#if you’re going to claim to be a larrie

[salfishersface]

How You Met

Synopsis - How you meet Sal, Larry & Travis.

Warnings - SFW.

Notes - All characters are 18+!

Word Count - 1.2k.

{Caffeinate Me}

SAL FISHER was new to Nockfell High, and to say he was nervous was definitely an understatement. He had met Larry Johnson at his apartment prior to his first day at the new school, so at least he had some form of moral support. Sal and Larry walked up to the gates of Nockfell High, waiting for the sea of students walking through the entrance to calm down before making their own way inside. “You need to claim a locker dude,” Larry said to Sal as they walked through the halls. “There’s an empty locker next to mine. 

“That’s convenient,” Sal said with a smile. 

Meanwhile, you walked through the halls, making your way to Larry’s locker. You knew your best friend well, and knew that he would be lazing around his locker in an attempt to avoid going to class. When you came into view of Larry’s locker, you noticed him standing next to another boy with blue hair, fumbling with the neighbouring locker. You skipped up to your best friend. “Hey,” you said, startling them both. 

“Y/N!” Larry jumped, turning around to face you. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

“I’m not that scary am I?” You joked, trying to stifle a laugh. 

Larry looked towards Sal and pulled a face before introducing the two of you. “Sall Face, this is my best friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my new friend, Sally Face.” 

“Sally Face?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “Is it because of the prosthetic?” 

“Yes!” Sal said, almost a bit too excitedly. He had never had someone call it a prosthetic before, usually people always mistook his prosthetic for a regular mask. Sal couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat as his eyes met yours, they were the most beautiful colour that really brought out your complexion. A smile tugged the corner of his lips underneath the prosthetic. 

“Can I just call you Sal?” You asked. 

Sal nodded, thanking whatever Gods were out there that his prosthetic hid his reddening cheeks. “Y-Yeah,” he stuttered. 

“Look at you two, getting along!” Larry grinned, pulling both of you into his arms. “Best friends, am I right or am I right?” 

“Right,” you smiled, nodding at Sal. “I better get to class. Don’t let him be late for class Sal, he likes to skip sometimes.” 

Sal nodded at you, watching as you waved at the two boys before walking away. “She’s great,” Larry said to Sal. “I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.” 

“I hope so,” Sal mumbled to himself before stuffing his books into his locker and making his way to his first class. 

LARRY JOHNSON had been making his way to the lobby of Addison Apartments to see if there was any mail for him or his mother. You were new to the building and was also looking to see if you and your family had mail. Larry eyed you up as you took the letters from the mailbox and flicked through them. “Hi,” he said to gain your attention. “I’m Larry.” 

“Hello,” you said, looking away from the post and to the man in front of you. “I’m Y/N.”

Larry stuck his hand out for you to shake, and you did so with a firm grip. He smiled as you shook his hand. “You’re new to the building right?” He asked, waiting for your response. 

“Yeah. Just moved in a few days ago with my parents,” you replied, returning your hand to your side. 

“How are you finding it?” Larry asked, leaning against the wall, seemingly as cool as a cucumber. 

“It’s nice,” you nod. “The apartment could be tidier, but other than that everything seems good.”

Larry chuckled. “Well you’ve just moved in. It’s bound to be a little bit messy.” 

“Tell me about it, I can’t wait for it to start feeling like home though,” you say with a shy smile. 

“It’ll feel like home before you know it,” Larry reassured you. He paused for a moment, thinking of what to say next as he looked you up and down. “Say, do you and your family wanna come round for dinner sometime?” He asked. Your eyes widened at his sudden question but you found yourself nodding, that shy smile still plastered on your lips. “Great!” Larry clapped his hands together. “I’m sure my mother would love to get to know your family.” 

“I’m sure my family would love to get to know your mother also,” you said. “Moving hasn’t been easy on them.”

“Bet,” Larry replied with a nod. Within a second, he pulled his phone out of his jean pocket and shoved it towards you. “Add your number and we’ll get to know each other more.”

Shakily, you took his phone from him and put your number into his contacts. “Here you go,” you smiled, handing him back his phone. 

“Thanks!” He grinned, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll get in touch with you soon. Until next time, newbie,” Larry said before turning to walk towards the elevator. His heart was beating like crazy and when he got into the elevator and the doors closed, his knees buckled underneath him from the nerves. He would definitely be texting you later.

TRAVIS PHELPS went to church every week with his father. Today was no different. He went to mass as usual. But then he saw you. You weren’t paying attention to the service and Travis took notice of that before turning his own attention back to his father. After mass, whilst his father socialised with the other church-goers, Travis actively sought you out. When he found you, you were standing in the corner waiting for your family whilst actively chewing on the skin around your nails. He walked over to you quickly, stopping mere centimetres away from you. “You weren’t listening to service,” he said, rather directly. 

“No, no I wasn’t,” you said with a shrug. “Who wants to know?” 

Travis sucked in a breath. “Travis Phelps wants to know,” his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. 

“Minister Phelps’ son?” You asked, wide eyes. 

Travis nodded proudly, puffing his chest up. “Yes.” 

“Well, Minister Phelps’ son,” you said, taking a step towards him. “I don’t give a shit.”

Travis took a step back from you, a mixture of pure disgust and bewilderment on his face. “How dare you!” He said loudly. “I could get you kicked out of this church right now for such disgusting language.”

“Do it then, I don’t care,” you replied, sticking your tongue out teasingly. 

Travis was shell shocked by your uncaring nature towards the church. “On second thoughts,” he said, stroking his chin. “I don’t think I’ll say anything. It seems like coming to church is enough of a punishment for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“What’s your name?” He asked suddenly. 

“Y/N,” you said swiftly. 

“Well Y/N,” Travis started. “Enjoy tomorrow’s sermon. I’m sure you’ll truly appreciate it.” He said before walking off proudly to his father. Whatever he meant by that, you were sure you wouldn’t appreciate tomorrow’s sermon, and if anything you were dreading church even more now.

[leighcest]

chainshipping week day 3: song<3

---

song: in a week - hozier (inspired by this fanart by the lovely @turnipoddity). prompt week by @mychem1calbr0mance<3

---

Blood soaked and seeped into Adam’s… well, everything. The doctor was softly sobbing against him. His family was gone, and now he would die in Adam’s arms. 

The two had an unspoken chemestrial bond, a trauma bond, a pact of comfort, and something more. They both knew what it was, but the words bubbling were shoved down. Adam brought a shaky hand up to rake through his hair. The phone stopped going off a few minutes ago. Lawrence couldn’t crawl over.nHe was too weak, and he knew it.

“Shh. I’ve got you. I got you, Lawrence. Just… take a deep breath. You’re not gonna be alone. I’m here.”

In his shock, Lawrence had mumbled about how scared he was of dying alone. He gripped onto Adam’s blood-soaked shirt. He wiped his tears and dragged them along the back of his ears and his neck to replicate sweat.

Adam tried not to think about what he would do after Lawrence died. It had only been an hour. If he squinted hard enough, he could see the clock. He knew it was coming. His pulse was slow, and his breathing sounded different. It scared him.

“Yo-you’re doing so good, Lar,” Adam whispered, trying not to get teary-eyed. 

“Ali? Is- is it you?” The blond croaked out. As hard as he tried, a tear fell onto Lawrence’s hair as Adam nodded. He couldn’t do this. Why did it have to be him? “U-uh, yeah. It’s me, sweetheart.” Adam choked out. “I’m here. Right here. Just me and you.” 

The younger removed his hand from Lawrence’s hair and placed it on his cheek. He bent down, pressing his chapped lips against the doctor’s forehead. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before pressing more ginger kisses onto his face. “Adam?” Lawrence croaked, the last of his strength. He hummed in response, biting back the embarrassment of not knowing when Larry suddenly realized it was him. “What’s gonna happen next?” He whispered.

His head leaned against the wall. Bile fought its way through Adam’s throat. “I don’t know, Lar.” Adam laughed softly. “We’ll stay here for hours. Maybe for years. And they’ll find us in a week. When it gets hot, and the insects have made their claim.” 

Our bodies intertwined. So still. So discreet. Adam thought.

Lawrence seemed content with this answer. “I’m going to let go now.” He said calmly. Adam pulled his limp body into his chest. “Okay.” He nodded, tears spilling. “It was- it was a pleasure, Larry.”

The eldest’s hunger appeased, his drive gone, his need to live gone, his heartbeat slow. “Two corpses we’ll be, two corpses I saw,” Lawrence whispered, his breathtaking one more inhale before blowing out and stopping. 

A shallow sob ripped through Adam’s throat.

The hours blurred into days of kissing Lawrence’s corpse, huddling him to warm him once again. The smell of rotting flesh was unbearable, even more than the pain in his shoulder and the unsatisfiable hunger in his gut. He looked down at Lawrence, guilt pooling into his body. Then over at Zepp. Then at his own arm.

Starvation it is. He thought. The color was gone from Lawrence. The sight of Zepp kept causing him panic attacks. The last time Lawrence moved was to grab Adam’s shirt and cover the corpse. 

Oddly enough, around the fourth day. A feeling of peace overtook him. He knew that meant he would die soon. Adam was ready. Oddly enough, curled into the dead body of a man he had known for eight hours and dying from a bullet wound (among various other things) had led Adam to a feeling of home. Comfort. He closed his eyes, only opening them one more time to get a good look at Lawrence. Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall. As Adam closed his eyes, he knew it would be the last time he would see the world around him. 

His arms pulled Lawrence closer. I’ll be home with you.

[psiroller]

gaymers preview

i blacked out and what is this

au where everyone is playing an mmo that simulates dungeon meshi world but theyre all regular dudes named like larry and charles and stuff. the worst thing they do in this excerpt is cuss. im going to go finish chapter 4 but a friend needed a juicy carrot dangled in their face to finish their job applications. i am the picture of benevolence

cw: excessive gamer references and lingo

“Sorry, guys,” Laios mumbled into his crisp, high-fidelity mic. “I drew aggro early again.”

Chilchuck’s sigh came out in a raspy crackle. “We’re four rooms behind you, moron, what am I supposed to do about that?”

“I’m kiting the dragon back to you,” said Laios, hammering at his mechanical keyboard to try to get his speed buff cast while navigating the winding dungeon instance.

“You’re what!?” Chilchuck’s busted old Logitech headset clipped due to the volume. Laios’ hand slipped and he parried needlessly, locking him in place for a fraction of a second, the overlapping footfalls of the red dragon growing louder behind him. His ears were sweating under the cuffs.

“Laios, take the path on your right and keep running,” Marcille instructed, exasperated. “This is why you stay with the party, okay?”

“But we were talking for so long, I got bored,” Laios whined.

“Then why are you on the RP server, dumbass!?” Chilchuck hissed. Laios misfired a spell, alerting the party to his presence. The spatial audio on his headphones alerted him to his party moving up the tunnel perpendicular to the path he’d been assigned, chasing after the dragon.

“Because this is the one Marcille is on, Falin,” Laios jeered. Falin sent a winking smiley in party chat.

“Don’t deflect, Laios. You’re in deep shit if you die,” Chilchuck growled. Laios’ brainwaves flatlined as the dragon caught up to him, dousing him in crustily-textured flames that obscured his character. He kept aimlessly running, finding himself sliding along a wall once the flames cleared. The dragon wound up for its deadly right-armed strike and chunked a hefty amount of his health bar. Just as he regained his bearings, the dragon galloped and slid into a tail swipe that he managed to parry—it bought him just enough time for Falin to heal him, a glittery golden glow enveloping the screen. Laios slumped into the headrest of his gaming chair and breathed.

“Oh my God, thank you thank you thank you thank you—”

Another smiley, this one without the teasing wink. One day they’d talk her into turning her mic on, but she always worried about breathing too loudly. The dragon spun in the opposite direction for its follow-up attack, staggering Laios despite another successful parry. Chilchuck’s scrawny rouge dashed in after everyone else, buffed to the nines and firing poison arrows from the mouth of the arena. Marcille hammered the dragon with a barrage of fireballs, so overleveled for this dungeon that the dragon’s fire resistance was negated by the sheer amount of damage. A bunch of pre-cooked meals appeared in his inventory, dropped onto him by Senshi. The dragon turned its ire upon the dwarf, being within melee range, and hit him with a jet of flame—his health dropped by fractions of fractions. He ate another tail swipe without moving, his stout character waving at Laios and dancing a delightful high-kicking jig. The dragon tried in vein to get him below 75% of his max health before it all healed back in a few seconds. He continued tanking all the attacks, ramming the dragon with his shield every time the cooldown reset, and Laios hopped back into the fray. They alternated taking heavy swings, keeping the dragon stunlocked and helpless as Marcille charged her nuke spell, the one that made Chilchuck’s shitty Gateway lag for minutes on end.

Ka-choom. The dragon had collapsed before the animation was completed, the particle effects whipping away to reveal the corpse, glittering to indicate there was loot to be claimed. Laios cheered along with the bombastic fanfare; he heard Falin whoop from her room next door.

“Well done, newbies,” Senshi laughed. His beard brushed against his microphone, a strangely comforting sound. “You had me worried for a second!”

“Why? It’s just a game,” Laios said, clueless. “I’d just respawn, wouldn’t I?”

“Well, for one thing, I don’t think our characters like dying very much,” Chilchuck said flatly. He’d dropped character, knowing that the night was drawing to a close.

“That, and it’s a huge hassle to run all the way from the start of the instance to come get your corpse,” Marcille huffed. “We’d have to wait for you to come back so you wouldn’t miss experience or loot… and Senshi has to log off in thirty minutes.”

“Gotta prep for the breakfast rush,” he said with grim resignation.

Laios briefly tabbed out to check his system clock. “At two in the morning?”

“Three here, son. I got to get the croissants rolled before five so they’re in the oven by five thirty, or the kids who come here to mooch off my wifi will buy something more than the cheapest coffee I have.”

“Oh.” Laios scratched his cheek. “Well, uh, have a good day at work?”

Senshi laughed, raspy and warm. “Someone’s never worked food service. Take care, everyone.” He accepted his share of the loot, giving away anything that couldn’t be crafted into a meal, and blinked out of the instance. When they emerged from the dungeon, he was long gone.

“I think I’m calling it here, too,” said Marcille. “Great work, you two. Until our next adventure!”

Her character bowed, and she too faded away.

I think this is a good stopping point, Falin typed. Laios smirked. “Oh yeah, I bet.”

>:( Don’t stay up too late, big brother! You have an exam in the morning.

Laios rolled his eyes, but he typed the emote shortcut to wave her off. Falin logged out. All that remained of his guild at this ungodly hour was Chilchuck, his character sat on the ground, likely checking the stats on the loot he’d acquired. He didn’t back out of the call; Laios could hear a long, whistling inhale, a holding of breath, and a satisfied exhale. He’d already lit up his post-raid cigarette.

“Well, uh, sorry for that,” Laios laughed. His chair squeaked as he shifted around in it. “I’m used to games where you can just run in and start pummeling the bad guys.”

Another long inhale. “What kind of games do you play? Call of Duty?”

“Ew, no,” Laios said, nose wrinkled. “I like Monster Hunter.”

Chilchuck snorted.

“What? Not good enough for you?”

“Can’t say it’s my kind of game, no,” Chilchuck said. There was a hint of a smile in his voice. “I know a girl that plays it. She loves it. But I guess I like more of a storyline in mine.”

“Ooh. Do you play JRPGs? Final Fantasy?”

Chilchuck barked out a laugh. “Final Fantasy was never my style either. I guess I prefer those old ones based on Dungeons and Dragons. That’s why I gravitated to this game.”

Laios sat his character down next to Chilchuck, loathe to log off but too tired to tackle his solo quests.

“Stuff like Divinity and Baldur’s Gate, then?”

“Yeah, Baldur’s Gate, that’s the one.” Chilchuck sounded a little brighter on the line. “So you’ve got some taste, eh?”

“Never played it.”

“Ah.” Chilchuck took another drag. “Elder Scrolls?”

“I played Skyrim,” Laios said. Chilchuck sniffed.

“Of course,” he grumbled. “Morrowind? Oblivion?”

“I always wanted Oblivion, but my mom wouldn’t let me buy it. Witchcraft.”

“That’s a shame,” Chilchuck hummed. “It’s good. A bitch to get running on modern machines, but I think it holds up.”

“How long have you been gaming?” Laios asked.

“Since the  late eighties, early nineties.” Laios gasped, and Chilchuck laughed it off. The sound made Laios buzz. “Yeah, yeah, I’m old, get it out of your system.”

“That’s so cool! You’re into retro stuff?”

“I guess that’s what the stuff I grew up with counts as now,” Chilchuck sighed. “I heard someone call Aerosmith an ‘oldie’ and almost had a cardiac event.”

“You are old, then.”

“Yep. But I also got to play Fallout when it first came out. That ending was nuts. I’m glad I didn’t get spoiled for it.”

“The old, isometric Fallout games? You like those? I like Fallout.”

“Yeah. I’m guessing you played Fallout 3?”

“Shooting people’s heads off in VATS is fun,” Laios said giddily.

“Sure it is,” Chilchuck drawled, and Laios had the sinking feeling he’d given the wrong answer. “New Vegas?”

“I was never into cowboys,” Laios admitted. “Never tried it.”

Chilchuck clicked his tongue. “God. I got some things to teach you.”

Laios sat ramrod straight in his chair.

“I’d—I’d like that,” he sputtered, before he could second-guess it. There was a long pause as Chilchuck polished off the last of his cigarette, a distorted shuffling sound as he moved to stamp out the butt.

“Yeah?” Chilchuck’s voice was low and warm, the hiss of his terrible mic like the soft noise of a record player. “I guess I could dig around in my boxes and rip a few CDs for you. For the sake of education.”

Laios was no stranger to wrestling with his rig to play older games. He had a PSX emulator for Monster Rancher that he’d managed to get to read discs properly, and some old PC simulator games that they just didn’t make anymore. Yet still:

“Could you—help me set them up? On call? Sometime?”

“I don’t see why not,” Chilchuck said. “I got nothing better to do.”

[twopoppies]

Ngl the Louis clips abt bald H and the one abt Niall made me think of that : https://x.com/totheverystart/status/1727491420125049186?s=46

Bc it’s always gonna be that. Theres always something off when they talk abt each other. Like they talk so openly abt the other boys, but when it’s about each other you’re always like “what the fuck was that”. It’s always so confusing and full of stuttering.

But good thing, we now know Louis has AI pics of H on his timeline

Yeah, you’re very right. It’s super frustrating that it’s still going on, and honestly infuriating that all the denials really do is make Louis look homophobic and just result in larries being attacked and harassed. And, of course, both sides will claim he’s talking to them when he says “real fans”. But, whatever. It’s been a decade of this nonsense.

x

[smallestapplin]

Alphas Larry, and Rika courting hc

-

-

💼Larry💼

- He never thought he’d ever find love, between his jobs and just constantly working, he thought he’d never find an omega he felt he needed to court.

- Until he met you. You have such a mellow and soothing scent, it almost puts him to sleep mid meal, like he can finally rest. And you’re so kind to him, happily keeping him company when he’s not working.

- Larry grew attached, but unfortunately he didn’t know how to tell you, or even ask you out. So he turned to the internet, most answers were…less than favorable, but he did find a few he liked.

- It starts with something that’s big for Larry, sharing his food. You’ve known Larry for a while, and never once seen him share his food, or allow anyone no matter the friendship, take from his plate. He’d always get the smallest bit aggressive and defensive. So you’re stunned when you comment on how good he’s eating looks (fully intending to order some yourself) only for him to divide it up on a separate plate and give it to you.

- You don’t make a comment about it, just accept his offer and happily eat. It makes him flustered to see you so happy over it.

- Next is gifts! Larry is a very simple man, a lot of people think he’s not listening, but he is. So the next part of his courting, is buying you things for your nest, or that you can wear to bring you comfort.

- The items he gives you aren’t scented, so you’re going to need to ask him if you want his scent in your nest. He pauses when you ask though, as if trying to process it before his cheeks turn a light pink “yeah sure, I can do that.”

-

-

👓Rika👓

- Once she realizes she’s in with you, smitten by you, and desperately wants to be your mate, nothing(except you) is stopping her from courting you. Rika is an alpha who knows what she wants, and what she wants is you.

- Rika is a little showy, making extravagant displays and getting equally as extravagant gifts for you. From giant life sized plushies, to expensive lounge clothes, Rika will make sure you have it.

- Constantly flirting and showing off how she’d make such a good alpha for you. Even gifting you items of hers that have been thoroughly scented. Your nest will be drowning in the scents of pine and teakwood.

- She does take every chance she can to join you in whatever you’re doing, always being so attentive even if it���s a topic she’s not into. And she always makes sure to use a dumb pick up line, one that has you giggling.

- She offers you a claiming gift, much like the courting gifts, this one is a smaller gift you can wear that’s covered in her scent, like a wrist band or a scarf.

- Rika nearly cries when you accept it, before covering it up with a smile and throwing an arm over your shoulders. “Don’t worry, as my omega I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”

- Later however, she’s screaming ‘yes! Yes! They said yes!’ In her house and cheering for herself. She loves you, she really truly does, and it just so happy she can call you her mate.

[free-for-all-fics]

The Lost Boys and Queen of the Damned/The Vampire Lestat crossover prompt! (In my head Lestat is still blond and face claimed by either Tom Cruise or Sam Reid, but if you wanna picture Stuart Townsend, go ahead!) Pls tag me if you’re inspired to write something based off any of the ideas below and I’d love to read it! ❤️🩸

You’re a vampire and the bassist for the rock band Satan’s Night Out with your human band mates Alex, Larry, and Tough Cookie. The band has been struggling for years, but your stage presence helps them gain popularity. As you get a cult following that grows bigger and bigger over time, you rise up from performing in seedy bars and underground clubs and land spots on bigger stages in better venues. When Lestat de Lioncourt is awakened from his decades long slumber after hearing your band rehearsing, he rises from his grave to join as the new lead vocalist. You rename your band as The Vampire Lestat and tour all over the country, playing to crowds of hundreds or thousands of people. You often play at sold out shows and sometimes your band is more anticipated than the main headliner. People really come to see The Vampire Lestat even if you’re just the opening act.

One of your stops is Santa Carla, California - the murder capital of the world! Hell fucking yeah, you and Lestat are so pumped! You just promoted a massive concert in Death Valley, but this is even better! This city really seems to come alive at night and there’s lots of interesting and colorful characters living here. Missing posters are littered everywhere but the police are desensitized to it and won’t lift a finger to investigate. Perfect, easy pickings for you and Lestat. You and Lestat receive several threats from other vampires warning you not to play in Santa Carla, but you dismiss them and have the concert anyway. While you’re performing on the boardwalk, the Lost Boys are completely entranced by the frenetic energy of your music as they watch you play and hear Lestat’s singing voice. You and Lestat can sense there’s vampires nearby, possibly even among the large crowd of fans. You and Lestat attempt to drive back to your hideout afterwards, but several vampires attack you and your car gets lit on fire. David and his Lost Boys swoop in and come to your rescue, fighting off the rival vampires. They urge you and Lestat to hop on their bikes and together you make your escape.

You’re both invited to hang out with them in their cave - It’s like a giant coffin and they live here. It’s full of tons of cool stuff; posters, a fountain, etc. It’s a totally sick setup! You drink, smoke, listen to music, and just fuck around together all night. It’s like a big vampire party. Both you and Lestat are sexy as fuck and would fit right in with them. They would love to have more members join their group since Michael Emerson and Star didn’t work out. It’s a long story. You’re invited to sleepover in their cave/coffin. Hell, you and Lestat could live here permanently if you wanted. There’s plenty of room since Star and Michael are gone, so you and Lestat can take their old “rooms” in the cave and make them your own. Really they’re more like spacious alcoves separated by curtains but you and Lestat have had far worse sleeping quarters so this is a welcomed improvement.

You also join the boys on hunts. Damn, they look so hot when their eyes turn yellow while they feed. Their hair gets messy from the wind, and their faces and clothing get covered in blood. Their fangs are bigger and shaped differently from yours and Lestat’s. You almost want to touch them. You and Lestat lick your lips when the boys ask if either of you are hungry and want a bite. You and Lestat accidentally bite your lips so hard that they bleed. Damn fangs. You try to cover it up and play it cool by sharing a passionate kiss. You and Lestat may have had an ongoing fling and fooled around with each other, but now you’d both like to take a bite out of David and his friends— Wait, what? Fuck, are you both lusting after these vampires? Fuck, are these vampires your mates? You may have to cancel the rest of the tour and stay in Santa Carla longer than you originally planned. This newfound sexual attraction has made things much more interesting, especially if it’s mutual and the boys reciprocate. Lestat may be experiencing ✨Bi Panic✨ and you’re in a similar bind.

[thewolvesof1998]

get to know your fic writer + WIP Snippet

Tagged by @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend 

When did you post your first ever fanfic?

God, I definitely posted 1D fics on Wattpad back in the day, probably in 2013 but I started posting again only in June of this year. 

First character(s) you wrote for:

It was probably something 1D related either Larry or an OC/Harry Styles

Main character(s) you’re currently writing for:

Buck and Eddie of course. 

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:

Hmmm I don’t have anything planned, I’m just following the hyperfixation but probably someone from the 911 world, maybe Ravi or May?

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:

9-1-1

Platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Buck and Chris- you can't really avoid Buck as Chris's other parent when writing Buddie. Bobby and Buck- another father-and-son relationship. Eddie and Sophia- the Diaz siblings. The entire firefam I suppose.

Romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Buck/Eddie

Your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

Not Beta Read, One Shot and Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz 

Your current platform where you post your works:

AO3

Snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:

I haven't written in weeks but the inspiration hit tonight so here a bit from a new wip- something for Halloween:

Eddie could hear the creak of the tree outside as the wind tumbled through its branches, someone calling for their dog a few doors down and a motorcycle roaring down the street adjacent to his. He could also hear Buck’s heartbeat, its usual slow and steady thump, thump, thump. Normally he would hear Christopher's soft breaths and fluttering heartbeat from the room down the hall but the house is empty tonight.  He can still taste the tequila from the shots they’d decided were a good idea after finishing their usual six pack. The alcohol warming his stomach, making his limbs feel like they belonged to someone else. Without thinking about it, they place themselves on Buck’s broad chest, his skin a contrast to the dark blue button-up Buck decided to wear tonight. Eddie can feel the sharp intake of breath beneath them and his eyes drag themselves up to Buck’s face. His usually pale skin is flushed ever so slightly, confusion dragging his eyebrows together in a look that would be comical if Eddie wasn’t so damn in love with him.  “Eds?” Buck whispers, so quiet that if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing he wouldn’t have heard it. Eddie doesn’t respond, not verbally at least, he just steps in closer, placing his forehead on Buck’s shoulder, face tucked into his neck. Buck’s hands automatically come up to rest on his arms and Eddie thinks just for a moment that he’s going to push him away but instead, Buck’s fingers curl around his biceps, holding him tightly.  Eddie breathes in, taking in Buck’s scent, citrus, honeycomb and sunshine on snow, it’s just as intoxicating as the alcohol. He’s nuzzling into Buck’s neck chasing that scent before he can stop himself. Buck shudders but doesn’t pull away instead, he bares his neck and tries to relax despite the vulnerable position. Buck has to know he’s not going to hurt him, Eddie could never hurt him.  He opens his mouth and sucks in a breath, “Buck…” his name is as sweet as the taste of him on Eddie’s tongue. It so distracting that he forgets what he is going to say and instead, his hands slide up and one around Buck’s neck and into his hair, using the grip to tilt his head so Eddie has better access. Buck gasps, his fingers digging in painfully before relaxing again but Eddie barely registers it, drowning in Buck’s scent until it was just Buck and only him.  Eddie’s teeth and claws lengthen as the primal need takes control, he manages to loosen his grip enough to avoid piercing Buck, the need to protect is just as strong as the need to mark and claim. 

Tagging:

@wikiangela​ @wildlife4life ​ @eddiebabygirldiaz ​ @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @bekkachaos @buddierights @forthewolves @911-on-abc @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @eddiediaztho @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @sammy-souffle @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff

[louisisalarrie]

heyy, what relationship do you think louis has with F? I know you don't believe that's his son, but personally I have many doubts on the whole thing and one of the main reasons is that i think he genuinely cares about him. I mean the way he talks about him and everything, and i dont mean interviews only, for example that time after a show when he met a little fan and he asked them how old they were and then he said something like "my little F is 7", he just said that bc he wanted to, so why would he do if he doesn't care about him? and I'm not saying that proofs that's his son, I'm just asking bc most larries that I see they claim that lou doesn't give a fuck about F, but I think he really does

hello lovely! if you are having doubts and want more info, check out this tags page that has a heap of bbg content from over the years that may help you make your mind up. and thank you for being respectful of what I believe even if you’re not sure 100% where you stand on it. so thank you and great to have you here!

I’ve touched on something similar to this before, in which, we know how much louis loves kids. him and his little sisters and bro, young fans, his sisters’ kids etc. like every situation we see him with a kid in, he lights up. same with Harry

anyway, I think bbg got out of hand and when it became far more long term and he had to be pictured with this child, he probably felt very frustrated and shitty that it got this far. He probably feels bad for the kid that his family got him involved in this, and now this kid won’t ever have a normal life. and so, he’s hung out with this kid every once in a while, watching him grow up, and I can imagine he probably does care about him a lot. He’s a very caring guy in general, and so under the circumstances, he’s trying to make this work the best he can.

He’s not gonna sit there and be like “gross kid get tf away from me” lol, but he’s balancing this distance of not being too close to become such a permanent fixture in his life, and not hurting this kid’s feelings. Again, it’s hard to know what F believes as he’s only like 8 or so, so I’m not sure how much they’ve divulged with him, but I’m pretty positive he’d know louis isn’t his dad by now tbh. but louis probably just feels shitty and wants to at least have the kid spend time having fun with him, rather than miserable for a life he didn’t choose.

Re your comment about him talking about F to the fans… in my opinion, bbg is now at the level of pretty much a strictly fan service stunt, and has been for a while now. we get the little gap filler articles from bored journalists like “all about louis tomlinson’s son!” etc. every once in a while, but otherwise it’s not really gaining him much publicity these days. he’ll mention him when he does those random Twitter chats, interviews here and there, and we get our annual Christmas photo (nothing for Father’s Day this year tho cough cough), but the GP don’t… care about it. But we as fans who follow his sisters’ accounts and are more invested, bbg is brought up for us. So because it’s not shoved in our faces from the press all the time, it’s easier to keep going with it by doing a mention about it here and there.

they still have this stunt as a bombshell to drop when necessary, though. Louis could gain some mad publicity with the end of it and still come out looking good, so it’s kinda just there until they find a suitable time for it to drop, which I have a feeling will be soon since it is so fan focused now.

lining up the end of stunts with releases/other big press news etc. is also quite tricky. this one has to be delicate because it’s got a kid involved, too.

[mrepstein]

hi again! 😭 sorry i keep sending you asks but you’re my go-to for brian info so: i was wondering if you know anything about a guy named larry stanton? he helped write a book about brian (called hide your love away) and he claims that he was brian’s friend for four years (and was in a relationship with him for a while?) but i’ve tried looking for him and i’m getting zero information, which i find strange considering he says that he was a record producer, sound engineer etc. there’s just so much conflicting information as well as hardly any, so i wanted to know if you know anything about it or if brian (or anyone close to him) has ever mentioned a larry stanton? once again thank you so much!! 🫶

Hi! (& sorry for my late reply!) I can't be much help as I haven't read the book. I have looked around for information about Stanton but haven't found much, apart from this post by one of the book's authors mentioning that he died in 2022.

[captmickey]

Fluffy Wonderland, a King's Quest Fanfic

I asked for a prompt to do of the guards and this is based entirely on the idea that Triumph gets a winter coat.

Can be found on AO3 as well

---

When Graham had won the Knights Tournament, the word of the knight from Llewdor spread like wildfire: How he used his wit to outsmart his opponent in the duels, how his archery skills is something to be feared and recognized, how his compassion for anyone that would even so much as look his way was immense.

And, most importantly, how unique his steed was.

It wasn’t the traditional horse like the others and it wasn’t something otherworldly like the famous and majestic Mr. Fancycakes. It was, however, a room for constant debate within the various households of Daventry where family members and friends would constantly debate as to what Triumph was. A gerbil? Capybara? Maybe a weird hamster thing… no one could rightfully say, and even asking Graham himself had him just stare, smile brightly, and go “Triumph is my best friend!”

Anyone who was anyone wanted a mere glimpse of the steed.

Number One was absolutely not one of those people.

There were many things Number One (reluctantly) allowed Graham to do, even as king. He allowed him to occasionally have those chocolate chip pancakes at night (and even go so far as to make it himself, even if it was unbecoming of a monarch to cook), he turned a blind eye to Graham wearing his adventurer’s cap in favor of the golden crown, he even allowed Graham from time to time to hug him during times of distress… but there was one very stern rule he told Graham that he will not, under any circumstances, budge on: Never let Triumph inside the blasted castle.

Not because he feared if the steed was ‘potty trained’ as Kyle and Larry so gleefully teased, that was truly the least of his concern based solely on how the steed was inside the stables. He stood firmly to that rule because the beloved royal steed ‘lovingly’ shedded like a monster every winter.

And every blasted year, Graham would bring Triumph inside during the peak of winter because it was ‘too cold’ even with the steed’s excessive and stunningly white winter coat.

He sat on the steps of the Throne Room that was currently covered in all things white fluffy with his arms resting on his legs with his armor long since discarded. Sitting beside him was Number Two, his armor also placed to the side alongside his own with his head in his hands. In front of the two guards was the source of their exhaustion, two brushes on the floor covered in its thick white fluffy coat looking to be nothing more than a ball with a head and ears… was Triumph.

Triumph looked their way and gave a small chirp as if to ask ‘everything alright?’

“How does one creature have so much excessive fur?” Number One grumbled, his eyes locked onto the steed’s beady stare.

“Add that to the pile of mystery questions. Right next to ‘does he hibernate’ but before ‘does he purr’.” Number Two said. He raised his head up. “Did the lad come back yet with whatever made device he claimed to have for all of this?”

“No. I believe he has abandoned us to our fluffy fate.” Number One picked at a tuft of fur off his undershirt. “Funny, I never thought I’d perish under something so… soft.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Hardly. I’m being somber.”

Number Two scoffed and shook his head, more bits of white fur coming off his head. “Y’know, with all this fur, we could make a second Triumph… maybe even open up a clothing line where instead of sheep’s wool it’s whatever this is. We’d call it Triumphantly Cozy.”

Number One took a very deep long breath, not willing to indulge in the make-believe scenario.

“Maybe sell dolls too.”

The captain of the guard looked around the throne room and frowned. “This is going to take months to find every last bit of fur and remove it from the room.”

“Not like you’re going to be doing it yourself, though.” Number Two countered.

“Ideally, but it’ll end up being like that.”

The second in command leaned back on his arms, staring. “How’d you figure?”

Number One scoffed. “It’s routine at this point: I’ll start cleaning, you’ll make some irritating joke, and then for the final stab, Pockets will make some infuriating pun and do that ridiculous sheepish smile of his. I’ll pout, you’ll tell me to lighten up and I’ll be fuming in absolute annoyance as I continue to find bits of this blasted fur inside my blasted armor and–”

He stopped and held his head in his hands, feeling Number Two patting his back.

“There, there… it’s not so bad.” Number Two said.

“It is. That’s how we got into this blasted situation in the first place.” Number One bemoaned.

Number Two paused, thought it over, and raised his brows. “Huh… good point.”

Triumph, as if overhearing the whole conversation and understanding it, stood up and began to walk over. Number One looked up from his hands and went wide eyed, pointing a finger at the steed.

“No no! No! Sit back down, you’ll get even more fur everywhere!” Number One tried to order. It was a foolish attempt, even he knew that. Triumph listened to no one but its own belly or Graham. “Sit! Sit!!”

Number Two bit his lip to not laugh as he watched Number One move back, a pointed finger still at the steed who stopped, stood for a moment and leaned its head to the side, preparing itself for a thorough shake.

The two guards eyes went wide and both leaned back. “No no no NO! TRIUMPH NO!”

The steed ignored and shook hard as more bursts of white fur fluttered into the throne room and, by extension, onto the guards who sat there. Number Two spat out some fur. Triumph gave a small trill before going over and pressed its fluffy white head against the captain’s chest and nuzzled.

“No, not the shirt!” Number One gasped before sighing in defeat, realizing Triumph was going to keep rubbing its head against him, as if asking for pets. Number One, naturally, obliged and began patting its head. “Zards…”

Triumph chirped and leaned into the scratch.

“You have a way with animals.” Number Two snickered, brushing some fur off of him.

Number One shot a glare his way but continued to pet Triumph as it kneeled back down and rested its head on his lap. He all but gave up at that point that he could somewhat spare his uniform of the white fluffy fur fate. He didn’t hate Triumph, that was a point he needed to be abundantly clear. He just hated the fur the steed shedded.

“You’re just like Pockets, you know that?” Number One sighed in defeat as he continued to pet Triumph. “A harmless nuisance that spreads warmth everywhere you go.”

“I think he likes you.”

Triumph, once more, chirped.

“He better, considering the length I go through just to make sure he’s not a walking blasted dandelion. Isn’t that right, Triumph?”

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

What’s been interesting to me is reading the comments on the viral TikToks this past month of that early footage, is that there’s a consistent sense of saying “wow they were definitely in love… obviously not anymore though. sad!” And while I think that’s a completely valid, even perhaps “normal,” stance to take today (even if I don't necessarily agree,) I still feel like that has to be complicated for the two of them. I make no claims that I know what Louis and Harry think or feel about their relationship/closet/situation, or if they even are clued in to what people are saying on TikTok. But I’m not sure if casual fans conceding that something happened in the past but that they’ve dated other people/had children with other people makes things any less complicated for them. Less pressure, perhaps, but it’s almost a lateral move because it’s not the current day that people are now disputing, they’re saying something definitely happened in the past, which if you’re closeted is… still tough, I would think. They really can't outrun that definitive footage. I feel for them.

Really interesting questions anon. One of the things I find so compelling about the fan created 'Larry Stylinson' canon is its on-going power. And the question then becomes - what would it mean to have this carefully packaged version of you that you can't escape.

Whatever the truth is, I think fans talking about Larry Stylinson have and always will made things harder for Louis and Harry (and I've said before in various ways - the more right people are the more risk of damage). I don't think it makes much difference the exact story people are telling. There's always going to be such a gap between the stories that are told about them and their life. I don't imagine that 'they were together once and now aren't' and 'they're together forever' look that much difference to them. I'm not sure that there's any story that takes the pressure off.

[usafphantom2]

The SR 71 retired early due to a few jealous and unfair attitudes. Despite the retrofitting of digital systems and communications links aboard the SR-71s, which allowed them to deliver imagery in near “real-time,” the US Air Force itself recommended the retirement. The backstory is, It was never about money.

I was listening to the “Blackbird SR-71 question and answers” by Terry Pappas. (I highly recommend that you go to Amazon and buy the book; all the profits go to the Wounded Warrior Project)It is also audible, so it’s really easy to listen to while you’re on your computer or your tablet. One of the questions that really caught my attention was Why did they retire the Blackbird when there was still nothing faster? A. It was reported by Habu’s working at the Pentagon, who personally briefed him that the US Air Force Chief of Staff General Larry Welch hated the Blackbird program. He had a running battle throughout his career with Jerry O’Malley. ( I knew Jerry O’Malley; he was a charming and personable man). O’Malley was a former SR-71 pilot and Wing commander of the SR-71s, who many people felt was in line to be the Air Force Chief of Staff. Jerry and his wife Diane were tragically killed in a plane crash in April 1985. Everyone loved Jerry and Diane. I can’t think of a finer couple in the Air Force than Jerry and Diane O’Malley. His untimely death opened the door for Larry Welch to assume top position at the United States Air Force.

General Welch showed his disdain for the memory of General O’Malley by having O’Malley‘s picture removed and placed at the other end of the Pentagon hallway, presumably so Welsh wouldn’t have to see it daily!! Horrible! Let me ask you, what kind of a man does that? Welch was given a VIP ride in the SR 71. I think that made him even more jealous that the SR-71 was one of the airplanes he was NOT chosen to fly. You might not know that he (Welch) was turned down when he applied for program as a Capt. because he was incompetent as a pilot, and it was documented. He went to the command post and, from there, politicked his way up. I didn’t fly him on that flight, but I doubt he ever touched the flight controls. A respected SR 71 pilot said this.

Ben Rich also talks about Welch in his 1990 book.

“General Larry Welch, the Air Force chief of staff, staged a one-man campaign on Capitol Hill to kill the program entirely,” Ben Rich wrote in his memoirs. “General Welch thought sophisticated spy satellites made the SR-71 a disposable luxury. Welch had headed the Strategic Air Command and was partial to its priorities. He wanted to use SR-71 refurbishment funding to develop the B-2 bomber. Columnist Rowland Evans said, ‘The Blackbird can’t fire a gun and doesn’t carry a bomb, and I don’t want it.’ Then the General went on the Hill and claimed to certain powerful committee chairmen that he could operate a Wing of fifteen to twenty (F-15E) fighter-bombers with what it cost him to fly a single SR-71. That claim was bogus. So were claims by SAC generals that the SR-71 cost $400 million annually to run. The actual cost was about $260 million.” Another lie was that there was something like the SR 71 that they had in the works and it just wasn’t ready yet. We have been waiting for SR 71 replacement for 23 years!

Both Welch and SAC commander General John Chain testified and lied before Congress that the SR-71 should go, and so it did.

As Rich so aptly reflected, “A general would always prefer commanding a large fleet of conventional fighters or bombers that provides high visibility and glory. By contrast, buying into Blackbird would mean deep secrecy, small numbers, and no limelight.

We need more Generals like Jerry O’Malley what a great man he was. I do get emotional about this subject as it was my own father, Butch Sheffield, who campaign with the leader of the Skunk Works, Ben Rich to reinstate the SR -71 after it was retired.

Written by Linda Sheffield Mille

[cantquitu]

your ask about sea made me think about some of the larrie stuff I saw to the creeper pic of Harry and TR: people asking how they can still claim it’s PR when they’re extremely low-key, to which the response was that this is a different type of PR (not movie PR like Olivia), this is “image repair” PR. Because all things that Harry does are somehow PR and in a very specific way that larries can decode: he wore his eagles beanie, not because it was cold but to insult TR. They’re sad because Harry’s image is so bad that people can’t immediately tell that it’s Harry Styles™️, not Harry Styles the person. Then they go on about “conflicting” PR narratives—they’re living together/in a hotel/broke up/spending Christmas together. It’s all the same problem at the end of the day: they think everything is about and for them specifically. So, it’s not simply tabloids speculating or strangers taking creeper shots. It’s all narratives and secret messages directed towards them. The kicker is that they were patting themselves on the back for being show business’ “worst nightmare” because they can see through the PR campaigns… Like, no, you’re everyone’s worst nightmare because you’re a bunch of deluded narcissists.

[twopoppies]

I'm not a larrie so you can disagree I hope you don't mind.Tbh I think the song is about abortion but I don't think it has anything to do with him. I don't think he'd just go around and record the song especially knowing what kind of fan base he has. The song didn't make it to the album so no one knows the context I think it's probably like Matilda it's for someone else maybe. Some Harries were saying he said writing is like therapy for him so even if he wrote it do they really think he'd go to a studio sing it in front of people and record it and let others listen to it. Maybe it's for someone who he's close with and just wants them to know it's okay not everything has to be romantic. Here we are talking about a man who values his privacy so I don't think he'd go around letting others know such personal info. And saying he has changed a lot so probably this is the reason for it doesn't make sense at all this song was supposed to be on fineline he looked pretty fine during the promo tbh he didn't even look heartbroken at all like he claims he does sorry not sorry. The Pandemic did change a lot of people so I don't know why when it comes to harry people think the worst. I kinda liked pub anon but the moment she said hendall was real they were young stupid and in love I was like nah she's also a fan and she's the one who pointed out how fake ho was and then praised Kylie and timothee which is obvs pr. she also said Camille was real idk for me haylor , hendall , hamille and ho were obv pr. What he's doing now i don't even consider it as anything . I'm not some crazy harry who thinks all his relationships are fake/pr and living my fantasy . He's the only one who said what we see is work and he has never dated anyone public and maybe if his team didn't follow the textbook pr method then it would've been more believable.

Hi, love. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I actually agree with you. To me, that song doesn’t seem like it has anything to do with his and Louis’ relationship (however you see their relationship). I see it more along the lines of Matilda, in that he wrote it about someone else or from the POV of someone else.

I have no idea why people seem to, more often than not, be assuming the worst when Harry in involved in things. But they’re always right there ready to pounce and drag him. It’s bizarre to me.

I unfollowed Pub anon during holivia because she very clearly disliked Harry almost as much as Olivia. Plus, she worshipped Camille and believed that relationship was real which just says to me that you know nothing. And now you’re saying she thinks Kylie and Timothée are real? Please.

[alarrytale]

“Harry refusing to label his sexuality and claiming that his friends and family know (peculiar thing to say if you're straight, even more peculiar thing to say if you want to keep your sexuality a secret).“

This! It doesn’t have anything to do with larry or you don’t need to be larrie at all but this - we still live in a very heteronormative world when being het is a default sexuality for everyone and so why one would say he’s open about his sexuality and refuse to label himself for public when you’re…straight? Or talking about having a journey with your sexuality and getting comfortable with it when at the end of the day you’re straight just like the most of the population on this planet? I believe that especially for H being open to his family and friends about this is one of the reasons why he’s not struggling that much when he has to perform straight-ness for public. Because he knows that when he comes home to his family and friends, he doesn’t have to hide anything nor his relationship.

There are days when I struggle the same way the anon struggles who wrote you about what if they will give up with their fight and will get married with a woman and have a proper children, you know, how long they can hold on until it will get weird for (especially) gp that they’re in their late 30’s and still no settling down - especially for H because gp doesn’t care that much about Louis and bbg is still on. And I guess this struggle will never go away until the day when they will CO but idk, Leo is in his 50’s and nobody found it weird he’s dating only models in their early 20’s like not weird in a way that they assume Leo’s just picky and that’s why he’s dating only young models but the reason is very different - he’s closeted gay.

Hi, anon!

Yes, everything he's saying about his sexuality shows that he's not straight. He knows who he is, his family and friends know who he is. The only people who doesn’t know is the public. It's not because he is private about it, it's because he's closeted and in a relationship with a fellow closeted man.

I don't think you should fear H and L marrying women and having kids with them. I think they'd rather stay single and date around like Leo does. I think they'd be miserable. They'd rather end their careers, say sayonara to us fans and come out.

About Leo, i think everyone who cares to know (and a good portion of people who don't care to know), knows he's closeted. Many of the people making fun of him only dating under 25s knows, but don't talk about the elephant in the room, because they don't want to out him or be the first one to speak.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

As Time Goes By: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I am so sorry I haven’t posted. I was sick with the flu and completely forgot about it. I will be posted both episodes now!

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

Henry directs Dean where to go, and you get to an antiques and comic book store. Henry claims it used to be the place where the old Men of Letters used to be, but it's not that anymore. Henry seems sad as he touches the mark on the door that's faded.

"Alright, well, this was enlightening. Let's hit the road, huh?" Dean says impatiently.

"Give him a minute, Dean," you sigh.

"We just spent four hours driving, okay? All he did was stare out the window and request Pat Boone on the radio. He had his time."

"It's just a facade," Henry says, "a way to rook our enemies into believing we are housed elsewhere."

"Okay, enough with the decoder talk. How about you tell us what this whole 'Men of Letters' and 'Legacies' business is, or you're on your own."

"It's none of your concern."

"No, you don't get to do that," you approach him from behind. "You don't get to tell us we're legacies and then not tell us why we are. Is this because we're hunters? What do you have against hunters?"

"Aside from the unthinking, unwashed, shoot-first-and-don't-bother-to-ask-questions-later part, not much, really."

"No, fuck this. We're also John's children," Sam says.

"You're more than that, actually. My father and his father before him were both Men of Letters, as John and you two should have been. Your mother and her mother and her mother before her were witches that were super powerful, as you should also be. We're preceptors, beholders, and chroniclers of all that which man does not understand. We share our findings with a few trusted hunters--the very elite. They do the rest."

"Okay, but if you guys were such a big deal, then why haven't we--or anyone we know--ever heard of you?"

"Abaddon."

Henry opens the door to the comic bookstore and walks inside. You take Joanna out of her car seat and grab her hand before following Henry inside. This place is small but it has a very homey feel to it. If you were someone who was into comic books, then you would feel safe here.

"Henry. Why? Why'd she do it?" Sam asks, catching up to him.

"I think for this."

Henry holds up a brown box with the same symbol that was faded on the door.

"What is that?"

"I wish I knew." He places the box back into his pocket. "Abaddon attacked us the night of my final initiation. All secrets were to be revealed then."

"Let me get this straight. You traveled through time to protect something that you don't know what it does from a demon you know nothing about?" Henry stares at Dean before heading deeper into the store. "Great."

"Hand me your... walkie-talkie," Henry demands of Sam.

"You mean my phone?"

"Even better." Sam hands over his phone, and Henry places the end of the phone to his mouth. "Operator, I need Delta 457."

"Who are you not calling?" you ask.

"Our emergency number."

"Yeah, not like that, you aren't."

You grab the phone and hand it back to Sam.

"They can't all be gone. There must be another elder out there who can help us figure out how to stop Abaddon and what to do with the box."

There is a young woman at the counter with a laptop in front of her, and Dean slinks up to the counter with a smile.

"Hi, could we hijack your computer for a minute?"

"Like you could fit a computer in this room," Henry laughs.

"Times are different, Henry. Shush."

"Sure."

The woman hands over the laptop, and Dean moves out of the way to let Sam do his thing on the computer.

"Give me the name of anybody who might have been there that night. One of those elders."

"David Ackers. Larry Ganem. Um, Ted--"

"Here it is," Sam cuts him off. "August 12, 1958. A tragic fire at a gentlemen's club at 242 Gaines Street."

"This is 242 Gaines Street. There was no fire."

"Larry Ganem, David Ackers, Ted Bowen, and Albert Magnus are all among the deceased."

"Albert Magnus."

"Is he a friend of yours?"

"Even better," Henry grins.

You didn't know that Henry needed to go to the cemetery. It's past Joanna's bedtime, but Henry really needs to dig up one of his friends for a reason you're not sure of. Joanna is sleeping in Dean's arms peacefully, not minding that she isn't in a bed. You would have stayed with her in a motel room, but you're scared that Abaddon would come for you. You know nothing about her, so you don't know of her weakness.

"These were my friends, my mentors, our last defense against the Abaddons of the world," Henry shines his flashlight on the headstones.

"Here's your buddy Albert Magnus."

"Albertus Magnus was hardly a buddy. He was the greatest alchemist of the middle ages."

"Why is he buried here?"

"He's not. His was the alias we'd use when going incognito. I believe someone planted his name in that article... so that if a Man of Letters came looking for answers, he'd know something was amiss."

"Someone wanted you to come to this grave. Why?"

Dean shines his flashlight on the grave and sees a unicursal hexagram symbol, which is carved into the headstone.

"What is this?"

"Our crest. The Aquarian Star represents great magic and power. They say it stood at the gates of Atlantis itself."

"It's on all of the tombstones except for Larry Ganem's."

Henry kneels in front of the headstone which has a different symbol carved into it.

"This is the Haitian symbol for speaking to the dead. This is the message. Have you three ever exhume a body?"

"I got this," you say and walk in front of the brothers.

You want to give them a break from digging up since Henry doesn't look like the kind of person who would do the dirty work. Joanna is sleeping in Dean's arms, and you don't want to wake her. Instead, you opt to use your magic since there is no way you're digging.

Your eyes shine blue as your magic encompasses the area around the grave. With one palm facing the ground, you lift your other hand, causing the ground to shake. The dirt lifts into the air, and you move it off to the side. You repeat this process until the grave is completely dug, exposing the coffin perfectly.

"You truly have no idea just how powerful you really are," Henry says in admiration.

"What do you mean?"

All Henry does is shake his head in amazement. Sam and Dean shrug, but you step off to the side to let Sam jump into the grave to open the coffin. Sam opens the top and peers inside, his face scrunching up in confusement. There is a skeleton inside wearing a suit.

"Was Larry a World War I vet?"

"No."

"Then who the hell is in his coffin?"

"No idea."

"Maybe Larry survived the attack. He has someone else placed in his coffin so that everyone thinks he is dead. If everyone thinks he's dead, he's safe from Abaddon and everything that comes with her. Maybe he's living this guy's life. Who is he?" you ask.

"Captain Thomas J. Cary III."

"Okay. What are we waiting for, then? Cover this up. Let's be on our way."

Henry walks off back to the car, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. Sam jumps out of the grave after placing the top of the coffin back on, and you use your magic to put the dirt back inside the hole. Once you're done, you three follow Henry back to the car.

You need intel on this guy, so you need to head back to the motel room and do some research. When you walk in the door, Dean heads to the main bedroom area in the other room and lays Joanna down on his bed. She hasn't woken up at all, so you know she will sleep throughout the night.

You, Sam, and John take the chairs at the table, and when Dean emerges from the bedroom, he pulls up a chair next to you. Sam is reading John's journal, John is just twiddling his thumbs and whistling "As Time Goes By", and you're using Sam's laptop. Dean takes a seat next to you and takes over on the laptop, not that you're complaining.

"What is that? I know that tune."

"'As Time Goes By'. It's from Casablanca."

"Right. Dad used to whistle it from time to time."

"Your father saw 'Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy' at the drive-in one night. It scared the beeswax out of him. So, I got him this little music box that played that song to help him sleep at night. It worked like a charm."

"Wow, it's hard to believe Dad was ever scared of anything," Sam chuckles.

"Hey, according to county records, Tom Carey lives in Lebanon, Kansas, and is a very happy 127-year-old," Dean says, getting back on track. "I say we get some shut-eye and head over first thing in the morning."

"Wait, listen to this. According to Dad's journal, he once tortured a demon that said he made his bones working for Abaddon, who is a Knight of Hell."

"What does that mean?" you ask.

"Knights of Hell are hand-picked by Lucifer himself. They are of the first-fallen, first-born demons."

"So, very pure and very strong," Sam confirms.

"Legend has it that Archangels had killed all of them, which, as we have witnessed, is not the case. Unless she's the last of her kind."

"Wait, let's sidetrack for a second here. You're keeping me in the dark, Henry. What did you mean by how powerful I can be, and what legacy do I come from?"

"Have you ever heard of the Sapphire Witch?"

"No."

"Legend has it that the Sapphire Witch has control over Order Magic, which is the opposite of Chaos Magic. You can do anything you set your mind to. The Sapphire Witch can bend reality to her image. I've never seen a Sapphire Witch at her peak, but I know they exist. The Men of Letters have kept records of them dating back generations. I'm truly shocked you haven't heard of this. Your mother was a sapphire witch, and your grandmother was one. She was one of my good friends."

"I can't believe this," you whisper, trying to process this information.

You're the Sapphire Witch? Will Joanna and Maryann be one too? What does this mean for your magic? What sides have you yet to unlock?

"You say that belonged to your father?" Henry moves on to John's journal. "May I?"

Sam slides the journal over to Henry.

"It's a hunter's journal. I assume the Men of Letters used journals, too?"

"I intended to. I sent away for one the day before my initiation." He opens the journal and sees pictures Dean has stashed in there. He moves them to reveal a "HW" stamped in the leather. "As a matter of fact, judging by my initials here, this one, I believe."

"This was yours?"

"It must have arrived after... I'm beginning to gather I don't make it back from this time, do I?"

"We don't know for sure. All we do know is that Dad never saw you again."

"What did he think happened to me?"

"He thought you ran out on him."

"John was a legacy. I was supposed to teach him the ways of the Letters," Henry sighs sadly.

"Well, he learned things a little differently."

"How?"

"The hard way. Surviving a lonely childhood and a fucking war only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon... Then, later killed by one himself. That man got a bum rap around every turn. You know what? He kept going, and in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad."

"Debatable," you blurt.

Dean and Sam's head snap to you, and you press your lips together. Dean scoffs and gets up, slamming the laptop shut. He grabs his jacket and his keys with the intent on leaving alone.

"I'm sorry. I wish I had been there for him."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that now, don't you think?"

"It's the price we pay for upholding great responsibility."

"Your responsibility was to your family, not some glorified book club!" Dean yells.

"I was a legacy. I had no choice."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

Dean walks out of the motel room and slams the door behind him. You let him leave alone since he needs time to cool down on his own. Sam decides this is a good time to get some sleep. He will take the other bed where Joanna is, and you and Dean will take the bed with Joanna while Henry will take the sofa couch.

It's just you and Henry at the table now, and you feel like this needs to be said.

"John wasn't a good father," you whisper to Henry. "The best he could have done for us was to take care of us when we needed him. The best he could have done was to move on after Mary died, but instead, he took me and his sons down with him."

You get up and head to the bedroom to get ready for bed. Dean doesn't come back for another hour, but when he does, everyone else is sleeping. Dean tiptoes past Henry and into the bedroom where you and Sam are asleep. He takes off his shoes and gets into bed next to Joanna so that she is between you and Dean.

You stay like that until the morning, but when you wake up, Henry is gone.

x

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