My name is Junebuggiezz, I'm a fanfic writer in my spare time for fun and self-indulgence for myself and other readers! This also allows me to get into more media and find interest in them.
I AM AN ADULT! Please keep that in mind as you go through my blog. This blog is SFW with some suggestive things (posts, comments or implications). (✿☉｡☉)
Rules & Requests!
[Main Fandoms]
LambyLand, Final Space, Splatoon (games), Regular Show, Lego Monkie Kid, The Amazing Digital Circus, Bendy & Boris Myth of the Machine
SO. as it is, MIDAS chapter 8 currently is finished. Right now my editor will be going through and getting it ready for posting! at this moment it stands at 5,600 words
Seems like they thoroughly enjoyed this chapter!! Hope you're all excited to read it!
It's just really funny to think that Kaboodle is a try-hard "keep it cool" robot who doesn't realize you already have respect for him. Doesn't matter your backstory, you're incredibly thankful for him, and Kit, for having you on the team and teaching you the ropes.
Kaboodle slowly grows on to you, but he also has that fear of losing you too, so he tries to act like he's only doing this so you don't "look like an stupid baby bird who's falling out the nest". He's attached to your hip (shoulder) when he's knows Kit will be safe on her own and when he's not assigned to watch anyone else. No matter what, he's gonna encourage you to get stronger and learn moves.
"Hell, I'll be generous. If you can complete that task, we'll make a super move. Just for the two of us."
Dare I call that obvious symbolism on wanting to be closer than ever.
He does not admit at all, nor will he EVER, but it's safe to say that Gobbles and Kit figure it out overtime (Flappers isn't that smart 😭 he has to be told. And that isn't a good idea because he would absolutely tell you on accident). Even then, Kaboodle is in denial of his feelings because he doesn't want your hypothetical death of affect him and the others.
There's nothing going on between you and him, you're just on a higher pedestal below Kit.
Hello!! I absolutely LOVE motm mugman its unreal, anyways, could I request a one-shot of mugman x gn reader where the whole gang (bendy, boris, cuphead, you get the point) are on some sort of side mission that has to do with the map where it involves needing to distract a crowd of people in like a speakeasy or something, and the reader takes up that role and gets all dressed up to be a stage singer, mugman has NEVER seen them dress up, and while the reader is onstage hes just so mesmerized by them he nearly forgets about the mission at hand. I just wanna see that man all dumbfounded and speechless hes so cute.
Obviously you don't have to do this but I decided to take my chance ig :pp thank you for your time!!
642 Ways ✦ MOTM!Mugman
𖦹—Alright, you're gonna be singing *looks at clipboard* Fight Song on stage while wearing an outfit with at least ONE stripped pattern. Maybe with combat boots if I'm feeling generous /j
642 Ways by Seycara
Mugman/Reader || MOTM Cast & Reader || No Warnings unless Reader singing counts as a heads up ||
"Glad we were able to get in. I doubt we'd be given entry with average status." Shelly says as she weaves through the red curtains.
Cuphead pauses and parts a path for Shelly, allowing her and Pebble to follow through. "Not all of our connections are out for our heads. Some of 'em owe us favors."
"More so out of force than a friendly solid," Mugman corrects. "But yeah, it did us some good at times."
"Not all the time."
"Oh, I wonder why." Bendy tuts.
"Speaking of, thanks for getting us in, [Name]." Cuphead continues.
"No problem. You guys are lucky we're on good terms." You nod at a guard. He nods back before opening the door, allowing you and the group to enter.
"And why's that?" Shelly asks.
You ignored the question, keeping focus on the task at hand.
"Dude!" You and Mugman's voice overlap, equally scolding the porcelain cup.
"You're in a romantic relationship with one of the Collectors?" Boris' eyebrows raise up. "Geez, hats off to you."
"To be fair, I was one of the clients they were after at one point—"
"Wait—"
"—but that's a story for another day. Mug's and I are good now."
Bendy snorts. "'Mugs'."
Mugman just sighs.
"Don't be mean, it's cute." Shelly says.
Cuphead crashes into you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "We really appreciate it. Remind us to get you a drink once we're done."
"Please... I can't handle a single bottle of Moonshine. Not again." You shiver, making the man bark a laugh as he falls back into the line. Just as he does, Mugman swaps places with him, his hand lightly squeezes your arm and keeps hold.
"I'm sorry we're risking your work hours for this map and all. We'll be out of your hair in no time."
"Hey, no, it's fine. I know this kind of thing is important to all of you. If this risks my job, then so be it. I can always find another." You look at Mugman with a glint in your eye, "Don't worry, I'll rob this place of its booze and give it to you and your brother if I do."
Mugman rolls his eyes while Cuphead chuckles.
All of you pause as you reach the end of the hallway, standing behind a large curtain with a sign reading "BACKSTAGE".
"We should be able to pass through here and make it to the other side..." You carefully part the curtain to check. The stage was in full view and you're able to see the patrons sitting at their tables and talking. You curse under your breath when you see a group of musicians beginning to prepare their notes and instruments.
As if it couldn't get any worse, you see a familiar figure in the crowd, and you nearly choke, forcing yourself to fall back and shut the curtains back in place. "Oh, shit."
Boris' ears lift up in alert. "What is it?"
"Kinger's in the crowd."
"KINGER?" The Cupbros echo.
"They did say it was a high end bar..." Boris reminds the group.
"Talk about rolling in dough." Bendy leans his body forward to catch a glimpse.
Your torso instantly covers his vision. "Keep the chirping on the down low—word gets around fast. If they find out you're here, we're done for."
BARK!
"PEBBLES!" You all press a finger to your lips and hush at him. The dog continues to bark at a specific direction. While the rest of you attempt to shush the dog, Shelly takes notice and looks in the direction he was barking in. A shadow was making its way towards the hallway, making her jolt and pick the animal up.
"Someone's heading this way." She warns.
You take hold of her wrist and drag her in your direction. The rest of the team follow behind you two, making your way to a wide hallway full of props and lines of costumes.
"Did we just walk into a Halloween store?" Cuphead glances at the paint buckets sitting on the floor.
"We get special guests here to perform at the club. They sing, do there thing. Sometimes they allow reenactments of old times, like The Chain Gang." You say.
"Was Mickey there?"
"HA! That would've been funny. But no, it was some guy as a stand in."
You let go of Shelly and walk over to a rack of clothes on hangers, take hold of a pair, and walk back to the group, handing the clothes to each of them, "Put these on. They should be good enough to keep you mixed with the crowd. You'll be able to pass by the tables and make your way to the other side of the building. Tell the guard I permit entry."
"Just like that? No secret password?" Mugman questions. "Seems too easy."
"We're trained to know everyone's names here, Mugman. You make a name up on the spot without luck on your side and you'll get the boot."
Your ears pick up voices down the hall. You quickly huddle the group and practically toss them to a wall before cluttering an array of hanging clothes to keep them hidden.
"Keep quiet." You demanded. You walk towards another set of clothes and pretend to be eyeing the row as the shadow grows closer.
A woman appears with a crowd of workers behind her, clipboard in hand and snapping her painted nails. "We start in a few minutes, people! Few minutes!"
"It's-It's only in thirty!" a man squirmed.
"Well, it may as well be a few! Time flies by like WOOSH!" She swipes her arm above her clipboard, "So make haste!"
"YES MA'AM!"
Talk about running a tight ship, You thought. Red nails snap at your face.
"Hey, you. What are ya doin' here? This is makeup and props—why are we standing around like a duckling, pumpkin?"
You shut the clothes like a curtain to hide the group's faces. "Oh, me? Well," You laugh a little too loud. "Ah! Well, you see, uh—I-I'm the singer for the next bit!"
The makeup artist stares at you. You feel yourself sweat and fight the urge to knock her out. She then smacks her palm with urgency. "Well, we aren't here to watch paint dry! Get your behind in this room and let's get you set up!" She gets behind you and forcibly pushes you into the room.
You're immediately sat onto a chair in front of a bright-bulbed mirror. You see the artist lean out the door yelling, "WE NEED AN OUTFIT, STAT!" She looks at you over her shoulder, "What kinda style and color palette do you like?"
You jolt at the question and give her a quick answer.
"HOPE YOU HEARD WHAT THEY WANTED! IT BETTER BE HERE IN FIVE MINUTES OR I'M MAKING A FUSS!" She shuts the door and adjusts her bangs, making her way back to you and begins to set up her workspace.
"S-So how long will this—"
She pinches your cheek and pulls. "Oh sweetiepie, there's no need to worry. With what you described, I'll have the vision to work with. Now, until my team returns with your outfit," She reveals makeup brushes between her knuckles like wolverine claws, "Let's turn you into a work of art!"
In order to view the crowd and stage, the group had to sit beside each other in separate tables. Cuphead, Mugman, and Bendy sat in a semi-circle at their round table with Shelly and Boris sitting at their own.
Mugman was five seconds from tearing this itchy scarf. His fingers had gone from massaging to pushing the material around his neck, almost on the verge of piercing a hole through it. If it weren't for his worry for you, he'd be complaining about the disguise by now.
"[Name]'s been gone for a while." Mugman says.
"Whatever they're doing, it's clearly working." Boris responds. "It's only been a few hours. No one seems suspicious of us or anything/ Just relax."
"And for the love of everything, stop bouncing that leg," Bendy presses his foot above Mugman's. "It sounds like a jackhammer."
Shelly places a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, the other gesturing to Mugman. "Mugs is anxious, cut him some slack."
"Can we not use that nickname on me at the moment?"
"Sorry."
"That means we can use it once we head out." Cuphead cackles lowly, the Ink Demon joining in the teasing.
The band in front of them ends their song. The audience claps, low whistles cheering their performance.
Boris leans close to Shelly. "Kinger's sitting near the front. We can wait for the crowd to pay attention to the show for a few minutes and carefully back out without catching much attention."
"So it's just free shows until the crowd is entranced?" She asks.
"Basically..." He confirms.
It wasn't as if the shows were boring, all of them were fine in their respective right, but...
this was a waste of time.
Cuphead's groans are deafened from the clapping. "[Name], where the hell are you?"
"Why has that lady been staring at us after every show, damnit!?" Bendy hisses to the group. The lady in question squints at the group as the crowd continues to clap.
Mugman lowers his face into the scarf. "I doubt we look too fancy. She probably thinks we look tacky."
"Mothball." Bendy whispers.
"Bendy." Boris scolds.
"Ladies and gentlemen," The announcer's voice amplified through the speakers. "Put your hands together for out next group of performers!"
Boris sighs. "Here's hoping [Name]'s involved."
"Hell—I'll even pray." Bendy mocked.
Mugman continues to thumb the scarf around his neck. It takes his brother putting a hand on his shoulder to stop.
"Your partner isn't gonna let anything happen to them. They're familiar with what we do. You really think they wouldn't prepare for something like this?" Mugman drops the scarf in his hold and shakes his head. Cuphead gives him a hearty pat before looking back to the stage.
The red curtains fold open, revealing the band casted in orange light in the background. The moment the spotlight turns on, there's a split moment where you expressed discomfort of the crowd before plastering a smile. Mugman feels the air force its way out of him the moment you spot him, your smile softening at the sight of him at the table. All of his previous worries washed away in an instant. You wrap your hand around the mic stand to adjust to your height, slowly inhaling and exhaling.
The smoothness of the piano begins to play along strings and a clarinet. A faint sound of a snare being tapped by a brush drumstick.
There's lilies,
that are flying,
in the sky when I dreamt of you.
I was sleeping,
ever soundly,
by your side oh my sweet, sweet, honeydew.
"Since when could you do that?" Cuphead pondered under his breath. "Could make some good money with that."
When moons start to change,
and seasons fade,
I'll always be true,
and thinking of you it makes my heart stand still.
Whenever I feel,
that I am so lonely,
I always know and always knew,
There are six hundred, and forty two ways that I love you.
"Oh, my gosh—look at Mugman." Shelly giggled. She tugs at the fabric of his jacket, making him look over.
He stared up at the stage with hearts in his eyes. The shine wasn't from the light alone, but from you. The colors mixed just right, making you look more bolder and confident than ever, and the makeup was done in a way that made it feel like you were born for the look.
When days are too tough, and life gets too rough,
there's only one thing, that I need,
It's when you are holding me close.
Oo~
Never has he seen you dressed to the nines—clothes he would only see through the windows of expensive shops—but this view was better than any he had seen. To him, you were a missing model, an artifact he had the chance of holding. How lucky he felt to be yours. He'd be willing to watch his heart melt in your hands.
Meanwhile, Boris looks around the room; everyone, even the staring elderly woman, was looking at the stage. Kinger sat upright, leaning in to whisper to the patron beside him.
"Everyone's distracted. We have an opening." He says as he gets up from his seat. Everyone else carefully rises from their seat while Mugman continues to remain still.
"Mugs. Stop dawdling and c'mon!" Bendy takes hold of his wrist and tries to pull him. His attempt fails. Mugman was glued to the chair, eyes never leaving the stage.
"Oh, geez." Boris places his hand over his muzzle.
"Mugman, this is really sweet of you, but we have to go!" Shelly politely reminds. Her natural smile became tight and her fingers curled over one another, squeezing her hands together.
"Oh, for the love of," Cuphead swears under his breath and smacks his brother upside the head.
"OW! What the—!?" Cuphead slaps his hand over Mugman's mouth.
"Hey, lover. Need I remind you we're on a mission involving the map?" Cuphead whispers irritably. He takes hold of Mugman's scarf and pulls him back with the rest of the group. "Save the googoo eyes for after the show." Followed by a harsh shove to the front of the toons.
When days are too tough, and life gets too rough,
there only one thing, that I need,
it's when you are holding me close...
Mugman readjusts the scarf around his neck and presses on. The group follows behind, getting a quick glance at you performing before walking again. Before Shelly leaves the table, she quickly turns to duck down at Pebble and snaps her fingers.
"Pebble, sit and guard." She commands. She lifts the table cloth and allows him to get under.
The animal immediately sits down, slurping his tongue back into his mouth before panting.
"Good boy." She praises, quickly jogging back to the group, listening to the sound of your voice fade into the background.
It's when you are holding me close... to you~
𖦹—Take a shot every time I mention my love for yearning in my posts. I like writing long posts like these, but at the cost of taking so long because it's long. Uh... weesnaw
Laying on your backside on the bed, your eyes find their way towards the small window in your room. Although there wasn’t much to see, the blurred circles of the city’s distant lights mixed with moonlight entranced you (despite the fact you should have been asleep a long time ago). You bring up your hand to cover your vision in a loose attempt to get rest.
“I thought you'd be knocked out at this hour.” A voice slightly echoes in your ears. Your hand removes itself from your face to view the stupid popcorn ceiling. A portal had been punched through with the Six-Eared Macaque as its source. Half of his body was protruding from the black vortex, and his head tilted to look you in the eyes with a smile.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You said.
“That makes two of us.” He shrugs as his body falls out the portal, arms folded behind his torso, perfectly landing on his feet next to your bed. He looks down at you. “Then again, I knew you'd be awake.”
“And how would you know that?”
He stares. “Do people forget about the ‘Six-Eared’ part of my name?”
“My mistake.”
"Good, now move." He removes scarf and drops it on the floor (rude), summoning a portal under his feet to reappear behind your body, laying on his right side. He adjusts himself in your bedsheets and shuts his eyes.
You turn on your left side to face him. "Come to think of it, I've never seen you with six ears the entire time I've known you."
He reopens his eyes. "So?"
"So, are you willing to show me."
"Nah, not tonight."
"No. Tonight."
Macaque ignores you in favor of sleep. He's only allowed to keep still for two minutes before sneering, opening his eyes to the person responsible for his suspicions. You were on the verge of hovering over his face, tired eyes continuing to stare him down in the dark.
"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" He asks.
"I'm willing to stay up if that's what it takes"
"Okay, okay. I'll satisfy your curiosity." He playfully pushes you with enough strength to fall back onto the bed. The both of you sit up and face each other. Macaque closes his eyes and slowly breathes in, holding his breath as a purple aura engulfs him, shadowing his frame. It immediately dissipates from his form, and you're able to see Macaque for who he truly is.
Two new ears sprouted on both sides of his head with one pair above and below the original set. The inside of his ears now had color to them, a lightly glowing purple that reflected on your skin. The right side of his face had a scar that ran from his cheek, through his partially opened eye, to a part of his eyebrow. Opening the eye revealed the grey-ish-blue iris that was hidden away.
Your hands gently rub the outer shells of his ears, causing them to twitch. You almost let out a sound of awe before he gave a glare. Guess that kind of reaction was put off the table. You reel your hands back as a sign of peace. Macaque audibly sighs, shuts his eyes, and nods at you again, allowing you to bring your hands back to his ears. Your thumbs rest on the lobe of his ear, swiping up to his helix.
Such appendages weren’t something to scoff at. You couldn’t imagine yourself being given a legendary named after such features; not that it seemed insulting—you truly thought it was an amazing gift despite its negative effects of overwhelming sound—but the ability to know all the events of the past, present, and future was both enthralling and terrific.
“You look like you have a lot of questions.” Macaqued interrupts your thinking process.
“I do.”
“Can it wait until morning?” His jaw widens to let out a yawn. "You only wanted to know about this, and that's it." He leans away and flops on his side again.
“Can we swap places?”
“Why?”
“I wanna look at your scar for a while longer.”
He huffs. “You don’t wanna look at this thing any longer. Anyone could barely stand it.”
“And I can’t?”
“Wukong couldn’t.” He immediately looks away from you, his fist clenching into the pillow. In a flash, his glamour spell covers his scar and ears again.
"Okay, no—move." You lift yourself up from the bed and toss your leg over his body.
"What the—"
"Yep. Here we go." Your foot presses into the matress and acts as a pole to balance yourself to the other side of the bed. When you were sure that you wouldn't fall off and dive headfirst into the wall, you carefully lower yourself back down onto the sheets, and lay on your right side.
"Did you really have to do all of that?"
"Absolutely," As if you don't portal everywhere. Envy aside, you continue. "You don't need to tell me everything at the moment, but…"
You hear Macaque's tail thump under the covers. "...It's still a lot. It'd be obvious to anyone, but dying wasn't exactly fun. Being revived after all of that? I returned to the world so angry, so angry… And when I got the chance to see how looked, well, safe to say that it didn't help." He brings his hand up to his right eye, "A constant reminder to what happened to me. What Wukong and I's friendship became, and the aftermath of it all."
Your left hand finds itself over his own. “I understand if it hurts too much to be brought up, but I think it shows just how much of a fighter you are. Nobody just dies and comes back to life. It goes to show how brave you truly are.” Your hand raises to the side of his face, thumb swiping near his eye bags. You smile. “My fearless warrior. My champion…”
Macaque’s lips part for a moment before closing. His body loses tension, allowing his face to press against your pillow and, slowly, closes his eyes. The glamour slowly sifts away from his face, allowing the ears and scar to be displayed.
“There it is.” You encourage. Your fingers carefully swipe back to his six ears, sifting through the tufts of black fur on the side of his head. The moonlight’s backdrop gives him a slight glow, particles of dust flying through the air like fireflies. “You’re breathtaking like this.”
“I think you’re sleep deprived.” His ears tilt down before further pushing his face into the pillow. “Goodnight.”
He hears you laugh before falling silent.
Macaque was patient. He pretends to sleep, waiting for minutes to pass by before opening his eyes. He watches the blanket over you slowly fall up and down with your breathing, your eyelashes almost reaching the smushed portion of your cheek. Moving silently, he reaches his hand from the blanket to reach your ear. He stops his fingers from ghosting over the shell.
“Thank you, [Name].” He whispers to your sleeping figure before adjusting himself under the blanket and falls asleep.
Wukong
The Monkey King lays back on the couch with you on top of him, his fingers messing with the hairs on the nape of your neck. His nails manage to glide across your skin from time to time, a slow rhythm that would have put you to sleep had he not continued to groan about you not paying attention to him. Your soft hums were the only confirmation to give before he would continue telling his stories—glorifying his old days, praising those he had met throughout his time as an immortal being.
“Oh, you should’ve seen me, Peaches,” He sighed dopily. “I was beating baddies left and right—they didn’t have an OUNCE of courage like I did back then!”
One of your eyes open up to glance at him. “‘Back then’? You seem pretty confident now though.”
His other hand rubs the back of his neck. “Ahh, I mean, I’m still pretty confident to this day. It’s not that I don’t think I’m not cool, It’s more of a physical thing, y’know?”
You don’t.
“I don’t.” You said.
Wukong visibly cringes to himself. He keeps his hold on you, then adjusts himself to lay his upper back on the arm of the couch. “You know when people like to talk about the scars they get after accidents or battles, that kind of thing? When you live as long as me, you learn a thing or two to keep them hidden from anyone who could identify you from them. You get used to it.”
Ah, so it's an insecurity thing. You rub the fabric of his shirt with your pointer and thumb. “I feel like there’s more to it than what you’re telling me.”
“NO!” He denies a bit too loudly. You blink once and he immediately cracks. “Mmmmmyes, maybe.”
You lift yourself by your elbow to support your upper body. “Not to sound intrusive, but I’ve seen your body, like, multiple times and never seen a single scar on your figure.”
Wukong’s tail flickers behind him before he sighs, body physically deflating. “I hate the fact that you’re so analytical.”
“Being analytical is what kept me standing for so long. Now enlighten me. How have you been hiding these scars from me?”
“Can you back up?” His eyes look away from you before coming back. You scoot back to the other side of the couch to give him room. Once you do, he changes into a kneeling position and takes off his shirt. Setting the fabric on the couch, he places his hands on his knees and shuts his eyes.
A faint, golden glow begins to encase his entire body, wisps circling from the couch to the top of his head before dissipating. As soon as you find yourself entranced by the light, it quickly fades away, leaving you to stare at Wukong again.
Wukong still kneels in front of you, his torso now covered in various scars that have yet to grown fur. Jags of faded pink and beige are scattered. Some of these scars were more gnarlier than others—faint with fur having grown enough to cover them, but by a short amount—making you frown at the sight. Wukong notices. He uses his tail to curl over the more violent scarring.
"You don't have to make this weird. This wouldn't be your first time." He coyly deflects, blinking his eyelashes rapidly. He falters a little when he doesn't get the expected reaction out of you.
You come to, eyes now directed to his own. "I'm- I'm sorry, I just didn't realize there was so many."
"Oh yeah, so many," He then uses his hand to lift a tuft of fur near his stomach, revealing a patch of skin beginning to scab over. "MK and I trained last week. The kid got a good hit on me with his staff and I scrapped by a pile of rocks when I landed. He was handing apologies a million miles a second."
You let out a weak chuckle at that. Not that it wasn't funny—just that the fact these scars had been covered by Wukong of all people. You never knew this was something he was ashamed of. Was it really shame? Insecurity, sure, but never shame. No, wait, that's literally the same thing.
"I never thought you'd use glamour." You said.
"Bah, yeah… I never thought I would, either." Wukong agreed.
"Then, why? Again, you're usually so confident about who you are."
"You really wanna know, huh?"
"Of course."
He pursed his lip for a moment. "My past. Really, I think everyone knows that my past was a trainwreck when there wasn't anything cool to do or enemies to punch. I don't regret what I did at all, I regret some of the people I've fought that led to these scars existing. I did a lot more stuff than I'd like to admit." He looks down at his torso. "Turns out I wasn't exactly a great friend back then."
“Wukong, you have no reason to feel that way with me,” You said, gliding your palm up to the middle of his chest, “In no way would I want to make you feel like you have to hide your past from me. If anything, I’m happy you’re a better person, and that you have enough trust to show me this.” You place your hand where his heart laid. The moment you do, you feel his heart begin to beat faster.
Wukong moves his head away, face beginning to redden. “You don’t just say stuff like that, Peaches!”
“Has the Monkey King been thwarted by kindness?” You laugh. “I should do this more often.”
“No, no, nooo, you don’t have to do all of that, please.” He “bashfully” waves his hand up and down. “Okay, maybe for just a while longer. C’mon, keep ‘em comin’!”
You erupted into laughter, feeling Wukong's hand reaching to lay over the one you placed on his chest as he admired you.
You lay back on his torso again. "If it makes you feel any better, I'd say you've improved from your old self. At least you didn't run away from serious conversations involving your feelings."
Wukong feels an imaginary arrow pierce through him, face now burning in embarrassment. "Yeahh… I still need to improve on that. Sorry."
𖦹—*Cinderblock sliding sfx* Heeeyyyyyy... what's upppp... it's meeeee /ref
I'm on summer break, so I am freedom for now. Apologies if my writing seems off, it's been a hot minute since I had completed something. Requests will be opened soon
I wasn't 100% sure if mumbo's design changed after the last chapter but I went ahead and made him whatever grian is<3 also not sure if midas the dude works like that but ¯\_ (ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯
For now, this page is for those who wish to support me or request a sketch commission. Future writing commissions will be planned out, as well as fully colored art and more.
My DOs and DONTs list is pinned and my TOS is established before continuing with a purchase. For now, 4 slots are available to fit my schedule. Do not feel pressured to tip or request!
