#been baseball posting on main for the most part

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Hello! For the cafe event, could I get a smoothie bowl with jazzy juice please? Thank you! 💖

- 👑

Hello 👑 Anon! ☆

Thank you so much for your order! ♡ I hope you enjoy! ♡

This is part of an event I'm doing where people can request stories by placing orders! For more information, please refer to this post! ♡

⋆ 𝓥𝓲𝓵 𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓮𝓷𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓽: 𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓲𝓷 ⋆

One smoothie bowl and a jazzy juice, coming right up! ♡

⋆ In movies, there were always moments that stood out. Moments that made an impact, that people remember for years to come. Sad moments, dramatic moments, funny moments. Character deaths that everyone seems to know, plot twists that left people reeling, jokes that people recite, without having seen the movie in question. For Vil, his dream was to make an impact like this, to have a moment where everyone remembers him. His role, his acting, his work. Ever since you've became a couple though, his attention has been drawn to a specific genre, even auditioning for a role in one.

⋆ Romance movies were well known throughout the film industry, with moments that leave couple's longing to have them. Moments that inspire proposals, weddings, even honeymoons. Moments that left the viewer wanting, wondering what a romance like that would be like. For someone to run after you before you go, stopping you from getting on your train, or in your car, or on the plane. For someone to reunite with you after so long, yet the love you still hold for each other remains, unwavering after years of distance. For someone to run up to you, holding you close and spinning you around as you both laugh in delight, uncaring of the stares around you. For someone to love you, to truly love you, exactly as you are.

⋆ He doesn't want to play the antagonist, or the side character, or the rival. He wants to be the main character, the main love interest, your love interest, for as long as you'll allow him. You are his, after all. The only love interest he has ever wanted, the only person he has ever longed for. So, indulge him, won't you? When he's feeling sentimental, his longing for you getting to be too much, his heart overflowing in his love and adoration for you.

⋆ You had just gone to the theaters to see his most recent film, Vil wearing a disguise so you could enjoy your date privately. You couldn't help but think he still looked handsome, dressed more casually than usual with a pair of sunglasses on his face and a baseball cap on his head. Now that the sun had set, and you were away from the theater, he put his sunglasses away, giving you a better view of his face. The film was a romantic drama, with Vil playing the main character's rival, who was the main love interest's ex. You were enraptured by his performance, unable to take your eyes off him whenever he was on screen. He played the bitter ex well, with moments that made it clear his character was still hopelessly in love with the love interest.

⋆ You couldn't help but feel he would have been better suited as the main character though, thinking about your relationship with him. The main character had been devoted, stern yet caring in his love for his partner. It was clear he had only wanted the best for them, and as you watched their relationship unfold, you couldn't help but think, Vil would have been perfect for this. He should have been the main character. You tell him as much, causing a smile to come to his face.

⋆ As you're walking it begins to drizzle lightly, reminding you of a scene from the movie. In it, the main character and love interest were sitting outside at a restaurant, eating while listening to a band play. The love interest hints that they want to dance with him, leading the main character to drag them near the band. As they begin dancing it starts to drizzle, the main character and love interest having no plans on stopping. It was a cute scene, with them sharing their first kiss before Vil's character interrupts them.

⋆ It seems Vil must be thinking the same thing, pausing as his gaze lingers on a restaurant nearby. There was no band playing, or dinner date, but in that moment he wanted to pretend. Pretend that he was the main character and you were the love interest. Pretend that you had just had a wonderful dinner date, hinting how you wanted to dance with him. He looks at you before pulling you along, urging you to follow him. He stops near the outdoor dining area, where fairy lights shine as the rain continues to drizzle. You can't stay out here too long, he doesn't want either of you to get sick. But indulge him, won't you, when he pulls you in close and sways with you to an unheard beat.

⋆ Lost in your own world as you move to a silent song, his gaze never leaving you. Once your hair starts to become damp, some pieces sticking to your face, he decides your dance must end, even if he longs for it not to. He reminds himself that there will be other dances, other moments for you to have as he holds your cheek in his hand. The kiss you have is slow, as if he wants to savor it, to burn it into his mind. As he pulls away he realizes the rain has started to come down heavier, taking a moment to catch his breath before leading you to shelter. Unlike the movie, there is no credits that will roll, or a romance that will end anytime soon ♡

I hope you enjoyed your meal, and thank you for visiting the Cathie Cafe! ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[cookeybg]

Unexpected Cohabitation a JonDami fic

Before we get to the story I have a few words to say...

First of all, Hello!

Not sure if this will reach anyone, but I had an itch to write, so I did. I almost never post anything. I have reposted a couple things but I'm mostly a lurker and enjoy others creativity and thoughts, I like to think of myself as a cat with few brain cells.

Anyways, I read a manga YEARS ago and enjoyed it greatly and thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be funny/interesting if Jon and Damian were stuck in this situation?" Let's see if anyone eventually gets what manga I was reminiscing.

Now, this is the first time I've ever posted anything I've written and I am not confident AT ALL if this is going to be any good, but I really hope someone out there enjoys reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it...Also not sure if I should post it on Ao3???

Well enough of my ramblings on to the story.

Title: Unexpected Cohabitation

Main Characters: Jonathan Kent and Damian Wayne (some of the others show up too, the list is too long)

Eventual relationship: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne (my fave)

Stuff to know: No capes, reverse robins, high school AU, no smut, no Brucie Wayne, I know nothing about sports but it will show up, (aaand I think that's it, will add more if it comes up)

Part 1 - Chapter 1

Jon placed his lunch tray next to Kathys’ as he discreetly looked around the lunch room trying to catch a glimpse of his crush. He had only briefly seen him at the mall during summer break and in a panic hid from him behind a rack of clothes. He had regretted not saying hello and had daydreams of himself going up to him, all cool and complementing the brown eyed boy’s pink fluffy hair and then asking him out to watch a movie at the mall theater. Sadly, the daydreams would come crashing down when he remembered his mother placing shirts in front of him and trying to measure him up before heading into the dressing room. It’s not that he was embarrassed of his mom its just, he was wearing sweats and an old hoodie since none of his clothes fit him anymore due to his growth spurt and, well, his mom could be a bit much, sometimes. Throughout the whole shopping trip when she would meet an acquaintance or friend she kept gushing about how quick kids grew and how she wished they would just stop sometimes. Jon would have to bury himself if anyone from school had been exposed to that.

“Looking for Jay?” Kathy asked. Jon looked at Kathy like a deer caught in the headlights and immediately turned red. He sat down abruptly causing his tray to nearly tip unto him. He scrambled to right his milk carton before it fell. Once settled, he sighed and mumbled, “That obvious?” Kathy smirked and bit into her carrot stick making a loud snap. Jon squirmed while opening his milk carton, he took a big swing, pointedly ignoring Kathy’s stare. “Why don’t you just confess?” Kathy asked. “Confess?” Jon spluttered, “He doesn’t even know I exist!” “Jon, you two were in the same history class last year. He knows who you are.” “Yeah. But we never talked.” “Then, how about you talk to him?” That would be so awkward…” Jon bit into his chicken strip. Kathy rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. Jon smirked and leaned in conspiratorially, “But I have a plan.” “And that is?” “I’m joining the journalism club.” “What!” Kathy yelled in surprise and then moderated her voice when some people who she startled glared at her, “ I thought you were going to join the baseball team this year, since, you know, your not in a cast anymore.” “The doctor has given the all clear and physical therapy is all done. The doctor was very impressed with how quickly I healed.” “Will they even let you do both clubs?” “Yep, I asked!” Their conversation was cut short when a murmur spread through the cafeteria like a wave. The main players of the baseball team stepped through the open double doors, all nine wearing their letterman jackets. In the lead was the most popular guy in school, Damian Wayne. Whose father was nicknamed the Prince of Gotham. Who in turn married an actual princess from some far off land, giving Damian actual royal blood. Girls wanted him and guys wanted to be him, but from what Jon had heard, guys wanted him too. Damian’s bright green eyes stood out against his brown skin, his gold earring glinted under the florescent light. He scanned the cafeteria with what looked like a sense of boredom. Colin, Jon called him Damian’s second in command, had one arm casually draped around Damian’s shoulders gesticulating wildly with his free hand. The group laughed at whatever the Colin said, but Damian only smiled as he started walking towards their unofficial table. Colin and the rest of the group broke off shoving and cracking jokes at each other while making line to pick up food. Kathy whistled beside Jon, “Now he’s someone who doesn’t know you exist.” “He looks and probably is, conceited.” Jon said offhandedly. “Look at him, he has reason to be.” “Doesn’t mean it’s cool.” “Doesn’t mean he’s not hot.” Jon turned to look at Kathy, but she wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead she was looking in Damian’s direction. Jon looked around and noticed that many were doing the same. He dragged his eyes back to look at Damian. The dude sat straight backed, elegantly eating his homemade meal from some fancy lunch bag that was probably more expensive than anything Jon owned, and scrolling on his phone completely ignoring the many eyes staring at him. Colin returned with the rest of the group nudging Damian and dropping his lunch tray with a loud smack, receiving an unimpressed glare in return. Colin smiled and placed a fruit cup in front of Damian. Jon personally didn’t get the allure. The couple of times he had seen Damian interact with others it was usually acerbic. Somehow that did not lessen his popularity and it left Jon dumbfounded. I good person should be good to others and being polite was a given, his Grandma said so and she was never wrong. Jon shrugged and went back to eating his school lunch. The rest could keep Damian he very much preferred Jay.

I hope you enjoyed it! Will post more soon, hopefully.

[maxphilippa]

Nickel's sense of guilt and fear of change. [Character/II S3 Episode 14 Analysis, part 1/?]

Today, the longest episode of Invitational has dropped, and I have many thoughts of it as well. Might do more posts analyzing the events that ocurred as of now in canon, but I would like to talk about the heaviest part in the lore and how most people are not getting it completely (in my opinion), and that being: Nickel's current point of view of Balloon and his relationship with Suitcase and BB.

We all know that Nickel's actions hurted the Grand alliance, but what happened in the episode is that they showed how apparently, Nickel doesn't get exactly that things were completely fucked up.

In the episode, he mainly focuses on the good memories he had with BB and Suitcase, and doesn't even seem to hate Suitcase either, unlike what most people thought (me included to an extent, though I did see him being hurt mostly with their relationship and what happened in s2), but.

Nickel doesn't realize that he actually fucked up with them a lot, and that's the main issue.

Like, sure. He knows that stuff were messy at points but that's all he says. He mainly focuses on the good moments he had with them, maybe that's a product of him growing once he got eliminated and came to terms with himself that "well yeah there was a bit complicated shit but we still had fun together", but deep down he feels a sort of... guilt? Regarding Suitcase.

But even then, Balloon scolds him for trying to erase the times where Nickel made all of them feel bad. Hell! Even then Balloon recognizes that Nickel hurted Baseball deeply! And he says how Suitcase was the only one who had enough courage to stand up for her! Because hey! Nickel did use the same treatment that he used with Suitcase on Baseball! But the difference is that BaseBall kept making excuses for him!

The person who Nickel has been, alongside Baseball, "ignoring" of some sorts, has been Suitcase.

But here's the thing as well: Nickel doesn't know how to make things better again.

Nickel doesn't understand... feelings and complex emotions to put it shortly. He's afraid of change, and the way he just ignores the bad stuff that happened and tries to say that it's the only way that things can work, is... somewhat sad. Nickel doesn't understand a lot of stuff. He probably thinks that, at the end of the day, those were just little conflicts and that there was more good than bad.

But... that would mean he would also be running away from his consciousness over what Suitcase told him.

About how none of what they had was real.

He doesn't realize the damage he has done because hey. As much as you all like to think that Nickel didn't have his reasons to be a dick towards Balloon, he did. He actually did. He even mentions it in this episode, that if Balloon didn't try to manipulate everyone just as S1 started, maybe things would be different.

Nickel SAW and KNOWS Balloon's by his awful actions, and he wanted to protect BaseBall and Suitcase from him, since he thinks that Balloon CAN'T be trust-worthy after everything he did in S1.

That's why he was so aggressive as well towards Balloon. Yes, he cared for BaseBall, but he also cared for Suitcase deeply. The thing is that Suitcase was Balloon's friend, and Nickel can't bring himself to think that someone who he saw being such an awful person, could possibly be targetting someone who he cares about as well. So that's why he tried to push Balloon away for so long. He tried to keep his relationship with Suitcase and BB, he even says it in S2 when Suitcase confesses that she voted for him.

But of course, this is even more complicated. Both Nickel and Balloon fucked up, but Nickel fucked up for a longer time. Balloon was actually changing, and Nickel did only take the protective stance when this was happening. Which like, Nickel was right on that. He had his reasons to NOT trust Balloon. The problem is that he couldn't accept that Balloon was changing, and that he wasn't realizing that his actions were hurting both BB and Suitcase.

What I think that people don't get, or what hurts me the most, is the fact that Nickel is in denial. But it's merely the fact that when he hears Suitcase's voice, he doesn't get angry or mad, or even panics, no.

He's just... shocked.

What are you supposed to tell someone who went through hell, thanks to you, even if you tried to protect her from whom you thought was bad? What are you supposed to tell the friend who you tried to protect and instead hurted them in awful ways?

What are you even supposed to do in that situation?

It's not only that, but the fact that he didn't even think twice when walking towards her, didn't even question if she was truly Suitcase. Like, he immediately went on and tried to explain himself to her-

He completely forgot about everything because he wanted to talk to her and, I do think that he feels guilty for what he did, but he can't put it to words/can't understand it completely after all- but his first instict after seeing Suitcase is to talk to her about it.

He wants to explain himself to her- maybe even apologize, but he doesn't know how.

The thing is that Nickel is smart. With logical stuff, not feelings, according to Adam himself. And that fucks it all up for him.

Nickel can't handle change.

Suitcase can understand change.

Balloon is always changing.

And BaseBall can't keep up with it.

And that shows it here.

Nickel is a complicated character. Guilt is eating him constantly but he lacks emotional intelligence. He can accept that stuff went wrong, but seem doesn't understand what or why they did go wrong.

He regrets what he did to Suitcase most likely judging from his behaviour the mere second he saw her, but he can't tell why exactly. Same thing as Nickel probably realizing that he keeps on messing up the more he clings into that mentality. He tries to move on from the past, but he can't. He even says it. There's no way to make things feel better as of now, so that's why he pretends.

But there is a way.

He just... needs to talk it out with Suitcase and Balloon.

That being said, thank you for reading this.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Hopping off that last post slightly to say that I also think a good part of the reason Joe can afford to still feel everything so intensely is because of Nicky. Not just because of the obvious part where they are both sickeningly in love and have been for thousands of years without ever feeling it any less, but also because I think Nicky built a dynamic with him that allows Joe to stay so passionate

(There's more than just that, obviously, such as the fact that the group NEEDS someone like Joe, who isn't jaded or cool headed, but I already talked about that on the other post)

Nicky is the ice. That's a fact. He's not cold as in unfeeling but he is extremely cool headed. The greatest example of that, in my opinion, is the way he treats Booker after his betrayal: while Joe rages and screams at him, Nicky just tells him to leave it. You'd think that he isn't mad, but in the end, Nicky is the only one who doesn't say goodbye to Booker. Nile talks to him at the bar. Andy tells him about his punishment and hugs him. Even Joe looks back and gives him a nod, despite his anger. Nicky doesn't acknowledge him. I don't think he looks at him or talks to him once after they learn about the betrayal. He isn't telling Joe to leave it because he isn't pissed; he is saying it because now is not the time and they need to focus on getting out of the lab. Rationality first, feelings later. The goal always comes first to Nicky. He's a sniper, he's calculating, he's steady. It's the main mark of his character, in my opinion

So, he provides the steadiness that Joe needs, which allows Joe to not become quite as steady himself

I see that in pretty objective, practical ways - their dynamic in battle being the most obvious example. I am once again bringing up the battle outfits; Joe is more focused on his damn baseball cap than on packing his weapons. He puts his scimitar on his back (completely impractical) and then also tries to carry a bag slung over one shoulder (that keeps bumping into the scimitar and going back and he needs to keep readjusting it in a never ending battle with his own setup). He has like one gun on him. Meanwhile Nicky is Weapons Georg-ing his way through the desert like nobody's business. And then we see that half of these weapons are meant for Joe. Nicky is so attuned that he knows instinctively when Joe has ran out of bullets and he passes him guns without either of them even needing to look at each other, much less say anything; it's completely obvious that this is something they have been doing for centuries, that it comes naturally to them. If Nicky weren't there to give Joe weapons, Joe would have to have an ounce of practicality and keep his love for the vibes at bay long enough to pack efficiently. But Nicky IS there, and so Joe can afford to be the dorky, somewhat carefree man that Nicky adores, and bring some levity as they are heading to their mission (his cocky, teasing little smile as they are in the helicopter, for example)

If Nicky weren't there to stay between Joe and the door, if Nicky didn't sleep with a gun in his hand, then Joe would have to. But he does, so Joe doesn't, which allows him to dream peacefully and without worrying too much about whatever nonsense might be heading their way. I could keep going, but you get the picture: Joe would have had to keep more of a lid on his feelings if Nicky weren't there to take care of the practical problems that demand a cooler head

(And just to be extra clear, by that I don't mean that Joe is a Hotheaded Angry Brown Man and Nicky is The Voice Of Reason. I mean that Joe is a romantic and an artist, someone who's very in touch with his feelings and open about feeling them, which makes him uniquely vulnerable in their line of work. And that Nicky, knowing that, covers his blind spots)

And Joe, in turn, covers Nicky's blind spots as well, of course. He's the one (quite literally) holding Nicky together, making sure he doesn't let that overly rational head of his get the better of him and bury his feelings too far. Where Nicky hands Joe weapons, Joe finishes off Nicky's kills; most of the time, when they're fighting together, it's Nicky incapacitating people and then throwing them over his shoulder so Joe can kill them. That always stood out to me, because we know that none of them like killing; I think this is Joe's way of shouldering that weight for Nicky, making sure he has less to worry about and feel bad for, too

I used to think that Joe was the emotional protector and Nicky was the physical protector because of that (like, obviously both do both, but this was the role they took most prevalently). But the more I think about it, the more I realize that Nicky is also protecting Joe's feelings; because Joe doesn't have to grow more jaded and cool and rational if Nicky can do that for him. So he can continue to be who he is - light, passionate, loving, intense, open, vulnerable - because Nicky's got his back. It's my personal headcanon that Nicky has vowed to himself that he'd do everything in his power to keep Joe from losing that spark in him, and he's making good on that promise

It's a very interestingly equal relationship, where they not only balance each other out, but in doing so, allow the other to remain who they are, because that stark difference is part of what they love about each other

[uva124]

WOAHHHHHHH OC DUMP OC DUMP OC DUMP TELL US ABOUT YOUR OC PLEASE

@wings-of-sapphire, I don't think you understand the monster you just summoned with your question (I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YEARS FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ABOUT MY OC AND I WON'T LET THIS OPPORTUNITY PASS)

CoughCough Of course I'll tell you about my oc ( the others oc too because I want to introduce you to all my children, if this is going to be long)

LET'S START!!!

These are my main ocs! (One is missing, but when I drew this I didn't have the space lol)

I have to tell you that I created most of these ocs when I was just starting to draw, don't you believe me? *throws some of my old drawings in your face*

Sorry @emillyverse, none of them have names yet, I'm a terrible creator lmao

OC 1! 🌻

She is the oldest of all, she went through MANY changes in her desing, but I leave you some information about her:

-Pronouns: she/her

-Interests:Science and botany

-Personality: Shy, somewhat serious at first glance (She is actually very cool), insecure in some cases other than science or gardening

At first I thought of making her as a forest guardian, but I wasn't convinced and now she's a normal girl lmao

OC 2! 💜

She is the second one I create (she is the one with long straight hair in my old drawings) her creation story is a little funny, because it came from a mod that I designed for fnf LMAO

I really liked FNF, and seeing how the fandom created their own mods with their own characters encouraged me to create my own oc, obviously I never created a mod for the game, but it was fun desing it for myselfed.

(That's how it was in the beginning)

I wanted to make her look more human and the result was what she currently

-Pronouns: she/her

-Interests: Mechanics and reading.

-Personality: She may seem calm at first, but she is actually very energetic and cheerful! but she shows that part of her with her closest friends ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

And as a curious fact, THE GIRLS ARE A COUPLE :D!!!!

They dynamic is literally moon x Sun, only their color palettes appear to be the complete opposite, I quite like giving these types of twists.

Also, I like the idea of they ​​meeting each other in a bookstore or a flower shop!

(I'm dusting off my sketchbooks from a few years ago to make this blog, but I have to admit that I still like this drawing even though I did it like 1 and a half years ago)

OC 3!🎶

I would summarize his personality as someone very relaxed and calm, but that doesn't mean that he is a joker and sarcastic from time to time (especially with the oc that I showed a few moments ago, because they are cousins ​​but consider themselves like brothers)

-Interests: Music and basketball

OC 4!🩷

I don't usually draw her much, but I love her and draw her from time to time, her personality is to be somewhat serious and sarcastic (similar to KOW! Gabo's personality I think)

-Interests: Baseball and fashion

I'm probably going to reblog this post, but for now these are the main ones that I have created among MANY OCs that I have designed

[justanotherfanwriter]

and they were ROOMmates

Cht list: (1) (2) (3) (4)

a/n: this one took me awhile, but hopefully, you can see Soul's other points of stress!

fyi I put this story on ao3 (as requested), so don’t forget to leave a comment or kudos (if you want lol). I’ll continue to update on tumblr as well!

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The bus jolted Soul awake. Its brakes squealed as it came to a halt, and his head bounced against the bus window. He hissed in pain and scrambled for the package the sudden stop had knocked off his lap. When the package was back in its proper place, he rubbed at his head, poking around the still-tender flesh. 

“Shit,” He cursed, flinching away from his hand when it grazed against the goose egg that was beginning to form. The woman caddy corner to him, cradling a sleeping toddler, glared, which he returned, though he hardly believed she could tell. He was moving around Death City incognito with oversized sunglasses, a baseball cap, and his hoodie with the hood up. 

It was a cakewalk going to the post office as an oddly dressed stranger compared to going as the Last Death Scythe. He couldn’t make it two blocks down the street without being stopped if it weren’t for the sunglasses, never mind the setting sun. 

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the bus. Even for a weapon, it wasn’t a bright idea, but as Maka had guessed, the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him. Being a weapon obsessive over protecting his meister was easier said than mentally done. He sighed and gently placed his head back against the window, relying on the bus to keep him jostled awake.

There was some shifting as the group from the back of the bus got off, and a new group got on. He watched the departing group’s reflections as they walked past. Each was sporting DWMA memorabilia, but he couldn’t recognize any of their faces, so he assumed they were a few years younger than him. Of course, that didn’t mean they didn’t know him, and because of that likely possibility, he was glad they hadn’t seen through his poorly-made disguise. 

When things settled back down on the bus, he turned his attention out the window and blankly stared past his reflection. They were near the school but closer to the airport. He didn’t come to this side of the city as often as he once had and was only there now because Maka had accidentally sent her package to their old PO box. The ride from the DWMA clinic where Maka was staying to their old post office wasn’t a bad commute, but because it was in the opposite direction of their new apartment, he still had fifteen or twenty-ish minutes until he made it home.  

He let out a deep breath, temporarily fogging the window. Mentally, he counted how many stop he had left until he got off, and then couldn’t stop himself from counting down how many stops were left between here and their old apartment.  

DWMA’s independent student-living complexes weren’t glorious by any means, but it hadn’t been bad. Like sure, the air-conditioning busted on the days it was most inconvenient, and there was a minor bug problem, but when he thought of his childhood home, he didn’t think of the estate in Maine, but the two-bedroom, one bathroom mold-infested hellscape he had lived in with Maka. 

He missed that apartment. 

A lot. 

They had moved out of their old apartment the moment he turned eighteen and could legally sign a lease off of DWMA property. They had left for no other reason besides the fact he had become too famous to stay there, especially with the amount of bright-eyed, bushy-tailed underclassmen wandering around this part of Death City that wanted nothing more than to meet the great, stupendous Last Death Scythe in all his freaky albino glory. 

It wasn’t just the underclassmen, though, that wasn’t fair to the underclassmen—sorry, underclassmen—because the upperclassmen would sneak by too, but they, at least, tried being cool about it. Still, some piece of shit had ruined it for everyone and leaked their apartment address to the general public, completely destroying the low-key vibe. They tried their best to stay in the apartment, but after Maka had thrown away the third pile of used underwear from a “NO RETURN” sender, she had declared it was time they thought about moving out. 

“Unless,” She had paused drying the dishes, looking at him almost shyly, “I mean, unless you want to live by yourself. We’re graduating soon, after all. There’s no reason we have to stay roommates. I can—” an uncomfortable look had crossed her face, and she swallowed past her discomfort, “—move back in with my papa, you know until I’m old enough to sign a lease somewhere.” 

He could clearly remember the way he had stared at her, taking in the brave look on her face and considering, for the first time since they had moved in together, living alone. He had almost laughed at her. Maybe when he was thirteen, and she was twelve, yelling at him about leaving the toilet seat up, he had longingly thought about his own apartment without any roommates breathing down his neck, but now, he couldn’t imagine a life without Maka’s daily lectures. 

And besides, he had asked, “Is that, like, even possible? Do I even make that much money now?” 

Clear annoyance had pulsed through her features as she gritted out for the umpteenth time, “Soul, please, you have to start paying attention to your finances.” 

“But then, what would you bitch about?” He had asked her through a toothy smile, “You know, besides the laundry, and the cleaning, and the cooking, and the—” 

“—I’m not helping you anymore!” She had snapped, throwing the dish towel at his head, “Your money! Your checkbook! Your problem!” 

She had stomped away to the sound of his cackling, and neither of them brought up the idea of living apart again. They had simply moved to another apartment together. Maka, of course, had taken care of everything, and he, of course, bitched about the thousands of cumbersome books he had to move while she stood around, clipboard in hand, nagging him and all the other poor suckers she had roped into helping them move. 

Their new apartment complex was farther away from the school and, thus, the main part of the bustling city. They lived closer to the outskirts where the townies lived, where Death Children, like Maka, were raised. The people there wouldn’t have given two shits if he were the Death Lord himself. Death Children had seen plenty of Death Scythes come and go that Soul didn’t bother with the shitty disguises he wore everywhere else if he wanted a normal outing. In fact, the only person who seemed to care about them at all was Mrs. Ranger from across the hall, who hated Blair (human form) with a passion but loved Blair (cat form) like no other. 

He readjusted his baseball cap down his eyes and nestled further into his seat, groaning at the thought of Blair. She had probably caused more trouble than she was worth while they were gone, and now, he’d have to deal with it. Alone. Just uncool. 

“Hey, hey—” Someone belched, and Soul dragged his gaze away from the window to look back toward the bus aisle.

“Yes?” He bit back actual tears as the drunk guy, who was supposed to be sitting four seats behind him, leered down at him. Why couldn’t anyone leave him alone? 

“’ Ey, do I, uh, I know you, right?” The man asked around another burp. 

And, Lord Death, how many times would he be asked that today while he was just trying to exist in fucking peace? 

“No. You don’t,” Soul lied, pushing his sunglasses back up his nose. 

“Are you—are you sure?” 

“Pretty sure, man.” He turned to look back out the window, but the guy persisted.

“Nah,” He said, sitting down, “I know youse. Uh, shit—” Another burp, paired with a hiccup, “—got a package, huh?” 

“I do.” He glowered at his reflection, flipping the package label down so it wouldn’t give him away. 

The drunk hiccupped, blinking rapidly as he stared at him. He pursed his lips in thought before his face lit up in recognition. Obnoxiously, he snapped his fingers and then jabbed one in Soul’s face, “Youse look exactly like that guy!” 

“I don’t know you,” Soul repeated, knocking the drunk’s hand away just like he had knocked away Marc’s not even two hours before. Seriously, did manners mean nothing anymore?

Unbothered, the guy continued smiling. He looked five seconds away from passing out or throwing up, and Soul didn’t want to be involved either way. “Yeah, but youse—” the drunk man yawned and shook his head to keep himself awake, “—youse look like that guy, ya know, he, uh, he’s that, um, guy!” 

“Nope.” Soul shook his head, tempted to jump out of the moving bus just to get away, but with rush hour traffic in Death City, his odds of survival didn’t look good.

Seconds ticked by without a peep from the drunk, and for a beautiful, wonderous second Soul thought maybe the interrogation was over. He chanced a quick look at the drunk just in time to watch the man slump forward as he passed out. In that instant, the bus hit a bump, and the guy’s head lulled to the side, landing on Soul’s shoulder. A snore erupted from the man and a wave of bad breath and booze crashed over him. He pulled a face and followed his gut reaction, shoving the man away.

Unfortunately, this woke him up. 

The drunk shot up with a clap, evidently proud of himself, and bellowed, “The Last Death Scythe! That’s who!”  

Soul froze for half a second, then shook his head, “Never heard of ‘im.” 

“You don’t know who that is!” Some rando behind them cried, sticking his head between the seats. His eyes were rimmed red, and he smelt like weed. It pissed Soul off, but mostly out of jealousy. “You a tourist or sumthin’?” 

“No.” He seethed, slouching further down his seat.

“You’re not a tourist, and you ain’t ever heard of the Last fucking Scythe?” The high man was flabbergasted, hitting the drunk man on the shoulder, “I don’t believe it! Do you believe it?” 

“I do’not fuckin’ believe it!” The drunk man agreed enthusiastically, jolting up and confused but happy to be included. Out of the corner of Soul’s eye, he watched the lady with the toddler shoot the three of them a dirty look, and again, he glared back. Obviously, she also had an issue with him.  

“Well, do.” He sneered, returning his attention to the men, but they both ignored him; the high guy was sputtering his continued disbelief, and the drunk man was wiping drool from his mouth.

“Don’t he look like him? The Last Death Scythe?” The drunk man slurred, asking the high man, who, in turn, said to Soul, “You don’t gotta be embarrassed about being a tourist. I know all the good spots, ya know. I run a little tour business; a bit of a side hustle, you understand. I can give you a discount, and show you around. For just a small fee, I can have you running around this City like an authentic Death Child. We’ll check out the school!”

“I’m not—” Soul paused and gave the guy a dry look, “—the school? You’re leading with the school? Everyone knows the school. That can’t be your first suggestion.” 

“What’s wrong with the school?” The high man gave him a dirty look.

“You can’t just say you know all the good spots and name the one spot everyone knows!” 

“What would you know? You ain’t fuckin’ from here!” The man bristled, and the drunk man followed suit, acting as a useless echo, “Yeah, you ain’t fuckin’ from here!” 

“I live here. I work here.”

“And what do you do?” The high man leaned forward.

Soul gritted his teeth, “What does it matter? 

They went back and forth like this, their argument getting progressively more aggressive the nearer they got to Soul’s stop. He let out an annoyed groan, rubbing a hand down his face as he, again, shoved the drunk guy’s sleeping head off his shoulder. 

“Listen, buddy,” He addressed the high guy for the umpteenth time, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this. I’m not a tourist. I’m not interested in your tour program. I’m just trying to get home, so get off my dick about it.” 

“If you ain’t a tourist, you shouldn’t have a problem confirming where you work.” The high guy countered. 

“Fine!” Soul rolled his eyes, pushing the drunk guy away again, “I’m an agent working for DWMA.” 

The high man fell quiet, and for one foolish moment, Soul believed he’d stay silent, but as soon as he had thought it, the man began laughing loud enough to wake up both the sleeping toddler and the drunk man. While the drunk man snorted awake and started laughing as if he had been cognitive throughout the whole conversation and not drooling down Soul’s shirt, the toddler began to scream, just like Soul wanted to. 

“But you don’t know the Last Scythe,” the high man (impressively) cackled over the screaming, “fuck off, kid. Just admit it, you’re a tourist.”  

“Excuse me,” The lady with the now-not-sleeping toddler snapped, “could you three stop with the cursing? There are children on board.” 

“Lady,” Soul snapped back, already pissed off and matching her energy, “you’re the one who brought a kid on a public bus, okay. We’re not the problem here.”

“Can you believe this kid?” The high man asked the lady, “A tourist thinks he knows more than us!” 

“I’m not a tourist!” 

“You’re certainly acting like one! So loud and rude! This whole ride!” The lady turned her nose up into the air, and Soul gasped, affronted and offended.  

“Does it really sound like I want any of this conversation to be happening?” His voice was a touch bit hysterical, “How is this my fault? I was just sitting here. This is so stup—I-I am not a tourist! I work for DWMA. I went to the school! I don’t need advice!” 

“Then you’re a liar.” The lady sneered, “And that’s worse than a tourist.” 

“And now I’m a liar.” He threw his hands up in disbelief, “How am I suddenly a liar?”  

“You work for DWMA and don’t know who the Last Death Scythe is? He saved the world! You should do better to know your superiors.” The woman tsked, and he covered his face with his hands, muffling something akin to a high-pitched scream. More people on the bus were chiming in now, accusing him of lying, causing a scene, and thievery, for some fuck up reason, and slowly the world around him began to spiral out of control.

Like the concerts he performed when he was a child, all the attention quickly became suffocating, and the noise amplified in his head, a constant drumming beat behind his eyes. His lungs began to constrict, his vision started to tunnel, and just as he began to panic about spiraling into madness—with Marc and Kid’s bullets still on his mind—to his relief, he felt the bus decelerating as it came to its next stop. 

“Fine! Fine! You wanna know why I don’t know him?” In one fluid motion, he shot up and threw off his cap and sunglasses, “Because I am him! See,” He motioned to his face, “not a fucking tourist!” 

He gathered his duffel bag and package before jumping over the drunk guy. Heat continued to prickle the back of his neck, and he hardly paid attention to the group’s faces as he yelled, “I’m not a liar! So, fuck you, fuck you,” He flicked off the high guy and the drunk guy, then the lady, “fuck you,” and after tucking Maka’s package underneath his arm, he double flicked off the crying toddler, “and double fuck you!” 

He turned down the aisle before anyone could say anything else. 

“Fucking bus,” He grumbled, bounding off the steps and pushing through the crowd. 

“Holy shit, is that the Last Scythe?” He overheard one person say, and there were a few other shouts of recognition as he elbowed his way to a more secluded side street. Once there, his actions caught up with him, and he immediately regretted tossing his glasses and hat to the side. Hunkering into the hood of his hoodie, he walked the remaining few blocks to safer territory with his head down. 

He cringed at his supreme idiocy as he thought about the baby he double-flipped off and kicked a can against an ally wall

“That’s gonna bite me in the ass,” he predicted out loud, sucking his teeth. Karma never not bit him in the ass. 

Given the substantial detour he had been forced to take, he got back to their apartment way later than expected. The heat of the day had lingered well into the evening, and by the time he bounded up the eight flights of stairs to his apartment—because, of course, the elevator was out—with all their shit still cradled in his arms, he had sweat pouring down his temples. Fucking Nevada, right?

He was hot, sweaty, tired, and felt guilty about everything under the sun, and all he wanted was to make it without another bad thing happening, but just as he had predicted, karma, of course, came walking around the corner. 

“Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me,” Soul chanted under his breath, breaking into an awkward half-run-half-walk toward his and Maka’s apartment door. 

“Soul!” 

He froze, glaring at his doorknob like it had murdered his family before plastering on a fake, toothy grin. 

“Hi, Mrs. Ranger,” He gritted out through his teeth, “how are you?” 

Mrs. Ranger wasn’t a tiny, frail old woman. The seventy-something had a spunk in her that wouldn’t die. She wore bright red-rimmed glasses that enlarged her eyes to a comical degree, always wore a shawl or scarf in the same uppity fashion, and, worst of all, was the biggest busy-body he had ever met, and one of his best friends was Liz Thompson. 

“Not well!” She snapped at him. 

Go figure, he thought as he said, “That’s too bad.” 

“Your wretched cat-sitter was back again!”  

That checked out too. Fucking Blair. 

“That does happen when we leave,” He remarked, fumbling with his door keys as he balanced Maka’s package and their duffle bag in his other arm. 

“I don’t know why you two insist on hiring her. I’d be more than happy to watch Blair for you while you’re gone instead of having that—that—” Mrs. Ranger’s cheeks tinted red with anger, “floozy coming around, making noise, talking to my Jeffery. I had half a mind to call the police on her, Soul, half a mind. Now, I respect Maka and you more than that, but still something has to be done,” She continued to screech. “Someone has to do something! So, I’ve talked to the Board. I’ve done it. I’ve had enough! Something must be done. Must be!” 

He swallowed a broken sigh. Jeffery Ranger was quite the opposite of his wife. Mr. Ranger hated Blair (cat form) but loved Blair (human form). He and Maka had told Blair hundreds of times to avoid their older neighbors, but each Ranger was a horrible enabler to the side of Blair they preferred. Mrs. Ranger left out treats and toys, and warm milk. Mr. Ranger—well, quite frankly, Soul did not want to know what Mr. Ranger got up to with Blair in her human form, but at least he didn’t kick her while she was in her cat form, which Soul was sure Mrs. Ranger would do one day while Blair was in her human form. 

Gah.  

“Mrs. Ranger, Blair’s a—” 

“I don’t want to hear it!” The woman cried, cutting him off like she always did when they tried to explain what Blair was. “I think it’s admirable that you want to help that poor girl. She needs all the help she can get, but there are certain standards we abide by in this building.”

She thrust an envelope into his crowded hands, “You’re being summoned by the Board. I’m sorry it’s come to this, but her type is truly not welcomed here any longer.” 

He gawked at the red slip, “B-but, wait, we—we pay the pet fee!” 

“And we all love Blair,” Mrs. Ranger announced as she crossed the hall, “but the cat sitter has to go.” 

With a dramatic flourish, she yanked open and slammed her door shut, making him flinch. 

“Jeffery!” He heard her scream, “Jeffery! I’ve done it! It’s over, Jeffery, it. Is. Over.” 

“For fuck sake,” He spoke under his breath, staring at the incriminating red-letter envelope. He didn’t know whether he was annoyed or offended on his and Maka’s or Blair’s behalf. Death City was progressive, but sex workers still got the shit end of the stick. Of course, they had repeatedly warned Blair not to mess with the Rangers, but still. 

“For fuck sake,” He growled again, crumpling the envelope before turning to their door. Just another damn problem to solve! 

He ignored the happy little ‘Welcome!’ sign and started fumbling with his keys again. After dropping them twice, he threw open the door. When he was finally inside, he let out a puff of air, closing the door with his back and leaning against it. The pleasant thrum of their air conditioning met him like a caress, and he sighed again, relaxing further, pushing “out there” farther and farther away from the forefront of his mind.

He dropped their duffel bag unceremoniously off his shoulder and onto the floor, stepping into the living room before pausing. A flash of guilt filled him as he looked back at the limp bag, which had probably endured more hardship this past weekend than all of them combined, and yet, here he was, tossing it to the side like it had done nothing for them at all. 

He groaned and shuffled back to the bag, berating himself for personifying a thing, but hey, he was a part inanimate object on his mother’s side; for all he knew, he could have just tossed his cousin.  

“Oy-vey,” He muttered to himself, scooping up the bag and laying it down more carefully than necessary onto the couch along with the package and the letter. “Soul, for fuck sake, you’re losing it.” He stepped away from the sofa and continued to talk to himself, “Sides, I’d be more related to a butter knife than a bag anyway.” 

Fathers hide your daughters, he snorted; a Death Scythe and a comedian.

He stood straight, cracking his back before calling, “Blair! You little shit! Are you home?” When he got no answer, he scowled, “Blair, get out here now. You can’t hide! You’re in deep shit!” 

He pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of the package, and sent it to Maka.

Got the package, he texted her and debated mentioning Mrs. Ranger and the Board summons. Before he could decide, she texted back, You’re the best <3 I owe you

Something warm flooded his guts, and he bit the inside of his cheek before responding, duh. Wha’s in this thing anyway its heavy as hell?

She didn’t text back immediately, so he picked up the duffle bag and walked through the apartment, checking each room and all of Blair’s hiding spots.  

“Blair!” He called, looking for her, but she was nowhere to be found. She wasn’t in his closet, curled up on one of Maka’s pillows, or in the bathtub. After circling the living room and the bedrooms, he dropped the duffle bag on top of the laundry machine and went to the kitchen. There on the counter was a handwritten note.

His phone buzzed. 

Don’t worry about it, Maka answered him.

He groaned and rolled his eyes, Maka fr. It better not be more books. We don’t have any more room. The PANTRY has books in it.

I said don’t worry about it, didn’t I?

Your ridiculous. 

And *you’re worrying about something I literally said not to worry about. 

He shook his head and shoved his phone back in his pocket, turning to the mysterious letter on the counter. Purple glittery ink, screaming of Blair, stared back at him. 

Kitten, the letter began,

Mama’s with her other kitten! Blair switched shifts with Lay-Lay, so she could make sure Maka-baby has all the extra purrs she needs to feel better! But don’t worry~ Mama left you something yummy in the fridge! <3 <3 <3 Blair will see you soon! Sleep tight! 

Love,

Bu-tan, nya~ 

P.S.xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooooooxxxxxxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxxxxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxxxxxxxxxxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooooooxxxxxxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxxxxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Soul quickly flipped through the next three pages of Blair’s note, which were all filled with the same sequence of X’s and O’s, so he tossed the rest of the packet to the side and stared at the fridge with deep suspicion. Anything could have been in that box; if it was like last time, he wasn’t looking forward to it. 

He pulled out his phone and shot a warning text to Maka, FYI Blair Incoming. 

Her response back was almost immediate, She’s already here. 

As evidence, a photo quickly followed suit, depicting Blair cuddling Kid. He snorted, Better him than me.

Next, he cropped the picture so it was just Kid’s face. His eyes were wide and embarrassed, shit, is that the Gay Panic Liz is always talking about???

Maka sent three laughing emojis, shut up it still hurts to laugh. You should have seen how fast he booked it out of here. 

What’d Black*Star do?

Oblivious, as always. 

shame. 

Truly.

He placed his phone down, squared his shoulders, and turned to the fridge. He took a deep breath and counted to three before yanking the door open. He jumped backward, ready for anything to pop out, but what awaited him were four dead mice lined up in a row right in front of the milk, all in various states of decay. 

“Better than last time,” He mumbled, reaching for the plastic gloves Maka kept on the counter as he recalled the (very much still alive) python Blair had once dragged home. Still, the fridge would need to be wiped down. He glanced at the clock and tried to figure out how much time he had until Spirit bludgeoned down the door. 

“Better safe than sorry,” He shrugged, letting the fridge close and making a mental note to come back later. 

He circled back to the laundry room, dumped their dirty clothes in the wash, and pulled out her toiletries. He took those and the package to her room and looked around for another overnight bag, or at least something cleaner than the duffle. He found what he was looking for stored in her closet, and while there, pulled out two days’ worth of comfortable clothing, stuff he knew she could sleep and walk around in without feeling “silly in public.” 

He folded the oversized shirts and shorts, and then, popped into her attached bathroom. He had let Maka have the primary suite, and he used the bathroom in the hall. The separate bathrooms were meant to minimize their morning arguments, but it didn’t appear to matter because there was the pile of his headbands that she was hoarding next to her sink. He rolled his eyes and tossed two in, along with her hair bonnets. He skipped over her books, found an extra charger, and packed her a box of her favorite tea and a few protein bars to tide her over until he could locate some real food. 

Next, he stopped in his room to grab a sweater from his dresser. He almost tossed it in the bag, but thought twice and held onto it, debating if it was a good idea. It was only a regular black sweater with the school emblem on the chest pocket. While Maka always insisted she didn’t steal his clothes, he had caught her one too many times to believe it and knew she liked this one. Most everyone at DWMA had some variation of the same article of clothing, so if someone saw her wearing it, they likely wouldn’t think anything of it. But what if they did think it was his? What would they think of him giving it to her? Was it odd or desperate? Did it prove some disloyalty to Kid?

He huffed, shaking his head, and stuffed the sweater into the bag—other people be damned.  Maka liked wearing his sweaters because she liked wearing sweaters, nothing more to it. It meant nothing at all. Not to her. Not to him. Not to anyone.

And if wearing his sweater brought her some comfort, or made her feel safe, or—

“Stop.” He commanded himself, zipping up the bag.

He couldn’t think of much else to pack but tucked in her headphones just in case and tossed the bag onto the couch. The very moment his ass touched the sofa, there was a knock at the door. 

He groaned as he stood up.

Spirit Incoming, came Maka’s warning text. 

Already here. 

The knocking increased in volume the longer he took to get to the door, and his mood soured even more. 

Ugh. Stall him, please, Maka responded. 

“Hello, Spirit.” He deadpanned, opening the door. Spirit didn’t stop knocking until it was completely open, and when he did stop, he glared at him. They were now the same height, so if Spirit’s glare was ever intimidating, it was now completely lost on Soul.  

Spirit stuck out a hand, “What took so long? You know Maka’s waiting! Give me her things!” 

Soul turned away from Spirit’s outstretched hands, letting the door fall wide open, “Her shit’s in here, old man. Calm down.” 

“Old man!” Spirit sneered, stepping into their apartment after him. 

“I was just getting all her stuff together,” He sighed, ignoring the way Spirit was practically breathing down his neck, “it’s right here on the—” 

He reached for her bag, but Spirit snatched it up before his fingertips could even graze its handles. Soul felt a vein pop in his forehead, but he gritted his teeth and bared it. Spirit was Spirt, and their relationship had always been strained. 

But, hey, it took two to tango.

“I’ll take that!” Spirit announced, clutching the bag to his chest, “I need to see if you actually packed useful things—” He unzipped the bag and began to root around it while he lectured, “—my daughter’s very particular, and she only gets the best, especially when she’s hurt. You know, she shouldn’t have even gotten hurt in the first place! What a useless weapon you are, by the way. You’re supposed to protect her! If she just let her papa take care of her, this wouldn’t have—” 

Spirit stopped short. Slowly, he raised a garment from the bag, revealing one of Maka’s compression shorts. Soul’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before Spirit could even say anything.

Here it comes, he thought; here comes the drama. 

“What, Spirit?” He sighed, crossing his arms and leveling the older man with a look, “It wasn’t like I was going to let her go without underwear.”

“You went through my daughter’s delicates?” Spirit asked through gritted teeth, letting his voice fall into a whisper at the mere mention of her “delicates.” 

“No.” He disagreed, “I went into her dresser and pulled out underwear.” 

“Who gave you permission to do that?” 

“Maka.” 

“No.” 

“Oh brother,” He muttered, then said, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. We live together. We do laundry together.” He rubbed at his face, exhausted, “Anyway, sorry, but Maka’s boy underwear doesn’t do anything for me, Spirit, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

Admittedly, he added that last part to piss off Spirit, but it was true. It wasn’t like he was rooting around in Maka’s underwear draw for fun. If Maka even had sexier underwear, he wasn’t privy to it. 

“This isn’t boy underwear!” Spirit shook the compression shorts in his face, “You’re saying this doesn’t do it for you? What kind of guy are you, huh! My Maka isn’t good enough for you? I don’t believe your lies. Where’s Blair! She should have packed her underwear. I know she’s not working tonight!”

“Are you keeping tabs on our cat?” He drawled, but the accusation didn’t faze the pervert. 

“Blair!” Spirit called out, turning in circles, still flapping Maka’s underwear around, “Blair! Where are you!” 

Soul massaged the bridge of his nose, “She switched her shifts, Spirit. She wanted to make sure she had time to see Maka. I think she’s planning on staying the—” He paused and cursed, “—shit, hang on, I forgot Mak’s sleeping mask.” 

“You forgot!” Spirit chided, “See! This is exactly what I’m talking about. She needs someone more dependable.” 

“You’re the expert,” He mumbled under his breath, slipping down the hall to her room. 

Spirit followed after him, “What was that?” 

“Nothing,” He sighed, nudging her door open. Spirit didn’t follow him inside. He stopped at the threshold of her room, going still and quiet, as Soul rooted around her bed in search of her sleeping mask.

The sudden change in Spirit’s behavior wasn’t as odd as one would believe. Of course, it had nothing to do with any sudden appreciation for personal space, but instead, everything to do with the constant fragile state of his and Maka’s relationship.

Soul stole a look at Spirit’s reflection in Maka’s mirror, and he seemed to be taking in the entirety of her bedroom in an awe-like state. It was likely the first time in years Spirit had seen the inside of his daughter’s room, filled to the brim with potted plants, books, and hundreds of to-do lists, calendars, and agendas. It was cluttered, but it was Maka’s, so at the same time, it was all very organized. 

This was the deepest Spirit had ever gotten in either of their apartments. Usually, Maka didn’t let him get any further than the living room or the kitchen. Soul was fine with this rule, but Spirit didn’t listen to him.

Out of some strange pity for Spirit—even if he didn’t deserve it—Soul took his time finding the sleeping mask, purposefully letting him soak it all up. It wasn’t like he was a bad dad; he was just, well, Spirit—too desperate for her attention and prone to fucking up. Embarrassingly, they had this common whether Spirit knew it or not.

So, Soul gave him those extra few seconds before tossing over the mask, “Here it is.” 

Spirit caught it without looking, his eyes tracing the collage of pictures she had stuck in the frame of her mirror. On top, partially hidden by a picture of him, Maka, and Crona, but still visible if you knew what you were looking at, was a baby picture of her and Spirit. 

“About time,” Spirit ripped his gaze away from the picture, “you’ve held me up for so long, I bet she’s wondering where I’m at.” 

“Sure,” he rolled his eyes, ushering him down the hall, “tell her I’ll stop by tomorrow. If she needs anything, she knows to text me.”  

“No need,” Spirit squared his jaw, “I can get her anything she needs.” 

“Right-o, pops,” He mock saluted him, opening the door, “best of luck to ya.” 

Spirit glared, “Keep it.” 

He slammed the door shut on the heels of Spirit’s feet and flopped face-first onto the couch with a loud groan. When his body registered he was practically suffocating himself, he turned his head to the side and stared blankly at their tv. 

With another sigh, he pulled his phone out and quickly texted Maka, Spirit Incoming. 

Dammit Soul. You couldn’t keep him with you any longer? She replied five minutes later. 

Mak, I love you, but not that much.

BOOOOOO!

He snorted and rolled off the couch, the silence of the empty apartment suddenly too much to bear, and crawled his way to his turntable. 

After the week he had, he needed at least a month of musical therapy to unwind. He plugged in his headphones and started flipping through his vinyl. All of his regulars were there and accounted for and guaranteed to make him feel better, but why feel better when you could wallow and feel worse?

There was certainly nothing like being self-destructive to end an already shitty week.

He hopped up and made his way into his bedroom. Carefully hidden in the back of his closet, behind the mountain of clothes Blair seemingly nested in, was a box he didn’t break out often. Tonight, though, he yanked it out of its hiding spot and peeled back the flaps to reveal the variety of keepsakes he had taken with him when he first set out for DWMA. 

It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for since it was still right on top, just as he had left it before their work trip. The record cover was a sleek black, and on the front, in embellished font, was his mother’s first name. His father had composed this record as a twenty-fifth-anniversary present. There were twenty-five tracks—a two-record album to hold it all—and each song marked a year of their marriage. His father’s recording studio had only released a limited number of copies the same year Soul had left for DWMA, and despite it having been his father’s passion project for as long as he could remember, Soul hadn’t heard a single note of it. 

Of course, he had known about the release. It hadn’t been any secret. The music world had been buzzing for it, and despite what other people thought, he still kept tabs on his family. 

What could he say? He was a masochist. 

He had counted down the days before the album’s release, and then, on the day of release, he locked himself in his bedroom, cried his eyes out, and stress-ate two large pizzas by himself. He hadn’t gotten his hands on a copy of the record; he hadn’t wanted to, but the night before he and Maka were set to leave for their mission, Liz and Kilik had dragged him to the record store for a blow-out sale. 

He had found the album in the used section and couldn’t help feeling insulted. Objectively, Soul knew it was a good album; his father didn’t compose bad albums. His father’s limited-edition vinyl didn’t go for cheap, to say the least, so why anyone would want to resell it was beyond him. 

He had tried to ignore the record, purposefully picking up more albums than he could reasonably afford. Still, after he eyed some old guy examining his father’s music, he returned to the resell section, snatching up the vinyl before someone else could. Liz or Kilik hadn’t known any better, which wasn’t unexpected; he didn’t talk about his parents. 

“Hey, what’s that, Soul?” Liz had asked, “Jazz?” 

“Yeah,” He had shrugged, placing it carefully in his bag, “just replacing an old one that got ruined in the move.” 

Kilik had tsked, “I told Black*Star not to fuck with those boxes. He just doesn’t get it, man.” 

He felt bad letting Black*Star take the blame for a split second but figured the guy owed him one or two. 

“Eh, it’s whatever,” He had shrugged again, “you two hungry?” 

He had gotten home that night without looking at the album. He had shoved it directly into his keepsake box, hoping Maka or Blair wouldn’t notice anything wrong with him. He suspected Maka knew something was up by the way she kept staring at him, but he refused to acknowledge her stray looks. 

Despite buying the record, he had never actually planned on listening to it. He had only wanted to save it from that store and the old man, but Spirit had triggered something within him like he often did. How much Spirit cared about Maka despite her thinking otherwise made Soul think about his father, and he wondered if he hadn’t left for DWMA what their relationship would have been like now. 

“The piano ain’t got no wrong notes,” His father had always told him, quoting Thelonious Monk, who would have been his name’s sake—and in some ways still was—if not for his father putting his foot down. 

He could remember the conversation he and his father had about his name perfectly because it was during one of those rare instances his father had the time to help him with his piano scales. Soul had never expected his father to seek him out, but there he had been in all his musical glory, choosing to help him get out of some piano-related punishment his mother had ordered, instead of using his precious little free time to do something more productive.  

“I suggested Monk to go with Wes, but she’d only agree to Monk if your real name was Thelonious, and I wasn’t going to do that to ya, kid.” His father had explained one night, “Which was a shame; it was hard enough getting her to agree to Wes. You know what your mom thinks of jazz.” 

He had rolled his eyes because, of course, he knew. His mother’s heart had and always would belong to the classics for reasons beyond him. If everything had gone his mother’s way, his name would have been some horrendous mash-up of Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven. 

“Aw,” His father had winked and laughed, stretching his fingers across their grand piano, “she means well, you know that. You were a stubborn kid. You hardly kicked or moved when she was first pregnant with you, so she thought you were a goner. Completely gave up on names, no matter what I said. But the first time you heard jazz—” his father had run his fingers across the keys in a fast flourish, “—boom! It was like you had finally found your soul! She cried for weeks. You should have seen her.” His had father laughed again. It had sounded warm and fond. “I said, I told her, babydoll, it’s like they always say—” 

“—ya gotta have soul, Soul,” Soul snorted, finishing his father’s lamest joke as he gently placed the record on the turntable.

He turned it off before it reached his birthday. He wanted to hurt, but not that much.

[phoenixyfriend]

Ko-fi prompt from Becky:

I actually would love to hear where ticket/concession/merch money for concerts go. If someone has already asked about that, can you do something similar for a sports game of your choice?

Already got a request for concerts, but I can do the sports game!

So, let's go with... baseball. I've been to professional baseball games ('twas the Ducks), even if it's been a Very Long Time, so that's the one I have some perspective on. Who is in control of the money any given game (as in, who owns the stadium and the home team) varies by place and sport, so let's use the Mets and Citi Field as our example when we need a specific.

Mostly, this is because I'm in New York and so it's down to either them or the Yankees, and between the two... the Mets, through a wholly owned subsidiary, Queens Ballpark Company, are the ones that actually own their ballpark, which makes a few things easier and includes a Fun Fact about the naming. It also means that I can treat the team and the stadium as one singular entity instead of waffling over who gets to be the Main Character of this simulation. It's not exactly uncommon for teams to own their own stadiums, but it's not most of them.

(The Mets, btw, are owned in large part by a hedge fund manager. Like, 95% of the team stock is owned by this one guy. Why can't more sports be like the Packers and just belong to the city.)

In this case, I will be referring to the Forbes article on Citi Field's revenue for 2022 as a guide or framework, as they have an actual image of the financial report; they don't do much explaining of the actual data, though, so my part will be explaining the less-obvious things and doing some maths. A few other articles will also be cited as they come in useful.

I'll also note that the Mets are a very expensive team operating at a loss, but they still work for our purposes.

MONEY COMING IN:

Tickets, most obviously

To quote the wiki article on Major League Baseball:

"MLB is the second-wealthiest professional sport league by revenue after the National Football League (NFL). [...] MLB has the highest total season attendance of any sports league in the world; in 2018, it drew more than 69.6 million spectators."

I didn't know that until I started researching for this post, but it makes sense. After all, baseball is "the American pastime." The Forbes article cites average attendance of 33,000 per home game. The stadium seat about 41,900, so we're looking at roughly 79% attendance. This is fine, because attendance is not the only stream of revenue.

Advertising

If you have seen a professional sports game in the past however many years, you have seen that, depending on the type of court, they are plastered in advertising. Let's take a look at Citi Field:

(Image Source: MLB website)

The Forbes article states that the stadium makes about $48.5 million per year from advertising. About $28.5 million of that comes from the various 'temporary' and long-term ads, the Nikon and Geico and Toyota and Coca Cola, etc.

$20 million of it comes from one company. I'm going to quote Wikipedia again:

The naming rights were purchased by Citigroup, a New York financial services company, for $20 million annually.

This is not uncommon! ESPN has an article about it, and some standout examples are Bank of America Stadium, Coors Field, Delta Center, FedEx Field and FedEx Forum, General Motors Place, Gillette Stadium, Heinz Field, and the list just goes on. I'm not even sure if the list is up to date, because I'm seeing even more articles elsewhere with higher figures.

Concessions

The financial report that Forbes cites has $22mill in concessions. This is not entirely surprising. Going by this page, we're looking at... 84 home games in that 2022 season. Let's assume that 33,000 average cited earlier. That's 2,772,000 attendees over the course of the season. So, what, a little under $10 per attendance tick? Entirely plausible. A hot dog plus a soda is $15, so... that tracks.

Parking

Apparently parking is, collectively, about $13mill annually. That's... genuinely a little concerning to me, for uh. Reasons. Also parking is $40.

(A lot of people go to games via train, if anyone's interested.)

Luxury Suite Premiums

I had to google this one, but uh. Turns out those fancy private box seats are even fancier and more private than I thought, bringing in over $10 mill a year.

Other Revenue - Stadium, undefined

"Other Revenue" and "post season revenue" are not given any further information, but they're about $16.5 mill so. They're definitely doing their part? Wish we had more information.

One guess is that there are events in the vein of the Citi Field Spring Carnival that contribute to the revenue through either fees to the stadium (if this is a carnival that rents the parking lot) or concessions and tickets (if the stadium rents a carnival).

Other Revenue - to the team that is not direct operating income of the stadium itself

Not counting the "other revenue" section of the financial statement, the Forbes article tells us that:

National broadcasting deals with Fox, ESPN and TBS that pay over $60 million a year to every MLB team, as well as the local cable fee the Mets get from SNY, which is over $80 million a year.

That's another $140mill in addition to the $244mill that the financial report cites.

Merchandise - not direct stadium revenue.

Get your Mets hats here! And your jerseys! And your logo bats! And your commemorative plushies! And--

MONEY GOING OUT

Operations

This one's easy: you have to pay wages to your employees, from the players themselves to the food sellers to janitorial to security to field maintenance, etc. Also, you have to pay for utilities (those billboards and floodlights aren't cheap), product to sell (frozen hot dogs), supplementary materials for products you sell (plastic cups, paper for the ticket machines, bags for garbage cans, and so on), and repairs/maintenance for the stands themselves (can't imagine they get through a season with all 41,900 seats intact).

Player salaries (and a few others, like the coach) aren't actually included in stadium revenue, but since the stadium is owned by the team, we're bundling them together for the sake of this case.

Payment in Lieu of Taxes

So this is an interesting one, and while the Forbes article does touch on it, there's a bit more detail to the story.

Citi Field was built in 2009, and the process cost $850 million. Of that, $615 was public subsidies. A lot of this was municipal bonds, which the Mets have to pay back with interest for the lifetime of the park; those municipal bond repayments are an offset, and in return for paying tens of millions in municipal bond repayments each year (the 2022 report shows about $43.5 mill), Citi Field does not have to pay property taxes.

Wikipedia only cites property taxes, but the financial report doesn't include any other taxes, so I'll assume the only other taxes they're on the hook for are sales and payroll, which aren't displayed in the financial report.

Parking

Right, so, parking as a bundle is about $7.5 mill in expenses, which means that parking alone has a marginal profit of about 42.3%, given the earlier figure of $13mill in parking revenue. I'm not finding any solid information on where that money goes, but it seems very like that New York City's taxes on land use for parking is not included in the property tax exemption we discussed above, and that most of the $7.5 mill is in that regard.

Post Season Expenses

I'll be honest, they don't define this $1.8 mill, but given what is and isn't included in the other sections, I'm going to hazard a guess that this may be about upgrades (more than maintenance) or replacement of physical billboards that are also not included as regular maintenance but require a lot of manpower to get up and set if complicated enough.

General and Administrative

This is the other possible allocation of the utilities and related payments. This is also where back of house activities like accountants, lawyer fees, payroll clerks, facilities managers, and so on are bundled in. It's about $5.5 mill.

Publicity and Promotions

This one's easy, it's just marketing that doesn't fall into General Mets Things and is rather for home games specifically.

Depreciation and Amortization

Bit trickier, but you know how a car loses value the second you drive it off the lot? That is depreciation. You paid $20,000 for a car, but two years later it's worth $16,000; on a financial report, you put that down as a $4,000 loss to depreciation. Amortization is similar, in that it lowers values of various assets in relation to time and relative value to what it was when new.

Interest Expenses

Expenses related directly to interest rates tend to get their own line separate from regular debt repayments. This isn't really relevant beyond 'loans are more expensive than when you first get them.'

Travel and League Expenses

Since this is a traveling team, being professionals, and a Major League Baseball Team in particular, money has to be spent on the plane rides, team bus, and of course, the league fees. I wanted to end that a bit more pithy, but it turns out it's not easy to find league fees for the MLB.

(A new team joining would have to pay about $2.2 billion, according to one article, while previous new additions were a couple hundred mill, so... 100 mill? Maybe?)

Hope that answers your question!

[merrikiwi]

What we got up to in July 2024

Writing this blog post is an idea I came up with because it is fun but also because it forces us to reflect on the month and what we did. We've been trying (badly) to keep track of all the things we watched in the year so we can do an end-of-the-year retrospective of all the media we enjoyed so heeeeeeere we go.

July, July, July, what a busy month we've had. From L getting a new job to us running our first convention stall selling our art. We have truly been busy, but that has not stopped us from having fun with all kinds of media. Whether to relax or to research we watched a lot last month so lets talk about it.

Movies Movies are a good place to start. I've been trying to keep track of the movies we watched on Letterbox like I do with anime on MAL. I just like having a big list of all the things I've seen I can't help it XD. 

For my birthday we did a Gentleman-themed movie night. First, we watched The Gentleman a film I've been trying to get L to watch for ages and my birthday seemed like a great opportunity. And guess what she loved it. It's Guy Richie so you know the cinematography and editing are going to be fun a least. I didn't remember how homoerotic it was but I'm all for it. I think the gangsters should kiss. 

We also watched The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare... Also Guy Richie. It even had Henry Cavill but they couldn't save this story from being kinda meh. It sucks because I was looking forward to it but It just felt a little all over the place. You never really get to know any of the characters and the action felt excessive considering the real-life versions of these people managed to do this operation with only one injury. 

The last movie I can remember watching was Valerian And The City Of A Thousand Planets. Our hopes going in were so low but it was actually really awesome. The world and story are just so interesting and well-made. It feels like a passion project from the director. It's just plain fun times. 

TV

For the small screen, we watched The 8 show, A tv adaptation of two Manhwa Pie game and Money game. The show chose elements from both  to create a kind of mish mash of the ideas from both. I hadn't read them but L had so I got to turn and go "Omg did that happen in the Manhwa". I wouldn't want to spoil anything but if you're a fan of death games its very compelling. 

My main criticism of the show as a whole was that the violence in the latter half was actually really hard to watch. It felt excessive and unrealistic. You will watch a character get their head bashed in with a baseball bat multiple times and will be fine the next day. It gives it this kind of unrealistic uneasiness where you're real-world perception of how much damage the human body can take is confused for the sake of plot convenience and shock. 

L: It made some interesting adaptations and outright changes that were mostly good but it is very different to both manhwa. Which is a good thing. I've read it already so show me something cool you can do with the idea!

Anime

Anime was a large part of what we watched as usual. We have completely stepped off the seasonal train and as a result have been enjoying anime from all over... anyway we watched Dungeon Meshi. If you have seen our most recent video you know we love this show. It's genuinely a 10/10 and I can't wait for the next season. I don't want to be basic and make more videos on it but I kinda do. 

Shangri-La Frontier was another anime we brought up in the last video as it was just overflowing with passion and skill. We still haven't finished it with 2 episodes to go.

I Was Reincarnated as the 7th Prince so I Can Take My Time Perfecting My Magical Ability; was also fun but for very silly reasons. I can't sit here and claim it's inherently good but it was fun and easy to watch. Sometimes that's ok.

Lastly, for anime, we have Black Butler. omg, it's so fun. we're only 10 episodes into our rewatch at the moment but it's been about 10 years since I last watched it. The English accents in the dub are particularly awful I love it. 

Its interesting to look back on the anime we watched and see exactly how we went from watching these to writing the Passion and Skill video. I can see what elements of each show inspired what elements of the video. This is cool and fun and nice. 

Games

Don't worry we are nerds of the highest order so we played some games too. I've been playing a few in the last week or so. Star Ocean Divine Force, Orks Must Die 3 and Circus Electrique just to name a few. I've been ping-ponging back and forth between all of them. 

The big game of this month however has to be Spellforce 2. I played 3 and really enjoyed it but the jump back to 2006 graphics was a hurdle I had to vault and I'm glad I did. The game has a lot of interesting elements that they stripped out for the sequel. Unsurprising considering the game changed hands multiple times between the 2 games. It really feels like a classic CRPG with strategy elements instead of a bunch of strategy maps with some RPG-style quests for good measure. It was fun and just as I thought I was finishing it the game kept going. I have no idea where it's going to go next.

L has been playing the Demo for Blue Prince pretty religiously. I don't think ill see her again once the full game comes out but I won't say too much because I think there's a little video/strategy guide on the horizon. You should see the spreadsheet. 

L: Spreadsheet :3c 

Conc

If I could conclude this rambling blog post for July in one word I would say Expanding. Because our tastes are changing and expanding. I'm excited to see what I get to enjoy next month. 

Anyway, this blog post is more for us to store thoughts than anything substantial at the moment but if you enjoyed reading it let us know. If you want better-worded thoughts check out our YouTube videos and if I actually stick to this new idea see you next month.

[beyourownanchor6]

Weekend WIP Game

Tagged by @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more)

WIP List:

active (mostly) wips

—murder!boyfriends

—chris doesn't come back au

—baseball au 2.0

—prision!buddie

other wips that are in the abandoned wips folder...maybe i'll return to them one day...

—author!buck

—insurgent au

—platonic fwb

—fwb buck 1.0.2 au

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

—chris doesn't come back au (a little shy of 14k)

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

—probably chris doesn't come back au. i've barely gotten into things and am already at almost 14k 💀

4. Which WIP is your favorite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

—hmm i'm actually having so much fun writing the murder!boyfriends au! i just love making them unhinged 😈

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

—probably the murder!boyfriends, just bc it is so dark, and i don't want people to hate it. idk i'm afraid i won't be able to pull it off 😩

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

—the author!buck one. it was just a silly little idea, but writing all the smutty parts for it became kind of intimidating and i ended up hating it and throwing it to the side. i haven't looked back since

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

—i've never used a beta reader tbh. i usually just send my friends snippets or things for vibe checks!

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

—see above the abandon wips, or any of the ones you haven't seen me posting about lately 🥲

9. Which WIP has your favorite OC? Tell us about them?

—i don't have any OC atm, but i would love to play with that in the future!

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

—hmm probably the author!au from what i remember or murder!boyfriends just bc i think them being covered in blood and stabbing ppl is sexy 🙊

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

—chris doesn't come back au. its a pretty heavy one. i love all the threats i get whenever i post a new snippet 😆

12. Which WIP has the best characterization (in your humble opinion)?

—hmmm maybe the chris doesn't come back au? i've had to really deep dive into both their heads for this one

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

—chris doesn't come back au bc tsunami episodes my most beloved, but also murder!boyfriends, bc the dark settings are so fun to conjure up!

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

—chris doesn't come back au. it's the one i've put the most time and effort into as of late. she's been in my ideas for forever and has a special place in my heart <33

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

—chris doesn't come back au, mainly for the reason above. she's my babygirl, ok 🥹

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

—mm not that i can specifically think of or remember, but i'm sure i have at some point!

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that that your other fics don't?

—murder!boyfriends is definitely darker than anything i've done before

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humor?

—author!buck is the only one that comes to mind

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

—not currently. i've played around a little with that in the past though. it's always fun diving into others heads!

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs

—i do have a secret wip not listed anywhere above 👀

tagging: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @honestlydarkprincess @monsterrae1 @onward--upward @barbiediaz @spotsandsocks @buddierights @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @witchesdiaz @jacksadventuresinwriting @wh0re-behavi0r @spaceprincessem @wildlife4life @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz

[joeythefrog]

Ok I saw a post from @ethereal-bumble-bee about a newsies zombie apocalypse au and it unlocked the part of my brain that has unfortunately spent many hours thinking about this so here’s my take.

Jack would not survive without help. Yes he has the natural leadership skills and was able to presumably keep the newsies alive for years. But this is an entirely new situation and he had it pretty easy as a leader with his reputation doing most of the work to keep him and his newsies safe. And if we are talking modern au then he wasn’t forced into that situation and has no real natural leadership skills other than public speaking. He’s disorganised, doesn’t keep track of everyone, tries to focus on the human side of it. He could live, but only with someone else helping. 40% chance of survival alone, 80% with someone

Davey is actually better than Jack. He would focus on claiming one safe house and slowly expanding past that. Big on sustainability, literally never leaves base unless it’s necessary. Keeps meticulous lists of everything and has it all organised. Collects survivors because he feels like he has to but if they get on his nerves or they don’t get along he won’t be able to put up with them and boots them as soon and safely as possible. 70% chance he lives, 30% chance there’s some form of accident he couldn’t see coming. Or really a survivor he took in who he thought he got along with gets sick of him and throws him in.

Spot would prioritise land similar to David. Main base, probably upgrades to interconnected ones when he collects survivors. But he also wants to make a large strip of land a safe zone. Definitely collects survivors but ditches them if they become a risk, will not stand to not be leader because he’s convinced that unless they prove their competence that they won’t be useful. (He’s not wrong) Also probably owns a map of the town with thumb tacks colour coded to indicate looted areas, safe and unsafe areas, high loot areas ect. And definitely has a high school yearbook and crosses off each person as soon as he sees evidence that they died. Profiled the ones who he thought would live and tried to track them down. He has probably been preparing for this his whole life in the back of his mind. Isn’t a big fan of anyone older joining him. Definitely lives

Race would find some nearby abandoned treehouse and claim it as his because of the high ground. Treats it like a video game but shockingly manages to survive the whole time. Gets tracked down by Spot, absolutely decks the guy with a baseball bat to the face because he thought a zombie got in somehow. Probably convinces Spot to move into the treehouse. Is actually pretty tactical and will live through the whole thing, even if alone.

Katherine stays alone until whoever wants to take her proves themselves. Documents everything. Really just stays in her house and focuses on sustainability so she never has to leave. It probably gets raided at some point by survivors bc it’s a rich area. If she chooses to go with them there’s a 85% chance of survival (It’s Race and Spot) but if she chooses not to go with them because their men (fair) then she dies due to zombies entering in the way Race and Spot blew their way in. But her records are used to show the past civilisations and are considered monumental historical documents.

Crutchie would live for a while despite the disadvantage of his leg. But he needs to live with someone and isn’t useful on raids. (Unstable land, can’t move fast enough) probably tries to go anyway because he refuses to be limited. Since the ground is unstable under him he ends up falling a heap and getting injured. Probably dies due to infections gained from it or gets eaten after falling and he can’t run away quick enough. 60% chance of survival

[nancypullen]

SPRING!

Spring has sprung and I've got an itchy trowel hand. I'm dying to get stated in the gardens. Raise your hand if you think I need at least one raised bed for herbs.

I chose those baseball players because it's also baseball season! Opening day is March 28th. Hit 'em where they ain't boys! Name that movie. Here's a hint.

If I sound chipper today, it's because I am. I HAVE A DAY OFF! Hallelujah! This job has become all-consuming and honestly, not fun. With spring in the air I'm longing for home and time spent playing in the dirt. The flower beds in the front of the house wave me off every morning and greet me every night - and I miss them!

Those gorgeous irises ae from Stoner Creek Elementary where I spent many years working. When a tornado wiped out the school some of my sweet teacher friends dug up and divided irises from the grounds. My dear pal, Dina, gifted me with several and they're thriving. The tulip bulbs were sent by my sister-in-law last December. I put them in the ground and, lo and behold, all 40 bloomed! Isn't it special when you can look at parts of your gardens and feel a rush of love for the people who made it possible? Double the pleasure. Our high today is just 47 and there's a chilly wind blowing, but the sun is bight and skies are blue. No complaints from me. I spent a little time cleaning up winter debris from the flower beds and making plans for what I'll grow this year. Every fall I swear I'm not planting sunflowers again, and every spring I come across seeds that I saved and I'm pulled right back in. Of course I'll plant them. They did really well on the east side of the house last summer, so that's where they'll go again. I surrounded them with zinnias for extra color (is there anything easier to grow than zinnias?) and the grandgirl liked making bouquets with them. I'll do that again. My Zepherine rose bush arrived last week and went into the ground, crossing my fingers that she'll really show off. Of course, this is her first year so I shouldn't expect too much. I shouldn't, but I will. I need to do a lot of things with my time off, but I have a feeling most of it will involve dirt. I'm okay with that. I just want to wear old t-shirts, make things grow, and feed the birds and squirrels. I've become an old swamp witch. There are worse ways to spend my time, right? I've got a roast in the crockpot, I'll roast some broccoli and mash some taters for dinner. We eat a lot of salmon and salads, generally avoiding red meat, but I thought the mister deserved a big hunk of cow meat tonight. He has been absolutely wonderful about keeping things tidy and making dinners. I know, I know women do invisible work for decades and no one ever applauds or thanks them. We're criticized when we don't do it all, but never thanked. Still, I appreciate that he's not leaving everything for me to do, so I will shower him with beef. I know it's been forever since I posted, and I really hate it. HATE it. I ask myself at the end of every nine hour day at the library why I'm doing this. I just wanted to volunteer somewhere and meet some nice people.

I know that most folks don't see what happens behind the scenes in a library, it seems like quiet people just sit at desks and check books in and out. There's constant work to be done, lots of big plastic tubs of books coming and going that have to be processed, inter-library loans,etc. I also spend time at the information desk which is always wild. Some of the questions that people call with would blow your mind. I enjoy working in the children's room, that's always fun. I really love when I can put the right book into a kid's hands and they come back and ask for more like it. Shelving never ends...ever. I'm already working on April's displays , two in the main library and one in the children's room. I just really wish that the days weren't so long. This week is a short week for me and I am delighted. Next week will be long. If they'd just have me come in from 9 to 1 daily, I could knock out all of my work plus others' tasks and still have a life. I work every hour that I'm there, others do not. If I have down time I will float around and pick up the slack in other areas. If everything is caught up, I'll clean. I never thought I'd be that senior citizen that complained about "young people today", but my gosh there's a whole lot of dead weight on staff. Seems like everyone has a special reason why they can't complete a task or show up for work. Ugh. They're all making more than me and getting health insurance, why am I the only one worried about the work getting done? I'm the part-time granny! Okay, I'm not going to end this happy blog post with whining about work. It has been good for me to get out and meet people, I'll stick with the positives. I skipped lunch today because I was working in the yard and now I'm feeling snacky. Since we're having a big dinner I guess I'll just have some cucumbers or a cup of yogurt. That'll keep me from wasting away to normal. Might even sit down and watch some murder tv. I've really been missing my shows! I have to catch up on all of the heinous things people do to one another. I wouldn't be surprised if someone calls the library asking how to dispose of a body, I'll just consider this research. I'm off for a couple of days so I'll blog again tomorrow. Hooray!! I miss the old days of steady blogging. Until then... Stay safe, stay well, HAPPY SPRING! XOXO, Nancy

[waveridden]

i would love for you to give deets on why you disliked those books. i love salt

yessss i love complaining. putting this under a cut because it's long, however i'll say up top that if you found this post because you tumblr searched a book you like... maybe skip this one! because i didn't like these books!

the ballad of songbirds and snakes, if you haven't heard of it, is the hunger games prequel about president snow when he was young and hot. i dislike it on principle but when we did our hunger games book club i decided i was going to give it my best and most open-minded shot that i could handle giving it.

my main problem is actually that i extremely dislike the politics and the worldbuilding implications for the rest of the series. the timeline becomes incredibly fucked. the thematic implications don't make sense. it is so bloated, and so long, with so many names and characters and so relatively few interesting things happening.

also: the hunger games capitol is in denver. the original hunger games were in an old sports arena that was also used for concerts and events sometimes. it is described as having a massive goalpost that is tall and two-pronged. that's right. it's the denver broncos stadium. (the american football team.) once you know that the hunger games were in the denver broncos stadium, it kind of takes a lot of the suspense out.

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the bromance book club is a highly-recommended romance novel. the basic premise is: a professional baseball player and his wife are on the brink of divorce after he discovers that she has never had an orgasm with him. in order to save his marriage (and learn to satisfy his wife) he joins a top secret book club of Alpha Men who secretly read romance novels to learn about what women like.

i actually thought the premise was cute but where it fell apart is that i HATED the main character. his wife was literally correct 100% of the time and should've left him. it was just unfunny and weird and bad.

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identitti is a contemporary drama (translated from german) about a german-indian graduate student who discovers that her beloved german-indian advisor is, in fact, a white woman who has been lying about being indian. the book categorically refuses to cast judgment on her - the protagonist feels betrayed, but the advisor just keeps saying over and over that it's actually fine and identity is fluid, but never actually makes a good argument.

aside from the very strong personal reaction i have to this book (i.e. that the advisor was Wrong and that it was weird for this (german-indian) author to present this case) the biggest problem i have is that it used a real life mass shooting to prove a point. there was a hate crime in hanau, germany, that becomes a plot point in the book, but it revolves around people connecting that shooting to the fictional advisor, and i just think that's shitty, actually!

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small game is the debut novel by blair braverman who is a survivalist and who raises sled dogs which rules. it is about a survivalist who goes onto a survivalist reality show, only for all the cameras to vanish halfway through, leaving the contestants to wonder: did something happen? have they been forgotten? is this all just a part of the show? or is something more sinister going on?

let me spoil the answer for you: the network lost funding, canceled the show, and something went wrong that meant that the contestants were never picked up. now you do not have to slog through ~150 pages of the contestants having that exact debate, weird gross survivalism, incredibly strange and upsetting animal and human deaths, and a really bizarre dubcon-y love story.

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singer distance has a premise that i really loved: earth begins getting messages from mars that people realize are actually mathematical communications. after a certain point the math becomes too advanced; enter crystal, a genius mathematician who figures out the solution... and then disappears.

this book is not about crystal. it is about her college boyfriend, who feels inadequate to her and feels bad about it. after she goes missing he spends years pining after for her. eventually it is revealed that the two of them had a kid together and the kid finds him and they search for her together. i was really hoping for a fun and interesting scifi alternate history type thing and instead it was just a book about a sad boring man

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cover is an indie comic miniseries about a comic book artist who is drafted into international espionage. the art was really nice but i haven't read bendis comics in years and i forgot how far up his own ass he gets, especially when it comes to how many words per page he writes. and this was especially navel-gazey, just talking constantly (constantly) (CONSTANTLY) about The Art Of Comics and how good it is. there also wasn't enough espionage.

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how to give up plastic & how to save the world for free are two different and unrelated books that fall into a category i'm trying to read more of, i.e. the practical environmentally-friendly guide. these books had the same problem: the advice was fucking stupid! how to give up plastic said that if companies send you unnecessary plastic packaging, you should ship it back to them to make a statement (what!!!!!!) and every idea in how to save the world for free cost money.

i think my biggest problem with books like these is that most of the advice is for 1) homeowners, because so much of the advice tends to be like "compost in your yard" or "install solar panels," and 2) people who have never considered buying reusable bags or water bottles. i am trying to find something with advice that is practical and cheap (the climate diet is the closest i've gotten, some of it is ridiculous but some of it is genuinely applicable) but these books just gave stupid fucking advice

[funky-gobbo-art]

Trans!Donovan

I wanna share finally this really cringey au I made for Mafia 3 but I think I need to start with my trans!Donovan headcanon. I know I made a big headcanon note post here a while back but some little things changed since then. I'm way more open with headcanoning John as a homosexual man, and for a bit now I've also been seeing him as a trans man as well, mostly cause THIS post was the start of some brain worms.

So, most of my main headcanons are still in place: Born in the Southwestern part of PA, a November Scorpio, has autism and also BPD, parents are Irish immigrants, has 2 older brothers. Father is a WW2 vet, oldest brother fought in the Korean War, middle brother is a baseball player. Very Catholic upbringing, both parents were devout, were working class but dad got successful in either mining or steel based production.

Big change is that I think the oldest brother should die overseas in the Korean War, but he was the favorite in the family and his death made things even more tense.

Now for the trans specific stuff:

(Disclaimer: I'm very aware how difficult it would be for a trans man in this era to do ANY of this stuff.)

Born female, deadname was "Jacqueline" but got called "Jackie" a lot, despite being raised female in the 30's-40's, he still has his nosey personality, eavesdropped a lot. Still got into technology like messing with radios and phones, which would get him in trouble a lot. Was considered a nerd with his interest in tech, politics and history.

Had a habit of stealing his middle brothers clothes a lot, which didn't bother him, since they got along during this time.

Mom would dress him up a lot, especially for church, which John hated but had to take it for most of his childhood. Since he was socialized female, his mother would constantly make comments on his body and how he dressed himself, once he became a preteen and started highschool, she would start shaming him for even saying "Hi" to another boy.

Went to Catholic schools until he graduated. Was a hard kid to get along with but he was very smart and had great grades, even picking up of foreign languages very fast (got that USEFUL autism lol). Nuns did not like him especially in his later teens because he started openly questioning the religion and pointing on contradictions in the Bible.

Speaking of his teens: that's when he started to think more about his gender and while he was about 16/17, he started transitioning discreetly, even at a young age he was good at making shady connections.

Since binders and sports-bras didn't exist yet, he unfortunately went through most of his teens and 20s binding with bandages, or wearing a lot of layers.

He graduated highschool at 17 and was miraculously able to get in Princeton University, despite them not letting in female students yet. John used his dads connections and submitted an application under their noses and didn't let his parents know the finer details of it.

Since his own shady connections he was able to change up his legal documents so he can present them at the University to show them that he's a man.

Eventually he graduated and was recruited into the C.I.A. They did not know he was a FTM transgendered man, and never found out.

The only people that did know about his identity were, in order: the person that got him hormones and changed his documents, a friend thats a doctor that works for the C.I.A, Connor Aldridge, Robert Marshall, Jackie Grimaldi, Gary (helicopter pilot), and finally Lincoln Clay.

Speaking of Aldridge, in John's early days in the Agency he had to work under him, and since Connor was his mentor, he started trusting him a lot during their time together in Guatemala.

Obviously it ended really badly as seen in Stones Unturned, but this was the first time John really came out to someone officially and this shortly lead to him and Connor having a relationship behind the scenes.

After this everything goes from my trans headcanon to my Cringe AU, so I'll wrap this up here:

Is AFAB and started fully identifying as a man in his mid-late teens.

Binded with layered clothing and bandages. Takes Testosterone injections.

Got top surgery in Vietnam from a South Vietnam allied doctor. Claimed he got ambushed in the country and needed surgery when he's asked from superiors.

Cut contact with family during Princeton years. Cannot face them these days at all.

Liked boys when he was younger which his mom didn't like, still likes men now in a way a lot of people wouldn't like. But he doesn't care lol.

Hormones still won't let him grow facial hair.

Don't worry about the things that don't make sense :)

If you have any problems with this and think I'm weird, I understand but also 👇👇👇

Stay tuned for the Cringe AU which is gonna get a lot worse :3

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

WIP Tag Game

Thank you for the tags @luxurychristmaspudding, @ghotifishreads, and @yxtkiwiyxt

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

PLEASE note that I am currently trying to navigate through my writing flop era. Not to get too real life here, but trigger warning pet loss and sickness, my dog of almost 15 years is quite sick and we don't have much longer with him. Needless to say between real life responsibilities and dealing with the bleakness of what's to come has truly taken away a lot of my writing inspiration. ANYWAYS sorry to get sad on main, here are my stupid titles spread out between Pages and Google Docs.

Batter Up (has nothing to do with baseball Joel)

Based Guilt

Green 2

NEIGHBORS

yourman

Harvest Moon

CO GIRL TOWNES

Vacay

As If You

Fifteen Whatevs

Date Night

Mirror

Wedd

WDW

Elliott Smith

Goldenbday

And I believe I am late to this train and I've seen a lot of other posts of this. Soooo, if you've already been tagged and posted, please feel free to send it to me so I can take part in your challenge. I haven't been on Tumblr much.

Tagging: @janaispunk, @maggiemayhemnj, @romanarose, @ghotifishreads, @justagalwhowrites,

@secretelephanttattoo, @beskarandblasters, @jennaispunk

[trannydean-moved]

spn aus you say..... (please tell everything I am begging)

GIGGLING LIKE AN IDIOT!!!!! OKAY!!!!! warning this is a really long post kgjhjkgrjkd.

i've got 11 so far, but two of em (rvbnatural and spidernatural) barely have anything. rvbnatural is spn guys in the red vs. blue universe with dean, sam, and my oc jaime being a part of a special elite military project, similar to project freelancer in rvb. it's in the 2550s so it's set in same time frame as the halo games do. spidernatural is the spn guys in some sort of spiderverse, idk if it's like itsv/atsv or what, but it WAS inspired by atsv coming out. azazel is a spider demon guy wanting to take over the world with spider demon kids. he gives baby sam some spider demon blood and then little dean comes in and tries to protect him and he ends up bitten. both of them end up with spider powers and are spider-men.

but then i've got more in-depth aus! my most recent one is a modern au where jaime's family and dean's were next door neighbors for about their whole lives. jaime had to witness john abusing and neglecting his kids, and eventually he just decided he wasn't fucking having it anymore. he tricks john into coming into the woods and beats him to death with his baseball bat. garth is there and he helps bury the body.

john's sudden disappearance gets chalked up to be him going missing, sam and dean (and maybe adam, idk if he's gonna be here yet or not) go to live with bobby, and jaime thinks his problems are over. he and garth never speak of it again.

UNTIL several years later when some kids were digging around in the woods and they dug up john's body. it was obvious that john was murdered, his case is reopened. jaime becomes the main suspect. cas is going to be his defense lawyer.

there's my farmer au. sam and dean were born and raised on the winchester farm, being basically the only ones who worked there outside of their father. sam eventually goes to college, and john has to hire a farmhand. dunno who it is yet, but a few years later, that farmhand quit right before harvest time, so now it's just him and dean. he orders dean to make ads and put them up so that they can get a new farmhand.

enter jaime, who has just moved to their area of texas. he's never been living out of his guardians' house and though he thought moving across the state to be on his own was a good idea, he's sort of scrambling because he didn't have a real plan. he sees the ad and though he's never done farm work before, he has done manual labor and he figures he can pick up on this stuff fairly well.

plus, in exchange for working, he also gets to live in the farmhouse on the property, and he doesn't have to pay for food or rent (though he DOES get less pay due to this). he figures this is a pretty good deal, and ends up going to apply for the job. he gets it, despite the fact john doesn't like that he's kind of scrawny. (he reflects that dean's always been on the leaner side and he gets the job done "okay", and this is also the best he's got, so he has to go with it).

jaime and dean quickly become best friends--they're working together side-by-side almost all day, almost every day. come harvest time, dean and jaime are tasked with selling their crop at the farmer's market.

enter cas, the youngest of a wealthy family who has always been big buyers in the winchester crop. cas and dean have had fleeting encounters and both have a crush on each other tbh. jaime sees cas for the first time when cas comes to their stall on his first day at the farmer's market and definitely understands where dean was coming from.

next i've got my modern au that's got dean as a famous music artist. tbh i don't have so much for this one, but basically, dean is a music artist and he's been hitting a writer's block (or whatever you call it for songwriting) but something makes him remember his high school best friends/crushes (jaime and cas) and he ends up writing a song about them. and he doesn't use any pronouns in the song referring to them, and TECHNICALLY both "jaime" and "cas" can be considered gender neutral, so while the song is a huge hit once he releases it, there's also lots of discussion/controversy about it because "okay so are these two people girls or guys??? or one's a girl and one's a guy???" but it's funny because it's none of the above, jaime and cas are both non-binary. but anyways both jaime and cas end up hearing it on the radio and they're both like "oh my fuck he remembers me…"

and they've been living their separate lives far away from each other for many years but now they all begin reminiscing their high school "friendship" (they were all extremely gay for each other) and debate whether to try contacting each other again. i mean, dean wrote a song about them and it became a big hit and is currently being played all across the country right now. it would kinda make sense to do so. and they're all kinda missing each other, which they dismiss as nostalgia but it's really a lot more than that.

so jaime and cas find each other and then decide to attend to dean's next concert, bc he's on tour rn. they somehow get dean to notice them in the crowd (jaime's gonna do smth stupid prolly) and dean sees them and is SO HAPPY and he puts his whole pussy into that concert. and then they reunite and are all super happy to see each other again. and they can't just ignore dean's confession in the song.... they all end up getting together again, it's good.

next my merfolk au!!! MY FAVORITE HEHEHE!!! jaime and cas are two merpeople who live on the coast, next to an older fisherman's cabin owned by bobby. i'm not sure if in this au, merpeople are social beings in the way they live in pods or not, but either way, cas and jaime are rejected by basically anyone (cas is too weird, jaime is too aggressive (protective of cas!!!)) other than gabriel, who is cas' guardian, and then jaime's once he comes around (jaime's parents died, jaime ran (swam) away from the rest of his family and got lost, then found by cas).

dean has been visiting bobby's place since he was a little kid, and the first time jaime and cas saw him, they were instantly fascinated. they'd never seen a human their age before. jaime wanted to introduce themselves to dean but cas was shy and not ready so jaime was cool with that. they stuck to hanging out with bobby when sam and dean weren't there.

fast forward 15-20 some years. jaime gets captured by fishermen and sold to a freak show. cas comes up on land disguised as a human and begs dean for help (bobby's in town rn). it takes a while but with sam's help they're able to locate and rescue jaime. by this time, dean knows about cas and jaime being merpeople, and he's definitely awestruck by them when he sees them both in trueform. and they're both fascinated by him, which he finds embarrassing, because he doesn't believe beings so magnificent should find him, a measly human, fascinating.

then there's my dystopian/post-apocalypse au!!! cas lives in a glass-encased bunker that's been the "one safe place" since earth's nuclear fallout nearly 100 years before. dean and jaime are two people living outside the bunker, otherwise known as purgatory. jaime and dean have been best friends their whole lives and have gone through literally everything together--losing their parents, raising their little siblings (in jaime's case, cousin, but jackie has always been more like a sister to jaime rather than a cousin).

jaime, dean, sam, and jackie all go out searching for the bunker, wanting to see the real thing. they've heard stories about it, and the oldest people they've met remember being rejected from entering the bunker during the fallout due to the bunker being "too full". it takes years, but they do find it. cas sees them, and cas, who has been obsessed with learning all he can about purgatory for basically his whole life, is bursting with excitement about finding people on the outside.

chuck, cas' dad and the president of all the people in the bunker, is just SO MAD that his son found the outsiders before his people did. because see, ever since the higher-ups of the bunker realized there was still people surviving outside, they began to capture them, bring them secretly to secret labs, and basically experiment on them to find out how they can survive outside the bunker until they die. chuck did not stop this tradition when he became president and found out about all this.

so basically, chuck tries to find an excuse to get these four outsiders to "disappear" so that he can get them to his private labs to experiment on. there's a problem, because cas is attached to them, to two in particular really. and cas doesn't know about what chuck's doing--if he did, he wouldn't stand for it. so chuck has to try to do all he wants while keeping it hidden from cas. it doesn't end up working btw.

i've got my hunter!jaime au, which is basically what jaime's life would've been like if he'd grown up knowing about the supernatural. there is SO MUCH i have for it, i cannot put it all here, but i CAN make separate posts about it if you want me to!!!

i've got two soulmate aus--a soulmate tattoo au and a soulmate journal au. in the soulmate tat one, it's a lot like your usual au with this trope--you've got your soulmate's name tattooed to you somewhere. but sometimes, people are born with more than one name on them, or none at all, and those with more than one are mostly shunned by society, while those with none are pitied. jaime, cas, and dean all have two, ofc, and grow up with different reactions to it--jaime gets it an accepting family, though they're a little misguided in their support ("he's confused, but he's got the spirit" sort of deal). cas' is an outcast at school for it, and half his brothers despise him for it while the other half do their best to make sure he knows he's not alone. then dean gets the shittiest bit, with his godawful father hating him and definitely mistreating him for this. i'm using this au to be a thing in support of polyamorous and ace individuals, and i just hope i can do good with my representation.

then with the soulmate journal au, every baby has a journal pop up when they're born that they can use to communicate with their soulmate/s. jaime and cas talk with each other for several years and think only they are each other's soulmates, but dean is also their soulmate--john just confiscated his journal after mary died and never let him get a hold of it. however, jaime and cas fill up their initial journal and another one appears for each of them, and that ALSO makes another one appear to dean. he gets to write to his soulmates for the first time and it's a big whirlwind for him bc woah, finally, he gets to talk to them!!! but then again, the only examples of soulmates he's seen is his dad and the awful way he handled mary's death, so dean's not the fondest of the idea. he has to keep his journal hidden so no one ever finds it and takes away what becomes one of the only highlights in his life.

finally, my last one!!! this is just a regular modern au. jaime moves into a new town and tries to fit in. he gets a job at cas' bakery, and he meets dean at the mechanics shop, and they all fall in love :] it's very nice and sweet.

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! this was a lot to type out 😭😭😭

[omegamusings-writigs]

Unwanted Bond

Masterlist

Posted originally on March 23, 2020 Edited slightly December 22, 2022

Sherrey had never been the one for him, Dwight knew that. He had loved her, of course, as much as an alpha could love an omega that wasn’t his fated mate, but he always knew that she was not the one he was meant to be with.

This became even more clear to him when he first smelled her. The tall, gorgeous, and, unclaimed omega that had been brought into the Sanctuary not long ago. Y/N.

The moment he had seen Y/N, no even before that, the moment he had smelled her, he knew. The warehouse he lived in tended to smell like wet concrete, death, blood, and sweat but the moment she had neared his proximity, he could suddenly smell the baked goods his mother used to make in their kitchen years ago when he was still a pup. 

Dwight had turned around and discovered the source of this scent that felt like home immediately. He had watched her enter the building, hands tied behind her back as she was pushed forward by Simon. Her eyes had met his and for a brief moment, some sort of recognition flashed through them before she turned her head away from him again and pretended to not have seen him in the first place.

Y/N had survived on her own for a very long time. Losing both her parents at a young age and growing up in an orphanage, she had quickly learned to rely on no one but herself. Then she had presented as Omega and spent days on cursing herself and her existence. She didn’t want to be an omega. She had always hoped to be a beta. It was easier to rely only on yourself when your biology wasn’t fighting against exactly that.

She had moved into a rustic setting close to a large forest as soon as she was able to, living of what money she could make off selling her art. When shit hit the fan and the dead started walking, she had been able to stay where she was for a long time before she was forced to leave the comforts of her home and she had managed to survive for years in this new world without major conflicts. 

She met people here and there but she never joined a group and didn’t want to either. There was no reason to do so. So the last thing she expected was to be captured by a group of people that called themselves “The Saviours”. 

At least, she thought that was the last thing she expected. What came even more unexpected was the strange but welcoming smell of the woods outside her house just after it had rained, mixed with the smell of the leather jacket she had worn most of her life but was forced to abandon two years prior while being attacked by the undead.

She made eye contact with a lean blond main whose shoulder-length hair was covering parts of a large scar covering one half of his face. Alpha, something in her thought as she quickly looked away. 

A part of her wanted nothing more in this moment than kick in the legs of the man named Simon who was leading her down the hallway and run towards the mysterious alpha that she had recognised as hers. That part of her wanted to snuggle against that man she didn’t even know the name of and purr happily. She adamantly fought back this part of her. There was no way in hell, that she would show such vulnerability. She didn’t need an alpha and most importantly, she didn’t want one.

Only betas were allowed to interact with prisoners. It was something Negan had established early on, as he wanted to prevent any alpha/omega related problems. This meant, that Dwight didn’t see the omega, his omega for weeks until she suddenly started to have guard shifts. This was the only time he ever saw her. 

Dwight wanted to talk with her, of course, but he knew he shouldn’t. Not just because he somehow still felt like he was betraying Sherrey but also because he knew he was still on Negan’s shitlist. There was no way he would just hand the psychopath with the baseball bat another way to control him. No, Dwight would stay away from Y/N. He would stay away and hope that Negan never, ever found out about the connection the two of them unwillingly shared.