#He has no plan. He has no healthy outlet for his feelings. He is looking at his half naked crush and losing his shot.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy.

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#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #tulu xuanwu #blood #Vomit on his sweater already; mom's spaghetti #I love drawing teenji because he gets to be a lot more expressive than Older Lan Wangji. #wwx is trying so hard to be supportive and it keeps backfiring for lwj. #“There's no way I would ever want you carnally ^_^” meanwhile the guy who wants him carnally is losing his mind in agony. #Hot tip if you keep finding yourself in Lan Zhan's shoes: consider being more obvious. Give up on trying to be subtle with an ADHDer. #His game is SO BAD. Abysmally bad rizz. I do not think it was possible for these to to have a chance to get together in this life. #He has no plan. He has no healthy outlet for his feelings. He is looking at his half naked crush and losing his shot. #F in the chat for Lan Zhan. He's just been accidently rejected and he is about to be accused of being straight. #Meta commentary moment: I am going to try very hard to be more consistent with outfits and details across comics #I have had some...difficulties in the past with forgetting details (COUGH the vermillion mark COUGH) #New year new goals! Wish my ADHD eyes and brain good luck!

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 26**

So much happening in this chapter so it's a long one! And a happy chapter! Again, this is a series of scenes I've had in my head since the beginning, the events that take place as they finally make it to New York and I had a lot of fun planning them and finally writing them.

Series Master List

Warnings have their own post, please heed them if needed

Word count: 14k (you'll either hate that or love it 😅)

Morrow, the raider, turns out to be a decent guide. Either that, or the thinly veiled threats Pope hisses at him as he tugs on the man’s rope keeps him perpetually terrified enough to not try anything. He leads you all on back roads that avoid towns and main routes, and the closer you get to New York, the more confident he gets as he takes you into buildings, skirting around hordes of infected. It’s clear that this is territory he’s crossed many times as a smuggler, just as Frankie and Pope had around Arlington. 

It takes almost three days of walking to reach Hoboken, the broken New York skyline slowly getting closer. You only realize you’ve reached the city when you see a shattered sign that reads Hoboken Beer & Soda Outlet, hanging off a bombed out building. 

“You’ve done good, Morrow,” Pope says to the young man, as you all catch a glimpse of the Hudson River between demolished buildings. 

“Thanks,” he replies, less nervous now than when he first started out. He’s still restrained but as he continued to lead you safely through the devastated urban landscape of New Jersey, the guys became less hard on him, sharing rations and making sure he was at least as comfortable as the rest of you at night. You thought it showed some humanity on the guys part but Frankie shook his head when you brought it up, out of earshot of Morrow. 

“We treat him well so that he feels less inclined to fuck us. If we treat him fair he’ll think we’ll let him go without harm once we don’t need him anymore and that makes him want to make sure we’re happy with how he aids us.” 

“But you’re not gonna let him go?” you ask, glancing over at Morrow where he and Pope are discussing the best way forward towards Sinatra Park. 

Frankie shrugs, “We’ll let him go, but we’ll probably hand him over to FEDRA once we get to the intake area.” 

Morrow had told you about the FEDRA intake area located at Sinatra Park in Hoboken. It was a small temp QZ where people were scanned, assessed and then allowed to take a boat across to the main Manhattan QZ if they passed. According to Morrow, most people were admitted as long as they were healthy. The QZ needed people to rebuild the city, the hope was to bring back some sort of normalcy inside the walls. He’d said there was even talk of a vaccine research facility, FEDRA attempting to locate and bring in any surviving vaccine researchers from across the country. It sounded hopeful but like most people, you were jaded at this point. You’d settle for a safe QZ devoid of fascist tendencies, decent food and an apartment where Frankie could make good on his promises about where he wanted to spend his time. 

“C’mere, guys,” Pope waves Benny, Frankie and you over to where he’s been talking to Morrow. He points to a building about a block away, it’s been bombed and is tilting precariously to the right. “The plan was to go through that building, that’s the way they’ve been coming, the boat they use to sneak across the Hudson is moored on the other side. But, look at that,” he points to the first floor corner, bright orange and red tendrils visible through a broken window. “Morrow says those are new.” 

“Fuck,” you hear Benny hiss behind you, and you mirror his sentiments. The bright red and orange hues means fresh cordyceps growth. Someone in the building has been infected, died and now the fungal growth is creeping out from their body, seeking out new ways to spread itself. Step on it and any infected within several miles will feel it and come running, the large underground mycelium network working to alert every part of a potential threat or victim. 

“So we’re not going through there,” Frankie says and Pope nods. 

“No, clearly not. The only other option is the building next door,” he indicates a large red brick building on the other side of a partially destroyed street. The building looks unharmed and the large glass door to the ground floor coffee shop stands open. “But that building hasn’t been cleared by anyone in a long time according to Morrow, it’s even possible whoever is responsible for the new cordyceps growth came from it.” 

“So potentially a nice little horde of infected?” Benny sighs, pulling off his cap to run his hand through his hair and shoving it down again, backwards as usual. 

“Probably not a horde, we would’ve seen more growth coming out of the building and I see none, but yeah,” Pope shrugs and looks back at the three of you, “definitely potentially infected inside.” 

You take a deep breath and look over at Frankie, he’s looking at his boots, adjusting the leg holster on his thigh and he feels your eyes on him, looking up to meet them. You don’t even have to say anything, he takes a step closer, his hand finding yours, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance. 

“Are there any options of going around, Morrow?” he asks the young man standing next to Pope. 

“I don’t know how far we’d have to back track, the main path to Sinatra Park used to be a few miles back and further north but FEDRA blew up those buildings about a year ago because it got swamped by a horde.” 

“So we either face this potentially infected building, or we backtrack and definitely have to deal with more infected,” Frankie looks over at Pope and Benny. “We’re pushing our luck the longer we stay out here, traveling through this kind of area I mean, we’ve already been out here three days.” 

“Yeah, I agree,” Benny says, “we go slow, be careful, and go through this building, dealing with anything we find. It’s better than going into unknown territory.” 

“Ok,” Pope nods, “we go through here then, everybody ready up.” 

“What about me?” Morrow asks, his voice worried, “I don’t wanna go through there with my hands tied.” 

Pope looks over at the three of you and you nod without thinking, letting him into the building with his hands tied would be cruel, and where is he going to run to now? Benny and Frankie seem to agree and Pope cuts the cable tie that’s around Morrow’s wrists. 

“Do I get a weapon?” he asks and Pope scoffs. 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

Pope takes the lead, Morrow behind him with Benny taking up the rear as you all as silently as possible enter the building through the open doors. Inside the entrance you get a better look at the busted coffee shop, looted of anything useful years ago it seems. Tables and chairs are scattered across the interior, broken mugs on the floor, but thankfully no sign of fungal growth. Pope glances back and signals for you all to move towards the back door of the coffee shop, you can see it hanging half open next to the Please dispose of your trash here sign on the back wall. 

You hold your breath, gun in hand and pointed towards the floor, as Pope puts his shoulder to the door and carefully pushes it open. The hinges protest slightly, a low squeak making you all freeze and listen intently. When nothing stirs, Pope slides off his backpack and slips through the opening. One by one you do the same and follow him through. Behind the door is a hallway, lined with cardboard boxes filled with supplies for the coffee shop and knocked over trash bags that makes the place reek of years old fermented coffee grinds and rat droppings. You pull the top of your sweater over your mouth and nose, wrinkling your face at the stench. 

Pope spots a sturdy looking door at the end of the hallway, it looks like it leads to the outside and you pray for it to be that easy. But of course it’s not, as you get closer you see Pope mouth a silent Fuck, there’s no door handle on the door and it’s locked tight, he gives it an experimental shove. Turning back he motions down a hallway that runs along the outside wall, at the end of it is what looks like an internal fire escape staircase. Pope makes a couple of hand signals, and you all nod, up the stairs, try to find a way out and down to ground level again. 

Pope and Morrow silently climb the stairs, Frankie and you following close behind. At the top is another door, leading into a hallway with doors on one side and three windows lining the opposite wall. Holding up the door, Morrow lets you all through it before he silently lets it slip shut, only the faintest click as the lock catches. But it’s enough to elicit a noise that you know too well.

The second you hear it, everyone freezes in their tracks, the tell tale sound of a clicker somewhere nearby, the screeching like inhumane fingernails over a chalkboard. You bite back a whimper, briefly closing your eyes as Frankie’s hand shoots out and grabs yours. 

Everybody knows the drill, spreading out and silently finding cover out of sight. The clickers’ echo location, their screeching, works in the same way as a bats. Even if they can’t see you, when they screech towards you, the sound will bounce off your body and tell the clicker exactly where you are. Staying hidden and silent is the only way to escape them. They can be killed by a gunshot to the head, but that noise will attract any other infected in the building. The best, but very dangerous, way to kill them, is to sneak up behind them and stab them in the head, hoping they don’t suddenly turn and hear you. Killing them straight on is almost impossible, the infection giving them inhuman strength. 

The space upstairs seems to be made up of a number of small apartments, the doors to them all open, four in total down the length of the hallway. There’s no shelter in the hallway and you all shuffle into the nearest apartment. Pope signals window back to Benny and Frankie and they nod.

“How?” you mouth to them. How will you all sneak out into the hallway, open a window and climb out without alerting the clicker? It seems impossible. Pope opens his mouth to whisper a reply when you hear feet dragging across the hallway and the tell tale sound of the clicker’s screech. 

You move immediately, as quietly as possible you all sneak further into the small apartment, Frankie pulls you down behind the kitchen counter in one corner, Pope and Morrow duck behind the couch on the other side of the apartment door. 

You turn around and glance towards the door and your stomach drops as you see Benny. His back is pressed against the wall and you realize what he’s about to try. His hunting knife is in his hand and he’s poised, ready to strike as the clicker staggers into the opening of the door, stopping and screeching loudly into the room. The grotesque creature, fungal growth erupting from down the middle of its head, obscuring almost all human features, lurches into the room. Benny makes his moves, the knife makes a sickening crunch as it connects with the clicker but it jerks out of the way and his hand slips, the knife sinking into the neck instead of the temple. Instantly the clicker wrenches itself away from Benny who struggles to get the knife out of its neck. You see Pope rush forward, the clicker screeching, the sound being answered by another screech somewhere in the building. Benny’s knife is still lodged in the clickers neck, Benny’s got one hand on the handle, another around the clickers neck, desperately trying to keep the snapping jaws away from himself. Pope skids around the clicker, his own knife drawn, avoiding the creature's flailing arms, and sinks it down to the handle into the soft tissue of the temple. The clicker screeches again, going limp under Benny’s grip and Pope wrenches his knife out and jabs it in again, twisting it deep in the fungal growth that’s taken over inside the skull. 

Another screech goes up just outside the apartment door and you yell a warning to Pope, he’s just by the door, struggling to wrench his knife out again. The second clicker slams into him and Benny scrambles to shove the body of the first one out of the way, reaching out to stop the infected from sinking into Pope’s neck. Frankie rushes forward, pushing past you as Morrow bolts from behind the couch, heading for the front door, ducking around Pope as Pope gets his arm up under the creature's neck. 

Benny grabs onto what’s left of the clickers jacket and it staggers back, slamming into Morrow who tumbles with a yelp as the clicker rips itself from Benny’s grip and snarls. It’s a tangle of limbs, the clickers wide open mouth, tendrils waving from its maw, Pope kicks frantically on the floor as Morrow’s arm hits him over the head. Morrow fights to get back on his feet, the clicker scrabbling to latch onto any living thing. It takes only seconds, but you feel like you’re watching in slow motion when Frankie reaches the clicker, gun in hand, and fires directly into its temple. 

Both Pope and Benny stumble back, shoving the clicker away, on top of the first one. Morrow sinks down against the door, breathing heavy as Benny drags Pope to his feet. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you ok, Santi?” Benny yells, searching any of his friend’s visible skin. Frankie rushes forward too, pulling back Pope’s collar to check. Pope breathes heavily, running hands over his throat, his chest, wrists and finally ankles and legs. 

“I’m good,” he exhales before drawing a long breath in, “You?” he asks Benny who nods. 

“Yeah, they never got close enough.” 

“Guys…” you say, and they turn to you. You’ve crossed the small apartment and you’re looking down at Morrow. He’s silently staring at the back of his hand, blood and teeth marks clearly visible, his hand is shaking as he lets a sob escape, turning to look at the four of you. 

“Fuck,” Pope exhales, the four of you are frozen in front Morrow, his fate sealed. He looks up at you all with fear in his eyes. 

“Please, kill me,” he sobs, “please.” 

Frankie reluctantly raises his gun, aiming at the young man's head, but you quickly put your hand on his arm, “Wait;” you say, “Is there anyone in New York you want us to give a message to, someone who should know?” 

Morrow gasps for air, sobs threatening to take over as he shakes his head, “Just tell the captain I’m sorry I fucked up.” 

“Your FEDRA captain?” you ask. 

“No, The Captain, he’s my boss, and my friend I guess, he’ll find you once you’re inside, just tell him I’m sorry.” 

“Ok, we’ll tell him, don’t worry, Morrow.” Frankie glances over at you for confirmation that he can carry on, and you look at Morrow who nods, closing his eyes. The gunshot is painfully loud in the small room and it makes you wince, the young man slumps over against the wall, his eyes still closed. 

The irony of it is that it doesn’t take you long to get to Sinatra Park once Benny’s forced open a window and you’ve all scrambled down the side of the building. A few short, easy blocks, and then you’re standing again in front of FEDRA soldiers with guns trained on the four of you. Morrow was so close to making it.

You’re quickly scanned, all of you negative, and let into the small temporary QZ area. So quick and easy, you almost feel guilty. Morrow had led you safely through the urban hellscape that was New Jersey, and then, at the last moment, he’d fallen. 

“He was trying to run,” Frankie says, to make you feel less guilty but even if that was right, who were you to blame him? The clicker went for Pope and you’d been frozen, Frankie had saved him while you remained frozen to the floor. 

“We all have our strengths and weaknesses, cariño,” his thumb running over your cheek as he cups your face, “your job is not to take down clickers. Your job is to be mine, let me be yours, keep me sane, grounded, give me purpose.” He’s leaned his forehead against yours as you blink back guilty tears. 

“But what if it’d been you, and I was frozen while you were attacked by a clicker?” 

Frankie shakes his head, “I don’t think you’d be frozen if you were on your own with me or Ben och Pope, you’d be as ferocious as you were with Myers or when we first came to Arlington,” he’d said, his thumb still gently caressing the apple of your cheek. “You find your courage when you need it, I’ve seen it.” 

“I want us to find his friend, The Captain, and tell him, we owe it to Morrow.”

“Yeah, we will, I’ll ask around when we get to Manhattan,” Frankie pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping around you, and you close your eyes, trying to not see the clickers and Morrow’s last moments in your mind again. 

You’re all kept at Sinatra Park  for a few days while they gather enough passengers for the ferry ride over to Manhattan. While you’re there you’re supplied with ration cards for food and supplies, a simple paper ID card and an address for your new accommodations. Once in the QZ you have three days to get settled, then you need to report to FEDRA’s work detail to be assigned jobs. 

The ferry to Manhattan is surreal, it’s really just an old sailing boat, and you sit on deck, watching the broken skyline glide closer. It’s a beautiful day, late August, warm sun on your back and glittering water. If it wasn’t for the jagged, crumbling ruins of skyscrapers you’d think you were on a romantic weekend break with Frankie, taking a sightseeing tour on the Hudson. The illusion shatters the second you step ashore though, your papers are checked and then you’re scanned again by FEDRA before you’re let through the final checkpoint. 

Once on the other side the four of you made your way to an address on the Upper West Side. You can’t help but giggle as you see the building, you’re in a fucking brownstone on the Upper West Side. The area is less bombed than other parts of Manhattan, so most people live here now, but still. You and Frankie are now living in a studio apartment within spitting distance of Central Park, worth more before the outbreak than you and Frankie earned combined in probably about ten years. If it wasn’t for the whole ‘end of the world’ thing, you’d be ecstatic. 

You’ve been given accommodation in the same building as Pope and Benny, they’re just a floor below you two. Frankie and you had registered as husband and wife with FEDRA in Arlington, even if you’d never had a wedding or a ceremony. There had been some religious men of different faiths in Arlington who’d married people for a few ration cards, but it seemed so pointless to you both. Frankie was yours, and you were his, a glum ceremony in the apocalypse wouldn’t make any difference. So when FEDRA asked how you were related, he said you were his wife and then you were. The ring was still on your finger, the three diamonds a permanent reminder of the little threesome you’d almost become. 

Walking into your new apartment feels like a massive relief. You love Benny and Pope and you’re happy they’ll be just downstairs, but to finally be able to close the door behind you, and have your own place with Frankie again, it makes your breath a deep contented sigh.

Frankie drops both your backpacks on the floor and wraps his arms around you from behind, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. 

“Wanna check what the water pressure’s like?” he mumbles, his hands already slipping up to cup your breasts through your t-shirt. 

“Oh god, a shower…” you moan, “I’d forgotten about showers.” 

Frankie chuckles into your ear, “I’ve been dreaming about showers for a month.”

“You’ve been dreaming about us in a shower for a month,” you correct him and you can feel his chest vibrate as he laughs. 

“True,” he says, grabbing the old Ikea bag filled with towels, sheets and hygiene supplies you’d been given when you’d been assigned the apartment, “so make my dreams come true, hermosa.” 

“Cheesy, very cheesy,” you laugh at his wink but accept his hand as he pulls you through the small studio apartment. It’s just a room, not a very big one even, with an alcove for a double bed at one end, kitchen at the other. Apart from the front door, there are only two doors, one leading to a tiny storage room, the other on to the bathroom. It doesn’t have a bathtub, just a small shower in the corner with a glass wall shielding the rest of the room from the spray. 

“If we try anything sex related in this shower we’ll either soak the room or injure ourselves,” you say, giving the small space a critical look. “Bedroom?” 

“You mean the bed in the middle of the living room? Sure. But I’ll let you shower before I make good on that hour between your legs,” Frankie grins, “Make you think about how I’m gonna let you test the sound proofing in this building.”  He pulls you in by grabbing your ass, his mouth finding yours as he pushes you up against the counter with a playful growl. You giggle into his mouth as he grinds into you. 

“Never known a forty year old to be so horny, Frankie, you’re hornier than the guys I dated when I was a teenager.” You laugh as he growls into your mouth, his rapidly growing cock firm against your hip.  

“Wish I’d known you when I was a teenager,” he mumbles, his lips moving down your jaw when he suddenly pulls back, “No, wait, the sex would’ve been terrible, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing back then.” 

“Inexperienced little Francisco Morales? I would’ve loved that too,” you chuckle, pushing him off you. “I’m gonna shower, make the bed and I’ll let you show me your new moves.”

“You already know all my moves,” he nips at your bottom lip with a smirk before leaving.  

The pressure in the shower is low but at least the water is hot and clean, steaming up the small bathroom. Frankie comes in after a little while and sits on the toilet, peeling off his layers as you dry off and step out. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes on your damp curves and you have to slap his hand away with a smile. 

“You’re all grimy, Frankie, shower first, then hands.” You wink at him and quickly jump backwards out the door as he tries to catch your ass. 

The bed must’ve been the one originally in the apartment because it is nice….you groan as you sink into the large plush mattress. Or it might just be that you’ve spent most nights on a camping mat, because it’s like a cloud under you. By the time Frankie comes out of the shower, his damp curls like a halo around his head, you’re almost asleep. 

“Nice bed?” he asks, grinning down at your sleepy face as he crawls on top, caging you in as he drops onto his forearms. 

“Very nice bed,” you reply, smiling as he sinks down further to take your bottom lips between his teeth, making you open your mouth for his tongue. His warm body is like a weighted blanket over you as he slowly works to replace your sleepiness with arousal, when you let a first soft moan slip out he pulls back and looks down at you.

“Still tired?” he smiles as his warm hand grabs the back of your thigh and slides your knee up, opening you up to the heavy weight of his erection. 

“Yeah, but you can keep going, if you’re good enough I won’t fall asleep.” 

You shriek with laughter as your comment makes him slip down and blow a wet raspberry into your belly button, squirming under his fingers.

“So cheeky, as if you could fall asleep with what I have planned, hermosa,” he purrs, slipping down further to nose at the top of your slit. You feel his fingers caress the smooth skin on your thighs and spread you open as he makes room for his shoulders, the sight of his broad back between your legs never ceases to turn you on. You reach down to thread your fingers through his curls, making Frankie hum into your core. 

“Time me, cariño, I said an hour,” he says, unfurling his tongue and letting the tip run the length of your fold. It’s such a slow, teasing movement that makes you clench around nothing, gasping as you sink further into the bed, trying to stop the giggle from getting the better of you. 

“I don’t even have watc-oh shit, Frankie….” 

You wouldn’t be able to say if it’s an hour or not, you lose track of time as soon as he starts teasing your clit, it has been a long time since there was time or safety enough for this. And you’ve missed it, holy fuck you’d missed it. His hot mouth pressed against your core, the thick tongue sliding into your entrance as his perfect nose circles your clit. He groans into you, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as you fist his hair, crying out as he pulls the first orgasm from you. He pulls back, strokes your hips, letting you catch your breath before he moves up over your damp skin, trailing wet kisses over every inch he can reach. 

“Your old moves still work, Morales,” you smile at him as he reaches your mouth. Tasting yourself on him always makes your arousal flare up again, something about him mixing with you. He chuckles, letting his hand slide down between your legs. 

“I noticed,” he says, his damp nose sliding down over your jaw as he slowly slips in a finger, “and you taste just as good as I remember.” 

He lets his fingers open you up before he leaves your mouth, moving down between your legs again. This time his fingers slowly fucks in and out of you while his groans, vibrating over your clit makes you cant your hips against his face, chasing his tongue. He leaves you hanging, just on the edge, with a pained protest, as he removes his fingers. 

“Turn over,” he says, his voice rough, helping you onto your belly, “keep your ankles crossed.” 

“New move?” you ask with a grin over your shoulder, earning you a nip on your butt, before he runs his tongue over the mark. 

“Maybe, I had an idea in the shower,” he gives you a crooked smile and bends down over you, pushing your head down to place a wet kiss on your neck, keeping you flush against the bed.

“Push your hips up, baby, like this,” he grabs your hip, guiding them up against his own. His heavy cock pushes in between your thighs, his hand guiding the head to run through your slick folds. The angle and your closed thighs makes him feel bigger than usual, the stretch making you moan into the sheets as he pushes in, his heavy pants blowing hot air over your neck. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” he growls, he’s moving his hips, shallow thrusts into you as he slowly works his cock deeper in. “So fucking tight, hermosa, gorgeous girl, so good to me…fuck…can you take more?” 

“Yes, please, Frankie, more,” you turn your head to find his lips, messy and uncoordinated as he groans into your mouth. He’s struggling to hold himself up, each thrust makes him want to fall over you, grind into your wet heat and cover your body with his own. You push back against him, taking him deeper as the angle pushes his hard cock to drag over every nerve ending inside you. The tight fit of him is making you whimper as he snaps his hips faster, grinding into you as he bottoms out. He’s pushing you into the bed, his heavy body trapping you under him as each thrust rubs your clit against the soft cotton sheets. Each groan from him makes your pussy clench harder, your orgasm suddenly hitting you, the sheet bunching in your fists as you cry out. 

Frankie stutters and curses, a string of filth in Spanish slipping out as your pussy tightens around him. 

“Where, cariño, where, I’m…fuck…close.” 

“Inside, it’s ok,” you moan, his erratic thrusts making your climax hum through your body, arching up against him as he cries out. He suddenly drops down on you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a growl as heat fills you, he’s shuddering, his face buried against your shoulder, with a low gasp, he exhales. 

“Fuck…” he moans, his mouth pressed against your skin and your hear the smile in his voice, “Fuck me that was intense,” he chuckles, panting as he tries to catch his breath. 

“I think we ruined the sheets on the first try,” you laugh, flopping onto your back as he pulls out with a hiss, his spend dripping down your thighs. “I know, but it was worth it,” he puts his head on your arm and lets you pull him onto your chest, his head resting on your shoulder. “I’ll sleep on the wet patch.”

“I think you need a haircut,” you smile, pushing back his damp curls from his forehead. His hair has gotten long since you left Arlington, “a haircut or a ponytail.” 

“Imagine Pope’s face if I turned up with a ponytail,” he chuckles, closing his eyes as you rake your fingers through hair, his breathing slows down and he hums, moving his head to give you better access, “I always love when you do that.”

“I know, Frankie,” you whisper, pulling the covers up over you both, Frankie’s warm body pressed against you. 

It takes a few days for the four of you to settle in and start picking up odd jobs. You try to get a job in the FEDRA kitchen but you’re turned down, apparently any job inside a FEDRA facility is reserved for family members of FEDRA soldiers. And since none of the guys have any intentions of joining FEDRA again, you resign yourself to the same odd jobs as the guys. But there are other plans, and they start taking shape only a week after your arrival in New York. 

One of the benefits of the four of you living practically next door is pooling your resources and making them stretch further. So most nights finds Frankie and you in Santi and Benny’s apartment, cooking dinner and hanging out, months on the road together had knitted you together into a family more than ever now. Their two bedroom apartment was bigger than what you and Frankie had and the kitchen had room for a large table where you often found yourself, if it wasn’t your turn to take care of the food. 

This evening Benny’s peeling potatoes while the two of you wait for Frankie and Santi to get back from their job. They’d both signed on to dig up a new field for vegetables in a nearby park and it was hard work that left them tired and dirty each night. So when the front door opens and Pope steps in, grimy and sweaty, you throw him a sympathetic look. 

“Hey, Santi, you’ve got time for a shower, dinner’s not ready yet,” you wave at him and he grunts a thank you, toeing his boots off. 

“Frankie went to shower at your place, he’ll be here soon,” he tells you, pulling off his shirt as he heads towards the bathroom. 

You lay the table and warm up some arepas while the potatoes boil on the stove. The door opens again and Frankie arrives, looking tired but smiling at you as you drop the last arepa on a plate and go over to him. 

“Hello my sweet man,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in the damp, now shorter, curls at his neck. 

“Hello, mi vida,” he smiles back, his hands finding their way to your waist before he pulls you in for a kiss. Blame it on being safe, or the amount of sex you’ve had the past week or maybe ‘that time of the month’ hormones, but you can’t help but deepen the kiss, licking into his mouth and relishing the little surprised moan you pull from him as you tug at his locks, keeping him tight against you. You hear Benny sigh, pointedly, behind your back but Frankie’s got the message now and his hand is sliding up your back to grab your neck and hold you firmly against his mouth. The ‘welcome home’ kiss turns into a much more heated affair, dragging on until you finally have to pull back for air, Frankie’s lips chasing yours for a final press before he opens his eyes and smiles at you. 

“You guys done now?” Benny huffs, mock indignation in his voice, from the kitchen. 

“No,” Frankie says, his hands trying to get you into his arms again as you giggle and turn your back to him, pulling him into the kitchen. 

“Sorry, Benny,” you apologize while your husband pulls you down onto his lap on one of the kitchen chairs, making you squeal when his fingers dig into your waist. 

“I swear you guys are worse than teenagers,” Benny sighs but you hear the smile in his voice. “And Frankie, it’s technically your turn to do dinner so you owe me one.” 

“Yeah, I know, we got delayed on the way back, we worked with a guy today who had some interesting information and we wanted to talk to him.” 

“What kind of information?” you ask as Santi walks in, fresh from his shower. 

“Remember ‘The Captain’ that Morrow mentioned, his boss?” he says, dropping down on a chair across the table from you. “Turns out, he’s the main boss, the guy who runs the smuggling in the QZ. And according to this guy we worked with today, he’s elusive. When you buy from the smugglers, you buy from one of his guys, never from him, he stays hidden because he’s pretty high on FEDRA’s wanted list.” 

Benny puts down a stewpot on the table before he straightens up and looks at Pope, “Why is that interesting? Do we wanna meet this captain guy just to tell him Morrow died? Seems like a lot of hassle if the guy’s a ghost.” 

“If we’re gonna start smuggling again we need to figure out how, and if this guy runs smuggling in the QZ, we need to work with him, or take him out. But,” Pope says, holding up his hand to silence Benny who’s opened his mouth again, “the guy we talked with said they haven’t been able to supply as usual the past few weeks. And we know why.” 

“You guys took out a bunch of his guys….” you say, nodding as it dawns on you. 

“Exactly,” Pope grins, “we’ve already started undermining him, there’s a gap in the market. So we pick up their slack, send a message and we have a better chance of getting in on the smuggling market.” Pope looks pleased with himself as he starts scooping up stew onto his plate. 

“Isn’t it pretty likely that The Captain is gonna be pissed off when you start taking his customers?” You look down at Frankie, he’s been quiet the whole time, his hands holding you steady on his lap. 

“Yeah, most likely,” he agrees, “but we can handle that, and it means he’ll be more inclined to work with us, if we’re already supplying what he can’t.” 

You look at Frankie, chewing your lip, you have more things to say about it but you don’t know how to say it without sounding dismissive. Truth is, you’re worried it’ll be a lot more dangerous than in Arlington; a rival gang, new territory, new connections need to be made and new routes, all while staying under FEDRA’s radar and avoiding any infected. But you can’t tell them not to, smuggling makes them use their skills, the things they’re good at and at the same time bring in things you all need. And you know their smuggling made a difference to the people in Arlington. When FEDRA rationed food and medicine too harshly, what Frankie and Pope brought in could help someone who needed it and at the same time keep you all fed. 

They make plans during the dinner and you don’t say much. Frankie notices your silence and he doesn’t like it, his hand keeps reaching out to touch your leg, wrap his fingers around yours, or pull you closer as you all stand from the dinner table. You feel his worried eyes on you as Pope and Benny pour over an old New York map, strategizing. He can see your mind working and he has an inkling about where it’s going. 

You bring it up later, when you’re alone and back in your own apartment. Frankie’s crawled into bed, pulled down the covers for you to join him, but you remain standing after you come out of the bathroom. 

“I want to be part of the smuggling,” you say and Frankie drops his chin to his chest, this is where he feared you were going. 

“I know you don’t want me too, but, firstly, I am not sitting at home waiting for the three of you while you’re away doing something dangerous. Again. I did that in Arlington and it sucked.” 

Frankie opens his mouth to protest but you cut him off. “And I know you said you need me safe to be able to focus out there, but we’ve been traveling across the country for months and we, all of us, work well together. And you know I can handle myself.” You kneel down on the bed in front of him, making him look you in the eye, “Let me be your lookout, or let me do the trading while you three stand behind me and look like bad asses.” The last thing makes Frankie give an involuntary smirk and you smile, “Frankie, you know it makes sense, I’m a good asset, I can be useful too.”

“I knew you were going to bring it up again,” he says, sighing while he traces his fingertips across your temple to push a strand of hair behind your ear. “If it was anyone else, I’d say yes straight away. But it’s you.” He stops and locks eyes with you, those warm brown eyes you’ve loved from the very beginning, anxious, “You’re everything to me, and the thought of you getting hurt, or worse, scares the shit out of me.” 

“The thought of you getting hurt scares the shit out of me too,” you say, letting him pull you closer, his arms looping around your waist so that you're sitting on his lap, knees on either side of his hips. “But it scares me even more to think about you getting hurt when I’m not there. Frankie, my very worst nightmare is you just disappearing, and I don’t know what happened to you, like what Hannah had to go through with Will, never knowing.” 

“That’s my worst nightmare too,” he whispers, his voice low and pained. 

“So don’t make me wait at home for you again,” you plead. He tilts his head and leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes with a sigh. 

“Ok,” he breathes, “ok.” 

It takes a couple of weeks for things to get set in motion, gather the necessary supplies and information to start thinking about leaving the QZ on a smuggling run. FEDRA has taken the rifles but you’d managed to hide your handguns in your backpacks so you weren’t entirely without weapons at least. The first run is short but successful, Pope seems to have a knack for sniffing out passageways. After studying the map and walking around the north eastern end of the QZ for a few days, he’s found several potential entry points into old service tunnels that should run under the wall, next to the bombed metro tunnels. With you as a lookout, the three of them try two before getting lucky in the third one. It’s relatively undamaged, free from infected and leads straight to the 116th street Metro station in East Harlem. The entrance to the metro is blocked off but it doesn’t take the three guys long to clear a narrow passageway that they can easily hide from the outside.

A few days is also spent clearing two more ways in and out of the QZ. Pope has told you about how he’d learnt the hard way to never just have one route. Early on in Franklin the tunnel he’d used had collapsed while he was outside the QZ. He was trapped with no way back in so he had to crawl through the rubble of the collapsed tunnel, narrowly escaping two runners, who came through from a broken wall. Pope was flippant about the way he told the story, making you laugh, but he also told you he’d never been that close to death before or since, even in the army. It was a sober reminder to always have an escape route and he was adamant about having at least two back ups. 

Finding connections takes a bit longer, building trust isn’t easy in the best of times, and these are not the best of times. But not surprisingly, it’s Benny who brings in the first real trade and solid connection for future deals. He meets an older man at one of the odd jobs he takes, clearing one of the streets, a rough and far too heavy job for the older man. Benny, in his usual manner, helps the man get through the day so that he can collect the ration cards he sorely needs. Grateful, the man tells Benny he has a sister who lives up in New Haven who sails down to Orchard Beach and trades in a number of things. 

“She and her husband can get you almost anything you need, just place an order with The Captain’s gang and they’ll sort it.” 

“What if I wanna trade directly with them? I can go out there on my own if I have to.” Benny asks and the old man hesitates, but Benny’s good natured charm serves him well and a few days later he has a time and a place to meet the old man’s sister.

The sister’s name is Jodie Graham, her brother contacts her via one of the two non-FEDRA radio centers set up, and vouches for Benny and his friends and the four of you set out for your first trade. It takes you only half a day to get to Orchard Beach, despite it being slow going in the bombed and ravaged terrain. The trade goes well, Jodie and her husband Damon seem relieved to see a woman together with the three big men flanking you. Despite their best efforts at looking non-threatening, they fail as they approach. Guns at their sides and heavy boots, they look very much like the ex Special Ops soldiers they are. It’s clear that it’s only her brother’s word that lets the four of you approach the boat they’ve come in on. 

You don’t have much to trade with them yet but this first time feels mainly like a show of good faith. 

“Any prescription drugs you can trade with us, we’ll be interested,” Jodie says, “that’s something we can’t seem to get from other smugglers. And the other New Yorkers, the ones who work for The Captain, they’re always reluctant to trade it.” 

“Why?” you ask, you’ve been doing most of the talking, it felt natural when Jodie seemed to trust you more than the three men behind you.

“A misplaced sort of moral it seemed like,” Jodie scoffed, “as if anyone cares about drug addictions today, seems like one of the nicer ways to go.” She takes the bag of coffee beans you’ve handed her, “They won’t trade them, but I’ve got plenty of people who want them, so if you get your hands on any, we’ll pay very well for them.” 

“I’ll see what we can do, we haven’t got any at the moment,” you say, keeping your tone non-committal. You already know you won’t be trading any drugs, it was a line Pope had drawn in the sand early on. One you wouldn’t be prepared to cross with Frankie’s history either. But it spiked your interest about the rival New York gang, maybe it was a common ground you could start with, some sort of honor among thieves, or smugglers in your case.

“Any supplies you need for your ship?” you ask, “We might be able to get you extra gear for it, there’s plenty of boat clubs around Manhattan and most of the supplies in them aren’t of much use to anyone without a boat.” 

“Yeah, any sail cloth you can find, and rope,” Jodie says and you make a note in your book to search around the Manhattan coastline before the next trade. 

Once you’ve agreed on when to connect again on the radio, the four of you make your way back towards Manhattan. By the time you get back to the apartments it’s late but you’re all in a good mood, the day has been a success. 

You do four more trades with Jodie and Damon, filling your backpacks with an assortment of goods each trade, before the first hint of trouble crops up. Jodie’s the one who gives you the heads up. 

“I like trading with you guys, you’re punctual, well prepared, and never give me grief, so I’m gonna warn you,” she says while Benny and Pope fill the packs with wares. Frankie and you are standing guard, keeping an eye on the beach. “The other guys, The Captain’s gang, they’ve noticed that someone’s taking customers, and they’re not happy.” 

“You still trade with them?” Benny asks and Jodie nods. 

“Yeah, of course, I’ll trade with anyone who’s fair, and they’ve been doing this for years now, always been decent. They had a slump but they were out here a couple of weeks ago.” 

“Did you tell them about us?” Pope asks, glancing up at Jodie, unable to hide his annoyance and she scowls at him.

“I’m not stupid, I didn’t say anything. But they asked, didn’t they? Asked if I’d been approached by another gang and I said no.” 

Pope closes his backpack and looks over at Frankie and you, you’re both still facing away from the ocean, but obviously listening to what Jodie’s saying. 

“Did they say how they know there’s someone else?” you ask over your shoulder. 

“One of your customers didn’t want what they usually trade, said they had another source.” 

“Fucking idiot,” you hear Frankie say under his breath and you have to agree. You’d asked all your customers to be discreet. Your excuse being that you didn’t want FEDRA to find out, but you also wanted to keep things low key until you were established enough to have a good deal to offer The Captain. The last thing you needed was a gang war, fighting over territory. 

“Thanks for the heads up, Jodie,” Benny says, hoisting his bag up onto his back. 

“Watch your backs, they seem pretty pissed,” she gives the four of you a final wave as you turn back towards the city. 

Jodie’s warning makes you extra cautious when you leave the QZ, but you didn’t expect them to find you inside the QZ. Benny makes the door frame rattle as he slams the front door to the apartment as he and Frankie come in. You and Pope jump to your feet from the couch at the sight of the two men.

“What happened?” you gasp, gently taking Frankie’s chin in your hand and tilting it up so that you can get a better lock at the gash over his eyebrow. 

“We got fucking jumped,” Frankie growls, wincing as you brush hair from his forehead, it’s got stuck in the dried blood that’s smeared across his face. 

“The Captain’s gang,” Benny expands, “must’ve followed us into that warehouse down by the high line we were planning on checking out. Five of them, think I lost a fucking tooth,” he grimaces and grabs his jaw. 

Pope’s peeled off to the bathroom and now he returns with the first aid kit, pointing both men to the couch. 

“They even said, and I shit you not, ‘regards from The Captain’ before they attacked, like we’re in fucking West Side Story or something,” Benny snorts, wincing when the movement makes blood drip from his split lip. 

“Any internal injuries?” you ask Frankie as you help him take his jacket and holster off, he’s grimacing as his shoulder twists. 

“No, I don’t think so, they got a couple of good hits in, but that was it. One guy slammed me shoulder first into a wall, but I didn’t dislocate it.” 

“Please tell me you took care of these fuckers,” Pope growls while you grab alcohol and gauze to clean Frankie’s cut.  

“One got a way, which is good I suppose, sends a warning to the others,” Benny says, “the other four we eliminated.” 

“Gun fight?” Pope asks and Benny nods. 

“We had to-fuck! Be careful!” he yelps when Pope prods a cut on his forearm. “I want her to do it,” he points to you, “better bedside manner.” 

“Just shut up and tell us what happened,” Pope says, rolling his eyes at Benny’s wincing. 

“We had to run,” Frankie says, “Only one of them had a gun, which was lucky, but a FEDRA patrol obviously heard the shots and we had to bolt. Didn’t even get a chance to get a good look at the warehouse or what they’d were carrying.” 

“How did they know it was you?” you ask, “It’s worrying if they know what we look like, we won’t be safe in the QZ.” 

“Someone we traded with must’ve told them, Benny does stick out, easy to recognise.” Pope holds up his hands apologetically when Benny protests, “sorry, but it’s true, you’re a huge blonde dude, not many guys are built like you.”

“We’ve got a trade in three days, outside the QZ,” you remind them, “we’ll have to be extra careful, this is a new trade too, it could be a set up.” 

“You wanna cancel?” Frankie grabs your hand as it comes down from his forehead, his eyebrows knitted together in that familiar worried look. Glancing over at Benny and Pope you think it over, if you said you wanna cancel it you know they’d go with it, somehow you’ve become the one who says yes or no on a trade, trusting your gut instinct implicitly. 

“No, this connection came from Jodie, I can’t see her setting us up,” you decide eventually, “but maybe we take a different route this time?” 

“Sounds like a smart idea,” Pope agrees, “I’ll have a look at the map.” 

You turn back to Frankie and clean up his knuckles, they’ve split where he’s hit someone, and place bandaids on the larger cuts. When you’re done he wraps his bandaged arm around your waist and pulls you closer on the couch, enough for him to bury his face into the crook of your neck. You can feel him inhaling deeply as his hand fists the back of your shirt and you dip your nose to his soft curls, sweaty and kinda dusty smelling from the day. 

“I’m glad you came back in one piece, Frankie,” you mumble and he nods against your neck, pulling you tighter. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know why he does it, a silent thank you offered to the universe for letting him return home to you one more time. 

One of the first things you traded Jodie for, in exchange for a large, brand new sail, were two walkie talkies. Battery powered, they were invaluable if you needed to split up. And today, with the new trade going down, they served their purpose. And in light of the new situation with the rival smugglers, Pope led you all out of a different tunnel, a detour, but worth it to minimize the risk, and bringing you out at 125th Street Station. You were meeting your new contacts at a nearby park down by the river and since your first meeting with Jodie you’d worked out a system where one of you stayed behind and kept watch from afar. Pope knew the city best and he would suggest a spot for a trade where he knew there’d be a good vantage point for someone to keep an eye on things. This morning youcame out early to the meet up point, taking time to make sure the lookout point was clear before the three men left you up there with one of the walkie talkies and a rifle. You weren’t the best shot, but you didn’t really need to be. So far everything trade had been smooth, but if things did go bad, a few shots from a hidden sniper would make anyone run for cover, whether or not you hit them. But the real advantage was that you were able to give the guys a bird’s eye view of the area and a head’s up if something seemed off, your gut instinct serving you well. 

This morning all of you were on edge, the attack on Frankie and Benny making you extra nervous. It was difficult to say if it was the knowledge that The Captain’s gang was after you that made you jumpy, or if something was wrong with the trade. You’re splayed flat on your belly at the edge of a broken window in the half bombed out apartment tower, using the scope on the rifle in place of binoculars, those being next on your list of things you were hoping to trade Jodie for. Nothing stirs in the wide open park next to the river and when you scan the streets you can see from your perch, everything is quiet. You watch the three men make their way down a street and into the park, disappearing briefly from view before they reach the agreed upon location. In the distance, on the other side of the park, you see two men walking across and you relay what you see to Frankie, he’s got the other radio today. 

The trade goes off without a hitch and you watch as the two men retreat across the park, back towards the small White Plains QZ that’s up north. It’s when you swing the scope back towards Frankie and the others that you see it. Three men crouching behind a car further down the street your guys are walking down. Fumbling for the radio you hit the button. 

“Catfish, three men hidden behind a white SUV about a block and half down the street. Over.” 

“Copy that, Jefa.” 

Jefa… The call sign they’d given you still made you roll your eyes, and was only ever allowed to be used in situations when your real name shouldn’t be used. It had been Pope’s idea, of course, but Benny loved it and Frankie conceded that he couldn’t call you ‘cariño’ over the radio or in front of traders. So Jefa, boss, it was. 

You didn’t feel very bosslike as you watched them slowly walk down the street, you could see Frankie telling them about the three men. At the next crossing they turned down a side street and you lost sight of them. 

“Jefa, we’re going to flank them, let me know if they move. Over” Frankie’s voice came over on the radio almost as soon as they disappeared from view, you could hear them running along the street. 

“Ok, I’ve got eyes on them, they’re still stationary. Over.”  

Frankie clicks the button on the radio and follows Pope’s back down the street, Benny close behind. There’s a small neighborhood park, a ballpark only really, at the back of the block and they cut across it, quickly covering two blocks parallel to the main street they were on. It’s only a few minutes before they turn back towards the street again and they slow down, moving silently. They come out just below the black SUV, expecting to see the three men but the street is empty. 

Frankie brings up the radio, “Jefa, come in, did they move? We can’t see them. Over.” He clicks the receive button and waits for a response while Pope and Benny quickly scan the street.

 “Jefa, come in, do you copy? Over.” Only static comes back over the radio and lead drops into his belly. His eyes meet Pope’s at the same time as the realization hits, decoy. Benny curses under his breath and looks towards the tower, while Frankie tries the radio one more time, already starting to run towards the building. 

“Loop the chain around it, it’ll hold her,” the voice comes from far away as you blink your eyes open in the darkness. “The captain’s gonna see her when he gets back.” The voice, a grumpy sounding man’s voice, retreats and you hear a door closing and locking. The back of your head hurts, as does the side of your face and the side of your ribs. 

You’d heard them just a couple of seconds before they were on you, in the tower, someone’s shoe scuffed against the floor and you turned, but you weren’t fast enough to get off the floor. As you blink again, trying to shake the darkness around you, you feel the handcuffs around your wrists, and a chain rattles. It takes a few more seconds before you realize you’ve got a hood over your head, the scratchy material making your nose itch. The world is tilted sideways and it takes you a few tries to get upright, the handcuffs are tight behind your back. You wobble, almost tipping backwards, but a wall stops you from falling and you gratefully lean against it, trying to collect your thoughts, stopping the panic from rising in your throat. 

Breath, in and out, stay calm, always number one, stay calm. Fuck, easier said than done, Frankie.

Focusing on your breathing, mentally going through your body to check for any serious injuries, you suppress the panic to the pit of your stomach, making you feel nauseous but it’s manageable. For now. 

You don’t know how long you’re left sitting on the floor, you really need to pee, so it’s probably a pretty long time. When the door finally opens you’re stiff, hungry, pissed off and not happy about the rough hands that suddenly yank you off the floor. It takes all your willpower to not snap at whoever is shoving you through the door, a hard grip on your shoulder, an equal measure of anger and fear making your legs jellylike. 

The air feels raw and it smells like you’re in a basement, being taken down a hallway, up some stairs and into a warmer room. Through the tight weave of the hood you see the light change, this room is brighter than the room downstairs that you were kept in, and it smells like food, making your stomach grumble 

“This the lookout?” a man asks from behind you. 

“Yeah, she was right where you said they’d put someone, perfect view of the park. Had a rifle and a radio.” 

“Nothing if not predictable,” the first man says, as he moves through the room, you hear the springs of a couch or chair squeak as he sits down. “Who are you working for?” he asks. 

It takes you a few seconds to respond, something is triggering at the back of your mind, the rough, low cadence, the accent so familiar. 

“I don’t work for anyone,” you reply eventually, “I was just asked to be a lookout for a few hours, easy ration cards.” It’s a weak lie, but you’re not about to give them any more information than they obviously already have and your answer seems to have given the man food for thought as he doesn’t reply straight away. 

“Let’s show her some good faith,” he says, talking to someone else in the room, “Get some water and some of the leftover rice.” There’s a word of protest from behind you but he cuts them off, “What’s she gonna do? She’s handcuffed and hooded, let’s treat her nice.” 

The door opens and closes as someone leaves. The man left in the room gets off the couch and comes over to you, you flinch as you feel his hand grab the hood. He pulls it off and you blink against the sudden bright light. 

“Holy shit, it is you…” the man whispers and as you see his blue eyes it hits you, the voice, the cadence, William Miller. 

You lose your voice as tears well up in your eyes and Will puts his hand on your cheek, partly checking the cut you most likely have there, but also almost checking to see if you’re real. And you could ask the same of him, if your voice wasn’t cut off by a sob. His smile is watery too and he makes you stumble as he suddenly pulls you into a bear hug, so reminiscent of his brother’s hugs.

“I can’t believe it’s you, you’re here, how the fuck are you here?” he asks incredulously, pulling back from you and you grin, trying to swallow down another sob. 

“I’m with Benny,” you choke out, “And Frankie and Pope.” 

“Benny’s alive?” Will eyes go wide, he’s holding on to you with both hands on your arms, “he’s here in New York?” 

“He was with me this morning. They all were and- “ you’re cut off by the sound of boots in the hallway and Will throws the hood over your head again. “You don’t know me,” he hisses before stepping back and you’re left confused as the door opens again. 

“We’ll take her down again, let her eat, and then I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an agreement,” Will says, his voice sounding rough again, giving an order to the other man. Will’s hand takes hold of your arm, turning you around and you’re marched back the way you came, downstairs and into the damp smelling room. 

“Take off her cuffs, chain her to the radiator, so that she can eat.” Will leaves you standing in the middle of the room but before he lets go and leaves, he gives your arm a quick squeeze. The other man locks a chain around your ankle and removes your handcuffs, leaving the hood on while he leaves the room. 

It’s good that he does because you don’t think you’d be able to contain the grin on your face. Will is alive! William fucking Miller, alive and well in New York! And a smuggler…that thought hits you like a brick, Will is a smuggler, and Benny, Frankie and Pope have been taking out his guys, his friends. And Will caught onto that faster than you did, that’s why he put the hood back on. Whoever the other guys are, they won’t forgive you or the guys for stomping in on their territory and killing their guys. Even if it is Will’s brother. And Will knows that. 

“This could get really fucking messy,” you whisper under your breath as you pull off the hood and sink down on the floor again. 

Again you’re left on your own for several hours, the sun moves outside the small window high up on the wall, sinking low before it goes dark outside. Your thoughts keep flitting between joy at Will being alive and how happy the others will be when they find out, and worry about your three guys, Frankie especially. You know they’ll be in the process of tearing up the city to find you, putting their considerable talents to use to force information from anyone who might have some.

There’s a bare bulb in the room and at some point someone turns it on, casting yellow light over you. More hours pass and you start to wonder if you’ve been forgotten down here, or if something’s happened to Will. You’re also half expecting Frankie and the guys to burst in, guns blazing, in some wild rescue mission. Falling asleep is impossible, you’re too anxious, so when you finally hear footsteps outside the door, you’re already on your feet. The door opens and Will steps in, closing it softly behind him. A few quick steps and he envelops you in another bear hug, longer this time, and you can finally put your own arms around him too. He’s just as big and imposing as the last time you saw him, almost six years ago, a little bit more tired around the eyes, a few more silver strands in the blonde hair and you give yourself a few seconds to just enjoy the fact that he’s alive and here. He seems to do the same, holding on to you for a long minute before he finally lets go and steps back. 

“It’s so good to see you, Will! I kept thinking it was a dream all day, but you’re actually here,” you say, grinning down at him as he crouches to unlock the chain around your ankle. 

“Same, I kept thinking I was being delusional,” he chuckles softly and stands up, “When I heard your voice under the hood, I immediately thought of Frankie, that’s how I knew it was you.” 

“You were faster than I was, I heard your accent and I couldn’t figure out who it reminded me of,” you smile, poking his chest just to make sure he’s real again. “You look good, Miller!”

He smiles but it drops off his face as something hits him, “You said you’re with Frankie, Pope and Benny?” 

“Yeah, we got to New York a few weeks ago.”

“And Hannah?” 

His question hits you like a punch to the gut, you can’t stop tears welling up in your eyes, you have to shake your head and drop your eyes, you can’t look at him as the realization sinks in. 

“Do you know what happened?” he asks, his voice low and you force yourself to nod, the image of Hannah in Benny’s arms flooding your mind as you feel tears run down your cheeks. Will suddenly pulls you into a hug and you press your face to his chest. He’s holding you almost too tight, and you hear him inhale deeply, a long, ragged intake of breath, before he exhales and lets go of you. 

“Tell me later, when you can tell me everything. I need to get you out of here now,” his voice is rough but determined, “I want you back with Frankie before he kicks down my door with a shotgun.” 

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” you reply, your voice shaky but you swallow down the tears, hastily wiping your cheeks as Will goes for the door. Making sure the coast is clear he waves you forward and silently you make your way down the hall and up the stairs. It looks as if you’re in an old office of sorts, long hallways, conference rooms on the sides. The place is dark, only the dim light from the outside comes through in places, but Will knows his way. He leads you to what looks like a backdoor. 

“I can’t leave, it’ll raise too many questions,” he says when the two of you reach the door. “Where do you live? I’ll come find you guys tomorrow.” 

He opens the door and glances outside, stepping out a second later. You hear a door behind you open as you follow Will out, and Will grabs your arm, pulling you out fast. 

“What the fuck?!” comes an angry, gruff voice, “What the fuck is going on, captain?” 

“Nothing, Conway,” Will says quickly, “Go back to your shift, our guest wasn’t feeling well, I’m taking her out for some air.” 

The man looks you up and down and back to Will, he’s got his hand on your arm, still holding the door open and you’re frozen, staring at the man. 

“Where are her fucking handcuffs?” He takes a few steps towards the door and Will squeezes your arm, and you take a step back. 

“Turn around, Conway, and go back to your shift, that’s an order, I’ve got her.” Will’s voice is solid, clearly in command, but it doesn’t work on the man .

“You’re either about to fuck her or let her go,” he says, another step towards the door, “and if you’re doing the first, I want in,” he leers at you, “If you’re doing the second, then we’ve got a big fucking problem, captain.” 

“I’m just letting her get some air, now turn around and walk away, Conway.” 

“She’s got air now, so bring her back in then,” he challenges, he’s at the threshold now, only a step away from Will. 

“Conway,” Will says, taking half a step back and glancing back at you, “You really should know when to walk away.” The punch comes out of nowhere, Will swings and hits Conway’s jaw with a sharp crack and the man drops, his head making a nasty thud on the floor just inside the door. Will shakes out his fist and bends to grab the man’s limp body. “Get the top of that dumpster,” he says, motioning further down the alley, and you run over, pushing the lid back as Will grabs the man and tosses him over his shoulder. Whatever happened to Will in the past six years, it certainly hadn’t impacted his brute physical strength, he barely makes a noise as he hoists the man into the metal container and you slide the lid shut. 

“Ok, wait at the end of the alley, stay out of sight. If I’m not back in five, go home, I’ll find you there.” 

You nod and make your way over as Will disappears inside the building again. You wait anxiously in the shadows by the street but it doesn’t take long for Will to come back out. This time he’s got a jacket on, a backpack and your own backpack, gratefully you take it from him and the rifle he hands you. 

“Let’s go,” he says, stepping out into the street. 

“Are you leaving them?” you ask in a whisper as you follow him, nodding at the backpack and his gear. 

“Yeah, I’ll tell you more later but it’s been coming on for a while, I’ve been wanting to punch Conway for months.” Will pulls a disgruntled face as you hurry through the quiet streets. There’s a curfew in effect as usual and you stay in the small alleys, hurrying across any avenues. You’re pretty far from the Upper West Side and it takes you over an hour to make your way back, Will telling you bits and pieces of what’s been going on while you duck in and out of shadows. 

“I got reports a few hours ago, the guys took out four more of my guys, they’re trying to find you”, Will says as you skirt around Central Park. 

“We were taking out your guys, Will,” you say, “Aren’t you pissed at us? We basically came in and started taking over your business.”

“Not pissed, just annoyed,” Will looks over at you and shrugs, “you did what I’ve done many times over, I have no right to be mad at anyone coming in and trying to take over the smuggling. I did the same thing, only I was successful. And since then, there’s been several attempts at trying to take over from me.” Will gives a low chuckle, “I’ve got to say, no one has come as close as you guys, you put a real dent in my operation, I was getting worried. The fucking irony of it being you and the guys, my own fucking baby brother.” 

You can’t help but smile, Will has a point, the guys had used their Delta Force tactics against the one person who really would know how to counter them. That’s how Will had known there’d be someone in the apartment tower. 

“And now they’re trying to find you, and I can’t blame them,” Will says as you stop and crouch, waiting for a FEDRA patrol to drive past. “I wouldn’t wanna get between Frankie and you. I’m assuming he’s as crazy about you as always?” Even in the dim light you can see Will’s smile. 

“We got married,” you say, holding up your left hand, “not in a ceremony of anything, just registered as husband and wife with FEDRA.” 

“Congratulations,” Will grins, “but I have to say, kinda disappointed I wasn’t invited to the wedding.” 

“Dumbass,” you smile at him and he chuckles silently, “c’mon, the apartment is just down this street.” 

You see dim lights on in the building as you approach. “We’ll check at Benny and Pope’s place first, they might all be there,” you say as you let the two of you into the brownstone. Will only nods and you wonder what kind of emotions are running through his head, only minutes away from seeing his baby brother for the first time in almost six years. 

You give a low knock on the front door and by the speed it’s opened, you know they weren’t sleeping. Pope yanks the door open, he must’ve looked through the peephole because he grabs you and hugs you before you even have time to react, he doesn’t even notice Will standing slightly to the side behind you. 

“Pope,” you protest weakly, “I’ve brought someone, get Benny.” You feel Pope’s arms fall from you and as you look up you catch the look on his face as he spots Will. 

“Dios mío…” he breathes and Will grins as Pope looks as if he’s seen a ghost. 

“Who is it?” you hear Benny call from inside and you quickly grab Will and pull him inside the door, forcing Pope to back up so that you can close the door. This is going to get noisy.

“Benny!” Pope shouts, stepping forward and grabbing Will into a hug, “you’re never fucking gonna believe who it is!” 

“Who?” Benny calls back from the kitchen, he sounds tired and annoyed as he steps out, Frankie behind him, looking even worse than Benny sounds. 

It takes Benny several seconds to register who he’s looking at, the two men staring at each other across the room until Will moves, stepping away from Pope and grabbing Benny. 

“Come here, baby bro,” he chokes as Benny throws his arms around him, a strangled growl coming from his throat. 

“How?” Benny splutters, his face buried in his brother’s shoulder, “How and how the fuck!?” He pulls away, grabbing Will’s face between his hands, “Where the fuck have you been?!”

“I could ask the same of you,” Will chuckles, his voice thick with emotions as he seems to just take in the sight of Benny’s face. “It’s good to see you again, baby bro, I didn’t think I would.” 

“I never gave up on you,” Benny says, grabbing Will into a hug again, “I never fucking gave up on you.” 

You put your arms out to Frankie as you see him and he’s on you with a few long steps, pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in an instant. 

“We’ve been looking for you all over the city,” he mumbles, pulling back a little to run his thumb gently over the cut on your cheek. 

“I know, and we have a lot of catching up to do,” you reply as his hands tugs you closer to him, his nose bumping against yours. 

“Fish, give me a hug, I got your wife back for you,” Will says, letting go of Benny and enveloping both you and Frankie in a hug, Frankie grabs his shoulder and they bump their foreheads together. 

“I owe you everything, brother,” Frankie says, locking eyes with Will, “It’s so fucking good to see you, you’ve got to tell us everything.” 

It’s a long story and Will tells it as Pope makes coffee and Frankie cleans your cuts. 

“From the beginning?” Will asks, and Benny nods. 

“Yeah, from the beginning, outbreak day, what happened to you? I went to your office, it went up in flames.” 

“When it all started going crazy, my phone died, I couldn’t get hold of any of you and I was thinking I’d just stay put in the office until it calmed down,” Will sinks down on the couch next to Benny, "But then the coffee shop, the one on the first floor, caught fire and we all got told to leave. It was chaos on the street outside and I tried getting behind the building to stay out of sight. But then I saw Emma, you know the barista you always used to flirt with Ben?” Ben nods and Will continues, “I saw her through the window, she got trapped by the fire, behind the counter so I had to get her out, got the back door open and managed to pull her out. But I think something collapsed, I don’t remember too well. All I know it hurt like a bitch and then I woke up in a triage tent somewhere, I got pretty badly burnt.” Will pulls up the sleeve of his t-shirt and shows the painful looking scarring on his shoulder. 

“Fuck, that looks gnarly,” Ben says, leaning forward and running his fingers over his brother’s skin

“It goes down my back too, took fucking forever to heal.” Will lets his shirt drop back down, “They were gonna leave me in the local medical camp but I got lucky, you guys remember Colonel Middleton?” He looks over at Frankie and Pope who both nod. 

“Yeah, from that fuck up in Yemen,” Pope says, “worst fucking officer I’ve ever met.” 

“Well, he came through for me, he got me on a chopper to D.C, they had a burn unit still up and running there, military only. I was out of it for the most part but they patched me up. By the time I was able to stand up without the skin on my back falling off, it had all gone to shit. QZ:s going up everywhere, all the major cities bombed, including Arlington and D.C.” 

He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, looking at Pope, Frankie and you, “I tried finding you guys, but I couldn’t get back to Arlington and then Middleton offered to get me to NYC, help rebuild. I…” Will’s head drops down, “I needed a distraction, a purpose, to keep going…” He turns his head and looks back at Benny who’s grabbed his arm, “I’m sorry, Benny, I should’ve looked harder for you, and for Hannah.” 

At the mention of Hannah’s name, Benny shrinks, the big man visibly sinking lower in his seat as his eyes go dark, it makes your heart ache and you feel Frankie take your hand, squeezing it tight. 

“I know she didn’t make it, Benny,” Will says, “it’s ok, I knew it was a long shot to hope that she was still alive. I just wanna know how she died.” 

Benny’s jaw goes tight and you feel tears pressing up hot in your eyes, Pope’s exhaling slowly behind you and the silence seems to stretch indefinitely. 

“Things in Arlington got bad,” you hear Frankie say, he’s looking at Benny who can’t seem to take his eyes off his shoes, “There was this guy, head of FEDRA there, who got power hungry. He had men around him who kept him in power thanks to the favors they got from him.Things started rumbling and Hannah got caught up in it, defending a kid.” Frankie stops and shakes his head, he’s struggling and he looks at you for help but Benny speaks up. 

“She got taken to FEDRA lock up, Will,” Benny’s eyes are back on his brother, “and they killed her,” a sob racks his chest, a sharp inhale and Will’s arm goes around him, you can see his knuckles white from the grip on Benny’s shoulder. 

“But we got them, we killed the ones who did it, Will, and I, we all, put her to rest, she wasn’t alone and I said goodbye for you too, I said goodbye for us both. I made sure she knew.”

Benny’s shoulders shake and you know he sees in his mind the same as you, Hannah’s body, just before Frankie and Pope wrapped her, bent over her face, whispering into her ear, before carrying her to the fire.

Frankie’s arm pulls you into his chest as the sobs overtake you, Santi pulling you both in closer as Will seems to have a battle raging inside him. 

“You got them?” he asks quietly.  

“Yeah, we got them all,” Pope says, his voice rough. 

“Ok.” 

Will’s head remains low between his shoulders for several long minutes, Benny inhales deeply and Will looks over at him. 

“I know you took care of her, Benny, I’m grateful it was you.” He sighs and drags both hands over his face, rough stubble scraping against his palms, “I need air, I need to process, I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“I’m coming’ with you,” Benny says, standing up at the same time as his brother, and Will nods, his jaw still tight. 

“I’ll see you guys in the morning, alright?” he nods to the three of you, still on the couch. 

After Will and Benny have left, you slump back against Frankie, you feel drained. It’s early morning, and the stress of the day is finally catching up with you. Frankie senses your fatigue and gently pushes you up off the couch.

“C’mon, hermosa, time to sleep,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you steady against him. 

“Sleep well, Santi,” you say and he nods, he looks drained too. 

“Sleep well, hermana, let Frankie spoil you, ok?” 

“I always do,” Frankie replies and leads you out the door. 

Back in your own apartment you pull your clothes off and collapse on the bed, not even bothering to wash off. Frankie falls into bed next to you, tugging you tight against his chest, his arm as your pillow. 

“You scared me,” he whispers, lips pressed against your forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble back, “I knew you were looking for me though,” your nose buried in his sparse chest hair, tickling you as you speak. He’s tugging the covers up over you both and you tangle your legs with his. 

“I’d never stop looking, cariño, you know that, right?” He’s got his arms properly wrapped around you now, his nose skimming over your cheek in the darkness, you can feel his lips brush over yours as you turn your face up towards him. 

“I know, I’d never stop looking for you either, Frankie,” you whisper, finding his soft mouth and sinking into his kiss. It’s slow, warm and calm, letting you close your eyes and relax against him, his warm breath against your cheek as he pulls away and lets you fall asleep.  

Chapter 27

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics

#the pilot and his girl #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #frankie morales fluff #the last of us fanfiction #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales angst

[strangermarvelss]

the pain of letting you go- e.m (pt 10)

Pairing: Ex!Eddie Munson x Ex!AFAB!Reader

Summary: eddie has a solo therapy session and a sit down talk with wayne about everything that’s been going on

Warnings: angst, eddie pov, mentions of past trauma and abuse (please don’t read if the topic is sensitive for you), crying, eddie having a breakthrough, wayne being the g.o.a.t and talking some sense into his nephew, cliffhanger ending

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: part ten of the series is here! can’t believe it’s almost done, it feels unreal. thank you to everyone for the continued support! reminder: if the topic is sensitive for you, please do not read. also, my two years of taking psychology in high school really came to play in this chapter, so if it doesn't make all kinds of sense, be gentle with my fuzzy brain recollection ! one last thing: eddie's backstory might sound a lot like billy's but that's just how i think it would be in this series! enjoy! :) -sava

series masterlist

“Do you want to start by telling me what brings you here today?” The lady in front of him asks, her notepad open and a pen situated between her index finger and thumb. Eddie shifts, readjusting his sitting position on the stiff couch in the spacious office as he looks back at the therapist in front of him.

He did exactly what he said he would. He got home that day that Christopher got in the fight and dialed Jonathan Byers’s home number, asking for the name and number of the therapist he and Will used to see back in Hawkins when their parents were getting their divorce. He thanked the man and hung up, quickly dialing the number Jonathan provided and made the first available appoint for the Monday after Thanksgiving, thanks to a recent cancellation. 

Everything he said that day was true, he wanted to make it up to you and he would put the work in for that to happen. He spent the holiday alone, except for the breakfast he had with Wayne before he went back to bed to prepare for his shift at the plant that night. He mentioned wanting to talk with the boy, concerned about his lack of Thanksgiving plans. Eddie hadn’t really kept Wayne in the loop with everything that has happened between you and him, not wanting his uncle to look at him differently for acting so stupid. He was already beating himself up over the situation, he didn’t need more people he loved to turn against him.

“I’ve been an idiot lately,” he tells her simply, crossing his arms in front of him, putting a barrier between his heart and the unfamiliar woman. She smiles a little, looking at her notes before turning back to him.

“Happens to the best of us sometimes. Care to elaborate?” She questions, raising a brow. Eddie lets out a sigh, before opening his mouth to speak once more.

“I asked my wife for a separation, for a really stupid reason, and now that we’re not together anymore, I-I feel nothing but regret and I just want her back,” he explains.

She takes a moment to write in her notebook, before turning back to Eddie. She examines him for a moment, looking him over and Eddie squirms under her intense stare. Therapy was new territory for him. He often wondered how much better his life could’ve been if he attended regularly as a kid, but with money being tight and his asshole father not seeing the point, it was never a solid option. He probably could’ve saved himself a lot of heartache and trouble if he had a healthy outlet to express himself like this, really talking about his problems instead of blasting music and getting high to forget all the troubles the universe threw his way.

“This ‘stupid’ reason you said…what exactly was it? What led you to want to separate from your wife?” She inquires. Another sigh leaves Eddie’s lips as he braces for judgement.

“I-I’m in a band, called Corroded Coffin. I have this bandmate, his name’s Gareth. He made some silly joke about my rockstar image being ‘tainted’ because I’m married to the only girl I’ve ever dated and been with sexually, and already have a kid. Like I said, it’s really stupid, but, I guess I just…let it get to me.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“Why do you keep asking why?” Eddie snaps a little, already getting a little irritated. “I thought you were supposed to tell me all that. Tell me what’s wrong with me so I can go and make shit better.”

“We have to work through it to get to the root of the problem, first. Together,” she answers him, sending him a sweet smile. He huffs, pressing himself further into the uncomfortable couch. “Now, is what your friend Gareth said true? That you’ve only been with one girl your whole life?”

“Yeah, it is. No one ever looked at me that way before Y/N and I started dating, and it just felt right. Then she got pregnant, and we got married after she graduated,” Eddie explains a bit. 

“Did you feel like you married Y/N out of obligation? Because you got her pregnant?”

He takes a moment to think. To reflect on the entire 8 years you spent together in a romantic relationship, and the years before that you spent as friends. He always loved spending time with you, whether you were friends or more than that. He remembers the time he realized he had feelings for you:

The summer of 1982 was hotter than you both wanted it be, even at night. You and Eddie were hanging out in his trailer, listening to his Black Sabbath album ‘Mob Rules’, blasting it with the windows wide open for the whole trailer park to hear. You both were on your third beer of the night, not wanting to celebrate the Fourth of July at the annual fair Hawkins threw every year thanks to Mayor Kline, but instead just having a relaxing night in the trailer, which is why it was okay for you both to blast the music after quiet hours began.

You were both laughing at some silly joke you said about his neighbor’s cat, the alcohol evident in your system and the fuzziness swirling around in both of your brains making any and every thing sound like the best joke in the world. He noticed how sweet your laughter was, and the way your nose crinkled when you giggled at his jokes, your lips curling into the brightest smile he’s ever seen and how you tilt your head back when you found something particularly funny. 

The butterflies were beginning to swirl in his stomach when you flopped on the bed next to him, laughing so hard he thought you’d pee all over his bed and stain it further, since you’d already gone several times that night thanks to the alcohol in your system. He thought he could just laugh at hearing your laugh for the rest of his life, seeing the bright twinkle in your eye when he turned towards you and heat spreading to his cheeks thanks to the staring. 

The laughter died down, the two of you looking at each other with soft eyes and reaching for each other. He grabbed your arm, running his ring clad hand up and down your soft skin, and you went to brush his growing mane out of his face. He felt his heart beating so fast in his chest, thinking it might pop out of him and explode all over your pretty outfit, which was a low cut tank top and high waisted shorts due to the heat, not that Eddie was complaining. 

It felt sudden when you pressed your lips to his, but he didn’t care all that much as he quickly melted into your touch, bringing the hand that was once rubbing up and down your arm to cup your face gently. The two of you had been friends for a while, but it wasn’t weird to be kissing in that moment. The heat that was created between the two of you as your lips moved against each other felt so nice and comforting. Like it was bound to happen any day. Like Eddie always said: It just felt right.

“No, I didn’t feel like I needed to marry her out of obligation. Her parents maybe think that, since they kept hinting towards it throughout the pregnancy, but I didn’t feel pressured by them or her. I did it because I wanted to,” he finally answers the woman before him. She nods at his answer and quickly scribbles something in her notebook again.

“And why did you want to? Think back at how you felt around that time in your life. What made you decide you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her in the first place?” 

“Being with her made me feel truly happy for the first time in my life. I had a shit childhood and everyone bullied me up until I graduated at my third attempt at a senior year, but whenever we were together, even before we were dating, it felt like I didn’t have to worry about ever being unhappy. I just felt-I felt like maybe life didn’t have to suck as much as I used to think it did.”

“Good, that’s good. I think we’re starting to get somewhere. Can you talk to me more about your childhood?” The therapist asks, readjusting her position in the chair in front of him, crossing a leg above her knee and readjusting her notepad. Eddie’s breath hitches for a moment, swallowing it down quickly after. He never reveled in the details about his childhood too often. The last time he had to was some comment Christopher made about a family tree he had to make for school, and he had asked about where his mother and father were and why he only had one set of grandparents he went to visit during the holidays. It wasn’t a lengthy conversation between him and his son, not like it was when he told you all those years ago. He wanted to save that story for when Chris was significantly older. Please, it all still felt very fresh, as if it was happening yesterday.

“Um, yeah…yeah I can. My mom, she was the sweetest woman. Always did her best to care for me a provide some kind of normal childhood with what little we had. But my dad…he was a total prick. An angry drunk who used to beat us every time we breathed wrong. He and my mom would fight a lot, arguing about money and other pointless shit in the end. But it always ended in him ‘winning’, getting a few too many smacks in and taking it out on me when I would try to defend her,” Eddie begins, his hands clasped in front of him as he leans forward on his knees, one leg bouncing uncontrollably as he speaks.

“One day, thinks got a little too heated between the two of them because he lost his job at the body shop he worked at, being drunk on the clock and all. They got into a screaming match, apparently, because money was becoming tighter and tighter, and when he lost his job, my mom was the only one with a stable income coming in. He…he hit her. No, not hit. He punched her. He was going at her and just hurting her worse than he ever had. She ended up in the hospital, broken ribs and eye swollen shut, but panicking about how much it would cost her instead of worrying about her injuries. But she figured it out and once she was better, she left Hawkins. S-she promised she’d come back and get me, and we’d go live in a city together where we didn’t have to deal with that asshole, but after two months of getting the brunt of all his anger about it, I lost hope. Then six months after she left, my dad got locked up and I was put in my Uncle Wayne’s care.”

She nods at his words, taking in all the information spilled at her in such a short amount of time as she writes faster than Eddie thought anyone could. Eddie’s chest feels tight as his mind brings him back to his past. The pain from his father’s fists and the smacking sound he’d create against his chubby pre-teen face still fresh and the exact reason he was so worried when Christopher got into a fight at school. Sure, Eddie knew how to defend himself against bullies when the time called for it, but he tried to not get physical when he felt the need to get violent. The fight with his son, plus the smack you landed on his face when he was being a jealous dickhead about Steve, took him back to the small house he lived in on the outskirts of Hawkins with his father’s harsh words ringing in his ears and horrible actions making his skin sting.

“Do you ever find yourself running away from conflict, Eddie?” The therapist asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Um…yeah, I guess sometimes I do. But Y/N and I didn’t have any conflict when I asked for the separation, it was because of what Gareth said,” he replies. She hums to herself, raising her eyebrows a bit a shaking her head.

“But what if it was something deeper than that?” She ponders.

“What do you mean?”

She closes the notebook momentarily, setting it on the side table closest to her chair and clasping her hands in front of her. “What if you had a deeper reasoning, something that didn’t click into place until your friend said the joke. Eddie, with all the stuff you just told me, it sounds like the abandonment your mother caused you to feel could have something to do with this, as well as a bit of self sabotage.”

The abandonment was spot on, with the grudge he still held for his mother for leaving him in the hands of an abusive piece-of-shit still very present. But self sabotage? What on earth could he have been sabotaging? And for what reason?

“I’m going to need you to elaborate further, doc,” he pleads.

“Well, you said you never felt truly happy until you were with Y/N. Things were going good between you, so there could’ve been a small part of you just waiting for things to get bad again. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. So instead of you going through any sort of pain on the receiving end, you initiated the bad stuff before it could happen to you. And running away similar to how your mother did, but not exactly the same,” she explains to him. 

Eddie feels as if a lightbulb went off over his head as he listens to what she says. It all makes sense, because there was always a small part of him that told him he never deserved anything good in his life, words his father would spew at him continuing to stay with him many years later. He finally felt happy and let his head overthink that, not truly being able to soak up the feeling and throwing away the best thing he’s ever witnessed in his life. The words the therapist said, mixed with the insecurity of his lack of experience, all made Eddie feel semi-better about knowing what exactly led him to acting so stupid.

As happy as he was to get to the root of the problem, he felt like even more of an idiot for doing so and putting you through the shit that was going on with him. What if he managed to get this kind of help earlier, before acting on Gareth’s words and being a mini manwhore? What if he just talked about how he was feeling instead of keeping it to himself and letting you suffer in the process?

“That actually makes a lot of sense doc…thank you,” he breathes out.

“That’s why I’m here. I think we’ve made some great progress for today, and I’d like to try and see you once more before your family session coming up in a couple of weeks. Talk to the receptionist out front and see where they can squeeze you in,” the therapist says, standing from her chair and extending her hand to him. He shakes it as he stands himself, digging his hands in his pocket before walking out of the room and out into the lobby where the front desk is located.

—————————————————————————————————————————

Staring at Wayne’s truck in the driveway, Eddie takes a deep breath before turning the engine to his van off. Exiting the vehicle, he takes the few steps until he reaches the porch, climbing the stairs and walking in the front door. Wayne’s figure is relaxing in his recliner, feet extended as he watches a show on the tiny television. He meets his nephews eyes, Eddie giving him a shy wave before setting his keys on the kitchen counter.

“Hey boy,” Wayne greets him, pushing the recliner back into the regular sitting position and standing. He walks over towards the kitchen, his arms extending and wrapping around his nephew quickly. “How’ve you been boy?”

Eddie shakes his head, laughing a little as he looks to the floor. “Not good Uncle Wayne. Pretty far from being okay, if I'm being honest”

“C’mere son, lets sit down and talk,” he gestures towards the kitchen table, the two chairs already situated a bit for people to just slide it, the two men having a habit of not pushing them in. Eddie sits down, wringing his hands together as he rests the against the table. Wayne slides in, taking a sip of his drink as he looks at his nephew. “Tell me what’s been going on with you and Y/N.”

Eddie’s eyes shoot up to meet Wayne's, panic in his face hearing his uncle say the words. Wayne hated gossip, so there was no way someone else managed to tell him the situation before he did, right?l

“How did you-“

“Now you know as well as I do how fast word travels in this damn town. I may not like to gossip, but my ears do perk up when they’re talking about my nephew. I would’ve liked to hear it from you though, so talk to me son,” he explains, cutting the younger man off. 

“M’sorry Wayne, I just didn’t want you to be mad at me and be disappointed in me. I've already put you through enough shit...I-I just didn't want to add onto that,” Eddie admits, hanging his head low in shame, staring at the wooden table and tracing the cravings he did years ago with his fingertips.

“Eddie I could never be disappointed in you, and I mean that.”

“Thanks Wayne, I appreciate that,” he pauses, continuing to trace the carvings. “I really screwed things up with Y/N. I got in my head and let her go…and now I feel horrible. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done, and you know me, it says a lot.”

“Yeah son, I do know you. And you’re right, that is the worst thing you’ve ever done,” Wayne tells him. Eddie’s eyes widen, staring at his uncle crazily, a breathy laugh leaving his lips. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I’ve seen how that girl has changed your life for the better, and leaving her like that was just cruel. She and that boy of yours love you so much, but I can’t for the life of me understand why you did it, because I know how crazy you are about her. So what the hell?”

Eddie frowns, hearing the disappointment in his uncle’s voice. He knew how stupid it was letting the one person other than Wayne who has ever treated him with any kind of love that he deserved go like he did, trading the simple family life for the rockstar life he’s always dreamed of. But now that he had that rockstar life, he hated what he gave up in order to have it. Losing you and your son wasn’t worth all the potential record deals and never having to worry about money again. 

“I know Wayne…I know I messed up. But I’m trying to do better-I am going to do better. I just came back from a therapy session, and we’re going to go as a family so I can see just how much this has effected them and see what I can do to be good to them. I want to be back in their lives and come home to my family every night and tuck my son in without him hating me. I want to lay in bed with my wife at night and hear all about her day and hold her in my arms as we fall asleep, then wake up and do it all over again. I never thought that’d be something I could want, much less have, but now that it’s almost out of my grasp?” Eddie stops, feeling the tears fall down his pale cheeks as he tries his best to compose himself in front of his uncle, turning away and rubbing his eyes with his thumb.

He keeps the sobs to himself, not wanting to look more pathetic than he already felt. He knew it was stupid to cry over his own mistakes, but it just showed how much he cared for you and Christopher. He loves you both so much, and despite everything, he wants nothing but happiness for the both of you, whether that includes him in your lives or not. 

Wayne stands from his chair, walking over and taking Eddie’s figure in his own, wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulder and holding Eddie’s head close to his figure with his free hand. Eddie immediately hugs him back, his face burying into one of Wayne’s legs as he turns his head to the side, looking out at the living room before closing his eyes once more, fresh tears spilling over the edge.

“I don’t want to lose them, Wayne. I can’t,” Eddie mumbles out. Wayne nods, patting his nephew’s head as he tries to soothe him. 

“I know boy, I know. But you have to keep putting in the work. I know you love them, and they still love you, I can see it when I see Y/N around town sometimes with the way she still manages to flash me a smile. So go and be a better man for them, the husband and father they need you to be and get your head out of your ass,” Wayne says.

Eddie smiles a little, pulling away from his uncle and rubbing his tears on his sleeve. He was going to do whatever you needed him to in order to be on good terms again. He knew things wouldn’t magically heal over night and that he’d be welcomed back to his home with open arms next time you saw both of them, so he would wait as long as he needs for you to be ready and let him back into your life. 

That is, if you still really wanted him there.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #uncle wayne #wayne munson #the pain of letting you go #strangermarvelss

[pb-dot]

WIP Wednesday: Meet my new protagonist

So, in these days leading up to November I've spent some time trying to capture my vague and ephemeral plans for the unnamed horror project I really should settle on a title for one of these days. I still have a ways to go, but I figured it was time to talk a little bit about the poor sap who's going to go through my made-to-order horrors. Well, I say poor sap, but the fact of the matter is that our hero is a bit of a bastard in some respects.

Oscar H. Skerry would never dare to call himself an expert on art, but he will also be dead in the ground before he concedes that anyone on god's green earth knows more about art he likes than he does. From his home in San Franscisco, he has made a modest but sustained success as an art critic, paying the bills by a series of freelance consultant gigs, mostly for "particularly daft multi-millionaires looking to get some art into their portfolios," to quote the man himself.

While he may make a living advising people he has nothing but contempt for make what could be argued to be wise investment decisions, it is far from Oscar's passion. You're unlikely to hear him talk about his true passion unless he deems you to be of considerable intellect or in a position to further his goals, though. It's not a secret, exactly, but Oscar considers it "need-to-know information."

In short, Oscar is captivated by the work of one Tomasz Gildebrant, a reclusive artist who made his name with his unique visual style, other art critics than Oscar has called it "pleasantly unpleasant" or "containing angles and strokes evocative of the nightmare," and an unflinching dedication to his reclusivity that has him placed in the category of "outsider art" because nobody can figure out enough about him to put him anywhere else. Oscar believes himself to be the one to write the definitive, defining work on Gildebrant and form a thesis that'll open the art world's eyes fully to his beloved artist. So far it's not going very well, and Oscar is struggling to even explain why he likes the paintings.

Leaving the topic of Oscar's fascination for more biographical details. Oscar Henry Skerry was born to Linda and Harold Skerry in Rochester, MN on September 12th 1989. Oscar, named after his great-grandfather, had a childhood that was considered normal at the time, but that in retrospect probably contained more bullying than what's healthy. This bullying came to a peak in Oscar's early teens, around the time Oscar realized he was queer. Unfortunately for Oscar's tormentors, he also realized he wasn't going to take it on the chin anymore. Oscar grew into somewhat of a problem child as his many fights and waning interest in academia saw his grades decline.

Art became somewhat of a salvation for young mr. Skerry, as his sympathetic if not somewhat willfully ignorant parents, encouraged him to explore his artistic side as a possible outlet for what they percieved to be baseless aggression. Although Oscar did take to the creation of art, he seemed to rapidly change his mind through high school and towards college. Oscar is tight-lipped on this part of his life, but may be plied to confess that this was the time he saw his first Gildebrant painting, and have since been striving to understand the experience and the feelings this awoke in him.

So that's Oscar in a nutshell. He's not as fleshed out as I want him to be when all of this is done, but then again I'm planning to pants a lot of the finer detail since that worked pretty well with Clockwork Boy. Expect many ask prompts and tag your OC posts about this boy, the target of his obsession, and Mara, his bitchy-but-wise frenemy with benefits.

#writing #hitherto untitled horror project #Oscar H Skerry #my god I need a title for this goddamn WIP

[frogs-in3-hills]

Day 2 of the @domaystic prompt challenge: "A stash of…"

Hunter x Hunter | Gen | SFW | 1,362 words

Relationship: Killua & Gon

POV Gon Freecss

Summary: "…Chocolate. Killua has procured a very extensive snack collection."

Gon isn’t sure he’ll ever completely understand just how, exactly, Killua had apparently once managed to spend a full ten million dollars on only a year or two’s worth of snacks.

Even without the influence of Aunt Mito’s watchful eyes, Gon’s diet has remained fairly healthy during the course of their adventure. And Leorio could really only take, like, twenty percent responsibility for that. The only times he ever really indulged was when Killua was trying a particularly interesting new snack—which, to be fair, was pretty often—but the point still remains that he literally can’t wrap his head around how it’s even possible to spend that much money so quickly.

Killua once sat him down and tried to explain the logistics of it, recreating the specific budget plan and everything in his tight, messy scrawl. Something about inflation, scarcity bias, monopolies, and commodity investments. As soon as numbers started getting involved, though, Gon feared the whole thing might make his brain explode. It made him feel pretty bad, honestly. He was genuinely curious, and Killua was trying really hard to be patient and explain it all, dumbing his words down progressively further until his words sounded like some kind of jumble between caveman-speak and yet-undefined-technical jargon.

Well, it’s probably best that Gon sticks to more targeted problem-solving, anyways. The Greed Island stuff had made a lot more sense to him because they had such a specific goal in mind. He’s happy to let Killua take the reigns with the bigger-picture economic stuff; it’s just another cool product of his training, and Gon doesn’t see the point in trying to outclass his expertise like that.

Gon learns best through example, anyway. And in this case, he hopes he never gets an example to learn from.

~~~

They’re staying at a quaint little inn for the moment, one with a cute modern exterior and a surprisingly roomy two-bed. It’s erected right next to a candy shop, which is pretty exciting, too. Gon and Killua had a wonderful time pressing their faces against the glass display cases, admiring the eclectic assemblage of all sorts of treats from around the world. Gon had elected to purchase a pack of vanilla bean candies and one of those cool lollipops with a scorpion inside, but strangely enough, Killua hadn’t wanted anything. Maybe he was feeling naseous after Gon had spent a solid ten minutes trying to convince him to try a lick of his lollipop, employing the tried-and-true sales pitch of waving it around a mere two inches away from his face.

That was a few hours ago, now.

Gon wipes some sweat from his brow as he steps into their inn room without knocking, having just grown bored of chasing butterflies down the street (he’s never seen this species before!) He can see Killua slouched on the table next to the radio, possibly asleep. But Gon knows better than to expect that he’ll continue sleeping for long now that there’s another person in the room. He doesn’t take it personally, really, since he knows Killua has to be cautious like that. It’s just the way he is.

He’s a little hungry, so he heads into the kitchenette. It’s a tiny thing, furnished with only a minifridge and a hot plate on the counter, plugged into a slightly dangerous-looking exposed outlet. They should still have some leftovers stuffed into a styrofoam take-out container somewhere in there, some kind of noodle dish with tofu and bean sprouts. Gon isn’t sure what it’s called, but they had something similar back at home, and he remembers that it was always delicious cold.

The fridge hums loudly, almost like a sigh. Gon begins to open the door, and four things happen in very quick succession.

The little light inside flickers on with an annoyed, electric grumble, just as his hand overpowers the suction-like force holding the door closed.

Three boxes of mint chocolate cookies tumble out with three sequential thwacks, each one landing neatly atop the other on the floor.

Gon can hear and feel something falling against the inside of the door, so he rushes to slip his hand through the side and extracts two more boxes.

Now reasonably sure nothing horrible will happen, he opens the fridge door the rest of the way.

The inside is packed with a smorgasbord of all sorts of treats: at least ten more boxes of mint chocolate cookies, a section of packaged mooncakes and mochis stuffed so tightly together it kind of looks like a giant fungal growth, barricaded by an interlocked gummy bear fencing. There’s a layer of half-melted blackcurrant popsicles behatting a small tower of tupperwares jam-packed with assorted chocolate truffles. It’s all kind of formed a little ecosystem of precarious balance—almost grotesque, in a way, seeing the sheer amount of stuff that’s been tetrised into the tiny space, all organized like a little cityscape.

Gon blinks at the patchwork of commercial color, blinks again.

Closes it.

“Killua?” He calls.

“Mm?” Killua replies, having evidently just woken up. His voice is still sleepy and thick in a way it normally isn’t, and it’s kind of cute, in that kittycat way, like an I know exactly what I did wrong but you can’t be mad at me because I’m so cute kinda cute.

“What’s with the fridge?”

A silence follows before Killua says, “You think it’s too much…?”

It’s a dangerous tone. Not in the way that means Killua’s mad, but more in the way that means Killua’s embarrassed. Gon knows this means that there’s a correct and an incorrect answer, and he better not get it wrong.

“No,” he says slowly.

“M’kay,” Killua says. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

And, okay, it’s not a lie—sure, it seems a little excessive, but Gon knows Killua is just kind of like that sometimes, and he doesn’t actually mind. It’s not like they’re really struggling for money, and if they run out, there’s nothing stopping them from just returning to the Heavens Arena (Leorio had definitely been right to become a Hunter so he could make more money).

Killua also sometimes gets weirdly defensive about it, in that way where Gon knows it’s really about something else that he doesn’t want to talk about. So, since it’s not a problem, and since Killua doesn’t want to talk about it, Gon is fine with just letting it happen without too much pushback.

He heads to the small pantry instead, mildly hopeful that he won’t find it in similar shape.

Gon opens the pantry door.

…

Gon closes the pantry door.

Well, wait a minute—he opens it back up against his better judgment—there’s something interesting in here. Standing on the tips of his toes, he reaches into the depths of the pantry, sinking down to the elbow through bags of pickle-flavored chips, fizzy rock candy, and an assortment of Popin’Cookin’s, and dislodges a package from the back. The dim kitchen light reveals its contents: seaweed snacks, apparently. The package is illustrated with a few pieces of nori, glazed with almond slices and sesame seeds. Curious, Gon tears it open and pops one into his mouth.

“Hey, Killua?” he calls again, his mouth still half-full.

“What’s up?”

Gon pads into the little living room where Killua is still sitting, head cradled in his arms with that sleepy-alert look (he really is like a cat sometimes, isn’t he?).

“Let’s get some more of this seaweed stuff later! It’s really good.”

He blinks, then straightens up a little. “…Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gon confirms. “It’ll be fun! You always shop for this kind of stuff on your own.”

The expression that Killua makes next is, in Gon’s opinion, pretty rewarding. Really, being friends with Killua on its own is very rewarding, but Gon especially loves being able to notice how he’s really feeling in moments like this: gratitude, in a quiet sort of way. His face doesn’t change, but he definitely stares a little too long, taking his time to wrap his head around it.

“Okay,” he says finally. “Let’s go tomorrow.”

Even if he can be a little disarming at times, Gon seriously loves being friends with Killua.

#domaystic2023 #hxh #hunter x hunter #killugon #hxh fanfic #gon freecss #killua zoldyck #silly sully writing

[launching-a-thousand-ships]

Kurt Glee Rewatch: Home

Burt and Carol are such a wholesome couple. Prob the healthiest on the show lol.

These two are iconic. I also love how Kurt adds the armband bc even in a uniform, he needs to personalize it somehow.

He’s so supportive of Mercedes here... sadly not as much rest of the ep.

But also his expression at being told he has hips like a pear... awe. He’s so tiny though.

Cowboy wallpaper... *Kurt shudders*

Also, seems like ages since the Finn crush was a plot. And wow, Kurt going strong. 

Can I just say how happy I am they’ve started styling his hair? The bangs were cute, but like. This looks much better.

And yikes, Kurt... Mercedes is doing the right thing here, she’s having a very healthy lunch! And Kurt took the criticism so seriously like omg can he please eat real food. I get that he’s happy to not be bullied for once but like. Babe pls.

All Kurtcedes fights are in the cafeteria, apparently.

“Act as translator” Kurt, I thought you were doing well in your classes.

I love how protective he is of Burt. He really stepped into the caretaker role and even when their relationship was more strained, they both love each other and protect each other and I love it.

“Fate brought them together” gee Kurt, when did you change your name. I find it hilarious that this was all his scheme but it resulted in Burt and Carol being so besotted with each other. Who knew they could bond beyond just having dead spouses?

I am curious wtf Kurt’s plan was here. Like, did he think he’d get to spend more time with Finn but then Burt and Carol would break up? Was he hoping they’d get married?? This is such dumb teen boy logic. And I’m really not having the whole ‘predatory gay’ stereotype bc we don’t need to see that

He is very intense here. Like Kurt. Finn is clearly not comfortable here. and omg when he refers to Burt and Carol as ‘Mom and Dad’ like sweetie. No.

Again, Kurt is way too much here but omg the way he looks at Finn and then Puck mouths ‘Are you gay’ and I can’t stop laughing. 

But I do like how he sings the song, much smoother than Defying Gravity. ANd Mercedes is smiling at him and Brittana cuddle bc they like the song too, v sweet.

Not my fav Kurt song? But it’s nice. And I do like Kurt’s singing better than Finn’s. I find in general Finn does well at the upbeat/rock songs, but not a fan of the more ballad style.

Kurt’s crying at the end, he’s legit so in love. It’s also probably hard that he has just... no one to really talk to about it? We never see him discuss it with anyone. His dad is not ready for that kind of talk. And with the girls him being gay is fun for them bc he can talk about fashion etc, but lowkey him being gay is rarely about him liking boys? I mean, everyone knew bc of his clothes etc, he has never shown interest in an actual boy before. Him having feelings might break the illusion of the girls seeing him more as an accessory. 

I do wish he could talk about it with Mercedes though. She’d be a good voice of reason, and him having some sort of outlet could be helpful so he might be less intense around Finn.

I do appreciate that as soon as Finn is a threat to his dad, crush is on the backburner bc *Danger Danger Danger*

And you know it’s not intended as an insult, but how Burt brushes Kurt off and is so excited to talk sports. And you can see it on Carol’s face, that she spots it too and has sympathy for Kurt, while also happy for finn to have a fatherly presence. Ugh, this whole family dynamic, all 4 of them, best writing in the show.

Every Kurt and Burt scene is just a masterpiece. Kurt being passive aggressive, but Burt will call him out, try to talk it out.

And I love how you can see here that Burt is still in his beginning phases. ugh when he says “guy talk” and Kurt is just “I’m a guy” my heartt. Bc he is a guy but he’s a different type of guy and bc of that everyone treats him differently and just.

Burt is trying so hard, but he still makes these mistakes. And even though he accepts his son, he still has that ‘let’s just each do our own thing’ mentality.

But I am glad he does call Kurt out, asks why he fixed him out with Carol. Bc Kurt was being selfish about it, setting them up to get close to Finn, and now backtracking bc he feels like he’s losing his dad.

Bc his dad always comes first and just. Kurt s1 is so flawed bc he’s such an angsty/dumb teen and it makes him such a real character and fascinating to watch. Plus, his heart stays int he right place

Crush aside, s1 had some of the best Finn and Kurt interactions. I love how Finn knew right away that Kurt was hurt by Finn bonding with Burt. And Kurt isn’t even offended here by Finn not wanting to live with him bc right now his dad is his priority.

I’m so glad the whole ‘let’s break up our parents’ didn’t turn into a drawn out scheme. They quickly see how happy their parents are and accept that they’re together.

Bc different eps focus on different characters, I like how a lot of plots are wrapped up within the ep. The show has character arcs etc throughout, but I find I’m not a fan of certain plotlines going on for way too long. Like the fake baby, or Puck being the father, ugh or the student election. Those all had me like ‘just get on with it’ whereas character arcs, like kurt and his dad, the mercedes/troubletones, etc are much more interesting.

Aww I love them. And Kurt immediately says “I was wrong” and owns up to his mistake, yay.

So glad Mercedes got another song, but oof I want more of both of them performing with the cheerios! Only a few eps left of them on the team... And!! Apparently they cut a song from the ep?? Kurtcedes and the Cheerios were supposed to do Fergalicious (there are some pics of behind the scenes) and the fact that we missed out on that actively angers me.

K but first off, they’re at Finn’s house? Why was Kurt there? Was he visiting Carol? Did he just walk by?? I need answers bc it’s lowkey creepy lol

At least Finn has learned how Burt is legit the best dad and is happy to hang with him. And it’s well done, how Finn’s part is pretty wrapped up, but there’s still Kurt on the outside, bc it’s not all perfect yet.

I’ll say it every time. The best Glee writing went to this family dynamic. Mainly Burt and Kurt, but really the 4 of them together. I love it.

#glee #glee rewatch #Kurt Hummel #Glee Season 1 #Glee Home

[harleyquinnzelz]

Personal Update

Just some life update stuff since I went radio silent for a month.

Okay so I finally geared myself up to post about this here, on my blog, for you guys to see. It’s been weighing heavily on my mind for a few weeks because I went from steadily putting out fresh content to... well, nothing. I was constantly motivated to create, to put out new and fresh edits. I was writing regularly, making actual progress on fics. It felt great. I was in a wonderful mental state, working on writing a fic that I love, with ocs that I adore. Beyond that, I was lucky enough to have multiple outlets where I could gush about these ocs, and more specifically where I was able to have wonderful conversations with friends about all of our ocs. Really, I was in a wonderful mental state, probably the best I had been in for a long time. 

Then, on August 14th, after a week spent at my parents’ house dog-sitting, I came home to learn that one of our cats, Guppy, had unexpectedly died literally within 10 minutes of my arriving home. Look, I know I don’t share much personal stuff on this blog. I like to stay pretty private in public posts, but those of you who know me well know that I adore my cats, so coming home to learn that one of them had died, after I had spent a week away was devastating. 

I won’t go into too many details here, but a little over a year ago Guppy unexpectedly got outside. We are very good at keeping our cats inside usually but a repairman was working on something in the house and at some point she had slipped outside. By the time we had found her, she was under the house and it took us a while to coax her out. Once we had, we realized at some point she had gotten injured and fractured her jaw. What followed was a series of vet trips to our local emergency clinic, surgery, and a diagnosis of FIP. We were hopeful that it was a false positive in the test as the months went by and Guppy seemed to have fully recovered. For those of you who don’t know, FIP has many neurological side-effects and over the course of a year we noticed no signs that there was anything wrong. We thought for sure that Guppy was going to be just fine, so her sudden passing hit hard. She was only three years old, after all, and an energetic, playful cat. On top of her sudden death was the very real worry that it was some other kind of sickness and that our other cat, Reid, may have gotten infected. 

Now, while Guppy was a family cat, Reid is and has always been my cat, brought with me when I moved in with my boyfriend and his family. He’s my best friend, and I love him more than I could put into words. He is also much older than Guppy was so there was a very real fear that I could potentially lose him as well. Thankfully, an emergency check-up with our vet showed that, aside from an asthma diagnosis, Reid is perfectly healthy for his age. Our vet was also kind enough to offer us some insight into the potential cause for Guppy’s sudden passing. As thankful as I am that Reid is okay, with that confirmation came grief over Guppy and, as could be expected, my mental health took a dive. Pair that with falls imminent arrival (seriously guys the seasonal depression gets bad) and just... mentally I was not doing great. And my creative outlets suffered for it. 

I know it seems silly to complain about that but seriously, I’m a creative person and having something to focus that creative energy on really help my mental state. On top of that, with no current hyperfixation (again, I know it’s a silly thing to worry about) I felt listless. I had nowhere to focus creative energy, despite desperately wanting to create. 

So now it’s a month later and... look, I’m not going to say that I’m feeling better. I still miss Guppy, and I am anticipating the end of summer when the season depression will hit hard, but I am finally getting into the swings of creating again. I don’t know yet what the game plan is, I’m torn between working on either my Scream fic or my Stranger Things fic, but you guys can expect some updated character intros (to the surprise of absolutely nobody I’ve changed a lot of characters face claims) so hopefully that will inspire me to actually write. 

A bit of good news to end what is otherwise a very depressing post, we have recently become the temporary home of a mama cat who gave birth to four, that’s right four, adorable kittens, two of which we are planning on keeping for ourselves. They are absolutely precious and have recently begun to walk and I think watching their growth has helped all of us start to process our grief regarding Guppy. 

But yeah, that’s what’s going on in my life currently, and this post ended up being far longer than I intended, but I’m going to try to start making content again, and I’m in the process of getting my queue up and going (And if I’ve missed posts I’ve been tagged in over the a last month I am so sorry you guys). I’m also, tentatively, working towards starting to do art commissions for character designs and am in the process of building up a bit of a portfolio of sorts. Basically, I’m trying to be productive and we’ll just have to see how that works. Anyway, I love you guys and wanted to thank any of you who have been patient enough to stick around after a month of exactly 0 content. 

#cat talks #personal update #that ended up being waaay to long #so sorry about that

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

Been stewing on this for a few days (might be controversial, but I don't really care)

I think my issue with takes that unironically excuse or downplay the impact of c!Quackity torturing c!Dream has nothing to do with misinterpreting authorial intent; we have no way to be absolutely sure what's going through the writer's head, and even if we did, everybody sees fiction differently.

Nor does it have anything to do with the morality of enjoying a fictional person's suffering. Because once again, that's all very subjective, the people suffering aren't real, and to be fair, sometimes it can be cathartic to watch a villain get everything they've done thrown back tenfold.

It's just that reading c!Quackity's story like that is... boring.

Like, even if you don't give two shits about c!Dream's feelings - and you shouldn't have to - there's so much other interesting stuff to work with!

I want to dig deep into how trauma affects the way a person processes their life and how they judge who is worthy of their trust. How people determine when others have crossed a moral line, how someone can continue to justify themselves even after they cross those very same lines, and what happens when they realize they've become the bad guy and still don't stop.

I want to watch how someone can be desensitized to constant violence, and the way it leaves marks that you can't scrub out. How you can ward off your own trembling at the memories of dead eyes and destroyed homes with slightly different examples of the same. How your gut sinks when you discover that the vicious thing inside you that you thought was given a safe, healthy, cathartic outlet is leaking into the world of the innocent.

I want to understand how you can carry a knife in one hand and wedding rings dangling on a chain from the other, held as far apart as you can reach, because you can't bear to cross those lines and stain something that was supposed to safe and peaceful and good. How you can look the child you're trying to avenge in the eyes and lie to him because you've felt his pain, but you also know he's kinder and better than you, and it's already enough that one person looks at you with fear, and you can't bear to see that fear mix with disappointment. How you can lie awake thinking about blank lines of paperwork and the grime beneath your nails and sly smiles and lost bets and broken promises (and screams and sobs that stopped being soothing a long time ago), and wonder what happens when the same sharp edge is turned against you and the ones you love, too.

I want to see how you can choose to put the blade down, change your plans, and trick your fuming heart into believing that it's not weakness or guilt holding you back. That it's all going to be worth it. That both of you are going to get what you deserve (and you already know what that is, that you're heading to the same place in hell as everyone you despise, that there's no turning back anymore, that you are irreparably soiled by what you've done here, and that your only hope is to leave a message behind and hope that someone, anyone, will remember you fondly-)

I want to question what it really means to "deserve" something, and wonder how much it really matters. I want to see the good, the bad, and everything in between. I want to see somebody go to the darkest depths imaginable, and still choose to return.

The prison arc and by extension the rest of the Las Nevadas arc is the perfect place to explore all of that. So why not?

#dsmp #c!quackity #tw torture #tw abuse #fandom critical #discourse #sigh... i guess. #please don't take this as a personal attack on anyone #i just wanted to pour out a few thoughts

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Sweet High Guardian Eps💖💙💛💚

Welcome to High Guardian Academy!

     Rosemary and Sage, after many years of working and dreaming, finally get to go High Guardian Academy to become Guardians, to serve and protect the world! They meet new friends, rivals and so much more to come! The one thing that they didn't meet was what they were expecting.

First Day

     It's the first day at HGA! Rose hopes to have a great first impression like her mom, Sage hopes to have a calm orientation, Rye hopes to get into artificing and Brae seems interested in a growing rot issue but first times don’t always go as planned.

Roomie Rumble

     Rose and Sage get to share dorm rooms but rooming together proves to be harder than the besties thought. Meanwhile Rye, wanting to be on good terms with her new roomie, gets Brae a room warming plant which proves to be anything but.

Missing Petals

     As Rosemary goes through her mother’s old yearbook back when she was in HGA, spots a mysterious girl and sets to find her and potentially more about her mom. Meanwhile as Sage helps her aunts with some attic cleaning, happens to finds a new discovery about her old-magic mom.

How To Train Your Terrapshere

      After some talking and A LOT of thinking, Sage decides to get her very own terrapshere but it proves to be more trouble than she thought. Meanwhile Rosemary tries to get to know the secretive Brae better.

Rotten Secrets

     While trying to learn more about the rot, the gang come to learn dark truths the Academy’s been hiding, not jsut about the rot.

Distrust Exercises

     To help the kids get along better with eachother outside of their teams, Professor Caraway(haven’t rewritten him yet so I’ll use his canon name), sets up some team exercises but ends up making matters worse.

Test #We Lost Count

      What starts off as When Brae tries to get advice on getting rid of the rot on the trees, Sage forms a rivalry with fellow prodigy in new magic, Saffron as they debate which magic's better, leading to disastrous results. Meanwhile Rose is helping Rye test out some of her new magic infused weaponry.

Cat Theif

     The gang’s weapons are mysteriously taken and go on a thrilling detective story to find the weapons and the culprit and find more than what they were expecting. Olive's debut.

Might Club

     Wanting to show his manliness as a warrior, Snap ends up joining a secret Guardian fight club but can he overcome his own insecurities?

Dungeons & Drama

     Wanting the team to be closer, Rose has the team do her fav LARP D&D game which may become their last. 

The Arts & Craft

     Feeling she’s not making enough progress in her magic, Sage ends up joining a dark magic club with new and old witches liking to test the limits of their skill but soon realizes there’s a limit she’s not willing to cross and one the club won’t take no for an answer. Meanwhile Caraway has Parsley do a interesting art project to help give her a healthy outlet for her stress.

A Disenchanting Day

     Rosy eyed Rose is paired up with akward jaded Snap as they end up sharing each other perspectives and even more during a small fantasy quest. Meanwhile the Trio and Saffron are stuck to help with a slimy situation.

Sweet High Halloween

     It’s Halloween in Lyngarth and everyone’s getting their freaky on for fun and spooks but little do they know is someone looking for more.

Every Rose Has Her Thorns

     During a journey in the magical field of memories, Rose gets lost literally down memory lane, reliving the memories of when her mother, Lobelia(renaming Labender to Lady Lobelia), was around. Though soon enough, the nostalgia fades and so does Rose’s perfect view of her mother

The Peak Point

     The gang are on a journey to the mountains to find unrecovered Guardians and end up finding out about Rye's unresolved past.

Into The Woods

     Lately Brae’s been off her game. One day she passes out and ends up in critical condition and she finally opens up to the team about her story.

Enter The Dragon

     To save an ill Brae along with other magic-born species from the invasive rot, the gang set to go into the infamous Dragon of Lyngarth’s Lair to find a potential healing crystal but end up having to also deal with a cat and snake.

Witch Hunt

    Questions rise about the Rot’s origins, causing old and new magic users begin to point fingers and spheres at each other over it. Sage and Saffron must put aside their differences and work together to help Professor RedBud follow a potential link to one of the sources. Meanwhile to descalate things back at the Academy, the trio help Prof Caraway keep the new and old magic users from a full on magic war.

Arm for An Arm

Rye looks for a important part for a secret project of hers and brings the gang along but come to realize jsut how far their friend will go for this part and revenge.

Changing Gears

With her friends in danger, Rye must put aside her grudge with the Triumvirate and give Olive a chance. Otherwise they’re all screwed.

Corrupted Campaign

Sage and Saffron butt heads as they campaign to be the next student rep for magic, leading to some rivalry. And a certain feline decides to help fuel the fire!

Among Usss

An impostor’s suspected in HGA and sends everyone on high alert. Suspicion and questions raise in them all, trying to figure out who among them is the enemy. More ends up being shown than expected.

Snake in the School

Now that the imposter, Mandrake’s been exposed in the school, the four & HGA must now get him out! In the process the girls end up finding other things.

Family Reunion

It's family day at HGA, where the all the students parents get to visit and see what they've been up to. Brae gets a shocking visit and everyone especially Rose faces a shocking new guest.

Attack On Triumvirate

Rye finally gets a chance to confront the Triumvirate member who destroyed her home and family but will she only lose more again?

What do u think? Any ideas you have? I’d love to know💖

#sweet high guardians #high guardian academy #high guardian spice #sweet high guardian

[mint-yooxgi]

Hi! I just had to say I absolutely LOVE your y!Yuta x chubby reader story. As a chubby person myself I'm thankfull that there are romance stories of us as the mc. There should be more though since then we (chubby people) would realize we dont have to be 'skinny' in order to be loved we are just as loveable as anybody else and we dont have to 'work' on ourselves before getting into a relationship (The same could also be said about disabilities- we dont see much of a romance novels/stories esp. fanfictions with a disabled mc. Or at least I haven't). Well, actually i think this 'you have to look certain way in order to be loved" is something everybody has been told and the media enforces it (explains pick me's peraphes?). That problem should def be fixed.

Also I love that you showed us her inner thoughts and that she had a couple of very supportive around her (i would never be brave enough to talk about my struggles with my friends, they are great friends actually i just don't like to talk about my feelings lol).

Another thing I loved was how your characthers always ask for consent (in other drabbles too). I feel it's sooooo important to have it in (esp. yandere) stories like that. Though consent should be asked all the time even if they already have been togheter for years. And the ending where Yuta say: "Now, it's time for mine." sounds more like a demand than asking for consent. Something like: "Can I now have mine?" should work better. Of course unless it's the point that they never consider yn's feelings or thoughts since they are at the end of the day yandere and they 'know' what's best for their lover.

Oh no, I'm sorry i babbled so much but overall I really liked your drabble and I cant wait for more! Best of luck!

Hello there! Thanks so much for reading and enjoying my fic!!

I agree, there should always be more stories that are inclusive to everyone!! The media definitely plays a strong role in society and culture by enforcing beauty standards and ableist notions. Again, I agree, it should change and be more inclusive for everyone.

And oof, take it from one who has done the exact same thing as you before by not sharing my feelings. Don't do that. In the end, you're telling yourself that your emotions, boundaries, thoughts, and feelings don't matter by pushing them aside like that. Especially if they're negative, all of those feelings are just going to keep building and by keeping them bottled up, they might just one day overflow and become so much more than one can handle. I would recommend getting in contact with a therapist or a counsellor at least so you can have a healthy outlet for those feelings if you feel as if you cannot talk to your friends about them!

Again, thank you! I agree, I think consent is very important not only in stories, but just in general! Though, I'm going to have to agree to disagree on you comment about the last line of my fic. I can 1000% understand how it could be interpreted that way. However, given everything else in that fic that Yuta does and says, he would never, not in a million years, ever do anything like that without the OC's consent. If the OC immediately goes 'no' or 'stop' or even so much as grimaces or hesitates, he would not go forward with what he was about to do.

The reason it ends with that line is due to a few reason.

Pacing of the fic - The line at the end is meant for impact, ending on a high note. The flow of the story is always important to me, and it felt right to end it as I did, as I had always planned.

Yuta's character - as mentioned previously, throughout the fic, the OC's comfort and personal preference are Yuta's number one priority. During the smut scene, he even explicitly states so, and as soon as the OC expressed hesitation or discomfort, he immediately asked if they wanted to stop. During this scene, Jiyeon calls and takes the OC's attention away from him, and Ayato was brought up again, so his jealousy is simmering beneath the surface. I wrote him with great undertones of possessiveness, so this comment also stems from this.

Like I say in my disclaimer right at the beginning, I wrote this fic explicitly for me. At the end of the day, I'm going to write what I want to see, and I enjoy that line, honestly. The way I interpret it is that now that Yuta finally has the OC, so to speak, he is overcome by his desire for them, and finally he gets to act on it. To me, knowing someone is desperate and wanting me like that is quite attractive, and given how I wrote Yuta's character (and all my other characters in general) I know that he would never force himself onto the OC like that. Maybe that wasn't clear enough in the fic, though.

I do really appreciate this feedback, though, and I'll try to keep it in mind for next time! I'm always very conscientious of consent in my fics, especially my yandere ones, so I hope to continue to write them like I have been.

Thanks again for reading my fic, I'm glad you enjoyed it!

#ask #admin's thoughts #my opinion

[ask-sweetscream]

Origins

Read on ao3

Remus had a busy day ahead of him. He planned on starting a surprise sparring match with Roman, gifting Virgil a harmless emotional support pet tarantula in front of Patton and while the others are calming him down, sneaking into Pat’s room with Janus to continue their Dance Dance Revolution competition. If he has time after that he would attempt to rile Logan up again to see if he could get the nerd to lose his temper again and get at least a little of the frustration that has been building in the logical side out to prevent a full blown explosion for just a little while longer.

Looking down at his to-do list again he looks at the last item. That wasn’t a sustainable solution to the Logan situation. While it would be cathartic to have the nerd spew out the grievances and pain he hid, even if it was to him instead of the ones who caused that pain, that was no way to express one’s emotions in the long term. Considering this he ripped his list. His surprise attack on Roman could wait and he could always just leave the spider on Virgil’s bed. Janus would likely also approve postponing their DDR time to help him with the new plan.

A few hours of planning later Remus pops into Logan’s room.

“Hi ya nerd! What are you up to” He asks in a playful tone.

“Hello Remus, I’m just finishing up Thomas’s schedule to make up for lost cleaning time, again” That last word is mumbled under his breath.

“Perfect! I want your help with something. How good are you at programming?”

“I am relatively proficient. Thomas spent a few weeks hyper fixated on programming while back. While he doesn’t remember anything he learned,” Logan answered slightly agitated that all that learning went to waste, “I retained all the skill that Thomas absorbed during that time.”

Without another word Remus grabbed Logan’s wrist and dragged him to a room with Janus and a computer with two human-like models designed and rigged. One was a tall, androgynous humanoid with animal-like facial features and a lowkey punk-rock style that shared Remus’s color pallet. The other was shorter with dark skin and looked like an entirely human woman with the exception of the hair that looked more like cotton candy than anything else. She wore a pink leotard with a peppermint logo on her chest and a swirly purple skirt that wouldn’t look out of place in SIX! The musical. She also possessed a ginormous spherical lollipop that put anime mallets to shame. Looking closer they both had microphone headsets and there were a bunch of songs listed in another window.

“What did you need my help with again?” Logan asked, his frustration from earlier temporarily being replaced with confusion and curiosity.

“Well, Remus has a particular love for Vocaloids and had the 'brilliant' idea to create two of his own to live with us in the mind palace. Most likely to help get songs stuck in Thomas’s head” Janus helpfully answered , “Remus did the designing and chose out some of his favorite songs for them to start with and then insisted I help him with their animation since I 'love' wasting my time on art projects like this.”

“That’s Right! And now I need someone to help me program their voices and personalities. I figured you could since you’re such a nerd”

“Alright then, what did you have in mind?” Logan asked with a slight smile as he sat at the computer. Janus took a step back. He was surprised about how well Remus’s plan was working so far. When Remus pitched it to him this morning he truly did think it was a waste of time, but now, seeing Logan simultaneously feel needed again while also helping to create a healthy outlet for his emotions, the reptilian man had no regrets about postponing his plans with Remus. Besides, now he has more time to practice so he can defeat Remus’s high score once and for all.

#sweet scream #sanders sides vocaloid au #sugar swirl #nightscream #not an ask

[passionatecatalyst-blog]

london is hard work

of course hanging out with rj means getting into an exclusive members-only club at soho house. it's pretentious as fuck but also a beautiful space, rooftop terrace with a pool in the middle, and views for days. we hung out with his friend and 2 greek guys, one who slightly reminded me of the sky captain with his dark mediterranean good looks. he told me that london is fantastic in so many ways but that it is also HARD WORK. i just need to accept that fact and get used to having to put in the work that it entails to make it as meaningful and adventurous and fun as i want it to be.

i went to the holy art fair by the river yesterday. i took an edible and wanted to just walk around on my own and take in the art, but it was a much more stressful experience because there were so many people in a small space as well as the artists standing around watching everyone walk by. i could feel my heart racing and my natural tendency is to want to avoid social interactions while high. there was a part of me that wanted to engage with the artists because intellectually, i know this is how i want to move in the world - to be open-hearted and get to know people in whatever capacity and to be engaged with the world. this is how you make friends. but my nervous system tells me differently and my automatic reaction is one of avoidance and it's hard to overcome. how much of my life has been run by my hypersensitive nervous system?

it was inspiring to see the different types of art and ideas and approaches that artists take, from various styles of painting to combining elements of collage or other materials. it was a reminder that i am still looking to find a creative outlet of my own.

i'm creating my own suffering by letting my behavior be dictated by the weather. i know intellectually that i will feel better if i just get outside and attend events rather than hole up in the depressing flat while staring at the grey skies outside. just need to push through that barrier that i've created in my head to break through to the outside world.

i've also realised that london is where spontaneity comes to die. everything and everyone needs to be booked in advance. i've held off on making plans until the day of but then the options become so much more limited. just to adjust my behavior and accept that i can't live as spontaneously as i want if i want to live in london.

i'm so used to being healthy, i probably take it for granted too much. now i've developed a weird clustered rash on my forehead, combined with an earache, swollen lymph glands behind my left ear, and a harder lump behind my right ear. what could it be? shingles? some sort of bacterial infection or virus? trying hard not to catastrophize but what if this is the beginning of some chronic illness? dear universe, please let me be healthy again.

my supervisor commented on how composed i seem all the time but wondered if i'm a composed swan on the surface with legs intensely kicking underneath the water. that image has stayed with me because it resonates. that and the icebreaker fish. i just need to keep moving forward and break down the barriers that get in the way of the life that i want to create.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Adopted AU

Same anon as before, let us see that post of Hunter and King as brothers

Eda pops in with a very traumatized child who may have left Belos at 11, but was still covered in physical and mental scars, and puts him in the same general area as a three year old demon with a napoleon complex. cue Hunter occasionally sneaking up behind King and curiously poking him until the demon gets annoyed and starts trying to grab him and Hunter scurries back to the corner to hiss at him, meanwhile King just wants to know Who The Weird Witch Is. its like trying to introduce cats but you forgot they gotta smell each other through the door first.

more under the cut

Hunter was very much Not on board with King calling him a minion or a subject, because you know, Belos trauma with him feeling like a lesser pawn in his plan, and after yelling at the itty bitty boy a few times and King feeling kind of bad when Eda scolded Hunter for doing so since King is Young and Hunter has no other idea how to express his emotions since he had no real healthy outlets at that point, King settled on calling him "the vagrant witch who remains in my kingdom but at a Price" and that price is the two of them teaming up to steal cookies, stuffed animals for King's kingdom, and hiding in small impossible spots around the Owl House which ends up in Eda whacking them with a broom to get 'em out. Hunter may have used King as a stuffed animal to sleep with in random spots around the house before he realized he had an actual bed now and King may have been forced to put up with it. kids went from mortal enemies to best partners in crime in the span of like 6 months. Hunter I imagine also would've felt he and King could bond over the fact they both have scars, Hunter's being literal and King's being his broken horn. he assumed King never brought it up because it was hard for him like how Belos was a tough topic for Belos but by the time he was like 13 he realized King just. didn't know

King also grew up with Hunter having night terrors and some ptsd. kids messed up as all hell and has had moments where he wakes up freaked out or starts suddenly shaking and falling to the floor seemingly out of the blue. took him a few years until he stopped getting terrified if someones voice raised even a little at him but even at 16 he still gets visibly nervous and his hands can shake sometimes. King didn't understand what was happening when those happened or why Eda looked so scared for him. first few times were a nightmare, and Hunter would curl up in the furthest corner where nobody could reach him and shrink away from everyone. King could almost always get to the same places as Hunter, so eventually he just started. crawling up to Hunter. wouldn't touch him, but he'd sit there quietly until Hunter calmed down or decided he Did actually want to hug the fluffy demon. King never really completely understood it because he only ever asked when he was like 4-5 and Eda has no idea how to explain to him that Hunter went through a lot of shit. so she best explained it as that certain things scare Hunter more than others because he had a bad experience with them, and thus he needed some help with it. worked enough for King. its also due to this and Hunter's aversion to any topics on Belos that King doesn't know Eda or Hunter's backstory. He grew up believing that most witches were like Hunter (not all, but a good few) and would go out of his way to not do certain things in public or to other witches he knew that upset Hunter. he thought that Hunter's scars were normal and that they were the coolest thing, because they meant he'd been in a lot of battles and he had to be really powerful to get that many scars. and he told Hunter as such, and it helped, just a bit.

Hunter and Luz have a 'god you annoy the hell out of me but unfortunately we also bond over similar things and I love you' sibling bond whereas Hunter and King is a 'we don't understand a thing about each other but we work well in crime and doing our best. also mildly bullying each others failures' sibling bond. King was more than a little shocked to learn that Emperor Belos was Hunter's uncle, and was 100% ready to dethrone him on the spot when he realized Belos was the cause of his trauma. he absolutely claimed that Hunter clearly must've beat Belos hard to come out alive after getting all those scars and Hunter wasn't going to dispute him. Hunter also didn't much get why King was so insistent on finding his father, what with Hunter having a pretty iffy bio family, but it was important to King, so he added research on demons like King to his never ending list of things to study for hours on in the dead of night. don't even get me STARTED on when King legally changed his last name to Clawthorne.

#asks #adopted au #the owl house #eda clawthorne #hunter #king #golden guard #the golden guard #eda #brothers #siblings #found family #bonding #owl fam #king clawthorne #emperor belos #belos #text post #tw trauma #tw mentioned child abuse #scars #luz noceda #ideas #headcanons #GOD i love these 2 they are BROTHERS #king has decided that if he ever sees belos again hes biting his ankles #king 'dw i can get my dad to beat up belos for you' clawthorne #if anyone wants to ask me what hunter thinks of raine i am all for it fellas im READY

[illuminatedquill]

Extracurricular, An Analysis

Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri

“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as it’s accomplice.”  - Tom Robbins 

You know the story. You’ve heard it before, right? 

Boy meets girl. 

Girl finds out that boy is running a side protection business for prostitutes. 

Girl decides to blackmail boy into letting her join his business. 

Classic high school criminal shenanigans ensue leading them into more dangerous situations where they are forced to make desperate decisions to stay alive. 

Oh, and they fall in love along the way. 

Oh? You haven’t heard this one before? Then let me introduce you to this delightful kdrama called Extracurricular. 

I watched this one while waiting for the newest Hometown Cha Cha Cha episodes to drop and ended up binging the whole series in two days. There are many remarkable parts of this series: it’s a crime drama, first and foremost, that showcases high school teenagers caught in a cycle of violence and crime, abandoned by the society and adults that are supposed to be protecting them. There are no clear good guys and bad guys in this drama; everyone is cast in shades of grey. Our main leads, Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri, run the prostitution business, and are both from broken family backgrounds. Their actions are morally questionable at best, but the top tier performances from Kim Dong Hee (you might remember him from Itaewon Class) and Park Ju Hyun make you cheer for them anyway. You want them to have a happy ending, despite the horrible things they do. The audience is always reminded that despite how clever they are in staying ahead, their actions have consequences, and they’re just high school kids. The drama never pulls it punches. 

But, weirdly enough, it’s also a love story. And that’s the part the really sticks with me until now. (The chemistry between the main leads is absolute dynamite and I could watch ten episodes of them just verbally sparring with each other. They don’t even kiss. They’re that fantastic when together on screen.)

I’m writing this because this is undoubtedly one of my all time favorite kdramas and I have a lot of feelings about our main pairing, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri. I can’t call them a couple (wait, didn’t I just say they fall in love) because their relationship can’t be labelled simply as that. Think of it as something similar to the main leads in My Ahjussi. Two people who should have become soulmates, yet met at the wrong time. 

This kdrama is not particularly happy, and while I do encourage people to watch this, I am warning that the subject matter is extremely dark. If you’re sensitive to scenes depicting sexual assault, graphic violence, or anything in that zip code you’ll want to steer clear. 

Also, I’ll be diving into spoiler territory in this analysis. So if you want to go in clean, then stop reading here. 

Still here? Awesome. Let’s dive deep into the messy, amazing pairing that is Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri. First, let’s do a brief character background on our two main leads, starting with Ji-soo. 

Oh Ji-soo is one half of our main pairing and this story starts with him. He lives by himself and has been essentially abandoned by his only parents; his father is a failed businessman who gambles whatever money he acquires on scams and his mother ran away. His apartment is small, sparse, but functional. He owns only a few outfits aside from his school uniform. The only unique item he owns is a pet hermit crab that he takes care of. His life outside of school is non-existent; he has no friends, no one to hang out with and do typical high school teenager activities with. He takes care of himself and lives only for himself and his “dream”: to graduate, attend college, get married, and have kids like a normal person. 

But to do that, he needs a large amount of money. He has no other financial means to do so (his father is largely absent, as is his mother), so he decides, at some point, to start up this protection business for prostitutes. The drama doesn’t go into detail about the how and why he came to this conclusion that this was the best way to make a lot of money in a short amount of time, so you’ll have to suspend your disbelief from the get go. Considering the themes of the story (how youths abandoned by society tend to act out in extreme ways to make it in this world), it’s not hard to believe his desperation would drive him to make such a decision. 

Ji-soo, despite his shady business, is actually a decent person. There’s a streak of humanity that exists inside him that refuses to go out, despite the increasingly dark and bleak events that start to overtake his life. He’s attached to his hermit crab, cares for his “employees” outside of them being tools to make him money, and doesn’t want to see anyone get hurt. He goes above and beyond what’s required to help out people at the risk of his own life (in particular, Gyu-ri, and we’ll get into that shortly). 

What we learn from the first few episodes is that Oh Ji-soo is extremely smart and methodical in how he approaches his life. At school, he is known as a model student - quiet, top of the class in terms of grades, doesn’t draw any attention to himself, always follows along with what the teachers ask of him. Only his homeroom teacher, Mr. Cho, seems to consider his quiet style of existence to be concerning and tries to make him less socially awkward by pairing him up with another student in a new extracurricular club. This leads to the introduction of Bae Gyu-ri, Ji-soo’s longtime crush and future partner-in-crime. 

Meet Bae Gyu-ri, the other half of our dynamic duo. Her introduction into the story kickstarts the entire plot, as one of her earliest actions leads to a domino effect that spells increasing doom and tragedy for our main leads. She messes with Ji-soo’s operation at a critical moment and she spends the rest of the drama doing her best to make up for the consequences that follow. 

In my personal opinion, she is probably the best main female lead I’ve ever seen in a kdrama. Hands down, no other character exists (currently) that rivals her sheer cunning, wit, and badassery. Gyu-ri is Crazy, capital C, and is the chaos to Ji-soo’s control; the fire to his ice. Despite being the direct cause of half the events that happen to Ji-soo in the drama, he can’t help but need her because of what she offers. They make an incredible team. Her competitiveness, her need to win no matter the odds, helps them survive time and time again. 

Gyu-ri is from the opposite end of the spectrum of Ji-soo; he’s dirt poor and she’s insanely rich (always nice to see a reversal of typical kdrama tropes). Her mother and father run a successful entertainment company. Gyu-ri is popular at school, friends with seemingly everybody, pretty, cheerful and gets along well with her teachers. Ji-soo, and the audience, believe from the beginning that she has the perfect life. It’s not hard to believe that she’s just involving herself in Ji-soo’s business because she’s bored and needs an outlet, at first. 

We soon learn otherwise. Gyu-ri has more in common with Ji-soo than he initially realizes, in that they’re both trapped in circumstances beyond their control - it’s just that Gyu-ri’s cage is gilded, whereas his is not. Her parents are strict and have her life planned out for her, all without her consent or input, leaving her feeling frustrated and powerless despite her rich lifestyle. A suicide attempt hasn’t done much to change her parents attitude towards her, only serving to further their control over her life. 

So, when she learns of Ji-soo’s operation she immediately seeks to angle her way into it. First, she tries to rip him off, believing that he’s an evil “pimp” and thus deserves it. But after spending some time with him, she changes her mind last second and decides to help him out instead. 

And, now, let’s get into their relationship, which is one of the best (if not the best) aspect in the entire series. 

I need to be upfront about something: the relationship between Ji-soo and Gyu-ri is not exactly healthy. I wouldn’t describe it as toxic - the circumstances surrounding them aren’t exactly the best environment to encourage open and honest communication - but it’s definitely not what should be considered ideal, especially for young adults, and especially for young adults who are dabbling in crime instead of studying. 

So, why do I love them so much? If you’ve read some of my previous posts, you know that I loathe toxic relationships in kdramas, so I understand if you think I’m coming off as hypocritical here. Why do I like Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri when I didn’t like, for example from recent history, (oh boy, here I go again on my Nevertheless BS) Park Jae-eon and Yu Na-bi?

First, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are way cooler than Jae-eon and Na-bi ever could be. They run a criminal enterprise that involves having a high amount of intelligence, cunning, and daring to do so. Do Jae-eon and Na-bi run a criminal enterprise as a side business? No, they don’t, because they’re boring art students. 

Secondly, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri actually progress in their relationship and change their views as they learn from each other. Now, granted, that progress isn’t towards becoming better versions of each other - quite the opposite. But at least they have progress. Jae-eon and Na-bi stayed in the same stupid cycle for the whole series and then decided that it was better staying that way as opposed to trying for something else. 

Last, but certainly not least, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are actually interesting to watch for me. The chemistry between Park Ju Hyun and Kim Dong Hee is explosive and they way they spar, exchange looks, and just generally exist around each other on screen is something I can watch forever. I’ve said this before but Han So Hee and Song Kang’s on screen chemistry, outside of their intimate scenes, really didn’t impress me. 

Okay, back to Extracurricular. This relationship, man. It’s all I can think about (other than HomeCha’s Du-sik and Hye-jin, but that’s another post). Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are so good together. 

I’ve noted before that Ji-soo is methodical in how he approaches his life; he plans out everything ahead, and rigs any situation as much as he can in his favor. It’s brilliant, but when a crisis happens, he doesn’t know how to deal with it effectively. He panics and flounders; becomes indecisive at a time when clear, decisive action is required. 

Enter Gyu-ri. She quickly becomes the partner he never knew he needed. When there’s a situation, she becomes invaluable in her quick thinking and wit, coming up with solutions on the fly. It’s not perfect, but it keeps them just one small step ahead of whatever is coming their way. 

The only thing preventing them from becoming unstoppable is the lack of communication and trust they have with each other. A lot of that has to do with how Gyu-ri entered Ji-soo’s business - she blackmailed him first, and, when that failed, she strong armed her way into getting him to accept her help. It’s implied in the drama that Ji-soo has had a crush on Gyu-ri for a while (since ninth grade, I believe) and in the first episode he actually gets the chance to spend time with her outside of school on a sort of quasi-date. 

It goes sideways pretty quickly because of some shenanigans from his business, but not before she gets to know him and says some pretty touching words regarding his situation. Poor guy is head over heels - even after finding out that she’s the one blackmailing him, his feelings are only dampened, not extinguished. When he catches a glimpse of her family’s situation, he gains a deeper understanding of her and why she acts the way she does. Even more importantly, Ji-soo treats her the same after finding out this information which, to someone like Gyu-ri, means more than if he comforted her about it. 

If you want to see a physical representation of how he feels, other than paying attention to his actions, you can see it in him keeping mementos from Gyu-ri. She has an interesting habit of folding bags into origami shapes and giving it to him. Even after the blackmail reveal, you can see that he continues to keep these in a container on his desk. It’s really cute that he keeps these, when it probably doesn’t even matter that much to Gyu-ri. 

Towards the end of the drama, Ji-soo prepares to turn himself in to prevent Gyu-ri from being implicated in the crimes they committed. And it costs him almost everything to protect her. Ji-soo, the quiet, nerdy kid, puts himself on the line time and time again to protect Gyu-ri, knowing that it puts his life and his dream at risk to do so. And all for what? For some girl that he thinks doesn’t even like him in return? 

Well, let’s talk about that. Because I’ve seen some comments that Gyu-ri was only using Ji-soo for her own selfish gain. And I can agree that was how it was at the beginning for her; she definitely was only interested in acquiring money, like Ji-soo was, in order to achieve her own goal of being free from her parents. 

But, oh man, that is not what is motivating her at the end. 

It’s actually pointed out relatively early by some of her friends that it’s obvious that she likes Ji-soo more than he likes her. Understandably Ji-soo is keeping her at arms length from him given the whole recent blackmailing, so it would make sense that it looks that way. 

Further questioning reveals what she likes the most about him: 

“It’s not like I’m crazy about him. He’s fun. And amusing. He’s smart. And there’s a certain charm he has. He also has a wolfish side to him. But he thinks he’s a puppy.” 

- Bae Gyu-ri

But, as she gets to know Ji-soo better, you can certainly see that she starts to fall hard for him. As a cover story for why they hang out so much together during and after school, Gyu-ri states to everyone that they’re dating. The reactions across the school definitely imply that this is a shocking development, which means that Gyu-ri hasn’t dated anyone before. So why Ji-soo other than the reasons she herself states? 

He challenges her, just as she challenges him. Gyu-ri may be the more dynamic, quick thinking of the pair but Ji-soo is every inch her intellectual equal - just in different ways. She doesn’t seem to be the type to be easily impressed, but you can tell that she’s definitely impressed by Ji-soo’s operation and how thoroughly set up it is. When Ji-soo is frustrated at the beginning by his setbacks, he blows up at another student (knocks him out in a crazy punch) and immediately walks over to Gyu-ri afterwards (who saw the whole thing) to inform her that she is now his partner in crime. 

The look in her eyes, and the small smirk she has speaks volumes about her attraction to him in that scene. Smoldering. 

And, oh yes, she’s prone to jealousy. Another classmate, Min-hee, gives Ji-soo a present out of the blue (it was supposed to be for her boyfriend, Ki-tae, but that’s another sub-plot) - all within view of Gyu-ri. It’s hilarious how she tries to brush it off. Later, for plot reasons, Ji-soo has to spend more time with Min-hee which only furthers Gyu-ri’s annoyance. 

And her motivations stop being entirely about the money and more towards helping preserve the dream that she and Ji-soo share about being free. There’s a scene in episode 8 where it’s revealed that, due to a business partnership with a local gang (set up by none other than Gyu-ri herself in a desperate move), Ji-soo would have to drop out of school permanently to work on their behalf. Gyu-ri overhears this and, despite badly needing the gang’s help in sustaining their own business, immediately terminates the partnership. 

All because it would interfere with Ji-soo’s dream. 

Man, if that isn’t love. 

In the following episode, Gyu-ri, and later on Ji-soo, is kidnapped by the same gang in retaliation for terminating their partnership. Ji-soo comes to her rescue but Gyu-ri is already almost free (again, she’s really, really badass) and is demanding that they bring Ji-soo to her instead of running for her life. 

Surviving this latest attempt puts the two in a reflective, vulnerable mood and Gyu-ri asks Ji-soo why he keeps saving her. Ji-soo asks later on why she keeps risking her life to be with him. They don’t say the answer in words but in an almost kiss (yeah, you read that right - almost). 

And then, if you aren’t already convinced, Ji-soo crosses his one last remaining line in an effort to keep Gyu-ri safe; he accidentally pushes a fellow classmate down some steps and, instead of helping her, leaves her to die after grabbing the evidence she has on him and Gyu-ri. 

Extracurricular pulls off quite the magic trick here, hiding this well done love story in the middle of a serious crime drama. 

The real tragedy is that Ji-soo thinks that Gyu-ri views this whole business, and by extension his life, as one big game. It’s something that she takes offense at, visibly becoming upset when he says that. 

But even if that were true, he should be assured since Gyu-ri doesn’t like to lose. 

As they hurtle towards the end and face up to the consequences of their actions, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri undoubtedly lose sight of their original goals and dreams. They do some fairly horrible things to stay alive and ahead of the police who are close on their trail. You can’t really blame them for doing what they did; in the face of a society that has abandoned them, what they’re doing is a logical outcome to gain what they want so desperately and deserve so much: the chance to be free to live like normal, care-free people. 

I can’t say for certain that they achieve that. The drama is serious in consequences and, at the end, the net around them is drawing tighter and tighter. I won’t spoil the ending scene for you, because I highly encourage you watch this drama yourself but I will say this: Ji-soo and Gyu-ri seem stuck in an impossible situation with nowhere to go, and no one to help them, with a clock ticking down towards either death or discovery by the police. 

But, all the same, I’m always the optimist. They’ve gotten through situations like this before and they can certainly do so again. Maybe not as bad as this one, but not too far out of their league. And, like I mentioned before, Gyu-ri doesn’t like to lose. Especially when it comes to Ji-soo. 

Their relationship is truly dangerous, as Ji-soo himself notes. Them being together is the source of their problems; they’re too much alike now, as opposed to the beginning of the drama where he stated that they’re too different. Their love is the kind of love where both of them are willing to burn the whole world down if it means keeping each other safe. 

I’m a real sucker for those kind of love stories. No one’s a hero here. They’re just kids in high school, doing the best with what they know. 

Who are we to judge what is right and wrong? Especially when the one committing the acts are high school kids who don’t know any better and just want to save each other? 

Do we have that right? 

Do they really deserve that punishment? Shouldn’t we be pointing fingers at the society that forced them to act this way? 

Extracurricular really makes you think about that. Is it really so outlandish and terrible what Ji-soo and Gyu-ri do to survive when the adults who are supposed to be protecting them, teaching them better, have failed in their duty? 

Maybe they really did win at the end. Not so much in succeeding in their goals but in gaining something that not even regular people are likely to find - a partner, a soulmate, someone who will stand by you no matter what. 

If you do watch the ending, and are not an optimist like I am, then all I can say is this: whatever happened, they were together at the end. 

They were together. 

#extracurricular netflix #human class #netflix #kdrama #oh jisoo #bae gyuri #park joo hyun #park ju hyun #kim dong hee