#i'm gonna say this is pretty close after he's been made into bologna face.]

[heard-nsfw-is-back]

The last of us stranger things

"Uh... hey Steve? Want to come look at this?" Eddie has taken to just showing up at Steve's house. Almost weekly. It would be fine if he'd call ahead but no. Steve was in the kitchen for 5 minutes and Eddie managed to break in. "What is it Munson? I'm busy." He's making lunch. Apparently now for two. "Seriously Harrington come here." The tone bugged Steve enough that he came over pretty quick. A news caster was talking about evacuation processes. Saying something about a pandemic of sorts. Some kind of virus was making people sick. Nothing concrete or even made up which wasn't great from any news source. "Oh shit. We need to go. Help me pack." Eddie nodded absently still going over the report. "Munson!" Eddie jumped and looked over at Steve. "Help me."

They had grabbed some food and clothes and as much water as the van could carry. "We have to go to my place." Steve looked over. "What why?" Eddie leaned forward and pointed. There was a mob of people scrambling over each other or cars trying to run from something. Then a couple was pushed down as someone went for their legs. It was worse that they couldn't get a good look, panicked brains unhelpfully making up sounds and smells.

"OK yeah your house." Steve threw the car in to reverse and drove off. Guns and medical supplies suddenly became very very important. "Hey man. I'm sorry I keep coming over and stealing your food and stuff." Eddie grabbed Steve's arm. Steve looked over and smiled. "I have food. You're hungry. What else is food for?" Eddie gulped. "I'm also sorry for stealing your hair gel." Steve kept driving but was confused. It must have shown because Eddie continued. "I mean I don't use it obviously. My hair looks great without it." Steve snorted and rolled his eyes. "I just think you'll look ridiculous if you don't use it. Which is true, you do." Steve self consciously brushed his hair back. "Hey I thought it was apologize hour go back to that." Eddie laughed, a small scared thing.

"I'm pretty sure we're gonna die. I mean zombies? Seriously?" Steve pulled over and cut through grass to get away from the bumper to bumper traffic. Then he slammed the break and put the car in park. He grabbed Eddie's face and pulled him close. "We are not dying. No one is dying. We are going to your house, getting what we can, then going to some stores that hopefully aren't over run and get some more stuff. Then we are going to find some place to stay. That's the plan. No dying is the number one rule. Team Not Dead. Got it?" Eddie licked his lip and nodded.

"Also do that more often." Steve added after a beat. "Do what? Have a small heart attack over zombies?" Steve rolled his eyes and started driving again, letting go of Eddie's face. "No. Licking your lip." Steve glanced over and smiled. A sharp wicked smile. "Although I could be persuaded to lick them for you." Eddie folded in on himself and stared out the window. "Harrington of all the times I've been to your house we could have been grinding nasties instead of eating your bologna?! Bullshit."

[godblooded]

@rejectory has requested the fucked up journalist. 

your own house growing up (it wasn’t ever a home, was it? people had to make it feel that way) wasn’t even as big as this. but the vergers are old meat and so are you, after all, or so was the crellin family (sometimes, even for how your heart aches whenever you look at amma, you’re glad you’re a preaker, even though that’s not much different). you might’ve been raised that way, but you’re certain you don’t have anything left of that you. might’ve existed for a brief second, maybe in the days of cheer, but it never stuck with you long.

(you don’t think parts of adora you hate her you hate her, mama are too clear in you, but damned if you’re not fuckin’ terrified of them. sometimes your hands are soft and you remember tucking amma in and then you remember your skin singing like it used to, the way you hadn’t wanted it to anymore, the way you thought you’d gotten rid of. the word blood throbs just once somewhere on your chest.)

it smells like lilacs here, and that’s not surprising to you. you grew up around stockyards, and while you figure it might always smell like death, it doesn’t. goes to show, sometimes, there are good things even amidst the trash.

the great part about big places like this is i’m sorry, i got lost is your back-pocket excuse. the smell of horses, however? that’s inescapable. the stable’s the ornate kind of thing you think adora would swoon over and then remark backhandedly about over mimosas unreasonably early in the morning. 

you are looking for margot verger-- or her brother mason, but you’re really less curious about him. you needed a big assignment, and this is enough of one. it took you hours to convince curry into it.

you’re not really sure where the front door is, but you are sure it’s somewhere, so what does a little looking around hurt?