#pot kettle blah blah blah

[ltleflrt]

can i ask - what are you thoughts on the current anti-shipping phenomenon in fandom? I've recently gotten into SPN fandom and fallen in love with your fics, but the state of the fandom puzzles me a bit.

Anti-shipping is not a SPN fandom phenomenon, and maybe it seems to be a bigger deal to you because it's a bigger fandom? Wincest and Destiel shippers have been at war since episode 04x01 aired lol...we even have derogatory names for each other: Wincels and Hellers.

(Jokes on the Wincels, because Heller is a fucking awesome name.)

(Wincestiel shippers are fandom unicorns, and they deserve love and respect.)

I've only been involved in fandom since 2011, so most of what I know about anti-shippers comes from piles and piles of posts talking about fandom history, but the gist of it is that this is not current, it is ongoing since the dawn of fandoms, we just have names for it now. Think about Spirk back in the 60s...there were lots of rabid fangirls who saw nothing romantic between them too. We just don't hear as much about them, because they lost their fandom war lol

It's just really loud right now with the rise of conservatism, fascism, and terfs. And social media amplifies all of the above.

Anyway, my thoughts on anti-shippers is that they need to grow up and mind their own business. I am a pro-shipper, which means I believe that anyone has the right to love any ship, no matter how problematic, no matter how much it squicks me out. I believe everyone should be allowed to read whatever vile smut they want, because thought crimes are not real.

Unless a real person is being hurt, have fun.

Antis claim that problematic ships and kinks hurt people, but I think it's important to understand that there's a big difference between accidental and deliberate harm. And harm mitigation is highly important in a world with 7+ billion people and 7+ billion different lived experiences.

If an anti-shipper is hurt by a ship they don't like, they need to learn how to block and filter content so they don't see it, and on the opposite side of that, the vile shippers/kinksters need to tag their nonsense so that they're not accidentally burning someone's eyes out. Which most people ARE kind enough to do. They sit around in their little ficcing circles and cackle over the evil things they're putting their blorbos through, and they put up warning signs, but the antis come barging in to bug them anyway.

In my opinion, many antis are big fucking bullies and do a lot more harm than they claim to try and prevent, and they can all go fuck themselves with something hard and sandpapery.

So uh... yeah, that's how I feel about it 😁

(okay actually I'm not done, there's a lot of anti-shipping discourse about age gaps and what counts as incest that are just... really fucking stupid, and I honestly believe that shit started out because people were grasping for straws to justify why their ship is better than the ship they don't like. unfortunately, the youngins have been soaking up that moral purity language as Objective Truth because they're little sponges. i hope they outgrow that bullshit eventually. i will forgive and forget if they leave behind their purity police badges.)

[scarletfasinera]

My sister can't order her own food and can't go anywhere in public by herself without me there with her acting as her own personal guard dog, and yet she makes fun of ME for being asocial.

[fangsforfags]

i think wanting to kill urself is not something u shld be feeling everyday

[nyaagolor]

I saw you talking about ace attorney teapots in the replies of some post and I am curious, I would ask more specifically but I don't know that much about AA.

ok so admittedly that was partially hyperbolic, there's only one teapot in the AA series I can actually make character references from (which I elaborated on here), the others give information that's a little more basic. Kristoph has a deft blue china set in his cell, which reaffirms what we already know (namely that he's a classy, wealthy europhile), while all the (numerous) tea sets in DGS serve more to establish cultural things than explicit character motivations

All the british characters have relatively simple glazed teapots as would be typical at the time, while the japanese characters have tetsubins-- these aren't teapots (as in, you wouldn't put the leaves in them) but cast iron kettles that you boil water in. There's a whole theory about how cast iron was used in Japan because Japanese water is incredibly soft (aka low mineral content) and the iron leeching into the water from the tea draws out different notes when it reacts with the chemicals in the tea leaves themselves and blah blah blah I won't bore you with that here. Anyway, the shapes of these teapots are very distinct and I thought it was a cute detail because it shows you exactly who lives in the house with a single glance

the most fun one, though, is Susato's matcha set. Susato is explicitly based off the yamato nadeshiko (an ideal woman, basically) so the inclusion of her cute lil matcha set just contributes to that concept. Making matcha for a tea ceremony requires extraordinary levels of skill and she has all the tools to do that, including a small furnace? In the middle of the office floor????? susato sweetie I think that's a fire hazard

So something relevant about green tea is that unlike basically every other tea type, which can handle boiling water, green tea will be "burnt" and taste icky if you try and brew it in boiling water. Japan is famous for its green tea culture, and matcha is a part of that, so there's always something in the tea ceremony to control the temperature of the water. That box in the middle is a full on charcoal stove, on top of which is a cast iron pot that holds the water and a hishaku (the ladle looking thing) which ensures you have the right amount of water and that it's sufficiently cooled when it hits the powder. On the adjacent tray there's a chasen (whisk) and chawan (bowl) both of which you would use for making the tea itself. Often times you'll also have a chasaku (j-shaped measuring stick for the powder itself) but I'm gonna assume that's out of sight or with the matcha powder. Cannot stress enough that for her to have this equipment and know how to use it is a pretty obvious display of education and wealth-- which combined with the tetsubin (stated to be hers) and the traditional japanese calligraphy set on her desk just adds more fuel to the idea that she was classically trained in lots of cultural arts. Classy lady :)

[admirableadmiranda]

Just thought I should share, the one person that argued with me came back to argue more. Their whole thing was that my point wasn't what you guys were actually saying, and that I was just back peddling more, blah blah blah. And then it just struck me. I'm using JC stan talking points of "ignore their words and actions, look at the deeper meaning behind it all" and they are using your guy's argument of "but that's not what the actual text that they wrote said." This is kinda a pot meets kettle situation, but overall I think it just goes to show that if JC was an actual person and not a purple fantasy man they would hate him since they don't actually seem to be able to practice what they preach in regards to looking for deeper meaning behind people's seemingly rude actions. As far as they're concerned I'm an anti instead of a neutral party that watched everything go down in real time. Doesn't matter how many times I repeat that literal book quotes got people hate messages, I'm just one of you guys that want to bash JC despite never posting anything before the tag was invaded. If I'm going to be lumped in with a group though at least it's the one that can see the humor in these kinds of parallels.

It is definitely an interesting and humorous level of irony that we are essentially having to use each other's arguments. And I am sorry that you got dragged into this when you really were a neutral party pointing out events that went down.

I went and looked at your debates with the person involved and I think that you were very reasonable despite them being jerks to you. I'm quite impressed with the points that you've made in fact, especially pointing out that them flooding the tag with ship content is also not canon, as it frequently involves Jiang Cheng being shipped with characters he has little to no interaction with. Is there no respect for him chasing the clan leader who's regard and alliance he most wants; Jin Guangshan? Where are the fics with those two?? /j

I admire your fortitude in dealing with people who refuse to ever consider that they are in the wrong despite all evidence to the contrary.

(also while I know the poster will never see it, as the "creator" of the tag, why does it matter to you so much what tag name I put it under? You and your ilk wouldn't let me use the appropriate tag despite the amount of fandoms that are completely cognizant that a character tag is not always positive when it comes to antagonists, so I made a tag that you could block and not have to deal with the fact that Jiang Cheng does in fact lead a siege to kill fifty innocent people up on a mountain who had never done anything to him, torture Wei Wuxian with his greatest fear, be homophobic and slut-shaming towards another person who has done nothing to him besides not like him, and other glorious things like strangling, torture and murder that even he is quite happy to point out that he's done in his own narrative scenes. This is my tag, I will continue to post my content in it, so make like your favorite character and grow the fuck up and move on.)

Seriously, Jiang Cheng is more mature than most of these people; he actually stopped fighting a losing battle and decided to move on with his life.

[queenvernage]

blah blah blah pot... blah blah blah kettle... (insert aggressive eye roll here)

(also... is keitarou no longer blonde??? i thought the old keitarou couldn't come to the phone bc he was dead?)

[satoruluvies]

🫁 hello friend! hope you’re doing well <3 me personally? putting off the assignment i have a 25% reduction on due to late penalties (i have 24 more hours to hand it in without just failing it). thankfully, it’s the second to last of all my due assignments so i’m feeling pretty swell otherwise lmao

anywhos i love love loved the most recent fic !! i think you and fluff are like bread and butter ,,, pot and kettle, if you will. my fav parts? you’ll never guess. nanami kento and getou suguru. 

nanami kento!! fun fact but he completely ruined my spotify wrapped last year bc i streamed whatta man by salt-n-pepa for i think it was 3000 minutes total because it reminded me of him. but my goodness he’s so sappy when he’s in love it makes me want to vom. “i’m certainly not but we all make exceptions for someone don’t we” hello???? he’s just gonna drop that one and move on??? wth. what the actual hell.

suguru is for last because oml that man takes my breath away. “oh you do? i never noticed” i love that mans attitude so much. “say it again for me?” “one more time just once” you are SO not slick. i don’t even have words tbh. i love your suguru so so much !! i really want to write this eulogy of blah blah suguru playing so confident when a part of him is always going to be worried about your feelings towards him blah blah he’s so inherently romantic something something about needing him in bed with me rn. suguru the man that you are. i’ve said this before but i truly love the way you establish a dynamic between the character and the reader that is all distinct from each other and suguru & reader and toji & reader are easily my fav ones. what does that say about me? Idk.

also this isn’t related but i’m so pleased to hear you like apples as a tried and true apple lover. i love apples. i’m pretty into baking (minus the disaster that was 45 minutes ago … made the icing wrong started piping it and it looked like actual shit and then i tasted it and realised i’d somehow used the wrong sugar. embarrassing.) so i am constantly making apple things. apple crumble, apple muffins, apple pie … my breakfast is apple or apple and pancakes or apple and porridge or apple and banana and porridge or apple and yoghurt and muesli … i also go crazy for apples as symbolism. can you blame me. it’s so embarrassing bc you’re buying groceries and i always have to wince at the prices because apples are expensive here and yes i am always buying the nicest ones available </3

please ignore how disjointed this all is friend! i am not at the top of my game rn. my cats tried to eat the poorly made icing and i ended up nearly tripping and somehow got some on my foot. fun times.

lung anon omfg your works are never ending i swear are you okay are you good-

personally i thought i suck at fluff bc my mind always turns it into angst somehow but you think... im good... at fluff... im banging my palms on the table and screeching why don't We recreate the fluff how about that would you like that because i would. you spoil me i sweaourr

apples might be one of my favourite fruits as well but you're right it's soooo expensive and the decently priced ones are dry and does not even taste like apples honestly. in this economy, apples are a luxury, Fruits! are a luxury. on my desperate days i settle for apple juice bc that's somehow more affordable than the fruit itself :""

and you're a cat parent omfg let's get married alr

[glacialswordsman]

It isn't often that Diluc is one to read the newspaper, but...

Well, one of the patrons left one behind earlier in the day and never came back for it. He may as well. So it goes that he's flipping through it during a particularly quiet part of the night, stuck behind the counter as he focuses upon a passage from Fontaine, and the accompanying image of a certain Warden.

His eyes are glued to the page as he holds it closer to his face, brows furrowed in deep concentration. When Kaeya speaks up to grab his attention, his voice hardly registers for a beat or three -- after which Diluc looks up at long last, face flushed with the embarrassment of being caught ogling.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

( Happy pride month! Your brother is a flaming homosexual. 😘 )

“—and he had the absolute gall to bite my arm, Lulu! What kind of feral man would do that?! Like, honestly, if you’re visiting Mondstadt and there’s something sketchy about you, of course I’m going to try and figure out if you’re a threat! Oh, and don’t even get me started on the consultant from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. That damn old man may be drop-dead gorgeous but he can also be so infuriating! There’s something different about him, I just know it!”

Unfortunately for Diluc, Kaeya was now officially off duty for the night, and that meant he had been hanging out in the Angel’s Share ever since he knew his brother would be starting his shift. What better way to spend his time with his brother than by complaining about all the men in his life? He never once complained about Lumine—well. No, that was a lie. He complained about her all the time when they first met, going on a tangent on how he knew she was wearing masks and she was a liar, blah-blah-blah. Pot calling the kettle black, as you know.

However, he eventually realized his darling brother was not listening to him. In fact, he seemed to be rather engrossed in the newspaper for some strange reason. It made him pause in his tangent and instead look at the older man with a quirked brow, waiting for him to notice him. Only when the other finally remembered his little brother was here, pouring his heart out, did Kaeya’s expression shift to petulance. Although, seeing the other’s face get so red…

Hmm.

“Honestly, Lulu, you can’t even spare a few minutes for your dear little brother? What has you so distracted that you weren’t listening to me?” he inquired, leaning his cheek boredly on his palm. He made no sudden movements…not until a few seconds later when he snatched the newspaper out of Diluc’s hands.

Straightening the papers, he looked through the articles, crossing one leg over the other—until he noticed a particular headline and photo.

“… Oh. Oh, Lulu, don’t tell me… The Duke of Meropide?” he chimed in utter glee, giving the older man a shit-eating, devious grin.

[furiousmoneysuitcaseturtle]

I don't understand why there's so much porn of deku, he's ugly as fuck (pot, kettle, blah blah, yeah but no one's making porn of me)

On that topic, why are there so many pedos into naruto these days... I remember before boruto, the odd pre shippuden pedo ass shit would only scar your eyes every once in a while, now every naruto porn site is 70% boruto or sarada, it's sick fucking shit. Can't even get a nice pic of those tsunade titties anymore cause I don't wanna have to see that shit

[necrofuturism]

there is so much Wrong with this movie lmao it’s hilarious

however i’m enjoying the references to Roman design like that’s cool and context-y

why the fuck is Vortigern here tho lmao ur supposed to be dead

[saikyo-rat]

Blanka hated the cold weather. He hated how the snow made him feel cold and soggy and how the wind nipped at his face. “Jungle has no snow jungle nice and warm.” He complained as he walked thorough the cold snowy path. He just wanted to go some place warm and cozy. He then saw a place for him to stay for a little bit. He walked up to it and entered the building. Meanwhile Dan Hibiki was hanging out in his dojo and making himself a pot of tea. “I’m not going out in this weather.” Said Dan placing the kettle on the stove. He then saw blanka enter the place. “Oh Jimmy I wasn’t expecting you to come over.”

He said before closing the door to keep the cold air from coming in. “Snow cold snow wet hate it.” Said blanka shivering a little bit. “I’ll help you get dried and warmed up.” Said Dan Hibiki grabbing some towels and blankets. He used the towels to dry the dripping wet melting snow and ice off him. He then placed the blankets on top of him and give him some tea. “That should help you warm up.” He then offered him a sweater and hot water bottle. “I made it for you Jimmy.” Said Dan handing the sweater over to blanka. He put the sweater on and blushed a little in embarrassment.

He then grabbed the hot water bottle from Dan. Dan Hibiki watched as blanka yawned and fell asleep. He kissed him and said. “Good night Jimmy.” Before getting ready for bed. Knowing that his best friend was all warm and cozy. The next morning Dan Hibiki woke up to the sound of sneezing and coughing. He got up and went up to blanka. “Feel awful Dan.” Was all he could say. He then sniffled a few times before feeling like he had to sneeze again. This time however the sneeze didn’t seem to come out. Dan Hibiki noticed that he was dealing with a stuck sneeze and decided to help him out. He grabbed a box of tissues and twisted the corner of one of them. He then placed the tissue into blanka’s nostril and move it around. “Eh....tickles......heh.”

Said blanka not sure what Dan was doing. He felt like the sneeze was finally coming out. He hitched a few times before letting it all out. “EEEHHHSSHHHOOO!!!!” He sneezed spray snot and spit on over Dan Hibiki. He then rubbed his nose a bit with his finger. Dan grabbed another tissue and put it against his face. “Here blow.” Said Dan to blanka as he sniffed a few times. He blew into the tissue that Dan was holding. He then coughed a few times before sneezing again. “I think you caught a cold.” Said Dan feeling blanka’s forehead. “You feel like you have a fever.” He then said as blanka curled up into a ball.

He decided to make him some soup and give him some medicine. He set up the ingredients for the soup and began to prepare it. Later blanka was woken up by him gently shaking him. “I made you some soup.” Said Dan offering him a spoonful. Blanka opened his mouth and allowed him to place the spoon in there. He wasn’t feeling very hungry so he was only able to have a few spoonfuls of soup. Dan then gave him a pill with a glass of water. He took the pill and gulped it down with some water. “Blah!” He said in disgust before falling asleep again. Dan Hibiki snuggled up to him and fell asleep as well. (The end)

[teacup-crow]

The Christmas Runner

On the 12th Christmas Eve after the world ended, Molly and Carena told someone the story of the Christmas Runner. Major end of S3 spoilers, very minor spoilers for early S5. 

I spent all day in bed and this happened? Will probably go on AO3 once I polish it (and when it’s actually close to Christmas). Promise it’s wholesome!

(In my headcanon here Carena is 15, Molly is 13 and Sara is 7)

“Sam’s givin’ you how much to watch her?” Carena Skeet spluttered, towering over the younger girl, leaning her hands over her head on the brick wall of the housing block. The moon was a sharpened, thin crescent, and lights winked in the guard towers. Over in the main barn, they could faintly hear the twanging of a slightly out-of-tune guitar and some tipsy singing, suggesting the grown-ups’ Christmas Eve party was already in full swing.

Everyone said that Molly Harrison was the prettiest girl in Abel, with blonde curly hair and eyes blue enough to knock out zoms, but right now she was shifting foot-to-foot, looking more irritated than anything else.

“A loaf of crusty bread and a pot of blackcurrant jam, and… you’re not having any of it, Caz.”

“Dr Cohen only promised me a bloody book!” Carena pouted, but avoided stomping her foot. She’d about grown out of that. Nobody would dare call her pretty, but she was too, in a fiercely intimidating way. It was two months until she turned sixteen and could finally start Runner training, and she’d already begun practicing first thing every morning, tearing around the training shed when the sun had barely risen. Where Molly was soft and homely, she was angled and muscular. “You can read it if you let me have a spoonful.”

“That’s a rubbish trade and you know it! I won’t always go along with everything you tell me to do, you know, it’s not fair-“

“Oh blah blah blah, quit whinin’, let’s just get the job done before they realise they double-booked.” She dropped her hands and stalked away. Her foster dad’s old fireman jacket was too big on her, but wearing the king’s clothing added to her swagger.

“You don’t like kids,” Molly pointed out, stumbling a little behind her as she strode off to the front door.

“Kids is fine. Kids is kids. I have, like, fifteen siblings. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, and you don’t like any of them. And they’re all the same age as you!”

“What can I say, I’m not good at sharing.” She turned and gazed pointedly at Molly, who shrugged it off. “It doesn’t take two people to babysit a seven year old.”

“Yeah, so go away, Caz. You don’t even want a book.”

“Gotta get on Dr Myers’ and Sam’s good side if I want to be recommended for Runner, don’t I? Janine respects their opinion more than anyone else except Runner Five.”

“So go and sit on guard duty with Runner Five and earn their approval.”

“You jokin’? Five’s batshit.”

“They’re also the only reason we’re not dead, so maybe you should be a bit more respectful.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t try to tell me what to do, Molly Harrison...” Carena’s tone was affronted, teetering on nasty. Then she stopped herself. “But yeah, you’re right. Five’s batshit bonkers, but they’re awesome.”

“And scary?” Molly added.

“Yeah, if you’re a wuss.”

They’d reached the green wooden door of Maxine and Paula’s apartment, a wreath on the outside, a menorah in the window. Sara had hung paper chains all down their part of the corridor. It made both the teenagers smile for a second or two.

Carena knocked, to no reply. She tried again. 

“That’s weird,” she muttered.

“Sara, you in there?” Molly tried, peeking through the window. 

“Sara, we brought chocolate!”

This caused a patter of feet to charge towards the door. Carena grinned. “First rule of kids is lie through your teeth.”

“MOLLY!” Sara sprang through the door in a bright blur of red sweater and green trousers, and jumped into Molly’s outstretched arms. “Did you bring Galileo too?”

Years before, when Archie Jensen had lost Mildred van der Graff to an explosion, Five had managed to get their own chicken back to Abel relatively unscathed. Molly, already interested in animals even as a small child, had adopted Galileo Figaro, a now-geriatric menace with a beak that had lasted longer than anyone expected. The hen had strong memories of her dinosaur roots, and, apart from Molly, Five and Sara, would attack almost anyone who dared enter the coop.

“Galileo’s an old hen, she’s resting.”

“She went cluck-cluck-cluck over the rainbow bridge to Ed Harrison’s stomach, you mean.”

“Caz! Dad would never!” Molly looked scandalised as Carena burst out laughing at her own joke. Thankfully, it went over Sara’s head as she dropped down from Molly’s arms and stared up at Carena’s jacket in awe. Caz ruffled her mop of springy hair affectionately. She liked this kid, at least. It was very difficult not to.

“Hello, baby Sara, how’s it goin’?”

“Good, Princess Caz! I’m making a jigsaw puzzle. It’s got a million trillion pieces!”

“Sounds like an absolute riot. Tell you what, Molly can finish it with you and I’ll heat up the rations.”

Molly nodded despite herself, taking the pudgy little hand in hers and stepping into the cosy apartment. “Okay, let’s go, hopefully we have all the pieces...”

“Daddy had to remake some of the missing ones but he said you can barely tell the difference, sort of! Anyway, you said you had chocolate?”

This was still one of the oldest housing blocks in Abel, but instead of enough bunks for eight people the two rooms comfortably housed the little family of three, bathroom splitting a bedroom on one side and a family room on the other with a table and a bookshelf and warm candle-lit lamps too high for Sara to knock over on the mantelpiece. Woollen throws covered the kind of battered armchairs you sank into and artwork lined the walls. There was even a tidy kitchen corner with a kettle and a camp stove and a stack of chipped plates and mugs. It was one of Carena’s favourite places: better even than sharing a room with some of the roller girls on a rare trip to see her foster dad in London; much better than her own springy bunk in the children’s dorms, the wall behind her chequered curtain plastered in pictures and photos and plans but still not private enough to block out the whining and crying of the little ones all night. It was nice to see a place where a real family lived. When she stood in the centre of the room, she could squeeze her eyes shut and almost picture the faces of her real parents, her actual bedroom, the kitchen they’d had with a white-tiled floor. Or was it sand-coloured tiles? She wasn’t quite sure, not that she’d admit it. Whenever anyone asked, she always said she remembered the pre-zombie world perfectly.

“Caz? Are you heating up the food or...?”

“I’m getting to it!” She stomped towards the stove, where Sara’s parents had already left a few crumbling Tupperware containers of pea soup from the kitchens, and Molly had brought a bowl of eggs to hard boil if they felt snacky. Not particularly inspiring, but then food had been limited for the last week as the kitchens saved all their supplies up for Christmas Day. And none of them knew how to be fussy: Sara and Molly did not remember a time when food was plentiful, and Carena’s last remnants of pickiness had been starved out of her when the Ministry occupied Abel. She’d been nine, and her stomach hadn’t stopped rumbling for that whole terrible ten months. It ached again a little just thinking about it. She wondered if that had left her weaker, permanently damaged her chance to become a Runner or a roller-girl. As if her asthma wasn’t enough of a handicap. Well, she’d do it anyway. Nothing was going to get in her way, least of all the legacy of those who had hurt her foster father. 

“Three bowls of green soup, coming up!” She added a lick of salt, and stirred the metal pot. The ruckus from the square was louder now, almost matched by the younger girls playing with the puzzle behind her.

“I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a man’s face or a rat.”

“Daddy’s not a very good draw-er.”

“I mean… he could use some practice, to be honest. Any clue on where this piece should fit, Caz?”

Carena doled out the bowls and spoons. “Looks like a squiggle with earmuffs to me. Sam’s crap at art.”

“Don’t swear in front of Sara!”

“She’ll be fiiiine,” Carena rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, Molly.”

“Yeah, lighten up, Molly!” Sara echoed jubilantly. “Crap, crap, crap.”

“Okay, you can cut it out now. Eat your dinner.”

Molly changed the subject, sensing another mischievous outburst of swearing on the horizon. “Are you excited for Christmas, Sara?”

“Yeah! Did you hear that we’re going to have a hog roast and potatoes?! And games! And, and, Ms Marsh knitted me a hat and mittens!”

“How do you know about that?” Molly admonished. Sara immediately looked caught in the act.

“I… maybe heard her and Mama talking about it.”

“Did you ‘maybe hear’ or were you spying on your Mama?”

“I wasn’t spying! People just think kids can’t hear stuff!”

“Hey, spyin’ is a great skill, don’t knock it, Mol. Don’t worry, we won’t tell.”

“I wasn’t spying!” Sara drank down the last of her soup, licked the bowl, and pouted adorably. It was hard for the babysitters not to laugh.

“You know, I think that piece might actually be a clockwork mouse. I think it goes down at the bottom…”

They finished the jigsaw with only four missing pieces. “It’s… a big man in a red coat with a white beard! With lots of toys. I’m going to call him Mr Bob.”

“Sara, that’s Santa. Do you not know about Santa?”

“Father Christmas?” Molly tried, although she wasn’t completely confident either. Sara looked blank.

“You know my father is called Sam Yao?”

“No, baby, Santa Claus is different. He brings things to good children at Christmas.” In the back of her mind was an image of Ed in a terribly cobbled together Santa suit, a tiny Molly on his shoulders. A good memory in a flock of bad ones. It twinged in her chest.

“He’s a Runner?”

Carena sighed. “Basically. Yeah. Santa Claus is just another name for the Christmas Runner. Every Christmas Eve, he goes from township to township, leaving gifts for all of the children.”

“How does he get through the gates?”

“Well, duh, he lets the township leaders know what time he’s going to come on Rofflenet first. And he’s really fast, so he doesn’t need to worry about Raiders or zoms. He’s got a big sled drawn by nine dogs for all the presents!”

Sara’s eyes sparkled. “What are the dogs called?”

“Well, the main one is Rudolf, and he’s an, an Irish red setter. Or he wears a red jumper, like you. Something to do with red. The other ones…” she looked to Molly for assistance, and realised the blonde girl was just as enraptured. “The other ones aren’t important.”

“Caz!”

“Fine! Dasher, Dancer, Prancer… Victor?” 

Her mind drew a complete blank. Somewhere in her subconscious, a woman’s voice read the words of Twas the Night Before Christmas, but she couldn’t quite make them out. “Um… Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh and Spam?”

Molly snorted in surprise, her face contorting and shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back a peal of laughter. At least Sara seemed satisfied. “Okay, so how come I don’t hear them all?”

“He sneaks in with magic and only when you’re extremely tired so it’s, like, impossible to stay up to hear. But if you leave a sock on the end of your bed he’s guaranteed to put sommat cool in it.”

“How will he know what I like?”

Molly looked thoughtful. “Maybe you should leave him a list? But you like a lot of things.”

“And my socks are quite small.” Sara looked pensive, kicking her feet in the air to check the size of them. “You two should write lists as well!”

“I’m too old to write one-“ Carena tried, but Sara was already insistently jabbing a pencil and an old receipt at her from a scrap paper drawer in the cabinet.

“These big long lists from the olden days are perfect, we can use the back.”

Carena’s eyes flitted over the receipt. Morrisons. Mango, papaya, hummus, avocadoes. All words she didn’t recognise, foods she would never get to try, and, suddenly intimidated, she laid it down on the table. She wasn’t the strongest reader or writer at the best of times - she’d learned too late, and it was difficult with so many new things in a row. Sara sounded out the letters on her own list as she wrote, her reading already confident.

“Dear Christmas Runner. Thank you for all your hard work, and for taking so many risks to deliver presents…”

Molly glanced over at Carena with a dash of awkward concern. They’d shared a schoolroom as children, and again for the last few years, and had some of the same frustrations, although Molly struggled more with maths and numbers and the purpose and point of algebra and geometry than writing and words. “Can I write both of ours, and you do the pictures? Your drawings are really good.”

Carena nodded, and got up abruptly to wash out the pot and make some tea. Outside, the town choir had drummed up enough numbers to give a few carols a go. She cracked open the window a little to let the sound filter up. 

“I would really like some bubblegum but I know it is hard to find and my mothers don’t like it so don’t worry if you can’t find any. I also like marbles and you can fit lots of them in a sock!”

“You’re already running out of space!”

“Okay. Lots of love from Sara Myers-Cohen-Yao, kiss kiss kiss! What are you going to ask for?”

“Nicer soap,” Molly said, quite serious. “And I need a new metal bucket for chicken feed and milking. Mine is close to holes.”

“A bucket won’t fit in a sock!” Sara scoffed with childish mirth. “That’s ridiculous!”

“I don’t know, she has really big feet.” This made Sara giggle even more, and slide off the chair to look at Molly’s feet more closely.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Molly gave Carena a mock-withering stare. “What do you want, Caz? I’m doing yours now.”

Carena thought as the water began to bubble. All she really wanted was to be a Runner. To explore. To get buckets and soap and marbles and gum and make faces back in the township light up. All she wanted was her lungs and airways to do as she commanded, her muscles and heart to work with her, to let her push past exhaustion. 

“Eh. Shoelaces would be nice.” She smirked at Molly. “Or some chicken fat.”

“Make one more threat to my chicken’s life, Carena Skeet and you won’t be getting anything from the Christmas Runner!” 

“I surrender, I surrender!” Carena laughed, and poured the tea. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be in bed by now, Sara? If we’re going to get this Runner to come at all.”

“But I’m not even tired,” the small girl yawned, still on the floor with her head on the chair and cuddling one of the throws her mothers had stacked on the sideboard. 

Molly grabbed the rest of them. “Come on, we’ll build a blanket den, have our tea in there, and Caz can tell you more about the Christmas Runner.”

“Startin’ to feel like Caz does all the work around here,” Carena added, stirring in milk and honey and using the puzzle box as a makeshift tea-tray. “Go on then, lead the way.”

Five minutes later, they’d constructed a large blanket fort and, huddled together inside it, Carena began to tell them everything she remembered from the world before, embellishing the odd detail or ten.

“You’re lying, there were no flying snowmen.”

“Well, I saw a film about them!”

Eventually, Sara curled up and fell asleep, thumb in her mouth, dreaming up a jumble of tinsel and angels and dancing snowmen and turkeys.

Molly smiled, sleepy herself. “You know, you’re actually really good with kids.”

“You’re actually good at lightenin’ up.”

“Yeah! This was fun. I had a really nice evening.”

“Molly…” Carena began, and stopped. She tucked Sara’s blankets around her a little tighter. She didn’t know how to say how safe she felt, maybe for the first time since she lost her brother, warm and wanted and hopeful, surrounded by the peace she wanted so badly to fight for. “I think tomorrow is gonna be a really good day.”

The bell in the square jangled once, twice, twelve times and for once they didn’t panic. It had been years since a horde went anywhere near the gates. This was midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Caz.”

“Merry Christmas.”

***

Carena awoke under a pile of blankets, her head on the end of Sara’s bed, the sound of Dr Cohen humming in the kitchen as she fried the eggs for breakfast, and caught three bulging stockings out of the corner of her eye. A lump came to her throat as she saw the book, as promised, bound in ribbon, that she recognised even without reading the words.

The Abel Runner’s Handbook, fourth ed.

She nearly knocked the wind out of the doctors in her rush to hug them.

[alisonjdrvke]

《 ABOUT ―

ALIAS: Alison Joy Drake

BIRTHDATE & AGE: July 4th| 27

AFFILIATION: Civilian | Hostess at Purgatory Nightclub

FACECLAIM: Halston Sage 

《 INTRO - ish ―

Born and raised in New York. Product of divorcee parents who only got married because of their first daughter, stayed together because of their second, and split after their third, who, you guessed it ! Was Allie. Ten points to anyone who can guess Al’s judgement on marriage. 

Her and her sisters ended up living with their mom up in Queens for a time while their dad went off to marry a younger woman who he met at the hospital where Allie was born. Allie’s never met that woman before but she does vaguely remember the string of boyfriends her mom used to housed in the tiny 3 bedroom apartment they shared and the fight her parents had when her father found out her mom was using checks sent for the girls on stuff like $500 dollar leather jackets for the guy who took her out for coffee twice because he said she looked like an edgy Grace Kelly, or paying her last ex’s rent bill because he realllllllly needed the money. Her sisters definitely have a better relationship with their mom than Allie since they’ve been around for their parents during their marriage and could give her the benefit of the doubt about things while Al got the short end of the stick and got only the worst bits. 

One of the earliest memories Allie can remember is piling into a sleek car with her sisters and watching her mom wave down to them from their apartment, her new boyfriend ( this time the guy was health guru, short, and blew smoke rings over the kitchen table ) with his arm around her frail shoulders. Her mom had gotten into fortune telling at the time and was wearing one of those velvet shawls and smoking a cigarette while Allie’s dad yelled bad things about how he should have never married that woman for x and y reasons, blah blah. By now he was already his third wife. Pots, kettles. All black.

Now, while Allie might have been young, she was still aware of the fact that she and her sisters had been living cramped in an apartment building that was ancient. Three girls varying in ages in one room while her mom turned the spare into spaces that would change from arts n’ crafts, to pottery, to a writing station, to a place that needed to be deemed spiritual for clients she liked to weasel out of quick money. Her dad, however, lived in a three story brownstone on the Upper East Side and with clean marble in the foyer and rooms big enough for each of the girls to call their own. Allie couldn’t tell what was more annoying. Her mom for letting them live like that on purpose or her dad never mentioning for six years of her life that he lived well enough to have taken them at any time before things even got bad. 

Life was changing quickly. They had been enrolled into a new school, placed in sports that fit their personality, and were paraded like dolls in fluffy dresses like cake toppers. Rosy cheeked and smoothed skin. Polo shirts and tennis whites. Reared mostly by nannies and au pairs. By time Allie had turned thirteen, she had only seen her mom a handful of times. She never went to Allie’s shows down by the ice rink, or showed up for birthdays, but liked coming around for Christmas since the girls always begged ‘ Santa ’. By the time her oldest sister went to college, Allie wouldn’t have been able to tell you when the next time was. 

 She had focused the next few years into the sport she loves. Anyone who knew her knew to find her down by the local ice rink constantly practicing, twirling and gliding like a fairy on thin ice demanding the attention of anyone who watched. Always trying to outdo herself because it was really the only thing that kept her sane while her family Did Their Shit. Only after a really big fight with her father over the sport in general ( he thought of it more as a hobby, Allie knew she was talented enough for it not to be considered that ) she purposely threw herself down on the ice during a move because she was so angry and tore her MCL since it was such a hobby. Landed her off the ice for almost two years, right as she was ready to graduate high school and fully pissed her father off for embarrassing him like that. 

Obviously that’s one of her biggest regrets. It did kill her not to be able to continue something she’s loved for years to keep her sane, but when someone’s not listening to her when she’s trying to explain she will find a way for you to listen one way or another, regardless of the outcome to herself. Gal works in extremes, let me tell you. This essentially was how she managed to move from New York to Illinois. She got accepted into school here once she decided that she couldn’t stay anywhere remotely close to the East Coast. She only flew back to the city when the time called for it, and then eventually ended up staying when she realized her mental health was a lot better here with the people she’s met and loved and actually considers her family vs people who liked to play  pretend and then go back into screaming matches.

She Coyote Ugly’d herself at a couple of bars before working at Purgatory and that truly was just as exciting as skating, just less intense and no rhinestone dresses. Allie lives for attention thanks to growing up with a lack of it. 

《 CONNECTIONS ―

tba. but in the meantime, if you have a character who happened to be in NY at any point I will throw Allie your way. 

[skullsnsunbeams]

Please enjoy part 2 my commentary of Outer Banks (you can find part 1 here)! Disclaimer: I started this show because I wanted to see all the hype was; I won't lie, I thought it was dumb and cliche throughout most of it. However, since I've finished I can safely say that I NEED A SECOND SEASON BC HOLY FUCK BRO. Don't come at me for MY OPINIONS, & also, most of what I say is in the spur of the moment. If you wanna come talk to me about the show I will GLADLY DO SO.

Ep. 6

• I don't trust Ward, jot that down

• John B is gonna be blinded

• FUCK OFF WARD YOU'RE NOT SLICK

• I WANNA GO AAAAWWWWF

• But now John B is actually on the property so that might be beneficial?

• Lana said fuck the feds and I did too

• BARRY BETTER BEAT RAFE'S ASS

• It's what he deserves :)

• THE CURTAIN JUST MOVED AND KIE SAW IT

• FUCK YEAH KIE SLAP HIS ASS

• Did he just

• He just slapped her back

• MOSQUITOS MEAN WATER

• YUPPPP THERE WE GO POPE KNOWS

• This is deadass the goonies

• "You love the idea of me" YESSSSS SARAH

• YES WARD CHOKE HIS BITCHASS OUT

• "WHERE'S THE BEACH!?"

• It's actually not okay but okay

• Yes he DID say that

• Desgusten

• RAFE IS GONNA STEAL MONEY FROM HIS DAD AND JOHN B IS GONNA BE BLAMED

• AHAHAHAHAH CAUGHT EM

• I love Pope sm

• Adina is that bitch, man

• Barry's gonna get his ass beat by Ward

• I knew it

• THERE'S WARD'S SHORT FUSE

• RAFE YOUR DADDY IS A PSYCHO

• KARMA, BABY, KARMA

• They're gonna trap Sarah and Kie on the boat?

• That's a got damn STING

• Why are they holding the blunt like a cigarette?

• What a shitty fucking person you are, Sarah. That's fucked up.

• SHE CALLED THE COPS I'M CACKLING

• They're gonna get caught by the scary lady

• "Weed? I could go for some weed" same, JJ

• JJ and Pope being assholes about John B and Sarah is my aesthetic

• NO NO NO WHY HER EYES LOOK LIKE THAT

• She's blind, duh

• Gross gross gross

• He's gonna catch something

• Wait does Corona virus exist in the OBX universe?

• "Any dead bodies?" Does the jaw bone he found count?

• That's shit he's covered in shit THAT'S GOLD THAT'S FUCKING GOLD

• JANIE'S GOT A GUN

• This is so cute but I know it's gonna blow up in their faces

Ep. 7

• I hate Ward he's such a sneaky bastard

• He's gonna take him out to sea and MURDER HIM

• or at least, like, warn him

• HE'S SUCH A GOOD LIAR

• Our boy Barry, he's gonna stir some shit up

• I knew it, pretending to be a cop tho?

• John B is B'ing dumb again

• Maybe not

• JJ NOOO

• CRAIN ESTATE IS FOR SALE

• AND WARD IS GONNA BUY IT

• JJ just wants his dad's approval

• THAT'S FOR HIS RESTITUTION

• How did ik this was gonna happen

• I hate his dad

• ahhhhh I WANNA HUG HIIIIIM

• Sarah do be bailin

• She said FUCK VULNERABILITY and to that I say SAME

• Those candles are gonna cause a fire. Old church? The Outsiders vibes

• Did they not just say they were gonna wait? And then immediately fuck? Okay.

• He spent his restitution money. He did exactly what he fought his dad about.

• He needs a hug so bad

• Thank you for hugging him Kie

• GUESS WHO'S CRYING

• ME IT'S ME

• Mr. Cameron, sir, you are operating a motor vehicle whilst drinking. You're providing a minor with alcohol. You should not be the Grand Knight of Rhododendron!!!

• Ward is an eavesdropping little shitfuck

• Blah blah blah all I'm hearing is a rich man trying to get the gold

• "Equitable split" sir you Didn't Find The Gold therefore You Do Not Get A Cut

• FINALLY JOHN B IS BEING SMART

• WARD JUST SNITCHED ON HIMSELF

• WARD KNOWS ABOUT THE DISAPPEARANCE

• Well, son, the sheriff already kinda knows

• What's he gonna do

• THE GAFFING HOOK

Ep. 8

• Ward is literally psycho so that's fun

• WHAT IS THIS SHOW

• HE STOPPED THE HOOK WITH HIS CAST I'M DEEEAAAD

• This turned into Parasite all of a sudden

• And this right here, folks, is called anxiety

• I love GTA

• Ward is actually psychotic

• "Ward you just got involved" just like his daughter did

• Fuck HE KILLED HIM FUCK YOU WARD

• AND HE DIDN'T CALL ANYONE WHAT A CUUUUNT I'M SO MAD

• BIG JOHN IS A LEGEND

• Ow my heart 🥺

• Ward is a big fat liar!!!!!!

• Oh my god JOHN B GONE CRAZY

• Sarah really switched up like that, huh? Shady bitch

• Where's DCS throughout all of this?

• He's doin a lil memorial I'M SAAAAD

• Pope deserves better!!!

• The gold is gone, just watch

• YUP I KNEW IT

• FUCK YOU WARD

• I feel so bad for Pope's dad bc he's had to work hard too, man

• Going to the Bahamas?????????

• Fuck Rafe

• BLAH BLAH BLAH NO ONE LIKES YOUUUU

• Pope whhhyyyy are you telling these PEOPLE ABOUT THE GOLD

• Oh shiiiit Susan knows about OTHER dirty cops

• I hope the plane crashes :)

• WARD IS A PIECE OF SHIIIIIIT

• SUE YEEEES

• John B's nod should not have been sexy

• RAFE YOU SONOFABITCH

• LIKE FATHER LIKE SON!!!!!!!

Ep. 9

• WARD. IS. A. PSYCHO.

• HOW IRONIC THAT RAFE'S TRUCK HAS A BLUE LIVES MATTER FLAG ON THE BACK WINDOW RHSJDJDBDNDH

• Pope is finally letting it out and I'M SO GLAD FOR HIM

• I shouldn't be laughing about Shoupe complaining about the regulator

• Ward really is a psycho

• FUCK THE POLICE

• All teenagers want is their parents' approval and that makes me saaaaaad

• Why do I wanna hug Rafe rn

• HE'S LIKE, NEVER GOTTEN A HUG IN HIS LIFE BEFORE???????

• OW MY HEART

• When the main character becomes a fugitive with a bounty 🥰

• Sarah isn't gonna do shiiiiit

• "What's gonna happen to Rafe?" Nothing. Because he's a rich white boy who can get away with anything bc of his daddy's money and power.

• They better not do a cliff hanger and make us wait til next season

• Rafe is delusional

• "He's a maniac" Pot, meet kettle

• Whose house is this?

• How are you gonna tell him to get out of your house and then chase him when he's trying to leave

• Pope high is amazing

• AW MY BABY

• He deserves the world and more

• NO PLEASE DON'T CRRRRYYYYY

• Topper is gonna let John B go, isn't he?

• He really locked his daughter in her room like Rapunzel

• "Hey Top, hey man, it's John B, hey" HE'S SUCH A LOSER LMAOOOO

• "My bad" My bad!?!??

• They're arguing over what word to use

• This is kinda gay ngl

• THIS FAKE CRYING EJDBEUSHEH SARAH

• Wheezie better not fuck this up bro or I s2g

• TOPPER DEF LET JOHN B OUT I WILL HOLLER

• I think Rafe is gonna get shot

• I hate this

• THE VEEEEENT

• I love rooting for a criminal

• SNITCHES GETS STITCHES, BITCHES

• Topper is gonna switch up on the Kooks and actually help out I bet

• RAFE NEEDS TO BE INSTITUTIONALIZED EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY

• TOPPER IS WEARING THE HOODIE

• THAT'S HOW HE PROVED HIS LOVE FOR HERRR

Ep. 10

• Aw John B

• Pope said FUCK FEELINGS

• Tf is SBI

• State bureau of investigation, got it

• NO, WARD NEEDS TO BEAR RESPONSIBILITY BC IT IS. HIS. FAULT.

• "Idk how to fix it" kill yourself, easy

• Sell? You mean lie. Rich people logic amirite??

• RAFE HAS VOICES IN HIS HEAD HE'S GONE OFF THE DEEP END

• The officer better know the truth

• WARD IS A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR

• The SBI agent sees right through Ward

• I hate this bastard

• FUCK YEAH

• Rafe is TWEAKIN

• Barry to the rescue?

• "I done worse, I was in the army" LMAOOOO

• Nvm Barry is still trash

• TRASH STICKS WITH TRASH

• They're GONE occifer

• AND THE THUNDER ROOLLLLS

• My heart is hurting so bad rn

• Is he gonna give himself up rn?

• I hate when JJ cries

• AHHHHHHHH HIS EYES OPENED AND I GOT SCARED

• OW MY FUCKIN HEART

• Shoupe is a pussy ass bitch too

• Pause, smoke break

• Lessgo

• He's gonna wait for the keys to be close to the car

• CALLED IT

• That was *chef's kiss*

• This is not good

• YEEEEES POPE

• NOOOOOO POPE

• VENGEANCE

• Holy shit

• Okay I'm gonna say it

• This GOT GOOD

• NO MORE CLICHES

• Holy fuuuuck

• If we get a second season, I wanna see Rafe destroyed

• Woah okay

• JJ is third wheel

• This is crazy

• STOP WASTING TIME

• This is all funny bc these kids are 16 and they think they're in love

• I GASPED OMG

• What did this turn into

• There's a cliche!!!

• Holy fuckitnenehehe

• Fuck you Ward

• He's gonna do it

• Ewwww "I'd rather die than be without you"

• What in the ever living hell

• Fuck fuck fuck

• And JJ is left alone

• OH MY GOD IM CRYING

• Holy. Fucking. Shit.

[justjessame]

Put Me In Coach 7

After saying good night to my parents, who were surprisingly quiet and accepting about me wanting to ‘spend some time with Mr. Negan alone’ (I gag at the very nonsense of calling him that, but I’d kill to say ‘sir’ see his fists clench and my mom take note.), we got into his car and headed over. I had wanted to take my OWN car, but something in the way he’d looked at me told me that there was a motive behind the madness.

I had just buckled myself in, Negan beside me when I had to ask. “Why one car?” I watched him keep his focus straight ahead. Fuck. “Negan, why only one car?”

He sighed. “Your mother wanted to make sure that I would bring you home tonight.” He answered, side eyeing me. “Two cars meant, in her mind, that you’d fake out and call in a sleepover with Eric,” I saw his eyebrow raise at the theory that even a sleepover with Eric was better than one with him, “or Mary.”

Shit. It had been on my mind. Pack a bag, rush downstairs, tell Mom and Dad that after Negan’s I’d just hop over to Mary’s since it was further away and stay there. I even had the perfect reasoning for it. Mary lived closer to Negan’s. Damn that woman and her ability to close loopholes. That must have been why, when I’d moved to grab a bag, Negan had stopped me. Damn fuck shit.

“Ugh.” I groaned. And then I pouted. I wanted a FULL night with him. What’s the point of them knowing, if I was still being treated like a child. “I’m an adult, Negan, this is stupid.”

“You’re an adult, but you’re still their little girl, Amara.” He reached over to take my hand as he drove us to his place. “There’s a silver lining.” I glanced over at him and saw him shooting me a look with a grin. “This stipulation is ONLY until you walk across the stage and get your diploma.” I felt a smile tug at my lips. “If you hadn’t zoned out during dinner, you might have already known all that.” He rolled his eyes and I snorted.

“I’ve lived through more dinners with my parents than you’ll ever have to worry about, Negan.” I linked our fingers. “Trust me, you’ll zone out soon enough around them at dinnertime.” I smiled and brought his hand to my mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Besides, I was doing math. That should count for something.”

He laughed and I caught his eye again. “You were thinking dirty thoughts, princess.” I nodded and bit my lip. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

“Me fucking either.”

 Negan barely got the door closed before I was wrapped in his arms. “Now we’re in MY house, princess.” That clench of lust in my stomach hit and his mouth was on mine. Kissing Negan was almost enough to get me over the first hurdle of pleasure, ALMOST. “I think I made a promise in your room,” his breath fanned my lips. Another tightening. “Come here.” And then he was pulling me through his apartment to the bedroom.

He flicked the light switch and adjusted the light to the dimness he wanted. When his eyes met mine again, I was suddenly incredibly appreciative of the fact that we had the privacy his place afforded us. My room would have been a terrible idea, because when his fingertips met my skin, I couldn’t hold back any of the sounds that fought for freedom out of my mouth. And, when we finally came together, naked and on his completely decadent bed, over and over, I realized that I’d be counting down the days to graduation with more fervor than I’d ever considered before.

 The countdown began in earnest. Eric and Mary eyeballing me as Prom drew near. Like I was going to try that shit again.

“No.” I bit out, turning up my nose at Eric’s offer of a handful of his disgusting pickle flavored chips. “Does everything you put in your fucking mouth have to have phallic connotations?” He was grinning at me as he tossed one in his open mouth and made an indecent moan. “Ugh. Gross.”

“Was the ‘no’ for the chips, or because I asked if you wanted us to save you a seat in our limo?” Mary grinned, knowing my head was going to explode if I had to be asked this stupid fucking question one more time.

“Both.” I snapped, taking a drink of juice. “You both know that I’ve had my fucking fill of dances at this fucking hellhole.” They snickered. “And NO I don’t care that Prom,” I rolled my eyes and practically spit out the word, “is happening at the country club. I don’t go to THAT hellhole when Mom and Dad beg, why would I willingly go for this?”

“Didn’t Coach ask you?” Eric asked, putting on a pout. I glared at him. “Ah, come on, Amara, it’s NOT like you’re an ADULT or something.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking see what the big fucking deal is. Your parents know, they condone it,” I snorted. “OK, so they won’t let you have raunchy sleepovers with Coach Big Dick, but they aren’t having his ass arrested for ‘grooming you’.” I bit my lip wishing I hadn’t told his sorry ass about that. “Why can’t you fucking come?”

“I don’t think her ‘fucking cumming’ is an issue,” Mary offered with her own evil grin. “I mean, have you seen her AFTER she ‘updates his grade book’?” Shit, they were gonna kill me. “I kind of want to find a grade book of my own to update.” Dear fucking God. I laughed in spite of myself. “I’m not sure Coach wants to spend another night at ANOTHER school dance. He looked like murdering the entire group of kids was on his mind, when it wasn’t laser focused on killing Joe.”

I sighed at the memory of that night and the two weeks that led up to it. “How is Joe?” I asked, shooting Mary a look.

“Big and pea brained.” She offered with a shrug. “He was a ‘fun’ distraction.” Mary offered me a loaded look. “Not repeatable.” Yeah, that was Joe.

“Didn’t think you’d take him to the Prom.” I offered, and she grinned. “Steven is still on Eric’s menu, I see.”

“Hush, whore,” he grinned at me, licking his fingers of the salty dill flavor that I could smell from my seat. Blah. “Steven and I are fated.” I raised an eyebrow. “What? I can do monogamy.”

“You can do a lot of fucking things, Eric, but why settle down so quick?” I asked, and realized that they both shot me a look. Pot meet kettle. Shit. “What I’m doing with-”

Eric was watching me with amusement. “Yeah, what you’re doing with dot dot dot,” he grinned, “is planning for the future. I’m not fucking saying Steven and I are necessarily end game, but he’s Mr. Right For Now.” He winked at me and I shook my head. “Did you ever read the note?” He glanced down to pick up his soda, looking uncomfortable.

“Yeah.” I breathed. I had read Negan’s note that had come with my jewelry and it had made it much easier to face Mom. Even if I had wanted to eventually, having read what he’d written had made it simple. When she jumped to the assumption that he was some creep who molded me into his perfect sex kitten, I knew that wasn’t nearly what Negan and I had. Not a tiny shred of what we were to one another had to do with him making me into what he wanted. Because in that letter he’d told me that I was already everything he could wish for. That I was IT. That he was done for with me.

“Can’t give you shit for that, not after knowing that he thinks all that about you.” Eric smiled, and took my hand. “Jealous as shit that you get to be on the receiving end of-”

“His hand, his mouth, his fucking cock.” Mary nearly moaned, lightening the mood. “Yeah, we KNOW, Eric.” She grinned and took my other hand. “We’re both green with envy, you bitch.”

 Prom came and went. Negan and I went to the drive-in and got pizza on the way back to his place. We managed to eat, and we also managed to take full advantage of an entire evening without interruption. Because, even when we managed to find time, my best friends and parents managed to interrupt. Texts, calls, I was almost amazed that none of them had followed me to his place and knocked on the door. Eric and Mary wanted to double check dates for different finals. Pretty sure Mom just wanted to cock block both of us. In the end, Prom marked an end to Mary and Eric’s need for reminders. We were done. Classes over. We had our caps and gowns. We’d taken our class picture for the yearbook. Now, we only had graduation to get through.

I should have been focused on walking across the stage to get my diploma and get the accolades for my accomplishments, but mostly I was focused on the night that would follow. Negan and me, together for the entire night. We’d never slept in the same bed. Napping after sex didn’t count, not really. And showering, a hot flash of heat ran straight through me at the thought of Negan wet and naked. Fuck.

“Princess?” His voice drew me back to the pizza dinner in front of me. “Sweetheart, you just made that noise again.” Deep, raw, and needy. That's how his voice sounded. I bit my lip and his eyes were drawn to the movement. “What made you make that noise?” He went back to studying my full face.

“Pizza?” I offered, hoping for a second to calm now the almost overwhelming heat that was still burning through me.

He shook his head, fuck he looked like a hunter. “Don’t think so.” I waited. “You haven’t taken a bite of your slice, Amara.” Oh, fuck. “What idea just ran through that overactive brain of yours, honey?”

Damn it, I felt like I’d been running a fucking marathon I was so fucking thirsty. “Graduation night.” His eyes flashed and I saw his hand fist his napkin. “And-” I stopped and took a breath to still the raging horniness that was risking to take over my entire body and force me to crawl across the fucking table to tackle him. “I was thinking about the stuff we haven’t done. As a couple.”

Negan tilted his head and waited. Fuck. Teacher mode, twelve o’clock.

“We’ve never actually slept in the same bed.” I offered, and he squinted, knowing that passing out wouldn’t have me making THAT noise. “And,” I licked my lip at the mere thought of his body dripping with water. “Showering.”

That’s all it took. I thanked God he’d put the pizza box on that bar of his, because the paper plates that held my slice and what had been left of his were swept onto the floor, unopened cans of soda, gone. And then I was on the fucking table and he was devouring me.

[actualmermaid]

3, 9, 14 for meme guy

3. Something you wish a commenter had called attention to, but got ignored.

I manage to think of one of these for like every new thing I post, but the only one I can remember right now is in Pieces of the Stars, when Maedhros said that he always came out unharmed when he carried Fingon’s letters into battle. He starts off the fic pretty badly wounded in the Third Kinslaying, so he obviously hadn’t brought Fingon’s letters with him... either because he hadn’t planned on there being a battle (lol) or because he didn’t want Fingon to be present for what he knew he was about to do. NO ONE NOTICED THIS which is fine because it wasn’t that important of a detail, but I did do it intentionally. 9. What's your fandom's most overused trope?

The one that always bugs me in the Silm fandom is fics where elves take the names of Eru and the Valar in vain all the time, because Tolkien said that they’re careful not to do this. I also fully realize that I’ve done this in my own fic a few times, so blah blah something about glass houses calling the kettle black or whatever, but I like to think that I’m doing it with purpose and creativity instead of just Ctrl+F replacing “oh my god.” (This is also a major taboo for Mormons, so that might be part of why it hits my lizard brain.)

14. What aspect of writing have you had the most growth in?

DISCIPLINE (she said while several months deep into an embarrassing dry spell). I’ve been writing, storytelling, and worldbuilding for most of my life, but I’ve had the hardest time actually planning and finishing things until fairly recently, because it involves actual work instead of just writing inspiration-driven sprints of fancy and never connecting them to each other. PotS will be finished, even if I’ve been procrastinating on it, because I’ve learned the skills and sneaky-goblin-brain workarounds necessary to do so.