#I am not late

[farfaras]

Steddie week. Day 3: First kiss. 1.4k words. Ao3 link.

@steddie-week

~

Yeah, they’re absolutely, 100 percent, morons. Like, who even is this stupid? Steve thinks that ever since facing off an evil wizard with interdimensional powers, they do not have a sense of preservation or survival when it comes to actual normal human beings.

They just wanted to have dinner! Honestly Eddie hasn’t had much trouble with people, the story that was put out made him look like a hero (which Steve is glad for, because he is) and the town believed it like they’ve believed everything since 1983.

But these fucking jocks will not leave Eddie alone. Steve is tired of this, he can’t even imagine the exhaustion that Eddie feels.

When they approached them Steve knew that it was going to be a little bit harder to get out of than the other times. There were 5 of them, and just Steve and Eddie. When it’s just one or two, Steve can usually just scare them off with a glare and a name drop.

And Eddie.

He’s an idiot.

An idiot!

Since the whole thing he pulled in the upside down, they’ve had talks. About how he’s not a coward. He’s brave and he doesn’t need to prove anything. Sometimes running is okay. Sometimes running is the only option.

But he still has trouble believing it sometimes.

Steve is patient and understanding. Robin has said many times how people have a process.

He just wishes Eddie didn’t have to live his process right at moments like these!

He loves Eddie (wait, hold on, what?), but he can be somewhat impulsive and unpredictable. Steve was hoping that while he was defusing and excusing themselves, Eddie would follow his lead. Well, wrong.

He doesn’t even know what happened! One moment he was talking and the next they’re running away from some soda splashed jocks. Oh come on, Eddie.

Robin sometimes jokes about him and Eddie being the kids’ co-parents. The kids find it funny, for some reason. Dustin calls them both dad and Mike likes to call Steve mom as if that would bother him.

But right now, Eddie doesn’t feel like a co-parent as much as he feels like another goddamn kid. Always the babysitter.

So now, they’re running from 5 guys who are pissed. And sticky.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” Steve is almost hysterical.

“I panicked! They’re so many!” Eddie is panting, and he doesn’t know how much more he’s gonna be able to keep running.

“So throwing drinks at them was your solution?!” Steve is talking a big game, but in an alternative universe, he’s probably the one who threw the drinks.

“Better than what you were doing!” Eddie argues.

“I was doing just fine!” He was! Steve was gonna get them out of there. Unscathed. He had to. That’s what he’s for.

“Words weren’t gonna stop ‘em.” True, but at least they could’ve walked out or ran, before they were pissed.

“Well I hardly see anything that could stop them now!” They take a turn so they have some time to think of something while the jocks catch up. But like Steve said there’s nothing that can help them here.

There’s some stores. And an alley in the middle of a clothing and a pet store. Eddie grabs his hand and guides them towards the clothing store. “Come on, follow my lead.”

There’s some mannequins in front of the store, Eddie takes a long dark coat off the mannequin. “What are you doing?” Steve asks.

“Shh.” Eddie just shushes him. He shushes him! What is he on?

“Wha- don’t you shush me!” He whisper yells with not a very convincing anger in his voice.

“Stop asking questions and just do what I say!” Eddie requests. Which is kind of a lot to ask considering he’s the one who worsened the situation. “I got us into this and I’ll get us out.” Huh. Steve thinks that’s fair, but he’s still hesitant.

“But I don’t know what we’re doing.” Steve doesn’t like that.

“Me neither. But it’s better than nothing.” Steve thinks Eddie kinda lives by that philosophy. Does he have that one on that doctrine he came up with?

What’s the difference between philosophy and doctrine? Huh. Wait, no sidetracking. Steve, focus! You’re both in danger.

Eddie puts the coat on, it’s so long it covers most of his legs. He also grabs the beanie and jacket that were on the other mannequin and puts it on Steve. “What’s this even gonna do?”

“I told you to stop asking questions!” Eddie’s eyes look wild.

“Sorry.” Steve’s sure Eddie is scared right now, but he does a good job of hiding it.

Eddie takes his hand and they run to the alley. Who has a dead end. Shit. They hear the voices turning the corner. Fuck, they’re gonna come across the alley anytime now.

Eddie turns to him and backs him into a corner. “Kiss me.”

Well. Steve couldn’t have heard that right. He shakes his head. “What?”

Eddie turns his back on the entrance of the alley. It’s kinda dark and they’re all the way to the back. “Now! They’re coming!” Eddie demands.

Eddie doesn’t give him much time to answer or even come up with something to say. Suddenly there are lips pressed to his. Eddie swallows any sound of surprise he might’ve been about to make. Eddie’s hands are on his chest and Steve finds himself putting his hands on Eddie’s waist and pulling him closer, as if he’s acting on instinct. There’s footsteps, voices, they seem to stop in front of the entrance. Steve doesn’t exactly know what they’re doing because he’s closed his eyes. They mutter something, god knows what, and then they go on their way. Looking for them somewhere else.

However, they don’t stop kissing when they’re gone. In fact, Steve hugs Eddie’s waist now, pulling them chest to chest while Eddie’s hands move to his face. They pull apart just to catch a single breath before going back in. Huh, now they’re just making out. Steve can call it what it is. He doesn’t know what Eddie is doing with his tongue, but he’s not complaining at all.

“I- um.” Eddie tries to step back but his embrace is strong. “My long hair.”

“Your…?” Steve’s brain isn’t computing much right now.

“From their point of view, it-“ Eddie inhales deeply. “It probably looked like a girl and a guy kissing.” Oh. Oh, Steve is so stupid. “Plus this coat almost looks like a dress.”

“Yeah, no, that’s- you-“ God, can he not even form sentences anymore? “Good thinking.” If he could, Steve would facepalm right now.

“They’re gone now.” Eddie nods.

“They sure are.” Steve confirms. Doesn’t really know what else to do.

Eddie looks around, and then directly at his eyes. That’s intense. “You can let me go now.”

He can let him go now. Eddie’s hands have moved to his shoulders, probably not knowing where else to put them.

He could let him go, now. They could go back to their respective places. And move on like this was another normal day for them.

He could do that.

Or.

Or he could confront this. Confront this thing that’s been going on between them for, in Steve’s humble opinion, far too long. He was scared before. He still is, but it doesn’t feel like something he can’t conquer, now. So he makes the decision. He’s not running away from this anymore. Even if sometimes that’s all you can do, that’s not the case here. He could be doing so much more. They could be doing so much more.

“No.” Steve says. And it’s said with finality.

Eddie looks confused. “What? What do you mean?”

“I won’t let you go.” He shrugs. They’re still holding on to each other. “I like you too much for that.”

“What are you saying?”

“Exactly what you heard. I like you.” He leans in. He waits for Eddie to back off, show any type of discomfort or rejection on his face. But there’s nothing like that. “Can I kiss you again?”

A gasp comes out. Eddie nods. “Yes.” It’s whispered and if they weren’t so close he might’ve never heard it.

This one is more gentle. Slow and soft. Almost lazy, like they don’t need to rush because they know they’re gonna get to this again. And again.

“I like you too.” Eddie rests his forehead to his.

Steve smiles at him, and when Eddie smiles back he knows. He knows that he’s gonna fall so hard. He kinda already has.

[bloop-im-a-frog-now]

Sniffer Adventure and Pets

Pearl checked her inventory one last time.

“Sword, pickaxe, shovel, brush, golden carrots,” she hummed to herself. “Maybe I should bring a shield. Juuust in case.”

Once she crafted her shield, she beamed to herself and went out the door, the rumbles of the warden head vibrating her feet. She flew off and was ready to explore those warm ocean ruins.

She couldn’t get the two rarest flowers without some sniffers sniffing the seeds for her.

Tango had told her to head South, where most Hermits haven’t touched any warm ocean ruins. Most have gone North and West, where they could also get the mangrove wood and be left alone while grinding resources.

She threw a rocket to the ground, flying off as she held her Post Office cap on her head during the journey. Pearl didn’t want it to fly off and forever be lost. She loved the hat.

The first warm ocean she encountered didn’t have a lot of suspicious sand. Still, she brushed it, uncovering the mysterious items buried deep in it, like she was discovering fossils.

The first one ended up being a stick, an item very unnecessary for Pearl at the moment.

“What a shame,” she muttered to herself.

She brushed another suspicious sand block, muttering to herself “Sniffer egg, sniffer egg, sniffer egg” like a prayer that would be granted. Instead, she found an emerald.

“Aw man,” Pearl pouted. “I don’t even have a villager hall.”

She was hoping to use other Hermits’ villager hall this season. She kept the emerald for good measure.

“Maybe if I find gravel instead of sand?” She asked herself.

Right beside her was suspicious gravel, and she grinned.

“You cannot escape Pearl’s brush, you little gravel.”

She brushed it carefully, and saw something red being dug out.

She gasped. “Is this it? Did I finally found one?”

The more she uncovered, the more she realized it was a pottery shard. She let out a frustrated groan.

“I feel like I’m gonna find a lot of these pottery shards.”

And how she wished she was wrong. After visiting one-too many ocean ruins (it was more like two, but flying around to find them was worst than finding the mangrove forest), Pearl was almost ready to give up on this region of the world. She looked at the last suspicious sand and glanced back at her brush.

“One last try. C’mon Pearlie, just one last time. This time, it’ll be a sniffer egg. I can feel it in my bones.”

Despite her pep talk, she did not feel confident about the loot in the suspicious sand. Every centimetres she uncovered, her breath stuck in her throat, as if she’d be disappointed by what the sand would unravel.

She saw red, and inhaled loudly in the bubble column she used for breathing — a fatal flaw in her preparations was to bring water breathing potions. She closed one eye, as if the disappointment would be less grand if she didn’t fully witness it.

It could be another pottery shard, or it could be a smithing template. Pearl played on loop the mantra “sniffer egg, sniffer egg, sniffer egg” in her head, brushing like every mistake would cost her her life.

God she hoped it was a sniffer egg.

Suddenly, she saw green spots on the object, and she let out a squeal of joy. She brushed the rest of the sand away and admired the wonderful egg in the palms of her hands.

“What a beauty,” she whispered.

She slowly caressed it with her index finger, cooing at it.

“You’re gonna look amazing, and you’re gonna dig out sooo many flowers for me, and you’re gonna help me make money. Oh, it’s gonna be wonderful!”

The egg did not reply, but Pearl didn’t need a response. She gently tucked it in her inventory, swimming up to the surface until a huge realization struck her.

She needed two eggs to have more than one sniffer.

She groaned. “Damn you breeding mechanics.”

And thus, the search for a second sniffer egg began, much quicker than the first one. She didn’t listen to Tango’s advice and immediately went West, where there was a warm ocean biome that would surely have an ancient ruin in it.

When she spotted one, she flew immediately down, and gasped in excitement when she saw suspicious gravel and sand.

Her luck would definitely turn around this time.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she whispered to herself as she brushed a suspicious gravel.

It gave her a pottery shard.

She inhaled sharply. “It’s fine, that’s okay, I can — there’s more! Just — brush these, it’s gonna be okay, you’ll find a sniffer egg. Yeah,” she nodded to herself, “the next one’ll be it.”

She had guessed correctly. She rolled on the ball of her feet in joy and took the sniffer egg in her hand, gently petting it.

“You’re gonna be amazing in my farm,” she whispered to it encouragingly.

It didn’t respond. Pearl didn’t really care, she swimmed to the surface and flew to her base as fast as she could.

She wanted to see those sniffers hatch, after all.

Pearl almost face-planted to her roof with how fast she was going. She threw open the door to the sniffer room, a nice bamboo and sand colour with green grass surrounding it. She took out the first egg from her inventory, and carefully placed it on the ground, making sure it wouldn’t fall and break once Pearl let go of it.

It was standing proud in her base, a nice splash of colour in a room that blended into itself. She hummed in satisfaction and placed her fists on her hips.

“Yeah, that'll do,” she smiled. “Now, time for little guy number two!”

She bit her lower lip as the egg touched the ground, hands so gentle with it, as if it was a block she needed to put at the perfect spot for it to fit with the rest of her build. She couldn’t afford to break it, those eggs were so hard to find, and she needed those flowers so badly.

She made sure the egg was balanced on its own before taking her hands off of it. She beamed when the two eggs stood proudly on their own in the green house.

“You guys will be adorable, I can already tell. Now,” she went towards her door, “I’ll go fix some redstone while you two hatch. Be good.”

She looked at them sternly when she said it and left the room to go downstairs, where her redstone was. The Hermit hummed as she thought. Etho suggested she put a player’s head on the noteblock to not hear the farm or the allays activating it.

She slammed her fist against the palm of her hand.

“Time to search for a player's head,” she declared.

As she went to do that, the sniffers in the egg slowly squirmed in place, getting warmed up to hatch. The cracks were already there when she came up to the farm, where her sniffers would dig out the flowers for her shop.

“You guys are already hatching!” She exclaimed, a wide smile on her face. “Wait up, I wanna see you out of your shell, don’t you dare do anything.”

She changed the head she already had on the noteblock only for a small snort to echo in the room. Pearl swivelled around and cooed at the sight.

“You guys are so cute,” there was only one sniffer hatched, cleaning itself from the juices of the egg.

The second one hatched right under Pearl’s eyes, and she gasped in surprise.

“Down right adorable,” she cooed again, and slowly approached the sniffer who had finished cleaning itself. “Hey there little guy,” she greeted, and scratched the top of its head.

It snorted and shook its head like it had water splashed on it. Pearl chuckled and scratched underneath its chin. Immediately, it fell on its stomach, eyes closed and let the Hermit pet it.

“Oh, you’re so adorable. You like Pearl’s scratches? Yes you do, oh you big guy.”

The second bumped its head against Pearl’s shoulder, making doe eyes at her, pleading for something. She laughed and scratched right between its ears.

“Aw, you felt left out?”

The sniffer fell right beside her, caging her between the two of them. She laughed and continued her pets, appreciating this last moment she’ll probably ever spend with her sniffers.

“You guys are so big for babies. Can’t wait for the money you’re gonna make for me.”

The sniffers simply snorted and let themselves be petted by the Hermit. This sniffer farm will be better than her last one, Pearl just knew it.

[fulcrumstardust]

let these bones be the giver

She wonders how far she can push. And what happens when she goes too far.

Happy Halloween! 🎃👻🍬🦇💀🧡 This is the fic I promised you last year! You chose your own adventure so you've only got yourself to blame for anything that might happen, allegedly *kisses you on the head*

moodie gifted by @andorerso ♡

[vyxelle]

happy birthday mr man

[azzie-tangerine]

FINALLY done with the drafts of chapter 5 of Stuck With the Lor good god was it a long one.

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

DEVASTATING the lyric you've been mishearing is better than the real one

[shubbabang]

Shout out to everyone who is just so tired So so exhausted So very very tired so very fatigued so sleepy and tired So

[morebird]

Gale of Waterdeep

[plantpirating]

Type "I am" in the tags and whatever follows is your gender today...

[pastadoughie]

[stalebagels]

Edit: muted this monstrosity but if you're looking for the blank template it's on my blog and I'll tag this and it with "the stupid fucking shorts post" so you don't have to scroll through everything 💀😂 (I did not make the template btw, I don't know who the OP is but if you do please let me know)

[trainwreckgenerator]

top ten polycules most likely to destroy all life on earth

[splookiee]

day 1 of cringetober: heterochromia :3

[bqnnabreado]

Take Fremmy to the aquarium day !

[i-just-want-to-destroy]

holy fuck everybody shut the fuck up i just fucking figured it all out. multiverse is about the regret of not taking the choices you could have made. time travel is about the regret of taking the choices that you did make. and time loop is about realizing none of the choices you make ever actually matters.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.