#but i was gonna create our own but she is from nola and turns at 19 too

[multistoty]

@forevermonsters​

The air tasted like wonder. Like candied butterfly wings caught in sugared spiderwebs, and drunken peaches coated in luck. The scent of magic in the making. Every person has the power to change their fate if they are brave enough to fight for what they desire more than anything. Every good story needs a villain.But the best villains are the ones you secretly like. The moon is a loyal companion.It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections. But there's something about the darkness, the stillness of this hour, I think, that creates a language of its own. There's a strange kind of freedom in the dark; a terrifying vulnerability we allow ourselves at exactly the wrong moment, tricked by the darkness into thinking it will keep our secrets. She was no lamb. She was a lion. Hope as a mixture of the beasts told in stories to scare children into behaving knew that letting out your full monostrocity would only make you the hunted. A mistake is a mere moment though regret was forever.When life becomes difficult. the only source of strength we have is love. Love of others, love of self, love of life in its entirety. We forget our dreams, but our nightmares linger with us evermore. Not everyone gets a true ending. There are two types of endings because most people give up at the part of the story where things are the worst, where the situation feels hopeless. But that’s when hope is needed most. only those who persevere can find their true ending. Dreams that come true can be beautiful, but they can also turn into nightmares when people won't wake up. No one is truly honest. Even if we don't lie to others, we often lie to ourselves. And the word good means different things to different people. Her heart was still a little heavy, but she'd decided carrying it around would only maker her stronger.  The future knows what things we desire, unless there is something greater in our path that chases us away.  He smelled of magic and heartbreak, and something about the combination made her think that despite what he claimed, he wanted to be her hero. He might have been a liar and villain, but he made both things look very good. Her first impression of him, tall, roughly handsome, and dangerous, like poison dressed up in an attractive bottle. Once she had seen him, the annoyed movement of keeping her prey from dying while knowing witnesses could not be let out. But the copper scent of blood was portruding in the air around him and her wolf ears didn’t hear the unruly beat of a heart against the cage of their chest. He seemed about her age though more courted by darkness than she was. Hope had only killed once since turning. And it was the accidental one that flickered her curse. The length between them was cut like a knife through the night as she came closer to the handsome stranger with intellgence in her lives. She was named Hope to be that for her family. A monster always caught between two worlds. never a human, but never one completely sated in the bathing of blood. Yet, snark was her usual means of surviving. The murder of her mother all those years ago still making it hard not to completely hide your heart when faced with someone new, but the internal cut open and stuffed with sunshine version of herself still shined. It had been months since she had sunk her teeth into a living breathing person. It was a true allure of darkness. “Well, well, well, you definitely have neater eating habits than more of our kind. Not that we have some sort of conference. I don’t think I have ever seen someone look so beautiful bathed in the copper tinge of blood. My name is Hope. What about you lover boy?”

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

A/N: I’ve decided to go into my own little TRR world and create an AU. This will be fun! So; Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Explicit. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Dawkins (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 1,500 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Song And Story Inspiration: NOLA-August Alsina | Away From Me/Control-Puddle Of Mudd

Prompt Time! Using @wackydrabbles prompt #76 “You’ll Feel Better In The Morning”. It’ll be in bold in black.

Tag List: @lifeaskim @choiceslady @secretaryunpaid @bebepac @pixie88 @txemrn @glaimtruelovealways @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @choicesfannatalie @hopelessromanticmonie @shanzay44 @wackydrabbles @choicesficwriterscreations

I AM UNAPOLOGETICALLY NSFW! READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED AND ENCOURAGED!

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or DM me and I will gladly add you. 😁😘

Chapter 21.) Shadow Of The Crown.

(This is from My King’s POV)

Here I sit with a drink in my hand while staring at the documents on my desk. One is the hotel blueprints I showed Tariq and the other is the Royal decree of debt collection for Lord Winslow. All both needed was my signature and a few lives would be turned upside down. But could I really do it? Could I be that heartless? Short answer: yes! Long answer: hell yes!

They deserve it after all. They’re coming after me and what is rightfully mine. They’re coming for My Queen. And they would have succeeded had that idiot not sent handwritten messages to me and Shanelle. I have always been afraid of becoming somewhat of a dictator like my father and my grandfather before him. But, now I understand why they ruled the way they did. Their enemies stopped at nothing. And clearly mine aren’t either.

Sure, their challenge for the crown and throne doesn’t bother me. But what does bother me, is them thinking that they’re going to undermine or intimidate My Queen. I can’t have that. I have to protect and shield her from them. That’s my job as her fiancé and her future King. I serve her before I serve my people.

They pushed me to this point. I don’t want to be this way. But if I’m gonna be honest, I actually like being selfish. Making them fear The Crown and it’s unbridled power is quite satisfying. I now understand why my father enjoyed it so much. He loved when nations feared him as much as they respected him. He always said it helped to know who was weak and who wasn’t. Just like now.

And sure, the court won’t like my decisions should I decide to make them, but then again that damn court doesn’t like anything that specifically makes them look bad. As long as I fall in line with what they want, they’re happy. My happiness and sanity be damned. Which is why I fight so hard for Shanelle. I want them to see her as the queen that she will be for all of Cordonia. But their stubborn determination will never let that happen. They’d much rather I be with someone like Duchess Kaitlyn or better yet, they’d rather I’d reunite with Madeleine.

Poor Maddie truth be told we were doomed from the start. Not just because I couldn’t get over My Queen but, we just weren’t compatible. And it didn’t help that she was still somewhat in love with Leo. Yet and still we tried to make it work. But the court and their whispers of an heir needing to be produced the minute we returned from our honeymoon, became too much. I do think she was a great queen. But with her endometriosis, she could never have children. And with no true blood heir, our marriage failed. I don’t hate her and I sincerely hope that she doesn’t hate me. She was a queen for Cordonia, not for me. I need a queen for me and I found her in My Goddess.

She is everything I could ever ask and pray for in a woman. Which is why this whole ordeal is so frustrating. I found the queen that I need and want. And the court has their noses turned up at her. Instead they’re actually leaning towards the Duchess and her idiot of a fiancé. Preposterous to say the least. They’re worried Shanelle would bring the country to ruin. But they have no idea how much ruin this kingdom would be in if the parliamentary vote goes in their favor. And when and if it does, they’ll be sorry.

All of this makes me thankful for whiskey because without it, I’d be out of my mind. It’s also making my current decision making a lot more fun. So do I or don’t I? I know the risks that I’m taking by signing these but a clear message has to, no…a clear message needs to be sent.

But what would she think? How would she feel or respond? Will she understand my decision? Now I have no delusions. I know that she’d be furious with me, but I’m only doing this for her and her protection. I see the way the vultures in the media treat her. Like she’s a fresh carcass for them to scavenge upon.

And while I’m proud to see that she is doing a fantastic job in her lessons with Regina, she’s still vulnerable in the eyes of the court. I realize that but I also know that she is a brilliantly resilient woman and I have full confidence that she will make a great queen.

That’s why I choose her. Her resilience. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit. The way she faces, challenges and takes down adversity is awe inspiring. She makes me a better king and a better man.

But the more I think about it, the more I lean towards approving the documents in front of me. Because I know that they won’t stop until she leaves me and Cordonia forever. And that will be the moment that I become the dictator that it was rumored my father was.

Many in the court whispered that he changed after my mother’s death. Which is partially true, he became suspicious of our enemies and certain allies and with good reason.

Many in the court didn’t like or necessarily agree with my mother. They opposed her being for and about the people. They wanted her to be about maintaining the court and its image. That wasn’t my mother. Like Shanelle, my mother was not a native Cordonian but my father loved her. Dearly. And much to the courts objections, he married her and eventually they had me. They were happy. He was happy. Until she was stolen from us.

My sweet mother. I miss her so much. I just want to hug her. I want to hear her sing to me. I want to see her smile again. I want to tell her how much I love her. Don’t get me wrong, I love Regina and will move heaven, hell and earth for her. She’s been good to me and my brother and she was a saint to my father. I do love her but it’s just not the same.

The way the court treated my mother is how they treat My Goddess and as a king and especially as a son, it’s infuriating. Both are beautiful, fierce and compassionate. My mother would’ve loved Shanelle. And much like Regina, she would’ve done everything that she could to convince the court, that she’s the one. My mother was young and vibrant when she was killed.

I’ve known for years that it wasn’t accidental. But I never knew who murdered her or why, but I vow that I will find out and when I do I will crush her murderers.

I can hear her beautiful voice in my head.

She would be disappointed with me. She would say, “my son, I know that you want to protect your fiancée but this isn’t the way to do it. I raised you to be better than this.”

And she’d be right she did. I am better than this. But I am also a king. My rule is being challenged. So I must do what I have to do as king to protect myself and My Goddess. Which is why these documents sit on my desk. This is how I protect us. What people don’t understand is that being a king is not just a title, it is a responsibility. I am responsible for the health, prosperity and safety of my people and especially my queen.

And what kind of king would I be if I can’t and don’t live up to my responsibilities?

And sure I could just brush off Duchess Kaitlyn and Tariq as nothing. And I really should but I don’t want to. I want them to fear what I can do. All with the swipe of a pen. And well this kind of power is delicious and it makes me understand who my father really was as king.

So if I sign these I will be the dictator that many in court said my father was. And honestly, especially now that I’ve thought about it I don’t care. I’m at my limit and this keeps me from plummeting towards having public executions just for the hell of it.

I can hear both my mother and My Goddess tell me not to do this. They’d say “Marquise you’re upset. You’re not thinking clearly. This decision isn’t who you are. Go get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” And they’re right I will as soon as I sign these decrees. And sure, Tariq and Lord Winslow will hate me. But that’s what happens when you cross me.

And with the stroke of my pen it’s done.

Long Live The King!

Forever I shall reign!

[onepdumpsterfire]

Disclaimer: These stories are based ‘loosely’ on the game Obey me shall we date. The major stuff will be the same, but here and there the story will be changed or embellished. It is just an AU and I do not own the game the characters, from both One Piece or Obey Me, nor do I own One Piece in general. It would be cool though…

Warning: The characters will mostly be ooc and for the most part will not have the same background as in the anime/manga. The reader’s age will be above consent; the exact number is up to you.

Sanji’s Pact

Devildom!AU

(pt7/?)

Various Characters X Reader

You were lying awake in bed. Sanji had gone to sleep first saying that it was bad for the skin to stay up late. He advised you to do the same, but being in a strange place made you uneasy and unable to sleep. You texted Kid to see if he was still up. He was already used to the late nights when he was invested in another project of his. Back and forth you went, talking about nothing in particular. Until Ace spoke up from his side of the room. “If you’re gonna stay up at least put your phone on silent.”

“Sorry, Ace. Didn’t mean to disturb you” He hummed in approval as he got out of bed and got into yours. “I can’t sleep either anyway. Who’re you texting?” A brazen move on his part. He had you flustered in bed. Embarrassed by the closeness he was presenting. “K-kid.” He made a small sound going back to his bed to retrieve his phone.

NEW CHAT ROOM WITH KID, ACE, Y/N

ACE: heard you were up. Can’t sleep?

Kid: yea, nothing new

ACE: wanna play a prank on sabo?

KID: hell yea

Y/N: but what would we do?

KID: let’s get a picture of his sleeping face. I bet that could go for a lot of money

ACE: we’ve tried before, but he always catches us.

Y/N: you did?

ACE: yea b4 with Sanji. He wanted a picture because none of us. or well anyone has seen him asleep before

Y/N: that’s hard to believe

KID: it’s true. Last time we tried he hung us upside down for a whole week!

ACE: but this time he won’t expect it because of the retreat…

ACE: I’m in. Wby Y/N?

Y/N: sounds like a bad idea

Y/N: I’m in 👍

KID: great let’s meet by his room in 10

ACE: 👌

Y/N: K

You and Ace left the room as quietly as you could, and made your way to where Sabo’s room should be. Luckily this area of the palace was one of the first you toured before getting deeper into the historical parts of this place. Before you were sucked into the labyrinth.

“What took so long? I said ten minutes.” Kid crossed his arm. He can be impatient at times. “Sorry. We were trying not to wake Sanji, but he kept moving in his sleep.” you both walked up to Kid ready to put your necks on the line. If Sabo found out about what you were doing he’d have a fit. “Let’s just go in,” said Ace from behind you, “be quiet.” He reached for the knob, turning it slowly then pushing on the door. It looked so meticulous it was almost laughable. All three of you stepped into the dark room, closing the door behind you. You could have thought you all went blind if it wasn’t for the frail light the weak moon gave off. It didn’t show anything in the room, it was just a pale glow in the dark of the ink surrounding it. “Where’s the bed? How are we gonna get the picture if there’s no light?” Kid whispered to you. Like hell you know. You were just wondering the same thing. “Kid, stop breathing down my neck.” Ace shoved you to the side to get away from the other male. “I’m not.” There was another hot gust of wind that passed between the three of you. There was no way it was Kid this time. There was something big behind you. Its eyes glowed red, much higher than you thought this room could hold. It must be bigger than the ones they lent you guys for the night. It menacing stare followed every move you made. He could see you in the swallowing darkness of the room. This wasn’t good. You had to get out. “GO BACK!” Ace shouted, racing to the door himself.

“What was that?” you blinked letting your eyes adjust to your new sight. “I think it was Chopper, Sabo’s pet and one of the monsters that guard the nine circles.”

“What was he doing in there?”

“Like I would know.”

“Where are we…?” The walls were familiar… Were you back in the labyrinth? “Sabo must have charmed the door, we’re underground again.” There was a rustling from behind you. “Does that mean we’re back with…Nola…” Already knowing what was behind you, all three of you ran. You needed to buy yourself time to think of a plan. What can you do? Nami! She lent you some of her power. “Stop! I know what to do. Nami lent me some of her power earlier, I can summon the one she has a pact with. Sanji will charm the snake and we’ll get out.” turning the corner you let the serpent rush by in a close call. You had little time to call on the demon before Nola circled around you and killed all of you. “Sanji, come to me….please.”

“Real convincing.”

“You try summoning someone when you never had powers in your life.”

“Don’t you remember how Nami did it.”

“He was already with us then!”

In a burst of smoke, he appeared. Stopping Ace and you from continuing to argue. “Who summons me this late at night? You better have a good excuse- Oh hello, sweet-cheeks. I thought you were my master. How’d you summ-”

“No time! Charm the snake!” You needed to say the spell Nami had chanted before to create a link between the both of you, but you didn’t think you would need it so you didn’t bother to remember it. “I don’t know the spell Nami used, just transform!” You yelled at Sanji, hoping that by some miracle you could actually get it to work. “Do you actually think th-” A burst of power interrupted Ace’s rant. It had a more overpowering feeling to it. The power you pulled of him was stronger than what Nami was able to take out. Sanji moaned, reveling in the power you gave him. He hasn’t felt so much power in such a long time. “Baby doll, we’re having fun after this,” Sanji stated before flying off to find the serpent’s head. “Like hell you are.” Kid pulled you into himself, not wanting Sanji to get his grubby hands on you. “Protective of your master, are we?” Ace’s teasing tone set off Kid. Yelling that it was nothing like that and that he would never have feelings for a weak human, much less one who held a pact with him. Has he had bad encounters with other people that have pacts with him?

Sanji came back, Nola following close by. He scooped you up, giving you a ride tot he top of Nola. “Come on, we don’t have all night!” Kid was furious. How dare he touch you. It was just the pact he had with you that made him act this way. He wasn’t jealous nor did he care for how you seemed to blush when Sanji placed you between his legs to ‘make sure you didn’t fall off’. Kid was just cranky because his plan didn’t go as planned and he couldn’t make bank on a picture of his brother sleeping. That’s all!

Back in your room, Kid refused to leave. He wasn’t gonna leave you alone with that guy! He was already giving you bedroom eyes! “Y/n look into my eyes.” He ordered and you obliged. Why would you do that, you dumb-ass. “Y/N, don’t!”

Nothing happened… Was something supposed to happen? “That’s strange. Once you looked into my eyes you should have fallen under my spell. “ Sanji scooted closer in your bed, Lips barely touching your ear, “All mine. Let’s try again.” Was that really his plan? “Get off my bed. Let me sleep.” Ace threw a pillow at you two from his bed. “Shut up I’m trying to sleep. I was chased by a snake twice today!”

“Newsflash, everyone did.” Kid crawled onto your bed from the other side, effectively trapping you from each side. “I’m not leaving if you’re gonna be staying in the same room as him.” Sanji awed at his brother’s cuteness, “I wanted our first time to be by ourselves, but how can I resist such an adorable display!” Sanji cooed at Kid while a blush blossomed on his face, “Shut up! We’re not doing anything like that!”

“Maybe not, but I do want something to come out of tonight,” He gently grabbed your face, turning you to look at him. His hands were warm on your skin, fitting so nicely on the curve of your jaw. Eyes locking with yours, complete seriousness befalling his lustrous gaze. It was intimate. “I want you to make a pact with me.” 

“O-okay…” Sanji chuckled at your tongue-tied speech. Who could blame you, though. You hadn’t expected this. You’d jumped through botched hoops to make pacts with the other brothers. Most of the time it wasn’t the best circumstances that made them want to do it either. You’d plundered in their affairs and reaped more than you’ve sowed. for him to just asked you, it was miraculous. “I-i don’t know what to say. T-thank you.”

Kid huffed at your keenness to make the pact. Wrapping a protective arm around your waist he pulled you down to lay next to him. He didn’t like that you kept making pacts with his brothers, but he couldn’t stop you. He wasn’t your - well anything, other than a demon you made a pact with. It was common for witches to have many pacts with different demons, though it bothered him nonetheless. Probably just as much as having Sanji settled down with the both of you, burying his head underneath your chin. It’ll be a long night, at least for him. He had to keep Sanji’s grubby hands off of you after all.

[izzy-b-hands]

Usurp The Throne

So I’m taking a stab at the other part of my Horror Movie AU with Ghost, and this is also technically part of the NOLA AU as I have it taking place with Eugene living there with Snafu, so both tags are gonna be on this one!

if y’all have never looked them up or heard them, give ‘em a whirl. It’s catchy Swedish metal with a hint of pop...idk magic? I can’t describe it exactly it just works. 

The song in question that inspired this one can be listened to right here: 

https://open.spotify.com/track/4yrxgaL6zAsxkeMCwCtORS

I might do more of these based on more songs, but we’ll see how this one goes first. If nothing else, I’m def indulging myself here but I can’t help it lol. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!!

“That’s a goddamn zombie,” Snafu stuttered, and dashed away from the window, his eyes wide. 

“Very funny,” Eugene replied as he flipped to the next page in his book. “It isn’t even Halloween, but nice try. You aren’t gonna get me this time though. Not like last time with the vampires.” 

“That was funny though,” Snafu chuckled. “Poor thing, thinkin’ we had vampire neighbors.”

“After they party all night, every night, they look like ‘em. Still wish I could convince them to sleep for a night then come over for brunch,” Eugene sighed. “They seem like nice people, but they keep turnin’ me down.” 

“Maybe this gal will wanna come in for a nightcap,” Snafu said, slowly approaching the window again, as if something would come bursting through it. 

“You’re still tryin’ this, really? Okay, show me this spooky zombie,” Eugene set down his book on the coffee table, pulled himself from the comfort of the couch, and walked to the window. 

She was...rotting. There was no nice way to put it, no bush to beat around because the whole garden was already burned down. She dripped with the moss of the swamps from the outside of town, her bone exposed on various limbs, bits of muscle and gristle still hanging to some. And she was headed towards their door. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eugene backed away from the window, and searched for his Bible on the nearby bookshelf. “Is the door locked? Make sure it’s locked, and we can push the couch in front of-Snafu!” 

Snafu was at the door, and had opened it, staring at the woman as she stepped in front of him. 

“May I come inside? It’s so dreadfully cold tonight...” 

“It is August, and I have sweated through two shirts today,” Eugene said briskly, gently moving Snafu aside from the door. “But that’s what you say no matter what time of year it is, don’t you?” 

The woman’s eyes were somehow intact, though cloudy enough that he wondered how she could even see to walk around. “What year is it?” 

“1947,” Snafu piped up from behind him. “What year was it when you died?” 

“Merriell!” Eugene scolded. “Please don’t encourage this!” 

“She’s a real, live zombie! You tellin’ me we really aren’t gonna let her in and ask some questions?” 

Eugene sighed in desperation and frustration. “No, I don’t really want a dead woman in our house. Why on earth do you?” 

The woman’s sniffling caught his attention, and his glare fell. 

“I...how awful do I look?” she asked. “It was 1760...I was waiting for my sweetheart near her work and...” 

She broke out into gasping sobs, despite there apparently being no fluid left in her to create tears. 

“Okay, come in, come in. Not gonna leave a crying woman in the street, even if you are dead,” Eugene said, moving aside to let her in. 

“Do you remember what happened? Who killed you?” Snafu’s eyes were wide, with curiosity now instead of fear. 

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Please...” 

“I’m sorry. It’s just...I mean...well, not often we have a guest like you,” Snafu said. 

“Or guests period,” Eugene remarked, thinking of the neighbors. 

“I...where do I go? What do I do? Why am I awake again?” the woman was suddenly encased in a fear of her own, and reached out to grab Snafu’s hand. “What curse is this?” 

Snafu stared at her hand on his, the bone of her fingers visible in her viscera that should have been so much more decayed than it was, and Eugene caught his eye to try and calm him. 

“Look. I...this is is far out of my range of what I know that I can’t even begin to explain it,” he said as he motioned for all of them to sit on the couch, though he feared for cleaning the couch later. “But maybe we can help. Somehow. I’m not really sure how...” 

“I just wish I knew why,” she sighed. “I mean...I remember some things after.” 

“Like what?” Snafu asked, a look of horror on his face. 

“The alligators. I never feared them much in life, but they were hungry. I don’t blame them for what they did,” she said, and with growing terror Eugene noted the scrape and bite marks on some of her exposed bone. 

“Could you feel it?” Snafu looked like he had thousands of questions behind his eyes, spinning in his head, but he seemed to be holding back for the woman’s sake. 

She nodded. “It wasn’t exactly painful just...sensation. But I fell back asleep then...or died again, however you want to put it. I mean, I must have been dead already. I must be now.” 

“Y’know,” Snafu said. “The city has a bit of a reputation now. For some spookiness. If you don’t...fall back asleep, maybe you could capitalize on that.” 

“How is she gonna do that?” Eugene asked. “Move in down the street and make herself a roadside attraction? That’s no way to live...er, or not live.” 

“Nah, nah. The swamps. How cool and creepy would it be, for there to be a myth of a Zombie Queen, haunting the swamp. Reigning over it all. If you wanna pass through, you better look out for her,” Snafu grinned, and gently took her hand in his. “You could do it, I bet.” 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she said softly. “I just want...I don’t know. To be somewhere safe. Your face when you saw me...I must look horrible. I can’t stay near town, or I’ll scare everyone.” 

“Exactly! You get your peace in the swamp, maybe take over one of the abandoned cabins out that way. Make an appearance every now and again to creep people out, and they’ll fear you but leave you be cause they know if they bug you, maybe somethin’ bad’ll happen. But nothin’ bad has to happen; we’ll just start the rumors that somethin’ would. We could do that, right, Eugene?” 

It wasn’t a bad idea. He felt for her, even as some of her flesh fell off of her onto the floor. She wasn’t the malevolent creature come to attack them like he’d thought. She was hurt and scared and lonely, and it seemed hadn’t even known really that she was dead until now. She deserved peace, if she was to deal with having been brought back to something near life by some unknown force. 

“I think we could do that. We travel out to the swamps on occasion, and I think we could report back a haunted cabin everyone should avoid for their own safety, and the sighting of a powerful and terrifying Zombie Queen, who commands the creatures of the swamp and has defeated death itself,” he replied. 

If she could have blushed, he figured she would have been, her eyelash-free lids fluttering softly as she giggled. “That’s a lot. But I like it. I just want to be left alone. Maybe get to fall back asleep again, and hopefully never wake up like this.” 

They drove her out of town towards the nearest swamp, after making a stop at the home of one of the queens they knew who had dresses that were being rotated out of their closet. 

The woman looked queenly now, in a thick black velvet gown, covered in sequins. It clung just closely enough to show off the shape of her exposed rib-cage, and she smiled as they traveled. 

At the edge of the swamp, they got out with her, looking out into the mossy waters. 

“You ready, Zombie Queen?” Snafu asked. 

Again, Eugene could envision the blush that would have colored her face. “I think so. I...you didn’t have to help me. You could have more easily hurt me and dumped me somewhere else. And you’d be justified, given how strange this all is...” 

“We’ve dealt with weird things before. This won’t be the last thing, I’m sure,” Eugene smiled. “I do have to ask though, before you go: what’s your name? We can’t just call you Zombie Queen to everyone.” 

“Clara,” she replied. “But I don’t know if that’s a real queenly name. My sweetheart, now she had the queenly name. She was a queen, to me.” 

His heart dropped in sorrow. “What was her name?” 

“Delphine. Do you think you could use that instead? I think it sounds better...and then whenever anyone is talking about me, it’ll be sort of like they’re talking about both of us,” she said. 

“Zombie Queen Delphine,” Snafu smiled, but Eugene could see the tears at the corners of his eyes. “We’ll start spreadin’ word as soon as we get back to town.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled gently, and turned to the water. As she walked into it, it was as if the animals in the water somehow knew, and respected her new title. The alligators in the water all popped up around her, not attacking her, but watching, creating a sort of aisle for her to walk down as she drifted towards the other shore, far away, where one of the abandoned homes they had found in trips previous sat. 

 They held hands on the ride home, both of them asking the same question in their heads. If it was them in Clara (or rather, Delphine’s) situation, would they be strong enough to deal with living without each other? 

He wanted to think yes, but he knew that he couldn’t truly know for sure if it wouldn’t drive him mad. To be stuck somewhere between life and death, hundreds of years later, with Snafu dead and gone. He admired her strength and ability to tackle her new life, or whatever you would call what she had now. 

For now, he relished the feeling of Snafu’s hand in his, and focused on appearing as scared as possible for when they got back into town. They’d really have to sell it, and he was prepared to make sure everyone they met believed in the Zombie Queen Delphine, ruler of the swamp. 

[nate-walsh]

unwedded

Sooooo, it’s good to periodically take your life and just spike it into the fucking ground, right? That’s a good healthy smart good thing, right? Blow it up and start fresh? “When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire?”

Well. Either way, here we are. 

Let me catch you up.

I was going to be married. Had a big old party planned (and trust me, it was gonna be a good one) and a big old life planned (presumably also a good one). We were going to say, “fuck kids,” and keep on keeping on with all of our various little unreasonable adventures, basically indefinitely. We were going to move around a lot, see all the places we wanted to see – NOLA, LA, Amsterdam. (We were semi-seriously talking about heading to Buenos Aires after the wedding.) Elli was going to maybe work her way up to a place where I maybe didn’t have to work, and I could go back to school or write a book and get my spirit back. I was going to have siblings, I was going to be an uncle. I was going to have a person, a partner, someone to grow old with. We were going to totter around as cute little seniors. We were going to take care of each other. It was going to be a whole thing.

And then, in the space of 6 days, it suddenly wasn’t. Elli is gone, and we’re done, and here I am alone. It’s pretty wild, honestly. 

I’m not really going to get into the why. We talked it over with our therapist – shout out to Dr. Jessica; you’re incredible! – and we established the official party line: Things happened that made us realize that, while we could be lifelong friends, we couldn’t be lifelong partners. That’s all true, but it’s obviously not everything – in fact, it’s pretty damn vague. You know me, left to my own devices, I’d spill my guts all over the place. But it’s not just my story, so sorry, nosy Nellies, I’m going to have to keep this one under my hat.

It was a strange few final days, which I am sure will come as no surprise. We bought all of these fireworks on our drive out to Austin, and finally, our last night together, we finally set them off, in the middle of a field in Garfield, TX – throwing back Hello Kitty cups of prosecco. It was sad and lovely. We got matching heart tattoos – also sad and lovely – hopefully because we’re not done with each other, in some form or other. But, at the very least, because we wanted to mark this not-so-little mile marker in our lives.

I’m always going to love Elli. She is wonderful and honestly the kindest, best person I know. She actively made me better, more thoughtful, more forgiving, more empathetic. She basically killed the fundamental attribution error in me, which is pretty wacky. She was a great partner – funny, goofy, adventurous and cheerfully nihilistic in the same way I am: “Money’s fake, and we’re all going to die, so let’s have fun.” She’s always going to be family and one of my best friends, even if we never talk again. I hope we do, though. I think we will. Neither of us is the sort to be angry or mean or bitter. We’re de-escalators. That’s one of the things I liked about us.

I keep waiting for the big sad to hit, the devastation, but maybe I got it out in the week things ended. Maybe it’s the pills that are keeping me from wiping out. Mostly I feel a little lonely, a little worried about what’s next, and not really ready for any of it. I feel like a little kid, unequipped for being a mature adult in the real world. It’s suddenly much much clearer all the things Elli did to keep us afloat. And now I am my own little life preserver. And I feel like I’ve got a few leaks.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do next. I’m 35 and starting over. Basically everyone I know my age is settled in a marriage, saddled up with a kid. I’ve always deviated from the path a bit, sure, but now I’m starting to feel like a fuck-up instead of a nonconformist.

I’ve got a little less than 2 months to figure out my next move. Stay in Austin? Head back to the Bay Area? Try somewhere new? (“I’ve never lived in LA, but I always wanted to.”) I’ll probably get into this some more in a bit, but it’s definitely hanging over me. The world is my oyster, but I don’t really feel like shucking the fucker yet.

It’s weird doing things as a 1 when you’re used to being a 2. The little routines now seem bizarre and strange. Elli decided we should take some time off from talking, which I think is healthy and smart. But it’s weird suddenly going from having one person who is kind of your whole life and who’s always there and who you know all the things about, and then suddenly, NOPE. And not only that – you don’t just lose the person, you lose the whole life you’d planned together in your mind. None of this is news, I suppose. (This is why I don’t write much these days. I’m not sure I have anything new to say that hasn’t been said by someone better than me. Also because advertising is crushing my soul, haha.)

People have been reaching out, which is nice. But I'm having a hard time. Turns out I don't talk to people very much. Which isn't as big of a deal when you've got one person as a permanent lifeline. Now, though, I realize the distance I've created is a pretty dumb mistake on my part. I have people I love, who love me, and we could talk, and I could form better relationships, but I keep to myself mostly. The crazy, I guess. Don’t want to risk inflicting myself on people. 

I actually don’t mind the loneliness a lot of the time. It’s harder out in the world – weird sad dinners, no one to talk to at concerts – but at home, just me and Cat, it hardly feels like I need anyone. That’s not true, though, and not healthy. I worry I’m going to lose my ability to talk to people; it’s already atrophied since we moved here. I worry I’m going to forget how to do jokes. I worry about becoming a total hermit, dying alone and weird.

ALL THIS SAID, though, I don’t think it was a mistake, us ending things. It’s going to be hard, probably for a good long while, but I think it’s right that it happened. There’s this line from Dwight on The Office – “I think they both can do better.” That’s about right, I think – we both deserve a little more than we were getting, and I’m hopeful that we’re both going to get it. Because I’m nothing if not an idiot optimist. 

(And, at least it happened before we married – and before we spent too too much on flowers and canapés and shit.)

I’m most inclined to write when I’m down or fraught, you’ve maybe noticed. So, for all of you folks hungering for Nate Walsh content the past 5 years, we’re back in the game, baby! I just have to remember how to do this whole thing.

[teamfreewill-imagine]

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Thirty-Six

Summary: Things are tense after your secret is revealed but, by the time you get to NOLA, everything seems to be getting better. When Jared wakes up on your birthday, he realises that might not be the case. Words: 4k Jared x Reader x Gen, Jensen, Danneel, Gino, JJ, Dallas (OC) Warnings: angst Beta: birthday girl @blacksiren

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You and Dallas stayed in Vancouver while everyone else went back to Texas that weekend.

The original plan was for you to go down with them, putting Bailey in the kennels so you could all go to Austin City Limits, but you just weren’t in the mood.

You’d been sleeping on the couch for the last few days, despite Jared and Gen’s insistence that you should come to bed with them. You just couldn’t bring yourself to join them.

Everyone was walking on eggshells around you, unsure what to say and being careful not to mention anything that could upset you.

You helped the kids pack up their bedroom on Thursday, putting their clothes in their cases and their bedsheets in the washing machine.

You hugged each of them tight, waving from the doorstep as they piled into the cars for the airport.

“Come with us,” Jared pleaded as he held Dallas, kissing the top of her head.

“I’d just be a downer,” you reminded him. “I want y’all to have fun. A couple days apart might do us good.”

He didn’t look convinced but he didn’t press you, leaning in for a final kiss before handing Dallas back over.

“I’ll see you on Sunday night,” you murmured, making him sniff as he nodded. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” he smiled sadly. “Love you, too.”

You spent the weekend trying to tidy your house, changing the sheets not only on the kids’ beds, but on Jensen’s and your own, too.

You wanted everything to be fresh and clean by the time that Jared and Jensen got back, and it wasn't as if you had anything else to do.

The first night without them there, you tried to sleep in your bed again.

It felt wrong, being in that huge bed all by yourself, so you brought Dallas’ side sleeper downstairs, so that you wouldn’t have to go up to her nursery if she got fussy, and stuck to the couch.

Seeing Genevieve’s instagram live on Friday night had a twinge of regret running through you as you watched your family and friends having a great time without you. They were all happily drunk, buzzing with excited energy and for a moment you wished you’d just gone along with them.

The next morning you were glad you didn’t as you witnessed the hate unfold on Danneel and even Genevieve, people claiming that their night off made them terrible mothers.

You knew that if you were there, you’d have got it even worse. Plus, you were still underage for a couple weeks, so if you’d been pleasantly buzzed along with them you’d be labelled a bad influence as well as a shit mom.

Still, you couldn’t bear to see the mean comments that some ‘fans’ had posted go without any kind of reaction.

You didn’t reply directly, knowing that it would create more shit for all of you if you did, but you composed a new tweet and sent it off before putting your phone down and leaving it for the rest of the day.

Being alone with Dallas for a few days was strange.

You didn’t have full conversations with anyone apart from brief interactions at the store or while walking Bailey, and the isolated time with Dallas had you noticing more and more about how she’d grown in her five short weeks of life.

She’d hold her feet, reach for your hand or her toys if you held them close to her - her understanding of her own body growing by the day.

You could show her things and she’d watch with interest, her little face copying yours as best as she could while you spoke to her.

By Sunday evening, the two of you had even worked up somewhat of a routine when it came to feeding or sleeping, knowing she was tired by huge yawns coming from her tiny body as she balled her fists and rubbed her eyes.

You were feeding her on the couch, Bailey laying on the rug in front of you as you curled up under a blanket, stroking through the soft hair at the back of Dallas’ head in the dimly lit front room when Jared and Jensen arrived home.

“Daddy and Grandpa are home,” you murmured, your daughter blinking lazily up at you as she continued to feed. “Good thing you’re nearly done, huh? They’re gonna want cuddles.”

Jensen put his head around the door, smiling at the sight of you.

“We’re gonna go put our cases upstairs but then we’ll be right down, ‘kay?” he asked, and you smiled.

“Sure,” you agreed. “We’ll be here.”

Bailey hadn’t moved from her spot, facing away from the door, and you couldn’t wait for the moment that she realised they were home.

Jared was the first to come down, and his steps into the front room had Bailey’s tail wagging as she felt the vibration of his feet underneath her.

“Welcome back,” you told him, and he smiled as he approached.

Bailey got to her feet, her tail wagging as fast as you’d seen it as he crouched in front of her.

She sniffed him all over, licking his face until he playfully pushed her face away.

“You missed me, huh?” Jared grinned, fussing her as she continued to sniff at him. “You can smell Arlo, can’t you, girl?”

“Did you have a good break?” you asked quietly as he got to his feet.

“Yeah,” he smiled, looking at you a little sadly. “Missed you, though.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, stroking Dallas’ hair again. “Us, too.”

“I’m gonna go wash up after that Bailey bath,” he teased, scritching between her ears. “Hopefully by then I’ll be able to hold my baby.”

“She’s on boob number two,” you informed him, making him laugh softly. “Go freshen up, you’ve had a long flight.”

“Jackles wants Chinese, so I think we’re having a lazy evening,” he told you, motioning for Bailey to sit and calm down.

“Sounds good to me,” you agreed, letting Dallas grab at your finger.

Dallas was down in her nursery when you and Jared called it a night, the two of you making your way upstairs after you pressed a kiss to Jensen’s cheek.

“I noticed the bed wasn’t slept in,” Jared commented as the two of you got changed, and you nodded despite facing away from him.

“I stuck with the couch,” you explained, opening your pyjama drawer and knowing exactly which set you were going to choose. “Felt wrong.”

“Alright,” he murmured. “I’m gonna check on Dal.”

You hummed in agreement, leaning into him as he pressed a kiss to your temple before leaving the room.

You quickly changed into the shirt and boxers from that first night over nine months ago, always loving the way that his clothes drowned your smaller frame.

You pulled your hair up into a loose bun for sleeping, checking the baby monitor before turning out the main light and leaving the room in the gentle glow of your bedside lamp.

Jared returned as you stretched your arms above your head, your back clicking in the process.

His eyes roamed over your choice of pyjamas, a small, confused smile forming on his lips.

You got into bed, patting the space beside you.

Once he was under the covers, you rolled onto your side to face him, searching his questioning eyes.

“Can we… can we pretend this week never happened?” you asked, quietly.

He reached out a hand to cup your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I’d love to pretend I wasn’t such a dick to you,” he whispered, “But I can’t forget… what you told me.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch.

“I don’t want you to,” you admitted softly. “I don’t really want to talk about it, but I’m not asking you to forget. I just want to forget the argument and the way I acted after.”

Jared leaned in, pressing a gentle but firm kiss to your lips.

“Of course,” he murmured. “But I don’t blame you for any of it, you’ve got to know that. I was… I was insecure, and I was mean. I forced you to share with me something so personal- your reaction was understandable. I hope you can forgive me.”

You nodded, kissing him again, this time longer and full of emotion.

“I love you,” you told him, shifting your body closer as he moved his hand to your waist, pulling you in.

“I love you, too,” he promised.

“Let’s not fight again,” you murmured, snuggling up to him and tucking your head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around you. “I’ve missed you.”

“We missed you, too,” he told you, kissing the top of your head. “But you were right. I think the space did us good.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, kissing his shoulder. “But I’m happy to be back in this bed with you.”

“No more wallowing on the couch,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna facetime with Gen tomorrow,” you informed him, “While y’all are filming.”

Jared’s hand ran up and down your back as he hummed in agreement.

“She’d like that,” he whispered, leaning over to switch off the lamp. “Let’s get some sleep while Dal is quiet.”

You nodded against his chest as he rearranged his body to get comfortable.

“Love you,” you repeated as he tangled his legs with yours beneath the sheets.

“Love you, too,” he assured you, kissing your head again.

For the first time in days, you managed to drift into sleep without trouble.

The current episode barely involved Trinity at all, no doubt due to your lack of composure on the Skype call over summer, despite it being one of your eighteen contracted episodes, so you had a lot of alone time even after Jared and Jensen returned.

You called Gen while they were on set, grateful to be able to talk with her alone for the first time since the incident in the upstairs hallway.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she told you when you brought it up. “I wouldn’t have told him.”

“I know,” you assured her. “But… I don’t know, I spoke to him yesterday. I think I’m glad he knows, in a way. One less secret.”

“Yeah,” she smiled sadly, something in her eyes changing as she looked down from the screen. “I was… It’s silly, now, but I was worried that you might not be there when the boys got back.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, starting to make your way upstairs with your phone in hand as Dallas began to fuss from her nap.

“I wondered if maybe you didn’t come with us because you were going to leave,” she admitted.

The thought of leaving, of packing up and running away, hadn’t crossed your mind since that morning back in Austin before your adoption was even a thought in the air.

It broke your heart that Genevieve was still worried that you might be a flight risk.

“I just needed some time,” you told her. “I think… I don’t know. But I was never going to leave.”

She nodded and you rested your phone on the shelf as you walked over to pick up your daughter, knowing from the tone of her cry that she just needed some contact with her mama.

“Alright, that’s enough cryin’ baby,” you told her, walking back over to your phone and pointing to Gen’s face on the screen. “Who’s this?”

“Bambina,” Gen cooed, “Be good for your mama, please.”

“She’s just grumpy because mean old mama tried to get her to nap,” you explained, making Gen laugh.

“You’re not mean or old,” she reminded you. “But I should leave you to be a mama. Gotta pick up the boys soon.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, picking up your phone so that you could make your way back downstairs with Dallas. “Gotta take the dog out before the bigger boys get back.”

“Fun mama jobs for us all,” Gen smiled, and you smiled in return. “Glad things are looking up.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Love you.”

“Love you,” she blew a kiss. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you promised, blowing a kiss back and waving Dallas’ arm as you hung up.

You went with Jensen to the tattoo studio on Thursday, giving Jared and Dallas some bonding time together.

The design was gorgeous, a real tribute to JJ, and Jensen was grateful to have you along for moral support and as a distraction.

“Have you got any ink?” Jason - Jensen’s tattooist - asked you while he gave Jensen’s skin a moment to breathe.

“Oh, no,” you admitted, swinging your legs as they didn’t quite reach the floor from your stool. “I love tattoos, I just…”

Jensen raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue as Jason resumed shading his tattoo.

“I guess I have commitment issues,” you shrugged. “Never had a lot of permanency until the old man took me in-”

“Less of the ‘old’, missy,” Jensen warned, his tone and expression fonder than his words.

Jason frowned at you, and you laughed slightly as you self consciously scratched the back of your neck.

“What?” you asked, and he shook his head.

“You guys aren’t blood?” he clarified.

“Nope,” you confirmed. “They adopted me a couple months ago.”

He nodded in understanding, his steady hand and eyes still focussed on his task.

“You’re close,” he commented. “It’s cool to see fathers being close with their daughters.”

Jensen smiled across at you and you offered a bashful smile back.

“Well, this dad loves his daughter so much that he’s going through hours of pain to get a permanent tribute to her,” you reminded him. “He’s a great father.”

“I have my moments,” Jensen agreed, a slight blush rising at the compliment growing on his cheeks until he decided to change the subject. “Have you ever thought about getting any? Tattoos, I mean. You already have a daughter.”

You laughed softly, biting your lip in thought.

“Yeah,” you told him. “I’ve had a couple of ideas, but I’ve never been happy enough with them to bring myself to do it.”

“I get that,” Jensen agreed. “I mean, we’ve had JJ for years and I’m only just getting around to this, so there’s no rush.”

“Yeah,” you hummed, crossing your legs. “No rush.”

By the time you left for New Orleans, your relationship with Jared had almost gone back to normal.

It took a frank conversation consisting of you assuring him that he didn’t need to treat you any differently than he did before anything came out, but after that you were really working on building your relationship back to what it was.

You were surprised to find JJ sitting on your bed when you checked into your hotel, a wide grin on her face as a squeal left your lips.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, letting go of Dallas’ stroller so you could pull your little sister into a hug.

“Mama’s comin’ to the convention,” she explained, holding you tight. “So she let me come, too.”

“Mama’s here?” you asked, picking her up onto your hip and turning to face Jared as he carried your bags in. “Did you know?”

“That Danneel was coming to the con?” he clarified, and you nodded. “Yeah. She’s from here. Her and Gino are gonna run a Family Business Beer stand.”

“Uncle G is here, too?” you grinned, bubbling with excitement. “This is gonna be the best weekend.”

“Glad you’re happy,” Jared murmured, stepping towards you and placing a firm kiss to your lips. “I’ve got Dal. Go see your family.”

JJ reached up to kiss Jared’s cheek as you held her on your hip, earning a soft laugh from both of you.

“Love ya, Uncle Jare.”

“Love you, too, little birdie,” he grinned, gently patting your ass to get you moving. “Go. See Momma D. Me and Jay can keep Dallas entertained while you catch up.”

“You’re the best,” you told him, letting JJ down so you could lean in to kiss Dallas’ cheek. “Be good for your daddy.”

JJ took your hand and started to lead you towards the door.

“Mama wants to take you ‘splorin’ the city,” she told you, and you laughed softly.

“We’re gonna explore?” you clarified, and she nodded as she waited for you to open the door.

“Yep.”

You hadn’t expected your afternoon out with Danneel, Gino, and JJ to end in a tattoo parlour.

You’d just been exploring the city, letting Momma D and Uncle G show you around a place that held a lot of happy memories for them growing up.

Danneel caught you looking into the window of a tattoo shop as you passed, a small smile growing on her face.

“You getting the urge to get inked?” she asked as Gino picked up a tired JJ onto his hip.

You laughed, biting your lip as you looked at some of the designs in the window.

“I mean…” you trailed off as you noticed Danneel grinning at you.

“If you’re game, I am,” she told you, raising an eyebrow.

You looked between her and Gino, earning a shrug from the latter.

“She’s impulsive,” he reminded you. “I can take the little one back to the hotel if you want to go in and check it out.”

“C’mon, Ditto,” Danneel grinned, reaching for your hand. “I’ve got one for the twins. Jensen has one for JJ. It’s about time we got one for you.”

“I didn’t even bring my wallet,” you laughed as you took her outstretched hand.

“Call it an early birthday present,” she shrugged, kissing your cheek before looking up at her brother. “You sure you’re good with the little one?”

“Uh, duh,” he smiled, kissing JJ’s cheek and making her giggle. “We’ll have fun. Go, check it out.”

“Love ya,” Danneel told him before squeezing your hand. “Let’s look. If you don’t want anything, you can just help me choose something for me.”

“Sounds like a deal,” you agreed, waving back at JJ as Danneel lead you inside.

After your experience at the last convention, Creation had agreed to keep your stage time minimal to try and prevent any more backlash.

You only had one panel, together with Misha on Saturday, and the rest of your time was spent between autographs, photo ops, and helping Gino and Danneel with their booth in the vendor’s room.

Having your family at the convention meant that you could leave Dallas with them while you and Jared were busy without people hating on you for leaving her with a stranger.

You made your way through to the vendor’s room on Sunday afternoon, after you were completely done with photo ops for the whole convention, to find Gino and Danneel talking to fans at their stall, Gino holding Dallas as people asked for selfies with Danneel.

You walked up behind them, leaning down so that you were by Gino’s ear before speaking.

“Abducting children is frowned upon,” you told him, revelling in the way his shoulders jumped before he realised it was you.

“So is sneaking up on people,” he retorted, grinning over his shoulder at you. “Besides, Dal’s family.”

“True,” you grinned as you straightened up. “I can take her back now, though. All done.”

“Or,” he bargained, “You can help me sell these lovely people our merch while I get to snuggle the baby.”

You laughed softly, pulling up a seat beside him as you smiled at the fans.

“Sorry, y’all,” you apologised as the line waited patiently. “Uncle G met Dal for the first time this weekend. I think she’s a hit.”

They laughed as Danneel rested her hand on your shoulder.

“Y’all are lucky,” she told them. “Three generations of the family here while you get your Family Business merch.”

“Y/N’s part of the brewery?” someone asked, and Gino frowned.

“Well, yeah,” he laughed slightly. “I mean, not officially until she’s twenty-one, but very much so.”

“I’m technically not allowed to be involved until Tuesday,” you expanded, linking your fingers with Danneel’s at your shoulder as she tensed at the question. “But… the brand is the ‘Family Business’, so-”

“She’s family,” Danneel added. “As much as I am. As much as Jensen is.”

The fan that had asked the question nodded nervously, trying to shrink back into the line as Danneel leant down and kissed your temple.

“When are they gonna get it?” she murmured, and you shrugged, smiling sadly.

“I don’t know, Mama,” you breathed. “I don’t know.”

Jared woke up in your Vancouver home on Tuesday morning to the gentle tune of his alarm.

You both had the day off for your birthday, so he kept his eyes closed as he reached to switch it off before rolling over to wrap his arm around you.

Only, his arm was met with nothing but duvet.

He blinked his tired eyes open with a frown, taking in the room around him.

Your side of the bed was empty and cold and the door through to the hallway was completely closed.

You usually left it open when you were sleeping, doing the same with Dallas’ nursery door so you could hear her fussing even if the baby monitor failed.

Jared threw back the covers, pulling on a pair of boxers before making his way to the door.

His heart was racing as he reached Dallas’ nursery to find it just as empty as your bed.

He tried to take deep breaths to stop himself from panicking, but nothing seemed to work as neither you nor his daughter were in Tom and Shep’s room, either.

He rushed downstairs, racing through the house for any sign of where you were, but there was nothing to calm his hammering heart.

Running out of ideas, he made his way back upstairs, knocking insistently on Jensen’s bedroom door.

“Ugh,” Jensen grumbled through the door. “I don’t have to be at work until this afternoon.”

As soon as he opened the door and he was faced with Jared’s worried expression, all grogginess went away.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” he asked, and Jared looked around the room fruitlessly.

“Y/N,” he breathed, tears prickling in his eyes. “She’s not here; she’s gone.”

“What?” Jensen asked, resting his hands on Jared’s shoulders to try and get him to calm down. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not here,” he repeated. “She’s taken Dallas and she’s gone, Jay. I’ve looked everywhere. She’s got Dal’s stroller and diaper bag, her purse and coat. She’s gone.”

Jensen felt his own heart begin to race but he tried to stay calm for Jared’s sake.

“Have you tried calling her?”

Jared shook his head, so Jensen grabbed his cell from his nightstand and dialed your number on speaker.

“Hey, you’ve reached the voicemail of Y/N Ackles. Don’t bother to leave a message. Just text me, I hate phone calls.”

Your voicemail message usually made them laugh, but at this point it just made them more anxious.

“She’s gone,” Jared repeated, and Jensen didn’t know how to reply.

The sharp ring of the doorbell grabbed their attention, Jared’s eyes widening at the sound.

“Maybe she just forgot her key,” Jensen offered as Jared rushed down the stairs, practically running to get to the door.

“Surprise!” Gen grinned as the door opened, frowning as she saw Jared shirtless on the other side. “Babe, you were supposed to get Y/N to answer the door.”

“I know, I-” Jared cut himself off, trying to sniff back tears, “I know.”

“Babe?” she asked, stepping closer and reaching up to cup his cheeks. “What’s going on?”

He sniffed again, swallowing to clear the thickness in his throat.

“She’s missing,” he told her, a tear falling down his cheek as he blinked. “Y/N’s gone.”

tags are closed because this always takes me forever

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[johngerberarticle]

The crazy, wonderfully amazing shit my dad did and a bunch of other things you didn’t know about him.

This article originally appeared in the October 2011 issue of Uno Magazine.

Written by Ryan Gerber

When I was 5 years old I met my father for the first time.

I was terrified and confused and I just wanted to go back to where I had come from. I didn’t know this family. I didn’t know this island and I didn’t know this giant with a mustache who was calling me son. I was just a scared kid, unaware of my surroundings or the complicated relationship of my two parents. And yet, there I was, fresh off of a flight from Honolulu and unable to make eye contact with this family of noses, called the Gerber’s. This was my family and this was my induction.

The year was 1982 and the mustache belonged to a young John Gerber. Now, unlike most of the people on the island at that time, I knew very little about this man. I knew nothing of his time in Vietnam, or that he had a first wife that went by the name Nola and I definitely didn’t know him as Johnny G, the polyester clad DJ of the Wireless Rock show on KUAM. To me, he was just a man who went by the name Dad. 27 Years later I buried my father. With me, was a slightly bigger family of Gerber’s and an entire island of friends and family who all lost something on the morning of May 4th, 2010.

Over that stretch of time I got to know a lot about this man. A man who by every definition of the word, would qualify as legend. In fact, I’ve since heard many stories about my Dad and his long and varied legacy. Some tales were tall and others were quite touching. Some were ridiculous and untrue and some just needed to be told again and again. Which is my intention now, to shed light on a man, that so many knew in so many different ways. This is neither a reckless expose nor a blind tribute to an infallible myth. It’s an honest account of a real man from a perspective that you might not have. After all, he played a big part in shaping who I am today … for better or worse. And this is my tribute. I should warn you. This probably won’t be very objective. He was my Dad. So where shall I begin? Perhaps at the beginning.

The Early Years John Vincent Pangelinan Gerber was born on May 31st, 1951. He was the second child of six, that belonged to Martin and Delores Gerber. Many of you will know his siblings as Joyce, Wanda, Debra, Janet and Martin Jr. I know them as my aunts and uncle. I never met my Grandfather as he also died young at the age of 49. Though from what I can gather, he was a strict and particular man, who worked hard and had very high standards for all of his children. Judging by how they all turned out, i’d say this was a good thing. My grandma Lole, on the other hand, I knew very well. She was one of the first Gerber’s to take me in and in a lot of ways, she was the glue that held our clan together. One of my fondest memories as a kid, was our Thursday night dinners. This was the one day of the week, that my grandmother didn’t attend church, so it was the one night of the week that the entire family got together. We barbequed and we made fun of each other and we acted the way most families do, only with a touch more sarcasm. And no matter what was going on in our lives at the time, this was a tradition we held sacred. When she passed away in 1990 none of us were the same and though he tried not to show it, neither was my Dad.

He developed his super powers of persuasion and cunning, early on. Honing them on my grandparents and my aunts first, before practicing them on the general population. As far back as I can remember, I’ve heard tales of my Dad getting people to do extraordinary things on his behalf. Mind you, part of his charm was his own work ethic, while the other part, was actual charm. He was no angel, but he was clever, so it was also better to have him working with you than against.

He had a way with words and a way with people, particularly women. This was reinforced by the name of his high school band, “Every Girls Friend” (Circa 1967). He played guitar and sang. You could probably argue that this was the non-official beginning of his “Wireless Rock” career, but we’ll discuss that in a bit. Later, he would go on to teach me how to play the guitar, specifically with the song Rocky Racoon off the white album. And it’s safe to say, that evidence of his personality is visible in all of his children.

Yes. It was quite clear that my Dad possessed that extra something. That extra something that made him special.

Vietnam In 1965 the US began deploying troops into Vietnam and in 1969 my Dad graduated from George Washington High School. He wasn’t yet 18 when he walked into the recruitment offices of the United States Marine Corps, so he had to get permission from my Grandparents to enlist. They agreed and he joined. Not much longer after, he was fighting a war in a foreign land, not too far from our own little island.

The next few years between 1969 and 1971 probably did more to shape who my father was than any other period of time. It was also the longest amount of time that he spent off island.

As a kid, he was reluctant to share stories about his time in the marines with me. He’d occasionally tell stories of some crazy drill sergeant or vaguely describe combat, but I was young and though you couldn’t really tell, his time at war had changed him, even more than he knew at the time. Much later, as an adult, I would come to learn more about his experiences and how they motivated him to create the Pacific War Museum and to become an activist for the young men and women who had died for this country and the countless numbers of young soldiers who were on their way to war, currently. His cause was clear and his purpose was just. On June 3rd, 1975, my Dad left the marines as a corporal and by the time he died in 2010, they had made him a Sergeant.

Wireless Rock Now of course, directly after the war, my Dad was in his early twenties and still quite popular. So, he dusted off the polyester and went back to work at KUAM, which was across the street from our house in Ordot at the time. He had worked there as a kid, sweeping up around the studio and playing the occasional camera boy. So when the need for a new late night voice on the KUAM airwaves arose, it was a natural fit.

Even after I left the island in 95, I would occasionally run into stateside fans of JG and the Wireless Rock show. It was a funny thing to witness, but now I take a certain pride in it. I even remember one of my first nights on island, back in 82, sitting with my Grandma Lole and my Uncle Jr listening to the show in the old Gerber living room and getting my first shout out. It was cool then and it’s pretty cool now.

Those that were close to my Dad during this timeframe remember scores of young women hanging out by the station, loads of fan mail, polyester suits and lots of hair. It was also during this time that my Dad launched the Wireless Rock Music Box, his record shop which later became the source of my Uncle Jr.’s enormous album collection.

His show lasted eleven years, from 1972-1983. And by the time he wrapped things up, he had so many other things going on that it was a natural progression, though he still rocked a white vest every now and again.

The Kadena Years During the Wireless Rock era, my Dad also began building boats … And how many of us have the privilege of saying that? Of all of his phases, this was probably my favorite. So much of it was spent on the water enjoying the island from a simpler perspective. Fishing, skiing and playing practical jokes on the tourists he would charter. To me, this was a golden era.

His first boat, was of course, The Wireless Rock, which from a marketing standpoint, you’ve gotta appreciate. This was followed by The Spam, which was followed by a cease and desist order from Hormel, which resulted in a name change to The Chamorrita in 85. He also owned several smaller boats, such as The Wild Cherry andThe Fotgun (which means wet, for all of you haole’s reading this). His crowned jewel however was The Kadena De Amore, which he began building in 1983. It was quite an undertaking, and I am not lying when I say that it had a full disco built right into it. Sadly, a tragic fire in 1986 resulted in the demise of the Kadena and the subsequent transfer of ownership of then, Cabras marina to what is now known as Aqua world Marina in Piti. Though I still hear people call it Gerberville from time to time.

On one charter, we had just docked and my Dad’s good friend, who went by George Palau, caught an Iguana. It was big, maybe 6 feet. Though we warned him, he began antagonizing the reptile by mimicking his lizard tongue. The Japanese tourists were enthralled, but my Dad knew better, warning George “Buddy. You’re gonna lose your tongue…”. He barely finished saying that before the iguana lunged forward biting the tip of Georges tongue with such angry precision that we were all stunned. Tourists were freaking out. We were on the ground laughing (I know it’s mean, but it was funny) and George was running around trying to pull this lizard from out of his mouth. Eventually he did and from that day forward, he had a more distant relationship with reptiles.

These were the types of stories I remember from this time and a lot of those people, I still see out on the water, whenever I come back home for a visit.

Senator Gerber? The 80’s were a time of experimentation for my Dad and while it is not a secret that my father was once the son-in-law of Ricky and Madeleine Bordallo, it is a lesser known fact that he also ran for office in 1986. You read that right. Always up for new challenges, my father ran, but ultimately failed to take a seat in the senate. There were lot’s of reasons for this, and we can post-rationalize, but at the end of the day, I think we can all agree that it worked out for the best.

18 years later, my father pulled a giant billboard dedicated to the 1548 Marines that had died during the liberation of our island. He pulled it from Anderson Airforce base in Yigo to the Naval base in Apra, using a contraption he fashioned out of an old wheelchair and a carabao pull. He did this with the intention of changing the name of Marine drive to Marine Corps Drive as to never let us forget. Governor Felix Camacho officially changed the name on April 13, 2004. The next day. This was how he evolved his political prowess and this was probably the purest representation of how he did things. With passion and with a whole lot of sweat.

Gerber and Sons (+ Daughter) By the 90’s, my Dad had once again, shifted focus. First, at the tender age of 40, he decided to go to college and get his bachelors degree. His professors loved him and his young classmates thought he was the coolest freshman they’d ever met.

Second, he got heavy into what I like to call his Sanford and son years. Salvaging vehicles and doing some construction … basically, a whole lot of physical labor. By this point I had also grown my own (embarrassingly thin) mustache and was working for my Dad part time. He had named his company Gerber and Sons (a name my sister wasn’t very keen on) and all I can remember is sweat. I’m not gonna lie. This was my least favorite time. I went from fishing and diving to sanding and welding. Not that we weren’t doing any of that on the boats, it just had a less magical appeal and well, I was a teenager, so I had my own issues to deal with.

That being said. There were a few pivotal moments that came from this. On Memorial day in 1992, my Dad visited the grave of an old friend and fellow soldier Lance Corporal Rufo San Nicholas. He had died in Vietnam and on his tombstone he was still 19 years old. I remember my Dad saying “I was lucky. Guys came back and had no home, some were disabled or suffering some sort of injury and I barely had a scratch. I had a home. I had work and family. and Rufo  …was still 19.” This was the defining moment that changed everything for my Dad.

In 1994, My dad acquired his first APC. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with that term. He bought a tank. Also known as an Armored Personnel Carrier. He called it the Eve of Destruction and drove it all over Ordot. It’s still on display at the museum as I write this. That year he also took part in the Liberation Day parade using the Eve of Destruction to haul a pre-war Chamorro house down Marine Corp Drive. From this day forward, things just kept moving in that direction.

This is also around the time that he developed his signature work look. Aviators, Boots and T-shirt, tucked squarely into a pair of jean-shorts. Anyone who has ever seen my Father toiling, out in the hot Guam sun will recognize this look.

In 1995, I left the island in pursuit of my own stories and adventures, but before I left, I went on one last adventure with my Dad. There were a bunch of us on this particular mission. My uncle Jr. was there as were my Dad’s good friends John Camacho, Pete Siguenza and Mike Guzman. A bunch of us. It was a hike deep down into the jungle to recover a Japanese Zero that had been shot down during the war. A fighter plane. We found it, but it was gonna be a challenge to excavate, so we left it with the intention of coming back for it later. And they did. 15 years later, my Dad went and recovered that plane. And this was the last thing my Father pulled out of the jungle before he passed away.

Semper Fi In 2007 I came back to the island for the first time in 11 years. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming, so I decided to play a prank on my old Dad. There had been a rash of break-ins in the village, so I asked my aunt to call him up and tell him someone was breaking into the house and that they had trapped him inside. He showed up with a bat and barely stopped the truck before leaping out of it. I of course waved the white flag and he laughed. “Son!” he said. “I almost killed you”. He then gave me a big hug and told me to get in the truck.

You see, I hadn’t planned on it, but it just so happened to be the 62nd anniversary of the battle of Iwo Jima. Turns out, a lot of the guys that had fought in that battle had also fought on Guam during our own liberation. My Dad was hosting a barbecue for the tour that was coming through, about 200 people, which consisted of actual vets, young soldiers and their families. This was at the first Pacific War Museum my Dad had built in Ordot and it was the first time I was seeing it.

I was proud of my Dad. He had accomplished so much with so little and here were all these people pulling together to honor these vets and to entertain these young soldiers who were about to be deployed for their first, their second and their third times. He was giving them advice and telling stories. It was inspiring. and it was a family affair. My Auntie Janet was pulling up with the red rice, my brothers were manning the traffic, my uncles and cousins and aunts were setting up tables and bringing in supplies. It had that same vibe I remember from those Thursday night dinners we’d had, so long ago at my Grandma Lole’s house, just on a much grander scale. And now it was my Dad that was the glue. And his reach had gone far beyond our family. I later learned that he and his wife Mela, along with the rest of my family had fed and entertained thousands of troops over the years and my Dad’s name had become synonymous with the Marine Corp on Guam.

Never before had I seen my Dad imbued with so much passion. And if you recall, that was never something he was short on. He had found his purpose and he was hell bent on making shit happen. We learned a lot about each other on that trip and in a lot of ways we were so much a like, just in different ways. It was a really good trip.

The words Semper Fidelis will forever be attached to the name John Gerber, it’s meaning, Always Faithful is tantamount to his dedication to his family, to this island and to his beloved Marine Corps. In 2007, on a surprise trip home I finally got it. That was also the last time I saw my Father in person.

This past April, the family came together once again, to honor my Father and to help raise money for his Pacific War Museum, now situated in Maina. They held a memorial 5K run/walk (Click here to see the film). It was an amazing tribute to what my father had worked so hard to build and what my family was now working so hard to keep going.

Family Man In the end, his most important role, was his role in the family. As a Dad, just like with everything else, he had his phases. For me, being the eldest. He was tough. My grandfather was tough on him and so he was tough on me. I mean, I don’t know many other kids whose list of chores included changing the tires on an industrial forklift. He worked me hard and at the time I wasn’t so happy about it. Of course, I never made things easier on myself, as I had yet to learn how and when to pick my battles. So, we butt heads. Over the years I’ve come to appreciate the work ethic he instilled in me. And those that were close to my father know that he worked himself harder than anybody else. More importantly, when it counted, my father always came through, especially for his family.

When I came back in 2007, he had clearly changed. I even joked about how I didn’t recognize him. He was a mellow Dad, more patient with my brothers and definitely less strict. He was actually a blast to be around. Not that he didn’t, still put them too work, on occasion. Just less so. My sister Christiana, had also known the tougher side of our father, but had witnessed the shift on a more gradual scale, as she came back home more often than I did. Liberation day also became a special time that her and my brothers Storm and Rio got to share with my Dad and partake in his work.

For his wife Mela and all of my Uncles and Aunts, my Dad’s attitude and passion was infectious. This is evident in everything they’ve done since my father’s passing. It’s actually quite astonishing to step back and see not just what he’s created, but what he’s inspired in the people who loved him.

Goodbye It was around 6pm, when I got word that I should call home. I was watching TV and waiting for my dinner to be delivered. It was meant to be a quiet night and in a strange sort of way, that’s exactly what it became. You see I was living in New York at the time, so that meant it was around 6am on Guam. I had finally gotten a hold of my Auntie Janet. She was at the naval hospital and in the next room, they were trying to revive my father.

She was inconsolable and passed the phone to my cousin EJ, who took on the unenviable task of relaying what was happening as it happened. All I could do was pace. Alone in my apartment, on the other side of the globe, I paced and I paced and I listened and I asked questions. And I tried to remember the last conversation I had with my Dad who was now unconscious in a hospital room 7,958 miles away from the room that I was in. and I could do nothing.

I heard the cries and I didn’t even have to ask … but I did anyway. And just like that, my Dad was gone. It had been about 6 months since the last time I had called home and 3 years since the last time I was on island. And that was the only thing I could think about for the rest of that night. I called my sister who hadn’t yet heard the news and then I called my brothers. I sat there and I watched the sun disappear and then I booked a ticket home.

There is a lot that can and has been said about my Father. But that’s true of most great men who are worth talking about. And in the end it’s these stories that keep him alive.

The last words that my father said to me, on the last phone call I had with him were simple. “I love you son” and my reply is how I will end this article. “I love you too dad. I’ll see you soon.”

[i-want-my-iwtv]

I've been trying to read the whole vc series, but school and work just keep preventing me from getting really far! Is it ok to ask you to write a little summary for each book so I can catch up with the fandom until I have the time to read them all thoroughly?

Yeah, I understand, time is limited :P 

I don’t know that summarizing VC will allow you to “catch up” with the fandom, you really only need to read the first 3 books and the Vampire Armand to get most of the jokes on tumblr, bc most of the jokes seem to center around:

Louis being a pyromaniac,

Lestat being an obnoxious but somehow lovable glittery murder machine,

Lestat and Louis being awesome and shitty murder dads,

Claudia being an ungrateful spoiled brat,

Armand being a little brat, or a slut, or an evul coven master, or all of the above,

Daniel Molloy just wanting to vampire plz!!!11!,

Marius being a pedo, or too bossy, or both,

Gabrielle is a bad mom and an ice queen,

Nicolas is spelled NICOLAS and he is NOT DEAD!,

Secondary characters not getting enough love from anyone!!

There are often spoilers in summaries tho, do you really want to be spoiled? I LOVE being spoiled.

We have these unreliable narrators, there is a lot of disagreement as to what canon really is, and some fans choose to ignore parts of (or entire books) in the series. We bring our own experiences to the reading, and we choose what to connect with, so I think we can agree on some things about each book, but you will probably get a different summary from any given reader. Even AR has told us to disregard the hybrid Mayfair/VC books (Blood Canticle, possibly Merrick and Blackwood Farm) when moving onto the more recent VC additions (PL and PLROA). So, for example, I have a friend who has only read the first 3 books. She doesn’t even know what happens after that bc she prefers to think it ended after QOTD. So any new vampires made after QOTD do not exist to her. #Your headcanon may vary.

Anyway, you want summaries.

http://vampirechronicles.wikia.com has a pretty good write-up for each of the books (they don’t have PL and PLROA currently, maybe they will eventually). It contains spoilers.

@vraik​ has thorough VC analysis in their series called The Consulting Analyst over on vraikaiser.com. Spoilers there, too.

@hyperbeeb‘s capsule reviews are pretty gr9 [X]:

Lestat’s Adventures with a Progressive Family

Lestat’s Bisexual Adventures in 18th Century France

Lestat’s Adventures with the Queen of the Vampires

Lestat’s Adventures as a Human

Lestat’s Adventures with Satan

Lestat’s Adventures in a Coma

Lestat’s Adventures with Polyamory 

Lestat’s Adventures in the Deep South

Lestat’s Adventures with Not Being There At All

Lestat’s Adventures with Witches and Other Weird Shit

Lestat’s adventures with Being the Vampire Head of State

Lestat’s Adventures with Literal Fucking Aliens

(Note, Pandora and Vittorio are technically stand-alone “New Tales of the Vampires” books, but Pandora would be No. 6 of the 13 book series).

You can check my #VC Synopsis tag, which has more capsule humorous summaries.

Gonna try to do a little summary for each VC under the cut as a personal challenge. 

Spoilers ahead! I’ll try to do this with as few spoilers as possible, as factually as possible.

1. Interview with the Vampire - Louis tells the story of his life and unlife to Daniel Molloy. Louis starts at the point in his mortal life just before he meets Lestat, and how his life up until that meeting influenced the unlife that followed after he became a vampire. Lestat’s reasons for choosing Louis are unclear to Louis, but he wants Louis to choose to be a vampire. Louis is under so much duress (failing health, still in emotional distress over his guilt re: a close family member’s death) that the choice is not 100% legit, Lestat can’t wait for a more opportune time and proceeds to turn Louis anyway. 

The whole story could be seen as Anne Rice’s exploration of the role of religion and the reasons why terrible things happen to innocent people, the concept of punishment. 

For me, it was also eye-opening bc I was 11 when I read it and it introduced the possibility of love between a same-sex couple, even if that was in more of a read-between-the-lines way. 

It also has a child vampire and I hadn’t seen any media even attempt to tell a story with a child vampire before. Few media that attempt it seem to have captured the beauty and tragedy of such a creature as in this story, and she reappears in a few of the other VC. Unreliable Narrator thing that continues throughout the series.

^ok that was too long, I’m going for shorter.

2. The Vampire Lestat - Lestat seeks to “correct the record” that Louis laid out in IWTV by giving us his own backstory, starting at his mortal youth and how that influenced the unlife that followed when he became a vampire, against his will (hence the “I’m going to give you the choice I never had,” line from movie!IWTV). There is more exploration in the role of religion and reasons why bad things happen to basically innocent people, and whether you really can make the best of a shitty situation or just give up. More about punishment. A very unique take on the origin of the vampires as a species is revealed. And the reasons why Lestat behaved the way he did (basically all secretive) in IWTV. Unreliable Narrator thing that continues throughout the series, who are we to believe? Lestat or Louis? And the author’s retconning which is perceived as “making excuses later in canon for behavior that’s already happened.” Some readers really despise this. Personally, I like having the options and trusting one version of events, or none of them.

3. The Queen of the Damned - Lestat’s modern-era rock career wakes the Queen of the Vampires and she has this awesome Radical Feminist idea for world peace. She’s already gotten started on it! She upgrades Lestat physically so that he can help her accomplish her goals, but he’s not really on board. They meet with the vampires she has allowed to survive her purge and it doesn’t go very well. Also in this book, we have different narrators, more about the vampire origin story, and the Armand/Daniel ship is sailing at its best here.

4. The Tale of the Body Thief - Having suffered so much through the past 3 books, Lestat is a suicidal hamburger-brained moron and makes some very bad choices. Despite everyone advising him NOT to, Lestat makes a terrible trade with a body thief and learns quickly that he had idealized being human. He does some horrendous stuff, and wants off the Being Human ride. He has one friend who helps him set things back to the way they should be, and then he betrays that friend in a spectacularly cruel way. More importantly, Lestat also gets a wonderful cuddly doggo. 

5. Memnoch the Devil - Lestat Goes to Heaven and Hell, meets Jesus Christ, meets God, meets Satan (who prefers to go by “Memnoch”) it’s all a huge interview process to decide if Lestat might work for God or Satan and it’s basically fanfic of the Bible. Some people hated it for those reasons. I found it really intriguing, bc it presents a reason why God created the earth, and why there’s suffering, why God allows suffering to go on, and where religion comes from. Like Lestat, Memnoch says he’s not the antagonist, but really the good guy in all this. When Dorothy gets back to Kansas Lestat returns to earth, there is disagreement about whether he went on a real trip or he was just fooled by a really talented spirit. Lestat is so confused that he throws a huge tantrum and then gets solitary confinement, then slips into a coma.

6. The Vampire Armand - Armand gets his spotlight and gets to really tell his story, do we believe everything he tells us? Lots of good Italy times stuff. Armand visits Lestat in his coma-state, and talks about that, too. 

7. Merrick - Merrick is a Mayfair witch in NOLA who bewitches Louis in pursuit of his request for closure with Claudia, and hilarity ensues. Louis gets the most screentime he’s had since IWTV, but the whole book is told from a 3rd wheel’s POV, it would have been so much better from Louis’ or Merrick’s POV. Major fatal thing happens but fortunately Lestat wakes up from his coma in time to save the day.

8. Blood and Gold - Marius tells his story, as does the vampire Thorne tell his own story. Marius talks about his artistic influences and his experience with the early Talamasca and Santino and the Children of Satan. We see Daniel (now living with Marius) under a kind of spell, which Marius says is temporary. 

9. Blackwood Farm - Lestat goes to the Deep South and hears the story of vampire Quinn (his story defies summary) and, with Merrick’s help, saves the day.

10. Blood Canticle - More vampire and Mayfair mixing. And Taltos. It’s a very big WTF book. But it has some very funny scenes and lines in it. It ends with Lestat promising the Dark Gift to someone. 

11. Prince Lestat - Vampire scientists. A clone. Someone gets kidnapped. Ultimate Vampire Coven Gathering. Lestat is cranky, saves the day anyway. Ghosts apparently can linger on earth after death and make bodies for themselves. Characters from past books reappear. New characters are introduced. Louis writes a chapter about how OK fine, he does love Lestat. FINE.

12. Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis - I haven’t finished this but basically… the REAL vampire origin story, and it involves bird-like aliens, who were sent to earth bc the aliens feed on the suffering of mortals. The bird-like aliens didnt want to create Atlantis. in fact they were pissed because this one creature of theirs, Amel, made Atlantis with the Luracastria (i dunno i think thats how it’s spelled) and their viewing tech couldn’t see through the material. Amel made Atlantis to spite the bird-like aliens omg i cant believe im typing this. Louis and Lestat finally have some legit canon cuddletimes.

- Pandora - the story of the vampire Pandora, and why Marius is bad at relationships. Lots of good Roman times stuff.

- Vittorio - is not a VC vampire, and wants nothing to do with that dysfunctional pile of fanged crazies. @monstersinthecosmos and @vittoriathevampire could give you a better summary of that one, since I didn’t absorb it too well :P

[cheeseburgernebula]

Real is a feeling

We used to have a seventy plant grow in the basement 35 clones-35 various phenos Mostly flo. closed loop intane system And two conventional scientific ovens my migos ordered through a friends business account-generally don't keep it strictly your own-hard to obtain lab equipment...even for martyrs & artists who'd be a doctor if jt wasn't for all these student loans. Especially medical grade ethanol-luckily butane wasn't scare for us at all we hit the first of the vaporwave years before this all went legal...just a few processors around the country (world) Randy was the plug-always on deck with a 127 pounder of that taaaaannnneeee American daydreams-it's not really alarming as it seems I wanna stress the amount of firearms...I Mean protection is needed. Homie never registered-kept quiet I kept the AR packed perfectly under the floor...the whole house smelt like mushrooms My old room was the grow-we have 300 Hits of ACID acquired from one of the purest in the world (shout out that Swiss heritage tho) We both had fronts so ain't shit for an 18 hour flow. We had coca plants in the bathroom to keep them in a more tropical climate A couple leaves and some sodium bicarbonate A nice early morning routine... Unless you needed a pharmacy...my room was more "what you need" Pints.Xans.Ambeins. Oxys. Subxone. Shit viagra if the moneys mean. We had an art gallery of glass-mostly my spoons and bubblers and his rigs We had an art gallery of treasures-scriptures,cassette tapes,paintings,comics Some locals destined to be legends and some legends deserving of chokeholds Our neighbors cooked meth which meant extra security steps Padlocks,bolts and cameras with a few key areas monitored Early morning commutes to put money on the homies books Turning around and trying to do my day job selling children's books. Not to mention-my own writing-my own art-I mean sure it may come off as a front but it's a passion that's always been stewing. A conflict of interest-a duel personality a brew . I don't say all this to gloat-in fact it's been a couple of years since I've mailed a pack (since these stories in fact) And that makes me feel good. Homies built up some bunker in the woods He's doing great-bighomie out of the pen too so i know he's making moves. I'm just tired of dealing with these people who pretend what they wouldn't be able to stomach. Rappers talking trash like they've even seen county-or fought court cases for months only to win with an appointed attorney. I'm tired of draconian laws. Systemic debt. I'm tired of people doing it legit and still be ensnared by the Feds This poem is for Dezy Saint who got popped by an undercover for trying to heal with taboo products and not make a dollar (mostly because she's the most prolific organizer in Denvers rebellious front) This is a poem for CoCo Davies and all her tireless efforts of getting the word out and the continuance of the flow. This is for RHINO-evicted but directed in fury. For Madeline Johnston who has my home in her heart and has for centuries. This for the youngins who I still fuck with on the low...because you never know how things are Gonna go...one of the most groundbreaking producers about to be homeless-I'm one away from that too....but we #positivesquad mobbing low Because being a true "Christian" is shining your light in a darkness sometime unshown...just sort of waiting on y'all to show up-even though my breath isn't holding. I feel like a Globelamp, just fighting against all odds only to crush beef to move forward. This poem is for the underground community as a whole-from Denver to Oakland. Baltimore. Austin. Seattle. Portland. NOLA. ATL. CALI. Florida. PHILLY-NY PGH. KC-God damn-MO This is more then what you're capable when you need to stack bread-to get your money tight-straight up skeleton. I have none of those-shit I don't even have a home. Just friends who care and support. Like we all should find and hold. I only preference the seemingly gloat because change is a foot. Sometimes you loose things because their bad for you-sometimes you've lost it via a sold soul. We need to organize. Educate. Decolonize and create supportive communities. We need to include our disabled communities in ways they can speak comfortably,travel comfortably...fuck have access to the medication and treatment they deserve. We need to see mental illness can sometimes look like a full body cast...because I don't know where we're going Keep your eyes wide,keep your vibes,lay low,or say what needs to be said. If not,talk to someone you know cares and whom you can trust. Until then comrades...remember what Gore Vidal said: "Always beware of the fact, that the only thing hindering an all out revolution is your fear of losing the scraps they throw at you.--Twitter post, July 29, 2012"

[reesesxpieces]

Task #1

THE BASICS:

What is your character’s full name?: 

Theresa Renee Raven

The name “Theresa” is a feminine named used by the English, German, Swedish, Norwegian, and Danish.History: From the Spanish and Portuguese name Teresa. It was first recorded as Therasia, being borne by the Spanish wife of Saint Paulinus of Nola in the 4th century. The meaning is uncertain, but it could be derived from Greek θερος (theros) “summer”, from Greek θεριζω (therizo) “to harvest”, or from the name of the Greek island of Therasia (the western island of Santorini).The name was mainly confined to Spain and Portugal during the Middle Ages. After the 16th century it was spread to other parts of the Christian world, due to the fame of the Spanish nun and reformer Saint Teresa of Ávila. Another famous bearer was the Austrian Habsburg queen Maria Theresa (1717-1780), who inherited the domains of her father, the Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI, beginning the War of the Austrian Succession. {source: http://www.behindthename.com/name/theresa } 

Does your characters have any nicknames?: 

Reese

Theresa is often called “Reese” which she does not mind, and actually prefers. 

What is the title or label you can describe your character with?: 

A mixture of:

The Caregiver

The Creator

The Jester

{Source: http://www.soulcraft.co/essays/the_12_common_archetypes.html }

Age:

30

Birth date:

August 9, 1986

Nationality: 

Theresa is not a London Native.

She was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA.

Origin: 

Theresa’s father was born in Houston, Texas, USA. His nationality is German.

Theresa’s mother was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, USA. She’s a mix of:  English, Irish, Italian, and a hint of Cherokee Indian. 

Gender: 

Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexual Orientation:

Heterosexual

Relationship Status:

In a relationship with Charles “Chip” Holmes as of May 2017.

Religion: 

Christian (Non denominational) Her father was Methodist, and her mother Catholic, but neither of them forced religion in the household. Growing up, Reese was encouraged to go to church and find God. She went to a non-denominational church, and considers herself to be a Christian, though she doesn’t believe that you have to be a church-goer to be close to God.

Occupation:  

Owner/Operator of Behind the Mask Community Theatre

This was nor her first choice. 

She knew she had always wanted a career in performing arts, but needed something to fall back on, so she double majored and completed degrees in both Theater Arts and Business.

In the states, she was an Administrative Professional, and would often get told that she was downsizing her talents and should look into bigger and better things than sitting behind a desk day in and day out at a job she wasn’t too thrilled about. After a lot of soul searching and a family trip to London, she fell upon a run down building that was up for sale, and instantly had a vision for what she wanted to turn it into. Throwing every ounce of faith she had into it, she created the theatre, dedicated it to her father whom encouraged her to perform in order to find her own voice, and hopes that it can be a safe haven for the community to express themselves through the performing arts.

PHYSICAL TRAITS:

Eye color:

Blue

Hair color:

Reese is a natural brunette, but from time to time, she’ll go to the salon and get highlights in her hair, or have it professionally lightened.

Height:

5 ft 2 in or 157 cm 

Body build: 

Slender

Notable physical traits:

Less than average women’s height

Left-handed

Skin color:

Depends on the time of year. 

Summer/Spring: Tanned

Fall/Winter: Pale

Facial Hair:

Blood type:

O

Clothing size: 

Small

Shoe size: 

Seven

HEALTH AND IMAGE:

Diet: 

Theresa will just about eat anything you put in front of her, and it’s very rare that she turns down an offer for food.

Fitness: 

Theresa tries to work out as much as she can. 

Currently she is on a plan where she does strength training Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and cardio on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

She loves lifting weights and using weight machines, but despises traditional cardio and will often use the term “cardio is hardio.”

Handicaps: 

No known handicaps

Allergies:

Seasonal

Pollen

Dust

Illnesses: 

No known illnesses

Disorders: 

No known disorders/addictions

Broken bones: 

Broke her wrist in three places when she was nine years old as a result of falling off of her bike when her brakes gave out. 

Broke her pinky finger on her right hand after falling off a raft while water tubing.

Piercings:

Ears

Tattoos:

None. But she has thought about getting some.

Scars:

No major scars. She is accident prone though so she may get small scars from time to time, that will heal quickly and disappear.

Favorite Perfume / Cologne: 

She doesn’t have a favorite perfume or cologne, but she does wash her hair with strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner, and along with applying deodorant, she also sprays her body with vanilla body spray after her showers 

CHARACTER:

Skills: 

Theresa is somewhat a jack of all trades as far as skills goes. She loves to learn new things and still strives to learn something new to this day. Throughout life she has learned the following:

Singing

Dancing

Piano

Drums

Acting/Drama/Musical Theater

Web Design/Coding

Body flexibility

Just to name a few!

Quirks: 

Affectionate

Tries to find the silver lining in every situation.

Tries to save the world and give advice for all of her friend’s problems.

Speaks in lyrics

Uses sarcastic humor any chance she can get - especially in awkward situations

Bounces her leg when she’s nervous and sitting.

Rambles and doesn’t have much of a filter when she speaks

Not afraid to use foul language.

Yelling at inanimate objects

Hates when people whistle in an otherwise quiet room

Turns on closed captioning/subtitles when watching television/movies

Typing aggressively when she’s pissed off, even though the offender can’t see it. 

Not knowing what to do while people sing “Happy Birthday” to her.

Not being able to sleep without the tv or radio on. 

Hobbies:

Researching

Learning

Writing

Singing

Dancing

Listening to music

Watching TV/Movies

Painting

Web Design

Photography

Scrapbooking

Eating

Shopping

Traveling

Being sarcastic

Habits:

Overthinking/Over-analyzing

Speaking in lyrics

Sarcasm

Swearing

Always wanting to be there for those she loves most whether they are family, friends, or friends who have turned family

Daydreams

Guilty pleasures: 

Country Music

Sleeping in the nude

Taking long showers/soaks in the bath

Reality TV

Sleeping In

Dancing/Singing like no one is watching

McDonald’s McNuggets and McRibs

KFC Gravy

Pet peeves: 

Unnecessary rudeness

People with an inflated sense of their own importance.

When someone comes into a room, but forgets to shut the door

When someone comes into a room, turns on a light, then leaves without turning it off

Whistling

Loud chewing

Late people (unless they have a valid reason)

When others don’t cover their nose/mouth when they sneeze/cough

When people walk too slowly or just suddenly stop in front of her

When people drive too slowly

When people don’t use their turn signals when driving

When people don’t say “thank you”

Being interrupted or talked over when speaking

When someone goes to tell her something then says “Never mind”

When Taco Bell drive-thru asks if she wants any sauce, she confirms that she does, but winds up getting no sauce.

MISCELLANEOUS (SHOULD BE WRITTEN IN CHARACTER):

Favorite genre of music:

This is such a tough question to answer, because I will literally listen to anything. I have favorite country songs, rap songs, even horror-core songs. But if I had to pick a specific genre, it’d probably be a toss up between Rock or what is known as “emo”. OH! and show tunes! Can’t forget about those!

Favorite dish:

Again this is a tough one, because I love food so much. But if I had to choose one thing to eat for the rest of my life, I’d probably go with pizza since I can change up the different types of pizza and have a variety.

Favorite animal:

Seahorses and Sea turtles

A superpower your character wants to have:

Shape-shifting

If they made a movie about your character’s life, what would the title be?:

“How is a Raven like a Writing Desk?” 

Food or sex:

Why not both?

Their life’s theme song:

Childhood: Frankie J - “Daddy’s Little Girl”

Overall: Faith Hill - “Wild One” 

Favorite day of the week and why?:

Saturday, because it’s the motha-fuckin’ weekend, gonna have me some fun!

What came first, the chicken or the egg?:

The chicken…because of Noah’s arc, who laid more eggs, to give us more chickens? 

Do you prefer hot or cold weather and why?:

Hot. I hate when the air hurts my face.  

Describe your first crush:

He was a shy, dorky theater geek, like me who had a voice that everyone envied. He was taller than me (who isn’t), and had dark hair, blue eyes, and thick Drew Carey like glasses. He would often be cast as the star in all of our high-school productions. Although he had many talents, he was the nicest guy you could ever encounter. It helped that I had a crush on him when we were in productions together, because the chemistry didn’t need to be faked out, but nothing became of that crush because my dad told me that I couldn’t date until “after I was married.” His name was William.

Your house is on fire. What are the first three things you grab?:

Phone, purse, and military flag from my father’s death