you’ve been watching underground you say? i’d love to see how you’d draw the hog family 🥰

I FORGOT ABOUT ALEENA

Another quick drawing from last night

imagineee ellie w reader who loves to do her makeup n she just staring at you like a lil puppy in awe

ellie is just so engrossed in the process that she can't help but be a little handsy. ౨ৎ

her shoulder kissed to the door trim, slanting against it a mere foot from you at best, a looming pest over your shoulder— snaking her foot out to prod your ankle with it, mumbling n' chuckling, "what eyeliner you going for?" cause, i think she's pretty used to watching you. watching the dance of wrist and finger, stick and plume, powder and cream— observing the slow metamorphosis of natural into painted, adoring every flick and every stroke, tries to join in too. "d'you want some color here," her collarbones cave over the jut of your shoulder, her bicep warm to your chest as she ghosts the plumage of a fat blush brush, "or here?" she tilts her rasp. "els', that's a blush brush, and you are not applying eyeshadow to—" you tuck your chin and slink from the ticklish bristles, only to be piloted with her cold fingerprints pressing around the plum of your chin, "babe—" her low tone buzzes, "know' what m'doing." the pressure given on your jaw steering you yonder to stare at her, bemusedly, blank canvas eyes, but goddess-damned does her concentrated, pursing brows carving little lines 'tween them, heady mix of fern and gold flecks in her eyes, small tip of her coral tongue gliding through her lips and sticking out the side, wriggle of her mud stippled nose pulling with the tug of her cheeks fattening a smirk, all those damned things you love. who could say no? not me, not you, not us. ellie being thickly diligent and fixated hard on your bend of face, stroking it featherily, legit hunched at her spine all to replicate your art on face— is so goddamn cute, brushing the plume across your cheeks. "there." hummed nasally, and when you flip a look into the mirror, you're proud. your little auburn artist has made you something of a practiced canvas, albeit a little funky-going with the blush brush, but thank mother nature and the celestials above that she actually chose a shade of eyeshadow barely pigmented and shaded correctly to mimic a humble blush right to your skintone. and of course the split second your lips curl and allow the honeyed push of, "fuck, els, that looks goo—" to fall from them, her nose is already being smushed up against the space of cheek-to-ear, wetting a kiss upon your baby hairs, cockily replying, "yeah yeah, told you i knew what i was doin." and hooking a finger in your belt loop, yanking your hips an inch closer— only to be playful.

she can do my makeup w those bare hands idc massage them in my cheeks queen both of them