#CIS Nola

[pier-carlo-universe]

Days to Connect 2024: L'Evento di Riferimento per la Digital Economy e il B2B al Nola Business Park

Innovazione, omnicanalità e digital economy al centro della terza edizione di Days To Connect, l’evento B2B patrocinato dalla Regione Campania.

Innovazione, omnicanalità e digital economy al centro della terza edizione di Days To Connect, l’evento B2B patrocinato dalla Regione Campania. Il 2 e 3 ottobre 2024, il Nola Business Park ospiterà la terza edizione di Days To Connect, l’evento B2B che mette al centro dell’attenzione le nuove opportunità della digital economy e dell’omnicanalità. Organizzato da Visio Digital Partner in…

[fluentmoviequoter]

Accidental CI

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x fem!reader

Summary: When your employer's name comes up in a case, your best friend Deacon calls to ask for your help. He leads you into a dangerous situation, and you come out as more than friends.

Warnings: r works an unspecified corporate job, mentions weapon trafficking and guns, threats, mostly fluff!

Word Count: 3.1k+ words

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“Hi, Deac,” you greet as you open the door.

“How was work?” he asks.

“It was fine. My boss forgot to start a software update last night so we didn’t have computer access until after lunch.”

“So, you got paid to sit there and do nothing?”

“Which isn’t that much different than most days,” you tease. “What about you? Any crazy calls?”

You lead Deacon into your kitchen, and his smile widens when he sees dinner waiting on your counter. He pulls you into a quick hug before telling you about his day at work.

“No injuries?” you ask softly.

“No injuries,” he assures. “What about you; any paper cuts that need tending to?”

“Just mental injuries for me. Our financial statements aren’t aligning like they should and if it’s not fixed by the next audit, someone’s getting in trouble.”

“What do you think caused it?”

“Oversight or adding the same bill twice, I’d guess. But I think we should talk about something more exciting than my future IRS investigation.”

“Then let’s talk about that amazing dinner over there and I’ll remind you that Luca wants to have a cooking competition with you.”

Deacon has been your best friend since he moved in next door. You also harbor an ever-growing crush on him. When you saw him climb out of the moving truck the first day, you knew you wanted to be close. He’s got a stressful job, so if you can give him a break and a friend, that’s what you’ll do.

Deacon watches the screen in the situation room as Hondo explains the corporate espionage turned weapon trafficking case. It's a strange move, going from stealing trade secrets to transporting illegal weapons across borders and into areas with strict gun control laws. Metro found a lot of evidence, but when they located the weapons supply in their prime suspect’s corporate office, they called in 20 Squad.

“Wait, go back. Who’s the suspect?” Deacon asks.

His eyes search the monitor as Hondo returns to a page of surveillance photos.

“Elwin Dupree. You know him?” Hondo responds.

“Not personally, but I know someone who works for him.”

“CI?” Chris guesses.

“No. She might be willing to help, though.”

“Call her,” Hondo says.

Hicks adds, “Otherwise, we’re going in blind. Metro has intel but it’s not enough to avoid an ambush.”

Deacon nods and walks out of the room. He presses a contact from his favorites list before raising his phone to his ear.

“Remind me why we work here?” your desk neighbor, whom you lovingly call Nola, says as she sits across from you.

“Because the pay is good… and we’re desperate,” you offer, smiling as you accept your favorite drink.

“May I remind you that Dupree is an idiot who can’t even remember what he asks us to do?”

“Just smile and go with it, Nola, it’s the easiest way to handle it.”

“The man called me into his office yesterday, and then didn’t know why I was there,” she whispers.

“That’s probably a good thing for you. Considering your nickname is based off of your reply of no; lazy.”

“I am lazy! So, I don’t like to do things. He can fire me whenever he wants.”

You roll your eyes and prepare to reply but are interrupted by your cell phone ringing. You apologize to Nola before you answer it.

“Hey, it’s me,” Deacon says on the other end of the line.

“Indeed, it is. What’s going on?” you reply.

“How do you know something is going on?”

“It’s mid-morning on a weekday. And you never call me.”

“I call you all the time!” Deacon argues.

You laugh before you say, “Not when you’re at work.”

“Okay, fine, you’re right. Listen, we’re working on something, and your boss’s name came up.”

“Dupree?” you inquire. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you exactly what we’re looking into, but Hondo and Hicks wanted to know if you’d be willing to help us.”

“Of course. Tell me what to do,” you agree.

“Can you come down here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answer. You open the calendar on your computer and add, “I can spare an hour and a half, is that enough time?”

“Absolutely. Thank you,” Deacon says.

“Anything for you.”

You hang up and gather your things before standing.

“Where are you off to? Please tell me you’re leaving to go on a date with the hot neighbor you always talk about,” Nola whispers.

“Not today. There was a slight mishap for some of our paperwork. I have to run to another office and get everything sorted out,” you lie. “I’ll have my cell if you need anything.”

“Dodging bullets left and right, aren’t you? Go ahead, I’ll watch your phone and fill in Dupree if he notices you’re gone.”

“Thanks, Nola.”

When you park outside the station, your thoughts begin spiraling. You sit in your seat and wonder if you made the right decision. Will you be in Deacon’s way or be too distracted by him to even help? What if something happens to him while you’re with him? What if he-

A tap on your window draws you from your questions. You turn your head and see Deacon looking at you through the glass. You send him a small smile as he opens your door and bends to look at you. His head tilts to this side, and when he lowers to a squat, his brown eyes distract you as he looks up at you.

“You okay? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he says gently.

“No, I want to. Just- I was thinking too much, I guess,” you reply.

Deacon nods and stands before offering his hand to help you out of your seat. He closes the door and ensures it’s locked before moving his hand to your back to lead you inside.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Hondo,” Hondo says as you enter.

You shake Hondo’s hand and introduce yourself as you follow him further into the station. He doesn’t waste any time as he begins explaining as much as he can about how your boss is involved in the case they’re working.

“We’d like to send you in the get additional details on the office and any other information you can find,” Hondo says. “We’ve got basic floor plans, but we need insider info.”

“She can’t go in alone,” Deacon argues. “We don’t know what he has in that office. If she starts asking questions and he gets suspicious-“

You cut Deacon off by laying a hand on his shoulder and asking, “What if you go in with me? It wouldn’t be that hard for me to lie about who you are; Dupree doesn’t know most of the people who work in the building. Plus, you know what to look for better than I do.”

Hondo looks at Deacon and waits for his reply. You feel Deacon sigh against your hand before agreeing to go into the office with you.

“There’s an employee entrance without metal detectors, but you have to swipe a keycard,” you explain. “They’ll know if you piggyback with me.”

“Our techs can make him a keycard,” Hondo assures. “If you have yours, they can copy parts of it.”

You nod and pass your card to Hondo. He turns and gives it to a passing officer with a few short instructions. Deacon pats your arm as he leaves to change; his uniform isn’t business casual, but he said he'd find something more fitting.

“20 Squad is going to be close by,” Hondo begins. “Deacon can say a word and we’ll be inside, but if you need help and get separated from Deacon, try to get to a window. Signaling for help is easiest with this; just keep it in your pocket or your hand and press the button if you need us.”

You accept the small device and slide it into your pocket. It’s invisible, and you nod as Hondo reassures you everything will be okay.

“I know you can’t tell me what exactly Dupree is doing, but you’re going to catch him, right?” you ask softly.

“Absolutely. Nobody can run from S.W.A.T.”

You scan your keycard and wait for Deacon to do the same before opening the door. The employee entrance is on the side of the building, and you smooth your hands over your hips nervously. When you feel the device Hondo gave you, you relax slightly.

“We’ll walk to my desk, look at a few papers, and then go in?” you suggest as Deacon gestures for you to enter.

“Sounds good,” he agrees.

“The suit looks good,” you mumble as you walk toward the elevator.

Deacon chuckles as the elevator door opens, and you smile as he shakes his head at your flattery. The elevator is quiet, and as you wait to arrive on your floor, you take a few deep breaths. Deacon’s hand finds your lower back, and he rubs small, comforting circles before the door opens.

“Still working on the paperwork issue?” Nola asks when you reach your desk.

“Yeah, we are. This is Ryan from the Santa Monica branch,” you say.

Nola’s eyes narrow at you before she looks at Deacon’s hand. He’s close to you, like always, but you don’t understand her look. You raise your brows, but she only shrugs before looking back at her computer.

“Was it this one?” you ask Deacon.

He takes the blank form from your hand and nods. “Yes, this is the one.”

You return the paper to its rightful place on your desk before leading Deacon down another hallway. Nola’s reaction confused you at first, yet you’re not surprised when Deacon gently grabs your hip to stop you in the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s fine. Just stay calm and remember our covers. Like you said, Dupree won’t know any difference,” Deacon soothes. “And the team’s waiting for our signal if we need them.”

You nod, and Deacon’s hands raise to your shoulders as he drops his chin to look into your eyes.

“You got this,” he promises.

“I need to discuss an urgent matter with Mr. Dupree,” you inform his secretary. “This is Mr. Ryan Davidson from the Santa Monica branch. There have been some discrepancies with paperwork submitted to their office, which needs Mr. Dupree’s immediate attention.”

His secretary raises the receiver of her desk phone and whispers into it. You turn to look at Deacon, and he tilts his head to the left to signal you to stay calm and wait.

“You can go on in,” the secretary says as she lowers the phone.

Deacon opens the door for you, and you step inside first.

“Hello,” Mr. Dupree greets. He doesn’t pretend to remember your name, you notice. “I heard there’s an issue with some paperwork?”

“Yes, sir,” Deacon says. “I’m Ryan Davidson with the Santa Monica office and we’ve been having issues; receiving incomplete or incorrect paperwork from this branch.”

“My sincerest apologies, Ryan. If you don’t mind, use that laptop there and sign into your account while I bring mine up. We’ll get this sorted.”

You stand back as Deacon walks to the table at the back of the office and opens the laptop. Mr. Dupree didn’t shake his hand, ask for identification, or take other proper steps before jumping to help. It’s suspicious, but probably not what Deacon and his team need.

“What kind of incorrect information have you seen?” Mr. Dupree asks. You open your mouth to answer, and he adds, “Ryan?”

“Financial statements that aren’t matching previous months, for one. Most likely an oversight or adding the same bill twice. Nothing too extreme, just something we need sorted before the end-of-year audits,” Deacon answers.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his response. He practically repeated a complaint you shared during your last dinner together.

“Very well. I don’t know why the system is moving so slowly,” Dupree responds. He moves his hand under his desk as Deacon types.

You watch Dupree because Deacon’s team is getting him the access he needs. When you see the handle of a gun gripped in Dupree’s hand, you call, “Gun!” and drop to the floor just before he shoots above your head.

Deacon pulls his own weapon and points it at Dupree as he demands, “Put the gun down. I’m Sergeant Kay, L.A.P.D. S.W.A.T.”

As Deacon speaks, you slowly press your back against the side of Dupree’s desk, where he can’t see you. Deacon’s eyes are on Dupree, but you watch Deacon because you trust him to keep you safe.

“I could put it down,” Dupree says. “But if I angle it like this and pull the trigger, wouldn’t it hit your little friend?”

Deacon glances at you quickly, and you lock eyes before you shift away from the oversized desk.

“One more time: drop the gun,” Deacon repeats.

You can’t see Dupree, but you clap your hands over your ears as you hear two shots. Everything goes quiet, and you lean forward slowly to look for Deacon. He kneels before you and gently pulls your hands away from your head. You let him move you before surging forward to hug him. He welcomes you into his arms as footsteps echo in the hallway outside.

“It’s okay. We got him,” Deacon promises.

You nod against Deacon and allow him to help you stand. Deacon keeps you angled away from Dupree’s desk, and you’re happy to avoid looking.

“Did you get everything you need?” you ask quietly as Street and Luca lead a paramedic inside.

“We did. Are you okay?”

Deacon lays a hand on your shoulder, and his thumb presses gently into your tense muscles as he looks into your eyes.

“Get her out of here. Hondo said you can take the rest of the day. Maybe she can practice for the competition,” Luca calls.

“I think you need the practice more than me,” you reply without turning.

Luca laughs as Deacon wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you out of the office. He takes you back to your desk to get your things, and Nola rushes to hug you when you enter the open area.

“I heard the shots and was so worried!” she exclaims. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” you promise.

 “Then I need you to do something. Go home and ask your neighbor out. Don’t wait too long,” she says.

You nod and return to Deacon’s side. He heard everything from where he was standing, yet doesn’t comment as he helps you into the passenger seat of his car. Once you’re on the road, he fills the silence by asking you questions about what you will cook for your competition with Luca. You know he’s trying to distract you from what happened, and you appreciate it.

Back at the station, you sign some paperwork to receive CI benefits before walking to Deacon’s side. He offers to drive you home and keep you company, which you happily accept. You never like leaving Deacon and don’t want to be alone tonight.

“I waited too long,” Deacon murmurs while walking you out.

You stop and turn to face him as you ask, “For what?”

“What your friend said. I waited too long to ask you out.”

You smile and slide your hand into his. “Did you know that Nola looked at us like that because you were standing really close to me?" Deacon shrugs, and you explain, “I never shut up about you, Deac. I’m in love with you, so she was confused about why I was standing so close to another man.”

“Never?” Deacon repeats playfully.

“You didn’t wait too long, Deac,” you promise.

“I didn’t?”

“Not if you take your chance right now.”

Deacon looks around quickly before yelling, “Hicks! Did you file it yet?”

“No; I’m busy, Deacon,” Hicks answers.

“Can you make her Hondo’s CI?”

Hicks looks between the two of you and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I can.”

When Deacon turns back to you, he doesn’t give you time to speak before he asks, “Will you go out with me?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” you answer.

Your smile grows to match Deacon’s, but he makes it disappear when he pulls you in and kisses you. The sound of clapping makes you open your eyes as you pull back. Hondo leads 20 Squad in a round of applause, and you bury your face in Deacon’s chest to hide your grin and burning embarrassment.

“My CI’s never end up like this,” Hondo jokes.

“Pretty good timing, though, wasn’t it?” Deacon asks as he wraps his arms around you.

You stand wordlessly from the couch and walk past Deacon. He turns to watch you as you enter your bathroom and close the door. It only takes a moment for him to decide to follow you.

“Are you okay?” Deacon asks from outside the door. “And don’t just say you’re fine. We both know you’re not.”

You open the door and lean against the vanity as he walks in. “I feel bad that you had to shoot Dupree. I know he’s fine and he’ll recover, pay for him crimes, and everything. But you probably wouldn’t have done that if I wasn’t there.”

“Don’t think like that. If he had refused to drop the gun or fired again, I would have stopped him. Whether you were there or not. The only thing that was different was how fast I decided to do it; he was threatening you, but that didn’t affect my reaction itself.”

You nod, and Deacon places his hands on the vanity, caging you and keeping you close. “Don’t carry that guilt around,” he requests. “It gets heavy quickly.”

You slip your arms under Deacon’s to circle his waist. Because of your position, you look up at him and ask, “Could I have another kiss to help me overcome all of this guilt?”

Deacon laughs as his hand raises to rub your back. “Anything for my accidental CI.”

��I’m Hondo’s CI,” you remind him.

“But I’m the one that gets to kiss you, so who has the better timing?”

You let your kiss answer the question, and when Deacon pulls you against him to be even closer, you know that the wait was worth it. Though you probably won’t agree to go into the office of a weapon trafficker with him again, you will always be ready to help him when he asks and comfort him when he can’t. Despite how much you loved Deacon when you thought you could only be friends, you feel more love now that you know he feels the same.

[chaostheoryy]

Two Scoops of Celebration [Tyler Owens X M!Reader]

Summary: It’s been two years since you’ve last spent time with your former college roommate, Tyler Owens. Having just finished a book tour promoting your premiere novel as a published author, you decide it’s time to pay your old friend a visit.

Word Count: 5.5K

Reader: Male (can be read as cis or trans, no genitalia is referenced)

Rating: Teen+

Warnings: Mild language

Notes: What started as a thought about the reader being a male version of Daisy Edgar Jones's character in Twisters very quickly became something new and wholesome. This one goes out to all the boys like me who yearn for a friends to lovers romance with a charming southern beau. As always, no beta, we die like men.

“Hey, City Boy!”

The accent that clings to Tyler’s voice as he calls out to you from across the parking lot is thicker than honey. He’s always had that sweet, southern twinge when he speaks but it seems that every time he refers to you by his favorite nickname, it’s particularly strong. The upward kick punctuating “boy” is borderline twisted.

You hate how much you love the way it sounds.

“Keep calling me that and all your wrangler buddies are gonna start thinking I’m some kind of Wall Street conman!” 

You close the door of your car, shaking your head to feign disapproval as Tyler Owens saunters your way. But the smirk denting your cheeks betrays you, and judging by the lopsided smile on his own lips, he knows there’s no way you can keep up appearances.

“Even if you were, I don’t think they give a damn. Anyone cool with me is cool with them.”

Strong arms swallow you whole like a tidal wave and throw you violently against the shore that is Tyler’s broad chest. Even with a thick flannel and undershirt concealing his figure, you can feel just how firm his pec muscles are. He’s even more in shape than the last time you’d met. Still smells like farmland and overpriced cologne though, so some things really never change.

“Good to see you, Ty,” you mumble into the ruffles of his shirt. If there’s one thing you’ll never tire of in this world, it’s the inescapable bear hugs of your former college roommate. 

When he finally releases you so he can beam at you face-to-face, his left hand clamps down on your shoulder. His thumb begins massaging your collarbone as he looks you over. The alarmingly intimate gesture nearly gives you goosebumps.

“You look good. NOLA must be treating you right.”

“Good people and even better food. Plus my aunt lives just outside the city so every holiday is a feast. It’s a miracle I haven’t gained more weight.” You chuckle. “How about you? How’ve you been?”

“Just peachy." He raises a finger. "And before you start, no I do not mean that sarcastically.”

The two of you share massive, toothy smiles and bask in the warmth of each other’s presence. A whole two years without getting to see the man who’d single-handedly motivated you to finish your degree at UA is simply too long. Life hasn’t exactly sucked without him, but you’ve always known things would be so much brighter with him around, the same way rolling fields of green are always a bit more breathtaking when peppered by sunflowers.

“Alright, quit grinning at me like that. You’re gonna fracture a cheekbone,” he teases with a gentle pat of the hand against your jaw, “C’mon, let’s grab a bite. My treat.”

***

The two of you catch up over a pair of greasy burgers and several bottles of beer. Stories are exchanged at the dinner table like currency. He tells you about a slippery twister he chased across the Oklahoma border into southwest Missouri; you tell him about the tour you took around the country promoting your first novel. And even though stories about meeting fellow writers and signing books are far less exciting than hair raising tales of tornado wrangling, Tyler is just as invested in your retellings as he would be if you’d told him you were planning to steal the Declaration of Independence.

He takes a long swig of his drink. “You’re amazing, y’know that right?”

You scoff, “Says the guy who literally drives his truck into tornadoes for a living.”

“Anybody can do stupid shit like that.” He waves his hand dismissively. 

“Not with enough wisdom to survive the way you do.”

“‘Course not. But that’s not the point! What I’m saying is you’re a guy with genuine talent and being able to create something elegant and captivating enough for people to spend hours if not days reading…That’s something to celebrate.”

Your cheeks flush, not from the alcohol in your system, but from the emotions his praise has stirred within you. Your stomach feels impossibly light. He may not have been the one to major in English, but Tyler sure has a way with words.

“I read it, by the way,” he adds before you can muster a timid phrase of thanks.

Now there’s a surprise. Notorious rodeo boy and meteorology YouTube star, Tyler Owens, has actually read your queer fantasy novel. Your queer fantasy novel with a very graphic sex scene—well, scenes (plural) actually—between two grown men.

“Really?” 

“Really.”

You cock your head and eye him expectantly. “And…”

“And I think it’s pretty damn good.” He throws his head back as he downs the remainder of his beer. The first couple of words after are strained from an air bubble in his throat. “Look, I ain’t blowin’ smoke just because we’re buddies. I’ve been reading your work ever since you finally let me have a peek at your poetry assignment during second semester of sophomore year and I’m telling you, you’re good. And I’m sure as hell glad the rest of the world is catching onto it too.”

The airy feeling in your gut doesn’t dissipate but the pride in your chest is hefty enough to keep you from floating away.

“Thanks, Tyler. I mean it. Even though the praise of a college dropout can only mean so much,” you manage to tease with a tiny smirk.

The grin that meets you is almost blinding. “You son of a bitch.”

“Sorry, you know I had to.”

He clicks his tongue the same way you used to hear him express vexation at the results of a bull-riding competition. “Like hell you did. I ought to give my copy of your book a hundred pages of dog ears for that.”

The blasphemous image of carelessly bent page corners pops into your head. A chill runs down your spine.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you growl, fingers ever so slightly lifting the butter knife from beside your plate to point its blunt tip at the man across from you. It’s an empty threat at an already low stakes showdown.

“Oh, I really would. And then I’d donate it to a hand-me-down bookstore so some broke English major looking for a new read has to painstakingly unfold every last one before he can actually enjoy the story.”

Your jaw drops. Two years and several hundred miles apart, and he has yet to forget what makes you tick. A part of you is thankful that’s the case because you know it means you really do hold value in his life.

“I drive ten hours to spend time with you and this is how you repay me?”

“Oh, please. That’s nothing. Besides, I’m paying you back the right way.” He pulls out his worn-out trifold wallet and drops a few paper bills on the table. He tucks the waitress’s hastily scribbled check underneath the pile of bills. “Cold, hard cash, baby.”

***

After dinner, you trail his modded, red Ram pickup a few miles north to a motel near the edge of the small Oklahoma town. The motel itself is clearly long past its prime, but not even remotely close to being one of the shittiest places either of you have ever stayed. With a Walmart not too far up the road and a Braum’s directly across the street, you’re pretty confident that you won’t be left wanting for much.

It comes as a complete shock that the motel room is not empty when you step inside. There are balloons floating in the corners, confetti strewn all over the bed, and a banner dangling above the headboard that reads, “Congratulations!” On the dresser just beneath the wall-mounted flatscreen are hand-wrapped gifts and a bouquet of sunflowers nestled inside a hardcover-shaped ceramic vase.

“Whoa, what the hell happened in here?” Tyler announces with poorly faked bewilderment—albeit purposefully so—as he trails you inside, “Looks like someone gutted a piñata on your bed.”

“Haha, very funny.” You stroll over to get a better look at the sunflowers. They smell delightfully fresh. “You did all this?”

“Sure did!” He shuts the door and grabs one of the presents to hold while he waits for you to savor the moment. The way he absentmindedly rotates the gift in his hands reminds you of a quarterback handling the ball between plays. “I know guys usually aren’t big on receiving flowers, but sunflowers were kind of a big part of your book so I thought it’d be fitting. Plus I needed something to gussy up the vase.”

You can’t help but be impressed. Not only did he put his eyes to the pages of your book just to say he did it, but he actually made sure to remember details like the motif of sunflowers. You’ve always known he’s more than just a pretty face and charisma but continually being gifted the privilege of truly knowing the heartfelt man behind that stereotypical facade means the world to you.

“Here.” He passes you the gift in his hands. “Open this one.”

Now that it’s in your grasp, you can easily tell by the shape and weight that it’s some sort of coffee mug. You chuckle, unable to contain your amusement, and rip the paper poorly concealing its identity. The second you free the cup from its wrapping, that chuckle turns into a roaring laugh.

“Are you fucking serious?” 

You hold the mug up to face him. It’s one of those cheesy “World’s Greatest Dad” mugs you’d find at any road stop or Walmart around Father’s Day, but the “Dad” has been crossed out and the word, “writer”, is hand painted on the ceramic just underneath it. 

Tyler beams. “What? You don’t like it?”

“Of course I like it,” you retort. “It’s got a certain je ne sais quoi that just screams Tyler Owens to me.”

He points at the hand painted “writer” near the bottom of the mug. “Could be the shitty paint job. That really was me, by the way. I still don’t have a lick of artistic talent in me.”

“Awww, bless your heart,” you jest while placing one hand on his chest. 

It’s a harmless, mocking gesture reminiscent of an aging memaw whose grandbaby has just told her that—despite their hard work—they’re failing their history class. And really that’s all you meant by touching him. But the second you feel the heat of his body radiating against your palm and note the teensy upward tick of his eyebrow, your stomach does a giddy little flip.

Before you can jerk your hand away, Tyler grabs your wrist, fingers wrapping around your forearm to keep your palm pressed against his shirt. A loose wire somewhere in the complex system that is your consciousness snaps, causing your breath to catch. You fully intended to play the whole moment off as casually as humanly possible but this contact is certainly dismantling any hope you may have of doing so.

“You makin’ fun of me, City Boy?” There’s a sharp edge to his voice, and without any sign of that signature smirk on his face, it’s hard to tell if he’s actually been ruffled by your teasing.

You swallow and hope your voice doesn’t crack or waver. Years of friendship be damned, there isn’t a singular crumb of desire within you to give him a peek behind the curtain at the very nervous boy trying to keep himself together in front of a handsome man.

“Maybe I am. You gonna do something about it, cowboy?”

“You’re lucky I like you,” he drawls in a low voice, “‘Cause my mama didn’t raise no coward.”

A crooked smile finally breaks the tension that’s been lingering between you. He adds, “Besides, you’d be kissin’ dirt long before you could even land a blow. No offense, but something tells me a certified bookworm like you doesn’t stand much of a chance against the guy who used to ride broncos for a living.”

“‘Used to’ being the operative words.”

The weight on your shoulders that had been put in place by the stifling suspense of the interaction finally dissipates when he chuckles and releases your arm. You gently shove him backward a step. His laughter fills the room like the ringing of Sunday church bells.

“Y’know, I’ve really missed this.”

Your eyebrow instinctually raises at the statement. “Missed what?”

“All of this,” he says, making a vague hand gesture between the two of you. “Fucking around with you, yappin’ about life, making you laugh.”

The look of adoration on his face as he gazes down at you does something violent to your gut. You’d throw up if it weren’t for the fact that you desperately want to avoid embarrassing yourself in front of him. That kind of doe-eyed expression on a face like his should be made illegal. 

“You’d think that spending several years risking your life chasing tornadoes would make you hard, but somehow you’ve only gotten softer.” There’s no malice in your words, only admiration.

“Growing up’ll do that to ya. Plus, when your life flashes before your eyes often enough, it gets pretty easy to see the big picture.”

“Ty, you’re starting to sound like a Chicken Soup book. Is this a cry for help?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle and dips his head down a little, almost as if avoiding your gaze. His eyes linger on the mug in your hand for a moment. It feels crazy to even consider the possibility but you swear there’s a tinge of red in his cheeks.

He’s…blushing?

“Look, I’m just saying I miss seeing you all the time. Playing catch-up every couple o’ years isn’t enough,” he confesses softly. “A lot of that’s my fault, I know. Hell, these past two months alone, I’ve been hauling ass across state lines three or four times a week. But I’ll be honest, there’ve been more days than not where all I wanted was to call you and listen to you talk about your book.”

Hesitation and humility are elusive tourists in Tyler’s life. Seeing him so timorous is almost unsettling. There had been moments in college where the stress had beaten him senseless or grief had hollowed him into a shell of his usual self, so this isn’t the first time he’s divulged such raw emotions to you. But no matter how many times over the course of your connection it happens, it never ceases to stir something solicitous inside of you.

Before some anxious parasite inside your head convinces you not to do it, you ditch the mug on the dresser and snake your arms around his neck to pull him into a much-needed embrace. Judging by the way he stumbles forward a step, he hadn’t been expecting you to take him in your arms.

But the initial bewilderment doesn’t keep him from melting into you. Not even a second after he’s processed your affectionate action, his arms are wrapping tightly around you and his chin finds a soothing perch upon your shoulder.

“Call me,” you say softly. “Whenever you want. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night or you’re just bored on the road. I’m always here for you. You know that, right?”

You feel him nod in unison with a soft, “mm-hmm,” next to your ear. Such a muted response awakens your primal instinct to protect. There’s an aura of fragility surrounding him at that moment that makes you forget just how nervous you’d been in the midst of your conversation. And in each other’s arms, things just feel…right.

After a long but not at all uncomfortable silence, he whispers, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a hankering for ice cream.”

You nearly snort with laughter at the tonal shift. Reluctantly, you unravel your arms from around his neck so you can look him in the eyes again. Chances are you’ll dream of that hug tonight.

“You’ve been thinking about Braum’s ever since we parked, haven’t you?”

He grins slyly as he admits, “I have.”

“Well hop to it, cowboy,” you exclaim with a nod toward the door. “We ain’t got all night!”

“What about the rest of your presents?”

You give him a look: one brow raised while the other digs into the ridge above your nose and your mouth forms a hard, flat line. Not a word is spoken but you know he can decipher the meaning.

“Okay. Yup, you’re right. Presents can wait. We’ve got better places to be.”

***

Making the journey over to the ice cream parlor is easily the best decision either of you have made all week. With plastic spoons in hand and wide, child-like smiles plastered across your faces, you reminisce about old times. 

Despite being gifted with a knack for meteorology, Tyler had struggled to actually maintain his academic prowess in college. He was a wild child through and through, opting for the adventure of an unplanned road trip or raging frat party over the assignments of his mandatory gen-eds. He fell behind hard and fast in his freshman year.

You, on the other hand, had been the golden child of academia. There wasn’t a single class that stumped you. On top of your thousands of dollars in scholarship funding, you had finished high school with a slough of college credits, which meant you could focus on your passion by taking any and all creative writing courses that UA had to offer. Screenwriting, poetry, non-fiction, journalism, just to name a few. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what form of storytelling you studied; you have plenty of stories to tell and you are going to share them with the world one way or another.

It wasn’t until sophomore year that the two of you met. Pure chance brought you together in the form of randomized dorm assignments. Your freshman year roommate had decided to rent a house with some friends which meant the school had a bed to fill. And, unfortunately for Tyler, his freshman year roommate was booted from the dorms for sneaking in buttloads of weed and an even bigger buttload of girls whenever Tyler wasn’t around.

So, be it fate or some other unknowable power of the universe, Tyler Owens was moved one floor up and two doors over to share a room with you.

“Y’know, I really do appreciate you tryin’ to keep me from flunking out,” Tyler says between massive spoonfuls of his Neapolitan sundae. “My mama’s always loved you for it. Says you’re one of God’s sweet angels sent to look after her precious little boy.”

You laugh. “She doesn’t say that.”

“Alright, those aren’t her exact words. But I’m not lying when I say she loves you. ‘Like biscuits n’ gravy,’ she says.”

“She’s only met me once!”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve told her enough stories about you. According to her, you’re part of the family.”

Something flutters spastically in your gut at that statement: part of the family. All these years, you’ve been fully aware that the two of you are close. Hell, neither of you have shied away from divulging anything that’s happened in each other’s lives, no matter how good or bad. But knowing that he’s spoken so highly of you, so often that his mother recognizes your importance in his life still comes as a surprise to you.

“Well, my mom watches you do crazy shit on Youtube so she knows better than to call you an angel,” you taunt before taking a long, slow lick from your spoon.

Tyler’s gaze falls on your tongue as you drag the plastic utensil across it. His eyes narrow slightly and his lips part as if to counter your remark. However, there is no response ready to be thrown back at you and whatever cocky smile had started to form dissolves faster than cotton candy in a rainstorm.

For the briefest moment, he just gapes at you with hooded eyes.

His Adam’s apple bobs.

Oh.

By the time your mind actually processes what’s happening, he blinks and draws his eyes back to the half-eaten bowl of ice cream in front of him. You’re glad he’s not wearing his signature white hat because he can’t hide his flushing cheeks beneath the brim.

“Remind me to send your mom a t-shirt then,” he says.

“And be stuck staring down your ugly mug every time I visit my parents? Hell no!”

The playful banter is apparently what was needed because his blinding smile is already worming its way back onto his lips. He eyes you from beneath his lashes.

“Ugly? You think a million people would still be subscribed to my channel if this was considered ugly?” He points to his face with the tip of his spoon.

You shrug, making sure to put on a show of dismally feigned innocence. “I just figured people were dying to see Lily do cool tricks with her drone. Either that or they just can’t get enough of Boone’s pyro skills and whimsical personality.”

The look on his face screams flabbergasted. Actually, he looks borderline offended. He’s silent for a moment, tongue denting the inside of his cheek.

Finally, he scoffs. “Right. Boone’s ‘whimsical personality.’ That’s gotta be it.”

“I don’t know why you’d think it’d be anything else.”

He sighs. “Listen, I hate to burst your bratty little bubble, but I can’t take a single thing you say seriously when you’ve got ice cream on your nose.”

You feel your playful demeanor plummet harder than hail. The idea of embarrassing yourself in front of him never fails to make you unbearably nervous. “Where?”

He leans forward, finger slowly getting closer to your face. “Right…there!”

Just before his finger makes contact, his other hand swipes the back of his spoon across the tip of your nose. A dollop of strawberry-flavored ice cream sits at the scene of the crime like some sad, Dollar Store attempt at clown makeup.

You blink. He laughs heartily and takes another bite, grinning to himself like some rowdy teenager who’s just pulled the best prank of his career as the neighborhood hooligan. As much as you want to be infuriated by his childish behavior, you find it particularly difficult to do when that damn smile makes him shine like the sun.

“I can’t stand you,” you mutter as you drag your napkin over your face to remove the evidence of his attack.

“Aw, come on. Have a lil’ fun, City Boy! Besides, I know that’s not true. We men may be stubborn and impulsive, but there’s no way in hell we’d drive 600 miles to visit a fella we couldn’t stand.”

“Maybe I was insanely bored.”

“Is that how you usually cure your boredom these days: drive hundreds of miles to meet handsome guys at random motels?”

As soon as the question leaves his mouth, his cocky smile is replaced by a grimace. He doesn’t even need to see the embarrassed expression plastered on your face to know that the joke he was trying to make didn’t stick the landing.

You both blush. And boy are you thankful he’d suggested the two of you sit at an outdoor table after you’d ordered your dessert.

“Sorry. That sounded a lot funnier in my head. I didn’t mean—“

You cut him off. “It’s okay. Really. I know what you meant.”

He forces a small, sympathetic smile and nods. The guilt he’s battling internally is so strong that it’s radiating from his skin. It might actually make him sick. However, the remorseful look in his eyes is just as likely to make you sick.

“Tyler, I’m begging you with every fiber of my being to stop.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Stop what?”

“That!” You point directly at his face. “The sad puppy dog pout thing you’re doing!”

“I don’t know what you’re going on about.”

Despite his eyebrows pinching even closer together in a dramatic display of penitence, you can see the corners of his mouth twitch upward. The little bastard knows exactly what he’s doing and it might actually drive you crazy. You love to hate him almost as much as you hate to love him.

“Y’know, it’s moments like this where I wish they’d never roomed us together.”

“See, now I know you don’t mean that either. That nerdy fella I met sophomore year with his fat stacks of books and never-ending journals was itching for some real-life excitement. He may not have liked me at first, but I know for a damn fact that he needed a push from someone like me to get him out of his shell. And look at ‘em now!” He gestures to you with his spoon. “A published author climbing his way up to the big leagues.”

Okay, so you love him far more than you could ever hate him.

***

The two of you return to your motel room after another hour or so of yapping on the Braum’s patio. You both sit at the edge of the confetti-covered bed as you open the remainder of his presents: a pair of candles for your desk at home, a new set of leather-bound journals, and a collection of dice that feature different prompts and writing topics to help inspire future stories.

You can’t help but grin as you analyze the box of dice. “You’ve outdone yourself, Owens.” 

“I know.” He hooks one arm around your shoulders and pulls you flush against his side. “Not to brag, but I think I’m one hell of a gift giver. When I want to be, at least.”

You swallow. The way your heart spasms in your chest at the feeling of his arm wrapped around you is startling. This sideways embrace is not an inherently amatory gesture, you know that. Hell, it’s probably his way of communicating brotherly affection. Logic, however, can never quell the excitement of a lover boy’s heart.

“Thank you for all of this, Ty. It’s perfect. Well, maybe minus the whole confetti mess.”

He laughs, scoops up a clump of the rainbow-colored tissue paper with his free hand, and dumps it on the top of your head. “You see a mess, I see opportunity.”

You roll your eyes. Confetti comes tumbling into your lap as you shake your head like a dog fresh out of the bathtub.

He adds, “It was either confetti or rose petals. And something tells me you and I aren’t exactly at the rose petal stage in our relationship yet.”

Your brow instinctively raises at that. “Yet?”

It’s a miracle that your stomach doesn’t turn itself inside out.

He shrugs. “Give it time, man. Maybe one day you’ll realize I’m more than just a pretty face.”

“Well, trust me, I wouldn’t be falling for your brains. I’m actually not sure there’s anything going on in there,” you manage to tease in return. You gently knock your middle knuckle against his temple. “Jesus Christ, I think it might be hollow.”

“Ouch. Y’know words can hurt, right?”

“I might know a thing or two about words, yeah.”

“I’m quite certain you do,” he says with a crooked smile.

The way he looks at you with such audacious adoration should be criminal. It kicks up a familiar, violent storm in your gut that is only made exponentially worse by the presence of his arm draped around you. 

Your cheeks have grown hot. In fact, your whole body feels like it’s been engulfed in an invisible blanket that is too heavy and wrapped too tightly around your torso and—

Oh.

Oh.

His eyes are on your lips. 

Just like earlier, he’d let his gaze wander. And like earlier, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows what you imagine is a lump in his throat. This time, however, there’s no spoon on your tongue that inadvertently drew his attention.

There’s an almighty, invisible force at work that pulls you closer to him.

Suddenly, you're leaning. You hadn’t even been conscious of the decision when it started, but you’re naturally leaning toward him and he’s pushing back.

Magnetism.

He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been in all the years you’ve known him. From here, you can clearly make out the normally imperceptible flecks of gold in his green eyes. Miners once risked their lives for gems and metals that shine the way Tyler’s eyes do. They’re beautiful.

He’s just a breath away when the magnetic pull suddenly stops. The anticipation nearly draws a pathetic whimper from some depraved animal trapped inside your ribcage. You can practically hear his teeth clack together as he clenches his jaw.

His voice is soft and uneasy when it breaks the suffocating silence that’s enveloped the room. “Please tell me I’m not about to fuck this up.” 

You immediately shake your head as you whisper, “You’re not…I promise.” 

Like a cowboy desperately trying to avoid spooking a jittery mustang, you slowly bring your hand up to caress his neck. The second your fingers graze his skin, he exhales. His breath is hot on your lips.

“It’s okay. I want you to kiss me.”

With your permission explicitly granted, he eliminates the gap between your mouths.

It’s such a delicate kiss; a first kiss to end all first kisses. He doesn’t push too hard or rush into anything too passionate (not that you would complain if he did), but simply lets his lips melt with yours. Even when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss just a little, there’s no indication of carnal desire. Your affection is a delicacy that he has chosen to savor.

“I’ve been thinking ‘bout this for so long, I was startin’ to worry I might actually have a screw loose,” he muses when he finally breaks the kiss.

“You actually have several screws loose, casanova, but that’s got nothing to do with wanting to kiss me.”

The chuckle that reverberates from his chest is so low that you can feel it in your bones. And—raunchy as it is to admit—bones most certainly aren’t the only part of your body stirred by the sound of that deep laugh.

“You may be right about that, City Boy. But it sure don’t help screw ‘em back in.”

Now that you know your connection runs deeper than former roommates or college buddies, you cave into the temptation to touch. The hand you’d placed on his neck starts to wander, tracing the hard line of muscle up to the back of his jaw before sliding back down to dip your fingers into the valley of his collarbone.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” You ask.

“Since the last time we met up, I think. At least that’s when I really started putting the puzzle together in my head,” he admits. “But probably longer.”

“Hey, two years is a long time.”

He nods. “Sure is. How ‘bout you, Mr. Big Time?”

“How long have I been pining for you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Your hand ceases its wandering and settles on his chest as you ponder the question. Well, as you pretend to ponder the question. Because you know the answer. You’ve known it for far too long.

“Second semester of sophomore year.”

His face falls. He looks mortified. “You’re joking.”

“Wish I was.”

He lets out a heavy breath of disbelief. “You’ve been holding this in for eight years! Why? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Oh, come on, Ty,” you scoff. You’re not at all angered by his questions. The answers just seem so obvious that it’s almost funny that he even has to ask. “I was the introverted, token gay roommate to a frat boy—albeit, you were a very nice frat boy. Why would I risk a confession when you never once mentioned being attracted to men? Besides, I’ve always valued our friendship way too much to try anything.”

He stares at you silently. The look on his face is an intricate mixture of guilt and adoration.

Finally, he says, “I’m sorry. I know it’s kind of a stupid thing to apologize for but I really am sorry. The fact that I couldn’t see you holding something so important back…I don’t know. In some ways, I failed as your friend for that.”

“No, Tyler, you didn’t do anything wrong. Neither of us did.”

“Well, whether I screwed the pooch or not, I’m gonna make it up to you either way,” he declares.

You laugh, fully amused by his determination. “Make it up how?”

“Food. Sex. Money. Hell, you want my truck? You can have it.”

“No, you can keep that. No offense, but your truck is filthy and beat to all hell.” You pat his chest lovingly and adjust his collar. “Besides, I like the first three options better. Especially the second one.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward into a lopsided smirk. “I’m glad you said that, ‘cause I’ve got a near-unlimited supply of that. The money, not so much.”

He tenderly grips your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding your face to his. You eagerly follow his lead. Lips meet in a gentle kiss.

“You wanna have me start gettin’ to work on that repayment, City Boy?” He murmurs between kisses.

You pull back just as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, opting to press your index finger to his lips. “Start by getting the confetti off my bed, then we’ll see about option two.”

With a tiny nod, he purrs, “Sir, yes, sir.”

[archive-z]

iwtv au im not gonna write bc i don’t have time but still

louis grows up in nola as a cis-passing trans dude, tacitly accepted by his family (that he’s trans is not known outside the family) — perhaps the patriarch of the de pointe du lac family clocked that paul wasn’t going to fit into the role of heir apparent early, so from age 4 or 5 they let Louis go by his preferred name instead (aka the way Anne Rice’s family did)

how does this change how he views grace getting married? how does he feel abt taking care of paul? what does grace think abt his relationship with Lestat?

part of the reason he’s so close with Miss Lily is she’s clocked him & is cool about it. miss bricktop probably has too.

how does this change his relationship to lestat? (wanting to be loved as a gay trans man vs. as a woman). does he remind Lestat of Gabrielle? Lestat being careless re: his privilege as a cis guy, the way he is already abt being white

his relationship with claudia? that Lestat gave him a daughter? “how does love between two men work?” “it works like love” vs. when claudia says maybe if she’d lived she’d have a family of her own

paris is maybe an exploration not just of sexuality but of what kind of masculinity feels right to him outside the hypervigilance of passing as a cis dude for safety reasons

when santiago mimics his voice .

daniel is still a cis dude (and lowkey a chaser? nay, i shan’t…) & wants to emphasize to louis how Open Minded he is.

when he bites madeleine… he feels all her feelings but also… her authentic experience of cisgender womanhood ? and how unfamiliar/alienating that feels (diversity win! deepest moments of shame and self-loathing were also gender affirming)

i feel like more trans dudes should get to be awful in ways that have nothing to do with being trans & everything to do with being a landlord

[celebrityskinz]

(zaria simone,  ciswoman,  she/her)  ⎯ brianne ventress has  been  a  resident  of  roseton  for ten years .  around  the  town ,  the  twenty-eight  year  old  ballerina/nail-tech at darling’s salon  has  been  given  the  nickname,  the prima donna .  i  think  it's  because  they  are charismatic ,  but  also  inconsistent .  echo  is  said  to  know  ! [ sleep over gossips, ballet shoes, vintage collection between heels and 2000s dresses ] 

FULL NAME   BRIANNE VENTRESS. NICKNAME(S) BRI & BRIA. AGE   TWENTY-EIGHT. GENDER  CIS-WOMAN. PRONOUNS   SHE/HER. SEXUALITY   BISEXUAL.

PLACE  OF  BIRTH   NEW ORLEANS, LA.

OCCUPATION   BALLERINA/PART TIME NAIL-TECH.

EYES   BROWN.

HEIGHT   5’3.

BUILD   SLIM TONED WITH CURVE.

ETHNICITY   BLACK & CAJUN.

WARDROBE BRIANNE'S WARDROBE IS OF ELEGANCE MIXED WITH YOUTHFUL WHIMSY, AS SHE WEARS VIBRANT VINTAGE COLLECTIONS FROM THE 2000s.

SPEECH  +  CADENCE   A NOTICEABLE NOLA ACCENT UPON SPEAKING FAST OR UPSET.

 BIO

the only child born and raised in New Orleans, LA to a Cajun father and Black mother.

with where she was raised and who she raised by, music and dancing has always been apart of her and has expanding to her passion for ballet as she got older.

back in nola, brianne and her family weren't at the success level they're in at roseton, ma.

around when brianne was eighteen, her family moved to roseton, ma, looking for a fresh start, but what they didn't expect-- was for them to come to roseton, ma inherit old money wealth, under the ventress family name.

with the ventress family now residing in roseton, ma, they have contributed a lot, not fully taking advantage of their new found wealth and abusing its power, but using that power to contribute to the town itself and building the town's power in positive light.

if there was a misconception of wealthy people, the ventress family would be it, well, at least for brianne's parents. i mean, brianne has made positive contributions, but while her parents working in the political side of the town, she's been working full-time on the social side and she can be indecisive with her actions, she wants to be seen as one of the greats, but she also doesn't want to be hated, but it's also like if she is, what can she do about it?

she has a lot on her plate, and it's mostly because she's doing the overthinking, but since brianne and her family resided here for about ten years now, she's certainly had the luxury of traveling out to big time cities with ballet as one of the many backdrops, and that is, new york city. she's gotten to perform at successful big name prestigious ballet productions, representing her town and basically putting them on the map. so each time she'd come back, roseton would of course celebrate her. she's like a football player to his small town.

her occupation as a nail-tech is too present herself as not only this household name but someone who can work humbly and can easily interact with the customers as she serves them, making her seemingly... approachable.

PERSONA.

her favorite color is purple.

obsessed over old hollywood glamour, so you can catch her watching classic films with faces starring old hollywood actresses.

she can't stand the rain, snow, any sort of weather that prevents her from being outside for as long as she wants, so she's a fall and summer type of gal.

she's a trendsetter, she's often the one creating or bringing back fashion trends for residents of roseton,ma.

her ballet pointe shoes are on theme with every performances she does as she decorates them herself.

hates coffee.

if you get a gift from her, prepared to be overwhelmed, it would be over-packed with ribbons, custom tags, etc..

has a section in her closet dedicated to all her performances wear that she will never let anyone touch.

could flirt but then question why you're flirting back bcz she'll convince herself she doesn't need a serious partner, so she won't let herself take it any further even if she wants to.

also she's the mean kinda flirt.

a secret nerd for folktale/lore stories.

despite appearing like a busy body outside at home she's an classical ice-cream eater watching rom-coms like the loser she thinks she not.

for wanted connections, i'll hit ppl's inbox and i'll brainstorm what i see for brianne's connection to their muses as they can also do too, based on intros <3

[sidequestzone]

"The initial concept for Hardcoded was to make a game which would invite that cis futa-fetish crowd, but then take their feelings seriously and make being a girl seem like a real possibility, if they’re interested. It’s changed a lot since then though. I think I was just bitter about the terrible, weirdly-sexual trans education I had to hack together when I was little. I’m pretty sure that’s a common experience for trans people. Porn that was actually interested in teaching me stuff would have changed my life."

Read more from Nola Pfau's interview with Kenzie Wintermelon in Hardcoded For Success: A Chat With Kenzie Wintermelon: https://sidequest.zone/2018/04/16/hardcoded-for-success-a-chat-with-kenzie-wintermelon/

[michaelwadex]

[ANDY BEAN, WEREWOLF, CIS MALE, 140, HE/HIM]MICHAEL WADE called into 333FM. They were a little bit RESERVED & STUBBORN at first, but we kept them talking until they got a little KIND & FRIENDLY. They said they’ve been working as A TATTOO ARTIST, and thinking about aligning themselves with NO FACTION since they have been living in New Orleans for ALL THEIR LIFE, and from what we can tell, they still give off huge A TATTOO GUN, AN IGNORED PAST, SUN RAYS FILTERING THROUGH THE LEAVES vibes.

The first thing to know about Wade is that he doesn't go by the name Michael, and if you dare to call him that, he'll gladly correct you.

He has lived in NOLA all his life, born and raised in the city to werewolf parents.

Owns a tattoo parlor in town, and specializes in inking up all supernatural beings.

He's aware of the gangs, but doesn't go out of his way to get too involved with them.

Personality:

Wade is a very happy go lucky kind of guy. He's often saying that he's too old or too tired to deal with BS, so he does his best to avoid it. He is polite and enjoys when others are polite back to him. The only way to get on his bad side is to be rude, or to use his first name. Other than that, he's very easy to get along with and tries to make friends with most people he comes across.

[dannyfm]

Welcome to New York {DANIEL SUTTON} !! They are a {33} year old {CIS MAN} who uses {HE/HIM} pronouns. They’re an {EMERGENCY NURSE PRACTITIONER} who has been in town for {NINE YEARS}. When looking at {DANIEL} you automatically think of {THE CRACKLE OF A RECORD PLAYING, A REMINDER THAT TENDERNESS IS A VIRTUE, FIDGETING HANDS} but that probably makes sense since they also remind you of {JACOB ANDERSON}. You can always hear {VIENNA} by {BILLY JOEL} coming from their place. Who knows what kind of trouble they’re going to get themselves into. [penny, 25, gmt, n/a]

fullname:  daniel rené sutton. nickname(s): danny ( his preferred choice ), dan. age:  thirty-three. birthday: november 12th. gender / pronouns:  cis man ,  he / him. orientation:  bisexual / biromantic. place of birth: new orleans, louisiana current residence: queens, new york. languages: english, french, spanish & asl. height: 5'8. personality: loyal, empathetic, obsessive, stubborn.

( tw ; car accident, drunk driver, injury, depression & ptsd. )

born in new orleans, daniel was primarily raised by his mother ( originally from baton rouge ) and sisters, as his father ( originally from queens ) travelled a lot for work.

his kind-hearted nature and seemingly tireless desire to help people made of his choice of nursing for a career unsurprising. daniel graduated at the top of his class in his bsn and started work in nola as soon as he could.

the relocation to queens around a year later was the first and really only truly impulsive decision danny ever made. he'd been thinking about moving out of louisiana whilst still studying, but figured he'd never be brave enough to do it. he'd joke the endless teasing from his sister about it was the motivator.

he settled in queens, discovering he loved it more than he could ever dream of. with the goal of becoming a nurse practitioner in mind and the solidification of his love for emergency medicine, he took the exam to become a certified emergency nurse and a handful of other certifications. maybe not a necessary step, but one he enjoyed doing -- it felt like progress.

the next step was to get his msn, something he opted to do online. ( TW ) was cycling home from a night shift one morning when he was hit by a drunk driver at a crossing. he woke a couple of days later to a shock ( and thinking that it was funny that someone who worked in emergency medicine would be surprised by his injuries ). daniel had been lucky, really. at least, that's what people said -- at the time he could only think that was an unbelievably cruel thing to say. his right leg had been amputated ; initially below the knee but complications arose and so he ended up an above knee amputee. otherwise, he was pretty much unscathed. a smattering of scars here and there the only other thing to show for his ordeal.

not unexpectedly, daniel was diagnosed with ptsd and had fallen into depression immediately following the accident and suffered during much of his recovery. he refused to even think about his life beyond, let alone work ; his msn was paused and he insisted he would never go back to it for a while. eventually and no doubt entirely thanks to the efforts of friends, family & the professionals around him daniel came round.

by no means have either of those things become a non-issue in his life ( the level of pain he's in & the prevalence of depression are inextricably linked ), but they have dissipated significantly and well, when all else fails… there’s always throwing yourself into work or looking after someone else when you don't want to deal with your own problems. ( TW END )

since the accident just under a year and a half ago, daniel has completed his msn and settled into his role as an enp and overjoyed with the achievement of his goal.

headcanons

daniel has an orange cat called sidney ( sid ) who is a rescue and probably his best bud.

accent is kind of mess. the nola tinge ( non-rhotic, th = d pronunciation) ) is definitely at the forefront, but it's also influenced by the accents of his family from other areas of louisiana and queens. danny is very soft-spoken, borderline mumbly ( kinda will lamontagne-esque if ur familiar with criminal minds asdfak ) but also very aware that this can make him even more difficult to understand so he def has a 'phone / work voice ' he uses to be clearer.

big good samaritan vibes. he has a particular set of skills and Will show up with an advanced medical kit ready to fix anything he can if need be. also BIG into music. plays piano, violin & guitar ( mostly acoustic bc that's his personal preference ) and secretly has a very nice voice but he'd probably actually drop dead if someone ever mentioned that.

probably an ambivert, but also shy as hell. he's definitely got a lot less shy since starting work just out of necessity but still prefers to blend into the background at social events and with people he doesn't know. it's something he's trying to work on. has a massive heart, his friendship is not hard to win but damn near impossible to shake off ( not least bc he knows he was sometimes an A+ asshole in recovery and anyone who stuck around through that deserves at least the same energy from him. )

wanted connections page. pinterest board.

literally everything pls. best friend, good friends, a bad / good influence who encourages him to socialise & get out of his comfort zone more, ex & present day crushes / flings, neighbours, flirtationship, exes & co workers.

[ofcvrnage]

     𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟⧸𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒 :   davina alice claire   ››   witch   ››  danielle campbell  .

❛❛   aesthetic.  ❜❜   ⸻   ◜   ❏  . ⸻ the  first  snowfall  spouting  layers  of  ivory ,  lazy  mornings  curled  up  in  black  silk  sheets  with  messy  curls  and  lacy  lingerie ,  she’s made up of silk , blood , and rose water . ⸻   ◜   ❏  . ⸻  

🇦​🇵​🇵​🇱​🇮​🇨​🇦​🇹​🇮​🇴​🇳​ ​​ ››

*   ⸻   ◜   ❏  . ⸻  &.   danielle campbell  .  cis woman  .  she+her  .   |  lilith  by Saint Avangeline  |  was that  davina claire  walking around mystic falls ? last i heard , the  age in 21-year old  witch  can be found mostly around  mystic fall’s cemetery .  wonder   what   they’re   up   to   ?  she is  known  for  being  +resilient ,  but  they  can  still  be  very  -tempered  according  to  their  friends. i  heard  through  the  grapevine  that  she's  planning on finding a way to turn into a vampire without losing her magic. although we can never know for sure when it comes to mystic falls,  in the end,  it could be only rumors, right ?  . ⸻ ◜ ❏ . ⸻ .

🇧​🇦​🇸​🇮​🇨​🇸  ››

full name : davina alice claire .

age : 21 .

date of birth : december 21st.

occupation : unemployed  .

species : witch .

language(s) spoken : english  ,  latin  ,   french  .

hair color :  brown .

eye color : green .

notable scars : one faint white scar on her upper thigh. davina wandered off on her own to the woods and got lost when she was 8. She had to climb up the tree to see if she could see her home or the road and slipped where a sharp tree branch went into her leg. she tried pulling away to get the pole out but it just tore through her whole leg, before she passed out due to blood loss . if it wasn’t for ( wanted con. ) davina would have probably died of blood loss if not the cold exposure of the woods . X

🇮​🇳​🇹​🇪​🇷​🇮​🇴​🇷 ​ ››

positive : fervent  ,  strong willed .

negative : tempered  ,  unpredictable .

moral alignment : chaotic neutral .

deadly sin : lust .

hogwarts house : slytherpuff .

element : fire .

alcohol use : socially .

prone to violence? : when provoked .

drives / motivations : herself .

🇫​🇦​🇲​🇮​🇱​🇾​​  ››

father : unknown .

mother : cordelia claire . †

🇧​🇮​🇴  ››

⸻  Born and raised in NOLA to a mother who was controlling as she was, she only cared about the coven. never paid any attention to davina unless it was beneficial to her. because having davina was not part of her plans.

⸻  Her father is out of the picture but the coven hated him . that’s all she knows about her father.

⸻  When the coven choose her, davina’s mother was finally proud. For the first time davina saw her smile. But not because of her…But because of the power davina would bring. She never cared about davina living or dying , she only cared about the magic that would fuel the coven.

⸻  So when the harvest finally came, davina’s excitement and pride of being there turned to fear when they were being killed on sight.  Davina witnessed her three friends, Monique, Abigail, and Cassie all being sacrificed in the ritual, but she was with the powers she gain from all 3 she managed to kill some of the witches ( including her own mother ) when vampires interfered and she took her chance to plan and escape new orleans a week after the harvest . ending up in mystic falls.

[philoursmars]

En l'honneur du Nouvel An Chinois qui nous fait passer dans l'Année du Serpent, en voici quelques-uns !

ci des serpents archéologiques grecs et romains :

Marseille, Musée d'Histoire - expo "Terre !" - "Héraclès assisté d'Athéna combat le triple Géryon" - amphore calabraise - 530 av. J-C.

idem - "satyre poursuivant une Ménade" - skyphos athénien - 450 av. J-C.

idem - "Le cyclope Polyphème aveuglé par Ulysse" - coupe laconienne - Nola, 560 av. J-C.

Marseille, Musée d'Histoire - expo "On n'a rien inventé!" - cratère - Arles, 100 apr. J-C.

Louvre-Lens, expo "Homère" - "Laocoon et ses fils attaqués par des Serpents'" - XIXe, d'après un modèle de 100 av.J-C.

Narbonne, Musée Narbo Via - trapézophore = tréteau - 1er s. ap. J-C.

Marseille, MuCEM, expo "Alexandrie, Futurs Antérieurs" - "Io accueillie à Canope par Isis" - Pompéi, temple d'Isis, 1er s. apr. J-C.

Piazza Armerina, Villa del Casale - triclinium - "les Travaux d'Hercule"

[sanguisxferox]

{ THE ESSENTIALS }

Name: Park Min-gi Age: 38 Species: Merfolk/Siren Powers: Same as any other sirens, though their voice is abnormally powerful for someone their age (such level would be seen in siren of many centuries—if not millennia). Deity: God of Seas/Water and a bit God of Desire Gender, Pronouns, Sexual & Romantic identities: Cis-male (genderqueer). They/Them. Demisexual. Grayromantic Residence / Years:  Gentilly / ~1 month Affiliation / Years:  N/A Job / Workplace: EMT / University Medical Center New Orleans & Singer / Club Oshun Relationship status: Single Positive traits: Charming, resourceful, dedicated, confident, calm, pacifist Negative traits: God complex (as EMT), avoidant, resentful, forgetful (with names), difficulty trusting, sprinkle of sass

{ FAMILY TREE }

Family: Unknown

{ HEADCANONS }

Mingi was born in the deep waters of Jeju Island in South Korea. Their birthday is February 23th, making them a Pisces.

Mingi has a dangerously powerful voice for someone their age. It's been—for the most part—a curse more than a blessing as they struggle to this day, to know if people like them for them, or if Mingi's voice has influenced their opinion.

They have no memories before the age of 10. So they only know of what they’ve been told. Which is that their memory loss was due to an attack on the kingdom they lived in with their family that had cost many lives and the destruction of said kingdom.

They've lived full-time underwater until they turned 18. Then left to explore the world, both on land and underwater. During their time on land, they've became an EMT and an amateur singer—they keep it to bars and casinos.

They have four rings on their left hand; index being the only finger without one (image). They've always had them and for some reasons, they cannot be removed by anyone else than Mingi themselves and willingly so. They've learned over time that the rings can act as a barrier against their voice's influence. So far, they given one away; to their first true love and even after things fell apart, Mingi left them the ring.

They originally came to New Orleans when they were 24 and stayed for 4½ years. It was during those few years that they fell in love for the first time and had their first heartbreak.

While they don't know the finer details, Mingi knows about the on-going factions war and more specifically about the Deathrunners which they almost joined. They're aware that their return to NOLA might force their hand into fighting too one day, but they'll avoid it as long as they can.

Mingi doesn't know why they came back to NOLA other than thinking that they felt a pull they couldn't resist.

When they aren’t swimming around to get to places, Mingi can be found riding their motorcycle.

They have a god complex as an EMT, systematically refusing to let anyone die on their watch whether willing or not and they don’t shy away from using their voice at work either.

Though, behind everything there's a secret about Mingi’s past that many people died to keep hidden and that even Mingi themselves have no clue about.

Mingi stands at 1.83m (6ft) with a calm, striking presence. Their dark brown hair―on the longer side and styled in soft waves―frames a face defined by a strong jawline and full lips. Their large, almond-shaped eyes convey quiet intensity, revealing depth and thoughtfulness. They dress androgynously, easily switching between masculine and feminine styles—one day wearing tailored suits, the next, donning a long skirt or crop top with heels. Despite the svelte nature of their appearance and attire, their surprisingly muscular arms and forearms become evident when wearing short sleeves. Mingi exudes a composed, soft and mysterious aura, with a natural, but ethereal scent like the warm, salty breeze of the ocean.

{ CONNECTIONS }

Ricardo Jimenez / first love & ex-boyfriend: They met back when Ric was 21 and Mingi was 25. They were friends for 2 years before becoming boyfriends. The relationship lasted for a year and a half. Things fell apart after an event that was a really close call for both of them and because Ric's dedication/loyalty to the Deathrunners became too important for Mingi. They broke up of mutual accord, but both were left heartbroken.

Suresh Lal / employer: They respect Suresh and feels like they owe him a lot for the chance he gave them twice—first time they came to NOLA and then now, ten years later. Mingi knows they’re the best singer Suresh has and likes to playfully banter with the naga, but it always comes from a place of warmth and kindness. Suresh is also one of the few people in the city toward whom Mingi was instinctively drawn to.

Versi Singh / close (gamer) friends: Mingi met both a few years ago while gaming online. First it was just for gaming and then it turned into real friendship. The siren had initially no idea that both were now residing in NOLA before moving back there. They like that both of them have a genuine kind soul.

Emiliano de la Rosa / friend?: They met the first year Mingi had arrived in NOLA. At first, Mingi sang to calm him and eventually developed some kind of camaraderie. A few weeks before all fell apart for the siren, they’d given a locket to him that when opened, he’d hear Mingi’s voice.

Levi Allaire / travelling buddy: They met Levi not long after leaving New Orleans while traveling around the world and they’ve been travelling on and off until summer 2024 when Levi finally settled down.

more tba

{ WANTED CONNECTIONS }

tba

[lo-diehards]

What Law & Order Thursday Could Look Like Next Season as Organized Crime Moves to Peacock

What Law & Order Thursday Could Look Like Next Season as Organized Crime Moves to Peacock

Could a Criminal Intent Reboot Be the Answer?

Coming off the heels of my recent post on the current state of the franchise and the news that broke earlier this week (via The Hollywood Reporter) - Law & Order: Organized Crime has a deal being made to be renewed to run a fifth season, exclusively on Peacock for 10 episodes, the first time an L&O series will air first-run episodes on a streaming service. NBC has yet to announce any plans on the 3rd hour of Law & Order Thursday, which begs the question is: what will Thursday nights look like next season as there will likely be a void in the 3rd hour without another L&O series in its place?

NBC's newest arrivals, Found and The Irrational could potentially be scheduled on Thursdays in the new season. NBC also has two dramas, Dr. Wolf and The Hunting Party, set for next season, with two more drama pilots: Suits L.A. (spinoff from USA Network's original series, Suits) and Grosse Pointe Garden Society — in the works. Meanwhile, NBC could also acquire rights to air Canada's CityTV's version of L&O, Law & Order Toronto: Criminal Intent (10 episode 1st season) -- which hasn't been renewed for a 2nd season as of yet.

But from a Law & Order franchise/Wolf World perspective, this is a chance to see if there is another new iteration of the brand that can be in addition to the already robust brand as Wolf's worlds continually build themselves (the FBI franchise on CBS as well as One Chicago on NBC Wednesdays - which all are renewed for the upcoming season).

We all know pilot order spin-offs Hate Crimes (co created by Criminal Intent and SVU executive producer Warren Leight, originally posed for Peacock) and For The Defense (co created by CSI veteran executive producer Carol Mendelsohn) went to the back-burner and never became series. Also Wolf has the True Crime iteration (co creator L&O and CI executive producer Rene Balcer) of the brand that while isn't canceled in an official capacity, NBC hasn't shown recent interest in seeing it go on. Then there are 3 canceled former spinoffs; Criminal Intent (ended in 2011), Los Angeles (ended in 2011), and Trial by Jury (ended in 2005).

In interviews (one here via TV Line) and across social media, former stars Vincent D'Onofrio (Det. Robert Goren), Kathryn Erbe (Lt. Alexandra Eames), Alicia Witt (Det. Nola Falacci), and Annabella Sciorra (Lt. Carolyn Barek) as well as former executive producers Warren Leight, Julie Martin, Norberto Barba, and Michael Chernuchin - who all reunited as executive producers on SVU - have shown or voiced interest in a TV reboot of some kind. Star D'Onofrio stated on Twitter/X that the decision to reboot would ultimately be up to creator Dick Wolf but that he would love to reunite with Kathryn to do it.

The question is: would a Criminal Intent reboot be worth it for Wolf Entertainment/NBC to reboot and/or would it suffer the same fate as Organized Crime?

The answer? Yes. It would be totally be worth it for all involved. While stating the obvious, it brings our old favorites back into a new era of television and showing that element of the criminal mind and "why dunnit" in this new age that we live in, and of course the number of new jobs created as well as old jobs reopened; to this day Criminal Intent has something that Organized Crime hasn't, and that is syndication rights with a solid following still tuning in (even after the show has been off the air well over a decade)!

It is a factor that helped reboot the mothership series back in 2022 after NBC canceled it in 2010, the solid audience of syndication viewers (i.e. TNT, ION Television, WEtv), sales from home entertainment (DVDs/Amazon) and streaming services (Peacock) aided in NBC making the decision easy to reboot the flagship Law & Order series. And while the reboot isn't NBC's highest rated show, it's in the top 20 and performs pretty solid, enough to score a full 22-episode twenty-fourth (S4 of reboot), season next season. It also proves to be a great lead-in for SVU (renewed for S26), that comes on right after.

And much like the reboot and even SVU which has reinvented itself more than once over it's 25 seasons, not only could old viewers return, but this also opens the door to introduce the series to new viewers as well, especially if our favorites do make a return on screen.

What do you all think? With Organized Crime going to Peacock, could a Criminal Intent (or other spinoff) reboot help revitalize NBC Thursday nights as well as the franchise? Or is it time to try something new with the brand? Sound off!

[bludbound]

     𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟⧸𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒 :   davina alice claire   ››   witch   ››  danielle campbell  .

❛❛   aesthetic.  ❜❜   ⸻   ◜   ❏  . ⸻ the  first  snowfall  spouting  layers  of  ivory ,  lazy  mornings  curled  up  in  black  silk  sheets  with  messy  curls  and  lacy  lingerie ,  she’s made up of silk , blood , and rose water . ⸻   ◜   ❏  . ⸻  →

🇦​🇵​🇵​🇱​🇮​🇨​🇦​🇹​🇮​🇴​🇳​ ​​ ››

*   ⸻   ◜   ❏  . ⸻  &.  →   〈 danielle campbell › cis woman › she+her › 19 〉 ——— a grand welcome to the vieux carré, davina alice claire. with a city as diverse as this, there’s a new threat on almost every corner. being a witch might provide some protection but their biggest strength may come from being loyal to herself. whispers say they’re from the past. can it all be believed? just keep an eye on them and see if their true colors shine through . ⸻ ◜ ❏ . ⸻ .

🇧​🇦​🇸​🇮​🇨​🇸  ››

full name : davina alice claire .

age : 19 .

date of birth : december 21st.

occupation : unemployed  .

species : witch .

language(s) spoken : english  ,  latin  ,   french  .

hair color :  brown .

eye color : green .

notable scars : one faint white scar on her upper thigh. davina wandered off on her own to the woods and got lost when she was 8. She had to climb up the tree to see if she could see her home or the road and slipped where a sharp tree branch went into her leg. she tried pulling away to get the pole out but it just tore through her whole leg, before she passed out due to blood loss . if it wasn’t for ( wanted con. ) davina would have probably died of blood loss if not the cold exposure of the woods . X

affiliation : herself .

🇮​🇳​🇹​🇪​🇷​🇮​🇴​🇷 ​ ››

positive : fervent  ,  strong willed .

negative : tempered  ,  unpredictable .

moral alignment : chaotic neutral .

deadly sin : lust .

hogwarts house : slytherpuff .

element : fire .

alcohol use : socially .

prone to violence? : when provoked .

drives / motivations : herself .

🇫​🇦​🇲​🇮​🇱​🇾​​  ››

father : unknown .

mother : cordelia claire . †

🇧​🇮​🇴  ››

davina growing up :

⸻  Born and raised in NOLA to a mother who was controlling as she was, she only cared about the coven. never paid any attention to davina unless it was beneficial to her. because having davina was not part of her plans.

⸻  Her father is out of the picture but the coven hated him . that’s all she knows about her father.

⸻  When the coven choose her, davina’s mother was finally proud. For the first time davina saw her smile. But not because of her…But because of the power davina would bring. She never cared about davina living or dying , she only cared about the magic that would fuel the coven.

⸻  So when the harvest finally came, davina’s excitement and pride of being there turned to fear when they were being killed on sight.  Davina witnessed her three friends, Monique, Abigail, and Cassie all being sacrificed in the ritual, but she was with the powers she gain from all 3 she managed to kill some of the witches ( including her own mother ) when marcel interfered and took her chance to plan and escape new orleans a week after the harvest .

so all is canon except rather than the attic davina moved in to a place of her own after some time in the attic . the rest is history which you can find HERE .  

[pynkhues]

Hi, I wanted to say that you're incredible writer, though I must admit it's hard for me to read your fics more than once, because you're one of the few writers who write louis in character and exploit all parts of him, including unsavory ones. I guess your writing makes me reflect on louis' ruthless side more than anything else. Please take this as a compliment, because it is!

I have questions for you, if you don't mind answering, you can pick which ones you're interested in the most, obviously :)

You mentioned that you think louis won't like lestat in drag based on clothes he handpicked for him and reaction to Mardi Gras outfit. Do you think it can cause certain friction between loustat if lestat starts experimenting with his clothes in modern times, like it was hinted by inspirations (Rocky Horror, Hedwig and the angry inch etc) I don't doubt they share some tastes but definitely not for everything, Louis is a person who probably will comment on your outfit choice and lestat isn't person who's gonna change wardrobe that he likes because of someone (in ep1 he changed it because it was centuries old, which won't be a case here)

Kinda similar to first question, but if hypothetically Lestat starts to ponder his gender identity, perhaps paralleling Gabrielle, will it send Louis in crisis of his own? I've been thinking for a while now, Louis seems so certain of his identity as gay cis man(good for him /gen) that it's tempting to put him in situation where he has to reflect on that, and lestat going "well, maybe I'm not 100% man" seems like something that would leave louis incredibly confused.

Do you think loustat would be as toxic as they're in human au? Would absence of some traumas for both of them make them better at relationship? Would lestat be as abusive as he was during Nola days (asking dangerous questions....), would he be as capable of physical abuse as he was in show? Would louis still wield words and withholding as a weapon?

Ties with previous question: what do you think would be jobs and statuses of loustat in modern human au? Fandom looooves making lestat rich but it's important that he got his money from Magnus. And louis is first ever capitalist vampire lol I don't get how he ends up being librarian who does community work. It's fascinating to think what lestat would achieve as struggling artist who doesn't get money in exchange for his mortality, in what circumstances would he meet louis, how differently they would view each other as poor and rich rather than rich and rich like in canon

Thank you so much for your writing and answers 💛

Hi! Thank you so much, and that's fair, haha. I do always try to balance Louis' tenderness with his more ruthless side, especially because his capacity for both is one of my favourite things about him, but I appreciate that that's not always what people want from fics.

In answering your questions (I've bolded your questions to hopefully make it easier to read!)

You mentioned that you think louis won't like lestat in drag based on clothes he handpicked for him and reaction to Mardi Gras outfit. Do you think it can cause certain friction between loustat if lestat starts experimenting with his clothes in modern times, like it was hinted by inspirations (Rocky Horror, Hedwig and the angry inch etc) I don't doubt they share some tastes but definitely not for everything, Louis is a person who probably will comment on your outfit choice and lestat isn't person who's gonna change wardrobe that he likes because of someone (in ep1 he changed it because it was centuries old, which won't be a case here)

Mm, I don't know if I think Lestat in drag itself would cause friction between them, so much as when and how he wears it? I mean, Louis loves Lestat deeply, and his flamboyance and experimental nature is a pretty key aspect of who Lestat is. It's a part of the package of him, and Louis knows that and I think does love that about him, even if it might not necessarily be always who he thought he'd end up with? When I say that I don't think Louis would be into Lestat in drag, it's more in the context that there's this increasing fanon that Louis would find it really hot, and I think the way Louis dressed up Dreamstat is genuinely indicative of the way he's probably the most physically attracted to him, but also the way he likes to perceive him when he's fantasising about him because - - well. He was fantasising about him.

I also think the way we've seen Lestat in drag at Mardi Gras so far has been about Lestat the performer. Him being dressed again in menswear for the intimate scenes with Louis at the same event I think were very much about separating the Lestat that's for everyone and the Lestat that, for Louis, is his. Hell, it's not a coincidence that the line 'I wanted him dead, I wanted him all to myself' occurs not just when they first see each other on the ballroom floor, but after Lestat's finished performing for the crowd. I think that is what might cause friction, because in a lot of ways Lestat in drag vs Lestat in menswear that night marked the separation between Lestat the Performer and Lestat the Companion/Husband aka the Lestat that Louis knows he has to share, and is willing to share (sometimes), and the Lestat that Louis doesn't want to share at all.

In my head at least, I see that as being where the friction lies more so than in the drag itself. How that translates to Lestat wearing more gender fluid clothes at home or only with Louis - - I don't know! We haven't seen that yet, but I do think Louis' got complicated feelings about Lestat performing and seeking attention that are exacerbated by both possessiveness and insecurity (especially given Lestat was performing and making music with Antoinette). Does that make sense? I hope it makes sense, haha, I was out too late last night.

Other answers below the cut (and hopefully a bit shorter, haha).

Kinda similar to first question, but if hypothetically Lestat starts to ponder his gender identity, perhaps paralleling Gabrielle, will it send Louis in crisis of his own? I've been thinking for a while now, Louis seems so certain of his identity as gay cis man(good for him /gen) that it's tempting to put him in situation where he has to reflect on that, and lestat going "well, maybe I'm not 100% man" seems like something that would leave louis incredibly confused.

I mean, Anne's pretty clear in the books that a lot of the vampires get to the point where they basically transcend gender, really, so I could see the show flirting with all of that longer-term? I agree that Louis currently seems pretty certain of his identity as a gay cis man, but they live long lives and gender is certainly going to be more of a factor next season one way or the other with Gabrielle's introduction.

I honestly have no idea how he might approach it (or even how Lestat might), but it'll be interesting to see what that could look like.

Do you think loustat would be as toxic as they're in human au? Would absence of some traumas for both of them make them better at relationship? Would lestat be as abusive as he was during Nola days (asking dangerous questions....), would he be as capable of physical abuse as he was in show? Would louis still wield words and withholding as a weapon?

I mean, I think that would really depend on the context that you're writing them in an AU? They've both experienced pretty immense traumas even before they're turned into vampires in the show - from Louis' experience of racist oppression and systemic violence, to the loss of his father, to his brother's suicide, to Lestat's experience of family violence and neglect, childhood poverty and - depending if you include it given it's entwined with his vampiric start - rape.

I guess how toxic their relationship would be if they were in a human setting would depend on how much either of them have dealt with that baggage and how much you think removing their vampirism would change how they interact, because they do behave in heightened states of monstrosity in the show because as vampires they are monsters. It's the point of the genre and it's the point of the trope. So yeah, for any Human!AU, I'd say it would depend on who's writing it, and what genre they're intending to write it as, as to how toxic they would be.

Ties with previous question: what do you think would be jobs and statuses of loustat in modern human au? Fandom looooves making lestat rich but it's important that he got his money from Magnus. And louis is first ever capitalist vampire lol I don't get how he ends up being librarian who does community work. It's fascinating to think what lestat would achieve as struggling artist who doesn't get money in exchange for his mortality, in what circumstances would he meet louis, how differently they would view each other as poor and rich rather than rich and rich like in canon

Oh my gosh, yes! I'm always so fascinated by what jobs people pick out for them in human!AUs, pretty much for the exact reasons you've said. That said, I did really like satin-and-tat's Babymoon picks which had Louis running a gallery and Lestat a composer for film scores. It felt like neat choices for both of them.

I do think it kind of depends on the era that you're setting them in? Like the Courtesan!AU I'm writing still has Louis running a brothel and Lestat as a struggling actor who kind of falls into being a courtesan. Rolin's talked about it as being important to the character that Louis has a sort of casual view to the use of people for financial gain in the same way that book!Louis was a plantation owner which is why he made him a pimp, and that really makes sense to me too / feels like a factor to consider when thinking about Louis and work? I think there are a lot of ways you could do that in more modern settings, like by having him as like - - a tech executive or a Wall Street guy?

After being in court a couple of weeks ago and seeing the bloodsport of that, I could see him as a lawyer these days too (actually I kind of like that, especially as my sister's law firm has an insane amount of original art, haha). I think it still works to have him as an art dealer or gallery owner too though, and I think he should definitely come from money too, because Louis does in canon. It's even in Jacob's interview about Louis being a snob that he's never actually experienced financial hardship, even if there was a period of perhaps insecurity with his father's failing business.

Lestat I think is pretty easy to keep in creative industries, whether that be acting or music. Him being a performer feels so essential to his character, but I think you can have a lot of fun with how you can do that and the things you could build around that. Like you can have him be the rockstar and Louis the tech exec, or like maybe he's working as a cater waiter around auditions and meets Louis at some bougie black tie event Louis' a guest at, or maybe Lestat's a street performer lawyer Louis passes on his way to court chambers every day, or Lestat's teaching an acting class for kids and art dealer Louis' also a single dad who enrols his daughter in the class! The possibilities are endless!!

[atlasnolanarchive]

RAPID FIRE.

Faceclaim: Barry Keoghan.

Name: Atlas Nolas.

Pronouns & Gender: He/Him, Cis Man.

Birthday: 05/30/1995.

Occupation: Attendant @ Starship Arcade.

Neighborhood: Celestial Drive

How long have they been in Starlight Oaks? 9 years.

Three positive traits: Free-spirited, loyal, spontaneous.

Three negative traits: Aimless, distractible, envious.

tw drugs, child neglect

OVERVIEW.

-- First born child to a mother who probably should never have been a mother, something Nina Nolan would admit herself if she could ever be tied down long enough for an honest conversation on that.

-- Atlas had to practically raise himself and his sister from a young age. Though their mother was technically present, she had spells of going missing for days on and leaving them alone in various motel rooms in Orlando that they called him until having to move on to the next one.

-- Despite the nurturing skills she lacked, his mother was the type who loved a party and was always one of the last ones left shutting the bar down, something that's rubbed off on Atlas.

-- It was an expectation that both he and his sister had to pitch in whenever they could to keep a roof over their heads (and their mother's bad habits funded) which is how Atlas started to shoplift at a young age. Small things at first because he was scared of getting caught, but he gradually grew bolder and bolder about the things he would lift.

-- He has numerous arrests and past charges as a minor and as an adult for theft.

-- Education was never made much of a priority, and it was rare for him to actually attend a full month of school consecutively. Due to this, Atlas never finished high school. After ending up in the system as a pre-teen once child services intervened after another of Nina's vanishing acts, the constant moves heightened the disinterest he had already had about learning as a kid and by sixteen he had dropped out altogether.

-- He made a pact with his sister before they were separated and placed in different homes that when they both turned eighteen they would meet up in Washington and reunite.

-- He first first landed in a trailer park outside of town when he arrived to Starlight Oaks, staying in a trailer there before eventually being able to move into a house on Celestial Drive that's needed the same set of repairs since he first moved in seven years ago (they're still to be done).

-- He's worked various jobs to keep himself afloat, a lot of which have ended up in him being fired for poor attendance or bad behaviour.

-- Loves to throw loud and raucous house parties at his, which has gotten him into trouble with some of his neighbors over the years.

-- Currently, he's passing his time as an attendant at the Arcade. It's his longest steady employment to date (8 months as of Jan. 2024)

SORTA FUN FACTS.

His desire to move to Washington was due to a postcard he received as a child from his 'dad'. It depicted Washington on the front and on the back it just said 'I'm proud of you son - Dad'. He received it when he was six after it was slipped under the door of the motel he was staying in in Orlando. He has no idea currently that the postcard wasn't from his father but rather the motel's caretaker, Jack, who felt bad for how often the young boy would talk about the dad he had never met.

For the longest time he thought At Last by Etta James was actually a song called Atlas. To this day, if it plays on the radio he still sings Atlas instead.

His karaoke song of choice is Gloria by Laura Branigan. It's his mom's favorite song and one of the few he knows all the words to.

Has various tattoos on his body, half of which are from when he was drunk and let someone draw on him at one of his house parties before getting it yatted permanently.

Is wary of wealthy people.

He's never been on an airplane in his life.

Has never been to Disney World despite spending the first 11 years of his life in close proximity to it.

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

close friend / other half of a whole moron of @sunbcthe

constantly shot down by @sasikamatthews

arcade idiots / friend of @kaiisms

one time air-hockey nemesis turned unlikely besties with @miikcs

getting to know / will be positively influenced by @cosmicallyhadlee

party aquaintances with @rosesraleigh

SPECIFIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

ppl who attend his messy houseparties KJHGSH doesn't have to be just celestial drive residents! pretty much an open door policy at casa del nolan.

co-workers at the arcade!!

wealthy ppl who kill time there that he can side-eye 👀

friends / ride or dies

frenemies/friends who only fuck with each other when they're drunk and/or partying but on a normal day its like nah fuck you KJSHGH

neighbors from celestial drive (can be positive or negative!)

someone he's in a toxic situationship with (always fighting and falling out then rekindling and can never figure out what they are so its just a messy cycle) plotting required!

connects he knows through his sister

former co-workers / former bosses (he's def bounced around a ton of minimum wage jobs while in SO so timeline is fluid and can be figured out!)

people who he's shoplifted stuff for (if he thinks he can get it and get away with it, he'll lift something by request and sell it to the person for half the price)

people he's gotten into fights with (he can be hotheaded and doesn't think things through when he's drinking)

ppl he gets high with (pretty game for anything but rarely goes harder than coke)

someone with their life together who can take him under their wing a little and help him figure out a path that isn't just him spinning out day in and day out

hookups, fwb, usual jazz.

GENERIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

connections wise he’s pretty much an open book right now, but some baseline ideas that can be springboarded off are:

friendly.

a best friend / ride or dies / close friends / childhood friends from florida / pseudo-siblings / friends / drunk friends / positive influences / new friends / people who were also in care in florida / former co-workers.

romantic

flirtationship / friends with benefits / one time hook ups / tinder matches / unrequited crush (can be either way) / exes on good terms.

antagonistic.

enemies / former (best) friends / exes on bad terms / frenemies / rivals / negative influence / people who don’t fuck with him.

[graveyardgason]

amant dubois is a thirty year old half-god from nola, louisiana and is the son of lku, the orisha personification of death. he's been at camp for about a week and is a little elated about being in the ark. reid is a charmer, optimistic, and performative kind of fellow. only time will tell what will happen to one of our intrepid heroes !

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄.    amant dobois 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐒.    none 𝐀𝐆𝐄.     30 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 & 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒.     cis male & he / him 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.     pansexual 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒.     half god ( son of iku ) 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.     performer

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑.     black 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒.     pale gray (previously brown) 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.     6'2 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃.     lean, muscular build 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒.     none 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒.    various tattoos cover his body. mostly spread out across his arms and back. notable: he has a tattoo in the virgin's mary's design in his mother's image on his right arm. a voodoo symbol of protection in honor of his gran gran on his back ( away from his mother's eyes ), a deck of playing cards on his right shoulder. 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.     none 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌.    kofi siriboe

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.     lawful good 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒.     charming, optimistic, and performative 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒.     stubborn, vain, and rowdy 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒.     performer, assisting with funeral marches conducted by his family's church, tour guide, lover

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋.     optimistic that all things happen as the grand design has planned 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋.     enhanced condition to being a demigod 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐀𝐒.     spiders 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.     20/20 𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃.     right 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆 𝐔𝐒𝐄.     weed smoker 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋 𝐔𝐒𝐄.     rum connoisseur 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓.     no diet restrictions or preferences

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒.     anna marie dubois ( biological mother ), iku ( biological father ), rev. edmond dubois ( step father ) 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒.     gran gran josephine ( biological grandmother, mother's side ), pa pa gaston ( biological grandfather, mother's side / deceased ) 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.     n/a 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒.     n/a 𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.     high school graduate 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒.     musically gifted singer, pianist, guitarist, drummer, trumpeter, card trick performer, runner ( not trained just did a lot of running to avoid caught when he was younger ) 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏.     thirty, accepted invitation

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

AMANT has been surrounded by death since he was a child. His grandfather owned a funeral home that his mother took over after marrying the man Amant believed to be his father. Never afraid when sitting with his pa pa while he prepared bodies for their funerals. He always enjoyed sitting in the back of funeral's led by his step father and just be in awe of how Rev. Edmond was able to lift the spirits of others. Death never brought him sorrow but was a moment of celebration. He remembered how happy he was to play for his pa pa's funeral. It was a big moment for Amant because this was also when he first met his gran gran. Amant never knew why his grandmother was such a sensitive topic for his family until he was older. His grandfather and mother were devote Catholics while his gran gran was a voodoo practitioner. This brought something of a rift between the family that originated when Amant was still a baby. But he would sneak off often to see his gran gran after the funeral. He was capable of building some bridge between them, enough that gran gran was invited to Amant's birthdays and special events. He had a gift for bringing people together. And like his step father a power to lift spirits, through his music. But his gran gran would always tell him there was something divine in his path. Often starring at him as if peering into his soul. Which, now seeing the truth about his true father, he wondered if she could see something through her divine sight. Either way he leaves his home with a heavy heart but optimistic for what his gran gran once foresaw he was destined for.