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#finger hearts
sawyersawyer · 2 months
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finally finished frankie stein! aren’t they pretty? (≧◡≦) ♡
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shmoo06 · 7 months
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heart hands - the struggle is real
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sleeplessinkdramas · 2 years
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First episode
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We really started and ended with the finger hearts😭😭😭🤧🤧🤧
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gifs-for-reference · 1 year
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greykolla-art · 19 days
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have you seen this art? it reminds me so much of your radiorose drawings!!
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Oh HECK YEAH!🤩
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hyunpic · 3 months
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just hyunjin and his mega burrito
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viveela · 4 months
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A style comic I just had to get out of my system
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kiashieart · 1 year
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you try to hide it. hidden it in plain sight. your heart on your sleeve, boiling over as it drives you forward
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honeyglas · 4 months
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Merry Christmas. More reign from @infamous-if <3
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gummi-ships · 6 months
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Kingdom Hearts & Kingdom Hearts 2 Spooky Heartless
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bb-ants · 4 months
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Mortal Kombat Short | Smoke Detektor
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nomazee · 16 days
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EVENT TIME EVENT TIME
how about.. 4:44am & dr. ratio? 🫡
AUGHH THANK U GWEN i lvoed writing ths..... first time writing dr ratio be gentle on my fragile soul
my 1k event!
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
When Doctor Veritas Ratio walks into his very-private, very-locked, very-secluded study, he’s greeted with the unfortunate sight of you—sitting on the floor, an easel with a wide canvas set up low to the ground, oil paints sprawled absolutely everywhere. 
“What the hell are you doing?”
A sheepish smile pulls at your face, as if a sweet expression will get you out of the mess you’ve made of Ratio’s personal space. It’s far too late— late? Too early? Regardless. The hour of the night-slash-morning that you’ve decided to paint in his room is not appropriate at all. 
“I can explain,” you say, followed by a complete lack of an explanation as the two of you stew in silence for another half a minute. 
“Why are you even awake at this hour?” Ratio scoffs, stepping around you and your hazardous art set-up as he places some irrelevant stack of books on his (thankfully untouched) desk. “You should’ve been in bed a long time ago. Soon you’ll experience delirium from lack of sleep.” 
“Oh, please,” you argue, swatting a hand in his general direction playfully as you turn back to your canvas. It’s full of nauseating color, clear shapes and lines that don’t blend together in the slightest, vague animal-like forms that overlap with each other. “You’re awake too, aren’t you? Unless I really did hit delirium, and you’re just some Veritas-ghost floating around in my subconscious.” 
Ratio does not get a kick out of your very funny joke. An annoyed huff escapes him, tainted with something like weariness and exhaustion. Your eyebrow twitches. 
“And to answer your first question,” you prattle on, mindlessly scrubbing dried paint from the side of your hand with a wet rag, before picking up a fan brush, “I’m painting. This room is really well-ventilated, which is nice, because it would be a shame if all the fumes got to my head and zapped away my few remaining brain cells.” 
That one gets a laugh out of him, probably because it’s at the expense of your own intelligence. 
“There are a hundred other rooms that are exactly the same as mine,” he argues, finally turning away from his pointless shuffling of materials on his desk and facing you, looking at you while he talks to you—you know, like a normal person would. “There was no reason to infiltrate my own private study for your… painting. The door was locked, too. How did you—” 
“Don’t ask silly questions, Veritas,” and you like the way each consonant of his name clicks against your lips and teeth and tongue, “I have my ways. Does it bother you that I’m defiling your good room with my frivolous fine arts endeavors?” 
“Ridiculous,” his face screws up in displeasure at your assumption that he’d be so elitist to deny you of your passion. He walks around your spread of supplies again, carefully, before kneeling by your side to watch you work. As much as he’s loath to admit, you’re one of his few soft spots, and it shows in the way he traces the lines of your paint with his gaze, and the fact that he has yet to kick you out of his room. “The humanities are just as important as any other field.” 
“Spoken like a true scholar,” you quip, trying to hold back the shakiness of your hands and the swaying of your body. It really is too late for this, but you’d slept through the day and felt much too awake by midnight. Setting up camp in Ratio’s room was a natural instinct. 
“Go to bed,” he says, commanding yet gentle as he tugs a paintbrush from your hand. He doesn’t touch your hands, never really does, but he’s gathering your scattered, wrung-out tubes of paint and the little containers of linseed oil hidden under the easel. “It does neither you nor your artwork any good to be exhausted.” 
“I’m not even tired!” you complain, dragging out your words in a whine as he nudges you with his foot in a wordless command to stand up. There’s something like a cot in the corner of his room (because he does sleep, sometimes, and often it’s between textbooks and files and loose leaf paper) and a cozy patterned blanket that’s definitely yours. 
“You will be tired the second your head hits the mattress.” 
“This is a really awful mattress, Ratio.” 
“Don’t complain,” and his tone is harsh but you know he doesn’t mean it, because he’s pushing you back onto the little sleeping corner and tucking you into the blanket, nothing short of kindness in his hands. “You still have to clean your mess in the morning.” 
Sure, you think, already drifting off. By the time you wake up, you know that your mess will be packed away in a neat pile, floor wiped clean and canvas propped safely against the wall.
—°+..。*゚。*゚+.*.。.—
gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin
fill out my event taglist (pinned) or my general taglist (navigation) to be tagged in upcoming works!
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rarainks · 2 months
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happy valentines yall 🩵
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kenas-artstuff · 1 year
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Finally getting some rest
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