket and jingled it in front of him.

"Thanks," He breathed quietly against her lips as he moved one hand from her waist to grab the keys. He tossed them onto the side unit near the door and leaned down until his hands cupped the back of (Y/n)'s thighs.

He felt the way her hands slid round from his shoulders to cup the back of his neck and she let him lift her up so her legs could hook around his torso.

The feeling of his lips attaching back to hers made (Y/n) feel lightheaded and she dug her nails into the back of his neck to try and ground herself. But it earned a guttural groan to vibrate up through Evan's chest and the sound only made her press her lips down harder onto his. She sunk her teeth into his llip and gave a sharp tug while he turned and started to walk into the apartment.

And she was sure she heard him mutter "I'm getting your number this time," against her lips. *

"Can we talk?" Marcus's voice came out a lot sterner and colder this time and it made (Y/n) grimace as she pulled herself out of a memory and back to the present.

She juggled her bag higher on her shoulder and nodded. Her arms stayed wrapped around her waist for comfort more than anything else and she pushed off the wall and started walking. He could follow her this time. Marcus could follow her head and her instructions and realise they were doing things by her rules.

He wasn't grabbing her and dragging her away, he wasn't picking where they went and he wasn't going to steer the conversation his way.

(Y/n) needed to talk to him. She needed to make sure he understood that the last three months had been the best of her life because she had been away from him. They were broken up this time, for good, and she wasn't going back to him.

She had had two one-night stands and a date with Evan and that was what (Y/n) wanted. She wanted to try and make something with Evan and forget Marcus was ever in her life.

(Y/n) led him round the corner, away from her work and to the nearest cafe. When Marcus tried to reach out to hold her arm, she shook him off and added a safe amount of distance between them so not even their arms could accidentally brush together.

"What do you want to talk about?" Her voice was cold and indifferent and she found a table in the corner of the cafe, out the way of everyone else. It was a strange coincidence that Marcus had found her today. Right when she knew she had to talk to him to make sure things were ironed out between the, before she had to talk to Evan.

She slumped into a seat and dropped her bag beneath the table by her feet while Marcus moved to sit opposite her.

He dragged his hand through his hair, brushing the loose, greasy curls away from his eyes and behind his ears. He pressed both his elbows down into the table and kept one hand curled around the back of his neck like he was holding his head up as if his neck had suddenly been broken.

"Us."

(Y/n) couldn't refrain from rolling her eyes and she let herself sink back into the uncomfortable wooden chair with her arms still crossed over her chest.

"This is the longest you've held out on me. When are you gonna come home?" He always seemed to think referring to his place as home would soften (Y/n) up and make her want to go back with him.

She had moved out of her old apartment and moved in with Marcus after being together a few months. But last year after he grabbed her by her hair in public, (Y/n) moved out. She got her own apartment and left him. It didn't stop Marcus from coming back time and time again and (Y/n) usually went back to him. Their turbulent relationship had been on and off again for over a year now, but (Y/n) always kept her apartment and never went back to living with Marcus.

She would stay with him from time to time, but she never lived with him. It wasn't safe. And she didn't want to be in a relationship with him anymore.

"Being with you isn't my home Marcus, and you know it." She could feel panic rocketing through her chest when Marcus suddenly sat forward and leaned over the table. But whatever he wanted to retaliate with, he swallowed down because a waitress came over to ask for their order.

"Coffee." He grumbled while he clenched his hands together in front of him and pressed his knuckles against his lips.

"Iced tea please," (Y/n) pulled her sleeves down over her hands and dropped her arms so her hands were left on her lap.

"(Y/n), come on. You always come back. We're good together, you're supposed to be with me and you need to come home. I've forgiven you."

(Y/n) face dropped and she sat upright with a scoff. She could feel tears bubbling over in her eyes already and she tried her best to bite them back and control herself. How dare he. Why was he trying to pin this on her? Who could she kid, he always made it seem like it was her fault. If he hit her, she provoked him. If he shouted, it was because she argued with him first. If she left, it was because she was being petty and stupid. Nothing was his fault. Ever.

"You- you've forgiven me… what for? You were the one who attacked me-"

"I didn't attack you, stop exaggerating." He snapped his jaw like a crocodile and slammed his hands down when the waitress brought their drinks over. He made the poor girl jump back and spill some of the iced tea down her hand, but neither of them dared say anything until she walked away.

"I was the one with the bruises! You tried to grab my throat, why the Hell would you need to forgive me when I had every right to leave?"

Anger riled through (Y/n) and she suddenly didn't want her drink anymore. She reached out for the straw and started to prod and poke at the ice cubes clinking together in the tall glass. She had nothing to apologise for.

When Evan asked where the bruises on her arms came from and the scratch on her neck, (Y/n) didn't see the point in hiding it. She found herself being suddenly open and honest with Evan and she wasn't sure why. He made her feel safe. She felt able to tell him that Marcus had a flaring temper that made him aggressive and sometimes, (Y/n) didn't know what set him off.

Evan hastened to tell her she didn't do anything. None of this was her doing and she had no reason to apologise to Marcus now.

"Just come home-"

"No. Marcus… please, listen to me now." (Y/n) pushed her drink to one side and stretched her hands out to plant them on the table. "This has to stop. I don't want to be with you, I'm done with you. With everything, it's finished. So you need to start leaving me alone, for good."

He laughed. He had the nerve to sit there and laugh as if she was telling him a silly joke or as if this was all a game and he thought he was winning.

"Why would you say something so stupid? You do this routine every time we have a fight, (Y/n). You come crawling back, always have and always will-"

"I'm pregnant."

She spoke before she lost her nerve.

(Y/n) had to tell Marcus because she was ninety percent sure that her dates weren't mixed up and that this couldn't be his baby. They used protection whereas (Y/n) knew she didn't when she was with Evan. A rookie mistake, but it made her sure this was Evan's baby and not Marcus's.

But she needed to tell him because she wanted him to stay away from her. If he knew she had moved on and slept with someone else, he would be jealous but he might just stay away from her now. And he would do the math in his head and try to work out for them both and make sure this wasn't his child. (Y/n) couldn't have a baby with him. She couldn't have that attachment to Marcus for the rest of her life or she would never be free of him.

"You're joking me, right?" His lips quirked up to one side and he folded his arms over his chest like he thought this was some sort of test.

"No. I'm about eleven weeks-"

"You can't be."

"What?" Her shoulders dropped and she sighed. If he wanted evidence she would take the test out of her bag and show him the results from her trip to the doctors. That would be enough to prove to him that she was having a baby and he had to give up and leave her alone now.

"I can't have kids (Y/n). I'm infertile, so you can't be pregnant. Stop trying to fuck about and twist everything, if you want me back you don't have to come up with this lame excuse."

He couldn't see the relief in her eyes. Marcus couldn't sense the adrenaline fluttering around in (Y/n)'s stomach as she sank back in her chair and threw her head back. Her eyes fell closed before her head started to swim and she found herself grinning very slightly.

It was Evan's.

If Marcus couldn't have kids, it had to be Evan's baby just like she predicted it would be. Now she thought about it, (Y/n) was sure when she first got with Marcus, she remembered him saying something along the lines of 'you don't have to worry about that' when she asked if he had protection. She paid no mind to it, she didn't give it a second thought.

But he was adamant, he was being serious. (Y/n) could see it in his eyes and it made her happy beyond words. She would never have something that attached her to Marcus for the rest of her life. If she wanted to cut him from her life, she had every right and every chance now. It just left Evan for her to worry about.

"(Y/n)!"

A bolt of pain shot through her knee when Marcus slammed his foot into her leg but she bit down her cry and jolted to look back at him. Her hands fumbled to grab her bag beneath the table and she pulled out the positive pregnancy test so she could slide it across the table.

"How can you-"

"Because it's not yours, Marcus. So you need to stay away from me now, I'm through with you."

He really was slow sometimes. It didn't dawn on him that when they separated, (Y/n) might find someone else or sleep with someone else for a one night stand. He thought she moped around her flat, waiting for him to call or come back and ask her to come home. He thought (Y/n)'s world revolved solely around him and that showed how shallow he really was.

"Well then who the fuck's is it?" His voice suddenly boomed around the cafe and (Y/n) shivered, sinking down in her seat when heads started to turn in their direction.

This was why she wanted to talk in public. She had been planning to call and ask to talk but she wanted to be somewhere with witnesses. (Y/n) was through with being alone in a secluded flat with Marcus and not having any way to prove how he treated her when he lost his temper.

"Who have you been whoring around with? Do you even know his name? Who have you slept with?"

A scream burst past (Y/n)'s lips and her shoulders hunched inwards as she leaned towards the wall on her left when Marcus lashed out. He grabbed her glass of iced tea that was in the middle of the table and launched it her way, narrowly missing her head by half a centimetre.

She could feel the ice cubes hitting her arms before they clattered to the floor and a whole load of the cold tea drenched her neck and her right arm, soaking through her shoulder and into her waist and made her shiver. Glass sprinkled against the wall behind her and (Y/n) stayed deathly still with her eyes closed, waiting for the atmosphere and the glass to settle before she dared move.

Her trembling hands planted down on the table and she tried to stand up, she wanted to leave now.

Marcus was causing a scene and (Y/n) hated being around when he did something like this. She didn't want the attention falling on her and right now, people were getting up from their seats and trying to approach them. She wanted to go home.

"Please don't do this-"

"You think I'm letting you get away with this little stunt? Tell me his name!"

(Y/n) scraped her chair back and stumbled but she couldn't move quick enough before Marcus latched his fingers into her hair and wrenched her towards him. Her nails scratched into his wrist as she screamed, closing her eyes as tightly as she could when he pushed her down to her knees.

She could feel the broken glass and soggy tea soaking into her knees and it felt like blisters had suddenly sweltered onto her skin when the sharp, jagged pieces tore through her leggings and into her skin.

No one dared move closer when one of the waiter's approached and Marcus threw a chair in his direction.

(Y/n) pinned her hands over her head and tried to take deep breaths. Her blood was pounding in her ears and her stomach was churning, but she could just about make out a frightened woman say she was dialling 911.

She didn't have the strength or the energy to try and get up when Marcus leaned back over her again. She kept her eyes tightly closed but she could hear the cafe door opening and the few people inside were starting to rush out onto the street. No one was going to come near Marcus when there was a knife on the table next to him and is eyes kept going back to it.

He would attack anyone who came near.

Her body shuddered and she cried out when Marcus gripped her chin and tilted her head up, shaking her head until she groaned and finally looked up at him.

"What's the fucker's name?" His voice turned oddly calm and serene and it made (Y/n) shiver down to her shoes.

(Y/n) tilted her head to the side to pull out of his grasp and she held her head high when Marcus crouched down in front of her. His elbows rested on his knees and he laced his fingers together between his thighs while he waited somewhat patiently for an answer. His chest was heaving, spit was dribbling down the corner of his chin and his eyes were wild. (Y/n) had never seen such a frightening, rabid look in his eyes before.

She didn't answer. Instead, (Y/n) lifted her head so they were level and spat in his face.

Her head reeled to the right when he slapped her. The back of his hand lashed out against her face and she knew he'd managed to cut her cheek with the sharp edge of his ring. The pain countered out with adrenaline after half a second and all (Y/n) could feel was panic bubbling up in her chest like a pot about to boil over on the stove.

She couldn't remember the last time Marcus had been like this with her in public. He always kept their fights behind closed doors, he knew how to play the situation in public. He knew how to pretend to be clingy or sweet or act a gentleman and then throw his fists when they got home. The news had clearly derranged Marcus today.

"His name."

"Why? Do you want him to give you some pointers?"

When he reeled back to slap her again, (Y/n) thrust her arms out and rammed them into his chest to knock him off balance. The moment he fell onto his back, (Y/n) used the nearest table as leverage to get herself up onto trembling legs. She stumbled over Marcus and aimed for the door while she heard him roar and slam his hands and feet into the floor to try and get up.

A ragged, breathless scream left (Y/n)'s lips when she felt Marcus behind her and she curled her hand around the door and yanked it open. She flung the door open as fast as she could while she ducked down to the right.

Marcus's hand went straight through the glass pane. His fist burst through the glass which imbedded into his forearm and scratched down his wrist. But the window pane didn't completely shatter. (Y/n) had unintentionally trapped Marcus's arm in the door and it was her chance. She crawled through the small open gap in the door and stumbled into the doorway.

Her legs gave way and she slumped down onto her knees, moving to sit down with her back up against the wall as she heaved each breath through bubbling cries.

The sound of sirens overpowered the sound of Marcus screaming as he tried to drag his hand back through the window.

A fire truck pulled up. They must have been the closest emergency service available when that woman called 911. The police had to be on their way soon, they needed to take Marcus into custody and keep him as far away from (Y/n) as possible.

"LAFD, what's the situation here?"

(Y/n) watched the older man climb down from the truck and leave his helmet on the side of the pavement. He had a red label in the centre of his helmet that read Captain. He was in charge. He made his way towards one of the waitresses but when the rest of his crew started to climb down from the truck, (Y/n) felt lightheaded.

Evan.

Oh God. This was his station department. This was the team he told her about, the people he worked with.

Why did he of all people have to come to this call out? What if Marcus said something and Evan caught on? She didn't want to have this conversation with Evan now. He wasn't going to be happy when he learned the girl he slept with was now pregnant. The girl he barely knew. The girl with a troublesome ex hovering in the background.

More tears streamed down (Y/n)'s face when Evan's eyes locked on her and she saw the panic bubbling up inside of them. She saw the panic written across his face and the way he picked up the pace to rush towards her.

"We're not finished-"

"No!" (Y/n) scraped her palms against the floor until they started to give her cuts and scratches. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled out into the street as Marcus freed his arm from the door and flung it wide open to try and grab her again.

Her body started to flag but (Y/n) ran, flinging her arm out at the captain who tried to grab her to calm her down. She wasn't aiming for him.

"S-stop him! Make h-him stop- please!" Words flew past her lips in a fluster as she made a beeline for Evan.

Her hands scratched deeply into his bicep and she used his arm as leverage to swing herself around and move behind him. Her face pressed between his shoulder blades and her hands scrunched up around his arm. Evan could feel how badly she was shaking when she started to make him jitter back and forth on the spot. He reached his left arm behind him and clamped his hand down on (Y/n)'s hip to keep her safe and secured behind him like he was a human shield.

It didn't take much for him to gather that this had to be her ex.

"Get back." The words seethed past Evan's lips while he reached his right hand out and slammed his palm into the man's chest. He gave him a forceful shove backwards while he walked back into (Y/n) and nudged her to move a few paces away. He needed to keep a safe distance between them all.

"Sir- that's enough. Stand over here so you can be assessed or we'll have to restrain you."

Bobby and Eddie grabbed one of Marcus's arms each and dragged him towards the doorway of the cafe. They slumped him down onto the floor with one of Bobby's hands pinned into his chest while Eddie held his damaged arm to try and take a look. They had the right to restrain him if he was going to try and attack someone in public.

The police were on their way to this scene now anyway, he would be arrested once he was patched up and given the all clear.

A deep sigh burned past Evan's lips before he released his hand from (Y/n)'s hip and turned around to face her. He could see the shaking rattling through her body and tears were streaming down her face although she did look a little calmer now than when they first pulled up.

"Are you alright… did he hurt you?"

(Y/n) rubbed her hands together, trying to flick off the grit and gravel stuck to her palms. She had a few little cuts on her hands but nothing substancial.

She stayed quiet when Evan held her wrists and pulled her hands up so he could inspect them for himself. But when he tilted his head to the side and looked down, his shoulders sagged and he bit down on the corner of his lip. Her knees were bleeding. Shards of glass were poking out through her leggings and blood was trickling down towards her ankles.

"Let's sit down, I'll take a look at that for you," He motioned down towards her knees but he turned to look over his shoulder when (Y/n) shuddered. Her eyes were focused on the scene behind him.

"Sir-"

"Marcus!"

"Alright. Marcus, let's put it this way. You try again to attack her, we restrain you and you'll be arrested. What is this argument about?" Bobby was getting tired. He was tired of trying to push Marcus down and make him stay sat down on the floor in front of the cafe.

He must realise that he and the other girl needed to be checked over and he couldn't try to keep attacking her in public like this. They had to be kept separate for their own sakes and he needed to let Eddie treat his arm that was cut up and still had shards of glass imbedded in it.

"Ask her! Ask her whose it is." Marcus flung his right arm out towards (Y/n) who visibly flinched and took a step back. "Go on. Whose bastard child is it, 'cos it sure as Hell ain't mine!"

A groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips before she brought her hands up to smother her face.

Why wouldn't he stop? Couldn't he for once, just leave her alone and stop causing a mess of everything? It didn't make things any easier that Evan was here and (Y/n) knew for certain that he had just heard what Marcus had said. He wasn't stupid. He could put two and two together and make four. He was going to find out and this wasn't how (Y/n) wanted to have this conversation with him.

It wasn't fair.

Panic radiated through (Y/n)'s system when she dared to move her hands down to cover her mouth and nose, allowing her eyes to be visible.

Evan had gone deathly pale. His hands were held halfway out between them like he wanted to reach for her but didn't know what to do or how he was supposed to act now. His eyes had gone suddenly blank even though his pupils had blown wide and his jaw slacked but he still didn't say anything.

Turning on her heels, (Y/n) stumbled away and moved as close to the fire truck as she could. She needed to be away from them all. She didn't want Evan to stand and look at her like that and she didn't want to be anywhere near Marcus. She didn't want to hear his threats or see those horrible, beady eyes glaring daggers into her. Being around him made her a target because he wasn't calming down at all.

Her body jumped when familiar hands clamped down on her arms and stopped her before she could walk any further.

Her back slumped down into a familiar chest and (Y/n) stayed still and silent, allowing Evan to gently turn her to the right. He moved her over until she could sit down on the step at the back of the fire truck.

(Y/n) rubbed her hands up and down her thighs while Evan stood in front of her, his knees almost touching hers with how close he stood. He had one hand on his hip and the other was dragging slowly through his hair until the waves were disgruntled and flopping about on his head.

"What did he mean? Is- are you- God, are you pregnant?"

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and kept her head tilted down, but she managed to lift her gaze just enough to look up at Evan through her lashes. She couldn't find any words. All the air was stuck in the back of her throat creating a blockage that was making her lungs quiver and tense in her chest. The only right answer was yes but (Y/n) couldn't bring herself to say it so she simply nodded her head.

"Is it mine?" His voice suddenly turned soft like he was melting before her and it made (Y/n)'s eyes narrow on him.

He wasn't shouting at her. He wasn't riling up, getting ready to start a fight with her or argue or say how much of a shitty situation this was. He wasn't even frowning at her. He was just… looking at her. Staring down with those soft blue eyes and those ruby red lips that were pressed together in a thin line.

"It's yours. I, I wasn't gonna tell you like this I swear." (Y/n) found her voice but it was meek and fast-paced until she was tripping over her words. And her hands were digging into her thighs to try and calm herself sown.

A quiet hum vibrated past Evan's lips before he moved to crouch down in front of her. His eyes trailed back along her knees that he would have to assess soon and try to patch them up. He moved his hands to her thighs and carefully parted them so he could kneel between her legs, feeling her trembling knees dig comfortably into his waist.

"Are you mad?"

"Mad?" Evan couldn't stop his lips from quirking up into a lopsided smile and he squeezed her thigh until she gathered the strength to move her hand and cup his wrist. "Why would I be mad? This might not be the ideal situation, but it's not a bad one either."

(Y/n) had played on Evan's mind since the moment they met. He couldn't think of anything or anyone else except her. She was the only thing playing on Evan's mind and he felt intoxicated by her; addicted to her.

This wasn't how he would have chosen for things to play out, this wasn't the perfect order for things to go. But this was the situation they found themselves in and they would have to make the most of it and see where it led them. Evan had always wanted kids, he knew that from the off. And now it seemed fate had decided this was the moment he started to have kids and something told him this was a good thing. Something told Evan that this was going to work out just fine.

"Really?" (Y/n) leaned forward until she was close enough to cup Evan's face in her hands. Her thumb brushed across his cheek and she leaned her forehead against his when a brighter smile broke out on his face.

"Yeah… I guess we've just done things in a different order to everyone else, huh?"

(Y/n) could barely comprehend his words when his lips pressed against hers. Maybe things were going to work out after all.

[lunarlianna]

Aphrodite asteroid

Aphrodite asteroid ( 1388): The name comes from the Greek Goddess Aphrodite, she was the Goddess of fertility, beauty, love and passion. In astrology the asteroid it’s also known for these specific traits, the asteroid can be found between the planet Mars and Jupiter and the orbit period it’s for almost 6 years. If this asteroid makes a close aspect (best are conjunctions) to your Asc or inner planets you may be blessed with beauty and magnetism. When evolved this asteroid can manifest as being in touch with your divine feminine, as being compassionate, generous and having sex-appeal, when it’s underdeveloped, the traits manifested are: vanity, sexual manipulation, obsession over beauty standards.

Aphrodite in Aries or at 1°, 13°, 25°/1st house: you have a magnetic personality, very fiery and independent. You may be very active or like physical activities, very sexual as well. Confident and bold you look good in colours red, orange or yellow. If it’s in the 1st house you may give off major goddess vibes but you need to be mindful and not fall into your more narcissistic tendencies. Be careful not to get addictive to adrenaline.

Aphrodite in Taurus or 2°, 14°, 26°/2nd house: Very soft and sensual energy, people are just simply mesmerized by you. High feminine energy, you may have a very classic glamours style, may prefer more earthly tones, green is the colour to go in your case. You may be very fertile and if in aspect with Uranus can mean unexpected pregnancies. You may have a beautiful neck or like to wear scarfs and necklaces. IF in 2nd house you may be materialistic and dramatic.

Aphrodite in Gemini or 3°, 15°, 27°/3rd house: you may be very expressive and have a lot of facial expressions. Vibrant personality and chatty, you may change our style quite often and have beautiful hands, if in conj with mercury this may give you a beautiful voice or high peached voice. Avoid drama and gossip. Words are your biggest weapon since you can sweet talk yourself out of any situation. Colours that work best for you are purple tones and light blue.  

Aphrodite in Cancer or 4°, 16°, 28°/4th house: you are very graceful and emotional driven. Very calm personality, fertility it’s also very high with this placement. You can be a jealous partner and quite possessive. You may have roundly shape features, you may prefer silk and pearls. Colours that look good on you are white or shades of white and dark blue. You may prefer your home to be very warm and welcoming to everyone.

Aphrodite in Leo or 5°, 17°, 29°/5th house: you bring a positive and optimistic energy. Very creative, you may like to do a lot of DIY. You are a proud person and you know how beautiful you are. You may have a big ego or behave from the ego rather than your heart when this asteroid is underdeveloped. Colours that work for you best are gold and yellow. You may like to have a collection of jewelleries, especially with rare stones.

Aphrodite in Virgo or 6°, 18°/6th house: you may have a very clean style and very sharp features but youthful looking. You may have great recommendation for books or movies. Colours that work best for you are brown, light green and light yellow. If in 6th house or at 18 degrees you may be prone to eating disorders and body dysmorphia. You may also have an obsession with skincare routines and some of you may prefer to follow a career in chemistry.

Aphrodite in Libra or 7°, 19°/7th house: you may have very beautiful, glamours skin and hair. You style if very romantic and chic, you may be very flirtatious also. As personality you can be charming, well-mannered and very dreamy. You enjoy having a lot of accessories and clothes. At home you may like to have a lot of plants or flowers, very cottages style home. Colours that are best for you can be shades of purple and blue. Also, you may enjoy the coffee smell and have coffee-based perfumes.  

Aphrodite in Scorpio or 8°, 20°/8th house: very seductive and magnetic energy, you can give of femme fatal vibes. You may be fit looking or enjoy being fit. Colours that work best for you are dark red, burgundy and black. If conj Mars/Uranus you can have a lot of sexual kinks or experiment a lot in the bedroom. You may have a very intense glaze or siren like eyes.  You may have the tendency to be possessive over your partner and overbearing. Try too not be very vindictive.

Aphrodite in Sagittarius or 9°, 21°/9th house: you may be very thick, especially around the thighs. You may have a very care-free personality and adventures. You may give off guru-like vibes and people want to follow you everywhere. You may have a high libido and be very fertile. Colours that work best for you are shades of red and purple. You may attract a lot of jealousy from others. It’s best for this placement to know when to take breaks since you may have the tendency to exaggerate with anything.

Aphrodite in Capricorn or 10°, 22°/10th house: your style it’s classic and very well put, old money vibe. You may have a very feminine energy but very intimidating. You may have high standards when it comes to your partners and you have traditional values. You may have beautiful bone structure and tall. Colours that work best for you are black, grey or dark green. You may choose a career where you have to help people or animals.

Aphrodite in Aquarius or 11°, 23°/11th house: your energy is electric and fluid like water, a bit mysterious and provocative. You may be very skinny or tall and your hair is thick or long. You are a trend setter and you dress accordingly, sometimes people find your style a bit quirky as well. Shades of blue are you to go colours. You could be great at public speaking and usually friend come to you for advice. You may become a beauty social media influencer.  

Aphrodite in Pisces or 12°, 24°/12th house: your style it’s very artistic and sometime you may try to create your own clothing. You may like the purple shades and you may have a lot of accessories that are seashells or with sea symbols. You may have a very beautiful voice especially if it’s in a good aspect with the Moon or Neptune. Very kind hearted and loving personality. Be careful to don’t be delusional and of any type of addictions.

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[codgod]

y’know generally i try to limit colour palettes to as few colours as possible to make things more cohesive but despite my best efforts only jay ended up being able to stick to that </3

ANYWAYS here’s the as-of-right-now fully updated designs for these dickheads. these will no doubt undergo even more tweaking as i draw them more but this is a start i guess. also pls open the pictures to look at them properly i worked so hard LOL

some random notes under the cut yaaaay

chip —

he jingles when he walks. somehow he’s still stealthy. i do not know how

kept the platinum ring that bonded him to gillion in the block! because hey he doesn’t really have a reason to take it off (and it’s a nice reminder of how much gill cares about him, and how far their friendship has come since that ice arena)

his tattoos shift and flicker like actual flames, and sometimes (harmless, purely aesthetic) sparks fly off them when he’s excited

i just think smoke coming out of his mouth when he’s angry would be cool :]

chipped teeth from biting rocks and coins all the time :/

he has scars from the red lightning, they’re just mostly contained to his back and shoulders. they’re a similar red to his coat even once they’ve healed

gillion —

the tail sleeve thing is so he can rest it on the ground without damaging his scales, he doesn’t usually wear it when he’s just on the ship because the wood is soft enough that it’s usually fine + it can hinder swimming a bit. it’s mostly meant for places where there’s cobblestone or gravel streets and such. i think his armour would probably have a version that looks similar but covers the whole tail minus the fins, maybe with some armour plating of its own. i didn’t draw it because there wasn’t any room lol

his scars from the lightning are pink mostly because red stood out too much tbh. they softly glow in the dark the same as his coral and the pink parts of his fins

also kept his ring! his hands aren’t really made for jewellery, though, because the webbing means it won’t sit very secure on his finger. so he keeps it on the same chain as the necklace he got from aslana to keep it safe

tried to make him look a bit bulkier and more his age than in my original design? i feel like i was leaning too much into the naivety and. shortness. originally lol. he also has thicker eyebrows now and i’m still trying to decide how i feel about them but i think? i like it? i don’t tend to give many character thin eyebrows so it could’ve been a unique thing for him but alas

i think i made the sword too small but like ignore that

also forgor to include pretzel </3 that’s okay though she can get her own design sheet later. she’s special like that

jay —

i believe in tall jay supremacy

blue magic! i was considering gold but that’d look a bit more like a canary than i wanted for her wings so. blue jay :]

her hair is supposed to look kinda like fire to mimic her dad ! kinda showing that even if she runs from her family and the navy they’ll always be a part of her. and also i just like drawing messy hair

i gave her sturdier gloves just because i feel like it fits her better. also changed up the shirt to more of a button up solely because i don’t like tank tops very much LOL

i did WANT to make her outfit a bit flashier to match the boys better but i couldn’t quite figure out where to Put the flash. maybe that’ll come later, the way the story’s going i might get to design some cool prosthetics for her or something

overall —

because there’s just so many fucking colours i triiied to add at least one or two colours from each of them into the others designs. jay has her necklace with each of their main colours on it, her wings are the same blue as gillions eyes, her jacket and right eye are the same dark blue as destiny’s blade, her hair is the same orange as the lighter part of chips tattoos. chip has a dark green sash under all the belts, the same as the hilt of destiny’s blade. they all use the same shades of black, gold, and brown

the only real exception is gillion doesn’t have anything from the other two because he has Such a specific colour palette and he already had so much going on as-is orz jay was obviously the easiest to do this with because she has both warm and cool colours in her palette by default lol (and i did her design last, so that helps)

[carolldesign]

📚 Cozy Studies makeup and genetics set 📚

This set contains:

📚 An 8-swatch muted eyeshadow in dark academia colour palette of brown, green, blue and red-pink tones.

📚 A 4-swatch graphic, slightly smoked eyeliner in the shades of black, blue, green and brown.

📚 A 4-swatch nose and cheek blush in the shades pink, orange and red. 

📚 A 4-swatch soft and dense nose and cheek freckles in warm brown and red tones.

📚 A 4-swatch muted and glossy lipstick in the shades of beige brown, red and pink.

All files are available for download exclusively on The Sims Resource for the Cozy Studies collection.

➡️ Download eyeshadow (EA until 19.08)

➡️ Download eyeliner

➡️ Download blush

➡️ Download lip gloss

➡️ Download freckles

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[nkukuforcolorpalettes]

Mercutio

[inubaki]

Adam’s Pride Au

-story section by @rainforestakiie. Was kind enough to write this while helping my develop the design. Please check out their stuff. ——

Adam felt undeniably diminutive, a mere wisp of his former self. He was far smaller than he had ever been in his Edenic days and, naturally, infinitesimally tiny compared to his celestial form. He barely grazed the shoulder of his angelic self—how utterly disheartening! His new form seemed so fragile, so vulnerable. Although he was uncertain of the full extent of his new body's powers, his present concern was more with its appearance.

His face was heart-shaped, softly feminine, with a nose that curved gracefully like a bird’s beak but lacked its sharpness. His lips were plump and tender, featuring a subtle, secretive dimple at one corner. His skin was the colour of delicate ash on fresh snow, milky-white and sprinkled with grey freckles that cascaded down his cheeks, neck, shoulders, and back. These freckles meandered down to the lush, pastel green and blue fluff that framed his thighs and extended to his dainty, delicate hooves. Though he lacked the long, arrow-like tail of Lucifer, his tail resembled a delicate spring of blue feathers, starting close to his backside and arching upward like a plume worthy of Hera.

His hips were rounded and plush, akin to the fanciful Barbies Adam had once seen the young Winners chatter about. His arms were slender and cushioned with tender flesh, his fingers long and delicate, tipped with the same blue and green hues as if bruised. His hair was a cascade of soft brown tufts, interspersed with genuine blue and green feathers that sprouted from the sides of his head, two of them curving like horns. Resting serenely between them was a sweet, sinuous snake, coiling gently and floating above his head like an ethereal halo.

Adam's cheeks were rounder than he had ever imagined, blushing with a faint pink tint. He winced, pinching his right cheek and hissing in surprise. It was far more sensitive than he remembered and disturbingly reminiscent of Lucifer! His wings were long and plush, cascading down his back and sweeping along the ground behind him. He inspected them with curiosity; they weren’t gold but a mesmerising gradient of green and blue, interwoven with hints of orange.

He wondered if he could lift them—and if they could lift him. With a determined squint and an arched back, he watched as his wings began to unfurl, nearly causing him to have a heart attack. They didn’t resemble typical wings but rather the majestic plumes of a peacock, stretching around him and fluttering softly. The eyes embedded in the feathers shimmered in gold, purple, and orange, framed by gentle greens and blues, echoing the feathers sprouting from his hair.

Adam's eyes widened in shock as he gazed at his reflection.

“What the fuck am I?” he exclaimed, his voice echoing with disbelief.

A soft gasp fluttered from behind him, drawing his attention. Adam turned slowly, his gaze squinting against the soft, shadowed light of the hotel room.

There, standing in the doorway, was Lucifer, eyes wide and mouth agape in astonishment. “You’re… beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and admiration.

Adam's heart sank.

Fuck!

He’s even shorter than fucking Lucifer?! The pint-sized King of Hell?! How did this fucking happen?!

———

The concept idea was what if Adam’s sinner punishment was to look like Lucifer.

The face of everything he thought as evil and through him excused his own horrid deeds. All that he took pride in and suffered through vanity is stripped away. Leaving a shorter, more ‘ delicate’, even feminine version of himself. He retains his wings but they barely hold the strength to lift himself. His halo becomes a snake, one he later names after constantly trying to chase off. (Though being separated, gives him migraines.). Adam keeps those hips though! Cause damn boy!

Watercolor pencils and @m-d-tr1 was kind enough to color one as well. But all drawn by me. I wanted to test out the colored design.

[hamlets-ak]

i prefer it by moonlight ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: an evening at the beach with timothée but it’s just the two of you

*18+, minors DNI, sexual themes & references, romantic dynamic, established relationship, consent

Somewhere in the hills behind you, the sun was melting in the west. It was late in the evening and everything was slowly turning soft, blue and melancholic.

Waves came. Waves left.

They faded in the shore; every breath from the sea so full of life that it seemed whoever respired it, though dying, might revive. You watched them cover colourful pebbles, glimmering under the mute presence of the moon, leaving trails of sea foam behind to dissolve into the air.

The voice of the sea was seductive, never ceasing, whispering. 

A smile stretched on your lips. There was something so magical about that hour. A crescent moon was rising between sweet clouds, its light becoming more and more luminous as the atmosphere darkened, obeying a victorious night.

Your chin fell to the side and you stared at Timothée. He was laying on his towel, your towel, stomach touching the ground and back open to the sky. His cheek hid behind his shoulder, eyes fixed on grains of sand that slipped between his fingers, and each with unique silverness sank into the golden surface. A seashell sat on his arm, one of those that used to have a match, now alone in the comfort of his skin. 

Without a word, you captured it between your fingers and then fell on your back. The corners of his mouth curved up as he turned his gaze to you, covering a sweet smile behind his arm. 

Iridescent colours danced inside the shell, while bizarre combinations of whites, browns and oranges hugged the outside skin. It was a strange one. 

Tim observed you leaving the seashell back on your towel and then leaning your head to meet him. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you extended your hand and touched his hair, brushing through damp curls soaked in salt.

« I’m going in, » you said, trying to catch his eyes behind a dark pair of sunglasses.

Timothée tilted his head on his shoulder, watching your figure shrink as you stood up and walked to the water. Reflexively, he tossed his glasses on the towel and followed your footprints, feet stepping on the mould you created before him. Glistering pebbles pierced his skin and sea foam washed him. 

« Do you think the sun set ? », you turned back orphically. Your hands stayed on your hips at the feeling of the cool water climbing up your skin.

« I don’t know… », he murmured, walking carefully, trying to neutralise with rocks and water until he found sand.

« What do you think ? »

His hand stretched in your direction and you caught it, fingers wanting nothing more than to hold him close.

« Yes… »

« Yes ? »

« No ? » A smile played on your mouth and Timothée chuckled at the feeling of cold chills, spreading throughout his body. « Why ? » You shrugged.

Waves crashed your legs. The flesh of the sea was holding a mirror and you watched your knees dissolving into the sky. Sand and salt stirred in the air. The soppy waft was splashing kisses on you as the breeze with the distant smell of rosemary ran its fingers through your hair, luring it along.

Without warning, Timothée pulled you by the hand close to him and kissed you on the lips. You smiled and wrapped one arm around his neck, bringing him into a hug. Your eyes peered at the beach as you balanced your chin on top of his shoulder.

« Everyone’s gone, » you murmured with a frown, lips softly caressing his neck, and Tim turned around. 

Everyone had left. It was just you, him and the tender twilight. You always imagined that everyone shared your love for dreamlike hues and the promise of starlight. It came to you as a surprise to watch the beach empty.

« It’s just us then. » You smiled, glancing back at him. Your fingers lingered on the back of his hair before bodies disconnected.

A rose glow faded on the horizon and melodious laughter echoed at sunset’s dying glory, slowly vanishing into the air as you let the water hug you.

Under the surface, everything looked blurry. Specs danced in the water and hair floated everywhere. The sky’s reflection sank in with you while the sea consumed the both of you.

Timothée’s hand wrapped around your ankle, trying to hold you back so he could keep up with your pace. A grin curled up on your face and bubbles floated on the surface while you traveled further and further into the sea.

Gasping for air you emerged. You pulled your hair behind as eyes scanned the blue for Tim. Aimlessly you swam deeper to the white buoys, waiting. But as the seconds passed, you became more aware of the vastness that opened around you, and the idea of how easily it was to be swallowed in it made panic creep into your heart.

As if reading your mind, Tim appeared at once a few meters away.

« Asshole, » you muttered paddling deeper to where he was.

« Look what I found, » he said breathlessly, a huge smile plastered on his lips. With a shake of his head, he unglued the hair off his face and then caught your hand. « Open your hand. »

« You almost drowned, » you mumbled, looking at the shell he placed on your palm. It was one of the thin curly ones but it was much bigger than what you’d usually find.

« For you. » You grinned, stretching your neck to place a sweet kiss on the side of his mouth.

« Thank you. »

He kissed you back with more force, causing the both of you to dive underwater. Timothée helplessly cupped your face, eyes unable to focus and lips brushing vague shapes against any skin they could catch, slipping from mouth to nose, cheek, neck, anywhere.

Amid the sea, you dived through moonlit passages and secret sea tunnels. You swam, neptunian children under the faint moon, your laughter flowing between tamarisks and sea daffodils until the night shadows stretched impossibly long and the sky took in the colour of a ripe bruise.

« What are we going to do when we get back home ? », you asked. Your feet touched the soft sand as the waves pushed you closer to the shallows. Timothée bit his lips, his hands sheepishly entangling with yours.

« What are we going to do when we get back home ? », he repeated your question a bit distracted by your arms that slithered around his neck.

« What do you want ? »

« Anything you want. »

« What do I want ? », you pressed your mouth into a smile. « I have some things in mind... » A boyish grin grew on his face.

« Tell me. » You stared at him and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him as droplets streamed from his hair down to his lips, staining them maroon and swollen.

One hand stopped toying with his hair and slowly trailed to his chest, down his stomach. A sharp inhale left his lips, followed by a small laugh, when you moved dangerously low and rested your hand on his crotch. He blissfully dropped his head to your face, mouth agape against the skin of your cheek. You pulled back and he tried to catch your arm but you let it fall on his hip.

« What do you want ? To tease me to death ? », he breathed out a smile and held your legs. Your arms slithered around him tightly as he drifted you to the shore.

You laid on the sand, hair spread around and hands resting above your head. Splashes of moonlight danced on everything it touched giving a subtle reflection on your glistering body. One foot was bent toying like a pendulum left to right, while the other feet dissolved into the sea.

You tilted your head to the side mischievously, eyes shining in grotesque triumph. Timothée looked down at you, a lurking glint in his gaze. He kneeled.

You touched him, first with only the fingertips, but then, more daring, with the whole palm. Your hand slowly stayed on his nape, supporting his forehead against yours.

« Kiss me, » you said, nose playfully brushing his, making his mouth curl up. You licked away his grin as lips soft soaked to yours.

Tim hovered on top of you, his body leaving wet stains on yours.

He kissed your neck, hand eager, trailing down to your chest. Your breath turned unstable, a strike of pleasure warming you up from the inside out, as his mouth tried to push your top aside and his teeth appeared, grazing over your skin. You pushed the hair from his eyes and gasped at the sensation.

Timothée glanced at you and let out a hushed moan to sink into your skin. His fingers pressed against your stomach, slowly tilting to the side on your hip to untangle the stubborn knot of your swimsuit. The strings fell to the sand and his hand followed the curve of your thigh, gripping tightly the flesh. He rubbed your apex, making your leg slither around him and stitch him on you.

Bated breaths warmed your face, lips desperately trying to touch skin. Without saying anything, your hand swam between your bodies. Tim groaned in your mouth when your fingers laced around his crotch, the kisses becoming lingering and longer.

You brought him close to you and bodies sank deep into each other. Blissed out, he lunged forward. You melted, stirring two parts of a whole finally into one.

Soft summer night danced in the air mixing memory with desire. The wind’s roar and its chills aligned to bring your bodies impossibly close. The moon was fully out, sky darkening, sea swelling.

You breathed each other in, letting the other inhale the air, the strained sounds the one was eliciting from the other. You moaned, his name and nothing else on your lips, as you reached for his shoulder, squeezing his skin hard.

Clasped into one, you writhed together, gripping and tugging and scratching. A thrust and then another. Until a wave of shuddering moved over his skin and you erratic, moved by a brutish need, engulfed by the flames of passion, you twisted your body and pushed at his shoulders and in one swift second your bodies switched places.

Your head fell back and chest expanded, the sweet feeling of suffocation taking over your body. A spasm of pleasure shook Timothée and he groaned.

A hush fell over the world.

Panting heavily you glanced around you. The night rolled itself away into great, soft horizon; the sky gleamed blue and silvery. Then your gaze fell on him and you smiled.

He lifted his head to catch your mouth but you tipped his neck back and leaned close to him, lips swollen and salty brushed against each other as cold waves drifted up your legs.

[heavenlylie]

how you lost the girl - part 2

pairing: jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: Jenna's unexpected return forces you to reflect on the choices that led to the events of the past.

warnings: this is sad..

word count: 2.2k

a/n: i wasn’t going to make a part two but here we are! i wanted that angst to be resolved but i got carried away again so...

The alarm buzzes, but you don't stir. Your heart aches for her warmth. Your eyes remain closed, mind clouded by dreams of Jenna's soft skin and the sound of her laughter.

Three weeks had passed since the day you last laid eyes on the brown-eyed brunette. Her sudden reappearance in your life reignited old feelings within you, making you question yourself and all of the decisions that led to this moment.

The morning sun streams through the window, casting long shadows across the empty room, it's eerily quiet without Jenna's presence. The air is stale and heavy, clinging to the walls like a shroud that refuses to be shaken off. The sheets are cold where she used to lay, the side of the bed that she had claimed, still holding onto the heat from her body.

The closet door creaks as it opens and closes, revealing the neat row of sweatpants and shirts that once were pressed against Jenna's curves. The room feels cavernous without her. If only she hadn’t showed up, you were doing just fine without her. Why'd she have to just show up at your door after all this time?

You dressed slowly, each movement deliberate and calculated, as if you were walking through water, trying so hard not to think of her. You pour yourself a bowl of cereal, the milk swirling softly as you stir it into the bowl, but there's no joy in the simple act. The spoon clinks against the ceramic as you eat, each bite tasting like ashes in your mouth.

You look out the window, but all you see is the blue sky and the trees with orange leaves - a reminder that winter is approaching, and Jenna isn't there to share it with you. The day drags on as you go about your routine, each task feeling hollow and meaningless.

The weight of Jenna's absence hangs heavy in every corner of your existence. The once vibrant colours that adorned your life have now faded to muted shades as if the world itself mourns her absence. Each passing moment only intensifies the ache within you, the longing for her touch consuming your every thought.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the overwhelming emptiness, you decide to take a walk through the park. The crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet echoes in the silence, a haunting symphony that mirrors the broken rhythm of your heart. As you wander aimlessly along the winding path, memories of Jenna flood your mind.

You remember how she used to laugh, her melodic voice weaving through the air like magic. Every joke was accompanied by a playful twinkle in her eyes, and the sound of her laughter was enough to make your soul soar. But now, even the echoes of her laughter feel distant and unattainable.

Lost in your reverie, you find yourself standing before the place where you had your first date with Jenna. The wooden slats of the bench have weathered over time, but the memories of that day remain vivid in your mind.

You can still feel the nervous excitement that coursed through your veins as you sat down beside her, unsure of what the future held for the two of you.

A bittersweet smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you take a seat on the bench. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to be transported back to that moment. The scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the subtle fragrance of Jenna's perfume fills your nostrils. The warmth of her hand in yours sends a tingle up your spine, igniting a fire within you that still burns, despite her absence.

"I didn't know what was your favourite fruit," Jenna said, pulling out a big Tupperware with a variety of fruits. "So I just brought a fruit salad." She said with an awkward chuckle, scared of your reaction to her extreme efforts to give you the best first date experience.

Things might’ve gotten a bit out of hand; the picnic at sunset in a secluded area of the national park, the different types of food just in case you had an allergy, small pillows to make sure you were comfortable, fairy lights on the bench behind you and across the blanked she had placed on the grass.

You couldn't help but smile at Jenna's gesture, feeling a surge of warmth filling the void within you. Her thoughtfulness and attention to detail were part of what drew you to her in the first place. As you picked up a piece of fruit from the Tupperware, you marvelled at the explosion of flavours in your mouth - a perfect blend of sweetness and tartness.

"I love it," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble, but I'm glad you did."

Jenna's eyes sparkled with joy as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against your cheek in a gentle kiss. The softness of her touch sent shivers down your spine, reigniting the fire within you that had been dampened by her absence.

As the sun began to set behind the mountains, casting a warm orange glow over the park, you and Jenna sat in comfortable silence. The chatter of birds and rustling of leaves provided a soothing soundtrack to your thoughts.

"I wanted to make this day special," Jenna whispered, her voice laced with vulnerability. And she had succeeded. From the thoughtful picnic to the stunning view of the sunset, everything about this day was perfect.

You turned towards Jenna and took her hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with hers. "It's more than special," you said, sincerity dripping from your words.

Jenna's smile widened as she leaned in for a kiss. But just as your lips were about to meet, a loud noise shattered the peaceful atmosphere. You both pulled away, startled by the sudden disturbance.

"What was that?" you asked, scanning your surroundings for any signs of danger.

"It sounded like fireworks," Jenna said, pointing towards the sky where colourful sparks were now lighting up the darkening sky.

"Fireworks?" you echoed in confusion.

Jenna grinned mischievously. "I may have arranged for a surprise fireworks show," she admitted sheepishly.

Despite yourself, a laugh escaped your lips. "You really went all out for this date."

Jenna shrugged nonchalantly. "I just wanted it to be perfect for you."

As you watched the dazzling display before you, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by Jenna's thoughtfulness and love for you. At that moment, surrounded by nature and with Jenna by your side, you realized that this was where you belonged – with her.

The last firework faded into darkness and there was nothing left but the sound of crickets chirping in the distance. You turned back to Jenna and cupped her face in your hands before leaning in for a soft kiss.

"This has been an amazing day," you said as you pulled away. Jenna smiled, her eyes shining with affection. "I'm glad you think so," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "But I have a feeling that this is just the beginning of something even more incredible."

The words hung in the air, heavy with possibility. You gazed into Jenna's eyes, seeing a future filled with love and adventure. 

The emptiness that had haunted you earlier was now replaced with hope and anticipation.

"I think you're right," you said, your voice steady with conviction. "I'm excited to find out what the future holds for us."

Jenna leaned in closer, her breath mingling with yours as she whispered, "Me too."

In that moment, time seemed to stand still. The world around you faded away as your lips met in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss filled with promises and dreams, sealing the bond between you and Jenna.

With an exhale, you open your eyes and gaze out at the park. Children laugh and play on the playground, their innocent joy serving as a stark contrast to the heaviness in your heart. You watch as couples walk hand in hand along the path, their love radiating from them like a warm embrace. A pang of longing shoots through you, a reminder of what you once had with Jenna.

It has been months since that perfect first date in the park. Months since Jenna brought light and laughter back into your life. But circumstances beyond your control forced you to part ways, leaving only memories and unspoken promises behind.

As you sit on the weathered bench, the weight of Jenna's absence becomes unbearable once again. The once vibrant colours of the park seem dull and lifeless.

You find yourself wondering if you made the right decision and if letting go of Jenna was truly for the best. The taste of regret lingers in your mouth like bitter medicine, seeping into every crevice of your being. You can't help but question if you will ever find happiness again.

"That is the most stupid Halloween costume I've ever seen!" You said laughing at Jenna's costume as she twirled around in her makeshift ghost attire. She had draped a white sheet over herself, cutting out two eye holes and a crooked mouth that seemed to dance with mischief.

Jenna's laughter mingled with yours, filling the air with joy. "I thought it would be fun to go as a classic ghost, you know, for old times' sake," she said, her voice muffled by the sheet. "Plus, it's easy to put together."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest as you watched her playfully float around the room. Despite the heaviness in your heart, Jenna had always been able to bring a smile to your face. It was as if her presence alone had the power to chase away the shadows that lingered within you.

As the night grew darker and eerie jack-o-lanterns flickered in the distance, you and Jenna ventured out into the neighbourhood, hand in hand. The air was crisp with a hint of autumn, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and the promise of Halloween mischief. Children ran from house to house, their laughter echoing through the streets as they collected candy in their baskets.

Jenna's excitement was contagious, her eyes sparkling with childlike wonder. She would skip ahead every now and then, her ghostly sheet billowing behind her as she approached each house. You couldn't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm.

As you walked together, memories flooded your mind - memories of past Halloweens, carving pumpkins and getting lost in corn mazes. Halloween had always been your favourite holiday, and Jenna knew just how to make it even more magical.

You stopped in front of a house decorated with cobwebs and fake spiders, a cauldron of candy sitting on the front porch. Jenna turned to you with a mischievous smile hidden beneath her ghostly disguise. "Trick or treat?" she asked, her voice filled with love.

You chuckled and nudged her playfully. "Come on, Jenna. You're not fooling anyone with that ghost costume." Jenna's eyes widened in mock surprise as she slowly closed the space between you two. "Oh no, my secret identity has been revealed!" she exclaimed, feigning distress but with a loving look on her face.

You couldn't help but be captivated by Jenna's playful spirit. The way she embraced the whimsy and magic of Halloween, reminded you of all the reasons why you fell in love with her in the first place. At that moment, standing under the dim glow of the porch light, you felt an overwhelming surge of nostalgia mixed with a renewed sense of hope.

You reached out, your fingers gently pulling back the sheet that concealed Jenna's face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and love, and you couldn't resist leaning in to capture her lips in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with shared memories and unspoken promises - a reminder that even though time had passed, your connection was still strong.

As you pulled away, Jenna's ghost costume slipping off her shoulders, you were struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment - vulnerable yet radiant. "I think I love you," you whispered, your voice brimming with emotion.

Jenna's eyes widened in surprise, her lips parting slightly as she took in your words. A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and the air between you seemed to crackle with an electric intensity.

"I think I love you too," she murmured, her voice barely audible against the cacophony of laughter and whispers echoing through the night. Her confession hung between you, delicate and shimmering like a spider's web spun with moonlight.

In that instant, all doubt and uncertainty melted away. The weight of regret that had plagued you vanished, replaced by a sense of purpose and determination. You knew deep down that this moment was a turning point.

That was last year, Halloween was just around the corner again and you knew it wouldn't be the same without her. The memories of that magical night with Jenna still haunted your thoughts, and the ache in your heart grew stronger with each passing day.

The thought of Halloween without her by your side was absolutely soul-crushing. You had tried to move on, to fill the void left by Jenna's absence, but no one could compare to her. She was the light in your life, the one who made every moment feel like an adventure.

As the days grew colder and the leaves turned shades of orange and gold, you found yourself wandering through the streets, feeling lost without Jenna's hand in yours. The world seemed to carry on around you, oblivious to the emptiness that consumed your heart.

[somewhereincairparavel]

What would the HOO boys wear?- Fashion analysis (Frank, Nico and Will)

FRANK ZHANG- Frank is such a soft boy aesthetic aww. He lives knitted sweaters, fuzzy sweaters, or just any sort of sweaters tbh. He likes the colours bright. His colour palette is blue, red, orange and brown. He loves grey sweatpants and is not a huge denim fan tbh, also loves large white hoodies. Frank loves plain white sneakers.

NICO DI ANGELO- do I even have to explain? This man IS the inspo of the dark grunge aesthetic. He feels uncomfortable in clothing that aren't black tbh, he loves thick jackets. Also, skeletons are a must in every piece of clothing he owns. He even loves wearing those skeleton patterned gloves which only cover half the finger (like the last pic) he has SILVER JEWELLERY obsession omg. Any silver ring, necklace, bracelet? Nico di Angelo will get them all.

WILL SOLACE- surfer boy aesthetic at peak. He loves sleeveless tops tbh bc it helps him tan easier. he also isn't afraid to flaunt bright colored clothing. Orange, yellow, blue, white are his color palettes. He too loves knitted sweaters. He isn't too big a fan of hoodies though. Loves red shorts, this is random ok but he just gives off that vibe. He loves cowboy hats, argue with the wall.

[kristallioness]

After Katara finished healing the guards' injuries, Aang wanted to accompany her on their way back home. As he rested a hand on her bruised shoulder to walk together, he noticed something maroon-coloured stuck in her hair. "What?" Katara asked, clueless about why her boyfriend was staring at her so intently. They stopped in their tracks and she let him comb his fingers through her dark brown locks for a second. "I.. I think you're bleeding." "What!? From where?" she panicked a little bit since she hadn't noticed before. One of her hands instinctively patted around her head. When she held it in front of her face, she was surprised to see dark red stains covering her fingers. "It's okay, it's just a small wound. And I think it clotted up already," Aang stated, parting her hair from the source of her bleeding. He was right, the tiny cut had already begun to heal on its own. Katara sat down on the nearest patch of rock so she could quicken the healing process with her waterbending. She dropped her pouch on the edge of the rock and summoned the remaining water around her hand, gently lifting it above the wound. The water began to glow in a familiar light blue hue. Aang frowned at the sight. Even when she was wounded, albeit barely, she tended to others first. This would always be a part of who she was as a person, putting everybody else before her own needs. He wished that she would take care of herself just as well as she did her patients. The airbender stepped beside her and interrupted her healing session for a moment. Katara ceased healing and let her hand back down. She eyed him as he rested one hand on her shoulder to pull her into his embrace, and cupped her chin with the other one, thus resting her head against his chest. She nuzzled her cheek against the orange of his sash and smiled, a soft hum escaping her lips as she felt him kiss the wounded spot on the top of her head ever so tenderly. "You're always so worried about fighting for others that you forget to fight for yourself," Aang murmured to her.

So, uh… Hi? 👋 A lot has happened since I was last here (which is roughly 1 year and 3-4 months ago).

Let me just literally pick up the shards of my life and we'll try this Tumblr-thing again, okay? 🥲

This drawing is very personal to me, and serves as an important reminder that I need to be more kind to myself. ❤️‍🩹