#i get why people print hard copies of this fic

[antiquarianfics]

Better Than Us

Being a woman is hard, and it’s not necessarily something you’d wish on another.

A/N: Comfort fic because I’m sad and I have not stopped thinking about that scene in Barbie. Warnings: Mentions of sexism, mentions of self-loathing/body issues. Not really proofread. Genre: Angst/Fluff Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, you may like, comment, and reblog.

——

“Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a girl!” The sonographer says, hitting a few more buttons on the ultrasound. “Your baby girl is looking great. I’ll get the sonograms printed off for you to take home, get you cleaned up, and get you out of here. Alright?”

You stare at the sonogram, watching as your baby moves around in your uterus.

Congratulations, Mom and Dad, it’s a girl!

Mom and Dad, it’s a girl.

It’s a girl.

A girl.

Bucky watches you, and when you don't respond to the sonographer after a while, he turns to her and nods.

“Thank you.”

She smiles and nods as she takes a wipe and cleans the gel off your stomach. When she finishes, she smiles and excuses herself to go grab the sonogram photos from the printer in another room.

You pull your shirt down and sit up on the exam table.

“You all right, Sweetheart?” Bucky asks, concern laced in his voice. He gently run his hand through your hair comfortingly.

You lean into his touch before looking up at him and forcing a smile. You’re attempting to be reassuring, but he seems to see through it, you think. Bucky lets it go, though, and kisses your forehead.

——

You’re quiet for the rest of the day, and it worries Bucky. Usually after a doctor’s appointment, you’re giddy; you love getting news about your unborn child.

“Bucky! The baby’s the size of a grapefruit now! Isn’t that crazy?”

“Buck, did you know our baby has fingernails already? Wild.”

“Holy shit! Holy shit! James, come here! The baby just kicked!”

Bucky was always just as excited to hear about his child, and he was expecting to be celebrating finding out the sex. However, ever since the words “it’s a girl” were uttered, you’d been quiet.

“Could she be disappointed?” Bucky wonders, but it seems so unlikely he pushes the thought aside.

When the majority of the day passes without you saying much or expressing any excitement about your daughter, Bucky can’t help but confront you.

“Y/N? Doll?” He asks, a little nervous.

You’re sitting on the couch, fiddling with the blanket across your lap, and the TV on and ignored in front of you. You hum in acknowledgement, but you don’t meet his gaze.

“Doll,” he says again, moving to sit next to you, bringing his hand gently to your face so that he can divert your gaze to his. “Is everything alright? You’ve been quiet since the appointment.”

You clench your jaw, obviously anxious. Perhaps a little angry with yourself.

“You’ll be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because you’re gonna realize you’re having a baby with someone who’s going to be a terrible mother.”

Bucky is taken aback. You’re so sincere that it scares him.

“Y/N, honey, you’re not going to be a terrible mother. Why would you think that?”

You look away from him to try and hide your impending tears.

“We’re having a girl.”

“And that means you’re going to be a terrible mother?” Bucky’s eyebrows scrunch together. He is absolutely not following.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just. We’re having a girl, and I should be excited, but I’m not. I’m going to be—no, I am—a terrible mother because I’m upset I’m having a daughter.”

Bucky is still not following, and his hesitance to respond pushes you to keep going.

“It’s not that I don’t want a daughter. It’s that being a woman really sucks. One day you’re a kid, playing with Barbies, playing tag, making up games no one else understands, and the next day you’re so self conscious about random things; and men look at you when you don’t want them to; and people make fun of you for liking anything; and no matter how good you are at your job, people still question if you should have it.

“I remember the first time I was aware my stomach was bigger than it should be to be considered pretty. I was in the 5th grade, Buck. I was standing in line to throw my lunch away and go to recess, I looked down at my feet, and I saw my stomach. I remember sucking it in and never stopping. And when I told my mom, she didn’t tell me not to. She didn’t tell me I was healthy, and a kid, and that I was beautiful without sucking my stomach in. No. She praised me. Told me she did the same thing. Said it strengthens our abs and makes us healthier when it really messes with your breathing, and reshapes your body, and-“

You cut yourself off with your own tears. You’re immediately pulled into Bucky’s arms as he moves to soothe you; a comforting hand slides up and down your back, soft kisses are pressed to your forehead, and sweet nothings and reassurances meet your ears.

When you finally calm down some, Bucky pulls away, grasping your shoulders and holding you just far enough away to look into your eyes.

“Listen, I hear you. The way women are treated—the way you’re treated—sucks. It really does. But it’s a lot better than when I was a kid, and it takes women like you recognizing that the way you’ve been treated is wrong and working to make it better for your daughters. The fact that you’re upset for your daughter—not about her—means you’re a good mom. And I know you’re gonna do everything you can to instill confidence in her and let her be a kid as long as possible. And we are going to teach her how she should be treated, and we are going to teach her how to stand up for herself.

“And if we ever have a son, we’ll teach him to respect women. Not to ogle or harass them. We’ll raise our kids to be better than we are.”

Bucky’s speech takes you off guard. You’d expected him to tell you you were being dramatic. You’d expected him to tell you that you should just be happy about having a daughter regardless of what that entails.

You’d expected him to act like every man that he was not.

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m not a bad mom?”

“You’re not a bad mom.”

A pause. You catch your breath; Bucky holds you close.

“Hey, Bucky?” You say after a while.

“Hmm?” He hums. He is gently massaging your scalp to comfort you as he holds you.

“We’re having a girl!” You pull back to look at him, a smile across your face. You’ve finally processed the day, its revelations, and Bucky’s assurances, and you’re finally ready to be happy.

“We’re having a girl,” Bucky agrees, smiling and kissing your forehead.

[murdockparker]

Paralyzed

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: She walked in on a Friday afternoon. Steve needed nothing more than to get to know her--if only he could find it in himself to speak to her.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: just pure fluff, mentions of murder (but not frfr)

A/N: no this isn't based on a big time rush song you're crazy anyway!! I think this is my first real Steve fic? The first real one I got around to posting I guess. Cheers!

__

It was a Friday afternoon.

Correction, it was a terribly busy Friday afternoon. Family Video was seemingly the place to be, people swarming the building in hopes of renting new releases for their perspective weekends. Steve usually loathed his Friday shifts for this exact reason, countless questions about the new tapes, a dozen or so mothers berating him when a certain movie is out of stock—as if Steve Harrington himself is the reason behind the madness.

But, this afternoon was different. 

This afternoon she walked in. 

He had enough of the madness, leaving Robin all alone to deal with the wolves for a mere five minutes—he needed to get out of there. With his head in his hands, he sat on an unopened box filled to the brim with different assortments of candy—candy he needed to stock sometime today, a fact he surely couldn’t have forgotten even if he tried. Only two minutes into his escape, Robin came bounding in the backroom, a wild look grazing her eyes.

“Steve,” she nearly panted. “You gotta take over for a minute. This woman is just—ugh—not taking no for an answer! I told her we don’t have The Breakfast Club in stock, but oh no, why trust the employee who rented all ten copies earlier today? Huh? How about we give the girl who makes a little over three bucks an hour a hard fucking time!” Robin was rambling at this point, the words falling deaf on Steve’s ears.

“Robs,” Steve groaned, finally looking up at his friend. “Give me another minute, I have a nasty headache—”

“Me too, Harrington,” Robin sighed, plopping down on the box next to him. “Her name’s probably Debra and she’s a beast in fake leopard print.”

Steve snorted with laughter. “Fine, I’ll head back out there,” he stood up, dramatically dusting off his jeans. “I just don’t know why the hell our help wanted sign hasn’t brought in more folks, we’re dying out here.”

“No one wants to work for Keith,” Robin said simply.

“Damn straight,” Steve pointed, pushing his way back onto the sales floor. The leopard printed demon was nowhere to be seen, much to Steve’s utter relief—he didn’t have the energy to fight her off anyway. Finding his way behind the counter, the doorbell rang out, a pavlovian response nearly spilled from Steve’s lips. “Welcome to Family Vid—”

His heart stopped.

She was gorgeous, like she just stepped out of a magazine ad—the one’s his mom bought, not the trashy shit they sell down at the gas station. Sunglasses adorned her temple like a crown, her hair perfectly falling around the pink lenses. Steve didn’t know what to say, it felt as if he simultaneously forgot all the words in the English language and stuffed seventeen Saltines in his mouth—he was tongue tied.

“Uh, hi,” the girl said softly, waving towards the frozen spectacle behind the counter. “I saw you have a help wanted sign outside?”

Steve could only nod, making a good effort to keep his jaw from falling on the floor. 

“Well,” she smiled, the kind that would make babies giggle at the sight, “I just moved here and sorta need a job so…” A resume was placed on the counter before him. It looked professional—way more than what Family Video could ever hope to ask for from an applicant, anyway. Steve couldn’t stop reading it. She was literally an angel, an answer to his very prayers—every one of them. If he had the power to hire her on the spot, he’d be tossing her a green vest from the back without a second thought. Part of him was cursing the fact Keith wasn’t here to interview her this very second, he needed to get to know this girl. 

“I-I…” Steve tried to speak, feeling his cheeks grow inflamed with embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being so… foolish around a girl.

“Steve, is it?” 

She knew his name. 

Of course he knew she read it off his name tag, he wasn’t that thick, but hearing it come straight from her lips? He could have melted directly into the floor and no one could have stopped him. 

“Yeah, this doofus here’s Steve, I’m Robin,” Robin appeared by his side, seemingly in the knick of time. “Don’t worry about him, we’re getting him the help he needs.”

The mystery girl giggled. “Ah, I see.”

“You want to apply here?” Robin asked, prying the resume from Steve’s—reluctant—hands. “Oh thank God, we’re dying for more bodies around here.”

“I love movies,” she explained quickly, noting how intently Robin was reading over her simple paper. “A-and I used to work at a movie theater back home before moving here, so I know a lot about the recent releases—”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Robin said, leaning onto the counter, voice dripping with secrecy. “You’re probably too good for this place, I mean, way too good for this shit-hole—”

“I need a job,” she repeated, almost desperately. “My folks forced me to move here and I’m trying to save up to get my own place back in Chicago, I’m not built for this small-town bullshit.”

This made Robin explode with laughter and Steve shrivel in despair. She had an expiration date—a way out of Hawkins.

“Well, I’ll make sure to pass this off to our manager—with a glowing recommendation, of course,” Robin winked.

“I appreciate it!” She smiled again, the sight nearly had Steve wishing he had his own pair of sunglasses to wear—it was blinding. “Well, I hope to see you guys around?”

“We’ll be here!” Robin called out, watching the girl walk back towards the door and out towards her car. A hand smacked across Steve’s bicep. 

“Hey!” He finally responded, rubbing the aforementioned spot. “What the hell?”

“I should bring that whiteboard out of retirement,” Robin arched her brow. “You’re positively hopeless, Steve Harrington. What the fuck was that all about?” 

“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve sighed. “She was just—I didn’t even know what to say!”

“Clearly,” she snorted. “You looked like a gaping trout—”

“I did not—”

“This was worse than the girl who asked for a Mint-Choco Deluxe and you handed her a straight scoop of ice cream—no cone. I had to practically chase her out with a stack of napkins and a thousand apologies.”

Steve cringed at the memory. “Maybe…”

“When Keith hires her—and you know he’s gonna—you better get your act together. I don’t wanna deal with…this every day.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved. “Sure.”

And deal with it, she did. 

(Y/N) was her name, Steve had the pleasure of unpacking her new name tag for her first day. He almost wanted to keep it, but figured it would make him look like a crazed lunatic. Patiently, he waited by the front door, hoping to see her pull up in her car, ready and rearing for her first day on the job. Steve begged Robin to allow him the pleasure of training her, given he could somehow speak in her presence, of course. She simply rolled her eyes and agreed to the shift exchange. 

A shiny, cherry-red BMW peeled into the lot—Steve noted it looked awfully familiar to his own car, minus the color of course. It seemed a bit out of place in a small town like Hawkins, but the car had suited her just fine. Everything about her suited her kindly, Steve had noticed, especially the clothing she wore. Family Video was no place for a fashion show, Steve could attest to that himself, but with the way she was practically strutting towards the doors? The parking lot was her runway and he was begging to see more. 

“Good morning!” (Y/N) greeted cheerfully, pushing the glass door open wide.

“Morning,” Steve managed to squeak out. He pushed the unflattering green vest towards her. “Your uniform.” She easily slipped the fabric over her own shirt, the stark whiteness of her blouse really made the green pop.

“Well?” She spun around, twirling like a princess. “Do I look the part?”

Steve could only nod. 

“So what’s the first thing on the agenda? Do y’all have a time clock?”

Steve nodded again, pointing his thumb towards the break room.

“Ok..ay…” She said quietly, walking in the direction she was given.

He could cry—it was so pathetic. The way this girl had him so worked up? How was he expected to train her? No, forget training her, how was he supposed to even talk to her? Steve had been in pickles before, but this one took the cake.

“So you just… don’t speak then?”

She had managed to sneak up behind Steve, who had clearly been deep in thought. Her angelic voice alone made him jump. 

“I-I speak,” Steve explained. “I just… have a lot on my plate currently, s’all.”

“I’m sure working at the Family Video is real hard work, superstar,” she giggled, jumping up onto the countertop. “But I’m glad I don’t have to understand your training through charades."

“I’m pretty good at charades,” Steve said, crossing his arms. “O-or so I’m told…”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she smiled. “But seriously, I really thought you just didn’t want to talk to me or something.”

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 

“So… I should probably show you the computer system for rentals,” Steve tried changing the subject—poorly, but she graciously turned her attention to the computer she so-conveniently sat next to. “Y’know, because that’s like, the entire job.”

The girl leaned in, not daring to remove herself from the counter top, trying to see what Steve was clicking on. 

“You seem tense,” she noticed. 

“It takes me a while to get warmed up to new people,” he lied. 

“What? Like a cat?”

“…exactly like a cat.”

“Well, Steve,” she hopped off the counter, “it’s a good thing I like cats.”

He tried his best to hide the redness flooding his cheeks.

She made Family Video more enjoyable, even after her first shift, Steve thought. He already liked the job enough, spending time with his best friend and getting paid for it was already a huge perk, but now that he got to know her? He might just keep this job forever.

Forever lasted only four months. 

“Steve!”

He peeked his head over the horror aisle, finding (Y/N) staring at him expectantly from the front counter. 

“Yes?”

“I’m dying over here,” she said dramatically, falling over on the countertop. “It’s so… boring.”

“It’s a Monday morning,” Steve said simply, commanding every fiber in his being to not shrug at the statement. “Mondays are usually boring around here.”

“Everything about Hawkins is boring,” she said, not lifting her face up from the counter. “How do you manage living in this God-forsaken town?”

“I don’t think everything is boring,” Steve scoffed, ignoring the rest of the tapes that needed to be put away. His feet were already leading him towards the counter, as if they had a mind of their own. “I mean, I doubt you’ve run through everything this town's got to offer?”

She lifted her head up from the counter, a red mark gracing her forehead. “In the last four months of living here? I think I have. Hell, the one cool place y’all could have had burned to the ground.”

Steve winced at the mention of StarCourt, the wounds still fresh. “It wasn’t that cool…”

“Fine,” (Y/N) propped herself up, head in her hands, “name one cool place in Hawkins.”

“Skull Rock.”

He doesn’t know why he said it.

“Skull Rock?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve sheepishly said, hand finding the back of his neck quickly. “It’s the go-to for the coolest kids in Hawkins—made popular by yours truly.”

“And what exactly is Skull Rock?” Her arms were neatly crossed by the time he managed to look back at her. 

A make-out spot.

“A-an… experience?” Steve squeaked, trying his best to sound cool. “It’s hard to explain, you just kinda gotta go and see for yourself.”

“Huh,” she tutted. “Why haven’t I heard of this Skull Rock until now? Certainly if it was as neat as you say it is I would’ve heard about it by now.”

“It’s underground,” Steve tried to convince her. “Not physically, I mean. It's above ground, I promise. Underground in the sense that only the cool kids know about it.”

She snorted. “Cool kids?”

“Y-yeah,” He tried to double down.

“As in, like, high schoolers?”

“Other people besides high schoolers can be cool kids, y’know,” Steve said, trying his best not to cough. 

“Maybe I’ll ask Robin about it when she comes in—”

“I could take you?” Steve is quick to interject. “To Skull Rock, I mean. Tonight, if you’re free.”

A smile crept across her ruby red lips. “Like a date?”

“Pshht, no,” Steve waved. “Like a thing friends do! An activity of sorts.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“An activity,” Steve corrected, feeling queasy at the thought she may actually say yes. 

As if mulling over her options for the evening, (Y/N) stared directly into Steve Harrington’s brown eyes, pinning him to the spot with such a glare. “Hm. Alright.”

“A-alright?”

“Do you think I have to change for this ‘activity’?” (Y/N) motioned her hands up and down her body, giving Steve actual permission to fully look at her. Her outfit was already sensible enough—she was here to work, after all—he didn’t ever see a reason for her to change.

“Maybe different shoes?” Steve offered, looking down at her feet, adorned with ruby red flats to match her lips. 

“What sort of shoes do you recommend? These are my favorite flats.”

“Sneakers. Something you don’t mind getting dirty—”

“I don’t mind getting these dirty.”

“Something more suitable for the forest,” Steve amended. “Sticks, mud, poison ivy. Would hate for the tops of your feet to succumb to that bullshit.”

“Succumb,” (Y/N) repeated. “Big word.”

“Average word,” Steve mumbled, feeling only a tad bit embarrassed.

“Average is fine,” she shrugged. “I have sneakers in my car. We could go after work?”

—

Six o’clock couldn’t have come faster. 

Steve had spent the last few hours of his shift trying to best plan his escape from Family Video—an escape that involved pulling (Y/N) into his car before Robin could tell her what Skull Rock really was. Thankfully, (Y/N) hadn’t had the mind to tell Robin what their plans were after work yet, but he knew it would come.

The minute hand finally ticked to the top of the clock. 6pm on the dot. Steve practically threw off his vest and ran to the wall clock to punch out.

“In a rush?” Robin asked. 

“Something like that,” Steve said, not wanting to share much more. 

“Well, enjoy yourself Rob!” (Y/N) nearly sang, now standing behind Steve waiting for her turn with the wall clock. “I left the counter nice and warm for you!”

“I know you meant that to sound endearing, but it just sounds gross,” Robin laughed, not even looking up from the book she had been reading. “Get out of here before Keith makes you both work overtime.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” (Y/N) said, pushing her pink sunglasses—which were housed in the tiny locker she used every day—onto her head. “Besides, we’ve got plans.”

“We?”

“Gotta go Robin!” Steve could only shout, pushing (Y/N) out of the small room in the back—it could hardly be called a break room. Containing a small T.V on the wall, a stack of lockers, a small fridge, quaint table and a broken microwave.

“Alright, weirdo,” (Y/N) laughed, “we made it outside.”

Steve hand only blinked, but she was right. Somehow he didn’t recall the jaunt from the break room to the front door, much less the fact they made it out to their cars. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she laughed again, “oh.”

He was sure his face was the near same color as her lipstick—cherry red and probably emitting the heat of a thousand suns. “Are you gonna change your shoes?” Somehow he strung together a full sentence.

“Go start up your car, pretty boy,” (Y/N) said smoothly, “I’ll meet you in a second.”

Pretty boy. 

Start up his car, he did. He fumbled through the few cassette tapes he stored in his glove box, eager to find one she’d like. Though a thought like this had crossed his mind a handful of times, he never thought she’d actually agree to go out with him. No, not go out, this wasn’t a date. Right? 

She had called him pretty boy. 

And he was planning on taking her to the unofficial make out spot of Hawkins. 

Maybe it was a date. 

“There!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sliding into his passenger seat, showing off her worn shoes. “My well-loved sneakers! Just like you requested. How I allowed you to talk me into going to a random forest is beyond me.”

Me too. Steve thought. 

“You’re not going to murder me, right?”

“What!?” Steve had already begun driving to their destination, but her sudden question had him nearly swerving off the road. “No!”

“That’s what a murderer would say.”

“I—why would I…?” Steve was at a loss for words. “If I was going to murder you, don’t you think I’d admit to it at this point?”

“No,” she shrugged, crossing her legs. Her sneakers were red too—her favorite color, perhaps? “I assume you’d admit it right before you kill me, not in transit to the murder location.”

Steve could only laugh. “You confuse me.”

“You love me,” she admonished. 

Maybe he did, and if he didn’t? He certainly could see himself, though, sooner than later. 

It only took another fifteen minutes of driving to reach their destination, parking his beloved BMW in a spot he knew all too well—part of himself cringed that he could admit that, even to just himself. “We’re here.”

“I’m still not convinced you’re not going to murder me,” (Y/N) hummed, hopping out of the car, a spring in her step. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, popping his trunk to dig for a blanket he knew he had left behind for one reason or another. “Come on,” he ducked his head towards a clearing, “it’s this way.”

“You really have to start explaining the appeal, Harrington,” (Y/N) said, pushing past a rather suspicious looking bush, following closely behind Steve. “This trek is nothing to scoff at.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I thought the murder accusations already confirmed that I did not?”

“Yet you still got into a car with me,” Steve said.

“I still got into a car with you,” she repeated. 

As if on cue, Skull Rock, in all of its glory, peeked through the brush and into view—thankfully with no one else around. 

“We made it!” Steve exclaimed, nearly impressed he remembered how to get here. Quickly unfurling the blanket he grabbed, he sat on the ground. “Come on, I promise it’s clean.”

“Doubting that,” she said, still sitting beside him. “So, spill it, what makes this place so cool?”

Steve took a deep breath. 

“I, uh, may have stretched the truth a bit?”

“How far?”

“Huh?”

“How far did you stretch the truth?”

“Not by much…”

“You’re sweating,” she pointed. 

“No I’m not!” Steve said, trying his very best to not look down at his pits, afraid they were betraying him. Looking back up at the girl sitting beside him, her ruby lips were twisted in a wicked smirk. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Nah,” she said, almost sounding honest. “But I also know pretty well what goes on around this rock—sick as fuck, by the way, it really looks like a skull.”

“You know about Skull Rock?” He was nearly dejected, embarrassed, even.

“I do.”

“And you still came here with me?”

“If it meant I could spend some time with you outside of work? Sure,” she said with her brilliant smile. “Though, don’t expect any swapping of saliva.”

“Then why…?”

Her knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped fully around them. “I don’t have many friends here. You and Robin kind of are it for me, at least, since I moved here. I figured I should try and spend time with y’all before I move again.”

Her big move. The one she was saving up for. 

“Back to Chicago, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Though, it’s going to be a while until I do actually move. Who knew trying to rent your own apartment in a big city is stupid expensive? Wait—don’t answer that, that’s a stupid fucking observation.”

“It’s a bit silly,” he agreed, trying his best not to laugh. “But, yeah, way more expensive than Hawkins.”

The sun had begun to set, not that they could see it, through the trees and all, but the sky was now a warm orange. The kind of color that reminded Steve of summer, melted creamsicles and sweet memories.

“What’s in Chicago, anyway?” Steve finally asked, eyes glued to the sky. The question had been on the tip of his tongue since he met her. “I mean, I never really hear you talk much about it—only when you feel the need to dig at Hawkins.”

“It’s where I grew up,” she shrugged. “All of my friends are out there, my life is out there.”

“I mean, you did just say Robin and I were your friends?” He offered, leaning back on his hands. 

She narrowed her gaze, pulling her head up from her knees ever-so-slightly. “Most of my friends are out there,” she corrected. “I just… my dad moved out here for work, a job he literally can’t tell us about—my mom is stuck being some bored housewife waiting every night for him to come home, slaving over a home cooked meal, and I’m just his failure of a daughter who works at a video store.”

Steve knows that feeling a bit too well. 

“It doesn’t even have to be Chicago,” she chuckled, mostly to herself. “I just can’t stay here. My forward thinking mind is too big for this town. I figure, maybe in the city I can find myself, figure out what this planet has in store for me, you know?”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“I mean, I never had the thought to leave Hawkins,” Steve said, still looking up at the sky—darker now, but still orange. “Especially now with all of the…”

How does he explain the Upside Down? Does he explain the Upside Down? No. She doesn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway.

“…you know, the missing people,” he finally said, finding the right explanation. “But the idea of going to a big city, finding my way and maybe figuring out what this big head is good for?” His self deprecating laugh echoed from under the large rock formation. “I get it.”

“Y’know,” (Y/N) relaxed her grip on her knees, “my mom had hesitations about moving here because of the missing people—afraid I was going to go missing too.”

“And your dad still moved you here anyway?” Steve still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact people would move here willingly, especially all that’s been in the news about their small town. 

“I told you, big secret job,” she said, as if that was the only answer. “My dad’s answer to the problem was buying my mom a new kitchen set and me a car.”

“The BMW?”

“Hell yeah,” she snorted. “Though I suppose once I get to the city—any of them, I’ve decided—I’ll sell it. No need for a car if you’ve got decent public transit. I wonder how much I can get for it?”

“Probably less than what you’re thinking.”

“You’re probably right.”

The sun had finally set, leaving a hazy, sort of mystical hue over the rock and clearing. 

“You could come with me, you know,” (Y/N) finally spoke up. 

“Huh?”

“Get out of Hawkins? Lord knows I’d need a roommate. Rent is gonna be insane regardless.”

He pondered the thought. Moving out of this God-forsaken town with practically the girl of his dreams? It sounded too good to be true. “Huh.”

“You obviously don’t have to answer right now,” she said, nearly flustered. Was she flustered? “It was just a dumb thought…”

“It’s not dumb,” he said steadily, truthfully. “Not dumb at all.”

“What? You’re actually considering it?”

“Don’t ask me things if you’re not serious about them,” Steve joked, pointing at her. “I mean, it sounds pretty perfect. Leaving Hawkins, making a way for myself, trying to not rely on my parents… I dunno. Something to think about.”

She only nodded.

“Of course, I can’t leave yet,” Steve corrected, mostly to himself. “I have… unfinished business.”

“Ominous,” she snorted. 

“A man has his secrets,” he smirked, turning to look at her. “Not murder-y secrets, I really can’t stress that one enough.”

“Handsome, funny and mysterious, the full package,” she hummed.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I don’t want to stroke your ego,” (Y/N) said. “Surely you know you’re handsome.”

“I didn’t know you thought I was handsome.”

“I think everyone thinks you’re handsome,” her eyebrow raised. “Especially all those girls who come in to rent movies I know for a fact they have no interest in. Robin says you had a similar effect back at the ice cream place.”

“You’ve talked to Robin about my handsomeness?”

“I’ve talked to Robin about your obliviousness,” she corrected, “I think there’s a difference.”

He felt like his brain was melting. If he had a mirror, he’d check his ears to make sure no pink matter was dripping out. “But you think I’m handsome?” If the lighting hadn’t been as low as it was, he’d probably be able to see just how dark her cheeks had become.

“Irrelevant.”

He found the courage to scoot a little closer to her. “I mean, I think it’s pretty relevant… considering I think you’re pretty handsome too.”

Her head couldn’t have turned faster.

“Beautiful! I meant beautiful! Not that you can’t be handsome,” Steve felt himself choking on his own foot, falling deeper into a hole he knew he couldn’t get out of. “If you’d rather be called handsome, that’s fine by me, but traditionally, you’re stunning—so so pretty and I—”

“Steve—”

“A-and I’m messing this up,” Steve deflates. The crickets around Skull Rock must have been paid actors at this point. Steve made a mental note to bring a can of Raid the next time he came here—revenge of some sorts. “I can’t believe I’m messing this up.”

Something slightly wet touched his cheek.

“I don’t think you’re messing anything up,” (Y/N) said, pulling away from his face. She kissed his cheek. “I think you’re a little silly and overthinking a lot, though.”

“You kissed me?”

“I kissed your cheek, no need to short-circuit,” she smiled softly. “I figured it was a good way to bring you back down to Earth. Did it work?”

He nodded, a bit too fast for his liking. “Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Good,” she said, so sure of herself. “You were really spiraling there for a moment.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

More crickets. 

“Would you have kissed Robin on the cheek? If she was spiraling like that?”

“No,” she said honestly. “Just you.”

“Oh.”

“You took me to the make-out spot of Hawkins,” (Y/N) gestured to the rock above them. “Did you expect me to not kiss you?”

“You kissed my cheek,” he clarified, feeling bolder. “I don’t think that counts.”

“Hm,” she tapped her chin in faux-thought. “It probably doesn’t.”

“I could let you try again?”

“Oh you’d let me?” She crossed her arms, voice airy, light.

“Or I could kiss you,” he shrugged. “Dealers choice.”

“Oh what endless options I have,” she laughed, getting up from the blanket. It was only a little scratchy. “Come on, pretty boy, it’s getting late. My mom is probably worried sick I haven’t made it home yet. Probably waiting by the front window with some terrible dinner in the oven, I assume.”

She offered her hand, helping Steve up off the ground. “You’re probably right.”

“This was nice,” she said, walking back to the car. “Thanks for taking me out here, Steve. I finally found the one good thing in Hawkins.”

“Skull Rock is just that impressive, huh?” Steve laughed, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Something like that,” her smile was just as big. 

--

BONUS: “Pop your trunk, I’ll put this nasty blanket away,” (Y/N) said, circling to the back of Steve’s car.

“It’s not that nasty,” he snorted, fulfilling her request. Climbing into his car and starting up the engine, he waited for her to throw the scrap of fabric in the back. In the corner of his eye, he could see her through the mirror, staring intently at the contents of his trunk. “How long does it take to put a blanket away?” He sighed, hopping back out of the car to join her, realizing quickly why she was just staring in his trunk. 

“Y’know,” she clicked, “this doesn’t really help the whole ‘I’m not gonna murder you’ thing.”

In her hands was his tried and true baseball bat—still outfitted with spiky nails and the very essence of dried blood. 

“I-I can explain—”

“You probably can,” she said, throwing the bat back into the trunk, slamming it shut. “How about over dinner sometime?”

He’d be stupid to say no.

[snek-panini]

Got a bit of a different bookbinding post today. @renegadeguild got an ask from a new binder saying they were intimidated by everyone's gorgeous binds (me too, actually, some of you guys are scary good), and so they've asked people to share their first binds. And I realized I'd never even taken photos of my first one, so here it is, warts and all:

This is E.M. Forster's The Machine Stops, a public domain scifi short story that you can read for free at the link. The first reason I chose it was that it's an interesting story, and I'd bought a print-on-demand copy a few years previously that was just terrible. Baffling cover choices, basic errors in the typeset (like quotes that face the wrong way), weird size that didn't fit on my shelf; just not a good product. I couldn't do it with more indifference than the PoD people. The second reason was that I was too intimidated by the thought of asking a fic writer if I could bind their story and then producing something with a thousand sloppy beginner mistakes, and then they'd want to see photos and I'd have to show them this and it would have been mortifying, but Forster has been dead since 1970 so I could not disappoint him. It was very freeing. I bound it in 2021 as an experiment, to see if I liked this hobby enough to stick to it. The cover is green cardstock and faux leather scrapbook paper that I bought at... probably Hobby Lobby. I added the title later, as a practice project when I first got my Cricut; for the first two years of its existence it had a blank cover.

There are more photos under the cut!

In this photo we can see:

--Too much glue when attaching the leather-print paper, so it oozed out onto the cover.

--Cricut font too thin and too much heat/too long of a press, so the letters have gaps and the glue also oozed out here. It's a continuing theme with this bind.

--I tried to use a bone folder to give it a sharper hinge crease and accidentally pressed too hard and tore a hole in the paper; you can see this in the little white vertical line near the top of the hinge

The fore edge is not square. I actually don't remember why this happened. I may have eyeballed the board position when I made the case, or the paper may have slipped while the glue was wet, or I cut it crooked and didn't notice till later. Either way it's bad enough that the book doesn't stand on its own. There was a crooked man/who walked a crooked mile/and found a crooked sixpence/against a crooked stile./He bought a crooked cat/which caught a crooked mouse/and they all loved together in a little crooked house, and I bet they read this little crooked book from their little crooked library.

Top view, you can see that the case is too big and the text block doesn't sit straight in it. It has no endbands or bookmark, and it's hard to see in this photo but there's glue on the top of it, at the spine. This still happens to me but I know how to trim books now so this bit gets cut off. You can also see that the scrapbook paper has some cracks where its white core is visible. This is why I do cloth or actual faux leather on the spines now. Endpaper shows uneven trim (did I not use a ruler for this??), too much glue causing major seepage, and it doesn't sit evenly in the case. I'm not sure if this is because of the case itself being crooked, a badly-trimmed endpaper, or if the text block is also crooked. Or it may be a combination of all these factors. Unclear.

Typeset photos! Here we see:

--Title page has a page number on it. This is a pet peeve of mine and I fixed it after this book.

--There is no half title, summary, or metadata. All my later binds have these things.

--It's typeset in Times New Roman. Unlike many I don't actually hate this font but reading it reminds me of being in high school so this is the only book I used it for. Baskerville is my beloved now. The font is also much bigger than it should be. It's not huge but it's like a large print book so it feels weird for me to read it.

--Lol what are margins

--Lol what are page headers

--Actually I think I left the headers out so it wouldn't have a header on the first page of each chapter, because I knew about page breaks but not section breaks at this time.

--It's on regular-ass lightweight printer paper. There's nothing wrong with this but I switched to heavier weight paper shortly after to help with bleed-through and the light stuff feels so flimsy now.

--I didn't understand how Word's book fold worked at this time, so when I had to set the sheets per booklet and it had an option for 4, I chose that thinking it would give me 4 sheets of paper (16 numbered pages) per sig. It did not do this. It gave me 4 numbered pages per sig. So every signature is 1 sheet of paper. Every page is its own signature. I am still mad about this but it sure drove home how the setting works and also how to make kettle stitches since you make one after every sig. A book of 48 pages has 12 signatures which is just ludicrous.

--There's no photo of this but it has a piece of printer paper on the spine because I didn't have mull. I did use PVA though. Lots and lots of PVA.

--It's stitched with regular sewing thread, which means it doesn't have much swell for a book with that many sigs, but it's less sturdy and more likely to tear the paper.

And that's that! It probably sounds a bit like I was tearing it to shreds but I actually love this book quite a lot. I learned so many things that I applied to my next binds, it was an invaluable experience. It let me fall in love with the hobby so I could make the awesome things I make now. I've got those all posted on my main blog under the tag #snek makes books, or you can see them all on my side blog @papersnakepress. For a first book it's functional and readable, and still better than the PoD copy I had before. I've been thinking of doing a rebind as a sort of progress gauge, actually. Maybe next year.

[golby-moon]

made a thingy for the @spnfolklorebang and dumped uh a lot of art on it. I now never wanna see and/or draw snow again (good thing it's July ig fghjfhfg)

so first up is the banner, in which I reuse the putting credits on trees thing because I'm very original with banners (at least it wasn't a desk this time gdfgdf). for some reason that sign with the title gives me Club Penguin vibes and I have no idea why, though I'm thinking idk maybe the colors? also look at me forcing myself to get better at drawing forests using that greyed out outline-less object method

drawing the Impala is Hard no matter the angle so I actually used a reference for once yay. just now realizing Dean might be too small but ehh. for this one, I really wanted to emphasize the fact that Cas isn't there at this point in the fic so I drew a lot of empty space in the Impala as opposed to zooming in on Dean and relieving myself of the burden of drawing more Vehicle. also this is my first time drawing snow like that how's it look. also also what no I totally didn't distort various sections of the banner to make the trees in the background what are you talking about

(bonus sketch but I originally just had the Impala all frosty like this and idk I was still somewhat fond of this version even if the fic had the Impala more snow-covered. looking at this now, the frost looks more like salt from the road than anything though :/)

oh no look away it's my attempt at drawing people squatting down ,_, (never a good thing though neither is me trying to shade stuff). nah but I actually found references of Dean and Cas squatting shockingly easily and tried to copy those. still doesn't look quite right imo but an attempt was made so that they could actually see the tiny prints in the snow which I think came out suspiciously well considering. the weird section of snow on the bottom right is supposed to be a slushy sort of river that's partially melted but not really so I tried to make it look kinda melted. also am I the only one who never realized until now that we never saw any of the main characters wearing any sort of winter clothes? they're up to their ears in flannel but don't have a coat or a warm hat??

bonus art piece thingy featuring Phillippe LeChat (the familiar from That One spn episode, since my boy Phillippe is featured in the fic). houses never come out looking quite right and the roof is a disaster but an attempt was made and yeah I did give him huge anime-ish eyes I don't make the rules

the fic this is made for is called "Full Snow Moon" by @mbqnoyolo

(07/06/24)]

[papas-red-box]

Papa’s Red Box is looking for Submissions! 

Have you ever wondered what types of ‘paperwork’ Papas and Cardinals are always doing in fics? Or what kind of homework do siblings receive during classes taught by the clergy? 

Well now is your chance to create your take on those assignments.

Whether it's an academic-style paper for Secondo’s History of the Ministry, a piece of art for Primo’s Drawing 101 class, or a condition report of a ministry relic, it can be submitted here. Terzo’s poetry or photography classes can also submit their works. (Not all of the views might match, do not worry, everyone's ‘branch’ works a bit differently.)

Your work is important regardless of your role as a sibling in the ministry. Here we can showcase all your hard work. 

Don’t have a ‘research’ topic that comes to mind? No worries, we can have a brainstorming session to point you in the right direction. 

“What if I don’t want to work on this alone?” I’m sure some others feel the same way and will be eager to connect over mutual topics.

Don’t you think you can commit to a full research-style piece of writing? We will accept ���write-ins’ debating a made-up ‘previous’ article. Or even a short incident report that describes encounters or conflicts between siblings and ghouls. 

If it feels like something that might come across a Papa’s desk, then it is welcome. 

What is a 'Red box'?

"Similar in appearance to a briefcase, they are primarily used to hold and transport official ministerial papers. Red boxes are one modern form of dispatch boxes, which have been in government use for centuries." Wikipedia

Theme:

The loose theme of this is academia. This should be a fun ministry lore-building exercise. You get to build a new perspective into the inner workings of the ministry. Once again, not all of the views might match, do not worry, every ‘branch’ works a bit differently. After all, this is a ministry-wide collection of works. 

These should be written from an ‘in-universe’ point of view. Meaning that these should feel like they come from a sibling/clergy member’s hand. The potential discussions about magic or ghouls are limitless.   

Why the academic style?

This comes from my urge to write an academic-style paper again. I miss doing visual analyses on pieces of art and think it might be interesting to attempt that with the different pieces of cannon art for Ghost (ie: the stained glass backdrops, papal portraits, or even t-shirt art)

I also feel like Ghost fans love finding the hidden meanings of everything. This is a chance to fully compose those thoughts in a long-form piece of writing for others to enjoy. This means bringing in as many citations as you feel you need to completely defend your stance. 

Format:

This will be compiled into a PDF for all participants to enjoy, share, or even print to have a physical copy. It will be formatted in a way that will be easy to print and bind.

This is so there is no money being exchanged and creators can do whatever else they wish with these pieces. While we aren't collecting money, we are encouraging people to donate to a cause they believe in if they can do so.

Topic ideas:

Want to write about a historical painting but have nothing to do with it afterward? This is your chance to make that urge feel productive. 

Want to create something based on the ghouls that look at them from a research perspective? Great!

Did you do a bunch of random detail research for a fic and want to give it a chance to shine? This is your time.

Potential items:

incident reports (can be written in 3rd or 1st person)

research papers

Clergy member or previous papal biographies

Ministry wide memos

flyers/ads for clubs within the ministry or for ministry outreach. 

Condition reports

art pieces (Must be high res and printable)

‘Class notes’

Word counts:

This is going to be something that we will have to decide after getting in applications. It's all dependent on how many people we have actually wanting to write things vs visual arts.

Deadlines:

Application Open:

August 4th - August 30th depending on the number of applicants 

Apply HERE

Acceptance notifications:

September 13th

Waitlist notification:

(PLEASE NOTE waitlist is dependent on how many applications we receive. This is the last day that you will hear from us if you have been accepted.)

September 24th.

Final Topic Selection:

September 27th

First check in:

October 18th

Second Check in

November 4th

Final submission

November 22th

Estimated Release Date:

Mid to late December. Hopefully all formatting will be done before New Years.

[mikkeneko]

This post got me thinking about plagiarism as applicable to fandom works, and how like many other things that used to be topics of common discussion and common understanding in fandom, no longer are. Got me thinking that perhaps a touchstone on the topic would not go amiss.

Obligatory disclaimers: I am not an IP lawyer, nor a BNF, nor any kind of authority on matters; I am only familiar with copyright and IP conventions in the United States; and I am speaking from the perspective of "I was present for the discussions that hashed this out in excruciating detail in the _journal days, and this was my takeaway from those discussions."

WHAT PLAGIARISM IS:

1) The direct copying of actual text, that is to say the exact same words in the exact same order, from a source text, republished in an independent context without permission or acknowledgement that the text is copied, without acknowledging the original author, or by claiming to be the original author. 2) A dick move. 3) Grounds for specific retaliatory actions in specific communities, i.e., an academic setting or an archive, which may choose to reject a plagiarized work or expel a member of the community found to have done it.

WHAT PLAGIARISM IS NOT:

1) Illegal, in the sense of being punishable by legal action. 2) Using some of the same words, in sort of similar order to the original text. 3) Using the same title as a different text. 4) Using the same story setup as a different text. 5) Using the same characters, settings, plot elements, or narrative arcs as another text. 6) Translating a text into another language. 7) Reading, saving a copy of a work to your hard drive for re-reading, printing a copy for hardcopy reading, etc. 8) Copying out sections of a text in a comment, or as an excerpt to accompany a work in a promotional post. 9) Using a work as reference material. 10) The only kind of dick move there is.

Thousands of hours of round and round debate boil down to this: You cannot own an idea, but you can own the actual words that you write, and you own those words by default, without needing to take any specific actions to that end. (Proving that you own the words is something that you might, under some circumstances, need to take action to do, but really only if someone else tries to stick their oar in to claim ownership for some reason, which is one of the reasons why plagiarism is A Dick Move: forcing people to defend ownership when they shouldn't have to is inconveniencing and unpleasant.)

Even then, there's a fair amount of wiggle room on the topic of Actual Text which falls under fair use. For instance, if you reference a line or several lines of canon dialogue from a book because you are retelling the scene from a different perspective, that is generally considered fair use, but copying the actual text of the entire scene would not be. By the same token if you had a line referencing canon dialogue in your fic, and another person references the same line of dialogue in their own fic, the other person is not plagiarizing you. And if two people in completely separate fandoms reference the same Hozier lyric as a title for their separate fics, that is not plagiarism either.

I also said that plagiarism is not illegal, because strictly speaking it's not. It's an extremely rude thing to do, but it doesn't become illegal in the sense of being punishable by legal action until a lot of other factors start coming into play, most of them having to do with money. At which point the objectionable action is usually not described as "plagiarism" but as "copyright infringement" or other more legally granular terms. (You'll note that I said up above that you cannot own an idea; whether you can own a specific implementation of a character or a setting is another matter, and where IP law starts getting really into the weeds. But this post is only about plagiarism, not copyright infringement.)

Generally speaking, you can't get the law on your side unless you can pose a reasonable argument that the other person's actions have harmed you in some way, including some financial way. This last distinction is the primary reason why fandom creativity has stuck out as long as it has despite our society's (historically speaking) very restrictive IP laws; IP holders are not losing money to sales if fanfic authors are not selling, and they are not losing reputation or recognition if the fanwork is not seeing wide reach.

WHAT ABOUT AI?

That said, there's an awful lot of breadth between what is considered outright illegal and what is considered a really rude thing to do which may start seeing social penalties accrued. Which is why scraping someone else's Actual Text and doing something like feeding it into an AI bot without their consent is an incredibly rude and unpleasant thing to do, even if it does not fall under the definition of Literal Plagiarism, and if a person does this a lot and word gets out about it, that person may find themselves very unwelcome in the community.

[olderthannetfic]

Yeah I mean I’m a big fan of con culture and buying art prints there but I see the legal issues in fandom online being a problem if people are selling physical merch that’s definitely iffy. But out of curiosity, what about when people just draw fan art and post it online completely for free and people just donate to them completely separately not paying for anything just donating to someone they like kinda like throwing a 5 in a guitar case for a musical artist or those people who do character art on the street? Is that a legally dubious area? I don’t feel like that’s a copyright thing?

Also it is strange that art prints are okay but printing a fic and selling copies at cons isn’t okay? In America I mean cuz I actually bought a Japanese doujin once and it was just a fic I couldn’t read lol.

I’m not trying to make a living or anything because I do independent comic work but supplementing with tips is nice. Plus I just like drawing comics.

--

I doubt anyone's going to see legal trouble for accepting tips unless they get a hell of a lot and don't report them on their taxes or something. Most of the objections or lack thereof are going to be about social dynamics.

I don't have a tip jar on here because I think that would add to a vibe like I'm an influencer and everyone else is the audience rather than a more Livejournal vibe where you happen to be seeing the discussion by coming to visit me, but it's more of a community interacting. It's a vibes thing.

People used to sell zines at cons all the time. I think the difference is the desirability of the product (which makes even supposedly hard-line moral stances on fan-made stuff go out the window) and the perception of how necessary it is, how much the price is to cover costs, etc.

If you just print out a bunch of fic in a bad format and try to sell it, most people today will be wondering why you don't just put it online and let people who want to print it do it themselves. There's no sense that this printed version is necessary or special or deserves to be financially supported.

If you make a nice zine, some people will be totally fine with you selling it, including in the US. If you make one hand-bound copy but need your friend to cover the materials fee, pretty much everyone will be fine with it.

[mirjam-writes]

What about you? What writing are you happy about this year?? Is there anything you want to brag about?

Happy Yule, solstice, Christmas, Festivus, (belated) Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Doctor Who Day! And anything else you might celebrate, or happy Monday if you don’t!

Thank you so so much for asking 🧡🧡

This was quite a writing year for me. I wrote only four stories, but I'm quite proud of all of them. To Love Somebody was my first foray in rare pairs. An angsty backstory for Shadwell, and what made him the way he is. It has an hopeful ending, and I'm quite proud of the structure, and how much I managed to squeeze into the small word count. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun is a short and wholesome outsider pov story I wrote for an event. I was surprised how much people liked it! It was also my first attempt on present tense, which continued in A Stable Relationship, one of my FTH stories for this year (the second one will probably be a bit late, and be completed in January). I had fun writing it, and it turned out to be a good one, and the only one of these oneshots that was Explicit. It was set in horse riding world.

The reason why I wrote only three oneshots, and why my second FTH piece is late, was of course my favourite story of all time: Be Still My Soul trilogy. A human AU story set in the sad moments of Finnish history.

Despite the class differences, landowner Azirafel Fjäll and sawmill worker Anton Crowley have been friends since childhood. The Great War rages over Europe and the Empire of Russia is in the firm grip of a revolution. The echoes of these fateful events carry over to the Grand Duchy of Finland, vaguely sauntering towards independence. Azirafel and Crowley find themselves on the opposite sides of a conflict that will eventually lead to a bitter civil war, tearing the country apart.

Is there a possibility for them to find their own side, or will this be the end of their budding love story?

I started writing the third part in January, and finished it just before S2 aired in July. It finished posting in October, and it's now complete and done, though I'm still commissioning art for it. This story took over my life for over two years, and it's my baby. I've had such a hard time to let go of it! It also has its own blog @be-still-my-soul-fanfic where I posted dozens of posts about historical and cultural facts. The story is written in a way you don't need to know anything of the Finnish history beforehand (my American betas made sure of that). It's a lovestory, not a history lesson, BUT if you want to learn more, there's a lot of extra info available 😅

I think it's the best story I've ever written (and probably ever will). Many readers have agreed, but it's angsty with very heavy themes until the happy ending, so it's not for everyone and I think posting it just when S2 aired cut some of the potential readers. The third part of the trilogy is now five kudos shy of 100 kudos, and I'm hoping it could get past that milestone before new years. 😂 So yeah, my own personal favourite gets the least interaction of them all. Oh well.

I'm gonna sound a bit self-absorbed, but I'm proud I finished it and it turned out even better than I hoped. My dream would be to print a physical copy or to record a podfic of that, but both might be a bit too much work.

For the next year I have two zine fics to finish, and I have applied to a third one. I have one event fic in the works as well, but the FTH story will be the one I'll concentrate until it's done. It's an oneshot human AU which somehow grew limbs and now it's 7.6k words and nowhere near done 😱 That's my holiday project.

Thank you for asking!! I was so delighted to get a chance to ramble myself 🧡 There's never enough chances for writers to gush about their own work because it always feels a bit self centered. That's why I like to wander around Tumblr and give people the perfect excuse to do that! Peek at the #writer's favourites tag if you want to see other fanfic writers sharing their favourites! And feel free to use the tag yourself if I forgot to ask someone (I was very much not organised when going through the blogs and I'm not good at matching blog names with writer names 😅)

I hope you'll have a magnificent new year 🧡

[dreamykrimi]

What does this mean?

Well, it means I'm finally finishing Sweater Weather! Surprised? 

I never intended to abandon Sweater Weather. My life took several hard turns in 2017, and as traumatic as it was, it really did change for the better! But that left very little time or motivation for writing. I've had the bones of the last few chapters for years, and I've added to them little by little. In the last year I've become serious about finishing this fic, and I'd love to tell you all about why, but I'll save the personal stories for later. For now, stay tuned: I will be posting one chapter per week until we’re caught up. Each one shot is now a chapter, and has been edited, rewritten, and polished within an inch of its life with the help of my lovely betas. My writing has grown since 2017, and I hope you like the changes I've made. We worked really hard to make Sweater Weather into something worth coming back to. Once we are caught up to Cider Sweet, I’ll continue to post the new chapters that I have finished. As of right now, Sweater Weather is set to be a 100k+ fic in its entirety. 

HOWEVER! I have a confession to make. I have an ALMOST completed version of Sweater Weather ready to publish. I have several thousand words of content that you have never seen ready to go, but the last chapter has been slippery for me. It's hard for me to finish projects like this, projects that have meant so much to me. I want to get it right, and that's a lot of pressure. So I have a request! Please leave a comment and talk to me about this fic. If you loved it or it meant something to you or just made you feel something- anything- please let me know. Your comments inspire me so much, and it's the thing I've missed the most about Sweater Weather. You have all been so kind to me. Please, I'm asking for that kindness again now to help push me through the end of this fic! 

REGARDING THE ORIGINAL FICS: The individual oneshots from 2017 are going to be removed. I won’t take down the AO3 listing, because it would break my heart to lose the comments and bookmarks and kudos that people have left there over the years. However I will be removing the body of text from each fic and replacing it with a link to the new fic. This is your notice to save the originals NOW if you want a copy. I know I get terribly sentimental about things like this, and if that’s you, too, then you may want to make arrangements now. Some of you have told me that you have printed or even handwritten copies of this fic, and I am so flattered by that. But I’m also a bit embarrassed. My old work is just that, old. This new version of Sweater Weather that I’ve been working on is the one I want everyone to be able to save, print, bind, and return to. That’s part of why I wanted to do this. I want to give you a version that I’m truly proud of. But if you’re a silly little freak like me who holds onto old things like they’re treasure, well, this is your chance to be a silly little freak. 

I’ll be posting this message on my tumblr and adding it as a new chapter to each oneshot to make sure that everyone has a chance to see it. I will make another post on my tumblr when I’m ready to start posting the new version and removing the old ones. I don’t know exactly when that will be, but it should be soon! Keep an eye out for me!

[bonesandthebees]

Second, the Glass adaptation. Aren’t there a shit ton of Whatpad books that not only got published, but then also turned into movies? I don’t really think you have to worry about it. From my own experience with writing original ideas, they chance a lot over time, so once you start writing, the world might still shift a little. Also, as you said, you are already changing the character’s and plot. So glass now is just you playing with dolls to iron out the worldbuilding. See it as a first draft you put out there to get feedback on (which very much works since we treat it like a book club).

Also, if you are that worried, it think it wouldn’t be that hard to scrub every trace of Glass of the internet when the time comes. And sure there are some written copies, but I think that rule for that has always been that people can do that if they keep it for themselves. So they should be chill about it.

Either way, this is the same, write for you rhetoric. Rewrite it as an original novel because you want too, and if you can’t get it published, at least you have that experience and you can work on a different story. Also I know an author who writes atla fanfics and publishes “serious face writing” in the form of an original series, and while it’s not entirely the same (as in they aren’t rewriting their fics) I still think that if they are fine, you will be too.

This concludes my covid pep talk. Remember to test yourself we you get sick people because I wouldn’t have remember to do it if a friend of mine (who I hadn’t even seen) told me they had covid.

(2/2)

-🎄

Yeahhhh I know I’m just being paranoid. I already know a lot is going to change with the glass rewrite/adaptation. My paranoia mostly resides in how distinctive the worldbuilding elements are but that’s also why I want to rewrite it so badly because it’s cool so that’s kind of a moot point.

I definitely will have to try and scrub glass from the internet if this ever goes anywhere. I just have to hope the people who have printed copies of it so far keep it to themselves and don’t out me years down the line lol (as a preemptive sort of thing for my own peace of mind I’ve changed my boundaries on my carrd a bit to specify that I don’t want anymore copies of glass to be printed and bound. if someone already did it that’s fine, but just be quiet about it)

Thanks for the reassurance lol I just get really paranoid about this stuff. I really do love the world of glass and I have so many ideas for the story I can tell with the new characters I’ve come up with and I just feel so excited bc I haven’t felt serious about writing an original novel in so long and now I’m like wow maybe I can actually do this

Hope you feel better soon spruce <3

[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.

[castielslostwings]

Hey there, I went to reread Enchanted Ink earlier today, and was very worried to find that it was in an unrevealed collection (after a bit of searching, I realised it was a collection you made, which is definitely a relief) and was wondering if you have a pdf or copy of Enchanted Ink somewhere around that you’d be willing to pass on?

Hi friend!!

Yes! Enchanted Ink is being published as original fiction soon, but fear not! I am my own archive, and fics will always be available to anyone who wants them, I promise. For right now, I have every fic in all of their various downloadable forms available in my discord (and many are still on ao3, ofc), and they will stay there.

The discord started as a community and way to safely distribute the links to my typeset fics, and those are all there as well—I currently have 12 different stories available in print PLUS the original Fire & Ice, and this is relevant because soon, Enchanted Ink will be up as well. I am rewriting and expanding it, which is why I took the short version down, though it’s on my discord in its original form. The discord will be getting free access to the expanded Destiel version of Enchanted Ink in ebook form as well as the option to grab the print Destiel version (with gio’s art on the cover) before the original drops. There will also likely be tattoo-related merch :-D

Very, very sorry for this long-winded reply and for hijacking your question 💀 I haven’t made a Tumblr post about this yet and wanted to explain. I don’t ever want to prevent people from reading my original fics, but I would prefer the removed ones (currently just Enchanted Ink and Fire & Ice) to be distributed through me, especially because I’m rewriting them and the old versions aren’t the best ones.

Down the road I will definitely be willing to DM/distribute any/all for free, but I’m disabled and struggling to make ends meet right now, and I need to help my book launches be successful! I’m self-published and working really hard to try and create a bit of an income stream. I am still actively publishing new fanfics, and I really want to—this will allow me to continue doing so! There’s no obligation to stay in the Ko-fi/discord, either. You can grab your stuff and cancel right away, if you like. This is pretty much the smallest gate I could make.

If you do happen to see my fics being archived or distributed elsewhere, I didn’t consent to that, though obviously sharing a fic between friends is always kosher 🥰 this is a tough line to walk, and I can’t force anybody to respect me or my wishes, I can only ask. ❤️

[compacflt]

Dude you should be so so so so so proud, literally one of the best pieces I've ever read. It's the angst and complex characterization of Baldwin's Giovanni's Room meets the research behind The Alienist (the book, obvi- haven't actually seen the show yet). I adore how you maintained the characters' personal values even though I don't like them most of the time, and I now know way too much about the military in general because I would wikipedia something every third sentence. (Also thanks for that because coincidentally I'm working on a research project on how low-level fighter jet training affects marine animal behaviour, and I actually passed my first oral with flying colours because of the random knowledge I have acquired while reading/because of your fic.) That being said, I desperately want a physical copy on my bookshelf- would you ever feel comfortable distributing one or letting us go get it printed professionally? If not, I totally understand and am more than happy with what we have access to now! Seriously, thank you- it's incredible.

thank you thank you thank you for the ask!! just gonna answer by point

1. i am very proud!!! just extremely editorbrained ie have been trying to fix all the flaws for the last two months straight, and now all i see are problems & flaws that i couldn’t fix…. you guys should see my hard copy of this fic every single page is basically black with pencil. just ripped it to shreds. it’s just a writer thing i think, i am my own worst critic :(

2. if by personal values you mean political opinions … I wish it were like socially acceptable to post my extremely in-depth headcanons about random shit like this because i am so deep in it that i literally wrote out ice and mav’s voting records since 1980. Tldr: conservaDems. registered R but consistently vote D. mav would vote libertarian if his husband weren’t standing over him threatening divorce. after 1/6/21 change their registration to D & are basically just neolib shills. only reason they don’t vote obama in 2008 is that mccain was a navy vet.

3. thank you for the compliment but i am literally BEGGING you guys not to take anything i say/claim in this fic about the military to be true. there are certainly elements of the truth but many of the details i literally just made up. or altered to make plot sense (see IRST discussion ch 9, IRST was SUGGESTED by Boeing in 2007/8, not implemented until 2010ish). so much of the plot simply would not happen in real life. i can make a whole post about this sometime if people are interested cause there is actually so much I could say about real life accuracy in this fic/implications of real life shit…

4. no way???? that research project sounds so interesting??? congrats on passing ur oral!! idk what that means but congrats!!!! coincidentally i am also working on a research project—it’s why i have to stop working on this fic at some point. my senior research thesis is a novel about USAF CSAR chopper pilots so ive been doing so much research over the last 5 months… but about the USAF not the USN. my navy research HAS helped though. so maybe it’s a mutually reciprocal relationship :) i would love to hear more about ur project!!!

[ageless-aislynn]

I got this comment on "The Price" (Killer Frost!Caitlin Snow x Hunter Zolomon, The Flash) (suuuuuuuper NSFW) and it just made me all

(In case it's hard to read, it says: "I have no idea who these characters are, but it doesn't matter. This was delightful and I definitely get the gist of the story ;)")

I'm not entirely sure that, in my entire time or writing fic, that I've had anybody who didn't already know the fandom read something of mine.

And I realized this had hit near to something that has made me really insecure about my writing for, oh, 30 years or so. *shrugs in old* Way back when, I sold a handful of stories to a couple of actual print anthologies and magazines. I was over the moon when the first book came out. I could go in a bookstore and pick up a book on the shelf and my (writer's) name was in it!

I was so excited, I bought half a dozen copies, signed them like a fool, and gave them to various friends and family. I knew none of them read what I wrote back then (action fantasy) but I'd read for years about writers who had people tell them, "Oh, I don't read this type of story but I LOVED yours!" At the very least, I thought people would want to check it out (for free) since it was mine. And I signed it! Like a fool!

Most of them gave me their books back. The ONE single comment I got about the story itself has lived in my head ever since: "So when are you going to write something that's good?"

They thought I was essentially writing trash on purpose because it apparently sold for some reason.

My poor little fragile story, written earnestly with love, my very first published piece, was just trash. If that had been true, it would've hurt a lot less. That actually hurt more than the time I was up for an award and had somebody tell me they felt like they had lost IQ points reading my story because that first one came from somebody who actually knew and loved me. But my writing was garbage to them. Something I was (hopefully, in their opinion) just churning out to get a little bit of money.

You know, I don't blame them for that, reading something in a genre you don't like or aren't familiar with often doesn't read like "good" writing. You don't know the lingo or the beats or can see what was well or cleverly done within the usual structure of that genre. Just like a lot of people won't watch vids for fandoms they don't know but if they do, they won't get the references because they don't know the characters, plots and show itself. It's okay. Nothing wrong with that. Also nothing wrong with reading something and legit thinking it sucks, not because you don't know the genre but because you just don't like it.

I just wish that hadn't gotten in my head so young. I eventually stopped trying to sell my fiction, stopped writing completely for 6 years. That fool who thought somebody would want a signed copy of the book she had a story in... She had joy in her writing, even if it wasn't good.

I've struggled to find that joy again and I hate that I can love something I wrote, then a lack of comments or kudos or hits can take me back to that feeling, as the joy drains to embarrassment. "When are you going to write something that's good?" Well, apparently not today.

I always wanted to write, always thought I'd keep trying until I one day would publish a novel, then a second, then onward. I gave up on that idea. Why would anybody pay for a book that nobody even wanted for free, right?

Writing fanfic was my way of still getting to write but lack of engagement makes it hard for me to keep motivated. It's nobody's fault but my own. These stupid insecurities I've carried for so long, that lingering feeling of embarrassment (nothing like signing your bag of garbage and handing it to someone as if they've even want it!)... I don't know how to get rid of them. Or at least to get them out of the way so that I can just enjoy writing again, with no expectations. Just write it and if I like it, then it doesn't matter if it gets no response.

I don't know. If you're still reading this, I wish I had some inspiring ending to put here, so if you struggle with something like this, it would leave you feeling uplifted and inspired.

This whole introspective thing kicked off with that anon comment, so I guess I'll end with this: if you ever wonder if your comment would matter, yes, it does. I don't know if that anon would ever read this post, but I wish they would know that, with that comment, it was like they'd reached back in time to younger!me, standing their holding their stupid book that had been handed back to me for the nth time. It was like somebody said the one thing I was hoping that somebody would:

I don't usually read this but I enjoyed it. It made me feel something. Thanks for sharing it.

Younger!me would've been really happy to hear that. 💖

[queenofbaws]

Hey Queenie! I hope you're doing better ❤️ For the Weird Questions for Writers: 15, 19, 25

aw man, thanks vicky 🥰 i'm hoping i'm on the mend!!!

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh BOY HOT TAKE HOUR!!!! really getting to the heart of things with this one, huh??? ;P hehehe well, in that order - not really, yes, no. i used to write in my books a LOT more when i was in high school, mostly because i felt like i had a lot to say, hahahah. now? not so much. there are rare occasions where i'll underline passages (and i'll be honest, i have my hard copy of the (almost)s that i keep saying i'm going to read through and annotate asdkfjksldjf), but i just don't usually feel the need. I DO DOG-EAR PAGES IN A BIG WAY! I AM A DOG-EARER!!! most of the books i own are fairly old secondhand paperbacks, and idk i just...i like the lived-in, well-loved look of a book that's got some shape to it, know what i mean? like the FEEL OF IT! i super don't read in the bath, though, mostly because i can barely be trusted to keep my own bones and skin safe in a tub - a book would be doomed immediately.

but i don't judge anyone for what they do/don't do with their books ;) everyone's got different taste, everyone's got different hangups, i get it. the only book-related behavior i judge for is like, leaving gum or other bizarre goo between the pages, because let me tell you. i've seen some stuff in secondhand shops, man...

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

once upon a time, there was a small girlchild named queenie. queenie was constantly reading. one day she realized SOMEONE had to be writing the books she was reading, so she gave it a shot herself. and printed it out. in the family computer room. and left it. in the printer. where her mother could find it. and come to her later asking "did you write this thing about mario?" and she had. she had written that thing about mario.

she never lived it down.

for real tho, my earliest memory of writing like, a full story-story was in thiiiiird grade? and it was called "murder on a school night," and the killer used a power drill. and everyone in my life should've known right then what i was about to be, but for some reason they just let it all fester and now HERE I AM. ;)c i evolved over time, writing vampire thrillers in notebooks i'd pass to my classmates between classes, then eventually posting actual fic on deviantart, and now...ta-dah! there were definitely bumps, my god there were bumps, mostly grad school-sized bumps where all desire to write was wrung from me like water from a sponge, but i'm back baby, and i'm not leaving my shit in the printer anymore!!!!

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

look. it's not going to play. any kind of role in the story i am currently writing, nor any story i plan on writing in the future. but i will say. with 100% certainty. jack "flamethrower guy untildawn" fiddler is aroace. thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

weird writing asks for weird writers!

[ltleflrt]

AO3 tos anon here, thank you for all the explanation.

I actually sometimes wonder myself what’s my stakes in following a lot of spntwitter drama 🙈 I think in this particular case, I just wanted to know the truth. I understand you don’t have concrete proof but as I said I take your word because I know you from outside of the twitter echo chamber and trust you. I also wanted to figure out if AO3 is basically deleting fics just like that but your explanation makes sense as to why they’re doing it.

The fact that reporting trolls should chill, though, I fully agree with.

GAH, THE TUMBEASTS ATE MY FIRST ANSWER. I'm still gonna end up being long winded about this though cuz it gets me pretty heated. I try not to talk about it, but then someone asks me about it and oh lord here I go lol

I honestly don't care if there's a ringleader or just a well organized group. I just wish that the Reporting Trolls would consider printed fics the same as classic 'zines and get the fuck over it. Reporting printed fics can bring down the attention of the IP holders too, so they're not the Fandom Heroes they think they're being.

And when it comes down to it, I don't think they're really trying to protect fandom. If that was the case, there wouldn't be fanfics publicly posted on Lulu that have been sitting their for several years. They're targeting specific creators who have gone out of their way to keep the links hidden or private. So I think there's a kernel of truth to the idea that they're doing this out of jealousy. If it's That One Author that seems to be the ringleader, she may be upset that other people are getting more attention than she does. If it's her fans, they may be upset that their favorite author isn't getting as much attention as they think she deserves. It's even possible that they're not aware of what they're really doing, so they fall back on "BUt pRoFIT".

This whole thing about "but Lulu makes money!" will forever drive me nuts. Lulu would make the same amount of money selling paper and ink on a book that's just 700 pages of the word "Orange" typed on repeat as they would selling paper and ink on a book that's 700 pages of my story. The paper and ink is only worth paying for because of me, and I'm not making any money from the work I'm doing.

Look I can prove that, at least :D

Hell, I'm losing money on it. I pay fanartists to create covers for me. I'm bad at formatting the PDF, so I pay people to format it properly for me. I've spent hundreds of dollars to make these prints look nice and semi-professional. I give away copies for free to the artists and the people who help me with the formatting, and some of these are over $20 because of how thick they are.

Everyone is getting something out of this EXCEPT for me!

*huffs and puffs in irritation*

The AO3 stuff is, unfortunately, squidgy. Over the years I've heard of other things getting reported on AO3 where authors have complained that they weren't given enough opportunity to clean up whatever the violation was, or the AO3 staff wouldn't/couldn't tell them where the violation was hiding. If something is reported, it's going to come down to a judgement call from an AO3 employee. As someone who has had to make judgement calls on things that are grey areas, I can tell you it's tough. And sometimes it's best to err on the side of caution, which is usually not in the customer's favor. Without knowing exactly what was behind the AO3 staff's decision to delete, I can't say whether their decision is fair or not. It is scary though, because it's hard to tell whether an offhand comment will get you in trouble or not, and it puts us all on edge when we hear about something getting deleted.

Anyway, sorry I went on a vent session again. I'm glad you got some answers that at least made you feel better ;D