info activism


so hey!!!! i’m gonna star taking commissions!! i don’t know how long they’ll be open, but if you’re interested, hit me up at my email!!!

Avatars & Icons 
what’s shown in the above image is going to be my default style for these. however, if you want me to do a different style, like the sketch or messy monochrome, that works too. regardless of style, it’ll all be $20. 500x500 pixels is the default size. 

Full Color Images
the price for these ranges from $30-50 because it depends on the size of the image and how many characters there are, and because the style i’m using takes me much longer to finish than the others. 

if it’s just a bust shot/waist up image of one character, then the price is $30. but full body shots add $10, and adding another character will be another $10.

Monochrome Sketch
these don’t take me very long, and are pretty simple to do. the price for these is $15, but an extra character will be another $5. full body or waist up doesn’t change the price of these.

Messy Monochrome 
these have a lot of texture and line to them, so they cost a little more than the regular sketches. extra characters will be another $5.

in general, i won’t be doing any sort of background unless otherwise specified. this will be an extra +$5 on all of the pieces.

What i’m willing to draw:

  • i’m willing to draw ships, however i refuse to draw anything that is abusive/pedophilic/incestuous or NSFW. and there are some ships that i really can’t stand that aren’t any of those, so i’m sorry about that.
  • self inserts
  • OCs
  • characters from manga/anime/cartoons/movies/etc

What i won’t draw:

  • as mentioned above, any ships that are abusive/pedophilic/incestuous or NSFW.
  • gore/horror
  • pretty much anything that falls into those categories

and also, if you’re going to request a self insert/OC or a character from a series i’m not familiar with, please provide me with a reference(s)!!

thanks for reading!!!!

edit: i’ll be accepting payment via paypal!!!!!

oh yea for those that were interested in purchasing the bts x puma shoes you should checkout “koreanbuddy” its a korean shopping service and they respond very quickly. I can vouch for their legitimacy and they have very good rep

update: I have a custom referral link for koreanbuddy now so I’d appreciate it (ofc you don’t have to) if you guys would use it when/if you buy with them. Using my referral code also gives you a discount of their fee ^^

code: nochuie

Before anyone sends anymore asks in, please kindly read the blog’s description. And if you don’t feel like reading that, then please read this. The ask box is only open at this time for answers over technical difficulties. Any other asks will be disregarded until stated otherwise.

The issue at this time is over Tumblr resizing images (specifically Mod Bol’s) and making them smaller than they should be. We would like to know if there’s any way around this, to keep images the size they should be when an ask is answered.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and thank you for your patience with us.

5 thousand years later...

Icon commissions are open! They’ll probably say open for awhile, depending on how many I get

They’ll be $15 each, Paypal only! IM me on one of my blogs so we can discuss things like character, colors, etc. I’d like an upfront payment, thank you!

Proceeds will go towards my savings for college.

I will not draw anything nsfw, but since these are just head/shoulders, I’m willing to extend my range to include furries (uh no promises lmao I haven’t drawn animals in fifty years). Simple mechas (like tf2 bots) will cost an extra 2 dollars, and complicated mechas (like the transformer movies) will cost an extra 5 dollars.

Some examples below:

They’ll be on a black background like the last one unless you ask for a specific background color

Pepperony Week Day Five: Post-Civil War

Pepper had a list hidden away in a secret folder on her computer.  The title was a series of random letters and numbers achieved by closing her eyes and hitting eleven random keys.  Any hacker or burglar would write it off as junk and move on, or so she hoped.  Every couple of days she’d go into the folder and open the single file inside.

Reasons Why I Should Permanently Break Up With Tony

1: He’s completely unreliable.  He can’t shake bad habits and he can’t keep promises.

2: He’s full of himself.  Even when he’s saving people there’s this stink of arrogance like he thinks he’s owed something for it.

3: He hogs the bedsheets at night.

4: His idea of date night is making a Pepper sized suit and racing around the world.

5: David, the deputy director of R&D, is clearly interested in me and is a really sweet guy I’d be lucky to have.

6: He’s never going to stop being Ironman, which means he’s never going to stop risking his life, which means I’ll always have to fear for his life when he’s on missions.  

Keep reading

The Notebook

For most of your life you enjoyed the quiet and rarely found it. Living with a couple siblings and a set of very loud parents, there was constant noise in your life. However, what you hadn’t been prepared for was that when you got an apartment to yourself, that it would be too quiet. Music, white noise, sound machines—nothing created a productive work environment for you when you were home.

It caused you to grumble to yourself about how you paid rent and could barely work there because it wasn’t noisy enough. You needed the low hum of the coffee shop to run through your head and focus your mind on important matters. While probably any old coffee shop would do, your shop of choice was this little bakery down the road. So nearly every afternoon, you would gather all you needed to grade, and walked to the lovely little shop.

The ladies that worked behind the counter always greeted you with a smile and made your coffee perfectly. Depending on the day, you would get a snack for yourself and eat while you graded. The shop was always busy—especially since Mr. Harry Styles gave it the publicity it deserved in his One Direction movie. His picture hung behind the counter and they gushed about him whenever asked. You only moved into town within the last year, you’d never met Harry, but you did enjoy his music and you loved One Direction.

There was of course, always more people in the shop when they heard that Harry was back in town visiting his mum and family. They hoped and hoped that he would stumble into the bakery and they could finally meet him. While it did help your grading, it made it difficult for you to find a seat in the quaint little place.

You were glancing at your phone to check the time when you felt your foot kick something. Looking down, you scooped up the object that got in your way. It was a small notebook, with a brown leather wrap around it. Hiking your own bag further up on your shoulder, you untied the strap around it and pulled back the flap to open to the first page.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the notes for songs and a few doodles and scribbles. And at the bottom of the page was signed, –H. You slapped the leather shut and yanked the tie around it tight. Peering inside the shop window, you didn’t see Harry, but everyone was anxiously awaiting his arrival—staring at the door in hopes he would come back.

Because clearly, he was already here. You turned on your heel and headed back to your apartment. It was known how private, personal, and important Harry’s journal was and you didn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands because after figuring out who it belonged to, you had no intention of opening it again. Hurrying into your apartment you set the notebook on the coffee table and stared at it for a few moments. Your grading would have to wait; right now, you had to get this back to Harry Styles.


Harry sometimes wrote his dreams down as a possible idea for a new song. He woke up in the middle of the night and blindly reached over for his notebook. Not feeling the familiar leather-bound book on the nightstand, he quickly woke up with a start, realizing, he hadn’t seen his notebook since he went to the bakery earlier that day.

With a panic, he jumped out of bed and checked his messenger bag and he ran through the house checking every tabletop and surface as quietly as he could—so as not to wake his mum. Pressing his fingers around the bridge of his nose he inhaled as deeply as he could and tried to release all the negativity. It’s okay. The ladies probably found it. It’s nothing to worry about.

Except the ladies were closing the shop down for renovations for the next two weeks. Groaning, Harry put his head to his knees feeling dizzy and weak. There was so many personal things in that journal—all his secrets, songs he’s yet to write and people he’s loved and all the like. He was so incredibly sad and worried. Someone had the depths of Harry’s soul in their hands and they could break him so easily and they didn’t even know.


For the better part of that Saturday morning, you stared at the notebook sitting on the table. You went by the bakery—and found it was closed for the next two weeks. “Of course,” you muttered to yourself. You were sure the ladies would have gotten it back to him and now that hope was gone. The poor thing was probably so worried and you had no way of getting it back quickly to ease his worry. Finally, you picked the notebook up and shoved it into the cabinet that you locked—it was filled with personal financial documents and other important things.

The stack of papers that needed grading stared at you next and without the bakery to get to, you started in quickly—it would take a long time without the background noise you needed.


“Mum, I’ve looked everywhere,” he said and his eyes were sad and dark from not sleeping much. He was so worried about the person that found it and whether or not they were nice or if they were going to ruin his life.

Anne pouted and rubbed her child’s back. “I’m sure it’ll show up, love. You called the ladies at the bakery?”

He sighed. “They’re all on vacation due to renovations. They can’t even go look to see.”

She sighed. “Well, then you just have to hope that the person that found it is taking care of it.”

“Mum, it says who I wrote songs about and my plans for my next album and it’s so personal,” he face turned beet red in front of his mom as he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. He was so worried.

“Darling,” she whispered. “People are good.”

Harry shook his head. “Not when it comes to my privacy, Mum,” he reminded her. “I can’t trust anyone. I’m so worried,” he said.

Pouring him some tea, Anne wrapped his hand around the mug. “Well, you can trust me and I have hope that someone is taking care of something so personal.”


Listening to the phone ring through the line you took deep breaths. When the secretary answered with an automated response, you took a deep breath and swallowed with difficulty knowing that your question was bound to be hopeless. “Hi,” you said sweetly. “I know this is going to sound silly, but I really need to get in contact with Mr. Styles,” you said. “I believe I have something that belongs to him and I don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands—”

And while you would have continued, your question was returned with mocking laughter. “Are you serious?” You could hear her smirk. You swallowed.

“Yes, ma’am. I know it sounds silly, but I just want to get his belongings back to him, they’re really—”

“His contact information is privileged information. If you have a fan letter you can mail it—he’ll get to it eventually. Thank you for calling.”

“Wait, ma’am I’m—” But the line was already clicked off. Grunting in frustration, you threw your phone across the couch and glared at it. Logging onto Twitter you tried to see if you could find any information on getting in touch with Harry—or if anyone knew his notebook was lost. Part of you wondered if it was his and you were wasting your energy, but you just had to know if it was his and if you could get it back to him.

Right now, you had to get to school though and you could try and deal with it again at the end of the day.


“…and who remembers the acronym for trig functions?” You asked your class. All twenty students stared at you blankly. “I’ll wait. I know you know this. I’m a math teacher. And it’ll get a lot more awkward for you before it’s awkward for me.”

Snorting, one of your students raised their hand from the back of the class. “SOH-CAH-TOA.”

“Thank you,” you nodded respectfully at him as you wrote the words on the board.

“Miss,” a student said. “I know we’re doing math, but did you hear Harry lost his notebook?” You turned to the young girl near the front of the class. They all knew that you adored Harry Styles—especially after you played it in class in between passing time.

“Oh?” You replied. “Where did you hear that?” You asked curiously as you gathered papers to be passed out for the next activity.

“The info was leaked on Instagram. Someone asked him where it was because he looked proper rotten this morning and it looked like he was searching for something down by that bakery he used to work at.”

Dammit. “That’s very sad…but right now we have to learn how to use those trig functions so Harry will have to wait,” you said. “And please get off your phone,” you said staring at her with a pointed expression.

“Yes, ma’am.”


Harry was distraught. He kept tugging at his curly locks and he felt like he was losing his mind. How could he be so careless to lose it? And now the whole world knew it was gone and he got one million tweets about finding it and he wanted to cry. No one wanted to help him.

Searching all over the little town he wondered who could have found it and what kind of secrets they were sharing with the rest of the world. It broke his heart and he wanted to write about it but of course, he had nowhere to write it.


It had been a week since you found the journal and now your students were on holiday for the week so you had more time to figure out just how to get in touch with Harry. You had tried Twitter, but you knew no one would contact him.

So, taking a day of your vacation, you drove to the studio address and stopped at the secretary. You recognized her voice and knew this was a lost cause, but you had to try. It was for Harry. “Hi, I spoke with you on the phone, I have—”

“Harry’s notebook? Join the others,” she said jerking her thumb in the direction of the overzealous fans who were seated in the waiting area just hoping for a glimpse of Harry.

Sighing you left without another word. You stopped outside for a minute to glare up at the studio label and you were nearly shoved to the ground when a group of fans pushed by. You noticed there was a shiny black car pulling up and out stepped a long lanky body with frazzled curly hair. Feeling your feet carry you before you recognized it, you ran full force toward him. You were stopped suddenly and nearly knocked the wind out of you as a bodyguard stepped in your path. “Please, I’m not kidding, I just want to give him his notebook back.”

“Miss,” the bodyguard said. “Everyone has claimed to have it—”

“But I do!” You said in frustration. “I don’t care if I never speak to him again, I just want him to get it back.”

Harry glanced over at you and you looked so miserable. Of course there were twenty other girls starting right for him and Harry could only look at you a moment longer before he was hurried in the door. “I found it at the bakery,” you told the bodyguard. “It’s got a doodle on the first page of a flower with a long stem and some thorns on it and lyrics about it. It’s the only page I read because I saw it had “dash, H.” Signed at the bottom. You rushed out.

The body guard just shook his head. “I’m sorry ma’am,” he said and pushed you to the side as you felt tears of frustration grow in your eyes. You just wanted Harry to feel at ease and you could see it all over his face that he was not.

Glaring at the stupid label sign one last time, you turned on your heel, and started for your car. As you sat in the driver’s seat you slapped the steering wheel a few times and then you noticed Harry’s car was totally untouched.

Scurrying over quickly you left a note with your name and number and then left hoping to God he would come get his notebook.


Harry put on a brave face for his fans as they ambushed him in the studio lobby. They weren’t too aggressive and shortly after they admitted they didn’t have the notebook they left, their tail between their legs, but happy to have met Harry Styles.

When all were gone, Harry asked the secretary and the body guard about that one girl, the one that his bodyguard stopped and the one that left without meeting Harry. “What did she say to you?” He asked.

The body guard shrugged. “That she found it at the bakery and she was keeping it safe—just wanted to return it.”

That piqued Harry’s interest. “You do know I lost it at the bakery, yes?” He questioned. He saw the body guard falter and the secretary looked nervous.

“Well, you see sir, she seemed just like—”

Harry didn’t typically get angry at anyone that worked with him but he was so nervous and worried and he was mad. “What did she say?” He hissed. Stammering the body guard retold the story of how she said she found it. Read only the first page and it was doodled with a flower and lyrics about thorns. “OH MY GOD SHE HAS IT AND YOU LET HER GET AWAY!”

Harry ran outside and glanced around the street and looked for his angel in the dark coat. He first gazed at you because he saw you getting closer to him. And he did think you were pretty. You had on black leather boots that reached just below your knee and they clicked when you walked. You were wearing skinny jeans and a long black coat that cinched at your waist. He didn’t think you had his notebook though. Your face was so sweet looking, long hair swirled over your shoulders and your eyes looked so kind. He would do anything to see you again.

But now you were gone for forever. At least he knew his secrets were safe saying you only read the one page.

Harry felt the tears in his eyes burning and he just wanted to go home. So he headed to his car flipping the bird at his body guard because he was mad and while Harry was usually quite peaceful, even right now, he was just too upset.


You were staring at the notebook again, trying to figure out how to get it back to the owner and you realized you hadn’t thought about how quiet your apartment was in a while and you were able to get some work done while you waited for some kind of news of Harry contacting you.

Hopefully he would get your note but you thought you would have heard from him by now. The paper stack you had to grade was getting smaller and you hoped that he would come find your apartment soon. Sighing you relocked the notebook away and you went back to grading. Worst case scenario—you would take his notebook to your grave.


Anne was rubbing Harry’s back as he laid on the couch in utter defeat. His eyes were raw from crying and he wanted to throw up a little. He was this close and he lost his lead. “Honey,” she said. “If she tried that hard to find you, you’ll meet her again,” she whispered.

Sniffling, he shrugged. “I want to thank her at this point for not reading it,” he muttered. “The first page isn’t so bad—could be expected to find the owner,” he explained. “I’m so sad.”

“I know, baby. I know,” she sighed. “How about some tea?”

He shook his head. “I just want to be sad right now.”


The following morning, Harry was supposed to head to the studio and so he walked to his car and sat in the driver’s seat feeling empty without the notebook still. He rubbed the back of his neck and rested his forehead on the steering wheel as he tried to calm himself and just breathe.

He heard paper fluttering and he looked up in time to notice something stuck beneath his windshield wiper. Curious if he got a ticket while parked yesterday, he opened his car door again and plucked the note off.

In beautiful but slightly messy handwriting it said I promise I do have it and it’s safe. Please trust me. I just want you to have it back. And your address was written beneath it. As he drove directly to the address, he thought that he definitely should have told at least his mum where he was going—especially when he called after the studio rang her wondering if he over slept. Then his mum called and he just told her to tell them he was sick and that he was going to visit Niall.

When he drove past the bakery and it’s renovations, he wondered how he dropped it in the first place. He was extremely careful with the secretive notebook. It wasn’t meant to be in anyone’s hands but his own. Stopping outside the apartment complex, he pulled the hood around his face and walked up to the door. He dialed your apartment.

You were just finishing your yoga exercises when the ringing call interrupted savasana. Scrambling to your feet you nearly slipped on your yoga mat. Quietly, you called back. “Hello?” You said curiously.

Swallowing, Harry took a deep breath. “It’s Harry, I’ve come for my journal,” he said quietly. Speechless, you allowed the door to open. Your heart hammered in your chest and you wished you looked prettier than the sweaty mess you knew you looked like. There was a gentle knock on the door all too soon and you hurried to open it.

Compared to himself, he felt you were much shorter than he remembered. He thought you looked very sporty and pretty, dressed in yoga pants, a loose fitted shirt that slouched on your shoulder and your hair pulled back in a messy bun with a headband around your hair line. “Hi,” he smiled sweetly.

The anxiety wore off almost instantly as you took in the black skinny jeans and the plain white t-shirt. He was very close and smelled much too good. Swallowing nervously—now only because he was actually here in the flesh, in front of you—you gestured for him to come inside. He entered quickly and stood by the door as he waited for you to speak. “I’m really glad you believed me,” you said and grabbed the key off the wall. Harry followed you, and he has to say he admired watching your bum while you walked in front of him. Shoving the key in the cabinet lock you released his journal to him.

Tears filled his eyes at the sight. “You really didn’t read it?” He whispered. “I’ll just ask you to please never tell any—”

“Only the first page to figure out who the owner was,” you told him. “I’m a teacher, you see. So privacy is really important to me. I wouldn’t read anything I’m not supposed to,” you shrugged. “I was really worried you wouldn’t get to me,” you said softly and passed him his journal.

He sighed with relief as he held it. “I will never be able to thank you enough, love,” he said. “I was a wreck,” he said. “Thank you for keeping it safe,” he said kindly. “I promise I’ll write about you.”

“Oh,” you blushed and waved your hand at him flippantly. “It’s okay, I just really wanted to get it back to you,” you said again with ease.

The tears were filling his eyes still as he looked at it. “I can’t believe you didn’t sell it or take pictures or—”

Frowning, you reached out and rested your hand on her forearm. “Harry,” you said gently. He couldn’t look up at you and so he stared at your hand touching his forearm gently. It felt nice the way your thumb rubbed over his skin soothingly. “I can tell you’ve been hurt, a lot. It’s not fair, I know,” you said. “I would never want to hurt you,” you squeezed his arm softly. “I really admire you and I hate seeing you so upset like you did when you found it was lost.”

His cheeks were getting wet from the slow tears falling down his skin. You watched as his chest shivered with a silent sob and carefully you pressed yourself to his body. He dropped the notebook on the floor and wound his arms around your body and he crouched to your shorter frame so he could cry into your neck. “I was so scared,” he said. “That it would fall into the wrong hands and—”

“Shh, shh,” you whispered running your fingers through your hair. This may be Harry Styles you were comforting, but first and foremost you were an educator and you always took care of someone in need. “It’s alright, now,” you whispered.

He nodded against your skin. “I know, it is,” he whispered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said and he pressed his lips against your cheek. “You’re my angel,” he said and pulled back to look into your eyes. For everything Harry knew, he could believe in miracles and he knew that you were one, because when he looked into your eyes he couldn’t see anything but pure unadulterated selflessness. “Thank you,” he breathed again. He could feel a song being written in his soul as he gazed at you. The angel that kept all his secrets even though you didn’t know any of them.

Smiling kindly at him you nodded. “Of course Harry,” you answered. “No trouble at all…would you like some tea or do you have to get going?” You asked.

Harry really needed to leave, but how often do you meet an angel? “Tea would be lovely, angel,” he whispered. “I’ve got nowhere to be but next to you,” he grinned and when you turned to the kitchen he plucked his journal off the ground and quickly scribbled on the first free page he could find:

And you said, “Would you like to have some tea?”
I said, “I only have to be right here with you next to me.”


i’ve been messing around with a bnha oc for a while! basic info:

- her quirk activates whenever someone touches her skin. she can’t control it, so basically anyone who grabs her first gets their quirk mega!! superpowered!!
- she hates people touching her for the same reason
- she kinda just hates people, actually
- yui is in the same generation as all might, endeavor, etc when they were teenagers
- hero?? villain??? who knows??

marvelmaxx  asked:

I dont know a whole lot about your mob au yet but i saw you said grillby was in the military and i thought itd be cool if he was also sans' go-to intel guy? Hes a bartender, so he probably overhears a lot of shady conversations and things, right?

You and I think alike, my friend! In my headcanon, I also believe Grillby is the go-to intel guy whom Sans visits to gain inside infos. Though Grillby doesn’t actively collect them, he does get to hear good number of interesting conversations in his bar. :D

I was accepted as an ambassador for Hungary on @hetaliafandomhub! I was born and raised here all my life and I was pleasantly surprised when I found out that Hetalia has a character for my country, because we’re generally so overlooked. However, because we’re so overlooked in international context, there tend to be a lot of inaccuracies regarding APH Hungary in the fandom.

That’s why I decided to apply for ambassador, because there aren’t many Hungarians who’re active in the fandom that others can turn to for help. I’ll mostly act as a passive ambassador, which means I won’t be actively posting info about my country but if you have any questions, I’m here to answer them.

You can send me questions about culture, customs, history and language but please be specific! Don’t send such broad questions like “What’s life like in Hungary?”. If you want to know more about a certain thing, just ask that! I will try to answer everything to my best knowledge or at least try to give you some directions on topics I’m not well-versed in.

I will also answer questions about how accurate the canon aspects of APH Hungary’s character are. Honestly, I don’t really ship anything with her but you may ask my opinions on ships too. Those will be my most subjective answers though, so ask at your own risk. (Also, please censor the shipnames, so my answers won’t show up on the search pages!)

The only thing I will avoid 100% is politics. Dealing with them in real life riles up my anxiety enough, I do not want to have to deal with them on my anime blog too. So any kind of political questions will be ignored. (A quick google search can probably give you more up-to-date and detailed info on these topics than I could anyway.)

My tag for answered questions is Ambassador QnA.

sportacusisgay  asked:

Sometimes, sportacus has nightmares in the middle of the night and his airship plays soft music to calm his subconscious down so he doesn't wake up.

!!!!! Oh my goodness that is adorable! I love the idea that the airship is semi sentient / magical so it’s tuned into Sportacus’ physical, mental and emotional well being. Like in the middle of the night, it notices there’s a change in heart rate and brainwave activity. Pulling info from data banks suggests a nightmare is occurring.

It plays soft music or maybe even natural forest sounds, like the kinds he’d hear back at home, noting how the music helps calm down it’s charge on a subconscious level. Sporty, who had been squirming and brows knitted together relaxed and slipped back into normal sleep. 

There’s a pleased sort of hum in the ship as the music slowly lowers to background noise. 

When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 19

Part 19 - alright - this got kinda long, because otherwise it was going to be really short.  

Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  

Word count: 3824


For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Mentions of weapons, sexytimes (not explicit), a little angst (?), Tony being a controlling dumbass

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

“Seriously, Sam, I wouldn’t let him poison everyone here just to get you back for your little prank,” you assure him.

You wait until he takes a bite of eggs before commenting again.  “Or would I?”  Just to seal the deal you end with a smirk and a wink; Sam stops chewing; he looks like he wants to spit it out but also doesn’t want to be rude, so he all but swallows the mouthful whole from the looks of it.  Bucky manages to bite back his laugh but squeezes your knee under the table, and Steve looks between the three of you.

“That’s cold.  That’s really cold,” Sam deadpans, looking at you.  You just smile back sweetly as you take a sip of coffee.

“God help me, now there’s three of them,” Steve mutters into his glass of milk.

The sudden sound of yelling catches everyone’s attention – there’s someone at the front door.

Keep reading


Hello all!

This summer I am living on my own for the first time and could use some extra money for groceries and all that fun grown up stuff. So, I am opening commissions up again! Yay! I am open to most subjects although I do not draw NSFW (i will draw PDA just nothing explicit). If you want a work with multiple people or background ect we can work out a fair price in context with prices listed above.

my art tag is here if you want to check it out 

If you are interested please contact me  at!

Thank you!