What Is Lexapro?

it came to me in a dream

my goal is to draw 100 niktos

current nikto counter: 22/100

art tag: #zoloft4nikto

my procreate brushes

non-nikto side-blog: @ritalinblisterpack

my partner is only 40 but nestled within him is the soul of an elderly man

Sketches of Vladimir

keep fighting dear bees, you got this 🤝💪🍀✨🌻

i think i am having an art block

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.

having a crush on someone makes me want to take a step back and reconnect with nature man, please pray for me during this hard time

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!

I keep reading balaclava as baklava 💔

"Nikolai had shattered Yegerov's friend's skull with the wrench propped up against the wall nearby. The blood had spattered up his bare torso, matting his chest hair, stained the side of his face. Shirtless, with a buzzcut he hadn't worn since his time in the Russian Air Force, he looked every part the madman he had become."

From this fic by @on-a-lucky-tide

As you can see, the image staid with me.

Alternate versions ( No blood, Nik with hair, lineart) under "keep reading" ⬇️​⬇️​⬇️​