show me the only way you know how to love

currently, i have one so far. it’s ongoing. the first 12 chapters are up.

i don’t want secrets (i want you)

Louis and Lestat grew up together. They were best friends. Until Louis left. Years later, he returns to New Orleans—to a past that still haunts him. To a friendship that no longer was.

Despite everything, they were best friends. Until they weren't.

— simply put: a childhood best friends to lovers loustat AU. it’s a slowburn & i (try to) update weekly !

Louis throws up on the grass near the cemetery when he leaves. But he supposes that’s what he gets for drinking on an empty stomach. And for dealing with the very memory of his brother.

continue reading

hello there!!

yes, i am, thank you!

“I am not done talking to you,” Lestat says, almost exasperated, but his voice is much softer now, which makes Louis look up.

A silence consumes the air that, strangely enough, forces the thoughts in his mind to come to a halt. All Louis grows aware of is the feeling of Lestat’s grip on him, the way each finger digs into his arm until it’s the only thing he can think about. He doesn’t understand it — doesn’t know if he even wants to.

And yet, he’s forced to look into Lestat’s eyes. He sees the worry hidden under all the anger. But then Louis blinks, and he wonders if he imagined it. After all, there was no trusting Lestat anymore.

That’s why the last thing Louis wanted to do was talk to Lestat, but — if he were honest, he didn’t want Lestat to let go of him, either.

Time passes languidly — every second drawn out until Louis hears the front door shut. He spends most of it in despair — trying. Trying his very best to stop the crying, to catch his breath, to calm down. But the longer he was aware of his mother and Lestat being together downstairs, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

continue reading

Louis can feel the presence of someone else in his bed before he opens his eyes.

It’s easy to make out, to feel the extra weight in the bed, after sleeping alone for so long.

The mere idea of having someone next to him makes his heart race. Because he knows it’s not Armand, it can’t be — this wasn’t New York. There was no body curled into his.

continue reading here