#are you sketching your gf

[canisalbus]

hey there!! i'd been checking this blog for a while, and I really wanted to say you're a great source of inspiration haha! I really love your dog characters and your lore! The amount of research and dedication is really amazing!! about ludovica's gf, do you mind if I come in with my vision as well? I think she'd be a really fluffy dog, maybe with curly hair. so my mind went to the portuguese water dog; but then i thought of two versions: long hair and short hair. so i drew both (tried my best to make her look like a lady and not a grandpa haha)

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[kawoid]

awkward nerds

[chalkanthit]

Finished three more Pages, yay!

[sadclownvibez]

:0 semi realism???!?!?!?

[n3arell-art]

i guess i’m dreaming again, let’s be more than this ♡

[wayfinderships]

Good morning gamers! Hope you all have an amazing day today!

Y'know what I think is amusing? That two peppermint posts of mine are at the front of my blog- Good for her!! <3

[strawbbybnuuy]

This is the most normal I’ve felt in weeks. Perhaps I can try drawing. Or will the brain fog fucking GET me

[leviiackrman]

JORDAN PARKER + JOSH WASHINGTON - "let go of the illusion that it could have been any different"

template by my beloved @marivenah

tag list (ask to be added or removed): @risingsh0t @sstewyhosseini @chuckhansen @statichvm @roofgeese @unholymilf @florbelles @confidentandgood @detectivelokis @jinfromyarikawa @simonxriley @queennymeria @marivenah @denerims @arklay @shellibisshe @nokstella @noonfaerie @liurnia @indorilnerevarine @jacobseed @jackiesarch @heroofpenamstan

[kawoid]

[hivemindclown]

HE WASN'T GOOOOOD ENOUGH FOR HERRRRRRRRR

[heyitslapis]

Imagine if that kiss caused the other aquamarines to kiss.

Theyre like time for a SMOOCHIN PARTYYYYYY

[bberetd]

caption this

[vi-steponmeplease]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ loser!gf ellie

synopsis: just some random headcanons about what it'd be like to date loser ellie who's js so obsessed with you.

notes: never made any headcanon posts before, so don't mind the setup lmao i have no clue what i'm doing

tw: mostly fluff but there are some smutty hcs (oral — e!receiving)

✧₊⁺ to begin with, ellie defo prefers cozy 'netflix n chill' date nights over dressing up for fancy dinners.

✧₊⁺ cuddling up on the couch with you is something that never fails to make her heart swell, no matter how long you’ve been together.

✧₊⁺ but mostly because it gives her a chance to imagine what domestic life with you might be like—though she’d never admit it, afraid it might seem like she’s moving too fast.

✧₊⁺ she’s a sucker for resting her head on your chest while you thread your fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp as the two of you watch some cringey movie you’ll inevitably fall asleep to halfway through.

✧₊⁺ on the rare nights you don’t doze off, ellie grabs her brown acoustic guitar adorned with spongebob stickers and serenades you with a gentle melody while you rest your head on her shoulder.

✧₊⁺ when you’re out with friends, ellie—being the absolute dork she is—seizes the opportunity to practice tricks on her scratched-up skateboard, determined to one day impress you with her skills (even though she can barely land a kickflip without bruising herself)

✧₊⁺ when she eventually heads home with fresh scratches and deep purple bruises on her arms and knees, she does her best to patch herself up and cover them with makeup, hoping you won’t notice.

✧₊⁺ walking around town with ellie is always chaotic, as she can’t help but scream with excitement at the sight of every cat she sees.

✧₊⁺ bonus points if she’s eating chips—she’ll immediately tear open the bag and try to feed the poor animal junk food, no matter how much you explain it’s unhealthy. she just wants the cat to be happy and fed.

✧₊⁺ speaking of cats, she's defo the type to snap 0.5 pictures from every angle, proudly maintaining an entire folder dedicated to her feline encounters.

✧₊⁺ you got her a dino necklace for her birthday, and she’s never taken it off since.

✧₊⁺ ellie also has a whole mini-figure collection of the reptile and loves sending you pictures of two dinos kissing, always captioning them with: us!!

✧₊⁺ this girl lets nothing—absolutely nothing—distract her from a videogame. but the moment you so much as call her name, she’s running to you like a stray dog that just found its owner.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, you sit on her lap as she plays, watching her screen and asking the silliest questions. she always answers with a smile and a soft kiss on your cheek.

"what about there? would you die if you went inside that room?" you ask, your arms draped around her neck as you tilt your head to get a better view of her game.

she chuckles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw before fiddling with the joysticks. "judging by the fact that it’s pitch dark in there, i’d say… probably, yeah."

✧₊⁺ the room eventually falls silent, her focus fully locked on the game. but when she glances down a few moments later, she finds you fast asleep, your head resting on her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile.

✧₊⁺ you’ve never seen a room as messy yet effortlessly aesthetic as ellie’s. somehow, the clutter only adds to her charm and uniqueness.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, as you sit on her bed scrolling through your phone in comfortable silence, ellie sketches little drawings of you.

✧₊⁺ by now, her sketchbook is filled with portraits of you—you’ve become her muse.

✧₊⁺ she used to get shy about showing you her artwork, hesitating before every reveal. but after seeing your excitement over one piece, she proudly gave you a full tour of her sketchbook, secretly basking in the joy of being the reason behind that pretty smile of yours.

✧₊⁺ one time, ellie asked you to press your lipstick-stained lips onto a piece of paper, saying she wanted to create something abstract.

✧₊⁺ that moment quickly escalated into her kissing you with urgency, her lips trailing heated breaths down your neck and collarbone. before you knew it, you were lying on your back, clothes discarded on the floor, as she devoured you like a prisoner savoring a last meal.

✧₊⁺ ellie had never tasted pussy before, but she didn’t need any frame of reference. she’ll always insist yours is the best she could ever have.

✧₊⁺ she’s a soft dom, big on praise—even when you’re the one between her legs.

ellie’s head falls back against the wall, a low groan slipping from her lips as your tongue flicks against her clit. you wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, watching her face contort with pleasure.

“fuck, baby. just like that,” she grunts, her hand threading into your hair and tugging gently to bring you closer. “you’re doing so good.”

✧₊⁺ in the end, ellie is just a hopeless loser who’s madly in love with you and would do anything to make you happy.

[safo98]

❗️❗️❗️‼️

This is our situation

We are out of breath from the smell of firewood to make a meal🥺

We cann't bear it and the situation is getting worse

The price of gas is

890€

and it is difficult to obtain it🥺

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @raelyn-dreams@inkxplashes @ragtoons @blackcherri-stuff @ajloun @stuckinapril @heritageposts @feluka-blog-blog @malcriada @queerstudiesnatural @rizzyluke @determinate-negation @cockworkangels @theredfields @craftykittyscientist @dustoftheancients @phoenix-awan @neogotchi @the-butter-churner @godspersonalclown @elyserie @glassoddity @the-ballerina-battle @mydearalandro @batricity @floof-ghostie @taffywabbit @official-ducktown @cathyac @sketching-shark @rosengine @deadauthorssociety @thecrimeofmans-laughter @vampthropologist @good-old-gossip @inkatesbush @fishfingersandscarves @shoutyourporpoise @cuntbrow @thetrickyjokester @claudia-lioncourt @dimplesandfierceeyes @mortalityplays @mar64ds @belleandsaintsebastian @kordeliiius @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @star-anise @rainbowywitch @marscollection@fairuzfakhira @ibtisamsa @fallahi @sar-soor @plomegranate @nabulsi @sayruq @palipunk-blog @cheezbot-rip-off-blog @northgazaupdates2 @stil-macher @queerstudiesnatural @bluebellsinthedells @palestine @rizzyluke @self-hating-zionist @thenewgothicromance @raelyn-dreams @unfortunatelyuncreative @licencetokrill-blog @jezebelgoldstone @ramelcandy @petracourtjester @labutansa @sammywo @autistwizard @tortiefrancis @sparklinpixiedust @feluka @revcuse@rainbowywitch @marscodes @oursapphirestar @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @boyvander @the-bastard-king @13ag21k @agentfascinateur @marnotrawstw-o @shellofashadow @a-shade-of-blue @appsappsapps @neptunerings @stuckinaprill @unfortunatelyuncreative @malcriada @heritageposts @determinate-negation@90-ghost @el-shazam @nabulsi @sar-soor @sayruq @queerstudiesnatural @appsa @communistchameleon @fairuzfakhira @neptunerings @just-browsings-world @appsa @akajustmerry @feluka @marnotrawna @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vivisection-gf @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @kordeliiius @brutalitybaby @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @violetly @the-bastard-king @tamaytka @4ft10tvlandfangirl @northgazaupdates2 @skatehani @awetistic-things @nightowlssleep @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @friendshapedplant @mangocheesecakes @commissions4aid-international@90-ghost @paper-mario-wiki @nabulsi @prisonhannibal @gaza-evacuation-funds @beepiesheepie @walcutt @schoolhater @commissions4aid-international @sar-soor @zigcarnivorous @tododeku-or-bust @turtletoria @brutaliakhoa @flower-tea-fairies @schoolhater @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @sayruq @appsa @omiteo777 @malcriada @neptunerings @bat-luun @kaneverse @nightowlssleep @staretes @friendshapedplant @soon-palestine @aria-ashryver @heritageposts @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog @khanger @kordeliiius @mazzikah @feluka @dlxxv-vetted-donations @girlinafairytale @a-shade-of-blue @vakarians-babe @babygoatsandfriends @self-hating-zionist @mangocheesecakes us@ankle-beez @vampiricvenus @boobieteriat @prisonhannibal @sealsdaily @rickybabyboy @sayruq @valtsv @komsomolka @marxism-transgenderism @teaboot @chokulit @ot3 @90-ghost @apas-95 @punkitt-is-here @tamamita @omegaversereloaded   @feluka @skipppppy   @paper-mario-wiki @xgoldenlatiasx @memingursa @certifiedsexed @evillesbianvillainarchive @nothingbizzare @skunkes @wolfertinger666 @starspilli @taffybuns🥺🙏

[siriuslylantsov]

through your eyes i see, a smile you bring to me

matt murdock with sculptor!gf who makes a sculpture of him because she wants to have matt see himself through her eyes.

sculptor!gf who has him sit for a few hours, she thinks its a tortuous process as she takes rough sketches, pictures from different angles, and carves out the main areas of his face into the clay but he doesn't mind–he focuses on her breathing and the beat of her heart as he meditates.

it's made over the next days, in a little studio where sculptor!gf works tirelessly. it has to be perfect.

“don't sacrifice your style for my sake,” matt says one day when she tells him about how tedious it is to smooth out the clay. he knows that when she usually sculpts, it's rough, patches of clay pressed over each other in textured harmony. “you won't be able to feel it then,” she murmurs distractedly, hunched over her workspace. “it doesn't matter, angel. it’s your eyes isn't it?” he counters and she begrudgingly concedes, she hides her smile and he can feel it in the way she bites into her lip.

she doesn't know how far his sight goes, if she can even call it that. does he know what he looks like? is he only able to picture himself from before the accident? when he was a child? does he feel his face like he carefully did hers when she walked him up to his apartment after a night out with foggy and karen? she plans to ask him these things later, she still has so many questions about his situation but for now this will do.

when it's finally finished and she presents it to him, she's a nervous wreck. he can hear the way her heart races as she sets it down on his coffee table. the way her muscles strain slightly tells him the piece is heavy and he thinks about how she carried it all the way over to his place, his lips curling into a small smile. he pats the seat beside him for her to sit.

he reaches out to the mass he senses in front of him, hands settling over what he assumed was his hair. to be fair the texture did make it difficult to feel but it was clear that he passed over the swoop of his hair when he did. his fingers trail lower and she watches intently as they purposefully skim over his forehead, then his eyebrows, over the bridge of his nose. they part as the drag over the highs of his cheeks and down to his jaw where the dried clay replicates his scruff that she oh so admires. one hand drops down to her knee where he caresses lightly in appreciation and the other curls around the back of the sculpture's neck, thumb hooking around under his chin. 

he pauses there, noting the placement of a scar, right above his adam's apple, where a line of raised skin used to reside, now less prominent due to time passed but there nonetheless. his thumb passes over it a few times, recalling how when he first met her that cut was fresh–he’d never have known stumbling half-dead into her art studio months ago would have led to this and god was he grateful for whoever beat him up that night. 

she leans her head against his shoulder, also thinking what he was. she presses a kiss into his shirt, “do you like it?”

“yeah. i really do,” he whispers earnestly, “thank you.”

she lifts from his shoulder to hold his face, similar to how he was with the mound of clay but with infinitely more care. “i don't think i could ever replicate how perfect you are,” she matches his tone, a little sad. it makes her sad that he’ll never truly be able to see himself but it’s ok, she’ll be there to tell him–and show him–for however long she can. 

for @neverthatsirius-jo (my fellow mattie enthusiast)

[n0vazsq]

Pretty Boy | LN4 x Reader

pairing . . . lando norris x gf!artist!reader

summary . . . While you're sketching a drawing of Lando, you notice that something's off with him. Then, you remind him that he's much more than what people think of him

request . . . no!

word count . . . 759

warnings . . . none! just one use of 'damn'

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . first lando fic!!! a bit short but i hope you guys like it <33

. . . The room smelled like salted caramel and the leather of the couch you were currently sitting on. Lando sat across from you, sat on the arm of the chair, one leg bouncing restlessly. The glow from his phone lit up his face every few seconds, softening the sharpness of his jawline, but it didn’t hold his attention for long. He set it down after scrolling aimlessly, leaning back with a sigh.

"You know," you started, stretching out your legs, "you really need to learn how to sit still. You’re stressing me out."

He flashed you that damn grin, the one he knew you hated for how effortlessly it made you forgive him for everything. "You sound like my engineer," he laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Maybe I should be," you shot back, holding up the sketchpad in your lap. "You’re not exactly making this easy for me."

His eyes flicked to the page, and he tilted his head, squinting slightly. "That’s me?"

"Who else do you think I’ve been sketching this whole time? Your mum?"

Lando grinned, leaning in closer to get a better look. His hair was slightly messy, still damp from the shower he’d taken earlier, and you could smell the faint trace of his shampoo as he hovered over your shoulder. "Not bad," he said with mock seriousness, tapping his chin. "You almost got my nose right."

You turned your head, glaring playfully. "Almost? You’re lucky I even attempted that ski slope you call a nose."

He pretended to be offended, leaning back dramatically, a hand on his chest. "Ski slope? That’s rich coming from someone who-" He cut himself off, laughing at your raised eyebrow.

"Go on," you urged, smirking now.

"Nah," he said, still laughing as he settled back into the chair. "You’re not worth the fight."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Lando had this way of lighting up a room without even trying, of making you feel like the only person who mattered when he turned that adorable charm your way. It was infuriating, really.

But tonight, something about him seemed quieter. The usual spark in his eyes was dimmer, and the edges of his grin didn’t reach as far.

"What’s going on with you?" you asked, setting the sketchpad aside.

He shrugged, looking down at his hands, which were fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"About....?"

He hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek before finally meeting your gaze. "You ever feel like… I don’t know. Like people only see what they want to see when they look at you?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Where’s this coming from?"

He shrugged again, more defensively this time. "It’s just… I don’t know. Everyone’s always saying stuff, you know? About me. Pretty boy this, golden boy that. Like that’s all I am."

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. "You know that’s not true, right?"

"Isn’t it?" he countered, his voice softer now, more uncertain.

"My beloved Lando." You said his name like it was the answer to a question he didn’t want to ask. "You’re so much more than what people say. You’re brilliant, and kind, and funny, annoyingly so, actuall. You care about the people around you more than you probably should."

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you with this look that made your chest tighten.

"I don’t see some ‘pretty boy,’" you continued. "I see you. The real you. And if other people don’t, that’s their loss. But just saying, you are pretty."

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "You’re too good at this whole therapy talk thing, you know that?"

You smirked, leaning back against the couch again. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep your ego contained."

He laughed then, the sound breaking through the tension like sunlight through a cloud. And when he looked back at you, the spark in his eyes was there again, faint but unmistakable.

"Thanks," he said simply.

"For what?"

"For being here. For being… ," He took a deep breath, arms raising and falling, like he was trying to cut the air. "You.”

Your smile softened, and you shrugged. "Someone’s gotta put up with you."

He laughed again, shaking his head. "Lucky me, huh?"

And in the glow of the room, with the soft hum of the music in the background, you thought maybe you were the lucky one.