#been there done that about NOLA

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

the speed at which whatever part of my subconscious dictates the hyper fixation dropped IWTV the moment I discovered True Detective truly makes me wonder if deep down I'm just somehow horny for like. Louisiana.

[hischiershoe]

“platonic sleepovers that somehow ends up with you waking up with their arms around you” & “sharing each other’s clothes (especially hoodies)” with nico <33

this was a teensy bit longer (1.9k words) than I meant but I hope you like it!

You'd known Nico for a few years, having met through a mutual friend back when you first moved to Jersey. The two of you hit it off so well that first meeting, that you ended up seeing him the following afternoon for lunch. From then on, he was one of your closest friends and someone you could always count on no matter what was going on. He was also someone you developed a not so tiny crush on, but of course, he didn't know that, and he never would.

More often than not, you'd find yourself at Nico's apartment when your schedule aligned with his, and tonight was no different. He had called you in the morning, asking you the same thing he always did before he was inviting you over in the evening for a small hangout with him and a few of his teammates. When you got off the phone with him, you'd spent the rest of your day thinking about him, which wasn't all that out of the ordinary anyway. He was always on your mind.

By the time you got to his place, your thoughts had slowed down enough that you were able to box your feelings up under lock and key and just be normal. Though, if you were being honest, you weren't entirely sure you were all that convincing based on the knowing looks from Nola or the subtle comments from Timo. Despite that, you just hoped that Nico was oblivious to their teasing and didn't suspect a thing.

"It's really coming down out there," Nico calls out to no one in particular as he stands by the window, "I don't think you guys should drive home in this."

"I don't think so either," Jonas agrees, moving from his spot on the couch to stand next to him, "It's supposed to get worse the next couple of hours."

You exchange glances with the girl to your left, and she was sporting the most smug smirk you had ever seen on anyone before. Your eyes widened in her direction, your face warming at her silent implication before you tore your eyes from her and stared at the ground. Usually, if you were going to sleep at Nico’s, you would take over the guest bedroom, but you couldn't exactly do that if Nola and Jonas had to stay over.

"You guys can stay here," Nico firmly states, looking over his shoulder to look at you, "You two can have the guest bed."

"I'll sleep on the couch," Timo chimes in, pressing his body further into the cushions.

"Timo, you live in this building," You point out, playfully raising your eyebrows at him, "You can just go back home. Besides, I'm taking the couch."

"No, you're not," Nico rushes out embarrassingly fast, earning the attention of everyone in the room. He clears his throat, avoiding the mischievous looks in his friend's eyes before he continues, "I can sleep on the couch. You can take my bed."

You quickly shake your head, rising to your feet and taking a few steps towards him as the others fade into the background, "I'm not taking your bed. I can sleep on the couch. I've done it before, it's pretty comfortable."

Neither of you hear Timo slip out the front door, or the couple tiptoe down the hall as the two of you bicker with each other about your sleeping arrangement. Nico isn't taking no for an answer, and neither are you, but eventually, the two of you settle on sharing Nico's bed. As friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. Friends share beds all the time, right?

As you follow Nico towards his room, you can barely hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears and your heart pounding in your chest. This was new territory for you. You knew this didn't mean anything to him, that he was just being the amazing friend that he is, but it made your entire world spin.

You'd been in Nico's room before, plenty of times, but it was always under far different circumstances. You stood near the end of the bed, watching as he shuffled the pillows around and adjusted the blanket so it was spread out evenly. It was impossible not to watch the way his biceps flexed with each movement, making your cheeks grow warm and your palms sweaty as you tried to shake away the images that flashed in your mind. You shouldn't be thinking that way about him, especially not right before the two of you sleep in the same bed.

When he was finished moving everything around, he shifted his focus to you, and he could see the apprehension clearly written on your face. He could see it in the way you furrowed your brows, in the way you were chewing at your lip, and in the way you were fiddling with your fingers. He couldn't help but think you only agreed to share his bed because you felt like you had to, and it made a small piece of his heart crack because he wanted to. He wanted to be close to you.

"Do you want to borrow a hoodie? I know you get cold in your sleep," He gently suggests as he carefully approaches you, his dark eyes shining even in the dimly lit bedroom.

"I do," You meekly murmur, holding his gaze for no longer than a second.

You hear him pad towards his dresser and pull open one of the drawers, but you don't move. You stay planted in your spot, unsure if you were supposed to take your side of the bed or wait for him to go first. It was silly; How nervous you were over something as simple as getting into a bed. But with Nico, everything was so much more than it seemed. At least for you it was.

"Here, you can wear this one," He called out from beside you, gingerly handing you the hoodie you always jokingly said you were going to steal one day, "I don't expect to see it again, though."

The light airiness to his tone made you relax as you playfully smack his chest before grasping at the fabric in his hand. His fingers brush against your own, sending a wave of electricity across every inch of your skin. You attempt to cover up your bashful reaction by promptly throwing the hoodie on and hurrying over to the nightstand to plug your phone in. The last thing you wanted was for you veil of normalcy to call and for him to see just the effect he had on you.

"Hey," Nico nervously calls out your name, forcing your attention back to him. He was hovering on the other side of the mattress, one of his hands nervously rubbing at the nape of his neck, "I think I'm going to go ahead and sleep on the couch, so you can have your space."

"No," You protest a bit too loudly, and you suddenly remember the couple across the hall from you. You know Nola’s going to tease you to no end when she finds out about this, "I told you, you're not sleeping on the couch in your home. If this makes you more uncomfortable, I'll go out there an-"

"It's not that," He swiftly interrupts, wanting nothing more than to reach over his bed and pull you into his chest, but he doesn't, "I only want you to be comfortable."

"I am," You affirm through a shaky breath, not able to break away from his piercing gaze, "I promise, I am."

"Good," He delicately breathes out, "Let's sleep then."

You slip underneath the blanket, making sure that you leave enough space between the two of you so you don't accidentally brush against him. As you're shifting in an attempt to get comfortable, Nico switches the lamp off and you welcome the darkness that envelopes you. Now, Nico won't be able to see how nauseatingly nervous you are, and you won't be distracted by his arms or the dimples that indented his cheeks.

Once you finally settle yourself in a way you like, you try and will yourself to sleep by squeezing your eyes shut, but the soft sounds of his breathing makes it hard. It makes you hyper aware that the very guy you’d practically fallen in love with was less than two feet away and under the same blanket as you. It makes it almost impossible to calm your mind, to let your brain relax enough so that you can sleep.

“Goodnight,” Nico softly mumbles, and you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your hip, but the touch was gone almost as soon as it came.

“Goodnight, Nico.”

When you wake up the next morning, you instantly pick up on the slightly uncomfortable feeling of an arm under your head, and the weight of another on your waist, keeping you pressed against the chest of the man who was just occupying your dreams. Your legs were tangled with Nico’s in a way that made it hard to tell where your body ended and his began. You weren’t entirely sure when the two of you ended up in this position, but you weren’t necessarily going to complain either. However, you knew if you stayed like this for too long, you’d let yourself grow hopeful for something that was never there.

“Nico, wake up,” You carefully nudge him, slightly wriggling under his hold, “Wake up.”

You feel him stir behind you before his fingers sre slightly pressing into your hip, his hold on you tightening as he mumbles, “Stop moving like that.”

If you thought you were flustered before, it was absolutely nothing compared to how you were feeling now. Your entire body heated up in embarrassment as a slew of apologies tumbled from your mouth, but Nico doesn’t let up his grip enough to let you move. He keeps you slotted against him, his breath fanning against your ear as your shudder under his touch.

“Nico” You swallow thickly, “What are you doing?”

“Holding you,” He plainly states, “While I can.”

There goes that flame of hope flickering again, but this time he’s fanning it on his own.

“What do you mean,” You hesitantly ask, eyes fluttering closed as you slowly let yourself back into the moment.

“Before we’re just friends again.”

“Why do you so sound disappointed,” You test, your hand subconsciously grasping at his arm to keep yourself grounded.

“Because I want to be more,” He shakily admits as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, worried that he just ruined the best thing he’d ever had, but there was no going back now.

The flame was a full blown fire now and it was burning so brightly that it was almost blinding. The last thing you expected was to wake up in Nico’s arms, let alone him telling you that he wanted to be more than friends. It was overwhelming, dizzying, in all the best ways.

“Do you really,” You weakly whisper, slowly turning around that so you were facing him.

His eyes were still hooded from sleep, but they were still dancing across your face like he was trying to commit it to memory. He gently brings his hand up to your face, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen in your eyes before he cradled your jaw in his palm. The pad of thumb caresses the apex of your cheek as you peer up at him, gaze wide and pliant, waiting for him to say something.

“I do,” He reassures, the corners of his mouth twitching as he carefully brushes his finger over your lips, “I want to be as much as you’ll let me be.”

“I want you to be everything.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

40-22

See Me Through You Fic

Synopsis: You and your husband watch the Super Bowl along with your best friends in NOLA

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Seeing as Joe was doing a press run the week leading up to the Super Bowl in New Orleans, you decided that the two of you should have a party for it at your new house that Joe had surprised you with as a Christmas gift. A party that would literally only be your best friends, but still a party nonetheless. He had noticed that you were missing being in Louisiana more than usual and it had actually been in the works for him to buy it since the beginning of last year.

In order to get your input without actually telling you about it, he would show you different pictures that the designer was sending Joe and as soon as you had given him the approval, everything was a go.

This was your first time actually seeing the house in person and you immediately fell in love. There was a hallway leading to what would be considered the man cave of the house and the walls were decorated with pictures of both you and Joe at your time at LSU. Seeing this definitely made a few tears slip out that you of course blamed on your hormones being all over the place.

Ja'Marr and Justin of course wanted to see the house and essentially invited themselves over, even though they were going to be invited anyway. You had sent a quick text to Erin and Alisha to see if they were free and they of course said yes to be able to spend time with you.

Joe told you that he could order food so that the two of you didn't have to cook and he didn't want you to be on your feet for a long period of time.

Of course he was met with resistance from you since cooking was one of your many love languages the last thing he wanted was an argument to come out of it. He knew once you made up your mind about something that it was the end of the conversation. But if it was something that he was dead set on not letting go, he had no problem letting you know how he felt. But for now, he would just help you with what you decided to make and make sure you got breaks in between.

As you were making your famous chili cheese dip that you knew was going to go in less than ten minutes, Joe had just finished seasoning the wings and was about to put them in the oven.

He had come up behind you and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on top of your head.

“You okay? And are my other two babies okay?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“Yes, babe. I told you that I'm fine. And they're fine too.” You replied and gave him a small smile before he gently moved you to the side to open the oven.

“As soon as we're done, you need to sit down and put your feet up so they don't swell.”

“Yes, Doctor Burrow.”

“Princess, I'm serious.”

“I know, I know and I promise I will. Just have one more thing to make and then I'll sit.” You replied as you reached up to kiss him.

“What else do you need help with so I can make this go faster?”

“They’re just cheesesteak sliders, but if you can start cutting up everything that would be helpful.”

“On it.”

When all of the food was done, Justin was already in the kitchen so you told him to come and get his plate so that way you could sit down yourself.

“Justin, it’s hot on the bottom, take the sides of it.” You told him as he was reaching for it.

“Uh huh.” He replied as he was still looking at the television and not at you.

“Don't touch the bottom. It's hot, move your hand away from it.”

Justin once again nodded and you decided since he wasn’t going to listen to just let him learn the hard way.

“Ow! DAMN, THAT’S HOT.”

“I know and I told your stupid ass two times not to touch the bottom, but you were so interested in looking at the TV instead. And you better not break my damn plate either.”

“Joe! Your wife was nicer before you got her pregnant!” Justin yelled towards him and Joe looked at him confused.

“Says who!?” Ja’Marr asked as he immediately chimed in and you gave them both a death glare.

“No, Justin, you just like to do stupid shit.” Joe shot back and Ja'Marr stifled a laugh.

“Next time I'm not cooking shit for yall. I can't even see my damn feet and they're probably swollen and I'm stressed because I'll have to probably call 911 messing with both of you. Justin, take this plate and get out my face. IMMEDIATELY.”

“But we didn't ask you to cook since I…”

“Ja’Marr keep talking and I'm going to make sure the next time I cook for you will be at your funeral.”

Ja’Marr immediately threw his hands up in defense as you went to sit down while everyone fixed their plate.

“Damn that food is about to be good as shit. Baby, can I request meatballs?” Joe asked you and you stifled a laugh.

“SERIOUSLY?” Ja’Marr asked Joe as he shrugged.

“No, Joe you got it backwards. It's funeral chicken and baby shower meatballs.” Erin told him while laughing and Ja’Marr made a face at her.

“Not you encouraging his nonsense….”

“Well Erin come through with the meatballs for our baby shower.” Joe told her and she quickly agreed.

“All you had to do was say the word. Consider it done.”

“So, no one is going to mention how my twin is planning my funeral?” Ja’Marr asked the entire room and everyone gave him a blank stare.

“No.” Everyone replied and you couldn't help but to laugh.

“She’s older and she's pregnant? Yeah, not getting into that one.”

“Some friends yall are.”

The game was just starting and Joe told you to sit down while he fixed your plate for you. He made sure you were comfortable with your multiple pregnancy pillows and put your feet up for you.

“The Eagles have one damn job and if they don't come through, I will RIOT.” Alisha said as she sat to the left of you while Erin was on your right.

“You and me both.” You told her as you turned up the volume.

It was during the second quarter when you suddenly got bored. The Chiefs were playing like they had never seen a football before in their lives and you honestly couldn't believe what you were seeing.

“Are they really serious right now?” Justin said out loud and in disbelief.

“Apparently they are.”

“I told yall that they aren't as good as everyone thinks they are. Because they are playing like straight ass.” Alisha added and everyone couldn't help but to laugh.

“Jalen is cute.” Erin said and you gave her a small smirk.

“AHT! Princess, wipe that smirk off your face!” Joe said and you held your hands up in defense.

“But I…”

“Nope, don't even try it. I saw it.”

“I only have eyes for you and you know that! Last time I checked I am pregnant with YOUR children."

"Mm hmm. Sure."

"Such a big ass baby." You quietly said, but he still heard you.

"Want to repeat that Mrs. Burrow?"

"Nope, I'm good." You replied while taking a sip of your lemonade while both Erin and Alisha laughed.

“As I was saying before, Joe rudely interrupted. Have you seen the entire team!? It's a TRAIN. And I wouldn't get off until I had a taste of the entire roster.” Alisha exclaimed, and you couldn't help but to laugh.

"Alisha, I heard that." Joe said, and she held her hands up and acted as if she didn't know what he was talking about.

“You know that there's 52 people on the roster, right?” You asked her and she immediately nodded her head.

“Like I said before, it's a train.”

Joe was on his second plate of food and focused on the game when you decided to send him a text.

Wifey- Baby, I'm bored.

Joey- You don't want to watch the game?

Wifey- Yes, but at this point I want it to be halftime. But in the meantime could you do something for me?

Joey- Of course baby. What do you need?

Wifey- For you to put your dick inside me

As soon as Joe read the text, his eyes went wide and he glanced at you with a smirk on his face as he bit his lip.

Joey- We have seven minutes until halftime

Wifey- I'm not missing Kendrick so we have to do it now

Joey- Go upstairs and I need to teach you a lesson for having a smirk on your face about that quarterback who ISN’T me

Wifey- So dramatic as usual. Just like a Sagittarius. Smh.

Joey- Just you wait until I get you alone

Once you got up, Joe was following your lead and Ja’Marr suddenly made a face at both of you.

“Where yall going?”

"Just going to the bathroom." You told him, but looked at you confused.

"And taking your husband with you?"

"Look Ja’Marr! My whole body is swollen and I can't see past my boobs!" You exclaimed as you crossed your arms and continued walking towards the stars as Joe stifled a laugh.

“Those things are going to be Z cups by the time the twins get here.” Alisha said without hesitation.

"So, you don't know where your vagina is located anymore?"

“Ja'Marr, if your twin wants to get her cheeks clapped by her husband who has clearly done it multiple times before since she's pregnant, that's her business. That's obviously where they're going.” Erin told him and he made a gagging noise.

"Bam Bam, keep talking and I will choke you.”

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

"Unless you're volunteering to wipe my ass, baby brother. By all means, come on.”

“NO! I'm good!”

“That's what I thought and that's why you need to mind your damn business.”

“You're my twin so you are my business.”

By this time, you had reached the top step and rolled your eyes before you responded to him.

“Leave me alone, Ja'Marr!”

“Never going to happen!”

As you entered your bedroom, you were attempting to walk towards the bed before Joe tugged your arm in another direction.

“If I take you on the bed, you know for a fact we'll be up here for the rest of the game and you are entirely too loud. No offense, princess.”

“Hmm, good point. Bathroom it is. And if Ja’Marr would have minded his business we would have been up here sooner! We have like 4 minutes now.”

“Then stop talking and let me take care of my wife.” Joe told you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

As you were coming down the steps, Erin was grinning and wiggling her eyebrows at you and you instantly laughed at her.

“Nasty ass fuckers. Couldn't have even waited until we left.”

“I seriously went to the bathroom, dumbass!” You replied as you took your rightful seat in between your best friends just in time to see Kendrick come on the screen when Alisha leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“I know that white boy be turning you every way but loose.”

You tried so hard to keep a straight face but failed miserably as Ja'Marr shot you a look.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“You'll never learn, will you?” You asked and he shrugged his shoulders before turning back to the TV.

“Probably not. You know I'm nosey.”

“And no lie was told.”

It was now the third quarter when the Chiefs finally decided to score, which clearly still left everyone unimpressed.

“See that's what they asses get for making sure we didn't make it in the playoffs.” Ja’Marr muttered to your husband who quickly agreed with him.

“Look, I'm just happy that I don't have to look at Taylor Swift for four quarters.” Erin confessed with Alisha letting out a laugh.

“And her boyfriend has done absolutely nothing this entire game.” You added before getting up and sitting on Joe's lap.

You sat to the side so that you could put your head on his shoulder and your feet in Ja’Marr's lap who quickly protested.

“Why are these things on me?”

“So they don't swell. Help a pregnant lady out. And besides I fed you and you're in my house. And I just got a pedicure so leave me alone!”

“She has a point.” Joe said and he crossed his arms in response.

“My going rate for babysitting those two when they get here is 50 dollars. EACH.”

“BULLSHIT. We watch baby uno for FREE.” Joe exclaimed in response.

“Because he's a low maintenance baby! Yall kids are about to be spoiled as hell with big ass heads that look like Joe. That last sonogram picture was wild. Count on having a c-section.”

“HEY! MY HEAD IS NOT THAT BIG!”

“Keep telling yourself that, Shiesty.” Justin muttered and it took everything in you not to laugh. You turned away from Joe, but he could feel the vibration of your laugh since you were leaning against him.

“My own wife laughing about jokes about me, I see.”

“Um, pookie… have you seen your baby pictures? It's always been big.” You asked him and he turned up his nose.

“I…forget about that Birkin you wanted for Valentine’s Day.”

“Hold on! Wait! I take it back!”

“Nope. Damage is done. I'm sleeping in the guest room.”

“Okay Mr. Dramatic.”

“AYE! ANOTHER TOUCHDOWN!” Justin exclaimed as he raised his arms in excitement.

“Andy needs to whoop everybody's ass on that field.”

“I think the Eagles got him covered in that department.”

“No 3 peat is happening at this point.”

It was now the final seconds of the fourth quarter and it was now set in stone that the Eagles had won. They were interviewing Jalen when a thought popped up in your head.

"I can not believe they got their ass beat this bad. I feel like a curse has been lifted." Justin said, and you stifled a laugh.

“I expect everyone in this room that has an NFL contract to be in the super bowl next year. Do with that information what you will.” You said and all three of them looked at you.

“If the front office actually gets its shit together so we can keep everyone we need.” Joe said before rolling his eyes.

“Are we going to make bets? I think we should.”

“Sure when the regular season starts, but my husband needs to take me to Disney World after he wins. And Ja’Marr is on babysitting duty.”

“Fine, 250 dollars an hour. EACH.”

"You must be out of your damn mind." Joe told him in response as he looked at him in disbelief while you were laughing.

[1-800-local-slut]

Elijah Mikaelson loves black women.

He loves their curly hair, he loves the different shades of brown of their eyes, he loves their dark lips and skin. He loves the way they go through life with a compassion and kindness that others don’t seem to have.

He loves when they call him “sugar” or “baby”. He loves when they feed him, he especially loves when they feed him. And since he’s returned to New Orleans he’s been very well fed by the city’s variety of restaurants.

He loves when he lays down on a silk pillow case and there’s you scratching his scalp and kissing his forehead. He loves when you get your nails done and show him excitedly. He loves when you tell him all about your favorite singers, how you like someone named Lil Wayne because he’s also from NOLA. He loves when you and your friends need a ride to the club and he gets to dance with you all night.

He loves when you try different lip glosses, with a dark brown lip liner that reminds him of brownies. He loves when it’s Summer, and you guys go to the pool. He’ll sit on the side, watching you tan (slightly amazed that you sparkle in the sun) and how you take care to slather him with sun screen even though he’s sure he doesn’t really need it.

He loves how you spend hours scrolling through Pinterest for different hair styles and show him. When you send him to the store because you’re still at classes and you can’t really just walk out of a lecture like “sorry sir, I’m braiding my hair after class so I’m just gonna take off early” so he gets to go.

He browses the aisles of products. The gels, the brushes, the oils, the bottles and body lotions. He never knew there could be so many different types of brushes. Even the wigs he’s enamored by, and he’ll admit there are a few particularly nice ones he’d kill to see you in.

When he goes to check out after selecting a thousand extra things he felt like he just wanted you to have and the bill comes out he doesn’t even worry a bout the price and just hands over the cash without even worrying about change.

He loves, loves the different things you can do with your hair too. He loves the different styles, the colors, how each thing you do helps it grow. Don’t even let him get started on when you have your natural hair out and free. He doesn’t even mind finding bits of your hair in his suit jackets or on the bathroom sink if you forgot to pick it up that morning.

He loves the niche things you do, that can only be explained as “a black people thing”. How you go through life with a sense of style that can only be found in certain areas. He loves how you laugh, smile, how you growl at him with anger when you get hangry or you see something stupid, how you carry yourself.

Elijah doesn’t particularly just love black women. He particularly loves you.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

I’d be lying if I said I knew what this was. I was watching the Originals and just realized he’s always laid up with a black woman. Anyways that’s my man guys 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

(Here’s a NSFW Drabble about Elijah)

[vertigoartgore]

Dan Panosian : For the Heroes Con Auction. Ink, Watercolor. 11"X15"

Dan Panosian : 9"X12" Pencil, Ink, Watercolor

"Most people aspire to be like Don Drapper. Not me. Don't get me wrong, Don is one cool cat - but for some reason I think Roger has things pretty well figured out. Does he make mistakes? Yes. Plenty. However the consequences don't seem to shake him much."

Bruce Lee said, "Be like water."

I say, "Be like Roger."

Dan Panosian : 8"X10" pencil, ink, copic marker and watercolor.

"Where would the men of Mad Men be without Peggy and Joan ?

Probably three sheets to the wind downing Old Fashions at some cocktail bar. Which is a wonderful place to be. But their businesses would have probably fallen apart. These women are anchors that no sailor would cast into the sea. Well, maybe a few might. But I'm losing focus here. Sorry."

Dan Panosian : "Had a great time at the Wizard show in NOLA and did two commissions. I'll upload better scans later but I took this picture with my iPhone. 

Mad Men is probably one of my all time favorite TV shows. Pan Am tried desperately to copy their success but couldn't manage to incorporate the subtle nuances. It's not just about the clothing. It's about the attitude. The quiet moments. Mad Men does everything right. It's about storytelling."

Dan Panosian : "Don Draper… He lives by his own peculiar code. Sometimes it serves him well and sometimes his whole world comes crashing down around him.

When he married Megan I think he may have bit off more than he can chew. Luckily for him it's a tasty bite."

Dan Panosian : "Recently I'm been seeing the Mad Men illustrations I've done pop up on some really cool websites -so I thought I would cook up another one ! It's one of my favorite TV shows - I can't get enough of it."

Dan Panosian : "Cad of Cads... One of my favorite Mad Men characters."

Dan Panosian : "Three scoundrels posing in a gentlemanly fashion. Sterling, Drapper and Campbell.

8.5"X11" Bristol Board, Ink, Zip-A-Tone"

Since I'm at the midpoint* in my Mad Men rewatch, here's some Mad Men sketchs by the talented comics artist Dan Panosian (2010s).

*The acclaimed "The Suitcase" episode is actually right in the middle of the show's entire 7 seasons run (46th episode out of a total of 92).

[savagewildnerness]

Let’s talk about truth, lies, morals and goodness in The Vampire Chronicles, especially with respect to Lestat and Louis.

OK, all of this is going to be off the top of my head, but chat around Lestat smacking Nicolas into a wall got me thinking on a topic that’s going to be a hot topic during season 3, particularly given the TV show IWTV so far has been all about “memory is the monster.”

First of all, I want to reiterate that Rolin has said that we’re done with that theme now.  However, I just know that whatever happens in S3, some things are going to be met with “Well I think/know Lestat is lying” in some corners.   And I am absolutely not saying Lestat always tells the truth.  Lestat himself says things such as that he only lies to those he loves and that he sometimes lies to himself. There are moments in the story where I don't believe Lestat (a controversial one being that I believe the book NOLA reunion is close to Louis' account and it is Lestat who denies it as his psyche cannot accept how Louis abandoned Lestat to what Louis thought was a mortal death here. I know many disagree with me. And as I see it, it is irrelevant to the TV show as for me the reasons Lestat has for denying this encounter do not exist on the TV show so it happened, Lestat won't deny it and we can be happy that the beauty of that scene in S2E8 is real with no needed debate.)

Anyway... the whole hitting Nicolas thing today indicates one area Lestat never lies about.  When Lestat has done something bad, he’s telling us.  He’s always telling us.  He’s never trying to hide it.  And depending on how much you like him or don’t, we as readers/listeners may or may not excuse different things he does, to different degrees.  And Lestat is 100% of the time asking us to do just that.  Because Lestat is deeply terrified he is evil.  He knows he has done evil things and bad things and that he has hurt not just strangers as his monster-self, but also humans and vampires he loves.  And so he shares when he hurts someone.  And in sharing, he is pleading with us “I did this.  Do you love me now?”  Lestat is never going to lie about that kind of thing, because he desperately needs literally any random stranger on the street to (ideally) say… “I see what you are, in fullness and I love you anyway.  You are worthy of love.  You can be good.”

Oooooh… I’m going to find Lestat’s own quote on the matter from The Vampire Lestat:  “By the time we left Italy I was playing dangerous little games with mortals. I'd see a man, or a woman -- a human being who looked perfect to me spiritually --  and I would follow the human about. Maybe for a week I'd do this, then a month, sometimes even longer than that. I'd fall in love with the being. I'd imagine friendship, conversation, intimacy that we could never have. In some magical and imaginary moment I would say: "But you see what I am," and this human being, in supreme spiritual understanding, would say: "Yes, I see. I understand." Nonsense, really. Very like the fairy tale where the princess gives her selfless love to the prince who is enchanted and he is himself again and the monster no more. Only in this dark fairy tale I would pass right into my mortal lover. We would become one being, and I would be flesh and blood again. Lovely idea, that.”

We, as ‘the reader’ literally would be unable to tell Lestat what he so desperately needs to hear if Lestat lied about or minimised the bad things he does or his negative actions.  He himself feels varying levels of guilt for different things.  But he tells us what he does that is bad. Obviously this was inspired by discussion of Lestat hitting Nicki. But he was provoked into that and while he describes that Nicolas can then take the moral high ground, just as he could with The Children of Darkness in that moment... because Nicki achieved what he wanted here... Lestat tells us way worse things he does than this: murder of the most innocent, rape of innocent humans, to his closest mortal friend... he runs the gamut and he tells us every thing he does. Which is not to minimise that Lestat does harm Nicolas. That is a thing that happened. Even though obviously vampires recover quickly from physical injury.

Lestat does lie though.  Lestat, the endurer was taught as a child that when he has big feelings, they are *too much*... Although he expresses his emotion readily, even by the person who loved him most of all, Gabrielle (who does validate some of Lestat's feelings and experience), he is taught - do not sit in your feelings. Especially do not dwell in existential feelings. Move away from enduring existential pain. Move into action.  Be practical.  Fight.  You are a fighter.  You will endure.  You are strong. 

And as such, Lestat lies when he feels utterly broken.  We see Lestat as an optimist so thoroughly, not because Lestat is internally 100% optimist, rather because he chooses to be an optimist.  Internally, Lestat is not as much an optimist as he appears to others.  We ought to know as we hear his existential crises all the time, from when he was a child. We know him from the inside out.  And so Lestat lies when he feels suicidal.  He minimises his own pain. He minimises psychological damage done unto him. 

Which is a distinction - Lestat does not minimise his emotion!  He’s happy to tell us he cries and of his joy and of the whole gamut of big and human expression.  But he minimises his pain. When he is psychologically damaged, it often isn’t even that he wants to lie.  It’s that he cannot allow that of himself and so he isn’t fully aware of it in himself. And Lestat does not minimise the physical or psychological pain he does unto others. He is well aware of it. And we don't need to deny that he does cause others pain as well, as of course he does. To love is to harm as well as to heal. Show me the person who has never hurt someone they loved (emotionally/psychologically. I don't mean physically) and I'll show you a true liar....!

I just want to put these thoughts out there.  Because when we get into season 3, I want it to be very clear exactly when and why Lestat might not tell the full truth. (Obviously with the concession that TV Lestat is his own being, but I feel like surely he'll retain his core self???)

Things are very different for Louis.  There’s a similarity, as Louis too is deeply terrified of not being good.  But unlike Lestat who presents every aspect of himself and says “Here is all I am.  See me.  Can you still love me?” Louis is so afraid of what he might be that he’s scared to look deeply inside himself in case he were to look inside himself and find true horror he could not cope with.  Of course Louis has been brought up with religion in a way where he believes that were he to look inside himself and find terrible enough things, God and he himself would know and Louis himself then would be unable to endure.  Louis doesn’t need that external validation.  He knows himself.

Because Louis is afraid to look deeply within himself, he is also afraid to look deeply within others.  Which is an interesting dichotomy as of course Louis is naturally empathetic and sensitive and thoughtful.  But for example in the book IWTV he makes a lot of assumptions about Lestat without thinking about Lestat’s internal experience at all.  And he’s happy to make those assumptions as if fact as he cannot bear to delve deeply and understand himself, let alone Lestat.  Louis needs to be good just as Lestat does, but Louis imposes external moral rules upon himself so he doesn’t have to think more deeply about who he is and can just feel good if he follows his rules (much like his religion imposes its rules.). This means that when we hear things that aren’t entirely true from Louis, they often seem more like lies.  But they’re never intentional lies.  And they’re often not even misremembering - they’re simply Louis afraid to look at the all of himself.  And happily, Louis has a beautiful soul, and so once he has been able to accept himself (and Louis is aware on some level of this aspect in himself by the time he gives his first interview; aware of his fears of acknowledging all of himself - so his journey has begun even then) he is deeply empathetic and can offer this to Lestat.

And happily, at the end of S2, Louis has reached this place of accepting and understanding himself. Which is much happier than the books, where it takes him longer to truly get there.

We can look at many other characters too - some who lie to themselves; some who fail to understand aspects of themselves; some who are literally incapable of a lie, sometimes to their own detriment or destruction, so it is absolutely not always a good thing.  Some who cannot know their self fully.  All who are damaged in some way.

I don’t know where I’m going with this now.  But I guess I just wanted to open a conversation about truth and lies and goodness and evil…?

I hope this may spark some more articulate thoughts in someone else…?

And obviously, all only just as I see things/my truth.

And I guess I'm also saying that how we recount events depends on our experience of them, yes. But humans lose much to memory in a way vampires do not. For good and for bad. To not remember everything protects us, as mortals. So is it any surprise that immortals, with vampiric-level memory, as all other senses, in order to endure eternity have to not look too deeply in some areas. Or else they simply couldn't go on...

OK, shut up me! But I am curious to hear anyone's thoughts here..???

[inkdemonapologist]

[BatIM Cthulhu] MORE CTHULHU SCRIBBLES, this time from session 4!! Here we have, uh,

The yellow fog that's taking over New York seems to be able to hijack people and make them think they're one of the characters from the King in Yellow play. Susie DID get brainwashed but we're unclear on whether the knife-twirling skills were there already. IT JUST WOULDNT SURPRISE ME, U KNOW?

AVEDONS HERE??????? If you don't remember Avedon i dont blame you, he last showed up back in seASON 2, in NOLA, where he lost his mind and locked Sammy and Jack in his closet at gunpoint and then started shooting the host at the masquerade party. He seems a little more sane this go round but everyone decided Sammy and Jack should not be in the welcoming party. Anyway sorry NYC is like this for your visit Avedon, I promise there's usually less dread carcosa

Sammy brought Prophet out to see if he could tell whether or not Peter is THE ONE THE PHANTOM SEEKS and Prophet decided to make sure he was getting an accurate reading by smooshing his hands all over Peter's face. Don't worry about it, Peter!! It's fine. Normal Sammy Behaviour.

And if you'd like some Out of Context quotes from our session, those are under the cut!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] *recapping* Joey tried to do some bullshit, and it, uh, made things worse! [GM] It got some attention, it seems! [Joey] EHhhhhhhhh, [Sammy] Yeah, he was doing his nonsense, and then the Phantom showed up because he was doing his nonsense -- [Joey] ehhhhhhhhhhh [Sammy] And then we hit the Phantom with Jack's car! A rational and reasonable response to the unknowable. [Jack] Joey MADE Jack hit the Phantom with his car. [Joey] EHHHHHHHHH, [Jack] Because Jack wouldn't do this on purpose. He likes his car! [Sammy] I think that's entirely reasonable. No reasonable person would have done this course of events.

[Sammy] What happens if you drive a car in Carcosa [Sammy] It's in the name, it should be a good place for cars... [Jack] It actually cancels out because there's two of them, so you just get "Cosa."

[Joey] One of the times, the Mercedes is going to be missing and it's not because of Yellow Sign stuff, it's just that someone finally stole it. [Sammy] Car gets its tires slashed, "THIS IS THE WORK OF THE YELLOW KING!!!"

[Jack] Even if it's safety glass, I feel like Jack doesn't want to sit in a bunch of glass! [Henry] Exfoliation. [Jack] ON HIS BUTT????

[Joey] Just venting about everything that has been happening, but it's clearly all this other guy's fault? [Sammy] I love Joey having no particular distinction between "annoying person who's getting in the way of me making cartoons" and "eldritch entity" - WHICH IS THE SAME THING, it's just an annoying person who's getting in the way of making cartoons! [Joey] YEAH!!

[Sammy] Jack struck me as someone who'd be a cautious driver. [GM] And he let Sammy drive his car?!

[Joey] It's taking Joey a little longer to finish his ritual, because he keeps getting angry and ranting more, [Sammy] "*draws one line* AND ANOTHER THING--!"

[GM] Avedon says you need to watch out for each other, because something's already messing with Norman -- [Joey] what, wAIT-- WHAT? [GM] --and he needs you guys to come find him, he's at this hotel, and he thinks he knows how to destroy the Phantom. [Joey] Have you called Norman? [GM] He says, "Where do you think I got this number?" And then he hangs up. [Joey] .................................................................. [Sammy/Jack/Henry] *IMMEDIATELY LOSING IT* [Jack] *still cracking up* H-how, how mad is Joey right now, [Joey] ...........................I need to look something up.

[Joey] I know way too much about, the history of phone technologies now, [Sammy] This game is educational. Nobody tells you that.

[Joey] What is up with your crazy friend?! [Norman] You're going to have to be more specific.

[Joey] Wait, DID you get a call from Avedon? [GM] Norman says that he got word from The Advisor earlier. [Jack].... Hm. [Sammy] Norman??????? [Joey] ...iS SUSIE STILL THERE, [GM] Uh, yeah! He hands over the phone. [Joey] IS SHE NORMAL????????????????? [GM] She likes to think so!

[Joey] Nobody's going to let Peter choose his own methods of communication, he just gets to RECEIVE [Sammy] Look! He was warned!!

[GM] Peter's glancing at Jack like, is this concerning? [Jack] Well Jack looks CONCERNED, but he's not concerned about this, specifically. This is refreshingly normal.

[Sammy] And the Traitor mercifully absent! [Jack] I know you said "traitor", but I heard "trader," like no that's a different AU, [Joey] Oh good. No Wandering Traders. [everyone makes villager "Hrrrm" noises] [Sammy] Prophet's ALSO murdering llamas for leads, [Jack] I mean, we could do with a lead about now! I don't know if we have any other than Avedon. [Joey] *uncontrollably giggling at this joke for the next 15 seconds* [Sammy] Oh boy, [Joey] *still giggling* iT WAS A REALLY gOOD ONE,,,

[Joey] Does Jack's car look any different to Henry? [Jack] Well there's a weird splat mark in the shape of a guy,

[Sammy] Be vigilant! His will can overtake your own. [Henry] Hm,,, you too,

[GM] Does anyone want to do a summary of where we were at? [Jack] I have an extremely short summary: [Jack] Shit's Fucked.

[Sammy] Avedon told us to meet him because THE WORLD IS IN PERIL [Sammy] which, I think it's really important to remember that Avedon is French, when you imagine him saying the word "peril." That's all.

[Sammy] It's not TOO late to visit people, but it is maybe an awkward time to-- [Jack] When has awkward timing EVER stopped this-- [Sammy] NEVER. It's never stopped us. [Henry] I think it would be weirder if we arrived at an opportune time, at this point! [Joey] It IS a great time for a snake to show up, I feel like. [Sammy] That's true. It's never a wrong time for a snake to show up, honestly.

[Joey] Enough time has passed that Joey will come out to the parking lot. [Sammy] I really thought you were gonna say "come out to the party" [Jack] Joey's coming out? [GM] *laughing* I think they already know!

[Joey] Also, Norman has started acting very weird. [Henry] How? [Joey] You know how, sometimes people start saying things, in situations like this, where they think... [Joey]...yOU KNOW HOW PROPHET DESCRIBES PEOPLE?

[Jack] I can't believe you're splitting up the boyfriends! [Jack] ...as compared to the other boyfriends, [Sammy] I feel like it's really hard to split this party without splitting up some boyfriends somewhere.

[GM] Jack doesn't want to drive and Sammy doesn't know where he's going - ✨TEAMWORK!✨ :D

[Jack] You go through all of Henry's coats and none of them are familiar, and they're all extremely stylish [Henry] That's not Carcosa, that's Joey.

[Jack] Oh no, his accent's Italian now! [Sammy] That's just what happens when you come to New York.

[GM] Make a sanity check. [Henry] For looking at a clarinet???

[Henry] Henry is... maybe taking a closer look out the window. [Sammy] I support him. I'm not there, but I support him-- [Henry] Then, yeah, I'm gonna say he's doing that! [Sammy] --from afar, where I suffer no consequences.

[Henry] Henry has his hand on his gun. [Henry] ...he knows that he can't, like, SHOOT CARCOSA, but, [Jack] Carcosa's haunted.

[Joey] I actually succeeded the luck check! [Sammy] Congratulations, that's a feat for Joey! [Jack] It's his natural talent.

[Henry] I wish I had the words to describe the face Henry is making. [Henry] If Scared and Defeated had a baby.

[GM] Avedon turns around, looking wild-eyed behind his glasses, and says, because he is the master of smart things, "We need to get out of here!" [Joey] NO SHIT, SHERLOCK!

[GM] In fact, you think you hear conspiratorial whispering in the distance! [Henry] But our conspiratorial whisperer is accounted for...

[Joey] Joey's just going to march up behind them and ask what's going on. [GM] They are both going to jump to their feet, and bow, actually, [Sammy] Um. [Jack] Hmmmm. [Sammy] UM. [GM] and say, "we were just dealing with matters of State, Your Highness." [Joey] [Joey] *quiet giggling* [Jack] Oh no. [Sammy] Joey doesn't need this. Joey doesn't need this. [Jack] His ego's already so big!!

[Sammy] You're going to open the door and the Phantom's gonna be standing there. [Henry] "Want some weed?"

[Joey] Avedon can stay with Norman. They're friends. [Sammy] I don't-- we'll see how Norman is. [Joey] I mean, I don't think, no matter what, that Norman can be weirder than Avedon?

[GM] You can make a psychology roll, if you want! [Sammy] OKAY, we'll see, I'm not holding out a lot of hope on Sammy getting this-- [Sammy] *rolls* ....WELL. That is... an extreme success. I rolled a TWO. [Jack] Are we sure SAMMY hasn't been replaced? [Joey] Has Shazz been replaced? [Jack] Have Shazz's dice been replaced????

[Jack] Jack is probably trying to get... any.... information out of Norman, [Sammy] Sorry, I left you the hard mode one. [Joey] Kiss him!!

[mrs-kmikaelson]

05| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: As you settle back into the Quarter, you juggle your personal and new professional life—but with the Mikaelsons, it was almost as if there was no difference between the two. Warnings: none Words: 5.6K

Masterlist | Part 6

a/n: i see this series getting long, guys; just letting you know. btw, i'm pretty much unoccupied, so u can expect new posts for this series and possibly other imagines like every 2-3 days. and tysm for all the support! anyway, i'll let you get to reading now.

I walked into the Abattoir with a façade of confidence. I was now completely sober, facing the repercussions of my drunken actions. It'd been about a week since my agreement with Elijah and he'd only just called me in to speak with him yesterday.

I was currently cursing my drunk self, but at least Marcel was now allowed back into the Quarter without any fuss. Of course, he wasn't allowed back into the slaughterhouse, but he did compel himself a nice little townhouse a few minutes of human-walking away from my place.

In New Orleans, it was always better to live in the Quarter than anywhere else. This was the heart of the city's supernatural happenings. You were both safest here and also at most danger. But I guess, if you had enemies, you wanted to be in the Quarter because, if you had a crew to roll with, then nobody would really try you.

That's how it used to be at one point in time, and that's what the factions were trying to achieve now.

I was immediately greeted after making it past the gates. "Y/N," Elijah said, walking towards me, hands held out. He wrapped an arm around me, walking me to the couches in the middle of the courtyard. I tried not to show any discomfort at the physical touch. "It's lovely to see you."

I chuckled a little. "Feeling's mutual," I replied, causing the nobleman to let out a little laugh himself. I sat down on one of the couches while he sat on the other. "So, what have we got today?"

He sighed, "The withes are unhappy because of- all due respect, Marcellus' actions."

Right. Marcel forbade anyone to do magic. While I understand his reasoning, trying to protect a little witch by the name of Davina Claire, it was cruel. To ask a witch to go without magic was like asking a human not to breathe; it was damn near impossible.

Even though I get what he was trying to do, I still didn't agree with it—but that didn't mean that I agreed with what the New Orleans witches were doing either.

"So I've heard. But I'm sure you're aware of why he did what he did." He was; otherwise, I wouldn't have brought it up. I wouldn't do anything to endanger Davina; she'd become like a family to me. I knew that the Mikaelsons knew all about Davina, the harvest, and whatnot.

"Yes, of course. To protect Davina, I understand. She is special, without a doubt." Elijah's voice with filled with nothing other than conviction; I'd expect nothing less when people were speaking about Davina.

I smiled thinking about her. "Yes, she is."

"However, it still hasn't done us any favours on a community-wide scale." Elijah ran a hand through his hair. "The witches' spokesperson, Genevieve, is just about furious with the treatment they've received." A look suddenly appeared on his face. "And considering the... interactions my family has had with her, I wouldn't want to anger her further, especially since Hayley is with child."

This was the first time my heart didn't stop at the mention of Klaus' unborn baby. Instead, I was too focused on the witch Elijah named: Genevieve. Now, this was a name Marcel had somehow neglected to inform me about, but I was well aware of who she was.

From my understanding, Rebekah Mikaelson killed her the same year the Mikaelsons fled New Orleans, sometime in the early 1900s. Marcel spilled the whole story to me one night when he was drunk.

Genevieve died. Yet, according to Elijah (and I know this is not a coincidence) she's alive leading the NOLA coven.

Great.

I responded after a beat, bringing my hands together. "Okayyy, so what are we doing?"

"Making the witches happy, love."

Now my heart stopped.

I turned my head to see Klaus just finishing walking down the stairs. "Elijah tells me you're our new... fixer." He shrugged, making his way to the minibar. "So fix it."

"Niklaus."

"Get a grip, Elijah. I don't think I'm offending the young woman," he said before turning to face me. "Am I offending you, love?"

I skipped the whole processing bit of this situation and dived straight into my persona. "Not at all."

Klaus made a gesture to me with his hand, turning back to his brother. "See, Elijah. Marcel's right hand has tough skin." Elijah responded with a much more exhausted sigh than before, rubbing his hand on his face. Klaus ignored this, turning back to me with a bottle of bourbon in his hand. "Want me to pour you a glass, Y/N?"

"It is ten o'clock in the morning, Niklaus."

"All the more reason," he quipped back. "Y/N?"

I tried to loosen up, but my smile probably came out a little more tense than I originally intended. "I'm good; thank you."

Klaus looked at me for a few seconds before shrugging and pouring his own glass. Elijah took this opportunity to continue, but not before letting out another sigh. "As I was saying before my brother so tersely interrupted us, Genevieve has agreed to meet with us after I told her that you—Marcel's right hand, as Niklaus put it—were going to be representing us."

I tried to focus all my attention on the task at hand instead of my absent father who kept looking over at me periodically. I remembered what this was like when I did it for Cellie; I just had to get back in the game. "So, if you are looking to make an agreement of some sort, what are you willing to negotiate—give up, even?"

Just as Elijah was about to answer, Klaus briskly cut him off. "Oh, that's all on you, love." I narrowed my eyes slightly and he elaborated. "You decide then and there what you think is fair." He shrugged again, and although he looked carefree, he also had a smug look on his face that I doubt he was even trying to hide. "Ball's in your court." This was a test.

I didn't ponder on that for too long, nodding to him. "I can do that."

Klaus nodded back. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a quick look from Elijah seemed to make him want to hold his tongue. Thank God.

While I seemed like I was coming a long way, just the mere idea of holding a conversation with this man was terrifying. There were so many things I was holding my tongue about. It was just lucky that I so happened to be 500 years old. A few, quick conversations with my dad who had no idea I was his illegitimate child would not break me. Maybe it fucked with my head, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

I'm here after all, aren't I?

Elijah cleared his throat. "Well, it seems to me that we've discussed everything we needed to discuss for today." He stood up and I followed suit. "Again, it was lovely seeing you, Y/N."

"Likewise." I shook the hand he held out, once again ignoring the weird original rush I felt. "I'll see myself out." Couldn't get out faster.

I walked toward the exit before Elijah could say something gentlemanly about escorting me out and before Klaus could say something that'd boggle my mind even further. I assumed he'd text me the details about the meeting later.

I took a deep breath immediately once I was far enough from the compound that I was sure they wouldn't hear me. I had no idea how I was going to get used to any of this, but it was too late to go back now.

In the meantime, I decided to take my mind off the Mikaelsons for a bit by visiting someone who I've yet to see.

I walked into the old church with caution. It wasn't like I had a problem with Kieran; I just felt awkward whenever I talked to him, so I'd rather avoid him. I've had enough awkward situations in these past few weeks to last me a lifetime.

To my luck, he was absent and so I just walked straight upstairs, dodging cobwebs as I went until I made it to the attic's ajar door. A girl sat on a stool in front of an easel, painting a landscape. She was so focused she didn't even notice me push the door the rest of the way open.

I smiled, leaning on the door as I looked around the room that'd changed since I last saw it, now more decorated and screaming it'd been touched by a teenage girl. "So Marcel's still got you holed up in here, huh?"

She instantly spun around with her jaw dropped. "Y/N?!" She ran toward me, engulfing me in a tight hug that I'm sure would've broken some bones if I was human.

I chuckled, "Hi, Davina. I've missed you, too."

She pulled back, looking over me with disbelief visible on her face. "Oh, my God- when did you get back?"

"A little while ago. I'm sorry I couldn't come see you sooner, but I've been absolutely swamped. I promise, though—going into the future, I'll make time to see you." Davina smiled, pulling me back in for another hug. Her happiness spread to me and I started smiling so hard that my cheeks hurt. I think this might be the first time I've been this happy since I got back to New Orleans.

Davina was an amazing kid. I was supposed to meet up with Marcel the night of the harvest when he saved her, and so I ended up meeting her a few months before I left. She just so happened to be one of the few people who know my secret. She was incredibly gifted and reminded me so much of my younger self. I felt like I owed it to her, to myself, to be there for her. In the short time I've known her, she's become something like a little sister to me, if not a daughter.

When we broke from the hug, we both ended up sitting on the bed. I let her catch me up on what's been happening, even though I already more or less knew it from Marcel's summaries. "Okay, so if the witches aren't trying to hunt you down anymore, why are you still hiding away in this attic?"

"Well, I'm not hiding away anymore," she replied. "Marcel just figured it'd be safer for me to stay here instead of with them. He still doesn't trust them and, honestly, neither do I. They've been acting kind of weird since the witches were resurrected, but I just deal with it and go there everyday to practice."

I hummed. I understood Marcel's reasoning; keeping Davina at the church was actually pretty smart. I wouldn't trust her with a bunch of vengeful witches, either, especially after they tried to kill her once. But this attic was far too small for a little girl to spend her days in.

I looked around the cluttered room, thinking before I said screw it and decided to propose my idea to Davina. "What if you didn't have to stay here?" I asked, looking back at her.

She furrowed her brows. "What do you mean? It's not like there's anywhere else I could go, besides with the witches."

"Not necessarily true." I sat up straighter. "I mean, my townhouse has three rooms, and only one of those rooms isn't empty." I shrugged, gesturing around the room. "It's bigger than this place, so all your stuff would fit."

She sat up too. "Wait, are you being serious?"

"Hell yeah, I am. And the protections on my place are a lot better than this church's, trust me."

"You want me to move in with you?"

"Yeah, Davina, that's what I've been sayi-" I was cut off when she threw her arms around me in the tightest hug she'd given me since I entered the attic, and that was saying something.

"Oh, my gosh! Yes, of course!" 

I giggled at her enthusiasm, hugging her back before pulling away to pull my phone out of my back pocket. "Okay, I'll drop you off at the apartment now and I'll text some people to come pick up your stuff and bring it to you." I glanced back up at her for confirmation, looking back at my phone when she giddily nodded. "You can just make yourself at home and get settled in. I'll be home a bit later; I just have a business meeting first."

"Yeah, sure." Davina then stood up, looking around and clapping her hands. "I'll start packing!"

I laughed for what felt like the umpteenth time since I've seen her, standing up too. "Alright, D. I'll see you later," I said, but she was already far too engrossed in packing her things, giving me a distracted goodbye. I shook my head, the corners of my lips going up even higher as I left the room.

Thank God I wouldn't have to come back to this creepy ass church anymore. I really hadn't even thought of asking Davina move in with me; it was such a spur of the moment kind of thing, but I had no doubts then and no doubts now. She'd be safer with me than here, with the witches, or even Marcel.

At the though of my friend, I went to text him about this new development, coming across a message from Elijah along the way.

Elijah M. We'll be meeting the witches at 7:00 PM at the compound.

You OK, I'll be there.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket after responding to Elijah and texting Marcel about Davina. Seven was two hours away, so I had time to go home and freshen up before the meeting.

I wasn't nervous; I'd already been here before, already done it all, but I did feel a weird pressure to do this well. Something in me said Klaus was counting on me to fail, so it was my job to prove him wrong.

I walked right into the compound later without standing out front for ten minutes like I did this morning. I was gonna have to get used to this all eventually and I'd prefer that'd happen sooner rather than later. 

I was apparently earlier than everyone else because there wasn't a Mikaelson or red-haired witch in sight. I checked my watch: 6:30, it read. Earlier than I expected, but that was fine with me. I wiped the imaginary dust off my outfit: slacks and a tight white dress shirt that I'd unbuttoned just enough to not look like a female Elijah. Resemblance to the Mikaelsons was not what I needed right now.

I was just about to pull out my phone to keep myself busy when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around, my eyes meeting the mother of Klaus' kid. "Oh, hi," she greeted, a surprised look on her face. "What are you- oh, right, Elijah told me you guys were meeting with the witches tonight."

"Yeah- it, uh, appears that I'm a bit early." I chuckled, making small talk even though I really didn't want to have any unnecessary conversations with anyone that lived in this building.

"No, it's a good quality. Elijah's like that," she told me. I nodded, ignoring my thoughts which were questioning her relationship with Elijah. Something told me it was a lot more complicated than it seemed. "I wanted to thank you, by the way."

My brows furrowed. "Hm? For what?"

"For covering me that day with Elijah- and for saving me from that vampire that day, too," she expressed with an almost bashful look on her face. "I realize I was pretty rude to you, but I was really just having a bad day, and-"

"And I'm a vampire, so you were just being careful." She let a small, embarrassed smile form on her lips which I reciprocated. "It's fine, I get it. I'd do the same if I were in your shoes."

"Thank you for understanding; I really appreciate it." I told her it was no problem, resisting the urge to be nosy and ask why she didn't wanna tell Elijah what happened; I didn't want to risk her growing suspicious of me.

Before Hayley and I could fall into an uncomfortable silence, Klaus and Elijah strolled in through the gates into the courtyard. Klaus' eyes narrowed between me and Hayley, probably in a protective manner, while Elijah greeted me. 

"Y/N, sorry to have kept you waiting-"

"Oh, no, it was no biggie." I gestured to Hayley. "I had good company, anyways." Hayley smiled, excusing herself after wishing us luck with the witches, but I doubted I'd need it.

I was good and I knew it. Half a millennium alone in the world taught you how to negotiate, how to get your way when you had no one else on your side. Really, I was less worried about the witches and more worried about being in Klaus' presence.

Speak of the devil.

"The witches should arrive soon," Klaus announced, glancing down at his watch then up at me, a smirk arising on his face. "And then you'll be able to play your hand."

I stopped myself from narrowing my eyes or doing anything that showed I felt the shade he was so obviously throwing my way. Clearly, without even having really spoken to me, dear old dad has decided he doesn't like me, much less trust me. I don't know why that hurt because I don't even want to be talking to him period. I guess there's just a part of me that disagrees with that.

Like this morning, Klaus didn't waste a second before walking over to the bar. "Can I interest you in a drink whilst we wait, love?" He poured himself a glass. "Some... liquid courage, if you will."

He's being a jackass on purpose.

I declined, "No thanks." I shook my head. "I don't need it." And I also don't need to be under the influence around the Originals.

Klaus chuckled in an almost sardonic manner. Like the night I met him, he had a dark air around him that he barely cared to conceal. Klaus wanted people to notice that about him; he wanted people to be scared. And I was, but for entirely different reasons.

However, I'd sooner die before letting him know that. If he wanted to play hard ball, then I'd be the best damn batter he's ever seen.

Klaus turned around, tipping his glass to me. "You're quite confident."

"Well, I can back it up," I quipped back. In response, he sarcastically smiled, taking a sip of the brown liquid in his hand. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elijah glancing in between us watchfully.

"So I've heard- and you know, it got me thinking, what exactly is it about you that makes you so special?" This-

I was given time to pause by Elijah's interjection. "Niklaus."

He held his hands out in the air. "What, Elijah? I'm just curious," he reasoned.

I cut Elijah off before he could say something more in order to respond. "No, it's alright, Elijah; I understand the skepticism." I looked back to Klaus whose eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. "The reason why people are more inclined to listen to me is because I don't operate with a desire to instill fear in others, just respect." I maintained eye contact with Klaus, hoping he was picking up what I was putting down. I knew he got the message when I saw his jaw clench.

He looked like he was going to say something else, but before he could, the gates to the compound opened. All three of us looked toward the entrance to see Genevieve and two other witches walking beside her, like a little entourage.

Elijah seemed to let out a sigh of relief at the intrusion. "Genevieve," he greeted, walking toward them. "Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. Please, take a seat. Can we interest you in any beverages?"

While Elijah was clearly doing his best to mediate, Klaus didn't say a word, only burning a hole into the side of Genevieve's head with a hard glare while he drank his scotch.

The three of them sat down on one couch as Elijah and I sat on the one parallel to it. "No, that'll be alright," she said, crossing her legs. "I know you appreciate verity, Elijah, so I'm gonna be honest: I wouldn't have agreed to this meeting if it weren't for the woman sitting next to you."

Elijah nodded. "Yes, I'm completely aware. Y/N is here to make sure that we both get what we want and to ensure that the future of the Quarter, and everyone in it, is prosperous."

I smiled, holding my hand out. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you. I've heard many good things about you." That was a lie.

Shaking my hand, she responded, "Likewise. The elders of the coven are practically smitten with you. I've never seen witches so eager to deal with a vampire."

"Well, I hope that, after our discussion, you will also be more eager to work with the Mikaelsons."

Genevieve almost scoffed at what I said. In my peripheral, I saw Klaus roll his eyes—at me or her, I'm unsure. "Please, Y/N—I'm sure you're aware of who exactly these people are and what they've done. Even though you're a vampire, you have to admit it's outrageous." Her voice was incredulous.

I really don't understand what she was making a big fuss about. From the way the story was told, Genevieve used to have a huge crush on Klaus back in the day—ew—but I wasn't gonna actually use that against her. I didn't want her to resent me; I actually needed her to like me for this to work.

"I understand where you're coming from," I told her, managing to muster up a sympathetic expression. "But we all want the same thing: peace. That is the final destination; there are so many stops along the way to get there, so if peace is where we truly want to be, then we need to be willing to put aside our differences."

The redhead sighed. "I hear what you're saying, but how can we expect peace while working with these people? How do you expect us to trust them?" Now, Klaus scoffed, causing both Genevieve and Elijah to look over at him, Elijah with a more stern look in his eyes. I, on the other hand, ignored him altogether, focusing completely on the witch in front of me.

I said her name to get her attention back onto me, thus causing Elijah to look away from his brother, too. "I am, in no way, asking you to trust blindly. We're willing to negotiate; just state your terms." I knew this was dangerous, giving her the opportunity to ask for whatever she wanted, but the witches had been recently oppressed; giving them the chance to ask for what they wanted was like an apology of sorts, one that I felt they'd appreciate.

Genevieve looked hesitant, glancing at both of her associates, to Elijah, Klaus, and then back to me. Even without looking at him, I could feel Klaus staring at me, probably questionably. None of them were expecting that move. 

See, because I was representing the Mikaelsons, Genevieve expected me to state their terms first then negotiate since they were more powerful. So, of course she was surprised.

After a beat of silence, she finally spoke up. "We want to practice freely."

"Done."

"And we want to celebrate our festivals without a hassle."

"Of course."

"And we want to reclaim witch territory for ourselves and ourselves alone, like the Lafayette cemetery." 

"Reasonable," I noted, waiting for her to say something else. When she didn't, I asked, "Is there anything else we can give you? You don't have to answer right now; we'll take some time then I'll get a contract drafted-"

"Esther Mikaelson's grimoire." At her interjection, the room went silent. I didn't even wanna know what Klaus looked like right now, but Genevieve sure as hell seemed to have regained her confidence. "We want Esther Mikaelson's grimoire." That was one ballsy request.

"Are you out of your mind?" For the first time since the witches walked into the compound, Klaus spoke. I looked over at him to see a look of shock adorning his face as if the redhead just tried to kill him—and, I mean, was he that far off?

You don't ask for the Original Witch's spell book without wanting to kill or at least having the ability to kill if you so need it.

Elijah seemed to recover from a shock of his own, trying to calm his brother down. "Niklaus-"

"I am not giving you my mother's grimoire." Klaus had set his drink down, walking toward where we were all sitting. Smoke might as well have been coming out of his ears. I knew that, if I were one of the three witches sitting across from me, I'd be shitting myself. "After what you tried to do to my family, you expect me to hand over-"

"Niklaus." Elijah cut him off, but more firmly and this time Klaus actually listened, turning to look over at Elijah with hard eyes. His eyes flickered to me for a split second before looking back at Genevieve—or glaring, rather.

While Genevieve looked slightly startled, I saw the dead-set expression on her face. It'd be hard to try and convince her that Esther's grimoire wasn't what the witches wanted, but it was possible.

Gears turned in my head as I thought it over until a quick idea popped into my head. At that moment, I began, "I'm sorry, Genevieve. We can do everything else you mentioned, put it in writing, but Esther Mikaelson's grimoire is a no-go." I saw her shaking her head before I even finished.

"Then no deal-"

Elijah cut in, "Genevieve, please-"

"I can give you the next best thing." I caught Genevieve's attention easily, along with everyone else's in the room. In seconds, I had come up with a quick fix; it was a gamble, but if you aren't willing to go big, then go the fuck home. "I currently have a Bennett grimoire in my possession." I paused, gauging her reaction. Clearly, this night was full of surprises. 

I suppressed the urge to glance over at my relatives; I had a feeling that I already knew what their faces looked like.

Genevieve struggled to compose herself, so I continued, "It's yours, so long as you accept." I understood what was happening here: the witches or the spirits or whatever were already decided, and they wanted the Mikaelson grimoire, but how could they be upset with what I was offering? A Bennett spell book was a damn good replacement if I ever saw one, and if anyone knew that, it was Esther's children themselves.

I knew the history—I've spent my life learning it. Ayana taught Esther everything she knew; the Bennett bloodline was one of the strongest, maybe even stronger than the Mikaelsons. And although I doubt Genevieve knew the lengthy Bennett history, she quickly got her bearings and responded, "I- we accept-"

I cut her off, smiling, "Great. Now our turn." I clasped my hands together. "You guys can keep your sanctuaries, the cemetery and whatnot, but in shared areas like the rest of the Quarter, we ask that you remain peaceful and avoid altercations with other factions. We're asking the same of the other factions, as well. Similarly, the Mikaelsons don't want conflicts, so we'd also like to avoid altercations in that area." 

It seemed pretty simple because it was. It was like what Elijah said to me that night in Rousseau's: everybody wants power, and the witches were no different. They didn't agree to this meeting for peace; they agreed because they wanted power, and the Mikaelsons struck this deal for the same exact reason, even if that's not how the nobleman would've phrased it.

While I didn't provide the witches with the same prepared list of terms, what I was asking for would have the same effect. The Originals were already on top, so what more did they really need to ask for?

Genevieve, once again, looked over at the two girls sitting next to her who both nodded at the silent question she was asking. When she turned back to me, the smallest of smiles was on her lips. "You have yourself a deal."

I reciprocated her expression as we both stood up. I shook her hand. "Pleasure doing business with you. I'll work on getting that contract drafted in more detail, so please, come to us with any other requests you may have."

Genevieve nodded, letting go of my hand, and Elijah took the pleasantries from there, walking them out of the compound. This left Klaus and I alone momentarily.

I looked over at him to see that he was already staring at me. I felt a chill go down my spine from how intently he was looking at me, my mini adrenaline rush dying down. It looked almost like he was picking me apart with his gaze.

I didn't want him to think I had something to hide, so I held his stare. We were both silent until Elijah walked back. This time, he didn't seem to sense the tension in the room—that, or he just chose to ignore it. 

"Thank you, Y/N," he said. I looked away from Klaus to smile in response, but the second I did, he broke his vow of silence.

"How do you have a Bennett grimoire in your possession?" Klaus' voice was cold and accusatory, just as his eyes were. Elijah just might have frozen had he not been a thousand-years-old; hell, I probably would have, too, but I'd already been crafting an explanation as soon as the idea popped into my head.

Not the real explanation, but one that made more sense.

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I met one a few hundred years ago. She died after she was in the wrong place, wrong time, but she left that book to me."

Klaus didn't look sold. "A Bennett witch left her grimoire with you, a vampire? Not with her family?"

"Well, to be fair, she wasn't in touch with her family at that time," I retorted. "And I was human at the time so, yes, she left it to me because she knew it could come of use one day."

Klaus didn't reply to me, instead choosing to continue staring me down. However, his glare was now lessened, so I knew he sort of believed me, even though he had doubts.

In the time that Klaus wasn't saying anything, Elijah cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. When I looked over, he smiled and tried to further de-escalate the situation. "Thank you, again, Y/N."

That was my cue to leave. "No problem. Are you okay with meeting up tomorrow to discuss the contract?"

He nodded. "Of course. Lunch?"

"Sounds great," I said, grabbing my bag that I'd left on the armchair next to me. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Elijah bid me farewell while Klaus remained mute, but I still felt him staring at me, even as I was walking out; only when I'd walked two minutes away from the compound did I finally let go of that feeling

I didn't speed all the way home this time like I had been doing recently after exiting the Abattoir. Instead, I decided to take this time to think since I really haven't gotten a moment alone all day.

The excuse I gave Klaus wasn't too far from the truth—I only warped it slightly. I didn't know who he knew or how well he knew my mother before he slept with her, but I knew that if I gave him the real story, there was a possibility that he'd find out who I was.

The real story was that my mother was best friends with a Bennett. Almost like history repeating itself if you thought about it; Amelia Bennett was to my family what Ayana was to the Mikaelsons. She was both a mentor to my mother and me.

In reality, we were a lot closer than I made it sound. She was a lot closer to my mother than she was with the rest of her family. We were in Salem; the witch trials were just beginning, so any witch in the area was either preparing to leave or to die. She was anticipating the latter, so before she died, she made sure to leave the assets she had to my mother. 

The other Bennetts didn't dispute this, fleeing west. The rest of the story, I try not to think about. I needed to be strong, for Davina, for Marcel, for Amelia, for my mother, and for myself; otherwise, everything I've sacrificed would've been for nothing.

With that thought, I had a new resolution.

This, what I was doing here in New Orleans, could not fail. I have not lived the life I've lived just to fail. So from this moment forward, I decided to be better, to be stronger. No more quivering at the mention of my father or his baby, no more getting shaken up by conversations with the Mikaelsons.

Walking toward my apartment, I made myself a promise.

This city will not break me, no matter what.

[nalyra-dreaming]

I'd love to hear your opinion on Mayfair Witches now that s2 is done

as a show coexisting in the same universe as IWTV

as a standalone story ignoring the rest of the universe

the writing, the acting, maybe even the production of the show

the fanbase it's attracted both good and bad

That's probably a lot, sorry!😅

Okay, so I sat on this for a while...

The show coexisting in the same universe:

The thing is, IWTV stretched the lore and book canon a bit, in a way. Lestat's little poker table scene can be explained (while squinting a bit) with the existing gifts. Lestat's powers, Louis' powers and Armand's are all well within canon limits, especially with the setting and age adaptions. The visualization is fitting.

Mayfair Witches... is not that. Now, it's been ages, since I read the books, but these witches are not the usual spell casters iirc. It started off well enough, imho, but especially in the second season the show not only made the witches different kind of witches, but even worse: they also made the Talamasca a different kind of order.

And that is going to be a problem, imho, sooner or later.

The Talamasca are an order of watchers in the books. Founded by ghosts and vampires they are ruled by those "elders", and their members have some capabilities, at best. A few can see ghosts, a few have mental abilities, a few can direct spirits.

That's it, more or less.

Mayfair Witches gave the Talamasca portals, the ability to remove memories(!), real spells, and healing transfer powers, so abilities that are very much beyond the scope of the order in the books.

As such, this show which does coexist in the same universe of IWTV - and Talamasca - has established show canon now for the other shows as well, and ... it is going to be interesting, to put it mildly, to see this fit with the other two.

I do think that the amount of thought that was put into these changes (not as much as should have been...) will mean trouble sooner or later.

The show as a standalone:

As a standalone MW is... dull. Imho. The witches do not have any real power, they depend on the Taltos, and they all seem often a bit surprised by magic happening. There's weird effects, and phrases like "thrall" used for things that are decidedly not a "thrall" (like, that word exists. Why change the meaning for the show???). The universe is never explained, flashbacks not made recognizable as such. Whole story lines are forgotten through the seasons, Ciprien's sister not heard of again, and so on.

It is a show that you can watch while doing something else.

Which is also, likely, why it's doing so well on streaming.

Writing, acting, production:

*sighs* (Do I have to?)

Jen Richards who plays JoJo is actually my favorite actress. Unfortunately she more or less misses for most of the second season in said "thrall". I also liked Alyssa Jirrels as Moira (they changed Mona to Moira, and she's a whole different character), and Tongayi Chirisa as Ciprien. Jack Huston did a better job as Lasher in season 2 than season 1.

Alexandra Daddario is a very beautiful woman, and I get why they chose her, but her acting is bad in this show. So is her voice modulation. It just... I don't know if it was the directing or if the part just is beyond her, but in any case, she cannot carry Rowan. Most of the time Rowan is superfluous in a show that supposedly revolves around her. (I talked about it here as well, and, well, am not alone in this take.)

The costumes are better in s2, now that Carol is on it, and it shows. While the show is in NOLA the city carries the show a bit, but the parts in Scotland were just... IDK.

The effects they chose for the skills, for the "spells" all look cheap. I'm sorry, but ... like Rowan scanning someone's body, right, and they put a "scanner light" onto the screen, not kidding. Whyyyyyyyy. Some pulsing in veins overlaying the image would have been better, for example, just as an idea off the top of my head. Rowan searching for Lasher?! She's running around holding out her hand, I'm not kidding. She conjures a flame, and it's literally the poor little brother of IWTV, with the flames flickering on Armand's hand and Rowan... has a little candle light fire. Again, not kidding.

And so on.

The writing is abysmal.

Story lines introduced and abandoned, powers or spells never explained. Lore just there, but up for the viewer to guess. Canon lore blown up. Characters changed completely, or forgotten about in the seasons' run. Things done without considering the repercussions.

Some dialogue was so stupid it hurt, especially in Scotland for some reason. Ben Feldman's dialogue comes to mind here though I would need to rewatch to cite it (and I refuse to, sorry).

The fanbase.

IDK - is there one?

I know there are fans of the books - and I KNOW that a lot of people put their hopes into the show at the beginning. I, also, had hoped it would be quite different.

The show ... is just not good. And I do think that reflects on the social media channels. I do think the relatively good streaming numbers come from the basic advertising visuals and the fact that you can just watch it without needing to pay much attention.

But unfortunately it does not even make much sense then... AND, remember the SDCC poster?

They don't even have the flaming dress in the show.

What else is there to say, really.

[cancerian-woman]

yes the mikaelsons running in and taking things over is a racist tidbit idc

but you know what would have made it a bit more palatable? hayley being native, played by an actual native or brown woman OR bonnie being hope’s mother so we get a bi/multiracial hope and overall less white mikaelson family

I can’t accept the whiteness lmaooo accepting that a white outsider from a family of white abominations would unite the factions? Please.

also ansel, klaus’ dad was supposed to be native right?

these writers didnt care at all. no research into the rich setting they chose. they just wanted the optics of a cool setting

You’re absolutely correct. They couldn’t be bothered to find native actors until it was time for one to play a villain. I hate everything about the hallow and its origins. They describe her as power hungry and crazy everything about her reads: “Angry native woman wants to kill innocent white girl and others…” is just so racist and disrespectful.

If Hope was biracial, with a WOC mother or even Bonnie in the position the fans would’ve been ruthless and extra racist as hell. Though it would’ve helped the diversity in the show and characters if the writers really wanted to show NOLA properly. When I used other platforms and here I’d always get met some type of backlash for mentioning Klaus liking witches and his that easily could’ve led to Bonnie.. There’s only one character Greta was physically similar too and that’s Bonnie.

Vincent was honestly the best leader of NOLA. He was over the petty fights between the Mikaelson’s/Marcel and just wanted the best for the people there no matter what they were and that’s so important. Hayley’s want to have Hope unite the factors is an unfair burden when it isn’t something Hope spoke on.

I think in some way if Marcel was written better, I’d think he was supposed to be like Louis from ITWV specifically Jacob Anderson’s portrayal.

Ansel is such a mystery and throwaway character. We spent so much time with the hybrids and Klaus’ needs to not feel so alone but have someone like him to have nothing done with his wolf side. How did they give Klaus a cousin in Cary but never do anything—

Which is why Hope should’ve had a witch mother to begin with. Hope couldn’t even get a pact mark from Klaus? All he got was watching her turn. Nothing but daddy issues huh!

[alwaysonf1]

oopsy?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 4.4k

Warning: Canadian NHL team shit talking. Middle fingers.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

As much as Iman doesn’t mind and is one hundred percent on board for all the filming and hanging out with the drivers, she's happy that it’s not an every day of the week and every class kind of thing. There’s a level of mental capacity it takes to deal with the people around her while doing this that she can’t maintain every day.

But today isn’t one of those days. Today they’re at a track and that’s one of her favorite places to be no matter where it is.

NOLA Motorsports Park hasn’t seen any real IndyCar action since twenty fifteen, but it’s still a place that some teams use when they want to test and practice in a place where it wouldn’t really be expected. Though there were times they did open the public stuff and in about a month there would be a McLaren sponsored karting tournament for kids already in and new to the world of motorsport. 

Iman looks forward to that day because she enjoys helping the kids with their races and even more so helping them understand how their karts work. She was even going to be in charge of a more informational segment that she knows is going to be boring as hell, but hopefully insightful for kids and their parents.

The sport can be hard enough getting into it and she wanted to make it easier for them. Even if she felt a little like a fraud speaking as her path hasn’t really been from the ground up like half the kids there.

But at the moment what she’s most happy about is that she isn’t the one making the drive to the track. The place is over an hour from her apartment and though it rarely feels that long it’s nice to have someone else to do it. 

Though she could do without being sandwiched between her brother and her new frenemy, Lance.

“It’s a Canadian sport. And they are original, how could you dislike them? They have more championships than Seattle has in years playing. I mean I like them too, but come on, Iman.”

The entire rant is funny and it’s the same argument they’ve had twice now after he found out that she enjoys hockey. They’ve talked a little about football too, but the moment she enacted her duty of humbling a Canadian it’s been a back and forth of him being flustered over her dislike of almost all the Canadian teams in the NHL. Most of it being due to her disdain for certain players - most of which for petty reasons and some because they’re assholes.

She reaches out and pats his leg, giving him a soft and kind look that’s only playfully condescending.

“How about we pick this back up when a Canadian team breaks their thirty year streak of not winning the Stanley Cup. Something multiple players in Seattle have done in that time period.”

“You went there?”

“I went there.”

Lance huffs and puffs. He tries to say something, but every time his mouth opens he closes it again. If I didn’t notice the way he wanted to laugh and the resignation in his expression I would fear I’d genuinely offended him, but I know I hadn’t. Poor man knew it was the truth, even if it was a painful one.

“It’s their year.”

“Who’s year?”

He sighs. “I don’t know. One of them.”

“Leafs?”

At that he makes a face that can only be read as disgust.

“You’re mad at me and you don’t even like them.”

“I’m obligated.”

“I get it.”

Because she does. That conditionally and sometimes fake patriotism got the best of her too.

She opens her mouth to bring them back to common ground by shitting on Vegas, but for the tenth time there’s a pull at some strands of hair at the back of her head. Eyes narrowed she turns her head to look at her brother. Who doesn’t even bother to look away or remove his hand.

“Why?”

Lewis shrugs.

Rolling her eyes she reaches up and pulls on one of his braids, earning a swat to her hand.

“Don’t pull my hair,” he says.

“Then don’t pull mine.”

And he does it again.

Like the child she sometimes is, she goes to retaliate, but the van rolls to a stop and she settles for glaring at him.

“Ha.”

“Oh, shut up.”

With the last word she follows the others out of the van, “accidentally” kicking Lewis on her way out. By the time he’s out and able to get her back she’s already standing at the front of everyone barely suppressing a gleeful smile. He joins the group and flips her off in a covert way and she does the same.

Not them doing that on the low mattered since the cameras weren’t focused on the group yet. Every camera person is huddled together talking amongst themselves.

“Is that a McLaren indycar?” Alex asks.

“Sure is.”

Daniel raises his hand, a broad smile on his face. “Are we going to get in it?” 

“Maybe.”

That seems to shock everyone, but there is some giddiness to it. One would think that a group of men who raced for a living and who would be back to doing it in about a week wouldn’t be so eager to get into a car. But then again that’s the driving force of why some of them do it for a living.

Before anyone can say anything else Anne walks up and the camera surrounds them. Anne gestures to Iman and she takes her cue.

Iman hitches her thumb backward. “This is where I do a lot of my internship work during the school year. Though it’s not often used for pro-racing, it is used for testing. And that’s what McLaren’s Indycar team is doing here for the next month or so. And today you’ll be helping me with work. 

“All of you know there is some level of secrecy going on with this stuff, but everything you see and hear today will be things that are known to the public or that no one cares about anyone else knowing. Plus, this testing is for this past season's car, not the coming one.

“We’re going to get a tour of the place and then get to work. Any questions before we get things going?”

The group is quiet and after a few seconds Iman nods and then turns. She leads the group up to the pit lane where McLaren mechanics await them. There are greetings and then another explanation of what they’re doing there. Then they’re led off on a tour of the spaces. They field questions from the drivers and to round out the tour they end up back in front of where they started.

“Okay, so we’re trying to figure out what went wrong with this engine during one of the races this season. We had to replace the whole thing and it didn’t become a priority to take it apart and find out, so that’s what we’re doing now to see if there’s anything we need to change in the future,” the head mechanic says.

He looks around at everyone in the way one does when ensuring that they have a listening audience.

“Okay, so you’ll see what Iman and our team do to figure that out. I know this could be more exciting, but we decided this is a good glimpse to really show what she does and in a way we’re comfortable showing. You’ll pair off and our people will explain what’s going on. Feel free to ask questions and point out any oddities you see, we need all the eyes on this that we can get. It’s all preliminary, so they won’t be at it for long and then that’s where the fun begins.”

He shares a mischievous smile with Iman and by the looks of everyone it makes them a bit unsettled.

“What does that mean?” Lance asks.

Iman shrugs. “You’ll see. Now go get changed.”

They do what she says even though she could see the questions they want to ask. 

About ten minutes later everyone returns in coveralls. Iman is already dressed in the clothes she works in so she’s sitting on a rolling chair when they return.

“Ready?” she asks.

They nod.

“Okay, I’m not going to treat this like a class room so everyone in groups of two and then you’ll be with one of us.”

Much like all Iman’s years of school, all the drivers freeze. Then they all scramble toward their chosen person. Despite the small group - or because of how small it was - some end up losing out. It takes all of her not to burst into laughter when Carlos goes for Charles and Lewis snatches up the Monégasque. Which means Carlos is with Daniel. The man pouts while Daniel grins ear to ear, but you could tell it was more playful. 

Lewis and Charles laugh at their antics and Iman knows that those two groups are going to be a chaotic mess.

And because she’s so busy holding back giggles at their nonsense, she misses the chance to grab a group that doesn’t contain her brother. She knows that part of this whole thing is wanting them to be together, but she would be a bad little sister if she didn’t act indignant about it.

“I guess I’m stuck with you too,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Lewis grins. “Yes, you are. You’ll love it. Won’t she Charles?”

Both men turn their heads to face each other and they share similar grins. Then they turn to her and she sees devious intentions in their eyes. Iman feels like they’re plotting against her and she doesn’t like that.

“Of course. We are a delight,” Charles says.

Now she really knows they’re going to be a handful. Though she hopes putting them to work will help.

“Sure, you will be. How about using that delightfulness to help me disassemble this.”

She gestures to the problem engine. She’s to take care of that one while the others look at two others. Both of them cling to their little creep show and then finally nod and help her disassemble the thing. Lewis is a little competent in it because she always talked about it and forced him to learn, but Charles is a little surprising to her. But it’s nice to only have to give a little guidance and get to focus on her work.

Of course she gets so into it that she forgets that she should probably talk to them a little after Charles clears his throat. By the sounds of it he’d been trying to get her attention for a little while.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“You work for McLaren?” he asks.

“This year.”

“Only this year? They seem very okay with this for such a short time.”

“Once before, but for a shorter amount of time then. I’ve done about four internships, two of them with them. One in Nascar and another for a different IndyCar team.”

“Wow, that’s a lot. How do you find the time?”

“I don’t. Just chaos twenty-four seven.” She laughs. “But to be fair, the first IndyCar was when I was a senior in high school. They were doing a program for kids of that age to get them interested and I was a test subject. Since my mother worked for them it was more likely they’d get better feedback versus the kids who might be scared saying anything could get them blacklisted.”

“Really?”

Iman smiles. “Really. There weren’t many issues and nothing major though, so it was fine.”

“No, I mean in high school?”

“Yup. It’s what happens when you tell the people in your life what you want to do for a living and they have the connections. The moment my mom knew I was serious she had me applying everywhere and brought me in to shadow her and anyone else she could have agree. I was annoying, but good enough that they didn’t tell her to stop.”

Talking with Charles is easy and the conversation is one that helps her focus on the task of disassembling the unnecessarily greasy mess that is her side of the engine. Something is peaceful about it too. Nice even.

When she looks up and past Charles to her brother Iman sees a weird expression on Lewis' face. It’s one he wears when he knows something or thinks he knows something and a weird smile. She wants to question it, but thinks better of it. Knowing Lewis it will irritate her and there is a part of her brain that is sure she knows what that look is for and she refuses to address it.

Not stepping into that shit show. Nope.

“Okay, what happened?” Lewis asks.

“It stopped the car completely and then when we went to check it there was a small-ish fire.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was the furthest from the fire, Lew.”

There’s some grumbling, but his expression and body language mellows out. Not much though. For some reason Iman looks to Charles for support, but instead she’s on the receiving end of a look that gives off mild anger and a silver of disappointment. Of course she doesn’t know Charles well enough for her to fully understand his expressions, but she’s familiar with the reactions of siblings.

Iman groans. “Oh come on. Not you too.”

“I’d be mad at my brothers for it as well,” Charles says.

Lewis fist bumps the man and they both stare Iman down as if expecting something like an apology from her. One that she isn’t willing to give, because while she gets the worry and is appreciative of it - especially when Charles barely knows her - this is her job. She’s made a career choice and these kinds of situations are the kind of shitty parts that she expects and that need to be expected. Especially from people who’ve seen their fair share of chaos and tragedy in the world of motorsport. She knows that that’s probably why they’re worse about it. But Iman also knows that there’s something more to it.

Instead of indulging them she rolls her eyes and focuses on the engine. They join in after a couple seconds and she guides them through it, telling them the running theory on what they think caused the fire and answering the questions they have about all the ways their hypothesis could be true.

The help feels nice. They don’t slow her down at all and even if they did she realizes that she wouldn’t mind it. Their interest makes it enjoyable.

By the time they finish they’ve mostly ruled out what it wasn’t but have no confirmation on if what McLarens mechanics think went wrong did. It’s frustrating, but Iman knew enough about the job to know that eliminating possibilities was sometimes better than finding the answer right away. In this case it meant she could catch anything that was also an issue, but didn’t get its chance to show out. And there were at least two of those issues she had to document.

Iman follows the other mechanics to give a report and compare notes and she returns changed into clothes she brought with her. When she emerges on the track the drivers are also back in their clothes and standing in front of some of the newest cars from their respective brands or the creators of the engines their F1 car uses.

Lance is looking at her with a raised brow as she enters their field of view and the others appear curious.

“What’s happening here?” Daniel asks, though with how giddy he is Iman knows he knows.

“Friendly race.”

As if they weren’t professional drivers that did this multiple times a year an electric kind of excitement filled the circle. It’s classic teenage boy behavior as they nudge each other and talk shit.

Anne steps in and grabs everyone’s attention.

“We’re going to have a friendly race. Everyone will be paired up and though there is only one tandem here, you can’t be paired with your teammate.” There is some groaning from the Ferrari boys. “And, because we have a McLaren IndyCar driver here waiting around, Pato O’Ward, will be joining in on the fun.”

Pato appears the moment his name is mentioned. He wears a wide smile and shyly waves to the group.

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind me crashing this.”

“Dibs!” Daniel yells.

Everyone startles, but then it’s a bunch of eye rolling and some bashfulness from Pato.

“That’s fine, Daniel. I was going to choose who gets who, but it's free for all. So pick yo…”

Before Anne can finish what she’s saying everyone scrambles and Iman crosses paths with Lewis. She knocks into him, sending him a little off kilter and with enough force that he ends up next to Carlos and her next to Charles. 

“Hey!” he shouts.

Iman waves. “Hi.”

“You know what.. How dare… Why?”

“I haven’t caused you suffering in a while, which I’m obligated as a little sister to do. Also I’ve driven many Mercedes. I want to try out a Ferrari. Plus, even if I didn’t go for Charles the odds of me reaching Carlos before Lance chooses between him and Albon were low. Shit end of the stick, Lew.”

Everyone laughs as they watch a series of emotions play on the man’s face. He huffs and puffs as he tries to find the words.

Realization dawns on Lewis’ face.

“Wait. No. You’re not racing. You can’t… This isn’t… No.”

Every sentence he starts is clearly going to lead to the interaction turning from funny to a little more serious, so Iman lets him work through finding his words.

“Then you shouldn’t have taught me how. I’m not the one who got grounded at his big age for letting me race a car by a woman who is not their mother.”

Alex snickers. “Wait. He did?”

“Yup. Of course she couldn’t make it stick, but she was trying hard to figure out all the ways she could.”

Lewis winces, probably remembering it. Then he rolls his eyes and sulks. “Fine.”

With a much gentler smile Iman walks over and places a kiss on Lewis’ cheek and ruffles his braids, then retakes her spot next to Charles. Though he fights against it she watches the sulking stop

“Okay, just don’t cry to her or dad when I kick your ass.”

“Bring it.”

Anne retakes control of the conversation and directs everyone to their cars. They’re all given helmets, because this is hot lap adjacent. 

“Everyone will get one lap, then you’ll swap. This is about speed and I know that every one of you is capable of doing this in this type of vehicle, but I’m reminding you all to be safe. Nothing crazy unless you’re sure you can execute it without risk to yourself and everyone else. Got it?”

There’s a chorus of agreement.

They all discuss who is going first, but Iman just directs Charles to the driver’s side. He looks at her with a brow raised in question, but then he follows her gaze and sees that Carlos is taking this lap. He smiles and nods.

Once in the car they strap in and Charles takes a few deep breaths. They’re given the signal to get into place and they get into a formation that works for them. Charles looks at her, a smirk on his lips that is equal parts cocky and confident.

“Ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

He extends his arm, his hand in a fist. Iman bumps it without question. Then they both turn forward and wait for the go ahead.

Despite seeing it at the same time as Charles and preparing herself, Iman's heart drops to her ass once he hits the gas. It takes a few seconds for her to chill out and by then they’re on the first turn. 

Charles drives seamlessly and despite the blur of their surroundings Iman doesn't feel like she’s going terribly fast. Then a Mercedes sails by and then another. Without having to think about what’s happening. He is pushing it, but he’s holding back. 

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t let loose Charlie.”

He barely glances at her, probably to gauge if she means it, and then he pushes it. In about ten seconds he’s passed one of the cars in front of them and is fighting off the other. The others behind them catch up and it’s a battle back there, but it’s irrelevant to the one in front of them.

At every instance he tries to get around the Mercedes she knows Carlos is driving, but despite almost getting past he misses the mark by half a second. Before they know it they’re crossing the finish line barely behind the Mercedes. There’s a three way tie for the others about two seconds later.

And then everyone exits their cars. There’s some bragging and arguing. As Charles and Iman change sides he lightly bumps into Carlos with a frown on his face. He’s trying to seem upset, but the smile he’s wearing is wide.

“What about being comrades?” Charles jokes.

Carlos laughs. “Not here.”

Iman slides into the driver’s seat and takes a few deep breaths as her fingers trace the steering wheel. Nerves creep in, but they leave her the moment she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns to see Charles looking at her with a bit of concern.

“Are you okay?”

“A little bit of nerves. Nothing I won’t shake as I put them behind us.”

That brings back the smirk that he wore when he was behind the wheel. There was obviously going to be some uncertainty about her being the only non-driver in the race, but as she smiles back at Charles she realizes he didn’t bring that up or seem bothered when she snatched him up from someone who he’d seen do this for a living. It was a nice reassurance. Even if she knew damn well she could hang with the big boys. At least in this kind of situation, behind an F1 car was another thing entirely.

A muffled shout interrupts the moment and Charles puts down his window, revealing Lewis with his own down. He’s smiling, but it’s that stupid lazy one he puts on when he’s feeling himself. 

Annoying man.

“Ready to lose, Immy?”

Of course he uses that nickname while being annoying.

“You should be asking yourself that, LuLu.”

“Well, I am a seven time…”

Iman flips him off and he shuts up, looking appalled. Charles puts the window back up while laughing, but she catches Lewis’ returning the gesture.

Again Charles reaches out and they bump fists. Then it’s lights out and away they go.

In comparison Iman’s take off is delayed, but despite the few inches everyone has in front of her when she does get going, she closes and surpasses it. She puts her speed over one hundred and keeps it there on the first turn. Lewis pulls ahead and so does Lance, but she manages to evade being boxed out and puts a little over a second between them. 

The next turn has her losing speed a little, but she regains it and keeps herself next to Lance and Daniel for the straight and then on the next turn, she guns it. With ease she ends up in front of Lance and then she’s next to the Mercedes. Lewis increases speed, but it doesn’t beat her out. In the final turn she does what she did in the last one and pushes the car to its limits. The last few feet before the end of the track are a close race, but at the last second she pushes further.

With her speed the car goes past the finish, but it’s a second or two before her brother crosses the line. Everyone else trails by a second or more and then they all leave the car. Iman is shaking from the speed and the excitement. Charles rushes over and pulls her into a hug she happily returns. 

“That was great. No, excellent. You crushed it,” Charles says.

“Thank you.”

There’s some shit talking, but they all praise her.

Lewis is pouting, but it’s not fooling her at all. He’s the last to pull her into a hug and it’s tight. 

“You did fucking phenomenal, Immy. I didn’t expect that. You blew away all expectations,” he says.

As he pulls away he kisses the top of her head and refuses to let her go. Pride shines on his face and she feels even more proud of herself. She feels like she’s the shit. There are no delusions of grandeur on the level they’re at, but she beat multiple professional racers at something adjacent to their own game and that’s good enough.

“I did learn some things from the best,” she says.

He laughs, throwing his head back a little and then pulls her into another hug. They pull away and Pato walks up, patting her arm.

“Maybe you should be in Nascar, that was better than your IndyCar test,” Pato says.

“Her what? You’re what?” Lewis moves so fast to look at Pato and Iman that he should have whiplash.

“Uh…”

Pato winces. “Was that supposed to be a secret?”

“Iman Marie Hamilton. You’re what?”

He moves toward her just as she ducks behind Charles. With how serious - but not in a bodily harm way - he looks she’s sure Charles is going to move out of her brother’s war path, but he reaches a hand around and takes hold of her shirt. As Lewis tries to get around him he moves with her, using the shirt to leverage her.

“Maybe we should forget this and go to dinner.”

Sweet Charles is trying to de-escalate, but it’s not working and that’s in part because he can’t stop himself from giggling. Which turns Lewis ire from just  Iman to both of them.

“LeClerc. Is this the war you want?”

Everyone holds their breath and seconds tick by.

“Yes.”

And without a word Iman breaks into a sprint with Charles following suit. Carlos has chosen Lewis' side so he goes for his teammate. Pato and Lance run interference for Iman while Alex and Daniel join in the sport of being the first to get to Charles. It’s chaos and it dissolves into laughter and labored breathing so quickly. Yet none of them stop.

You’d think they were all a bunch of children and not very much grown adults. But it’s so funny that Anne puts the camera people to work chasing them down for all the actions.

[amusingmusie]

Hi

I'm not going to be updating this week. I'm overwhelmed right now and need a quick break. This isn't a hiatus. The update will be soon, but when I'm ready. I know you guys want an update and I'm flattered people are invested in this, but blowing up my inbox on anon (there are many examples of this I have not responded to because I didn't want to engage with them) isn't going to make me write faster. I work and have a life. If you are that desperate to demand I post a new chapter, you can pay me real US dollars for it. Writing isn't easy, especially when my chapters are landing between 6k-9k words nowadays and I have to edit.

There have also been comments popping up on ao3 complaining about aspects of my fic that are clearly tagged. I get it, it's not everyone's cup of tea. It's got a lot of moving parts, it has other characters besides Al and Reader, I've got an insert with race/gender descriptors (which I would not be using if my fic didn't take place in Jim Crow era NOLA with heavy sexism in the mix, race is a big factor of my story, I chose to explore a mixed race relationship, it will have an actual impact on the plot, I didn't throw it in there because I'm an asshole).

That being said, if I have something specifically tagged and you don't like it, don't click on my work. If you don't like my fic then don't read it. I'm going to begin blocking people at this point. I'm not above criticism. I am above people feeling entitled to complain about something they were warned about then turning it on me.

I'm not saying this for anyone to come kiss my butt, I don't want or need that. I'm only being honest about why I need a few days away. I do this for free and because I enjoy doing this. I shouldn't be crying because I'm so stressed over a fanfic. So, before I fizzle out again, I'm stepping away. I may upload other pieces I've been working on or I may go silent. I've got a Huskerdust piece I'm having a lot of fun with. Either way, I'm gonna do what makes me happy and I'll be back with an update later in the month.

If this sounds like I'm yelling at you, that's not my intention. I am just so tired and done with not saying anything. To the pookers that are very kind and supportive, thank you so much. To the asks in my inbox, I promise I will be getting to you guys when I'm back and thank you for engaging with me. I don't want to act like I don't have awesome people in my circle or it's all doom and gloom. This has been boiling and finally reached a head tonight. I will be okay. I just need a minute.

See you soon,

-Muse

[starrysnowdrop]

I know this is a little late, but here’s my New Year’s post where I’ll discuss what my plans are for 2025 and some of my thoughts heading into this new year. I’m assuming that I might be a little long winded, so I’ll put the rest under the cut. Have a happy 2025 everyone!!

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me after the attack in my hometown of New Orleans. As I mentioned before, no one I personally knew was there on Bourbon Street when it happened, but it nonetheless left me feeling extremely distressed, and everyone here in Nola is grieving together, so we are taking it one day at a time.

Because of the attack, I wasn’t in the right mindset to write out this post, but I’m finally alright enough mentally to get these thoughts out.

Next, spurned on by my new profile picture, I decided that I wanted to change up the look of my blog a bit. There’s lighter, brighter colors used, and along with the new colors, I decided to make some new banners for my pinned post. The new banners are already being used in my pinned post, but I’ll attach them below in case you haven’t seen them yet. The background is a painting of snowdrop flowers! Don’t worry, the starry banners that were there previously will still be used interchangeably with the new ones when I answer asks.

Speaking of Hali and her ships, I have plenty of things that I want to gpose and write for Hali, and at the moment I’m still going forward with Hali having two ships in separate universes, but I’m not going to lie: I’m extremely inspired to write for Hali x Themis at the moment.

So does that mean that I’ll drop the Aymeric ship in the future? Well, I don’t know that yet. I’m still very happy with what I’ve done for the Hali x Aymeric ship, and even in the Themisverse, Aymeric is her first love. The only difference is that Aymeric pushes Hali away so that she doesn’t have to be stuck in Ishgard with him when she’s an adventurer, so they never get together in the Themisverse. So Aymeric would still be a very important person who plays a very important role in Hali’s story regardless if they are in a relationship or not.

However, my mind just will not leave me alone when it comes to Themis. I currently want to explore Hali’s experiences with seeing Themis in her dreams and not knowing who he is or why she can’t stop dreaming of him, and also having a Deja vu feeling whenever she encounters Elidibus but neither of them recognizing each other nor remembering their past love for each other. And of course, there’s much to write about Hali’s personal story during the events of Pandaemonium when they start falling in love with each other.

On the gpose front, I already have made some great strides with getting back to doing some more complex posing and using some shaders and presets that broke in the DT graphics update that I FINALLY got around to fixing! So once my son is back in school and I have more free time to practice, I’ll be getting back to do more gposes and especially more Hali x Themis shippy stuff!! So please look forward to it!!!

Alright, so let’s move onto Yume and Zenos (her side blog is @firelightmuse). I’m going to continue housing Yume’s stuff on the separate side blog even though all of my other OCs will be on the main blog, and that’s because Yume’s story has some darker content and themes from her backstory and her relationship with Zenos that is very different from Hali’s story and what I’m planning on for Sohna’s story.

There’s already several WIPs on the Yume x Zenos front, and I will be going forward with what I’ve wanted to explore with Yume for a long time: Yume will be heading home to Hingashi and facing what’s happened to her home since she left over a decade ago. It’s a storyline that I’ve been planning for a few years now but I finally feel confident enough in where she’s at that I’m going forward with it finally. So there’s much more that will be coming out from Yume’s story this year, so once again, please look forward to it!!

And lastly but certainly not least, I’m still going to be exploring Sohna’s story and developing her relationship with Alphinaud, but that’s going to be slow going, because Sohna is from Tural, and her story is so tied up in Dawntrail’s MSQ that I don’t know how much of a role she will play in the events going forward. I do know that down the road I want her to join the Scions and obviously she will grow closer to Alphi, but I’m not sure how I want to approach all of that just yet. Just know that I still love them greatly and I’m excited to see how things progress this year!!

And with that, those are currently my plans for 2025, and I have so much on my plate that I want to accomplish, but I’m really motivated right now and I’m excited to start working on it all. If you’ve read this far, thank you so much for your time, and feel free to ask me anything that I didn’t cover here or if you want more details on something. Once again, thank you, and here’s to a Happy 2025!!!

[ca-suffit]

im sorry your takes are generally pretty great and i appreciate the space you make in fandom but i find the dismissal around lestat's queerness to be diminishing.

louis is a fantastic gay character and u r right about how he represents his queerness which is fabulously. he is mother he is fashion he is wife, a lot, and lestat is a lot more masc in aspects of their dynamic. louis also struggles with it, had internalized homophobia, and his relationship to his sexuality is fraught. now you can have that complexity and still be a "gay icon" sure but what i see here is a gay man existing. not every gay man existing has to be ~iconic~. louis is working on himself.

lestat is a different person and is going out there to make a mark on culture actively, regardless of why. he's not putting on a dress for five seconds (which btw was still pretty impactful in context but ok), he is being meaningfully gnc and making art. this is what queer culture is. it's frustrating to see this element diminished like it's just a meme or a bunch of people being thirsty.

im all for critiquing fandom being weirdos about it but i think the showrunners are doing something spectacular and pretending like fans are making lestat into something he is not just isn't the vibe.

reading this made me realize that I left out a sentence in this ask, so it did come off differently than I intended. I'd meant to say there's already been a lot of exploration of characters / ppl like lestat, but there's never been a character like louis before. I wasn't rly ever talking about lestat's queerness itself, I was talking about how he's prioritized bcuz he's white.

if u personally identity with him in this then that's ur right to, obviously. no group is a monolith and I was never trying to say one way is more "right" than the other. I rly do apologize if it came across like that, cuz I can see why it did.

"he's not putting on a dress for five seconds (which btw was still pretty impactful in context but ok)"

I don't rly know what u mean here bcuz within the show, nobody comments on the dress. ppl react to the baby but everything we know of the dress otherwise was only revealed by carol cutshall bts. I don't know what impact ur meaning here. to the tv audience, sure, but the NOLA audience?? or is it the fact he designed it in the first place.

tbh the thing I most noticed was that once again a white, european immigrant got to be center stage in an event that louis, as a black, louisiana native, isn't (like the card game lestat already had a place at more favored than louis earlier in S1). he also was able to wear that dress in public without public scorn (being european prbly helped here too, he's "other'd" but not the same way as louis is "other'd" for being black), which is something louis could never have done and actually survived at all. it's not that lestat doesn't experience homophobia otherwise, but he's still got a lot more room to confront it than louis, claudia, or armand would have, as ppl who would be confronting homophobia *and* racism with no access to white privilege (claudia literally dies in the same hour we see lestat confront a homophobe otherwise on his and louis' behalf and "win").

idk what they're going to explore for S3 yet, but what we've seen so far is....not that deep tbh. it's not even especially "queer." we're aware he is so we know it is, but straight men have worn makeup and flashy outfits and done homoerotic shit as musicians before too. very often. nothing we've seen from lestat so far has been pushing any boundary as a queer artist or making any kind of statement. I'm not trying to sound like a total bitch here, but a lot of what ur saying is pushing this white fandom agenda of the "importance" of so much that any white, queer character does that....just isn't. lestat's image and sound is taking a lot from other ppl in real music history who *were* doing groundbreaking things at the time, straight or not, but what he's doing is just wearing it as a costume rn. his lyrics even say "I'm an actor / in my makeup." like I said, S3 in full will bring more to the table, obviously, but for what we've seen so far....this hasn't said anything in any objective way that's "deep." u can still like it and identity with it, but idk how u'd argue that it's doing anything tbh. ur welcome to do it tho, I'm not trying to shut down the conversation here. I'm just giving my perspective. I *do* actually think this is stuff we should talk about exactly *bcuz* fandom rides so hard for it all the time. it should be explored why that is, what's the logic behind it. I rly am interested.

edit: wanted to add too that p much everyone we see in this show is queer and creative so literally why is nobody ever saying all this about louis' photography, claudia's acting and interest in fashion (or her general observations on the world thru so many diaries that are referenced in multiple ways as she's not around anymore to speak otherwise), armand's theatre work, madeleine's dressmaking. that's usually why ppl comment on lestat, bcuz he's the most noticed and praised but he's literally not the only one doing it at all.

[quanticowrites]

NCIS NASCAR AU because I can and it's my fave sport 🤭

I'm just gonna do some of the OG NCIS for now.

Drivers:

Anthony "Turbo" Dinozzo- Not quite a rookie, not quite a veteran. Known for being a hothead and getting into fights. Nicknamed Turbo because an announcer that it would be funny to say Turbo Dinozzo. He embraced it. Had merch made, it sold out. Runs for Leroy Gibbs Racing. Has a love interest on the track.

E. J "Honeybee" Barrett- Came to NASCAR from F1 racing. Everyone thought she'd have a hard time adjusting but she's never done worse than 12th without being crashed out. Called Honeybee because she looks sweet but she'll sting if you get in her way. Has been seen with Tony outside the track but nothing is confirmed. She drives for Sheppard Racing.

Michelle "Third Place" Lee- Known for having finished third place in multiple races in a row, multiple times. She's never won and that lights a fire under her. Stopped racing due to family problems. Was suspected of trying to get car data to a rival team's spotter.

Emily "Sunshine" Fornell- Youngest Woman to ever compete. Get her love of racing for her Dad and her Uncle. Has a sponsor whose logo has a big sun on the hood of her car. Hot pink driver suit. If the sun hits her car just right her car almost blinds her fellow competitors. She uses that to her advantage. Her dad is her crew chief.

Crew Chiefs:

Leon "Box-out" Vance- Competed for over a decade until the birth of his kids. Became a crew chief and has won multiple championships as crew chief for multiple drivers over the years. Currently crew chief for E.J. Nicknamed Box-out because he boxed in college before taking up racing.

Leroy "The Jet" Gibbs- Completed well into his 50s until he was sidelined by an injury in a boating accident (heh.) Was called the jet because of all the speed records he broke on multiple tracks. Now owns a one-car team AND is crew chief.

Tobias Fornell- Was never a racer but is passionate about the sport. His daughter is who he is crew chief for. His blood pressure is through the roof every Sunday.

Data Analysts:

Timothy McGee- Analyst for E.J's team. So good with stats Vance and E.J rarely question what he suggests to them. Despite being part of a rival team is best friends with Tony off-track.

Abby Sciuto- Analyst for Tony's team. Gets so into it on the radio Gibbs has to sometimes mute her mic to hear Tony. Makes snacks for the entire team pre-race.

Spotters:

Ducky Mallard- The oldest spotter on the rooftop. Despite it being over 90 degrees he's always seen wearing a suit and tie. Spotter for Tony's team. Sometimes he's the buffer between Tony and Gibbs.

Jimmy Palmer- Is known for never swearing on the radio. Still polite even if yelled at by his driver. When asked to sub for E.J once he was hesitant but he went out and almost won before being crashed out by Tony.

Other team members:

Ziva David- Works at the shop for Leroy Gibbs Racing. She Is their best mechanic. When they bring a wrecked car back to the shop she has to leave and scream for ten minutes before coming back inside and getting to work. Tony flirts with her while he's at the shop, but nothing serious has ever come of it.

Ned Dorneget- A data analyst, but he stays back at the shop. Has only been out to the track a handful of times and each time he has to be dragged there. Would rather do the analytics from his laptop in the shop. He's been shuffled to a few teams but is currently working with E.J and Vance. There are rumors he may be switching to Leroy Gibbs Racing next season.

Okay, that got longer than I anticipated but...I'm glad I finally put my thoughts out there! I've thought about this au for a while since they're both things I love. Let me know what you think!!!! I will probably do a more recent NCIS version someday. Maybe a NOLA one. We'll see!

[stanathanxoox]

That Was Very Hot

gifs are not mine

Anonymous asked:

Dwayne Pride and reader’s wedding day, and (the ex-boyfriend) mayor Hamilton clashes the wedding reception

Everything was going perfectly, you were stood between your close family and friends in an intimate ceremony in the bar when the doors slam open.

“I hope I’m not missing out on anything important here Dwayne” you hear the arrogant voice of Mayor Hamilton chorus as he makes his way over to you and your fiance.

“Ya weren’t invited Douglas, what the hell do ya think ya doin’ here?” your fiance asks, his jaw clenched in irritation at having been interrupted on such a special day. He shoots you an apologetic look and you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m hurt Dwayne. But we had a promise. You had 72 hours to help solve the case and yet I find you here instead with these people” he casts a scowl over all of you and when his gaze lands on you he smirks

“You could’ve done better Dwayne, so much better” and that’s when you lose your cool. You punch him, not caring about the repercussions. His head snaps back as blood starts to trickle from his nose and you seeth as you say voice pitched slightly lower as you say

“You heard Dwayne, you weren’t invited Douglas. Our wedding has been planned for months and we weren’t going to put it off for you or anyone else. So you can either be civil and enjoy the vows and then fuck off out of my sight before the ceremony or just fuck off all together and we will resume the fucking case in the morning”. Your glaring at Douglas, waiting for him to bite back, but he shakes his head

“You better keep your word Dwayne, Y/N. Tomorrow morning 10am I want an update on what you know” he says as he turns and walks out the door. Your trying to calm yourself back down again when you feel the arms you so desperately adore being wrapped around your waist as he whispers

“That was very hot Y/N. Now can we get back to the vows?” you look at your fiance and nod

“Of course we can Dwayne” you say giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi​, @jimmybpride​, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​, @nikkiwierden​, @samchelforever007​, @kirkspockbones​, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox​, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love​, @haliannej​, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake​​, @mizzezm​, @genius2050​, @twilight-twihard​, @cullencoven2019​, @wxlfgirlx​, @luciferxchloeislove​, @drethanramsey-ismybabe​, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine​, @loverofoneshots​, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen​​

Tag List for NCIS/NCIS NOLA: @powerpuffbubbles​, @diaryofafan17​, @thebeckyjolene​

Tag for NCIS NOLA: @flight-of-a-robin

Tag List for Pride: @aryaarathornson​, @mack-jay, @thebeckyjolene