#oc tingz

[gummybugg]

Oh I gave a great idea! *breaks character's psyche into a million unsalvageable pieces with a baseball bat*

[valentine-serenade]

(OC x Vittorio doodles)

In but one of many worlds of possibilities, Amatus would attempt to run away from his controlling and loveless home, only to be taken into the Fog.

He would have surely been thrown into the Void if it weren’t for Vittorio’s caring soul pulling him from the brink of despair.

[cotton-candy-jester]

The silly thing about Aster and Hanabi is one is a subby top while the other is a dom bottom.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.

sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.

“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.

a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.

you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.

katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.

then your name was brought up.

at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.

he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.

you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.

you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.

you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.

“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.

“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.

you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.

“ow !”

“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.

“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.

when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.

you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”

he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.

“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”

you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.

[xynczachrome]

I offer spider peeps 🤲

[stardiscs]

anothrrr art trade for @hools !!

[cronchy-baguette]

the visdev stuff i did last year boinngnggg

[failbaby]

Roman literally all day at the shareholder meeting: I hate KENDALL he is nothing but an old selfish nasty dirty trashy mentally ill ugly crazy insane cokehead musty rat bitch and that’s all I’ll say about that!

Greg: he’s annoying

Roman:

[moonbiit-arts]

new shirt

[kremechihihi]

saw this jacket from a local fashion brand thats so QI core….but its like out of my budget so heres me coping by drawing it on them and by extension imagining what id look like wearing it…………

i did however impulse buy their two tone halter top and i cant wait for it to arrive soon….also drew that on QI

[gigglegoobers]

gadies and lentlemen, welcome 2 shitpost central pt. # AHUIHUIHUU on 2dayz segmenz: edzwurld n man bonding mument

(Long time no see ill destroy this blog)

[starrys0larissystem]

AND BAM , he has arrived y’all !

Pearl and his redesign have finally arrived and boy oh boy am i glad to have finally finished him !

so here’s a fun fact about his design that the people over on Insta don’t know ( at least not yet hehehe - ) this new version of Pearl has color-changing eyes and skin that change based on his mood and his surroundings . he has the typical changes like blue for sad , red for anger , green for disgust , etc . but he can also have color patterns based off when he’s in danger and other situations based on his well-being . here are some closeups of his design and i hope it was worth the wait !

[valentine-serenade]

So this is my Self-Insert Mary Sue Slut with 50 billion boyfriends-

Amatus is a sheltered ingénu who discarded his birth name, instead going by a moniker that would remind him that he was always worthy of love.

[nojaloart]

there’s that draw in spiderverse style thing going around and i thought this would be a fun lil practice gimmick except it turns out i like this a lot. oc beamification

[zozo-01]

"a shared name (and a little more than that)."

In honour of the fact that tattoos are hot as hell, I thought it be nice if we gave Sergi a little bit of angst. Gotta give my favourite werewoof some of my signature love on this blog!!!

The lovely Chelsea "Cherry" Roberts and tattoo design that started this fic belongs to talented @andr0leda and the amazing Sergi Stolyarchuk belongs to wonderful @barbwritesstuff!!!

[Also tagging @daveyistheloml because she is my number one Stan and I need to indoctrinate her to play the game, @gingerbreadmonsters , she too shall be indoctrinated and @ejunkiet who showed me this wonderful fandom to begin with!!!]

CW: Talks of survival guilt, Grief, Mentions of a major character passing, Fem! Alpha MC, Hopefully no fucked up formatting because we're posting this fic to AO3 ;--;

click here for the ao3 link!

--

How does one deal with being a ghost of their past? 

It’s something Sergi has been struggling with since that night. The night when Alek died and he lost his arm and everything went to hell. Where he lost the one constant in his life, the man he could count on. 

(He gained another constant at that same moment.)

He looks back to the days when he and Alek were less scarred, literally and metaphorically, by the world that had shaped them. Despite the two men being cousins, many thought them to be brothers, and in some cases, they thought they were twins. Sergi would argue that if they were twins, he would be the more attractive one. Alek just rolled his eyes at the older man’s confidence, but he never argued otherwise.

The boys never blamed anyone for the innocent mistake. For cousins, they looked uncannily similar. Thinking about that just brought Sergi more dread. 

They say blood doesn’t define family, but in the case of the Stolyarchuk boys, it bonded them together. Their very beings were created from the same stardust, tying them together on this plane of existence. Where one goes, the other is close behind, ready to defend each other against every threat they face. From bar fights to asking Minjo out on that first date, Alek was ready to drag his idiot older cousin from trouble and Sergi was ready to fight for his baby cousin.

 That’s what brothers do. 

The night that Alek had become Alpha, the two had gone out to get tattoos commemorating the event. A big night meant a big celebration, and what bigger one was there than a matching tattoo, some booze and ample hope for what the future will bring? After carefully reviewing their options (really it was Alek stopping Sergi from choosing the first tattoo he saw), they decided to get the others' wolf form, starting from the chest and trailing down their arms.

A silent promise was made that night. That Aleksandr would lead his pack into a bright and prosperous future (and make his big brother proud), and that Sergi will always be Alek’s right-hand man no matter what (and to keep his baby brother safe).

Unbeknownst to Alek, Sergi had a special request for his tattoo. If you looked carefully at the fur of the wolf’s neck, you can see little words hidden among the lines. Мој мали брат. My little brother. No matter where Sergi had gone, he would carry his little brother with him. 

(It’s a shame, really, that Chelsea will never get the chance to. He wanted to share every part of him and now part of him was missing.)

He lost that connection when his arm was ripped from his body, when his little brother was ripped from his life. The only physical reminder that he had of Alek was staring right back at him in the mirror.

To call his death an adjustment period would be a disrespect to the impact Alek had on the pack’s lives. It’s been months since the Blackwell attack, and even longer since the crash, yet everyone still looks at Sergi like he’s him. That because they share the same name or look eerily similar, that he has all the right answers. 

He doesn’t. He will never be half the leader Alek was, but that didn’t change how the pack couldn’t separate the two.

It won’t change the fact that Alek’s name will follow his when Marco asks Sergi to join in on pack fun. Before, Sergi would drag Alek to relax with his family. Now there wasn’t a scowling Alpha begrudgingly following him.

It didn’t change the fact that he could see Minjo’s eyes glistening under the light, wiping her own tears before anyone could see them fall. He knew that in her mind’s eye, her husband was playing with their kids, as it should be. 

It didn’t change the fact that JiAn and Nikolas Jr. have called him father. The children’s eyes were blurry and for a blissful moment, they forgot that their father’s funeral was weeks ago. Sergi was more than willing to provide that respite from grief, even if it amplified his own. 

As children, Alek and Sergi were brimmed with pride that they were forever intertwined. As a man, Sergi so desperately wanted to separate from his brother, an action he knew would be impossible. Even his own heart had forgotten where he ended and Alek began. 

Or should he say “had begun,” considering there was no Alek left for his magic to be weaved with? His death had left a void in its wake, an ever-present feeling (or lack thereof) that just felt wrong. It was a void that his wolf, his magic, his very being was so desperate to fill.

There was no more Sergi and Alek. 

Just Sergi.

And that was the loneliest outcome of all. 

He looks back up at the mirror, Alek’s ghost staring right back at him. He deserves it. To be eternally haunted by the brother he could not save. To be constantly reminded of the beloved father, husband and Alpha that he let die. For once in his life, he wishes that he didn’t resemble Alek as much as he did. That he could go back to being Alek’s cousin, not brother. Maybe then it would be easier for him to look at his reflection. 

(It wouldn’t. His own image has forever been tainted by the dead.)

If he focused, really focused, he could still see his right arm attached to his body. He could see the full wolf art of his late brother. And he could still see the little writing within the fur of the neck. Мој мали брат. It's a cruel twist of fate that the immediate moment Alek had died, Sergi’s tattoo to honour his brother was forcibly removed too. Almost like he wasn’t worthy of that joyful memory between the two, tainted like every other memory that he held precious. He’d be inclined to believe that to be the case. 

Sergi wasn’t a man who usually shed tears, but in that bathroom, he clutched his head and as he cracked under the pressure of the weight of Alek’s memory. Was it so much for a man to want his brother back? Please? If there was a God out there, wouldn’t He be kind enough to grant this simple wish? (Sergi knew he should have prayed more when he was younger.)

There was a soft tap against the door and it dragged Sergi out of his pool of misery. (She was making it a habit to save him from drowning.) 

Shit, he thought that Chelsea was already asleep when he got up. Had he woken her up? Ruined her sleep because he couldn’t swallow down his pain as he should?

“Sergi, can I come in? Or are you gonna come out soon?” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, not the usual Alpha voice she has started to use around the pack. But rather the love-filled tone that was reserved for him and him alone. Forgive him for being a little wolf-like, but knowing that only he was privy to her more carefree yet loving side did wonders for him.

He sighed, washing his face to get rid of his weakness. “Yeah, Cherry Baby, I’m coming out.” He placed his hand and took a deep breath, composing himself before he saw her. He didn’t need to dump more shit on her than she already carries. He opened the door, his dark brown eyes meeting her kind gaze. His wolf howled at the sense of peace she brought him.

safesafesafesafe

Ain’t this a pretty sight? Sergi Stolyarchuk howling because of a person he loves. The things Chelsea did to him were indescribable, not like he’s complaining. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his collarbone. “Everything all right? You’ve been in there for a while and I heard some sniffling.” Of course, she heard him there. Forgetting the fact that she’s an Alpha, she’s also a wolf with better hearing than most of the damn planet.

He buried his face in her hair, trying to put together an excuse that’ll satisfy Chelsea’s need to take care of everyone (though she argues as Alpha that it’s her duty to), and make sure he wasn’t lying to her. Sergi repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, willing for some words to leave his mouth, knowing every silent moment made her more worried. He started to shake in her arms, trying to hold back the floodgate of emotions to pour out of him.

Before he could say anything, Chelsea rubbed her hands up and down his bare back. She maneuvered herself so that she could hold Sergi’s face in her hands and looked him in the eye. “If you don’t wanna talk now, that’s ok. But I am here for you, always and forever.”

‘Safe. Sergi.’ Her wolf cried out to him. ‘You’re safe with me and you won’t get hurt, not if I have anything to say about it. As your Alpha and as your lover, nothing will bring you pain while you’re in my arms, not for as long as I have a pulse and a heart hellbent on protecting you.’

Oh, the hold this woman has on him. He wouldn’t change it for the world.

He smiled and rested his forehead against hers, the single most devoted gesture that a wolf can do for their mate. (Mate, huh? He never thought he’d be the type to get a mate, but if it’s Chelsea then he’d choose her a hundred times over, in every lifetime.) “Thank you, Chesna. For everything you do for me,” he choked out through his tears.

She used both hands to cup his face, wiping his tears and bringing him closer for a kiss. Kissing Chelsea may be the greatest experience that there was ever to exist. Flying to the moon or winning a championship may produce incomparable euphoria, but there were multiple rings to win or space missions to be had. 

There was only one Chelsea Roberts to kiss. One Chelsea with her cherry lips and her rosy cheeks that flushed when she got embarrassed. One Chelsea and her authoritative smirk that he was madly obsessed with kissing off her face. One Chelsea who looked and held him like he was the most precious and beautiful star in the night sky, despite the scars and bruises that marred his body.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she said as she kissed the scar where his right eye should be. “Your scars are beautiful because it’s proof that you’re alive and here. That you survived through hell and came out with a smile.” She spent the rest of that night kissing and complimenting his body. It’s a night he reminisces about when he’s feeling his lowest.

There was one Chelsea Roberts and Sergi Stolyarchuk had the honour of calling her his. What a lucky bastard.

She pulled away from the forever-too-brief kiss, giggling at his pout when she didn’t lean in for another one. “All right there, loverboy. Let’s head back to bed” – she gently pushed him at his suggestive expression – “and get some sleep. Actual sleep.”

He laughed at her adorable and exasperated expression, letting her drag him back to their bed. His heart felt full knowing that he was able to share himself at his most vulnerable moment and that Chelsea could do the same. For two guarded people, any step taken with trust and love in mind made him giddy. 

The two wolves slid under the covers and faced each other. Chelsea smiled, thumbing the scar over his right eye and looked at him with all the love she could muster. It was a slow process, he is a stubborn bastard, but he was slowly accepting the fact that he was worthy of the look. She made him feel like he was worth a second look of adoration.

It was all too much for him, but the good kind. The kind of ‘too much’ that makes your heart sink because of how full your heart feels.

Choking on his utter love and devotion and admiration he has for her, he managed to tell her, “I love you, Chesna.”

Her eyes widened, and she stopped herself from denying his feelings for her. He hated that. That there was a part of Cherry that would always be shocked to hear that, like she hasn’t heard it before a thousand times. No matter, he’ll always be here to remind her how his magic sang for her.

With shy eyes and a beautiful smile, she repeated back to him, “I love you too.”

Both of their wolves howled in sync, overcome by the connection the two had for each other.

lovelovelovelove

Chelsea guided his head to lay on her chest, playing with his hair and singing a lullaby from when she was young. With every note the woman let out, Sergi fell deeper and deeper into a sleep.

Before he could fully enter the realm of dreams, a final thought crossed his mind like a shooting star.

The night he lost his constant in Alek, he gained another one through Chelsea. And whatever stardust created him, he was certain that she was from that same nebula, and that connection would bind them together for the rest of their time on this plane.

He never thought he could picture a future without his brother. He was certain that whatever dreams he had would revolve around him.

 He dreamt that night about a future with his lover. 

[xynczachrome]

Elemental of Forcefield