#amc cut me my check!

[ghouldump]

hi i love your writing unfortunately there aren't many fics for the iwtv so tysm!!

i was wondering if you could write something about louis lestat and claudia with a (vamp?) reader that accidently timetraveld

Back In My Arms | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.

thank you and I agree, especially the amc version compared to the movie. The other posts are coming, but I had to rush and get this one out because it was so gut wrenching for me 😭 LOL

“What do you think? The blue or the purple,” you held the dresses to your body.

“I prefer your birthday suit,” Lestat said over the classical music, making you roll your eyes at him. Could he ever be serious when you needed him to be?

“Louis,” you called out, wanting a real opinion.

“Hm? Oh, the purple” he was hardly listening, more focused on the pages of the book.

“So the blue, got it,” you grumbled, storming away, to finish packing your things.

“Ma chèrie, why are you leaving again? It truly makes no sense to me why you remain friends with this mortal,” Lestat said.

“I don't see why you care, it's not like either of you will notice I’m away,” you said, as you closed the bag.

“Don't say that, we do notice,” Louis said, defensively.

“I'll only be away for a night,” you mumbled, checking your appearance in the mirror, and slinging the bag over your shoulder.

“Stay, you can give us a more detailed visual representation of the dresses,” Lestat said, straightening his posture when you scoffed.

“Sex doesn't fix everything”

“It is a start”

“And maybe that's why we’re in the situation we’re in, now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going hang with my mortal friend, who communicates with me and doesn't want to block out our problems with Mozart, books, and sex,” you said, storming out of the townhouse, making sure to slam the door.

Getting into your car, you began to drive to your close friend, George, or Georgie, you called him both. He was middle-aged, although he was closing in on becoming elderly. He'd oftentimes been told he resembled Bill Nye, but those comments usually only made him red in the face, before he sent a storm of swear words at the person, in his thick Cajun accent. Divorced and cut out of his kid's lives, he was lonely, but so were you. Georgie was the only mortal to ever know that you were a vampire, and he made you feel normal.

Although having a few questions at first, he eventually let the matter go, and hardly ever brought it up. The two of you had been friends for nearly a decade now, and you planned to hold on until the bitter end. He wasn't too keen on being turned, scorned by his wife leaving him and his children siding with her. Lestat and Louis weren't comfortable with your friendship at all, but after realizing your relationship was completely platonic and you weren't cutting him out of your life, they grungily accepted him.

As you finally parked in front of Georgie’s house, approaching the door, you shook your head, discovering it was unlocked. Letting yourself in, you locked the door, going to where you'd both hang out for hours, his basement.

“You need to keep your door locked old man, anyone could just walk in here,” you said, going down the stairs. Tossing your bag onto the couch you'd usually sleep on, in the windowless room.

“Nobody comes here but you,” he said, making you laugh.

“So how is it going?” you asked, sitting in a nearby chair.

“A little more progress than last time, how are things at home?”

“Lestat is…well Lestat and Louis will always act like our issues aren't there,” you shrugged.

“Have you tried talking to them?”

“Of course, Lestat doesn't take anything seriously enough, and Louis wants to brush over it all,” you said.

“Hopefully, this is a success, because then we can fix everything,” Georgie smiled.

“Maybe you, but I don't see my problems being fixed”

“Don't underestimate science,” he told you.

Georgie had been working on an actual time-machine portal. He believed if he could go back in time, undo his mistakes, could prioritize his family over work, maybe that would stop his wife from having an affair with the neighbor, from leaving him and draining his wallet, and taking his children who he couldn't even get a happy birthday from.

He insisted that you would be able to use it, to repair your companionship. A long time had passed since 1910 and much tragedy and heartbreak happened. Separating from each other and eventually reconnecting, recently everything had been so stagnant and bland. No energy to argue about obvious conflicts, but unwilling to leave each other again and be forced to deal with the pain.

“Oh, my goodness,” Georgie stood up, his hand going to his chest. Your eyes widened, worried that he would croak.

“What is it?” you asked, you couldn't sense any internal issues, noticing his thoughts were jumping for joy.

“I think…I think it works,” he said, as he began to type on the nearby computer. The pod he'd spent years building, lit up, the white light faint.

“It turns on, how will you know if it works for real?” you asked.

“Could you maybe catch a few raccoons, rats, birds, anything, we can try on them,” he asked. Standing up, you went outside, quickly grabbing a rat from near the drainage, bringing it to him.

“Done,” you smiled, holding it firm, tossing it in the pod, as he opened the door. The rat squeaked a bit, running in circles, as Georgie typed.

The machine began to make a noise before the rat burst. It’s guts splattering on the door.

“Ew, what happened?” you asked him, pressing against the door, to look inside in disgust.

“It seems like it is releasing some sort of radiation, too strong for animals and people, I'll have to keep working on it,” he grumbled disappointedly.

“I could try it if you want,” you offered.

“The radiation will be damaging-

“In case you forgot, I’m hardly human anymore, I am a bit intrigued, the worst thing that could honesty happen is I get burned up, and I’ll heal,” you said, as he faced you.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to do this, Y/n,” he said, but you brushed him off.

“Trust me, I don't, but you've put so much time into this, almost as long as I've known you, I want this to work out for you,” you said.

“Okay, let me get suited up, to clean it first,” he said, changing into the nbc suit to clean the inside of the pod. While waiting for him, you checked your phone, seeing a message from Louis.

“Sending a picture of the dress, I’m sure you look beautiful as always”

Smiling softly, you set your phone on the counter, taking your shoes off, watching as Georgie scrubbed the blood away. Little did Louis know, you wouldn't be wearing the dress to go hunting tonight. As soon as he finished cleaning, he was back at your side, typing on the monitor.

“We’ll do, let's say 5 minutes into the future, I’ll think of a number and when you come back, tell me the number, and time it to see if there is a significant change in time,” he said, as you nodded in agreement, accepting the small stopwatch, stepping into the pod.

Your arms at your sides, you briefly gave him a thumbs up, hoping to reassure his anxious thoughts. Typing on the computer, the pod began to light up again, the noise leaking out before it started to shake. Standing up, Georgie stood with his eyes wide, his jaw dropping as you vanished.

“Oh my Lord, it's working,” he said, his hand shakily went to his mouth.

Back at home, Louis and Lestat were relaxing, leisurely lounging around when it happened. A sudden feeling of dread washed over them as if you were gone. Glancing at each other, both of them stood up, rushing from the house to your friend, George's home. Bursting through the door, they went downstairs.

George looked back, gasping, surprised to see the elder vampires. However, before he could say anything or move, Lestat had him pressed against the wall, his hand around his neck.

“What did you do?”

“M-machine,” he choked out, looking over at the pod.

“Lestat, look,” Louis said, staring at the pod, fog seeping from the bottom.

“What is this?” he continued, looking to George.

“Time machine,” he struggled to say, before Lestat dropped him.

“You didn't put her into your experiment,” Louis said out loud, shaking his head, already pacing the floor.

“She offered, and it was only five minutes into the fut-

Suddenly, within the fog, you could be seen, smiling in excitement from the exhilaration of the atoms passing through your body. Your smile quickly faltered, seeing your lovers and a nervous Georgie.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Get her out of it, now,” Lestat told Georgie.

“Leave him alone,” you argued.

“This isn't safe, Y/n, we thought you were gone,” Louis told you.

“Don't parent me, Louis”

“Get her out of it now, or it will be destroyed,” Lestat said, shoving George into the computer, his hands smashing against the keyboard.

“Stop it, Lestat,” you yelled.

“What did you do?” George stressed, as the machine lit up. Typing as quickly as possible, he couldn't see the results that he needed.

“Y/n, he made me press a few buttons, it is going to the past, I don't know how far, but I’m going to fix it,” Georgie said apologetic.

“What?” Lestat and Louis said at the same time.

“Do not kill him, fucking asshole,” you said before vanishing.

“Can you bring her right back?” Louis asked.

“I don't even know how far it has brought her”

“Well figure it out,” Lestat snapped.

“This is your fault, she told me all about you and your ugly ways,” George said. Tilting his head, Lestat was about to reach for him, but Louis grabbed his arm.

“He has to bring her back to us,” he reminded him.

“She is going somewhere in the 19th century, I can't pinpoint where and when. Time should be a little longer through the pod, so I’d estimate a few hours for us if it is a success”

“For us?” Louis asked.

“IF it is a success?” Lestat screamed at the same time as him. George truly didn't understand what you saw in the dramatic man, other than his good looks.

“I've been studying this for some time now and with time travel, it could feel like days, or even longer, but in reality, it should only be a few hours, and I say if because we haven't tried going to the past. The pod isn't sustainable for the undead and Y/n getting in was the first actual progress of real-time travel,” he explained.

“Maybe one of us could go in and-

“No, that is the worst solution, we don't know where she went, so I wouldn't know where to send you and it is only one pod, and overloading the database is the last thing that needs to happen, we’ll give it a few hours,” George said, standing.

“Where are you going?” Lestat asked him.

“Have a glass of wine, if it could take a few hours, I’m going to relax for a while, you're free to make yourselves comfortable,” he said, stepping out of the NBC suit, before going up the stairs.

“We just have to wait,” Louis reassured Lestat, who stood staring at the pod, unable to believe this was happening.

As the pod finally stopped shaking, you peered outside at the change of setting. You were outside, Georgie nowhere to be seen. Turning on the stopwatch, you muttered an apology to him, before punching the thick glass and pushing the door open. Immediately, you recognized the familiarly different environment.

Your bare feet touching the dirt, you recognized the small, poorly built houses. You hadn't seen these houses in ages after Katrina wiped the remaining pieces away.

“Hey, what are you doing-

“You saw no one here, and you won't let anyone get near this precious contraption, now go on inside,” you glamoured the man, watching as he went back up the stairs, into the house.

Sighing, you began to leave the area, ignoring the strange stares. From the way everyone dressed, you were somewhere between the first three decades of the 19th century, and you were sticking out like a sore wearing the knee-length sundress. There was only one place you knew to go, to be sure of the date.

Coming to a complete stop in front of your home, you could see the lights on. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that if they were here, this wasn't the same Louis and Lestat you were having issues with, and so you'd have to act accordingly.

Opening the door, you could hear the shuffling of feet and the sound of furniture being torn apart. Furrowing your eyebrows, you went upstairs, surprised to see them in that room. Making eye contact with Louis, he did a double take.

“Y/n,” he said, taken away by your beautiful, he hadn't seen a dress made in such a way before, shorter than average, but still classy.

Hearing your name, Lestat opened that lovely pink coffin, climbing out, and tossing the diary to the side.

“Ma chérie, you stopped for shopping?” he asked, a small smirk in place.

“Did you see her?” Louis finally asked. At a loss of words, you struggled to speak for a moment.

“I'm sorry, I'm not feeling like myself, what year is it?” you asked.

“1920, you alright?” Louis asked, approaching you.

“Look who finally decided to crawl home to her coffin and write about her psychosexual behavior,” Lestat spat.

“You read my diary?” hearing that beloved voice, your eyes began to sting.

“Only a little bit,” Louis confessed.

“I read all of it and you are a little deviant brat,” Lestat said, as you slowly turned around. The bloody tears began trickling down your cheeks, as you stared into her eyes. She was real, in the flesh, not a figment from your dreams or old photos, but was here in front of you.

“Claudia,” you said, her name flowing from your lips caused you to visibly tremble.

“Mama,” she started, concerned, her eyes widening as you rushed over, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

Weeping bitterly, you held her close, unwilling to let her slip away this time, whispering sweet words of love to her. Confusedly, she hugged you back, as you both sat on the floor, holding her in your arms.

While the two men were originally set on disciplining their wild daughter, their concern now shifted to you.

“Claudia, you've been reckless-

“They're buried in Chalmette,” you interrupted, Lestat, your hand comfortingly brushing over her curls.

“How do you know that?” Louis asked, but you ignored him.

“My beautiful girl,” you whispered, hugging her one last time tightly, before letting her go.

“Are you okay, mama?”

“I couldn't be better at this moment,” you reassured her, kissing her forehead.

“Let her off this time, please, for me, she's still a child, and there will be a time when we wish we still had our beautiful girl staying here with us,” you said, facing them, seeing your blood-stained face, they were beyond concerned.

“It's still a little early for bed, perhaps you'd like to play a game of chess?” you asked her, wiping your eyes and accepting her hand, as she stood up.

Going into the living room, Claudia couldn't help but think about how unusually attentive you were being. Sure, she was just as spoiled as other children, but you never stopped her from being disciplined when you all agreed she needed to be.

“Claudia, you know I love you, right?” you asked her, watching as she set up the game.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Without you, an eternity isn't the same,” you admitted, as Lestat and Louis came downstairs, joining the two of you.

Your lovers watched you intentively, as you played the game with Claudia. Lestat noticed how you were letting her win, purposely moving to the wrong places, as she took your pieces while showering her with praises.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the interaction seemed different. Any other time you played chess with her, you gave her a challenge, expressing where she was improving or where she needed work. This time, you were treating her like a little child, like you hadn't seen her in forever, or would never see her again.

Time flew and after two long rounds, Louis stood, announcing Claudia needed to go to bed. Groaning, she stood, wanting to stay longer, but you shook your head.

“It's okay, you need your beauty rest, I love you so much, sleep well,” you told her, hugging her firmly once more.

“Love you too,” she mumbled before she was stomping up the stairs.

“Are you sure you are okay, ma chérie?” Lestat asked, as soon as her bedroom door shut.

“I am, I just, the thought of one day losing her, or being apart hurts my soul, our relationship would probably never be the same,” you said, smiling sadly at him.

“Why would we never be the same?”

“Because she's our daughter, and it would take losing her to see how much she is loved, even you, she's so much like you and that's why you clash so much,” you laughed.

“Wouldn't that make us stronger?”

“I wish that was the case, but holding onto the past makes you unable to communicate like you're supposed to-

“Where is all this coming from? Talk to us, what's on your heart?” Louis asked.

“Please don't question me, but there will be a time when we are so weirdly uninterested in each other, and we try to block out our issues with reading, music, and sex,” you said.

“Why though?”

“Holding onto the past”

“Then you'd have to remind us of what is ahead and not behind,” Lestat said, leaning down, pecking your lips.

Feeling your face burn from the passionate kiss, you looked down, your eyes widening noticing your fingers faded. You have watched enough sci-fi movies with Georgie to know it was time for you to leave.

“I need to make a quick run-

“The sun will be up in another hour,” Louis told you.

“I know, I won't be long, love you both,” you said, pecking both of their lips, before running out of the house.

As you ran back to the backyard, you were surprised to see the man back outside.

“What are you doing?” you asked him, seeing as he sat on the steps, watching the pod.

“I saw some kids run back here, so I’m just watching this contraption,” he shrugged. Staring at the man, you recognized him, Georgie’s grandfather, but much younger. You had seen the few photos hanging up on the house and you identified the face quickly.

“If you had advice for a future relative, a son or grandson, what would you tell him?”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. I get divorced, but I was able to experience a beautiful marriage, same with children, I was fortunate to experience fatherhood”

“Beautifully said, go get some rest,” you said, glamouring him, watching as he nodded, going inside.

Carefully stepping over the broken glass, you cautiously stepped inside, shutting the door, as the fog came back, the machine lighting up, before you were gone.

“Anything?”

“You just asked me that a few minutes ago, please, have some damn patience,” George said to Lestat, who was pestering him about you. The man was trying as hard as he could and Lestat did not care one bit.

Suddenly, the pod lit up, the fog coming back. Typing on the computer the door opened, before you stepped out, your feet dirty.

“I was away 6 hours and 40 minutes, how long has it been?” you asked, tossing Georgie the stopwatch.

“2 long hours, you've been crying,” Louis said, going to pull you into a hug.

“I saw her, our girl, she was perfect,” you said, feeling him stiffen in your arms before his shoulders shuttered from crying.

“What was she doing?” he asked.

“She had gotten in trouble, but I convinced you both to let it go, and we spent time together,” you said, as he smiled, nodding.

“You told her you loved her?” he asked, hopeful.

“Yes,” you nodded, as the hug tightened before he pulled away.

“And you told me something, so valuable,” you said, shifting to Lestat.

“Of course I did,” he smirked.

“You told me to remind you both of what is ahead of us and not our past,” you said, watching as he dabbed his eyes, stopping any tears on his part.

“Sounds like something I’d say, I guess,” he grinned.

“Are you ready to come home? I know you're probably exhausted from all of this?” Louis asked, grabbing your bag when you nodded.

Glancing at Georgie, who stood awkwardly waiting for you to finish with your reunion. Moving away from Lestat, you stood in front of your good friend, before pulling into a hug.

“Someone dear to you told me some valuable advice I want to share with you,” you smiled.

“Okay”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. Our past isn't meant to be changed, but rather we embrace the experience, both good and bad, because it shapes us into who we are. You might not be able to get your marriage back, but you could try to reach out to your children, Georgie,” you said, smiling as he teared up, agreeing with you.

“We have our own affairs to handle,” Lestat groaned, ready to leave the tiny basement.

“Shh,” Louis nudged him before you followed the two out of the house.

“Now that I think about Lestat was more charming back then, but now it's you, Louis,” you said, both of you laughing as Lestat scoffed, going on a rant about his greatness.

You missed Claudia greatly, but you had to keep moving, you all did. You still had an eternity of life, but maybe one day, just maybe, when you're reunited, she'll be where she belongs, back in your arms.

[hekateinhell]

Thank you so so much to everyone who contributed to and supported my little event! 🥹 Because I hosted this via my personal blog and not an event blog, I thought it would be nice to throw together a masterpost of all of our creations to have in one place to showcase everyone’s talent and efforts. Armandblr, you really are the best! ♥️

The Tumblr tagging system is far from perfect, so please let me know if I missed you somehow!

𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖈

*some of these were written specifically for ArmandShipFest from beginning to end, while others are multi-chapter fics where a specific chapter was written for this event—with that in mind, I’m listing the fics in their entirety so they can be enjoyed as they deserve!

ARMAND/MARIUS

A blending of sadness and simple grace [M | 1.9k | VC & AMC]

ARMAND/LESTAT

revealed at the ball. [M | 1.1k | Genderswap | VC]

tied together. [T | 332 | Genderswap | VC]

So Pretty In Your Pain [E | 3.2k | Genderswap & Human AU | VC]

Men of Honor [M | 3.1k | Human AU | VC]

I loved him, I knew it [G | 3k | VC]

Down Where The Church Bells Cry [E | 2.2k | AU | VC]

Untitled Lesmand Elf Fic [E | 2.3k | AU | VC]

ARMAND/LOUIS

Let Me Get Close to You [G | 1.7k | VC]

Crucible of the Flesh [M | 5.5k | VC]

ARMAND/DANIEL

Hold tight to me [G | 384 | VC]

Cold to the Touch [T | 1.3k | VC]

Glass Towers, Spring Flowers [M | 3.3k | VC]

ARMAND/OTHER

A Dog With No Bite [M | 9.1k | Armand/Nicolas | VC]

Venus and Adonis [E | 1.8k | Armand/Bianca | VC]

a laughing boy [M | 2k | Armand/Denis | VC]

A Mother’s Love [E | 1.1k | Armand/Allesandra | VC]

Untitled Denis Fic [M | 5.3k | Armand/Denis | VC]

The Path to Peace [T | 11.8k | Armand/Nicolas | VC]

MUTLISHIP

You took my blood and it made you my slave [M | 1k | Armand/Lestat, Armand/Marius | VC]

On the Grave of Our Old Love [E | 2.9k | Armand/Lestat, Armand/Marius, Armand/Lestat/Marius | VC]

Farewell My Fallen Idol [G | 6.6k | Armand/Marius, Armand/Daniel | VC]

All Grown Up | [E | 16.7k | Armand/Daniel, Armand/Marius | AU | VC]

DRABBLE COLLECTIONS

A Little Night Music [E | 850 | Armand/Marius, Armand/Riccardo, Armand/Antoine, Armand/Claudia | VC]

"so innocent, so passionate, so brilliant!" [M | 3.2k | Armand/Everyone | VC & AMC]

𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖙

ARMAND/MARIUS | VC

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

ARMAND/LESTAT | VC

1, 2

ARMAND/LESTAT | AMC

1, 2

ARMAND/LOUIS | VC

1, 2

ARMAND/DANIEL | VC

1 (+ Marius), 2

ARMAND/OTHER | VC

1 (Bianca), 2 (Sybelle)

𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘

ARMAND/MARIUS | VC

1, 2, 3, 4

ARMAND/LESTAT | VC

1, 2, 3, 4

ARMAND/LESTAT | AMC

1

ARMAND/LOUIS | VC

1, 2, 3

ARMAND/DANIEL | VC

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

ARMAND/OTHER | VC

1 (Pandora), 2 (Santino), 3 (Riccardo),

𝖈𝖔𝖘𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞

ARMAND/MARIUS | VC

1, 2

ARMAND/LESTAT | VC

1, 2

ARMAND/LOUIS | VC

1

ARMAND/DANIEL | VC

1

Re: late submissions - I’m trying to cut back on my Tumblr time for the rest of the month due to the holidays and having to figure out some real life work stuff, but I’ll be checking the #ArmandShipFest tag sporadically.

Thanks again, my loves! Happy Holidays and don’t forget to check out @vamptember’s 12 Nights of Christmas Event! ❄️♥️

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 69

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: As the walkers flood into Alexandria, everyone takes cover. After barricading themselves inside, Rick and Iris come up with an escape plan. Daryl, Sasha and Abraham are held up along the road. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; walker bite; significant injury; first aid; arguments; barricading doors; gore; cutting walkers open and using their entrails as camouflage; dark humour; blockades; threats via guns; violence; attempted robbery; explosions; murder; blowing people up; burning bodies; this is one of my favourite episodes

Chapter 69 - Defence

Iris was yelling, pulling Rick off the ground as the herd broke through.

“Everyone get back!” She screamed, the two of them running into town. “Lock your doors! Run! Walkers!” Then came the gunshots.

“Rick!” Deanna called.

“You need to get back!” He replied.

“We need to get back!” She corrected. She loosed a few shots, still having trouble with her aim.

“The brain, Deanna, the brain!” Iris yelled. She grabbed the two of them, hauling them along with her as they staggered back from the horde.

“Iris get to the house! Find Carl!” Rick yelled. Iris nodded, leaving him to protect Deanna as she made a break for it. She spotted Carl and Ron running down the street and waved them down. They bolted for her, Gabriel and Michonne in tow. 

They met up with Rick and Deanna at the street and ran together, staying as close as they could. They just made it to the street corner when a swarm of them came out of nowhere, turning around to face them. Deanna cried out in surprise, Rick practically carrying her. 

“Come on, I have Judith!” Jessie yelled. She emptied her magazine on the walkers in front of them, clearing the way to her front door. They all flooded into the house, locking and barricading the door behind them. 

-

Rick had deposited Deanna on a sofa bed upstairs, going straight to find Judith. Iris knelt beside her, tying up a tourniquet on her leg and assessing the damage. Deanna fell onto a bandsaw blade, which could mean a lot of things in terms of future infection. She was bleeding from a wound on her side, but Iris took them one at a time. 

“How is she?” Rick asked, jogging up the stairs.

“No offense to Iris, but whatever she’s doing hurts like a son of a bitch.” Deanna murmured. Iris smiled softly.

“Fresh out of morphine, boss.” Iris replied. She pulled up Deanna’s shirt a bit, pressing a wad of gauze to the wound staunch the bleeding. “I just finished with the leg, and that seemed to be the worst of…” She trailed off as she wiped the blood away, staring down at the clear teeth marks marring Deanna’s side. She looked up at Deanna, then to Rick. 

Deanna sighed, looking down at it before looking to Rick. His solemn expression told her everything she needed to know, and tears began to line her eyes. She took a shuddering breath, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well, shit.” She whispered.

Iris bound her wounds and tried to give her some pain killers, but Deanna refused them, saying they should save them for people who had a chance. She cracked jokes, but Iris could see the disappointment in her face. She left her to think, to process, going downstairs to check on Carl and Judith. Michonne kept them busy before going up to pay Deanna a visit.

“What happened?” Carl asked, looking up from the game of cars he was distractedly playing.

“She got bit.” Iris said quietly. He nodded as Ron paled, tossing his cards onto the table. Ron stood, and Carl followed after him, leaving Iris to cradle Judith gently, soothing her anxious cries.

Judith began to cry loudly as a large crash sounded down the hallway. Iris ran to the noise, trying to get through the garage door, but it was locked. Rick came bounding down the stairs, Jessie on his heels.

“Carl! Carl, open the door!”

“Ron!”

“Carl, let me in!”

“Ron, open the door right now!”

“Back up!” Rick yelled, pulling the hatchet from his belt and swinging for the lock. A few good hits and it was broken, Rick kicking the door in just as the walkers broke through the glass door to the outside. The boys ducked into the house as Rick barricaded the garage door. Iris hushed Judith from the living room, bouncing her as she cried loudly. “What happened in there?”

“We were looking for tools and knocked over a shelf.” Carl replied quickly. 

“We heard yelling.” Jessie protested.

“Yeah, Ron saw them break through the gate.” He explained. “We had to move. That’s what happened.”

“Carl, there are nightstands in my mom’s room. We can grab them.” Ron suggested.

“Hey." Jessie said, stopping them. “I heard fighting.”

“Yeah, we were fighting them.” Ron argued. Iris raised an eyebrow at Carl and he gave a very subtle shake of the head, Rick focused on holding the couch to the door.

“Carl? It’s okay?” Rick asked.

“It’s okay.” Carl insisted, following Ron to Jessie’s room. Iris had a feeling they weren’t just going to get the nightstands. They returned a bit later, everyone ransacking the house to barricade with more furniture. The noise was drawing more, and Iris handed Judith to Rick so he could take her upstairs. 

When he returned, Jessie, Gabriel, Iris Carl and Ron were holding a bed frame and a console table up to the front door, just as the walkers tore down the wood board Jessie had replaced the broken door with.

“There’s just too many of them.” Gabriel cried. Iris lunged for the other door as the walkers shoved the furniture aside. She threw herself against the desk and table, keeping the set of kitchen doors behind her back. 

“Everyone get upstairs, now!” Michonne called. She pulled out her sword, Iris ducking out of the way as she swung at the nearest walkers. Rick guarded the rest as they all ran up the stairs, using the furniture to block the stairway. He and Michonne held it there as the walkers threw themselves forward. 

“I got this one, you get the one behind it. We’re gonna need at least two.” He explained. They used the gaps in doorway to grab two of the walkers, killing them and pulling them through the gap. He motioned for Iris and Gabriel to follow, but for the rest to stay. “Stay here. You see anyone get through, you get me.” Iris followed him, helping him and Michonne to drag the walkers to one of the bedrooms.

“We’re gonna need bed sheets. Enough for everyone.”

“Bed sheets for what?” Jessie asked, rounding the corner. Iris blanched as she realized what his plan must have entailed.

“Oh god.” She whispered.

“We all go to the armoury.” Rick explained. He looked over to Iris, who sighed before kneeling at the body of the walker opposite his. “Gonna do the honours?” He asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Iris replied, none too joyfully. 

“How?” Jessie asked, looking between the two of them. Iris answered by pulling out one of her longer knives and eviscerating the walker in front of her, neck to navel. 

“We’ll cover ourselves with the insides. It’ll mask our smell, make them think we’re like them.” Rick explained. Gabriel looked sick as he came back with a few bed sheets. He chose white. “I’ve done it before. We stay calm, we don't draw attention, we can move right through them.”

“They’re in the house. They’re making noise. More are coming.” Michonne added.

“Just don’t think about it.” Iris advised. Rick split his open, Gabriel handing Michonne the sheets so she could cut holes for their arms and heads. Iris grit her teeth before she plunged her hands in. 

“Anyone who stays here is going to die.” Rick argued, looking at Jessie and Ron’s astonished faces.

“What about Deanna?” Gabriel asked. Rick didn’t answer. 

“Who wants the spleen?” Iris asked. Rick gave her a sour look and she winced, going back to pulling out the guts. 

-

Carl almost laughed as Iris slathered him in walker gore, and she was proud he was taking it so well. Her own bloody poncho was absolutely disgusting, as was each of theirs. Iris tossed a strip of skin at Gabriel, and he caught it with disgust before tenderly placing it on his shoulder. 

Jessie knelt down to slather herself, Rick doing his own bed sheet. She did Ron’s, trying to explain herself to her other son, Sam. He was teary-eyed, deathly afraid. 

“Everyone ready?” Iris asked quietly. They all nodded and she led the way down the staircase. Rick had Judith tucked in with Carl, safely under multiple layers of bedsheet. Gabriel had already promised to leave them all behind if he had to. 

They were dead silent as they weaved through the herd, none of them turning to look despite their still beating hearts. They made it out of the house, standing on the porch and looking out at the sea of dead now flooding the streets. They each took a hand, forming a tight line before stepping off the porch into the horde.

-

“Daryl.” Sasha murmured.

“Yeah, I see.” He grunted in response. He slowed the truck down as they looked out at the road, completely blocked off by a group of men sitting on motorcycles. They stood beside the bikes, waiting patiently as the truck squealed to a stop.

“What in the holy shit?” Abraham mumbled. They all grabbed their weapons, not daring to move. 

“Why don’t you come on out? Join us on the road?” The one in front called, waving with an inviting smile. Though, the rifles on his comrades’ shoulders were not so inviting. “If you wanna resist, try something… I mean, it’s a choice, I guess. But we will end your asses, split you right in two, straight through to the sinuses. So come on.” He waved. Daryl turned off the engine, he and Abraham opening the truck side doors and stepping out. “Yeah, that’s great! It’s going well right out of the gate.” He remarked to the others. “Now, step two, hand over your weapons.”

“Why should we?” Daryl grunted in reply. 

“Well, they’re not yours.” The man said simply.

“What?” Abraham bit out. Sasha looked around at them incredulously. 

“See,” the man started, stepping forward, “your weapons, your truck, the fuel in your truck, if you got mints in your glove compartment, if you got porn underneath the seats, change in the seats, hell, the seats themselves, the floor mats, your maps, the little stash of emergency napkins you got there in the console, none of those things are yours anymore.”

“Whose are they?” Sasha dared to ask.

“Your property now belongs to Negan.” They started out at him, waiting for someone to make a move. “If you can get your hands on a tanker, you’re people our person wants to know. So lets get those sidearms, shall we?” He gestured to Daryl, looking him up and down. “Right now.” Daryl pulled out the pistol he had, handing it over. “Thank you.” He took Sasha’s, then Abraham’s. “If you have to eat shit,” He explained. “Best not to nibble. Bite, chew, swallow, repeat. It goes quicker. Thank you.”

“Who are you people?” Sasha demanded.

“I get the curiosity.” The man admitted, walking back to his bike as he put their guns away. “But we have questions ourselves. And we’ll be the ones asking them while we drive you back to wherever it is you call home. Take a gander at where you hang your hats. First though, your shit. What have you got for us?”

“Yeah. You just took it.” Daryl replied sharply. The man chuckled.

“Come on.” He protested. “I mean, can we not, okay? There’s more. There’s always more.” He sighed when they made no move. One of the men stood at his beckoning, walking over. “T… take my man to the back of the truck. Start inside the back bumper, work your way to the front.” The man shoved Daryl back and they moved to the back of the truck. “Bite, chew, swallow, repeat.”

“Who’s Negan?” Abraham asked loudly. The man cocked his gun, pointing it forward at the pair of them.

“Ding dong! Hell’s bells!” He sang. “You see, usually, we introduce ourselves by just popping one of you right off the bat. But you seem like reasonable people. I mean, you’re sporting dress blues, for Christ’s sake. And like I said, we’re gonna drive you back to where you were. I mean, do you know how awkward it is carpooling with someone whose friend or friends you’ve just killed? Oof. But, I told you not to ask any questions. And then what does this ginger do? I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.” He cocked the gun.

“Wait!” Sasha blurted. Abraham whipped around to look at her. “Wait. You don’t have to do this.” He pulled out a second gun, pointing at both of them.

“Shut up.” Abraham murmured.

“I am taking to the man.” She hissed.

“No,” the man corrected. “You’re not.” He cocked both guns, looking them dead in the eyes before sighing, slouching back down on his bike. “I’m not gonna kill you. Wait, wait. You know what? Yes, I am.”

Sasha and Abraham were knocked back by a sudden explosion, every man and his bike blown to smithereens before their eyes, a plume of fire and smoke rising to the sky. 

Daryl sauntered back out from behind the truck, a rocket-launcher smoking on his shoulder. He lowered it, whistling at the carnage before them. The other man, ’T’, was dead behind the truck. Daryl examined the enormous weapon, nodding in satisfaction. Abraham and Sasha groaned as they stood back up. They rounded the truck, peering at the body on the ground.

“Son of a bitch was tougher than he looked.” Daryl murmured.

“Did he cut you?” Sasha asked, examining the slice through his leather vest, a small bloodstain blooming on the back. 

“A little.” Daryl shrugged. Sasha clapped a piece of cloth over the wound to stop the bleeding. “What a bunch of assholes.”

“Let’s get you fixed up at home.” Sasha said with a grin.

“Yes ma’am.” He replied, opening the door to the truck. She and Abraham walked around to the other side, the latter pausing to spit on their dead bodies. 

“Nibble on that.” He huffed. 

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

@hayley1998

@negansbestie

@lizey-thornberry

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV Trailer (me losing my freaking marbles - YOLO) Pt2

I'm just going frame by frame thru AMC'S BEAUTIFUL new IWTV trailer. But I had to split this into 2 parts cuz Tumblr won't let me post 30+ pics. 🙄

They transition from Louis telling Claudia "It's you and me," to BB!Dan being "disrespectful"--yelling at Louis wanting him to make him a vamp, like we heard in S01E01.

And they immediately cut to the clip we've seen before of Louis crying & being dragged off by some old dude (if that's a vampire I feel bad for him, LOL). This might be Claudia/Madeleine's execution, rather than the Trial itself, cuz Louis was wearing a different outfit. (And Claudia's wearing the YELLOW DRESS! Imma be sick! 😭)

So I wonder when the "best outfit" Jam Reiderson said Claudia wears is gonna take place--which I'm assuming is the red Flamenco dress from the posters.

It is SO incredible that we're actually gonna see The Trial, and LESTAT BEING THERE, and seeing Madeleine & Armand & Santiago.

It's interesting that they cut from Armand saying it wasn't SanFran where he failed Louis but Paris, and jump to hallucination!Lestat mocking Armand, yelling "HA!" Is Louis' outfit the same as the one where the old dude dragged him out crying? It kinda looks the same. So is Louis imagining Lestat being FURIOUS with Armand for what's about to happen to Claudia? I wonder why Les is in THAT suit, cuz it looks like the same one he wore in S1E03 the night he kicked Jelly Roll Morton out of town & ragged on Louis about not wanting to kill humans.

Good lord, here we go. #GoneTooSoonMadeleine. U_U And I LIKE THE IMAGERY of the joint/shared transformation, nodding to Claudia desperately wanting Louis to be her (blood) spouse, as they make Madeleine together.

Jfc Louis really did almost kill BB!Daniel. O_O He shattered all that plaster--that's brain damage for sure--no wonder he can't remember the interview, LOL. (I still think Armand used the Mind Gift to make him forget everything.)

A lot of paintings and canvases--art heist Armand?! Are we finally gonna see how he made all that money, going around stealing priceless treasures!? (You can see Armand's feet floating, LOL.) Or is the inside of that chateau his coven raided, "we own dominion!"?

Daniel asking Louis: "YOU BUY THAT?"

AMC thinks they're FUNNY! Cuz they cut right from Armand stealing art he didn't BUY, to lovebomber!Lestat laughing in the townhouse and Louis yelling in what looks like a train station? So he's freaking TF out in public (just like Paul).

Ooooo--then they have Lelio!WolfKiller!Lestat about to attack someone (Magnus? Nope, I double-checked it's Armand cuz ofc it is), looking like the freaking BEAST in his red cape--

--right before we get Lestat's POV of Louis and him fighting in Ep5.

Cuz yeah, Lestat had snapped, and was beating Louis like he was a DOG, like he wasn't even seeing a PERSON, let alone someone he was supposed to be protecting from vampires/monsters LIKE HIM--and OMFG Louis was in blue just like Belle was during the wolf attack--I hate this show.

And they immediately jump from Louis getting beat by Lestat to what I assume is Louis getting jumped by the Theatre--trapped in the coffin they were gonna bury him alive in.

What on earth is Claudia throwing? I swear I think these are bombed/blown-up body parts--pieces of someone's life gone cuz of the WAR. (And immediately cut to Loustat fighting.)

"Who are you, Louis? If there was no ME, if there was no HIM." So yes, the fan theory that Louis WANTS those pieces gone are correct. Or rather--Louis THOUGHT that having those pieces removed would help him. He thought he could recover the lost parts of himself if he wiped his mind of the painful memories. But something must've triggered him--likely finding Claudia's diaries after the 1970s--we are SOOOOO deep in Merrick territory. Cuz Louis wants those memories BACK now--with a vengeance.

*squints* Are they really GOING THERE with Lesmand!? O_O That's not Nickistat, right? Cuz the very next clip is Armand--using telekinesis on Louis (or Daniel?) WTF?!

And then we see the familiar clip of Armand using the Fire Gift when he first meets Louis. Just paralleling how much Armand openly flaunts his many gifts in front of Louis, while Lestat tried to hide everything he could do to not scare Louis away--until Ep5 ofc.

Doomed "happy" "family." YELLOW DRESS ALERT ☝️. The calm b4 ish hits the fan. They immediately cut to Claudia being "welcomed" by the Theatre and Santiago zooming thru the tunnel--

--DEATH to all of them! "F**k these vampires"--Claudia never lied!

Louis, you are just too dang pretty--GTFO off my dang screen. 😍

Another YELLOW dress--these images are cursed.

Loustat reunion at the Trial, if that's the same outfit Lestat wore here.

Give him hell, Armand! 😈 He wanted to be the Devil's Minion so bad--here you go! Look at all that glass shattering around him; no wonder Daniel's scared for his life, LOL! (If this is actually Louis throwing a fit I will DIE.)

Louis finna GO OFF on this BUFFOON! So THAT'S why Armand was mad! XD Louis (or Claudia?) was about to rip Santiago's whole jaw off! XDDDD

The sound of Louis just crying has me in a STATE. AMC is doing something SO freaking different from the film & the books. Louis is actively trying to make sense of things, as we see this poor man just suffering with PTSD and mental illness; with no one to HELP him but some crotchety old man who borderline hates him, and an old AF vampire who'd loves him so much that he'd rather have Louis forget everything cuz ignorance is bliss. 😩

Louis WANTS to remember everything. Armand does NOT want the interview. And Daniel is scared.

Holy freaking goodness, what an incredible trailer. 👏 May 12th can't get here fast enough!

[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Ch 6

My boy my boy... it's been a long time, Becky. This is a response to the writing game prompt "You will love it." "I will hate it." "Nah, you won't."

Thanks to @whositmcwhatsit and @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny and @ellie-24 and @missmaywemeetagain and @from-memphis-with-love and @arrolyn1114 and for playing this game and supporting me as I write, thanks too to @ab4eva for just being an all around mensch....

Summary: Elvis calls Becky, or rather, watches as Charlie calls and asks her to come on tour. She doesn't realize this tour is not going well. But once she is there, she decides to just roll up her sleeves and jump right in. Because Elvis.

WC: 7.3K

Warnings: Swearing, implied drug use, oral sex. This could have been very angsty but it is actually a big ball of unpolished, fantastical, indulgent fluff. I wrote this today and didn't have anyone read it. So beyond typos, expect historical inaccuracies and probably mischaracterization of everyone, including my OC.....

If you need to catch up.... Chapter 5: Salty Lips

Chapter 6: Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire

6 pm Sunday, July 20, 1975

Geiler’s Hardware Store, Jackson, MS

Harriet’s key clicked into the back lock of her parent’s hardware store, and she pulled the handle to double-check that the door was, indeed, locked, before turning to look at her cousin. Becky’s mind was elsewhere and she stared down at her Chuck Taylor sneakers, raising her head only after Harriet coughed, and the two women made their way to Harriet’s small, yellow AMC Pacer. Becky looked out the window, playing with her hair, purposefully avoiding Harriet’s curious stare.

Keep reading

“Earth to Becky, where are you? You haven’t said anything about the date Ida set you up on Thursday.”

Becky pulled on the ring she wore on her right hand, a band of platinum with a diamond flower at the center. It was the ring Elvis had given her, and she could still almost feel the caress of his hand as he slid it on her and told her how beautiful she was, how she deserved beautiful things. That had been a month ago, but it could have been yesterday when Charlie, Billy and Jo had all been rounded up to drive her home to Jackson after a whirlwind week at Graceland.

Becky tilted the ring back and forth, then looked up to watch the businesses in the Fondren go by as Harriet drove her home. Why did it feel like cheating on Elvis to go one blind date. An innocent blind date. An innocent blind date that had fizzled out and ended with a very platonic hug.

“Ugh, he was nice enough. I don’t know.”

Harriet looked over, then back at road.  “It’s Elvis. Ida says he calls you every few days.”

“Yeah, he does. He asked me to come with him for his show in New York. Then well, when I said no I guess he went down the list.”

Becky sighed, thinking of the photos in the newspaper of Elvis with a very thin, very blonde woman who definitely was not Linda. The thought made her frown, and Harriet looked at Becky with sympathy as she turned the car on to her parent’s street.

“I thought you said that you left things on good terms, and that he wanted you to move up there? I can’t believe you would rather be here in Jackson than in Memphis.”

“Yeah. I mean no. I like, him, I mean, I cannot help it. I used to day dream of dating this man. But look at me, Harriet.”

Becky grabbed her purse and got out of the car,  sweeping her hand over her body to showcase her tee shirt and jeans as she stood.

“I’m not groupie material. And I can’t up root my kid and move to a new city just so I can join Elvis’ harem for a few months. We left things on good terms, but I don’t even know if I am cut out to be a harem member.”

“You are a knock out, Becky. You are totally groupie material. No, wait. You're better than groupie. You are at least favorite girlfriend number two or three material. I cannot believe you aren’t on your way to Memphis. Or New York. You only live once!”

Harriet grinned as Becky shook her head and sent her off with a bang to the yellow hood, before turning to walk into the house.

She was a greeted with a yell from Ruth, who was coloring with Ida at the dining room table. Becky could smell Saul’s pot roast wafting from the kitchen as she crossed the room and kissed Ruth on head, checking out her drawing of what looked like a dressed up mushroom in a pile of rocks standing next to Father Christmas.

“What do you think?”

She looked at Ida, whispering as she tried to decipher the words her aunt was mouthing.

“The mob-bit? The Hobbit! Yes, of course, it's The Hobbit. There’s Bilbo. Wow, Ruth, you really captured what I thought he looks like.”

“I’ve been practicing my hobbit form. And see, he’s talking to Gandalf.”

“Ah, yes, I can tell from the beard.” She had to stop herself from giggling at Ida’s wink. “SO amazing, you have become a very talented artiste!”

“Well, she learned from the best.”

Becky smiled at her aunt as she went to grab a beer. “I think the student has surpassed the teacher, I can’t wait to hang this one the fridge.”

 The phone rang while Becky was at the fridge, and she watched Ruth run to get it as she slumped into the chair next to Ida, who reached over to rub her forearm.

“Oy, Rebecca, was the restocking that bad today? You should have stopped Saulie from leaving. He is only 60, he could have helped finish -”

“Oh, no, Ida. Unless Saul has an in-depth knowledge of waterbed installation, his presence wouldn’t have made a difference.”

 “Why do people want to sleep in those things? What if they leak. Or break? I get sea sick just thinking about it.”

“I’ve heard they can be really relaxing. I don’t know, but there is a new waterbed store two doors down. The owner spent an hour trying to figure out what materials he needs us to order, so I guess business is keeping him pretty busy.”

“Can you imagine getting busy in a water bed?”

“Ida!”

Ida grinned, fluffing up her short, silver bob. ”I’m just saying, I couldn’t make whoopee on top of a big bag of water, oy vey, I’d be so nervous, what with the sound of the sloshing - “

“Wait, hold that thought, although you know I love hearing about your sex life.” Becky held up her finger for her aunt to stop talking, pausing to hear what Ruth was saying on the phone.

“How do I know you are really a friend of Elvis’? Well can you ask him to come over again? The  kids next door don’t believe he is my mom’s boy friend. And he promised to take me for ice cream again.”

Becky strode over to the phone. “Ruthie, who is it?”

Ruth covered the receiver with her hand, a mischievous look crept up her little face. “He says his name is Charlie, and when I asked how he knew you, he said -”

Becky held out her hand, taking the phone from her daughter. “Uh huh, ok, that’s enough from you , chatty Kathy, go help Ida clear up the art studio and set the table for dinner.” She paused, smoothing her hair, as if Charlie could see her from the other side of the phone.

“Hi Charlie. What’s up?”

She heard a single nervous “ha” on the other side of the phone, and took a deep breath. “Well, a, heya there Becky.”

It seemed to Becky like there was a more anxious desperation behind Charlie’s perfunctory niceties.

“Hiiiii? What’s up?”

“Look, um, Elvis asked me to call and see if you might reconsider coming out on tour? You know he misses ya somethin’ awful, ain’t stopped talking bout that cute chick back in Jackson.”

Becky took a deep breath, thinking of the photos in the paper of Elvis and that model.

“Hmmm. I’m sure. You know I want to, but I have a kid, Charlie - and it’s her  last little bit of summer, I don’t wanna leave her  twiddling her thumbs while I go traipsing around the country-”

“So bring her. Priscilla brings Lisa all the time, you know, they make it work,  Elvis is a family man, hon- I mean Becky, tour is not some wild orgy. You’ve been there. The guys, the band, were all like a big happy family.”

“One big happy family, huh? I don’t know.”

“I can hear it in your voice, Becky girl, I can tell ya wanna come.”

Becky sighed, looking as Ruth paused her place setting to look up and grin at her mother. Ida was behind her, eye brow arched up as Becky motioned her over, whispering with her hand over the mouth piece if it would be ok to take off for a few days. It was disconcerting how much Ida nodded and how quickly an excited gleam grew in her eyes. Becky shoed her off and carried the phone to wonder down the hallway so no one could hear her.

“Maybe. You really think I could bring Ruthie? How long would it be for ?”

She heard Charlie breathe a sigh of relief, and then there was a kerfuffle and the bang of the phone handle dropping on the floor.

“Hey Becky Butt.” Elvis’ deep voice filled Becky’s ears and she realized he must have been sitting there watching Charlie ask her. “Honey, I ain’t stopped thinkin' bout you since you left me. I need you, need you bad."

Becky started to blush, just at the needy, low tenor of his voice. "I have been thinking about you to."

"That's good baby, real good. Let's get you out here, see if I'm still the same as you remember. Can’t wait to see you, baby. Tonight ain’t soon enough.”

“Tonight? Uh - Elvis, I - Charlie said I should bring Ruth? Is that really ok? Is it safe?”

“Honey, I’m a black belt with a gun. Ain’t no safer place on earth. Hell, probably the safest place for your baby. You know how crime is getting in our cities. Bring her along. Charlie can babysit too, he’s basically a child himself. Got the brains a one, any how.”

Becky stood there, tapping her toe as her mind raced. Every bit of sense screamed at her not to meet Elvis on tour. She had just told Ida last week she was ready for her aunt fix her up with any nice single guys her age, in a conscious effort to try and get Elvis out of her system. Be a normal, responsible adult. Having, normal, responsible relationships. But now, talking to Elvis, all she wanted to do was give in and rush to be near him.

“Ok.” She whispered out.

“Good, good girl. I’m having Charlie run get Joe, fly ya out tonight. Go get ya self packed up.”

********************************

The Norfolk airport was pitch black when they landed, and if it weren’t for the lights along the landing strip, Becky may not have been able to make out Jerry’s scowl from across the tarmac.

“You shouldn’t have come.” His voice was clipped and terse as he grabbed her traveling bag, looking her up and down as she wobbled behind him in the high heel suede boots Elvis had bought her.

“Hello to you, too.”

“He said you were bringing your daughter, so at least you have some sense.”

Becky gulped as Jerry opened her door, and she flipped the sun visor down to fix her make up.

“Yeah, I guess… I um, changed my mind. I thought she would have a good time, but then, I don’t know,  I thought the schedule would throw her off. And I guess I don’t want her to get too attached to him. Or the idea of me and him. This is all just a little fun.”

Jerry looked over at her, his shoulders seemed to clench with his jaw as he drove

 “Fun. Ha. Well get ready, I think you’re in for more fun than you bargained for.”

Then Jerry pulled over, and his voice went from sarcastic to earnest as he turned off the car. “Or you can just say the word right now, and I’ll turn around, take you back, and you can catch a flight home. I’ll tell him you never showed.”

Jerry’s hopeful expression gave Becky a strange sense of foreboding and all the excited, giddy anticipation drained from her body.

“But Jerry - there are no direct flights to Jackson, and it’s midnight.” Her lip quivered as she pushed her lipstick back into its case.

“And I - I can’t afford to pay for a hotel and then all the connections I would have to make to get back home. Why are you acting like this? What happened?”

The drove under a streetlight, and Becky saw the bags under Jerry’s eyes more fully as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Elvis has been getting into it with the band all week. Kathy and two of the Sweet Inspirations stormed off the stage mid-show tonight cuz he was talking shit at them sideways.” Jerry looked over at Becky. “The big man can dish it out, but he cain’t take it. No sireee.”

He drew out his “sireeee” as he pulled the white Lincoln into a parking spot at the back of a hotel. Becky shifted back and forth during the elevator ride up, arms crossed in front of the white floral dress she had excitedly wiggled into with glee three hours ago, as Ida kissed her good luck, and Ruth had glowered,  asking again why she couldn’t come. Now she felt ridiculous. Ugh, why couldn’t she ever listen to the voice of reason in her head that told her something was a bad idea. Leaning against the cool metal of the elevator, Becky kicked Jerry’s shin and tried to keep her voice light, positive.

“Ok, so level with me. Why is he fighting with the band, he seemed fine when he called me earlier.”

Jerry stepped away, grimacing at her familiarity. “That is because he is the master manipulator, and he wants you to come keep him company. But the last few days he has been stoned out of his gourd. More than usual. Cuz he’s in pain from all the performances, cuz he’s tired, cuz he’s bored. And he does not want to be on tour.”

“Then why is he?”

Jerry sucked in his breath and held up his hand, and a look of sharp contempt framed his smile as he rubbed his thumb and his forefinger together.

“Money money money, Becky! Linda needs a bigger apartment in LA! Dr. Nick needs a new house! Joe’s swindled him into starting a racquetball club! And of course he needs a different, gold plated plane.”

Becky swiveled in front of Jerry, looking him square in the eye as they hit the twenty first floor and she stepped backwards into the hallway.

“And what about you, Jerry, are your needs being taken care of?”

Jerry shook his head, and a sharp chuckle escaped his lips while he hung back and threw Becky’s blue travel case at her feet.

“Hmmm. I reckon you gotta from here, Becky. He’s in the Presidential Suite. Just down the hall.” He looked away, stating in a matter of fact tone. “Have fun.”

Becky’s mouth dropped as she watched Jerry tilt his head to the side through the closing doors, his eyebrows arched in a challenge. The elevator clanged shut, and Becky steadied herself, then opened her purse, as if all of life's problems could be solved with a tissue or some lipstick. There was the paperback copy of The Hobbit at the bottom, the one she’d been reading to Ruth. The one Ruth had shoved in her hands at the last minute, demanding that she call home and read to her while she was away. Becky smiled, thinking of Ruth’s big brown eyes as her small, stubborn mouth announced that she would be telling the neighbor kids all about how her mom was going to meet Elvis at his concert, even as Becky begged her not to.

“I guess if one good thing comes out of this, it should be Ruthie one upping those Ledbetter brats.”

Becky dug around in her purse, and decided to pop a tic tac in her mouth, the mint was refreshing, it washed away the bad taste her conversation with Jerry had left in her mouth. Then Becky took a moment to look herself over in the mirror. Ida had helped her pin her hair half up in the front, and her floral, cotton dress hung down in a flattering way from the embroidered empire chest to hang loosely over her hips before stopping at her knees. The suede boots gave her some height, and she liked the fringe along the side, she liked the way she could feel it dangle as she walked. She just had to keep her balance and everything would be fine. Looking at herself in the mirror, she blew herself a kiss and took a deep breath. In a moment of inspiration, she broken off one of the yellow roses from the vase on the table, and pinned it into the side of her hair, then strode down the hall.

She pulled on the ring Elvis had given her, once more finding reassurance from rubbing the metal over her finger again and again. But her confidence faltered for a moment outside the suite when she heard the smash of something being flung and breaking against the wall, followed by stomping and shouting. Elvis-like shouting.

“Fired, they’re all FUCKING fired. ‘Cept Myrna, she’s the only one with any sense a loyalty or professionalism. I don’ care if them other bitches come back here, begging, BEGGING, on their knees for their jobs back. They revealed their true colors here tonight. It’ll be a cold day in HELL before I take ‘em back.”

The shouting paused, and Becky leaned into the door to try and hear what the chorus of male voices muttering indecipherably were saying, before a loud voice, deeper than the Mississippi delta, bellowed back.

“Nah. Nope. I ain’t apologizing for shit. They need to ‘apologize to me, Felton, for not bein’ able to take a  GODDAMN joke. There’s a hundred back up singers out there  starving fo’ work. Who’d slit their momma’s throats for a chance to sing with us. Why don’t you do YA job and go find me some a them? What the hell I pay ya for? ‘Sposed to be producin’ this show, go produce some back up singers.”

Becky’s excitement at seeing Elvis again had now been replaced by a tense ball of nerves shifting in her stomach. Suddenly the sound of footsteps came towards her, and she jumped back from the door just in time before three or four men pushed by where she stood back, sucking in her stomach and gripping the wall as she watched them trudge down the hallway. Then she turned to find Charlie at the door, looking at her as his face scrunched from unease into a wide grin.

“Why if it isn’t Becky from Birmingham. Whatcha doin’ hugging  the wall out here, Becky? Git in here, girl.”

Charlie stood back, and Becky braced herself as she entered the hotel room.

It was a mess, plates of half eaten food lined the table and bar, several of which had been flung against the wall, where mashed potatoes and gravy now dripped down the wallpaper onto pieces of broken porcelain on the carpet. Becky shivered, and then tried to compose herself as she looked around. There was Joe, smoking and pacing on the other side of the room, he turned when he saw her, unable to hide the disdain that grew on his face. She recognized Red and Lamar on the couch, Sonny hunched against the wall, but didn’t know the younger, skinnier guy with long brown hair.

Becky suddenly felt very awkward and out of place and brought her blue, vinyl travel bag up to her stomach where she could hug it for comfort. She smiled at Lamar as Charlie patted her back.

“You know the fellas, aintcha Becky?” She nodded, her walk stilted as she came further into the pent house. “The big guy just went to his room, but man are you a sight for sore eyes, he sure is gonna be glad to see you.”

Sonny let out a laugh, then stood up and walked towards her.

“I thought Jerry was picking you up?”

“He was, I mean he did, but I guess he - um - had other stuff to go do.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. By now I bet he’s kissed Myrna’s ass so hard his lips are glued to it.” Sonny rubbed his hands together, looking Becky up and down, and she hugged her bag harder at the resentment in his eyes as he went to pour himself a drink.

“Don’t pay him no mind, Becky, he woked up on the wrong side of the bed is all. For the last ten years.” Charlie laughed loudly at his own joke, as he guided Becky through the tense, silence of the living room towards the master bed room, where he knocked on the door to the old “Shave and a hair cut, two bits” pattern.

“I said to FUCK OFF.” Was the response, and Becky looked at Charlie imploringly.

“He seems - out of sorts. Maybe I shouldn't be here.”

Red snorted behind them, muttering under his breath that was one way to put it.  But Charlie shook his head, whispering.

“Nah, it’s jus been a rough night with some a the personnel.” This elicited another snort from Red, but Charlie continued, undeterred. “He wanted to know the second you got here, trust me.” Then Charlie cleared his throat, calling out.

“Hey boss, guess who is here? It’s lil ol Becky! Just in from Miss’ppi.”

“Well why the didn’t ya say that in the first place.”

The door flung open with a bang to reveal Elvis, still wearing the blue jumpsuit with the silver zebra pattern rising on either side of his chest. A matching zebra patterned belt was at his waist and his hands held an old fashioned looking quilt in patriotic red, white and blue around his shoulders, like the comfort blanky Ruth still slept with sometimes.

 Becky immediately dropped her bag and went to him, cupping his face with her hands as she looked up into his eyes. In spite of all the shouting, the gruff stance, he looked like a wounded puppy. She would whatever she could to take all the pain out of his eyes and hold him until he knew that everything was alright.

The side of her pinky crested against a taut choker, as she shook her head at the dark make-up smudged around his eyes. His lips pursed together at the center as he looked down sheepishly, like a little boy, biting his lip as his hands let the quilt drop to the floor and found her waist.

“Are you cold, Elvis?” She asked, looking at the quilt.

“What, oh that? Nah honey, someone gave it to me at the show and I like." He exhaled slowly through his nose. "Aww Becky, is it good to see you.”

Elvis picked her up and swung her around, bouncing her against his slight belly. His face lit up, and Becky could almost swear he wiped a tear from his eye as he placed her down and drew her into his side, walking her out to the living room.

“Now, this is what a good gal looks like, a loyal gal. Drop ev’ry thin when her man needs her. Man ‘o man, baby. You look like an angel, sent from heaven. How’d I get so lucky, have an angel come visit me, huh?” He grinned, looked at the others before kissing the top of her hair with gusto, so much so that his chin knocked the rose out of it, and then he accidentally stepped on it when he moved to pick it up. Elvis bent at his knees, wobbling as he tried to gathered up all the petals, his voice was high and babyish.

“Aw, no no no no. I’m sorry baby, I trampled all ova ya pretty flower.”

Then he dropped it an octave yelling forcefully.

“Charlie - boy, where’d that dumb ass go.” Before he had even finished uttering the words dumb ass, Charlie was there, chuckling as if Elvis and he were two frat boys yanking each other’s chain. Instead of master and trained dog, Becky mused, then pushed the thought from her mind.

“Charlie, run out and get Becky some fresh roses -”

Becky bent down next to Elvis on the carpet and stilled his hand to pull him back up, notching herself under Elvis shoulder as she turned to Charlie.

“Don’t you dare, Charlie. I just stole it on my way in, I can always go get another one.” Then she leaned up on her tippy toes and kissed Elvis’ cheek. “It’s a sweet thought, though. You’re sweet a sweet boy. Thanks for inviting me to join you, wished I hadn’t missed the show.”

Then she ran her fingers through the sweaty matted hair at his temple, stroked out the sticky hairspray that had kept his coiffed, high pompadour in place. Elvis’ blue eyes locked with hers and his whole body softened.

“S’ok, honey, probably all for the best. Was a sorry ass excuse for a show anyway.”

Becky trailed her fingers lower, over his chin and down along his chest hair.

“Impossible.” She whispered into the crease at his armpit, nuzzling her nose against the edge of his shoulder.

He didn’t even break eye contact as she looked back into his face as he lifted his right hand out and waved the guys off.

“Alright, boys, dismissed.”

Becky smooshed her face back into his armpit, rather than watch the parade of angry, middle aged men depart. Just before he left, she heard Charlie start to say good night and how nice it was to see her, when Elvis yelled for him to stop making eyes at Becky and go find his own gal.

Then they were alone. In a sea of dirty dishes, broken plates, rose petals and one coffee table that looked like it had been turned upside down. Unless it was some sort of new modern design, where you placed your coffee on the marble slab face down on ground.

Looking back up at Elvis, Becky didn’t know what  to say.  The screaming she had heard through the door had terrified her., yet looking at him now it seemed so clear how tired and how much pressure he felt. Jerry’s words rang in her ears, and they summoned all of Becky’s stupid, nurturing instincts. She began to pull off his scarf, peppering his chest with a few soft kisses to sooth the heart beat she heard, running as fast as a loose rail car thundering down a mountain.

Looking back up at his face, she licked her thumb, without consciously realizing what she was doing, and started to clean up his eye make-up, and he started to babble about the whole world going to hell. But he quieted as she shook her head, and gripped her hand tightly, shakily. Feeling him tremble, she remembered how exhausted he must be. So she paused and led him through the master suite and into bathroom, when she sat him on the toilet, stopped him again from protesting that he was fine, with a finger to his lips. Then she took a wet washcloth, and straddled his lap to clean his face.

Elvis grinned up at her, and when was done, he clasped both her hands in his and brought them forward to kiss her knuckles, his eyes level with her breasts. She let out a gasp at the way he sucked at her knuckles, before she shook herself free so she could reclaim her hand and undo his choker.

“What’s the matter, baby boy, hmmm? What’s all the fuss bout tonight, huh?”

She soothed his forehead with her fingers, cracking her neck as she steadied herself on his lap. The texture of his blue, gaberdine suit was soft underneath her bare thighs.

“Ah, nothing honey, jus the doggone back up singers can’t take a joke. Walked off in the middle of the set, make me look like a damn clown.”

Becky steadied herself.

“I find that hard to believe. Don’t look like a clown to me. If anything,” she begun to unzip his jumpsuit, her hands smoothing over the cool sweaty, hair she found there as she pushed against his belly. “If anything, they’re the ones who look foolish. Walking off like that.”

Elvis' lip hung down, just the slight hint of a double chin grew there, before they widened into a smile, pushing the apples of his cheeks up towards her.

“Ya sweet honey, ya know that? Wait, whatcha doin’ woman?”

Becky giggled as she pulled off his belt, and leaned into smell his chest.

“I am undressing you, Elvis Presley. Shower time.”

He tried to dismiss this idea with a wave of his hand.

“Honey, I don’t need a shower.”

“Oh yes you do.” Becky rubbed her hands under Elvis’ jumpsuit, trying to push it off his shoulders. “When was the last time you took a shower, you stinky boy.”

He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Uh, uh, uh -”

“Ha, if it is taking that long to answer, it has been tooo long.” She jumped up, and went to start the water. Elvis stood, bringing her back against the bathroom wall.

“Think you can come in here, and order me around, huh?” He smirked. “I like how I smell. Smell like a man. S'natural, s'way God made me.”

“Good little boys.” Becky worked her hands back under his suit. “Who take good little showers.” She got the fabric off the side of his shoulders. “Get good little rewards.”

He stilled her hands, enveloping her with his scent, a staunch mix of sweaty musk doused with a bottle or two of brut. Becky wrinkled her nose.

“And what about bad little boys who do what they want, huh?”

She threw her arms around his neck. “They get loved on until they learn to behave.” And she began to kiss his chest and neck with a swift barrage of pecks.

“Alright, alright crazy woman. What’s my reward, then, huh?”

Becky pulled her dress off with a speed that made Elvis' head spin, but before he could make a snarky remark, she bent over to take off her boots, and all he could do was stare at her bottom as she motioned for him to unclasp her bra.

“Your reward is me. In the shower. Washing you.”

Becky giggled self consciously as she took Elvis’ hands and drew him into the shower. She didn’t know where her chutzpah had come from, all she knew was that when she was with him, she was a woman transformed. Her walls came down, and she wanted to be as close as possible to him, do whatever she could to put him at ease. Being around Elvis had warped her entire way of thinking.

The way his smirk rippled across his cheeks as he watched her lather up a wash cloth and start scrubbing over his hair chest made her tummy feel funny. Like she was about to jump off a diving board. She watched the soap drizzled down over his waist and down his happy trail. Becky swallowed hard, unable to stop herself from rubbing over it with her hand and wiping the soap into different shapes around his belly button. A triangle, a circle, a heart.

Elvis chuckled as he squeezed his eyes shut under the water, letting it rinse everything off as he muttered that she was a weirdo. Then he took the wash cloth from her hands and spread the lather over the top of her breasts. Back and forth, as if mesmerized. His attentive gaze made her vibrate, and Becky’s nipples became hard nubs. She pushed his hand aside, stepping close to rub the soap from her bosom against him, playfully.

“I think they’re clean.”

“Never can be too sure.” He pulled her closer, nudging his nose over hers as he took the washcloth back and began to caress her butt. “Just bein’ thorough. Wanna a get all my reward.”

“Your reward was me washing you, not the other way around.”

Elvis winked. “I’m renegotiatin’.” And he carefully turned Becky around so that she was leaning into the shower wall, while he slowly moved the washcloth over her shoulder blades, the small of her back, her bottom cheeks and the backs of her legs. His movements were so soft and tender, that they made all the thoughts drain from Becky’s head with the water. Her knees turned into jelly.  And all she knew was the warm sensation vibrating up her spine and tingling between her legs.

It was 3:45 am when they finally collapsed into the master suite’s large, king bed in matching pajamas. Becky could rest assured that every part of her body was clean, and while she hadn’t scrubbed him behind his ears, she had done her best with Elvis.

He had taken the cute, sexy pink fluffy negligee she had brought to sleep in from her hands, and thrown it in the trash, reiterating that just because they were on the road, they were never safe from commie drug dealers. Arsonists. Assassins. Any number of dangerous threats that could result in an instant need to evacuate the hotel.

“Trust me, Becky, you’ll be greatful ya wearing something decent if that happens.”

Becky rolled her eyes, saying to herself that Elvis was worse than her grandmother. But she obliged and reasoned that Elvis’ pajamas were probably more comfortable than the gauzy peignoir she had brought. The she settled back, watching him take his medication from the black, doctor’s bag, before folding her arms around him when he snuggled up and lay his head on her breasts,  murmuring to her in a low, babying tone.

“Aw Becky, don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t come.”

She stroked his soft, dyed hair, shhhing him as she smiled to her self at the hint of grey she saw at the peak of his right side burn.

“You’d be fine, you always are.”

“Nah, honey, none a these fools love me for who I really am. None of them would be here if it weren’t for the money.”

“That’s not true, your friends love you. They’ve known you all your life.”

“Nah uh, they don’t, baby. No one loves me. You might be the only one in the whole world who doesn’t want anything from me. Won’t take my goddamn money, even when I mean it as a gift. Because I do love givin’ gifts.”

Becky trailed her fingers across Elvis’ forehead, enjoying the way his warm skin felt under her knuckles. “I know you do. You really do.”

“But no one appreciates it, they just want more. Won’t be happy til they suck me dry. Ugh, I don’t know if I can even sleep, so keyed up about the band.”

Becky kissed his forehead, as an idea percolated, and she rose from the bed to grab The Hobbit from her purse.

“Here, why don’t I read to you, take your mind off things?”

Elvis’ took the book ins hand. “This the book Spock was singing about?”

Becky giggled, thinking of Leonard Nimoy’s record few years back. “I believe the song you are referring to is ‘The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins.’ And yes, it was inspired by this book. But I know you've heard of The Hobbit, Elvis. Have you ever read it?”

Elvis shook his head, but before he could protest that he didn’t read children's books, she brought his head back to her bosom and began reading it, doing the voices the same way she did with Ruth. They passed out at some point in the “Roast Mutton” chapter,  after pausing from time to time debating what their hobbit names would be.

“I think you are probably too tall to be a hobbit, Elvis, probably more an elf. Your name is practically the same as their language.”

“Well, that don’t make sense, no one names their kid after a language. English. Spanish. This is ma son, German. So then, what do you ’spose my elf name would be?”

Becky yawned. “I guess that will be our proooooject over the next few days, figure out what our hobbit and elf names are.”

“Guesss sooooooo.” Elvis yawned back.

**********************************************************

Becky found her paperback copy of The Hobbit open and smashed between them where Elvis had fallen asleep with his head on top of her chest. Several pages were bent back, and she tried to get them straight by bending them the other way, before deciding to put the lamp on top of it with the hope it would weigh them back into place. The room was still so dark, it surprised her to see that the clock read one p.m. It had been five or six when they passed out, and Becky could hardly believe how quickly she adapted back to Elvis’ schedule.

Looking down at him, she returned to cuddle into him, thinking how sweet he looked with his mouth wide open, asleep, completely unperturbed about the weight of the world that he carried on his shoulders. Then, as she shimmied her legs next to his, she felt the distinct, outline of an erect penis. I guess he slept well, she thought, and suddenly felt an aching tingle light up between her legs and a naughty thought enter her mind. Becky bit her lip, wondering how to wake him up without making it obvious. She began to nestle her knee into his cock, then blow air over his eyelids, faintly at first as she watched his long eyelashes flutter and waited to see if it woke him. When he remained asleep, she blew harder, emptying her lungs, until she saw his eyelids move and he opened one eye, with a blank, confused, slightly drugged out stare. This prompted her to plop back, not so stealthily, and pretend to be asleep herself. She also stopped moving her knee over his penis. Sleeping people don’t do that.

“Ha, now watcha think ya doin, Becky Butt?”

Elvis narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. A chuckled escaped Becky’s mouth, and her hand replaced her knee to slowly sweep over the outline of Elvis’ length, teasing his tip with the swirl of her thumb. Elvis seemed to instinctively move back up against the pillows, while also trying half-heartedly to swat away her hands from his pajama bottoms as she moved her head to his crotch.

“Now, honey, you’re a good girl, good girls don’t do that.”

Becky pulled at his waist, leaning down to nuzzle against the silk over his thigh, looking up and batting her lashes.

“Baby, you’ve been so stressed out, this tour got you all worked up. I’m just trying to help you relax and clear your head, so you can figure out what you want to do about your band.”

Elvis released her hands from where he had stopped them at his pants, and flopped back against the head board, resigned and moaning as her hand feathered over him. He closed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling and muttered, “Lord have mercy. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

Becky did a wiggly, little triumphant dance as Elvis shook his head, grinning as she pulled his pants down and very slowly and reverently bent down to kiss the tip, savoring the way his breath became heavier as she did. He bit his lip watching her look at him as she swirled her tongue around his foreskin where it now crested back above the head. In a leisurely, affectionate way, she moved her tongue hesitantly around him, using one hand to loosely palm up and down his shaft as she sucked the tip once more. Kissing it delicately, relishing how sensitive he was, how even just moving her mouth down an inch made his leg jolt. She laughed onto his cock when his knee knocked her head, and she looked up to see a warm, boyish smile beaming back down at her.

“Hey now, be gentle with him. He's, uh, he's, ughhhh, he's shy.”

Becky smiled as best she could up at him with a penis in her mouth, and worked to just move along the end of the foreskin to the top of the head, waiting as he moved her hair to guide her forward. His gasps sent a sharp ping to her core and Becky realized that the sound of Elvis’ hushed pleasure was like an aphrodisiac that she wanted to chase. And chase it she did, hollowing her cheeks to bob further down, seeing how far she could go with out gagging, seeing what happened when his tip hit the back of her throat, savoring the feeling of how it almost choked her.

His mouth now hung open, and he let out a loud moan as she delved deeper with the next thrust. Looking, she saw that his eyes were squeezed shut  and his mouth hung open, the bottom lip shaking tremulously as she began to speed up her tempo, following her mouth with her hand and breathing through her nose as she tried not to gag when she plunged downward. Then she felt Elvis grip her hair with a tight fist.

“Ah honey, oh Becky, oh honey, Imma about to burst!”

She watched his face contort as she nodded her acquiescence and continued to move her mouth over him, possessing him and at the same time giving herself to him as he arched his back up into her and came with a loud, breathy, high pitched cry. He was tangy, and salty, and she looked at him with a seductive wink as she flipped her hair and tried to swallow it all, before gagging and coughing most of it out of the side of her mouth and onto the duvet. This performance was followed by loud belly laughs from both parties as Becky rolled over in a fit of giggles at her clumsy attempt to be sexy. She hid under the pillows and blushed when Elvis moved over, threw the pillow away, and pulled her onto him with a goofy smile.

“Ya sure are sumpthin', Becky Butt. Man ‘o’ man." He sighed, stroking her shoulder. "Haven’t done anything like that in a while. Prolly since last time I saw you.”

“Elvis, you don’t have to lie to me, I see the photos of you with your other girlfriends on tour.”

He sucked in a deep breath, taking her chin to look up at him.

“You mean that girl I invited on tour after you turned me down? Honey, she don’t mean a thing, just someone to keep the bed warm. Wasn’t getting busy with her, tell you that.”

Becky arched her eye. “Really?”

“Mmmmhmmm. She is pretty, but she don't turn me on, not like you, baby. You’re my little snake charmer, member? And man, honey, every time too. Something special bout you. Gonna need you to come on the rest of the tour with me." His arm dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed and Becky realized he must be thinking about the tour. "Fuck, man, gotta figure out what to do bout these singers, goddammit. I don really wanna train new gals to sing, with only a few nights left.”

Becky patted his arm. “So don’t. Just apologize.”

A nervous squeak escaped her throat when she saw his lips purse and his eyes narrow in disbelief at her suggestion.

“You don’t have to mean it! I believe you were right, they are being bitches. Baby, trust me, you know how singers can be, premadonnas. And they are women. You can’t win with us. But you can know in your heart that you were joking, and also do what needs to be done to keep the show going by mending fences. S’easier to catch more flies with honey, E.”

Becky felt like a traitor to her fellow womankind, as she felt fairly certain that whatever had happened, the back up singers probably had every right to be upset. But the end justified the means, right? Her reasoning seemed to have some effect, as Elvis' pinched lips released and he grunted.

She watched as he looked at her, and repeated "easier to catch more flies with honey" in a high, mocking voice, while he rolled over and picked up the phone, asking the operator for Joe’s room. “Get Lowell on a plane, tell him to bring everything in the store. I don’t care, jack, do you work for my daddy? No, that’s what I thought, huh. Yeah, Imma have Felton take it all over to the girls, to everyone, tell them I know things got outta hand this week, let’s leave it in the past. Oh, and I wanna get Myrna a new Caddy, so she knows what loyalty means to me.”

Elvis was patting Becky’s thigh as he did this, his fingers playing a rhythm only he knew. But it made Becky feel special, needed, close to him, and she found a strange contentment just being there, receiving the song his body was tapping out. After he hung up, he called room service and asked them to send two of everything from the breakfast menu, explaining he didn’t care if it was 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

“Ever been Asheville, ha, honey?”

“MMmhmmm. No, can't say I have. Guess we'll have a few days there to figure out what our hobbitses names are.”

“Already know what your’s is. Becky Bobbit.” He grinned wide at her quizzical face. “Cuz you bobbit so good on my nobbit.”

Becky hit him as he burst into a fit of giggles. “Dirty, nasty, mean man.”

“Awww, honey, s’compliment. Wanna keep you round with me always, my lil bobbit hobbit.”

“Ha.”

“Comin’ to Memphis after the tour?”

“Elvis - I -”

“I thought we were talkin’ bout getting you moved up there. You will love it."           

“I will hate it.”

“Nah, you won’t.”

“Hmmm, you might be sick of me after the next few days.”

Elvis squeezed his arm around her tighter, looking down at the stain on the duvet, and then back at her with a silly smile.

“Nah, I won’t.”

***************************************************

For fun...

Thanks for reading.... argh. Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. Comments, reblogs and feedback are very much loved and appreciated.

taglist:

@tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @searchingforgravity @sharebearkk @18lkpeters @elvispresleywife @moonchild-daniella @bisexualwvtson @eliseinmemphis @avengen @father-of-2cats @j-v-9-2 @lillypink @notstefaniepresley @stylespresleyhearted @godlypresley @crash-and-cure @doll-elvis @beeandheroddobsessions @misspresley @yanderereader @alqvarde @yynneessmons @kendralavon7 @daffieapple @louisejoy86 @flwrs4aust @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @leopardandstuds @burningloverdoll @butlersluvbot @precious-little-scoundrel @ashtag6887 @arrolyn1114 @stargirllily19 @amydarcimarie @joshuntildawn13 @ccab @artlover8992 @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @literally-just-elvis-fics

[i-want-my-iwtv]

♥♥♥ Carbonated Blood ♥♥♥

(ノ°∀°)ノ’.:*・°☆

Inspired by recent interest in this blog, and for ppl newly landing on it, I made this pinned post as a welcome, a warning, and some tags I would recommend that are specific to my blog for my favorite stuff. Here's why it's called i-want-my-IWTV.

🤘 A welcome: I'm Burnadette (21+) and this blog is an unofficial Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles appreciation blog started in July 2013, but it's not an authoritative resource, I'm just collecting fanworks and other dash goodies based on my own rubric, sprinkling catnip out to the fandom, and answering asks for ppl who are curious about my opinions on things. I encourage positivity and optimism! ✨

My AO3: Burnadette_dpdl

Co-mod @wicked-felina and I typically run the @vcsecretgifts exchange, you can check out the archive there. We had to take a 2 yr hiatus for real life reasons, we hope to revive it in 2024 💕 In the meantime, go check out @vamptember (@hekateinhell and @monstersinthecosmos), for a wealth of VC fanworks!

⚠️ A warning: You may encounter things you dislike on this blog, such as ship art of ships you dislike, discussions about dark fiction, problematic characters, and other such topics. My free time for fandom is limited and I do this for free for my own entertainment, so I don't engage in bad faith discussion, and I'm generally picky about engaging* in all discussion posts or personal posts.

You may have noticed that I don't post/reblog much about it if I can help it: While I do not like the current IWTV AMC 2022 adaptation, I can talk about it, and I do appreciate that it's brought fresh blood 🩸 into the fandom, a lot of talented fanart and writing! And yes, ppl can enjoy IWTV '22 and other adaptations and canon and absolutely whatever 🤝, these things are not mutually exclusive 😎 (I tag it #iwtv 2022 and #iwtv amc if ppl need to block those tags.) With that said, I think there are some fabulous ppl who can embrace it all, like @xxhellonursexx! There are role models like Nurse, able to venn diagram the VC content with a sense of humor and respect.

So I welcome new fans, and encourage them to ask questions and engage with ppl like me, there is limitless room for everyone.

ANYWAY.

Behold, my STUFF: Some of my favorite tags in no particular order, this may evolve over time:

(Cut for length)

Lin, get in here and settle this - (Not a tag but this is my 20 second magnum opus 😎✨)

vampire physiology - Both about Ricean and other vampire media, studying them like lab animals and talking about it!

Fandom laws - Fandom's been around a long time, and I think a big part of having a great experience in it is mutual respect, which ppl have codified in fandom laws. When/if you break them, you may turn other ppl off and that can spread quickly; you build your reputation by your actions.

digging up an oldie from the archive - when I need to throw an older post on the dash to share again, maybe there's a reason, or a great addition.

hello dinner - Various amusement about vampires and their dinner.

messy eater - Related to the above, it's less common (canonically) for a Ricean vampire to spill a drop of blood, so it used to be more dramatic when we'd see art/fic of spillage! There are vampires from outside VC in that tag, too, I couldn't resist reblogging them.

vampiredevelopment/interviews and rec - this is some of my favorite textmeme content 😂

memeything - y'know, memes, some are embedded in more serious posts, but I think when I first heard the word "meme" I didn't think mine really counted? So I made it "memeything" so as not to land in a "meme" tag if they didn't count, but eventually I decided that "meme" can be pretty widely defined, so mine kinda do, but by that point I was far into the habit of using my own word, so there it is.

how to make a post a vc post - when you just gotta insert your fandom into an unrelated post bc it FITS.

VC fandom hunters - when you're looking for other VC fandom ppl to role play with, etc.!

Lestatiquette - Lestat ettiquette.

Lestatuesque - Someone/something is acting like Lestat.

Lestats closet - Something you might find in Lestat's closet, a resource for fanartists/writers looking for inspo 🙏

Its a coffin - fanart and works involving coffins!

We appreciate and love Louis in this house - There was a wave of sentiment criticizing Louis for various reasons and these are thoughtful responses to that criticism. Tag started by the magnificent @covenofthearticulate/@theballadofmrslovett (go check out her ideas, and her AO3 covenofthearticulate, she is so so good 💞)

Defending Antonio - There's periodic discussion about Antonio Banderas as Armand in the '94 IWTV movie, I love him, and I'm totally rational about it

Louis has canon hair I know that will make at least 2 ppl I know very happy - and idk if I would even reveal privately who they are but definitely not publicly! I don't want to put them on blast! 😅 I appreciate Louis with different hairstyles and I've debated about it enough that like... I can appreciate Options but some ppl would prefer to see his hair as it's described in canon 😙

VC wedding hysteria - What it says on the tin.

iwantmyiwtv has opinions - a way to signal that these are my opinions only and not presented as fact.

Iwantmyiwtv rp - I sometimes take asks for Lestat or Louis to help inspire my fanfic. Specify who you're asking and they might respond 😎, Lestat response starts with ♛, and Louis with ♠.

vc news/vc casting - For sharing news and post casting ideas, as there are multiple adaptations and there's always fantasy casting! It never ends.

not vc/vc adjacent - I see some ppl have adopted these two! I made these out of a kind of purist approach, I wanted to reblog smtg and share it but it wasn't exactly VC, soooo, it's my acknowledgment accordingly.

VC - I may have used this in the past but I don't anymore, bc there are tons of things that could have that abbreviation, I assume, so I don't find it too be descriptive enough for use as a Vampire Chronicles tag 🤷🏼‍♀️

*You may see older posts that were written in a bubblier/sassier manner than I'd be comfortable with now, but I find those to be charming now, it's a 10+ yr old blog, after all! Our internet experience has evolved. What's cringe or even rude now was normal then and I know that my intention was always positivity and anti-censorship, so that includes not censoring myself. ✨ I ask that you have patience with those responses that may not have aged well as you have patience with an artist or writer's earlier works, or your own growth over the years! 🌱

[dixonsdarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Nine

Main masterlist Series masterlist AO3 link Wattpad link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, dixonsdarkelf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, reference to nightmares

Word count: 2.8k

Several days had passed since Daryl left. I’m not gonna lie, I missed waking up after falling out of bed and hearing my door open, peering up to see him standing there, making sure I was alright. Before he left, I was insisting to him that he didn’t need to keep doing that, but I hoped he would ignore me and continue when he returned.

When I wasn’t treating someone, I was helping around Alexandria in other ways. I helped with laundry, cooking, playing with Judith and some of the other kids (they had lots of questions about me being a doctor), tending to the garden, and figuring out how to make Aaron a prosthetic foot. I found a pair of scissors and nail clippers in the infirmary, so I finally got to clip my nails and cut a few inches of dead ends off my hair. I also invited Maggie, Glenn, and Rosita over for dinner one night and cooked for them. Every day, I felt more and more a part of the community and like I belonged there. At times, it would become overwhelming, and I would step away from everything to cry. After being on my own for so long, finding somewhere with good people that welcomed me so warmly was heartwarming, but it also made me ache for my parents, my brothers, and my best friend.

Having the house to myself for a week gave me plenty of time to think about Daryl. Think about our first run, think about every interaction we’ve had, think about what Michonne, Maggie, and Rosita had said, and think about what Carol said. That that wasn’t the first time he had talked to her about me. That he “didn’t hate me. Not even close.” I thought about what I was going to say to him when he got back. Thought about what he did with the note I left as I didn’t have it in me to check the trash can and possibly see it there.

It was starting to get dark out, and I had finished my duties for the day, so I went back home to make dinner. I had found a slow cooker in one of the cabinets in the kitchen, buried away, so I elected to make something I often made in college as I could just start up the slow cooker and leave it. I grabbed various ingredients out from the fridge and cabinets, washing produce off and dumping everything in the pot with water. I turned the timer on and headed upstairs to take a shower. It was a hair-washing day, so it was good that the food was going to take a few hours as I would have plenty of time.

I stopped in my room and grabbed a pair of pajamas. I had originally just been sleeping in my clothes, but the nights were getting chillier, so I needed something warmer. Rosita helped me find a red plaid flannel pajama set that fit perfectly. I had been bringing my clothes with me into the bathroom when I showered to avoid having to scurry around in a towel in case Daryl came back. I got the water running and undressed, stepping into the warm cascade of water.

Earlier, when I had been hanging out with and entertaining some of the children, they asked me what my favorite movies were when movies existed. I told them about my favorite Disney movie from when I was growing up—Sleeping Beauty. I told them all about the tale of Princess Aurora, the fairy godmothers, Prince Philip, and Maleficent. How Prince Philip slayed the dragon to save the princess. How they fell in love and got married. The music was one of my favorite parts, and as I washed and rinsed my hair, I found myself first humming, then singing the song “Once Upon A Dream” from the movie.

I kept singing as I finished my shower. I didn’t think I was perfect by any means, but at least I could hit the higher notes comfortably. The acoustics in the bathroom were stellar. I dried myself off and got into my comfy pajamas, grabbing my glasses off of the sink and putting them back on. I left the bathroom and gave my hair a quick run-through with the towel as I walked back to my room, continuing my serenade as I went.

I grabbed a couple of hair ties off my dresser and shook my hair out again, brushing through it with my fingers and parting it down the middle. I tightly braided each side so that it would turn out wavy again in the morning. I smiled, thinking about all of the times Preston would call me Wednesday when I did this with my hair. Apparently, long black braided hair immediately equals Wednesday Addams.

I grabbed my towel to take it back to the bathroom, and as I stepped out into the hallway, I heard a familiar, gravely voice from downstairs.

“Smells good.”

It felt like I jumped a foot off the ground with how startled I was. The adrenaline was pumping hard, and I turned to steady myself on the railing by the stairs. I looked up and saw Daryl standing in the kitchen, leaned back against the counter, a whiskey in his hand. He was dirty from head to toe, and his hair was disheveled as hell. Despite all the dirt and grime, he was still as handsome as could be. And even though I was startled to high hell, it was wonderful to hear his voice again.

“Christ dude, you have got to stop doing that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” I said, “but hi, you’re back. When did you get back?” I came down the stairs into the kitchen to check on the food. He shifted from leaning on the counter to the island as I entered, stopping to grab a ladle to stir the contents of the slow cooker.

“Long ‘nough ta hear ya in the shower,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink, his other arm folded across his chest. I immediately started blushing, and I felt nauseous at the thought of him judging my vocals. I wanted to die in that moment.

“Fuck. Sorry about that,” I said, gazing down at the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice how red I was.

“Nothing to be sorry ‘bout,” he assured, “what’re ya makin’?” I lifted my head and met his eyes for just a second before I took the lid off the slower cooker and stirred it. This might’ve been the most I’d ever heard the man talk.

“Ok, you can’t laugh,” I said, chuckling a little and putting the lid back on, turning to him, “it’s something my best friend and I came up with in med school. It’s, umm…it’s called a dump ’n pray. You basically just take a bunch of stuff that would probably go well together, dump it all into a slower cooker, and pray that it turns out good. Usually it does. It’s got like a 98% success rate in my experience.”

“Smells real good,” Daryl said, and I gave him a small smile in response, “I uh, got ya somethin’ while we was out.” He leaned over and grabbed a bag off of the floor, and my heart rate picked up again. He opened the bag and pulled out something wrapped in a dirty beige scarf, “thought of ya when I saw it.”

I tried to think about something else to keep myself from turning red. Not just at the fact that Daryl got me something on his trip, but that he thought of me when he was out there. I wondered how often he did that, how often he thought of me exactly. Did he think of me as often as I thought of him?

I unwrapped the scarf carefully in case whatever was inside was fragile. I saw a navy blue fabric with a flower on it peeking out at me, so I grabbed it and let the scarf fall to my feet. The item in my hands was a long navy blue dress with large white flowers and a slit up one leg. It looked like it would fit me perfectly. Despite how dirty Daryl looked, the dress appeared clean, probably thanks to the scarf it was wrapped in. I immediately lit up, smiling big, running my hands on the fabric over and over again. The kind gesture, the fact that he wrapped it in a scarf to keep it clean…my heart swelled, and I felt that warm sensation in my chest again.

“Daryl, I…I don’t know what to say. This is beautiful. I love it. Thank you.” He simply nodded, and I had to ask the question that was scratching at the insides of my brain. “Did you remember?”

“‘Member what?”

“That my favorite color is blue.”

“Got lucky I guess,” he scoffed. He grabbed his things off the ground, including the scarf at my feet, set his drink on the counter, and slipped past me upstairs. I wouldn’t blame him for just wanting to be alone and going to bed to pass out. He was probably exhausted. However, I heard the shower turn on instead.

Once I heard the bathroom door close, I went upstairs to my room and folded the dress neatly, placing it in one of the drawers on the dresser. I grabbed my notebook and a pen and went back downstairs to the couch to do some writing while I waited for the food to finish.

I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs. I ran my hands over the cover of my notebook, my fingers gracing each sticker that they passed. There was a U.S. Navy one, a variety of flowers, a Johns Hopkins one, and some at gotten at a Ke$ha concert as she was my favorite artist. This notebook was my most recent, and it was one of my most prized possessions. I felt like it painted a picture of what my life had looked like over the course of the end of the world so far.

I got lost in what I was writing, eventually being pulled out only by the sound of the slow cooker beeping at me, telling me it was finished. I set my notebook down to get up, but as the beeping finished, Daryl came down the stairs, motioning for me to stay put. He looked clean as a whistle, small residuals of water still dripping from his hair. He had changed into a long-sleeved black shirt that hugged his arms and chest perfectly and a pair of black pants. I bit the interior of my bottom lip to focus on the pain in an attempt to keep myself from blushing or from my eyes lingering for too long.

“Stay sat. Ya made it, least I could do is get ya some,” he said. His gentlemanly attitude surprised me. Just over a week ago, he would hardly look in my direction and was frustrated at the thought of having to share a house with me. But I wasn’t going to say no.

“Oh, umm, okay.” I sat back down on the couch, crossing my legs again. I watched him move through the kitchen, grabbing bowls out of cabinets and spoons out of drawers. I did take just a moment to check out his butt as he moved around. And damn, did it look good in those pants. I quickly averted my eyes as he turned around and came over to me, holding a bowl out. “Thank you.”

He handed me a spoon and took a seat in the chair adjacent to the couch, propping his right foot up on his left knee and letting his body melt back into the chair. I had hoped that maybe he would come and sit down next to me, but I didn’t blame him for wanting his own space to stretch out. And he seemed to have a rather large personal bubble.

I stirred my concoction with the spoon. This one resembled a chili of sorts, not authentic considering the variety of vegetables. But Daryl was right—it did smell good. I scooped some up with my spoon and blew on it before taking a bite. I was impressed with how tasty it came out.

“Told you. 98% success rate,” I said. I set my bowl down on the coffee table for a moment while I adjusted my body, turning so I could stretch my legs out on the couch and grabbing it again. “How was the hunting trip?” He seemed to be more receptive to conversation tonight, so I was going to take advantage of that.

“Went good. Caught a big sum’ bitch. Probly still guttin’ 'em up outside,” Daryl explained, “sorry. We’re eatin’. Might make ya squeamish.” I laughed mid-bite and almost spit my food out.

“I’m a surgeon, Daryl. Nothing makes me squeamish. But I appreciate the consideration.”

“How’d ya sleep while I was away?” he asked. I thought it was nice that he was asking, wanting to know that I was still ok even when he wasn’t coming to check on me. Nice, but it also confused me. He didn’t seem to be the type to…I don’t know, ask questions like that? He was so cold and calloused towards everyone, me included. But right now, Daryl was warm, and dare I say, sweet.

“Alright I guess. The nightmares are getting more…vivid.” I immediately felt ashamed and stopped myself before I said too much “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” I stared into my bowl, stirring my food again, regretting what I had said.

“Keep goin’ if ya wanna,” he encouraged. I blinked a few times in surprise and looked up at him. He was looking at me, those beautiful blue eyes of his piercing through the few strands of hair that fell on his face. His bowl was in his lap, and it looked like he hadn’t touched it yet. I felt bad that he was waiting for me to finish talking because he was probably ravenous after his trip. But apparently, listening to lil’ ol’ me talk was more important than satiating his hunger.

“Umm…well they started off as just a blur of colors and physical sensations. And each night, something else becomes a little more clear. Now there’s sounds, but the visuals are still pretty fuzzy. I, umm…” my voice trailed off, and I felt small, a little scared even as I thought about how my nightmares were becoming more and more vivid. I knew what the nightmare was. I knew what it was going to look like when everything was clear, and that terrified me. I blinked a few times and shook my head a little to bring myself back to reality, and I realized I had started absentmindedly doing my little habit of scratching at my thumb with my index finger. “Sorry. Could…could we maybe talk about something else?” Rather than replying with a yes or no, he changed the topic.

“Ya likin’ it here so far?” Trying to shake the thought of my nightmares from my mind, I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes. I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes, faking a yawn to make it look like I was just sleepy. I blinked back the last little bit of tears and wiped the sides of my hands on my legs.

“Yeah, a lot,” I said, putting my glasses back on, “everyone’s so nice. I had Maggie, Rosita, and Glenn over for dinner the other night. They seem like really good people. I like them a lot. It feels good to be around other people and wake up in the same place every day.” I looked up at him, his bowl still in his lap. “You, uh, you can eat. You don’t have to just listen to me yap on.”

“They’re good people. Some of the best,” Daryl said, ignoring my statement about him eating, “ya really on ya own ‘fore ya got here?” His gravely voice and cute little Southern way of speaking was a match made in heaven for my ears.

“I was. Gimme just a minute and I’ll tell you all about it.” I set my bowl down on the coffee table and got up to use the bathroom and grab my blanket. As I got to the top of the stairs, I heard Daryl finally start eating. And judging by the sounds, he certainly was ravenous. I grabbed my blanket off my bed after I went to the bathroom and came back down. I was gone for no more than five minutes, and he had set his bowl on the coffee table as well, empty this time. I sat back on the couch, wrapped up in my blanket, chuckling lightly in amusement. I met his gaze again to continue my story.

“Food was good,” he said, “ya should make it again.”

“If you insist.”

© message below made by me. Sparkle & 'continue reading' dividers are by @/anitalenia

[garygoldenbignaturals]

pinned poast

they/them, 22, tme | hi my name is (psy)chix and i'm from some place called jakarta indonesia + am jawa if u care. alongside being a muslim i also practice haterism but don't worry i like plenty of things too. sometimes i even blog about them here.

links - art blog [finished work only, check under the cut for art tag] | spotify | backloggd | beastcouture [gangrel sideblog] >> GAZAFUNDS | SUDANFUNDS << click the links and donate to a vetted fundraiser today

transmasc nb + bi, ok with gendered terms such as dude, bro, girl, etc. being used on me as well as gn ones. hi i'm mx. chix ^_^ beginner level bahasa indonesia required to get the best experience from my blog. must tolerate gollum to experience my blog at all. that aside, welcome 2 my abode...

i may be a hater but all haters are first and foremost lovers. currently interested in the elder scrolls, vampire: the masquerade, amc's iwtv, mad men, ace attorney with an emphasis on dgs, fallout, brba/bcs, gundam, signalis, among other things. i've never heard of star war. i also like talking about fantasy worldbuilding, music, and of course being an oc pervert, my ocs. the ocs i most often talk about are jaden, iggy, alfyrrha, and saai.

i'm from the global south. please don't get surprised when i say something unsavory about the US empire and its allies. and do notttt follow me if you think misandry is real or exists in the same capacity as misogyny! this counts for "transandrophobia" with transmisogyny as well.

minors be wary when following me, sometimes i reblog crass or more than suggestive things. they're not always tagged, but go ahead and block #nsft if you must. and everyone, too, should be wary, bc i can get really fucking annoying about lacroix vtmbloodlines.

tags for navigation #my art - art tag👍 #chixtalks - talking tag, and word of caution, this gets used a lottt #about me - posts that are hashtag mecore #exquisite - pieces of art, words, etc, that are, to me, exquisite #gnomeposting - for those little guys with an affinity for berries and mischief #cookbook - recipes! tag me in em. just make sure it's halal lol

gollumanda, thesis of my blog, courtesy of mutual alina adelidae (we owe our debtses to you)

[csolarstormhealthjournal]

Okay, so the Medicaid cuts stressed me out so much that it made me feel sick. Or that could be a coincidence. In any case, I'm starting to gain some perspective on this whole scenario of living without benefits.

To be clear, Medicaid is just the beginning if it happens and things continue the way they are. SNAP cuts/the end of SNAP is also in the bill, and Musk is suggesting that Social Security is full of fraud. So in the longterm what I'm really afraid of is losing all of our income. Diane's job comes out of Medicaid, but Dorothy and I contribute Social Security money.

That said, my family without benefits would be hard -- we'd probably sell our house -- but we might still make it work. Diane always talks about actually becoming a nurse. I can picture her training for that while working at Walmart or Del Taco or something.

In the past we talked about all of us getting jobs, but it could be a while before I get work because I'm such a wreck. That's why SSI is a good fit for me. But without it, I can imagine Diane would support me for some time, maybe while I take a few tutoring jobs here and there, until either I find an online gig, or she has a suggestion for me that works out. Ticket taker at AMC? Walmart greeter? A lifetime of living off government checks has made me really self-conscious about being a mooch, so I would try my best, but I have a really bad constitution.

And in the long run...by myself, I'm not going to be able to work the multiple jobs it takes for someone to live in California. If we're not tethered to California's IHSS, we could move to a cheaper state. But ultimately? I've always known I am a product of the state, a kind of government project that doesn't exist without the motivation to fund me.

I was reading the disability Reddit, and one of the recommendations for someone to support themselves was to get into a relationship so someone can take care of you. That's one of the reasons I haven't tried to get into a relationship. I have a pretty hard time imagining roping someone into THIS after seeing the kind of stress my closest friends went through when directly exposed to my medical life.

Nonetheless, if I can't make the kind of money I need to support myself in an SSI-less future, what would I do without my parents? At least they chose to bring me about. And they knew I was going to be handicapped and decided to go through with the whole thing. Not that I want to mooch off them either! All this time I've been mooching off the government, not my parents. And if Diane ends up working to support us for the first time the mooching will feel more personal, more direct and kind of embarassing.

I suppose what I'd do is go back to the Department of Rehabilitation - if that still exists - okay never mind - we'd try to save up to send me on back to grad school, but likely at CalState or somewhere besides CalPoly, or just go for my teaching credential and attempt to teach in grade school.

I told my counselor the other day that what really counts is that even if we lose all of the benefits and the house what counts is that life goes on. Hopefully.

I mean without Medicaid, my pain meds and antidepressant are dependant on our paycheck. Diane promised to keep buying them for me, and ideally I would if I could start affording them.

It especially makes me feel kinda sick to think of losing my doctors because they keep me alive, and I've gone through a traumatic experience where I tried to go to a local hospital for an infection, and almost died there. I need these specialists, and I can't just substitute any doctor in that field, even if they're really good, they might not have that specialty knowledge that I need.

Wait. I mean if there is no Medicaid - well hopefully California will at least offer something. At least while Social Security is around, they could still offer some watered down insurance to SSI recipients.

I don't know how getting health insurance outside of a job works, but if there are no state programs at all, that's what we'd have to do. Diane gets health insurance through IHSS, and Dorothy gets Medicaid.

And that's my perspective. It's not immediate doom but my disability and health will make things a lot harder - but I'd also have my family's help.

[kcwagenseller]

Security!

It's Thursday, April 3rd, and my brother and I hop in my Nissan Rogue and head to Deerbrook Mall because we have opening night Minecraft Tickets at the AMC Theaters there. The Deerbrook mall was the mall of choice growing up. I even worked there in High School. I worked concessions until they promoted me to usher, giving me more freedom and responsibility.

After a 4 course Japanese meal at Shogun's in Atascocita, we head to the mall. We go to a few stores: I bought some gauges for my ears, checked on a jeweler because my middle finger is swollen and infected from a silver ring that is too tight. The jeweler told me to go to the ER and have it cut. I am trying to keep the ring. Not cut it. I will keep an eye on it. We are sitting in the food court waiting for the movie to start, giving the theater time to clean and open the doors when a security guard approaches. "Excuse me, sir, we have complaints that you have been indecently exposing yourself to minors in the mall." "I've done no such thing." I retort.

"Nonetheless, we have had several complaints. You can't go around showing people your booty-hole." "I haven't shown my booty-hole to anyone."

"Nonetheless, your attire isn't appropriate for this venue. I am going to ask you to leave the premises or we will call Houston PD and tell them you are trespassing."

My brother and I looked at him like he was crazy.

"What about my movie tickets? Do I get a refund? It's the whole reason I am here...to see Minecraft on opening night."

"We are under no obligation to refund your movie tickets. You are required to leave." I get up and start walking to the exit. Both security guards kinda stand there, then my brother gets up and follows behind me, then gets in front of me.

The escalators were closed, so I asked, "If the escalators are closed, how do we leave?"

"We will open an elevator for you." They say.

They escort us to a nearby elevator, ride the elevator with us and escort us out the mall.

"Thanks for ruining my night out with my brother. It was the highlight of my evening." I add as they split off and we walk toward my SUV.

I called the Deerbrook Mall management this morning and complained and described the men, even though they never gave me a name. I almost asked for badge numbers, but they were rent-a-cops...they don't have badge numbers. I demanded that they be let go for harassing retired military. If the mall does not comply, then I will take it up with the news.

You want to hear a real security story? It's 2005 in Virginia Beach, Virginia. Some Navy buddies and I are at a party at a hotel. There was always lots of parties. Some of the people at the party were from another ship, and I had met them while on medical workup at Portsmouth Naval Hospital after a bad car accident while home on leave in 2004.

I don't remember exactly what transpired, but one of the guys from the other ship had insulted and dared my friend to do something that put him in danger. I pulled out my Kershaw that my dad gave me as a graduation present and told me to carry with me everywhere, and I did. I flipped it around so that it was palm down with the knife blade behind me, something I had been trained to do while a part of a special anti-terrorism unit....domestic anti-terrorism. This was around the time I stopped a domestic terrorist attack.

As soon as I brandished my knife, my three shipmates whooped out theirs and asked, "What's the story, Wagen?" I stood still for a moment, everything calm. Everyone waiting for me to speak.

Finally, I said very loudly at about 10pm, "You have crossed my friend (he went on to be the best man at my wedding four years later) and therefore me and my division. You can leave peacefully or stay and fight. I leave the choice to you."

Everyone kinda stood still for a second. I could feel the bloodlust growing amongst my men, me being most senior to all of them on the boat and off the boat.

"Eric, you ok?"

"Yeah, buddy. I'm good."

"If they decide to fight, you get first. Huang your third, and Cole your fourth." I was second, but only after I put Eric on them.

My men barked. I barked.

They guys quietly gathered their things and each other and left.

I am confident we continued to drink, and may have even caught a late movie at Lynnhaven mall.

That's how you security....

Wagen, out.

[sw33tkamot3]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

On Tuesday, 9/10/2024, I decided it was time to stop deleting my journals and focus on writing more consistently and improving my skills. That day, instead of working out, I learned from a coworker that the movie Beetlejuice had a sequel, and they said it was good. I had left work about 1.5 hours early, intending to sleep more, but I didn't. I slept around 8:00 AM, woke up late, and felt lazy.

After work, Vanessa called me, and as usual, I missed her call. I mentioned that we should check out the Beetlejuice sequel since I’d heard positive things about it. When Vanessa got home, we playfully argued, as we always do, and she bought tickets for the 7:00 PM showing at AMC Plaza Bonita. We needed to leave by 6:30 PM, so we did some chores, fed the dogs, and made sure they had water before leaving them on the front porch.

Once we arrived at the theater, we checked in, and Vanessa bought snacks—two hot dogs, nachos, a soda, and some chocolates, though I can’t recall the candy’s name. While I used the restroom, Vanessa cleverly prepped the nachos. She asked for scissors and cut the top of the nacho bag, so the cheese wouldn't soak through the cardboard tray like it did last time when we watched Deadpool. Last time, I poured liquid peppers over the nachos, and the box leaked, soaking my pants before I even realized it. This time, we avoided that mishap.

We headed into Theater 4, and while munching on snacks, noticed the place was relatively empty. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, although it felt a bit short for some reason. Vanessa laughed and giggled throughout, which made it even more fun. I’d give the movie a solid 5/5.

After the movie, we agreed we had to re-watch the first Beetlejuice to catch some references we might’ve missed. We went home, gave Whim a bath, and called it a night.

[murfpersonalblog]

In Defense of the Vampire Armand - My Response

I look at posts by @ravenundergrove / @mdeitrick13 sideways, cuz this person saying book/AMC!Armand is no worse than any other TVC character cuz they're all problematic is the same one who ALSO posted that BS about "gross" AMC!Louis being "worse" than "ALL the characters in TVC" for being a pimp; then blocked anyone who disagreed (me inc.); changed their name & posted all their anti-Louis diatribes on a separate blog (X X); only to come back & castigate Louis from a different angle with her brand new post In Defense of Armand (X X). (I've been saving all this for months.)

There's 3 points Raven/May Deitrick/wtvr makes that I'll address:

Pimps & Abuse

Irresponsible Maitre/Coven Masters

The Trial & Villains

1: Hard Out Here For a Pimp

I'm actually gonna start off with Raven/May's original anti-Louis Top 10 Least Favorite Characters anti-Louis post, since it snowballs:

ALL TVC vampires represent some form of moral greyness/blackness that makes them worthy candidates of eternal damnation as vampires. Crazy as it sounds, hating a slaveowner or a pimp is actually a very low bar to pass. You don't get a morality/ethics cookie for knowing that human exploitation of any kind is reprehensible (racial, sexual, etc). What's harder is differentiating the dynamics between characters who exercise power and/or weaponize vulnerability in certain ways; WHY they behave the way they do.

The fandom can call AMC!Louis emotionally manipulative/abusive & naive & irresponsible & arrogant all day long. Yes Louis was a pimp 30yrs BEFORE he met Armand. But like I've said 1000x, there's no way you can point to any of Louis' actions towards Armand either in the books/film/show and honestly say Louis EVER had the upper hand against Armand, or that he robbed Armand of his agency, autonomy, and free will to make his own choices & decisions. Show me a model of abuse of power where Louis is checking MORE boxes than Armand, I double dare you. With Loumand, the character who was actually pimped out was CLAUDIA, not Armand.

So I find Raven/May/etc's whole spiel acting like she GAF about defending Black women's rights against pimps ironic AF, cuz she NEVER actually talks about how ARMAND violated & pimped out CLAUDIA, the Black woman who Armand effing KILLS. And yet being a pimp is allegedly the most "gross/worst" thing for a TVC character to be, hence why Raven/May hates Louis so much, but not Armand?? 🤔 In Paris, the ONLY one "profiting off the pain and labor of Black women" is ARMAND. 💵 The one cutting off Lou & Claudia from contacting Roget for Lestat's bank accounts is ARMAND. 💵

But in their Top 10 post, Raven/May just regurgitated the same pimp!Louis narrative, and doubles down in the Defense post, as if Armand was some helpless bystander to Louis' sexual abuses & deviances:

It's SO funny how Raven/May uses the scene in 2x5 in SanFran about Louis' 100+ kills as a gotcha, when Loumand KNEW they were only together to spite Lestat; but she acts like Louis was "cheating" on Armand (even though they were in an OPEN relationship the ENTIRE time they knew e/o; Louis point blank ASKED Armand "is that OK with you?" and Armand told Louis "go have your fun" then had the NERVE to whine at Lou about picking lint off the sofa later; a la "I heard your hearts dancing"); meanwhile deliberately NOT mentioning Loumand's dynamic in Paris, where they had the exact same open relationship when Armand DID want them to be genuine companions, and Louis said NO. In the 1946-1949 Paris Albums, Loumand banged AND killed hundreds of men in Paris together!

ARMAND would kill the men Louis had sex with! "FOR SPORT." Don't sit up here tryna act like Armand has the moral highground, and that Louis' some nasty jezebel out there "cheating" on him, when Lou AND Armand participated in bloody orgies together all the way back in Paris, into SanFran; the only difference is that Armand started REJECTING Louis ("go have your fun"), so Lou went off on his own, cuz Armand was BORING him. Their needs/wants were incompatible AF ("the coven made me forget I had a d**k"), so Lou LEFT Armand, to have his TRI-ANNUAL "eff off and find me laters." Armand chose to track Louis down--obvs Lou did NOT care if Armand stayed or not, or cleaned up after him or not. The Bed Death Truthers were RIGHT all along. 💀

People sympathize with Claudia more than Armand, cuz Armand's not the one who's EFFING DEAD. 🤦

And ANOTHER false equivalency is to even pretend for an instant that book!Armand = AMC!Armand > AMC!Claudia. Yes, book!Armand only kills evildoers--same with book!Lestat. But AMC threw out the Evil Doer rule; these vamps all kill whoever they want, inc. Armand, "FOR SPORT." AMC!Claudia is a serial killer, yes, AND so is AMC!Armand. And so is AMC!Louis, AMC!Lestat, AMC!Daniel, etc. Stop conflating the book character with the show character, when they're two different beasts with VERY different trajectories. AMC changed Armand the most! He's the one one who LEAST resembles his book counterpart in action & deed & behavior.

As for the infantilization point, it's moot, cuz unlike book!Armand, AMC!Armand was NOT a 17-year old when he was Turned; he was 27, a grown effing man. I DO sympathize equally with book!Armand & book!Claudia, cuz they have similar struggles as tiny AF underaged vamps, despite how obvs intelligent & capable they actually are. Full grown AMC!Armand has no such excuse. Try again.

2: Loumand's Irresponsibility Is All Louis' Fault? 🤨

That's ARMAND'S Theatre and HIS coven, NOT Santiago's or Louis'.

Yes, Louis was a EFFING FOOL to stay in Paris, and Armand was a EFFING FOOL to let him. But the exact same reasons Armand lets Louis stay in Paris & hang out with the coven are the same reasons Louis keeps his mouth shut about Claudia join the coven: LOVE. Loumand are BOTH submissive weak-willed men who make the wrong decisions cuz they're afraid of hurting/losing the ones the love most. However, at the end of the day, it was never Louis' decision to stay in Paris or not, it was ARMAND'S. It is the Coven Master's responsibility to protect his coven and have their best interests at heart, and as a leader he was a hopeless failure--he never wanted to lead them in the first place, by his own admission in 2x3. Armand got his coven destroyed TWICE, by Lestat AND by Louis, and Daniel was right that he let it happen--out of sheer negligence, if anything else ("you can get lazy").

NO, Louis doesn't care about stupid coven politics, cuz he's NOT a coven member. He never vowed to follow any of their rules--he wasn't even IN THE ROOM when the laws were read--to CLAUDIA.

YES, it's disrespectful AF that Lou was flaunting how he DGAF in the coven's faces. Yes, Lou gallivanted around doing as he pleased--but ARMAND LET HIM DO IT. Louis was HONEST about his intentions in Paris, and said it was ARMAND'S decision if he had a problem with Louis being independent or not. If Armand was serious, THAT was the moment to tell Louis to GTFO of Paris & take his brat with him.

Louis even tells Armand in 2x4 that after Claudia joins the coven he'd LEAVE PARIS. Y'all Louis-Antis make me sick of the revisionist history y'all keep blathering, as if Louis INSISTED on staying in Paris and WANTED to be around the coven; when ARMAND'S the one who chose not to kill Lou, asked him to stay in 2x3, and to hang out with the coven in 2x4!

Armand said Lou being around MORE would HELP. 🤣 He stood like a SIMP letting Lou piss the whole coven off, hearts in his eyes thinking with the head in his pants not the one on his shoulders, getting his whole effing coven killed in the fallout--and yet LOUIS is the Pick Me? Chile. ALL these vamps are d**kmatized idiots! 🤦Lou ALWAYS gave Armand the choice to turn him away, but Armand NEVER took it.

Even when Lou's laid up in 2x5 burnt to a effing crisp after ARMAND drives him to suicide (a la Nicki) and can barely hobble his way around their flat in SanFran, Armand has ALL the room & opportunity to call Lestat and tell him Yo pick up your sloppy annoying crazy fledgling, he's at this address on Divisadero Street; I'm out of here; and yet he STILL doesn't effing LEAVE Lou--the gremlin or the good nurse strikes again! How in the HELL is it Lou's fault Armand constantly makes pisspoor decisions!? How is LOU to blame for ARMAND'S 500y/o character./personality flaws?! He does the exact same thing with Loustat that he does with NickiStat, repeating his same mistakes over & over.

Even when Daniel's exposed Armand's lies and caught him RED HANDED with his notes all over the effing margins of the Trial script, Armand was STILL tryna stop Louis from leaving, saying it was a forgery and that Daniel was tryna frame him and it's just a small thing about covering up his plan to kill Louis & his daughter NBD, like wtf?

3: The Trial Villains: Armand, Santiago, or Lestat? 🤔

This part is WILD:

Are you EFFING kidding me right now? Raven/May says it's "karma" that no one aided Louis & Claudia at the Trial (which is false--Lestat saved Louis 🤡), because Louis & Claudia refused to help save Emilia from the Romanian mob. FALSE EQUIVALENCY. Neither Louis nor Claudia had anything to do with Emilia being bitten; let alone the Romanians deciding to kill her. (We don't actually know if it was Daciana or the Revenant, or even a real wolf like Morgan said. But those wounds on her effing jugular were fatal, they were squirting arterial spray, she was gonna die regardless--she was ALREADY dead in the book.) Yes, Emilia did them a good turn by letting them stay in the bunker. And Louis literally repaid that kindness by trading food & shelter for vodka & cigarettes--that's how the barter system effing works.

Yes, it was tragic that Emilia died, but it was NOT their responsibility to help Morgan save her. This is a TOTALLY different situation than Lestat showing up at the Trial, where his HUSBAND & DAUGHTER were being sentenced by a mob, NOT some random effing stranger they were gonna LEAVE behind that night regardless--they were there for DACIANA, not Emilia. Raven/May uses the excuse that Armand only knew Lou a handful of YEARS as a justification for why he didn't owe it to Lou to chose him over the coven--but then she makes this insane argument about how Lou & Claudia deserved to die cuz they didn't save Emilia, some random chick they only met a few DAYS ago!? 🤣 Next is this BS:

Omfg. 😅

1: Armand did NOT save Lou's life by pulling him out of the coffin; I've explained that b4: starvation does NOT kill vampires, it just drives them crazy, until they go to SLEEP. If starvation killed vamps, Lou would've been dead b4 Antoinette ever showed up. If starvation killed vamps, Akasha & Enkil would've been dead b4 Marius ever showed up, and every vampire with them. Unlike Lou, most vamps aren't crazy enough to fight their impulse to drink human blood. They're IMMORTAL; only ONE thing can actually kill a TVC vamp: destroying their BRAIN--kill it with fire, eat it, decapitation, etc.

2: Louis is not a LIAR™, he has AMNESIA and mental illness(es) that confuse & muddle his odyssey of recollection. The one time we DO see him outright lie is in 2x5 about how much he hated Lestat--again, based off the SEISMIC LIE ARMAND told him about "Banishment." Armand lies to cover up his wrongdoings that he KNOWS are effed up and is tryna get away with; throwing the rock & hiding his hand; "I couldn't prevent it." His whole Rashid ruse was to hide his identity from Daniel ("my name is in some of those pages"). The lie about Bruce in 2x2 was not LOUIS' lie, it was CLAUDIA'S. Louis went along with it, as he goes along with everything Claudia does, to make up for the one time he told her No (the chokehold in 1x7). And NO, Loumand's relationship would NOT have been built on "another Seismic Lie Louis told about Bruce/Lestat," BECAUSE Armand is the BEST mind reader, and Lou's a GARBAGE liar. Armand EASILY read Lou's mind the very "first night at the theatre;" and he FELT DreamStat in Lou's effed up head ("there HE is again")--Lou would've NEVER been able to trick Armand into a fake relationship; he folded like a wet blanket the second Armand pressed him about "Bruce", STOP IT! 🤣

On top of this, we KNOW Armand & the coven can telepathically contact Lestat over THOUSANDS of miles. It took Santiago, Celeste & Estelle as a team to do in 2x7 what Armand managed in 2x5 alone. The whole argument about Louis & Claudia lying about Bruce/Lestat is moot, #1 uz it didn't effing happen, and #2 cuz Lou's fragile mental state spilled more than a leaky faucet and he could NEVER "keep that loose head of yours tight" like Claudia told him to do in 2x2--Armand even told him so in the same episode, that Lou needed to work harder at blocking his thoughts, cuz he projects too easily! Louis is honest to a FAULT; he's NOT A LIAR; but y'all antis LOVE reading Lou as this evil mastermind villain, like WHOMST?! 🤨

But YES, like Armand, Lestat IS a huge liar; I've said he's an even bigger manipulator & gaslighter & villain than Armand; esp. towards CLAUDIA. Cuz you're right: Armand only knew Lou 4 years tops. Drop in a bucket, and Louis insisted the whole time that they were NOT companions. But Loustat was MARRIED for 30 years, they shared a home & and raised a child together. And that child DIED cuz of Lestat's lies at the Trial. I hate Les's role in the Trial even more than Armand's, and even more than everything Les pulled in S1 (Ep5 inc.). Les's antics in that Trial are effing DISGUSTING, racist AF, and I WANTED Armand to be the one save Louis with "Banishment." But I KNEW Rolin had it out for Armand since S1, and that AMC was gonna throw him under the bus to make Lestat look better, cuz Les is TVC's hero & MC. I agree every time people say it's unfair how AMC portrayed Armand. But what I'm NOT gonna do is deflect Armand's culpability for the things he actually did ON THE SHOW in front of our effing EYES; just cuz I love his BOOK character.

It is patently untrue that no one that no one argues that Lestat should've stopped the coven--the fandom was REELING when Sam Reid discussed Lestat's "agency" during the Trial, cuz we've ALL been sitting here tryna figure out WHY TF Lestat did eff all during the rehearsal, let alone the Trial itself, when he's the only one on that stage with Akasha & Magus' blood in him! Cuz we KNOW book!Les was tortured & starved--BY ARMAND--and that AMC hasn't explicitly confirmed if AMC!Lestat was hurt or not. We can totally have a valid convo about how unbalanced & unfair & biased the fandom is to blame Armand more than Lestat, without pretending that people haven't been looking at Lestat sideways, too (x x). There's just way more excuses for him, ofc cuz of racism, but also cuz of legit book canon reasons that DO make Armand look like way more of a villain.

No one's forgotten that Santiago's a slimy p.o.s.; he was the close 2nd place in the poll I responded to here:

What shocked me is that Armand won the poll, and not LESTAT; cuz I also agree that Armand is NOT the ultimate villain of AMC!IWTV: LESTAT is. I blame Lestat for EVERYTHING, inc. Armand's actions towards Louis & Claudia; everything loops back to Armand's effed up psychosexual obsession with Lestat, and how he feared Louis would never pick him first over Lestat, Claudia, Madeleine, Daniel, etc. His M.O. is ALWAYS to TORTURE & KILL anyone who Louis gets close to; to keep Louis from leaving him--then he falls back on The Great Laws as an excuse/defense/justification/etc.

And YES, this is RADICALLY different from BOOK!Armand--I was taken aback that Louis dumped Armand in 2x8, cuz BOOK!Armand dumped Lou--I'd been expecting the book canon this whole time.

book!Armand was perfectly fine leaving Louis, cuz he knew he had DANIEL as a contingency plan, as I explained in my response to Raven/May's Misrepresenting Armand post.

Everything AMC!Armand does is so much worse than his book counterpart, BECAUSE of the 77-year Seismic Lie he tells about "Banishment," that never existed in the books. Book!Armand lied to Louis that Lestat was DEAD, and lied to Lestat that Louis was dead. book!Louis KNEW Armand was involved with the Trial, cuz book!Les SAID as much DURING the Trial, that Armand promised Les he could take Lou back home to NOLA if he threw Claudia under the bus. book!Louis knew that Lestat AND Armand had been in on it.

AMC!Louis is COMPLETELY blindsided by Armand's involvement. That Seismic Lie changes Loumand's entire dynamic, cuz Lou had ZERO consent in his relationship with Armand after Paris. Lou had ZERO awareness that Armand has lied to him about the nature of the Trial, and Armand's part in it--Lou would've NEVER gone with Armand & left Lestat in that Tower Scene if he knew the TRUTH. The split second he knew, he was GONE from Dubai--he ran right back to NOLA to apologize to Lestat, "I came to see YOU." Armand utterly violated Louis' trust, and abused his power over & over & over, erasing Louis' memories & planting new ones, all to make that one Seismic Lie stick. That Trial is the lynchpin (pun intended) that crumbles any & all defense about Armand, because AMC!Armand is NOT book!Armand anymore after that. book!Armand didn't lie to Louis about the Trial. AMC!Armand DID. So no, I don't blame him MORE than I blame Lestat, cuz again: I always keep the same energy about COVEN MASTERS.

Armand was the Coven Master of the Theatre in Paris and it's HIS fault they got killed cuz he wasn't watching out for them properly.

Lestat was the Coven Master of the Unholy Family in NOLA and it's HIS fault Claudia got killed cuz he wasn't watching out for them properly.

Raven/May keeps centering Armand in 2x7, when he was NOT the one actually on Trial about to be exposed to the effing sun or buried alive in a coffin full of rocks. Louis & Claudia are the ones with their ankles gashed and laughed at & humiliated as they suffered on that stage, scared to effing death that they'd be killed without even knowing that the Trial was even gonna happen. THEY are THE victims in the Trial; IDGAF what tears Armand & Lestat sheds, or what accusations Santiago & Lestat lobbed at Louis for being a perverted pimp and Claudia for being a premeditating murderess.

A person can be a coldblooded criminal, and STILL be the victim of abuse of power--that's why judicial systems around the world have laws in place to PROTECT the defendant accused of wrongdoing by the plaintiff & the court/jury. That's why the defendant is (supposed to always be) treated as innocent until proven guilty; and given their fair chance to defend themselves & present their side of the story. That's why BS like leading questions & tampering with evidence & perjury & effing with the jury are illegal AF; that's how criminals get off on technicalities, cuz their rights have been abused by the judicial system that abused its power--regardless if the criminal actually committed the crime.

Raven/Masy using Emilia's death by the mob to blame Lou & Claudia is stupid AF, cuz Lou & Claudia had no part in her execution. They didn't set her up, steal her weapons to make sure she was defenseless; frame her by telling the vamps to eat her; victim blame her for being out in the woods at night or accuse her of anything; tellling the Romanians she was evil & deserved to die cuz of XYZ.

And that's why the Trial in 2x7 was a totally EVIL bastardization of justice; cuz Armand AND his nasty coven ACCUSED Louis & Claudia of a whole LIST of crimes, then robbed Louis and ESPECIALLY Claudia of their right to properly defend themselves. The're physically silenced & immobilized, tortured & dehumanized, mocked & gaslit. It is the GROSSEST abuse of power in the entire series--and Anne Rice did that INTENTIONALLY: CLAUDIA'S death is the biggest tragedy in TVC, cuz that's HER daughter's untimely death she's saying was unfair & wrong; a powerless girl's death for something that wasn't even her fault.

So no, I don't sympathize with AMC!Armand, even though I DO agree that as a Coven Master he IS justified in wanting Louis & Claudia dead. But the time to have killed them was in 2x2, when he new they were effing lying about Bruce/Lestat. Instead, he stood around flirting & teeheeing with Louis, instead of being a proper leader.

Raven/May/etc has a whole spiel about how AMC misrepresented Armand, but I actually agree with her--cuz BOOK!Armand is 100% NOT AMC!Armand. AMC's adaptation does indeed present a far more devious if not villainous character, particularly wrt to Claudia's ultimate fate. Armand is THE most altered character AMC changed, and I don't like it either! Book!Armand is my fave TVC character! I AGREE that book/film/AMC!Armand had every right to kill Louis & Claudia; it's what he ALWAYS does, as Coven Master--he purges his territory of rogue vampire riffraff, just like ALL Coven Masters do--Lestat & Marius & Pandora & Santino & Maharet & Rhoshamandes & Akasha etc included. My problem with AMC!Armand is his METHODOLOGY; claiming "I will not harm you, and I never have;" then having a whole mountain of skeletons in his closet--lies on top of lies. Even Book!Armand was honest enough to acknowledge that he would be "accused for all time by all of having destroyed [Claudia]." AMC extends that to include Louis as someone who was also supposed to have died with Claudia. But unlike book!Armand, AMC's version is NOT honest at all, and it's effing triggering to have this gaslighting manipulative character make a Black man with mental illness & PTSD look like a raving effing lunatic, liar & pervert; when Armand's the one effing around in Louis' head this whole time.

[cbrownjc]

This is rather like me. I joined the fandom pretty much about a few months after the 1994 movie came out. I got a computer for my HS graduation present in the spring of '95, in prep for me going to college in the fall, and it came with a dial-up modem. So that was my first foray online. And the two fandoms I joined up with were Star Trek and The Vampire Chronicles. Message Boards, mailing lists, etc.

So yeah, I too was there when the hammer came down on fanfic after Memnoch. Unfortunately, I didn't have the idea to save fics and RPs and stuff until it was almost too late. And the stuff I DID save was all saved on 3.5in hard disks, which I don't have the ability to access anymore.

And yeah, for a time there we all did think Memnoch would be the last book in the series. At the time I was sad but I don't think it was too long before Tales of the Vampires was announced, which was billed as stories about other vampires in the world who weren't Lestat, which I was excited to read about. Pandora was the first of what was supposed to be those books.

And then the book Symphony for Sybelle was announced which had everyone confused but interested . . . before the title of that book was announced to have been changed to The Vampire Armand and then everyone went nuts. Because, if you read Memnoch, then you know what he did toward the end of that book. Everyone thought Armand was dead and was never coming back.

Now, this is just my own perception of things, but it was right after both Pandora and The Vampire Armand were released, along with the legal stuff from Anne about fanfic, that I really felt cracks beginning to happen in the fandom. And the cracks really were very much between the fandom and Anne Rice herself, not within the fandom itself. Even though, even back there, there were people who refused to acknowledge any of the books past Queen of the Damned. (Yes, there are people for whom only the first 3 books exist and no others).

I pretty much started drifting away from the fandom after Merrick came out. Before Blood Canticle, Merrick was the most hated book in the canon I think, passing Memnoch which had held that title before then.

And I, personally, think it all had to do with David Talbot.

Merrick was the third book in a row that featured David, but this time he wasn't just a means for another character to tell their story but was the main actual character. In a book that, before it had come out, was promised to be about Louis dealing with the grief he still held about Claudia, and some powerful revelations about her that would be revealed.

And yeah, that all happened but, the fact that the main POV of the story was David's and the actual main focus was on David . . . people were freakin' livid. Back in the day, I actually only read scans of the relevant Louis and Claudia parts (which my mailing list called the "Louis Cut") of that book. I didn't read the whole book, meaning all the David bits, until recently.

I checked Blood and Gold out of the library and Blackwood Farm was the last book I both bought and read, and where I consciously said goodbye to the series and the fandom.

And yeah, there really were no ship wars going on back then. Even the hatred of David wasn't really so much about him being with Lestat in any way as much as it was Anne herself trying to replace Louis with David and shoving his character on everyone. He was clearly a favorite character of her's and it was clear she wanted everyone to love him as much as she did.

I was wary when I heard the announcement about the TV show. Mostly because I heard about the original plan of wanting to start the TV adaptation with The Vampire Lestat first, and I knew that was never going to work. I knew it wasn't going to work regarding the Broadway musical back when that had first been announced back in the day, and I was right. So I didn't understand why they were trying that approach again with a TV show.

But then I heard that, after AMC got the rights, they were going to start with IWTV. Good move. And then I heard Jacob Anderson was cast as Louis and I was intrigued, reading about how they were updating the setting to the early 1900s along with that. Making Louis and actual black creole sounded like an inspired choice to me.

Claudia's age being upped to 14 is the one real thing that threw me off, and wasn't sure if it would work. Though visually, when it came to the trailers, it looked really good. So I figured I'd give it a chance, once I was done with Season 1 of House of the Dragon. (Another show I decided to give a chance, even after despising Season 8 of GOT).

But it was around the time of Episode 6 or so of that show when I saw the image/gif of Louis and Lestat floating naked in the air on Twitter with that (now famous) caption "What kind of interview is this?" that had me doing a double take and going, "Wait a minute --!?"

So yeah, I went and watched the first two episodes (which were already out by then, with episode 3 coming up in a few days) that same day. And I was just stunned by how amazing the show was. How bold it was. How hypnotically erotic it was, just like the books and 1994 movie was.

And I straight up recognized how the show was doing actual color-conscious casting when it came to Louis and Claudia's characters . . . that there had been actual thought put into how their race would factor in and enhance the story and arcs of their characters.

And I just knew, in my gut, by the time episode 4 was over that I was going to see The Devil's Minion finally be adapted on screen at some point, something I never thought would ever happen.

I had known about the Prince Lestat trilogy before the show started, but the show actually made me buy the books to read them, something I didn't think I would do since I had left the book series and fandom behind so long ago by the time they were being written and published.

But yes, one thing this show challenges you to do is think. You can't just watch it passively and understand what is going on. Not many shows do that these days. Nor are there going to be things that will be easy to digest, especially as we head into the very deep gothic horror elements of the story.

These characters are all monsters, yes. That is one of the hearts of things in the book, and the show isn't shying away from that. Which, given vampire stories of late, is a bold thing to do and challenge your audience -- who haven't read the books and don't know/understand that fully yet -- with.

So yeah, it's been a long time since I was in fandom, but it wasn't overly huge, even back in the day when fanfic was still being allowed before the crackdown happened. But I'd say it was pretty decently sized. But between many people just not liking what and where the book series was headed along with the fanfic crackdowns (with lawyers being involved and such) I feel like many in the fandom just did like I did back then, which is just leave. Or just stopped actively being deeply involved in things.

And given that, for a very long time, the last book in the series was Blood Canticle, that also might have contributed to the shrinking of the fandom as well.

But yeah, real talk, there were no ship wars like you see in the fandom now, even back in the 90s and early 2000s when I was in it and was still mostly book fandom, with only one movie. People had their favorite pairings, of course, but people were much more low-key about it all and such, even without having a true endgame set in stone about all the ships back then. Hell, I still remember all the primary ship abbreviations people used to use back then for all the most popular ships: LnL = Lestat/Louis, ALes = Armand/Lestat, ALou = Armand/Louis, and of course DM = Devil's Minion = Armand/Daniel.

But, in the end, book fandom just kind of got that once you became a vampire in Rice's world you a.) didn't have human-type sex anymore, because blood drinking became the expression of that b.) you became inherently bisexual/pansexual and c.) you became inherently polyamorous. So there was kinda no point in really fighting about that stuff.

I was watching a YT video breaking down the trailer and the person mentioned that before the show, the online fandom was quite small. Is that true? And if so, what has it been like seeing it explode? The first fandom I ever got into was for a little Australian period detective show and it was so nice. It was very small and there was literally zero drama. I would imagine it would be annoying as hell to be in a nice little “coven” (if you will) enjoying all the many and varied canonical relationships within the series only for the show to open it up to people with zero media literacy screaming their fav ship is the only one true ship and this vampire character is a bad person while this other vampire is baby boi.

Well, to be frank, I wasn't "in" the VC fandom before the show, though I heard that while enduring it wasn't too big.

I had been, kinda, once upon a time. I had been around before Anne's wrath came down. (She literally had fanfictions removed, sites closed down, threatened to sue, etc etc). That was... back then. I used to be in forums, and mailing list before that. I still have fanfiction of 20 years back printed out.

Her coming down hard on the fandom threw me back, so to speak, and also reading the end of "Memnoch the Devil", which, at the time was meant to be the end to it all... broke my heart.

I stepped back from it then, for a while. You know, real life, playing WoW, studying, starting to work^^. Had a daughter :)

The love for it stayed though, I kept all my stuff.

When I heard about the show I wasn't overly impressed by the head shots (lol, I stand corrected, but I mean given Rolin's comments in the podcast at least I'm in good company^^), nor the shifts in the story that were published - because who could anticipated it being THIS?! :))))

And so I tuned in for Jacob Anderson, who I'd loved in GoT. And I was actually sold after the SDCC 2022 trailer. That trailer... hit it.

I cannot describe it.

And yes, from what I saw the fandom then exploded.

The changes to the narrative in the show however split what had already been there and what was coming in up a bit, let's put it that way. For ME this is an ingenious adaptation. They "get" it, imho. They focus on the important bits, and they dare. Just... brilliant.

For some the changes were reason to withdraw though.

It is a bit... annoying to see all the "ship wars" in this content, yes. But I get it, I've spoken about it the other day. I don't think "we" (as in most of the audience) are used to a show like this.

We are not used (anymore) to be challenged as much while watching, we are not used to a show daring to put its fingers into wounds like that. We are not used to a show going full mess wrt relationships.

We are not used to a show that dares, and does so on a level I have seldom seen.

I call this show the "show of the decade" and I stand by that. In quality and approach it is and will be.

But yeah... moralizing these characters... will fail *laughs*

They're all terrible. Killers, murderers.

I currently see none of the drama (if there is any?!), my timeline is utterly peaceful, and I do want it to stay that way. I've had my say on that. That subset can keep it.

I'm here for the brilliant mess that will be the upcoming seasons :)))

[i-want-my-iwtv]

Lestat, why didn't you simply lie about your time before you met Louis? Marius told you not to expose the secrets but he didn't stop you from telling "stories". And you have told plenty.

Hello! Sorry for the delay on this. I used to really love taking asks for Lestat (and I still do!) and I tried, but I can't summon him to answer this topic with a palatable attitude, so you're stuck with me 😅

(FYI this response is for my VC opinions outside of the AMC show, I'm referring to the canon characters or '94 movie)

[^X my edit, not a screencap!]

@codenamecesare's fic the Secret History is one of my absolute faves, in which Lestat told several different stories about where he came from, so Louis in disgust wrote it all off as lies and didn't bother repeating any of it in IWTV! So I highly recommend you check that fic out 💖

Ultimately, I think Lestat loved them too much to lie to them, even for fun, as a "story." In TVL, Lestat says to Armand, "I never lie, at least not to those I don't love." He says it after telling Armand that Les Innocents is going to be destroyed, which I assume was the truth as he knew it. So Lestat claims he doesn't lie to ppl he doesn't love. And I think we can assume he didn't love Armand at that time!

Anyway... I think Lestat knows that telling even a small lie leads to chains of lies, and it would be hard to keep track of the "facts" of these stories... and Lestat might've felt like even in lying, he might accidentally let something slip he didn't want them to know. Even informing them that a vampire's hands can be cut off and reattached later is technically a "truth" that could endanger them by reference to Nicki, even if it didn't name the specific vampire. Another vampire sneaking around could pick it from their minds and use it against them somehow. Or maybe Claudia might try to try it for fun? The possibilities for harm are endless!

(Hit the jump for more, cut for length.)

Plus, the stories could have motivated Louis and Claudia to leave Lestat just as much as the truth might have. Nicki knew most of the truth, Gabrielle knew all of it, and both of them left Lestat 😭

Keeping in mind that even tho Lestat was being a controlling POS*…. he was also right that Louis and Claudia would be obvious targets to any other vampires. (Of course part of what made them such juicy targets was their ignorance, Lestat, but never mind.) So, given that it was a real danger (especially to Claudia) he really might've been unwilling to risk that they'd glean anything from whatever he said, even lies, and just kept completely mum.

*I think part of why Lestat was so controlling towards Louis and Claudia is somewhat in the direction of how we control children for their protection, you'll grab an arm at bruising pressure if it stops them from waving open scissors in another person's face... it can be hard to calibrate the amount of control force to avoid the potential danger, and especially for Lestat, who had suffered so much loss before Louis and Claudia, couldn't bear to lose them, too, so he may have erred on the side of overdoing it 😭

[guywrestlingaddiction]

What turned me gay (not really) - Tarzan Fight Scenes

Continuing my exploration of impressionable "gay" moments, in this chapter I examine my fascination with another major contributor to my sexual journey. Again, this post is inspired by the sidelineland.com blog in the author's tongue and cheek look into "what made me gay (not really)".  The blog holds up well with time and although this author no longer posts on a regular basis, it's still worth checking out today in my opinion.  So without further delay, here is :

What turned me gay (not really) ... 

Tarzan (Mike Henry / Miles o Keeffe)

Tarzan, specifically his fight scenes in film/shows turned me gay.  And while I know this is cliché for me to crush on Tarzan; it is cliché for an obvious reason - Tarzan cemented my gay origin story.  While I had an interest in guys before Tarzan, my obsession with this character truly cemented the idea in me that I was in fact gay.  Life was different back in the 1990's / early 2000's, and admitting to yourself that you were gay was a huge step, essentially the equivalent of potentially cutting off all your friends and family.  Don't get me wrong things were better than earlier periods however, you honestly never knew how some of those difficult conversations would go and I personally found myself dumped by all my high school friends after coming out.

But I digress and to put it simply, Tarzan was proof that girls didn't do it for me as I would go to long and difficult lengths just to catch a few minutes of a muscled, shirtless Tarzan fighting off some villain.  I recall staying up past midnight waiting to record some old Tarzan movie on AMC or kicking myself later when I missed some appearance on TV. 

Tarzan and the Lost City - Mike Henry It was all worth it to stay up until dawn and shift through the entire movie for just a few minutes of Tarzan looking hot and sweaty wrestling with a villain.

Another point I want to clarify is this post doesn't include just Tarzan but all of this "type" meaning a shirtless, muscled, tanned, and most importantly masculine protector in the jungle or otherwise "badlands" battling villains.  In addition to Tarzan, I'd place Deathstalker, Gor, John Carter, the Beast Master, even George of the Jungle, in this genre.  

George of the Jungle - Brandon FrazierIt was a confusing time to be a young boy and attracted to George.  Admitting it was like telling someone you had a thing for a cartoon character.

Tarzan represented a pattern for me; I would get giddy when I saw a show of this type was airing, I would sit through hours of parts that were of no interest to me, just for a few minutes of payoff.  I also need to mention that this guy is most likely the mold for my ideal type of guy today - hyper masculine but compassionate, tanned, tall, and strong enough to fuck someone up.  Lastly, one thing that is hard to acknowledge but I need to for the sake of self-discovery, this "hero" was almost always a white guy and I do wonder what part this plays into my current tastes in guys.  For example, how often am I attracted to a certain guy because he was imprinted on me in my youth as the masculine stallion to idolize? 

Mike Henry as Tarzan Tall, masculine, and Hairy. A young me fantasizing about him gave me no doubt I was gay.

In any case, the sexy, nearly-naked Adonis left a deep mark on my subconscious and has repercussions on me to this very day. Watching a strong, masculine guy fight off the bad guy will forever be a small part of my origin story on what made me gay.  

Selected Appearances [Not all shown]

Now the biggest question ... who is the hottest Tarzan?  Without a doubt Mike Henry is the hottest Tarzan to me.  Feel free to disagree but again this is just an opinion. 

Hottest (Mike Henry)

Tarzan and the Valley of Gold - Mike Henry  Hairy, Tall, shows lots of leg and plenty of fight scenes

Runners Up

Tarzan in Manhattan and a Television series - Joe Lara 

Tarzan the Ape Man - Miles o Keeffe

Tarzan, the Ape Man - Denny Miller Hot, but too bad Tarzan was hairless back then

The Legend of Tarzan - Alexander Skarsgard I did try to like this movie, but one of the most appealing things about Tarzan is his legs and we don't see a lot with him 

Tarzan and the Lost City - Casper Van Dien  I also tried to like this iteration (after seeing him in Starship Troopers) but there was just something I couldn't enjoy about it.

Similar movies 

George of the Jungle - Brandon Frazier

Gor - Urbano Barberini

John Carter - Taylor Kitsch

Deathstalker II - John Terlesky

-

For the original post, check out:

[altsvu]

left in the dark

pairing: jj x kate callahan x bau!fem!reader, aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

summary: you find out you’re pregnant with Hotch’s baby (in the most unexpected way) and you go to JJ and Kate about it since they’re also pregnant, but their only advice is to tell Hotch about it.

tw: pregnancy, fluff, mentions of blood/injury, breeding kink??

a/n: at first this was super hard for me to write, mostly because this is different than what i’m used to, but i think it turned out okay! enjoy my lovelies!!

criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“JJ! When were you gonna tell me?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to wait till things played out.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m super happy for you regardless.”

“Thank you.” JJ smiled, pulling you into a hug. “So, how are things going with you and Hotch?”

You bit your lip. Hotch was the sweetest to you. He took you to romantic dates on off days and you always checked up on each via text messages and FaceTime when one of you were away.

Not to mention that your sex life was immaculate.

“Things are going pretty well, to be honest. We’re actually going to rent out the AMC movie theater in Arlington this weekend and watch our favorite throwback movies.”

“Oh, that sounds super romantic, I’m actually super glad that you two finally decided to get together after he was pining for you for years.”

You snorted. “We were both pining for each other. For a very very long time.”

“Yeah, the team had their suspicions.” JJ agreed. “You ready to head to the jet?”

You nodded and followed JJ out to the tarmac.

✯✯✯✯

You and Hotch had to go check out the crime scene, and it was a gruesome one. A family of 5 were bludgeoned in their home late at night, and the wife... well she had multiple knife cuts on her abdomen.

Out of nowhere, you felt sick to your stomach. This was unusual, especially for you since you got used to seeing many different types of crime scenes. You tried your hardest to breathe calmly but you felt yourself about to throw up.

“... he hurts them before finally killing them. Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just probably ate something bad-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence when you found yourself running outside and throwing up. You wiped your mouth and took deep breaths, trying to process what just happened.

“Sweetheart?” Hotch whispered. You turned around and he held you by your arms. “What’s going on? This is very unlike you.”

“I- I don’t know what’s going on.” you replied. “This never happens.”

He pulled you into a hug. “Do you want me to take you back to the field office?” He murmured into your hair.

“No, you don’t have to. I’ll be okay.”

You caught Hotch still staring you down with a concerned look on his face.

“Damn it Aaron. Don’t worry about me. I don’t want to be the reason we don’t find this unsub in a timely manner.”

“Okay, you’re right. But can you please let me know if you don’t feel well?”

“Yes sir.” You smiled, pressing a kiss on his cheek and walking back to the crime scene.

✯✯✯✯

When you got back to the field office, Hotch had to talk to the field agent on the case in his office, and you had to go to the conference room to look over some case files.

Hunger then struck over you, so you headed to the vending machine you noticed earlier to find a snack to hold you over until lunch. The options that were there weren’t appealing to you, so it looked like you weren’t gonna be eating for about a few more hours. To your luck, Kate and JJ were in the conference room when you got back.

“Girls, I swear I’m gonna die if I don’t have anything in my system.”

“You want some saltines? It’s all I have.” JJ asked.

“Oh yes, please.” You nodded. JJ handed you a fresh pack.

You were so indulged in them that you almost finished the pack. JJ and Kate caught on

extremely fast.

“Are you pregnant too?” Spencer asked, walking in.

“What? What makes you think I’m pregnant?”

Kate sat next to you. “Well, for starters, you’re eating saltines.”

“Because I didn’t want anything at the vending machine.”

“There’s a pattern here. Kate ate saltines, I caught JJ eating saltines, and now you’re eating them.”

You sighed, putting the rest of the pack down. “Look, pretty boy, I think I would know if I were pregnant.”

“If you say so,” Reid answered with a smile on his face.

The rest of the team came in, and all thoughts of you being pregnant dissipated.

✯✯✯✯

Over the next few days, you had some of the same symptoms and you started to wonder if you were actually pregnant. You wanted to buy a test but it would be hard to do so when your job came first.

Soon enough, the case was closed and you were heading back home. Everyone on the jet was asleep except you and Hotch.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How you feeling?”

“Like eating a 5 course meal and throwing it back up.” you moaned, curling up closer to him for comfort.

“I’ll take you home and cook you a nice meal, okay?”

You nodded, mumbling “I love you” and he kissed your lips in response.

Finally getting home, Hotch did as he promised and you spent the night cuddling and comforting each other.

The next morning you felt yourself throwing up again so you decided it was time to get a pregnancy test. Hotch had already left to go back to Quantico to do some paperwork but the rest of the team was off. You dragged yourself to a nearby store to get a test and took it immediately.

Two lines.

How would Hotch react?

He always talked about having kids, in fact he almost got turned on at the thought of you with a baby bump. But the only thing was that he wanted things to be planned out.

You figured he was pretty busy at the moment so you called JJ and Kate and asked to come over to one of their homes. Ultimately, JJ invited you and Kate over.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kate asked when you arrived.

“I’m pregnant.” You whispered. Both of the women hugged you and congratulated you. They then sat you down at JJ’s dining room table.

“Does Hotch know?”

You bit your lip. “That’s the thing. He doesn’t really know yet. I don’t really know what to do.”

“Well I think the best thing to do is tell him. There’s no way that he would get mad. He loves you too much.” JJ suggested.

You nodded in agreement.

“Also, he’s gonna find out soon enough, so it would be better to just let him know so he expects it,” Kate added.

“You ladies are so right. I’ll let you know how things go!”

✯✯✯✯

When you got back home, Hotch was at the couch watching a show, but it looked more like he was about to fall asleep.

“Hi baby,” you murmured against his skin after ridding yourself of your outerwear and shoes.

“Y/N...” he whispered. He sat up and held you by your waist. “I missed you when I came in.”

“Yeah, I just went over JJ’s for a bit.”

Hotch nodded. There was a bit of silence between you two.

“You look like there’s something bothering you.” he then said.

You shut your eyes, trying to think of the right way to tell him. “Aaron, I’m pregnant.” you said so very quietly.

His eyes widened in excitement. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, I’m ecstatic! This is amazing!”

You smiled and laughed in joy with him as one of his hands sneaked under your shirt and rubbed your belly. He was now sitting upright with you on his lap.

“God, I don’t think you know how long I’ve thought about this.” Hotch hummed, kissing your bare skin. “All those times filling you up with my seed in the bedroom paid off big time. I can’t wait to see your belly grow and grow.”

You leaned down and kissed his lips. “Mmm, I can’t wait either.”

✯✯✯✯

It was just a matter of time before the rest of the team found out. You did not hear the end of it from Spencer when he figured that he was right the whole time.

Hotch, on the other hand, didn’t waste any time serenading and whispering sweet nothings about how you looked so beautiful with your ever growing baby bump to you every day after work, even sometimes during work too. He’d always say that he was just super excited that you were pregnant with his baby every time you asked.

Your pregnancy was so special to the team that Kate and JJ threw a surprise baby shower, in which everyone found out you and Hotch were having a little girl.

In a few short months, your due date was inching closer and closer, and Hotch was there by your side through everything, from when your water broke in the briefing room to when you were being rushed to a hospital room to have the baby delivered.

And finally.

You welcomed a baby girl into the world.

“She’s so beautiful. Just like you.” Hotch smiled and kissed your lips after you were able to hold your baby again.

You nodded in agreement, tears escaping your eyes. You thought about what your life was going to be like now, since you had a precious little one to take care of.

During your maternity leave, each member of the team came to visit you at home, some bearing small gifts for your baby.

“Hey,” Hotch came up to you one night after putting your baby to bed. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed the skin behind it. “Can I tell you something?”

“Mhmm, anything.”

“I’m really glad that we have a baby to take care of. I’ve wanted this for such a long time, and having it with you just makes it even better.”

You smiled in response. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. I love you so much, Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @virgo-gf @mstrinnyb @mrshadeelgibson @ssahotchswifemain @anxiousblanketqueen @hotchsbabygirl @willowrose99 @ssa-sarahsunshine @deiondraaa