Strikeface

Pookie can you tag your art better cause I wanna see it all tqq <3

ahhhh will do! i think i will put them under the tag "zoloft4nikto" from now! thank you too for wanting to see my silly art ;w;;;

hapy new year everynyan

i will take a small nap

Imagine my surprise when I've been listening to Mouthwashing video essays all morning and it isn't until I click one that's given by a woman that I hear about Anya’s assault??? All 4 other essays, WRITTEN BY MEN just COMPLETELY glossed over that and made it out that Jimmy's fear was fucking parenthood???

Nothing about him being afraid of the consequences of the rape catching up to him once they get back?? Nothing, even, about Curly protecting him and saying he'll be okay, putting him above Anya's health, safety and comfort???

Fuck. That!!

Your home is a sanctuary to Nikto.

His apartment is suitable. But it's not warm like yours. Loneliness is embedded in the cracks in the walls, the shadows that weep in the unlit rooms, the squeaky clean shower is stark white and smells too much of bleach. It's a house. A place he exists. Haunts. A place to rest his buzzing, busy head. Cold pillows and sheets biting chill into his hot skin. He seldom finds rest there. Sleep? Yes. But the rest never quite reaches him.

But with you? Your home, your sanctuary. That's where rest is.

nikto finds you asleep, your form curled up small on top of your freshly washed covers, and he just stops and watches you for a bit. His whole world slowing down to something soft and calm, the sight of you breathing peacefully all safe and warm, makes the home feel homier. Warm, safe.

Hes slow and heavy as he lugs on over to you, the mattress dipping as his weight seeps into it. Nikto hovers over you for a moment- hands smoothing over the winkles in your shirt, fingers dipping under your top to spread out upon your stomach. Feeling you breathe beneath his palm. Everything feels quiet. His head still and softly humming with the murmur of voices. Hushes. Content whispers.

Leaning down, like a big snuffling doberman, his nose presses into your cheek- into your hair. Inhaling and huffing contently. Your hair is still a little damp from the shower, and it smells so strongly of that yummy shampoo you use.

With a low, grumbling grunt, he settles besides you. Around you, like a shielding wall. He wraps himself around you, nudging a knee between your legs so he can entwine with you- somehow. You're smaller than him, much more fragile. Your skin is soft and untarnished, and you smell of gentle soap suds and warm fabric freshener. His muscles are tense and locked as he lays pressed against you. His stomach is hard and tense as it flushes against your back. He probably smells like rain and grey. Like cold and salt grit.

But you sweeten him. You always do.

mother nooooo sjjsjsjsjhsjsjsjshhshshs, i believe i can be rational sometimes 🙏🙏

i will stop drinking milk, it has done numbers on my skin

i Love how you draw nikto... he looks like hes flourishing and in his lane

wahh, and i too, love how you draw nikto, very shaped, very pleasing to look at!

please someone ask me to draw nikto's teeth

big things are coming

Study doodle