#the arrival of the homemade links
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Many of the Links are mature, steady, reasonable adults. And some of them like to cause problems on purpose. 3 guesses what kind of Link the Pink Mage is. Old Mate gets into fights with children willing.
#loz#the legend of zelda#loz fanart#zelda fancomic#legend of zelda#loz link#gates of courage au#the arrival of the homemade links#pink link#lil sis link#chance link#engineer link#keaton link#zelda memes#do i content warning this?#I... don't think so....#eh
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Be My Guest
Pairing | Kate Carter x Tyler Owens
Summary | One time Tyler stays in Kate’s guest room and one time she stays in his
Warnings | discussions of trauma/injury associated with storm chasing, SMUT 18+
W/C | 6.6k
A/N | We wanted to hop into the Twisters fandom before it took ao3 by storm and this is *so far* what we've come up with. So...if you feel it... -smoe <33
AO3 | Link
Donations | Link
Hers
She came home for safety, familiarity, to find her way forward but instead, she found herself more lost than when she’d arrived.
It was only supposed to be a week. Sure, Kate thought it would be difficult to be back in the field but she hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t anticipated him. It shouldn’t matter. She had a job in New York, a life, a stable, safe job, her own apartment–everything she needed. But was it everything she wanted?
What Tyler had said crossed a line but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. It was just something she probably already knew, deep down, and hadn’t wanted to accept. She was running away from the storm but she should know better than most that it would always catch up.
With an aggravated sweep of her arm, all of her past research was on the floor, pages floating around her before finding a place to land. She almost immediately regretted the mess but it had felt good. For the last five years, she’s avoided risk but now it almost feels hypocritical to say that she misses it.
Kate bent to gather the papers but only grabbed a few before stopping at her Cloud Physics notebook which had fallen open to a familiar page. She sat down in front of it and traced the impressions of her writing on the pages. It was too much to retrace her steps, to consider what had gone wrong. She needed to get out of her head and she couldn’t do that without getting out of this damn barn.
She knocked lightly on the kitchen door so as not to startle her mom. Being an adult, Kate felt an aversion to putting these things on her mom. Her mother had always been supportive, even when knowing her daughter’s passion was actively putting her in danger. Maybe she just didn’t want her mom to repeat the same sentiments as Tyler but she also knew she wasn’t about to come to any decision without some guidance. Just like seeing her middle school science project again, she felt like a child standing in the kitchen.
“Kate?”
“Yeah, it’s just me.” She sighed and pulled out the chair at the dining table that had always belonged to her. The smell of whatever her mother was stirring made her stomach grumble. “Where’s Tyler?”
“Oh, he drove pretty far so he’s getting cleaned up.” Kate could tell her mom was trying to sound uninterested, maybe for her sake but still she asked, “What’s his story anyway?”
“He’s just some internet star from Arkansas,” She explained, picking at a stain on the table. For a moment she thought about leaving it at that but the fire he had lit in the barn was still burning inside her. Sardonically, she added, “He’s made a living as a so-called ‘Tornado Wrangler’ but so far he’s only shot some fireworks into a cyclone and nearly killed the reporter signed on to cover him and his team.”
Her mom chuckled and replied, “Sounds like a man looking for a thrill to me.”
Again, she felt like a child relaying the latest gossip from the schoolyard but she couldn’t help but continue.
“And his whole team is this ragtag group of people who’ve never been to school for this either!”
“I see.”
“I mean sure he’s studied meteorology but they could get seriously hurt.” Kate had busied herself by fiddling with a napkin she’d pulled from the homemade holder. The shreds of it were getting smaller and smaller. “They’re no professionals.”
Her mom hummed, acknowledging her annoyance but countered with, “Well he doesn’t seem too bad to me, he did drive all the way here.” Although her mother graciously spared her the ‘for you’ that they both knew completed that thought, she felt its weight. It was easier to make him seem unlikeable than tell her mom that it was her that was in the wrong.
“You’d believe me if you saw the shirts he sells, his face all sprawled across them.” Kate laughed, thinking of the cheesy slogans. It wasn’t lost on her that she had assumed the worst of him. She thought back to what Lily had said and felt ashamed. “Though,” She conceded, “the money does pay for food for the aftermath survivors. They were handing it out at the last town we were in after the tornado hit.”
“Not all bad then?” Her mother turned fully to face her and Kate knew her teasing expression said all she needed to know.
“I guess not.”
_ _ _
Dinner had been passable, if not enjoyable. Kate had figured it would be awkward, that the dynamic between her and her mom would be offset by Tyler’s presence but it had flowed easily. The only gripe she had was that her mother had gone over her head to invite him to stay the night. In her ideal world, she would’ve ushered him out right after dinner saying a quick thanks for his concern but sending him on his way knowing that she’d never have an obligation to speak to him again.
Tyler had, of course, helped her mom with the dishes, leaving her to watch awkwardly so as not to take up unnecessary space in the small kitchen. She’d shot him a tight smile as he’d excused himself to his room for the night.
“Well,” Her mom said from the doorway, “I’m off to bed. Shut the lights, will you?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she made her way past the living room to her bedroom.
Kate tapped her fingers sporadically against the table, the sound echoing in the quiet house. She hadn’t been fully present for dinner. Every time she looked at Tyler she could only think about what she was doing wrong, what she was missing. As much as she resented the fact, there was no way she could make peace with the past couple of days if she didn’t get in another word with him.
She flipped the last of the switches off and made her way up the stairs, avoiding the ones she knew were extra creaky. At the landing, Kate considered just going to her bedroom but her feet kept their integrity and trudged her towards the guest room.
Her hand was poised to knock when the door opened.
“Kate?” The sound of his voice combined with the unexpected image made her jump. Whatever she had been prepared to say had left with her surprise but Tyler was already speaking again. “Listen, what I said in the barn was out of line I shouldn’t have–”
“No you shouldn’t have…but you weren’t wrong either.”
Stepping back, he opened the door a bit more and though it wasn’t quite an invitation. It was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross with his apology and her admittance the gist of what she’d hoped for. She promised herself that if he didn’t try to say anything else, she’d just turn around and walk away. He bit his lip, seeming to wrestle with something the same way she was.
“What’s the story behind you and Javi?” The question surprised her and she felt a vague excitement about his interest or rather the fact that he was interested at all. But the story itself was not something she was sure she could share.
“We met in college, he was friends with my…my boyfriend at the time.”
Tyler’s eyebrow raised in a silent question before he said, “And your boyfriend he was…”
She couldn’t stand in the hallway any longer where she was fully open to his scrutiny whether the story inspired pity or something else. Kate stepped past him into the room and started to explain,
“He was in the accident, along with two of my best friends.” She folded her arms across her chest, in a way trying to shield herself from the memories. “We were testing the polymer on what we thought was an EF1 but–”
“It was an EF5.” She nodded and his lips shifted into a sympathetic frown. Kate sat on the edge of the bed so that she didn’t have to face him head on.
She continued with, “So, I quit school and packed up to New York. Javi went back to Miami but because of the outbreak he thought he could use a second pair of eyes and invited me on.” From her peripheral, she could see the way he nodded along as she spoke, the genuine compassion still written in his features. She shrugged, unwilling to allow herself to feel the extent of the situation and the memories in front of him, “None of it matters though, I’ll be back in the city by the end of the week anyway.”
“You mean you’re giving up?” Tyler asked like it was somehow a personal affront to him or some greater injustice. Kate wasn’t sure what he cared. They’d only just met and he didn’t know her, not really.
“I’m not giving up. I can’t live like this again, risking my life every day.”
“Because of the accident?” The way he said it, like it was only a passing moment and not something that monumentally changed not only her life but her, made her response sharp.
“Yes, because of the accident.”
He was unshaken by her hostility and placed a hand lightly on top of hers where it sat between them on the bed.
“Kate, I’ve seen people get hurt too, I’ve–” She couldn’t listen to this, couldn’t have him reduce her experience by comparison. If he thought this was the way to change her mind, he was sorely mistaken.
“Yeah, Tyler, well I got hurt. I watched people die, and I’ll bear those scars for the rest of my life.” Her body filled with tension of the memory as her breath began to quicken. She let the anger take over, the simplicity of it easier than the complicated truth. “I don't know why I even–”
“Hold on–Kate!”
Kate could feel the air his failed reach created as he tried to grab her wrist to stop her. She was fast though, spurred on by the singular goal of getting the hell away from him. When she made it to the threshold of her room, she moved to shut the door. It almost slammed fully closed but groaned as the wood crashed into the foot he’d managed to snake in.
“Go to bed,” She demanded.
“So what, you’re going to help Javi line the pockets of Riggs for the rest of the week? The real estate shark that's directly profiting off the suffering of these people?” It seemed he couldn’t help, was adept at, pushing her buttons. If she were any bolder, she’d have already struck the self-righteous expression off his face.
“I didn’t know about that, I would have never–these are my people but this isn’t the way, the polymer didn’t work and people died because of it.”
“More will too, but only if you don’t do anything.” He tried to reach for her again but she shrugged away, “It could work. Together we could do this.” Tyler’s expression was pleading, his eyes urging her to make the right decision.
“Goodnight, Tyler.”
His
The flight was thankfully uneventful and much easier than her last flight to Oklahoma when she’d been dreading the very idea of her return. There were still memories that haunted the place she called home but now she could rest assured that they weren’t losses for nothing and that she may very well be able to save someone, hopefully many someones, from the same suffering she had endured for years.
Kate dragged her suitcases through the airport and the bustle of people coming and going made her feel oddly comforted. New York was easy to get lost in and for the time, it was exactly what she needed. But it had only ever been a place she ran away to and after a while she was running too fast to ever see it for what it was. Here, in Oklahoma, she was home.
She made her way out to the pickup lanes and was met with a calm blue sky, one that she knew–or maybe even hoped–wouldn’t last. At the five-minute mark, Kate was unbothered. By ten, she considered concern. By twenty, she was on the phone. It took three calls getting sent to voicemail before her mother picked up on the fourth.
“Hey, are you alright?” She tried not to sound too concerned but it wasn’t like her mother to forget an obligation or to not pick up the phone.
“Oh, sunshine, I’m fine. It’s my truck that’s acting up,” Her mom replied. “I was on the road already when it decided to quit on me. I’m not sure how long repairs are going to take. You want me to call someone for you?” Kate sighed, more relieved by her mother’s well-being than bothered by the situation.
“No, don’t worry about it,” She answered, “As much as you don’t like it, I am a big girl. I can take care of it.”
“I know you can, baby. Don’t worry about making it here tonight, just take care of yourself.”
They exchanged ‘I love you’s before it sunk in that actually did have to take care of it. She found herself a spot on a nearby bench and tucked her luggage in beside her. Scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovered over Javi before something urged her to keep going. Kate wasn’t sure if this was a bad idea but lately, she could handle a little risk.
“Hello?” She bit her lip, knowing this was her last chance to turn back. Still, he might not even be around or available to get her.
“Hey, Tyler?”
“Uh, yeah?” His voice was in performance mode, his uncertainty no match to his inherent charisma. Kate found herself filled with an urgent hope.
“It's Kate, Kate Carter.”
“Kate!” She could hear the smile in his voice. It was the first time she’d called him since he gave her his number and she was just beginning to regret not using it sooner. “What uh…what's going on?”
Her stomach flipped at the realization that she had to explain herself, that she wasn’t just calling him. Oh god, was this a mistake? Kate had thought there was something there when they were saying goodbye but maybe this was pushing it.
“Are you in Oklahoma by any chance?”
“I am actually,” Tyler replied before he, with a hopeful tone, asked, “Are you here?”
“Do you think you could pick me up from the airport?” She fought the urge to cross her fingers like a little girl. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had to call Javi but she couldn’t help but want to see where this path led.
“Of course!” Her chest tightened, a mix between excitement and worry. “Is everything alright with your mom?” Kate’s cheeks flushed, touched by his concern.
“Yeah–truck just wasn’t starting, don’t worry,” She said, hoping she sounded nonchalant.
“Alright then, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” In the background, Kate could hear his keys jingling already and she smiled to herself.
“Thanks so much. Bye.”
_ _ _
Kate had been inside, sitting at a cafe when her phone buzzed in her pocket, Tyler letting her know that he’d made it. She tossed out her empty coffee cup before regathering her things and taking a deep breath. If she was being honest with herself, she was excited to see him but she didn’t want to endure the inevitable teasing she’d be subject to should she seem too eager to be in his presence.
The sliding doors opened and it took her a minute to spot the familiar red truck. Her eyes followed the path to where Tyler was busy basking in the attention of an adoring fan. What more could she expect?
“And did you want this signed cause I could definitely sign this for you.”
He didn’t notice as she siddled up, even with the rumble of her suitcases on the concrete. She shook her head at the display of his ‘Tornado Wrangler’ persona and thought better than to let him off the hook.
With the exaggerated voice of a dedicated fan, she implored, “Oh my goodness! Is that Tyler Owens? I am your biggest fan!”
“That’s me darlin’, what can I do for–Kate.” He cleared his throat and straightened out his posture, putting on the real Tyler at the sight of her. Kate bit her lip, sparing him the laugh that threatened to escape her.
“Tyler,” She said, “You look good.”
“Well, I feel good.” Tyler stood with his hands on his hips, the two of them alone now and it seemed neither of them knew just what to say. She laughed at his remark and began to heave her luggage into the bed. Before she could lift the larger of the two bags, Tyler was stopping her with a hand on her wrist. Kate looked up at him, confused.
“Don’t make me make you get in the truck.” She glared at him, gauging whether or not he was serious. He only matched her expression. “Get in the truck,” Tyler repeated.
Kate rolled her eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. She couldn’t help but lean over toward the shift, running her fingers across the buttons. Her pointer finger landed on the tape labeled, ‘Kate’s Barrels’ and traced over his writing. When the driver's door opened, she jumped at the movement and tore her hand away.
“Headed to your mom’s?” Tyler asked, fingers tapping a rhythm onto the wheel.
“Uh, no actually just any motel close would be good. Home’s a bit far and the flight was long. I just want to go to bed.” She reminded herself that that was the only reason.
“I’m close,” He told her. Since when was he close? “I mean you could stay in my guest room and I could take you back to Sapulpa in the morning?” The idea sounded as equally dangerous as it was appealing. With a motel, she was in control of the situation but his place? There was no knowing.
Clearing her throat she answered, “That…sounds fine.”
Tyler tipped his hat toward her and then he was making his way out of the parking spot. For a little while, they sat in comfortable silence, the radio filling the empty space between them. Once they were outside the city, it was comforting to watch as farmland made up her view. The word rattled in her head again. Home.
“So, how did it end up going with the investors?” He asked. “Good, I assume since you’re back in Oklahoma.” Kate couldn’t help but smile knowing well enough already how happy he’d be to hear. Not to mention how happy she was to achieve something she’d been chasing since the possibility entered her mind.
“Yeah, it went very well actually. We uh–we got a lot of people interested and the offers were so good…I quit my job and sold the apartment. I’m back, back.”
Tyler’s smile grew to a million watts as he exclaimed, “Kate! That’s amazing!”
“Thank you, we’re really excited.” She thought she saw his grin falter a bit but she couldn’t pin down why. Still, after a moment he let out a whoop, honking the horn at the expense of the car in front of them. Kate laughed, placing her hand over his to keep him from doing it again.
“So, where you planning on living? With Javi?”
“Actually I’m not sure yet. Javi has this new girlfriend from back in Miami and they’re pretty wrapped up in each other.” His eyebrows raised and she continued, “My mom's kind of out of the way too. Plus, she’s thinking of selling since seed prices just keep going up. Says she’s sick of the weather.”
Tyler’s jaw went slack, exaggerating his shock. “Sick of the–Sick of the weather?”
“What can I say, she doesn’t appreciate the beauty of the storm.” Kate sighed theatrically. Her hand went to her forehead in a ‘woe is me’ gesture. He chuckled, punching her playfully in the arm.
“On the topic of prices though, she is right.” Tyler sighed as he turned onto a new street. “That’s why I bought land and started from the ground up.”
“Land?” She repeated. It hadn’t been that long that she’d been gone. When and more so why had he decided to put down roots and outside of Arkansas for that matter.
“Yes, ma’am.” His mouth quirked up in a prideful smirk.
“And here I thought I’d be sharing some shitty motel room.”
They pulled into a long dirt driveway, the grass surrounding it still young. While the house was clearly new, the style had a nostalgic feel to it. It was painted a fresh shade of cream and the white wrap-around porch just screamed summer nights. If she didn’t know better she’d think she was going to visit some sweet old lady.
“Here we are, home sweet home.”
Tyler opened her door for her like a proper gentleman and she stepped out into pleasant fresh air. The whole thing was picturesque. Kate supposed she shouldn’t really be surprised considering she didn’t really know his tastes but the whole thing surprised her nonetheless.
She followed Tyler through the front door as he carried her bags inside. The interior was just as sweet as the exterior had been but Kate could see the signs that were uniquely him. There were various piles and pieces of gear strewn about that she recognized from having filled her mother’s house with. Even with the classic style, the appliances and layout were tastefully modern. She was impressed.
Kate stepped into the kitchen which seemed to be the most lived-in room. There were pictures of the Wranglers and what she assumed was his family stuck to the fridge. Her eyes drifted to a bulletin board hung up next to it and tacked up in the center of it was a page ripped out of their article from Ben, one with a picture of her. She could feel her cheeks flush even with him still in the other room. Though she wanted to, Kate knew she wouldn’t mention it.
“You hungry?” She jumped at the sound of Tyler’s voice.
“No, I couldn’t–” The same look that urged her to ‘get in the truck’ painted his face and she reconsidered her answer. “Starved.”
Tyler seemed satisfied. He pulled out a seat at the kitchen island where she could have a clear view of him whipping something together. The whole thing felt unnervingly domestic but she enjoyed it all the same.
“This place is really nice, Tyler,” Kate said. Gesturing toward his tricked-out home office–that was maybe a little too nice for a YouTube star–she pointed out, “Got a nice setup too.”
“Yeah, the team has pretty much paired off and they live here and there but we come back for a warm meal more often than not.”
“Not you though?” It had crossed her mind that maybe the sudden home ownership had been a response to some sort of serious relationship. She tried to sound casual since it wasn’t really any of her business.
Tyler smiled and shrugged. “Nah, a fearless leader has to hold down the fort.” Kate rolled her eyes and laughed at his cockiness. It was better knowing that it didn’t run deep. She thought better than to push it but still, she wanted to know what this whole thing was for.
“No, but seriously, why a house?”
“Oklahoma is the past, present and future of tornadoes. That’s no secret,” He replied like it was some well-known slogan. Yeah, the outbreak they experienced had put Oklahoma back on the map but Tornado Alley spanned a wide area, including Arkansas.
“How do you figure?”
“Well you’re here, aren’t you?” Her stomach sank, trying to decipher the meaning behind what he said. His focus was trained on the pot in front of him like what he’d said was no big deal. What was she supposed to say to that?
Without an answer, Tyler clarified, “You’ve got better instinct than anyone I’ve ever met, better than any Doppler too.”
He’d turned to her and winked in her continued silence. Kate nodded with a smile like it was casual to her too. She shifted under his intense gaze and thought it was an apt time to break the tension with something she’d been tossing around in her mind. He laid a plate of spaghetti in front of her before sitting down himself. She cleared her throat.
“I was going to wait to bring this up but…I was wondering if you would consider being partners.”
“Really?” The excitement on his face was genuine and Kate could see the surprise too. It made her feel secure in her decision.
“Javi and I both have stakes in it but he’s avoiding the field as much as he can right now. He’s got the business side under control but, like I said, he’s got someone at home who’d prefer he didn’t get blown away.”
Tyler stayed practically frozen in place. Maybe she’d overstepped her bounds after all. She could tell herself all she wanted that she wouldn’t be hurt if he didn’t want to partner with her but that didn’t make it the truth.
“What do you say, me and you?” Kate asked, bracing for his answer.
“You and me,” Tyler replied genuinely and with what she hoped was a hint of awe.
They ate silently, half from hunger and half in consideration of their future. As much as Kate didn’t want to admit it, there were other questions lingering between them. When her plate was cleared, he insisted on taking care of the simple cleanup himself leaving Kate to sit idly at the kitchen table, unable to get anywhere else without his direction anyway.
With the dishes washed, Tyler turned his attention back to her but it seemed he had just as much of an idea of how to proceed as she did.
“So, uh…” She began, uncertain where she was going.
“I bet you probably want to get cleaned up. There’s an en suite in the guest room.”
“Yeah, great.” As much as she wanted to bolt, Kate got up from the table slowly as if she were as calm as could be. Still, she didn’t wait for any instructions as to where to go. She didn’t turn back to look at him as she climbed the stairs, internally cursing herself for adding to the awkward atmosphere.
“First door on the right!” Tyler called after her because, of course, she hadn’t asked.
_ _ _
The warm water had been just what she needed, especially paired with the time away from Tyler to think. As much as there had been a sense of tension between them, her feelings had settled on contentment and maybe even excitement. They were partners now and they had plenty of time to figure everything and anything else out. They’d been through hell already and he would help her through it again.
She stepped out of the shower, her feet hitting the plush bath mat, and reached for a towel. Her hand grabbed only air. Upon further inspection, the towel rack was completely unoccupied. Shit.
“Um, Tyler?” Kate called. She waited a few minutes for his response and when it didn’t come she yelled louder. “Tyler!” She let out a breath when she heard his footsteps on the stairs.
“Yeah?”
“There are no towels in here!”
“Shit. My bad, no one has used that bedroom yet,” Tyler explained. His feet were already causing the wood floor to creak when he assured, “I’ll grab you one, be right back.”
Kate couldn’t believe this was happening. There was a good chance that she’d expose herself in the exchange. She’d even left her clothes on the bed, choosing to strip before going to the bathroom.
A few minutes later there was a hesitant knock on the door.
“Here, I brought you a few. I don’t know what you prefer,” Tyler said.
She had to assume that he was smart enough not to look. He’d been nothing but polite after all. When she opened the door, his eyes were covered by the palm of his hand, and his other arm was extended out to her. Kate tried not to laugh at the look of him.
“Thanks.”
Kate wrapped the largest towel around herself and used another to dry the excess moisture from her hair. She pulled the door back open, assuming he was gone but she was met with his figure, eyes still shielded. Nearly bumping right into him, she let out an involuntary sound something between a squeak and a groan. Tyler echoed the sound and quickly flipped his hand so he could see her. She had to assume that his subsequent turning around was motivated by her state of undress.
She didn’t know what else to do besides starting to dress. It seemed he wasn’t done talking to her just yet. After a moment, he spoke.
“Uh, Kate…I, uh, realized I didn’t say thank you just then for considering me.”
“Who else could I possibly consider?” She winced at her own words. By no means did Kate want to sound like she was unhappy, she just didn’t want to make it a big deal between them.
“Well, right, I guess there’s not many storm chasers to begin with and especially not ones who’ve studied meteorology.” Kate could hear the slight hurt in his voice even as he tried to tease and she couldn’t blame him. She’d said the wrong thing. She quickly finished pulling on her pajama pants so she could focus on the conversation before she said something else she regretted.
“Tyler,” She said softly. He still had his back considerately turned to her. Like a kid trying to pass notes in class, Kate tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Tyler smiled as he faced her and it gave her the boost she needed to say what she wanted. “You’re the reason I’m doing this in the first place. You believed in me even when I didn’t. We’re going to be helping people and that’s because of you.”
He was shaking his head before she’d even finished.
“You can’t believe that, it's your polymer, your idea–”
She took a confident step forward, the action effectively shutting him up. The closer Kate got the more she angled up at him, his height towering over her. Her hand found its way to his jaw, cupping it gently, her thumb brushing over the stubble of his skin. Before she had the chance to close the distance, Tyler took his chance to capture her lips with his own.
It started slow, hesitant to the possibility of too much too fast but quickly gained momentum as they threw caution to the wind. It had been years since Kate had done this, never quite feeling able to move on from Jeb and the accident but now with a sense of closure and Tyler’s guiding hand she felt ready.
His mouth was eager as their kiss deepened, Tyler’s tongue painting the inside of her mouth, almost as if he was committing it to memory. Their heavy breaths filled the air and neither of them seemed willing to break the kiss as the minutes went on. It wasn’t until her fingers played at the hem of his shirt that he broke off, looking down at her through hooded eyes, his mouth swollen and flushed.
“Kate…”
The sight was too much and she couldn’t help but bring her lips back to his skin. They found purchase at his pulse point, kisses littering his neck as she made her intentions known to him with every touch.
Taking a step back, Tyler’s hands cradled her face and he searched her eyes, looking for what she wasn’t sure but when he seemed to find it a smile broke across his face. It was the same smile he sported every time the wind picked up and the radar lit up red: a man ready to face a challenge.
“You still wanna stay in my guest room?” He asked, though his joking town was limited by his heavy breathing. Kate knew he was teasing but he was just as eager as she was.
“If you keep up with that attitude I just might,” She replied, smiling ruefully.
“Honey,” Tyler beamed, “all I’ve got is attitude.”
A chuckle escaped her lips and his face turned from cocky to sincere before he leaned in to steal a kiss once more. His hands moved from her face to grasping her own as he led her to what she assumed was his room.
Kate struggled to keep up as he held his hands behind him for her to grasp. She held them awkwardly as the unusual position did not grant her a good grip. The playful air gave her butterflies but also made her feel a sense of safety, knowing that things didn’t have to be heavy between them.
Tyler turned, pulling their hands over his head so that Kate twirled around with him. He used the momentum to guide her backward into his room with his hands on her hips, attempting a cheesily seductive smolder. She used her heel to kick the door shut behind them.
Kate walked ahead of him to go sit on the edge of his bed. She could tell he was watching her closely to consider his next move but she enjoyed the idea of playing coy with him. Ignoring him, she took in the space which was surprisingly sparse especially compared to the ground floor.
“Wow, real homey in here,” Kate joked, feigning awe at the blank walls
“Oh, hush,” Tyler chided, “It hasn’t been that long since we finished construction.”
She put up her hands in surrender and replied, “Sure, sure.” He rolled his eyes at her and then his expression became soft again. Tyler walked forward, kneeing her legs open and standing between them. With just a tilt of her head they were kissing again and this time when she grabbed his shirt, he let her take it off of him. Kate paused a moment to take him in, the image one she intended to commit to memory before pulling her own shirt over her head.
The rest of their clothes came quickly but when it was time for her to remove her jeans she hesitated.
“We don’t have to do this.” Tyler reassured her, misreading her reluctance. Kate shook her head.
“It's not that it’s–” She huffed in frustration and rather than continue to overthink, pulled her pants down in one swift motion, hoping he’d move past the interruption rather than linger on the issue.
Instead, his eyes moved immediately to her lower half and zeroed in on her leg…her scar. Kate’s stomach began to churn. She knew that he knew the story but she hated that it had to be part of this moment between them. He had been part of making it possible for her to redeem herself, to make sure the losses were not worth nothing. Still, the memories and the physical signs would never leave her. It made her insecure but if he had a problem with it, this wasn’t worth continuing.
“Is this from…”
“Yes,” Kate replied flatly. She didn’t have anything to prove and she wanted more than anything to move on from this as soon as possible. Tyler looked up from the marred skin on her leg and cupped her face with one of his hands. His eyes were filled with pure admiration.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
Tyler’s lips were on hers again as he leaned her back into the bed, his body sculpting to hers. She felt a hand trail down her body, over her ass, before he hoisted her leg over his shoulder, his face turning towards her thigh and kissing over her scar as he lined himself up with her entrance. He looked at her until she realized he was waiting for her cue. She grabbed onto his upper arms and nodded, making it clear she was ready.
He was slow with her, caressing in all the right spots and making sure she was comfortable until he was finally fully inside her and they moaned in unison at the feeling. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time and when he took a moment to brush the hair from her face it made it all that much sweeter so much so that she laughed. Tyler looked at her, concerned but when she kissed him, he smiled into it catching her drift.
As he began to grind into her, he coaxed mewls from her lips, her hips meeting his instinctually at the pleasure. The way he watched her carefully for her reactions made her heart soar. He made it evident that they were in this together, that he cared about making her feel good. One of Tyler's hands still held her leg while the other found her clit, circling it while keeping pace and she couldn’t help the words spilling from her mouth.
“Tyler,” Kate pleaded, “Don’t stop.” He listened to her demand but she could see how it made him falter. His expression was that of awe as if he couldn’t believe that he was here with her, that she was enjoying what he was doing for them. She curled an arm around his neck and played with the hair there in a way that caused him to flush.
“I gotcha,” Tyler promised, somehow pressing them closer together, “I gotcha.”
She could’ve been embarrassed at how fast she came but Tyler didn’t give her a chance, instead riding her out through her climax and continuing to thrust even after. It was almost too much as tears of pleasure pricked her eyes and her moans filled the room. Her hands gripped the sheets, his arms, his hair, anything that she could reach to keep hold of her senses as they were overwhelmed. All she could think or comprehend was Tyler.
“I–I’m close,” He stammered, the tremble in his voice radiating throughout his body, “Kate, I–”
Her vision went white when she came again, though she could hear Tyler moan her name like a mantra, his head buried in her neck. One hand reached into his hair while the other traced absent circles on his back. It took him a minute but eventually, he came back to her.
“Hey,” He said, letting out a breathy laugh.
“Hi.”
Tyler pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, clearly savoring the moment. Kate didn’t want it to end either but she was confident that it was only beginning. They both let out their own versions of a disappointed noise as he pulled out.
When he disappeared into the ensuite, she pulled his comforter up around her, the scent of him enveloping her as well. He came back with a damp towel and once helped her clean up, he flopped into bed beside her, pulling her into his side.
Kate placed a hand on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under her palm. Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She wanted to bask in the moment a bit longer but before she knew it she was beginning to yawn.
The last thing she remembered before she fell into a peaceful sleep was the sweet kiss they shared and the soft rumble of his voice.
“Goodnight, Kate.”
#be my guest#twisters#twister 1996#glen powell#tyler owens#daisy edgar jones#kate carter#kate carter x tyler owens#thewordswewrite#fanfiction#ao3#saphnsmoe#ao3 fanfiction#tumblr fanfic#tyler owens x reader#angst#fluff#smut#tyler owens x you#tyler owens fic#tyler owens imagine#glen powell x you
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Linkrot
For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!
Here's an underrated cognitive virtue: "object permanence" – that is, remembering how you perceived something previously. As Riley Quinn often reminds us, the left is the ideology of object permanence – to be a leftist is to hate and mistrust the CIA even when they're tormenting Trump for a brief instant, or to remember that it was once possible for a working person to support their family with their wages:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/27/six-sells/#youre-holding-it-wrong
The thing is, object permanence is hard. Life comes at you quickly. It's very hard to remember facts, and the order in which those facts arrived – it's even harder to remember how you felt about those facts in the moment.
This is where blogging comes in – for me, at least. Back in 1997, Scott Edelman – editor of Science Fiction Age – asked me to take over the back page of the magazine by writing up ten links of interest for the nascent web. I wrote that column until the spring of 2000, then, in early 2001, Mark Frauenfelder asked me to guest-edit Boing Boing, whereupon the tempo of my web-logging went daily. I kept that up on Boing Boing for more than 19 years, writing about 54,000 posts. In February, 2020, I started Pluralistic.net, my solo project, a kind of blog/newsletter, and in the four-plus years since, I've written about 1,200 editions containing between one and twelve posts each.
This gigantic corpus of everything I ever considered to be noteworthy is immensely valuable to me. The act of taking notes in public is a powerful discipline: rather than jotting cryptic notes to myself in a commonplace book, I publish those notes for strangers. This imposes a rigor on the note-taking that makes those notes far more useful to me in years to come.
Better still: public note-taking is powerfully mnemonic. The things I've taken notes on form a kind of supersaturated solution of story ideas, essay ideas, speech ideas, and more, and periodically two or more of these fragments will glom together, nucleate, and a fully-formed work will crystallize out of the solution.
Then, the fact that all these fragments are also database entries – contained in the back-end of a WordPress installation that I can run complex queries on – comes into play, letting me swiftly and reliably confirm my memories of these long-gone phenomena. Inevitably, these queries turn up material that I've totally forgotten, and these make the result even richer, like adding homemade stock to a stew to bring out a rich and complicated flavor. Better still, many of these posts have been annotated by readers with supplemental materials or vigorous objections.
I call this all "The Memex Method" and it lets me write a lot (I wrote nine books during lockdown, as I used work to distract me from anxiety – something I stumbled into through a lifetime of chronic pain management):
https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/
Back in 2013, I started a new daily Boing Boing feature: "This Day In Blogging History," wherein I would look at the archive of posts for that day one, five and ten years previously:
https://boingboing.net/2013/06/24/this-day-in-blogging-history.html
With Pluralistic, I turned this into a daily newsletter feature, now stretching back to twenty, fifteen, ten, five and one year ago. Here's today's:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/21/noway-back-machine/#retro
This is a tremendous adjunct to the Memex Method. It's a structured way to review everything I've ever thought about, in five-year increments, every single day. I liken this to working dough, where there's stuff at the edges getting dried out and crumbly, and so your fold it all back into the middle. All these old fragments naturally slip out of your thoughts and understanding, but you can revive their centrality by briefly paying attention to them for a few minutes every day.
This structured daily review is a wonderful way to maintain object permanence, reviewing your attitudes and beliefs over time. It's also a way to understand the long-forgotten origins of issues that are central to you today. Yesterday, I was reminded that I started thinking about automotive Right to Repair 15 years ago:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2009/05/right-repair-law-pro
Given that we're still fighting over this, that's some important perspective, a reminder of the likely timescales involved in more recent issues where I feel like little progress is being made.
Remember when we all got pissed off because the mustache-twirling evil CEO of Warners, David Zaslav, was shredding highly anticipated TV shows and movies prior to their release to get a tax-credit? Turns out that we started getting angry about this stuff twenty years ago, when Michael Eisner did it to Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 911":
https://www.nytimes.com/2004/05/05/us/disney-is-blocking-distribution-of-film-that-criticizes-bush.html
It's not just object permanence: this daily spelunk through my old records is also a way to continuously and methodically sound the web for linkrot: when old links go bad. Over the past five years, I've noticed a very sharp increase in linkrot, and even worse, in the odious practice of spammers taking over my dead friends' former blogs and turning them into AI spam-farms:
https://www.wired.com/story/confessions-of-an-ai-clickbait-kingpin/
The good people at the Pew Research Center have just released a careful, quantitative study of linkrot that confirms – and exceeds – my worst suspicions about the decay of the web:
https://www.pewresearch.org/data-labs/2024/05/17/when-online-content-disappears/
The headline finding from "When Online Content Disappears" is that 38% of the web of 2013 is gone today. Wikipedia references are especially hard-hit, with 23% of news links missing and 21% of government websites gone. The majority of Wikipedia entries have at least one broken link in their reference sections. Twitter is another industrial-scale oubliette: a fifth of English tweets disappear within a matter of months; for Turkish and Arabic tweets, it's 40%.
Thankfully, someone has plugged the web's memory-hole. Since 2001, the Internet Archive's Wayback Machine has allowed web users to see captures of web-pages, tracking their changes over time. I was at the Wayback Machine's launch party, and right away, I could see its value. Today, I make extensive use of Wayback Machine captures for my "This Day In History" posts, and when I find dead links on the web.
The Wayback Machine went public in 2001, but Archive founder Brewster Kahle started scraping the web in 1996. Today's post graphic – a modified Yahoo homepage from October 17, 1996 – is the oldest Yahoo capture on the Wayback Machine:
https://web.archive.org/web/19960501000000*/yahoo.com
Remember that the next time someone tells you that we must stamp out web-scraping for one reason or another. There are plenty of ugly ways to use scraping (looking at you, Clearview AI) that we should ban, but scraping itself is very good:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/
And so is the Internet Archive, which makes the legal threats it faces today all the more frightening. Lawsuits brought by the Big Five publishers and Big Three labels will, if successful, snuff out the Internet Archive altogether, and with it, the Wayback Machine – the only record we have of our ephemeral internet:
https://blog.archive.org/2024/04/19/internet-archive-stands-firm-on-library-digital-rights-in-final-brief-of-hachette-v-internet-archive-lawsuit/
Libraries burn. The Internet Archive may seem like a sturdy and eternal repository for our collective object permanence about the internet, but it is very fragile, and could disappear like that.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/21/noway-back-machine/#pew-pew-pew
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Update on fanbinding dissertation: we now have textblocks!
The folded signatures spent the night in the makeshift press (under heavy books), looking very crisp, making me very happy. Ordered the missing supplies (cutting mat, knife, metal ruler, muslin instead of mull, a big sketchbook with black pages that will hopefully become endpapers) from HobbyCraft, because the bookbinding shops’ shipping fees are no joke. Waiting for that to arrive, I sewed the signatures together!
Used my wonky homemade cradle to punch the holes, following a guide I made out of whatever cardstock was in the recycling. Was originally debating the necessity of the awl, very happy I had it.
Sewed everything together following the instructions from How to Make A Book and this youtube video by DAS Bookbinding, which covers both French links and kettlestitches. As expected, sewing was really fun, very relaxing, and paired quite nicely with the ongoing supernatural rewatch.
Been trying to figure out how to add the title to the cover (I sadly don’t have the time/supplies to get into stamping / HTV / letterpress printing), and was inspired by this amazing bind by @celestial-sphere-press to try and do a half dust jacket thing, so I gave it a go while waiting for the last missing supplies, using a small hardback to see what it will hopefully look like. I like it a lot, but should probably find a white pen or pencil to draw with (didn't have anything paler than a yellow pencil on hand).
Next up: macgyvering a book press, glueing the spine, cutting the boards, sewing the headbands. Looking forward to three out of those four things.
#fanbinding dissertation#fanbinding#ficbinding#bookbinding#fanfiction#research#disser#fanbinding resources#autoethnography
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Well, Campfire Fest was an absolute blast. We had 18 participants and 65 submissions. This is a huge accomplishment that all of you made together! Thanks again to everyone who participated, it wouldn't have been such a great event without you. Major kudos to @noofl, @poisonhemloc, and @sawyer-is-eepy for submitting something for every day of the fest week during fest!
Honorable mention to @unnamedpebble for submitting something for every day of the fest week with the late submission period. Links to each days works are below the cut. If you haven't had the chance to peruse everything you really should. Everyone did such a great job and I continue to be so impressed with how talented this fandom is.
Be on the look out for more information on mod applications and on the winter event!
Day 1: Hourglass Twins, Angst, Slate, Locating the Eye
Tugging the Tether by @sawyer-is-eepy (fic)
Hour Glass Twins Warp Tower by @660percent (art)
Okay Maybe There Was One Death From The Space Program by @poisonhemloc (fic)
A Ship In Need of Repair by @carolkinopf (comic)
Bitter Medicine by @noofl (comic)
broken window by @tippertot (fic)
Campfire Fest 2024 Day 1 by @jellyfish-grave (comic)
Assurances by @merrydock (fic)
The Arrow of Time by @spitzyyyy (fic)
dropped in a canyon (help has now arrived) by @tksfandomhellhole (fic)
Post Feldspar's Disparition Slate by @unnamedpebble (art)
Time Stops for No One by SpaceMange (fic)
Day 2: Timber Hearth, Fluff, Hornfels, Music
Revelations by @sawyer-is-eepy (poem)
Hornfels - The Astronomer by @unnamedpebble (art)
What if Hornfels Didn't Know How to Whistle by @noofl (comic)
If You're Going to Play around a Campfire (You gotta have a Fiddle in the Band) by @poisonhemloc (fic)
Technically Kazoos are after Mirlitons Timeline-wise But by @poisonhemloc (fic)
a favorite of the formerly deceased by @spitzyyyy (fic)
Campfire Fest 2024 Day 2 by @jellyfish-grave (comic)
Child of the Stars by spacemange (fic)
Artistry by @merrydock (fic)
anti-fall tarp by @tksfandomhellhole
Day 3: Brittle Hollow, Hurt/Comfort, Gossan, Warp
Gossan by @unnamedpebble (art)
Gossan by @noofl (art)
Good Thing No One is Watching the Black Hole and About to Freak Out by @poisonhemloc (fic)
Brittle Hollow/Warp by @660percent (art)
warp to me by @tippertot (fic)
Untitled by @sawyer-is-eepy (art)
Campfire Fest 2024 Day 3 by @jellyfish-grave (art)
you're lucky they won't remember this by @spitzyyyy (fic)
Day 4: Giant’s Deep, Humor, Prophy, Sap Wine
Porphy and the Good Stuff by @cobaltbluesu (art)
Small Doodle by @noofl (comic)
This is a Speed Running Strat by @poisonhemloc (fic)
it do go down by @tksfandomhellhole (fic)
Porphy Tasting their Favorite Batch of Sapwine by @unnamedpebble (art)
Humor, Porphy, Sapwine by @jellyfish-grave (comic)
Behold! Sapwine! by @sawyer-is-eepy (comic)
Reflection under stormy green skies by CrimsonQuill086 (fic)
Thanks for Being my Time Buddy by SpaceMange (fic)
Day 5: Dark Bramble, Horror, Solanum, Ghost Matter
Noooo Hatchy by @unnamedpebble (art)
Our Friend with Ghostmatter by @noofl (art)
I Like to Think They are More Salamanders Than Fish by @poisonhemloc (fic)
The Horrors of Basic Biology by @tippertot (fic)
Solanum by @jellyfish-grave (comic)
Horror by @sawyer-is-eepy (comic)
Horror by @sawyer-is-eepy (art)
The Day After the End of the World by @tksfandomhellhole (fic)
Day 6: Space Station, Romance, Hal, Time Loop
White Hole Station by @unnamedpebble (art)
Hal and the Hatchling by @noofl (art)
Space Station by @660percent (art)
Space Station, Hal, Time Loop by @lutiaskokopelli (art)
River Chats by @poisonhemloc (fic)
If You Can't Talk Someone into Being Your Weighted Blanket Homemade is Fine by @poisonhemloc (fic)
Romance by @2isted-chocol8-art (comic)
Hal the Pal by @sawyer-is-eepy (art)
My future is in the forest of the stars by CrimsonQuillo86 (fic)
Day 7: Open Prompts
Time Buddies for the Soul by @unnamedpebble (art)
Don't Worry Guys They're All Fine by @noofl (comic)
Trailblazer 1 by @cobaltbluesu (comic)
Just a Weird AU Started by a Fall Out Boy Song by Fallout Boy (@poisonhemloc) (fic)
Universe by @2isted-chocol8-art (art)
Let's Walk Together by @jellyfish-grave (art)
Final Day by @eldritchcats (art)
Good-bye Campfire Fest by @sawyer-is-eepy (art)
The Divergence Hypothesis by @tksfandomhellhole (fic)
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Delayed package
Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol
Description: Right before BSD Cast got into your world, you ordered something. But, as it often happens, your package got delayed And, because of BSD Cast arrival and you moving out, you totally forgot about your package. Until one day, when it finally arrived.
Prequel to Two detectives in your bed
Warning: OOC. English is my second language.
You were mindlessly browsing the Internet. The room was dark and only light from your laptop screen illuminated the room. Thankfully, you were on vacation and have as much free time as you want. You yawn and glance in your phone screen. It was 3:00 am.
Three months before BSD Cast Arrived to this world
___________
You, probably, should go to sleep. But, you don't want to.
Many students left to visit their families. They will spend holidays with theirs relatives. Parents, siblings, cousins, grandparents and others.
You don't have a place to return to. You were talking with your relatives, yes. But, they do show you, that no one want to see you.
You were alone.
You don't have friends. Because of your insecurities, you were afraid of making friends. You were afraid of making a mistake. Of being laughed at.
But you want to have someone. You don't want to be alone anymore.
A single sob escaped your lips. Holidays were the worst. No one around. You couldn't even watch TV and cuddle with a pet, because your landlord isn't allowed pets in the apartment.
You glance at your bed. Full of pillows and few plush toys. So you can cuddle them to sleep. Pretend, that you snuggle up with someone. That you are not alone.
It was a poor substitute, but beggars can't be choosers.
You shook your head and return to the screen.
Maybe, you could watch something. Maybe, you can rewatch your favorite BSD Moments?
You nodded to yourself and start typing the link of the site, where you watch BSD. It took a few moments for it to open. And, of course, there were ads.
Premium account, new book, anime figures, dakimakuras... What?
You scroll up, looking at the small colorful ad with pictures of a few body pillows with anime characters on it. Out of curiosity, you click on the ad.
A new site was opened in a new window. It looked normal. Menu with catalog and FAQ. Search bar. Online shop cart. Contacts. Site looked good.
Just for fun, you search for BSD dakimakuras. You don't forget to choose SFW prints only.
In few moments you got your results. It wasn't much, but, all of them looked good.
You scroll down, and saw, that two dakimakuras were on sale. With Fyodor Dostoevsky and Nikolai Gogol. You click on them, taking a better look.
According to information and reviews, the pillows were big and soft, the prints were colorful. Both dakimakuras were good.
You wonder if you should buy one.
They looked good for hugging.
You cast another glance on your bed.
Body pillow would be better, that many simple pillows.
After a quick search, you discover, that site, where you saw dakimakuras, were a legit one and wasn't scamming people.
You return to the site. You... could buy both Fyodor and Gogol pillows without worrying about your finances.
But, should you?
You stare at the screen.
Your apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
You were alone.
You click on "Add to cart" option.
_______
First month... Second month... Third month...
Shop apologize for loosing package and return money. They also allow you to keep the package, if, one day, it arrived.
Then BSD cast arrived in real world...
With them came friendship.
New home. New memories.
Camping trip with ADA. Scavenger hunt with Port Mafia. Shopping trip with The Guild. Visit to museum with Rats in the house of the Dead. Laser tug with Decay of Angels. Sport competition with Hunting Dogs. Homemade theater with kids.
Walks, movie nights, game nights.
Breakfasts, lunches, dinners.
And no more loneliness.
And you completely forgot about the package.
_____
You, Elise, Mori and Karma were ready to go.
Karma and Elise need something for school, so, you all decide to go on a small shopping trip.
Right before leaving the house, you got a notification. You check it.
It was from your previous neighbors. The big package with your name on it arrived in your old apartment. And neighbors asked you to hurry up and took it from them.
You frowned. You didn't remember ordering something on your old address. Still, you didn't want to make your neighbors wait. They were good neighbors. But, you will do busy these days and your old apartment are far away.
It seems, your worried expression didn't leave unnoticed. You heard Karma's soft voice.
"[Y/N]? Is everything alright?"
You nodded mindlessly. Mostly, it was alright.
"Yes, it's just... My previous neighbors got a package with my name on it. Ask me to take it as soon as I can."
Elise tucked her hair behind the ear. She tried to give you her best puppy dog eyes.
"So, we are going without you? But, [Y/N], without you, Rintarou will be unbearable!"
Mori stands behind Elise. He also looked a tiny bit sad. Thankfully, he didn't try to make puppy dog eyes on you. You would not bear looking at Port Mafia boss, who tried to beg like this for something.
"Elise-chan, [Y/N] will decide for themselves. And here I was planning to treat you all in a restaurant."
It is a blackmail!
You huffed. But, the problem still stands. Well, time to ask someone for help. You turned around and hurry to the living room.
"Will be back in a minute!"
____
You run into Fyodor and Nikolai in the living room. Nikolai was telling a story to Fyodor, actively gesticulating. Meanwhile, Fyodor was nodding from time to time, showing, that he is listening.
Noticing you, Nikolai stopped talking and waved. His smile became even bigger.
"Birdy! Good to see you. Do you decide to stay home with us? Great! Come on, sit down, right between Fedya and I!" Kolya patted the sofa next to where he was sitting. "We will keep you warm and comfy!"
It seems, Fyodor also liked the idea of you staying home. Unfortunately, you are needed. You will be an 'anchor' for Mori. Without you, he will go overboard with shopping and at the end of the day, instead of one adult, one teen and one child, three piles of bags will return home. You shake your head.
"Sorry, but I still must go. But I need help."
You explained, in a few words, what you need.
"So, can you two, please, go to my old apartment and take the package?"
Fyodor and Nikolai looked at each other, the Fyodor nodded.
"No problems, Myshonok. Just in case, should we check, what inside the package? To make sure it isn't damaged?"
You shrugged.
"Why not? Thanks, both of you. If you need anything, just call me."
You left the living room.
And soon you, Karma, Elise and Mori left the house.
Fifteen minutes later, Fyodor and Nikolai left to your old apartment.
______
You finally were back from your shopping trip. All of you get what you need and had lunch in a small restaurant.
You were ready to go to your room, when noticed, that there was a note on your bedroom door.
"[Y/N], please, go to my room. I will give you back your package. Fyodor D. P.S.: It would be nice to spend time together. You, Kolya and I."
You smiled. It was good, that everything went well. You decide to agree to spend some time with Fyodor and Nikolai as a 'thank you' for getting the package.
You walk into your room and changed in a what you call 'shuggly clothes for Fedya and Kolya'.
You were wearing a mouse kigurumi and a scarf, that Kolya gave you.
After getting ready, you go to Fyodor's room.
______
Something feels wrong.
Fyodor was unusually quiet. He locked the door behind you. Kolya wasn't here.
And something was laying behind Fedya's bed.
Fyodor turned towards you. His expression was neutral.
"Myshonok... Your package is here."
You nervously gulped. Did someone send something bad to you?
Fyodor took a piece of paper from his desk and hold it towards you.
"It came with the package."
You read the text.
And you were mortified.
You remembered ordering two dakimakuras almost a year ago. And lost package. And the prints.
You whined and looked at Fyodor.
He was holding them in his hands.
They were soft. They were real. They were in your house, and you don't have any idea what to do with them.
Fyodor were holding two big dakimakuras.
You take a step back. Only to crash into someone else's chest. You don't need to be a genius, to realize, that you were trapped between Fyodor and Nikolai.
Fyodor nodded a little.
Suddenly, a blanket was draped over you. And Nikolai was wrapping it around you tighter and tighter.
Five minutes later, everything was over.
_____
You were laying on Fyodor's bed. You were wrapped in a blanket. Like a candy. And you were stuck between Fyodor and Nikolai.
Fyodor was laying in front of you. His hand caress your face, slowly massaging it
Nikolai was laying behind you. He was spooning you, nibbling your earlobe from time to time.
And you feel, like you were on fire. They were so close. They were so soft.
And they were teasing.
Nikolai let go of your ear and whispered right into it.
"Tell me, Birdy, will this pillow ever kiss you during cuddles?" he returned to nibbling on your ear. You whimper.
"N-no, Kolya..."
Nikolai laughed and start paying attention to the spot right behind your ears.
You felt Fyodor's warm breath on your face. You close your eyes and his fingers started massaging your eyelids.
"Myshonok, will this pillow ever give you a massage during cuddles?"
You whimper again.
"No..."
Fyodor didn't answer, but, instead, softly kissed your eyelids.
Meanwhile, Nikolai chuckled.
"So, one point to us. No points to pillows. Next round."
Position was changed.
Now you were laying face to face with Nikolai. You felt Fyodor's breath on your neck, before he starts leaving small kisses on it. Nikolai's fingers run up and down your scalp, massaging it.
And you feel even more embarrassed.
Fyodor spoke again.
"So, do you want to explain, what the deal with the pillows?"
Once again, without waiting for your answer, Fyodor continues to lightly kiss your neck.
You spoke. Your voice was trembling.
"I... I didn't know... that you were self-aware... Order them almost a year ago... Forgot about it..."
Nikolai playfully boops your nose.
"And didn't know about the bonus pillow cases."
You nod. You feel even warmer now. Fyodor and Nikolai laughed. Fyodor started nibbling on your ear.
"I am not asking about that, Myshonok."
You were pretty sure, that you became ad hot as desert sand.
"I... I was so lonely... Before you arrived. I wanted to... Pretend, that I have someone in my life."
They were quiet. Then you felt Fyodor's lips on your cheek.
"Than today we will show you, that you will never be alone again, Myshonok"
Nikolai kissed the corner of your mouth.
"Don't worry, Birdy, we will take care of you. Just enjoy the warmth. And forget about the pillows."
Nikolai's grin became sly.
"But, please, remember, did you order pillow with us with... Adult print?"
You let out a muffled scream, hiding your face in Nikolai's chest.
You had a feeling, that they will never forget about dakimakuras.
______
What came next, you can describe with only one word. Heaven. Almost.
Without teasing about prints on pillows, it would be even grater.
You were warm.
You were cuddling with Fyodor and Nikolai.
One moment you were laying on Fyodor's chest, and he was showering your forehead in kisses.
The second moment, you were pressed against Nikolai's chest and he was kissing your hands.
You were pampered. You were caressed.
You weren't alone.
You fall asleep between Fyodor and Nikolai.
Safe. Sound. Not alone.
#self-awareau#self-awarebsd#bungou stray dogs au#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd anime#bsd x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader#self awarebsd#self aware Fyodor Dostoevsky#self Aware Nikolai Gogol#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#bsd fyodor dostoevsky#bsd fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor x reader#dostoevsky x reader#bsd dostoevsky#nikolai gogol x reader#bsd nikolai gogol#bsd nikolai#nikolai x reader#gogol x reader#bsd gogol#bungou stray dogs gogol
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Javier Peña req (and Steve as bestie). Y/n is their partner and is feeling extremely burnt out; running on empty, coffee, cigarettes and not much else. She’s barely sleeping or eating and constantly has a tight chest and racing heart. They both know something is up with her but she just shrugs it off until one day, Javi is out on a raid and she reaches her breaking point. Steve manages to get her home but can’t reach Javi until he gets back to the embassy etc. Also, please could you throw in a little Carrillo cause😍
Burned Out (Javier Peña x F!Reader)
A/N: I’ve missed Narcos and my DEA boys, so thank you for this prompt, whoever sent this in. I really appreciate it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump recently with writing for this blog, so it’s great to have something to focus on and pour myself in to - hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: Swearing, smoking, alcohol, reference to depressive / self destructive behaviour, description of a panic attack, mild smut, canon-typical violence, death, reference to drugs / overdosing.
Masterlist
You knew exactly when it started. When you began to feel yourself beginning to sink downwards into the quicksand that was your life.
It was a bad day… well, a worse day, if you were being honest, given that life in general in Bogota was hard and full of bad days that left you feeling numb inside. Whereas you were normally able to banish the darkness by spending time with the friends you had collected since your arrival to the city, not even Javi’s gentle kisses or Steve’s dirty jokes or Connie’s homemade deserts could do the trick.
The day had been bad for many reasons.
One, you’d lost a contact with direct links to Escobar, that you’d spent weeks working on.
Two, you had lost them in a drive-by shooting that had killed not only them but countless civilians too.
Three, some of your asshole colleagues decided to spill coffee all over your files meaning you were forced to work late to re-type them up for a briefing the following morning. Even though you had got it done, you knew you had likely missed some details, the ink far too smudge to even begin to try and understand what had previously been written.
However, that day had only been the start of it. The start of the downwards spiral you found yourself tumbling into.
Sure, the others had noticed there was a change about you. Yet, it wasn’t as if they knew what was causing it or how to fix it.
Javi especially knew what you were like - you were like him after all. Spilling your guts wasn’t your natural reaction to handling things. You kept your emotions bottled up inside of you, cramming more and more in, forcing that lid to remain firmly screwed in place even as the pressure began to build.
And if the lid did threaten to pop off? Well then, you lost yourself in him. In the love that existed between you, and the intimate knowledge you shared of one another. After all, Javi had said it himself, “who needed therapy when you had sex and good whiskey?”
A night of passionate fucking was all it took to take the edge off… to let a little pressure escape, delaying your inevitable eruption… But that was just it; you would erupt. It was inevitable. There was no way on earth you could sustain the relentless routine of long hours spent at work, with coffee doing its best to act as a replacement for your bed.
Hell, you could feel the toll it was taking on you both mentally and physically, from the way your hands shook slightly, to the way your chest felt too tight to breathe sometimes. Then there was the fact your clothes were starting to get baggy, whereas they’d once clung to your frame like they’d been tailored for you.
“Here,” Javi had smiled one afternoon. You could smell the sandwich in his hand before he even set it down on the desk in front of you, accompanied by a packet of chips and a can of your favourite soda. “Grabbed that for you on our way back. Figured you’d forget lunch - again.”
A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the kind gesture. “Thanks, Javi.”
“Anytime, hermosa.” He said it so calmly and easily that you felt your heart skip a beat as you realised how lucky you were to have someone who cared about you so deeply. It was why you made sure to tear a corner off of the sandwich and pop it in your mouth.
The relieved nod Javi granted you told you it was the reaction he’d been waiting for, as he took a step back to let you finish eating and working in peace.
You knew he’d be back to check you’d finished it in a matter of minutes. So, you were quick to chuck the rest of his lunch in the waste paper bin behind you, burying it further under a pile of discarded documents you’d already finished looking through.
It was fine. You’d eat later. Maybe you’d even try and cook dinner for you and Javi… an apology for being so distant lately…
Somehow, despite lacking the gift of prophecy, you knew deep down that that was unlikely to happen. Just as you knew it was unlikely Javi would even make it home tonight. For the last week straight, both he and Steve had been called out on some last minute, late night errands by Carillo - not that you minded all that much.
Not having Javi’s arms to fall into meant you felt less guilty about working late yourself. About only making it back to your empty apartment long enough for a quick shower and a power nap each night.
It was ironic to think of Carillo, though, given that your brief conversations with the Colonel in question had been the closest you’d come to finally releasing some of the hurt and the pain inside of you.
You didn't know what it was about him, but somehow, the Colonel had an ability to draw you out. To make you open up and share things you would never otherwise dream of.
Maybe it was his candour? You’d noticed that about him since you'd started working together; he had a blunt demeanour, saying what he thought regardless of the affect it could have on another person.
Now, it wasn't done with malice, per say, but rather as the result of a man who had the weight of an entire army on his shoulders and an impossible task. He just didn't have the time to bullshit anyone - especially when you both lived in a city full of people all too willing to lie and cheat.
It also came from a weird sense of respect, of seeing people as equals, deserving of the truth just as he expected the same in return. No matter how painful it may be.
Needless to say, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to respect the man - and dare you even say, like.
Still, when he decided to loiter on the other side of your desk, late one night, you felt yourself stiffen, as if suddenly all too aware of every little gesture your body made and what it gave away.
The Colonel missed nothing.
“You look like shit.”
Wow. Don’t beat around the bush.
“Jeez, your wife married a charmer, Colonel,” you scoffed, dragging on your cigarette, sparing him a fleeting glance. “Speaking of, doesn’t she want you back home? Or do you prefer my company that much that you’d rather stand at my desk at 11 o’clock at night?”
“She’s out of the city, visiting her parents,” he rebuffed, clearly not taking the bait as he dropped into the empty seat opposite. In fact, he decided to reach across and steal one of the cigarettes from the packet on your desk, lighting it for himself in a gesture that made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere for now.
“Good for her.”
“Yes, it is. I think time away from this place is good for everyone.”
You could feel the accusation lacing his words, as well as the heat from his continuous stare. “Then why didn’t you go with her? Not enough vacation days?”
He scoffed, a bitter smirk twisting his lips upwards. “You’re funny; I can see why Peña likes you so much. Like calls to like, as they say, even if you try and hide it behind that smile of yours.”
You bit back a laugh. “What can I say? I lucked out in that department and got my Mom’s smile. My sister was not so fortunate. She always had my dad’s features - meaning she looked more often than not like she was sucking on a lemon.”
“This is the sister that died from an overdose, correct?”
“Yes.”
“The anniversary is this week, is it not?”
He asked it so calmly and casually that anyone would have thought he’d asked you what the weather was like outside, or what your favourite record to listen to was.
At least his concern now made sense. It was the kind of detail he would remember, and you were honestly more surprised by the fact it had taken until now for him to bring it up.
He’d probably been itching to ask you about it all day, aware of the date even if your two partners were not. Well, they might have been, but neither had said anything which was your preference if you were being honest. Hence your rapidly cooling demeanour towards your colleague.
“I’m fine, if that’s what you're trying to fish about for, Colonel,” you sighed, staring back down at your desk again in an attempt to dismiss him. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m good. Thanks. So can I get back to work in peace? Or did you have some other question for me?”
Carillo sighed, simply choosing to smoke his cigarette, letting the tension linger along with the steadily growing haze around you both.
He didn't need to say the words aloud; his actions did all the talking for him as he reached over and helped himself to a file off of you desk.
He didn't buy this ‘calm, cool, and collected’ act you were pedalling. Not for a second - something his stare alone gave away, even if he refused to say it. Instead, he chose to read, and work, and smoke along side you so that you would not be alone.
He had his eyes on you... watching and waiting for the moment that your carefully constructed walls came crashing down... the only question was would they crush you in the process?
It was about a month later that the inevitable happened; that you finally hit rock bottom.
It had just been a causal remark that did it, of all things. A casual remark that sent you tipping over the edge.
You had just returned from lunch and hadn’t even sat back down at your desk yet when you noticed that someone was missing.
“Yo, Steve?” you queried, quickly glancing up at the empty seat next to you. “Where did Javi go?”
Now, you couldn't be a hundred percent certain what Steve said next but you knew he’d said something about Carillo, a lead, and a raid ...
“What?”
“I said, Javier went with him,” Steve repeated, staring at you with growing concern. You realised he must have already repeated himself. “What? Why? What is it?”
“Javi went too? He… he’s there? On that raid?”
“Yes, y/n, that’s what I just said - hey! Where you going?”
You didn’t even realise your feet had started moving, not until you heard Steve’s confusion as he yelled after you.
But you didn't stop.
You couldn’t stop, not until you were outside - not until you were far enough from that place that you could actually stop and fucking breathe.
When did it become so hard to breathe?
When had the room become so small?
Why did your mind suddenly feel the need to go to the darkest place possible?
It was just a raid... one of hundreds Javi had gone on since arriving here in the country, just as you had also gone on your fair share. So why was your head suddenly picturing him... lying there... injured, or worse... dead.
The number of bodies you’d stared at, lying in the streets in a macabre tableau that had become all too familiar by now - all part of this fucking job. A job you signed up for, hoping to vanquish the bastards who had taken so much from you and those you loved… yet, every day, it seemed you had failed as more and more innocent people suffered… and to think, that Javi - the man you loved more than anything - who you had neglected terribly to the point you couldn't actually remember the last time you’d woken up next to each other - could be amongst them…
It brought you to your knees.
“Whoah, y/n. Easy. What’s wrong?”
Steve’s voice sounded distant, as if you have been submerged beneath water. Yet, you could tell he was beside you, dropping down onto the kerb before hauling you close. The warmth of his touch was enough to tether you to him, to reality, as everything around you seemed to spin in dizzying circles.
You could feel it as his hands rose, cupping your cheeks, turning your head and trying to get you to look at him.
When you finally did, he could see immediately that your eyes were glassy, like you weren’t really seeing or hearing him.
He knew that look.
“Y/N,” Steve murmured in a soothing voice. “Y/N, look at me. Look at me.”
He paused, waiting until your eyes trained themselves on his face, some of the cloudiness starting to dissipate.
“Good, that’s good. Now breathe. Just breathe,” he instructed, taking a few deep breaths himself to show you how.
It took you a moment or two, but you eventually became fully aware of your surroundings and what your friend was telling you to do.
Following his lead, you took a few shuddering breaths, then a few more. You kept breathing until you could feel the racing of your heart slow and the fear that had felt crippling just moments before begin to ease.
You were exhausted.
Wiping at your face, you tried to banish the tears that had left a salty trail burning down your cheek.
Steve doesn't say anything for a long minute, instead choosing to pull you into his side and light up a cigarette, which he was quick to offer you.
“T... thank you.”
You sat like that for a while... just watching people and cars passing by, smoking like two people on a perfectly ordinary break.
No one bothered to stop and ask you two questions. Hell, no one even shot a glance in your direction, everyone too busy with their own business to stop and give a shit about yours.
So you sat.
And smoked.
And said nothing... not until the cigarette was nothing more than a stub.
Steve was quick to take it from you, before it could burn your fingers. Tossing it aside, it had clearly served its purpose.
He stood and offered you a hand.
His face left no room for debate as he stated calmly, “Come on, I’m taking you home. Now.”
“Come on. A couple more steps, Y/N,” Steve urged, guiding you up the stairs to your apartment.
His hand was warm, firm even, as it pressed against your lower back.
He’d been like this since the moment you’d left the embassy, steering you and hovering over you like he expected you to simply topple over at the slightest breeze.
It was touching, yet irritating all at once - a sentiment you were too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other to even attempt to unpack. You were also just too goddamn tired.
“Here we are.” Steve’s words startled you. “Home sweet home.”
You didn’t remember giving him the keys, but you must have as he opened the door a second later and herded you inside.
There was emotion in your throat - threatening to spill from you. You were holding on by a thread and he knew it. Just as Carillo knew it, and possibly Connie too -
Wait, Connie?
You blinked as you realised that at some point the woman had also entered your home, most likely having been summoned by Steve on the drive home.
You wanted to feel guilty at the thought of her being dragged into your mess, but you were honestly too tired to feel anything other than grateful as she hurried over to you, offering you a cup of what you assumed was tea, as well as two pills.
To help take the edge off, she explained, urging you to take them. Doctor’s orders.
It was impossible to miss the way that they were both staring at each other - sharing anxious glances as you swallowed the tablets and dutifully sipped the tea.
They were worried about you. Hell, you were worried about you, and Javi, and Steve, and everyone else you loved and cared about - that was what had got you in this mess in the first place.
Damn it.
You heard them say as much as you marched yourself to your bedroom, claiming you were going to try and get some rest whilst you waited for news.
If they bought it, you couldn’t tell, but neither protested as you left them.
They simply let you go, allowing you the space and privacy to crawl into your bedroom, bury yourself in the unmade sheets, and lie down for a while. The medication had clearly started to work as you felt heavy... tired...
Lying there, you could hear their voices... faint murmurs drifting down the hall.
You caught only snippets as they tried and failed to keep their voices down, just as your parents had once done when you were just a kid. Still, despite their efforts, you caught enough to know that there was still no word from Javi, or about the raid he went on.
“-called Javi- no reply.”
“Carillo - try again -”
“-worried about her - stressed.”
Eventually, the words began to fade away, replaced instead by your body's sudden need to sleep. It was pointless to fight the drugs now in your system, or the comfort of being wrapped in the bed sheets that still smelled of Javi... not even you were strong enough to fight it as you felt yourself drifting off into sweet oblivion.
"Sweetheart?"
You must have still been dreaming - that was the thought that crossed your mind as you swore you heard Javi's voice.
"Javi?" you moaned, fighting against the grogginess that greeted you as you tried to open your eyes.
Despite the fact it was clearly now dark out, you could easily make out the face in front of you, illuminated from behind by the bedside lamp. The sight was almost angelic - as if some divine being had deigned to answer your prayers and return the love of your life back in to your arms.
“It's ok, I'm here, sweetheart,” Javi purred again, brushing your hair back behind your ear and pulling you close. “I’m right here, ok? In one piece - promise. The raid went off without a hitch. Even snagged ourselves a new asset for you to take a crack at.”
Your eyes shimmered with tears as you quickly burrowed into his chest. You didn't really hear what he was saying, too busy focusing on the fact that he was here to say it at all - here - alive - in your arms.
The reality hit you as you began to let it pour out of you: how relieved you were, how much you loved him. You also grumbled something about fucking telling you when he next decided to run off on a raid without so much as 'goodbye' - else you’d shoot him yourself.
“I’m sorry, carino. I am.”
And you believed him.
"I love you, Javi. So much."
"I love you too," he purred, "and I'm so sorry, I knew you were struggling, but when Steve told me-"
He didn't get to finish whatever the hell he'd been about to say. You didn't let him.
Instead, your lips surged hungrily towards his and as only Javi could, he kissed you back, soft and slow... as if desperate to reassure you through actions alone.
You felt him chuckle into your mouth as you grew impatient, grinding your hips against him in a silent plea for him to fill you. To join you. To bury himself, and the day you'd both had, in a moment of bliss.
It was a special kind of neediness, reserved for just him, and one that was only sated once he had fully joined with you, as one being. Safe. Whole.
Yes, in an ideal world he would have waited until after talking to you to lose himself in such a way. After all, Steve and Connie had filled him in on the troubling turn of events that his absence today had triggered - and he'd be lying if he said the idea didn't scare him shitless, that you had broken down so completely...
He could only thank God that Steve had been there for you - especially when he couldn't be himself.
But he was here now... and you had time to start trying to make sense of this mess. Together. Carillo had assured him of that, informing him in no uncertain terms that you both had the next few days off from work. He didn't want to see either one of you back in the office until you'd begun to sort through the mountain of shit you were buried under.
So, yes. If you wanted to lose yourself for tonight, to use him to forget the world outside for a perfect moment, then he was only too happy to oblige.
He’d wait until the morning to have a proper conversation.
He’d go down and whip you up some breakfast before trying to get you to open up to him about everything that had happened today… about the worries and concerns you’d been keeping locked away inside of you.
Then, after you’d fallen in to pieces in his arms, he could try and start to put you back together again. As a team.
#narcos masterlist#narcos fanfic#narcos imagine#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader#steve murphy#connie murphy#colonel carrillo#colonel carillo#ithebookhoarder#masterlist#thesilentmage#pedro pascal
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Bug Boys X Reader who has to take exams on their birthday 🎂
(another request submitted by a lovely anon!! hope I'm not too late 💕 happy birthday, love!)
John
he'll try to talk to you while you're studying but realizes you're too engrossed in your books to even lift your head and acknowledge him
he decides to try a different approach, snickering as he scribbles silly (and often dirty) notes onto pieces of paper
he folds them into paper aeroplanes and sails them across the room, almost always striking you in the head
he loves to see the look on your face and hear your laughter fill the room when you open and read them, becoming red-faced and flustered
On the day of the tests, John arrives at your doorstep with a paper bag in hand. "Hey there, birthday braniac! Ready to conquer those exams?"
He hands you the bag and you examine it, realizing he's packed you a homemade lunch. It's just a simple sandwich and some crisps, but it's made with lots of love and he's done his best. He offers his arm to you and you link it with yours as he guides you out of the doorway and down the sidewalk. The two of you wander through the streets, John easing your nerves with playful banter the whole way.
When you reach the exam hall, he squeezes your hand and whispers: "You've got this, love. Knock 'em dead."
Not long after, you come to find he's slipped a note into the lunchbag - a small piece of paper with a shittily-drawn self portrait of him giving you a thumbs up.
☆☆☆
John arrives to pick you up after you've finished, beckoning you toward him and into his arms for a hug. When you pull away, he raises his hand to reveal two tickets to see your favorite band (other than the Beatles, of course) in concert. You squeal in delight and give him a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday, love" he says, before taking your hand in his and leading you to the venue to let loose and celebrate.
Paul
in the time leading up to your final exams, Paul ensures that you're well-fed and rested while you study
he knows it can be easy to forget or set aside self-care when you're so intent on cramming
with a gentle knock on the door, Paul enters your room carrying a tray laden with delicious goodies
"I made your favorite! Fuel up, love."
he'll play soft melodies on his piano to provide some background noise and hopefully help you focus
On the day of your exams, Paul pulls up in his sleek vintage car, the soft strains of a love song playing over the radio. With a charming smile, he opens the passenger door and extends a hand to you. "Hop in," he instructs with a flirtatious wink. You drive through the city streets, all the while Paul sings along to the radio and serenades you with sweet lyrics. As you arrive at your destination, he leans in close and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. "You're going to do brilliantly, love."
☆☆☆
Once you're finished he arrives to pick you up, a bouquet of fragrant flowers in hand. You approach him, smiling softly, and he places a gentle hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a passionate kiss. "Happy birthday, darling."
You begin to notice he's taking a familiar route, realizing at last that he's brought you to your favorite restaurant for a romantic candlelit birthday dinner. You enjoy a three-course meal along with dessert, heading home to end the day with some cuddles and relaxation.
George
throughout the weeks leading up to your exams, George helps you stay centered and focused while you study
he'll enter your room in silence and sit down beside you, handing you a steaming cup of herbal tea
"Feeling nervous?" he asks softly, and you nod
"Remember, this is just a temporary challenge. Focus on the present and let your intuition guide you."
he provides a sense of calm and serenity amidst the chaos of cramming and deadlines
George doesn't "help" you study, per se, but tries to manifest a good outcome for you
in his mind's eye, he envisions you stepping into the exam room with confidence and determination, ready to tackle any challenging questions that may come your way
When the day comes, George arrives at your door with a single red rose in hand, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I thought you may need a bit of a good luck charm," he says playfully, offering you the rose. He takes your free hand in one of his, squeezing it gently.
Together, you walk through the quiet streets, George's presence a source of comfort and security. As you come up on the exam hall, he gazes into your eyes and speaks softly. "You've got this, dear. I believe in you."
☆☆☆
When George arrives to collect you after your exams, he walks up to greet you. With a gentle touch, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and gives you a soft kiss. "Well done, gorgeous. Happy birthday."
As he walks, you fall into step behind him, telling him all about your experience and how you feel the tests went when the two of you come upon a strange dome-shaped building. He's taken you on a surprise trip to the planetarium! The calming visuals and dark atmosphere help you to relax as you fixate on the captivating show. George knew just what you needed to unwind and celebrate at the end of a long and stressful day.
Ringo
when you tell him about your upcoming finals, Ringo helps you to organize your study materials and create a schedule
he wants to make sure you still have time for fun and relaxation during this hectic time
he'll eagerly offer to be your study buddy if you need someone to read material aloud or quiz you
he makes the most adorable flashcards, complete with colorful pictures to help you remember complicated subjects
Ringo brings a sense of joy and lightheartedness to your study sessions that helps you destress and shift focus away from your worries
When the day finally arrives, Ringo pulls up on his motorcycle, the engine rumbling softly beneath him. With a cheeky grin, he offers you a helmet and gestures for you to hop on.
Together, you ride through the winding roads, the wind whipping through your hair. Ringo's laughter and singing fills the air, and his carefree attitude puts your mind at ease like nothing else can.
As you pull up to the exam venue, he smiles warmly and leans in close. "You're going to ace this, love. Just remember, I'll be waiting to celebrate with you after."
☆☆☆
When you're finally finished, you exit the building with a deep breath followed by a sigh of relief. Ringo speeds around the corner on his motorbike, coming to an abrupt stop in front of you. When he finally stalls and you're able to getter a better look, you notice that numerous bags hang from the handlebars, filled with colorful tissue paper. "Happy happy birthday, sweetheart!" he calls, offering the helmet to you once again and motioning you to take your seat behind him.
You arrive home to even more gifts scattered about your dining room table, a lone cupcake in the middle with a candle planted firmly in the center. A giant teddy, seated in one of the chairs, wears a striped party hat. The remainder of the evening is filled with hugs and kisses as you unwrap the many thoughtful gifts Ringo has picked out for you, cherishing each and every one.
#the beatles#beatles#beatles x reader#beatles imagines#the beatles x reader#john lennon#john lennon x reader#john lennon imagines#paul mccartney x reader#paul mccartney imagines#paul mccartney#george harrison x reader#george harrison#george harrison imagines#ringo starr#ringo starr x reader#ringo starr imagines#richard starkey#headcanons#exams#LMLBeatles
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Tiny Books Bang 2023
Wheeeee so the Renegade Bindery server had a Tiny Books Bang challenge where there's a typesetter and binder exchange thing of books sized quarto and below, and I got a Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries epistolary fic typseset by @ashmouthbooks so OF COURSE I HAD TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE A LETTER. AN OCTAVO SIZED LETTER (I attempted to fashion the covers into an envelope closure but that took too much time and effort to pull off, so no)
Definitely did a 2-day deep dive into period accurate stamps, had to print out the stamp onto sketch paper, carefully sanded down the back side edges sit it sits nice and flush. Spine is just homemade black bookcloth. For the cover, I printed onto brown sugar paper, then gave it a layer of acrylic sealer before attempting to align it, poorly on one copy so I kept that one lol.
Inside, endpapers are these lovely chiyogami I bought a pack of a while back, and 78gsm cream paper. Made endbands by using the leftover chiyogami trimmings and gluing them around a core of leather.
Some in-progress shots:
Then I bubble wrapped it and sent it off nearly halfway across the world! Where it arrived safely! (was I mother henning the tracking link, maybe)
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Willow Wings Witch Shop - New Merch Drop!
September is here and it's finally time for some new additions to the shop! One is an item I've had on my market table for a while now and the other is a charm I've been working to perfect for several months. Let's meet the new arrivals!
New Home Powder
A formula tailor-made to assist with spells designed to find ideal or improved living conditions. The ingredients are chosen to attract the ideal property or circumstance, to avoid scams and deception, and to increase the chances of success once your offer is made. Pairs well with Home Blessing Powder.
Focus Mini Bottle Charm
This one's for all my witches who have difficulty quieting their minds or getting their scattered and busy brains stay on task. The peaceful turquoise crystal calls to mind a pool of still water, while the clarifying properties of rosemary and green tea help to keep you on task, whether it's magical workings or mundane matters. Yes, that's right - it's Hocus Focus.
Don't forget to use code HOCUSFOCUS for 20% off new and featured items all month long!
New entries in the Enchanted Items collection will now also be given their own individual catalog listings, rather than being variations under one entry. This will make things easier to find for shop visitors and new merchandise easier to spotlight for me. I'll be making updates to existing listings as I restock or feature items for the monthly showcase.
I've also added links to the podcast, Redbubble, and Patreon pages on the header menu to help customers find the show, buy merch, and support my projects. I'm also working on an ongoing Events calendar that will be added to the shop and my Wordpress once it's ready.
Speaking of events, CritWitchCon 2024 is coming up soon! I hope everyone has their tickets, but if you don't, there's still plenty of time to sign up with either the Full Access or Super Saver options. You can register and check out the full agenda here. Join us on Zoom on Sept 27th-29th for a weekend of magic and mayhem with everyone's favorite coven of common sense!
See you there!
#witchblr#witchcraft#witch community#witch shop#witchy things#charms#spells#potions#Willow Wings Witch Shop
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FIC: The Best Gift
Title: The Best Gift Author/Artist: tansyuduri Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur Prompt: Arthur struggles to make a homemade gift for his boyfriend, Merlin. Word Count: 4723 Rating: Teen and Up Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. Notes: Calamity Talvi Summary As Yule arrives in the modern world. Returned Arthur Pendragon decides to make a handmade gift for the man he loves; Merlin. The Problem? He is apparently HORRIBLE at crafts. Set in the word of my "A land of Modernity, A time of Magic" between the second and third fics, this is a brief silly look at Yule in Modern Camelot.
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60894586
#winterknights#merlin#merthur#merlin fanfic#character: arthur#character: merlin#pairing: merlin/arthur#rating: teen and up#winterknights 2024
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Sheikah!Link finally gets a name!!!
Bones.
Very creative, I know. But! For now, have the tidbit of character lore that is the poor bugger is really, really bad at keeping secrets. Really bad. Won’t possibly backfire when working on the same team as Pink Link, who is a professional at sniffing out secrets and dragging them out into the light.
Not at all.
Additionally, he gets to be the biggest flirt in the team, for all he has less than a 5% success rate. It will frustrate him when the Heroes who are completely oblivious start outdoing him in performance, but he’ll get over it. Eventually….
#loz#the legend of zelda#loz fanart#zelda fancomic#legend of zelda#loz link#gates of courage au#the arrival of yet more homemade links
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Tiny Spark, Mighty Flame
Sterek || eventual Alpha Werewolf Stiles [ao3]
Among born werewolves, it was common knowledge that the prime age for a human to endure the bite of an Alpha and survive was typically during their teenage or young adult years. In fact, the youngest recorded case of a bite resulting in a transformation and not death was previously eleven years old, so imagine the Hale pack’s astonishment when they learned of a small seven year old who was bitten and miraculously survived, challenging the known boundaries of possibility.
Chapter 3 - Friction's Inferno
The table was laden with sizzling meats and a medley of fresh ingredients. The savory scents of beef, chicken, and shrimp mingled with the aroma of grilled bell peppers and onions, promising the delectable flavors of the homemade fajitas Elijah whipped up with Cora’s assistance.
As Claudia and Elijah set about helping Stiles and Cora serve their plates, Noah turned to greet Dr. Deaton who had arrived while they were upstairs. “I take it you’re a werewolf, too?” he asked with a resigned look on his face.
“Oh, no,” Deaton replied quietly. “I am as human as you are.”
Noah’s face scrunched up in confusion.
“Alan is our pack’s emissary,” Talia told them from the head of the table.
“Emissary?” Claudia asked. “Like, a pack ambassador or something?”
Deaton smiled mysteriously, “Of sorts.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Noah blurted out. He already felt out of his depths, which is something Noah does NOT like to feel, especially when it comes to his family. As this little boy’s dad, Noah was supposed to have all the answers and make him feel safe, but Noah hasn’t been able to provide that ever since his son was bitten by a real life werewolf , which shouldn’t even be a real thing. This little meeting was supposed to be for answering the questions he and his family had about this whole situation they suddenly found themselves in, and now this, apparently human, vet decided this was the time to be vague and mysterious? Fuck that.
Claudia, sensing his rising tension, reached over to put a hand on his.
“What he means,” Talia said, giving Deaton a swift look before making firm eye contact with Noah, “is that as pack emissary, yes, he is an ambassador for the pack with other werewolf packs and acts as our link to the human world. He helps to smooth over any issues the pack might have to deal with, and he works to keep the supernatural secret from the majority of humans.”
“Why does the supernatural world have to stay a secret from humans?” Claudia asked.
Noah didn’t like the looks Talia, Elijah, and Deaton exchanged with each other.
Elijah put his hands together under his chin and sighed, “People don’t always trust what they don’t understand.”
Talia put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck as the pair exchanged commiserating smiles. “There’s already an unfortunate number of people out there who already know that we exist and hate us simply for existing.”
“Hunters,” Laura muttered.
Noah’s heart clenched at the thought as he looked over at his son’s wide brown eyes. Claudia’s hand tightened in his grasp.
“Like, werewolf hunters?” Stiles’s little voice piped up. “That’s a real thing?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Talia said gently. “However, they live by a code,” she continued. “They are to only hunt those that cause harm to innocents.”
As a man of the law, that didn’t sit right with Noah.
[continue reading on ao3]
#sterek#my writing#mywriting#eternalsterek#werewolf stiles#werewolf stiles stilinski#derek hale#the hale pack#hale family feels#laura hale#talia hale#papa hale#cora hale#claudia stilinski#noah stilinski#sheriff stilinski#sterek fanfic#teen wolf
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It's one little sneeze
A response to a request from @iloveslasher
Spring has arrived in Volterra. The trees are starting to bloom, then the blooms will fall when the leaves begin to grow to take their place. The air is filled with excitement while the human citizens of the city begin to plan several upcoming festivals. Unfortunately for you, with Spring comes sneezing fits. Your mates are vampires, the three leaders of the Volturi coven.
It was during one of the castle tours. You got in for free, thanks to a woman named Heidi, but found yourself about to be attacked mid-tour. Except for the quick reflexes from the tall man sitting on a dais where three thrones were, you might have died. The masters took you in and discovered their link to you. Marcus had seen the bonds first, telling both Aro and Caius you had to stay. He warned them not to harm you, but to offer you a home here, with them as your mates, and for the meantime, as a human. You were grateful when you heard that. But now that Spring was here, you wondered if that was such a smart idea. You suffered from allergies, and would sneeze whenever a breeze blew through the garden. Any irritant would set you off actually, but this was your first Spring in Italy.
The Volturi had defeated werewolves, immortal children, and the entire Romanian coven. Yet these ancients, these super-educated men, these police of the vampire community, your loving mates for many months...find themselves flummoxed by a sneeze.
The strange thing was your sneezes were like that of a baby. Tight, quiet, and at times, they had almost a musical quality to them. It wasn't that you tried to hold them in. They just came out as tiny sneezes.
When Aro had first heard the sound, he looked around the throne room from the table where he had been sifting through some old manuscripts. The smallest bit of dust from them set off a sneezing fit in you. He flashes to your side. "What is that noise?"
"I'm sorry, Aro. I...I...*hu...he...*snirt* The dust from your old books made me sneeze," you explain, before sneezing again and wiping your nose.
Aro's eyes go wide. "If you are ill, then you should be in bed." Before you can object, he picks you up in his arms and runs quickly to his rooms. All the while, you protest this is normal for you and that you're not ill. Once in his rooms that he sometimes shares with you, Aro takes you to the bedroom, removes your shoes, and orders you to undress, picking out a nightgown from one of your drawers. He hands it to you and once you've put it on, he tucks you into bed.
You sneeze again, the sound muffled naturally.
Marcus has entered Aro's bedroom, having heard the sounds when they originated from the throne room. Seeing Aro, he flashes to his brother's side. "Is something wrong with our mate, Aro? What is that sound she's making?"
"She says nothing is wrong, Marcus. It's normal," he pronounces doubtfully, emphasizing the word "normal".
Caius storms in a few minutes later, concern on his youthful face. "What is going on? I heard some repetitive noise coming from this room. Who is being strangled?" he demands, ready to fight for your safety.
"No one! Caius, it's just me. The dust from the old books in the throne room made me sneeze. It may sound...different, but I can't help that," you say. "My doctor says it has something to do with my lung capacity or trachea size. I'm fine though. Even if you are thousands of years old, I can't believe none of you remember what a sneeze is."
Marcus sits on the side of the bed, taking your hand in concern. "Can we get anything for you, my dear?"
"Yes, please. Tissue boxes, several. And nose spray. It might clear my sinuses." You lay back, thinking of taking the slightest advantage of your mates' distress. How long had it been since they were human? Did they really forget what a sneeze was? Were they willing to do anything you asked?
"Aro, I could use a cup of hot tea, or maybe a whole pot. And maybe a few of the chef's homemade cookies?"
"Will that help you?" he asks, worried that you might need a human physician instead.
"It can't hurt," you answer, trying to keep from smiling. "And no doctors!" You might fool the masters, but you'd never fool a real doctor.
Caius sits on the other side of the bed from Marcus, while Aro flies to the kitchen to see what the chef can make up for you.
"Is there anything we can do for you, love?"
You frown, as if in pain and ask for a movie to watch. Caius goes to the TV in the room and offers various names of films Aro has bought for you. Just as he is putting in the movie for you, Aro returns with a tray carrying a tea pot, a cup, and a plate of chocolate chip peanut butter cookies. The breeze that accompanies his speedy gait carries pollen from the garden and you begin to sneeze again.
*snirt* ahhh...oh no...he-choo!" You curse with each sneeze, holding your nose while your mates wait patiently. Marcus pours you some tea and hands you the cup. You feel miserable, but loved as you grab a cookie off the plate. The three masters join you on Aro's huge bed, and all four of you watch the movie you requested, the original version of Fright Night. It never fails to make the Volturi masters laugh.
#aro volturi#marcus volturi#caius volturi#aro volturi x reader#marcus volturi x reader#caius volturi x reader#allergies#tiny sneezes#three volturi mates x reader#volturi fanfiction
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something in the orange
bucky x witch!reader
summary: the pretty witch James met in Bucharest holds his heart. she’s been there ever since he regained his freedom, mending the soldier’s broken soul through tender loving, but if the aching suspicions deep in his bones are correct, she’ll soon become nothing more than a bittersweet memory.
warnings: angst-ish fluff, memories of trauma, a lil’ sprinkle of nsfw — implied smut
word count: 1,615
author’s note: words we never said ☾ if you enjoy listening to music while reading, please play the song je te laisserai des mots. it captures the emotion behind this perfectly:( this is a link to a post about Bucky’s Bucharest apartment, which i used for both inspiration and visualization, and absolutely recommend reading
The little apartment is enveloped in the smell of chicken noodle soup when James steps through the door, dropping a bag of plums on the sofa. Though every window is blocked out with newspapers, the dying sun manages to flicker through the pages, casting an orange glow on the single room.
On her — the girl who inadvertently saved him.
She stands by the stove in nothing but his woolen sweater. It reaches her knees, and she pushes the sleeves up to her elbows at times to prevent the edges from broth stains. The otherwise silent atmosphere is saturated in delicate sounds of piano creeping out of her broken laptop, and as the soldier continues to observe her, a bittersweet wave of emotions drowns him. Brooklyn is no longer his home, she is.
“Hi.” James chuckles softly at the sight before him.
Ancient spells books and corked glass containers clutter the counter. Bundles of herbs, dried and fresh alike, float around her as she studies the open grimoire, waving her fingers in a circular motion to stir dinner.
“Hi, bun.” She mutters without paying him a glance, hastily reading the last bit of instructions for a healing potion. “Are you feeling better?”
The witch buries her nose in the crinkled pages often. The words that lay upon the paper are peculiar to James. Dragon’s blood, wormwood, lapis lazuli are several terms he stopped seeking to understand, focusing to unravel the boundaries of the relationship between them instead. Friends was the only label ever spoken, and yet somewhere along the way of the pair’s whirlwind journey, the edges of their connection became stained.
Almost a year ago, when James stumbled into a hidden coffee shop by accident, or fate, it was unmistakable she was merely a stranger, but then she shared her cinnamon bun because he only had enough money for a cup of tea, and their destinies blurred together. She shared again and again until it was two strange months later that she announced, “we’re friends, bun,” after James questioned the reason she’d always split the pastry. Suddenly, the days were brighter, and the nights not as lonely. The shoebox of an apartment turned warm. She spent many hours exploring the world, but James would find caramel bars on his refrigerator and fresh flowers on the counter, he’d light the candles she’d accidentally leave or read the loose pages that slipped out of her journals. If his kitchen was empty of food, she’d arrive at his place with a tote of ingredients to prepare a homemade meal. James never witnessed where she sleeps most nights, except she goes thrifting a bit too much and rarely pays for bus tickets, sneaking in when the conductor isn’t looking. She has very little of her own, and she chooses to care for him in every way she’s able.
He doesn’t deserve it, he often thinks. Solitude was written in his future as a punishment for the crimes he committed. James earned to suffer in the constant chaos of his rotten mind, and he shouldn’t come home to a friend, whose cooking chicken noodle soup because the harsh Bucharest weather provoked a simple cold.
Friend. Trust was a word forgotten in his vocabulary, and she returned the meaning, melding the broken pieces of James Buchanan Barnes through tender love. Before the soldier could truly grasp the imprint she’d forever leave on his soul, he was subconsciously searching for her in the sunsets or the olden books in the city’s library, catching her in the morning’s dew or the bright stars. The diary, which stored his memories, adopted stories of her, and the single cup of coffee doubled. Gentle smiles painted over his usual frowns, and the metal arm abruptly became capable of affectionate touches.
She is not a friend, for the words he’s scared to say are I love you.
“As a matter of fact,” the soldier wraps his arms around her waist from behind before placing a tender kiss on her cheek, “yes.”
The girl melts into his embrace. While she’s a resident of the world, escaping to faraway locations when the circumstances twist sour, Bucky’s embrace is the only place in which she could ever sincerely find safety.
“Good,” she grins, turning around to capture his lips. The kiss is brief, and before James could steal another, she’s clutching a glass vial to push it into his hands. “The potion has cinnamon and ginger to relieve the cold and is infused with moonstone to banish anxiety.”
The weight of her statement rests in his stare, “anxiety?”
Caressing Bucky’s biceps through his red henley, she grimaces at the tinges of betrayal in his tone. “I promised to stay out of your head,” she begins, tracing his rigid chest muscles, “and a promise is sacred,” especially the kind a witch would grant to a former assassin, “but I can sense the anguish that plagues you without hearing, or seeing it, in the first place.”
“Oh,” James sighs, and the rest of the sentence seems to die on his tongue.
It was a foolish mistake to imagine the girl could possibly miss the wrenching concern at the pit of his stomach. James attempted to bury it, but for the last three weeks, the sorrow was evidently carved in his stiff expressions and nervous glances. She continued to revel in the pleasure of his touch, but it no longer resembled peace, tarnished with an unspoken goodbye.
And perhaps, it is. Suspicions of The Winter Soldier’s potential attacks flicker in the air as a harsh reminder — he’s a complex affair in her heart solely because the perception of James as a mindless killer remains unchanged in the eyes of others. Someone seeks to find him, whether it be the government or Steve.
“Sit,” she urges, maneuvering to locate a set of ceramic bowls.
The table bears a cheap bottle of red and two clashing glasses she thrifted. A Nokia lies atop a pack of cigarettes, and James hastily shoves it into the pocket of his jeans. It’s not the scent of tobacco on her clothing that drives him insane, but rather the scent of cinnamon underneath it, which he cannot entirely reach. She sprinkles cinnamon on coffees or oatmeal, and into the bread she makes once every blue moon. Cinnamon envelopes James in a warm hug every time the soldier smells it, and it’s frustrating how easily tobacco seems to overpower the spice.
“Did I leave the door unlocked again?” Bucky questions, messing with the wax on an empty wine bottle before he decides to ignite the candle, situated inside, using y/n’s pink lighter.
A moment of stillness settles upon the couple, and when she speaks, her voice is a lot more gentle. “On the contrary, I used alohomora,” she bites the inside of her cheek, unsure if she should say the words swirling around in her mind, “you’re healing, Buck. Sometimes the pain may distract us from miscellaneous tasks.”
Pain is the single steady matter in his prolonged lifetime. It left a gaping hole in his heart and a rooted crack in his soul without remedies to cure it. At least she silences the constant buzzing in his ears the gruesome memories bring forward and patches up the endlessly crimson wounds. Some days, James is barely a man, and yet his rain never smothers the fire within her.
“Alohomora?”
“Mmmh,” she hums, mouth entirely full of soup. It’s when she swallows does y/n genuinely answers, “alohomora is a spell in Harry Potter to pick locks.”
“Does it work in our reality?” James asks, bringing a spoonful of steaming broth to his lips. The taste is nostalgic and comforting, and it makes him briefly reminisce of every time his mom or sister would cook a chicken noodle dinner from a can.
“No,” she shakes her head and reaches for the bottle to graze his glass, “but a bobby pin does.”
“Thank you,” James chuckles as his eyes soften, “for the soup, and the potion, and—“
“Stop,” she settles on his lap, the bowl of food forgotten. “I nurture you not out of pity but rather because in you, I see myself.” A corner of her mouth quirks up into a meager smile, one James seems powerless to understand. “I was eighteen, alone, and purple with bruises the human eye cannot see.” The witch’s tone is sprightly, but the tremble in her voice unveils the bitterness of the memory. “All I craved was for someone to offer me a touch of kindness, and just maybe, a hand to hold. People help the people,” she remarks, stroking a faded scar above his eyebrow, “you shall not express gratitude for such simple actions.”
Traitor. The gravity of the word claws at his bones. James needs to speak of the burdens and of the fears tormenting his head. She would always be a temporary destination in his peculiar journey. It was etched into the stars above. The universe bestowed an angel upon evil, proposing a restrained offer set to soon expire.
James Barnes is a coward, he decides, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss instead of confessing. Clutching her hips, the soldier brings the woman closer, tracing the curves of her body to store it deep within his consciousness. She straddles him, tangling her elegant fingers in his chestnut hair.
“I like to express my gratitude,” James whispers into the crook of her neck before kissing the delicate skin, “you’re too good to me, plum.”
And when she grinds on The Winter Soldier’s hardened length, savoring the roughness of his denim jeans against her thinly covered cunt and bare thighs, she doesn’t particularly care enough to argue.
#bucky x reader#bucky x reader angst#bucky x reader fluff#bucky angst#bucky x reader smut#bucky fluff#bucky barnes x reader#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader angst#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky series#bucky x reader series#bucky barnes series#words we never said bucky x reader#something in the orange bucky x reader
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I've been making my own homemade dolls for the past year but I've been interested in bjd's do you have any basics tips? Where are the good places to get the different bodies and parts for these dolls?
hello! sorry it took a minute for me to respond to this ask but I wanted to make sure that I had enough info for you :o
as far as basic tips go, I'm not sure I can provide anything super helpful since I'm not sure exactly what kind of information you're looking for. I will say that one thing that helped me understand a lot about the sizes of dolls/how they move/what people do with them was watching videos of people with dolls. Nicole's Dreams, Teeny Tinkers, and AsenvaBJD post some fun doll content, and Teeny Tinkers also sculpts dolls :)
here is a link to a google doc with a lot of helpful information: big bjd faq . it covers a lot of stuff, and it's relatively easy to navigate since everything is linked.
i would also recommend looking into making an account on den of angels. it's a forum specifically for discussing bjds with information about dolls going all the way back to 2004, and they have a marketplace for people to sell second hand dolls. definitely read all of the rules before making an account and posting though, they can be kind of strict 😅
as far as buying dolls goes, I live in the US and have had pleasant experiences using Alice's Collections and Denver Doll Emporium (I find Alice's Collections especially nice for browsing since everything is well organized and all of the information about a doll is on its page.) I have also heard good things about Jane's Dolland, Legenddoll, and New Clover Singing.
I guess one other general tip that I can give is to try to find as much information as you can about a particular doll before you buy it (searching on den of angels, flickr, instagram, tumblr, etc.)- bjds can be pretty expensive and I've found that I have a better experience when there are as few surprises as possible when the doll arrives haha
hopefully something in here was helpful for you, sorry it's kind of long and possibly confusing :v if you have any other questions I would be happy to answer as best I can :)
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