#The Dust Coda

[rockposerdotcom]

The Dust Coda Release New Single & Tribute To Taylor Hawkins 'Come The Night'

After a triumphant performance at the weekend supporting Guns N’ Roses at Hyde Park, The Dust Coda have released their new single ‘Come The Night’. The track is a tribute to the late Taylor Hawkins and is the final instalment ahead of the release of their forthcoming album ‘Loco Paradise‘ this Friday 7th July on Earache Records. Pre-order the album here. Frontman John Drake comments,…

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

March 1st, 1981 - Queen Story!

Buenos Aires, Argentina, Estadio José Amalfitani

'S. America Bites The Dust Tour'

(second night)

At the end of the gig, armed police escort the band out of the stadium

📸 Photo Credit Pablo López Coda

👉 @plopezcoda Instagram

https://www.instagram.com/plopezcoda/

[its-coda]

MY EIJI PLUSH FELL TO THE BACK OF MY BED!! HES DIRTY NOW

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 2nd-8th 2024

We're getting so close to the end of the year!!! I'm already starting to think about the end-of-the-year rec I'm gonna do! :P

Complete

stay a little longer by oceanofchaos/ @islandoforder (S8E8: Wannabes Coda, Pre-Buddie | 2K | General): “Okay, what’s next on the agenda today anyway?” asks Eddie, pulling Buck’s legal pad closer to him to look at the checklist. “Realtor, about to check that off, email the union, oh that’s a good idea, I always forget to talk to them, lunch? Really, you put lunch on the agenda? Sure, fine. Lawyer? What’s lawyer?” Suddenly, it is impossible to look at Eddie. Buck makes a grab for the notepad, and successfully regains it. - Episode tag to 8x08 Wannabes, where Buck thinks they might as well change the will officially, and he and Eddie argue about it

nursing our wounds by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (S8E8: Wannabes, Hotshots Cameo | 2,8K | General): "Eddie, c'mon," cardboard nurse whines, practically draping himself over Eddie's back. "I didn't know they'd make me Nurse Number One." "Oh, I'm sure," Eddie scoffs, stuffing half a doughnut into his mouth at once. Casey likes him. "Hm," he hums and turns to his friend. "Not as good as yours." Cardboard nurse ducks his head and smiles, a pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks. Interesting. (OR: an exec witnesses the buckandeddie phenomenon and sees an opportunity for tv gold)

You wouldn't want it any other way by paleredheadinascifi (S8, Getting Together, Bitchy Eddie | 3K | Teen): “I’m not saying that he’s bitchy because he’s gay, I’m saying he’s bitchy,” Eddie retorts. “Like his soul is bitchy. He just also happens to be gay — it’s unrelated. I don’t think you should go. I don’t like him.” Or, Buck goes on a date with Josh. It's the worst day of Eddie's life.

we won't have a hard time (you can get what you want) by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 3K | Explicit): Eddie rolls his eyes, knocks their shoulders together. “What I’m saying is that you deserve someone who wants the same future you do. You want kids, Buck. You want a family. You deserve someone who would be more than happy to let you break their heart, just to get the chance to be with you.” or: another confession on the couch

supposed to be a package deal by joshwrites/ @joshwritesfics (Post-S8E8: Wannabes Coda, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): “It’s really nice. Though, I really should get a new couch,” Eddie agrees before looking down and starting to pat the couch they’re sitting on — the one that holds far too many memories for Buck to count. “A new couch?” “Yeah, I don’t want to go through the hassle of moving this. I was planning on putting it up for sale on Facebook, but I was thinking maybe you wanted it? No offense, but your couch is uncomfortable as hell.” And it’s an innocent comment — one with no underlying meaning under it — but it sends Buck on a spiral to find one anyway. or: A 8x08 coda where Buck believes in couch theory.

you could poison poison by oceanofchaos/@islandoforder (S8E5: Masks Coda, Infidelity | 4K | General): There is a constant tension headache behind his eyes that’s been there for as long as he can remember, and it gets worse every single time someone who isn’t Maddie calls him ‘Evan’. - Episode tag to 8x05 Masks, in which Buck is exceedingly aware that he is increasingly annoyed by his boyfriend.

pulling pigtails by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (S7E4: Buck Bothered and Bewildered | 5K | General): Buck is jealous. Buck is a green-eyed monster, a jilted lover, a crying kid who didn’t get a lollipop. Buck can’t even find it in him to push it down because it’s overwhelming. Eddie and Tommy are friends. That’s – fine! It’s totally fine. or: buck is jealous, and 7x04 goes a little differently

🔥I should be pushing daisies by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 5K | Teen): “I miss you so much, man,” Eddie says as easy as anything. Like those words don’t have the power to breathe life back into Buck’s body and steal that breath back at the same time. “It’s dumb but - I guess I didn’t realize how ingrained you are in my life until suddenly you weren’t there.” “I-I miss you too,” Buck manages to say, though he has no idea if he sounds normal or if he sounds like there’s an anvil on his chest. Eddie smiles at him, eyes soft and fond even on Buck’s iPad screen. “I keep looking over my shoulder to say something to you or to see if you saw something dumb someone did too, but you’re not there.” OR Eddie goes to Texas to fix things with Chris and Buck pines.

slowly sinking (i need you to think i'm alright) by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Established Buddie, BDSM, Hurt/Comfort): Some of his hook-ups liked that Buck was so much bigger than them, even though he wasn’t nearly as bulked up as he is now back when he was having casual sex. They liked when Buck held them down, when Buck reused some phrases he remembers from porn. It was all for fun. Buck never had one of them staring up at him like Eddie is now, like he’s out of his mind. It’s uncharted territory. Buck doesn’t know where to go from here. or: Buck tries to dom Eddie.

black purple and green (i bruise easily) by oceanofchaos/ @islandoforder (S8E6: Confessions Coda | 7K | General): When he gets back to the loft, he looks around it wearily. He had only just reconciled himself to the idea of Tommy moving in, and here he is, alone again in his giant fucking loft. This is so typical. Before he can psych himself out, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, and gets up the 118 groupchat. just so everyone knows, single again. - Episode tag to 8x06 Confessions, in which Buck talks through whether he should have known that first queer relationships are inherently doomed with his queer friends.

man against man (who's ahead in the game) by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (S8, Halloween, Infidelity | 9K | Explicit): But going alone is like—it’s a death knell. And Buck is trying, he really is, but it’s Halloween. You can’t break up with someone on Halloween. He spies Eddie walking up the stairs, totally focused on his phone. Eddie, who is also planless for the weekend barring some natural disaster or miracle of the prodigal son returning home. Eddie, who had gleefully been the Tubbs to Buck’s Crockett—because Buck is totally Crockett, okay?—without complaint. Eddie, who likes dressing up for Halloween. or: Buck wants to do a couples’ costume, and Tommy doesn’t want to do it. Eddie volunteers.

Make this Place your Home series by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Getting Together | 10K | Mature):  Eddie leaves for Texas and Buck has the worst times feeling realization in the history of romance. So he adopts a dog about it And then he gets a phone call.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 13/14 | 54K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

🔥guess i'm the fool by oceanofchaos/@islandoforder (Post-S7, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 106K | Explicit): While Chris is in El Paso, it’s Eddie’s summer of Realizing Things, such as comphet, what Buck means to him, and how to let himself be happy.

WIP

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 141/? | 454K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

there is no road by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie Moves To Texas | 2/6 | 24K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

[buddieism]

wherever you roam (you'll always want me)

buddie | complete | word count: 56.5K | rating: mature

post-7x05 extended coda, relationship study, slow burn, major character injury, grief/mourning, love confessions, angst with a happy ending

Eddie can’t move. Like this, Buck is illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the window; dust motes shimmering around his head, his hair haloed in gold. Beautiful, Eddie thinks. And to his surprise, he doesn’t feel any sort of guilt about doing so. Except—he should. Because Buck is dating Tommy, and he’s happy, and Eddie would rather go to his grave repressed and miserable than ever take away from Buck’s happiness.

read on ao3 here 💌

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 4. The best of all possible worlds

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: smut, wet and messy oral sex (m receiving and regretting it), femdom, sub!Feyd, a bit of cock and ball torture, begging, cumplay, choking, somewhat noncon, BGSM (Bene Gesserit Sado Masochism)

— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine​ @localravenclaw

Humans are born with a susceptibility to that most persistent and debilitating disease of intellect: self-deception. The best of all possible worlds and the worst get their dramatic colouration from it.

— Bene Gesserit Coda

Feyd was breathless. Kneeling before him, as wild and soft as the dust clouds of Arrakis, was a girl with his blood on her lips. She worked his armour off as swiftly as if she herself had worn it and left him naked on the bed while she tugged his boots and trousers off. Her gaze lingered for a moment on his cock, her attention and the cold air of the room kissing its surface. It twitched, yearning for something, straining up toward her with shyness. Her lips curled deliciously before she looked into his eyes again. Feyd swallowed the knot in his throat and moaned.

Her palm travelled up his arm with, deceitfully gentle, caressing the pain that still travelled through it, while her tongue lapped at the wound on his hand. Her eyes, shadowed by dark lashes, looked up into his own, and his heart stuttered. At that moment, he could ask for nothing more from his witch.

He raised a hand to cup her cheek and for a moment felt the way the muscles in her jaw worked as she licked him — an intoxicating feeling — but then she grabbed his wrist and pushed it away from her. It surprised him, angered him, and delighted him… Unlike the other Bene Gesserit he’d met, she did not use her voice to control him, she just used her body. A warrior in her own right.

“Is this your Gom Jabbar,” he giggled between hisses of pain. “Is this your box? That pretty mouth?”

She smiled around his flesh and lifted herself on her knees, slinking up toward him.

“Would you like it to be?”

Feyd looked into her eyes and saw in them everything he wanted to see. All of her attention was on him. Her every breath was breathed for him. He’d never felt more alive than in that moment.

“Yes.”

She smiled and lowered her lips to his chest. Between his legs, he could feel her hands go to her belt, uncoiling it, then heard the soft thud as her dress pooled at her feet. He started breathing faster, excited at the prospect of seeing all of her, but she just pushed him lower, lower on the bed, and crawled above him. Her lips caressed his skin, her tongue teased it, and when she moved her attention to the divot at the centre of his chest he felt her suckle on the drops of sweat there.

“Dirty witch,” he purred.

“Dirty master.”

Feyd let his head lean back and chuckled. She flattened her tongue on his skin, dragging it up to his neck, and lapped against the beating of his pulse.

“Water is precious on Arrakis,” she whispered. “It is life itself.”

He shivered, hands fisting in the sheets with pleasant memories. Each time he took a life in the arena, he took somebody’s soul, consumed it just as surely as his darlings fed on flesh. And here she was, asking to do the same.

“Will you let me take it?” she purred. “Will you let me take your life, your water?”

He grinned a black-mouthed smile as he looked down at her, and found her gaze there, waiting.

“If you can manage,” he said with a cocked brow.

She smiled at him then, an unusual sight — hardly anyone smiled at a Harkonnen — and dipped down to kiss him. Her lips were dry but sweet, and gentler than anything he’d felt before or could remember. He frowned at being treated with such caring — as if she felt something for him. And then her kiss turned to a bite and her teeth sunk in his lower lip.

“Ow,” Feyd giggled, his arms coming up to hold her.

Her hands went gently to his shoulders. From there, they travelled the smooth path of his arms until she caught his wrists and, with unusually firm pressure, she set them right above his head. He felt her body, slick as a snake, settling down on him, her hot and naked skin rubbing against his in a way that made him wince. Her hair, like a curtain, fell down around his face, and for a moment Feyd was lost in the world she made for him. He looked at the shadows that fell around them both, at her smiling face in the centre, and he could easily imagine they were the only people in the universe.

She slinked in that feline way of hers — of all Bene Gesserits perhaps — and brushed her lips against his own on her way down. He reached up for another kiss but was too slow to catch it. Her mouth settled on his clavicle and bit down hard, then she bit and kissed and licked her way down until she reached his heart. It pounded against his ribs, trying to reach toward her. She trembled, her breath tickling his chest, and with a choked little moan, she caught his nipple in her mouth.

Feyd arched his back, groaning, and tried to lift his arms, but she had locked her grip on them in such a way that he found moving impossible. Her teeth closed around his small excited bud. The open kiss of her mouth surrounded the assault, and her tongue was there to lap at the tip of it while her teeth held it still.

“Harder,” he moaned — and she obeyed him. “Ah! Hahaha!” His cheeks hurt from how widely he was smiling. He couldn’t have even answered why. “Harder, witch. My darlings can do better than that.”

She released his arms but he didn’t even have a chance to move them before she slapped his face again. Feyd gasped, his head whipped to the left as pain sang up and down his cheek. She had hit him so hard that his teeth dug into his lip.

“You don’t talk of other women when you are with me,” she said, staring down at him as she straddled his waist. Her hair fell around her figure, veiling not much at all. Above his hardening cock, he could sense the barest hint of her, warm and dripping. “Do you understand?”

“No. Best teach me again,” he grinned. “Ah!”

She slapped him on the other side and let her weight down on him. Feyd didn’t even have a chance to get angry with her because now those soft feminine parts were caressing his cock while his whole face ached. He felt himself getting harder, manhood poking at the soft cleft of her ass. But she straddled him as if he were an object, a pillow she used for her pleasure.

“You’re insufferable,” she hissed, gripping his neck and leaning in. With a rolling of her hips that made him groan, she whispered, “A violent little whore, with a sensitive little cock.”

“Who are you calling little, woman?” he growled.

She chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

Her nails scraped down his skin, leaving painful little welts behind, as she slinked down to her knees. Before Feyd could raise himself on his elbows, she dug her nails into his thigh and, with cloying slowness, her other hand curled around his cock.

Feyd looked down at her between his parted legs, excited to see her face so close to it, her mouth teasingly opened. She licked her lips and looked up into his eyes as her grip tightened, and for a moment she seemed afraid.

Her cheek rested on his other thigh, close to where it met his hip, and she moved her fist higher up his shaft.

“Softer,” Feyd rasped. “Don’t hold it so tight, you —”

“You need a firm grip,” she purred, “my lord na-Baron.”

With lidded eyes, she took in his expanse of body. His strong and hairless thighs, the sweat that gathered at the crux of them, the hint of his round cheeks beneath, and in her grip, her prize.

“You’re blushing,” she chuckled with an innocent smile. “You are so pale, but the tip is turning rosy. So beautiful. So cute...”

He wanted to growl. Nobody referred to him that way, even if it was true, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with her hands all over him. Hot breath tickled at his skin, making him all the more aware of where her attention was focused. She licked her lips as her hand roughly tugged upward. When she reached his head she pressed her thumb against his hole.

Feyd whimpered when he felt his cock weep a little drop for her, and from the way she looked, he almost expected her to kiss it. Her eyes travelled his length while her other hand uncurled its claws from him, leaving little half-moon shapes in pink and red. She brought it below, to where his heavy sac was hanging.

“You’d better not —” he started, but cut himself off with a trembling gasp when she brushed her tongue across his tip.

She looked into his eyes as he held himself up shakily, his arms braced on the bed behind him, but then her lids fell down in something almost serene as she let her lips cover his crown. Her fist held him firmly, too firmly, so hard that the blood couldn’t flow, but he could still feel her. Her mouth was warm and wetter than anything else on that planet, and the curtain of her hair covered almost all of her. Strands stuck to his sweaty thighs. Beneath, her fingers brushed against his sac in a light petting, feeling just the surface of his softest skin. It made his legs tremble. Feyd tried to raise his hips, to push himself into her, but she braced her arms above his thighs and held him down. He groaned, upset, incensed, and petulant.

Her grip went lower, all the way down to his root, pulling his pale skin out of the way. Her lips followed, taking more of him into her mouth. Her soft tongue lapped at the exposed and tender tip, and then she kissed it. One caress of her lips bled into the other as if she couldn’t get enough, and then she started nursing herself on it, suckling the wetness from his cock in a way that felt both careless and needy.

“Is that the water you want?” he rasped with a breathless chuckle. “Hm? That’s what you need?”

She only sucked harder, and her fingers cupped his balls. Feyd dragged in a sharp breath through his teeth as he started feeling himself throbbing. He whined, trying to thrust his hips upward. Whenever he tried, she pressed down against his hips and swallowed more of him, squeezing his length, pressing it against the roof of her mouth in a way that made him surrender. Suddenly, he felt the barest hint of teeth and panicked, but then her fingers caressed his churning sac in such a way that made him want to cry.

It was a remarkable contrast, one worthy of the sunset skies of Giedi Prime. Her mouth suckled harshly on his cock, teeth scraping against his skin while her lips kissed around it and her fist held him tight. Below, her fingers played with his heavily hanging balls, caressing them as if she held in her hand an animal she wanted to tame, and all the while his legs were spread by her body, trapping him in some way, rendering him more exposed than he had felt since… since…

“S-stop,” he muttered.

She didn’t. Her lips pulled away, exposing more of her teeth to the delicate skin of his cock, and with each drag upwards it scraped against him. Feyd cried out in a weak wavering voice that didn’t sound like him at all and his head fell back against his shoulders. He was throbbing so hard his cock was kicking in her mouth, but she moved as if she didn’t notice it. As if she didn’t care. She sucked the taste off him and squeezed the head so roughly he thought she just might rip it off.

“Oh fuck!” Feyd moaned, all the Harkonnen coarseness gone out of his voice to be replaced by a sound of smooth and deeply boyish silk. “Fuck, stop, stop, please…”

She swallowed more of him, drool dripping all around him, and between his legs, her claws started to close dangerously around his balls. The air was filled with sticky sounds and moaning, and the harsh breaths Feyd struggled with.

“I can’t,” he gasped. “I can’t keep going if you —”

With a purr at his sweet pleading, she sunk a little lower until her lips encircled halfway down his cock, and there she held him, still and quiet in her mouth. She scraped her nails against his tender sac, holding the swollen globes in her palm and, with a peaceful sigh, she pulled away from his stomach, holding his member firmly in her mouth as she rested her cheek against his thigh. She looked into his eyes with something of a challenge while she tugged on him with long, hard suckles. Feyd couldn’t help but look back at her lovely face and shudder.

His legs spread wider to accommodate her and across his chest, he felt her fingers trailing up toward his neck until she grasped it. Feyd bit his lip and moaned as she started squeezing harder — around his manhood, around his sac, around his neck to cut his breath off — and he couldn’t hold it anymore.

“That feels… Oh! Y-you’re going to m-make me cum,” he whimpered, his voice sounding low and sad.

His hips thrust upward, his whole body yearning for her, wanting nothing more than to be in her, but she stayed steadily on him as if they were one. Her face rested peacefully against his thigh, lips nursing on his leaking, throbbing cock, and with one more encouraging brush of her nails against his tensing balls she got him to spill into her mouth.

“Aaah! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck —”

Feyd’s whole body trembled, his arms no longer worked, and through the haze of pleasure he felt her hand squeeze even tighter around his throat. He fell back on the bed, head thrashing back and forth, while his balls pushed his seed up the pulsing column of his manhood and straight into her mouth. With a moan at every jet of cum, she pulled it out of him until he was too sensitive and raw and licks of flame replaced the pleasure.

“Stop,” he moaned, “please stop…”

She let go of his throat at first, then she released his sac but kept her fingers there to brush against it, tickling its underside in a way that made his hips jump. Finally, she dragged her mouth off of his cock, all in one long parting suck that ended with a kiss.

With heavy breaths that filled the air around them, Feyd looked down at her — a living storm, a mess. Her cheeks were blushing, her lashes matted with tears, her hair was a damp mess that stuck to her, and her lips… her lips were stained just slightly black. With an imperious stare that suited her, and a little smile, she raised herself on steady arms until she hovered at his stomach, and shamelessly she let his cum spill from her mouth.

“W-what are you —”

She hadn’t swallowed a drop of it. His seed pooled across his stomach, warm from being held so long inside his balls and then inside her mouth, but quickly chilling, stinging where it hit the open scratches. He looked up at her with a hint of anger first, then sadness. Was he not good enough for her?

Silkily, she brushed her hand through the mess she’d just made, painting his own stomach with his cum, and had the nerve to look quite pleased with the result.

“I t-thought… I thought you wanted my w-water,” he stuttered, cocking a brow weakly at her.

She smiled, resting her soft tired head against her shoulder, and played in the mess of cum and sweat upon his tensing stomach.

“I think it looks better on you,” she said, “my lord na-Baron.”

[reyesstrand]

wip wednesday

thank youuu for the tags @ironheartwriter @henrygrass @whatsintheboxmh @strandnreyes @paperstorm @theghostofashton @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @everlastingday @carlos-in-glasses <3 a little something from my 5x09 coda!

“I kept asking for you.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, as his husband collects his thoughts. He hears TK’s soft intake of breath, and it washes over him like the gentlest song; like a soothing balm. “When?”

“When I was coming to after—” Carlos hesitates, not wanting to remind TK yet again about his reason behind being holed up in this hospital bed. TK makes another small noise. He blinks and he’s suddenly there again, on his back on the rough terrain, dust and flies kicking up at him and making his skin itch. “The medics told me I kept saying your name. Except they didn’t know that TK was a person ‘til Sam woke up, explained I was asking for my husband. Who was going to be pissed.”

“He was right,” TK says, and Carlos huffs a soft laugh. It pulls at his side, but it’s worth it. “But you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Carlos confirms, even if it feels impossible. He amends, “I’m breathing. I’m all stitched up.”

TK knows him, down to his marrow. He may no longer be bleeding but there’s a chasm deep in his chest that’ll never be sealed up. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m gonna bring you home.”

no pressure tagging @butchreyes @freneticfloetry @pelorsdyke @nancys-braids @captain-gillian @liminalmemories21 @tellmegoodbye @emsprovisions @rmd-writes @welcometololaland & open tag!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Autistic Spencer Reid

Happy Autism Acceptance Month, everyone! By request, my wonderful friends and I have taken on the daunting task of documenting the reasons why Spencer Reid is considered Autistic. Big thank you to you @spencer-reids-adventures and @foxy-eva specifically for their help. We hope everyone enjoys! This is not an exhaustive list.

Stimming/Self-Stimulatory behavior, including rocking/spinning in his chair, twiddling with his fingers, gripping sheets, bouncing his legs, biting his lip/tongue, rubbing his eyes, spinning pens, pacing (e.g., S6E12 "Corazon")

Averse to touch, dislikes hugs (S7E13 "Snake Eyes" & S11E11 "Entropy")

Explains multiple attempts at masking, including "being more conversational," (S2E19 "Ashes and Dust"), scripting conversation (S15E4 "Saturdays"), saying what people want to hear (S6E20 "Hanley Waters")

Verbosity - Difficulty recognizing when he's talking too much/speaking at inappropriate times (e.g., S1E16 "The Tribe" & S10E16 "Lockdown")

Began studying behavioral science to understand behavior that made him frustrated/confused (S11E22 "The Storm")

Averse to hosting/hanging out in his space; didn't invite his friends to his apartment for over 15 years (S15E9 "Face Off")

The only team member capable of proficient communication with other Autistic people (S6E16 "Coda" & S11E22 "The Storm")

He is referred to as Autistic by multiple characters, including a literal profiler, and does not deny or question it (S1E5 "Broken Mirror" & S8E3 "Through the Looking Glass")

Lack of social awareness, such as focusing on a convention while at a workplace shooter crime scene (S7E3 "Dorado Falls")

Various special interests, like Doctor Who (S6E16 "Coda" & S7E23 "Hit")

Literal thinking, such as focusing on scientific accuracy of a star-based fable (S5E13 "Risky Business")

Difficulty recognizing common phrases, such as the "sitting in a tree" song (S3E14 "Damaged") or jokes (S7E9 "Self-Fulfilling Prophecy" & S1E8 "Natural Born Killer")

Makes inappropriate references, such as to Derek's playboy behavior (S1E18 "Somebody's Watching") and Rossi's age (S7E13 "Snake Eyes")

Coordination/Spatial deficits (S1E17 "A Real Rain" & S8E6 "The Apprenticeship")

Hyperfocuses on a task to the point he doesn't notice his surroundings (S5E20 "A Thousand Words")

Unusual/hyper-specific pedantic language (S3E6 "Remembrance of Things Past")

Resistance to change, manifested as a luddite dislike of technology (S6E7 "Middle Man" & S8E4 "God Complex") and struggling with Gideon's death (S10E14 "Hero Worship")

He receives (apparent disability) accommodations to be in the field (S6E10 "What Happens At Home...")

Introverted, difficulty sharing emotions, even with his closest friends (S10E13 "Nelson's Sparrow")

Heavily bullied as a child (S3E16 "Elephant's Memory")

Difficulty making friends (S2E1 "The Fisher King Part 2")

Trouble with eye contact, which persists throughout the series

His mother is schizophrenic, which has a strong genetic link to Autism

Dislikes small talk (S8E3 “Through the Looking Glass”)

Enjoys memorizing lists (S7E11, “True Genius”)

Savant skills - eidetic memory and hyperlexia

Matthew Gray Gubler has also explained that, regardless of the canonical confirmation, he views and portrayed Spencer Reid as Autistic. Specifically, he stated:

"He's an eccentric genius, with hints of schizophrenia and minor autism, Asperger's syndrome. Reid is 24, 25 years old with three Ph.D.'s and one can't usually achieve that without some form of autism." (Note: Asperger's is an outdated term with Nazi origins, which is now referred to as a part of "Autism Spectrum Disorder" by most countries)

DISCLAIMER: I am Autistic, as diagnosed when I was a toddler. These thoughts are my own and shared for fun. If you disagree, please make your own post about it rather than posting them here. This was a labor of love for fans like me and those who love Autistic people and the characters like us. Thank you for respecting and understanding my boundaries!

Looking for more to read? Check out my Autistic headcanon posts for Penelope and Hotch!

Thank you everyone! 🌈♾️❤️

[diazsdimples]

How can this be wrong?

Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Explicit, 3.8k

A 7x09 coda where Tommy feels insecure about his place in Buck's life after the run in with Gerrard, and Buck fucks him in a supply closet to remind him about it.

“Evan, what’re you doing?” Tommy questions, his tone guarded as he lets Buck pull him through the thinning crowd. Buck guides them into the bowels of the station and stops in front of an insignificant looking door. He takes a quick glance around them before opening the door and pushing Tommy inside. The closet is more spacious than Buck had expected, but still small enough that he and Tommy are pressed close to one another. There are shelves full of ancient cleaning supplies, each bottle covered in a thick film of dust. He’s fairly confident no one’s been in here in years, judging by the state of the floors and the dust motes swirling in the air around them. Perfect. No one will think to look in here, then. Tommy looks around the closet with a vague interest. “Nice place,” he comments as he swipes his finger over a dusty shelf, wrinkling his nose as it comes back filthy. “You come here often?” “What’s going on with you?” Buck asks before he can stop himself, wincing at the bluntness of the question. “You seem… uptight.” Tommy doesn’t meet his eye as he replies. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m fine.” Buck arches an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. The double line of buttons on his dress blues dig into his arm uncomfortably. “You’ve been avoiding me all afternoon. Every time I touch you, you-you act as though I’ve flicked you with acid!” Tommy sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, as though massaging away a headache. Somehow, despite being able to bench press Buck’s weight and then some, Tommy manages to make himself look tiny, shrinking in on himself as he bunches his shoulders up to his ears and clasps his fingers in front of him.

Read the rest on ao3

[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

[rockposerdotcom]

The Dust Coda Release New Single 'Love Sick'

The Dust Coda have released ‘Love Sick’, the latest single to be taken from their forthcoming album ‘Loco Paradise‘, which is coming out July 7th on Earache Records. Pre-order the album here. The new single showcases the softer side of the new album and channels influence from the likes of The Black Crowes and Led Zeppelin. Despite the silkier tones, the track builds to a gospel-esque crescendo…

[freewayshark]

two plus two equals

A 6x13 coda. Mostly word vomit. Enjoy(?)

Buck’s sous chef abandons him as soon as the cookies are done. He takes one look at the meat and vegetables Buck is pulling out to prep, declares that boring cooking, snatches a cookie so warm it droops in his hand and goes to the living room to finish his book for his class’s reading challenge.

Buck doesn’t mind, the cookies were the fun part, after all, and he likes that Christopher is comfortable enough in his space to just go hang out and ignore him. 

So he chops and seasons and sears, and after a while Christopher wanders back over to supervise until he gets bored again and asks if he can watch TV now that he’s finished his book. Buck agrees and pretends he doesn’t see another cookie disappear from the cooling rack.

He’s so focused on not over-cooking the asparagus that he doesn’t notice Eddie’s arrival until he speaks.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” Eddie says, an unmistakably joking tone, but his voice is still as soft as ever. A softness that seems to be reserved only for those in this apartment.

Buck shoots a smile over his shoulder. “Hey. Dinner’s almost done.”

Eddie nods and comes into the kitchen. He glances into the living room where Christopher’s so glued to the television he hadn’t even noticed his father’s arrival. “Oh good, he finished his book,” Eddie says, and it spreads warmth through Buck’s chest that Eddie didn’t even question if Buck just let him watch TV without doing his homework. The trust Eddie has that Buck will just do the right thing for Christopher…It takes Buck’s breath away if he thinks about it for too long.

He turns back to the food, cursing when he sees the asparagus is on the verge of burning. He hears Eddie puttering around behind him while he salvages the vegetables, and then Eddie speaks up again.

“Buck, there are three cookies missing from this rack.”

“Three?” Buck practically squawks, spinning around. He looks at the incriminating third empty spot on the rack, mouth open to defend himself until he looks up at Eddie and his gaze catches on the tiny smear of chocolate on his bottom lip. “Hmm. Might want to wipe your mouth before you go pointing fingers.”

Eddie grins, a bright, beautiful thing, before darting his tongue out to collect the chocolate. Buck turns back to the stove and tells himself the heat on his face is from the pan in front of him.

He opens his mouth to ask Eddie to set the table, but Eddie’s already there, pulling out three of everything. Half the sets, because everything Buck bought came in sets of six. He doesn’t know if that means anything. He feels like it should. Maybe it just means he needs to rotate the stacks in his cabinets so half the sets aren’t getting all the wear and tear.

He won’t though. Later they’ll wash these dishes together, and he’ll put the three plates on top of the three left in the cabinet, the three glasses in front of the three collecting dust, three forks on top in the drawer. Maybe those three forks will tarnish faster, maybe the color will fade from the plates, maybe a glass will get chipped.

He likes the idea that Eddie and Christopher are so intertwined in his life that they could wear out his dishes. It brings to mind the comfort of sagging blue couch cushions.

He smiles to himself as he plates up their food. If he’s always viewed his life as one big equation, and now he’s good at math, maybe it means the solution is right in front of him.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag @ironheartwriter 🩷

Taking a little break from Poet Fic snippets to share some 1X05 CODA! I wrote this in early 2023(!) but then put it down to focus on other things. Finally, I am dusting off its steel-toed dancing shoes with intention to drop it in Juiy. I love it! I'm excited!

"He really likes you."

"Did he say that?" TK kicks himself for asking this so automatically.

Paul laughs harder. "Seriously. You two."

TK looks over at the club's doorway just as Carlos exits through it, as though he could already sense he'd be there. He could swear he gets these tingling senses about Carlos - although maybe it's not a spiritual thing so much as Carlos being reliable. It's not unusual for Carlos to show up right when TK is thinking about him because TK thinks about him all the time.

Carlos walks over to TK and Paul slowly, as though approaching something that scares him. There’s an already-broken piece of TK's heart that cracks a little more at the edges to see the look on his face.

“Sorry about–”

👀👀👀 What happened in the club?! 👀👀👀

Open tag and tags below!

@lemonlyman-dotcom @heartstringsduet @paperstorm @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@three-drink-amy @tellmegoodbye @liminalmemories21 @theghostofashton

@chicgeekgirl89 @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @goodways

@bonheur-cafe @ladytessa74 @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@herefortarlos @eclectic-sassycoweyes @emsprovisions

@kiwichaeng @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @strandnreyes

@reyesstrand @lightningboltreader @sapphic--kiwi

@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @nancys-braids @captain-gillian

@literateowl @safeaswrites @carlos-tk @orchidscript

@sugdenlovesdingle @honeybee-taskforce @freneticfloetry @whatsintheboxmh

@alrightbuckaroo @never-blooms - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[johannesviii]

Hi, I've been using your EDAs recommendations to guide my reading, and I'm currently really enjoying Unnatural History, and I was wondering if you have either a rec list or a "skip list" for the next series story arc so I can avoid any really bad books that aren't necessary to read? No worries if not though! Thanks!

Ok so there's two ways to look at the arc you're currently reading. The first one is that it stops at Interference part 2. The second one is that it stops at The Ancestor Cell.

Now, regardless of that: the list.

Autumn Mist: Skippable. Also, pretty bad. The only important information here is that Sam wants to go home.

Interference (Book One): Not skippable. Good, but the second half is even better.

Interference (Book Two): Not skippable. Very good and I think the coda on Dust is even better than the main plot.

The Blue Angel: Technically skippable, but if you skip it, you miss what's possibly the most insanely meta book in the entire series. Some people hate it. I love it. I'd say read it just to decide which side you're on

The Taking Of Planet Five: Not skippable, and also, pretty good.

Frontier Worlds: Skippable. Very, very meh.

Parallel 59: Debatable...? Technically skippable and meh but I'm gonna say don't skip it

The Shadows of Avalon: Not skippable in the slightest

The Fall of Yquatine: Not skippable in the slightest either I'm afraid

Coldheart: Skippable. But I like it. But still skippable

The Space Age: Entirely skippable. We're talking about one of the most boring books in the entire range. Devoid. Devoid of anything.

The Banquo Legacy: Debatable. I'm gonna go with skippable. I'm not fond of this book but I know some fans love it so I feel like it's an important thing to mention. And it's a murder mystery, if you're into that

The Ancestor Cell: Not skippable. It's a giant mess, but definitely one you can't skip

[buddieism]

wherever you roam (you'll always want me)

buddie | chapter 3/4 | word count: 39,116 | rating: mature

post-7x05 extended coda, relationship study, catholic guilt, slow burn, first kiss, emotional infidelity, codependency, it gets Worse before it gets better...

Eddie can’t move. Like this, Buck is illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the window; dust motes shimmering around his head, his hair haloed in gold. Beautiful, Eddie thinks. And to his surprise, he doesn’t feel any sort of guilt about doing so. Except — he should. Because Buck is dating Tommy, and he’s happy, and Eddie would rather go to his grave repressed and miserable than ever take away from Buck’s happiness.

read on ao3 here 💌

[iftheshoef1tz]

Coda, part one

Note: This is for @azrisweek 2024, day 5: slice of life. it is an epilogue to the epilogue, if you will, of another, much longer work i just finished, what hath night to do with sleep. you don’t have to read that to read this, but…it would certainly explain things! no warnings, though there are mild spoilers. Thanks to @yanny-77 for beta reading this with such a quick turnaround.

From the air, the world is small. Manageable. Roads become long, twisting black ribbons; the trees and their sighing leaves turn into an unending green sea. The earth and all her problems – all her insistence on dust to dust, ash to ash – is far out of reach.

Azriel banks, and a strong gust tosses him sideways.

It’s far too late in the winter to be flying this high. He had learned the hard way during that first confusing winter that to fly in August is to be threatened with sudden and unexpected grounding when the pampero winds race over the mountains.

Six months have passed since they returned home from Germany. When he closes his eyes, he can see the slight, pale thing that is Nesta Archeron, glowing contentedly in his home on Irkalla.

It doesn’t soothe the ache that had chased him up here.

Humanity is still a tangled, nearly unfathomable thing to him. He’s far more used to Rolvaath’s lolling, sardonic tongue than to the lines around a human’s eyes when they smile. He will never be able to read emotions on these strange faces, with their body language that conceals more often than it reveals.

Except Eris.

The tilt of his head, the sweep of his hands, the heft and speed of his breathing – Azriel has spent the past four decades learning what they all mean. His effort makes Eris look at him like he’s some strange, wondrous thing, something worthy of the youthful skin and laughing eyes while everyone around him dims and dies.

Sometimes, Azriel can see that other Eris, the one he would have been had he never summoned a demon. It follows after him like a shadow, just slightly out of sync. He has neatly trimmed fingernails and pure white hair. There is a wicked light to his eyes despite a slight stoop.

Beneath Azriel, the earth grows large again, all her misery and tenderness opening their arms to him as he circles down through the air.

Eris glances up from their balcony. His hair whips into his eyes, but not before Azriel sees the way they light up when Eris sees him. That older Eris stands just off-center. Azriel wishes he could kiss them both.

He unfurls from his crow form and pushes his fingers into the wind-strewn mess of Eris’s hair. That little piece of Beron glitters angrily when Eris kisses him.

“I want to leave,” Eris says against his mouth. “I want to go home.”

Azriel kisses the skin just in front of Eris’s ear. “We are home.”

“You know what I mean.”

And he does – a place with Nesta and Elisabeth, rooted in memory. “Rolvaath won’t like it.”

Eris makes a disgusted noise. “He never likes anything I do. What’s one more thing? Besides, it’s much cheaper to call international than it used to be.”

Azriel knows he should stand up for his fellow demon, but a larger part of him is…proud, that’s what a human might call it. Rolvaath had never specified that Eris and Azriel had to remain in Paraguay, after all, simply that he collect stories from all the old Nazis before their souls were out of reach.

The wind picks up even more, and rain scatters across their skin. “Alright,” Azriel says and kisses Eris once more.