I exist in so many fandoms I can't even list them all. Hardcore fanfic reader, and beginner bookbinder cause I want the amazing stories I read to live in my home and on my shelves for years to come!\
27 | She/Her | USA
ps. If I bind a fic you wrote and you want a copy let me know, I am so down to do that cause your work was a gift and I'd love to gift something back. (It may take me a while and be slightly different cause of the materials I have left, but I would love to do it!)
Figured I would put together a gallery of images for all my bind projects and It's gonna be a constant work in progress but I've put this together!
Check It Out Here!
I still have to fill out captions for all the images, and I'm gonna be updating a lot of the pictures to get better lighting but I wanted to share this now cause I'm really proud of how the page is coming out!
It should work on mobile, but I'm still practicing making things cross-screen compatible.
“May I?” Eddie says, grabbing Buck by the shoulder and turning him around. Buck has no idea what the fuck is going on until Eddie grabs the hat off his own head and tosses it onto the bar, grabbing Buck’s gaudy disco ball monstrosity (that he actually loves) and planting it on his own head. Buck freezes - he worked on a ranch in Montana for a while, he is well aware of the cowboy hat rule. He took advantage of it many times with women in bars during his time up north - he’d often take off his own hat and hover it over the woman’s head with a wink and broad smile, waiting for the inevitable blush and returned smile before plopping it down and leading them back to his place.
or
The one where Eddie goes after what he wants (and what he wants is to ride Buck like a cowboy).
Hey I’m a renegade binder and buddie fan, would you be willing to share your buddie typesets for personal use?
Hi! Yeah I'm definitely down to share my typesets. For a while I've been trying to figure out a way share them without making the files fully public. Cause I've seen people typesets get stolen and end up in binds on Etsy, and I would hate for that to happen. I might setup a goggle drive folder that people can request access to.
This amazing Buddie James Bond AU "If I Risk It All (Could You Break My Fall?)" by @princessfbi is a must-read! This is the second fic by them that I have bound. They're so great at building a story!
I tried to model the cover after the format of the old movie posters. The gun barrel was the bane of my existance. I got a looooot of canva practice while extending the lines across the cover and lining up the images for the spine and back.
The chapter headers might be my favorite part lol.
I went for this nice glossy black paper for the end pages, and finished the edges with black foil.
When Buck takes Christopher under his wing during a school trip to the station, he doesn’t expect it to lead him to the love of his life.
Or Buck meets Christopher first.
Evan Buckley adores kids. It’s no secret he looks forward to the weekly school excursions they get at the firehouse. He loves helping as they slide down the fireman’s pole, climbing into the cab with them as they have a go at the siren and securing the hose as they each get a trial blast. It’s a fun-filled two hours. Today, though, Bobby’s decided to throw him a curveball, asking that Buck manage part of the presentation, and while he’s one-hundred per cent comfortable around kids, he’s not that inclined to speak in front of the rest of his crew. His stomach’s a tight ball of nerves as Bobby introduces him, and thirty little sets of eyes wait for him to speak.
Buck’s eyes fall to a mop of blonde curls, as he’s explaining how computer-aided dispatch works. Most of the classes’ focus is on the screen behind him, showing the simulation from call to response, but not this kid. This kid with his adorable glasses and bright smile is hanging off every word Buck is saying, seemingly spellbound.
“Okay, who wants to check out the trucks?”
If Buck’s words and childlike fist pump are enthusiastic, then the cheer he receives back is downright fanatical. It’s chaotic as kids sprint off to start lining up at various stations manned by the rest of the crew.
The kid from earlier is still sitting watching him, and it’s then that he notices the cobalt blue crutches sitting against his chair. A teacher approaches the kid, but Buck waves her away, crouching down to introduce himself.
“Hey, buddy,” Buck greets, grinning as the little boy’s face lights up. “What’s your name?”
“Christopher Diaz,” the kid replies, with a short giggle.
“Well, Christopher, it’s very nice to meet you. My name’s B-”
“Buck,” Christopher supplies, warming Buck’s heart. Someone was listening.
Buck lowers his voice, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, “Don’t tell anyone, but I get to choose the best listener, and take them on a special tour of the fire station, are you up for it?”
“YES!” Christopher agrees delightedly, slapping his hand against Buck’s in a vigorous high five. Buck observes Christopher as he climbs to his feet, steadying himself with the chair as Buck hands the crutches over to him one by one.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“I, uh. Need to tell you something else I want to table for later.” Eddie steps back but keeps one hand on Buck’s waist, eye contact so intense Buck has to force himself not to look away. “After mass with Abuela we got talking about why I haven’t gone back to the church and she said - she told me I’ve been looking for love in the wrong place.”
“Oh,” Buck whispers, breath caught in his throat. His traitorous heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of his chest.
or
The one where Buck steps into Eddie’s mess with him and finds out exactly there they both should have been looking.
Buck's tongue tastes like wet ash. It clings to his matted curls and sweaty forehead and settles sour on his taste buds. His mouth is dry and his throat burns from the smoke.
The fire was out. Boots crunch on smoldering rubble. Bobby is directing the clean up, but Buck can't focus. A headache that had started at the base of his skull is now throbbing in time with his quick heart.
“Fuck.” He grumbles and walks towards where Hen is finishing up treating the victims. Only minor injuries, no fatalities. Hen has a small station set up with first aid and water.
He sits on the bumper of the ambulance and watches her work. He should be helping. He just needs a break. His head pulses and he pinches the bridge of his nose, holding tight like pressure outside might ease the pressure inside.
“Here,” Hen sits next to him and holds out a paper cup filled with water. He takes it and sips. It’s warm and tastes like wet paper.
“Thanks.”
She goes back to her work and Buck dumps the rest of the water into the dirt. He ends up stumbling back to the engine. He hauls himself up into the seat and shuts the door. He just needs a moment of quiet.
He only gets one moment before the door is opening and Eddie is climbing in next to him.
“Are you okay?” Eddie sits in his seat and turns toward Buck. “You disappeared on me.”
“Sorry, tired.” Not wrong, but not quite right. “Headache,” he adds.
Eddie leans down and reaches under his seat. He produces a large water bottle. Blue tinted plastic with a large mouth and a screw top. The side is emblazoned with the LAFD logo and underneath in neat type it reads Diaz. Buck vaguely recognizes it, he remembers some wellness campaign the department ran a while ago. Buck thinks his is abandoned in the bottom of his locker or something. He didn't know Eddie used his.
"Drink some water, it'll help." Eddie is already unscrewing the cap and pressing the bottle into Buck's hands. The water sloshes when Eddie lets go with one hand, Buck realizes his hands are shaking. The bottle is full and heavier than he expected. Eddie doesn't say anything, he just keeps his other hand steady on the bottom of the bottle and tilts it up so Buck can drink. Buck lets it happen. The water is cool and tastes of nothing. Perfectly nothing. Buck hates it when water has a weird taste. He sips and then gulps.
"Easy," Eddie says, his voice low in Buck's ear. Eddie is turned in his seat to face him, one hand on the bottle the other now reaching up to hold Buck's shoulder. Buck feels stable for the first time in hours with Eddie holding him in place.
“Sorry,” Buck gasps after swallowing, “I guess I was thirsty.”
"You should drink more water, man," Eddie pulls the bottle back and screws on the cap.
“I forget,” Buck shrugs. Eddie looks like he wants to say something, but he purses his lips instead.
Buck leans against Eddie on the drive back to the station. He closes his eyes and feels the headache melt away.
–
Buck can hear Eddie walking up the stairs from where he is laying on the couch in the loft. He sits up a bit against the arm and curls up his legs to make space on the other side of the couch just in time for Eddie to flop down. He keeps his arms raised like he's on a rollercoaster while Buck stretches out his legs again over Eddie's thighs and then he drops his hands over Buck's calves. Well, one hand. The other hand is holding a water bottle. The same one he had pulled out in the engine the shift before.
"You haven't had anything to drink all day." Eddie hands him the bottle. Buck takes it.
"Not true. I had coffee when I got here and I had a smoothie after that crazy bicycle pile up."
"Those don't count, you need water, Buck." Eddie watches him closely as he fiddles with the lid and runs his finger over the ridges of the logo decal. "How are you this averse to proper hydration, you're supposed to be the health nut.”
"I'm not averse." Buck opens the lid and cranes his neck up to drink.
"Buck. Sit up. You're going to choke." Eddie shoves at his legs and Buck complies. He swings his torso up and around until he's sitting upright against the back of the couch. His leg pressed flush against Eddie's. "Drink."
He does. He's not thirsty. He sips at it anyway. It's the same as before, slightly cool but not cold enough to make his teeth hurt. He can't taste any weird mineral or chemical flavors that usually put him off. He can't even taste the plastic of the bottle.
After that Eddie starts keeping the bottle with him all the time. He hands it off to Buck at regular intervals for him to drink and then takes it back. He must be refilling it although Buck doesn't notice him doing it, but he feels more hydrated than he's ever been in his life. He stops getting headaches at the end of every shift. He feels more clear headed. So he lets Eddie keep at it.
–
The thing is though that Buck is an adult. A responsible adult who knows how to take care of himself. It's a waste of Eddie's time to spend so much of it looking after Buck. But he does feel better now that's he's staying so well hydrated.
When he gets in for his next shift he roots around in the bottom of his locker until he uncovers his own water bottle. It's all scratched up and dusty, but he cleans it off and fills it up from the filter in the fridge and carries it down to morning briefing. He slides onto the bench next to Eddie who is already there, his water bottle tucked under the bench at his feet.
Buck holds up his bottle so Eddie can see, but instead of approval a weird annoyed look flashes across Eddie's face. He schools it quickly and gives Buck a thumbs up as Bobby starts talking.
Buck doesn't listen to a word Bobby says. He spends the entire time he is sitting there trying to look at Eddie without getting caught by either Bobby or Eddie. They have only just been allowed to sit next to each other at briefings again after the last incident, so he can't get caught being distracted again.
Eddie seems fine, as far as Buck can surmise from the corner of his eye. He's sitting up straight, his face is relaxed, he doesn't look tense or in pain or tired.
"Okay, let's get to it." Bobby calls. The dismissal cuts through the noise in Buck's head and he follows suit as everyone breaks from the loose crowd that had formed.
Eddie bends over and grabs his water bottle, Buck does the same. Eddie stands and walks off towards the locker room, Buck follows. He has no idea what his assignments are for the day. He'll check the board later.
"Look what I found." Buck tries to start a conversation after he notices they aren't speaking. They usually fall into their rhythm without him trying, so it's notable that he has to come up with something to say. Buck is holding his water bottle up again.
"Nice, man, good for you." Eddie doesn't look at him. He pulls at the latch of his locker and busies himself with whatever he's looking for. "I'm glad you're finally listening to me."
"Yeah, I haven't had any headaches since, y'know, I started drinking more, so it seemed like a good idea."
"You've been so dehydrated it gives you headaches? Regularly?"
"I mean, not bad ones," Buck kicks the toe of his boot into the floor.
"Unbelievable," Eddie shakes his head and tosses his water bottle into his locker and throws it shut. He doesn't slam it, he's not mad, he's just. Tense. Buck is making him tense for some reason and he just wants to smooth it out.
"But you were right, so, problem solved, I guess." Buck makes a point of taking a drink out of his bottle, but he can't help the face he makes. It tastes, well, gross. It's tepid and the taste is off in some way he can't put his finger on. Maybe it's the plastic from sitting abandoned for so long, maybe the filter in the fridge has gone off, or the water is especially hard today. Buck doesn't spit it out, but he wants to.
“Eugh,” he smacks his lips.
“What?” Eddie turns around.
“It tastes,” not like yours, “I don't know, off.” He opens his own locker and tosses the bottle back in. “Can I just keep using yours?”
“Yeah, bud, of course.” Eddie smiles. The tension seems to bleed out of him.
Eddie retrieves his from his locker again and opens it for Buck to rinse whatever bad taste still lingered in his mouth. Eddie's was good. Maybe it was from yesterday, before the filter went bad, maybe he brought it from home or something. Buck drinks his fill.
Tagged yesterday by my dearest @spotsandsocks who shared some absolutely amazing words y'all should show some love! 🩷🩷
Soooo... Been a while! Whoever decided masters degrees were good ideas was wrong btw. But! I do get a little time here and there to write. (Now if I could get a little time to finish something, that'd be so great). Anyway! In true Maggie fashion, I've started a new wip. So have the beginning 😁 of touch-linked buddie! (also please note: this is... I'm gonna say dubious consent, because they neither one know what exactly is happening right now):
It starts as a light pressure on his thigh. Just there enough to make him flinch at the sensation. Like fingertips along his skin, there and gone again.
Eddie excuses it as the sheet brushing his leg where his shorts have ridden up.
But it doesn’t make a lot of sense, considering he was fast asleep and dreaming about a certain best friend. A bomb exploding wouldn’t have woken him up. Why this sensation did, he’s not quite sure.
He’s just about to doze off again when the sensation returns, like a hand resting on his belly.
His hand flies to the spot. Maybe some bug is crawling around in his bed. But when he lifts the covers, he finds nothing. In fact, the sensation doesn’t go away.
It’s warm, like a physical hand is resting on his body.
And look, he may be more open-minded these days, but a tactile ghost is still a little far-fetched for him to believe.
He rubs at the spot and the sensation goes away, like it was never there.
Maybe he’s pinched a nerve somewhere, or something. He’s too tired to guess too much about it.
He gives up and rolls over again, pressing his face into the pillows and letting his eyes slip shut.
And then the sensation is back again. A hand trailing up his abs, his chest. Goosebumps rise on his skin as he shivers. His breath hitches when what feels like a fingertip makes a circle around his nipple.
Okay, whatever’s happening is decidedly not a pinched nerve. Or a dream. It could be a nightmare were it not for the fact Eddie is completely and annoyingly wide awake right now.
The touch– the fingertips, there’s no other way to describe it– gently pinch his nipple, drawing another gasp from him.
He throws the covers off himself and reaches over to switch on the lamp, looking desperately for some explanation that doesn’t involve ghosts, or worse yet an intruder.
But he’s alone. Except for the hand that’s now trailing to his other pec, touch featherlight but unmistakably present.
He rubs at the center of his chest and the phantom disappears from his body again, almost like something yanked the hand away.
What the fuck.
(tags under the cut! As always please let me know if you want to be added/ removed):
What drives me insane is living with the knowledge that one word from Eddie and we'd have our Buddie canon. I can't imagine a world where Buck rejects him. Eddie could point his angry finger at Buck and say "mine", and Buck would say yes and fall to his knees right then and there.
“You didn’t know he was doing this?” Taylor asks as she takes her phone back.
“I didn’t know we were dating,” Buck whispers, eyes tracking Eddie as he heads back to the table. Taylor laughs and quickly stops.
“Oh my god, you’re not joking. Well, good luck with uh - that,” Taylor snorts. She’s gone before Eddie sits back down, sliding two gin and sodas across the table towards Buck.
or
The one where Buck didn’t know they were dating and Eddie is embracing whimsy (and isn’t as much of a technophobe as we think he is).