Well you’ve left me a convenient little loophole in your misspelling! Who is this “Luis?” I don’t know him, hopefully he’s an evildoer… bc I have to throw one of them under the bus.

Kill: Luis! Bc you misspelled his name I can pretend it’s someone else entirely bwahahahaa…. (If this were our actual beloved Louis, perfect-cinnamon-roll-too-good-for-this-world, I don’t think I could kill him, I doubt Lestat would want to fuck OR marry me after doing that. If you really insist it’s OUR LOUIS, I’ll have to revise all my answers.)

Fuck: Lestat, bc of reasons, no, really, bc he must be super talented in the bedroom (or the kitchen, or the alleyway, or the floor, wherever there’s a good solid surface really). I probably couldn’t keep up the kind of energy requirement he would need tho. He’s studied the Kama Sutra. He’d probably end up killing me… exhaustion-related death… Death by ecstasy? The French call the orgasm ‘La petite mort”; “the Little Death.” I imagine this would be like the Big Death *swoons*

Marry: Gabrielle. Honestly she seems like a good roommate (when she is around), we’d probably share similar taste in literature and such, she’s taller than me but we might be able to share some wardrobe staples. I like that it could sometimes be a long-distance marriage, she can go off exploring and I’ll hold down the fort. I’m sure the marriage would be an open one, platonic between us since I am a straight gal, and considering I’d fucked her son. She doesn’t want his leftovers 😛 even as excellent as this leftover would be if this leftover survived it ;D