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Jayden's Letters

This has been a passion project of mine for a long time and I've been working on it for a long time. I'm glad I'm able to share this with you all and I hope you enjoy it as much as I've loved writing it <3

I'll post more projects of mine in the future, but this is what I have now.

Tw: Alcohol Consumption, Pill Abuse, Cursing, Gore, Hallucinations, Murder, Heavily Implied Suicide

Everything was ringing in John’s ears, the buzzing growing more and more intense. He faintly heard his name being called, it slowly growing as his eyesight slowly focused on his hands and the salad in front of him.

“John? John, are you okay?” The voice snapped him out of his daze.

“Huh?" He whispered, looking up and staring at her.

"Are you okay John? You kind of blacked out on me there." Alyssa playfully teased, staring at him with a nervous expression.

"Oh yeah, I'm…I'm okay." He told her, his hand holding the side of his head.

"Okay…if you say so." She shrugged before continuing her story.

The ringing in his ears grew to a pitch as he let out a small groan. He squeezed his eyes before snapping them open, now standing in the doorway of his house as the ringing in his ears started to die down.

"How'd I get here…?" He whispered, closing the front door behind him as he dropped his bag on the couch next to him. He stumbled to the counter, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the note on his counter. John shook his head and walked past to grab a cup. He turned and pulled a bottle of whiskey off his fridge. He accidentally slammed the glass on the counter, sucking in a breath at the loud slam.

"Fuck." He hissed, rubbing his temples as he closed his eyes.

John let out a breath and slightly opened them again, popping the cap off of the bottle before pouring the golden liquid into the glass cup. He set the heavy amber bottle back on down and sealed it, slightly pushing the glass back from the edge. He walked back to the note, picking it up with one hand while the other brought the glass cup to his lips. He threw his head back, swallowing the liquid in one go before coughing, his head falling back forwards.

John sighed and finally picked up the crumpled note, smoothing it out so he could read it more clearly. The text was neat and almost clean, a little crooked here and there but otherwise it looked almost perfect.

"Dear John,

I know we haven't talked in a while. Or at all actually. But I thought it would be nice to try and reconnect! I heard you got a new job, that's amazing to hear! I know you're probably confused on who I am and I apologize, but hopefully we'll see each other again!

Love, J."

John let out a small scoff, crumpling the paper again. He went to pour another glass but stopped when he saw a shadow fly past in the corner of his eye. He turned to scan his office, the room almost pitch black. "Hello?" He called out, setting his cup down and walking over to the office. He stepped past the barrier before stumbling back at the feeling of hands brush his chest. "Shit!" He yelped, falling back and staring up at the abyss. He let out heavy breaths as he quickly stood up, grabbing his phone from the counter and stumbling back to his bathroom.

Once in his bathroom John started the water in the sink. He put his hands under the running water, a small hiss slipping from him at the cool feeling hitting his palms and running down his fingers. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, splashing his face with the water. He raised his head again, his vision blurry from the water on his lashes. He went to grab the towel on the counter so he could dry his face but then he paused, noticing something in the corner of his eyes, reflected from the mirror. He shook his head, ignoring it as he grabbed one of the various bright orange bottles on his bathroom counter. He looked down at the label. It was Fluoxetine prescribed to a "Johnathan Oscar". He went to open the top, struggling more than he'd like to admit. When he finally got it open it slipped out of his hand, falling into the sink. "No!" He squeaked, dropping the bottle into the sink.

He let out a breath, his gaze shooting up and landing on the mirror. His gaze immediately trailed over to the bathroom closet door behind him. It was cracked open with black, slender fingers gripping the doorframe. His gaze trailed up and he made 'eye contact' with the being, beady red eyes. A small breath left him as he slowly turned his head to look back at the closet. It was closed, no sign of anything or anyone. He let out a small breath and looked back at the mirror, seeing it opened a bit more. "The fuck…?" He muttered, looking back at the door with a furrowed brow. He shook his head and turned back to the sink, trying to pull as many pills out of the sink as he could. He grabbed three pills from his prescription, setting the bottle back on the counter and turning to walk back to the kitchen.

When he got back to the counter he opened the bottle of Whiskey again, pouring it back into the shot glass. He poured more of the amber liquid into the glass. John set the glass bottle down again, making sure he didn't make it slam. He sealed the case before pushing it back and away from the counter. He grabbed the pills, putting them in his mouth and swallowing them before using the alcohol as a chaser, another cough slipping from him. He walked over to the couch and went to grab the remote for the device. When he flicked the device on it didn't turn on. "What is wrong with you?" He muttered, frowning at the screen. He sighed and flipped the remote over, opening the batter compartment. Instead of the normal double A batteries you'd see there was a paper folded up. He pulled it out and unfolded it, his eyes scanning over the writing yet again. This time it was a little more jumbled but it still looked neat.

"Dear John,

Do you remember that night we walked together by the freeway? The night when we talked for hours and hours together? It's one of my favorite memories. The way you held my hand as our laughter mixed together, our pains defend by the joy of that night. I can't still remember the way you gently said my name and the way you'd squeeze my hand when you wanted to make a silent agreement. I wish we could still do that. But people change. I know you definitely have. But that's okay, maybe I can find a way to change with you. Anyways, I hope this finds you well.

Love, J."

John grumbled softly, balling up the note and throwing it onto the couch as he stood up. "Who the fuck is J? And where are his letters coming from?" He snarled, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm down. John trudged over to the cabinet nearby, opening it and watching for some sort of food. As he searched for something to eat there was a large slam nearby causing him to jump. "Shit." He gasped, his hand gripping his chest as his heart pounded in his chest, the beating making his ears ring again. He squeezed his eyes and gripped his shirt, his nails pushing against his palm through the thin fabric. When his eyes opened again his gaze landed to the mid-stomach of a figure. His gaze slowly trailed up, going higher and higher before stopping at where the door frame stopped, about mid-neck.

The figure was thin. It was so thin that he could see the ribs protruding from its chest. He went back to the stomach and saw how the skin dipped back, just barely enough space to fit the internal organs it would need. John's gaze flicked to its arms. They were un-naturally long; they reached to about the middle of its shins, which was even more surprising because its legs were also long, maybe a little longer than its arms. The skin. It looked like the skin was rotten, hugging the bones that made the limbs. At first glance it would be easily mistaken for a skeleton. If not for the stench of rotting flesh and the visible decay of its skin.

There were a few pauses of deafening silence, the ringing in John's ears only growing in pitch before the zombie-like creature let out a blood curdling scream. One that almost caused John to stumble and fall to the ground. The only reason why he didn't was because the creature came charging at him, but stopped after a few steps and collapsed, its head being torn from its body. When John saw the head he let out a scream of pure terror. He stared down at the sunken, bright red eyes staring up at him. Its mouth was hung slack, one side barely hanging on. If it weren't for the little bit of cheek tissue that desperately clung to the peeling muscle. John slapped a hand over his mouth, his legs giving out under him, causing the male to trip over his own feet and land back on his tailbone.

He scrambled up and gripped his hair, stumbling into the kitchen, his legs barely able to take the weight of his body. He stopped at his fridge and stared at a letter stuck to the cool metal by a magnet. This time the writing was less neat, it was jumbled and more squished together. It looked as if the person writing it wrote too fast.

"Dear John,

I know you've struggled with eating well. Especially when it comes to this new prescription. I made you some food for this week. I didn't know what you'd want so I made a lot with what I could find. Please remember to take care of yourself John. I can't stand to see you like this. And remember that I'm always there to help you. I'm one call or text or even fucking letter away. Please let me help you.

Love, J."

John stared at the Letter. He shifted and opened the fridge, letting out an almost immediate gag at the horrid smell hitting his nostrils. He immediately moved his hand to plug his nose, trying to block out the smell of death that threatened bile to creep up his throat further. He thickly swallowed, feeling the bile burn his throat as he forced it back down. But when he looked back into the fridge all attempts to keep his vomit down failed. The fridge was filled with rotting body parts. There were internal organs laid out, a heart still beating on the upper level on top of his milk, there was an arm and a leg in a glass dish, a pair of Kidneys was sat on one of his white square dishes. The blood that would've accompanied the organs and limbs was now a dark reddish brown, a few streaks of bright red from the heart, a few squirts being shot out as the organ desperately tried to provide blood to the bow deconstructed body. There were maggots over most of the organs, eating through them and leaving torn holes scattered over them. Some of the holes even going through the thick tissue of each organ.

At the sight of the decaying flesh John doubled over, vomit shooting out of his throat and onto the lower level of the fridge, burning his throat as it went flying out. It was a slight yellowish color, clumps of torn up leaves from his salad earlier. He let out harsh coughs after the spill ended. He stumbled back and bent over the sink, washing the area around his mouth. He let out more coughs, his throat raw from the acid that shot up qnd out earlier. He turned his head and gulped down some of his sink water, coughing more. "I-its just the alcohol. It's just the alcohol and the pills. I-I must've taken too much." He muttered to himself, looking over at the still opened fridge. He closed the door and stumbled back against his counter, his breathing heavy from the pressure being applied to his lungs.

He closed his eyes again and let out a small sob, finally allowing the situation to process. This wasn't his imagination, people- no things were in his house and they were tormenting him. Whoever this 'J' person was is the root cause of his suffering. He let out another breath, standing and gripping his stomach. " I just need sleep. Whatever is going on will stop. I'm just sleep deprived. Yeah. I'm just sleep deprived." He muttered, one of his hands moving and tangling in his hand in his hair. He sighed and shook his head, walking back to his bathroom. He closed the door behind him and started the water to wash himself off. "A relaxing shower before bed. Nothing will happen." He whispered to himself, peeling his shirt off. He glanced over at his mirror again and saw another letter taped to the reflective surface. The handwriting was jumbled, there were spots of dirt brushed against the paper, turning it a slight brown.

"Dear John,

I can barely recognize you now. I don't know what's going on with you but please, let me help you. I want to help you through whatever you're going through, please let me help you. I know this has been hard for you, losing your sister and all. But please remember that you're loved. I'll be here to help you and listen to you. I love you. Really.

Love, Jay."

The male let out a small breath, crumpling the paper and throwing it against the wall. He leaned over and started the water for his shower, holding back tears. "Why…? Why me? Why me of all people?" He whispered to himself, stepping back and pushing the balls of his palms to his forehead. He took a deep breath before letting out a pained cry, his voice breaking as he screamed. He doubled over again and moved his arms to hug himself, crying a bit as he knelt down next to the bathtub, leaning his forehead against the cool ceramic. He opened his eyes slightly and rested his chin on the edge, looking up and watching as the water fell, hitting the bottom of the tub. John let out a breath and shakily stood again. He stepped into the tub, not even caring about the dark slacks that clung to his hips. He sat down in the water, a full body shiver causing his body to shake just a bit. "Cold…" he muttered under his breath, pulling his knees to his chest.

A couple minutes later he shot up, his breathing heavy as he looked around. John looked down at his hands, they were pruned, staying down when he pressed his thumb against the skin. "How long…" he trailed off, looking up to the door. There was yet another figure, but this one he recognized as the shadow in his closet. He scrambled backwards, his spine pressing against the divot in the tub. His breath was shaky, he glanced back at the small ledge digging into his back before his gaze snapped back to the figure. "Go away…" He whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke. "Go away!" He yelled, burying his face into his knees as his arms wrapped around his head as a sort of shield. As he yelled there was a hiss and the figure disappeared. John sighed and quickly stepped out of the tub. His foot slipped a little causing him to fall to his knees.

The male stared down at the ground, his breath heavy as his vision blurred in and out of focus. John heard a familiar voice hiss his name in his ear. The voice was soothing, almost haunting calm as it cooed his name clearly. He let out a yell and slammed his right fist to the ground, his vision going fully blurry due to the tears that stung his eyes, threatening to spill down his burning cheeks. "Leave me alone! Get out of my fucking home!" He yelled, his voice cracking and breaking as he yelled. A sob slipped from him, causing his body to shake a little bit. He heard the voice again, but before it could finish he shot up and stumbled out of the bathroom. He quickly ducked into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, panting heavily as he pressed his back against the door. He slowly opened his eyes, scanning the dark room for any figures that had been haunting him.

When it seemed clear he carefully flicked on the lights, moving to his closet to get into a change of clothes. He carefully slid on a pair of gray sweatpants, the soft fabric clinging to his still wet legs. He let out a small shiver, quickly grabbing a plain dark blue-almost Navy colored sweater. He pulled it on before turning to walk out. That's when he saw the note taped to the doorframe. He felt his heart drop to his stomach while his gut was doing flips around his heart. John slowly reached out and tugged the letter down to properly read it. The paper itself was damaged, it looks like it had been crumpled and ran through the dirt. The writing was jumbled, it looked like it was scrawled on as if the writer was in a panic. Some of the letters were squished together and some of the others were spaced too far apart. It looked like a child had gotten a pen and scrawled what they thought.

"Dear John,

Do you remember our first sleepover? You hit me with your pillow so hard it gave me a black eye. I'm positive the zipper hit my eye. You felt so bad. You were terrified your mom would get upset and send me home. That's when you helped me. It was the softest you touched me. I swear my heart was doing flips in my chest. If you had kept holding me how you were, I would've lost all self control.

Love, Jay”

John's heart dropped as he read the letter. His eyes went over the words over and over and over again, the echo of his voice playing in his head. He tore the paper in half before crumpling it, his heart pounding so hard he could hear the rhythmic beating in his ears. He crawled into his bed, curling up under the blankets as he hugged himself tightly, making a sort of protective shield in his mind. John was muttering soft reassurances to himself, promising how it's all just his imagination and he'll be okay. ‘This is all just a bad dream’ he repeated in his mind over and over and over again. He felt tears burning his eyes, spilling down his face and onto his pillow, another shakey sob slipping from him as he tangled his hands in his hair, squeezing his eyes. John has eventually tired himself out, slowly dozing off into a deep slumber. That was until he felt a cool breeze brush against his face.

He let out a small groan, pushing himself off the dirt floor. His head was pounding, when he fully opened his eyes and stood it felt like the world was spinning around him. John put his arms out for balance, slowly closing his eyes again as his legs slowly started to get used to having weight on them. When he opened his eyes again he stared out at the twinkling city ahead of him, his stomach dropping. He then heard laughing coming from the right of him, causing him to immediately snap his head in that direction, his breathing heavy. “Hello? Is anyone there?” He called out, taking a small step towards the sound. When he heard more laughter he bolted over to the voices, his mind spinning as his body tried to keep up with the adrenaline. When he got to the voices they stopped. All sounds except John's panting had ceased, the Silence slowly creeping closer, seeping its twisted tendrils into his mind and latching on. John stood from his bent position, searching for any signs of life other than the city. That was when a paper caught on his foot. He knelt down and picked it up. The handwriting was neater, it looked like care and effort was put into it.

“Dear John,

This was our first date spot, this was the spot where I confessed my love for you. I remember it as if it were yesterday. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it would've tore out of my chest. You looked so pretty under the night stars, that's when I admitted my feelings for you. I had hoped you would've been ecstatic, confessing back to me and smothering me in affection. But instead you tore my heart out. You called me mean names as tears rolled down your cheeks. When I tried to wipe them away, that's when you pushed me. You yelled at me to ‘get away’ and you pushed me instinctively. My footing slipped. The fall down hurt, the wind hitting my back before I slammed into some rocks, rolling down until finally my head was cracked. Now, I'm giving you the pain that you've given me. You don't deserve to live anymore. Not after what you've done.

Jayden.”

John stared at the letter in his hands before it was blown away. In its place was blood, the cold liquid dripping down his hands. He opened his mouth to scream but all that came out was a broken sob. That's when he heard an explosion in the distance. His gaze shot up and there was a firework lighting up the sky. John stepped closer to the cliff edge, his hands slowly falling to his sides as he stared out into the horizon. Then he took one last step, his body giving into the wind.

This is it. The ending of a chapter I've spent so long on. This has taken me roughly 5 months to write and I'm going to do more because I'm going to turn this into a film.

After weeks of radio silence from art, I got some new art for y’all! Timeskip Luz headshot + background :)

THIS IS ADORABLE MY OC DAKOTA GIVING A HUG TO @crystaljaybay !! *screeches* jay likes her!!

This took so long but I'm really pleased by the outcome. Rocinante and Law are two of my three favorite characters from One Piece and doing this with them was so much fun.

IM ALIVE MY RENDERING ABILITIES HAVE BEEN REANIMATED IM BAAACKKK IM AALLIIIIVEVEEEE

A baby meets a God.

Many things can happen when you curiously sniff, and in this case it's befriending a god and it's little friends :D

"Color God, The God of Colors... but looks like a black hole" belongs to my good friend @/KiraAgness-Anomaly who's Amazing (and delicious) art can be found on YouTube and around Discord!

Part 2 doot

Oh my God I finally made Sona art

:D!!!!!!!!

I present to you, the silliest of sillies!

I am so proud of this drawing, Finn looks so cute!!

Some totally rad art for @loverofpiggies , the one and only crayon queen

I hope you like it ^^

lolol I feel like it's so bad XD

Hey hey look it's an art I did this a little while (ish-) back (maybe a few weeks ago And hadn't posted it here yet So Enjoy >_> Speedpaint coming next

Moonlight – part 5

Word count: 1.4k

Part 4 part 3 part 2 part 1

Angst angst angst angst

(Next chapter will be a Steve chapter!!!!)

Nothing happened of course. He just let Steve hang out at his place until he cooled down and Eddie sent him off back to Nancy. Back to Nancy. He can't help but feel a bitter hatred towards the girl despite her doing absolutely nothing to him. He knows it's just jealousy though, jealousy about a boy he'll never in a million years get.

Why does he keep doing this to himself? Wanting what he can't have. Fame, money, boys, a life in general.

Because he's Eddie Munson. The world has it out for him.

He stabs his pencil through the paper of his sketchbook, his blood going cold as he realizes he shouldn't have done that. The dragon on the page now has a gaping hole in it's chest, and while he could try to fix it, he doesn't want to fix things right now. Fixing needs effort, and he doesn't have that in him at the moment, not while he's sitting on his bed crying over a boy.

"Eddie Munson, crying over a jock. What a twist, huh?" He comments bitterly to the ratty Garfield plush in front of him, slumped over from the lack of stuffing in one side, droopy eyes scratched to practically nothing. He still keeps it though, because he loves it.

Some things don't need to be fixed. They're lovable the way they are.

And yet nobody seems to love Eddie. Sure, his mom loved him, but that was when he was a kid, and he can't help but wonder if she would still love him if she was around today. Wayne too, but that's different, hard to see. He wants a different love, he wants Steve's love. He'll get rid of it soon. This stupid, horrible crush on a boy. A boy who's both a jock and a werewolf. God, what has his life become?

It's been a week since he stopped Steve from spraypainting all over town, and he can't help but realize.. he missed the full moon. Steve would've already turned back by now, all alone. It's fine. It's not like Steve needs him, and Eddie was wanting to distance himself from Steve. This is good for them both.

Yet guilt eats away at him, squeezing and twisting at his insides, making his lungs close up and his throat catch. He can hardly breathe, and it hurts. He feels like he should apologize, but he can't, it's not even necessary. Steve never needed Eddie there, not when he's been transforming all by himself for years and years already by the time Eddie found him.

He can't go to school. He can't even risk the chance of seeing Steve, can't even risk the chance of seeing this damn boy. It hurts. It's horrible, it's.. Eddie gets up, going out to the small kitchen as if his body is on autopilot. He opens the fridge and closes it a couple times, his brain empty from the lack of accomplishment of grabbing something from the barren shelves. He doesn't know what to do with himself. It's a feeling not unknown to him, but it's never been at the hands of a boy who looks both like a God and Just Some Dude. What is wrong with him? He's Eddie Munson, of all people he should be immune to Harrington's charms.

But he just isn't.

Nothing is working, either. Not food, not drawing, not his music, not D&D– hell, he even tried going on a walk. Nothing. Is. Working. He tried to lose himself in his interests, tried to let them consume him completely like they do when he doesn't want them to, but not even those want him now. His guitar isn't calling to him, neither are his books or the figurines that still need to be painted.

Eddie needs to talk to this boy. Even once. He doesn't care if he'll be rejected, he truly doesn't, he just.. needs to get this feeling out. Shoes on his feet, keys in his hand, he stills. He didn't even open the door yet.

He can't do this. He should be confident, but no, he's shaking like a leaf, his stomach churning. He doesn't even take his shoes off as he walks back to his room, slowly slipping into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. He doesnt like this feeling. He doesn't like when the only things beckoning him closer are the things that will hurt him most. How when he thought Steve was in danger he was so ready to leave, yet now he can't even open the front door?

There's something wrong with him. Always has been, always will be. If he's not killed or doesn't do it himself before he graduates he'll be driven out of this hellhole of a town, either going to jail and reuniting with his no-good dad or being completely alone for the rest of his life. People would talk and wonder. They'd discuss and gossip about Mr. Munson, the shut-in neighbor with a cat who nobody sees outside unless he's working or on his porch, the man who doesn't speak, the man who stays inside when he doesn't have errands, the man who drinks himself to bed every day. They'd wonder what happened to get him like that– if he had a wife who passed away or something.

He closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face, attempting to swallow down the lump in his throat at the thought. He doesn't want that but it seems like the only future for him. The Garfield plush on his pillow that he found comfort in since he was a child now seems like it's mocking him, it's lazy eyed stare and wide sleepy smile staring him down.

That's when he hears the tapping on his window. There was knocking at his door earlier but he didn't bother to answer, knowing that if it was his uncle he wouldn't be knocking and would just come inside, not really caring about visitors.

He doesn't get out of bed, but he hears the window slide open, harsh sunlight burning his eyes as someone tumbles into his room, shoe covered feet landing on Eddie's carpeted floors.

And his voice.

"Eddie? What's going on? You weren't there.." Steve says quietly, hesitantly walking over to Eddie's bedside as if he was sick or something. He must look pathetic, buried under a thin blanket, clutching a stuffed animal, with his hair a mess and his eyes all puffy and red.

"You weren't there." Steve repeats. "I waited for you. All night. I don't even know what happened– I just know I woke up and I... I was covered in blood. I don't know what or who's blood it was– I'm freaking the fuck out!" He says, pacing Eddie's room. The boy jolts up, rubbing his eyes and throwing the blanket off. That's when he finally gets a good look at Steve. The tired eyes, his uncharacteristically sunken and pale skin, dried blood on his hands as if all he could do was try and wipe it off his skin with what he could find and shove some clothes on before going straight to Eddie.

"Shit shit shit, shit, shit! Okay.. okay, blood. You didn't kill someone, you couldn't have. You're not that kinda... person.. werewolf.. thing." Eddie says breathlessly, getting up out of bed and realizing that half of this blood is Steve's. The way it seeps through his blue sweater, creating a dark stain that just keeps spreading.

"I don't know what happened." Steve admits upon realizing what Eddie is looking at, lifting up his sweater to show a gaping hole in his abdomen, next to that patch of hair Eddie has dreamed about again and again.

"Holy shit.. Steve, you got shot*" He says in shock, but Steve doesn't even look surprised. He simply shoves his fingers into the wound and pulls out a bullet, wiping his hand on his sweater. "I'll be fine. It's not even close to the first time, I know how to handle it. You got a first aid kit or anything?"

Eddie blinks a few times.. sure, Steve is a werewolf, he's strong, he doesn't feel as much pain as a normal person. But he just pulled a bullet out of his flesh and asked Eddie if he had gauze with the normalcy of asking if it's cold out today, not to mention he didn't even notice the blood was his own.

Now all he has to do is keep it together when Steve pulls off his shirt to patch himself up.

Tag list: @manda-panda-monium @irregular-child @gregre369 @cartercaptainofthemoon @oatmilk-vampire @she-collects-smut @jhrc666 @fairytalesreality

Tag list IS currently open! ♡

[24]

Day 2: Flowers

Love is in The Air

Wanted to draw these two beauties. Just a pinch of opposites attract.

Maybe I’ll post something more about each of them in the future… We’ll see!

Image flipped ☟

Image without border ☟

The tune dances upon the breeze… carrying the Autumn melody to your ears 🍂

Take a look at my newest YouTube video on how I made it!

YouTube

Autumn Melody | oc drawing | #originalcharacter

I’m back!!! Coming in hot with a brand new digital art piece of one of my many ocs. I hope you guys enjoy it ☺️

Cookin sum up rn...

Sometimes when I read a fanfic that’s been written years ago I wonder if the author even remembers it. And I wonder whether they still like it and are proud of it or maybe they think it’s just kind of a relict from a very weird chapter of their lives that has already been closed.

RAPH ❗❗❗

Has my content been mainly about smilimg critters? Yes. Is that gonna stop me from making a Raph rottmnt pfp? No..

YET ANOTHER ART TRADE!!! WOOHOO!!

my art trade half for @the-little-knight !! I will admit I'm super happy with how this turned out! this scenario was fun to draw! 🫶❤️ hope ya like it!! :Dc

(art trades are still up for grabs! if you're interested in doing one, PM me! :3c ❤️)