#I've been wanting to draw this for a WEEK

[eraserbread]

i LOVE ex husband gojo with all my heart🤞🏻

pls do one where he catches you still wearing the ring 🙏🙏

oh, it's the perfect day to love ex-husband gojo... ✧

→ f!reader, drinking, smoking, angst, suggestive but sfw

for two people who swear they never want to see each other again, you and satoru do have a funny way of always bumping into each other.

living in different neighborhoods, you still frequent the same stores in his—and vice versa. his friends are your friends, and satoru was your friend before you started dating. a part of you wishes it stayed that way. yes, he was a debilitating flirt who made sure you felt his need, but it was cheeky—fun.

now, you're staring at him half-lidded, barely able to see the glisten in his eye from across the room.

you have to give it to your friends. they definitely tried to keep you two apart, but sometimes, it's impossible. suguru knew the bartender here, but shoko didn't tell you that suguru was the one who invited her out—you should've known.

now you're standing with your back to the wall, fingers squeezing the cup's rim so tight you wouldn't be surprised if it shattered in your grip.

satoru is so fucking tall, towering against the doorway, hidden behind dark glasses. his hair is shorter, all mussed up with delicate precision. half-done button-up shirt, tight pants, glossy shoes—you're gritting your teeth.

"who's dying first: you or suguru?"

shoko's leaned over the marble bar, long hair pulled back in a clip. she's cradling a cigarette between her fingers, exhausted but tipsy enough to hide it over against your wound demeanor.

she reads that ugly look on your face, then turns over her shoulder. you can't believe she laughs when that familiar, lanky body comes into view.

"how was i supposed to know gojo would be here?" she replies unenthusiastically. there's no way satoru didn't notice you two here, but you can tell suguru is trying to keep him at bay—perhaps he didn't even know. actually... scratch that. suguru definitely knew.

and it's such a slap in the face because you were sober. it's been two weeks since you crawled in toru's bed. no contact was going beautifully.

"suguru, then. got it." you deadpan, steely eyes cold and harsh as they bore laser beams into satoru's shadow. he's hunching down, talking to some strange girl with a hand on her shoulder. suguru's laughing next to him, no care in the world.

you swallow down the rest of your bitter drink, gulping it twice to quell the aftershock. then, you slam it down on the bar next to shoko, hands shaking as you storm off to the bathroom.

lucky you—it seems like he didn't even notice you. in the oddly pristine bathroom mirror, you're avoiding your ruffled reflection at all costs, hands wet and shaking as you strain and work at your ring finger, trying to rid the evidence of satoru's ring from your skin.

it wasn't even your size—the ring was his grandmother's—but you loved it. he never asked for it back after signing the marriage away, so you kept it—not as a sign of love, but one of wealth and purity. it's a small, priceless ruby rock blending in with your dark outfit seamlessly.

there's no way you drank enough to be struggling and shaking like you are, but not even wetness from the faucet could make it slide off of your hand. it gets stuck at the worst moment—you feel like you're gonna hyperventilate.

just as you feel the metal start to give, the unmistakable creak of the bathroom door renders you silent and still. you're too on edge to look behind you, shaking like a candle in the wind as it draws shut. the lock clicks.

"crazy running into you here." satoru's voice—the one that haunts your dreams—splashes over your back like ice water. you sputter. "it seems like every time I've seen you since, you've been drunk... or high on something. I don't like it."

"i-i-i'm-i'm not h-high." you stammer, squeezing your eyes shut in meek embarrassment. "you s-should leav-leave."

"well, i locked the door... i'm sure we have a few minutes to ourselves." he coaxes, deep voice sweet and tempting as he gives it to you. you're finally able to look up at the reflection, fire spreading through your veins at the sight of him this close. you can't see his eyes under his dark glasses—thank god.

you hope he didn't notice your shaking hand covering the ring.

"you stopped calling me..." he muses, closing in on you and the water-stained sink. you're starting to sweat with nerves, thighs buzzing in anticipation as his heat grows unbearable. "and showing up. made me worry."

"i can't keep running back to you when I need sex. it's not right."

"but, you know i can give it to you exactly how you need it." he whispers, the front of his toned, hard body pressing against your back. you let your head hang, embarrassed that you aren't pushing him away and running for the hills. no, you relax under his touch. your hands fall.

between the kisses satoru is pressing to your neck, he notices the small shine on your finger. your jewelry reflects the light, and you wear a lot of it. most of the silver bands and diamond bracelets were from him, but that ring on your finger...

he reaches out, snatching your hand in his grip. under his glasses, his eyes are wide and focused, gaze quivering like he's staring at his demise.

you choke in surprise. "what?!" his grip is tight, your fingers flex and strain in his hold, heart falling when you realize what he's fixated on. "l-look, I just had it o-

"why did you start wearing it again?"

it's an odd question, but satoru knows you took it off the day you left him. he kissed it the night prior once you tucked into bed—there's no way he'd miss its return. for some reason, this gets him going. his blood pressure rises. seeing his family ring on your finger felt like a leash and collar keeping you connected forever.

his guts swim.

"i-it matched my nails. stupid, i know-

he shuts you up, bringing your spindly finger to his lips. he stares at the pristine, spotless glimmer against the hue of your skin and the shine of water, and just can't help himself.

he leans in, closing his lips around the ornament like he was trying to suck it off.

you feel so trapped, his free hand is crossing across your tummy, thick forearm flexing as you wiggle. you claw at the meaty flesh on his arm, head falling back into his chest.

you hate how good he feels. you hate the security of his body pressed to yours... you're so ashamed, you wish this ground could open and swallow you whole.

[vincentbriggs]

hello! enjoyed watching your projects for a while, and wanted to ask: do you have any advice for how to do the work of sewing without busting your hand/wrist? or at least how you minimize it?

Hello! I actually haven't gotten much hand pain from sewing. When it happens it's almost always from too much drawing and/or video editing.

When I do get it from sewing it's typically my left hand (I'm right handed), because if I'm hand sewing then my left hand is often holding things still, and if it clamps on tightly for an extended period of time then ouch. It's especially bad if I'm making small thread covered buttons, but holding onto an embroidery hoop does it too.

For the drawing & video editing table height in relation to chair height is SUPER important, you've gotta make sure the work surface is no higher than your elbows are when sitting. I've been fine in that regard ever since I took the legs off my big old desk. (Also, drawing from the shoulder is good advice, both for wrist preservation and for making nice big lines! I try to remember to do it when sketching! You do need to do shoulder stretches though because then your shoulder gets all tight. Anyways, sewing!)

Really the best thing to do is vary up the tasks. It can be very frustrating when something's coming along super well and you don't want to stop, but it's better to stop for a shortish time upon getting a tiny bit of hand pain than to be forced to stop for a longer time because of a lot of it. I don't like having to put down an interesting project, but I extra extra did not like the time I had to stop drawing for a week because I did too much at once.

I actually don't often end up doing one task for a very long stretch of time, since there are so many different projects and chores to do, but if I notice an ache then I'll go switch to a different task on purpose. A few days ago I spent at least 5 or 6 cumulative hours cutting stencils with an xacto knife, and it was getting crampy after a while, so I stopped several times to go read a reference book.

Also stretches are good, and I really do not remember to do them anywhere near often enough.

[mrdespondency]

drawing stan pines and beck kissing could heal me

[lynnsenpai]

Big Life and Comics Update

Hey, remember that time last April when I finished Chapter 6 of MIS, and I was all like, "I'll be back to posting in May." And then it's the end of June now and I've been mostly quiet the whole time. Heck, I meant to make new character profiles for Esther, Seir, and Marchosias during this break and none of that happened either.

The super short version is that at the time the last chapter ended, depression and burnout hit me hard. On a personal level, our apartment was (and still is) in disarray after our landlord had to come in and do a ton of work on our bathroom only to have to stop partway (for honestly legit reasons). This is an ongoing thing, and due to the current heatwave, he probably won't be back to finish until next week, leaving the busted up look of everything to continue to be a source of stress. All the while, I'm worried about my elderly mother who has dementia, and my elderly father who's been having cardiac concerns. And none of this to even speak of the stress cause by the horrifying goings on in my country.

It was making me feel helplessly, perpetually tired.

I'm not going to claim everything is all better now. But I have been taking it slow for the better part of two months while I dealt with life for a bit. I was able to take a fair bit of time for me to rest and zone out as needed, and I finally took a long needed visit home to see my family. So I'm not all better, but I am… better. And I couldn't ask for more right now.

During the last few months, though, what I didn't do a lot of was draw. I contributed to a handful of collabs where I didn't want to let my friends down, and I managed some new rat doodles here and there. But I only have the cover and two pages for the next chapter and basically nothing else ready to go (although the script is done for the next two full chapters). Again, I needed that time, so ultimately, it was for the best. But this does put things in an awkward position right now, because I can't exactly say "stay tuned for new pages next week!" because I'm simply not ready, and that's just a recipe for rebooting the burnout I literally just got over.

My original plan was to finish chapters 7 and 8 to reach what I felt was a good "season finale-like" stopping point, and then take an extended break to shift focus entirely towards the final Rain book until I get it done. I also thought Chapters 7 and 8 would probably be done by now, or maybe next month the latest. I didn't anticipate the two breaks I would need in the middle of Chapter 6 or the extended one I've been taking now. So I'm thinking I want to pivot to a new approach.

My new plan is to expedite the latter. I want to prioritize focus on the last book, to give it a hint of a chance of actually finally coming out this year (it's the 15th anniversary of Rain this November, so I'd really really love to see it release this year).

I sincerely apologize for those of you chomping at the bit for more MIS. But I promise, it will return. And once I complete my previous story once and for all - for real this time - then I can go all in, with MIS finally allowed to have my full attention without an air of guilt hovering over me that I still need to do something else, and overwhelming all the time.

It may be a longer than usual wait, but I think it'll be especially worth it in the long run. The final Rain book will be better for it, and MIS will be better for it.

Here's a little visual of my girls taking turns, so they can both come back all the stronger. ^_^

Sorry again for the extended break, but thank you so much for all your love, support, and patience while I work through everything. I love you all. Please stay safe, stay happy, and stay healthy.

Until next time! 💜

[reveryfics]

Evening Dip

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Summary: Summer was here, which meant the backyard pool was finally open again – and that meant some much-needed quality time with Bucky, now that his congressional duties had slowed.

A/N: I really want to do summer pool fics, and well I had this idea for Bucky that I've been sitting on. This was supposed to be soft smut, however it didn't end up like that. I couldn't wait.

TW: Fluff - Pre-existing relationship - Skinny dipping - Making out - Fronting - Hand job - Females DNI - Minors DNI

The air hung thick and heavy, a humid blanket announcing the true arrival of summer. For you, this wasn't just any summer week; it was the week your personal oasis, that magnificent backyard pool, would finally fulfill its destiny. For nearly a month, it had sat, a gleaming testament to your persuasive powers over Bucky, silently awaiting its grand debut. The past few days had been a flurry of activity, a meticulous ballet of scrubbing, rinsing, and the glorious gush of water filling the pristine basin. You'd worked tirelessly, fueled by the promise of cool respite from the oppressive heat, a heat wave that had effectively turned your town into a collective of hermits.

You'd even managed to coax Alpine, Bucky's notoriously bath-averse feline companion, into a tentative paw-dip once the water was deemed safe. Her wide, curious eyes and a surprisingly cooperative demeanor had kept you entertained, a welcome distraction while Bucky toiled away. He’d been working at a relentless pace lately, a desperate push to clear his workload so he could finally, truly, be present with you. The past few weeks had been a blur of early departures and late arrivals, him coming home, eating a quick meal, and collapsing into bed, utterly spent. But today, he’d promised. He’d sworn he’d be home early, a vow sealed with the anticipation of a shared swim, a blissful escape from the sweltering afternoon.

At least, that's what Bucky promised.

He had left just as the first sliver of dawn peeked over the horizon, a phantom in the quiet house. He moved with practiced stealth, a silent guardian, careful not to disturb your slumber or Alpine’s contented purrs beside you. The familiar ritual played out: the soft rustle of clothes, the quiet click of the bathroom door, the tender kiss pressed to your forehead, and the rustle of the lunch bag you’d packed for him – a daily reminder of your presence, and perhaps, the only proper meal he’d consistently eaten since you’d walked into his life.

But by the time your internal alarm clock chimed, as it always did around nine, the house was empty save for you and Alpine. She lay sprawled across your chest, a warm, furry weight, her rhythmic purr a soothing counterpoint to the growing hum of the air conditioning. You stretched, a languid arch of your back, and reached for your phone.

Bucky’s name glowed on the screen, a notification waiting. You braced yourself, fully expecting a text about another interminable meeting, a dull report, or some mundane work crisis. But no. Of course not. It was worse.

He was going to be working late again.

The words hung in the air, a punch to the gut. He promised, of course, to make it up to you later that night. A low growl rumbled in your throat, a sound that finally prompted Alpine to open her emerald eyes, fixing you with a curious, unblinking stare. She let out a questioning chirp, her purr intensifying as you absently reached up to scratch behind her ear.

"Make it up to me," you murmured, the words laced with a potent mix of disappointment and a burgeoning, mischievous resolve. You let out a huff, a release of exasperated air. "He better give me the best mind-blowing sex of my life."

The sun, though long gone, had left its scorching signature on the evening. The air remained thick and heavy, a humid embrace that clung to your skin, making every breath feel like drawing in warm soup. The digital clock on the kitchen counter glared 8:47 PM. Still no Bucky. But someone else was making their impatience known.

A persistent, rhythmic tapping at the sliding glass patio door finally drew your attention from the simmering annoyance bubbling within you. Alpine, a furry shadow in the dim light, was perched on her hind legs, forepaws batting at the glass with surprising intensity. Her tail swished with an urgency that spoke volumes. She wanted out. More specifically, she wanted in the pool.

A small smile, the first genuine one of the evening, touched your lips. How could you resist that insistent demand? You had to admit, the idea of slipping into the cool water was becoming increasingly appealing. Bucky or no Bucky, this heat was relentless.

Giving in to the unspoken plea, you headed to the bedroom, shedding your clothes for your swim trunks. Then, with a chuckle, you retrieved Alpine's life vest. It was a bright, almost ridiculous, yellow, perfectly tailored for feline escapades, complete with little fish scales printed on the fabric. You'd bought it on a whim, a silly impulse purchase that now seemed like a stroke of genius. Alpine, surprisingly, tolerated it with a stoic resignation, perhaps understanding that it was the price of admission to her aquatic adventures.

With Alpine secured in her buoyant gear, you slid open the patio door. The cat wasted no time. With a determined leap, she launched herself off the edge of the patio, a fluffy, yellow projectile arcing gracefully through the air before landing with a surprisingly quiet splash in the center of the pool. She immediately began to paddle, her tiny paws churning the water with an earnestness that was both comical and endearing.

Watching her, a wave of calm finally washed over you. The day’s frustrations, Bucky’s broken promise, the suffocating heat – they all seemed to recede in the face of Alpine’s pure, unadulterated joy. You grabbed your phone and a plush towel, setting them carefully on one of the cushioned patio chairs before making your way to the steps of the pool.

The first touch of the water was pure bliss. It was surprisingly cool, a refreshing embrace against your heated skin. You descended slowly, letting the water lap at your shins, then your knees, a sigh of contentment escaping your lips as the coolness enveloped your waist. Alpine, noticing your entry, paddled closer, her green eyes wide and sparkling in the reflected pool lights. You dipped fully into the water, the last vestiges of the day's oppressive heat dissolving into the shimmering depths. The world seemed to narrow to this moment: the cool water, the quiet hum of the pool filter, and the gentle, rhythmic paddling of your tiny, yellow-vested swimming companion.

Nearly two hours later, the initial novelty of the cool water had begun to wane, and the first shivers were setting in. Alpine, too, seemed ready to trade her aquatic adventure for a warm, dry spot. You scooped her out, her yellow life vest now a bit bedraggled, and carried her inside. After a thorough towel-drying, she shook herself vigorously, sending droplets flying, before trotting off to find her favorite blanket pile, a contented blur of fur.

You checked your phone, half-expecting, half-dreading, a message. A text from Bucky popped up: “Just leaving. Few hours. So sorry, promise to make it up xx.” A few hours. The familiar ache of disappointment, quickly followed by a spark of rebellious determination, ignited within you. His "few hours" could easily stretch into the dead of night, and you weren't about to let this evening fizzle out without a fight. His promise of making it up to you echoed in your mind, fueling a mischievous plan.

You walked back to the laundry room, shedding your swim trunks with a decisive shrug. Tonight called for a different kind of freedom. Tonight called for skinny dipping. The air still hung warm and humid, and the thought of the silky water against bare skin was an irresistible lure.

Back on the patio, the pool lights cast an inviting, ethereal glow on the water. You slipped in, the cool caress of the liquid a delicious shock. The silence of the night was broken only by the gentle lapping of the water against your skin. A daring idea began to form, a way to send Bucky a very clear, very undeniable message.

Without a second thought for where he might be – in a crowded office, stuck in a last-minute meeting, surrounded by colleagues – you reached for your phone. A picture of the pool itself would be too subtle, too easily dismissed. A selfie would be too direct, too obvious. No, this needed to be more nuanced, more tantalizing.

You held the phone steady, focusing the camera not on your face, but on your body from the chest down. The water reached your waist, shimmering and reflecting the pool lights in a way that offered a revealing glimpse of what lay beneath the surface. The droplets clung to your skin like scattered jewels, each one catching the light. Below your naval, your happy trail was matted down by the water, a dark, intriguing line disappearing into the illuminated depths. The curve of your hips, the line of your inner thighs – all were subtly, yet distinctly, visible through the water's playful distortion.

You pressed send.

A shiver, not of cold but of anticipation, ran down your spine. This was it. Either Bucky was going to get the undeniable hint of exactly how you wanted him to make up for his absence, or you’d be spending the night relegated to the couch, with Alpine as your only bedfellow. Only time would tell.

It wasn't even an hour later. The initial thrill of your daring photo had settled into a quiet hum of anticipation. You were still in the pool, floating on your back, the cool water cradling you as you gazed up at the vast expanse of the night sky. The stars, pinpricks of light against the inky black, seemed to hum with the same silent energy that now thrummed through your veins. The air was finally starting to lose some of its earlier oppressive heat, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves in the trees.

Then, the soft slide of the patio door cut through the peaceful silence. You didn't move, your breath held. The subtle click of it closing confirmed it, followed by the faint, distinctive sound of bare feet against the patio deck. A wave of warmth, entirely unrelated to the lingering heat of the evening, spread through you.

Bucky’s voice, low and laced with a familiar mix of exasperation and amusement, broke the quiet. He called out your name, his tone a little breathless, a little rough. You kept your eyes fixed on the stars, a smirk playing on your lips. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and a hint of playful defiance. You waited, letting him stew just a little.

A moment later, the water around your feet rippled, then settled. He was in the pool. You felt the subtle shift in the water as he moved closer, and then the warmth of his body near your head. You finally let your gaze drift, turning your head just enough to see him. He was standing beside you, looking down, his face a shadowed silhouette against the faint glow of the patio lights. His eyes, even in the dimness, held a spark of something intense.

You started to push yourself up, intending to face him, to perhaps tease him a little more. But Bucky was quicker. His vibranium arm, cool and surprisingly gentle, slipped around your waist. With effortless strength, he pulled you back against him, the sudden contact sending a delicious shiver down your spine. A low rumble vibrated through his chest, a sound you knew well, a prelude to something wonderfully intimate.

His breath ghosted against your ear as he whispered, "I've had a hard day, baby." His voice was rougher now, tinged with exhaustion, but laced with an undeniable possessiveness. He tightened his grip slightly, holding you flush against him. "I'm not in the mood to chase you around the pool, especially not after that picture you sent me." The last words were a low growl, a promise and a threat all rolled into one.

His words, a low growl against your ear, sent a potent wave of heat through you, despite the cool embrace of the water. The vibranium arm tightened further, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between your bodies. His other arm, the human one, slid around your ribs, his hand splaying warm and possessive over your abdomen, just above where the water veiled your secret. The gentle sway of the water around you seemed to amplify the sudden, intense awareness of his proximity.

"You knew what you were doing, sending that," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that made the hairs on your neck stand on end. He dipped his head, nuzzling your temple, then tracing a line down your jaw with his lips. "You know exactly what that picture did to me, sitting in that stuffy office, pretending to care about quarterly reports." A soft, almost pained groan escaped him as his lips found the sensitive skin behind your ear.

You finally let out the breath you'd been holding, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "Did it work?" you teased, your voice a little breathless, a little shaky. The smirk was back, wider now, despite the rapid thrum of your pulse.

Bucky chuckled, a low, rich sound that vibrated through your back. "Oh, it worked, alright," he confirmed, his voice thick with unfulfilled desire. He shifted slightly, pressing his hips against yours, leaving no doubt as to the extent of his "hard day." "It worked so well I nearly drove off the road trying to get here. Forget the 'few hours,' I was out of there the second I saw it."

He continued to hold you tight, letting the silence stretch, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of the water and your increasingly ragged breaths. The stars still twinkled above, oblivious to the simmering tension in your private pool. His fingers, warm and calloused, began to trace languid circles just below the water's surface, over the curve of your hip, then slowly, deliberately, lower.

"So," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, "how do you want me to make it up to you, baby? Because I have a few ideas, and I'm pretty sure they all involve whatever your dirty mind is thinking about." His words were a direct hit, and a gasp escaped your lips as his touch intensified, sending shivers trailing down to your toes. You arched into him, a silent invitation, and the night suddenly felt far, far more interesting than just stargazing.

The sensation of Bucky's already erect cock pressing hot and insistent against your ass was a potent counterpoint to the cool water. His words, his scent, his presence – they coalesced into a dizzying rush. As his hand continued its slow, deliberate descent, brushing over your hip, you felt your own cock twitch in eager response, a silent acknowledgment of the primal dance beginning between you. Every nerve ending seemed to hum with anticipation.

He chuckled again, a low, satisfied sound that seemed to reverberate through the water itself. "Too easy," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek as he dipped his head closer. Then, with a fluid, almost effortless motion, he turned you around in his arms until you were facing him.

The change in position brought an immediate, intense awareness of his naked body against yours. The cool vibranium of his arm was still a firm anchor around your waist, but now you could feel the raw heat of his skin, the powerful musculature of his chest, the hard plane of his abdomen pressing against your own. Your legs tangled underwater, a dance of limbs in the shimmering light.

He began to walk, slowly, deliberately, pulling you with him. Each step brought a renewed friction between your bodies, a delicious tease. The gentle lapping of the water became a sensual soundtrack to your movements. You could feel the slight drag of the water against his powerful thighs, the brush of his chest hair against yours. The faint scent of chlorine mingled with his unique scent – a clean, masculine aroma that was undeniably Bucky.

Your breath hitched in your throat as your back finally met the cool, unyielding edge of the pool. You were pinned, not unpleasantly, between him and the tiled wall. The sensation was electric, the pressure of his body against yours leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes, dark and intense in the low light, devoured your face, then dropped to your lips, a silent question hanging in the air. His hands, one vibranium, one flesh, moved to cup your face, his thumbs stroking gently along your cheekbones. The playful defiance of earlier melted away, replaced by an overwhelming desire that mirrored his own.

His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, searched yours for a long moment, a silent question passing between you. The only answer he needed was the way your body instinctively arched into his, the desperate little gasp that escaped your lips. Then, with a soft groan that seemed to tear from the depths of his chest, Bucky captured your mouth.

The kiss was everything you’d been craving, a raw, unrestrained explosion of pent-up desire and unspoken longing. His lips were hot and demanding, crushing against yours, tasting of chlorine and something uniquely, intoxicatingly Bucky. His tongue swept in, hungry and seeking, intertwining with yours in a primal dance that left you breathless. You responded with equal fervor, your hands, freed now by the support of the pool wall, tangling in his damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer still.

The cool water swirled around your hips, a stark contrast to the burning heat that flared between your bodies. You could feel the rigid length of his erection pressing insistently against you, a constant, throbbing reminder of his arousal. Your own cock, already alive with sensation, twitched and hardened further with every grinding movement of his hips.

He deepened the kiss, a low growl vibrating in his throat as his vibranium arm, still wrapped securely around your waist, tightened its hold, lifting you slightly against him. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, pulling your bodies flush together. The friction was exquisite, a dizzying blend of skin on skin, hair on hair, the water rippling around you with every shift.

His human hand, the one that had been cupping your face, now trailed down your neck, across your collarbone, before finally resting with possessive weight on your hip. He broke the kiss, just barely, gasping for air, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, still smoldering, bored into yours.

"God, I've missed this," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, his lips still brushing yours with every word. He didn't wait for a response, diving back in for another searing kiss, this one even more desperate, more demanding than the last. His tongue ravaged your mouth, plundering every corner, leaving you weak and pliant in his embrace. You whimpered into the kiss, the sound lost somewhere between his mouth and yours.

As he continued, a dizzying spiral of sensation, Bucky began to press you harder against the cool tile of the pool wall. His body was a hot brand against yours, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you both. His kisses moved from your lips, trailing down your jawline, to the sensitive hollow of your throat, each one leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You arched your back, offering yourself more fully to his ministrations, your fingers digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders.

The initial annoyance of his late arrival had completely evaporated, replaced by a singular, overwhelming desire. This was his apology, his "making it up to you," and it was already proving to be everything you’d hoped for, and more.

Bucky finally tore his mouth from yours, the abrupt separation leaving you gasping, desperate for air. But the reprieve was fleeting. His lips, hot and swollen from the intensity of your shared kiss, immediately descended to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. He began to pepper the sensitive area with fierce, open-mouthed kisses, each one sending a jolt through your system. You could feel the slight tug of his teeth as he nuzzled and gently bit the soft skin just beneath your ear, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you.

A low, involuntary moan rumbled in your chest, escaping your lips as he continued his delicious assault. His vibranium arm kept you pinned against the cool pool wall, his other hand sliding from your hip to cup your ass, pressing your pelvis even more firmly against his. The friction between your bodies, already electrifying, intensified with every movement.

He worked his way down, his lips trailing a searing path along your collarbone, then onto the curve of your shoulder. You arched your back instinctively, offering more of yourself to his fervent attention. His teeth scraped lightly, then bit down with just enough pressure to leave a delicious ache, a promise of a mark. The water around you, once cool and refreshing, now felt like a heated vortex, swirling with your escalating desire.

"Bucky," you choked out, your voice hoarse, as your cocks brushed against one another beneath the water. The contact was exquisitely sensitive, a jolt that sent a wave of pure need coursing through your veins. You could feel the rigid head of his penis nudging against yours, a silent, insistent demand.

He responded to your plea with a deeper bite, a low growl rumbling in his throat, a primal sound of possession. His kisses continued their relentless journey, finally reaching your chest. His tongue swirled over your nipple, then sucked gently, sending shivers through your entire body. The pleasure was almost unbearable, a delicious torment that left you gasping and writhing against him.

"God, Bucky," you moaned again, the sound less a word and more a guttural expression of pure sensation. His head dipped lower still, his mouth hot against your abdomen, just above the waterline, where the subtle outline of your happy trail had been revealed in the revealing photo. He was making good on his promise, and then some.

Bucky's head lifted slowly, his mouth tracing a searing path back up your chest, over your collarbone, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, he captured your lips once more. The kiss was soft this time, almost tender, a stark contrast to the raw hunger of moments before. It was a kiss of profound connection, a silent acknowledgment of the desire that thrummed between you.

Then, he pulled back, just enough for his breath to ghost over your mouth. His eyes, still dark with passion, met yours. A soft, almost incredulous whisper escaped his lips, barely audible above the gentle lapping of the water. "You do this to me every time."

You took a deep, shaky breath, still reeling from the intensity of his touch. A knowing smirk played on your lips as you retorted, your voice a little breathless, "And you're always horny enough to fall for it, aren't you, Sol-"

Before you could finish teasing him, before you could even utter his name, Bucky's hand, the human one, slipped underwater. His fingers found your cock, and began to stroke it slowly and deliberately. The sensation was immediate, overwhelming. Your head rolled back against your shoulder, a guttural curse escaping your lips, lost in the open air. The playful banter died on your tongue, replaced by a singular focus on the exquisite pleasure blossoming under his touch.

A low, resonant chuckle vibrated through Bucky's chest, a sound of pure triumph and satisfaction. He continued his slow, hypnotic strokes, his fingers wrapped around you, applying just the right amount of pressure. While one hand worked its magic, his lips brushed against your neck once more, a soft, teasing caress, before trailing across your chest, lingering on your nipple for a moment, sending another shiver through your core. The combination of his mouth and his hand was pure, intoxicating bliss, leaving you pliant and moaning in his arms.

The exquisite torment of Bucky's hand on your cock was abruptly, deliciously, replaced. He slowly moved his hand away, the absence of his touch a teasing void, only for it to be immediately filled by the hard, aching press of his own cock against yours. The cool water around you seemed to ripple with the sudden, intimate contact, amplifying the sensation.

A ragged breath tore from his chest as he began to slowly buck his hips against you. It was a gentle, tantalizing rhythm at first, a soft push and pull that sent shivers through your entire body. Your back was still pressed against the cool edge of the pool, providing a stable counterpoint to the fluid movement of your lower bodies.

A low moan rumbled from deep within Bucky's throat, escaping against your neck as he buried his face there, inhaling your scent. The sound was raw, filled with a desperate longing that mirrored your own. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the powerful muscles of his thighs pressing against yours as he continued his slow, deliberate movements.

Without conscious thought, your own hand came up, wrapping around both your cocks, joining the dance. Your fingers, a little shaky, gripped them together, slowly stroking them in unison as Bucky’s hips continued their insistent rhythm. The combined friction was almost unbearable, a searing pleasure that built with every stroke, every grind. A guttural curse tore from Bucky's lips, a testament to the escalating intensity, his body trembling slightly against yours. The pool, the night, the very world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a dance of pure, unadulterated desire.

The rhythm built, a slow, agonizing crescendo that pushed you both to the brink. With each gentle, rolling thrust, the sensation of your cocks sliding together under your hand, amplified by the water's cool caress, became almost unbearable. Bucky's breath hitched, coming in ragged gasps against your ear, and his hips picked up their pace, the slow bucking transforming into a more urgent, demanding rhythm. His vibranium arm, still locked around your waist, pressed you even tighter against him, as if trying to merge your bodies into one.

You could feel the tremors starting in his powerful frame, a clear sign of his nearing release. Your own body was screaming, every nerve ending alive and buzzing. Your hand, still clutching both of you, mimicked his movements, stroking faster, harder, adding to the delicious friction. You whimpered, unable to form words, your head still thrown back, exposing your throat to his hungry lips.

A guttural cry tore from Bucky's chest, a raw sound of pure surrender, as his body stiffened against yours. You felt the warm gush of his release against your skin, even through the water, a wave of profound pleasure washing over you both. Almost immediately, your own body followed suit, a groan escaping your lips as you came hard against his abdomen and your hand, the warm rush of your own climax echoing his.

For a long moment, you simply sagged against him, breathless and sated, the last tremors of pleasure fading into the cool water. Bucky held you tight, his breathing ragged, his head resting heavily on your shoulder. The pool lights shimmered around you, casting long, dancing shadows on the patio. The silence that followed was profound, filled only with the soft lapping of the water and the fading echoes of your shared release.

The tremors faded, leaving only the profound warmth of shared intimacy. Your bodies, still pressed together against the cool pool wall, slowly relaxed, the tension bleeding out of every muscle. The only sounds were the gentle lapping of the water and the ragged, heavy breathing of you and Bucky, slowly returning to normal. Your hand, which had been clutching both of your cocks moments before, now came to rest gently on Bucky's damp shoulder, your fingers splaying against the broad, firm muscle.

He shifted slightly, then brought his head up, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His eyes were closed, his breathing still deep and uneven, but a soft, contented sigh escaped him. "God," he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion and pleasure, "I'm going to have to clean the pool again now." The words were almost lost in the humid night air, a half-hearted complaint that held no real malice.

You chuckled, a low, satisfied sound that vibrated between your intertwined bodies. Reaching up, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his nose, feeling the slight stubble against your lips. "Well," you murmured, a playful glint in your eye, "if you don't, Alpine wouldn't be too happy."

He let out a tired groan, but a small smile touched his lips. He knew. He'd gotten your hint, loud and clear. The pool, your carefully constructed oasis, had certainly gotten its use tonight, perhaps not in the way you'd initially envisioned when you filled it, but certainly in a way that left you both thoroughly satisfied. The heat wave outside still pressed in, but within the cool, shimmering embrace of the pool, you and Bucky had found your own perfect storm.

[goodkushnalchohol]

SOUND OF LOVE ‧₊˚ੈ steve rogers x fem!reader. smut / steve’s a little freaky / fresh out of ice cap / glazed donut ahh / maria hill mention / intentional use of lowercase / not proofread

there were many things you could be and most definitely should be doing right now, like completing those progress reports fury asked for last week, or doing a background check on tony's new intern that he wanted done two days ago, or maybe just returning your mom's call she's been so desperately wanting since you moved to manhattan a couple of weeks ago.

you could be doing all those things right now instead of sitting here, with steve, naming songs, movies and events he should catch up on if he wanted to fit in smoothly. you don't know why you found yourself here. you could've went home a long time ago, yet your feet had a mind of their own when they led you to the couch beside him two hours ago.

almost seven months ago, nick fury had been kind enough to drop another important task on you. mentor captain rogers. it was heavy at first, teaching a war veteran who was actually the same age as you all about the world and it's drastic changes since the 1940s. but as you got to know him and work with him and eat with him and see movies with him and go shopping with him, it got a whole bunch easier. yet not with your friends barking down your ear how handsome he was.

and it took every fibre in your being not to act upon that fact. because he was just handsome. he was sweet, and kind, and caring, and charming and all the right things, but you couldn't. your boss depended on you to take this seriously, and it would be unprofessional to do otherwise.

so about once every week, you do a run-down of all the new topics and learned and all the new topics he could learn, like right now.

"uhh... michael jackson! you should definitely know him, he's like one of the greats."

laying sprawled out on the couch of the S.H.I.E.L.D compound with your legs thrown over steve's lap was a lot more comfortable than you thought it would be. "I've heard of him, don't know much of his work though." steve responded, scribbling down the musicians name in his small notepad.

he sat at the bottom end of the sofa, rubbing an absentminded hand over your calf, waiting for you to name another as you held your phone over your face, searching through your playlists like a files room.

"do you know fleetwood mac? stevie nicks and all them?" you moved your phone slightly, peering at him as he shook his head, jotting down the band again. "god that's so upsetting." you muttered lightly, continuing scrolling through the lists of songs. he scoffed quietly, tipping the top of the screen down so you could see his face that was etched in confusion. "how so?"

you smirked at him, lifting your body up to lean against the couches armrest. "well it's just kinda sad how you've never heard such great music before, i mean... silver springs, the chain and dream are all fantastic songs that you have never even heard of, let alone listened to, so it's pretty clear you haven't found good music yet." he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head in disbelief, laughing as he did so.

"i've been here eight months with sam constantly giving me new sources of media to consume. trust me, I've found good music."

his confident expression almost made your knees weak, lucky you were sat across the sofa. "really? like what?" you challenged him, tilting your head to tease him, edging him on to take your bait. "nirvana, acdc, queen, the eagles, kate bush." he listed them off with ease, smiling at you while doing so. "any more?"

he pursed his lips, before nodding his head and continuing. "david bowie, radiohead, oasis, blur, the beatles, lauryn hill, metallica." your brows raised, and a surprised gaze played across your face. metallica. huh. you wouldn't have pictured him to like them. "what was that last one?" he smiled slyly at you, his fingers now following a steady flow of drawing spirals on your leg. "metallica?"

you nodded, folding your arms across your chest and gesturing to further explain. "yeah i like them, and i think they're music is a very different to what i know, i guess that's why i took an interest in them." you laughed at him slowly, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

"i like em too, what's your favourite song? mine would probably be enter sandman." steve hummed in agreement, stroking his chin in a train of thought. "master of puppets. i even learned it on guitar." his words made you scoff and your sure he gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned his head to look at you. "now what?"

you shook your head, grinning at him. "nothing! i just - didn't expect you to play the guitar is all. didn't know you had it in you." steve smiled at you, unaware of the heat pooling in your chest and in your stomach. dirty thoughts swirling in your mind, picturing his fingers playing with the strings of a guitar, then playing with your pussy like a fucking toy, having you however he wanted. it was disgusting, and the image of his hands drawing patterns into the fabric of your jeans right infront of you drove you insane.

it was vile. it was gruelling. it was sickening. it was - "well after i came out of the ice i had a lot of time to myself, y'know, recovering and stuff. so i taught myself how to play one of the best songs in the world." steve pulled you from your mind and you caught his eye, awaiting an answer. you stood abruptly, hoping to clear your mind in a new atmosphere. "come on." you spoke smoothly, walking past his body on the couch.

he followed soon after, catching up quickly. "where are we going?" the blonde asked, casting you a questioning look. you exhaled heavily, leading him farther away from the living area. "my office. you're in dire need of finding a better song to call 'best in the world.'" he snickered at you, figuring out the path to your office. "and you have music in there?"

"of course i do. cds upon cds upon cds of beautiful songs."

the office was cold, with metal filing cabinets against the walls and a large desk in the middle covered in stacks of papers and folders. dim light casted through windows from behind the table, so you moved to turn on the small desk lamp. "cozy" steve mumbled.

two large shelves on the wall held a large sum of cds and cassettes, all organised into alphabetical order. as you beelined for that, the large man found his way around your desk, picking through bundles of sheets and examining reports. you flicked through the abcs and found your way to the middle, finding your disc of choice.

'the only exception' - paramore.

"found it!" you spoke, voice echoing down the empty hallways of the building. you pull the cd to your chest while facing steve. he smiles fondly at you, leaning against the desk as you giggle to yourself. "paramore. one of the best bands to come out within the last few years." you hand him the cd case and let him examine it, reading the song names from the album typed on the back of the plastic. he dips his head in approval, flipping it back around to look at the cover.

you bite your lip in anticipation, hoping for him to be interested in it. "looks good. any songs in your favour that you want me to like?" he responds in a sincere tone. you nod, taking a step closer to him and turning the cd over one last time, pointing to the song. "the only exception. it reminds me of you for some reason."

"really?" he asks, glancing down at you with an expression you just can't make out. "hmm." you murmur quietly, before continuing. "i guess it's because you're one of the few people from work i like, and i mean actually like because i don't make friends with anybody here." you look up at him, and he'a still staring down at you with his strong blue eyes with a smirk playing across his mouth.

you both pause, standing in silence as his hand wraps around yours that previously gestured to the disc. your breath goes shallow as he stares, like he's debating something he shouldn't do. he opens his mouth to speak slowly, as it it's paining him to do so. "and that's it?" you nod carefully, keeping your mouth shut. "no other reason?" he swallows when you shake your head, his adams apple bobbing slightly and you try to ignore the dampness building in your core and his husk voice.

"well, there - there might be one other reason." you whisper, breaking eye contact and instead gazing out the window to avoid awkwardness. his brows furrow but his eyes don't leave your face for a second, and he prays you keep going. "go on."

his voice is needy, yet you don't want to admit it. not when this could ruin the sacred job fury gave you and absolutely tarnish all respect people have for you. but you can't. you cant go on for any longer without him. you want him so bad, and right now its clear steve wants you too. "what is it? please just tell me." his voice breaks and it comes out a little whimpered, and all you want to do right now is sit on his face until the only thing you hear are those sounds from underneath you.

jesus christ.

your hands find the collar of his shirt and you pull him down like a fucking starved woman. your lips meet in a clash of tongue and teeth, but it doesn't matter. there's a chance you won't ever have this again, so you're making it matter. your on your toes, his neck his craned to hard it looks painful, but he doesn't care. not when he's getting what he wanted since that first meeting.

his hands are splayed across the surface of your back, pushing you against his body like he'll never feel you again. your tongue slides across his lips, and he forces his mouth into yours - something you hadn't expected from captain fucking america.

those long, rough, calloused fingertips graze the fat of your ass, yet pull back quickly like he's dancing on the edge of impurity. you moan unintentionally into his mouth, making his hands grip your hips tightly and a pained "fuck." is muttered quietly. But you still hear it. steve grasps the nape of your neck, holding you against him like he needs it.

the sound of breathy exhales and deep groans echo down the hall, and you only hope no one came in to get last minute paperwork. you try to hear it, his laboured breathing and whimpered whines, you try to feel it, scraping your nails down his chest through his button up and grip his biceps harshly, yet nothing beats the taste of it. his sweet mouth working against yours, like he's savouring it, and you are too.

his knee presses between your legs, and you nearly cry out at the feeling of his muscled thigh. "please." you don't know what your begging for, but you need it now. you rock against his leg, pleasing the ache in your core. a hand makes it's way to the bulge in his jeans -

its fucking huge.

his body stutters with yours as you palm him slowly, and a soft groan bounces of the walls. "god - sweetheart, y-you're so good." his words go straight to your head and you almost feel dizzy, riding his thigh harder like a rabbit. he lifts your body up with ease, hands placed tightly on your waist as he places you on the desk.

theres a pause in the air as you both catch your breath, a piece of saliva connecting you two as you were before. his leg is still between your heat and your hand is still rubbing him slowly, like two teenagers fucking for the first time. his chest is rising and falling rapidly while you lean against it, and your eye catches the weekly mission report you're supposed to send fury tomorrow. "this is bad, this is so so bad." you glance at his concerned face, his head already thinking the same as you. "fury would kill us if he finds out." you whisper, head dipping lowly like a sad dog.

you're both still, yet the feeling of need still lingers in the air. "do we stop..? the farther we go the more likely he'll know and i -" his breath falters and bucks up into your hand as you press harder onto him. "shit. I don't want to stop." he says quietly, gazing into your eyes with such desperation you think you might cry.

you shake your head aggressively and your hands close around the back of his neck. "neither do i."

your lips trailed down his neck, sucking, biting and kissing all you can get your mouth on as his hands hold your thighs and he grinds against your hand. you exhale shakily when your other hands moves down to undo the buttons of his shirt, exposing more and more skin for you to get your hands on. when you get the last button, the shirt is gone immediately, thrown behind him somewhere as you bring both your hands to his chest and claw down it.

steve sighs in discontent when he loses the friction, but he grows more satisfied once your fingers find the hem of your top and pull it over your head, revealing your chest that's only covered in a bra. his tongue makes its way to your chest, licking and suckling all down your breasts.

you feel his growing tent and its urge for release, your hands just barely unclips his belt and he's already humping your hand, begging for your touch. he whimpers into your chest needily, practically having dry sex with your hand, you couldn't care less though, his mouth his hot and wet and it makes your cunt fucking drip.

his hips grinding against your hand speed up, yet you don't notice with the sounds of his moans ringing in your ears. "fuck, keep going, so beautiful sweetheart, you're so good, god."

both your jeans are still on, and he's blabbering over your tits, and it's so fucking hot. his work on your chest freezes and he lets out a guttural groan as his hips continue fucking into your hand while he comes, a large damp area spreading over his bulge. "shit." steve rogers, captain america, just came in his pants. and it was the most lewd, hot and sexiest thing you've ever seen.

you both catch your breath again, and your replaying that moment in your head over and over again to remember it well, because you will most definitely be thinking of it every time your hands are buried in your panties while you're a moaning mess.

steve swallows watching your face with slight embarrassment in his eyes. "i'm sorry, it's just uh.. it's been a while." he says slowly, a small awkward smile playing across his face. you giggle, rubbing soothing circle into his shoulder. "don't be sorry, that was so fucking hot."

a loud door bangs closed at the end of the hallway, startling you and steve. the following footsteps makes his head shoot up and look at you with wide eyes and an open mouth. "quick!" you utter quietly, jumping off the desk and pulling your shirt on over you head and fixing you hair.

steve takes longer, fumbling with the many buttons of his shirt and you know he won't look ready quick enough so you usher him behind the door, hoping whoever it is won't peer in as you sit at your table, pretending to be working.

the footsteps pause right at your door, knocking twice before opening it, and hiding steve from your view. you glance up, holding a pen over a page in a fake act, smiling at the person across from you. "maria! what are you doing here so late?" you question the woman, eyes following the sheets of paper in her hand. "hey, could ask you the same question." she says skeptically, looking at you with a funny look. "just dropping in some forms fury wants everyone to fill in, nothing special."

you nod along as she hands you the form, turning around swiftly and walking back out the door. "i'll see you tomorrow then, you too steve!"

©veluques - please do not copy or post my works on any other platforms!!

[void0mega]

Get to know your mutuals!

Never expected to be tagged in smth like this, thanks @saracrossing02 :)

Fav colors: Purple and blue. Just look at my pfp lol 💜💙

Currently Reading: Nothing, haven't read a book in a long time and now I just don't feel like it. Did read more when I was younger, especially a spanish comic called Mortadelo y Filemón.

Last Song: Entrusting This World to Idols ~ Idolatrize World. Listening to it as I'm writing this :P

Last Film: Been a while since I saw a movie so I don't really remember. I think it was Alien Romulus.

Sweet/Savory/Salty: A bit of all, used to like sweet more.

Tea or Coffee: None, I like lemonade tho 🍋

Working on: I'd like to say that I'm working on a Touhou animation and a TotK pixel art, but it's been weeks since I've drawn anything. Once summer arrives, my sleep schedule goes to hell, going to sleep around 1am and end up falling asleep at 6am, so I wake up later than usual and barely got time to draw before going to work. 🔥🫠🔥

Tagging: Won't tag anyone, I'm not that active here and most of my mutuals are from other websites 🔵🦋 If anyone wants to jump in the wagon, feel free.

Get to know your mutuals!

*grabs mic and clears throat* Thank you so much @jintaka-hane and @igiulss for tagging me! I love these things and I love you girls! ❤️

Favorite Colors: Black, purple, and red. I was a bit of a goth teen, and my favorite colors never really got to change 😎

Currently Reading: SMUT! *snort* I used to care a lot about what I read, trying to stick to 'good literature' and the classics and all, but I'm now at a stage of my life where I stoped giving a f*ck and now I read what the hell I feel like. Judgment be damned. So I'm going through the ACOTAR series, devouring them like a madwoman. I have Edgar Allan Poe's short stories giving me the stink eye from my nightstand, and I might use him as a palate cleanser after!

Last Song: Oh, I've been cranking the Imperfect soundtrack I created on Spotify to get me in the mood for the next chapter, and the last one that played was, curiously enough, Imperfect by Stone Sour. I can't get enough of Corey Taylor, that man is a God!

Last Film: I barely watch any TV. I read and write in my spare time, so the last movie I saw was in the movie theatre and I took my son, so we got to see the live action of Lilo & Stitch! I enjoyed it a lot! 🥰

Sweet/Salty/Sour: All of them???? I mean... I can't choose! I have a very sweet tooth, but I love sour things... and salty snacks? UGH! Why are you doing this to me??? Gun to the head: sweet!

Tea or Coffee: Coffee. 100% coffee. Expressos, please. Or how we call it here in Portugal: bica. Actually was discussing this with Giuls just yesterday. I need at least 4 of them on a daily basis. 😍

Working On: Too many things at the same time, actually 😆 I'm working on Imperfect, Kid's Meet-Cute and I'm also throwing a few paragraphs for chapter 2 of All of Yourself, as well as trying to plan and write a very challenging longfic for my main account with ships like: SaNami, LawBin, Ace&Vivi and ZoTash.

I'm going to tag *checks to see who hasn't been tagged yet* @physics-of-one-piece @laidenbreecatchall @isabeauwolf and anyone else who wants to jump in on the fun wagon!

[lrgoescrazy]

i drew Yael FINALLY man i've been procrastinating lately, artfight is in like a week 😭

this is basically a redraw of my very first full drawing of her

i still have two more to do and I wanted to redraw yilin's ref but I don't think I'll have time to do that

GOOO TEAM CRYSTAL

[ilovedthestars]

Yuma, Past & Future

Some more versions of the art I made for this ask game prompt! On the left is Yuma in the earlier part of her timeline, and on the right is her future self.

This took me a full week because I drew it paper doll style, with fully drawn bodies under the clothes, and in two separate versions!

I've been wanting to do a before/after version of Yuma for a while, because of the potential it has for her story. Elaboration under the cut since it got long!

At the start of her story, Yuma is living on a backwater asteroid in a particularly dismal corner of the Corporation Rim, eking out a living as a mechanic, deep in debt. She's trapped and just trying to survive, without much of a future to look forward to.

But then an act of kindness comes back around, and Crowbar, the SecUnit she freed and secretly shipped off the asteroid to give it a chance at a better life, returns to offer her a future in return! And she leaves her life behind to travel with it to Preservation, where she doesn't have to work herself to death, and has time to rest and get medical care and be healthier than she has in years.

An important part of that for me is that she gains some weight, now that she is in a place where everyone is provided with enough food to eat! And also starts using a cane, because she's been living on a low-gravity asteroid for a decade or so and the transition back to what is considered "standard" gravity is hard on her joints. Because weight gain and mobility aids being symbols of growth & being in a better place is fun and cool!

(On a personal note: I have the experience of gaining weight and watching my body change and celebrating it as a marker of progress towards better health, but also having the complicated feelings of perceiving my body differently now that it's less thin. So this is something I want to see more often, and to put into my own art.)

Hence the paper dolls—so I could show the changes in her body as well as in the way she dresses herself. And it was totally worth the time it took to draw the same character basically 4 separate times lol.

While I'm here, a list of things I am very proud of in this drawing:

Finishing it at all! it was a big project and I got pretty stuck in the middle, but I stuck it out!

Possibly the best pair of feet I have ever drawn (and TWO good looking pairs of shoes!)

Drawing the plaid on that flannel BY HAND

The anatomy and the fabric folds!! Shoutout to the Morpho books I finally pulled off my shelf and looked at (Fat & Skin Folds and Clothing Folds & Creases), which helped me so much with realistic body shapes and how to drape clothing over them. I feel like I really leveled up my drawing skills with the effort I put into doing this well!

Also, Yuma & Crowbar's story in fic form can be found here on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50659984

[nebulousboops]

So just send me / Send me one little peach / Just a sweet sunny piece of you

zoom under the cut

[hansoeii]

crowley

[featherfangart]

The Sun and The Moon

more of the self-indulgent experimentation with the cosmic knights, heheh <3

[springtz]

Testament goes grocery shopping

[bri-does-art]

I know it's like the penultimate day of mermay but--

Guess whose wrist is beginning to get better :))

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Wrapping up the season with a redraw (Jan 2024)!

Thank you all for these last 6 months, I have loved making so many people laugh from my silly comics B*)

[omint]

merlin's sketchdump and hbd to me yaay