#and then we talked about some other stuff and we talked about New Orleans

[spacephrasing]

OH I forgot, I have a bigger update for y’all on the person

[fraugwinska]

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

[kandelia-mangrove]

Wishlist/Predictions for season 3 of interview with the vampire (add your wishes in the tags!) 

Lestat's perspective on the trial 

So much is different in the show and the motives for everyone involved in the trial are still SO unclear, I need more!

Lestat's version of what went down in Paris with Nicky and the start of the Theatre de Vampire (like I do think he and Armand fucked, but also way more stuff also happened for sure)

It would be really funny to get some Armand interjections in this portion of the tale

Lestat being haunted by Claudia's ghost in the present!! Also the Past!! He can never know peace!

Daniel and Lestat beefing

Lestat getting canceled (or truly any other social media reference) 

Louis Cameo in the present day (curious to see how they are going to keep him involved since I doubt they will spend a ton of time rehashing their relationship in New Orleans) 

I really need them to have very intense getting back together but also still kinda divorced energy

I’ll also accept cutaways from Lestat doing insane shit to Louis just chilling in Dubai, like reading a book or smth

But also I feel like Louis definitely funded the tour like no way Lestat was up to date on his finances, so Louis popping in as a producer/manager could be fun and cool too

Everyones reactions to the reveal that Marius is alive 

Like I NEED to see Armand fucking finding out Marius is alive because he is crashing set that day and has a catastrophic meltdown about the whole situation

Because the show implied he doesn’t know about it, with the whole “I have the blood of Akasha in me, he doesn’t know who that is” line. 

Also Need Daniel reacting to this information 

Also really want Louis’ reaction, because I genuinely think even during his Hating Armand Hours TM he would still hate Marius for what he did to him

Also, very unlikely, but I think should be explored: the Marius golden child Lestat racism/imperialism dynamics of it all especially with the AMC cast. Like… We gotta talk about it. 

Explicitly GNC, Nonbinary, or otherwise Trans Gabrielle

On that note, very intrigued to see if they will leave in all the incesty bits or just lean into the abandonment vibes 

Daniel has to clown on Lestat for this if they leave it in

Confirmation or Denial of 70s/80s devil’s minion (I just need to know if it happened or not!!)

Also if it did happen: I want some flashes to that era - setting up the night island of it all (just since I think that could be relevant going forward)

I think it makes sense plot and show production wise to have a little reference confirming it did or didn’t happen, but I doubt we’d see any of it if it did happen tbh. 

Great Conversion stuff just happening in the background 

Daniel Vampire phones Louis, and Louis the least curious vampire to ever exist genuinely tells him to just ignore it. Like that bitch is NOT going to help solve any mystery

Lestat telling the story of him fighting and killing a bunch of wolves as a human and Daniel just not believing him (because its genuinely wild)

Loumand Divorce Era

Lestat actually exploring the trauma of his turning (sexual assault)

Vampire Daniel being a vampire and doing vampire things!! 

The in universe reception to the book Interview with the vampire by Daniel Molloy 

Like do people believe it’s real? How has the impacted the great conversion stuff? 

Do other vamps know he is a vampire?? 

Do people think the popstar thing is an elaborate RPF/industry plant thing related to the book? 

I Gotta see some fake tweets about this please

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Ziehen

Chapter Thirty One

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Zachariah, Crowley, Dick, Bobby, Sam and Benny

Word Count: 2053, with other media

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, talk of extra-curricular activities coming up, a thirst trap because Jensen has been unfair lately, Benny being a teddy bear, and Bela trying to make amends

Series Masterlist

“And between record store day and Phantom Traveler’s release, Q2 is looking to break records for us,” Zachariah droned on.

“Well, it’s the least they could do,” Dick added glibly.

You couldn’t roll your eyes, you were on camera, but you wanted to. Crowley didn’t reply, but Zachariah chuckled and took a beat to agree before going on down the line of his report. Bobby huffed, but kept a lid on it, which told you how much he knew Dick was right.

“Things are shaping up well with pre-orders and the appearances Bobby and company have lined up between Vegas and New Orleans with the album release.  should outshine their previous album sales by a wide margin,” Crowley tacks on, almost bored with the success.

You set that up, not Bobby, but you kept your mouth shut, nodding.

“Y’all can thank Y/N for that, you know,” Bobby said gruffly.

“Of course,” Dick agreed offhandedly, eyes darting down to other parts of his screen.

Thank God for Bobby. You simply smiled and kept listening.

“Sounds great, people! Let’s check back the week of the release to ensure we’re still on track. We’ve got a lot of numbers to move to get in the black here, but I see good things happening,” Dick smarmed and instantly sent a meeting invite for the following month. 

“Thank you!” you replied dutifully and closed the window for the chat. After accepting the invite and adding it to your personal calendar, you exhaled long and hard. You checked your phone, Bela had called again and left another two text messages. You ignored her. She could wait.

You called Bobby for a mix of mutual griping and to debrief about where that put you all going forward. 

Without even a greeting, Bobby started, “I swear they get dumber every quarter.”

“Tell me about it. Thanks for having my back in there, though, I was starting to see red by the end.”

“You and me both, darlin’.” Bobby huffed. “The amount of stuff you get done is amazing. Even without all the run-around from the last tour, you are doing more than anybody I’ve seen in your position. We appreciate ya, even if the suits can’t see past their nose jobs.”

You beamed.

“Thanks. So, what’s on the agenda for the week? I know Dean and Sam took Gibson and Pamela to the zoo.”

“Yeap. Got the Midway Museum tomorrow if you have time, got tickets for anybody who wants to go. Might be good time for pictures if you need some candids for the socials.”

You knew this was his way of telling you to come, he even gave you justification for doing it on so called work hours.

“Maybe. I might just steal some from the band. Too much to get done before the show on Thursday.”

“Well, you’re welcome to join us if you get caught up or not.”

“Thanks.” It felt like all you could say to him today. It was a small word with a lot of connotations, but you were grateful. You owed Bobby so much. Though he never gave anything he didn’t want to give or for any form of repayment. He was too good for this industry. They all were.

“I’ll keep you posted. I have calls with the next couple of venue coordinators today and then some event security stuff tomorrow morning with Benny for some non-venue signings and stuff.”

“You still want to do the battered women's shelter thing?”

“The domestic violence survivors fundraiser in Vegas? Absolutely.”

Bobby hummed.

“I know what you’re thinking, Bobby. And that’s exactly why we’re doing it.”

“Do you think it looks like pandering?”

“I think it looks like community service. And if I didn’t think Dean could handle it, I wouldn’t have signed him up for it.”

“Even after that little disappearing act on Saturday?”

“Dean is a domestic abuse survivor, Bobby. Part of what he’s gone through is accepting that.”

“Yeah, but Cas—.”

“Cas is still family. And he didn’t press charges. And you know Dean—- penance is something he needs to do for himself, too.”

Bobby sighed. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Trust me, this is still my good side.”

Bobby actually chuckled at that. “I bet! Okay, I should get going, promised the missus we’d hit the shops before dinner.”

“Have a good one.”

“Alrighty, bye then.”

You smiled at your desk as Bobby hung up. He was happy and Annie was good for him. It didn’t matter their pasts, they made it work, and made each other better along the way.

Which seemed utterly remarkable and unattainable for somebody like you.

But if anybody deserved it, it was them.

You put down your phone and pulled up Twitter, it was time to dig through the chaos and do what you did best: highlight the good, the band's synergy and the new momentum and bury the bad. 

Which seemed to include you this time around, unfortunately.

After Twitter, you tackled Insta, Reddit and even FB, though most people cross posted the same images and anecdotes, some people only used one of the bunch. And some only used them on pain of death, namely Dean. Meanwhile, Bela had posted a couple of great shots from the afterparties, which you liked as the band and as yourself. 

You were crabby, not petty.

And busy, damnit.

The next morning, Sam smirked at you when he caught your eye in the hotel’s gym. He was already sweating from running outside, but must have come back to stretch or work something more intensely. What you weren’t expecting was Dean to be hot on his heels, equally as sweaty, equally as mischievous.

“Trouble! How’s business?” 

You rolled your eyes and took out an earbud, not sure you really heard them.

“What’s up?”

“We’re gonna lift— you want in?” Sam was teasing you now.

You pedaled stiffly and shook your head. “Fuck no, I’m good here, got another ten mile circuit after this breather.”

“Suit yourself,” Dean taunted and grinned before he crossed his legs and touched his toes. What the hell? Luckily there was only one other guest using the elliptical, so they weren’t being complete nuisances, yet.

They weren’t even directly in your line of sight, otherwise it could have gotten awkward, and distracting.

Still, you felt them keep glancing at you, making faces, and even cheering for you when you shifted up with your ass out of the seat to get the best angle for the various hills. You flipped them off, but kept your eyes forward and your earbuds in place.

Thirty minutes later, you groaned and stepped off the stationary bike. Dean and Sam had been talking more than doing curls with the free weights, obviously being dorks about each other’s efforts.

Boys.

“Good workout?” Dean asked as you sanitized your equipment. Sweat clung to your oversized tank top, all down your back, and between your legs. Thank god you wore your black workout leggings today.

“Yeah? You?” You smirked as Dean made a show of extending his movements slowly and pointedly. Yes, Dean, your arms should be illegal, you thought.

“Good, uh— need help stretching?”

You looked at him a little dumbfounded and then back at Sam, who seemed just as surprised as you were by the offer.

“Nah, I’ve got my bands and stuff in my room. Though, I bet Sam would love to see you try and bullshit your way through a cool down routine,” you tacked on, trying to laugh off the offer. Inside you were imagining Dean’s weight against you, pushing your knees up and out, flexing your hip joints with his thick fingers digging into the meat of you…

“Hey! I was just being nice.”

“Dude,” Sam muttered.

You sighed and gave Dean an apologetic smile. “Maybe another time.”

You pretended not to hear the series of slaps that happened behind your back as you made your way to the elevator and your generic hotel shower.

Benny treated you to lunch after your video calls with the S.A.F.E. House staff and the one with the folks at the radio station who’d be interviewing the band the morning of the first Vegas show. 

“Saw your tweet on Cas’ post,” you added thoughtfully, midway through your shrimp po boys.

“Yeah, well, didn’t want him thinking he done wrong by us.”

You chewed and nodded, silently telling him that you got it, appreciated it even. 

“You hear anything else from the guys about the last show, you know, after Dean disappeared and, um, everything?”

You needed to know if the guards were loyal, but mostly you wanted to know what they had seen.

“Seemed pretty anticlimactic to most of them, from what I hear. Dean came through, sober and clean as a whistle. —Even the venue goons didn’t clock anything weird,” Benny pointed out before taking another bite, his teeth flashing in the afternoon sun.

After a few moments, Benny continued. “But, uh, that label stooge you got following Bela? He’s the one to worry about, really, seems to keep his cards close to the vest.”

Damn, you knew he was right before he even finished the sentence. Tiny would be the one to squeal to Crowley, or worse, Dick, at the end of the day. You wondered if you could buy him off or treat him in other ways while on the road. Bela wasn’t scheduled to be around until the second Vegas show, you had some time to figure out his motives. Or if he even cared at all.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

Benny sniffed and looked around the small patio outside the restaurant. “Bela’s not really Dean’s girl is she? She some kind of clout pusher?”

You swallowed and took a long slurp of your iced tea, washing away the now muted flavor of your lunch. “I honestly don’t know anymore, Benny. They’ve definitely been enjoying each other’s company more than I expected.”

“Perhaps—- but don’t you worry none. She’s not the type you settled down with and he’s got eyes deeper than the cut of her fancy tops.”

You huffed. Benny certainly had a way with words.

“It’s okay, Benny— I’m not in a place to be jealous.”

He just raised his eyebrows at you and took another bite.

“I did this— I set them up. I’d guess you’d call it reaping what I sow or something?”

Benny nodded and shrugged. “Or something.”

“You won’t— you won’t tell anybody, right? His story is safe with you?”

“Doll, I’ve been covering that boy’s ass since before Lisa— I’m true.”

“I know, Benny, sorry—- it’s just so much posturing all the time. I just want to take pictures and show the world how badass they are. I want people to hear the stories behind the songs, because it shows they’re human too. Sometimes I wish—-”

“Wishin’ for rain in the desert aint doin’ anybody a lick of good. You know the score, you just gotta beat them at their own game. Dean’s a good man, he knows what’s real. Don’t think we all don’t know that, too.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Know who your people are, if you trust Bela— then she won’t let Tiny think anything is up. Friends have each other’s back against the world, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, suddenly feeling ridiculously immature for ignoring her for the past few days.

“Eat up, cher. It’s a long tour. You’ll need your strength.”

That was an understatement, but you dug in anyway.

“Y/N, listen— I’ve resorted to leaving you a voicemail. It’s come to that. I’m sorry. I am. I didn’t mean anything disparaging about you the other night— just maybe about how you treat Dean. Not that it's bad, overkill more like, but it’s not like you’re bad or weak for doing it.--- I know how much you loved her, Y/N, I know. Him too, it seems. I just don’t want you wasting so much of your life trying to make up for losing her. It hurts to see you so— subservient. You are so much more than an errand girl. So I’m sorry for my lack of tact. But I’m not sorry I brought it up. Okay? There. Call me back and yell at me properly already, Jesus.”

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 32: Tronco

[anim-ttrpgs]

An absolutely incredible review of the beta version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy by review Willy Muffin on youtube, complete with visuals and actual analysis!

I'm going to also add to this post a comment that I left on the video, offering further insight into the design intentions of the game, though the comment might not make as much sense if you haven't watched the video yet.

Hey, lead writer of Eureka here, first of all I wanna say how good and professional this review is, it’s almost indescribable how it feels to see our project taken so seriously and given real analysis, complete with visuals and everything! We would be super impressed and happy with it even if you didn’t like the game—but luckily it sounds like you loved it hahaha

I’d also like to address a few things throughout the video, not as arguments or rebuttals, just further developer insight for everyone

Re: “Urban Fantasy.” “Urban Fantasy” is basically just another term for “modern fantasy”, just a fantasy story that takes place in the 20th or 21st century and deals with the intersection of contemporary life with the supernatural, and it might be an Americanism, or even a Southern-ism, since it has a lot of connections and origins in the living folklore of New Orleans, so I shouldn’t be surprised it isn’t a term everyone is familiar with. Just think of it as the kind of genre where instead of the vampire living in a secluded scary castle, his name is Phil and he’s your roommate haha. What We Do in the Shadows, Shadowrun, and the World of Darkness games are all some other good examples of “urban fantasy.”

Re: Scooby-Doo. Oh we would LOVE for you to run a Scooby-Doo-like wacky mystery with Eureka. Even though the main tone is dark and gritty and noir, we did intentionally build it so that it could run more lighthearted stuff as well! There’s even a few Scooby-Doo references to be found throughout the text, and if we hit a certain stretch goal on the Kickstarter, we’re going to be adding a bunch of Scooby-gang-inspired traits, including the option to play a Talking Dog!

Re: Combat being the largest section, even larger than Investigation. First of all, that’s kind of an illusion that is the result of the game being unfinished. I have a tendency when I write rules to use really long sentences, overexplain things, repeat myself, etc, and that dramatically bloats the rules text and page count, but that’s why we have an editor! She goes through after the fact and trims most of the fat off my bloated writing style to make it flow smoother and read faster, and take up less space. The PDF that was read for this review has had the Investigation chapter copy-edited (and cut down in size by about 25%!), but the editor hasn’t gotten to the combat chapters yet, so they still have a hugely inflated page count. When she’s done with them, you can expect each combat chapter to also be cut down in size by about 25%, so they won’t be nearly so large a chunk of the book.

Secondly, I’ll explain our reasoning for why the combat chapters and advanced combat rules are such a big chunk of the rules text, it’s intentional design which I will now explain. If anyone still doesn’t agree with that design, that’s fair, and that’s why we made the Basic Combat Rules an option.

The reason that the advanced combat rules are the default, and the reason they exist at all, is because it incentivizes and rewards Investigation. If combat is super deadly, it makes Investigation, snooping, and spying more appealing than kicking down the door and getting your head blown off. But of combat is super deadly, it also needs to be very deep and tactical, because if it’s deadly but shallow, then there’s no player agency. “Combat starts, roll some dice, okay your guy is dead.” That’s no fun. So by adding rules and modifiers for cover/elevation, distance, the difference between a pistol and an assault rifle, etc. we make it so that not only is combat its own high-stakes puzzle, but make it so that when the PCs HAVE to engage in combat, all their investigation can really pay off and save their lives. Spying on a building to find out the number of goons stationed there and how they are armed helps you plan and assess risk, stealing the blueprints to the building helps you know how to get the drop on the goons, and know the best places to attack from so that they are stuck out in the open and you are not, etc. and having rules for those things means that all the PCs’ snooping and planning makes a real mechanical difference in whether they live or die.

That’s just my opinion though, and one of the biggest reasons WHY we decided to write the combat with as much depth as we did.

Anyway, thank you again for this review and analysis of our project, our Kickstarter jumped up by about ten more backers in the evening when this video went up after several days of no new backers, and we have to assume we have this video, and all of you watching and reading this, to thank. You’re really making our dreams come true. :)

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is kickstarting from right now until May 10th! Back it while you still can!

If you want to try before you buy, you can download a free demo of the prerelease version from our website or our itch.io page!

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

You can also support us on Ko-fi, or by checking out our merchandise!

Join our TTRPG Book Club At the time of writng this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is the current game being played in the book club, and anyone who wants to participate in discussion, but can’t afford to make a contribution, will be given the most updated prerelease version for free! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[spaceorphan18]

The Rogue and Gambit Project: Previously On X-Men... Gambit

It's time to talk about Gambit! The nice thing about Gambit is that he was, at the time, a relatively new character, having only been around in the comics for about a year. Which means there is way less to cover! Boy, are we going to have to deal with some questionable art, though.

The Basics:

Name: Remy Etienne* LeBeau

*Okay, so, this is the funny thing about the name Etienne. Apparently, it started out as fanlore, and - as so many things that happen in fandom - gained popularity as fanon from a particularly well known piece of fanfiction from way back when. I believe it's actually been used in canon at this point. It is on Marvel.com - which is the official site. I'll keep a look out for it to show up.

Also, in case you didn't know (and I'm sure you did), Le Beau is French for The Beautiful.

Backstory: Just like Rogue, Gambit's backstory is shrouded in mystery. He's a thief. He's from New Orleans. He's Cajun. That's all your getting for now. Don't worry, we'll peel back the layers. ;)

Power Set (via uncannyxmen.net):  interkinetic power allows him to produce bio-kinetic energy within his body and use it to convert any inorganic object's potential energy into kinetic energy on contact, making the object highly volatile and explosive on contact, internal energy also grants him heightened agility and creates static interference that shields his mind from detection

I should also give the obligatory comment of - these powers are toned down from his full abilities because of /reasons/ which we'll get to eventually. He had Mr. Sinister give him a lobotomy and, we've all been suffering the consequences sense.

Alright, let's dig into Gambit's pre-Rogue run...

Uncanny X-Men 266-267

Uncanny X-Men #266

I have to start by appreciating the fact that Gambit is a thief who wears bright pink and metal boots. It's a bold look.

Anyway, the funny thing about Gambit is that the character he turned out to be ended up being a lot different from creator Chris Claremont's initial ideas. Apparently, he was supposed to be, ultimately, a villain and, while he was supposed to be a love interest for one of our characters, it wasn't Rogue, it was... Kitty Pryde. He was also supposed to be a Mr. Sinister creation and a third summers brother. Yeah, I'm kind of glad Claremont left before any of this stuff really came to fruition.

Also, I once read that Claremont claim that original artist Mike Collins made Gambit too pretty. Which is funny, because ngl, I really am not a fan of the look in his debut, and it will be a while before he really earns his name.

Uncanny X-Men #266

I also want to note that Gambit's powers were a little different back then. He didn't have playing cards yet, and instead used metal spikes as throwing devices. The powers were designated in green. And were charged from his eyes. Also, interesting to note - his eyes aren't red on black yet, either.

There's also 'hypnotic charm' thing that was kinda used in the early appearances. He does use it in his first appearance to tame some of the Shadow King's Hounds.

Uncanny X-Men #266

He's gonna be calling her 'Stormy' for years. She's gonna love it. ;) (Btw - he calls her Stormy 4 times in this issue alone.)

Okay, so... Gambit shows up, crossing paths with Storm at a mansion of some rich person. Storm is de-aged (for... reasons) and is running from the Shadow King and his minions. He's busy stealing art from the rich dude (who apparently is not home and has no security, lol).

And thus, one of my favorite comic book friendships is born. And really, this first appearance is a lot of fun as Gambit and Storm play off each other's strengths to get away from the Shadow King.

Uncanny X-Men 267

Jim Lee is going to add some of Gambit's more iconic features -- such as throwing playing cards (Gambit's Ace of Spades shows up in this next issue) and using some kind of staff (hilariously, it's a broom in this issue).

Storm and Gambit's adventures continue. He takes her to New Orleans for a while so she can recover from the Shadow King. They go thieving -- playing Robin Hood -- stealing from rich people because they can. And then the Orphan Maker comes along, who makes Storm a teenager? (Idk - the whole thing is weird - she'll become her real age again in the next story arc.)

Uncanny X-Men #267

And then Storm is like, hey, I have a crazy idea....

Uncanny X-Men Annual #14

Fun fact: Because of release dates and such, Uncanny X-Men #266 wasn't the first comic released to have Gambit in it. The Annual technically came out first, though it clearly takes place after Uncanny 266-267. But this is the first time we see Gambit among the X-Men team. Not that he does anything remotely interesting during this whole thing. He doesn't even speak, kind of hides awkwardly in the background.

X-Tinction Agenda (Uncanny X-Men #270-272; X-Factor & New Mutants)

Uncanny X-Men #270

Welcome to the X-Men, Gambit! Hope you survive the experience!

He's in the credit roll now, must be official. ;)

Gambit joins the team just as the mega X-tinction Agenda crossover starts. (Uncanny X-Men joins New Mutants and X-Factor for this one) And, I'll be honest, this isn't one of my favorite crossovers. The whole thing revolves around the nation of Genosha, how they're using mutants for slaves, and how all the teams come together to change the status quo. And of course, mutants get capture and tortured and a few killed. Fwiw X-Men: The Animated Series did do this storyline.

Uncanny X-Men #270

Gambit and Cable don't (won't) get to cross paths very often, so I found this an interesting panel. Anyway... Gambit really has very little to do during this crossover. When Storm gets captured, he is really concerned for her (as he considers her his partner at the moment) but he's not really vibe-ing the whole team dynamic yet.

Uncanny X-Men #272

This is arguably the coolest thing Gambit's done as of yet. Dude pulls a spike out of his leg to use as a lockpick and gets himself rescued. I'm glad they give him this, because, again, for the most part he's just kinda hanging around in the background not doing much.

I will say - he and Jubilee get to cross paths, which is going to be a source of fun in the next arc.

Space Shenanigans (Uncanny X-Men 273-277)

Uncanny X-Men 273

Some of my favorite issues are when the team is regrouping. Post- X-Tinction Agenda, it's clear that things in the X-Office were changing. Claremont is at this point sort of being pushed out, while Jim Lee and Co are becoming more the driving force behind the books. On panel, the teams are kind of merging. X-Factor's first era is drawing to a close, and the X-Men are resolidifying after being in flux for so long.

We're about to get a Space Soap Opera, as Claremont so dearly loves, but this issue is a bit of a breather between the arcs. And we get this bit of tension between Storm and Gambit - where Gambit is ready to move on, but Storm is back on solid footing again. They don't explicitly state why Gambit sticks around, but he definitely does...

Uncanny X-Men 273

I swear, this is Chris Claremont's favorite joke. He's used it before this moment, and he'll do it again. It's impactful the first time, but it does get old the more Claremont does it. However, we get the first highlight of the dynamic between Gambit and Wolverine -- which will be antagonistic for a while, but is fascinating.

Uncanny X-Men #274

Doesn't Gambit look sexy in his yellow team uniform?? ;)

Btw - as I mentioned earlier, this is the first issue Gambit and Rogue appear in together. Though they be miles and miles and miles apart.

Uncanny X-Men #275

The whole crux of this arc, that I've been kind of ignoring, involves Xavier being brainwashed in space (or something) and of course the X-Men get involved in space politics (again). Honestly, space stories are Claremont's favorite trope, so it doesn't surprise me that the end of his run are filled with a couple of them.

Anyway -- if there's one person impervious to Gambit's charms - it's Jubilee. They get to hang out a lot during this arc, and it's really delightful since they team up to kind of figure out what is going on with Xavier acting weird and all the odd space kool-aide people are drinking.

Uncanny X-Men #277

I actually really like this cover. Gambit's got a sword and a spear! Plus, he looks like his 90s cool self now. The blue and yellow uniform doesn't suit him AT. ALL. But we don't have to deal with it too much longer...

Uncanny X-Men #277

See... I told you Claremont was gonna do this again, lol.

Uncanny X-Men #277

The nice thing about this whole space arc is that Gambit really gets to come into his own. He now looks cool (note the red eyes are here!). He's doing fun stuff. He's taking on Wolverine and holding his own. He's being smart and tactical and an asset. They've paired him with some great X-Men to start off with, and it's paying off.

Meanwhile, we don't really know much about him. As many of the other characters state, his background is shrouded in mystery... (whether you like what it actually is can be debated as we get to it). But for now, he's intriguing as a new comer.

And this is where we're at as two story lines come crashing together and our two romantic leads get to meet for the first time.... off panel.

But I'll get more into that next time when I discuss... The Muir Island Saga!

[darleneh]

Alastor x F!reader pt.1

Word count is unknown I don’t feel like putting it in the word counter website.

I’m Watching

TW: Suicide, mentions of sex but no smut.

Summary; You tell your friend about some ‘man’ who creeps up on you at night!

“He only comes out at night.” You told your friend. You were telling your friend about how some creepy ‘boogeyman’ comes out at night and just.. talks to you. That’s all he ever did, talk to you then he’d put you to bed. He was careful with his touches, you told your friend everything and she was just shocked to hear it. “Does he.. ever do anything you don’t like?” She asked you, worrying about if the creepy man ever did stuff without your permission. “Well, watching me when I’m asleep is one thing I don’t like. He doesn’t like, touch me horribly or anything. More of him touching my shoulder, my face, or my arms. That’s all.” You explained, blushing to yourself at the thought of him touching you in other ways than just friendly ways.

“Good.. but shit, if I had a creepy man in my house watching me at night shits gonna go down.” She giggled, which made you giggle. “He’s cute, like his voice and such. He’s just attractive in general. Maybe you could stay the night and you can meet him.” You winked, punching your friends arm lightly as she kept on giggling. “No. I don’t wanna interrupt it.” She sighed, recovering from laughing. “Eh, we don’t do anything. He just calls me a ‘friend’. Y’know, he calls me darling a lot. It’s cute.” You swirled the cup in your hands, then drinking out of it.

“Darling? Is he British?” She started full on laughing, kicking her feet in the air as she laid back laughing. “No, he just has a radio voice. He told me his name was Alastor and that he died like a hundred years ago. Oh! We should go see if there are any records about him online.” You say, jumping up from your seat and grabbing your laptop. Sitting back down, the two of you huddled around the laptop and searched. “Alastor radio host 1900’s” is what you searched up on google. The first thing that popped up was, “Newspapers about Murderers in the 1900’s.” So, you clicked on it and went searching for his name.

Finally finding something, the headlines said, “Murderer in New Orleans found dead while burying a body.” The both of you read the newspaper article and it showed a picture of him when he was alive. Black and white. “Jesus Christ, he’s fucking hot.” Your friend blurted out, drooling at the picture of the murderer. “We’re both sickos if we’re finding a murderer cute.” You giggled, your friend also giggling. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s dead.” She shrugged, scrolling down to read more about the man. “Alastor Hartfelt.” You read outloud, looking at the picture of him more.

“Maybe I could talk to him about this if he comes around tonight.” You said, turning off your laptop. “Do it, and tell me ALL about it.” Your friend turned to look at you, smiling wide. “But, I’m gonna go home now. Alright?” She got up, and you waved her off. “See ya.” You say, going on your phone. After awhile of mindlessly scrolling you got up and got ready for bed. Taking your melatonin which never worked, you laid down.

After a few minutes with your eyes closed and waiting for the static to come along, you heard it as always. You instantly opened your eyes and shot up, looking around the room for your demon crush. He came along, shadows lurking in the corner then morphing together to form the man you had a crush on for quite some time. “What’s up, Alastor the murderer?” You giggled at your choice of words, locking eyes with the man standing in the corner of your room.

“Weird choice of words.” He says, walking to the bed and sitting on the edge, looking at you. “Weird, sure. But I know who you are.” You brought your chin to your hands, cupping your face. You were slouched. “Do you? What do you know?” He asked you, cocking his head to the side. “Well, Alastor Hartfelt, you never told me you were very much a cannibal back when you were alive. You were a murderer, you got shot while burying a body in the forest, blah blah blah.” You scoffed, smirking at Alastor.

His smile only widened at your choice of words, “Where’d you find this information, darling?” He asks, shifting his body to be more pointed towards you. “The internet, you wouldn’t know what that is since you’re so… old.” You laughed, covering your mouth as you made eye contact with him once again. “I’m not THAT old, my body is of a thirty something year old man.” He rolled his eyes, gripping his Caine.

“A ‘thirty something year old man’ is eight feet? Sure.” You used your fingers as quotation marks to emphasize what you said. “I didn’t chose how tall I was, or how I looked like when I joined hell. Though, Lucifer, the man himself is much shorter than you.” He grinned, which made you laugh. “Really? The most powerful man of hell is short?” You snort, laying back. “Yes.” He nods, looking down at you laying.

“Is hell really that bad?” You blurted out, turning to your side and looking at him, pulling the covers over your shoulder. “Not at all! Though I’ve only gotten used to it.” He says, not showing his teeth anymore, but still smiling. “Of course YOU have. But, if I went to hell, is there anyone nice enough?” You ask another question, he thought about it. “Yes! There’s a few, it’s a hotel. I came up with the name myself, it’s called ‘Hazbin Hotel’ Charlie, the princess of hell, runs it and wants people to be redeemed. But there’s no such way of going into heaven after being sent to hell. It’s just some silly little dream she has.” He says in a playful voice, thumbing the radio part of his staff.

“I’d join if it’s a place to stay, IF I go.” You smiled at Alastor. “I can protect you if you end up in hell.” He says in random, his eyes narrowing towards your lying body. “Really?” You sit up, smiling wider. “Yes, but there’s a price.” He grins, placing his hands on his knees. “What is it?” You questioned. “Well, in exchange for protection in hell, and perhaps in the living world, you’ll give me your soul.” He says.

“Really? That’s it?” You raise an eyebrow, and he nods. “Yes, so it’s a deal then?” He brings his hand out, for you to grab. “..sure.” You place your hand in his, and he has a firm grip, everything turns green, green light surrounds the two of you. The lights happen for a few seconds before fading, and with your hand in his, you couldn’t control yourself as you pulled him close to you for a kiss. It was random, sure, but you found this very.. horny? If that was the right word.

He leans in to your soft kiss on his lips, and soon enough you’re below him with him nipping your neck.

— LATER (sorry I’m not in the mood for smut rn ahahahaha)

You woke up naked the next day, you were naked, and your body was aching. “Fuck, what even happened?” You ask yourself outloud, turning over and seeing someone sleeping next to you, facing away. You jump out of bed, hitting the floor. Your bare ass hitting the floor made the pain from your thighs ache even more, and the impact made a loud noise too. The man sleeping next you woke up, he shot up and looked over the bed to see you rubbing your head from how hard you fell.

“Alastor? Why’re you in my bed,” you asked, finding a shirt next to you and putting it on to cover yourself up. He didn’t answer, instead he moved away out of your sight. You looked down at your inner thighs, and they were filled with bite marks. Your eyes widened at the realization, “Holyyyy shitttt.” You touched the marks, which burned. You heard someone walk next to you, it was Alastor. He was fully clothed, “Seems you woken up on the wrong side of bed.” He held out a hand for you to grab, in which you did.

“Go get some clothes on before I depart.” He orders, walking out of the room and going somewhere in the house. You got dressed, putting on a bra, some clothes, whatever. You walked out of your room and sat down on the couch, Alastor joining you. “If I died right now, would you go to hell and find me?” You asked him. “No I wouldn’t now, since I own your soul you’d be sent to the hotel. In my room.” He explained.

“Oh. Would you let me go? Like, what are you gonna do with my soul?” You asked again. “I’ll summon you when needed. But, I may keep you around.” He admits. “Okay.” You answer, looking down at your hands. “Uhm, you can go now.” You shoo him off, so he leaves, turning into shadows and disappearing. You got up from the couch and went to the kitchen. You grabbed a knife and grasped the base, placing it to your neck, you tightened your neck before moving the sharp blade against your neck. Blood spilled out, and all you could see was red.

end of part one haha

[writing-until-i-drop]

What's In A Name? Chapter Nine

Meg Harding and Kate Carter were inseparable until their friends died five ago, then she ran to New Orleans to save lives as a paramedic. But when Javi calls on his two oldest friends to help him collect data, counting on their matching natural instincts for tornadoes, Meg goes home for the first time in years. That's where she meets Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers, the YouTube storm chasers her dad likes to watch, and finds herself fitting in more with them than with Storm PAR. Meg only plans to stay for the week but will it be easy to leave when the dust settles?

If a certain cowboy has a say in it, nothing about leaving is going to be easy.

A/N: The OG chasers make a group chat and the twister shifts towards a crowded town.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

Katie and Tyler had their plans all laid out, the science behind them seemed solid enough. Cathy had practically kicked them out of her house but made them promise to come back before heading home. Meg’s heart twinged when she thought of her life in New Orleans but she didn’t dwell on the thought long, quickly falling asleep in the back seat as Meg and Tyler talked science. Nick’s ringtone is what pulled her back to the land of the living some time later.

“Hey, Hot Stuff. My cougar still purrin’?” The whole truck jerked, Meg assumed there was a pothole, her eyes barely open.

“You know it, Honey Buns. You know, since you’ve been gone so long I was thinking of getting her some training wheels, in case you forgot how to do your job.” 

“I’m better than you on your best day, I’ve got moves you ain��t ever seen,” The truck jerked again and Meg finally opened her eyes, Kate was looking back at her, eyebrows up at her hairline. She pointed at Tyler, who was blocked by the seat at the angle Meg was leaning against the window. “Hold on, babe. My boyfriend is trying to kill us.” Nick’s laughter rang in her ear.

“It’s Nick isn’t it?” Tyler sighed, chuckling to himself. “Sorry,”

“Who’s Nick?” 

“Her partner at work,” Tyler explained, Nick was still laughing his ass off.

“Nick, if you don’t stop laughing, I’m fixin’ to tell your wife,” She kicked the back of Tyler’s seat, making sure he heard that part. “About Tommy’s bachelor party.”

“And I’ll tell your man ‘bout the supply closet. Truce?” 

“Truce but it’s official, I ain’t ever lettin’ y’all meet, nuh uh, over my dead body.” Nick and Meg laughed, continuing to chat about all the workplace drama she had missed so far. 

“Can’t wait to have you back, Meg.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Meg couldn’t tell if she was lying or not. “Gotta go, Hot Stuff. Make sure you scrub that rig good tonight, you know she’s a dirty girl after a shift.” When she hung up, Meg sat up straight in the seat, catching a glimpse of Tyler’s pink cheeks in the rearview mirror.

“You always talk like that to colleagues, Mud Bug?” Meg snorted, knowing how out of place the flirting sounded to anyone who was outside of the field. Fire fighters, police, and medics all had a twisted sense of what was appropriate. Normal people had a line that they’d never cross, fearing being impolite or crude, the people in Meg’s line of work however crossed that line with glee. 

“Only the married ones,” She reached up over the seat, resting both hands on Tyler’s shoulders. “How much longer we got on the road?” 

“Not long,” He squeezed her hand, keeping the other on the wheel. “How’s Nick?” 

“He’s annoyin’ as ever, they assigned him a rookie EMT as a partner while I’m gone and let’s just say, it’s goin’ interestin’ for the both of ‘em.” 

When they pulled into the auto-garage, the rest of the Wranglers were standing there waiting for them, including the reporter.

“Ben, you stuck around,” Tyler greeted the man, hopping out of his truck. Meg rolled her eyes, heading straight for Lily, who pulled her into a hug.

“How’s everything going, darlin’?” Meg asked, “Saw y’all chased without us.” 

“Boone won’t stop moping that Tyler left him behind,” Lily snorted. “How are things with you and him?” Meg pulled away, blushing,

“Let’s just say, I’m wonderin’ what kind of rings you’re picking out for us.” Lily squealed with excitement and Meg had to clamp a hand over her mouth when everyone’s head turned her way. “Not all of Oklahoma needs to be in on this conversation.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll text you pictures later.” 

“Hey, y’all ready?” Dani called out to the group and everyone converged, Meg and Lily hanging towards the back of the group while Dani ran the salesman down the specifications of what they needed.

After settling on an aluminum trailer, the Wranglers drove out to a field and started working on preparing the barrels and rockets. 

“What are you doing over here, Meg?” Boone stuck the camera in her face, grinning like a dope.

“I’m checking all of my supplies, making sure everything’s ready to go in case there’s trouble.” 

“Y’all, meet Meg, she’s a badass paramedic that’s got T wrapped around her little finger,” Meg batted at him. Boone laughed, dancing away to go check on Lily and Cairo. She felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. 

“Oh lordy, they done made a group chat.” 

Dad: You’re on the livestream!

Rabbit: Wrapped around your finger?

Haynes: Leave her alone Rabbit

Dad: When are y’all getting married?

Lawrence: She’s never getting married out of spite at this point

Meg chuckled at Lawrence’s text, appreciating the throwback to when she looked her Grandma Harding in the eye after being admonished for not “sitting like a lady” and how “no man wants to marry a wild animal” and said with all of the conviction in the world: I ain’t ever gettin’ married. 

Dad: Don’t say that

Joey: Yeah, shut up Lawrence

Haynes: Don’t be mean to him

Preacher: Be careful out there, Meggy

Meg: Always am, Preach <3

Mama: Wear your harness!!!!

Meg tucked her phone away, going to stand by Kate who was quietly snapping pictures.

“You ready to tame a tornado?” Meg rested a hand on the middle of Kate’s back, waiting until she stopped snapping photos tto bring her in for a hug.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. I’m real glad you’re here, Meg,” 

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Not even New Orleans. The two of them stood there, hugging for a long while before breaking apart, both of them feeling the atmosphere start to change. 

“Let’s do this.” 

“Something’s not right,” Meg said just as Katie announced that the Doppler went dark. “I don’t like this.” The twisting feeling in her gut only got worse when Cairo went down. Kate was silent but Meg knew by the look on her face that she was thinking the same thing. 

The tornado came through the rain out of nowhere, flipping Javi’s StormPAR truck like a toy. 

“Javi!” Kate screamed, her hand flying back to hold Meg’s. “Tyler, we got to do something.” 

“On your left guys, it’s hitting something big!” Boone’s shout crackled over the radio and Meg let out a string of curse words that would make any sailor blush. 

“Shit,” 

“Oh my God,” They watched in horror as the storm barelled into some type of factory, becoming wrapped with fire.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Tyler quickly put the truck in drive, trying to flip them around. Meg squeezed her eyes shut, panic coursing through her veins. Was she going to die this time? Was the tornado finally going to claim what slipped out of grasp all those years ago? She vaguely heard Kate and Tyler squabbling over what to do about Javi, feeling the panic inside of her shift to an eerie calm, her training coming back to her like the second nature it was. 

“Get us out of here, Cowboy.” Tyler’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror before he high-tailed it out of there, following Javi’s truck which had somehow flipped back onto its wheels while her eyes had been shut, shouting at them to hold on. 

When light started breaking through the storm clouds again, Tyler called out on the radio to check in with the team and Meg felt herself relax a little with each confirmation of safety. 

“What was that?” Ben shouted somewhere in the background and Meg knew the answer in her soul. Tornadoes weren’t classified until after the fact, their strength determined by how much they destroyed, but she could feel it. They were running from the finger of God. She twisted in her seat, looking at the storm.

“It’s shifting course.” 

“Shit,” Kate groaned. “It’s heading straight for a town. It’s heading for El Reno,” Kate started spouting orders over the radio and Meg undid her harness, pulling her medical bag out from under the seat, throwing the strap over her shoulder so she wouldn’t have to waste time when they stopped. 

“You okay back there?” Tyler asked, reaching one hand up over his shoulder for her to squeeze.

“I’m okay, baby. Let’s get these people to safety.” That’s all he needed to hear, picking up speed as they drove past the StormPAR truck. 

The town was in chaos, everyone running around and screaming. They started shouting instructions, pushing vendors away from their tents and towards shelter. There was debris flying all around, the wicked wind making it hard to stay on their feet. 

“Go, go to the movie theater,” Meg guided people towards the theater. Her heart stopped when she heard Tyler scream.

“Tyler! Kate, help me.” Tyler was pinned beneath large debris, and even with all of her might, Meg knew she wasn’t strong enough to move it.

“Meg, you have to go.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” She grunted, shifting her feet for better leverage. “Kate, go inside.” 

“I’m not leaving you either,” Her best friend gritted out as they tried to lift the boards together. There was another large crack that sounded through the air, the scream of warping metal shooting a bolt of panic through her. 

“Javi?” Meg spotted him running towards them with a board that he wedged beneath the debris.

“C’mon, guys, lift!” They managed to pull Tyler out just as the water tower crashed down, thousands of gallons of water knocking them off of their feet. The rushed into the theater just in time to see the ceiling start to cave in and began to check for a basement. 

“This building isn’t built to withstand what’s coming,” Javi shouted over the roaring winds. At the sound of crashing and screaming, both of the men took off back towards the theater, leaving Kate and Meg to stare at the storm. Meg felt that calm again but it was different, it wasn’t the calm she felt under pressure when working on a critical patient. It was the calm she felt before she ran into an unsecured scene, knowing that she could die.

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Meg asked, praying that she wasn’t.

“I swiped his keys,” Kate held up the keyring, offering it to her. The scrunchie Meg had lost a few days ago dangling from the jump ring.

“Then let’s go.” They ran for the truck.

If they survived, their friends and mamas were going to kill them. But if this worked, they would save a lot of people too. It had been a long time since Meg had driven anywhere near a tornado but she did her best to pretend that the shaking of the cab was nothing more than the death wobble of an ambulance going 100 mph on the freeway. 

“That way,” Kate pointed. Meg took a moment to strap into the harness, Tyler’s cologne overwhelming her senses, reminding her that this was a bad idea, then she shifted into gear. Meg didn’t need the directions Kate was shouting, she knew where the storm was going. And with a reckless kind of fearlessness, she pressed the gas pedal to the floor. 

“This truck ain’t made for this,” Meg shouted even though they both already knew it.” 

“Hope he’s got insurance,” Kate’s humor was still intact, even if her sanity wasn’t. The truck caught air going from the road to the grass, eliciting shrieks from the two women. Out of the corner of her eye, Meg saw Kate pull out her phone.

“My name’s Kate Carter and this is Meg Hardiing and today, we’re going to tame a tornado or die trying.” She locked her phone into the mount on the dash, capturing the whole cab with the camera.

“Right now there’s an EF-5 heading towards the town of El Reno,” Meg narrated. The recording was almost comforting, Jeb used to record them all the time, making them explain what they were doing. And just like when they were in the swimming pool, Meg felt like he was there with them. Kate must have felt it too, her voice shaking as she listed off the science of what they were going to do.

“If we don’t make it, we just want to say that we love you guys and mama, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Meg shouted, swerving to avoid debris. “You know I love y’all but you know we have to do this.” She cursed, narrowly avoiding a large tree limb. “And Ty, I love you, and I really hope you’ve got full coverage on this baby.” 

“This is how you’re going to tell him you love him for the first time?” 

“Not really seeing any better options here, Katie. Shit!” She stomped the breaks, deploying the anchors as soon as they stopped. “Rockets?” 

“Rockets,” Kate fired them and they watched as the twisters sucked up the chemicals. Meg felt completely calm, watching the monster tornado moving closer.

“It’s beautiful,” She couldn’t help but whisper with childlike wonder. It was probably going to kill her but it really was beautiful.

“Let’s deploy together,” They hovered their fingers over the button. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three,” The mechanism went off without a hitch, the compound being pulled up by the storm around them.

“I love you, Katie my Lady.” 

“I love you too, Mud Bug.” They held hands and did nothing to stop what was coming because what else could they do? 

The trailer went first, lightening the weight of the truck enough for the force of the winds to move it despite the anchors. Meg’s eyes fluttered shut and her body relaxed in acceptance. Never before had the universe heard such silence in a truck being flipped like a quarter through the air, both women just waiting for the end. 

Taglist: @theforevermorereject @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @sinners-98-world @nerdgirljen @candlejuice @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @football1921 @katiemcrae @emma8895eb @itsdesiree86 @closetspngirl @lostinwonderland314 @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @winterassassin1804

Next Chapter

[bomberqueen17]

Big Easy

I am on vacation this week in New Orleans. There are many reasons for this but mostly they're not about me. I'm just here for the ride. Hilariously the one thing I found on on my own that I was like "oh i gotta do that while we're here" is also the thing that has been recommended to me by literally everyone i've spoken to including the Lyft driver from the airport, which is the WWII Museum, and conversely the more people recommend it the more I'm like :/ I might not enjoy this that much. WWII history was a childhood hyperfixation of mine but I've found the shit I was into about it is not the stuff other people like about it. This museum features a movie narrated by Tom Hanks so I feel like it's going to mm emphasize the bits I don't care about a lot. BUT I am going to go and I am probably going to devote a whole day. The upside of this is that probably Dude will not be deadly bored by it. He does tend to have the issue of not being into what I'm into sometimes... but this will probably be fine.

My hip is doing okay, the one I've been physically therapizing for ages? But what's popped up is that as the bad hip heals, the "good" hip starts giving me trouble-- I have prettty bad sciatic nerve problems on that side, and I didn't notice them so much because the cartilage tear on the bad side hurt enough to distract me. But lately it's like-- a little electric current of Badness inside the back of my right knee. No fun. But I've been doing physical therapy exercises for about fifteen weeks now (I just counted), three times a week, so I'd damn well better have seen some improvement LOL.

But mostly I can walk around, and I have a better idea earlier on whether walking is going to be good for me or not, so idk it's progress.

So far I have had a few bites of a shrimp po'boy (in the Atlanta airport, where we ordered something else and the waitress didn't hear us and just brought better food, no regrets on our part), some amazing gumbo, a bit of really good crawfish etouffe, and a really good Hurricane cocktail, and have seen the steamboat Natchez going up the MIssissippi with a brass band playing on it. Oh yeah there was a live band at the baggage claim? Apparently there were Many Doings in the French Quarter last night because of Cinco de Mayo, our Lyft driver was explaining they'd barricaded a bunch of the streets and she was delighted they'd moved one barricade because otherwise she could not have dropped us at our hotel. But by the later evening when we were out and about it wasn't quite so crowded but there were police cars and sirens and apparently some kind of disturbance a couple blocks away from our hotel. We kept walking because whatever it was was Not Our Business.

I'm mostly here for the food. I brought mostly me-made clothes. I was wearing a nice button-up shirt to fly in, and i sat at the gate during our layover and hand-bound two of the last three buttonholes on it (I'd cut and overcasted them at home but ran out of time). Relaxing and chill, honestly.

There are a couple of fabric stores I want to visit but apart from that I have zero agenda. Maybe Dude came up with something. I think he's mostly been researching restaurants.

I did not expect this, though: I know the names of so many of the places here from the news coverage of Katrina, and when I saw the Superdome in person i started crying, and had to explain to the driver that I'd been an airport bartender during that time and so had been stuck in front of huge TVs with 24h live coverage, and I'd had a bunch of online friends living there and I didn't realize until this moment how much it scarred me, so I could only imagine for the people here, and she talked about how she'd been a cleaner in an apartment complex at the time (I'd sussed that she was my age or older so I figured she'd remember it as well as I do, because to my shock that was 20 years ago now) and how many people had just left and never come back, had abandoned their possessions and just never came back for them because the power didn't come back on for two or three months.

She said "Now I know, when they tell you to evacuate, you get the hell out."

She also complained that nobody knows how to act, because it's all tourists. Which, fair.

... Anyway, anyone with recs for New Orleans feel free to tell them to me, I'm just here for the food and the vibes.

[claiestve]

Ima send a few ideas. Don’t have to write all just choose your favorite one.

Isaac finally being brave enough to leave the house with the listener. Before they got together maybe where a client came over (like Vik) but he was always looking at listener and then asking „where did you find them …. Hey sweetie you wanna work for me too ? I’ll pay you more“ and Isaac getting pissed at some point (jealous OFC HEHE). Xanthus coming back after a hunt in New Orleans and bringing listener a gift like a plush or something else. A funny goofy conversation between Xanthus and Dontis and DONTIS ALWAYS TEASING.

𝐋𝐞𝐭 '𝐄𝐦 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 ꨄ 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤

˜”* ❝𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙞𝙣'𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙨.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.

⎯���⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

This was your first time leaving the house with Isaac. You were a bit nervous since the people around were unfamiliar to you but Isaac would whisper in your ear who a certain person was so you know. 

Isaac was very adamant about staying by your side and staying with you but of course, he couldn’t be with you the whole time. 

While Isaac was gone, you made sure not to look at anyone to avoid conversation but of course there’s always someone that seeks you out.

“Why hello there! Have we met before?” You hear from behind you.

You turn around to see a man with light hair, light eyes, smiling at you. He was like the exact oposite of Isaac appearance wise. 

“I don’t think we have, Y/N.” You introduce yourself and reach your hand out. As much as you didn’t want to talk to him, you remained respectful and polite. 

“Oh! Y/N! I know you. I’ve heard about you from… who was it? Ah, Isaac. People say you’re the housekeeper?”

“Assistant.” You felt insulted by being called a housekeeper.

“Oh, assistant? Well, you could make a good amount of money working for me. I mean, Isaac, he’s not one for company. I’m sure you know. But I could treat you better, pay you better, everything else.”

You didn’t say anything but you did let out an awkward laugh. Well, what are you supposed to say?

“Besides, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be in the care of… him.”

You felt a hand on your shoulder. Perfect timing, Isaac.

“Oh, hello, Isaac.” The man looks up at him. 

“Save it. You know better than trying to buy people. Especially in a place like this.” Isaac looked down at him. He looked pissed. 

“I’m sure your assistant didn’t mind my offer,” He says before looking back at you, “Right, beautiful?”

The man got closer to you before Isaac put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Back up. You think calling them names is going to make them swoon for you. Y/N isn’t shallow like you.”

“Isaac.” You try butting in.

“-And I’d be damned if I let you ‘buy’ my assistant let alone my partner.”

His hands go from your shoulders to your waist. The man looks angry, like, seriously angry.

“Y/N, he’s taking advantage of you and your beauty!”

Isaac looks like he’s about to start but you do it for him.

“Look, I recognize that you think I ‘look good’ or whatever and you think Isaac doesn’t treat me well but I don’t want to go with you. Judging by the fact that you’re so comfortable walking up to people and trying to bribe them says a lot about you and quite frankly, ‘a pretty thing like me shouldn’t be in the care of… you.”

The man looks at you in disbelief. He must’ve thought his bribing would actually work. 

Isaac on the other hand looks, in awe. He’s never really seen you speak up for yourself with anyone but him so this was…

“Come on, ‘Sac.” You grab his hand.

He leans down a little, “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“I don’t. I’m shaking like crazy.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek.

“I’ll make sure that guy comes nowhere near you.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

dude i wanna see a pissed off isaac like he's so attractive.anyways THANK U FOR REQUESTING (i love isaac if u couldn't tell). im trying to get stuff out before his new part so yall can be fed beforehand.

(ill do the other requests from this as well be patient w me yall)

[xproskeith]

can you tell i'm bored-

please answer those. i also drew a ghost for you. because i'm bored. i'm gonna answer my asks too lmao HAVE FUN!

Lmao ok but I actually love this. The you wrote it out AND the ghost! Tis the season!! 👻🎃 Now let's begin!

11: best friend?

My best friend is awesome! His name is Ben and we've been friends since we met at college for our first degrees (we'd both end up going back for nursing later. He ended up following me on that front). But we really started to get closer after we both graduated and especially after I moved back to New Orleans after moving home after graduation for a year and a half. He's just a really cool and chill guy who has always been there for me and been super supportive. We've both helped each other through some really rough times in our lives and really supported each other. He's pretty introverted, tho if you met him you might not realize that at first. It's a hilarious contrast to my extreme extroversion. I also owe meeting my wife to him. He pushed me to finally get on the dating apps and I met my wife on hinge. He also encouraged me when she and I started talking and dating seriously. He also knows how to deal with my anxiety very well and respectfully, tho my anxiety has gotten immensely better than it used to be. Still, worth mentioning. He's also said on multiple occasions how much he appreciates and like how I am just unapologetically me and an unapologetic nerd. To quote him, "genuine folks are hard to find." So that was also really cool to hear from him and just reaffirmed that being myself is the right move. When he lived in the city with me, we'd hang out at least once a week. But we text daily for the most part and still try to see each other as much as we can even tho he's 2.5hrs away now. He was my best man and gave an amazing and touching best man speech. Now, almost a year later, people still talk about it and quote him, "IDK how else to describe him other than he's aggressively friendly." it's accurate and everyone who has heard that agrees lol. Anyway, he's great and I'm blessed to have him in my life. Here's a pic of us at my bachelor trip and before my wedding. As you can see, and as I've mentioned before in various other posts, the dude is built like a Greek god lol

15: favorite movie

This is actually a hard one lol. I enjoy a lot of movies, but have a hard time narrowing down a fave. Hmm. Deadpool and Wolverine is certainly up there for very obvious reasons, but a movie that has always stuck with me since I was younger is The Prestige. It's a well done film whose twist really got me at the end. It's rare for me not to figure out a movie twist before the end and this one I did not see coming.

18: most traumatic experience 

You're gonna get 2 for the price of 1 lol. 1 childhood trauma and 1 adulthood trauma. Both cover a span of time instead of one specific incident.

First is childhood. From pretty much 1st - 4th grade, I was bullied pretty often. I was a very big and fat kid who was also nice and didn't exactly fight back, so I suppose in retrospect that made me an easy target. But beyond that, I was often made the butts of my peers' jokes or would be asked to do something silly or embarrass or the like and they'd say stuff like "of course we're you're friend!" and "if you do it, we'll be your friend." so this went as well as you can expect. It got so bad and took so much of a toll on me that my mom literally pulled me out of school to homeschool me from 5th-8th grade. This would eventually become repressed as the mind often does only to rear its ugly head later in adulthood when my friends wanted to institute a "punishment" for whoever placed last in our fantasy football league. I had always opposed this idea, but they we were really pushing for it that year. Didn't help I was dead last, but I was having such a visceral reaction and didn't know why. But I was literally about to drop out of the league because of it. Then all of a sudden the memories came flooding back and I finally understood the why. I explained it to 3 of my friends in the league, including the guy in charge, and they abandoned the punishment idea. They said they hoped they knew that this was very different and that no ill will was meant. I did, but it didn't stop how I felt. So the punishment idea was dropped.

Now for adulthood. That would be working through COVID as a nurse. This was traumatizing in many ways, but in particular there were 3 key points. The first was watching patients deteriorate and die so rapidly. Like I would leave in the morning and come back to find out my patient coded and died 3 hours after I left. They were fine before then. We also called so many rapid and codes because people would deteriorate so much and so rapidly. Despite everything I knew and docs and nurses way more experienced than me knew, we couldn't save them all or stop the rapid spiral.

Secondly, every time a code blue or rapid response is called overhead, it's preceeded by a beep on the intercom. I would hear that so many times during that time that I found myself to physically flinch and tense and my heart would race whenever I'd hear it. Even a year later when it was just happening to make an announcement. Didn't realize it was legitimately a PTSD response until I was talking to an army buddy who was like "Yeah dude that's what happens to me when my PTSD gets triggered." I overcome that by becoming the code and rapid nurse for my icu when I moved. So I just threw myself headlong into it and overcame it by exposure and desensitization.

Lastly, there was the whiplash of being called a hero and having my knowledge and insight respected only to be called a liar months later. By my own family even. I still remember making a lengthy thoughtful post about the importance of making and explaining why surgical works for day to day vs the n95 masks needed in hospital and the same day my mom made a post about how covid is a lie and masking is just the government trying to control us. My family has on multiple occasions told me my experiences weren't real and I was exaggerating, especially because I'm liberal. After many fights, we all finally agreed to just never talk about it around each other. An uneasy peace, but better.

So there you have it. My two biggest traumatic experiences lol.

21: what I love most about myself

My kindness and willingness to help people

28: a description of the person I dislike the most

Hmm I don't really dislike people. But I suppose this one older lady at work. Kind of short, white, fading blonde hair that's always short. She's always unhappy lol. Mostly dislike her bc she gatekeeps certain patients and has full control over the schedule despite not being the manager.

42: last thing I ate

Greek yogurt and pumpkin seed granola

[thelioncourts]

would love to hear your thoughts on the trailer :) I don't know what thoughts I'm looking for, I guess just general ones, but also the thigns you're excited for and all that

I have to admit, I've only actually watched through the trailer about three times, it makes me feel genuinely insane. we're getting this piece of art this year !!!!

In all seriousness, my thoughts are all over the place (in an overall good way). I'm curious and excited and terrified and crying at all the Louis and Armand things. The part at the beginning where Daniel asks if they're going to finish each other's sentences the whole time, how they've been sitting on the couch in all the clips we've gotten so far, the 'We've been together for 77 years,' the kiss (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), the cheek kiss (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), the strange scene we've seen once or twice where it looks like a kiss might have happened but Louis seems to faint afterward, etc. etc. It's all so much and I have known since s1 ended that Louis and Armand's love story was going to leave me fulfilled and devastated all at once and it feels utterly confirmed in this trailer. I think they're still so in love, in so many ways, and I think it can't, won't, shouldn't work out and it makes me so sad, I can't wait to be heartbroken and destroyed watching it. I will say, though, seeing all the clips of them does make me curious about the future of Loumand. Louis leaves Lestat for Armand again at one point and I have thoughts and ideas on potentiality for that in the future of the show, depending on how long it goes on. Regarding Louis himself, I'm just -- so in awe of Jacob Anderson, as per usual. Louis is the most interesting, beautiful, enrapturing thing on the screen and everything is better when it comes back to him, always. The 'It's you and me' clip, with all the flashes of Louis and other people, all returning to Louis, just !!! it's him. He's everything. It's all so much better when it comes back to him, we're so lucky. In terms of Claudia, Delainey seems to have this grasp/concept of Claudia that has me shaking. Her Claudia is everything to me already. I know lots of people have talked about it, but Claudia's ghost being a part of some later stories feels so much more doable with Delainey and I hope, in some capacity, that comes true. The 1700s stuff scares me a little, but only because it appears we're getting a lot more of it than I was anticipating this season. I expected some, absolutely, and when we got Nicki casting confirmation I was like, "Oh, we're getting the 1700s for real," but the trailer is a lot of 1700s and it scares me for a couple of reasons, namely that -- once again -- we're not getting Lestat's POV of it so there is the toss-up of 'how did he see this play out though' that will somehow have to be addressed in later seasons. It also scares me a little because Gabrielle has to be there, right??? Did they cast Gabrielle and manage to keep it a secret???????????? That's wild. But in reality, it scares me too because I hope we're not living too far in the 1700s this season. I know it's important and I know Armand was there so it makes total sense, but I feel like we're already treading a lot of waters with 1) The life in New Orleans that can only be told by Louis 2) the life in New Orleans after the arrival of Lestat 3) the life in New Orleans once Claudia was brought into the family 4) all the time spent getting to Europe/exploring Eastern Europe (basically, anything pre-Paris) 5) early Paris 6) Paris once Louis and Claudia and the future of their being together starts to play out 7) the trial 6) San Fransisco from what Daniel will inevitably start to remember 7) San Fran from what Louis remembers 8) San Fran from Armand, who might be our most aware of that entire time 9) Dubai pre-Armand knowledge 10) Dubai now. Like, I know a lot of those are paired up (You could categorize it simply as 1) New Orleans 2) Pre-Paris 3) Paris 4) San Fran 5) Dubai) and that cuts it in half, but given all the POV bits we get, that's just not the case. Adding yet another time period in here is just. So much. (It also scares me because I think some fans have expectations of several different things in 1700s that I don't think will happen/can happen/at least definitely not this season happen and I'm readying for the 'WAIT BUT' and the bitching etc.)

The Loustat stuff will utterly ruin me this season. It's going to be gut-wrenching. The hallucinations, the possible reunion that it appears we see, the modern New Orleans skyline, the way that Louis seemingly will talk about Lestat in a way that makes Armand seem to feel not as loved (this is a speculation based solely on the "Lestat, Lestat, Lestat, Lestat, Lestat" scene, I have SO many thoughts on that and of Armand there, god, I'm nauseous with it). I need to find my post about it, but I made a post either during s1 airing or immediately after (definitely by Nov. 2022) about how I think we'll get some kind of complete Loustat confirmation of sorts this season and by s3, they will be back together and will stay together. I have lots of reasons and thoughts on that as well. Anyway, I will cry endlessly about them this season, I know it.

I LOVE the hallucinations. I mean, when we knew that was definitely happening while s2 filming was going on, I was already excited, but seeing it just !!!!!!!!!!! it's so good. I can't even put into words how excited I am about the hallucinations of Lestat. Oh my god. Louis. The theatre!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Santiago looks fucking insane, god bless Ben Daniels, and I'm excited to get to actually know some characters from the theatre. It's something that doesn't really happen at all in the movie, and it's definitely not a focus or anything in the IwtV book. But I love side characters, I think they'll fill in some space that the Azalea had in s1 and I love that.

If Justin Kirk is David, that's the one thing that is going to piss me off this season. I honestly, truly 100%, thought we might not get David and I was soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo more than okay with that. I hate David so much and don't think he serves any kind of plot purpose and he remains to be a shitty replacement for Louis that never worked out and was completely insignificant by the end of the series. Now, if they don't do some of the wild shit with him and make him solely some kind of tie-in/draw to the new Talamasca show they're doing, then fine. But if they start attempting to make him a love interest, I might legit tap out, I can't stand that man. At least Marius is vital to the stories, we truly can't get Akasha or Lestat or Armand without Marius. David................oh my god, die already. San Fran SCARES ME. It's one of those things that, sure, obviously we know how it goes in the book, but they have flipped it so heavily on its head, I can't predict anything and it's exciting and horrifying. Armand being there, the seemingly-more-than-one-night interview, the interview ending by the time Louis was only halfway done with the story, the brief scene that appears to be Armand looking worried at something (maybe Daniel) while Louis is floating/levitating (!!!!!!!!?) in the back, etc. Oh my god. I think we're in the wildest ride there. Um. Louis and Claudia turning Madeline together........

Louis' men not being shitttttttttttttttttttt. Every time I do see gifs or see clips or something, and I see that quick scene of Lestat walking through the audience (Sam Reid's silhouette is insane, those broad shoulders, that profile????????????? He's so hot I'm feral about him) and Louis is on the stage, next to Claudia and Madeline, and you can see where Lestat's chair is next to Louis, but further away, on the stage.......................bitch, you're really letting them do that to Louis and walking through the crowd, telling your story??? And Armand, bitch?????? You're really letting them do that to Louis, just sitting there watching it play out, having taken Louis and Claudia and Madeline out just before???????????????? They're not SHIT, Louis deserves better, always has. I need to stop rambling, but lastly, the thing I already made a quick post about, but the fact that I do obviously recognize things from the book but none of it is quite how it seems..........I'm obsessed. This show is literally like....okay, like asking someone to summarize the book for you and they say, "The book is about a vampire named Louis de Pointe du Lac who tells his life story to a young reporter in 1970s San Fran. His story details how he became a vampire, how he fell in love with his maker, the Vampire Lestat, how they created and took in the child vampire Claudia, how Louis and Claudia killed Lestat, how they went to Paris and met a theatre group of vampires, and Louis fell in love with the leader Armand. It also details the inevitable and tragic death of Claudia at the hands of this theatre, and how that death left Louis utterly changed." And you're like "Oh okay" but the details aren't all there so they just...............filled in their own, and we get this masterpiece of a story that is the bones of the book, and made what it is by time and care. Idk. I love that we're all on an equilibrium.

OH. I'm also holding out, but not anticipating sadly, some Loustat flashbacks. I need them. I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo in need of it, you have no idea.

[transastronautistic]

Autistic Burnout & Substance Use

[cw: alcohol, addiction, unhealthy coping behaviors]

Two AuDHD mental health professionals discuss burnout and alcohol on their Divergent Conversations podcast:

PATRICK CASALE: I think one thing that we're not touching on and that's important to name too, is when you are in autistic burnout, substance use is going to ramp up, drastically. 

DR. MEGAN NEFF: Absolutely, absolutely.

PATRICK CASALE: And I noticed that for me that I was [on a] retreat in New Orleans...surrounded by 20 people that I had to be on for the entire time, so alcohol was my best friend at that moment...To have some semblance of small talk, alcohol has to be the lubricant for me.

And acknowledging that is the realization of like, you have to pay attention to that for yourselves, for any of you who are listening, like, whatever the substance of choice or process of choice is, because it can get dangerous very quickly, and it can get out of hand very, very quickly, too.

MEGAN NEFF: Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, this is interesting. This isn't something I've talked too much about...But I have struggled with disordered relationship to alcohol in the past, and particularly around burnout. 

So, it's interesting. I'm curious about — there's something I've noticed. So, my spouse and I respond really different to alcohol. For me, it energizes me. For them, he's like ready to go to sleep after a glass or two of wine, or beer, or whatever it is. I noticed among autistic people — and this is totally anecdotal — I noticed that it tends to be more energizing for them, which I'm really curious about. 

So, for me, I often used it to energize and as like liquid dopamine. So, if I had papers to grade or some tedious task, and I was in burnout, then I'd be like, "Oh, well, I'll pair it with some wine tonight." ...

So, I think whether it's socializing, because it takes a sensory edge off and it makes socializing easier, or whether it's to try and motivate us, or because it gives us this kind of faux sense of regulation and energy, I think there's so many reasons we're really vulnerable to, particularly, I would say alcohol during burn out.

PATRICK CASALE: I agree 100% with everything you just said, including the energizing component. And you know, there's such a cost to it too, because you don't sleep well, and then you throw in alcohol into the mix. And I mean, it's just so challenging. 

...You talk about sensory soothing a lot, and you talk about skills and techniques to kind of manage burnout when you're in it. And I'm just curious about things that our listeners who may not be mental health professionals and have access to the things that we do, that they can do when they're experiencing some of this stuff.

MEGAN NEFF: ...So, on one, I think, identifying those self-soothers that are like faux self-soothers. Like, they're self-soothing in the moment, but they're actually making your burnout worse. So, things like alcohol use or other substance use. I would think identifying those and really targeting those things, because those create a cycle, a loop that then perpetuate the burnout. 

And I think for a lot of people working with a medical provider or mental health therapist when they're targeting those self-soothers that are actually in the long run causing more harm, it can be really helpful to work with someone around those things. 

[illleavemymessageinmysong]

Send It Now, Write Away…

All those songs where the narrator is longing for communication with someone. Old-school stuff: letters, cards, phone calls.

In most cases, he’s wanting the other party to contact him. In ‘No More Lonely Nights’, he’s the one contemplating making the call and the official video gives us a perfect visual expression of this.

In the video, the song itself is topped and tailed by scenes in a cinema projectionist’s room. Paul plays the projectionist, who, while making himself a cuppa, decides to phone someone (perhaps inspired by the film he’s showing?)

There’s a sense that this is a call he’s made or contemplated making many times. He dials the number - 1663552 (anyone?) - but it rings out. He puts the earpiece to his lips before hanging up.

Some cat and mouse antics ensue, with our hero following the cat up the stairs, brew in hand, to the roof. At this point the song begins.

We get some rooftop views of London and the Thames, followed by scenes from Broad Street. The song ends and we return to the, empty, projection room. As the film reel runs out, the phone rings but our guy’s not there to answer it. What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.

Not all these songs will have the same impulse. Paul’s talked about ‘Call Me Back Again’ as a 50’s style boyfriend/girlfriend lyric, though many have suggested that the timing of the writing of the song reflects Paul’s phone-based relationship with John and the possibility of him joining Paul and Wings in the studio in New Orleans.

‘Anyway’ is a song I’ve seen described as reflecting communication problems with Heather Mills towards the end of their relationship, although I can’t find the original source for this idea. We do have this from Paul:

“ ‘Anyway’ was a little song that became a bigger song. The thoughts in it are quite little, but somehow when you set it down as a song it becomes bigger. And those kind of surprises are what I do music for”.

That is quite telling, I think. A song can be inspired by a contemporary thing going on in his life but can then spread out beyond that. “I’ve been waiting, waiting so long” and “in my soul is constant yearning” speak of a longing that goes much further back, doesn’t it? Songs can develop from one idea and go beyond it.

You need love, write a letter, you need love write away. Get it down, you'll feel better, send it now, write away (Write Away)

If you love me, won't you call me, I've been waiting, waiting too long…in my soul is constant yearning (Anyway)

Give me your number, I'll give you a ring…Oh, man, I know I won't be lonely any more… me and my phone, I'm gonna call your home (I’ll Give You A Ring)

Send a card to me (Rainclouds)

Keep on sending your love in the heat of battle (Save Us)

When you're ready, let me know. I'll be waiting to make arrangements for the trip (If You Wanna)

I can wait another day until I call you. You've only got my heart on a string and everything aflutter (No More Lonely Nights)

I called your house, every night since then. But I ain't never, no no never heard you calling me, come on and call me back again (Call Me Back Again)

When I want ya, do I get ya? All I needed your number. Will you give me your number (The Mess)

Let me be the one you wish for, one you call for, when you're all alone. (Off The Ground)

And I read the note that you never wrote to me (The Note You Never Wrote)

If you want my love, leave your name and address (Name And Address)

All alone, I sit home by the phone, waiting for you, baby" (Say, Say, Say)

Weirdly, even in ‘Lindiana’

If i can be of help in matters such as these, don’'t hesitate to call, I’d only be too pleased to take a look. (Lindiana)

[nerdygaymormon]

hello! o/ im a queer teenager from canada! i lead my highschool's gsa and am very active in the queer community around us. we raised $800 for the Trevor Project last year, raised $500 towards a chest binder breakroom at our school and are officially putting on the school's first all-age queer prom this may!

however, im very confused at the moment. i grew up in an atheist household and have never really found myself believing in God or anything religious. while i still dont think i believe ALL of it, lately ive been doing a lot of thinking after finding an old pocket bible that belonged to my great grandmother (she practically raised me but i never knew she was religious, she never mentioned it at all) and flipping through it and reading her flagged scriptures (i believe thats what theyre called, forgive me if im wrong), etc.

i then resorted to the internet and have been doing a bit of research and am now very conflicted about my feelings and beliefs. i now have moments where i genuinely believe there is something/someone divine out there. i find myself... almost talking to it, sometimes? i dont really know how to describe it. i even tried praying the other day for the first time in my life. (i probably didnt do it right if theres a proper way, but the point is i did it and i surprised myself.)

even though i have these moments, i still have times where i doubt it all. aside from the occasional joke, ive always done my best to be respectful of people's faith, but never saw myself believing until now. and when i say believe, like i said before, it isnt all of it. (like the creation of the world, etc)

i feel sort of fake in a way i dont know how to describe because of my conflicted feelings and how i dont believe everything. there are a lot of things i want to say about it but i really cant pull words from the emotions and i keep trying to. i also dont really have anyone in my life who i can talk to about this stuff. my family will not take me seriously and none of my friends and teachers are religious.

i dont know if you take asks like this, and its totally fine if you dont, but if you have any kind of advice it would be greatly appreciated.

sorry for the long ask, but thanks so much! hope youre having a wonderful day my friend 🤍

Congratulations for all you accomplish for queer students at your school! That's amazing!!!

That you find some aspects with religion resonates with you shouldn't be surprising or upsetting. Humans have been creating and practicing religions since before there was recorded history. There seems to be a need that is satisfied by religion.

In a broad sense, religion does 3 thing:

1. It provides an explanation for natural phenomena. Why is the ground shaking? Why did the sun go dark temporarily? Why is there a drought? Why is dad sick? Why did a hurricane pummel New Orleans?

2. Religions provide meaning to life. Religion provides answers for what is the purpose of life and what happens when we die. Religions are a vehicle for passing along the wisdom from past generations from hundreds and thousands of years ago.

3. Religion helps humans build community and encourages cooperation among those who believe. Religious belief also helps people develop self-discipline. Unfortunately, religions also have been used to define who is in a community and who is not, and this has led to a lot of harm and even wars

Beyond all these macro reasons, religion is experienced at the individual level. An individual prays and receive comfort and answers and feels a larger entity cares about them. Their faith gives them a purpose. They have a community that is meaningful in their lives. This is part of the truth of their lived experience and can't be easily quantified. It's what makes religion still relevant in the lives of many people today

[afatlotofchance]

The Traditional "Burst-your-Gut" European Calendar

The Traditional Burst-Your-Gut European Calendar!

One of my various subjects of interest includes holidays and festivals – mostly of folkloric nature. And Europe is certainly filled to the brim with them, ranging from remnants of religions of Antiquity, to neo-pagan recreation of holidays that maybe never existed, passing by “folk-Christian” celebrations taking back Christian rituals to a more… “pagan” flavor).

And given one of my other big passions is weight gain and stuffing, I thought why not ally the two? More specifically, the idea behind this whole research was inspired by this joke running around of the “weight gain season” in the United-States, centered around the most fattening holidays of the calendar, all piled up at the end of the year: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, an infernal group that ruins everybody’s figure and prompts some slimming down New Year resolutions. A Franco-Chinese famous Youtuber talked of a similar alignment, in videos covering his weight gain and successful diets – he explained that he almost got “destroyed” at the beginning of one of his diet by the cumulation of Christmas, New Year celebrations AND Chinese New Year meals.

All of that made me think about how there are these alignments and series of very-fattening, stuff-your-face holidays, and as I was doing research on old French society, and European folklore, and old England, and whatnot, I collected information, elements and other stuff here and there that explained the origin of these “fattening festivals” as well as presented to me the existence of an entire year-system centered around basically gorging yourself on given dates. I already evoked this briefly in my previous posts, but I want to fully and completely talk about this subject here. And this is why this post is called “The Traditional Burst-Your-Gut European Calendar”. I will focus here mainly on medieval and Renaissance Europe, when this “fattening calendar” was created – and while this exact system was modified and changed past Renaissance and into modern age, the very reason we have today collections of fattening holidays is the existence of this ancient year division and celebration system.

This can be just your random informative post about European culture and history. It can be an inspiration if you want to write gaining stories or make fat art inspired by some folkloric or medieval stuff, I don’t know. You might also completely skip it if you want – I know very well people in the kink circles aren’t here to read crash-courses about medieval society. But hey, I like to talk about “scholarly” things while also talking about fattening up and intense stuffing, so, here I go!

[Oh yes and due to being more familiar with England and France of all European country, with a handful infos about Scandinavia and Germany thrown into the mix, I will focus mostly on Western Europe – though when we talk of European holidays and folklore, they tend to also apply, in variations, to Eastern European countries.]

I) Fat Tuesday, Blubbery Easter, and the diet Christians will NOT stick to

Chubby Easter, Gorging Christmas – and the binging-duality of old timey Europe

One of the “fattening holidays” most American tend to be familiar with, but often without knowing that it is a “fattening holiday” is the famous Mardi Gras. If you are from the USA, Mardi Gras will be for you the New-Orleans celebration – and it is quite interesting that Mardi Gras is so strongly associated with this city, where everybody who stays even just for a week gains at minimum five pounds thanks to how rich and fatty (but delicious) the food is. New-Orleans is one of those cities where you can get overweight pretty quickly if you are not careful, and it is quite fitting that its most famous celebration is actually going by a French name meaning… “Fat Tuesday”. Yep, the glamorous Mardi Gras just means “Fat Tuesday”.

You see, the Mardi Gras celebration originally comes from France (obviously), even though it was celebrated as “Fat Tuesday” or “Pancake Tuesday” in English-speaking countries. Fat Tuesday itself comes from the Carnival season, and the Carnival season comes from Lent, and Lent comes from Easter. So let’s start with Easter. Easter is part of those Christian holidays that were so widespread, so famous and so common they became secular, non-religious holidays shared by everybody (and massively commercialized by Americans). Easter is this springtime celebration of bunnies leaving chocolate eggs everywhere – and while not one of the “great fattening holidays” of America like Thanksgiving, it still gained there a strong “put on pounds” tradition, thanks to an overabundance of chocolate, candy, and dishes such as the Easter ham. But before all that, Easter was one of the two massive holidays of Catholicism, and by “massive” I mean, when it came to the religious calendar, there’s this two behemoth that are Easter and Christmas and form the two poles of the Christian year. Easter being the celebration of the resurrection of the Christ, while Christmas is the birth of Jesus.

A very important note before going forward: the calendar I will speak about here, the calendar by which most Western Europe worked during medieval and Renaissance times, is what we commonly refer to as “agro-liturgical calendar”. Aka it is an hybrid calendar that mixes the liturgical calendar, the year of the liturgy, the various religious celebrations and Christian holidays (since Christianity was the main religion dominating and shaping all Europe at the time, with Catholicism being ESPECIALLY dominant and present, so we’ll go with this flavor of Christian, Protestants can go away), and the agricultural calendar, aka the “natural year”, the various celebrations and holidays related to the seasonal changes and the fieldwork and the farmer’s life. The latter calendar was the one with the strongest “pagan” flavors, since it kept alive traditions and superstitions inherited from ancient religions and forgotten mythologies – and as the two mixed in everyday life, they forged this new “folk-Christian” calendar that was the basis of European culture and beliefs.

So, Easter. Easter was this big, big, very important event. And to prepare yourself for Easter, you need to be REALLY clean and pure, and to help you with that, a thing was invented – a thing commemorating the forty days Jesus Christ spent alone in the desert with no other company than the Devil trying to tempt him into turning rocks into bread, or whatever. This thing is called “Lent”, and it is a BIG European thing (in French “le Carême”). Lent was a forty-days long sequence preceding Easter, and during Lent you had to go on a very strict diet. A diet of everything. You had to limit your meals and food intake drastically so as to fast, but you also were prohibited from having any sex, in fact weddings were forbidden during Lent. It was a time where you just shut down your body and refuse all pleasures whatsoever – this is why in France an old-fashioned expression was “face de Carême”, “face of Lent”, to designate someone who liked skinny and pale. And if Lent was to help you prepare Easter, you were given an additional time period before that to prepare yourself for Lent, a little thing called Shrovetide. Except, where the Church planned for Shrovetide to be all spiritual preparation and good little planning for forty days of nothing in your plate, things got… a little wild.

Shrovetide became the time of the Carnival. THE original Carnival, the Carnival season, a time of wild amusement, savage fun, of misrule and chaos where everybody drank and sang and made dirty jokes and put on offensive disguises. People understood that Shrovetide was the last time they could have any kind of fun before Lent began, and so they went WILD with crazy parties, forming the Carnival time. And the last day of the Shrovetide, the last day before Lent began, Shrove Tuesday, became Fat Tuesday – Mardi Gras. The “fat” part comes from the fact that during Shrovetide/Carnival, people didn’t just ate, they GORGED. Given they wouldn’t be able to eat much for a very long time, people did excessive feasts and over-ate merrily as much as they could, especially on Fat Tuesday, which was a true belly-busting day. One of the specific parts of Lent was that any food deemed too “rich” was forbidden, so it meant that all meat, and all fat-related food (like butter, eggs or pastries) were prohibited during Lent. As a result, during the Carnival, fat was in every plate, and you had tons of greasy meats and deep-fried pastries and so on – hence the “Fat” part of “Fat Tuesday”. Shrovetide became really all about putting on pounds before the “forced hibernation” of Lent. In fact, the more common name of Shrovetide was “Fat Week” or “The Seven Fat Days”, as “Fat Tuesday” was merely the last of the “fat” days, preceded by Fat Monday, Fat Sunday, Fat Saturday, etc…

In return, the same way people got wild before Lent, before also got wild AFTER Lent. If you think Easter is a sinful feast of food today, oh boy, you can’t imagine what it was before! As the Easter celebrations rolled in, people could once again eat all their meat and all their fat and all their pastries, and so Easter was yet again a feast of large meals – though, due to the very religious nature of Easter, it never ended up being as debauched and revelry-prone as Carnival/Fat Tuesday. But it was still a day all about eating a lot of the best and most fattening food.

What is quite funny is that, even though Lent was harshly respected during the Middle-Ages, by the Renaissance (at least in France, I don’t know for other countries), people got a bit more lenient towards it, and decided to had one more “Carnival day” to “break down” Lent into two, so it would be a bit more bearable. So, right in the middle of the forty days, a celebration called “Mi-Carême”, “Half-Lent”, was created, which was a twin of Fat Tuesday, right in the middle of Lent. Officially, the explanation was that on Fat Tuesday men tended to do a lot of favors, gifts and promises to women, and so Half-Lent was created so that women could return them the favors (and indeed in France, the Mi-Carême celebrations are dominated by female figures and female participants), but researchers agree that the true reason Mid-Lent was created was probably because, since eggs turned bad beyond twenty days, people realized they couldn’t stock them before Lent and reuse them by Easter, and to avoid ending up with a bunch of wasted rotten egg, came up with this holiday.

The most interesting thing for us, however, is that it means that traditionally, Lent was actually a time where you had to feast and gorge yourself on greasy and fatty food three times in a row – before Lent, mid-Lent and after Lent. To tell you about the strong presence of the Carnival vs Lent in European spirits, I will direct you towards a very recurring motif throughout medieval and Renaissance art: a motif known as the “Battle of Lent and Carnival” or “The Fight between Lent and Fat Tuesday”. These paintings and drawings typically embody Carnival or Fat Tuesday as a male and fat, jolly, chaotic, drunkard entity, while Lent becomes a female, skinny, elderly and austere figure. One of the most famous variations of this theme was done by Pieter Brueghel the Elder: it is his painting, “The Battle of Carnival and Lent” (in French it has such a nice tone, Carnaval et Carême). At the forefront of this painting you can see the two embodiments, the obese, red-faced Carnival riding a beer barrel and holding a food-covered spear, opposing the thin and sickly Lent on an uncomfortable chair. Behind Carnival, bizarrely-attired and strangely-masked fools come out from an inn, while behind Lent dark nuns walk out of the shadow of a church, surrounded by hungry beggars and children. All is told.

II) Chubby Christmas, winter weight, and the binging-duality of old Europe

I talked before of how Easter was alongside Christmas one of the two big holidays of the European Christian calendar. Well then, let’s talk about Christmas!

Christmas which truly formed with Easter a complete parallel back in the days. Birth and rebirth, one for the “bright” season, summery part of the year, the other for the “dark” and wintery half of the year, AND both preceded by a time of preparation. Lent for Easter, Advent for Christmas… Let’s stick to Advent. Nowadays, we all know the “Advent Calendar”, which is about having a little chocolate or candy every day of the December month until the fateful 25th. The Advent period became a period of waiting-and-snacking. Interestingly enough, this couldn’t be further from what the Advent originally was. While everybody in Europe still remembers Lent, because it was still in practice up to the 20th century, people actually completely forgot that there was a twin to Lent… a winter Lent, a Nativity fasting, and this was the Advent.

Yep, the Advent was originally a forty-days period of full abstinence of all bodily pleasures (so no sex, and lot of fasting) to prepare yourself for Christmas. And do you know what this meant? It meant that, just like with Lent, people went NUTS and gluttonous at both ends of the Advent. The gluttonous nature of Christmas in old Europe stayed prevalent still until today. Good old jolly Santa Claus is the inheritor of the overweight, paunchy giant Father Christmas. Up to the 19th century there were caricatures and illustrations of fat people gorging on enormous Christmas meals. Even today Christmas is one of the most dreaded periods for people who want to stay slim or lose weight, as it is all about eating enormous feasts. So people did went wild once the Advent was over.

But what about before the Advent? Was there some “fattening holiday” equivalent to Mardi Gras? Well, technically yes, even though it isn’t very well-known today. It was the holiday (or feast day) of saint Martin. Aka, Martinmas. Also known sometimes as the “Old Halloween”. Martinmas, the day of saint Martin, was a celebration that corresponded to the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. As a result, it mixed the unconscious need to put on pounds for the dark season with the typical festivities of any “harvest festival”. Martinmas was mostly celebrated in England and in Germanic countries of Europe, and it involved 1) tasting the new wine of the season (and getting drunk on it), 2) feasting on the nicely fattened up and recently slaughtered cattle (in Germanic countries, the main course of Martinmas is Martin’s fattened and roasted goose, whereas in England it is rather Martin’s greasy beef) and 3) giving lots of treats, cakes, nuts and apples to children. The latter part is why Martinmas was called “Old Halloween”, because it was a Christianized form of many Halloween traditions – kids wandered with lanterns made out of beets, and saint Martin was supposed to give them lots of candies and sweets in exchange.

What is much more interesting, in relation to Christmas, is the fact that the Christmas belly-bursting did NOT stop at just Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Oh, no! Ever heard of the “Twelve Days of Christmas”? Yeah, well it wasn’t just about giving gifts to someone you like and singing silly songs. Oh no. The Twelve Days of Christmas were a full festival to themselves (and in European folklore you will find many ghosts, monsters, fairies and spirits manifesting themselves during the “Twelve Nights”, considered magical and supernatural) – and in England especially, the Twelve Days were supposed to be all around feasting, merriment and fun, a Carnival-time under the command of the Lord of Misrule. Beginning with Christmas Eve, each day was about more dancing and singing, more drinking, and especially more eating, until it all culminated into the Twelfth Night. Nowadays, the Twelfth Night is mostly known in Christian countries as the Epiphany – you know, Epiphany? The Feast of the Wise Men? The Day of the Three Kings? The holiday where three old men supposedly gave gifts to baby Jesus, and where people eat a special cake and the one who bites onto a little statue is crowned king or queen of the day? That’s the one. Well originally it was basically the wintery equivalent of Mardi Gras, and the culmination of the Twelve Days. The Epiphany “Christmasy” connotations can still be found in Spanish-speaking countries – in Spain for example, the Epiphany is actually the local “Christmas” and the time where people stuff themselves on large meals and pound-putting pastries, while kids receive gifts from supernatural elderly male figures. To use a literary reference, the famous play “Twelfth Night” by Shakespeare has a character designed to embody the spirit of the Twelve Days: Sir Toby Belch, an eccentric, comical and hedonistic man all about making jokes, drinking and eating (hence his name), and truly being a living “Lord of Misrule”.

But if you think the Christmas season ends with the Epiphany, think again! The Epiphany is merely the end of the intense festivities of the Twelve Days (or Twelve Nights). The actual Christmas season, or Christmastide, only comes to a stop much later, to a day that is commonly known as Candlemas. Candlemas is technically supposed to be the Christian holiday of “Jesus being presented at the Temple”, but in truth, let’s be honest, it was just a cover-up by the Church in an attempt to bury the pagan festivities around this time (the Roman Lupercalia, the Celtic Imbolc, and others). Candlemas is not very well-known in the English world today, but it is still a very famous holiday in French-speaking countries, as the Chandeleur, and it does has its food theme, since Chandeleur is the official day of eating crêpes (a French dish that Americans insulting translate as “pancakes” even though crêpes are completely different).

So, in conclusion we have a true duality in this year. On one side, you have the “Lent season”, with the Fat Days of Shrovetide, and Fat Tuesday, as an opening, and the Easter feasts as a closing (plus the Mid-Lent) ; on the other, you have the whole Christmas season, from Saint Martin’s Day, to the Twelve Nights, to the Epiphany and Candlemas. Between those two intense periods alternating between extreme fasting and binging overeating, life returned to a “regular” rhythm. But here’s the twist: the Church was quite intelligent, and didn’t chose to have Lent and the Advent at just any random dates, oh no!

Lent and the Advent, as forty-days periods of fasting, actually corresponded to the times of the year where the food stocks were at their lowest, and there was no new harvest in sight. It was during those specific times (mid February to March ; and November to mid-December) that famines were the most likely to actually appear. As a result, the Church placed these fasting periods there, choosing carefully the times where people would suffer the most from hunger and lack, but giving them an actual reason and a sense of holiness for their starvation. Of course, the result was far from perfect, given it resulted in the very unhealthy behavior of starving yourself forty days between two week-long sessions of overeating, but old times were never healthy to begin with…

III) Other food seasons

Beyond those two “gorging times”, were there other “belly-bursting seasons” in this calendar?

Well… Not really. Usually the three main poles when it came to folkloric and social celebrations in old Europe were the springtime celebrations (Easter for example, but also May Day), the winter celebrations (Christmas and New Year) and the midsummer celebrations (Midsummer, Midsummer’s Eve, Walpurgis Night, etc…). While we saw above that two of these poles had their overeating (springtime and winter), the Midsummer celebrations never really were much about eating… They were more about dancing in the wilds, drinking a lot of alcohol, jumping over bonfires, picking up magical herbs, fearing witchcraft, and the like. In the Christian calendar, there is also a third very important era, beyond the Easter-centric and Christmas-centric periods – it is the time slot beginning with the Feast of the Annunciation, and ending with the Pentecost. But again, there was no big food-focus there, so we’ll put that aside.

What I can add however to this calendar is a certain focus given to harvest celebrations and harvest festivals. For example, let’s take a little look at the “quarter days”. In the British Isles, the year was usually regulated around four important celebrations. These are a leftover of the four main Celtic holidays, which were Imbolc, Beltaine, Lughnasad and Samhain, but it was all Christianized and the result goes as such: Lady Day (the feast of the Annunciation), Midsummer Day, Michaelmas and Christmas. At least, that’s the English version – in Scotland they rather go, Martinmas, Candlemas, Whitsunday (Pentecost) and Lammas. The Scottish divide does recut onto a secondary system to the English one, called the “cross-quarter days”, aka four intercalary celebrations to be placed between the four quarter days. These are Candlemas, May Day, Lammas and All Hallows.

Long story short, what am I trying to say with all that? Well I am trying to say that there is a sort of additional period of food-and-eating related celebrations around the “end of the harvest”, the “closure of the harvest season”. Basically, harvest festivals. I talked about Martinmas before, which was indeed a feast marking the end of the harvest and the opening of winter – but in the same line of thought, the holiday of Michaelmas can be evoked. Michaelmas, originally the day of Saint Michael, aka Archangel Michael, was then extended as the day of “Michael, Raphael and Gabriel”, or as the “day of Archangels” or as the “day of Michael and all the Angels”. All in all, for the Church it is an angel-celebrating day, but in a more down-to-earth approach, it was a harvest festival, marking the end of the harvest. As a result, Michaelmas in the British Isles for example is a day where you eat a roasted goose, special bannock cakes, big heaps of blackberry pies, lots of nuts, and all sorts of other goodies to make a rich and heavy meal celebrating your efforts in the fields. To Martinmas and Michaelmas I will add a third tradition, a purely English celebration: Lammas, also known as the Loaf Mass Day, which is another harvest festival, this time supposed to celebrate the “first fruits” of the harvest, as well as the “first loaf”. Whereas Michaelmas marks the end of the harvest, and Martinmas the arrival of the dark wintery season, Lammas is all about people starting to reap what they sow, and it opens a “season of plenty and abundance” (Lammas is in the beginning of August, while Michaelmas is in September and Martinmas early November). So, technically speaking, there is a sort of “harvest festival” season that could be added to our belly-filling calendar.

And of course, this season overlaps with another series of holidays I have to mention, and that I briefly talked about above: Allhallowstide. Aka, the Hallows celebrations, of which the most famous to this day is without a doubt Halloween. Halloween, All Hallows’ Eve, aka the Eve of All Saints Day, needs no presentation as THE holiday of candies and sugary treats, as well as of apple and pumpkin based foods. What people tend to forget is that in Europe, the Halloween candies were associated with another cake-filled day. I am not speaking of All Hallows/All Saints Day, because there wasn’t much to say there, but I am speaking about All Souls Day, happening on the 2nd of November (right after All Hallows Day). All Souls Day is the European “ancestor” of the South-and-Central American Day of the Dead, for example, as it is a Catholic holiday all about celebrating the dead and visiting graveyards. But All Souls Day had a specific tradition confused and fused with the trick-or-treating of Halloween, called “souling”. It was originally about giving special “soul cakes” to the poor and the beggars, so that they would pray for the souls of those stuck in purgatory (or something like that), but it then became more of a trick-or-treat situation where kids performed songs and entertainment for people, in exchange for good amounts of yummy soul cakes to eat. Not really “belly-bursting”, but it deserves a mention alongside Halloween (and Martinmas) as this time of the year, at the beginning of November, where kids end up overstuffed with candy and sweets.

In fact, it is very interesting to note that while the Carnival is attached to the Lent season, and the Twelve Days of Christmas have a Carnival-nature to them, in some countries and regions of Europe, the Carnival is not a beginning of the year matter, but rather an END of the year matter, and thus they can actually start at either All Hallows Day, or around Martinmas, turning these November/Autumn holidays into masked revelries and belly-bursting debaucheries, just like the rest…

What is a quite interesting, and will serve as my conclusion here, is that the two main opposite Carnival seasons, the Lent one and Christmas one, actually form only one big season in some time eras and countries. Because you see… Some chose to have the Carnival season start at Candlemas. Meaning that right as the Christmas season ends, people threw themselves into the mad parties of the Carnival in prevision of Fat Tuesday… Imagine, stuffing yourself all throughout autumn to spring, only resting for a brief summer and beginning it all over again. Of course we have to forget the whole nasty things of the past such as the famines of old – but just extrapolating those celebrations and literal feast days, and projecting them onto a new, gaining-designed calendar…

Hey, that’s something I might do for fun!