same username on instagram, bluesky and twitter.

friends/mutuals can dm me for my discord :)

my setup is csp ex v1 + wacom intuos s

fic additional materials organisational post here

other tags:

#jichan'shandslipped -- for posting suggestive art

#jichanmakes -- for other stuff i make that's not illustration

#sunday six -- for writing wips

He can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. “I understand. No more, I understand.”

Bradley faintly recalls wine shared over a campfire-lit night, recalls Linda’s bad man. She thinks she understands, she thinks she knows, and she doesn’t. Linda strokes his hair some more, and Bradley remembers being 8 years old and crying into his mother’s arms, feeling as though he didn’t deserve to live if she hated him; comforting him even though she was the reason why— No. He stops himself. This isn’t that either. It just isn’t.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” She whispers, sounding upset. “And I meant it, what I promised you. I would never, never ever—”

“Don’t—”

“—ever, hurt you. Trust me.”