#first time coda

[wildlife4life]

Trying out this coda thing for the first time….

“Where do you go?” Maddie ask, pushing the reminants of lunch around her plate.

Buck looks up at her in confusion, “Where do I go when?”

His sister doesn’t meet his eye, “Where do you run off to when,” she pauses and Buck can see her trying to find the words that won’t hurt either of them. “When you want to get away from telling everyone you’re fine?”

His grip tightens on his fork, hating that his sister and maybe every person she has sent to his door is seeing through his lies. He also hates that he’s going to lie to her again.

Buck isn’t going to tell her where he’s going because it meant losing the one place he has left to not be fine, his one last place of comfort. The one last place he feels safe.

The moment he tells Maddie about going to Eddie’s, he’ll lose it to the intrusion of overbearing worry. To the sad gazes and pitiful looks. To the constant reminders that he died.

Yea, Eddie worries too and yes he brought up the fact that for a whole three minutes the candle of Buck’s life was diminished. But Eddie didn’t push, he waited for Buck to come to him first. He asked what Buck wanted instead of taking all choices away. Eddie let’s Buck be not fine without the lies and underlying pity.

“Maddie…” Buck sighs.

Finally his sister looks at him, her brown eyes filling up with tears. Buck has to swallow his own down, and fight the urge to give in to her inquiry. “I-I just don’t want you drifting away somewhere alone. And I’m not trying to know your every move okay? But you’re leaving a place with people who love you and want to be there for you, to go what? Be alone, prove that your fine?”

“Maddie I promise you I’m trying my best not to drift away. And I know I am loved and I appreciate how much everyone wants to be there for me. But at times it just gets to be too much.” Buck drops his fork and wipes a his hand across face, trying to keep the tears at bay, “I’m not trying to prove anything. And I’m not alone. Okay? Where I’m going I’m not alone.”

Maddie bites her lower lip then reaches over to take his hand in her much smaller one, “i just want to be there for you. We all do.”

And Buck gets that, better than anyone. It’s one of the reasons why he was driven crazy after Maddie ran away, why he kept her secrets from Chimney. Maddie knows him, knows about her little brothers deep need to be taken care of when he’s hurting.

But her way of doing it, worked for the younger Buck. It worked for Evan, the child she raised. Now he doesn’t need the constant attention and soft words and having simple tasks done for him without even asking.

What Buck needs is a steady presence that steps in when he’s ready, to be told the harsh reality, to be able to wash his own damn dishes and given a choice of what he wants.

And that’s Eddie.

The same Eddie who last year made him realize that there parts of Maddie that only Chimney understands and know. That Bucks help isn’t what Maddie needs, but what Chimney could give her instead.

Buck needs what only Eddie can offer and Maddie doesn’t really know that part of her brother. And that’s okay.

“Maddie there are parts of me that only this place can help heal. And telling you will take that away. You don’t know all of me, understand everything about me. But this place does. Just like Chimney knows a Maddie I will never know, there is a Buck you will never know.”

Deep down, very deep down Buck comprehends that he is comparing Chimney’s love for his sister to what he and Eddie share. But it’s buried under too much trauma and hurt to really see and admit at the moment.

Maddie gives his hand a squeeze and takes a deep breath, “okay.” She relents, “okay. You don’t have to tell me. Just promise me you’re safe and taken care of.”

Buck gives her a very soft smile, his mind drifting to a soft blue couch, silly nicknames, and patient understanding, “I’m in the safest place with the care I need.”

He thinks of Eddie and the feeling of dread shrinks just a little more.

[burnthatbridge]

8x01 misery missing scene

post the sad zoom birthday party also on ao3 if you prefer

They stick around long enough to help clear up. 

The party decorations come down faster than they went up. Each balloon that Buck pops is a perfect mirror to the ball of excitement in his chest that had shattered at Chris’ lacklustre response, at the stuttering video connection. Except, instead of slippery, soft rubber, the shards it left behind are hard, cutting glass. 

“The cake was excellent,” Tommy offers, with forced cheer, into the silence that descends once the sound of balloons bursting and streamers rustling stops. 

“Take the rest with you,” Eddie says, turning away, heading into the kitchen.

Buck follows him, Tommy close behind, and watches Eddie shove the happy birthday banner into the trash, the party hats too. Buck bites his lip on the protest that Eddie should keep them for next year — he doesn’t think he can bear to hear Eddie voice the fear that they might have as little use for them then as they did today. 

“You’re serious about the cake?” Tommy asks, crossing to where it sits on the kitchen table, one solitary slice consumed. Buck had a bite of Tommy’s, and it was good, but he didn’t feel like having his own. And Eddie hadn’t seemed up to stomaching any at all. 

“Yep,” Eddie nods, without looking over. “I don’t want it.” 

Buck pulls a large tupperware container from the cupboard, hands it over to Tommy, who boxes up the cake. But Buck also takes down a smaller container, saves a single slice, and tucks it away in the fridge. He knows Eddie will crave it later — maybe not tonight, but certainly by tomorrow morning — and will wish he hadn’t given it all away. It will be a nice surprise for him — a much needed one — to find that Buck didn’t let him. 

Buck walks the knife used to cut the cake to the sink and Eddie steps in to wash it. Buck hovers at his side, taskless. They had been going to stick around after surprising Chris, have a couple of beers, watch something, but, with how things went, it’s clear that’s not going to happen. 

“Eddie,” Buck starts, wants to ask if he’s okay — knows he’s not — but Eddie cuts him off. 

“Thanks for coming,” he says, clearly a dismissal, bidding them goodnight without looking up for scrubbing at a knife that must be long clean. 

Tommy replies, “Thank you for inviting us,” even though technically only he was; Buck — never a guest in Eddie’s home — more co-host than attendee, had helped to plan the party, and his presence was assumed, certain. 

At the same time, Buck says, “Of course.” He wouldn’t have been anywhere else today, on Chris’ birthday. Not unless flying to Texas to actually see him would have been an option. Hell, if Eddie had wanted to drive over to El Paso to visit, Buck would have gladly played chauffeur for the whole twelve hour drive. 

Tommy drops a reassuring hand onto the stiff surface that is Eddie’s shoulder, pats it, once, twice, three times, to no noticeable softening. “See you later, man.” He moves to the kitchen door, pauses, looking back at Buck. 

Buck takes a tentative step in Tommy’s direction, says, “See you tomorrow, Eds?” It’s supposed to be a statement, like Tommy’s. A stronger one, even, since Buck and Eddie have a shift together the next day, so their seeing each other should be a concrete occurrence, not a vague likelihood. But the words come out sounding more like a question and he doesn’t follow Tommy out of the room until he sees Eddie nod in answer, agreement. 

They only make it as far as the front door before the gnawing concern in Buck’s gut is too much.  

“Wait,” Buck says as Tommy turns the handle.

Tommy stops, door cracked open an inch, but not opening it any wider, and twists to face Buck, looks at him, expectant. 

“I think–” Buck starts, but he doesn’t quite know what he thinks, only that he shouldn’t be leaving now. Even though there’s nothing left to do: all traces of the party stripped away, their evening plans abandoned. Still, he shouldn’t be leaving. Shouldn’t be leaving Eddie. Not like this.

And he should tell Tommy that, explain it to him. Except… He probably doesn’t need to. Tommy knows him, knows Eddie, and he saw firsthand how things went down tonight. So Buck simply asks, “Can I make my own way? Catch you later?”

“Sure, babe.” Tommy’s expression is full of understanding, eyes soft. He tilts his head, slightly. “I’ll wait up for you?”

Buck nods. “Yeah, please.” He leans in, putting his mouth to Tommy’s mouth, pressing goodbye and gratitude into the kiss. 

Tommy pulls back, graces Buck with a small curling of his lips, the smile dimmer than his usual given how the evening has played out, and then he’s over the threshold, toting the tupperware filled to the brim with uncelebrated birthday cake with him. 

Buck closes the door behind him, gently, then pads back through the house. 

Eddie is in the kitchen, but not quite how Buck left him. He’s still facing away, but now, instead of washing the same spot on the blade of the cake knife over and over, he has his hands braced on the edge of the counter, his head hanging down, like the effort of keeping it up has become too much.

He’s got to know Buck hasn’t left, must hear him reentering the room, a single set of footsteps, but he doesn’t acknowledge him in any way. 

Buck goes to him. Stands at Eddie’s side, tries to see his expression in his dim reflection in the window, but it’s tricky with Eddie’s face lowered. “Eddie,” Buck says and is finally rewarded with Eddie looking up, raising his head so that his eyes meet Buck’s in the window.

The agony in his gaze is palpable.

Buck doesn’t know how to help. He saw how little comfort Eddie took from Tommy’s touch, so it seems pointless to try the same. But his hands itch to hold, to smooth over Eddie and check for points of pain, even though he knows his hurt is of the heart, not body. Knows it, because his own is the same. Buck hurts too: for Chris, for Eddie, for himself. 

“Eddie,” Buck repeats, with no destination in mind except a route out of Eddie’s misery. But, if anything, the anguish displayed plainly on Eddie’s face only deepens. He squeezes his eyes shut and his hands fist, fingers curling in so tight his knuckles whiten. 

“I’m losing him,” Eddie says. 

“You’re not,” Buck answers back, automatic, but no less insistent for it. Eddie isn’t losing Chris. He can’t be losing him. They can’t be losing him. 

“I am,” Eddie pushes back, lifting his hands from the counter to gesture wildly, grief uncontainable. “I’m losing him and it’s all my fault.”

“No.” Buck catches Eddie’s wrists, squeezes them, tries to press his belief, his faith, in Chris and Eddie’s relationship into Eddie’s skin, to transfer it to him. “You made a mistake, but he’s going to forgive you. He just needs a little more time.“

“I don’t think I can take any more time without him,” Eddie confesses, and there are tears shining in his eyes. 

Buck drops his hold on Eddie’s arms, but only so he can wind his own around him, tug him into an embrace.

Eddie lets him, tucks his face into Buck’s neck, chokes out, “I just want him to come home.”

“I know,” Buck murmurs, smoothing one hand down the line of Eddie’s spine, his other arm wrapped firmly round his shoulders. “I know. I do too.”

“He loves his grandparents,” Eddie goes on, voice muffled in Buck’s shirt collar. “He could decide to just stay with them.”

“He loves you,” Buck states, an irrefutable fact. This he knows: he has been privileged to witness so much of the love Christopher has for his dad. “He’s not going to stay with them forever.”

“But,” Eddie protests, sounding lost and unsure, his fingers wound in the fabric of Buck’s shirt, his breath damp against Buck skin, “You love your parents. That doesn’t make them good ones. Ones you’d want to be with if you had a better option.”

“You are nothing like my parents.” Buck squeezes Eddie tighter to him, in tune with the ferocity of his words. “You– you are the best father I have ever seen. You love Chris so, so much. And– and he knows you do, he doesn’t have to doubt it.” Not like Buck did, every day of his life.

He continues, “Your mom and dad are not the better option for him. Sure, he’s having a nice summer with them. But, even if he’s still upset right now, I know he’s missing you too. He’s going to come home, because he belongs here, with you.” Of that Buck is sure. It’s Chris and Eddie: their bond is too deep, their relationship too strong, to be broken. 

“But,” Eddie says again, “But what if he–”

“No,” Buck stops him, not willing to let Eddie hurt himself with his thoughts, his fears, more than he already has. “Chris loves you, Eddie. And he’s going to come home to you. He is.”

Buck doesn’t know if Eddie fully believes him, but his words are enough that Eddie slumps completely against him in something like relief. And all his stress and hurt over being separated from his son comes pouring out.

As he sobs, the spasming of his chest heaving against Buck’s and the trickle of his tears sliding down Buck’s skin, Buck holds him. Holds him and presses his lips to his temple and thinks please, Chris, please come home soon. Come home to us. 

[drowningparty]

I just think the polite, well-behaved young man who secretly enjoys murdering people with his bare hands and gouging their eyes out and the blood-splattered god who delights in carnage and gleefully exploding people with his mind should, hand in unloveable hand, embrace their primal rage, become avatars of the slaughter together, and be deliriously happy for all of 2 seconds before one of them invariably kills the other. and it would be a real coin toss who dies first

[beatsheetromanroy]

it is very important to me that dean and cas were NOT sleeping together during gamble and carver eras. S4-5 crazy new chemistry i dont know you/ i’m in awe of you/ i’m terrified of you/ i hate you/i wonder why i want to spend time with you so badly backseat handjobs yes! then 6-10 it’s crickets. no sexual contact whatsoever (which doesn’t mean there’s no pining or attraction.) there’s just too much going on, one problem to solve after another, the new butterflies have been replaced by solid friendship and they never see each other enough. they don’t talk about it, they wonder if the other even remembers. maybe. maybe! there is a kiss or two in s11 but that’s it!!! then BAM! season 12. Immediately domestic boyfriendhusbands keeping a normal sex schedule of several times a week. it’s so routine it’s not exciting which is exciting in and of itself. and they even have sides of the bed.

[kelbunny]

Denam speaking to most people vs Denam speaking to Catiua.

Love these siblings

[hidey-writes]

wip wednesday

There’s a quiet murmur of sound in the room, movement and conversation. Gu Yiran waits, lets it wash over him until he can make sense of it. Two people speaking in low voices, the occasional lilt into a question before the sound dips back down into [murmuring]. Ding Guozhu, and Zhang Xiaoguang. The quiet metal sound of a thermos opening, and Ding Guozhu’s voice cuts out for a moment.  Zheng Bei’s voice isn’t there.  Neither is Yaoyao’s, Gu Yiran reminds himself.   It’s only that — The last thing Gu Yiran remembers, concretely, with any certainty, is Zheng Bei. The look on Zheng Bei’s face, bursting in through the door, the way his expression changed when he saw Gu Yiran, something almost frantic in his eyes. The very last thing Gu Yiran remembers is the shape of Gu Yiran’s name in Zheng Bei’s mouth — not Gu-laoshi, for once, but Gu Yiran. To Gu Yiran’s right, the door to the hospital room unlatches.  Ding Guozhu and Zhang Xiaoguang’s conversation quiets as the door swings open. First, Yaoyao’s voice, “I bet you’re all starving! Lao Jiu—” and then footsteps coming toward Gu Yiran’s hospital bed, too light and quick to be Zheng Bei’s. There’s a hurried shushing from the corner. The door closes too fast to admit a second person.  Gu Yiran’s eyes are already open. He’s already disappointed.

from the third draft! hopefully the penultimate draft - at least the one scene i have drafted feels like it's only about a draft worth of revision from being done, so i'm optimistic. i'm trying a new thing where i am simultaneously constructing the "outline" / very chaotic list of events by scene for the third draft while also starting to write it. i think i'm liking it so far.

[hideyseek]

OH BOY GUYS. OH BOY. MY THE FIRST SHOT MUTUALS ... OH BOY. the coda fic is going to be ...............probably actually fucking good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[femme-foucault]

Alright "final" Oscar nom predictions:

The Oscar nominations were supposed to come out on the 17th but were pushed back due to the wildfires, so now they are out on the 23rd. I know the main story on Film Internet right now is the AI controversy with The Brutalist, but since that story didn't break until after voting ended, I don't see that controversy hurting nominations for that film. It might affect wins, but it depends. So I'm keeping it in my predictions for now.

As usual, my predictions are in alphabetical order, not by personal preference.

Best Picture: Anora, The Brutalist, A Complete Unknown, Conclave, Dune Pt 2, Emilia Perez, A Real Pain, Sing Sing, The Substance, Wicked

Yes, I'm still hope-dicting Sing Sing. The BAFTA noms gave me some hope. Let me be delusional. It could very well be Nickel Boys instead of Sing Sing.

Director: Jacques Audiard (Emilia Perez), Sean Baker (Anora), Edward Berger (Conclave) Brady Corbet (The Brutalist), Coralie Fargeat (The Substance)

Ugh, I caved and predicted Audiard even though I'm not happy about it. I would love to see Villeneuve (Dune Pt 2) get in here but I highly doubt it. I know Fargeat is a stretch but they are going to want a woman in there because of all the pushback in the past few years and Fargeat has been nominated at a number of pre-cursors.

Best Actress in a Lead Role: Cynthia Erivo (Wicked), Karla Sofia Gascon (Emilia Perez), Mikey Madison (Anora), Demi Moore (The Substance)....and someone else idk.

No idea who that fifth slot is, but I highly doubt it's Angelina Jolie (Maria) anymore and I've taken Nicole Kidman out of my predictions too because her movie (Babygirl) has not been nominated as much as people thought it would be just a month ago. In that climate, I do think Erivo is getting in for Wicked -- she won't win, but with Jolie and Kidman out I'd be surprised if she wasn't nominated. After the Globes, maybe Fernanda Torres (I'm Still Here)?

Best Actor in a Lead Role: Adrien Brody (The Brutalist), Timothee Chalamet (A Complete Unknown), Daniel Craig (Queer), Colman Domingo (Sing Sing), Ralph Fiennes (Conclave)

Craig is the one I am weakest on but we'll see.

Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Jamie Lee Curtis (The Last Showgirl), Ariana Grande (Wicked), Felicity Jones (The Brutalist), Isabella Rossellini (Conclave), Zoe Saldana (Emilia Perez)

Honestly, Saldana and Grande are the only ones I am 100% sure of. It's a two-woman race there, but anyone else could be nominated. Now I have finally seen The Brutalist, I think Jones is this year's Emily Blunt -- the "tag along" nomination that accompanies two competitive acting performances in a best picture front runner (even though The Brutalist is much more divisive than Oppenheimer and I think a weaker movie (I was with it right up until the last 20 minutes, which I wasn't a fan of)). Selena Gomez might get in for EP if that movie over-performs even though she was terrible in that movie but being terrible has never stopped them from nominating someone before.

Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Yura Borisov (Anora), Kieran Culkin (A Real Pain), Edward Norton (A Complete Unknown), Guy Pearce (The Brutalist), Jeremy Strong (The Apprentice)

I put Borisov in because he keeps being nominated at precursors, though if anyone misses, it's him, not Pearce -- even though Pearce didn't get nominated at SAG. I have fiiiiiinally taken out Clarence Maclin even though he gave my favorite male supporting role of the year because Sing Sing is not getting the love it deserves :(

Adapted Screenplay: A Complete Unknown, Conclave, Dune Pt 2, Emilia Perez, Sing Sing

I am going on a limb and guessing Dune Pt 2, even though I don't think the first one got in. I think Conclave wins here.

Original Screenplay: Anora, A Real Pain, The Substance....Idk what else, but Anora is probably winning. Especially because it looks like Emilia Perez might be winning Best Picture noooooooooooo so I could see it being like last year, where the two screenplay awards go to movies that weren't winning anything else that they wanted to award.

No real guesses for all the techies because there is always a few tech categories in something that I haven't seen. I think Dune Pt 2 is going to be nominated in many tech categories, but I still think Wicked is probably winning Costume and Production Design (though pre-AI controversy, I could have seen The Brutalist taking the latter) unless Emilia Perez just really over-performs.

[zoennes]

♪ 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 '𝑒𝑚 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒, 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 ♪

[its-coda]

Thinking abt annihilation route hours…

[cake-bread]

Imso curious as to where the name “Coda” comes from

Is that his actual name or a nickname? If it’s a nickname, where did it come from?

I know his real name but I won't mention it per his request. It's probably music related.

Coda's thoughts:

Yeah.

[stories-that-feed-our-souls]

Hey, I have a question to all CODAs out there (or maybe people who knows someone who has deaf parents) who are watching ✨️🍉... when you're talking to hearing people don't you also sign? Maybe not all the time but sometimes unconsciously?

I just think it's curious how Eungyeol speaks when he signs with his family but never signs when he talks with other people

[sateurn]

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

These sobs really limited my tags?????

I have so many more thoughts this is so so much less than 1/2. Broski. Big dislike

[ask-the-attorneys]

*It’s the things coda has experienced from killer queen, except for one part, and that was its final ability, Bites the dust. This bomb appears as a miniaturized form of Killer Queen that hides inside whoever it is planted in; it acts independently of Kira's will, manifesting only when the bomb is triggered. When planted in a person, it activates when Kira's identity is revealed audibly or through writing,as well as when other Stand users see the miniature Killer Queen. When this happens, a miniature Killer Queen enters the eye of the person and causes an explosion, killing them. The bomb can detonate multiple people simultaneously. After killing someone with its power, Bites the Dust creates a temporal loop, "blowing up" time to roughly one hour prior to the detonation. Because Bites the Dust is completely independent and autonomous, Kira is not aware of who is killed by it, nor is he directly aware of whether a time loop has taken place. In fact, the only person who retains the memory of each time loop is the person harboring Bites the Dust.*

[Coda]

...

(Interesting... so it causes time loops... pretty powerful stuff. And Kira of all people has this power... We're working with live wires here. And it takes out multiple people at a time...)

[ccccatttta]

selectively mute regulus because of trauma. he saw what being loud did to sirius, so he chose to stay silent, not even a whisper at night.

james who's CODA, seeing him talking in sign language with sirius as they get to the train, and going immediately to him to introduce himself, and just starting to ramble endlessly, hands moving as fast as lightning, sometimes even babbling from excitement.

regulus just stares at him, it's the first time someone has been that excited from just meeting him. it's so unfamiliar and an insane contrast from how he gets treated at home. it's endearing, and james doesn't stop, goes from one topic to another and asks a million questions.

it's so endearing and bizarre that regulus let's out a little laugh, and it definitely sounds weird, voice raspy and almost gone from years of not using it, but it's still a whisper of a laugh, barely there but loud enough to hear. something he hasn't done in so long he's surprised he can even manage to remember how to do it.

he stops it immediately.

james thinks it's his life mission to hear it again.

[hidey-writes]

wip wednesday

That’s how Director Gao finds him, staring into space, an empty pipette in front of him on an otherwise empty lab bench, and a sodden, crumpled napkin on the floor at his feet.  “Gu-laoshi?” Director Gao asks, peering into the lab from just outside it. From his tone, it’s impossible to tell what he had or hadn’t seen. Gu Yiran pulls his mask down, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “Director Gao,” he greets, voice carefully even. “Can I help you with anything? Were you going to ask me to double-check any of the lab results?” He glances at the blue folder before he can stop himself.  Director Gao’s face creases into a smile and he comes fully into the lab. “Not at all, Gu-laoshi. I’m fully satisfied with your work on this case, it’s beyond commendable. You’ve done some fine work for us, even going to the length of double-checking your colleagues’ work while you were still in the hospital.” He claps Gu Yiran on the shoulder. “I’m here to talk about you going back to Huazhou.” “Going back,” Gu Yiran repeats. “To Huazhou.” 

presented without comment bc it is 1am to me. thank u for reading, goodnight, etc