#cause this fic will be at least 50k

[symphonic-scream]

Phantom Queers thing

So, trying to figure out a schedule for the updates. I've gotten the next two chapters done and ready to go, and I'm working through the fourth. All ten are planned out, so as long as I have the time and will to write, I will get them all done.

OKAY, the real question. Would you all prefer a chapter every week, one every two weeks or. The torture that is two a week?

[courfee]

im 15k words away from my original estimate of operation wanker but still have 3.5 chapters left to write

hmmm i think this might turn out a tiny bit longer than 75k words...

[the-kipsabian]

i love the personal thought that i had that oh yeah i could attempt to do like inktober or something daily this month

and its like 9.30pm and i havent started anything for the first day so like

goodbye to another challenge that im not gonna complete yet again i guess lmao

[thelarriefics]

FAMOUS/FAMOUS FIC REC, Part II: Below you'll find more fics where both Harry and Louis are famous. (Part I)

📖 Darling, so it goes by @disgruntledkittenface (195k)

Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance. He doesn’t think they’ll ever see each other again, but after striking up a correspondence, it turns out they have more in common than he thought. Then they start to fall for each other. Louis is different from anyone Harry has dated before and their relationship moves fast as Harry realizes he’s ready for a change. Soon Harry finds himself adapting to an entirely new life, in a country where he doesn’t know the rules, the customs, even the language. Harry is used to people underestimating him, and he’s more determined than ever to prove them wrong. He just needs Louis to meet him halfway. Grace Kelly AU.

📖 Glass Closets and Greenhouses by @tiredtiredtz (60k)

Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters. Sources close to the pair tell us the couple have been dating for a while, with rumours of house hunting, marriage and even kids on the cards! Styles, 29, is as well known for his whirlwind love life as his chart topping music. Most recently linked to British fashion designer Alex Millet-Sloan, Harry has stayed tight-lipped on rumours of any romantic rendezvous between himself and footballer Tomlinson, 31, yet fans online are convinced that all evidence points to #Tomlinstyles being the real deal.

📖 Take on Me by @haztobegood (60k)

Actor Harry Styles is preparing for his next leading role as Antonius the Gladiator with the help of Louis Tomlinson, Hollywood’s top stunt coordinator. When the demands of Harry’s career get in the way of their training, the pair head to a secluded cabin to complete their training. Then, Louis begins to share senses with Harry. What is causing this mysterious connection and can Louis and Harry figure out how to stop it before they leave the cabin?

📖 We Are World Class by @bluegreen28fics (50k)

In the midst of Louis' divorce, Harry and Louis have to keep their relationship a secret. When Harry falls pregnant, they find that this is not as easy as one might think. or, the footballer!Louis & actor!Harry AU where everyone is way too interested in their sex life.

📖 My Hands at Risk, I Fold by @yourgorgeouscolors28 (43k)

"Sometimes, when Louis first wakes up, he thinks he’s back in the hospital, and panic hits him." Or, Harry is a famous popstar, Louis is a famous football player and one injury changes everything.

📖 I Do by @brightgolden (40k)

After moving to Los Angeles when he was just eighteen years old with the hope to be a household name in Hollywood, Harry Styles finally earns himself an Oscar several years down the road. But his new found fame is rattled when he bumps into a certain Louis Tomlinson backstage after four long years. It doesn’t take beyond one coincidence for his past to catch up to him and Harry finds himself tirelessly trying to replace what he had lost.

📖 Rooms on Fire by @softfonds (34k)

Ten years ago, Louis helping Harry through a heat was the start of a romance that ended in heartbreak. Now, Harry's marriage is over thanks to his husband's very public infidelity, and Louis is fresh off a Golden Globe win. The last thing they both expect is to be cast in the same movie.

📖 Give It To Someone Special by @elsi-bee (34k)

At the behest of his agent, former child actor Louis Tomlinson signs on to star in the HeartStamp channel’s first Christmas movie featuring a same-sex love story. It may be cheesy, but at least it’s a path to get back into the industry. Now if only his co-star would stop being so critical, and confusing, and overwhelmingly distracting.

📖 My Kind of Rain by @lululawrence (30k)

Tim McGraw/Faith Hill AU where Louis is Tim, Harry is Faith, and just when Louis thinks he is going to get some rest, his entire world turns upside down thanks to the man with curly hair and the voice that seems to sing right to Louis' heart.

📖 Flowers for your crown by @dreaminrainbows (14k)

Harry has a little secret that is not really a secret and Louis is oblivious.

📖 The way you move for me baby (lights me up like nobody else) by @thechavier (12k)

"You know I wrote a song back in the day called little black dress?" He didn't imagine the little spark in his eyes, nor the pleased smirk on his lips, nor the tongue peeking out to wet them. "Why do you think I chose it for tonight?"

📖 Maybe I Miss You by @chaotic-bells (3k)

Zayn does not cope well with losing Louis' friendship.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi hi hi! I’m looking for some longer hurt/comfort fics. I love angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, anything dealing with mental illness or unwellness, things like that. Preferably over 50k! Sorry if this is super specific! Doesn’t matter if it’s an AU or canon compliant. Thank you 💗

Hello. We have #angst, #hurt/comfort, #emotional hurt/comfort, and #mental health tags so check those out. Here are some 50k+ fics, at least some of which we have recommended before. Mind the tags on these!...

Sharp Objects by ElderlySardine (M)

Back in the mid-nineties, Aziraphale and Crowley had it all. They were friends, lovers, soulmates. Life was hard, but as long as they were together it didn't matter. Then in one catastrophic fight caused by Aziraphale's cruel, coercive brother Gabriel, the whole thing came crashing down. The boys parted company for good. Now it's 2021. Life has spun Crowley and Aziraphale in very different directions before throwing them back together at their lowest ebb. Can they manage to hide their history from their new friends? Can they forgive each other, and themselves? Could there possibly still be something there between them? And with Gabriel still lurking on the horizon, will they be strong enough to do anything about it?

And There Will Be Great Lamentations by TheBobblehat (M)

It has been a month since Aziraphle has become the new Archangel of Heaven, and it's worse than he can possibly imagine. Due to Gabriel's poor management while he was in charge, Azirpahle has been playing catch-up with all the paperwork that Gabriel didn't bother to do. On top of that, while Aziraphale has a shiny new title, he still can't seem to garner the respect of his fellow Angels, and now without Crowley, is feeling more lonely than ever before. Meanwhile, on Earth, Crowley isn't doing much better. Depressed, he haunts the bookshop under the lame excuse that he's "supervising" Muriel in their new position as bookseller. That old, demonic spark has long gone, and all that's left is a very depressed, very heartbroken shell of his former self.

Hold Me Until The Morning by TheLinThing (E)

Anthony Crowley is a lot of things, but mostly single and very unhappy about it. His brain is not his best friend, and that makes it hard for him to find love. Until a certain handsome blonde walks into the gaybar he frequents, and Anthony can only hope he can keep his fears in control so they won't be interfering with his plans for this angelic man.

Tiny little fractures by Wildphoenix_ofthe80s (M)

In a human AU, Aziah Fell and Anthony Crowley meet while looking for distraction on a self harm help message board. Please pay close attention to tags, they're there to protect you.

Introduction to Philosophy – an Inter-Faculty Course by Black_Bentley (E)

Everyone who participates in the Introduction to Philosophy course regrets they chose it for an "easy credit" as one of the students is taking critical thinking to an absurd level that is going nowhere (...), while the other can’t be bothered to think for himself. It would be hilarious if they weren’t so damned annoying. As for those annoying students, Crowley falls deeply in love and Aziraphale... Aziraphale is prophesied by their fellow student Anathema to break Crowley's heart Initially started as a half-silly something inspired by this post on Tumblr*, but then it got angstier and more disturbing than the first chapters would suggest. Please, mind the tags, but I promise a happy ending! *If you ever had That Student in any Philosophy course, you know what this is about.

Free by imposterssyndrome (E)

Anthony J Crowley's been living rough since he was kicked out by his parents as a kid. Somehow he's made it to the age of 40 and he's still alive, but if you asked him, he's not really sure how the hell he's managed it. It's not been pretty. Alistair Zachariah (Az) Fell runs a bookshop, but is still under the strict yoke of his parents: their eternal disappointment. 40 years old and he's desperately unhappy and hit crisis point. They meet (again?) as inpatients in an acute mental health ward. They have nothing in common. Obviously. How could they? They're practically opposites. So why are they so drawn to one another?

- Mod D

[asha-mage]

WoT Musing: Bits and Bobs from a book nerd

A few unsorted/random thoughts from a book mega nerd about various things in the show-

It's interesting to me that they changed Logain's innate talent from being able to see ta'veren to being able to see when a man can channel or not. This is practically probably because Mat was also in that scene, but I've also noticed that they've dialed back on the use of the term 'ta'veren' as a whole this season. Probably to avoid over cluttering all the concepts their having to introduce.

Elayne's desire to work with her hands/fascination with craftsmanship showing itself in her 'sparker trick' being a weave to make alcohol is very funny and on brand.

The show is continuing to walk out the small shifts in it's dynamics born of re-ordering things in a smart way. Everyone being slightly older was felt sharply in season 1: Mat's mischief and gambling is a whole lot less cute and a whole lot more worrying since he's no longer a teen, Perrin is married (like always intended to be) and settled as the most 'responsible' of the boys, etc. In season 2 Egwene arrived first instead of Elayne, and is the more experienced/knowing Novice, to Elayne's naive newcomer. As a result we get to see the slightly spoiled sweet girl she was before the Tower started to bust down her pride and teach her more about the world. She's a little more unsure, and a little more eager to make friends- both of which work in favor of showing off her strengths as a character, endearing her to both Egwene and the audience.

The choice to give Perrin the ability to see visions of the past with his wolf brother powers is interesting. I get that they need a visual way to express Perrin's wolf senses, and this is probably the most direct, since their's not a non-weird way to visually depict smell, but I hope we at least get a TAR related explanation from Elyas.

I find the use of the Crimson Thorn as a symbol of the Red Ajah and the cruel mercy that they grant to be fascinating. More over, I find Nynaeve's being pulled between the Red and Yellow Ajahs (something I suspect we are going to get more of) to be smartly done: Nynaeve has never been afraid of doing what needs to be done, but that doesn't make it easy, and Liandrin is right: to an extent that their always been a little bit of Red in her, a belief that the world would be better if everyone just followed her rules. And yet it is her compassion that defines her, that fuels her rage most of the time. Compassion for those hurt and sick and dying turns to rage against what caused it: a cruel world or a war or a sickness. Compassion for those she cares most for fuels her rage at those that would threaten, hurt, or control them. She left the Two Rivers to protect the EF5 and that remains her goal all the way to the series's end, her character arc is largely about accepting what that will mean, and learning not to be afraid to claim the power to do that.

I've said this in various other forms but it bares repeating: Lanfear really is winning right out the gate. She's got the hot new hardware LTT as her naive sugar baby, their is no one in sight to threaten her control over him with things like 'morals' and 'duty', and he's slowly succumbing to her influence. More then worth the price of having to run a small business in a slum I'm sure.

That said I want a 50k word fic that is just Lanfear's Adventures in Small Business Ownership. We know those drinks where over priced, but where they watered down? Did she have to pay a mortgage? Deal with uppity suppliers? Was their a Darkfriend Company Discount as Selene's Totally Normal And Not At All Evil Bed and Breakfast?

I have two nitpicks that are so minor they barely warrant discussion, and one is not even the show's fault. The first is that everyone keeps saying things like 'your powers' rather then 'strength in the power'. Jordan goes to so much trouble to make the point that people and objects don't have the power, they use it and strong in the power, and then Sanderson changed it to 'my powers' and 'how powerful he is' and *gargles*. This is like the peaches all over again.

The second is that as much as they nail the arches scene/ceremony, I wish they had gone the final mile and said 'Be steadfast'. It wasn't necessary exactly, but it's exclusion made me whisper under my breath, like a rhyme I just HAD to finish.

(This is completely normal and sane person behavior, stop looking at me like that internet stranger).

I don't have to much to say about Mat's story line beyond being VERY interested in where they are going tying him and Min together. I still needs to get off the ground for me to have more Thoughts.

Adeleas being Cringefail re: Lan is so funny to me in ways I can't quite explain.

I reiterate the point that since Rand's can't be Warder trained, giving him an old veteran blade master who is suffering from PTSD/Dementia was a VERY smart move that fits the feel of the books.

RIP Joshua's soft boy curls. You where a casualty of this war.

[acherontia-art]

How did Lotor and Xasthur meet? What was the beginning of their relationship like? 👀

We love seeing your art of them so much and would go crazy over a 50k+ fic of them!

The first meeting comics!

Lotor and his team arrived on the neutral trading planet. They needed some resources that could be obtained here. Later, Lotor went for a walk through the local market, saw a counter with fruits and all sorts of things. Without noticing Xasthur (who worked as a cargo guard of the merchant), he reached for the fruit he liked, and Xasthur at the same time also did not look at the counter. Awkward situation :"D Later Lotor and the team were attacked by mercenaries, in the confusion, the hood fell off from Xasthur's head and the Druid mask opened. Lotor and the team at first thought that he was a Haggar's spy, they wanted to fight him, but Xasthur simply teleported away (because he just wasn't interested in this). Lotor was interested and he went to look for a mysterious stranger in order to win over to his side. During their conversation, the mercenaries attacked the planet and Lotor and Xasthur have to run to his shuttle and escape. The shuttle crashed, the evacuation did not work and Xasthur saved Lotor's life.

Their beginning was full of stress, heh.

Lotor came to Xasthur's cabin at night. After long talking with Acxa, he thought a lot and finally decided to confess. But from the very beginning he was afraid, then the conversation turned to Xasthur's past, Lotor finally found out what he had been through. He tried to confess but thought that probably Xasthur was not up to it. Lotor just mumbled while Xasthur was silent. In the end, because of the awkwardness, Lotor just felt tears running down his cheeks and he runs away. Xasthur catches him In the doorway and didn't let to leave. By the way, Lotor is not shy (at least it's not so important in this situation). He is scared to the point of panick attack - he is used to being rejected all time. To be rejected by Xasthur, whom he loved so much, would be a severe blow to his psyche. Just telling "I love you" causes shivering and uncontrollable tears for Lotor. He again felt himself that lonely child who was never beloved and needed.

[rynrising44]

Maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but those people on Tic Tok making videos about "things they despise in fanfiction" under the sound of "Hard times" kind of rub me the wrong way. Like, sure. Paragraphs are nice. Longer chapters are nice. Using quotation marks is nice. But do you know how hard it is to write? Do you write? Do you edit? Do you constantly stress over your works because you are so freaking fearful that it sucks and that people will bash it?

Legitimately I'm wondering.

Because one person on a tiktok said they don't read chapters unless they're at least 2k words. Another said they want more people to write for Whumptober but they want more than a one-shot because they need more than just a 3k work. Another said they only read finished fics and they have to be 100k. Like??? I hate to break it to you, but you are the problem.

I write cause I love writing. I write cause I want to read the stories in my head as concrete ideas. It takes me about 10 hours to write a single chapter that's about 2k words. 10 hours! Not including editing. I worked on a 6k one shot for an entire month. My WIPs are long. 50k words or so, and I have bookmarks from people saying "Chapter 0."

It has taken me so much time and tears and thought to write the words I have written. If no-one read my WIP because it wasn't finished and they refuse to read unfinished works, that's such a shame.

You miss out that way.

This is how AI weasles it's way into artistic spaces. Because people lack patience and want instant gratification.

It just bugs me so much that this culture is becoming more hard-core pressed on consumption instead of community. Opinions are opinions. You can share your frustrations but remember, we are all people. A lot of children are learning to write on these websites. People that speak English as a second language are putting out their best works, and here you are; overly criticizing works based on chapter length and paragraph length and POVs and tenses.

Like, guys. Writing is fluid. It's growth. I'm not the same writer I used to be, and it's because people read my fics and spurred me along that I continued to grow.

This is all humanity. This is all fun.

Free.

It's a gift born from the creativity of an individual's heart, so how could I ever refer to someone's soul as "not good enough."

It's one thing to silently not read a fanfiction. It's another to publicly shame it. That kid whose vivid imagination led them to write about characters they love can see your comments and maybe because of it, they'll never write again.

Remember that.

[cilil]

Never underestimate the impact a few words of encouragement can have.

I just saw someone say something nice about a project I wanted to throw away after my miserable efforts to bring my vision into being caused me to cry about it several times. The fact that someone else found meaning in what I had already declared meaningless may be the one reason I find the courage within me to keep trying at least until I scrap it later like that one 50k long fic

[hellscap3]

TY to the person on ao3 that told me discord links expire after a while of being embedded, I do wish I knew earlier tho cause I had so many fics to re link images to LMAO I'm fixing the last one rn aka my 15 chapter, 50k words, and like 70 images fic. but the rest are fixed already at least since the rest were fairly shorter. Basically if you want fic images link them via ANYTHING but discord.

[lostdrarryfics]

Hi :) I'm looking for a fic I read on Ao3 a couple of months ago, it involved post-war Harry having been drugged with some sort of love/lust potion and Draco taking care of him and refusing to sleep with him. I remember that after the potion wore off Harry was disgusted and refused to see or talk to Malfoy and left immediately, the fic was around 50k words or more if I remember correctly. I actually have a few paragraphs of the fic as follows:

‘He didn't recognize the letter as being from any of his friends and was about to toss it next to Hermione's when the writing on the back caught his eye; Black ink in a messy scrawl read Harry J. Potter.

He swore he meant to toss it, but his hands were already tearing it open.

Malfoy,

It seems I'm still a popular target for people's cruelty. It never ceases to amaze me how low people can go. At least they say you weren't the cause of it this time. I'm having trouble remembering any of it. I can only go by what Hermione and Ron tell me, and can only assume it was an uncomfortable and unpleasant experience for you to be around me like that. Unless you still find joy in my suffering then fuck you I'm sure you found it to be very entertaining. They say you are the reason I was able to get past this so quickly, so thanks for that, I guess, and sorry you had to be involved in this mess. I trust them and I trust that we can be mature adults about this and forget it ever happened.

Harry

All Draco could do was laugh. Because yes Harry, it had been very fucking entertaining holding your hair back while you vomited on yourself. Or holding your fevered body next to mine while you rocked violently with tremors. And my favourite part, oh yes, my favourite part was reliving the worst moments of my guilt ridden life while you pleaded with the ghosts of our past. He scrunched the letter up in his hands and threw it across the room.

Harry had no fucking clue just how mature he could be.

He was finally ready for some human interaction.’

Thank you :)

We believe you are looking for Symptom of Your Touch by NoxNoir (115k, E)

Don’t forget to bookmark, leave kudos and comments!

[rxbxlcaptain]

My Papa, My Stardust Chapter 4

Previous Chapter // AO3

Well, hello there.

It's been, *checks watch* , more than five years since I've updated this story. There was a whole pandemic shoved in the middle of that gap, and I didn't even cram some of this story into lockdown. Cassian Andor has gotten his own show since then! (I liked Andor, honestly, but that canon didn't exist when I wrote this story and, obviously, I have a general disregard for canon anyway. So, we will pay little if not no respect to that show in this fic.

I come with no explanation, only that I got a new computer and in the process of switching over some files from the old to the new, I found the 50k unedited words I once wrote for NaNoWriMo and, well, it turns out continuing an idea you've already drafted is a lot easier than writing from scratch. I hope you enjoy the continuation!

Hyperspace, 5 BBY

“Do organics ever consider how much they miss out on while they sleep?”

Cassian wished he was unfamiliar with such a non sequitur from his droid, especially within the first hour he was awake. Especially when woken up aboard his U-Wing, which did nothing to inspire restful sleep. “Did you run into any Imperial patrols?”

“No,” Kaytuesso answered, turning a dial on the control panel, “But you may want to hear this.”

An Imperial broadcast crackled over the speakers. Cassian hated hearing them, but they generally provided good intel. Even if all news was thoroughly coated in propaganda before being released to the public, nuggets of the truth (or at least leads that needed to be investigated) came through. 

A crisp, matter-of-fact announcer boomed out over the broadcast. “ .... are happy to announce the galactic terrorist known by the name Saw Gerrera has, at long last, been captured by the Empire. ”

Cassian’s eyes went wide. He attended several council meetings (always quiet, always observing) over the span of time Gerrera still considered himself a part of the Rebel Alliance. He had never spoken to the man, but Gerrera’s presence spoke for itself in any room he entered. 

“How long has this been playing?”

The droid gave its best approximation of a shrug. “Half an hour. The same message has played repeatedly without variation.”

Half an hour. The news was still fresh then. Of all the times to be away from Rebel Intelligence…

“His forces have sown seeds of chaos in every planet they have touched, taken countless lives of Imperial citizens and caused too many to live in fear. No more shall the galaxy live in fear of this terrorist. His execution shall be broadcasted live, tomorrow…”

Saw Gerrera hadn’t been a member of the Alliance for a long time, Cassian knew. By some definitions, he was never a member at all, merely a nuisance in the side of the Alliance. Still, Gerrera stood as a symbol of rebellion and freedom for many. And for Cassian, he often made recruitment easier. After seeing the extreme lengths Gerrera took to fight the Empire, the Alliance seemed tame by comparison, and Cassian had little trouble convincing young and hopeful recruits their rebellious spirits would better serve the Alliance.

But watching the galaxy’s best known rebel be put to death would be a loss the Alliance could afford, ally or not. 

“Has headquarters been in contact about this?” Cassian asked the droid, pulling open message channels on his datapad. Draven rarely sent messages while Cassian was in open space, worried about the chance of the message being intercepted, but such an important and public event would surely warrant something.

“We are already returning to base,” Kay answered, “Headquarters would likely not change our orders before we arrive.”

Kay was correct, Cassian discovered quickly. An unlabeled message sat unread in Cassian’s datapad, containing only a sensational headline about Gerrera’s capture. Draven had not added any additional instructions, no plan for a rescue or new coordinates to chart. Proceed as planned, the unvoiced orders said.

The droid glanced towards Cassian. “Should I alter our course?”

“No,” Cassian sighed. “Remain on course for Dantooine.”

Dantooine, 5 BBY

Davitis Draven did not support the rescue mission sent after Saw Gerrera. As far as the general was concerned, Gerrera was a hindrance to the Rebellion rather than an aide to it. Gerrera embodied the horror stories good Imperial mothers told their children at night; his profile decorated target boards at Imperial academies. 

More personally, Gerrera caused him only headaches, but Draven was skilled at keeping his personal opinions concealed. So, despite his personal misgivings on the matter, Draven sat with other members of the Alliance brass, eyes glued to the holo portraying Gerrera’s supposed execution and subsequent rescue. Whether the partisan leader was returned to the Alliance in one piece fell somewhere down Draven’s personal hierarchy; keeping the remaining members, and their current base, secret and away from the probing eyes of the Empire, remained the most important. 

Somewhere in the middle fell his curiosity of the Imperial scientist Galen Erso. The man was nothing short of a recluse -- nothing highly unusual compared to the scientists Draven had the opportunity to meet over the years, but still worthy of a study nonetheless. Erso’s name floated through intelligence files since the days of the Republic: a name always on the edge of a breakthrough, but never creating something noteworthy enough to become a household name. 

Still, this whole ordeal with the scientist’s daughter appearing side by side with one of the galaxy’s fiercest freedom fighters piqued Draven’s interest -- as did the sight of the young woman flashing past the holo clothed as an Imperial officer. Gerrera was too paranoid for an Imperial spy to survive in his ranks for long, but other possible backstories for the girl seemed just as improbable. 

Maybe he should ask Andor’s droid what the most likely scenario was. Force knows it would love the opportunity to tell him.

“Did you see the girl?” Draven asked Captain Andor. The captain had barely returned him a recruiting run in time to watch the execution live. With Gerrera aboard Idryssa Barruck’s ship and safely out of the atmosphere, Draven began planning his next steps forward. Let the X-Wings and ground troops remain in charge of maintaining the safety of the rebel base and ensuring Gerrera’s rescue mission wasn’t followed; Rebel Intelligence would be planning how to manipulate this brief show of power to their advantage. 

“Galen Erso’s daughter?” The captain fell in line with Draven as he continued out of the war room. “I don’t believe she looked up during the entire ceremony. She’s been with Gerrera’s cadre for years.”

“But still strongly tied to the Imperials.” Draven lowered his voice before continuing. “I’m not sure what new arrangement will happen with Gerrera, but I need the info he has on that woman immediately.” She would either be a future asset to be exploited or a leak the Alliance would never be able to fill. Either way, Andor would be an excellent agent to follow up on the situation. 

Captain Andor nodded, glancing towards the flow of traffic slowly returning to their original routines now that the spectacle of the day had ended. 

“Get some rest, Captain Andor,” Draven ordered. The man had neither rest nor food between landing and watching the would-be execution. Likely his droid had received more care than he had in the meantime. “Dismissed.”

Eadu, 5 BBY

    Rain had never tasted so sweet on Jyn’s skin.

    She stepped out of the transport shuttle, flanked by two Imperial guards, and onto Eadu Flight Station’s tarmac. Releasing a shuddering breath, Jyn tilted her face towards the rain. Her hands were still bound, so she couldn’t wipe the water around, only inhale the sensation of the rivets running down, down her face. It felt cleansing to her soul.

    Memories of Mama wandered across Jyn’s mind. Escaping the city planet of Coruscant and reconnecting with nature — with the Force — was Mama’s favorite thing. How many times had Jyn seen her mother do exactly this, the first time she was released from the prison of the city? Thinking of her made Jyn feel calmer as she escaped her most recent prison — only to walk into a newer one.

    Her father waited at the end of the tarmac, taking shelter from the rain under the awning of the building. The guards nudged her towards him with rifles to her back, their touches more gentle than Jyn expected. Much to Jyn’s relief, Krennic was nowhere to be seen.

    “Father,” Jyn greeted when she reached him. She ignored his flinch at her cold tone. “It’s been so long.”

    “Jyn.” When he spoke, he only sounded exasperated. He still expects you to be a baby , Jyn reminded herself. He still hasn’t learned you’ve grown up. (She thought the punch to the jaw might be enough, but apparently whatever he’d learned of her then had faded along with that bruise.) He gestured at the stuncuffs around Jyn’s wrists, requesting one of the guards remove them. “Come with me. Let me show you the facility.”

    “Will this prison cell come with more reliable lights than the last one?”

    When Galen’s steps faltered with surprise at her words, Jyn found satisfaction in it.

    “What do you mean?”

    “The wiring was surprisingly faulty for an Imperial building on Coruscant,” Jyn explained. Based on her tone, the rain outside would have been just as interesting of a topic. “It would flicker out for minutes or hours at a time. What’s the point of having world class technicians if they can’t keep the electricity working for your prisoners?”

    As for the hours when the lights were on… Jyn would save that topic for another day.

    “That shouldn’t have happened.” Galen reached for her arm, but Jyn sidestepped him, bumping into one of the guards. Her father stopped, his face serious. The traffic in the hallway was too crowded to stop here, pilots and ‘troopers and men whose uniforms matched her father’s shuffled both directions, yet none of them seemed bothered to step about the group, at least not when they saw who they were stepping around. “I was told…”

    Worry or anger or whatever emotion had filled his eyes at her announcement vanished, and his eyes once again seemed distant as he swallowed. “Never mind that now. An unfortunate situation, but I’m sure the director did the best he could. You’re here now and that’s what really matters.”

    “Why am I here?” Jyn asked. No one had given her any information since they’d pulled open her cell door. (The bright light from the adjoining room blinded her for a moment; the Death Troopers only seemed more intimidating, more massive among the shocking outline.) The Imperial uniform she’d worn to Saw’s execution was shoved into her hands — the guards hadn’t given her any semblance of privacy as she’d changed at gun point — and then she’d been ushered into a shuttle. She’d been in hyperspace for hours, her left hand cuffed to the wall of the ship, without anyone speaking to her.) Her father, at the very least, should answer any pressing questions she had.

    “You’re here to assist me in my project, Jyn, but you shouldn’t need to worry about that tonight. You’ve had a long journey, and rest seems more important right now. I’ll give you a quick tour of the facility, but you don’t need to worry about the work until after you’ve rested.”

     Because sleep will come so easily to me here.

    Bright fluorescent lights illuminated each hallway, much like the building Jyn had been kept in on Coruscant. Based on the security checkpoints — some requiring her father’s keycard, which Jyn could steal, but others requiring biometric identification, which would be much harder to fake — this facility had been designed for the Empire’s use, where Jyn’s holding cell on Coruscant’s simple locks and lack of proper jail cells suggested it had been converted post the Clone Wars, or possibly more recently.

    Her father acted as a tour guide as they walked, indicating the mess hall and several corridors of barracks for the enlisted men (“You’ll stay closer to the labs, with the rest of the science officers,” he explained and Jyn balked at the thought of being addressed as an officer on a daily basis). Finally, he came to the main lab, pressing his thumb against the keypad outside the door.

    “This,” he said as the door slid open with a whoosh. “is where you’ll find me.”

    Lights flickered on one row at a time, and Jyn took a moment to examine the lab. The room looked much as Jyn remembered his laboratory on Coruscant. Her memories from that time faded over time, but stepping into such a familiar environment sharpened them. Datapads littered countertops, and holoprojectors, turned off for the end of the day, sat, ready to display her father’s project whenever required. The spectrometer Jyn recognized, but many machines were unfamiliar to her. If her father was telling her the truth and she was to join in on his project, she assumed she’d soon learn to operate them.

    “Krennic showed me some of your coding work,” her father said as Jyn wandered inside the lab. He waited by the door, patient yet expectant. Was he curious what her reaction to the facility would be? Looking for her approval? “I was impressed. Saw must have taught you well.”

    So, he was going to mention Saw. Part of Jyn wondered if he would simply ignore the past eight years, continue as if they had never left each other. “Saw taught me many things,” she said. “Most importantly, he taught me how to survive.”

    “And for that I’m very grateful. You’ll need those skills here, Jyn.”

    “I don’t believe the Imperials are going to hand me a blaster.” But what she wouldn’t give for one right now — a blaster, her truncheons, the knives they stripped off when she was captured.

    “I’m not talking about physical strength.” Galen walked along the opposite side of the counter Jyn paced, keeping even with her but still enough distance between them. “I’m talking about the will to survive. When you were injured or you were hungry or you were tired, Saw taught you to keep going. This place, Jyn,” he motioned around him, “this place is very, very different than what you’re used to. I don’t need to tell you that. You’ll be well fed and have the best medical care the Empire can offer you, but, Jyn —'' he caught her eye before he continued, ensured she was listening “ — Jyn, this place will make you tired, and part of you will be hungry. Part of you, perhaps, will feel injured in ways that bacta could never heal. That’s when you’ll need what Saw taught you.”

    Jyn stared at her father after his unexpected speech. He’s lying , part of her brain yelled at her, he wants you to trust him and would say anything to earn it.

     Listen to him , another part urged. Listen to your Papa. He’s always loved you, he’s always cared for you.

    Both halves sounded like liars to Jyn. She stayed quiet rather than responding to her father.

    He seemed to understand her silence. Sighing, he gestured to the door again. “I’ll show you to your room, Jyn.”

    ( Her father wouldn’t be delivering her to a cell , reminded herself. He wouldn’t be delivering her to a cell. )

    Down another hallway, making a left and then a right turn. No distinguishing marks separated one hallway from another; there were no windows to orient Jyn to the outside world and no markers pointing from one destination to the next. With a jolt of panic, Jyn realized she had lost count of the path she’d taken to get from the hanger to the lab. Was that what her father intended, when he showed her the lab? To disorientate her enough that she would never be able to find her way out of the lab?

     It wouldn’t matter , her mind snorted. The only way off this planet is by diving off one of those cliffs.

    Her father made one last turn and stopped outside a door, as nondescript as the one next to it. Waving his keycard in front of the pad, the door slid open to reveal a room, similar to the one Jyn slept in with Saw on Wrea. A bed was shoved against one wall, a desk and a small wardrobe shoved against the opposite one. No windows, like the rest of the facility. It glowed white where Jyn’s quarters with Saw were muted by earthy tones, but it was similar enough to calm Jyn’s anxious mind.

    He motioned her into the room, but didn’t follow her in. “This is only your space, Jyn. Until you’re assigned a keycard, only mine will open it. I’ll remove that privilege as soon as you have access.”

    Gently, Jyn ran her fingers over the pillow case and sat on the mattress. Firm, solid, cleaned recently. Better quality than many beds Jyn had slept in over the years.

    “It’s fairly standard.” Her father cleared his throat. “I didn’t know what to put in it for you. But there is one thing for you. Open the top drawer.” He pointed at the desk across from the bed. Curiosity won over Jyn as she did as he said. Inside, a code replicator sat, a newer model than Saw had gifted her.

    “You can’t win me over with gifts,” Jyn muttered under her breath.

    “I don’t expect to, Jyn, only to give you something I thought you’d enjoy.”

    She stayed silent, fingering the code replicator.

    “I’ll leave you for the night, then.” He stepped back into the hallway. “The door will be unlocked, Jyn. You’re welcome to leave as you please.”

    Jyn snorted. “I’m welcome to wander the halls of an Imperial facility, you mean. This isn’t freedom.”

    “I didn’t say it was freedom.”

    “No, you said —”

    “Either you are to live here,” Galen snapped, “or you return to the cell from which you just left, Jyn.” He sucked in a ragged breath, pausing to rub at his temples. “I don’t mean to shout, but your options are limited. I’ve done the best I can.”

    “You’ve done the best you can?” Jyn sneered. “My mother’s dead, you’re building Force-knows what for the Empire, and the man who raised me was nearly executed in front of me. Forgive me if I don’t trust your track record.”

    Galen stayed silent for so long Jyn thought he wouldn’t answer, simply walk out the door and lock it behind him. Instead, he stayed, dropping his hand from the keypad and looking back at Jyn. His eyes were heavy. Dark bags hung under them. Had those been there since Jyn met him on Coruscant? Had they been there since Mama died?

    “I haven’t been given the best options.” He turned back to the door, but spoke once more. “I can’t dictate what you believe, Jyn, but know I have always done my best to protect you.”

    Beneath the layers of anger and hurt boiling in her chest, Jyn heard the voice again. Its voice was smaller than a bogling, but still persistent, shouting its same message as earlier. He loves you. He wants to keep you safe. Listen to him.

    The voice wanted to believe her father.

    Galen left without asking if she understood — a small mercy, because Jyn knew that she didn’t, wasn’t sure she could ever understand what her father was doing.

    Jyn never learned how her father convinced Krennic to allow her, not only out of the cramped cell she called home for two weeks, but into the lab where he works. A spiteful voice inside her head tells her not to ask. After all, if she never knows what he did; she’ll never have to be thankful for it.

Get a good night's rest, her father had told her, so that she would be bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning to do the Empire’s bidding.

    Eadu Flight Station had become her home, Jyn couldn’t deny that. She could, however, prevent it from becoming part of her identity.

    Galen Erso’s blood and Imperial connections ran through her veins, but that didn’t stop Saw Gerrera’s teachings from flowing through her heart and her mind.

    She would cooperate — she didn’t have many options if she wanted to stay alive. She would not, under any circumstances, help the Empire move forward with its project. (She didn’t even know the details of the project yet, but it wouldn’t matter — It benefited the Empire, and that was enough for Jyn to know she wanted nothing to do with it.)

    The matter was set to rest, but Jyn wasn’t. Blame it on Saw’s teaching or her general distrust of humans, but turning off the lights and falling asleep was going to be impossible for Jyn. Even with the locked door no one could access but her father (and she had no reason to believe he would lie, but she had no reason to trust him either), without a weapon in her hand and nowhere to run if threatened, Jyn couldn’t calm her mind well enough to sleep.

    Instead, she paced. Relentlessly and endlessly, mapping out the each length of her room, measuring by her footsteps. She took stock of the contents littering the room. (Nothing more exciting than what she had previously noticed: a bed with clean linens, a desk with drawers empty except for the code replicator her father gifted to her, and a wardrobe that held two sets of Imperial uniforms identical to the ones she wore now and some set of looser, relaxed clothes obviously meant for sleeping.) Jyn spotted no holocams in the corners of the room or microphones in her mattress, though without a knife to cut it open, she couldn’t be certain.

    With no chrono ticking the hours away and no way to see the sun of the system (though, come to think of it, with the rain Eadu received, would she be able to see the system’s sun, even with a window?), the passage of time seemed almost surreal. Jyn’s eyelids drooped; too much of her sleep recently had been induced by chemicals or a Stormtrooper’s anger rather than her need to fall asleep.

     Whatever I do, I do it to protect you.

    I have always done my best to protect you.

    Her father’s words rang in her head on endless loops. She begged her mind to conjure up any other words, any other voice: the last words her mother spoke to her, Saw’s advice upon the first time she went into battle, Codo’s laugh that she always found so annoying. At this point, Jyn would rather listen to a speech given by the Emperor himself rather than hearing her father’s voice.

    Either that, or for her father to return to the room.

     I don’t need your protection! Jyn would scream at him if he were here. What has your protection ever gotten me? You sent me to Saw. You let my mother die. If it weren’t for you, Saw would have taken me with him.

    The last, bitter truth was the worst realization Jyn had come to during her stay in the Imerpial torture facility on Coruscant. Her connection to her father became the deciding factor in Saw’s abandonment of her. If she wasn’t the daughter of an Imperial officer, if she didn’t have such obvious connections in the wrong places, if it weren’t for her last name, Saw would have turned around, would have reached for her hand and pulled her along out of the chamber and into safety. The Alliance would take them in and they’d learn to play by their diplomatic rules.

    But instead, she found herself stuck in an Imperial facility with nothing but white walls and unfriendly forces surrounding her.

    Distracted fingers played at the edges of the code replicator. Its presence on the desk mocked her, reminding her of the one she carried aboard Saw’s ship to Tamsye Prime, the one she had used since she first came to Saw’s cadre. She had no purpose for it here, not unless the Imperials wanted to observe her skills and learn how to best those who impersonated their codes.

    With a grunt of frustration, Jyn slammed the code replicator against the edge of the desk, again and again, until the screen cracked in two. (Again she slammed it, simply to relieve the frustration of the last few days.) The machine was thicker than a datapad and harder to manipulate, but using the edge of the desk for leverage, she bent the screen in two, until the cracked transparisteel pieces broke free of their bindings. She dug her fingers under the pieces — if only her nails were longer, perhaps they would have better leverage, perhaps her fingers wouldn’t be covered with blood by the end of this — and plied them away.

    The process took several minutes of maneuvering, but at least Jyn emerged with a shard of transparisteel gripped in her hand. Blood coated the edges of her fingers and bubbled over onto her palm, but despite that Jyn smiled.

    She didn’t need her father’s protection. Jyn would listen to her father exactly once — “You’ll need what Saw taught you” — and keep herself safe.

Her father made no move to comment on her bloody hands or the broken code replicator when he woke her the next morning.

    (Woke, perhaps, was the wrong term. Jyn had sat for the entire evening, forcing her eyelids to stay open. Her father made no comment on the dark circles under her eyes, either.)

    “The lab,” Galen explained as he walked into the room, despite its stop on his tour not twelve hours previous. “You’ll be joining me here everyday. I don’t suppose you’ll need a wake up call every morning, but… Well, I wanted to help you get acquainted with the routine.”

    “I don’t need an escort then?” Jyn raised a challenging eyebrow at him. Galen merely sighed in response.

    “You don’t need an escort or a chaperone, Jyn. You’ll have a job to do every day, but once it’s completed, the facility is yours to explore and utilize. If there’s a project you want to explore, perhaps, you’d be free to do so. There are training grounds where you’d be more than welcome as well, if you wanted to keep up your physical strength.”

    Jyn almost smiled at that one. The idea of finding an Imperial sparring partner — an off duty ‘trooper she could beat bloody once in a while, perhaps — sounded entirely ideal.

    “I just figured…” Galen cleared his throat. “I figured working alongside me would help your transition. And, well, you’ve proven yourself adept at coding. You’ll be very useful to Tino.”

    “Tino?”

    Tino turned out to be another member of her father’s team of engineers, all of whom she was introduced to shortly. Tino Vic, a man a decade Jyn’s senior from Naboo, was their programming specialist and more than happy to welcome Jyn into their ranks, explaining their computer system and inquiring what programs she had used before. Jyn didn’t bother biting back the reminder that she had been a member of a renegade rebel group, so she wasn’t exposed to the latest Imperial technology. He merely laughed in response — not at all what Jyn was expecting — and assured her they’d get her up to speed in no time.

    Criz Iblik kept mainly to himself, Galen assured her, so she shouldn’t be offended by the way he brushed off her introduction. Nor should she mind the attention she received from Lucian Judd, the son of a wealthy banker on Scipio.

    “I don’t think he’s ever been told no in his life,” Galen murmured, leaning closer to Jyn’s ear as if gossiping together. She yanked backward, glaring, but he merely took her negative reaction in stride. “I believe meeting you might be highly beneficial to him.”

    That only left Jerred Anholts and Oltach Aske, who both greeted her with a smile. When she didn’t warm to their social pleasantries, Jerred shrugged and returned to his work, but Oltach stared at her a moment longer, a fond smile on his face as he watched her.

    “What?” Jyn snapped when his attention lasted a moment too long.

    “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just… You look so much like Lyra.”

    Jyn’s brain short circuited at the sound of her mother’s name. What would this man know of her mother?

    “Ah.” The scientist rubbed the back of his neck, and his smile shifted slightly awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I thought your father might have told you. I’ve known your family for years. Galen, Director Krennic and I went to the Republic Future’s Program together, so I knew your mother fairly well on Coruscant.” He pointed towards Jyn scowl. “She would get that same look on her face whenever something displeased her.”

    Jyn hurried back to her father’s side. Talk of her mother only made her insides go fuzzy and red tinge her vision, and exposing weakness to these Imperials was the last thing she needed to do.

    “You still haven’t told me,” she said once she reached her father. At his quizzical glance, she rephrased. “What exactly the research is.”

    “Ah,” her father said and then hesitated for a moment. “Tell me, Jyn, what does Saw know about my research? I’ve had a strong suspicion he’s been following it for years.”

    “Whatever he knows, I wouldn’t tell you,” Jyn growled. Another interrogation? Days of torture and the Imperial’s new tactic was to simply have her father ask her? If she were going to break at easily, she wouldn’t have withstood their torture for days.

    Galen held up his hands in surrender. “Never mind what Saw knows. What do you remember, from our days on Coruscant?”

    “Crystals,” Jyn said, figuring that was basic enough. “You worked with crystals.”

    “I did,” Galen nodded. “Speaking of, I believe this belongs to you.”

    He patted several pockets of his Imperial uniform. (He was always so forgetful, but Jyn had forgotten until this moment. Mama used to follow behind him to pick up anything he’d left behind before they’d leave their home on Coruscant. “He’s just thinking of too many things at once,” she explained to a young Jyn, so many years ago. “The mundane things slip through his fingers quite easily.”) His face lit up, a small “Oh” on his lips, as he reached into one pocket and emerged with her mother’s kyber pendant.

    A sigh of relief escaped Jyn, seeing it in her father’s outstretched palm. When she’d woken up without it on Coruscant, gone with the rest of her clothing, she thought it would be gone forever. Simply another piece of her identity swallowed up by the Empire.

    “Your mother gave it to you?” Galen asked, quiet and slower than he’d spoken before. Jyn nodded. “I wondered why she didn’t have it when she died.”

    The scowl pulled at her lips again. What did he want from her? A shared moment of pain and grief over her mother’s death? He wouldn’t get it, not here, in the heart of all she despised and ran away from. Jyn barely felt worthy to think of her mother while wearing the uniform she hated so much.

    Galen cleared his throat. “If she wanted you to have it, then you should keep it, Jyn. That’s your part of her.”

    “I don’t want it,” Jyn said. “Not here.”

    It didn’t belong, smothered under an Imperial uniform. Galen, at least, seemed to understand.

    “I’ll keep it here.” He opened the top draw of his desk, laying it among a clutter of notes and various instruments. “Any time you want it, Jyn, it’ll be here waiting for you.”

    “You’re stalling,” Jyn accused, desperate to change the topic. “You haven’t told me about the research.”

    He nodded and flicked several switches on the tabletop in front of him. A diagram flickered to life above the table, green lines curving to shape some massive object, round like a moon with one giant crater in its side. Whatever it was supposed to be, Jyn couldn’t understand.

    “I don’t know what this is.”

    “That’s because,” Galen explained, “there’s nothing else like this in the entire galaxy.” He stood and walked around the diagram, as if he were examining it for the first time as well. “This will be the Empire’s newest battle station, more powerful than anything the galaxy has ever seen before.”

    “Don’t skimp on the details,” Lucian, the over arrogant young scientist, snickered from the side. “Tell her about the weapon, Doc.”

    “Weapon?” Jyn shot her father a piercing glare. “What weapon?”

    “It’s laser beam.” He pointed towards the dent in its upper hemisphere, steadfastly refusing to meet her eyes. “It’s being powered by kyber crystals. It should be quite powerful. Yet to be tested, of course, but our research suggests it can — and Orson dearly hopes it will — have the power to break apart a planet’s core.”

    Cold seeped through her chest as the meaning of her father’s words sunk in.

    “You could destroy planets with this weapon.” Her voice fell flat, emotionless as the enormity of what he was describing sunk in. “Entire worlds.”

    “Now, now, my dear,” Jerred Anholt shook his head at her. “It’s merely a scare tactic. The Empire has no need to use it. The battle station will be nothing more than a symbol of power throughout the galaxy.” He chuckled to himself. “Though I daresay it might scare those pesky rebels a bit, wouldn’t it?”

    “Much more work needs to be done,” Galen hurried to say, as if he sensed the snarky comment about pesky rebels on Jyn’s lips. “It won’t be operational for years to come.”

    Jyn longed for a connection to Saw, to the Alliance, even to the useless bastards of Imperial Senate. Someone had to be informed about the atrocity these engineers had created.

    Her father met her icy glare for the first time since bringing up the diagram, his eyes lined with  a silent plea, as if he was asking Jyn to understand. She refused to stay in the room with these plans — or with the man who’d created them — any longer. Turning on her heel, Jyn slammed open the door to the hallway.

    The last thing she heard was a low whistle coming from Judd. “A bit of a temper on that one, huh?”

[fairydares]

i'm not even trying to be shitty because i love getting comments on my fics and even love getting comments that let me know people want more asap. these days, that's fine.

that said, i once was thrown in the hospital for over 2 months. when i came out, was so excited to see the comments on my fic, hoping they'd help warm my (at the time) very fragile heart. and they were all like "UPDATE", "UPDATE ALREADYYYYYY", "UGH NOT ANOTHER CANCELLED FIC THIS KEEPS HAPPENING TO MEEEEEE" "Please just UPDATTTTEEE" other than those types of comments, the only kind i got was hatred for the premise of the story (aka, my fic got its own harassment campaign...in hindsight, i'm quite proud of that).

i was already so low on myself, and that really made it so, so much worse. i never wound up finishing that fic (now clocks in at about 50k reads total) and i actually made the choice to leave the fandom for a while, which caused me to miss a lot of said fandom's prime.

now that i'm older, remembering the whole thing just really irritates me. not even because i went through it but because it took me way too long to figure out how obnoxiously bratty and nasty this behavior was and because i know other people go through the same hurt and self-loathing i did because of shit like this.

i almost fucking died. none of these people knew that. they knew nothing about me, yet felt perfectly within their rights to make demands. not one person hit up my inbox or comment section to ask if i was alright. even that would have been fine if i'd gotten a single, straight-up compliment that wasn't DEMANDING work from me when i was crying like a faucet 24/7, trying not to kill myself, and fainting anytime i was the least bit stressed.

but believe it or not, there wasn't ONE simply nice comment given to my fic, while i was getting bounced around hospitals and treated like shit by healthcare providers. not even something as simple and nice as "can't wait for the next chap!" this was a while ago, but still. these days, it boggles my fucking mind.

because i wasn't paid to give anyone a story. i don't think i should've been, but still, it took time and effort i got nothing in return for. i didn't gain anything from this; if anything, it just wound up hurting me even more than i already was, thanks to how people were about it. how do you feel when you're screamed at, judged, or patronized for "not getting enough done" after you've been through hell, with no one showing you any understanding?

fandom isn't a service, and you aren't owed. if everyone acted like some of you, it would shrink faster than an Apple laptop. this is a hobby and if you want to nourish it? you need to drop the self-centeredness and start seeing it as the community it is.

[trippinsorrows]

Fic Authors Self Rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written. Toot your horn! Tell us what YOU like about them, then pass this on to at least five other writers. (no pressure.) 😊

omg thank you for thinking of me! 🥺😭

well, i only have two on here, but i'll include three other stories i wrote a couple years back on here and one of my personal fics 😊

with me

i think i just really enjoy how i took a taboo topic and controversial trope and wrote a really beautiful love story. like, i legitimately love reader and joe, even with their controversial beginnings, i feel like it all came together really nicely in the end. at least, that was the goal lol

2) looking through your eyes

if not for 'with me' being my firstborn on this site, she would come first. the way solana and roman's story is coming together is literally better than i could have imagined. i'm also proud of the writing thus far, just because i tend to think my writing is better with reader inserts cause they're easier. but ya girl really is trying with this one, and i think it shows.

3, 4, 5)

i use to write for a completely different fandom on here years ago that ended up imploding in the worst way lol, but i'm still very proud of the fics i created there. two in particular. and then i have this random ass hangman from top gun fic i wrote for myself that started as a oneshot and ended up being like....50k words.

idk who else all to tag so anyone who sees this please feel free to participate! 😭

@southerngirl41 @bijouxcarys @empressofsnow

[java-dragon]

Bookbinding for Beginners by a Beginner part 4- Quarto Edition

SO QUARTOS! I've mentioned them a few times between 1 - 3 posts. So let me just jump into Quarto before I get into "Now I have this neat-o type faced document that I have split off... so what do I do now o' gremlin writing these posts???

I believe in being a tease sometimes, plus if I don't do it now while I'm remembering shit I won't do it.

ONWARD!

SO What is a quarto?

Well a Folio is 4 pages per one sheet of 8.5 x 11 paper.

A Quarto is 8 pages per one sheet of 8.5 x 11 paper.

And these things will BREAK you if you don't pay attention. Tiny, mighty and o-so-sweet looking.

Behold a text block I have finished up with end pages tacked on but this is 8.5 x 5x5 on the bottom... on the top? THAT is a quarto... about 5.5 x 4.5

SO what do you do? HOW do you get a quarto?

I will mention again- that this is for fics 50K or less. The sweet spot for me seems to be somewhere around 20-30k or less. But that's just me.

Well like previous go through your formatting as you usually would but for the text body itself the font size will need to be increased. Not unless you enjoy squinting or using Sherlock Holmes' magnifying glass to read. I think you might need serious help but do you boo-boo.

I set my font size for folio around 11 or 12 depending upon my mood. For Quarto? I set the font size to 26 and that's just so it's legible.

I will keep all of the fic info at a smaller font size but that would be 11 or 12 now instead of a font size of 8 or so depending upon how much I'm using from the tags.

But it will be a lot of "See the previous post" for formatting.

The trick is going back to Bookbinder JS if you want to format word to spit out Quarto size- be my guest. I cheat. I choose the path of least resistance and less math you have to deal with.

There will be more mathing involved.

But back to Bookbinder JS:

Paper size and Duplex remains the same.

Page Layout section? Hit "Quarto" and upload your pdf file.

Going down to the signature you can do perfect bound (again paperback) or signatures (for stitched books). I keep to stitched books because honestly it's nice to not rely only on glue to keep your book together. But once again follow your happiness. I'm merely stating opinion. Don't take anything as gospel all I want to do is help people break into bookbinding and fan binding cause once you get the basics down I find it very relaxing.

With that aside out of the way, fiddle with the signature size- the more the signatures the more you're going to have to sew. But if you keep everything together it won't lay nice and neat and look rather bulky. So strike a middle ground.

NOW after you do your print off... you're going to have to fold each page... one by one... twice. You're going to have to play "Line the numbers up with each individual page" for the entirety of that signature. I suggest having the pdf open while you're doing this so you can jigsaw puzzle your way into a text block.

But fold down first, then fold that in half.

By the way I hope you have some sort of cutting mat and ruler and cutting hobby knives by this point cause you're going to have to shave the tops off of the pages so you can open it up and read it like a normal book.

I would only do this if you're like me, and have a fondness for smaller fics that you'd like on your shelf and also have a special breed of self inflicted masochism.

I'm a multi-tool of reasons as to why I've done this. One- I got curious as to how to do this. Two- it's now a hyper fixation and weekender hobby. Three- The sea has called me home and having copies of my favourite stories just sounds like making a boat a home to me. Four- I was born with the "Fuck it how hard can it be?" Gene. Five- that gene is a double edged sword but I'm at least spreading what little I know around for anyone that may wish to teach themselves how to do this.

Once you have everything folded, and trimmed, it's time to put that tiny precious stack of paper into your book press, and you compress it down like it owes you money and think of it as you getting your own back for having to do so much fucking math and folding.

NOW I can start getting into how to make loose pages of folded paper into something resembling a book.

[the-toad-in-your-piano]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better. (You can also just read my answers.  Or don’t.  Up to you!  Zero pressure).  Thank you @once-in-a-blue-moon-rising for the tag!  I’ll do my best to be at least marginally entertaining, but no promises.

Three ships: Ooh, this is a fun one.  I’ll do my OTP, my favourite ship I don’t actually write for, and one wild card.

OTP: Mystrade, of course!  Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade from BBC Sherlock.  I’ve posted about 250k words of Mystrade fic on AO3 and I’ve got somewhere around 50k more of works in progress sitting in my drive.

Favourite I don’t write for: Thomas Barrow/Guy Dexter from Downton Abbey.  Despite writing 255k for Sherlock and 0k for Downton, DA is my very favourite series in the entire universe.  I didn’t love the second film (Singin’ in the Rain did it better), but I adored Guy and think he and Thomas would be so sweet together. 

Wild Card: Claudine Pascal/Lizzie Wingfield from Hotel Portofino.  No, I have no evidence for this.  No, I will not elaborate.  I just think it would rule.  One of these days, I’ll get around to writing the second fic on AO3 for Portofino (the first one is also me, haha) and it’ll be these two.

First ever ship: I had to dig deep to think of this one.  I think it was Chad Danforth/Ryan Evans from High School Musical, hahaha.

Last song: “Steal Smoked Fish” by the Mountain Goats was the last song I listened to.  A quartet arrangement of “Sentimental Journey,” as made popular by Doris Day and Les Brown, was the last song I sang.

Last movie: I’m on a 1950s kick at the moment.  I just watched Shane for the third or so time and I watched Rebel Without a Cause last week.

Currently reading: I’m actually between books right now, but I just finished Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, which is a fantastic piece of journalism from the 1960s.

Currently watching: I haven’t technically started it yet, but I’m about to boot up the first episode of The Muppets Mayhem.  Dr Teeth has always been my favorite Muppet (and I love the Muppets), so I’m very excited.

Currently consuming: A piece of gum.

Currently craving: Another half-piece of gum.  But only half a piece.  You know how sometimes one isn’t quite big enough, but two is far too much to chew without hurting your jaw?  Yeah.  That’s what I’m feeling just now.

Tagging (with no pressure at all!): @feralremains, @neverlet, @ivysplivy, @mon221b, @stellacartography, @boldlygowhereitsbiggerinside, @icatee, @bakerstreetbasilisk, @just-a-fixed-point-in-time