#having a first and last name

[kokodrawings]

Role reversal AU: Sakura as Orochimaru's student 🐍

(and Sasuke as Tsunade's successor)

[milkywayes]

ONE. LAST. STEP.

revamp of this piece. because I can.

[-> get a print!]

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[umblrspectrum]

i hate perspective. happy new years also

[many-a-hues]

I love TV ❤️

[ezkel]

Regulus in James' phone: Reggie💕💕💕

James on Regulus' phone: James Potter (fiancé)

[esaari]

just Creed things

[bluebellowl]

On to deal with the real DANGER

Aiden is an OC by the wonderful @toriblayde

Part 4/5

Part 3 --- Part 5

Beginning

[kokodrawings]

Role reversal AU: Tsunade's successor

(and Sakura as Orochimaru's student)

[brbarou]

baru do you remember baru. my failgirl baru

[demaparbat-hp]

Besties being besties

[kusanagihaku]

anyway 僕に大切にされてね came on shuffle the other day and I immediately got brain worms so here’s what I think the ghouls would do if you’re over at their dorm late but have something on early the next morning.

How would they ask you to stay? 

It’s 2am and you’re half-lying on his bed, wearing a spare set of his pajamas. His covers are pulled up to mid-thigh. The warmth of his body seeps through the bare inches of space between you. 

You’ve been talking about your pasts and your futures, quiet conversation slipping around everything but the present until you reluctantly pull back slightly, and say, “I have to get up early tomorrow.” 

He looks at you then, blinking like he hasn’t realised this moment would come to an end eventually. 

His fingers brush yours under the covers. 

Jin’s fingers curl loosely around your own. Don’t go, he says. There is no resonance of power behind his words, no ring of authority, just something soft, raw, open. He shifts himself closer, silk slipping on silk, so that he’s fully lying down next to you, and you feel the lightest of tickles as his bangs brush your forehead. His breath ghosts across your cheek. Stay. 

Tohma stills. Of course, he murmurs. You’re busy. But you feel him shift his body anyway, rotating himself so he’s resting on his elbows, looking down and over at you. It takes most of your self-control to stop imagining what he would look like looming over you instead. But stay, won’t you? It’s a lot closer if you leave from Frostheim instead. 

Kaito blinks again, then jerks his hand back. Ah, of course you’re busy! You’re the inspector, after all! You don’t miss the quick flash of disappointment before he beams at you again, all sunshine and bright in the cold of his room. He makes no move to get off the bed, though, and neither do you – you bite back a smile when he flashes a glance at you again, almost guilty. You sure you can’t stay? 

Luca pulls away slightly. He was already a gentlemanly distance away from you on the bed, of course, but the silent shift backwards almost feels like a permission to leave. Before you can swing your feet off the bed, however, his fingers curl around your wrist. I do wish you could stay. 

Alan sits up. His grey sleep shirt is wrinkled from where he was slouched against his pillows, half-turned towards you as you talked. He shifts his hand from where it is burning in gentle touch against yours, and runs it through his hair instead. I’ll walk you back, he says, gruffly, but neither of you move from under the warmth of his covers. Neither of you want to. 

Leo snorts. Cancel, he suggests, blithely. What can be so important that you’d have to leave this early? What can be so important that you’d have to leave his side? He hooks his pinky into yours. You’re already wearing my pajamas. You can use my bathtub if you need to shower later. You can borrow a uniform from me tomorrow if you need to. What for go back to your crappy old dorm? 

Sho frowns. He takes your hand in his own, thumb brushing over the top of your knuckles. What do you have on? When you tell him, he tugs you closer to him, making you roll onto your side so your faces are barely inches away from each other’s. That sounds stupid, he murmurs. His eyes flicker away from your lips. Tell you what, if you stay, I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow. Deal? 

Haru groans and throws his head back. Don’t remind me, he mumbles to the ceiling. You see his mental to-do list slowly getting longer as he comes back down to reality, cataloguing all the tasks around Jabberwock yet to be finished, but he suddenly looks over at you. His hand brushes yours again, almost shy in the way it lingers. I can wake you up at sunrise. Stay the night? 

Towa pouts immediately, and rolls over so quickly he almost flattens you underneath him. His arms snake around you as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. He smells like earth, like rain, like the way flowers kiss the ground as they wilt. Don’t leave, Dandelion. His arms tighten around you. Don’t go. 

Ren frowns, and suddenly the warmth of his hand milimetres away from yours disappears. He crosses his arms tightly, looking out the window. Is it that Vagastrom mission? he says. There is something in his voice you can’t place, but his face is turned too far from you for you to figure it out. Just leave early tomorrow, what’s the big deal? 

Taiga blinks, and there is a dip on his side of the bed before you feel his head resting on your shoulder. My, my, kitty-cat, he drawls. He intertwines his fingers with yours, turning your hand this way and that. Trying to escape me early? He knows you’d never, but he turns to press his nose to your shoulder. Bet they’ll text you tomorrow morning to cancel, anyway. 

Romeo huffs. What for? then, That’s stupid, when you tell him. You can’t read his facial expression from under the pale white clay mask he has on, but the warning look that flashes in his eyes is full of affectionate disdain. Go late, he tells you, then waves off your protest. We still have sheet masks to do after this, or your skin is going to crack and you’re going to waste all my effort– 

Ritsu nods, and you see him blink away the dredges of drowsiness from the corner of his eyes before he turns to you. It’s late, he agrees, voice soft, raw. His hand does not move from where it is frozen against yours, touch melting against your fingers in hope that you will not notice. Perhaps… perhaps next time we can schedule this for when we have nothing on the next day. 

Subaru starts. Of course, he says, and bows his head. I’m sorry to have kept you so late– The warmth of dim lamp light frames the smooth of his cheek, the curve of his fringe, but does nothing to hide the way his eyes soften when you assure him that no, you did want to stay for as long as you did, you want to stay longer, in fact– Stay, then, he murmurs, sudden and fierce. Please. 

Haku laughs, warm and low. What for? When you tell him he just hums. I’ll walk you there tomorrow. His fingers brush against yours again, then curl around your own, steady, sure. When you look over at him his eyes glow gold in the gentle leftover of moonlight that has diffused through the rain and spilled in through his screen door. It wraps you in starlight, in muted resin, in the irresistible want to have this moment with him last forever. It’s late, princess, he says, softly. His lips brush your ear as he leans in. Stay with me. 

Zenji makes a noise of surprise, eyes flickering out the window of the cathedral to look at the moon. Oh, of course, my dear, he exclaims, and hovers slightly above your bed. I completely lost track of time, it was so entrancing just talking to you… He worries noisily after you and your schedule for a moment before he pauses, wringing the doll between his hands. If you don’t mind… can I… can I stay? 

Ed yawns and stretches. You humans and your schedules. You’re always so busy with things so insignificant… He leans over, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes. His pale face is lit only by the cold white of his iPad screen, now left forgotten in the space between you. He searches your face for a moment, before saying, Wouldn’t you rather stay with me? 

Rui jerks back, then forces a chuckle. Sorry I lost track of time, you know I don’t really sleep… You bite your lip. The warmth of his hand, even if it was through the blanket and his glove, felt so real, so– Rui extracts himself from under the blanket. The laugh he gives you as he shifts away is pained, almost, but hopeful. It’s a long walk back from Obscuary to your dorm, though. We’ve got so many guests rooms… Stay, won’t you? 

Lyca scrunches his nose. Fine– he starts to say, but stops. He glances at you, almost shy, before his eyes dart back to the soft of his covers. You watch him twist the blanket between his fingers for a moment before he grumbles, still not looking at you, What do you have so early, anyway? Just ask that blonde gigolo to do it for you. 

Yuri sniffs. He sneaks a glance at you, almost as if he is calculating how much you mean it, how probable it is that you’d leave his side. Walking back to the health hazard you call a cathedral will take far too long and take too much of your precious sleep time, he decides, then shifts so the flush climbing up his ears is nearly completely submerged under his own covers. Stay, he huffs, and shuts his eyes tight. Goodnight. 

Jiro glances over at you. And? He watches impassively as you try to explain that you have to leave now so you’d get enough sleep, before a small smile creeps up his lips. His pinky brushes yours again, a little less accidental, a little more warm. You can just stay in Mortkranken, he says. We’ll just wake up earlier tomorrow to make up for it. 

first time trying this hc format 0: kinda like the prose this time ngl lmk what u think!

you can find english lyrics to the song here!

[uss-butterscotch]

Yet another between seasons 3 and 4 fic

Eddie tries to unravel the mystery his newest sheep are caught up in that somehow involves Steve Harrington

Part one

- - -

Eddie wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the group of freshman he had taken into his group, but it certainly wasn’t them claiming to be buddies with the disgraced king Steve Harrington. It had started when Henderson had asked how long Hellfire meetings would go.

The little twerp rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well I need a timeframe. Steve said he’d give me a ride home after, but he’s not just gonna wait in the parking lot forever.”

“Yes he would, and you know it.” Wheeler retorted before Eddie could respond.

“Well yeah, but he already spends like no time with people his own age outside of work, it’s getting a little sad.” Henderson said, and Eddie was starting to wonder who this Steve guy was. ”I don’t want to add another reason for him to not have friends.”

“What are you talking about?��� Sinclair joined in. “He’s like constantly hanging out with Robin.”

“Yeah! And he refuses to make a move on her! I think he’s lost all his game. And sitting in a parking lot for hours waiting for a group of nerdy freshman isn’t gonna help.” Henderson replied dramatically.

When Dustin had first brought him up, Eddie had figured Steve was like, his stepdad or something. But the more it went on the more lost he got.

“Okay, okay,” he interjected, stopping their weird conversation before it could get any weirder. “Whoever this Steve guy is, you can tell him to pick you up at eight.”

“Oh, you probably know him.” Dustin said, which Eddie highly doubted, since the only Steves he knew were his uncle’s poker buddy, and the former jock/bully/general asshole that was Steve Harrington.

“He graduated last year.” He continued, and that narrowed down the list of Steves in a unpleasant way.

“You’re not talking about Steve Harrington.” Gareth said, looking up from his lunch for the first time during the conversation.

“Yeah, we are.” Henderson replied, and Eddie shared a look with his friends.

“No way Harrington spends his free time driving you twerps around.” Eddie said, thinking if he was a character in one of his campaigns he’d be insight checking them all so hard right now.

“Unfortunately he does.” Wheeler said lazily as he pushed his meatloaf around his tray.

“Nobody’s forcing you to get in the car when he picks us up.” Dustin snapped.

“What, and ask Nancy for a ride? That’s worse.” Mike responded.

“All of you shut up,” Eddie called, once again derailing their strange conversation spiral. “Let me get this straight: King Steve has no friends besides some band geek that he can’t even manage to date, and spends his free time driving a bunch of freshman around?”

When none of them answered him he threw his head back, cackling. “Oh this is too good.”

He kissed his hands and threw them up, as if beckoning to the heavens. “Oh it’s all true! What goes around truly does come around.”

He was too busy reveling in the downfall of the personification of everything he hated to notice Henderson’s simmering rage across the table from him until he slammed his fists on the table. “Steve’s a good guy!” He shouted.

Eddie gave him a dangerous look. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dustin asserted. The kid had guts, he had to give him that.

“Tell that to Jeff in freshman year, with his head in a toilet while Harrington egged his buddies on.” Eddie pushed.

Dustin looked between him and Jeff briefly, but his defensive aura didn’t waver. “He’s not like that anymore.”

Eddie scoffed and leaned away from the table. “Yeah, and I live on the moon with my fairy godmother and a million dollars.”

Dustin had apparently heard enough, because he picked up his bag and stormed away. Wheeler and Sinclair watched him go for a second, before sharing some kind of psychic communication. Eventually Sinclair got up and followed after him.

“Oook what’s his damage?” Eddie asked.

Wheeler sighed. “He and Steve got really close last year. Dustin was in some trouble and Steve helped him out. And then the thing with Billy, and the-“ he stops abruptly before continuing “the mall, and now I guess Dustin sees him as like, a big brother or something.”

“Ok that explains like, nothing.” Gareth says, “The thing with Billy? You mean when Hargrove smashed Harrington’s face in last year?”

Mike nodded. Unhelpfully not explaining further. Giving them a look like they were the crazy ones.

“And what does that have to do with Henderson?” Eddie prodded.

Mike huffed and crossed his arms. “He was there. We all were. Billy was looking for his sister and she was hanging out with us, and he said some shit about her not associating with ‘people like Lucas’, and then he attacked him, and Steve stopped him, but Billy fought dirty.”

Mike shook his head and looked away. “We thought Billy was gonna kill Steve before Max was able to stop him.”

Eddie shared a look with Gareth and Jeff, trying to judge if they were buying it. It was no secret that Billy was an asshole, and a violent one at that. Wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to believe he was a racist too.

“Ok, so Harrington got is face beat in to stop a racist asshole. That doesn’t cancel out all the shitty stuff he did before.” Eddie stated.

“Yeah, also, you mentioned the mall?” Jeff cut in.

“Yeah.” Mike said like it was obvious.

“The one that burned down?”

“Yeah,” Mike was picking at his fingernails now. “We were there for that too, with Steve.”

He looked like he was thinking hard for a second before continuing. “We got separated in the fire, so I don’t actually know exactly what happened, and they don’t like to talk about it, but when shit was going down Dustin, Steve, Robin, and Lucas’ little sister got in a pretty bad situation. The way Dustin tells it, Steve got them out, but he got pretty hurt in the process.”

“Jesus Christ, is there any disaster in Hawkins you guy’s weren’t there for?” Eddie said.

Mike gave a humorless laugh. “I wish.”

They all let Mike’s story sit for a second before they all started firing off more questions.

“What was Steve even doing hanging out with you guys when Billy showed up?” Jeff asked.

“So you’re trying to tell us he’s some kind of hero for saving Dustin from the mall fire?” Gareth added.

“Come on, Wheeler, he dated your sister, you can’t really think that highly of him.” Eddie finished.

Mike squinted at them for a moment before scoffing, “Honestly, none of it is any of your business,” he turned his gaze to Eddie, “and yeah, he did date my sister, and he was kind of douchebag like two years ago. And for the record, I don’t even really like him that much, but he did save mine and my friends’ lives more than once, so I think I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and not automatically assume he’s a complete asshole.”

At that he also grabbed his bag and his lunch tray. “I’m gonna talk to Dustin, try to get him to see your side of it, but maybe you guys should try to see ours.”

Eddie watched him follow his friends out of the cafeteria. Shaking his head. “Man I never pegged them as the type to hero worship some jock.”

Gareth shrugged. “Sinclair maybe, I overheard him talking about joining the basketball team last week, but Henderson? No way Harrington puts up with him.”

“Maybe if Henderson cools off by Friday we’ll see if Harrington really is there to pick him up.” Jeff mused.

When Friday came around, find out they did.

The session ended up going until about 8:30. When Eddie called it a night and Henderson looked at the clock, he started packing up in a hurry.

“Shit, Steve’s probably pissed we kept him waiting.” He practically shrieked.

“Dude, chill out, he’s probably just out there failing to chat up Robin. Again.” Lucas said, collecting his things at a more relaxed pace.

Dustin barely had time to hear him though, as he raced out of the room with a hasty goodbye to the rest of the group.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Steve talks a lot of shit, but if it really pissed him off that much, he wouldn’t do it.”

Eddie paused his organizing of his dice to shake his head. “There you go again talking like you’re friends with Harrington.”

“Whatever, thanks for the great session, Eddie. See you on Monday.” Lucas said as he left.

Wheeler was still there, taking his sweet time packing up his things. “What, King Steve’s not taking you with him?“ Eddie asked.

“Oh, he is. I just like making him wait as long as possible. Plus, his and Dustin’s dumb secret handshake takes so long they’ll probably still be doing it by the time we get out there.” Mike replied, rolling his eyes.

“They do not have a secret handshake.” Gareth said, incredulous.

Mike shrugged. “Believe whatever you want man, all I know is that it makes us about 5 minutes late to whatever we’re doing.”

Eddie shared a look with the rest of his friends, simultaneously deciding that if this secret handshake existed, they had to see it for themselves. They left their stuff behind and made their way out to the parking lot to see what must have been the end of the handshake, which consisted of what looked like a brief light saber fight and Dustin spilling Harrington’s imaginary guts on the pavement.

“What the hell,” he whispered as he watched Harrington animatedly ask Dustin how it went.

As Henderson talked, he watched Harrington wave to Lucas across the parking lot and notice Eddie and his friends in the doorway. His smile faltered slightly, becoming a little awkward, as he waved to them too.

Eddie’s brain was too busy trying to process everything he was seeing to have the wherewithal to do anything back. Looking back on it, he wished he would have stuck his tongue out in his signature devil move, but alas, he’d have to save that for another day.

As he watched, Henderson got in a fight with a girl in the front seat of Harrington’s beemer. At first he thought it was a little odd that Harrington would bring a date to pick up a bunch of high schoolers from D&D, but then he recognized her. Robin Buckley, the band geek the freshmen had mentioned was Steve’s only friend.

Eventually, Harrington broke up the fight. “Henderson you can sit in the front when you’re the one who just got off a 5 hour shift on a Friday night.”

He watched Buckley stick her tongue out at him through the window as he joined Lucas in the back. Then Harrington checked his watch almost anxiously. He opened the driver’s door and said something to the kids in the back. When he reemerged from the car he did something Eddie never would have expected. He started walking towards them.

Not only was he walking towards them, but he was looking at them almost like he was about to-

“He guys, is uh, is Wheeler still in there?” He asked, looking between the four of them. He sounded almost nervous. Good Eddie thought, let him squirm.

“No actually, we had to sacrifice him for our satanic ritual.” Eddie replied, his brain finally catching up to the situation. His friends snickered behind him.

Harrington had the audacity to look worried, like he almost believed him, until he looked behind them and apparently saw what he was looking for.

“What the hell is taking so long, dipshit?” He asked.

“If I’m not allowed to say dipshit in front of you why are you allowed to do it?” Mike fired back without missing a beat.

Harrington just rolled his eyes, somehow resembling a tired parent. “Just get in the car, I was almost worried you fell into the-“

He stopped abruptly, not unlike the way Mike had the other day, Eddie noted in the back of his mind, and glanced at the Jeff, who also seemed to notice.

“…Toilet.” Harrington finished lamely, and was met by a classic Mike Wheeler judgemental grimace. He cleared his throat and added, with a hint of annoyance, “Just get in the car, Wheeler. Your sister will kill me if you’re not back by 9.”

The evening’s surprises kept coming when Wheeler, for maybe the first time in the month that Eddie had known him, dropped his pinched expression and sounded almost sincere when he mumbled “Sorry, didn’t mean to like, actually scare you.”

Steve just nodded in reply. As Mike made his way to the car, Harrington lingered for a moment looking like he was trying to convince himself to do something.

“Hey, uh,” he started eventually, “thanks for lookin’ out for them.”

And with that he gave another awkward wave and walked a little too briskly back to his car. Eddie had a brief thought that he should probably stop watching them, that he should head back inside and stop thinking about it, but found himself unable to look away as Harrington got into the car, yelled something to the back seat, and pulled out of the parking lot.

They were gone for a long moment before Gareth spoke up. “Ok so Harrington’s definitely been replaced by some sort of alien robot or something, right?”

“Yeah I’d say that’s the most likely explanation.” Eddie said, still staring at the spot the car had disappeared from.

Part 2

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This wine tastes like pigs blood!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nakialli]

something something at the end of all things etc

[zondearts]

Dove/need