#Coda series

[eloreenmoon]

A to Z (Coda Book 2) by Marie Sexton #Audiobook #Review #MMRomance #Contemporary #LGBT

    Erryn reviews ‘A to Z (Coda Book 2)’ by Marie Sexton. This book was released on January 9, 2023, and is 232 pgs long. The audiobook version of this story was narrated by John Solo.  It was released on January 27, 2023, and is 6 hrs and 17 mins long. Why I read this book:  I love this author/narrator combo.   Zach Mitchell is stuck in a rut. His college boyfriend left him 10 years ago, but…

[coddda]

Light's relationship with his father is such a heartbreaking multi-faceted tragedy to me I hate it so so so much.

Soichiro loves his son so much, and while he's certainly not a perfect father I know that he cares deeply about Light. He wants to prove Light's innocence so badly but he can't let go of the underlying doubt that he might really be Kira and it gnaws at him. He does not know that from the very beginning he was being used by Light, whether it was to obtain information about the investigation, or to get to L, or to strengthen the foundations of his own lie that he wasn't Kira, this entire time he was simply another resource. He'll hang onto this doubt for years, even after L is dead, even if he doesn't express it in the latter half of the series, until he himself is on his deathbed, with what he believes to be undeniable proof that Light isn't Kira. (It's a lie, of course.) He dies happy, but it's on the foundations of blissful ignorance. His own son brought him here, brought him to the point where he had to sacrifice half of his own remaining life span, to his own death march, and was still trying to use him even now to kill someone else, but he doesn't know that. Soichiro said that what was evil was the power to kill others, and that whoever used it was cursed. Light was that cursed man, of course, and he tried to bring that curse onto Soichiro too by making him kill in his last moments. Soichiro was happy regardless, because he didn't know. He'll never know. (In the manga/anime at least. More on that later).

Light loves his father but it's not enough to turn him away from the terrible decisions he's made, if anything it only fuels them. His idea of "justice" is a twisted model of what he parroted from Soichiro, and he uses his father as another pawn (and a powerful one at that) in his plans. If he can prove that Kira is justice then perhaps his father will no longer call Kira, and therefore Light, evil, so he just needs to ensure that Kira becomes justice, right? It's Light's own actions that land his own father in the hospital for a stress-induced heart attack and yet he says only a few minutes later that he's the happiest he's ever been in his entire life. Even after Soichiro denounces Kira by calling him evil, even after he calls the Death Note's power evil, even after he unknowingly tells Light that he is cursed. When Soichiro dies Light is too deep in his own plans to actually properly process the fact that his own father is dying past what it means for his goals, but at the same time he still cares enough that after the fact he'll genuinely cry, only to brush it all away later. (Personally, I don't have a single doubt in my mind that Light's crying in that scene was genuine and I Will die on this hill). Soichiro had unknowingly denounced Light one last time just before his death, openly relieved that he "wasn't Kira after all", which also reveals that he has had doubts about Light this entire time, even after L died. By the time he's caught at the Yellow Box Warehouse Light will have denounced his father too, seeing him as someone who was made to be a fool, someone who was naive, even, too earnest for his own good. He won't realize that part of this description of his father might have applied to Light himself, back when this all started. Light takes after his father so much in so many ways already, so why not in this way too?

Ough. And honestly the other adaptations never miss out on this tragedy either, and I love them for that. (spoilers for the musical and 2006 live action movies I guess?)

In the musical we see Soichiro express his doubts and conflicts about who to believe, Light or L, if the son he raised really is a murderer, if everything he knows about him is just a lie. Like, there's an entire song about this, and you can tell how torn he is about it all, how badly he wants Light to be innocent but about how he also needs to face the truth no matter what it is, but at the end of it all he doesn't even get the answers he wants. At the end of the musical the only thing he finds is two corpses, Light's and L's, with no answers. No last words, no closure, only dead ends and a dead son and a grieving daughter. It's so awful I hate it here.

And the live action movie is fucking Insane. Like, wow. Okay. (Spoiler for the ending of Death Note The Last Name I guess) In the 2006 movies/novels Light writes Soichiro's name in the Death Note himself, and it's such an inconcievable move that it leaves even Misa shocked; Light tries to make Soichiro give him the Death Note for the last part of his plans, seeing his death as a "necessary sacrifice" (insert tangent essay about why I think 2006 live action movie Light is actually the most "coldhearted" Light Yagami, despite how infamous anime Light is). It doesn't work, and Soichiro does end up finding out that Light is Kira this time, and they have a confrontation, but he doesn't even sound truly hateful towards Light for it. He Never seems to outright hate Light for it, even after Light calls the whole confrontation a waste of time and instead tries to continue killing with the piece of the notebook in his watch, even after he tries to get Ryuk to kill everyone. When Ryuk inevitably writes Light's name and he collapses, Soichiro still reaches out for him and holds onto him as he's dying. Light literally dies in Soichiro's arms, still looking for the validation that he was right, that this wasn't all for nothing, that he was doing the good thing, trying to make Soichiro understand that he was trying to enact justice based on what he learned from him in the first place. Soichiro not only learns but sees for himself what his son has become, and Light dies in his arms leaving no closure for either of them. Soichiro will announce Light's death in L Change the WorLd on the news without saying his name, saying instead that it is only Kira who is dead, even though he and Light are one in the same. Sachiko and Sayu will never get to know the full truth about what happened to Light, instead Soichiro will lie and instead tell them: "Light was killed by Kira."

And then holy Shit the jdrama. If I write about it here this post is gonna literally double in length and also I don't really wanna spoil it but. Man. Man. If you watched it you know. Holy Shit dude I Cried.

It's the fact that, canonically, Soichiro will die oblivious to what Light has done, but even in the instances where he does find out, it doesn't make it any better, and it doesn't make him love Light any less, it just gives him more to grieve.

It's the fact that there isn't a single universe where Light doesn't use his father for his own gain, whether to gain information, or to try and control him with the Death Note, or make him write in the Death Note himself, and not a single time will he realize just how far he's strayed from Soichiro's ideals, and not a single time will he not forsake him for it by the end of the story.

It's the fact that, despite everything, Light will always refers to Soichiro as "dad/my dad" (informal) rather than "father/my father", even after he has been "denounced" (and this is true in every language that Death Note has been translated in, as far as I could find. Man, isn't that so cool! :) <- Through tears).

Anyways that's what I've been thinking of how's your guys' days going

[hippolotamus]

Who would I be if I didn't come barreling in with queer feelings??? Inspired by this post from my wife @bidisasterevankinard, this morning's therapy session and a few too many listens to Cleopatra by The Lumineers 😘

late for this, late for that | 7x06 coda | 757 words | G

“Not late. Right on time,” Evan sighs, content and sated, turning in his arms so they’re back-to-chest. It allows him to settle into his newly discovered love of being the little spoon. And Tommy’s new found love of indulging Evan.

“Good to know.” He presses a kiss into Evan’s mussed, disheveled curls, chuckling at the light snores his – boyfriend? Date? Guy he’s seeing? – is already making. 

If he’s being honest, ‘right on time’ is the furthest thing from what he feels. Evan hasn’t said as much, but Tommy suspects he’s started to question things about himself. About his life in general, past interactions, romances, friendships, crushes. Eventually he’ll likely face one of the biggest, if not the biggest, questions. How could I not know? 

As someone who went on a similar journey, he’ll do his best to guide Evan through. He wants to wave the proverbial magic wand to produce easy, matter-of-fact answers and soothe any wounds, but Evan will have to do that part on his own. Eventually it becomes a rewarding experience, making those discoveries, but he knows as well as anyone that it can be a bitch of a road to travel. An often dark pathway loaded with unexpected landmines. Full of monsters that go ‘boo’ at the very worst times, usually just when the dust of the last jumpscare has settled. 

Not for the first time – and likely not for the last – the notion makes Tommy wish they could have met earlier. That he could somehow turn back the clock to meet himself earlier so he could be there for Evan. He’s already put himself through the wringer, in therapy and in his own mental torture chamber, about why he lied for so long about who he is. But, as his therapist reminds him over and over again, these things are never truly done. There are often new layers unveiled, triggered by different circumstances. Sometimes big and loud, sometimes ordinary and everyday. Tommy thinks Evan might be a bit of both. 

Either way, here he is, wondering how his own life might have been different if he hadn’t denied himself for so long. If he could have been brave like Hen and said ‘this is who I am’. Because it’s not as if he didn’t know. Tommy knew exactly who he was, who he is. He’s known since the first time he kissed CJ, his high school football team’s defensive tackle, behind the bleachers after practice one late summer night. God knows he had been questioning for a hell of a lot longer. 

However, he can’t time travel and change things. He can’t give past versions of himself options that didn’t exist. Well, technically they did, but it meant blowing up his entire life and being ostracized. While Hen didn’t have anything to lose, because she was already being isolated by that era of the 118, Tommy did. 

He had what he thought were friends, though, really, most of them were alliances. People he accepted as friends for the high cost of burying his identity. Paid for with girlfriends and the occasional male sex worker when he really needed to let go. With living an empty, lonely, fraudulent existence, constantly saying no to the things and experiences he craved. Because saying yes - to ‘just one’ gay club, one pride event, one secret boyfriend willing to be called girlfriend for appearances - meant risking being found out. Meant taking a wrecking ball to the carefully curated macho persona he’d built for protection. Meant having all of his ‘meaningful’ supports and relationships ripped away. It was bad enough that his own parents couldn’t be there for him. He didn’t need the camaraderie of firefighting taken away, too. 

Evan snorts and snuffles, pulling Tommy back to the present. He turns in his sleep, somehow burrowing closer as he throws an arm across Tommy’s waist. His mouth is slack and parted, breathing calm and even. 

A wave of fondness washes over Tommy as he watches his… Evan sleep, blissfully unaware of all the things tumbling around in his brain. It’s an emotion he hasn’t felt in a while, not like this, but he’s grateful for how naturally it seems to want to return. 

Maybe they couldn’t meet earlier or change their histories, save themselves or each other from pain. But they’re here now with their combined battle scars, ready for something, whatever that looks like. And isn’t that better than never? So, perhaps what Evan said was true. Maybe he’s not too late and they’re right on time. 

part 2 (Eddie's POV) here

[jessicamdawn]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: บ้านหลอน ON SALE | Peaceful Property (TV), บัานหลอน On Sale | Peaceful Property Series (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Home Saharat Vimarnsukmun & Peach Santiphap Tantitaymitr Characters: Home Saharat Vimarnsukmun, Peach Santiphap Tantitaymitr Additional Tags: spoilers for episode 7, Coda, Gen or Pre-Slash, Communication Failure, Apologies, Angst, Loop, Hurt No Comfort Summary:

Episode 7 coda, from Home's point of view.

-

Peach and Pang's apartment building loomed before him, but Home didn't hesitate. He ran inside, didn't wait for the elevator, took the stairs two at a time, and rushed down the hallway to room 403.

He had to tell Peach. He had to clear things up with Peach.

With a hand that only shook a little, Home reached out and knocked. Knocked. Knocked.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Part 9 - “After the Fallout” is currently available on AO3

Hiatus Reading

The After Series

98K words; Currently 10 Completed works.

The After Series goes beyond the events that were shown in CANON and focuses on the intimate parts of Buck and Eddie's relationship from a FANON perspective. Each part within the series includes their off-screen conversations and interactions.

After the Ambulance - 4K words; Rated General Audiences: Buck and Eddie return to the station after the ambulance explosion. Buck cooks for Eddie and they have their first of many real conversations as trusted partners.

After the Earthquake- 6K words; Rated General Audiences: Buck drives Eddie to pick up Christopher from school, he then drives them home and Eddie’s heart is full of warmth when he sees his boys together for the first time.  Also, Maddie realizes that Buck is falling in love.

After Getting Stuck - 8.6K words; Rated General Audiences: Buck drives Eddie to the hospital after Eddie’s abuela breaks her hip. Buck meets Eddie’s aunt Pepa and he starts to organize everything to help Eddie get permanent childcare for Christopher.

After Being Dosed - 7K words; Rated General Audiences:  Buck and Eddie help Maddie move into her new apartment, Eddie gets petty with Taylor Kelly after she flirts with Buck and Eddie tries to cook for Buck.

After Feeling Haunted - 4.2K words; Rated General Audiences: Buck finally decides to let go of his ‘invisible girlfriend’ while Eddie misunderstands something that was said to him.

After Choosing Their Lives - 13.3K words; Rated Mature:  After everything that happened, Buck and Eddie are both finally single at the same time and they choose each other.

After the Tsunami - 12K words; Rated: Teens and Up Audiences:   Buck and Eddie are keeping their situationship a secret but after Buck’s embolism and the Tsunami, they both realize they can't live without each other.

After the Lawsuit - 9.1K words; Rated: General Audiences: On Friday, November 1, 2019, Buck and Eddie finally talk about the lawsuit. They make up but Eddie doesn't tell Buck he's still doing something that could cause him to lose everything.

After the Fallout - 16.7K words; Rated: Mature:  Eddie finally tells Buck about his participation in the illegal fight club and Buck apologizes to Eddie again for filing the lawsuit.  They fall even deeper in love as their secret relationship continues.

After the Well - 16.9K words; Rated Mature:  Buck and Eddie break down after the well incident and Eddie finally tells Buck something that Buck’s been wanting to hear for almost a year. This is currently part 9 within the series but it will be continuously demoted until the series surpasses 3x15 “Eddie Begins”.

Continue reading on AO3

[dalmascan-requiem]

(Count)Down To Dawntrail - Endwalker

more info here

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 2x17 Heart

The echo of the shot reverberates through Dean’s bones like a seismic tremor. He flinches, surprised at the tear splashing down his cheek. He hadn’t felt it coming, his face numb while he’d held himself together for Sam. For Maddie.

Now, sorrow rolls over him in a suffocating wave. What his little brother just did, had to do, is inhuman. Dean doesn’t know how Sammy’s going to survive this - another loss, another gut punch of grief, and this time he’s been the executioner. What ruin is he going to find when he walks into the other room to pick up the pieces of his baby brother’s heart?

Under the sorrow, dread makes Dean’s heart pound. What if, down the line, they will end up just like this? With Dean pointing a gun at Sam’s head to put down the monster he’s become? If Dean can’t save him, if there’s ultimate, irrefutable proof that Sammy isn’t Sammy anymore, if Dean sees the monster in him with his own two eyes - will he be able to put him down? 

So far, he’s almost stood at that crossroad twice. When they thought Sam was infected with the Croatoan virus, Dean had refused to kill him. When it looked like Sam had killed a fellow hunter, blood still on his hands, begging Dean to shoot him, Dean hadn’t been able to even train the gun on him. Both times, there had been a margin of doubt. Both times, Dean had been able to prove that Sam was innocent, that he wasn’t Sam. He’d saved him. But what if there was truly, irrevocably nothing left to save? 

Dean doesn’t want to go there. He can’t go there. He’s just not going to let that happen. If he keeps his guard up, if he keeps watching out for Sammy, if they catch up to the yellow-eyed demon before whatever he’s planning comes to fruition, if he keeps Sammy safe… Dean hangs on to those ‘if’s’ and to his own strength that he pulls up from the very ground he’s standing on. Sam needs him to be strong now. 

Releasing a breath he’s held for far too long, Dean rolls his shoulders, wipes the tears off his face and straightens his back. Carefully rearranging his expression into a calm, composed mask, he sets his feet in motion and walks into the other room.

xxx

Sam is dimly aware that he’s slipping into shock as he stands over Maddie’s dead body. Weirdly detached, he’s staring at the bloody hole in the middle of her chest and at her wide open eyes, their far-away gaze fixed in death. Tear tracks are drying on Sam’s face, and they’re cold. Everything feels cold. Like his hand that’s still holding Dean’s gun at the end of his outstretched arm. Is that even his hand? It doesn’t feel like it belongs to him.

Sam recognizes this feeling of dissociation, of a wall separating him from himself, to hold off the storm of emotions that would otherwise consume him. He’s been here before, after Jess’ death, after Dad’s death. It’s shock. His body is protecting his mind from shattering. 

There should be guilt. There should be sadness. There should be fear that he, too, will become what Maddie became - an ungovernable beast that can only be stopped by a bullet through his heart. There should be the desperate hope that he, too, will be brave enough to choose death before the choice is taken from him. Before he kills and kills and kills and kills. 

But he feels nothing. A deceptive blankness has laid itself over the turmoil underneath. Sam can sense it, can feel the madness of it all clawing at his defenses. The earth is rippling underneath him like the unsteady ground over a sheet of lava. Any time now, the crater of what he just did will break open and swallow him whole. 

He cannot allow it. He cannot let himself burn. He chose this. Chose to be strong for Maddie, to be strong in front of Dean. He can’t fall apart now, even when his mind screams at him, behind that barrier of cracking glass.

You’re cursed. You are a monster. Everything you love, dies. 

Sam can’t tear his eyes away from Maddie. His arm starts to shake. The gun drops from his grip. He cannot feel his legs anymore. They give out underneath him, and he falls…

… into Dean’s bracing arms. He’d stepped into the room just to see Sam buckle. The kid’s heavy, too-long limbs everywhere when Dean catches him around the chest and guides him to the floor, his brother’s shaggy head sagging against his shoulder. 

“Sammy! Hey, you with me?”

Dean kneels, his brother’s six-and-a-half feet sprawled half on the carpet and half in his arms. Sam’s face is ashen, the claw marks on his cheek glaringly red. Half-lidded, pupils blown wide, Sam’s eyes don’t seem to see Dean but something far-off, in the distance. His skin is cold and Dean can see his carotid pulsing erratically in his neck.

Shock.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey, stay with me, man! Come on!”

Dean cups his brother’s good cheek, his hand incongruously warm against Sam’s clammy skin, and his eyes frantically scan Sam’s body. He can’t see any additional injuries. Maddie didn’t attack him before he shot her; Dean would’ve heard it from next door, and the hole in her chest is neat and dead-center. She didn’t fight her execution. 

No, this is a different kind of shock. One he’d feared would happen if he let Sam do this. 

“It’s okay, Sammy,” he whispers into his brother’s ear, cradling him tighter to his chest. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

In the end, it takes more than stubborn reassurance to bring Sam out of his stupor. Running through basic shock protocol, Dean gently lays his brother out on the floor, head on his folded jacket, feet propped up on a chair. From the bedroom, Dean fetches blankets. One goes over Maddie’s body, her face and bloody chest hidden from Sam’s sight now. The other is for Sam, and Dean has memories of tucking his baby brother in when they were both still children, as he wraps Sam in the all-too-cheerful quilt he pulled from Maddie’s closet.

“This is better, right?” Dean keeps up a string of one-sided conversation as he takes care of Sam, hoping it’ll ground him. “Nice and warm. Gonna get you toasty. There.”

Back on his knees beside Sam, Dean brushes his brother’s hair out of his face and cups his forehead. Dean’s not the touchy-feely type, but this is Sam. His baby brother who huddled up close to him after nightmares when they were little, who grabbed Dean’s hand and held on for dear life when he was scared, who hugged him fiercely when he came back from a hunt with Dad. No matter how much Sam always fought to get away from him and the life Dean had chosen, he needs his big brother close now.

“Come on, Sammy. Hang in there. Come back to me!”

Dean’s just beginning to wonder if it’s time to call 9-1-1 when Sam finally stirs back to life. He blinks and turns his head into Dean’s hand, eyes searching. 

“Dean…”

Thank God.

And then Dean sees it all rushing back in, sees the dam breaking. Sam gasps, his eyes turning wet. Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, he struggles to sit up and a noise comes from his throat that sounds far too young and far too small for such a big guy. 

One hand on his back, Dean tries to steady him. “It’s okay, Sammy. You’ll be okay.”

“Dean, I… I can’t–” Sam’s face contorts into a grimace of grief and pain. He bites down on his trembling lip, breathing hard.

Dean doesn’t break contact. His palm draws circles on his brother’s back. As much as he doesn’t want to see Sammy cry, he knows it’s the time for tears. Bottling them up will only tear him apart. 

“It’s okay,” Dean whispers again, his own chest constricting painfully. “Just let it go.”

And then the tears come and Sam’s an ugly sobbing mess in Dean’s arms. 

Dean lets him, just holding him firmly, the way he used to when they were still children, before Sam became too stand-offish and too stubborn to let Dean comfort him when he was sad or scared. There’s no judgment from Dean, no rough orders to be a man and pull himself together. Dean’s not their father - not when it comes to this. Sam’s always been the softer one, and it’s better if he lets his pain out instead of shoving it down and burying it, like Dean always does. It’s not weakness. Deep down, Dean thinks it makes Sam stronger - better at processing whatever life throws at him. More capable of living it.

The sobbing eventually quiets down to embarrassed sniffling, and Sam squirms out of Dean’s embrace, pushes away from Dean’s chest, where his shirt is now damp and blotchy. Sam wipes his face, hands still a little shaky, and clears his throat. “I’m fine, I’m…” He sounds stuffy. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so… I-”

“I know.” 

Relieved, Dean gives Sam a firm pat on the back, and they both climb to their feet. Sam’s face loses a bit of color again when his eyes roam over Maddie’s body on the floor, and Dean grabs him by the elbow. 

“I’ll take care of her,” Dean says, steering Sam away. “Don’t worry about that now. Let’s get you out of here first. You need some air. And rest. I’ll come back later and clean up.”

When Sam hesitates, shoulders stiffening, legs refusing to move, Dean leans closer to his brother. “I’ve got her,” he says, with surety. “I promise.”

Sam’s head turns away from Maggie, his eyes finding Dean’s. The grief in them breaks Dean’s heart. Sam hesitates some more, then nods, barely perceptible. “Thank you.” 

Dean only breathes easier when he has Sam down the stairs, outside, and in the passenger seat of the Impala. A flashlight between his teeth, he takes care of the claw marks on Sam’s face, disinfecting them diligently, then pushes a water bottle into Sam’s hands. 

“Here. Hydrate.” 

Slowly, Sam uncaps the bottle and drinks. He’s still a bit zombie-like and sluggish in his reactions, but Dean chalks it up to sheer exhaustion. The sooner he’s got him tucked into a motel bed and sleeping, the better.

Dean starts the Impala, the rumble of its engine uncannily loud in the quiet neighborhood. There’s little traffic when he steers the car onto the main road, heading for the city limits to find a cheap place to stay. Beside him, Sam is clutching the half-empty water bottle. 

“Dean?” His voice sounds hollow.

“What is it?”

“What I did to Maddie… what I did for her…” Sam swallows. “Will you do this for me, too? If it comes to it?”

Dean clutches the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. Then he looks over at Sam, eyes narrow and hard. “You’re not Maddie, Sam. You are not a monster. And you never will be.”

“But what if-”

“No!” Dean glares at him before he looks back on the street. “No. It won’t happen! I won’t let it happen. End of discussion.”

Sam opens his mouth again, but he doesn’t say anything, most likely sensing Dean’s mood shift from worry to anger. Or maybe he’s simply too worn out to argue. In any case, Dean is glad that his brother, for once, doesn’t put up a fight. They’re both exhausted after what happened, and Dean still has to go back and dispose of Maddie’s body, clean away blood and fingerprints and any other traces that may lead back to them. 

A flickering orange motel sign coming up on their left catches Dean’s attention. “The Fisherman”, although they’re nowhere near the bay. But there are vacancies, and when he finally herds Sam into a room on the first floor, it’s surprisingly modern and smelling of fresh paint. He pushes Sam onto one of the comfortable-looking beds. 

“Lay down,” he tells him, stooping to pull Sam’s boots off, but his brother pushes him away.

“I can do it.”

Dean eyes him skeptically. His little brother looks like crap. He moves in slow motion as he undresses, weariness radiating off him in leaden waves. The marks on his cheek are raised and glistening. Sam’s hair is tousled and sweaty, his whole body slumped as if faltering under a heavy weight. He’s going to need a shower and more wound cleaning, but for now, he desperately needs to rest.

When he’s stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers, he crawls underneath the sheets to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling, but from his lazy blinking Dean can tell it won’t be for long. Sleep is already reaching for Sam, and soon he’ll roll onto his belly and conk out, arms and legs akimbo as always.

“You okay here on your own for a while?” Dean asks, fighting the old urge to tuck the blanket tighter around his little brother.

“Yeah.” It’s a coarse whisper.

“Get some sleep, Sammy. I’ll be back soon.”

Still looking at the ceiling, Sam just nods. Dean pats his foot through the blanket, turns around and leaves.

In the Impala, he shoves a different tape into the Impala’s tape deck and turns the volume up. Metallica blasts from the speakers.

Nothing else matters.

Dean drives back into the city’s heart, bracing himself for the task at hand. It’s going to be a while until he, too, will find some sleep.

The Damage Control Series - Masterlist

Read the whole series on AO3 here:

[alrightbuckaroo]

Anger Has Told Me Her Real Name is Grief

Chapter: 1/1 | Rating: General Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | Word Count: 855 | Carlos is letting his grief manifest into anger; no matter how much he doesn't want it to.

On the card, in solemn black letters are the words, “Sorry for your loss”.

Carlos chuckles softly to himself; it’a sound filled with void and discomfort. He doesn’t think loss can begin to describe how he’s feeling; to describe that black pit that’s growing deeper and deeper. Last night all he wanted to do was drown in it. 

That’s the thing about grief; it’ll crawl down your throat and make itself at home. It’ll find a way to rob you of words you never thought you knew. It’ll find a way to to cut open a part of you that you never knew was there. It’ll find a way to keep the blood flowing, no matter how much you try to stop the bleed. 

Carlos rips the card in half and throws the remnants in the trash can. He closes the trash can lid hard. Not hard enough to startle, but hard enough for TK to notice; because he's TK.

continued on ao3 <3

tagging some moots i really want to share this with <3

@heartstringsduet, @carlos-in-glasses, @chaotictarlos, @reyesstrand

[laurenkmyers]

winteam bathroom coda (ep7)

just a short, unbeta’d continuation of the bathroom scene with a little added smut, enjoy.

***

As soon as the door slams shut Win’s hands are everywhere, all at once, stroking Team’s face, pulling his hair, gripping his shoulders, his waist, his ass.

Team is overwhelmed, like he always is whenever Win’s mouth starts devouring his. All thoughts of anything fly straight out of Team’s head, taken blissfully over by the feel of Win’s body against his.

Team doesn’t know how Win manages to manoeuvre them as gracefully as he does in such a small space, but one minute they’re trapped standing as close as humanly possible in the cramped cubicle, barely room to pant into each other’s mouths, and the next he’s being shoved down onto the closed toilet seat and Win is on his knees between Team’s spread thighs working open his trousers.

“Lift your ass.” Win growls.

Team doesn’t need to be told twice, he immediately arches up off the seat and let’s Win pull down both his underwear and his trousers until they’re both stretched taut around his ankles. Win looks up at him and his eyes are blown black, no sign of colour left behind. It sends a shiver down Team’s spine.

Win leans in and starts sucking hot, wet kisses along Team’s trembling inner thigh, climbing higher and higher until he gets closer to where Team really wants him. He’s already painfully hard, aching and desperate when Win wraps his hand around him and starts pumping as he sucks a bruise into the crease where his thigh meets the rest of him. The rest of the bruises Win left a week or so ago have already faded and Team smiles as he imagines pressing down on this new one to feel it burn.

He quickly becomes impatient, “Hia,” he whines, “…please.”

Win’s hand stops its slow pumping motion, and his mouth disengages from its chosen path. Team whines again because this is not what he wanted at all.

“What do you want, Team?” Win croons against his thigh, “Tell me.”

Win’s commanding tone always makes Team’s insides squirm in the best way.

Team is shaking now, so turned on he can barely produce anything other than another elongated, “Hia…”

Win chuckles darkly, softly nipping at the tender skin in response.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He says. “I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me what it is.”

Team huffs out a low groan, and takes a handful of Win’s hair, pushing him to where he needs him.

“I need your mouth.” He eventually manages to croak out.

Luckily for Team, Win is already ten steps ahead, wet lips slide all the way down his cock until he hits the back of Win’s throat. Team chokes out a moan and holds on for dear life pulling out the hair tie keeping Win’s hair out of his face, not that it matters much, with the iron-clad grip Team currently has on said hair. The tie is redundant now anyway.

 ***

Win holds Team at the back of his throat for longer than is strictly necessary for breathing and then pulls off panting, a string of saliva still attaching his swollen pink lips to the glistening head of Team’s cock as he looks up at Team’s blissed out face.

Win smiles crookedly, licking his lips and bending back down to tease the tip with his tongue, swirling it around the head before dipping into the slit for a taste. He feels the already strong grip on his hair tighten to the point of painful as he slides the rest of the way back down Team’s impressive cock. He hums as the weight of it once again hits the back of his throat, and he feels the vibrations travel through Team’s body in a shudder, resulting in his boy making harsh thrusts in and out of his mouth. Thank god he perfected the art of deep-throating a long time ago otherwise he’d be gagging around Team’s cock right now with how hard he’s pushing to get further inside.

Win loves going down on people. And he’s really fucking good at it. He knows that the most powerful position he can be in is between a person’s thighs, knows just the right amount of pressure to use to tip his partner over the edge. And that’s what he wants right now. He wants Team worked up and pliant, wants to make him come, to clear his mind and feel all the things he’s feeling.

The words from earlier float back into his head as he concentrates on bobbing his head up and down Team’s slick cock, ‘if you’re not sure, then prove it…’ Win hums into the upwards motion in agreement, I’ll prove it, he thinks. ‘If you like him, then tell him…’ Win swirls his tongue along the underside which earns him a sweet moan from his sweet boy, ‘if you love him, then tell him…’, Win pulls back slowly with a soft pop and lavishes the tip of Team’s cock with soft kitten licks to show his affection.

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

Okay, so Win’s never really been great with words about his feelings, always preferring to use actions to show a person how much he cares and he’ll continue to show Team he means it by doing just that.

He starts with a mind-blowing orgasm.

Because that’s something he can do.  

Because that means he doesn’t have to think too hard about the rest of it.

[ask-the-attorneys]

*After a bit of reluctance, Themis gets up from her seat, goes up to the stand, and reads the confession of Hercule Curieux.*

Themis: “It was quite immaterial. I take the sleeping tablets and have acquired a certain tolerance. The dose that would send Crowe to sleep would have little effect on me. With the greatest of difficulty, I put him in my wheelchair, then, when the coast was clear, I wheeled him to his room. You will not have realized, Themis, that recently I have taken to wearing a false mustache. Even Sonia does not know that. I put on the dressing gown of Crowe, tapped on your door, then went into his bathroom. Presently, I heard you open your door. I left the bathroom and returned into the room of Crowe, locking the door behind me. I lay him on his bed. I had a pistol, which on two occasions I had placed ostentatiously on the dressing table of Crowe when he was out, so that he would have seen it. I put the key into the pocket of his dressing gown and locked the door from the outside with a duplicate I had made, then returned to my room and began writing this. I played the game, as you English say. I gave to you the clues and every chance to discover the truth, pointing you towards Mr.X, Silas Crowe himself. My only weakness was to shoot him in the center of his forehead and not in his temple, but I could not bring myself to produce an effect so lopsided. That, mon ami, is my nature, and should have told to you the truth.”

“Take my advice for the last time. Tell to Mademoiselle DeCrescendo all that I have said, that you also might have murdered Crowe , had there been no watchful Curieux to stop you. Take the nightmare away, and show how Crowe, not Edward, was responsible for the death of her husband.”

“ I have no more to say. Am I justified in what I have done? I do not know. I do not believe that a man should take the law into his own hands... but by taking the life of Crowe, have I not saved others? I have always been so sure, but now...”

“When the moment comes, I will not try to save myself, but humbly offer my soul to God and pray for His mercy. It is for Him to decide. Ah, Themis and Sonia, my dear friends. They were good days. Yes... they have been good days.”

[Sonia]

...

(Hai fatto una cosa orribile per una buona ragione.)

(Mi dispiace che sia finita così......ma il mio obiettivo è trovare la verità, e la verità è ciò che otterranno!)

...Is that evidence enough? Or do you need more than this?

Your honor, are you ready for the verdict...?

[Sonia]

...

(You did a horrible thing for a good reason.)

(I'm sorry it had to end this way......but my goal is to find the truth, and the truth is what they'll get!)

[coddda]

Hiiiiiii. Episode 25/26 lawlight analysis rant thingy here. I don't know how to write an intro for this so let's just get to it LOL

I think one of the reasons that the rain/foot scenes stick out so much (the. Sheer insanity of a Foot Massage Scene in an anime revolving around two guys trying to kill each other aside 💀) is the fact that the anime specifically suffers a bit in terms of adapting a few of the "emotional" moments in death note.

And I don't mean "emotionally impactful" exactly. For example I think the adaptations of scenes like Raye and Naomi's deaths were very impactful and the atmospheres of their final scenes were great, but I mean more from a characterization standpoint (if that makes sense). Being more focused on mind and logic games, Death Note as a whole isn't as invested in individual characters' deeper feelings as it is in its action (which isn't necessarily a criticism per say, it's simply part of the nature of a mystery thriller series). But just because they're fewer and farther between doesn't mean there are none at all. In the manga we do get to see, for example, how much Light actually cared for his family and especially Sayu, and how he actually felt more conflicted and suffered lack of sleep/appetite when he first used the Death Note.

The anime specifically as an adaptation is pretty good at adapting the main mind fuckery and action of Death Note, but its lacking in properly adapting scenes like the ones I mentioned above is a criticism I see somewhat often, and it's pretty fair imo. Compared to all the other adaptations, it certainly seems to fall short on an emotional level: the musical has entire songs going in depth about the characters feelings and relationships, the 2015 jdrama is. Insane and has its emotional moments in spades (because it's a TV drama, which are more focused on portraying emotional conflict and the like), even the 2006 movies has its emotional beats and L Change the WorLd is. Well. Oh Man.

Anime Light to a lot of people is like. Light but he's "already evil" (which I have my own thoughts on but I digress). Light but after using the Death Note for like 2 minutes he's already like "fuck yeah time to kill criminals". Basically the anime doesn't take as much time to delve into his less cynical sides or really delve into his already vague and harder to decipher feelings in general, he is noticeably colder from the get-go here, etc.

But that's part of why I think episode 25 manages to stand out so much tonally (apart from it being, y'know, the episode L literally Dies). I love the episode so much and could probably rant for hours about how much I love the artistic choices made in it but what I'm trying to get at here is that it's one of the very few moments where the show tries to go deeper into specific character's emotions, and one of the very few moments where the show Attempts (emphasis on "attempts" because, well, you'll see in a bit) to get more in-depth into Light's feelings apart from his cynicism/apathy/justice. ness.

L in these two scenes in episode 25 is, well, pretty damn open about how he feels. It's usually interpreted as him knowing that he's going to die, and you can see it. He visibly looks/sounds lost, somber, etc. He never really had much to hide around Light to begin with (since he doesn't really care about hiding himself the same way Light does) but especially not now and it Shows, and I personally thought it was pretty cool to delve into his thoughts/show how he feels this way. The somberness can be felt throughout the entire scene, even people who don't already know the plot of Death Note from the manga could probably tell that he's about to die.

In the manga, once L starts suspecting Misa again and Rem realizes what Light is trying to do, it goes straight to Watari and L's deaths, but the anime instead gives a distinct and unexpected pause in the middle of this where L contemplates his own death. It's fucking great, and the shift from straight action to slower emotional weight makes these scenes stand out a lot, since, like I said, the show usually focuses more on the former. But it's kind of ironic, too.

Not only does the anime open up L's feelings more in these scenes, but it also tries to dig deeper into Light's feelings as well through L. And it's really funny honestly because while, yes, these are the more "emotionally open" scenes of the anime Light still manages to be Incredibly avoidant and contribute almost nothing to the entire ordeal.

L is visibly upset -> "Yeah Ryuzaki, you're not making any sense at all" (Not addressing the obvious conflict from L)

"Tell me, Light. From the moment you were born, has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?" -> "[The most stale, over-explained, avoidant answer to a "yes/no" question that you could ever hear + blatant attempts to reframe the question]"

(L's half-smile here kills me) "I had a feeling you'd say something like that" -> [Nothing]

"I'm sorry" -> [Nothing]

"It'll be lonely won't it? You and I will be parting ways soon" -> [Nothing]

^ From this point Light continues to say literally Nothing for the rest of the scene. I'm not even joking, from then on the rest of Light's voicelines are reduced to nothing but vague noises of confusion.

Everytime L calls Light out as a person ("Has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?" / "I had a feeling you'd say something like that." / "Won't it be lonely?") he doesn't actually acknowledge anything. Out of those three lines, he only answers verbally to if he's ever told the truth, and even then it's the most blatantly people-pleasing answer ever, as it usually is with Light. And I don't think it's because Light just. Doesn't care about any of what L's saying at all, or that he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about (questioning Light's authenticity as a person, saying it would be lonely when they part), instead he's choosing not to acknowledge any of what this means about himself or him and L at all. He's like a fucking wall.

And like, for the truth question in particular, the show makes sure that you know it's not something that Light just. Doesn't care enough about to answer. The hard cuts to silence are a very rare but extremely effective way that the show conveys an extremely important moment (see: Light regaining his memories, Matsuda noticing Light opening the warehouse door before he escapes (not as much of a "direct" cut to silence but still)), and cuts to multiple angles/framings/zooms of the exact same shot are also used for the same purpose (see: Light hugging Misa when she was crying, Matsuda aiming his gun to shoot Light, Light regaining his memories Again). Just like the scene where Light gets his memories back, the moment L's question finishes the show utilizes both. That question cut Deep. There's is a solid Almost 5 seconds of silence before the sound of the rain gradually starts fading back in, and honestly that should be telling enough as is (but of course Light doesn't actually admit that. Or anything at all really, so). Oh also another fun detail! We do not see Light's face At All (except for the shot where you can see his mouth moving but not his eyes), for the Entire time that he's going on his spiel to L. We Will Be Revisiting This Later, by the way. This is not, in fact, the first time you're going to see this detail from Light.

The only sort of reciprocation that we see from Light during Any of these two scenes is when Light dries L's hair while L dries his feet. Biblical meanings/references aside it's interesting because it's the only time he directly does anything "for" L in these scenes, but even then he doesn't try to pass it off as anything meaningful really the same way L does ("You're still soaked", a purely neutral and factual statement. It doesn't Add Anything compared to L's. Sin atonement loneliness grieving stuff. While Light is showing his own reciprocation to this more personal moment he also tries to keep it impersonal enough that it doesn't actually have to mean anything deep). And when L says "I'm sorry" after he once again gets no response from Light. It's also after this that L gets that pained look on his face, like he knows that at this point he's not actually going to get anything meaningful from Light (again, very significant and rare from L in the show. We've seen him in distress (see: when Ukita died, hell, when Watari dies), but even then he mostly manages to keep his usually neutral expression), we never see him "look sad" like he does here):

I just think it's interesting that this is one of the few scenes in this particular adaptation of Death Note where they try to open up the character's thoughts/feeling (especially considering the fact that they. lowkey blunder in adaptations of original scenes from the manga), and L himself is being rather open (not that he ever really tries to hide what he thinks nearly as much as Light), and yet all Light contributes to it in return is like. Actually nothing. Bro fumbled it. There is no resolution to any of this, to any of what L asks at all, to any of the many opportunities for a meaningful conversation, and the only thing even relatively close to an answer that you can get from Light is what you can infer from how he acts in the episode after L dies, where he's just going through the motions, but hardly acting as if he's actually living at all.

(Honestly I think the transition from this scene with the taskforce to the subsequent scene with Misa says enough on its own. Light's expressions and tone says everything:)

(Oh sidenote but. This shit again:

"Light, this is our first date in forever. can't you enjoy yourself a little more?" ('Why don't you seem happy? We can finally be together since L is dead') -> No response, Light instead changing the topic to him wanting to move in with Misa without changing his mannerisms at all

Also there's that one detail again. You pretty much don't see Light's expression when he speaks here at all, except for one shot of his eyes, which is quite literally the exact same shot they used when he "saw" L, just altered for the new setting. You have No idea what he looks like when he's responding to Misa, although it's probably fair to assume that it's the same empty stare he has for the whole Two Shots where you can clearly see his whole expression in the entire scene.

Something something Light Yagami bad at feelings I think you get the point though)

I guess Light's Kind of showing what he's feeling now? He'll admit to himself that it's boring without L, but no more than that. Light never actually admits to anything "significant", and L's dead already anyway, so what would that even do?

And then we get, uh. Basically nothing from Light. For the next 5 Years. Except that he joined the NPA, so, uh, yay? Good job, Light you totally nailed it! Thank you for allowing us as an audience to delve deeper into your inner thoughts and feelings as a character so we can find out more about you as a person! Very helpful! Thank you for not sabotaging one of your few dedicated opportunities to look into yourself as a person and reflect on your relationships with others and being 100% honest with yourself! We stay winning guys.

Anyway, this got way too long for a scene that's over a decade old, and I've probably just said everything that everyone else has already said in this fandom before. But unfortunately this has been living in my head for way too long and I must scream. I just think this episode's neat is all :)

tl;dr Part of the reason why the rain/foot scene (tbh episode 25 in General) stands out so much is because the Death Note anime specifically was a bit robbed in terms of its more emotional character moments compared to the other medias, which makes more somber/introspective scenes like the ones in episode 25 stand out a Lot in comparison. But it's also incredibly ironic because it's one of the few moments where the show (or specifically L) tries to look deeper into Light's character, but because he is so avoidant for the entire duration of these two scenes he adds basically nothing at all. It's almost funny. Mostly sad. It's also very gay. Aand post

Okay actually nevermind one more thing I talked about how the jdrama is supposed to be more emotionally in-depth because it is a TV Drama and just for the record, same thing happens there! I could probably do an entire analysis of the Blue Scene in this context like I did with episode 25 but I'd literally be here forever, so uh, just take this iconic line as my main example:

Same Thing. L's statement "I wish we could have met some other way" is personal. It's his own wish, his own regret that he is expressing to Light. While Light's reply obviously has that same regret implied it's also phrased in a specifically impersonal way. It's closed off. "This is the only way we could have met" it closes off the topic and simply renders L's wish as ultimately futile. Light does not say that he Also wishes he could have met L a different way even if it was likely impossible, instead it's a cold statement of cynical fact.

Idk just. Something something L being able and Willing to be more openly sentimental/emotionally open towards Light/about Light vs. Light's inability to be honest with anyone including himself and his own nature preventing any form of meaningful reciprocation. Something something self-sabotage, y'know the drill. God don't even get me Started on how sincere L's tone is when he says "It'll be lonely won't it?"(at least in the eng dub) in the anime I could talk about his tone in that scene for ages. Also yes all of this relates to L Change the WorLd too by the way. Don't ask how it just does okay.

I do think that scenes like these (rain/foot scene, The Blue Scene. Uh. L Change the WorLd The Novel Adaptation) show, at least in those adaptations, that L does genuinely care for Light, and show that he values him as a friend not just in the mindgame-equal sense but also just like, a more sincere sense you know. Idk if that made any sense and that's a whole other topic for another day but you guys just have to believe me on this one alright please please believe me buries head in hands. Okay post over finally thanks for coming to my tedtalk hope you enjoyed my very-unnecessarily long analysis of the week

[hippolotamus]

another installment of what I'm calling the cleopatra series. this time from Eddie's POV because I got in my Buddie feels. part 1 here 💙

late for the love of my life | 7x06 Coda | 912 words | G

“Hey, how was it?” Marisol wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a peck on the lips. 

Eddie barely suppresses the urge to flinch and turn away. Which is maybe a tad dramatic, except for the way it isn’t. Because the past 24 hours have held more than a few revelations. None of which Eddie is ready to share. 

Despite the layers of clothing between them, his skin tingles and crawls where she touches him. If he didn’t have years of experience being exposed to fluids, substances and people he didn’t want anywhere near him, he thinks he would have wrenched away from her by now. No, he definitely would have. But he’s a professional at hiding his personal reactions, both on and off the job. 

Yes, he’s made progress in therapy, but the instincts to hide himself, to put up walls and masks, are still easily activated. Handy for moments like now, when he can’t escape his girlfriend. Or when he has to smile big for the crowd and pretend the perpetual feelings for his best friend don’t exist when said best friend barrels back into the room all lovestruck and covered in soot from his boyfriend. 

“It was good. Really nice, actually.” That much is true. Because it was. Honestly, the whole hospital room chic was perfectly Maddie and Chim. 

“Nice?” She asks in a teasing tone, squeezing tighter and clinging to his torso like a koala. 

His breathing is acceptably even but the urge to peel her off, to tell her that she should probably go home because his heart rate is skyrocketing, his fingers and toes are tingling, and he’s beginning to feel claustrophobic is anything but. His built in panic mode suspects there isn’t enough Jell-o in the universe to undo this. Again, dramatic, but he thinks he’s within his rights to think so right now. 

“Yeah, I-” He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut and inhales as deeply as he can manage. “Y’know, I’m, uh, still feeling a little worse for wear from last night. I should-” He doesn’t even finish the sentence, just points vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. 

Marisol’s relaxed ‘welcome home’ look turns concerned as she furrows her brow and holds the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay? I should probably stay over in case you need–” 

“Really,” he interjects, backing out of her hold, “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off, I think. You should go. Home. To your place.” Smooth, Diaz. “I mean, because I’ll probably be restless, y’know?”

“I can sleep on the cou-”

“No,” he says more forcefully than intended. He should be grateful she wants to stay and take care of him. He should. He is. But not the couch. Not… Buck’s bed. His place. Their place.

“Oh.” She takes a step back and he should probably feel worse about the way she looks so dejected. “I, um, I understand. Talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah, talk tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow when I’ve had a chance to reset. When the twin alcohol and love hangovers have hopefully, finally died off. When I’m not seeing an endless mental projection reel of reminders like Or, y’know, you could have mine. Then why are you in hospital jail? Stay with me, Buck. Him choking on blood. You saved him. Abby. His fiancee is Abby. Showoff. My blood on him. Hey, Buck. You think you’re expendable. They’re all dead. I, uh, misunderstood the assignment. Three minutes and seventeen seconds. She sees me. It was a date. 

The front door clicks in the latch and he immediately turns the deadbolt, noting how his pulse drops to a debatably more normal range. He wants to settle on the couch, under the covers in his bed, both and neither all at the same time. In the end he migrates to the kitchen, which really shouldn’t surprise him. 

He runs his fingers over the backs of the chairs, circling around until he’s standing between the table and main counter. Am I one of the things that makes you sad? So now am I allowed to ask how you are? But you do eventually - you process it? 

Eddie turns toward the fridge, drawn to Shannon’s photo. He plucks it from under the magnet, running his thumb over the glossy print. 

“Can never quite get my timing down, can I?” He huffs out a wet chuckle. “God, I wish you were here right now. I could really use someone to talk to.” 

If it wasn’t after midnight he would probably drive himself to the cemetery to sit on the stone bench. To talk to someone that can’t talk back but would nonetheless tell him what an idiot he is. To unfairly water her grave with tears shed because he always thinks he has more time. You might have noticed I almost died. Again. And then I thought, this is it. This is the last day of my life. We’re all going to die alone. That’s what she said to me and Hen. 

Truthfully he’s not sure who he’s thinking of more — Shannon or Buck — as he slides to the floor, still clutching her picture, beginning to sob and shake as the words I love you so much flash like a neon reminder of his poor timing. Does it really matter? Because either way he’s missed his chance. 

But I guess it’s your mess now. 

Part 3 (Buck's POV)

[minimal-pulse]

LED ZEPPELIN SERIES - “CODA” (1982)

Album concept posters by Minimal-Pulse-Art (minimal-pulse.tumblr.com)

[darkjediqueen]

Talking It Out

Title: Talking It Out Fandom(s): 9-1-1 Relationships: Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Eddie Diaz & Evan Buckley Tags: 7.04 Coda, Fluff Warnings: No Warnings Apply Summary: Buck knows they need to talk it out, it just doesn’t need to happen over the phone. Word Count: 4,742 Author Notes: Be prepared for a lot of Buck/Tommy fics cause I can’t help myself. That kiss was just…I have watched the clip so…

[monprecieuxx]

why is the dorm room sprite moved into yesterday more decorated than his room @ his dad's place which i assume has been his forever

[project-blueflame]

Arc 1: Homecoming Chapter 1: Opening day

Beep beep beep! That was the sound of my alarm going off. 6:45 AM. On the one hand I did not wanna get up. But on the other hand, I had to. It was the first day of high school after all. As I get up and out of my bed, I stretch my arms out and sigh. “Time to make something of yourself, Volare.” I said to… myself. As I finally start to move, I go about my daily routine. First off: clothes. Same usual style: ripped jeans, white T-shirt and a light leather jacket. Then off to the bathroom. Teeth? Brushed. Hair? Slicked back. Face? Washed. Oh hell yeah, I was ready! There was just one last thing I needed to do. I went out to the living room to hug my parents goodbye. The room was… a mess. On the coffee table was a stack of old records next to one of those vintage record players. The couch was draped with too many blankets and pillows to count. Dad was still asleep on one of the chairs from working the night before, but mom was waiting for me. She pulled me into the tightest hug I could possibly imagine. “Good luck today honey! I know you’re gonna do great!” She said in the sweetest voice. I let out a light chuckle.

“Thanks mom. I’ll see you when I get home today!” I said as I let go of her. I then walked outside and grabbed a water bottle in the garage. As I walked outside, I splashed the water in the air. With a movement from my hands the water stopped dead in its tracks. I then began moving my hands, shaping the water in the air. I watched as he flowed around me, its fluid movements matching my own. Finally, the water went to my back. With a few more hand  movements, the water went to my back and morphed its shape into wings.  I took a deep breath as I flapped my wings and took off into the air. Now this was the way to travel. High in the sky, wind going through my hair. I could stay up here for days. But sadly I couldn’t. Because I eyed my destination.  Brollywing High. It was a square building, with people already bustling on the outside. Some were familiar to me. Most… weren’t. Well… that’s not nerve racking at all. With a small sigh to myself, I resigned myself to land.

As I did, who did I find outside the building tune his guitar? A man with hair down to his shoulders. Draped in a white jacket and a torn up tank top. “Baspher! You bastard, where the hell have you been!?” I asked as I pulled him to a hug.

Coda Baspher. My ride or die since day one. As we saw each other, a smirk went to both our faces.

“I’ve been performing! Been all up and down Montana. What about you?” He asked in return. His voice was deep and booming.

“Training. Not gonna let Pyre leave me in the dust.” I said as I began walking to class. I heard him chuckle.

“Yeah? Ain’t that what you’ve been saying for the past… all of middle school?” He asked with a tone akin to mocking. And due to that fact, I lightly punched his shoulder. But… he wasn’t wrong. Pyre and I had been on each other's asses for years. Ok well… it’s mainly been me chasing his ass but the point is still there. But I didn’t wanna think about it too much. Coda and I were walking into that school like we freaking owned it. We knew we didn’t, but damn did it feel good.

This was it. High school. I actually made it.  As I entered the school intending to head straight for my locker. However The entire hallway was filled to the brim with them and I will admit, It was… a bit disorienting. But I slowly got accustomed to it as I made my way down. I noticed the place was practically sprawling with people. Some of them were talking, others were simply just sitting by their lockers. As I passed I waved to everyone I knew. Then there was him. A short candle man with no arms and only one dark as midnight eye in the middle of his flame. He was draped in a green hoodie and blue jeans.

“Hi Wick!” I called out to him, trying my best to sound friendly.

“Oh! Ummm… hi!” He said in a bright but timid voice. “How are you?”

“I’m good… a little nervous for the first day.” I said as I  attempted to unlock my locker. Keyword: attempted. My nerves got the better of me and I missed the combination. I tried again. And bam! My locker opened up and I put my backpack in there.

“Yeah I get that. Well I gotta get going!” He said as he closed his locker. “Bye Volare!” He called out before walking off. I let out a sigh of defeat as he walked away. After Wick was gone Coda walked up to me and patted my shoulder.

“Smooth. Real smooth man.” He whispered to me before receiving another punch to the shoulder. He was snickering again. “You know… homecoming is in a couple weeks. You could ask him to go.”

“Yeah but… he barely knows me. It wouldn’t work.” I resigned. It was just the plain truth. It just wouldn’t work.

“Fine. You’re right. It wouldn’t.” Coda told me before walking off. As he did I could see that cocky smirk.

“Coda… what do you have planned?” I asked, following right behind him.

“Don’t worry about it mate! Go enjoy your first day as a freshie! I gotta get to class.” He said before walking into what I could only assume was his homeroom.