#inspiration really is a neat thing

[amelia-yap]

TUMBLR USER AMELIA-YAP. POINTS

I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT YER ART IS SO COOL AND AWESOME AND SUPER EXPRESSIVE AND SMART AND PRETTY AND CUTE AND EEEE ALL THE BEST VIBES <3333

YER ART IS A HUGE INSPIRATION TO MEEE THANK YE FER ARTING HEHEHE 💙💙💙💙

I HOPE YE HAVE A GREAT DAY!!! :3

//◕_◕ )👉👈

[technolilly]

This is the funniest comment I've ever seen everyone else go home

[unfinishedslurs]

life and death (steddie)

this one is inspired by this fanart by lazylittledragon of Steve and Eddie as Life and Death having dinner together at a restaurant good omens style that gave me so many brainworms I immediately went to go write the first half of this. That’s as far as the inspiration goes, though, I took the actual content in a very different direction

Eddie’s no linguist, but he’s pretty sure when people came up with the phrase “Life is a bitch,” this isn't what they meant.

Unfortunately, Life happens to be just that. A massive bitch.

(Perhaps even more unfortunately, he’s also an incredibly attractive one.)

He doesn’t remember being born.

It was at The Beginning Of All Things, so he thinks he can be forgiven for that. Frankly, with all the universes he has to travel daily, it’s a miracle he even remembers yesterday. Nancy would argue that he doesn’t, since yesterday is a useless concept to beings who exist outside of time and space, but what does she know?

He does remember meeting Life, though.

He’d looked him up and down, or as much as one could when they were simply a vague concept with no form or real identity yet. Eddie (who was not yet Eddie) had eyed him back just as warily.

“So,” Life said, “you’re the other guy?”

“Looks like.”

“Hmm.” He gave him a single dismissive look, before casting his eyes down on a universe that was still being formed. “Well, try not to fuck up my things too much.” And before Eddie could snap back that he would fuck up whatever he damn well pleased, he was gone.

It had set a precedent.

“Hello,” Eddie says, kneeling in front of a young woman. Too young, far too young for this, but that's the way it goes. “What’s your name?”

She blinks at him silently. Around them, doctors rush around, shouting instructions that get more frantic by the minute. They ignore his presence in the center of the room.

Finally, the woman licks her lips. “Cass,” she says. “My name is Cass.”

“Well, hello Cass.” He smiles comfortingly. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I?”

“You tell me.” He straightens up and holds out a hand. After a moment's hesitation, she takes it. The doctors get even louder, but it doesn’t matter. A long, singular beep is lost among the chaos. 

She stumbles for a moment when she stands, but he holds her steady. She gasps when she turns around. 

“Ah, he says, “you’re getting it now.”

“So this is it then?” She asks, staring down at her own body in the hospital bed. 

“In a way,” he shrugs. “Your life as you know it is over, but there’s more to see.”

“Like Heaven?”

“Not quite. Think of it as…another round on the carousel.”

“Rebirth?”

“There you go.” He squeezes her hand encouragingly. “Doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

“I don’t know. Will it suck?”

“I don’t know,” he echoes. “You’ll have to tell me when we see each other again.”

She looks at him appraisingly. “You’re Death, then.”

He lets go of her hand to sweep into a bow. “At your service, my lady.”

“You know, I always assumed you’d be more of a dick.”

“People always do.”

“You’re still wearing black though.”

“What, you don’t think it suits me?” He grins when she laughs. It’s true, though. He thinks black looks a lot better on him than the other colors he’s worn. 

They chat a bit more. He’s always eager to know about the lives he takes, about the experiences and the jobs and the dreams they had. It makes him a bit sad, but he’s been doing this since before this earth was a speck of atoms and dust. He’s had a long time to come to terms with his job.

Besides, it’s not like it’s really the end. He’ll see her again, be it under a new name and new life. She’s excited about it too, even if she’s a tad bit wary. He understands that. 

“Wait,” she says, as they’re finally getting ready to go. “My baby. Will she be okay?”

Eddie looks up, and meets the eyes of one of the nurses. He’s in perfunctory yellow scrubs, hazel eyes peering over his mask. He raises an expectant eyebrow at Eddie before his attention goes back to the baby in his arms. A silent demand to move along. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, watching him, “she’ll be just fine.”

“Is the baby going to be okay?” Eddie asks, depositing a small, glowing marble into a tall vase filled with them. 

“Which baby?”

He frowns, even though it’s a fair question. There are a million babies he could be asking about. He gestures to the marble on top of the pile, a little too sarcastic even for him. 

“Ah, Cassandra Revis, age 32.” Steve picks up the soul, turning it consideringly in his hands. “I talked to her partner. She’ll be missed.” His eyes glow the same gold color as the marbles, and he says, “The baby’s name is Delilah. She lives a good life. You’ll collect her when she’s 78.”

Eddie nods. 78 is a good, long number for humans. One that doesn’t make his technically-nonexistent heart hurt. 

“Why couldn’t you do that yourself?”

“Oh, I could,” he answers cheerfully. “I just wanted to make you do it.”

He doesn’t say he can only see when they’re taken, not what kind of life they live. Steve already knows. 

Every so often, they fuck. 

It’s not a thing, unless you count the multiple instances where it has absolutely crossed the threshold from lapse of judgment to this is something that will happen again. It shouldn’t have even happened the first time, let alone the times after it. Or the times in the future, but Eddie tries not to think about that. 

In his defense, having sex with mortals kills them. Where else is he supposed to get his rocks off? There’s only a select few Beings he would fuck. Robin would rather die, Chrissy is nice, but usually a little too sweet for him. Nancy is always good, but not always what he’s looking for. And Jonathan and Argyle are fine, but they’re really too into each other to pay much attention to him. He loves being the center of attention. Thrives off it, even. And Steve, for all his faults, is excellent at pretending to have complete and utter focus on his partners. As if there’s not billions of different versions of them across this universe alone at that exact point, collecting and giving. As if the only thing that matters is them alone together. 

So, yeah. They fuck, and he’s not ashamed of it. He enjoys it, in fact! He’s not too proud to say that. Just…never where Steve can hear and get that stupidly sexy smug look on his face. The one that makes Eddie want to punch him. As if either of them can be harmed. 

The thing they don’t talk about. The thing Eddie avoids thinking about. One day, he’ll take them all. Dustin, Max, Lucas, El, Will, Mike, Erica. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Robin, Chrissy. Steve. One by one, he’s going to have to collect them all, and then he’ll be alone in an empty universe. However short that time is, it terrifies him. He’s never been alone before. 

Steve will be the last to go. Maybe that’s why he can’t tear himself away. 

(“Is it weird that I’m kind of looking forward to it?” Steve asked once, quietly. They’d been naked, curled together in Steve’s bed. Or, more accurately, the bed Steve conjured for this purpose. His room was bright, in an unnatural way that reminded Eddie of a star. Not that it mattered. If they wanted to sleep all they had to do was close their eyes and will it.

“Looking forward to what?” Eddie asked. “Round four?”

He can feel the eye roll across dimensions. “Dying, numbskull. It’s basically the only thing I haven’t experienced. We know when it’s gonna happen, how it’ll happen, but everything after that is just…blank to me. I can’t see the next Creation.”

His throat feels tight. “That eager to get rid of me?”

“As if you’re not gonna be right there when we meet again,” he huffs. It’s true. Steve comes first, because you can’t have Death without Life. And at the end of Everything, once he’s taken Life, it’ll be the catalyst for a new Beginning. They know all the steps. It’s been ingrained into their very existence since they began. 

But they won’t remember this. They’ll be different iterations of themselves. No memories, no knowledge of what happened in the universe before. Just copies with the instructions downloaded into their brains. 

He’s been spending too much time on Earth. 

“It won’t be the same.”

That makes Steve pause. “No,” he acknowledges quietly. “It won’t be the same.”

[youngpettyqueen]

Hi! I'm back and saw the bad injury prompts you reblogged. 👀 Could you please do "I can't feel my legs" with Julian saying it? ❤️

thank you for your patience!! its been. a wild week. but I finally have the energy to sit and get this written out. ive been pondering it all week hehe

I went through a couple ideas before I settled on doing a missing scene style of thing set in The Siege of AR-558. this is set after battle, but before the conversation we see between Sisko and Worf right at the very end. ive talked about it on this blog before but it makes me absolutely feral that Julian gets shot and just. gets up and keeps going. forever chewing on that but I digress ill save my insane rambling for the tags

I hope you enjoy! I like writing Julian and Worf a lot, and I hope you enjoy reading them <3

Doctor Bashir can be a very difficult man to find.

Worf isn't surprised. This is a battlefield in its aftermath, naturally a doctor would be difficult to locate, especially one as quick and efficient as Julian. He stops to ask a few people who look to have been treated, and they all give generally the same answer; that they just saw him, and he went over that way.

Worf follows the general direction of all the pointing, and he finds himself in a tunnel leading to another part of the caverns. He starts to walk through, figuring he'll find the elusive doctor on the other side, where other wounded surely lie.

Instead he damn near trips over him.

Worf thinks it's a rock, or a dropped weapon, at first. But then, as he's taking a second to regain his balance, he hears a low, quiet groan. He looks down, expecting to find a wounded officer, and that's exactly what he finds.

Except the wounded officer is none other than Doctor Bashir.

Julian is half-concealed by the shadows, tucked right up against the tunnel wall and lying flat on his stomach. One arm is outstretched, like he was reaching for the other side, while he has his face buried in the crook of the other elbow. Worf had tripped over one of his legs, which is bent at the knee, like he'd fallen mid-step.

Worf drops to a crouch beside him. "Doctor Bashir," He says, but gets no response, "Doctor, can you hear me?" He places a firm hand on the doctor's shoulder, in case the touch might rouse him.

Julian flinches under his hand. Then he stirs, and he lifts his head, trembling with the effort of it. "Worf...?" He looks up at him, eyes squinted in the dark.

"Yes, Doctor," Worf replies, "What happened? Are you injured?" He questions.

Julian's head drops back against his arm, but he keeps it turned so that he's still facing Worf. "'Fraid so," He grimaces, "I was... I was shot. My side..." He manages to give a weak, indicative nod.

Worf nods. "I will assist you," He tells him. He gets a hold of Julian and, carefully, he maneuvers him onto his back. Julian grabs onto his arm, and there's a surprising strength to his grip. A strangled sound of pain escapes him, grinding out through tightly-clenched teeth. Worf can feel him trembling still, so he pulls him a bit closer, supports the doctor's weight against his own body, "Try to hold still. I must see the wound."

Julian nods wordlessly. He faces the pain well. It's difficult to make out, in the dark, but there's just enough light from the tunnel's exit for Worf to be able to see the large hole burnt away from Julian's uniform jacket. It's burnt right through, both jacket and undershirt gone, leaving raw, angry skin exposed to the dusty air of these caverns. He can see the glisten of blood, can feel it saturating the jacket as he places a bracing hand by the wound.

It's bleeding badly. Julian will have already lost a lot of blood, he needs to slow it until he can get him to one of the medical officers. He shifts his hand over and presses it firmly against the wound, and he keeps a firm grip on the doctor as his entire body jolts with the action. Julian continues to face the pain bravely, turning his face into Worf's chest and screaming against his teeth.

There's a part of him that threatens to get very, very angry at seeing Julian wounded. There's no honour in harming a healer, even some of the most bloodthirsty Klingons he's known would spit at the idea. It's an instinctual reaction, one he has to bite back. He has to remind himself that Julian was here not only as a doctor, but also as an officer. He was wounded as a warrior on the battlefield.

"I don't- I don't think I like that look, Commander." Julian wheezes, his weak voice drawing Worf back out of his thoughts. He's managing a small smile, teasing and boyish even in agony, but it's clear that he's struggling.

"The wound is severe," Worf replies. He doesn't see the point in trying to soften that information, he's sure that Julian, as a doctor, is all too aware of his current condition, "Why did you not seek medical assistance?" He asks.

"Didn't realize it was... this bad," Julian rasps, "My brain does this... funny thing, where I'll see people who need me, and... and nothing else really matters," He rests his head against Worf's chest, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. He looks nauseous, his brow pinched tight and sweat glistening on his forehead, "I hardly felt it till I collapsed." He manages to finish.

"I fail to see how that is funny," Worf gruffs, "Your dedication to your patients is admirable, Doctor. But now, it is you who requires assistance. Are you able to stand?" He asks.

Julian shakes his head. "No, I... I can't," He replies honestly, "I'm... afraid I can't feel my legs, Commander." He admits.

"Then you will be carried," Worf adjusts his hold, gets an arm under Julian's knees and pulls him against his chest. He pushes himself up with ease, the doctor's weight inconsequential as he cradles him securely, "Hold on, Doctor." He instructs.

Julian's arms come up to wrap around his neck. His head drops against Worf's shoulder, his face half-buried in his neck. He can feel Julian's shallow, quick breathing against his skin. He doesn't have time to waste.

Worf sets off, ducking out of the tunnel and moving into the next open cavern. With the injured doctor in his arms, he makes a brisk pace as he seeks out the first medical officer he can find.

[bmpmp3]

11 fish

[lordshroom]

For the ask game!:

3 - 12 - 14 - 16

3. Which is your favorite turtle from any version?

12. Who is your favorite minor or recurring character?

14. Who are your favorite duo (non-shipping)?

(honestly, in any version these two interacting is *chefs kiss*)

16. What was the first TMNT show/movie you ever watched?

[welcometoteyvat]

too little gfx in the tags lately this is so unfortunate

[eelslippers]

The hardest part about being a dm that I never see anyone talk about is when you have an ongoing campaign, yet you have ideas for a different campaign setting entirely different from the current one and you can't simply just start a new one either. I have so many ideas but I can't use them yet

[marzipanandminutiae]

Have you seen the Margiela fashion show from two days ago and what did you think? It's Victorian doll themed 😍

Looks more like 1930s does 18th century than anything Victorian, to me. It's certainly cool-looking, though! But I have no strong opinion, other than that I'm not sure they have a solid sense of what any part of the Victorian era looked like, beyond "glazed porcelain existed; also corsets and skirts"

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Hi…

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Your recent ask just gave me a HC where a day after Mark became an alternate, he was mauled by a cougar in the woods and, in a panic, he just turns it into an alternate to get it off of him and now there’s urban legends of a really weird-looking cougar wandering the woods of Mandela county.

Thats a cool hc honestly. Weird cat in the woods, give it a ball of yarn

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally settling once and for all... with the evidence laid out plainly.. which of these brother boys is more stinkys ,,,

[vaugarde]

me: oh i gotta finish my novella and work more on my pmd fic and world and also work on that wc rewrite loose outline and oh i wanna get back to my sonic one eventually

also me: omg what if i made an anthro pokemon world based on the main series but the main gym leaders and protags are all replaced by their pokemon (not to be confused with pmd, this is just the main series but the humans are gone)

[shevr]

Dang what question do you ask a cool person uuuuuuuh whats your fav piece of clothing you own

waaah i don't actually know huuuuhhh here's a selection of 3 that i'm thinkin of right now

( read more cuz it got long )

/1 this thing that i think is supposed to be mostly like a dress-shirt thing but that i prefer to wear as an open long shirt instead. this is a bad pic of it

/2 this yugioh shirt that ive had since i was at least 10 years old and honestly almost never wore since then but. it's still sick actually n i should wear it more

3/ 2 absolutely sick crop top designs from @gawki

[luciality]

iggypan

[krawdad]

I managed to find footage of them building the 2001 godzilla suit

I speak exactly zero Japanese but I’ve already learned some gems I didn’t know before.

This weird lattice cut into these areas is to increase movement in those areas, since the foam can only stretch and bend so much on its own. Before seeing this I had only vague ideas how you could increase flexibility in a shape that you already had built.

(they later went in and added similar cuts to the chest too)