#Whatever. At least it means some sense is there

[lovscb97]

— stray kids links [hyung line]

tags: hyung line!stray kids x fem!reader, established relationship, rough sex, unprotected sex (plz wrap it before u tap it), creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, mild dacryphilia, begging, use of collars/leashes, spanking, strength kink, oral sex (f. receiving), squirting, car sex, slight exhibitionism, slight choking, use of nicknames (baby, princess, angel, kitten, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, etc

wc: 2.73k

add. notes: hai …. sorry i made this post instead of giving u guys nerd!chan pt. 2 I FUCKIN SWEAR IT’S COMING but it’s just taking the piss out of me n i needed this out for a new post. anyways plz dni if u r a minor like i mean that w my whole chest n also lmk if some of the links stop working or if u can’t see them idk what i can do abt that . but at least i will be aware LMFAOOOOO yea anyways enjoy :3

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⥽ … BANG CHAN: 

link one.

chan is packing. he is absolutely packing to the point you felt like he was going to tear your womb apart when you first got intimate with him, his thick cock stretching you out past your limits as fresh sobs fell from your mouth. since then, he's trained you to take him with enough prep, always making sure to milk at least two orgasms from you before he even thinks about letting his dick near your pussy regardless of how hard it might be throbbing. that wait becomes worthwhile though when he finally sinks inside of you, dirty words and throaty groans rambled in your ear as he releases himself deep inside once he's reached his peak. he loves the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in, never leaving you alone until he's dumped his load empty.

"fuck, baby. how are you so tight?" chan hisses incredulously, wet thumb still circling your clit as you shake in his hold. you're extremely sensitive at this point, twitching from the slightest touch after having cum for the third time, but the only thing in your mind right now is your boyfriend breeding you, the request made obvious with how you tighten your legs around his waist to pull him in. "cum in me, daddy. please!" you plead, teary eyes blinking up at chan whose orbs roll to the back of his head at your keen expression. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's shooting ropes of hot cum inside you, gripping himself to ensure he stays in place. you sigh in content at the warm liquid flooding you, and chan just smiles tiredly, leaning in to sweetly kiss you. "i love you, precious girl." he whispers, resting his body on top of you to keep you plugged up for the rest of the night.

link two.

you're chan's favourite destress toy, that much is obvious. every time he comes home from a long day at work, he knows it'll be worthwhile because you'll be there waiting with open arms and your wet hole longing to be filled up. he'll even take you right then and there in the living room sometimes, making sure everyone around you two knows exactly whose name you're screaming. certain days when he's had it particularly bad though, he'll collar you up and attach a leash to it that he can pull back on, bending you over with your ass up in the air as he slams himself into you repeatedly. it gives him immense pride to have that sense of control over you, to be able to manoeuvre you into whatever position he desires. if he's feeling especially mean, he'll edge you until you're crying into the sheets, cooing at how fucked out you look, knowing he's the only one who can make you feel that way.

"please.. i wan' cum, please." you slur out mindlessly, drool dripping down your mouth as chan slowly drags his cock in and out of you, its mushroom tip pressing deliciously against that spot inside. your boyfriend just chuckles from behind you, his hand yanking on the leash that's tied to your collar which makes you lean back in an instant. his hand sneaks down to grip himself as he pulls out for the nth time, and you whine at the loss of fullness in you, bottom lip jutting out as he slaps the head of his cock against your clit. "yeah, princess? you wanna cum? wanna cum all over daddy's dick?" he mocks you, laughing sadistically when you desperately nod your head. he continues to rub up your little nub, and you're soon about to fall over the edge, gratitude on your lips when he suddenly stops. "oh, baby, you're not cumming that easily tonight." chan growls, causing you to shiver under his hold as he pushes you back onto the bed. it looks like you're in for a long night.

⥽ … LEE MINHO: 

link one.

you love pissing minho off. it's one of the little things in life that gives you so much pleasure, aside from when your boyfriend fucks you, of course. minho, on the other hand, doesn't take lightly to your teasing at all. on days where you're acting out by wearing revealing clothes in front of his friends or sitting too close to one of them for his liking, he'll drag you out with some lame excuse and a clenched jaw, mumbling something about how you're both going home now. he doesn't even care that you're probably smug by the end of it, because that feeling of triumph soon dissipates when he has you bent over his lap, veiny hands kneading the plush of your ass before he's landing a harsh smack on it. he'll spank you and make you count your punishment, and if you lose track, he'll just have to start all over again.

"fucking slut." minho tsk's, cold fingers running themselves against the bruised skin of your butt. he takes a moment to admire his work, tracing the red imprints of his hand on your ass and even the outline of your white panties, which are absolutely soaked by now. "min, please! 'm sorry, it won't happen again." you cry out, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes although you can't see it. another series of repeated spanks land on you, and you yelp in response, legs kicking up from the stinging impact. your body burns by now, every touch minho provides it leaving behind a searing sensation, but you know your boyfriend is far from done with you. "we both know that's a damn lie." he clicks his tongue. "you're always acting out, so it seems like i gotta really start putting you in your place, hm?" you're about to protest when he smacks again, drawing a sob from you; the sound goes straight to his core. he licks his lips, a smirk stretched across them as he readies his palm once more. "now, stop crying and start counting, whore."

link two.

it's no secret that minho is a certified ass man. he loves you, but god does he love your ass just as much. everything about it sends him reeling, from the way it's accentuated in the clothes you wear, to the plump flesh of it that jiggles every time he's got you on your hands and knees. you'd argue he puts you in this position at least once every time you two fuck because knowing your boyfriend, he just wants to watch the way you push back on him when he's bottomed out inside you. he'll give you a few smacks here and there on it too, kneading the skin in his palms before he's snapping his hips into yours. most of the time, he'll refuse to cum inside of you, instead pulling out just before he tips over the edge to release all over your behind and back. you're not complaining though, you love the feeling of his seed dripping over it just as much as he does.

"mm, shit, you look so good right now, kitten." minho groans from behind you, cockhead practically battering your cervix with the way he's shoving himself in and out of you. your whines are high in pitch with how he's fucking you, and you stutter to speak when you try and respond. "y-you say that every time." you eventually manage to heave out, and minho chuckles breathlessly, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass in them as he bites his lip, moaning lowly at the way it bounces back against his dick. "can't help it. you're too hot." he grunts, pistoning his hips at a frenzied pace that knocks the breath out of your lungs. it only takes a matter of minutes before you're both cumming, loud noises filling the room as minho pulls out just in time so he can splatter his release all over your backside. his thumb dips into the seed that now decorates your ass, and he swipes to collect it, pushing it into your mouth. a grin decorates his face as you suck on it. "atta girl."

⥽ … SEO CHANGBIN: 

link one.

changbin is a gym fanatic through and through, and with his rigorous work out routine eventually came his well-built physique, chiselled and bulked up to the point you think you would barely recognise his past self. it refects in the way he walks, talks and holds himself; he loves his strength and he loves showing it off, especially to you. that's why every time you're both entangled in his sheets, it results in him urging you to stand up before hoisting you in his arms. some days he'll hold you in them and bounce you up and down his cock, relishing in the way your cries echo through the room alongside the slapping of skin. other days, he'll toss you around and headlock you as he pounds you from behind, groaning filth in your ear as he pushes you to the edge of tipping. either way, you love what he does, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"hng, so strong, binnie!" you wail, hands clutching your boyfriend's broad back and shoulders as your nails dig into his soft skin, sure to leave marks the next day. changbin just grunts at your sounds of pleasure, too immersed in fucking you onto his cock in your current position. he's got you clinging onto him for dear life as he enters you repeatedly, pride blooming in his chest when you acknowledge how hot it is that he can pick you up so effortlessly. "y-yeah, pretty? like when binnie fucks you like this?" he stutters slightly, too wrapped up in how your pussy clings to his girth. you nod your head rapidly, babbling about how close you are and how hard you're going to cum, spraying all over your boyfriend in due time when he slams into that spot hidden inside you. you're not even given a chance to recover afterwards, changbin manhandling you onto the bed on your stomach before he's sinking back inside. "just a little more, baby. binnie's gotta cum too, okay?" he's whining, and you keen despite the sting of overstimulation rushing through, not knowing you're going to end up letting him use you for another hour.

link two.

you've always known changbin is a romantic at heart, his soft-spoken nature despite the daunting aura he gives off due to his frame often sending your brain spiralling. it gives you whiplash, the way he treats you. some days he'll fuck you like he hates you, growling dirty comments to your face and spitting in your mouth as you shake through an orgasm. other days, however, he'll craddle you in his arms, caging your body underneath him as he rocks his hips against yours in deep, fluid motions. one of his favourite things to do during these instances is hold your hand. he loves the feeling of your fingers lacing through his, holding onto him as he delivers sharp strokes inside of you. something about it feels so raw, like both your souls are intertwined in one big hug. he'll kiss you dizzy, burying his face into your neck as you both whimper 'i love you's' to each other.

"baby.. fuck, baby." changbin moans, his breath fanning hot against the sticky skin of your shoulder from where he's nosed himself in. his hand clings to yours amidst his movements, and you mewl loudly when he thrusts particularly deep inside of you. "i love you. love you so much, my baby. my pretty, perfect angel." your boyfriend pants, head moving to bring his lips to yours in a messy meeting. it's filled with so much love and care, your mouths moulding perfectly against one another's as you exchange kisses. your stomach feels like it's filled with butterflies, but you're not sure if that's because of how fucking in love you are with him or because of changbin rocking his hips into you. either way, you pull apart from him, trying to say it back in the middle of your noises of pleasure. "l-love you so much, binnie. fuck, you always give it to me so good." you praise, and changbin visibly shivers, burying his face back where it was between your neck to continue making love to you until at last, you're both coming undone together.

⥽ … HWANG HYUNJIN: 

link one.

one thing you adore about your precious lover boy is his mouth. his pretty, plump lips that kiss your tears away, or his dangerously addictive tongue that's always finding it's way between your thighs when he feels like it, which is basically all the time. hyunjin can't help that you taste so sweet, or how you're always so perfectly wet for him by the time he's journeyed down to your legs where you truly need him. he'll spend hours buried between them, parting you with his slender fingers and holding you open for him to lick into. he finds extreme satisfaction in the way you push back against his body when he's having a go at you, too weak to move him in your futile efforts of running away from his mouth once he's had you cum twice without stopping. he'll continue anyways though, because to him, there's no better treat after a long day.

"hyunie, s-slow down." you whimper, the lewd suckling sounds of your clit being wrapped in your boyfriend's mouth resonating through the room as he messily eats you out. his movements are filled with fervour and desperation, something you'll never get used to experiencing despite how long you've been together. each time almost always feels like you're starring in some obscene porno with the way hyunjin always drawls out the most nasty sounds from you. this instance is no different either, because before you can even react, you're spraying droplets of clear liquid on his face, your boyfriend groaning into you at the feeling of you squirting on him. he cleans it all up with great pleasure, breathing heavily as he finally rises from his position to slot himself between your legs. his lips find yours in a dirty kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. "you're insatiable." you murmur when he pulls away, and hyunjin chuckles, mouth hovering over your jaw as you tremble at his next words. "not my fault my baby's got the tastiest cunt in the world."

link two.

hyunjin is a freak through and through. you've known for a while that he gets off on all sorts of things, and one of them is primarily the risk of being sneaky in public, regardless if it's planned or not. there have been one too many occasions of the latter where you've both been out on a date together with you looking a little too good, too good to the point that the waiter starts flirting with you and leaving hyunjin seething. it's only high time after that until he's dragging you out of the restaurant and into his backseat, too lazy to even undress properly before he's sinking inside of you to fuck you as he sees red. he'll get so possessive too, groaning how you're his and his only whilst pulling you back by your hair. it's true that your boyfriend is a big lover, but when times come down to this, he'll drill into you like he absolutely loathes you.

"dirty slut, letting me fuck you where anyone can see. you'd even let that server find you like this, wouldn't you?" hyunjin grits out, his sweat dripping onto your back as he shoves his long length in you. you're sure the windows are fogged up by now, his car rocking with his movements, but neither of you care about that. "n-no, only want you to see. just you, hyune." you whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his cock slams in you with each thrust. your boyfriend lets out a low moan at your words, yanking you back by your hair to lick at your neck. "that's right, princess. only i get to look at this pussy, hm? only i can f-fuck it right, yeah?" he grunts, slender fingers coming up to wrap around your throat as you nod shakily, taking a deep breath as hyunjin squeezes slightly. "gonna cum in this cunt and fill you up with my babies so everyone knows who you belong to. then, i'm taking you straight home to fuck you full again. got that?"

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[aisiedaisie]

hiiii ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ i just found your page this morning and read through your entire masterlist and i loveeee your writing! is it possible to get royal poly!marauders at a ball or something and they catch sight of the reader (can be whatever role you wanna give them) and they are like 'damn'

Hello hello~!!!

First of all, thank you so much for patiently waiting for me to get to your request. Life has been pretty hectic on my end, so writing had to take a back seat for a little while. But today, I finally had some time to sit down and write!

Now, let me just say— this idea is absolutely amazing! I’m completely in love with royal and historical AUs, so there’s a good chance I’ll revisit this concept and or turn it into a series of drabbles. (Not that I’m particularly skilled at keeping things short!!!)

I really hope you enjoy my take on your idea 💖

edit: I got a bit carried away-

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader WC: 3.7k

The night after the neighboring kingdom’s delegation arrives, the Griffyn Kingdom buzzes with anticipation. To honor their esteemed guests— especially the visiting princess —the King and Queen have announced a grand ball. This celebration is more than an act of hospitality; it is a shining declaration of unity, a glittering prelude to alliances and promises that will shape their shared future.

You find yourself standing in Princess Lily’s chambers, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows against the ornate walls.

 Before you, Lily examines herself in a floor-length mirror, her emerald-green gown a masterpiece of silk and embroidery. You and Mary fuss over the gathered fabric at her hips, smoothing it into place with careful precision.

“I can manage the rest,” Lily murmurs, her voice gentle but decisive. She steps away, gliding toward the gilded jewelry box on her dressing table. Its lid is open, revealing an array of jewels she brought for the journey— diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires glittering alongside an assortment of tiaras.

“You two should get ready as well,” she adds, her tone as light as the shimmering necklace she picks up, its facets catching the firelight.

You pause, caught off guard. “What?” The word escapes before you can stop yourself.

Normally, Marlene would stand guard in her knightly uniform, Mary would accompany Lily throughout the event, and you would remain behind— content to watch the festivities from a quiet corner of the castle, keeping a vigilant eye on the princess’s chambers.

“There’s no need for that tonight,” Mary says, her voice warm with reassurance. She steps forward, deftly fastening the diamond necklace around Lily’s neck. The glittering stones resting perfectly against the princess’s pale freckled skin. “We’re on excellent terms with the Potters. No one here will mean us harm.”

The words hang in the air, both an assurance and an invitation. Tonight is different, you realize. 

A diamond tiara rests atop Lily’s head, its intricate design sparkling like a constellation of stars nestled in her fiery red locks. She adjusts it briefly, her reflection regal and resplendent. “You rarely get a chance to enjoy yourself during visits like this,” she says softly, her tone kind but firm. “Go on, get ready.”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips, touched by Lily’s thoughtfulness. Her generosity warms you in a way words could never fully express.

With her gentle urging, you retreat to your own room to prepare. A quick bath washes away the lingering weariness of the day, and you do your best to ready yourself for the night ahead.

Despite your efforts, a sense of inadequacy lingers. 

For such grand occasions, it’s expected that the lady's maids and companions are impeccably dressed, each carrying at least one formal gown for travels like these. 

You do have such a dress— a blush colored piece gifted to you by your mother when you first joined the palace as Lily’s lady’s maid.

The fabric clings just a little too tightly at the waist, its once flawless seams now strained from years of careful reuse. The soft blush color, though elegant, has faded slightly with time, its original vibrancy dulled by repeated wear. The bodice is adorned with modest embroidery— delicate vines and blossoms stitched in pale gold thread that catches the light just enough to hint at refinement. The skirt, while gracefully cut, feels heavier than you remember, its weight pulling at your movements as if to remind you of the weight of high society.

It was the best your family could afford when you first came to the palace— a gift from your mother, its fabric chosen to honor both simplicity and a touch of nobility. Back then, it had been a symbol of hope, a token of pride for a baroness’s daughter stepping into the royal household. 

Now, however, standing before the mirror, you can’t help but feel its inadequacy in the face of tonight’s grandeur.

Even so, you smooth the skirt with steady hands, letting your fingers trace the faint ridges of the embroidery. This night, you remind yourself, is not about the richness of your gown, but the confidence you bring and the memories you make. 

Perfection may elude you, but presence—your presence—is more than enough.

When you step back into Lily’s chambers, it’s clear everyone is ready to go. Lily, as expected, looks effortlessly regal in her emerald green dress, the rich color complementing her fiery red hair that cascades down her back in elegant waves. Mary, ever composed, is radiant in a soft yellow gown that perfectly flatters her figure, her dark hair neatly arranged in a low bun at the nape of her neck.

“You look darling,” Lily murmurs, stepping forward to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. Her touch is as light as her tone, her emerald eyes warm with affection.

You roll your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Says the actual goddess standing before me.”

“Truly,” Mary chimes in, her voice sweet as she adjusts the clasp of your necklace, ensuring it sits perfectly centered. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Before you can protest their kind words, a knock at the door interrupts the moment. Marlene peeks her head in, her light blonde hair swept back into a tidy low ponytail. “Ladies,” she announces with a bright grin, “it’s time to head down.”

Excitement ripples through the room as the evening’s promise beckons.

_____

You weren’t quite sure what to do once you stepped onto the crowded ballroom floor. Back home, state balls were familiar territory, their routines and customs etched into your memory. But here, in a foreign kingdom, uncertainty clouded your thoughts. 

Was the etiquette the same? 

Would it be seen as rude to linger by the walls, content to watch the swirl of color and movement before you?

Must you be drawn into the heart of the celebration?

Apparently so.

You stand near one of the grand marble pillars circling the ballroom, the cool stone a comforting anchor amidst the overwhelming splendor. A glass of white wine rests in your hand, a half-hearted shield against your unease. From the corner of your eye, you notice movement—a man approaching with easy confidence. His dark hair is tied into a loose, messy bun, strands slipping free to frame his sharp features. His attire marks him as a knight of the Griffyn Kingdom, though the smirk curling at his lips carries a roguish charm and confidence uncommon in most knights you’ve met.

“You must be part of the delegation,” he says, his voice smooth, his smirk deepening as his gray eyes fix on yours.

You hesitate, biting back the urge to fidget. He’s handsome, undeniably so, but you can’t quite place why he’s chosen to speak to you. With a soft sigh, you nod. “I am.”

“I thought so,” he replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “I remember seeing you earlier, standing just behind the little princess. So, why aren’t you out there, dancing?” He gestures toward the center of the room, where couples spin and sway beneath glittering chandeliers.

“I’m not particularly fond of dancing,” you say, your voice quieter than intended. It’s not entirely true, but you hope the excuse is convincing enough to deter him.

“Nonsense,” he says with a laugh, his hand extending toward you. “Anyone can see you want to. Prove me wrong, if you’d like.”

The invitation lingers between you, daring yet strangely kind.

You hesitate for just a moment, glancing at the glass in your hand before setting it down on the corner of the nearest table. Then, with a small breath of resolve, you place your hand in his. “Don’t get mad if my heels end up on your toes,” you quip, a touch of nervousness slipping into your tone.

“Trust me, I’m quite nimble. Dodging danger is part of the job,” he replies with an easy smirk, already guiding you toward the dance floor with a confidence that leaves little room for argument.

Normally, you might have countered with a quick remark of your own, but your mind is too distracted. The pounding of your heart fills your ears, drowning out coherent thought.

The lull in the music amplifies every other sound—the clack of your heels against the polished marble, the low hum of whispered voices as heads turn to watch you pass. The weight of their gazes burns into your skin, and your hands tremble slightly as the knight clears a path through the crowd, his presence commanding in a way that both unsettles and reassures you.

Other couples filter onto the dance floor as the musicians shuffle their sheet music, preparing for the next song. The murmurs of the room settle, anticipation hanging in the air.

“Well,” you manage, your voice soft as you cling to anything that might distract you from the dozens of eyes still following your every move, “it seems you’re rather popular.”

“What can I say?” he responds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I am rather handsome.” The smirk that accompanies his words is maddeningly self-assured.

Before you can respond, his hand presses gently against the middle of your back, drawing you closer. His other hand takes yours in a firm yet careful clasp, guiding you into the proper frame with a natural grace that makes it seem effortless. You barely notice the band striking the first notes of the song, your attention fixed on the storm gray eyes studying you with something close to intrigue.

You set your hand clumsily on his shoulder, your fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his maroon jacket. He doesn’t seem to mind your hesitation, his movements assured and steady as he begins to lead you through a simple waltz.

To your relief, the steps come naturally, your body quickly attuning to the rhythm of the music and the gentle guidance of his lead.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice soft, nearly lost beneath the rising swell of the orchestra.

You glance up at him, your voice barely above a whisper as you give your name.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he replies smoothly, his lips curving into a charming smile paired with a wink that, despite yourself, pulls a smile to your face.

“And you?” you counter, a touch of playfulness creeping into your tone. “Who might this oh-so-charming knight be standing before me?”

His eyes glint with amusement, their gray depths catching the light like polished steel. “Sirius,” he says simply, the name rolling off his tongue with a quiet confidence.

You nod thoughtfully, letting the music and his lead guide you effortlessly across the floor. “An attention grabbing star for an attention grabbing knight,” you muse aloud, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Seems fitting, I suppose.”

His laugh is low and warm, the sound wrapping around you like the melody. “Well, I do strive to live up to my name.”

“I doubt you have any trouble with that,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips as you hold his gaze.

The music begins to fade, the elegant notes giving way to the quiet hum of conversations around you. As the dance slows to a stop, you take a small step back, though his presence still lingers like the warmth of the ballroom’s golden glow.

“So much for not being a dancer,” he teases, his smirk as effortless as the steps he led you through.

You turn to him, unable to suppress your grin. “Maybe you were just that good of a lead,” you say sweetly, your voice light with sincerity. But before he can respond, you catch sight of Mary and Lily across the room.

“I ought to check in on my lady,” you add, inclining your head slightly. “Thank you for the dance, Sir Sirius—”

“Sirius,” he interrupts gently, his tone almost playful. “Just Sirius is fine.”

You nod, your smile softening as you take a small step back. “Fine, then. Thank you for the dance, Sirius. It was... unexpected, but I truly enjoyed it.”

With a final glance, you turn and make your way toward Mary and Lily, weaving through the gathered crowd. The warmth of his hand on yours still lingers faintly, and his name echoes in your thoughts like the fading strains of the music— a memory you suspect will stay with you far longer than the evening itself.

_____

James and Remus stepped out of the nearest sitting room, the faint hum of ballroom music echoing down the corridor. Remus, ever meticulous, adjusted James’s slightly askew collar, his fingers deftly hiding the newly formed love bites that marked the prince’s neck—evidence of their brief but heated absence.

“We need to get back before anyone notices,” James murmured, his voice low but tinged with amusement as he fixed his tousled hair.

Remus smirked. “We’re already late. Let’s hope Sirius hasn’t set the place on fire in our absence.”

But as they approached the ballroom’s grand entrance, what they saw made both men falter. There, on the dancefloor, Sirius Black was leading a woman in a waltz.

The sight itself was striking. Her blush colored dress stood out in gentle contrast against the bold, jewel toned gowns of the others swirling around her. The simplicity of her attire only seemed to magnify her elegance, and for once, Sirius appeared utterly focused, his usual roguishness tempered by something softer.

“Sirius never asks a woman to dance,” a sharp voice cut through the hum of the crowd. James and Remus glanced toward a cluster of women, their faces half hidden behind delicate feathered fans. The speaker, a haughty looking noblewoman, tilted her head knowingly, her words drawing murmurs of agreement from those around her.

Remus’s brows knit together. Sirius was notorious for politely but firmly declining the endless stream of invitations to dance he received at events like these. Yet, watching him now, Remus found he could understand why Sirius had sought out this particular partner.

She was... radiant.

“Well, isn’t she a sight to see,” James murmured, his voice just low enough for Remus to hear.

Remus nodded, his hazel eyes tracking the woman’s graceful movements. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s one of Princess Lily’s lady’s maids,” he said, his tone thoughtful.

James’s eyes widened slightly in recognition, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Is that so?” he drawled, the spark of an idea lighting his gaze.

Remus sighed, already sensing trouble. “What are you thinking, James?”

The prince’s grin only grew. “I think,” he said, “we should pay a visit to the princess. Seems like her lady’s maid could use some... royal introductions.”

_____

After reuniting with a gushing Mary and Lily, a server approaches, bowing their head politely before handing you a fresh glass of wine. You thank them quietly, though you can’t help but find their deference a little peculiar. Still, you accept the drink, shifting your attention back to the princess as she launches into a spirited account of your performance on the dance floor.

“You looked absolutely stunning out there,” Lily exclaims, her cheeks slightly flushed from the excitement of the evening—or perhaps the wine.

“She’s right,” Mary agrees with a hum, a bright smile lighting her face. “Everyone was watching. You two were the talk of the room.”

Both women had taken their turns dancing with high-ranking gentlemen throughout the night. Suitors vying for the honor of even a single waltz. Yet, they seemed convinced that your dance was the highlight.

“He’s quite a talented dancer for a knight,” Mary observes, taking a sip from her own glass.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I figured he’d be good, considering how confident he seemed. But he led me effortlessly. I barely had to think about the steps.”

“Well,” Lily interjects with a soft laugh, her hand fluttering to her lips as though trying to stifle her amusement, “that’s hardly surprising. He’s a noble, after all.”

“What?” Both you and Mary turn to her in confusion, the notion catching you both off guard. Nobles rarely became knights, considering the station beneath them. Sirius hardly seemed the exception, yet here you were.

“He’s the son of Duchess Black,” Lily explains with a slight grimace, lowering her voice. “Her sons are far more tolerable than she ever will be.”

“Lily!” Mary scolds, her eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard the princess’s blunt critique. Fortunately, the surrounding hum of conversation seemed to swallow the comment whole.

“But...” you trail off, your brows furrowing as you ask. “Did you not just dance with the heir to the duchy?”

“That would be my younger brother,” a smooth, familiar voice cuts into the conversation, making you turn sharply.

Sirius stands behind you, his easy smirk firmly in place, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in his gray eyes. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you instinctively dip your head in greeting, murmuring, “Sir Sirius.”

“Sirius,” he corrects lightly, his gaze softening as it lingers on you.

“Sirius,” you murmur, correcting yourself softly.

His smirk softens into something warmer. “You danced with Regulus, Your Highness?”

“Lily,” the princess corrects, her tone mirroring his own.

Sirius chuckles, his attention shifting to her. “Of course, Lily. So, you danced with Reg?”

“As I always do, Sirius,” she replies with a sigh, clearly anticipating where the conversation might lead. Her expression brightens, however, as her gaze lands beyond him. “Oh, James, Remus! A pleasure to see you.”

Both Mary and you instinctively bow your heads, mirroring Lily’s graceful greeting as two men approach.

“Leave the formalities for the elders,” James teases, waving his hand dismissively. “Raise your heads, ladies.”

James Potter is every bit the image of royalty, dressed in a pristine white suit adorned with a red sash. The high collar adds to his regal air, but it’s his confident posture and easy smile —so warm and almost boyish—that truly captivate.

Beside him stands a tall, broad shouldered man with tousled brown hair. The scars that trace his skin catch your eye briefly before you hastily return your attention to the prince, unwilling to appear rude. Yet, the man’s hazel gaze, calm and piercing, seems to notice everything.

“Are you all enjoying the ball?” James asks, his voice warm and smooth as his signature smile graces his lips.

Lily answers first, her response polite and poised as ever. Her agreement prompts Mary and you to nod along.

“Glad to hear it,” James replies, his smile widening. “I know Sirius was enjoying himself not too long ago,” he adds with a teasing lilt, his hand clapping Sirius on the shoulder and lingering there in a way that seems deliberate.

“It was one dance,” Sirius groans, tilting his head toward the prince in exasperation.

“One dance more than usual,” Remus chimes in, his deep, steady voice carrying a hint of humor. His hazel eyes flicker to Sirius, glinting with quiet amusement as he observes his discomfort.

James turns his gaze to you, his teasing grin softening into something gentler. “He didn’t step on your toes, did he, my lady?” he asks, the mock solemnity of his tone bringing a smile to your lips.

You shake your head, your amusement showing clearly. “Of course not.”

James bursts into laughter, the sound rich and full, drawing a few curious glances from those nearby.

“Having women cover for your clumsy footwork now— what a shame,” Remus adds, his tone dripping with mock disappointment as he shakes his head.

Sirius turns to you, lips curling into an exaggerated pout. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve egged them on.”

You shrug, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now, why would I do that, Sirius?”

“You’re killing me, doll,” he groans dramatically, prompting laughter to ripple through the small group.

The conversation shifts back to something closer to polite, though the teasing undercurrent remains. Mary moves subtly closer to you, her hand brushing comfortingly over your back. It’s then you notice the weight of the many gazes lingering on your group, a pressure you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Your eyes lower to the polished marble floor as you focus on listening to James and Lily’s easy banter, their words melding with the hum of the ballroom.

“You alright?” Remus’s voice pulls your attention. He steps closer, his question soft, laced with genuine concern.

You nod lightly. “It seems all of a sudden I’ve run out of energy,” you say, a polite fib. The truth is, this entire night has been draining, though you don’t want him to think he’s dull company. “I’m not used to parties like this,” you add quickly to clarify.

Remus’s lips curve into a smile, his expression warm and understanding. “We have lounges on the top floor for guests who need a break. You’d be welcome to rest there if you’d like.”

You shake your head gently. “I really shouldn’t, but thank you for the suggestion–”

“That’s a great idea,” Lily interjects with an encouraging smile. “Let’s rest our feet for a while.”

“I’ll let Marlene know we’re heading upstairs,” Mary offers before slipping away, likely toward one of the food tables where Marlene is undoubtedly stationed.

“We’ll escort you,” Sirius says smoothly, but Lily raises a hand, declining the offer with a polite smile.

“We’ll be fine on our own, but thank you,” she assures him.

“Of course,” James replies, bowing his head slightly.

Mary returns soon after, accompanied by Marlene, who carries a golden plate piled high with delicate finger foods.

“Enjoy your rest,” James says with a gracious nod, his tone sincere though his smile holds a trace of teasing warmth.

The women dip their heads in thanks before retreating upstairs to find a quiet lounge.

_____

As soon as they’re out of earshot, James turns to Sirius with a mischievous smirk. “Well, wasn’t she a sweetheart?” he asks, his teasing tone unmistakable.

“She’s polite but knows how to hold her own. I’d say you’ve chosen well, Sirius,” Remus adds with an approving nod.

“If you two hadn’t left me—” Sirius starts, a hint of irritation coloring his words.

“We did say you could join us,” James cuts in, raising his hand as if to defend himself.

“And you know damn well if all three of us disappeared, people would notice,” Sirius counters, arching an eyebrow.

James shrugs, entirely unbothered. “Your loss.”

“Not entirely,” Sirius says with a wolfish grin. “It just means we can take our time later.”

“No visible marks,” Remus warns, his voice carrying the weight of experience. “We’ll have guests for a while.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, his grin unwavering. “It’ll be fine—it’s never stopped us before.”

Remus sighs, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Fair enough.”

[the-crooked-library]

okay so I gotta say, I don’t believe the whole “vampires cannot make good art” thing. I just don’t buy it. Like, call me biased, but as a writer, I don’t think you could talk the way they do and not be good at least at writing. There’s no way.

(you are a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis)

(I had powers now, and decades of rage to process - and so it was both random and unfortunate the man picked that night to dabble in fuckery) (I mean are you kidding me, that line is MUSIC)

(THE NAME! The name, unuttered in our home for twenty-three years - said over and over, until it was pounding in my head like a hammer!)

As such: what I personally think is actually happening is something far more mundane. Picture this - you've just been turned. Vampirism has enhanced everything about you, so your senses are like 10 times more distracting, you're stronger, faster, you're murdering nightly, you're most likely born out of some sort of trauma, and on top of that you've got years to compound whatever issues you already had - which, surprise surprise, are also somehow more intense now, whodathunk, mainly because your senses/murder/immortality are fucking with them BIG. Seriously, think about it: how much would vampire senses exacerbate symptoms of ADHD or autism? Would the species change, the nocturnal lifestyle, the mind gift contribute to dissociation, psychosis, schizophrenia? Would the killings and the loss of community be a factor in the way your depression might develop - or religious scrupulosity? OCD?

It's not that vampires cannot make good art. It's just that it becomes supremely difficult to do so, especially given that they cannot take human medication/finding a nocturnal therapist would be a bitch even if you're modern/Louiiss mon cher what eez a coping mechanisme y'know. I am convinced with 100000% certainty that, given enough time and dedication a vampire could absolutely make good art again* - though, in all fairness, very few of the ones we know possess the patience. Mind gifts/vampire speed + strength/inherited riches tend to destroy that sort of skill real fast; still, though, it's not a curse. It's symptoms disease.

* It is also possible, just as it is for humans, to develop all sorts of technical skills and still lack the “eye” for art (cough Marius cough) - but in that case, maybe try music?.. start writing? Get into ASMR? you’ve got an eternity to fuck around. Do whatever.

[abysshare]

Wow..i saw the leaks and just. Wow.

I was hoping they were fake and its everything i hate in a series. I was biting my tongue until i saw the episodes but here we are.

Before i go into spoilers i do want to say that i AM grateful that we even got anymore of Arcane, but sometimes less is more.

Spoilers underneath

Edit: these are kinda messy thoughts.

My biggest gripes:

Too many plot points for a finale

Family trade in ( Bio sister for found sister for bio sister again )

Vander dying, Alive but fucked up, okay, fucked up again, dead, alive but fucked up, dead.

Not bringing up Isha at all??? Not even a quick funeral?

People being brought back to life but Isha and Jinx has to die.

Jinx has to sacrifice herself to save Vi and herself. 😒

The SEX scene.

Better explaination:

Too many Plot points:

I knew it was gonna be too many. I KNOW we needed answers/resolved plots, as well as needing things to make sense. But it.. was too much. Like most media at this point.

Family Trade In:

So... no one really talks about this trope? Or whatever you want to call it. But it bugs me, so much. If you don't know what I'm talking about..

To me a family trade in is when a Character, no matter their role, has family, turns evil or gets lost and finds a family of their own, and then when it seems perfect for them, they end up back with their original family because the new family died for them/their old family or they just.. don't belong/want to go.

Perfect example that isn't Arcane: Amphibia. Anne has to leave her adoptive found family from another universe and can never go back ( until she dies basically ). As well as her friends have to leave their found families as well and also cannot go back. Anne loves both her families..

And while i understand life isn't fair, and that people are allowed to not want to stay here or there.. it just bugs me the trope is to always trade back in for the old.

With Jinx, she "loses" Vi ( and yes Silco but it isn't about him right now ), And gets Isha. I KNEW the second i saw her she was gonna die ( this isn't a bash against those who didn't see it coming ( /genuine ) at some point. While i adore Isha and i am fine with Jinx adopting her, i am not okay with the writers choice of adding her just to kill her and be practically a trade in for Vi later on.

It sucks. I'll just say it out right.

And i want to be very clear. By trade in i do NOT mean replace. I know Isha was never a replacement for Vi ( or Powder ).

Again, i know life sucks, and you just don't get everything you want in this world, especially when it comes to war. But since this is a trope or at least a thing i see constantly, whether its in a pg way or an R rated way... its annoying.

Which brings me to....

People dying / Jinx / Vander:

Why? Other than shock value?

Jinx Dies, and it felts uncomfortable to me as a Psychotic/Schizospec person like her. She should have lived, she should have been able to find her own happiness after properly grieving Isha.

Isha Dies, happy to do so for her big sister(s), but like.. it ends up not being worth it. It both does and doesn't. She saved them time but then-

Vander. Vander is killed, then brought back to life in a fucked up way, then okay for awhile, then fucked up again, then dies ( by Isha ) and then is fucked up again and alive, and then dead.......... and then fucked up and alive again! And then dies, with Jinx!

It doesn't feel satisfying. Of course that one moment was very sweet and worth it. But oh my god? Why do it at all if you're just gonna kill and reanimate him again and again. Its not shocking its annoying by the third time and a joke by the fourth.

Viktor.. Same deal with him? And I'm not even clear if he is dead or just fucked off to space-time with Jayce, but still. It wasn't shocking anymore. Or thrilling. Just like "ah. Okay. Cool mask".

Heimerdinger... when i read the leaks i thought he was gonna die. Then i was watching and thought "oh no okay, he's gonna stay in that universe. Thats nice he deserves that". Nope. He's either also dead or also in space time. I just sighed really hard rather than be sad.

And finally.. The Doctor's daughter gets to live- AND HIMSELF- even he gets a happy ending? Over Jinx or Vi? What.. i mean yes Vi gets Caitlyn , but.. ? Ugh

The Sex scene:

I'm glad for Sapphic rep i really really am. I like Caitvi a lot as well. But this didn't feel comfortable for me. Not because it was an intimate moment, but because neither of them talked things out properly. On top of that it was really random.

Vi was upset, then suddenly horny for i guess.. make up or grief sex? Or both? And Cait was obviously fine with it, but then to suddenly try and talk about Maddie. I'm glad Vi wasn't the typical ">:( you fucked someone else while i was hurting?!" It was so... random. This is why they needed to talk before hand. At LEAST say it before getting into it.

And doing it in Jinx's cell? It feels so.. weird and wrong in a way? I don't know how to describe it.

TLDR: what in the five marvel hells was that other than visuals pretty

[enruiinas]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ His trek down the hall was brief. No more than a dozen long strides that carried him from his perch in the bedroom doorway to the living room where he intended to wait for her. But with every step he took further away from her, the feeling of unease grew in the pit of Law's stomach.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ Why did it feel like this? How did the short jaunt down the hallway somehow feel like the furthest trip he'd ever taken? And why did forcing himself to sit down on the couch leave him feeling so restless? Had he truly grown so anxious even to let the redhead out of his sight for the time it took to take a shower?

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ No, that wasn't it - at least not entirely, anyway. Decisions to let go of what had happened aside, part of the surgeon knew it would take time - a while - to stop turning corners and worrying she'd disappear the moment his back was turned. But that was not the reason for his uneasiness.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ It was this… thing between them. This uncertainty. Law had meant what he'd said, that she could take her pick and decide what her stay would look like, and he'd seen the resolve in Nami's eyes before she'd deposited her things upon his bed. They were both trying to bring back some sense of normalcy between them - but it wasn't enough. It felt… wrong, somehow, to walk away like this. To sit here on the edge of his seat, unable to do more than look at the journal's cover on the tabletop. She'd wanted him to read it - to have a means of experiencing the things he'd missed so far, but he couldn't bring himself to try. Not yet. Not because he wasn't ready, hadn't processed the news yet - he hadn't, but that wasn't what kept him from even trying to consider the unexpected situation he'd found himself in.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ The reality was simply that he couldn't focus on anything - not with the overwhelming sense of wrongness between them. Law wasn't sure which idea bothered him more: the thought that Nami might feel that same wrongness too (as if something remained to be said between them still), or the possibility that she hadn't. There was no reason to feel wrong, was there? She'd put her things in his bedroom. She had asked to borrow his shirt; to wear something that smelled like him. She was here.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ They were doing much better than they might have been, weren't they? So why did he have the feeling he was making a mistake already?

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ He'd been sitting and staring unseeing at the coffee table before him for no more than two minutes when he found himself on his feet again, the feeling of something unresolved - an opportunity he lay on the threshold of missing - leading him to the hallway again. The sound of running water was a distant buzz at the edge of his thoughts; he should wait until she finished…

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ But the feeling persisted, and his body would not be reasoned with. Before he'd fully realized what he was doing, Law found himself outside the closed bathroom door, hand frozen suspended where he'd lifted it to reach for for the doorknob. What was he doing? What if she didn't want him to follow her? What if she'd locked it? What if they weren't…

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ He should knock, he decided - but even as he'd made his mind up, his body overruled it a second time, and without bothering to announce himself, he found himself in an open doorway, watching a beautiful, redheaded woman frown at herself in the mirror's reflection. Her nose was scrunched - presumably from her stomach's untimely contact with the counter's edge. Then her eyes met his in the mirror, and the man stood frozen, unspeaking. He simply stared at her in silence for several long moments, whatever it was that had led him here stubbornly locked inside of him. He held her gaze and his features remained unreadable; his eyes did not stray to the body on display before him. They locked with hers and there they settled.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ And then his body betrayed him a third time; before either had managed to say anything, he took a long and deliberate stride nearer, gold never straying from chestnut in the mirror.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ❝I forgot,❞ Law murmured as he stepped closer. ❝There was one more thing I wanted to say to you.❞

[cupcakesmoothie]

The girls (the emotions in my brain) are fightinggg

[sanasanakun]

I guess I find the shipping discourse a little funny because fandoms are gonna create ships regardless of the subject matter. I think really heavy, depressing media creates a need for people to see human connection. It’s like a way to cope, you know? More importantly and specific to this game (Mouthwashing), I also find it a little funny just because the devs themselves seem to be leaning towards ~one~ “ship” by retweeting artwork that depicts them as pretty close and protective. They even did an edit of them on that Florence Pugh and that one white guy romance movie with a “what could have been” caption. Sooo tldr the ship drama is kind of dumb. Please block and move on cause the discourse is taking up space on my feed when I’m trying to look for more art of Daisuke lmao

[d8tl55c]

oh boy !! ! ! ! !!! ! thANK y0u all for the kind words on my last art posts. you all get it and i was/still am so happy about it

as promised, here's some close-ups of the comic for image quality's sake, and other screenshots i rescued from the community whiteboard (and something else)

first up another sketch of mystery gender-ambiguous being. (please send me more name ideas for them if you got one- i like to hear em! (reminder it's the side character that appeared for <10 seconds in AvM Ep. 30))

a few fav scenes

emotional support cwab

they weren't meant for this purpose exactly, but i do have countless "fluffy sticks" loose in my notes and homework sheets from the school years.

papery critter.

even when i wasn't confident in fur or feathers, they helped me practice posing and create some satisfying gradients/flowing poses. (im a sucker for good tail poses) (oh yay! i found a good pic...)

and finally, little sneak peak for you for reading so far ;3

i realized that whiteboardfox is pretty great for my working needs. simple and to the point and all. feels nice with the mouse and the tablet.

so i started hashing out a big project idea just to see if it holds up and

[

several hours later ...

]

oh

oh man

it's a little bigger than i expected

<next>

[arcane-ish]

Hmm, I think I can live with that if I think about it some more and maybe it might make the Felicia stuff more fitting even 🤔

One thing I wanna say is, I've always been a fan of having your own interpretation and finding your own meaning. I've always shipped non canon couples, I've always shipped couples that were not the final OTPs.

I also think that particularly tv shows are always made up out of so many creative voices, whether writers, new writers, directors, actors etc. It always made sense to me that they wouldn't have a cohesive message or that the message gets blurred or trite if the show goes on for 12 seasons.

Arcane is in the unusual situation where there's even a chance to have a genuine cohesive message. You can still find it trite or not your conviction or would have preferred a different one.

I get the potential disappointment of "I thought this was gonna be a message about oppression and resistance or survival against adversity and actually it's a show about how everybody loves and love is messy".

But I think the right thing to do is to at least try to hear it out (especially if it seems like a genuine effort rather than a corporate by the numbers job where they just try to go with whatever message they think you want to hear). Even if in the end you decide you heard it before or they sound more like a rambling drunk.

super good analysis video of the theme of arcane, worth the watch

[moeblob]

Moeblob: (tries to establish a fish theme. likes to be called salmon.) FEH: Broccoli alts only, no negotiations.

(this is for you Leo.... I'm sorry........... you don't deserve it)

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[sunnynardelli]

“I hope if that is the case they at least spring for the plastic ones,” she said with a laugh. She could only imagine someone actually trying to pass down paper plates. They’d probably last for a couple of days before thing started falling apart of being completely unsanitary. At the end of the day, people were going to buy and use what made sense for their lives. Who was she to judge? At least they had something to put on their plates. “There is liability with everything,” she said with a shrug. “I mean, if the plate is important enough someone might just beat you up for dropping it. You have to take your chances.” There was definitely always a chance of something going wrong. It was definitely no harm in finding something in a thrift store and making it something new. Some chances were meant to be taken. “I think if you search hard enough you can get the good stuff. Sometimes, you can even get whole sets because people just don’t care to have it.” She’d definitely seen some nice stuff here and there. It was definitely cheaper than it would have been back in the day. “You deserve whatever you want though and you should know that I’d buy you whatever you wanted. Heck, my dads would probably help me buy it if it was obscene. That’s what friends are for.” She knew that they would do the same in return if asked. She nodded, prepping to move. “For now, let’s go. The night is young and we need to move yonder.”

"These days, you're probably more likely to have paper plates passed down," although they weren't sure what the likelihood was of those things sticking around for generations. Still, it seemed to be more used than fine china, which a lot of people couldn't even afford. But there were other things that you could inherit, or memories that you could keep with you, and those counted just as much, if not more. At least to Stelly. "Okay, that's fair," they laughed, nodding their head, "because then it becomes a liability if they get hurt. Or if, god forbid, anyone else gets hurt," which was even worse, since it wasn't their fault. Not to mention the cleaning, and that wasn't really fun, either. "I'm happy with thrifting other peoples nice glass, though. I don't want to purchase more of it, I want the good, old fashioned stuff that was actually worth something," and not made cheap and on the fly the way that so many things were those days. No, they wanted the real stuff. That wasn't so much to ask, they didn't think. "Although I'm not against finessing some free gifts out of people, either," even if they probably would end up feeling bad eventually… but eventually, not right away. "Nope, but it's a winner, anyway," they struck a cowboy pose before laughing. "Come on, I think we need to gather some yee-haw friends and go dosey-do or drink whiskey or something."

[al-luviec]

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)

[fedoraspooky]

Replying to this here so it doesn't get lost in the other person's post but aw man I hope it turns up for you someday. ;w; I probs woulda loved to see that drawing of ST1X regardless of how confident you felt about it but I understand, I often got nervous drawing fanart for other people too. Also it's sad to lose old art, I've lost a ton of notebook drawings and loose leaf printer paper art from my late teens/early 20s because 1) I moved around a lot in my life so a lotta stuff got shuffled around and 2) there's SO MUCH STUFF I never posted. OCs that I maybe drew once or twice, beta versions of what would eventually become a few of the characters I currently have, one-off drawings I made on a whim or because I was bored in class...

I think it was because at the time, back on dA, it got to the point where there were so many eyes on my work that I got scared if people would like something or not, or if a piece was 'finished-looking' enough, and it was kinda paralyzing... so there were years where I would post maybe a fraction of what I drew. x_x In hindsight I was deffo overthinking it, but that's hindsight for ya.

I know some of it's still around somewhere, probably in an old banker box in storage, but other drawings got destroyed for sure because I carried them around in a notebook too much and the graphite smudged off from the paper rubbing together. It's sad to think about, but at least that was only a small number of drawings before I made an effort to clean out my notebooks of loose paper more often. .w.

I'm a lot more careful with my drawings now and make backups of backups (my webcomic is backed up in at least 5 different ways right now!) but idk... maybe if I can dig up some of my old paper drawings one day I'll post 'em or something, might be fun.

[hauntingofhouses]

i think im gonna take a break from my fic to write my original work instead