#yale binds fics

[buskingalbatross]

lo! the conclusion of my phanfic bookbinding quest!

I finished binding together two final books! each one is a 144-page, 28,863-word collection of six of the phanfics i've written in 2024. the book with the starry-cover is unquestionably the neatest, prettiest book i've made since I started learning about bookbinding back in august. but i'm actually kind of emotional over both of them and think they turned out to be really cool objects.

here are some pictures i took of them on this rainy sunday morning (+ a few more under the cut) 🌧️🌧️🌧️

previous bookbinding updates: 1, 2, 3, 4

[qqueenofhades]

37. Shadow of Night, Darklina? <3

37. Shadow of Night

The Upper Reading Room of the Bodleian Library is filled with wan British sunlight, the patrons cough, shuffle papers, click laptop keys, and occasionally doze off on their notebooks, and Alina removes the manuscript carefully from its battered cardboard box, settling it on the foam supports. The box looks like any other in the Bod's vast archives. The gilt-stamped call number on the lid reads Elias Ashmole Collection, No. 782. Bodleian Library, OXFORD.

Automatically, Alina starts her assessment, opening up a new Word document and beginning to type. (It might be cooler if she was doing it with a blood-red quill on ancient parchment, but this is the twenty-first century, and nobody has time for that nonsense.) The codex is surprisingly large, which is an obvious sign of wealth on the part of its maker. The age-browned vellum is still mostly intact, though there's a place at the start where at least three folios have been sliced out with a straight-razor blade. Alina bristles at this literary desecration, resisting the temptation to touch it and find out more. Once she was a witch, if not a very good one. Now she's just a hassled early-career art historian, and she has heard that this is a particularly fine (and crucially for her purposes, under-studied) example of sixteenth-century alchemical illuminations. Her visiting research fellowship at Oxford is only a year, and she wants to go back to Yale with results.

Alina works steadily, making note of the binding style of the quires, the fine gesso layered on the splendid paintings, the places where the text looks as if it has been rubbed off and replaced. She desperately tries to ignore the growing tingle in her fingers, the creeping sense of the illusory and unreal, the unknown and static strange. Ashmole 782 is positively dripping with magic, and this is definitely not something she knew before. Otherwise, she wouldn't have called it up. She has always had an uneasy relationship with her power, and this --

It's then when Alina turns to the huge full-page spread at the center of the book, a magnificent and sprawling illumination that must have taken months for the Renaissance bookbinder to complete. Her heart skips a beat. It's done in traditional alchemical style: two halves meeting to transmogrify a substance into something else, the red king and white queen, sun and shadow. Except the queen is holding a globe of brilliant fire between her hands, blazing like the sun, and the king stands in shadow, beneath a sweeping dark sky studded with stars. He is dark and grave and handsome. Alina would keep looking at him for a while -- except for the fact that the queen has her face.

Rattled, she shuts the codex with a bit of a bang, causing a wave of disapproving looks and hisses to cascade around the reading room. Then she gets up, grabs her things, and returns the manuscript to the check-in desk, swinging her bag to her shoulder. She hurries down the steps and out into the courtyard -- just in time to clip shoulders with someone coming the other way. They reel apart with mutual apologies, and he says, "I am very sorry, Dr. Starkova."

"That's all right, I should have -- " All of a sudden, she stops. "I'm sorry. Have we met before?"

He smiles down at her enigmatically. Just like the king in Ashmole 782, he too is dark, grave, and handsome (not to mention tall), with a look on his face as if he knows something she doesn't. "Have we?"

That, of course, is not an answer. Alina tries to sidle around him, but he is very good at blocking her path. She feels a particular coldness on her skin like the breath of winter, and all at once, she wants nothing more than to be away from him. Witches do not fraternize with vampires in any sense of the word; it's been Covenant law since as long as anyone can remember. But perhaps someone failed to inform this vampire of that one tiny little fact, because he holds out a business card. "I'm interested in your research. Can we speak later, perhaps?"

Alina doesn't want to, but that old good-girl instinct takes over, and she accepts it so as not to be rude. She takes a quick glance, just because she can't help herself. Professor Alexander Morozov. All Souls College, Department of Biochemistry.

Professor? All Souls? Really? At his age? Then again, outward appearance is no guide to a vampire's true antiquity, and Alina edges backward, feeling that this day has been quite strange enough. "I have to go," she says, as firmly as possible. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Dr. Starkova," he says graciously, as if she has anything to thank him for. He keeps looking at her. His eyes are as black as night themselves. He stands so still the air moves around him.

Alina turns and practically flees.

[spooky season fic prompts]

[belovasangel]

Kintsugi

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!GN!Reader

WC: 1641

Summary: Peter needs a push to help an old ally.

Warnings: Swearing, ANGST, hopeful ending

A/N: First off, thank you for reading this. I haven’t written in maybe a year so this might be not the best. I want to shout out Polaroid15 for inspiring me to write. Something else in this fic I should mention, Peter’s identity isn’t exposed and in the Blip he aged according to current-time (so in this he is 18-19)

“In Japanese culture, Kintsugi is the reformative art to repair broken pottery. The shattered pieces are taken and glued back together with a binding agency and gold paint. There is a metaphor between each crack and gold stroke, as the meaning is deeper than restoring a pot. It’s meant to give hope and to empower those who are deemed ‘broken.’ The point is to tell people to embrace their insecurities and you will be okay in the end.”

Peter Parker rolled his eyes and looked back at his notes. The background film of his art history course droned on, as the school stuck the Blipped students into a course to graduate faster. He began to doodle along the sides of the pages, drawing the Spider-Man suit and a few webs. He thought of Ned, sitting on his MIT campus, working on his computer engineering software, and hoped he was thinking of Peter as well. Him and Ned made a pact back in freshman year to attend MIT together and when the Blip hit, Ned kept his promise. And at this rate, Peter will be in their dorm room by March. 

He looked back up at the lecture briefly to watch the credits roll, only to notice afterwards the teacher had fallen asleep at the desk. The other students got the same idea to pack up and leave for the weekend early. Peter began stuffing his notes in his backpack and stood to walk out, only to bump into a fast body.

“Hey-” 

Peter looked up, his backpack falling to the floor in a heavy heap. He looked up angrily, fully expecting Flash to be staring back, however he saw the red-faced (Y/N) staring back with doe eyes. “Peter, I am so sorry...” 

He huffed and shoved (Y/N) back with his shoulder to grab his stuff. “You can leave, ya know? Don’t need to watch me pick up the mess you made.” He audibly heard them gulp and quicken their breathing. With a quick shuffle, they walked out of the class. Peter stood quickly and recalled the events leading to their icy encounter. He can feel sympathetic towards them, as Mr. Stark passed away tragically about a year ago. While Peter has come to terms painfully with his death, he can tell (Y/N) still is struggling. He knows they had a plan to attend Yale or Stanford after this, but those plans have derailed fully. Peter knew (Y/N) wasn’t fully ready to accept they need to grow up and move on. He wouldn’t be the one to put gasoline on an already erupting fire. Hopefully Pepper can say something

He began walking down the halls of the school, remembering the small memories along the halls. Lifting the lockers during Homecoming to get his suit, him and Ned discussing the plans to build the Death Star, and even when MJ first opened her locker next to the two (and immediately asked, “what are you two losers looking at?”). Fond, fond memories. 

Peter hopped on the subway, getting minorly excited to begin patrolling the city. May has plans tonight, he hopes it’s a date so he can spy once or twice, but overall it’s sitting on buildings and eating those amazing subs. The moment Peter stepped into the apartment, May was on him. “Hey, my beautiful boy genius, how was school?”

He laughed as she kissed and pinched his cheeks. “Hey May. It was fine, boring. How are you, need any date prep?” She turned bright red and looked back to the newspaper. “Peter, I told you it’s not a date. Happy and I are-”

“Your date is with Happy?” Peter popped his backpack to the floor with a quick thump. May gave a sheepish look, fully expecting this from him. “Peter I promise you, Happy is super kind and is going to treat me great tonight.”

He sighed, pulling at his hair minorly. “Do I need to chaperone you?” She laughed and shook her head, “we’ll be fine Pete. Anyways, to change the subject, Pepper called you earlier and asked for you to swing by the Tower when you get a chance.” Peter nodded, head still foggy with holy fuck, Happy is going to get with my Aunt.

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and ran to his room, changing into his suit and flopping out the window. Within the first few hours, Peter stopped three guys from breaking into cars, saved a cat from a tree and rescued an old lady from oncoming traffic. As the sun was setting, and Peter got to enjoy the sunset with his sub, he decided to call Pepper.

“Hey Pep, what’s going on?”

He could hear her sigh on the other side, and he took a bite in anticipation. “I need your help Peter. And I know you won’t like it.” With a mouthful of spinach, salami and bread, he said muffled, “you can count on me.”

“I need you to help (Y/N).” Peter promptly spit his sub out of his mouth with a sharp cough and inhale. “What? What’s wrong?” Pepper sighed again. “(Y/N) isn’t okay. They’re only leaving their room for school and that’s it. I deliver them breakfast and dinner, we barely talk between the doors. Plus they come home late every night and I need to know what’s going on.”

Peter bit his inner cheek. Of course (Y/N) is being selfish towards Pepper, seems about right. Peter felt like this was a sign, to finally see what’s going on and help Pepper reconnect with her kid. Yet, Peter didn’t want to give (Y/N) any slack. They’re being rude and not grateful for what they have. “Of course, Pepper. I’ll keep you posted. Does K.A.R.E.N. have her location?”

“No, she turned off her location a while ago. Thank you Peter.” He nodded, knowing she couldn’t see. With a quick end, he threw the mask on and dove off the crane. He searched every alley in all of Queens, ever corner store, checked every rooftop and park and bridge and under every car. He found a huge ass tree and even climbed it. Peter didn’t want to let Pepper down, even if he felt more and more annoyed with (Y/N). He knew they wouldn’t leave the city, but this was getting ridiculous. Eventually, around 11:30 P.M., he found them sitting in front of a large mural of Tony. There were flowers along the painting, along with lit candles and teddy bears. Peter felt his blood boiling, knowing they could have had their location on this whole time. 

“What the fuck are you doing (Y/N)? Pepper is besides herself worried. You’re being so fucking selfish, leaving her alone every damn night. She is suffering, wondering why her own child won’t talk to her while you’re out here hiding! What are you scared of? Why can’t you grow up? He died! Get over it!”

Peter creeped up closer and closer to them, not listening to the sniffling and heaving breaths of (Y/N). As he reached them, he saw they were hunched over and panting. “What’s wrong? Get up,” Peter sneered as he pulled their shoulder back. He let out a gasp and let go, in complete shock of what he saw. Their face was littered with bruises and cuts. Their right eye was completely swollen and the under eye bags were as dark as the sky. “Are you okay?”

They scoffed and pushed away Peter’s hand, and struggled to get off the ground. Many groans and gasps were shed as they stood slouched. Peter quickly noticed the large gash on their side, and he could tell they were severely injured. “We need to get you to the tower right now, c’mon.” 

As he got closer, (Y/N) stumbled back to avoid his touch. Peter scoffed and tried to reach again, but with the same result. “Stop being stupid and let me help you.” They stopped and let out a large laugh. “Now you fucking care about me, when it will make you look good. I can just imagine Pepper telling me how great and caring you are, and how brave you were to go searching for their lost child. Fuck off with this savior complex, Peter, you can’t save everyone! Some people were meant to suffer and burn and fucking die in the end.”

Peter had never felt so confused in his life. He tried reaching out for the third time and was shut down. They began to walk towards him, fire and tears in their eyes. “Do you have any idea how much fucking pain I feel every day? When my father died, Pepper and I were so shattered, but instead of staying with family she decided to work with you, the great and friendly Spider-Man! Why help your own kin when the prodigy is doing just as bad? I am so sick of living in your shadow Peter! It’s like the universe is telling me I was a mistake! You ruined my life. You are the reason my father is dead. You are the reason I wish it was me instead!”

They fell to their knees in agony, letting out screaming sobs and pained sounds. He quickly recovered, wiping his own tears to comfort them. “I am so sorry (Y/N), I am so so sorry.” Peter put his hands under their arms and lifted them into his arms, as fast as he could go to avoid another lash out. He began to swing them back, and in a quiet voice, (Y/N) whispered into his neck. “Why wasn’t it me, Peter?”

And in that moment, Peter realized that some people need help being put back together. Maybe Kintsugi isn’t so dumb after all.

[buskingalbatross]

decided to try and do something crazy with the phanfics i've written and posted this year. for posterity. updates to come.

[buskingalbatross]

phanfic bookbinding update 2 - ☆

...i made a book...

[first ficbinding post][update 1]

so after i finished making the text block, i made the cover, and then attached the cover to the text block. in the process of doing these things i got to visit a lovely little fabric shop in my city that i'd never been to before. i don't go to fabric shops, ever, so I also had to google how to act in a fabric shop - like how to pretend you belong there and can properly ask the shop people to cut you fabric, lol. the experience turned out to be really nice and calm! fabric shops are calming places. or at least this one was.

turns out you can make book covers out of lots of different kinds of fabrics, you just might have to make a few modifications to some kinds. for me and my thin cotton fabric, that meant ironing some stuff onto the back of it on the floor of my laundry room.

i wrapped the blue fabric around cardboard i cut out from cereal boxes, which means the hardcover is essentially cereal boxes. which is. appropriate, given the book's subject matter, i would say.

then it was just a matter of a lot more careful measurements and cutting and semi-stressful glueing and fabric folding.

the result is simple, but for a first book, i like it :D the corners of the cover are imperfect because i didn't quite pay enough attention to the folding, and the spine isn't totally symmetrical, but hey! it actually looks like a book. looking forward to attempt number two! ☆

[buskingalbatross]

phanfic bookbinding update 3 - ☆ [update 0][update 1][update 2]

attempt number two complete! among other achievements, i've leveled up to a two-fabric cover. despite several minorly irking imperfections, i'm pretty proud of this one.

(a few process pics below the cut)

[buskingalbatross]

phanfic bookbinding update 1 - ☆

in this post i said that i made the decision to learn bookbinding so that i could bind together the phanfics i've written this year into a little physical reminder of being here for all of what's happened in the phandom in 2024. and i've made a little bit of progress on my first attempt since then :P

i've created a text block by stitching together the printed typeset and adding black end pages, which will serve as the fly leaves and as a point of attachment for the eventual cover. i've never sewed anything in my life, plus measuring things accurately and creating straight lines are not skills i have ever managed to cultivate - so i consider getting this far a monumental success ☆