#other than rewriting

[u5an5]

Just watched Deadpool & Wolverine with polish subs based on dub and I have to be honest, there's much more funny stuff than I expected, considering that the rest of it made me glad I'm not watching it with actual dub

So, things that picked my interest:

Instead "207 when I watch Gossip Girl" he straight up says "207 when I watch porn" (Gossip Girl isn't especialy popular show here so reference wouldn't mean anything for majority of audience anyway, but to straight up say it instead replacing it?)

"Ok peanut, 'guess we're getting that team-up after all" got replaced with "Okej ptysiu, nie ma to jak seks grupowy", which translates to "Okay cutiepie, nothing better than group sex" (??? we're still in the first 5 minutes of the movie)

"you know what they say, when one door closes, your locker at work opens" translated to "Jak to mówią… Jak zamykają od przodu, to ładujesz się od tyłu" which translates roughly to "Like they say... when they close the front, you get in the behind" which I find kinda funny

Peters line about seeing Wade in suit comes of gayish cause he doesn't say he wants to see him in the suit again, he wants to LOOK at him in it again, you know what I mean

intead "This guy looks ready to throw it all away for me" he says "This cutie would gladly get hugged by my bowels" which is a lot more straightforward than I expected

Wades spiel to comic acurate height Wolverine is much more insulting and instead being all "what a cwute short king you awe" translates to "Oh fuck, a furball dwarf? Was there even dwarf like that? Furballs mommy drank lots of booze when she was pregnant? Maybe daddy was a ratferret? Don't even come near me, 'cause you surely have ticks"

"I need you to come with me, right now" to "Zapraszam cię na randke, i to natychmiast" meaning "I invite you to a date, and I mean right now" (Logan replies with "Złotko, nie kręci mnie to" which translates to "Sweetie, I'm not diggin' it" and by "it" I'm honestly not sure if he means Wade himself, the fact that Wade said he's only here because he's the Wolverine just a second ago, or because his suit looks like fetish gear)

"It's quite common to Wolverines after 40" to "It's normal when going trough menopause, I get it"

they replaced "peanut" to different endearments to not be repetive but the most often used one is "ptysiu" (ptyś is a choux pastry; if I had to translate it as english endearment, I'd go with cutiepie). its cute imo

Logans "bub" also got replaced by endearments/insults losely fitting situation but the stupidest one has to be Logan calling Johnny "misiu", which translates to "little bear" and let me tell you, it's HILARIOUS cause it's equvalent of calling a random guy "sweetie" but in the "your grandma asking if you want seconds (yes you do, no you don't have any say)" way

"my boy's wicked strong" is translated to "mój chłopak zna się na rzeczy". It's slightly like the papi situation from spanish dub cause yes, "chłopak"'s direct translation is often "boyfriend" but it is also used as "boy", "guy" or "dude", usualy towards guys younger/about the same age as you. However, the addition of "mój"/"mine, my" makes it much more angled towards boyfriend, wherever they wanted to or not. There are at least three different ways to translate it and make it less gae I know and the've still chosen this one.

They made, in my opinion, the "its a common curtesy to ask" "Its good thing I don't give a fuck" lines better by translating them to "you shoud've ask, thats polite thing to do" "and you can politely fuck off"

they replaced Star Trek reference with Star Wars one, using Han Solo instead Spock and idk. on one hand they did it to THE spirk moment but on the other they made, and I may be reaching, but it seems like covert reference to "I know" scene so ??? (star trek is nowewhere near as known as star wars here so they would probs replace it either way but it also can be just "star trek and star wars sound so much alike, they have to be basically the same, right?" haha joke)

them instead innuendos using the most over the top forms of insult that no one ever heard is kinda funny but only because I only had to read them; if I ever heard somone call somebody "kutasina" irl I would find a way for at least one of us to not be able to hear anything ever again ("cockleter" is my best attempt to recreate this horseshit)

If you guys want to share some treasures from your native dubs/subs, feel free to

[ganondoodle]

(totk rewritten)

finally, all the arm and spirit abilities- for the first half of the game (rauru) and for the second half with the shiekah arm replacing links arms instead and the spirit abilities gained through ganondorf

(please excuse my handwriting and sometimes repeated info on the first two, i lost motivation/patience at the end and couldnt get myself to basically redo it all from scratch just to make it a bit more cleaner)

note, the camera rune is unconnected to the arm, its the shiekah stone copy link has (zelda carries the one from botw, a copy was attempted to be made for link but it lacks all runes except the camera, the map and its teleportation, and journal/archive)

note for the heal effects of some spirit abilities- im also reworking the healing system, making it more like the older games, so healing isnt as easy and much more restricted, thus making those effects of spirit abilities more valuable ( lil potion icon on the d pad will act a little bit like in skyward sword, opens your limited selection of healing items and if chosen link switches to holding it and letting you consume it with -a- while walking around in real time- to avoid more pausing and mass healing on regular items while in menu)

additional note, the automatic recharging of the magic meter depending on the environment gives you a reliable but less abusable way of using abilities and allows for even more creative dungeon/challenge design by using it effectively- it works by absorbing magic from its surroundings, so if its an area with little magic it recharges slower, if its a very spiritual or healthy place it will recharge faster, it can be used to make things more challenging and also as subtle storytelling (example, theres a graveyard with the magic energy around being off the charts, even if there are no spirits to see, it could hint at the people buried not having died peacefully, no matter what their gravestone says...)

the usage of magic and how much the different abilities cost also allows for a much more dynamic fighting style for players to choose and try out, balancing them all out with their cost instead of a fixed timer, and the recharging beign affected by the environment perhaps forcing players that favor high cost magic abilities to use the lower cost ones for example, or not being able to charge one up bc the enemy is too fast and doesnt give you enough time to charge it

about half of the small overworld dungeons (not shrines) are also locked/inaccessible for the first half and new quests appear as the second half commences- together with the additional changes raurus return brings with it (sonau buildings, enemies being mostly cosntructs that he summoned etc) and whole set of new abilities giving you a fresh new way to play while (hopefully) not making you feel too restricted for the first half

... making these detailed concepts took me longer than id like to admit q-q

[hitlikehammers]

Steddie S4 💚Secret Relationship🩶

because when cheerleaders start floating and folding like laundry, what do you do? you run to your boyfriend (duh)

Eddie doesn’t dump his van on purpose. He runs out of fucking gas.

Through the pounding of his heartbeat and the screeching echo of his own screams and the memory of the cracking, the snapping of, of—

Through all of it he hears a voice in his head: when the little stick points to ‘E’ it isn’t a fucking suggestion, man and the tone the voice is in, the recognizable combination of snark and concern and fondness, genuine fucking fondness—it doesn’t calm his pulse at all but it does ease his nerves just a little, just enough to realize: he gonna have to run the rest of the way.

Thankfully, he took backroads: enough tree cover that footsteps would be hard to track so any direction would be way too hard to find, not quick enough, not before they can, not before Steve can—

He starts the old girl one more time before she gives out entirely, but the fumes take him into the woods far enough to hide the van pointing the wrong way, and the ground’s hard enough here still that he doesn’t leave tread marks. Okay.

Okay. So…running.

The lucky thing is, Eddie knows these woods.

Or rather: Eddie knows that these woods will take him right to where he wanted to go anyway. They run up against the backyard of the exact house with the exact man he needs.

He doesn’t keep to a straight shot, but he doesn’t waste time either, his chest hurts too much, and it’s weird that his heartbeat’s no harder or faster for fucking sprinting, his lungs no closer to hyperventilation when he’s a smoker who doesn’t really do physical activity, at least not the kind that’d help him out, here—it’s weird, and probably concerning that when he gets to the sliding glass off the back deck his lungs are on fire and his chest is heaving but it doesn’t feel any different from the moment he watched her, watched her…

No different from then, to now.

He thinks he’s slapping the glass more than knocking, but he’s answered quicker than he would be if the sole resident of the property had actually been asleep so. At least there’s that.

“Eddie?”

Steve’s all question in his tone for a whole second before he’s grabbing Eddie, pulling him in, closing the door and locking it quick and then, and then—

Pulling Eddie straight into his chest and wrapping around him and Eddie fucking collapses, drops into that embrace because he needs it, now, and it’s come to mean safe and home and, and loved and he—

“Eds, baby, are you hurt?” Steve doesn’t peel him away where he burrows in further, but starts running palms down Eddie’s limbs, looking for wounds, for clues as Eddie shakes, trembles and gasps against him.

“What is it, what happened?” Steve tries to get him to breathe even as he asks, even when his hands finish searching, when Steve sees that his body at least is intact, unlike—

Fuck.

“Eds, come on, deep breath with me,” and Steve grabs one of Eddie’s hands and shoves it hard to his own chest, models the motion like Eddie’s never learned how on his own and it helps, it does help, and he knows he needs to, to tell Steve and—

“Did,” Eddie gets out a single word on a huff of air but Steve soothes him, praises the pathetic accomplishment, so Eddie tries again, just one word. One word at a time.

“The mall.”

Two words. And Steve’s steady breaths. He can do this. His hand’s held still by Steve’s while the rest of him’s still shaking but: he can do this.

For Chrissy.

“Before, the other times,” Eddie bites out and screws his eyes shut because he can see it either way, and he needs to kind of hide a little, even if it doesn’t change anything, if he’s gonna get it out, if he’s gonna say it and make it real so he can’t take it back:

“Did people ever…float?”

Steve’s hands still, and Eddie swears he can feel Steve’s heart trip for just a second before it starts beating a little harder but: never once, not once, does Steve breathing falter. It’s a steady throughline for Eddie to keep following even as his fear deepens because Steve’s still, tense against him now in a whole new way and Eddie tries, he tries so hard to lose himself in breathing, in Steve’s breathing, so deep he’d probably have missed it if he weren’t pressed so tight against that chest so as to hear the murmuring from inside more than out:

“Not yet,” Steve barely whispers as his hands start moving, stroking back and forth up and down Eddie’s spine; “have they started to?”

Eddie starts shaking a little harder. He’d been real fucking afraid of that.

It takes an hour, maybe closer to two, for Eddie to choke out the details. They’re bundled on the couch, Eddie with a water Steve insists he drink, and it probably makes sense because of how much he’s losing in fucking tears as he just, just sees her snapping in half and folding into, into—

It makes sense, needing hydration or whatever, but Eddie’s doesn’t trust himself not to sick up even a sip of it.

By the time he’s finished, he feels wrung out in ways he didn’t know were possible. Like the blood in him’s been squeezed out and he’s just a husk, but Steve.

Steve doesn’t stop holding the wrung-out husk of him. And that’s…that is something.

“That’s,” Steve finally starts, and his tone is different now from the placating soothing he’d kept up throughout Eddie’s recounting of the horrors, but the press of his lips to Eddie’s temple is still exactly the same.

Eddie feels something in him starting to ease, solely because of and solely possible for the way Steve holds to him, close and unwavering. He feels it before the words come out, the slight tension that hits Steve’s muscles and the dry catch of the breath in his chest before he speaks:

“Eddie,” and it’s a tone that Eddie doesn’t hear too often, but is still wholly familiar with for the most heartbreaking reasons, like when the nightmares had gotten too frequent and Eddie had been the one to cry when Steve clammed up and shook head to toe in Eddie’s arms because Steve was hurting that bad and wouldn’t tell him why, and how could Eddie help if Steve wouldn’t tell him why—

It’s the tone of voice that broke Steve’s NDA that night. It’s the tone of voice that finally explained why Steve went ramrod-still when a light flickered. It was the tone that explained, the first time they got high together, why Steve hadn’t smoked in months and why he was scared to try again and he wanted to face the fear of it but would Eddie, could Eddie just make sure, like—

It’s the same voice, now, so Eddie saves him the trouble, because that voice shatters Eddie’s heart to pieces, every time.

“It’s like Starcourt,” Eddie whispers, hoarse as hell and still watery, as if somehow unthinkably he’s got more tears to spare; “and like the tunnels, and the,” be swallows, and turns to look Steve in the eyes:

“The nail bat?”

The first time he saw that thing he was naive enough to think it was badass. After he learned what it was really for, he didn’t think it was less badass but. He actually processed the stains that wouldn’t come off as the wrong shade for being just rust.

“I think,” Steve breathes in deeper, the way that always hurts, and he looks so fucking apologetic when he exhales, as if it’s somehow his fucking fault:

“I think so.”

The words aren’t said like there’s any doubt in them, though, and maybe Eddie starts to spiral.

“They’re gonna think it was me,” he squeezes his eyes tight against the scene in his living room, that his uncle’s gonna find, fuck, fuck; “they’re gonna think I—”

And then Steve’s grabbing him above the elbow, spinning Eddie around to properly face him, then shaking Eddie just enough to demand his attention, as if the low growl that escapes him, that hits a note Eddie suspects both gods and devils raise up to take heed of:

“I am not gonna let anyone lay a fucking finger on you.”

And…and what’s Eddie even supposed to do, when Steve says it, when Steve uses that voice for him?

All he can seem to do is cover Steve’s hands so desperate, anchor that this man is for him, and close his eyes when Steve leans to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“There are people who clean this up,” Steve reaches to cradle Eddie’s head closer, to press lips behind his ear; “but they’re slow and they’re always too chickenshit to step in and take fucking responsibility while it’s all going down,” Steve’s tone is dry, so much judgement but his grip, his hold is somehow so comforting and firm at the very same time and Eddie thinks that’s why he feels safe, or almost, even as Steve eases him back, licks his lips, nods to himself and then kisses Eddie, full on the lips and hard, quick, before he pulls them both up to stand, links one hand in Eddie’s as he pulls him behind him as he walks through the house, quick and almost clinical:

“So here’s what we’re gonna do.”

The terms Steve lays out are…simple, if kinda terrifying not least for the fact that Steve has terms, because no one could think this up so quick on the spot under this kind of pressure, not to mention with the prompt of how to hide your boyfriend if he ends up wanted for murder, Jesus fuck—

“It was a plan to keep you safe, or us safe, or you and Wayne safe or,” and oh, oh Steve’s answering him, Eddie didn’t notice he was talking out loud. He can’t even blush for it, doesn’t think there’s enough blood to pool there when it’s still racing through his veins maybe not at top speed anymore, but: still making a sprint to the finish as they climb the stairs down instead of up, as Eddie follows Steve to a wall with a painting in the finished half of the basement, watches Steve lift the painting off its hanger and—

“You have a basement vault,” Eddie can…only state the obvious as he watches Steve go under the back of the frame of the painting and find a very evil-villain type of key, in this very evil-villain type of set up, and he blurts without thinking, save it’s kinda all he can think:

“Is one of your parents a serial killer?”

Steve at least snorts, at that.

“Probably closer to white collar criminal,” Steve shrugs as he swings open a pretty…small, ish, space behind the metal door, thicker than Eddie’d figured but definitely evil-villain style with it.

“It had a bunch of locked filing cabinets, like three safes, and the shelves went across this way,” Steve stretches his arms along the back of the vault and okay, yeah, less evil-villain, unless you count Reaganomics-style capitalism as a villain. Which Eddie does, but.

Not the point.

“Just all stacks of shit in folders that definitely seemed a hundred percent normal,” Steve deadpans, takes it in stride; Eddie’s always impressed with his boyfriend but fuck: he’s in goddamn awe of him in a whole new way, just now.

“When it became pretty clear they weren’t coming back any time soon, and even if they were, when,” Steve shrugs and crosses his arms, rolls his shoulders back in that way Eddie doesn’t think he even recognizes doing:

“When the end of the world started to be a recurring thing, I mean, that sure as shit beats out trying to hide your shady business dealings any day.”

He nods to himself, and glances toward Eddie, maybe for agreement or approval or moral support and Eddie’s got all that and more, hopes his own bobblehead-like nodding conveys as much. Steve smiles the tiniest bit and then dives back in, like all he needed was a little boost. A little tacit but undeniable love.

And…maybe that really was all Steve needed.

“It’s a tight squeeze, but,” he curls himself into the space, crouches to demonstrate; it’s not terrible, but it’s definitely the tight side of cozy; “needs must or whatever,” exactly, yes, right, and Eddie’s wiry; it’s more than fine.

“Essentials are all packed in for short term use,” he gestures at boxes of food, cans and an opener, firearms. Ammunition. Eddie swallows…harder than he should. He’s fired a gun before.

Just…one time at the air to scare off a coyote.

“I tried to get a plumber but,” Steve grimaces, forging on; “they said they’d need to dig the whole thing up and they can’t start until summer at the earliest,” more than implying that he was on the list and waiting for summer. This was…this was…

“You really went all in on this,” Eddie kinda marvels because…holy shit, you know?

Steve, because he’s Steve, just raises a brow and smirks a little.

“Well, duh.”

And Eddie grabs him, frames his face and just drinks him in before he kisses Steve so goddamn hard.

“God, I love you,” he breathes against Steve’s mouth as they start to pull away, linger just to taste each other on the exhale, before Steve pulls back, but reaches to keep Eddie’s hand in his, like a tether.

Eddie sure as fuck appreciates it.

“Key,” Steve holds up the fancy thing and taps the keyhole; “you lock it, then close it behind you,” and Eddie nods, seems straightforward enough; “I’m gonna put it with some of my keys upstairs, make it look innocent, but,” and Steve turns to him, gaze more serious than Eddie thinks he’s ever seen it.

“If you hear anything, you come down here. If you hear anyone but me, and I’ll call out and make sure you know if it’s safe, and that I’m alone, but if it’s anyone but just me,” and Steve squeezes his hand before letting go and maybe Eddie whimpers a little for the loss, but he tracks Steve with his eyes, almost unblinking.

“I want you to turn this here,” he points the key to the lock again; “hide the key under this part of the rug,” he lifts an area of carpet Eddie doesn’t think is meant to lift until he sees the concrete underneath and the groove that lets the key lie flat, unnoticeable; “then lock yourself in, and flip the deadbolt to make sure you’re safe,” Steve swings the door further open and toggles the deadbolt for demonstration; “so when it issafe, I’ll know from the keys upstairs where you are, and be down the second the coast is clear.”

Eddie nods, runs it through in his head—use key, hide key, climb into the vault, deadbolt the door, wait.

He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Steve’s palms are holding his own.

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s breathing out, sounds pained but then he’s stroking Eddie’s hair, tangling with a sweat-stuck curl, drawing Eddie’s forehead to his own to steady him, or try to as he promises:

“Baby, I’ve got you.”

And Eddie breathes, does his best to nod and not dislodge them from each other but Steve feels it, knows him, and pulls them chest to chest, wraps Eddie close so he can hide alongside Steve’s neck, feel the stray pump of his pulse where Eddie can feel anything outside his own sudden ramp back up toward hyperventilating, Jesus fuck.

“Do you trust me?” Steve’s suddenly breathing right against Eddie’s ear, and pulling Eddie’s hand, palm flat to his chest, filling the need he knows Eddie holds for the anchor, the rhythm he can tie himself to.

“Never thought I’d trust anyone, ever, like I trust you,” Eddie answers, steadiest as he’s been so far, as soon as he finds his voice to manage it. Steve presses his hand to his chest tighter, somehow holds him closer.

“I am going to keep you safe,” Steve vows, kisses Eddie’s hair and breathes in deep before he asks, his heartbeat still steady under Eddie’s hand but…stronger somehow:

“You love me?”

It’s a statement spoken like a question. Both and neither.

The answer’s the same either way.

“More than life.”

Steve nods, kisses Eddie’s temple now and pulls back only enough to look him in the eye as he cups his jaw and nods, takes in Eddie’s certainty and—

“Then no matter what happens, you won’t leave this house.”

Eddie stiffens, feels his jaw drop a little because, because…

“But—”

“And you’ll do exactly what I say while you’re in it, if something goes entirely fucking haywire and anyone tries to come for you here.”

And Steve’s eyes hold him so steady, so steely, so sure: because Eddie does love him. More than life. And…

And this is why Steve demanded spoken proof of the thing they both know.

“Dirty pool, Harrington,” Eddie bites out against Steve’s neck again, because…he’s so tired. And he feels safe here, against the man he loves, like…really loves. He…he’ll give in, for this man. Nobody else.

“It’s been closed all winter, so, yeah,” Steve sighs exaggeratedly, his chest lifting with it high, still under Eddie’s hand; “pretty dirty pool out there.”

Eddie can’t help how he snorts.

“Motherfucker.”

“Nope,” Steve shakes his head, tone dramatically lamenting; “I’m a deeply committed monogamist,” and Steve reaches, draws Eddie’s face from its hiding place and brings him within kissing distance:

“And I’m deeply committed to you, so,” and fuck him, fuck him for the way he runs a thumb so delicate, so tenderly down Eddie’s bottom lip, looks at him so lovingly, as if his nerves aren’t already fried enough without Steve making him fucking weak in the goddamn knees.

“But you’re going out there—” Eddie puts up a protest he wishes rang clearer, more forcefully—but he’s drained, and he’s starting to feel it hard.

“We know what we’re doing,” Steve tells him, not unkindly, not dismissively—tries like hell for reassuring, even. “And it’s not that I don’t think you do, or can. It’s not that I doubt you, you know that,” and fuck all: Eddie does.

He’s a coward and a hypocrite in a lot of fucking ways but. Not this one.

“But if they tie you to Chrissy,” Steve says so soft, treads so careful; “I need you safe,” and he’s right, he’s fucking right because Eddie ran, he ran from her body, and he—

“Because I can’t do my part to help stop this if my heart’s not in it all the way.”

Eddie frowns at that; doesn’t understand.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Steve’s smile tightens, goes thin but his eyes never waver.

“Because it’d busy worrying only about you,” and he’s honest to a fucking fault, like it’s obvious too, which Eddie’s own heart’s tripping twice on in a row and hard, just to hear it said so plain and adamant. “If you’re out there, even with us, you’re vulnerable.”

“I can take care of—” Eddie starts, but Steve’s thumb’s back on his lip: dirty fucking pool.

“We don’t do that anymore,” Steve whispers, and it’s the first time his eyes look less than sure as he breathes out: “do we?”

And fuck, fuck: that’d been Eddie’s line. That’d been Eddie trying to soothe Steve, to learn his secrets in the first place in order to help, or at least try. They don’t…they don’t have to take care of themselves alone.

“Please, Eddie,” Steve whispers, too low and almost toneless for it, in order to count as begging. But.

Steve’s got him. His own words. His whole heart. Fuck.

“Okay.”

And Steve looks at him, studies him without breathing almost to the point of concern, like he’s looking for the lie but there isn’t one. Eddie…for Steve.

Eddie can do this for Steve. He will do this for Steve.

And he gets a hell of a kiss for it, so. His efforts don’t go unrewarded.

Steve takes his hand again and leads him back up the stairs, sets him in a chair and kisses his head, keeps him as close as he can when he can’t hold him full-on while he makes a phone call that Eddie only hears on the periphery, makes out, hate to call so late, Mrs. Byers, but I just found out that, yeah, she’s taken a turn, and I know you were, yeah, exactly, Claudia will be a mess and, no, no, I think there’s time, just, if you still wanted, I think it’s probably a good idea to try and get here? Sooner rather than later, yeah, then he’s hanging up and Eddie’s watching him almost desperate with wide eyes he can’t seem to close, and Jesus fuck , he’s losing it again, he can’t stop shaking—

“Eds.”

And Steve’s there, pulling Eddie up but he’s a puppet with his strings cut; he falls right back to the chair and Steve guides him down to it, settles him again before he bends, kneels and takes both his hands.

“We’re gonna get some rest, okay, even if it’s just cuddling in bed, even if we can’t get to actual sleep we’re gonna get some rest,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hands until he nods his understanding; “because I’m gonna go into work tomorrow like nothing’s wrong, okay?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide at that, not just for having to lose Steve at his side—he hates it but it makes sense, it makes the kind of sense that comes from absolute necessity—but he’s…what about Robin, or the kids, the people who know—

“You’re not gonna tell…”

“I’m not gonna risk it,” Steve answers immediately; “anyone could overhear and,” he shakes his hand and lifts Eddie’s hands to his lips:

“I’m not gonna risk you, understand?”

So Eddie follows him up the stairs, most of his weight on Steve so much that he may as well have been fucking carried, and neither of them sleep, but Eddie clings to Steve harder than he’s held on to anything, folded up small against his chest and it…it finally helps calm Eddie’s pulse a little, lets him soak Steve up like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

He’s already fucking terrified it will be.

But alarms go off, and sunrise comes, and Steve gets dressed and ready, stopping to drop kisses to Eddie head, his face, his neck as he goes from the bedroom to the en-suite and back while Eddie stays safe in bed, and it’s really the only thing that makes Eddie sit up, when Steve’s out of sight too long for doing his hair, it’s just to…to keep him, a little longer.

He gets out of bed and follows Steve around like a puppy, wouldn’t even deny it, couldn’t ever regret it, as Steve moves some of the food from upstairs down to the basement in case you feel more comfortable down there than in the dark up here because of course everything’s closed up tight and Eddie nods, grabs Steve and holds him close to his chest when it gets overwhelming, which is…a lot, he does it a lot of times, almost gets stuck in Steve’s work vest for fear of letting go.

For fear it’ll be the last time.

“Week, week and a half’s usually the most this shit ever takes,” Steve’s saying as he ties his shoes in the living room—where normally shoes aren’t allowed at all and the gesture of it, the automatic shift for Eddie’s sake almost makes him want to cry again, he’s so keyed up, so fucking anxious; “and honestly, it’s not even that long, most times—”

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice fucking shatters just around his name because…because this is happening, Steve is leaving, and Eddie’s, Eddie is…

“Depends on what act of the larger shitshow we’re walking into,” Steve tries to power through, but he grabs Eddie’s hand and holds it tight once his shoes are laced.

Eddie holds on harder.

“I will leave messages if I can, I’ll say they’re for my parents. Obviously they’re not.”

Because obviously.

“If I have any instructions, any things we learn to make you safe, I will call. So make sure you pay attention, but never answer.”

“Stevie,” and in being reduced to only being capable of speaking Steve’s name, apparently, Eddie comes to the immediate realization that it’s fitting. If he was left only one word in the world, it should only be the most important one.

“Don’t start to worry unless we’re gone, like, two weeks,” Steve squeezes his hand and makes to stand, makes to let go but—

“I’m worried now,” Eddie’s voice is a whine, more because he can’t control it to make it more or less—he clings to Steve’s hand in his own so hard he knows his nails have to be digging into Steve’s skin but Steve doesn’t flinch even once.

“I wanna watch your back,” Eddie whispers, staring at their hands, memorizing what it looks like: them. Together.

“You wanna watch me swing the bat,” Steve points out, tries to lighten the mood a little and goddamn him: it’s only a little, but it does fucking work.

A little.

“Also that, yes,” Eddie concedes but sobers quick, because it’s…it’s leaden, it’s so big and he is, he’s—

“I’m so scared and I’m not even the one who deserves to be.”

And Steve: Steve lifts Eddie’s hand to presses lips to his knuckles before pulling himself up and into Eddie’s chest to tilt his head and kiss him full-on.

“If there’s a next time,” Steve speaks so his lips drag against Eddie’s with every word he says; “we’re gonna get you ready for it, and you’ll be by my side, because I’m scared to let you out of my sight.”

And it’s only then that Steve pulls back, just to slam them chest to chest and wind his arms around Eddie, and Eddie’s response is to immediately do the same, until their lungs are fighting to press into each other like one entity—and Eddie wouldn’t protest, if they could. He wouldn’t think twice, if it was a choice.

“But this is the safest place this time, if they’re looking for you. If they want to,” and Steve’s voice gives out, or maybe he just can’t say it: doesn’t matter.

They both know what he means.

“You gotta stay here,” Steve breathes a little broken, and a whole lot desperate. “For me. Okay?”

And for anyone else, Eddie would fight it. Hell, Eddie a year ago would have fucking railed at least a little, still. But…not just for what he’s seen, and what he knows has got to be out there—Chrissy’s asshole of a boyfriend’s anger issues might pose more of a threat than the half-a-brain cops in this town since Hopper…well; since Hopper—but he will do it. No one will know he’s here. And no one will see hide or hair of him.

“For you,” Eddie agrees, but he can’t leave it just there; “if you do something for me.”

“Anything,” Steve’s quick to commit without even a hint as to what lies next. “So long as it keeps you here.”

And Eddie…never thought he could be loved like this. Never thought he could love like this.

He can’t fucking lose it.

“Be careful,” Eddie says, like those words hold the world, and they kinda fucking do. “Like, for real, okay? Come back to me. Come back for me. Please.”

“I will,” Steve vows, like, Eddie feels it kinda in his bones.

“Steve,” he still pushes a little, because Steve…he’s heard the stories. Hell, he knows how they got together, he has proof on his own end, no interdimensional monsters involved.

“No, no,” Steve nods, like he can read Eddie’s thoughts almost, or maybe his face gives him away. “I get it. I just, I can’t…not be—”

“You?” Eddie finishes for him, a little resigned but a lot proud, whole-ass in love. “I wouldn’t ask you to not be you. I love you, all of you. But—”

“But I get it,” Steve nods, eyes a little too bright. “I won’t leave you like that.”

Then he’s quiet, like he’s thinking something weighty over, but only for a second before he ducks his head, but still speaks more like he’s sure of the words than anything less:

“Kinda want, like, forever with you, or something, y’know?”

Eddie’s heart goes to his throat, and his breath catches before it can try to fight around the pounding, and Eddie processes the words, lets them sink in before he rasps, a little watery:

“You mean it?”

Steve licks his lips but doesn’t hesitate to nod. Eddie’s breath shakes so fucking much when he tries to get any air in.

“Me too,” he barely manages to whisper but his heart’s still in his throat; the words are saturated with it by default. “Have for,” he exhales, and his lips curve up with so much relief, so much fullness in his chest; “for a while.”

“Same,” Steve murmurs low, his gaze fucking sparkling; “the whole ‘falling fast’ thing I tend to do?” He chuckles a little. “You’ve been like,” and he airplanes one hand into the waiting ring of the other with a whoosh: supersonic. Faster than light.

Eddie feels…Eddie thinks he might fucking burst, he doesn’t know how you survive this…this. He’s never known it before. It feels…

It’s like magic, he thinks—but real.

“Stay here,” Steve’s leaning into him again, speaking straight into his open lips, directly down to his heart. “Be safe. Please. For me.”

Eddie seals it, his agreement, his devotion, his everything, by closing his mouth, catching Steve’s lower lip in a kiss before he turns the tables, does the talking straight up against Steve’s soul:

“Go out there. Be a hero. But be a safe hero. Please. For me.”

And Steve doesn’t hesitate to tip his head and cradle Eddie’s in a single second, both at once and bring them together to kiss full-on, to lick deep, to be sure in each other, with each other.

To taste the vows received and made in the heartbeats between them.

“Love you, babe,” Steve breathes into him, just before he moves back.

“Love you,” Eddie sighs, chest still heaving, heart still hammering, terrified but full: “so fucking much.”

“I love you more,” Steve volleys, playful, maybe a little tight edged but…the love wins out.

Always.

“I love you most,” Eddie tops him, the practiced exchange landing in his favor this time as Steve pouts before his grin turns sly.

“I love you mostest,” Steve counters, victory clear in his gaze.

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Eddie huffs but it’s got no weight, doesn’t want any either.

“Is now,” Steve snips back through a smile that reminds Eddie why he’ll stay here, hiding; why Steve fights in the first place: at the end of the day, it’s this, isn’t it. It’s every shade and flavor of this.

“Then I love you more than even the mostest,” Eddie declares definitively before he kisses Steve hard, fast, commits it to memory and tattoos it on his ribs, before he leans his head to Steve’s and whispers:

“Robin’ll bitch if you’re late.”

And that’s how Steve pulls back, watches Eddie every second, goes through the garage so no one will see through the door, so he can keep their eyes locked as long as possible—

And then he’s gone.

<<< Part One ~or~ >>>want some more?

For @vegasol, who requested 'Secret Relationship' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth @grtwdsmwhr @eddie-munson-addict

divider credits here and here

ao3 link here ✨

[northern-passage]

a little update.. what i'm working on/prologue changes so far:

no prologue! it’s chapter 1 now

removed the option to leave clementine behind. you have to take them with you :3c

removed height options (sorry!)

in general, edited the cc to flow better

combat preferences have been adjusted-- all still the same but i've made it more obvious how each specialty works mechanically which will hopefully make fights more intuitive to win (or lose, if you want)

genderlocked the sibling. officially a Sister

edited a LOT of dialogue; hopefully it's an improvement and feels more natural

restructured the wraith fight so that it's consistent with the fight in blackwater. with the changes made to the combat preferences this should make the combat system overall cohesive now <- i'm still working on this currently but i am HOPING to finish it by the end of this month.

i have pretty much rewritten the entire prologue. wasn't my plan at the start but here we are... so things are quite different. but also the same. i also streamlined a lot of the choices & branches and cut/combined ones that i felt were just excessive.

i plan to update once i've finished making & importing these changes, and i will probably limit the demo to chapter 1 (previously the prologue) until i get through and edit chapter 2 (previously chapter 1) because i really don't want to have the demo be inconsistent for however long it takes me to get through the next edits. hopefully this will not take that long, and then i'll put chapter 2 & and part 1/what's already been published of chapter 3 back up. and then!!! i will move on to finishing chapter 3.

i know this probably isn't the update you all were hoping for but i'm excited for the next steps with tnp :-)

[parasolladyansy]

Not me furiously taking character notes as I glean new insights about the train twins from this new Pokemas event XD

[infernothechaosgod]

after sniffin around for 50th time I accualy found something new

this is how fanny was meant to look in "epic history" from what I get these are some of her concept pages

my personal fav

SHE COULD HAVE BEEN A KNIGHT TOT!!!? she looks so cute in these

[lilac-set]

Reminder: even if trump wins, we’ll be ok. The presidency isnt the only political position that matters, he wont be a dictator, the president doesnt have the power to remove every other part of government that keeps the president’s power in check. Also politics isnt the only thing that matters. Even if we lose some rights (which he cant singlehandedly do) we still have community, we still have activism, we’ll always be ok. We survived one trump presidency, we can survive another. We survived before gay marriage or transitioning were legal, if we have to survive that again we will. Please, no matter what happens, promise to stay alive. Youre valuable, youre important, and youre going to be ok. Its better to be overprepared than underprepared. Im not asking you to lose hope (im doing the opposite of that), im asking you to practice coping ahead, get all your coping skills ready, determine now to stay alive, because i dont want any of you to make any rash decisions later in case we get bad news and emotions are high. Make a safety plan if you need to. Make sure you’re gonna be ok

[aroaceleovaldez]

Mark Oshiro confuses me a little bit not going to lie. In the press tour for the first book all they ever talked about was how Nico is their son and Will is fine I guess. Then they said like 2 weeks before TSATS came out that they didn't understand Will's character at all and it's one of the main reasons why Will has so little POV.

Possibly unpopular opinion but I don't think it's a good, encouraging sign when the writer admits to not really caring about the deuteragonist or not even having a sense of how to write them...

Yeah, no. If you have no interest in 1/2 of the POV characters of your book, you REALLY shouldn't be writing it (or at least, not have that be a main character). Especially when the main way TSATS could have been improved is if it was primarily Will-centric instead of Nico-centric. Will basically had next to no established character prior to TSATS! He was practically a blank slate! But all the new stuff we got for Will in TSATS was so clearly disinterested and had no regard for his previously established traits (or the established timeline/canon). Which is annoying because fleshing out Will would have been the PERFECT opportunity to actually incorporate a lot of the topics that Mark Oshiro specializes in as a sensitivity reader, which was the ENTIRE REASON THEY WERE BROUGHT ON AS A CO-AUTHOR!!!!

As TSATS stands, there is no reason for Mark Oshiro specifically to have been the co-author instead of someone else. It's so clearly just a PR move from RR following the huge backlash Rick received due to his response to criticism on how he wrote Piper and Samirah (and Reyna and etc etc). This was immediately following Rick saying he wasn't going to write what would become TSATS because "it [wasn't his] place to." Most of the topics that Mark Oshiro specializes in either weren't relevant at all to TSATS or written very poorly (to downright offensively) in TSATS, so either Mark Oshiro wasn't doing their job or was not able to do their job for some reason, but either way it basically makes the theoretical justification for Mark Oshiro being the co-author/sensitivity reader irrelevant.

With Will, it was HUGE fanon back in the day for him to be trans. Trans!Will and photokinesis!Will were basically the two biggest headcanons for him (both largely popularized by Cherryandsisters). We know Rick is aware of this old fanon because he canonized photokinesis!Will. If we had gotten trans!Will, that would have been great! And then made sense why we specifically got a trans co-author! (Instead, if anything, TSATS canonized Will being cis.) If we had gotten Will being latino, that would have been amazing!!!! And also then made sense as to why they chose Mark Oshiro for the job as a latinx author/sensitivity-reader, versus potentially choosing an Italian co-author since Nico being Italian/Venetian was emphasized so much in the book (and done poorly! Yknow what they could have done to fix that? GOTTEN A SENSITIVITY READER FOR IT)! Based on the themes and focuses actually present in the book, it would have been most logical to get a queer, neurodivergent, Italian co-author or sensitivity reader who specializes in those three topics at least. But we didn't! So why was Mark Oshiro chosen instead when they only specialize in one of those topics? PR reasons. It's blatantly entirely PR reasons and no actual thought or care was put into this book (or, likely, TSATS 2 either).

It doesn't help that we're also actively being told that the published version of TSATS was a rough draft. Or that their editor blatantly isn't doing her job. Or that "The Sun And The Star" was the working title that they just kept cause they didn't bother to make an actual title. And that the final version is full of explicitly last-minute scenes that weren't checked over at all (the final Bianca scene, for one). Or the ACTIVELY ADMITTING TO SOURCING IDEAS AND INFORMATION FROM FANS! That last one is kind of important because at this level of publishing that is a HUGE no-no for legal reasons. You can get into a lot of trouble for that and there is a reason why it is Ye Olde Fandom Law to never try to pitch your ideas or headcanons to the source creator(s) and keep fandom separate from the creators. There is a REASON why Rick Riordan is so distant from the community these days and it's for PROTECTION AGAINST LEGAL REPERCUSSION. Mark Oshiro being the exact opposite while also ACTIVELY ACKNOWLEDGING sourcing concepts from fans does not bode well! It has to do with copyright stuff.

It's just. So. Sighhhhhhhh >->o <- me lying on the floor about all of this. It's sad being able to see the glimmer of what could have been at the very least a decent book underneath all this. If anyone involved in the process had actually cared just the tiniest amount.

[anonymouscheeses]

Vaggie(Valerie) redesign with color yipee!!

I leaned her skin color to a more pink color(which i do for almost all my hazbin redesigns) because grey is NOT it girly imo... She has scars because of course she would! She doesn't mind showing some of them, but shes still a bit insecure. She'd always pick fights because well... Charlie doesn't exactly show off her royalty(which is on purpose here, she doesnt like being a royal and disguises herself as a sinner!) She has a fake eye on her hair to copy moths pattern on their wings. And uhh bow looks like moth antennae ofc. OH! She's wearing boots so it looks like she has fluffy boots when it's just her natural fluff!

*sh mentioned in parenthesis, below cut + alt and expression sheet vvv *

*(the scar under her sitch, plus the ones on her legs are by her spear. She's not insecure about the scars others made but she's embarrassed by the ones she msde herself so she hides them under clothing. She's suicidal... the literal only reason she is still alive is because of Charlie.)*

Nightgown design! I actually genuinely like her nightgown in the show, it does look a bit goofy tho. Not that it doesn't on my vaggie but.... she wants to look pretty while being muscular stawwpp ehttt 😭 I love when muscular women dress feminine cuz they r so freaking pretty ughh riididieiwow (Charlie is lucky) also she's wearing socks I don't want to even look at whatever tf she's wearing in the image 😨

I love her so much it's not even funny.

Expression sheet 😎

[romatito]

THIS IS A LONG ONE HOOO BOY BUT !! heres next part of the hadestown au 💃💃 in which Everyone is simply Begging their leads to fucking get a clue and talk so they can get thru a whole practice without an argument 😔👍

(i will be posting the full cast list next when I get a chance!! the only reason I haven't posted it yet is because I have been. incredibly indecisive over who would play hermes. lmfao🫠)

[talism4niac]

The sheer bitterness I feel after watching the first season is palpable💀

[ganondoodle]

working on the shiekah arm for the totk rewrite and i actively have to force myself to not try and make a mechanically sound magic tech arm bc its a magic tech arm and doesnt need to be mechanically sound

[v-arbellanaris]

still working plotting for my main fic and yknow. i see a lot of posts laughing at cassandra/the inq/justinia/whoever for wanting to recruit hawke as the inquisitor but like there's actually a lot of really disturbing tones to it, when i thought it through.

cassandra recruits cullen into the inquisition. and yeah, he comes in as a military commander, despite the fact that he has no military experience, but i think that's more related to like. the roots of the first inquisition. they later became the templars and the seekers -- cullen is military commander not because they expected to have to fight anyone but because justinia was going to use the writ to build the chantry's military strength if the bloody conclave didn't work out. cullen was hired because he's the fucking knight-commander of kirkwall, and justinia wants him to rebuild the templars. i know people like to laugh about it because it makes "no sense" but the military commander was never meant to do the kind of fighting they ended up having to do in the game -- it was intended to remake the templars. cullen trained hundreds of templar recruits in kirkwall and he's one of the only few that hasn't broken away from the chantry despite the dissolution of the nevarran accord. he's the most obvious pick for commander, when you consider what the inquisition wants.

bw canon hawke is a mage hawke who sided w the mages in kirkwall. they recruited a templar that knows him personally, that has had an antagonistic relationship with him in the later years, that knows how he works and thinks. if they had gotten their hands on hawke, do you actually think they wouldve politely asked him to lead the inquisition?

[northern-passage]

clementine

[kurithedweeb]

I just learned why Shad hates Irene in canon and knowing what I do now about everyone’s favorite the Matron, I can say with my whole heart,

What the hell, Irene

[ohmaerieme]

i will NOT fixate on my own version of mtmb that is so far removed from mtmb I WILL NOT I WILL NOT