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billsfangearring · 1 year

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I was going to ask you about the aloto fic, since your posts about the show have singlehandedly converted me even though I haven't seen it yet! (I despise Amazon; this poses a conundrum.) Others have beat me to it, and I saw your note about wanting to clear any posted snippets with your co-writer. But I would take more musings! Or I would also like to see a snippet from The Black Dog, because I remember loving a few lines you quoted from it.

Hi PI! Thank you for this ask! Please know that it made me giddy with happiness, even if my three-week delay in answering gave the opposite impression. I'm so sorry! I can only blame the holidays and apartment hunting. And the fact that I've barely written anything beyond sentence fragments for this fic so far.

I'm thrilled that you've caught the ALOTO bug via my tumblr! It's an incredibly moving and nuanced show. I really do recommend it, though I had to grit my teeth to pay for a month of Prime. For me, it was worth it. I hope you can find a viewing method that works for you!

Before you give any money to Jeff Bezos, I should warn you that the ALOTO content on my blog isn't exactly representative of the show. There are two separate but interlocking narratives: Rockford native Max Chapman's and Peaches catcher Carson Shaw's. Max's story is more compelling to me, but my favorite character is Lupe García, who's a secondary character on the Peaches. I find Carson kind of boring, to be honest, but that may say more about me than Carson because I suspect I'm most like her. I just don't want to give you false expectations about the main characters!

Anyway, back to the ALOTO fic. Would a rough little snippet from a scene that got stuck in my head when I should have been sleeping last night suffice? :)

Jess stands and offers Lupe her hand, like it’s nothing. Lupe stares at her guitar-calloused fingers, her dirt-caked nails, and the leather-stained creases in her palm. An outstretched hand means something different to Jess than it does to Lupe. Lupe knows this. For Lupe, hands carefully clasp each other in prayer then grip the lifeline of a ball. They tentatively twine around a girl’s manicure then claw at tattered expectations. They gently hold a newborn’s head then strain around the circumference of dreams. When God made you grasping, Lupe knows, a hand reaching back will wrap itself tightly around your heart and squeeze, too-tight, and never let go.

#thanks for the ask!#untitled aloto angst #well we sort of have a title now but it's a bit unwieldy #wip ask game #aloto

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blackleatherjacketz · 5 years

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My Brother’s Keeper: Chapter 5

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your brother runs away from the Sanctuary and you pay the price.

Warnings: Prude-shaming, Slut-shaming, Sibling rivalry, Mentions of sex, Hot coffee, Spot the Hamilton reference, Angst, Anger, Fear, All that good stuff!

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Tags: @rasa1945 @annablack1102 @genevievedarcygranger @letsby @negans-network @negansdirtygirll @collette04 @mblaqgi @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @irrelevantwriter

“How long have you known?” The truth of your sister’s knowledge stung like a freshly open wound even though it didn’t surprise you. She’d always been the most secretive, the most manipulative, the most controlling of your siblings. You looked Natalie in the eye, her hazel irises expanding as she avoided your stare.

“A week or so,” she finally admitted.

“Natalie, you should have told me,” you paused in disbelief at your sister’s treachery. “Negan has scouts from here to Timbuktu watching the roads to the other communities. Did you think about that?” You walked past your father who couldn’t stop staring at the goodbye note Alex had written him, speechless on his bunk.

“And risked you blabbing your mouth to Doctor Carson or anyone else who walked into the infirmary?” She rose her eyebrows accusingly. “I don’t think so.”

“I don’t blab my mouth!” You defended, folding your arms across your chest.

“No, but you’re a bad liar, and so is dad. I couldn’t risk telling either of you.” She pointed to him.

“Hey!” He interjected, looking up from the letter. “I can keep a secret!”

You both pursed your lips, rolling your eyes as you remembered all the times he verbalized his innermost thoughts at the most inappropriate times.

“Alright, I’ll give you dad, but why didn’t you go just with them? Why are you still here? You hate it here.” You took a few steps forward, leaving only a foot of space between you.

“Somebody had to take care of him.” She nodded toward your father. “You’re already maxed out on points with your job, so I thought that when Negan found out they’d escaped he’d want…” her eyes darted over you nervously. “I thought that he’d want more from us.”

“And you thought that he’d want you, huh?” You swallowed hard, her confidence never ceasing to amaze you.

“Well yeah, I mean, what else could I do? I majored in cosmetology, I can’t…” she glanced around the room frantically, “Fix people when they’re hurt or build structures for the Sanctuary. I’m not like you and dad, okay?”

“So you were just going to… what? Fuck your way out of this like you fuck your way out of everything else?” Years of resentment began to manifest itself as anger, fanning a flame that burnt hot on your cheeks as your words became more candid.

“Looks like you beat me to it.” She tilted her head, glancing at your fresh bruises. “I was surprised you even remembered how to spread your legs at all.”

Your mouth fell open as your sister’s words hit the air, cutting you deep.

“Okay,” you started, putting a cautionary hand in the air, “It wasn’t even like that, and just so you know, I’ve spread my legs plenty.”

“Oh yeah? And how long ago was that?” Her eyes widened in judgement. “Negan needs someone with experience, not someone like you.”

“At least I haven’t slept with half the sanctuary already!” You couldn’t believe you were being prude-shamed by your own flesh and blood. “And just so you know, I’ve been focused on my career, doing my part to keep the whole family be safe, not trying to get my rocks off every chance I get!”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” She screamed desperately, her jugular vein distending in her neck. “We can’t risk you getting overwhelmed with intimacy like you ALWAYS do. If anyone was made for this, it was me.” She clenched her jaw as she stared you down, her expression as dire as her words. “This is life or death, and we can’t mess this up.”

“Girls,” your father interjected, standing up. “Your mother’s out there with your brother somewhere. The last thing she’d want you to do is fight.”

“We’re not fighting, we’re having a conversation,” you whispered through gritted teeth. Those very words were often uttered by your mother after hours of screaming between them while you and your siblings huddled together at the top of the stairs.

He gave you a knowing glance and continued, “This has to stop.” He folded the piece of paper in half, in fourths, then in eighths before putting it in that tiny little pocket in the front of his jeans. “Negan made his choice, and we have to honor that.”

“I will if she does,” Natalie hissed.

“Alright,” you smirked, exposing both palms. “I’ll see you guys later.”

——————-

You tried your best to distract yourself, to put that horrid conversation in the back of your mind as you opened the latest novel Alex had lent you: Clear and Present Danger. Jesus, that sounded a little too close to home, didn’t it? You soldiered through the first few pages, not being able to focus on the words in front of you at all. You felt yourself reading the same sentence three times over before actually registering what it was trying to say. Nothing against Tom Clancy, but you just weren’t in the mood to read.

God, you missed movies.

Instead you decided to get some air, to change the scenery of these bland concrete walls to help improve your mood. You pushed into the heavy metal door at the end of the hallway, its hinges squeaking loudly against the rusted metal of the frame as you walked through the threshold and into the wet summer heat. The hum from the electric light in the corner of the building mixed with with the buzz of batted wings as moths and mosquitoes battled for dominance in an ambient summer chorus. At least these bugs would bite and suck your blood without judgement.

You let the door slam shut behind you, hearing it catch on the cinder block that kept it open for whoever else was out here. You were hoping to be alone for a few minutes but with the Sanctuary’s security protocols, the likelihood of that was very slim. Whoever was out here would be light years better company than your sister or that book.

“The hell are you doing out here?” The female Savior turned to face you, her M-16 at the ready. Oh thank God, it was only Laura.

“Can’t sleep,” you confessed, feigning to raise your hands in surrender.

“You never have trouble sleeping.” She loosened the grip on her weapon, letting go of it completely to let it hang by the strap on her shoulders. “You wanna talk about it?” She jested, turning away before you could even answer.

“Not really,” you whispered.

One of the perks of being a nurse at the Sanctuary was earning the inherent trust of most of its residents. Workers and Saviors alike all came to you and Doctor Carson in their times of need, putting their lives and comfort in your hands. Laura was one of those people about a year ago, getting shot in the stomach by a vagrant traveler when she hobbled into the infirmary covered in blood.

You remembered stitching her up while Doctor Carson was busy with an amputation next door, feeding her antibiotics and a few extra painkillers when no one else was looking. Ever since then she’d always looked out for you, grabbing extra medical supplies and candy when she went out on runs. She even went as far as bringing you a new stethoscope one time. You guessed she was the closest thing you had to a friend in the apocalypse.

“Good.” She walked over to the picnic table and picked up a thermos full of piping hot coffee. Despite the sticky heat that surrounded you both, she pursed her lips around the metal lid, blowing on the black liquid to cool it down. Taking a tentative sip, she smiled as the jolt of caffeine rushed through her veins, offering some to you in return.

You took the gift from your friend, hoping it would keep you awake long enough to avoid your bed until your sister’s words left your memory. ‘I’m surprised you remembered how to spread your legs at all’ … unbelievable! The coffee was bitter, and no help in washing away those awfully fresh memories. Maybe what you needed was a stronger drink, something with alcohol in it.

“Simon said he couldn’t find your family at Hilltop; they just got back.” Laura took her thermos back from you, sipping again before placing it gently on the picnic table.

“Thanks,” you replied somberly, knowing of only one other community they could be at. “Hopefully they find them soon.” You lied through your teeth, even to Laura whose kindness set her apart from the rest of the Saviors. You’d take your peace of mind any way you could get it.

“Negan will probably search The Kingdom tomorrow. He sounded pretty pissed that Simon didn’t bring them back tonight.” She leaned her back against the table.

“Yeah, I figured he would go there first,” you whispered, hoping he was miles away from any community Negan had on his radar.

Negan… Negan… oh shit, didn’t he say he was going to stop by tonight? Shouldn’t you be in your apartment graciously waiting for him to come over and…

“You should try to get some rest,” Laura interrupted your thoughts. “He’ll want you on your A-Game tomorrow.”

#negan #laura twd #negan x reader #negan fan fiction #the walking dead #twd fan fiction #negan's thirst squad

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