just fish

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[feeshu09]

Hiii! I'm opening commissions~ 🌟

More info under the cut ~

To order a commission, please checkout via Ko-fi!

Please wait for confirmation - I'll review your request and let you know if I can take it.

NO cancellations. NO refunds (unless there's an issue on my end that prohibits me from finishing your commission).

I'll be sending an initial sketch. Please give feedback clearly and promptly. There is a maximum of (3) revisions during the sketching stage.

When it comes to references, any would do! Character sheets, pictures, etc.

Simple props are OK. I would notify you if the prop is within my ability to draw.

All my works are fully colored.

I'll send finished work via Ko-fi or email depending on your preference.

I'd appreciate credits when you post!

feeshu09's Commissions

Commissions Open! Click to see feeshu09's commission menu.

[eggsolotl]

[feeshu09]

After almost two days... I got ✨her✨ Froakie was my first starter in my XY playthrough like a decade ago, so it made me really really incandescently happy to find her 🤧🥹

[feeshu09]

I guess even the bad days weren't so bad because I had you.

[queenofzan]

one of my favorite things about scum villain fics is that everyone is gleefully willing to be lazy and silly and blame it on airplane

don't want to come up with a monster? just use a kaiju. airplane was rewatching toku stuff that week. what a hack.

came up with a monster but can't come up with a good name? just describe it and say airplane was lazy naming it. what a hack.

otoh come up with something legitimately cool and throw it in, and then you can have airplane going, "ah, that was a good one, wasn't it?" or cucumber going "what a waste!"

either way is fun!

[feeshu09]

When in doubt, just blame it on airplane 👍👍

[feeshu09]

what if shen twins but they're more gremlin coded (they're each other's enabler)

SJ : let's see if they cry in public. I want their shame to pass down at least three generations.

SY : done. god, i love it when we collaborate.

[feeshu09]

I made a little ficlet about their dynamic in SY's POV under the cut ~ ✨ (nobody dies, everyone is well adjusted. Sort of. Binghe is a good kid)

People in Cang Qiong Mountain Sect brace themselves at the sound of our footsteps. It’s honestly rude. We haven’t even done anything—yet.

I say “we” because it’s always we.

Me and my brother, my ge, Shen Qingqiu.

Yes. That Shen Qingqiu. Peak Lord of Qing Jing, Lord of the pretty robes and prettier sneering, Professional bitch face with a tongue sharp enough to slice egos in half.

And me? Shen Yuan. Wandering cultivator, sometimes Hall Master ? (on Tuesdays), beast enthusiast (on Thursdays), and the reason why gege remembers to hydrate.

We’re what you call…a package deal. And for some inexplicable reason, despite years of training, cultivation, etiquette lectures, and embroidered sleeves—we are still street rats in spirit.

Graceful ones.

Deadly ones.

But street rats, nonetheless.

---

“Shizun, Shen Yuan-xiansheng is here again…”

“I know,” Qing Jing Peak’s head disciple says, his voice trembling slightly, “I felt a disturbance in the air.”

That’s me, by the way. The disturbance. But in Jiu-ge’s speak it means: ‘my favorite person in the world’. I arrived this morning with a bag full of his favorite sweets as an offering.

Anyway, the moment I step foot on Qing Jing Peak, a flock of junior disciples gather like hungry pigeons. Asking if I got anything for them. I did, and distributed the goods evenly. The little ones thanked me with a smile.

“Why do you do this,” comes a smooth, dry voice from above me, and there he is. My twin. My brother. My trauma-bonded enabler.

Shen Qingqiu, in all his immaculate, smugly-suffering glory, descending like an immortal crane who secretly wants to murder every single member of his own sect.

Aaand...the disciples scattered.

“You’re distracting them,” he informed me with graceful a flick of his fan, covering the lower half of his face. “Surely you aren't that incompetent to send word of your arrival ahead of time.”

“I missed you,” I say, and it’s not even a lie.

He gives me a long-suffering look, as if he isn’t ten seconds away from inviting me into the bamboo house for tea.

He huffed and turned, walking up the path to the bamboo house. He didn't need to tell me to follow.

We are both, you see, dramatic little bastards.

---

Here’s the thing about surviving childhood as orphans on the streets: you learn fast. How to lie. How to cheat. How to get back in ways that don’t always draw blood but do leave very long-lasting emotional scars.

Shen Jiu—sorry, Shen Qingqiu—leaned into elegance and severity like it could hold his soul together. I leaned into chaos and charm. But under the silk and the sect titles and our frankly excessive skincare routines, we are still those same boys who used to steal buns and bite anyone who looked at us funny.

It just hurts less when you're dressed in a small fortune’s worth of layered brocade.

Let me be clear: We may not always start fights.

But we finish them.

---

The Luo Binghe Incident™ happens on a Wednesday.

Of course.

Because that’s the day I’m technically not employed.

“Your disciple is a little…” I make a vague wiggly motion with my fingers. “Murder-curious.”

“He’s fine,” Qingqiu says, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.

“Qingqiu.”

“He’s a Qing Jing disciple,” he replies, with the tone of a parent whose child just broke a priceless vase and insists it was an experiment in gravity. “Curiosity is encouraged.”

“He asked me if there are any repercussions in pushing Ming Fan off the side of the mountain.”

“Boys will be boys.”

“He’s surveying the highest drop in the peak as we speak.”

My brother pauses.

“…I will have a talk with him.”

“This is your fault,” I point out, sipping my osmanthus wine. “You told him emotional repression is what good cultivators do.”

“It is,” he insists.

Our gazes meet. A pause.

We both burst out laughing.

It’s loud, obnoxious, and utterly improper for cultivators of our stature. A group of sect elders walk by and quickly divert their gaze, pretending they do not see the Shen twins losing their minds over emotionally-repressed murder disciples.

---

They say Cang Qiong is a place of discipline and refinement, a sanctuary of spiritual pursuit.

It is also a place where Shen Qingqiu once roasted another Peak Lord’s fashion sense so ruthlessly in open court that the man left cultivation altogether and became a monk because he insulted my intelligence.

And where I, Shen Yuan, once accidentally seduced the entire visiting delegation from Huan Hua Palace for fun and then accidentally stole some of their stuff because they questioned my brother's honor.

Not because I’m petty.

But because trauma.

(And because I am petty.)

We don’t talk about feelings much, my brother and I. But we show up. We support each other’s schemes. We hold each other’s grudges like gold. He once broke into a noble household’s vault as a kid just because some lordling kicked me down. I once challenged an arrogant cultivator to a duel for laughing at his birth name.

(“Shen Jiu” is off-limits. Only I can call him that, and only when I’m feeling extremely clingy. Which is often.)

We are...unwell. But we are immaculate.

My brother walks with the poise of a man who has survived too much and now only tolerates beauty, discipline, and me. He drinks tea like it’s an art form. He punishes enemies by bankrupting their families and then sending them condolence letters on fancy paper.

Me? I flirt. I dance. I scheme. I gossip. But when gege lifts his fan and I draw my sword—we are terrifying.

But I promise, we are also kind. Qi-ge can vouch for us!

We just have…a very intense way of showing it.

[feeshu09]

😂😂😂😭

[feeshu09]

All of Binghe's muscles are for hugging shizun 💪

[itzitxou]

I love fics where Shen Jiu is out there minding his own business when he accidentally finds a pitiful baby Shen Yuan lying around and he's immediately like "oh shit guess I'm a dad now"

I love seeing him slowly learning to love and be loved....❤️‍🩹

[morushroom]

may i share with you the best video on the internet

[nosleepforaiba-deactivated20251]

Hardware store saturday

[feeshu09]

what if shen twins but they're more gremlin coded (they're each other's enabler)

SJ : let's see if they cry in public. I want their shame to pass down at least three generations.

SY : done. god, i love it when we collaborate.

[feeshu09]

I made a little ficlet about their dynamic in SY's POV under the cut ~ ✨ (nobody dies, everyone is well adjusted. Sort of. Binghe is a good kid)

People in Cang Qiong Mountain Sect brace themselves at the sound of our footsteps. It’s honestly rude. We haven’t even done anything—yet.

I say “we” because it’s always we.

Me and my brother, my ge, Shen Qingqiu.

Yes. That Shen Qingqiu. Peak Lord of Qing Jing, Lord of the pretty robes and prettier sneering, Professional bitch face with a tongue sharp enough to slice egos in half.

And me? Shen Yuan. Wandering cultivator, sometimes Hall Master ? (on Tuesdays), beast enthusiast (on Thursdays), and the reason why gege remembers to hydrate.

We’re what you call…a package deal. And for some inexplicable reason, despite years of training, cultivation, etiquette lectures, and embroidered sleeves—we are still street rats in spirit.

Graceful ones.

Deadly ones.

But street rats, nonetheless.

---

“Shizun, Shen Yuan-xiansheng is here again…”

“I know,” Qing Jing Peak’s head disciple says, his voice trembling slightly, “I felt a disturbance in the air.”

That’s me, by the way. The disturbance. But in Jiu-ge’s speak it means: ‘my favorite person in the world’. I arrived this morning with a bag full of his favorite sweets as an offering.

Anyway, the moment I step foot on Qing Jing Peak, a flock of junior disciples gather like hungry pigeons. Asking if I got anything for them. I did, and distributed the goods evenly. The little ones thanked me with a smile.

“Why do you do this,” comes a smooth, dry voice from above me, and there he is. My twin. My brother. My trauma-bonded enabler.

Shen Qingqiu, in all his immaculate, smugly-suffering glory, descending like an immortal crane who secretly wants to murder every single member of his own sect.

Aaand...the disciples scattered.

“You’re distracting them,” he informed me with graceful a flick of his fan, covering the lower half of his face. “Surely you aren't that incompetent to send word of your arrival ahead of time.”

“I missed you,” I say, and it’s not even a lie.

He gives me a long-suffering look, as if he isn’t ten seconds away from inviting me into the bamboo house for tea.

He huffed and turned, walking up the path to the bamboo house. He didn't need to tell me to follow.

We are both, you see, dramatic little bastards.

---

Here’s the thing about surviving childhood as orphans on the streets: you learn fast. How to lie. How to cheat. How to get back in ways that don’t always draw blood but do leave very long-lasting emotional scars.

Shen Jiu—sorry, Shen Qingqiu—leaned into elegance and severity like it could hold his soul together. I leaned into chaos and charm. But under the silk and the sect titles and our frankly excessive skincare routines, we are still those same boys who used to steal buns and bite anyone who looked at us funny.

It just hurts less when you're dressed in a small fortune’s worth of layered brocade.

Let me be clear: We may not always start fights.

But we finish them.

---

The Luo Binghe Incident™ happens on a Wednesday.

Of course.

Because that’s the day I’m technically not employed.

“Your disciple is a little…” I make a vague wiggly motion with my fingers. “Murder-curious.”

“He’s fine,” Qingqiu says, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.

“Qingqiu.”

“He’s a Qing Jing disciple,” he replies, with the tone of a parent whose child just broke a priceless vase and insists it was an experiment in gravity. “Curiosity is encouraged.”

“He asked me if there are any repercussions in pushing Ming Fan off the side of the mountain.”

“Boys will be boys.”

“He’s surveying the highest drop in the peak as we speak.”

My brother pauses.

“…I will have a talk with him.”

“This is your fault,” I point out, sipping my osmanthus wine. “You told him emotional repression is what good cultivators do.”

“It is,” he insists.

Our gazes meet. A pause.

We both burst out laughing.

It’s loud, obnoxious, and utterly improper for cultivators of our stature. A group of sect elders walk by and quickly divert their gaze, pretending they do not see the Shen twins losing their minds over emotionally-repressed murder disciples.

---

They say Cang Qiong is a place of discipline and refinement, a sanctuary of spiritual pursuit.

It is also a place where Shen Qingqiu once roasted another Peak Lord’s fashion sense so ruthlessly in open court that the man left cultivation altogether and became a monk because he insulted my intelligence.

And where I, Shen Yuan, once accidentally seduced the entire visiting delegation from Huan Hua Palace for fun and then accidentally stole some of their stuff because they questioned my brother's honor.

Not because I’m petty.

But because trauma.

(And because I am petty.)

We don’t talk about feelings much, my brother and I. But we show up. We support each other’s schemes. We hold each other’s grudges like gold. He once broke into a noble household’s vault as a kid just because some lordling kicked me down. I once challenged an arrogant cultivator to a duel for laughing at his birth name.

(“Shen Jiu” is off-limits. Only I can call him that, and only when I’m feeling extremely clingy. Which is often.)

We are...unwell. But we are immaculate.

My brother walks with the poise of a man who has survived too much and now only tolerates beauty, discipline, and me. He drinks tea like it’s an art form. He punishes enemies by bankrupting their families and then sending them condolence letters on fancy paper.

Me? I flirt. I dance. I scheme. I gossip. But when gege lifts his fan and I draw my sword—we are terrifying.

But I promise, we are also kind. Qi-ge can vouch for us!

We just have…a very intense way of showing it.

[feeshu09]

what if shen twins but they're more gremlin coded (they're each other's enabler)

SJ : let's see if they cry in public. I want their shame to pass down at least three generations.

SY : done. god, i love it when we collaborate.

[retiredpeach]

'Your name ' but it's Shen Yuan/ Shen Jiu dimension hopping

[feeshu09]

What if Shen Yuan gets a petty princess boyfriend because the universe (I) said so.

-wrote a little ficlet about them under the cut ✨-

Shen Yuan's (very confused) POV:

You know, there are days you wake up and think, “Wow, life is weird.” And then there are days you wake up and there's a beautiful, irritated, probably-came-from-a-period-drama man sitting on your couch like he owns the place, glaring at your toaster like it personally offended his ancestors.

Yeah. I’m talking about that kind of day.

It started, as these things always do, with a thunderclap, some suspiciously glittery mist, and the next thing I knew, there was a very angry, very elegant man standing in the middle of my studio apartment. He looked around my humble little man-cave—okay, fine, it was a bit of a pig sty. I wasn't expecting visitors—and sneered so hard I thought his face would stay that way forever.

“This is your abode?” he asked, with the same tone I use when I accidentally step in dog poop.

“Uh,” I said intelligibly. “Yes…?”

He hissed. Hissed. Like a very angry, very pretty feral cat. It was alarming. And a little hot? No, stop that, Shen Yuan. Bad. No petting the murder kitty.

So. A quick summary: the stranger introduced himself—begrudgingly—as Shen Jiu.

A handsome stranger.

And he was in my house.

Living in my apartment.

Breathing my air.

Criticizing my instant ramen choices like he wasn’t literally eating all of them.

“You eat like a beggar,” he said yesterday, sipping tea he made himself after complaining my kettle was ‘barbaric’. “This isn't sustenance. It's punishment.”

Okay. One: accurate. Two: rude.

But we fell into a rhythm after a few weeks, somehow. Like a weird little odd-couple sitcom. Every morning, I’d wake up to Shen Jiu curled in a pile of throw blankets on my futon, looking like a disgruntled Persian cat. He hated the TV but would still watch it with a kind of horrified fascination. He especially hated anime. That was… a problem.

The turning point came when he caught me watching some over the top shonen anime and heard me make a passing comment about the protagonist’s abs.

“You like that?” he asked, voice tight. “You like him?”

“What? No, I—” I laughed, awkward. “It’s just anime—”

He made a sound like someone dropped a piano on his pride and turned off the laptop with a single disdainful poke of a button.

“You’re not allowed to look at other men,” he said, eyes narrowed.

“…What?”

“You heard me,” he said, as if that explained anything and then settled on my lap.

Then he stole my glasses.

He literally plucked them off my face like a bully on the schoolyard and perched them on his own perfectly arched nose.

I stared. Squinted, really. “I’m legally blind.”

“Good,” he snapped. “Then you can’t ogle those fake men anymore. Who draws them like that anyway? It’s obscene.”

“Jiu-ge,” I said gently. “Um… Can I have my glasses back please?”

“For what? To look at other men? I don’t think so.”

Never—and I mean never—has anyone been so furiously jealous of fictional anime boys that they physically robbed me of my glasses. It was almost impressive.

And I let him keep them.

Why? Because the alternative was him going back into Feral Mode™ where he hisses and threatens to set my bookshelf on fire with qi that I still don’t believe exists in this universe.

Besides… I didn’t mind the glasses thing so much when he was situated on my lap like I was his personal throne.

“You’re warm,” he said, nonchalant, like this was normal. Like he didn't came from a completely different reality.

“Cool,” I wheezed, not cool at all.

“You’re flustered,” he added, smug.

I was. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Instead, I tried to focus on the dead screen of my laptop, even if everything was blurry.

So now I’m trapped in a never-ending loop of being lowkey bullied by a man with cheekbones sharp enough to commit murder, who eats all my ramen, hoards my glasses, gets jealous of anime characters, and has absolutely no concept of personal space.

And you know what the worst part is?

I think I might like it.

Please send help.

…Or not.

[feeshu09]

This tag is giving me brain worms.

[feeshu09]

What if Shen Yuan gets a petty princess boyfriend because the universe (I) said so.

-wrote a little ficlet about them under the cut ✨-

Shen Yuan's (very confused) POV:

You know, there are days you wake up and think, “Wow, life is weird.” And then there are days you wake up and there's a beautiful, irritated, probably-came-from-a-period-drama man sitting on your couch like he owns the place, glaring at your toaster like it personally offended his ancestors.

Yeah. I’m talking about that kind of day.

It started, as these things always do, with a thunderclap, some suspiciously glittery mist, and the next thing I knew, there was a very angry, very elegant man standing in the middle of my studio apartment. He looked around my humble little man-cave—okay, fine, it was a bit of a pig sty. I wasn't expecting visitors—and sneered so hard I thought his face would stay that way forever.

“This is your abode?” he asked, with the same tone I use when I accidentally step in dog poop.

“Uh,” I said intelligibly. “Yes…?”

He hissed. Hissed. Like a very angry, very pretty feral cat. It was alarming. And a little hot? No, stop that, Shen Yuan. Bad. No petting the murder kitty.

So. A quick summary: the stranger introduced himself—begrudgingly—as Shen Jiu.

A handsome stranger.

And he was in my house.

Living in my apartment.

Breathing my air.

Criticizing my instant ramen choices like he wasn’t literally eating all of them.

“You eat like a beggar,” he said yesterday, sipping tea he made himself after complaining my kettle was ‘barbaric’. “This isn't sustenance. It's punishment.”

Okay. One: accurate. Two: rude.

But we fell into a rhythm after a few weeks, somehow. Like a weird little odd-couple sitcom. Every morning, I’d wake up to Shen Jiu curled in a pile of throw blankets on my futon, looking like a disgruntled Persian cat. He hated the TV but would still watch it with a kind of horrified fascination. He especially hated anime. That was… a problem.

The turning point came when he caught me watching some over the top shonen anime and heard me make a passing comment about the protagonist’s abs.

“You like that?” he asked, voice tight. “You like him?”

“What? No, I—” I laughed, awkward. “It’s just anime—”

He made a sound like someone dropped a piano on his pride and turned off the laptop with a single disdainful poke of a button.

“You’re not allowed to look at other men,” he said, eyes narrowed.

“…What?”

“You heard me,” he said, as if that explained anything and then settled on my lap.

Then he stole my glasses.

He literally plucked them off my face like a bully on the schoolyard and perched them on his own perfectly arched nose.

I stared. Squinted, really. “I’m legally blind.”

“Good,” he snapped. “Then you can’t ogle those fake men anymore. Who draws them like that anyway? It’s obscene.”

“Jiu-ge,” I said gently. “Um… Can I have my glasses back please?”

“For what? To look at other men? I don’t think so.”

Never—and I mean never—has anyone been so furiously jealous of fictional anime boys that they physically robbed me of my glasses. It was almost impressive.

And I let him keep them.

Why? Because the alternative was him going back into Feral Mode™ where he hisses and threatens to set my bookshelf on fire with qi that I still don’t believe exists in this universe.

Besides… I didn’t mind the glasses thing so much when he was situated on my lap like I was his personal throne.

“You’re warm,” he said, nonchalant, like this was normal. Like he didn't came from a completely different reality.

“Cool,” I wheezed, not cool at all.

“You’re flustered,” he added, smug.

I was. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Instead, I tried to focus on the dead screen of my laptop, even if everything was blurry.

So now I’m trapped in a never-ending loop of being lowkey bullied by a man with cheekbones sharp enough to commit murder, who eats all my ramen, hoards my glasses, gets jealous of anime characters, and has absolutely no concept of personal space.

And you know what the worst part is?

I think I might like it.

Please send help.

…Or not.

[meltesh28]

drew a storyboard of my favorite scene from my favorite fic by @jjackfrost !!!!!!! I've genuinely lost count of how many times I reread this fic 😭

[jjackfrost]

HI HELLO

i was just told about this by a friend of mine and i just watched it and i !???!??!??! I DO NOT HAVE THE WORDS actually i do but i dont know where to begin

OKAY. FIVE MINUTES IS INSANE. i don't know how long you've worked on this, i can only imagine for a LONG time. i figured the video was over at some point and checked how long there was left, and i was just HALFWAY--i dont know a whole lot about story boarding, but i am completely blown away by the quality of this?????? it feels so professional (and maybe you are, it would at least not surprise me), it is absolutely beautiful to look at. the framing, the feeling of movement, the emotion ITS LIKE WATCHING A MOVIE, I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS REAL???? everyone ive talked to about this has completely lost it at the part where he turns into jack frost, INCLUDING ME. LITERALLY GASPED AND SLAPPED MY HAND OVER MY MOUTH. the way you thought of that. its PERFECT. ITS SO BEAUTIFUL. I AM GOING TO THROW UP

also fucking. "storyboard" ok dude. DUDE. this is an animatic i mean this just feels like straight up animation at some points, its SO dynamic and smooth andjahdgkjdnjkhdjgaHAHHHAAA WHAT!!!!!!! WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also want to thank you because i often hear that chapter 10 is a lot of people's favorite of otnwas, and while i can see that and i also was happy with it and enjoyed writing it, i still didnt expect it to make people feel the way that it did, or at least as strongly as it seems to affect people. ofc its incredibly rewarding to see how much people love this fic, but ive often wondered and felt a bit like man i wish sometimes that i could forget having written it, so that i could experience it as a reader. and this video, seeing it for the first time, i felt that same way that so many describe reading this scene--the art put together with the music, it feels so exhilarating, it feels like flying, like i cannot emphasize enough how flawlessly you've managed to capture the feeling i hoped to convey in my writing. so thank you for allowing me to experience that too <3 <3 <3

you've done an unbelievably incredible job with this, and i hope you feel proud because this is one of the best animatics/storyboards ive ever seen. TYSM, i dont think im capable of expressing how grateful i am. its incredibly inspiring. ive had a bad writing block for some time now, and this felt like a slap in the face (in a good way!) that no matter what happens, i have inspired people and made people happy with my writing, and that is more meaningful to me than anything else. keeping this in mind as i get back into writing now :)

SO THANK YOU, I HOPE YOU'LL HAVE/HAVE HAD A WONDERFUL DAY. im gonna watch this 2575498 times

[meltesh28]

Hi!!! I’ve wanted to draw something for otnwas for ages and I had this thumbnailed out sometime last year and it was in the past few weeks that I could finally go all out and get this done… Your writing is so vivid I really was watching a movie whenever I read otnwas!!!! Voiced and everything!!

It was a lot of work but the most fun I’ve ever had on a project and your response made everything super worth it! I’m really glad you enjoyed it and felt the same exhilarating flying feeling 😭 No matter how many times I've reread otnwas it still sucks me in and its like i'm there...

thank YOU!!!!!!!! x a billion!!!!!

[sunderwight]

One of the things that tickles me about SJ and SY fics is that well, sometimes they're brothers, sometimes they're parent and kid, etc, but the overall vibe is usually consistent like:

Older Bro Shen Jiu: this is my idiot didi, if any of you fuckers corrupt him I will bite out your throats.

Younger Bro Shen Jiu: this my idiot gege, if any of you fuckers corrupt him I will bite out your throats.

Father Shen Jiu: this is my idiot son, if any of you fuckers corrupt him I will bite out your throats.

Son Shen Jiu: this is my idiot father, if any of you fuckers corrupt him I will bite out your throats.

Shizun Shen Jiu: this is my idiot head disciple, if any of you fuckers corrupt him I will bite out your throats.

Boyfriend Shen Jiu: this is some idiot I've never met before in my life, if any of you fuckers corrupt him I will bite out your throats.

Every Shen Yuan Regardless: please stop threatening to bite out peoples throats, oh my god this is the shit that will get you killed, DO NOT KICK THAT CHILD WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU I am trying to save your life here! (」°ロ°)」

[eggsolotl]

PEG HIM, SHIZUN!!

I love when old man yaoi........... anyways, more of my Peak Lord!SY au!!! \(≧▽≦)/

(Cover parody for the manga, 'Go For It, Nakamura-Kun!' - CUTE AS HELL MANGA BTW)