#celestial sphere press

[elizabethminkel]

Earlier this week I reported on the very depressing for-profit fic pirating happening in certain corners of fandom—but (somewhat coincidentally, timing-wise) I also had the joy of reporting this story on fanbinding, and the work of the @renegadeguild! Featuring the words (and fanbinds) of the brilliant @celestial-sphere-press, @butterfingersbookbinding, and @fanboundbooks (who also talked about Renegade on the most recent Fansplaining episode).

Renegade's binders are strong proponents of the non-monetized gift economy—they truly embody the spirit of fanfiction, in my opinion, both in the communal way they share their work with fic writers and each other, and in the DIY way they approach making books:

There’s a strong parallel between the amateur, instinctive nature of fanfiction and the act of fanbinding. While plenty of fic is penned by formally trained writers, much of it is not. Tiffo, who binds as Fanboundbooks, likens the reverse-engineering involved in teaching oneself both activities. As writers, people try to figure out why stories work. Fanbinders collectively share the process of learning to turn that work into a physical object—tactile, clean, often beautiful. Fic is largely unencumbered by the forms and structures of traditional publishing, and fanbinders approach their work with the same spirit. “People will often say, ‘How do I do this?’ or ‘What’s the rule for this?’” Tiffo says. “The answer that we always try to throw in Renegade is, ‘This is what other people have done, but know that there is no rule to your book—you can make whatever you want.’”

It's a shame seeing people conflate the bad actors of the pirating situation—many of whom don't appear to be in fandom and seem motivated by pure profit—with the work of fanbinders at large, and seeing people scared to try out fanbinding because of the recent news. Not-for-profit fanbinding is just as legal as writing fanfiction, and I don't speak for all fic writers, but if someone ever bound one of my fics, I'd be so touched I would almost definitely weep. 😭

[celestial-sphere-press]

Fanbinding: Hibernating with Ghosts by @fayet

Getting stuck in Kaedwen in winter had never been on Jaskier's plan.

Hyped to share photos of the set I made at the end of 2023 for the @renegadepublishing annual exchange! In addition to "Hibernating With Ghosts" these volumes include 30 pencil illustrations by @saeculorum-art, the fic's prequel Silent friend of many distances, and a song (The Siren Song) by @stillmadaboutpetra. I was over the moon that they all agreed to allow their work included so i could make this for the lovely Kitty / @perfectlynormalbooks (thank you for the intro to the wonderful fic!!).

This book was bound in Duo dragonfly cloth, with marbled lokta and hand-foiled cover accents. All art not by saeculorum is sourced from public domain woodcuts. I went a little harder than usual on the typeset, but it was a lot of fun and I finally had a good reason to use a vertical header (the chapter titles are SO LONG) and colored dropcaps (i was printing color for the art, anyway!). I justified my embroidery thread spending with a fun five-color color endband, and I colored the top edge.

I had a lot of fun making this and trying our a few different ways of doing things! Thanks again to everyone for a wonderful Renegade Exchange!

[mythrilthread]

A quick bind of Graduate Vulcan for Fun and Profit by @lazulisong, Linguistic Ambiguities in Vulcan Ethical Codes and Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by @elumish as typeset by @celestial-sphere-press

This mini anthology was typeset to look like a thesis paper, so that’s where I went with cover design. Now, thesis works are typically bound very simply in our neck of the woods, usually with just the word “Thesis paper” on the cover, so I went with the deep red I once chose for my own graduation paper and a linostamped Starfleet Academy logo.

(Couldn’t help sprucing it up a bit with marbled endpapers in Starfleet primary colors)

Fun fact: I was wearing a Starfleet science officer pin for my thesis defence 🖖

(This is a rare case of me binding something I haven’t read even a little bit of, so I’m very much looking forward to cozying up with this one!)

[renegadeguild]

Binderary 2024: Week 1

In the Renegade Bindery Discord Server, we are once again running Binderary during the month of February. Attendance is free, and a link to the 18+ Discord Server can be found on our carrd.

Whether you’re new to the world of bookbinding or an aged veteran, join us for a month of binding fun! This event is all about community & learning, be it trying something new or refining existing skills.

All our workshops are run by members of our fanbinding community, and some of them are even on Tumblr!

Here's the list of who's running the week 1 workshops:

Renegade Wrap-up 2023!: @robins-egg-bindery, @fanboundbooks, @celestial-sphere-press Split Board Bindings!: @misanthropiczombie Decorative techniques: from paint pen to gold leaf.: @blackoakbindery Affinity publisher tutorial (Beginner Workshop): @kate2kat Typesetting & Book Design for Beginners: @bearclubbooks Typesetting Digital Formats: @sayornispress Typesetting in Word 365 for PC: @no-name-publishing

[finalfrontierpublishing]

So it's been a while since i posted any books - mostly because i've been hiding my progress like a little sneak.

I just finished this bind last night of The Desert Storm by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, or really it's volume 1 out of like ??? 15, maybe. Please take whatever i say with a pinch of salt (I have had 0 sleep for more than 24 hours, and that tends to make me a little very sleep-deprivation drunk a.k.a. unhinged). Okay, on to thoughts! The Desert Storm was foisted onto me by @celestial-sphere-press who told me under no uncertain terms that I WOULD FUCKING LOVE THIS SHIT. Well, I did. This more than 1 million word epic about Ben Fuckin' Kenobi is pretty much god-tier fanfiction. It reads like a goddamn novel. I can never think of canon again without thinking that this good shit should be canon. I read it and then consumed half of it within a week, and I have zero regrets. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, i absolutely love you and love your writing. It is the best thing since sliced bread. It is better than sliced bread.

I also had the benefit of @celestial-sphere-press saying, hey would you want to use the typeset? MY GOD, i am grateful. I love this fic, i would have typeset it if it hadn't been typeset but Des did such a beautiful job that i am absolutely in awe and thankful that she and the author allowed others to use it. Look at it - it's so beautiful. I only had to think hey, i just gotta design the cover and et cetera and so the book happened.

Please also check out @celestial-sphere-press 's amazing post here and here, who is the only person i know who's started and is almost complete in fanbinding this epic, and is also making an author a copy of the entire series.

Some stats, if you will.

96215 words || 380 pages

Title font: Ghaomiec

I took some inspiration from starblight bindery's lovely desert scape as well as this amazing cover of Dune which i own. I love that the landscape emanates Dune vibes while being oh so Tattooine - just sand and heat, relentless loneliness and melancholy. This fic centres around Obi-Wan Infinite Sadness Kenobi so it needed SAD VIBES TM, which i tried to deliver in desolate landscape form.

Also thank the heavens for Renegade members, who in a masterful stroke of Group Buy Saves Money, managed to source extra-out-of-production colours of Colibri and help a fair number of us get really cool limited edition versions of bookcloth. I am now a proud owner of a lorge stash of Duo and Colibri of which i am now sitting on like a shifty dragon with a hoarding problem. Good luck getting your bookcloth now, Folio Society, ha ha (gloating)! This particular bookcloth is Colibri Copper which has been wholly stashed for The Desert Storm series. I am leaning on transitioning to Malachite for Rise and Fall when I get to it.

The front cover design was done with a stock image and converted to a PNG, which i then fiddled with and did some HTV magic with. It was remarkably easier to weed than expected. I tried something new and ironed the design on the naked bookcloth first before gluing it to the boards, which was a new challenge in making sure everything was aligned.

Endpapers are marbled endpapers (Renato Crepaldi) which I got from Hollanders, which perfectly fit the colour scheme of the bind. The only hiccup was as I was cutting, I realized the sheet was running in the opposite direction of his usual papers and half the size, and only yielded 3 A5 size endpapers and so my heart went noooooooooo. oh well. i guess i will use it for quartos.

Endbands are my favourite - silk in 3 colours in the french doublecore style (as i was binding this i did not have the mental capacity to handle the difficulty of 4 strands). the truth is i usually only can do 4 when I have higher brain function and am willing to spend 80% of my time unraveling it from getting tangled.

I also forgot to mention I had mild fuck-ups, I got glue on the front endpaper which I had to hastily remove with wet cloth, and the back square is preposterously bad but I'm ignoring it for now.

Anyway, i've actually managed to complete a few other binds which have not been mentioned here as they've all been gifts/ surprises or event books in some form. I am SO EXCITED, also because I am travelling in the latter half of July to San Diego and L.A. and I get to meet some bookbinding friends in the flesh. Renegade is fucking amazing y'all. I am ready to embrace these crazy lads who have enabled me for the last 1 year, even when i'm the solitary (1) weirdo from my country of origin in the server. Also... potentially bookbinding trip early next year??? I am enthused.

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Prologue

I'm not super happy with this prologue but I've done my best with it :'). Also I gave God He/They pronouns. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 1227

Warnings: Uhhhh idk unless you count God as one.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

Prologue // Chapter 1 >

Prologue

Before time began, there was her.

Cælitis (Definition): The divinities who dwell within the celestial planes. (Noun)

The Universe – The Beginning

Perhaps it was a coincidence, or a mistake, or there was something far greater beyond the confines of the ever-expanding walls of the universe. They had accepted solitary, thinking they were the only one, the first, when they awoke to a dark abyss, with the veins of creation pulsating at his fingertips. This was what God thought when they reached out for the first time, light bursting from within, shooting out and collecting into a colossal sphere. A star, he had named it, and he had much fun for who knows how long, floating through the endless vacuum, using these fiery balls of fire and gas to light his way. He would make them every colour he could think of, clumping some together to form the nebulas, or shooting some off into the middle of nowhere, just for the sake of it. Sometimes, he would press atoms so close together they would form rocks of all shapes and sizes, letting them wander and float around until they began clumping together into similar spherical shapes. He even swirled some clusters of stars and rocks around, watching as they turned into disks that would spin forever – galaxies, he decided to label them as. Before long, the universe was scattered with clusters of stars, planets, and whatever else they felt like creating, some so big their size was incomprehensible, others microscopic in comparison, and the rest varying in between.

When God had decided to rest their powers for a short while, he hadn’t expected to awake to the feeling that something was off when he observed his work. A small ripple, something he wouldn’t have picked up on if he knew they were the only being currently in existence. It passed through them, and he quickly shot towards the nebula that sat in the centre of his universal domain, their birthplace, so to speak. And what he came across was something very wrong. And he finally came to the realisation that he wasn’t alone.

It looked like a cloud at first. A dark mass that swirled and flared it tendrils around frantically as it contorted in and out of itself. He wouldn’t have been able to see it if it weren’t for the carnage it had left behind, it’s pitch black silhouette a stark contrast against the flickering specks of light behind it – the broken remains of his precious stars and planets.

Though he did not fear it. They knew that if this being had come into existence, it was here for a reason.

The Goddess was a being not many creatures knew about, and God wanted to keep it that way. He didn’t want anyone to know he had an equal, someone, if aware of everything they could do, could rival him and his authority.

He was Creation, and she was Destruction. Not solely there to destroy everything, no. She was brought into existence to ensure there was change, to make sure God didn’t slow down, always keeping him on his metaphorical feet. He had welcomed change when they had first come across her, but not too much. See, he wanted things to progress, but on his terms, so when the flailing tendrils of the Goddess had parted to reveal a mass of black wings and hundreds of very curious eyes peering up at them, he immediately took them under his own wings, teaching them the timeline of the universe around them. Her naivety hadn’t flown past him, she had just come into existence after all, and at this realisation he was delighted.

Billions of years passed by under the tutelage of God, telling the Goddess that she was his creation, what was divine and what was sacrilege. She absorbed it all, enchanted by the ways of what she believed to be her ‘creator’.

At one point, Destruction was overseeing a supernova just outside the Andromeda galaxy when God had approached her, eager to show her something. Reluctant but curious, she agreed, allowing them take her to another celestial plane, gesturing his arms out wide and welcoming her to Heaven.

He introduced her to his creations, his hierarchy of the divine. From the Seraphims, all the way down to the angels. For a time the Goddess resided with them, telling them about her ways of existence, though it wasn’t always received positively. In fact, there was only one creation that was intrigued by her path of dismantlement, a chirpy seraphim named Lucifer, who would spend most of his free time following her around with wide eager eyes, asking questions a mile a minute. The Goddess would always answer truthfully, and soon enough God began to grow weary of the friendly exchange between the two.

It wasn’t long before he was dragging her back through the planes, until they came across a very colourful planet. Entering through the atmosphere, the two floated down until they arrived on top of wall that encased a very interesting sight.

For as far as the eye could see, there was desert, but within the confines of this wall was a lush paradise, filled to the brim with every possible plant. The Garden of Eden.

God revealed two creatures that he had brought into existence, their names Adam, and Lilith, and they were to create the human race. Though his idea didn’t last very long – Lucifer had trailed after the Goddess into Eden one day, going off on another one of his excitable tangents on whatever was flying through his head at the time, when he had come face to face with the cunning and evaluating eyes of Lilith.

Obviously most know what happened after that, and God had quickly created Eve, but when she and Adam both failed his expectations after Lucifer and Lilith tempted them with the apple from the tree, he soon made changes.

The Seraphim and his new wife were cast down into a new celestial plane called Hell, and God then turned to the Goddess, seething, accusing her – that she had planted those thoughts and questions into his creation’s mind. They wouldn’t hear any excuse, leaving her until near the end of Adam and Eve’s once immortal life on Earth.

When he approached her again, they said he had a new job for her, and she followed, hopeful for their friendship to be restored, though doubts began to creep into her mind when she saw what was before her.

Purgatory, he had revealed it to be, was where she would take mortal souls after their physical body expired and sort them between Heaven and Hell. Next was the Underworld, where, if a soul was displaced in either of the two afterlives, it would go there to remain for eternity, or if she decided to send it back to Earth to be reincarnated. It was her new domain, where she would reside when she wasn’t on Earth collecting new souls.

Distressed, the Goddess asked why she was to do this, but God said nothing, only explaining further on what her new purpose entailed, and she grew more and more distraught at the new path he had laid out in front of her. She was no longer to be regarded as Destruction, but instead would spend the rest of eternity to be called a new, more fitting name, one he thought described her purpose of being perfectly:

Death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[outpastthemoat]

look what came!!!!!

it's so beautiful and I'm so grateful to @celestial-sphere-press for turning my story into such a gorgeous book! It's an incredible feeling to hold a story I worked so hard on in my hands. This is a gift I will treasure forever.

[zhalfirin-binds]

Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu & The Vampyr by John William Polidori

This time I'm sharing pictures of a typeset I made for fellow @renegadepublishing friends to bind at an in-person-workshop dimitris_bookbinding_corner (at least some of the fancy pictures).

Look at one of the finished binds created by @celestial-sphere-press

Sooo, about this typeset, what can I say? It was a joy and a pain to create this typeset to meet certain requirements in page count and size as well as getting to use wonderful book illustrations by Alphonse Mucha. Some typos were found, others, well now they stare me in the eye...

While the chapter start pages for Carmilla (on the left) were simply the original frames and illustrations with the text replaced by the text of Carmilla, I wanted The Vampyr (on the right) to look the similar, but yet different from the first story. There was no way around sticking to Mucha, because, well, nothing else went as well with is style than his style. After some experimenting with different works of Mucha I went with his moon and stars cycle in addition to the 1903 cover the 'Paris illustre' and the lithography for Flirt biscuits by the company Lefèvre Utile (today still known as LU)' from 1899 to tie them together.

The Carmilla typeset is actually a merge with the main text sourced from Project Gutenberg and notes sourced from a version found at the University of Pennsylvania. (I also learned the word 'odylic' from these notes. Before I'd have considered it simply a typo XD)

[pleasantboatpress]

Two Solitudes by @emungere

After the fall, Will drags Hannibal out of the Atlantic and they find their way north to a remote part of Labrador, where they try to make a life together.

title/chapter headings/headers/page numbers/body text: EB Garamond

54,491 words | 221 pages

I had so much fun with this bind! this fic is one of my favourite hannibal fics, and I had to do justice to it. the prose is beautiful, I enjoy the plot, and I've just thought about it a lot since I first read it. @emungere if you would like a copy, I would love to make you one <3

I did this as an exchange with @celestial-sphere-press because I really wanted to trade books with her, EVEN THOUGH SHE DECEIVED ME AND GOT ME FOR THE RENEGADE EXCHANGE. SO now I guess I'll have two books by her and it'll be great! I wanted to do classical typesetting, to emulate a book I would imagine that Hannibal would have on his shelves, and I thought the cover would also be a great way to do that! I had fun using stencils on my foreedge painting, but I need to make sure that next time I sand the edges really well before I do it, haha. I had to live up to the beautiful copy of Royal Flush that she gifted me.

I'm sure many people who are into Hannibal have read this fic but if you haven't - please do!

[asimplearchivist]

' 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕒𝕫𝕚𝕟𝕘 '

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ✴ ⤏ you find optimus musing about the past while surveying earth's celestial sphere. you try not to let your personal feelings impair your ability to comfort him. pairing ✴ tfp!optimus prime/reader | (past) tfp!optimus prime/elita one word count ✴ 9.9k a/n ✴ ⤏ everything happy always happens in the first season, sometimes part of the second season if you’re lucky. this takes place right before the omega keys arc hits full swing but right after optimus receives the message from alpha trion via the star saber. (around/between “legacy” and “alpha; omega”.) it’s the moment of serenity before the storm, you could say. ⤏ I've had this fic gathering dust in my drafts for years bc there should have been three more parts between it and 'yosemite falling,' but I'm updating my docs to word files in preparation to transfer everything off my old pc to a new one (which I haven't had a new pc in nearly fifteen years so I'm anxious as hell bc I don't handle change well but I'm also excited so???) and I figured 'what the hell, I'll go ahead and post it since I've been trying to clean out my drafts anyway. ⤏ the word ‘inamorata’ (italian, I believe) is legitimately perfect for optimus referring to elita one and you can pry that out of my cold, dead hands. t r y m e. (and yes, this also implies that optimus knows latin because he’s a giant n e r d .) ⤏ I also used lots of nods and references towards @ss-shitstorm’s backstory for op and elita in fortuna primigenia because she is optilita god. (the only striking difference is that ‘bee isn’t biologically theirs - they just kind of took him under their wing when he was still fresh off the press.)

Something was off.

You sighed softly and opened your eyes, taking in as much of the darkened hangar as you could before you yawned. The kids were sound asleep, as was the Autobots’ newest recruit (who had somehow managed to curl himself around the haphazard circle of sleeping bags and cots in a rather impressive imitation of a cat), and when you looked over you saw that Ratchet was still tapping studiously away at the main terminal, optics dimmed and distant as he worked. When your eyes adjusted you could see that it wasn’t the Iacon encryptions, but what appeared to be a personnel file. You saw a small picture of Smokescreen on the upper left-hand corner and figured Ratchet was either reading in on Team Prime’s most recent addition or filling out a medical file. Either way, it was way past the medic’s bedtime.

You looked back to the slumbering foursome, taking in how Smokescreen’s doorwings fluttered minutely in time with an occasional ex-vent. You smiled warmly at the sight. The newest recruit hadn’t quite found his place among the Autobot family yet, but with how well he got along with the kids you figured it’d be no time before he wormed his way into the elder soldiers’ hearts. You just hoped he wouldn’t take to Miko too much, because you’d sensed a mischievous streak in him the moment you’d found out he’d managed to convince Jack to pull a Miko.

It’d gotten Optimus the Star Sabre, but...that wasn’t the point.

The girl had wanted to hit off Smokescreen’s arrival with a bang, in the only way she thought suitable for someone who knew nothing about Earth - introducing him to slumber parties. He’d been all for the idea, jumping headfirst into the activities it entailed despite him not knowing a single thing that was going on. He’d loved the movies you four had picked out, and had picked up on the concepts and plots surprisingly quickly.

Ratchet hadn't been too enthused about all the ruckus going on, as one would expect, but Optimus had made it a point to soothe him when the medic would begin to grumble too loudly. It was a brief reprieve for the other Autobots, who’d been rather tense of late and needed a little night of fun, and it served to better acquaint them with their newest addition. Bumblebee seemed to get along with him fairly well, and Arcee seemed to regard him with a constantly exasperated but amused air. Bulkhead...acted amiable enough on the outside, but you worried about him. His near-fatal injury and subsequent recovery had hit him hard, and had hit his spirit harder. You’d thought to call Wheeljack to help lift the green ex-Wrecker’s spirit, but...you didn’t think the others would be nearly so inclined to welcome him back so soon after his day trip with Miko. And you’d seen the way Bulkhead’s demeanor would fall whenever he thought no one was looking - you hoped that he would bounce back soon.

You slowly sat up, being careful to make as little noise as you could manage as you slipped out from beneath the blankets and rose to your feet. You padded silently past the recharging Autobot, holding your breath when he twitched and made a soft noise. He settled down almost immediately after, doorwings flaring and closing slowly. It almost reminded you of a butterfly at rest.

You relaxed when you got closer to the main computer terminal, breathing out softly as you reached out and placed a hand on Ratchet’s pede. He jerked minutely under the unexpected touch, peering down until his optics found you. 

He ex-vented, straightening and returning his attention to the screen. “I’m almost finished. Go back to sleep.”

“You can finish it in the morning,” you murmured back, patting the warm metal beneath your palm affectionately. “A couple more hours of recharge than usual isn’t going to hurt you, Ratchet.”

He paused, his mouth pursing briefly, and you worried that he was just going to shoo you away and keep working. He surprised you by ex-venting long and low, hitting one last button and closing the file before letting his servos fall from the keyboard. 

“Fine,” he muttered, tone weary and all too telling. “Fine.”

You smiled gently. “Get some rest, you stubborn old mech. You’re going to need it if we’re keeping the overgrown puppy over there.”

He scoffed softly, but you didn’t miss the curve of a smile he was trying to hide. “You should as well. Who knows what diabolical plot Miko has devised for tomorrow’s activities.”

“I hope she doesn’t drag out the Monopoly board,” you muttered, smirking up at him. “We may as well kiss another Autobot goodbye.”

You shared a stifled look of amusement before you both cracked and chuckled.

“Sleep well,” he said, turning and walking quietly towards the open corridor.

“Sweet dreams, Ratchet,” you returned, watching him go. A sense of peace settled over you and you gave the hangar a visual sweep. Everything was quiet.

But...something still felt...off. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but…

Well, you were still a bit tired. You wondered if you could catch a few more hours with Optimus - you were already mostly awake, but being able to hear his spark whir and his engine rumble beneath his plating always helped soothe you back to sleep.

Read the rest of the oneshot here! :)

[a-strange-inkling]

🤍 A few snippets for Father’s Day… sneak peaks of Eddie and Chrissy reuniting with their fathers:

1.

June 8, 1988

Chicago, Illinois

Eddie holds her hand tightly in his as they walk side by side down the street to their car, keeping a low, steady eye on her breathing, her short strides, making sure she doesn’t exert herself or, God forbid, his greatest fear, trips on something and falls. It’s not that she isn’t being careful, but she’s been a little on the tired side the last few weeks as they grow closer and closer to her due date.

As if sensing his worried thoughts, Chrissy squeezes his hand and casts him the most radiant smile. God, she looks so beautiful today. She came to pick him up from work after her classes, donned in her long, flowy white dress covered with purple flowers and a matching cardigan, glowing like a celestial being from on high when she entered the rundown garage, leaving his every oily gremlin of a coworker breathless.

He caves, smiling back, the constant worry inside him ebbing under the warmth of her sweet admiraton.

“…So, what do you want for dinner tonight?” he asks her, feeling a light strain in his stomach after his grueling shift.

“Oh,” she flushes all shiny and pink, looking up at him with another dazzling smile and dewy eyes, making his heart skip a beat. “I thought maybe…”

He presses his lips together, already knowing where this is going.

“Macaroni and cheese?”

A whine drags out of him playfully. They've had that for dinner the last three nights. She can’t seem to get enough of it. It’s all she wants.

“Jesus, baby, again?”

She nods all cute, biting her lip as she leans into his side, knowing all too well she can have whatever she wants. “I already picked up the stuff!” She chimes jovially.

He moans softly. “Chrissy…”

“It’s not me! It’s what Livvy wants,” she tells him innocently, smoothing her hand around the sphere of her perfect baby bump. “I can’t help it.”

“Oh, really?” His hand slides down her back, pulling her into him by the waist so that he can caress her tummy too. “What Livvy wants, huh?”

She giggles, nodding again, very matter-of-factly.

He chuckles in reply, pressing his lips to the side of her brow. “Well then, can’t really argue with that can I—”

“Hey kid.” A voice calls from a few feet behind them, cutting him off. Eddie goes very still, everything inside him growing cold.

No.

Chrissy glances over her shoulder in confusion, but Eddie grips her arm tightly with a tug, stopping her, keeping her next to him. He can feel her worried gaze on him, but he just stares ahead.

It can’t… it can’t be.

Seven million people. What are the fucking odds?

“Eddie?” she whispers nervously as the seconds tick by.

Closing his eyes tightly, he flexes his fingers before slowly turning around to find him dressed in worn jeans and a brown leather jacket, leaning against an old black Camaro at the curb.

It’s him.

He’s rougher, face a little more worn with traces of silver in his dark hair and stubble, but it’s him.

“Thought it was you,” the older man drawls deeply with a slow smile, Eddie’s smile, his eyes glinting as he looks between he and Chrissy, lifting himself casually from his perch. “Shit you grew up.”

“…Yeah,” Eddie replies, his voice dry with warning. “That’s what happens after…what? Seven years?”

He feels Chrissy’s palm rise up to his chest, right over his heart, her eyes wide and shaking as she takes in the approaching stranger.

She knows.

The resemblance is undeniable.

“Well, seem to be doing alright for yourself, regardless.” His father looks down at Chrissy through lidded eyes, noting her round stomach, then back to Eddie in amusement. Eddie resists the urge to shove her behind his back, out of his line of sight. “Well, kid… aren’t you going to introduce us?”

It’s a playful challenge that makes Eddie square up. He has no clue what version of this man is standing before him. “…Chrissy,” he says finally, staying very still, not letting her go. “This is Robert, my father.”

“H-hello,” she greets softly, holding out her left hand politely, unsure what else to do. “It’s nice to meet you.”

His father takes her offering and kisses the bend of her fingers, grinning devilishly through his teeth. “Pleasure, darling.” His eyes sparkle with his age old charm. “Aren’t you just a pretty little thing?”

Chrissy pulls away sharply to hold Eddie’s arm, giving him a small, amiable nod.

“Girlfriend?” His father guesses.

“Wife actually,” Eddie corrects him with a tight, bitter smile. “Your daughter-in-law.”

“Ahhh,” He scoffs loudly in disbelief, eyeing her belly pointedly. Chrissy frowns, squirming under his scrutiny. “You don’t say?”

His dark eyes flit up to Eddie, pointing a finger gun at their unborn child with a click of his tongue. “Yours?”

“Yeah, Dad… she’s pregnant with my child.”

Your grandchild.

2.

July 11th, 1988

Chicago, Illinois

He’s going to remember moments like this till the moment he dies. These moments with Chrissy resting against his chest, cradling their daughter in her arms as he holds them both close to his heart. There’s this deep, warm thrumming between the three of them, this serenity, this wholeness he’s never known before. Olivia, their sweet little Livvy, is sound asleep, having just been changed and fed and ready for a long nap after being praised and adored all day.

It’s tiring work.

Eddie watches her through heavy eyes. He has never seen anything so precious. She’s so, so tiny, so perfect, he still can’t believe she’s real, her long lashes resting against her soft rosy cheeks, her thick dark hair covered by the pink crocheted hat her mother made for.

Chrissy’s still awake, just barely, marveling at their bitty creation, relishing the quiet and calm after those long hours of terrible, joyful trauma. Her delicate, yet resilient body is lax against him, tucked perfectly between his folded legs. And there they have stayed, hardly been able to take their eyes off of their daughter.

Eddie leans down, trailing warm kisses leisurely along the rise of her cheek. Chrissy purrs in contentment, her lashes fluttering closed.

“Mama’s sleepy,” he whispers in her ear.

“Mm’not sleepy,” she yawns in reply, making him chuckle out loud.

He strokes her soft, golden hair lovingly. “Oh no?”

She shakes her head, smiling gently. Eddie nuzzles her neck, all his warmth and love radiating off him, hers for the taking. He feels her sigh, soft and happy.

“You alright?” They’ve been like this for almost an hour or so. “Need anything?”

“…Maybe a little thirsty,” she admits.

He glances over his shoulder at the small fold out table where both their empty mugs rest from breakfast. “Want some more tea?”

“Mmm…” She hesitates with a small pout and he knows she’s torn, not wanting him to disrupt the harmony of their tenderly woven nest, but certainly needing a little sustenance by now.

“I could use some coffee too,” he tells her, taking the fall. “And I need to call Wayne to pick up some dinner.”

“Alright,” she relents with a huff, reluctantly lifting herself off his chest and leaning forward so that he can pull himself to his feet. Eddie tucks them in, reaching for her pillow and setting it up behind her to hold his place while he’s gone. He smoothes her hair and runs his hand over his daughter's bundled little tummy.

He kisses Livvy’s forehead, then Chrissy’s lips, lingering there. He’s not all too keen on leaving them either. “I’ll be right back.”

She smiles against his touch, glowing in the sunlight as she caresses his face. She’s never been more radiant. “We’ll be right here,” she whispers and his heart soars.

It’s quiet in the lobby that afternoon when he makes his way down stairs toward the cafeteria. Wayne went back to their apartment after lunch to catch up on some sleep and to check up on things. He'll have to be on the road back to Indiana real early in the morning.

A voice at the front desk stops Eddie in his tracks, well a name rather.

“Christina Cunningham…well I suppose it would be Christina Munson now, she would have given birth sometime in the last few days…”

A record scratch goes off in the back of his brain, but his mind is still spinning as he turns around sharply. Chrissy’s father and her little brother, Matthew, stand and wait while the receptionist pages through the list on her clipboard.

Eddie stares at them, frozen in shock, unable to move.

The kid, well not really a kid anymore… he has to be around fifteen, notices Eddie first. He frowns, nudging his father’s elbow.

Philip Cunningham looks up, eyes widening as he takes him in. Eddie stays still and quiet as all three of them stare uselessly at one another.

Philip finally clears his throat and straightens, turning to fully face him. “Hello Eddie, I don’t know if you remember me…”

“I remember.” Eddie replies shortly. It’s been two years, but it’s hard to forget the man who just stood there and did nothing while Chrissy, his own daughter, fled her home to escape her volatile mother.

His muscles tighten suddenly as he looks past the two of them, eyes searching the lobby, his heart beginning to race.

“My wife isn’t here,” Philip assures him quietly, glancing down at his son whose frown has deepened into a scowl. “It’s just the two of us… We’ve come to see Chrissy… and the baby.”

Possession grips Eddie first, makes him take a protective step back, looking over his shoulder in the direction of their room. He’s had his fill of fathers showing up out of the fucking blue… but Chrissy…

Philip was the only one who ever responded to her letters she sent home. Nothing from her mother… and nothing from Matthew either since they left Hawkins. But her father always replied, going so far as to send her a huge check to pay for the rest of her college tuition sometime during her third semester.

An olive branch of sorts.

But still… he’s never come up to see them. Not for their wedding, not when Chrissy was pregnant… it was only ever letters.

“If she wants to see us,” Philip adds, noticing his hesitancy. “We don’t want to impose… if you don’t want us here, we’ll go.”

Eddie turns back to him, meeting his gaze slowly. He can see the pain behind his gray eyes, the sadness. “No… She’ll want to see you… um it’s just, she’s doing okay now, but she’s been through a lot and…”

Philip nods calmly. “I understand.”

Eddie nods back once, glancing down at Matt. The boy’s eyes darken and he sees a little glimmer of his mother’s hatred in him. “Does um… does Laura know you’re here?”

“She does,” Philip replies firmly. “She knows our reasons as well.”

“…Okay.” Eddie murmurs, not needing to hear anymore.

They both sign in before following him back up the stairs to their small hospital room. Eddie inhales deeply before knocking gently, opening the door partially.

Livvy’s awake now, staring up at her mother with her big, dark eyes. Chrissy’s staring right back, smiling when she finally lifts her gaze up to him.

“I think she sensed that you left—” She pauses when she sees the look on his face. “What is it?”

He swallows. “Hey sweetheart, um your—your dad and brother are here.”

Her mouth slowly falls open in question. “My…?”

Eddie opens the door the rest of the way, walking over to her side to let Philp and Matthew filter in behind him.

She gapes up at them, stunned silent. “Dad… Matt…”

“Hi, sweetie,” her father greets, eyes rimming with tears.

“You’re…You’re here.” She whispers in disbelief, her voice shaking a little.

Eddie places a hand on her shoulder, slowly easing down in the chair next to her the moment she looks beyond the two of them into the darkness of the hall nervously.

“We’re here,” her father carefully approaches, while Matt lingers in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets. He’s still wearing a bit of a scowl, but unable to hide the emotions in his eyes at the sight of his sister. “Just us.”

Chrissy looks a little saddened, but utterly relieved at the news as her father comes to stand on the opposite side of her, taking in his daughter for the first time in two years… and his granddaughter for the first time ever. Livvy blinks up at him with her big beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry it took us so long.”

“I’m…” her voice breaks a little, her hand rising to blindly find Eddie’s on her shoulder. He takes it, his thumb swaying soothingly over her skin. “I’m so glad.”

Her father uses his sleeve to wipe away the tears that escape him, carefully placing a hand on the top of her head, smoothing down her crown, gently kissing her forehead. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, Daddy.” She sobs softly, making him break. She looks down at their daughter, lifting her a little so that he can see her better.

“This is Olivia,” She tells him with a watery, proud smile. “Livvy.”

“Oh, Chrissy…” Philip breathes as he lowers himself down to their level, Olivia’s eyes gazing right into his soul. “She’s so beautiful.”

Chrissy sniffs, her smile widening as her eyes fall back down to her baby. “I know, I can’t stop looking at her.”

“I don’t blame you.” Philip laughs joyfully.

Chrissy shyly looks over at her brother, who softens a little under her gaze. “Hi, Mattie.”

“…Hi, Chris.” he murmurs.

“You’ve… you’ve gotten so tall.” The pain in her voice makes Eddie squeeze her hand.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he says, slowly shuffling over. His father steps back to let him stand beside her.

He meets Olivia’s gaze and they stare at one another quietly for a while before his eyes lift back to his sister. “D-did it hurt a lot?”

“Yeah,” Chrissy breathes with a firm nod, so elated that he’s here, that he’s talking to her. “But like, a happy hurt, if that makes sense.”

He looks a little worried. “…You’re okay now?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She tells him, glancing down at Livvy and then back up at him. “Would you like to hold her?”

Matt’s eyes widen in terror at the notion, staring down nervously at the baby as Chrissy pulls her hand free from Eddie and holds her out to him.

“…Okay.” He carefully leans down, following his sister's guidance as he cradles his niece in the crook of his elbow, lifting himself back to his full height. “Am I doing it right?”

Chrissy’s smiles brightly. “You’re doing great.”

Matt’s eyes mist over as he laughs and sobs all at once, overwhelmed. “She’s so tiny,” he chokes out quietly, sitting beside Chrissy on the bed when she scoots over to make room for him.

“I know,” Chrissy cries softly, leaning her head against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Mind her head, Matthew.” Philip instructs, lifting his son’s elbow up a little as they both continue to stare at her in awe.

His eyes raise to Eddie’s after a while. “She favors her father.”

Eddie smiles a little at that.

[stingandsnoutbindery]

Advent Anthology by @pacific-rimbaud

A Compilation of PR's one-shot entries for DHr Advent, years 2020-2022.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Relationship: Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger

Art by the wonderful @chestercompany

My binderary baby and second fanbinding project.

read below the cut for the process and other binding deets.

Quick Specs

20,015 words | 179 pages | Quarto (1/4 of Letter)

Technique: Flatback bradel Title & Body Font: Libre Baskerville (in various style emphasis)

Fics included:

Les Pelerins (10k; 2020 entry)

I'm Never Lonely When I'm With You (5k; 2021 entry)

On The Virtues of Inexhaustible Burning (5k; 2022 entry)

Pac is the type I could trust to write anything and I know I'll absolutely love. Her advent fics, in particular, I especially adore. The writing is very visceral and I will not admit how many times I've reread these.

On The Book

I had not intended to bind any book/s for @renegadepublishing's binderary because of my hectic schedule, however FOMO won over and this book was born. It was a relatively quick design and typeset (I really do better under pressure lol). I wish I could say the same for when I started the actual binding though. This is the 8th book I’ve bound and I had expected it to go relatively smoothly, but this book fought me every step of the way and I'll indulge in expressing my distress on this post.

First, the print place I go to messed up my typeset, thus me having to travel back home to use our old crappy inkjet (that took 3 hours to print). And because said printer is crappy, I had to use 100gsm short grain to minimize show-through, and well, you can imagine how stick straight the pages are. Second, I made the case too small (I worked on the book after a toxic 12 hour lab day and was not in the right state) and instead of redoing the covers, I re-trimmed and repainted the fore edge (at cost of my lovely margins ..wails). Third & last, the vinyl refused! to stick to the cover and I proper burnt the HTV as well as my finger on my iron. In the book's defense, it was my first time using leather paper and I forgot to test their chemistry.

On The Bind

Everything else went swimmingly, aforementioned shit aside. I tried not to make this book scream Christmas and leaned into a more subtle theme through color choices. I finally got to use this lovely red leather paper from Itoya, which my parents bought me during their trip in Japan. Many thanks to @celestial-sphere-press for helping me out with the shops to visit!

The design cover was made on Illustrator. The words are actually the fic prompts which I arranged in concentric circles, inspired by the arrangement of the advent candles in our local church from years back. I have no idea what paper my print place used, but it has some nice pulp to it.

As I said, I melted the HTV and certain parts refused to stick, so I peeled all of it off, except for the spine title (which miraculously stuck) and used my foil quill pen instead. I used an off-brand one and it's really good!

I also did this sort of strip across the edge which I learned is called a "river" as Nic @bindsbymunchkin called it. The side near the spine though, looked asymmetrically empty, so I added the foiling. And as this is an anthology, the punctuations was a design choice to convey the start and end and pauses in-between stories (and mostly because they just look fancy lol).

Like my last bind, the edges are gold which is comprised of an undercoat of diluted dark gray Sakura acrylic paint and many layers of Liquitex iridescent gold acrylic ink.

Endbands are made with alternating colors of cream, gray, and gold DMC cotton threads, however I'm learning I don't very much like how sewn endbands look on small flatbacks.

The endpapers are my fave. I had already tipped in plain cream cardstock but then I was like: this book needs MARBLED PAPER! so I ripped off the one I had stuck and replaced it. It's actually not real marbled paper HAHA. I sourced it from this site, printed it on some heavy paper, and oh my god I believe the universe really meant for me to find this pattern because it coincidentally matched the colors of the endbands!!

On The Typeset

I wanted to keep things cohesive but also give each story its own character. Libre Baskerville was a lovely typeface to do that on.

From left to right: Les Pelerins, I'm Never Lonely When I'm With You, On The Virtues of Inexhaustible Burning

For Les Pelerins, I wanted to mimic the silhouette of the establishments in Montmartre, hence the varying heights of the letters. If I wasn’t on a time crunch, I would’ve spent more time editing the headers but alas this is what we get. INLWIWY is more straightforward– a pinecone, which was a recurring theme in the story. And I think OTVOIB is my favorite. I drew tiny gold cracks onto the coal rock which is a significant element in the story. It still gives me that stomach flip whenever I reread it (iykyk).

[celestial-sphere-press]

Carmilla (Le Fanu) & The Vampyr (Polidori)

Starting off the new year right! I was incredibly blessed to spend 8 days in January in Athens, Greece, attending a leather bookbinding course taught by dimitris_bookbinding_corner alongside a lovely group of fellow @renegadepublishing members from around the world!

Dimitris was a fantastic teacher, patiently dealing with all of our in-jokes, quips, and my bad habits (even if they made him cringe 😂). His teaching style satisfied my own thirst to know *why* you do something, not just that you're supposed to do it. Dimitris also challenged us to push outside of our comfort zones (I'm sorry guys before this every endband I ever sewed I opened up the book for every tie-down. yes, even all the ones in the last post.). I learned so much, and I hope to be able to put it into practice in the future. I highly recommend his classes!

We bound a stunning Carmilla + The Vampyr combo typeset, created by fellow Renegade member @zhalfirin with art frames from Alphonse Mucha. I got a chance to work on leather and brass tooling skills in person (both things I was very nervous about!), repped Star Wars a lot, eat delicious Greek food and snacks, and best of all, the opportunity to spend a whole 8 days in Greece with the best group of people (and a whole lot of friendly cats!).

[nyaagolor]

Kirby stared out at the star, its bloated, swollen surface rippling with energy. Crests of flame twisted out from the shifting crust, a billion chemical reactions sparking deeper under the surface as it writhed and pulsed like a living creature, a brilliant light show on display for its swan song. It was every color at once, a rainbow blazing so brightly that it had become unseeable, too intense for Kirby's eyes at least. This song and dance was not for Kirby, or anyone else. This final chorus was meant only for the universe. 

Kirby leaned forward a bit, forcing his eyes to stay open even in the face of the blinding whiteness. Beyond the celestial brilliance, deep within the core, he could see energy snaking around, expanding and contracting like blood vessels. He could see stardust-- a billion swirling, unidentified elements and waves of magic-- dancing within the star, as fascinating and alive as a backlit egg ready to hatch. The star itself, despite being a simple flaming ball of gas, was alive, breathing in and out with the universe in unsteady, labored beats. The star, like all living things eventually do, was dying, the magic inside of it threatening to spill out any moment. 

Kirby pressed his paws together and shed a single tear for the passing of one life to another as, with the deep resounding silence like the coldness of the dark universe, a calm settled through space. 

And then it burst.

For a brief moment, space was white. Light exploded from the star's insides, zipping into space in a massive tidal wave of energy and magic, farther and faster than any living thing could even dream. When Kirby opened his eyes, the aftershocks of the explosion still ringing in his ears like a bell, he saw the rest-- glistening rays sticking out in all directions as the source of the light grew smaller and smaller, revealing the star's remains layer by layer. 

And oh, what an exquisite corpse it was. The network of magic was still etched along the space its core had once occupied, red and orange and white. Plasma swirled like clouds in the inner sphere, a fine mist covering the superheated core within. As the light faded and Kirby floated closer, it came into view, blazing more and more brightly against the dark sky in that it looked almost like it was absorbing the light around it. The remains of its star-- its egg-- floated away into the abyss as the core took form. Kirby was almost on top of it now, holding his breath as the warm, delicate mists of stardust brushed his skin and beckoned him closer.

The star had opened itself, all its magic and energy and life seeping away into the dark void of space to rain down on other planets and grant life to them as well. But here, now, there was no longer a star. There was no longer magic or energy or fire or chemicals. Instead, floating in the dark night, was a tiny shape, features just barely coming into view as Kirby held out his paws.

It turned to him, a rainbow of colors swirling around its body and melting into the bright white as it settled into its new form. Its limbs took shape; its face took shape. 

And then, by some power he could not describe, Kirby felt the beginnings of a miracle. The cosmos had leaned in to surround them, wrapping them in its warm, celestial embrace. Kirby felt the heartbeat of the universe, the steady in and out breath of every living thing all at once. He felt the oceans and skies, the grass and the stars, the overwhelming chaos and beauty of everything as he reached out to cup the face of this tiny, impossible being in front of him. Kirby pulled them in close, seeing how they shined even as the last of the supernova had returned to the space that had made it, and watched as the little child in his arms opened its eyes-- filled with the secrets of galaxies-- and smiled.

[add1ctedt0you]

Some jc-centric fics that I enjoyed and I recommend because I can.

Jiang cheng with his family

a case of chronic rejection by aishiteru

chronic rejection: the gradual rejection of a transplant, months or even years after surgery.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966011

What Is The Worst Lie You Have Ever Told Me by HeronS

Halfway between Guanyin Temple and Lotus Pier, Jin Ling’s sword plummets. Jin Ling has a question for Jiang Cheng.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411682

interstitial by alessandriana

The shouting still hadn't quite faded from the steps of Jinlin Tower when Jiang Cheng realized Jin Ling was nowhere to be found.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36940933

The Sky is Empty by Tavina

Sect Leader Jiang comes by on the first of the month every month to square the accounts with the various vendors around Lotus Pier, much like his father did before him, though Jiang Cheng did so with more scheduled regularity than Jiang Fengmian ever did. He liked to keep things tidy. That was his mother’s influence on him. . . Or: Lotus Pier in stages.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45902719

grief and the mountain by theundiagnosable

The slow purpling of the evening sky makes their robes blend into their shadows, their shadows blend into the still water stretched out before them. Home, Jiang Cheng thinks, satisfied, and A-Ling exhales softly against him, and everything is good, and none of them move to leave.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30638351

(this one is chengqing too, but it's not the focus)

Chengqing

fusion of light elements by singeli

His hands return to her lower dantian, calloused palms fanning out above her pubic bone, pressing down with his weight and his spiritual energy as if to test her. It is not nearly so hard as he could be pushing. She has felt the full weight of his body on top of her before. This is not that.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25770376

Prescription by sugar_shoal

Wen Qing raises an eyebrow. “You brought me to Lotus Pier for my medical expertise, Jiang-zongzhu. I am allowed, and I quote, ‘anywhere the hell I want,’ provided it’s to keep a Jiang disciple from dying.” Damn it, he had said that when she first came here. He hadn’t meant him; he’s not a disciple. And anyway – “Pretty sure I’d notice if I was dying,” he points out. “Unless you’re here to stab me to death with your needles?” “You haven’t frustrated me to that point. Yet. No, I’m here to give a prescription: Delegate something, or die of overwork.” --- Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing bully each other into letting themselves have good things.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38249668

Xicheng:

Picture of the Turning Sphere by omphalos

Lan Xichen is a broken man no longer able to trust his own judgement. Jiang Wanyin was broken long ago, and he healed... badly. The cultivation world is off-balance, and it hasn't gone unnoticed. In the middle of an icy winter, a comet appears in the sky. Is it a warning? A celestial dragon? Have the gods, weary of waiting for cultivators to sort out their own mess, decided to take action? Over the course of three seasons, the two sect leaders are forced closer as they attempt to appease the gods and rebalance their land. Perhaps, in the course of their adventures, they will also find a way to rebalance themselves. TLDR: In which a fiery plot device in the sky forces two lonely, broken men to sort their shit out and find everything they'd been lacking in each other.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31208090

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.” Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398563

the haunting of Jiang Cheng; all of a death is going home | 赴死如归 by finedae

“Terrible news! Jiang Cheng has died!” “Sandu Shengshou has died? Who could have killed him?” “Who other than his shixiong, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng dies, and he would to clarify: it was not because of Wei Wuxian, he wouldn't grant him that honour -- poetic justice be damned. But he lingers on the mortal world as a ghost, spirit unable to move on. In an effort to figure out which part of his unfulfilled life still tethers him, Jiang Cheng has until next summer's first storm to figure out why he won't simply die before Wei Wuxian dumps his body in a Lotus Pier lake and he is stuck remaining a spirit for eternity, with no consciousness or sentience as time moves on, adrift forever. In other words, Jiang Cheng has a year to die properly and to do this, he must live.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25309120

Chengxian (kinda, not much really)

[a vessel for your good intent] by sugar_shoal

I have a core again, Wei Wuxian thinks as the snow piles up around him. A core and a life and warm wine and a warm bed and a willing, wonderful man waiting for him, and these things all fill him. Nothing is wrong. He’s fine. He takes a drink.  --- Wei Wuxian gives away his golden core, and gets something in return.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36882988

Mianmian x jiang cheng

Courage was my companion by Erisette

Mianmian almost thought she’d gotten away with it with her dignity completely intact, until she found herself on the floor of her small room in tears because she didn’t have any outer robes that weren’t yellow.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161407

[finalfrontierpublishing]

Remembrance by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning

I finished binding Remembrance by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, which is the next part of The Desert Storm Epic. This is currently volume 2 of a projected 14/15 volumes!

some stats:

97,852 words || 384 pages

Title font: Ghaomiec

i'm still using the lovely @celestial-sphere-press' beautiful typesets. Sticking with the current theme, i decided to do Coruscant this time, with the Jedi Temple front and centre. Egged on by Des, this design is something like 10 times more complicated and took an entire hour to weed. The bookcloth is Colibri Copper, while endpapers are @renato-crepaldi, whose papers i love. I finished the bind with gold and brown silk endbands in 3 colours. Am likely to vary it up a little with the next volume with a different bookcloth colour, just for kicks.

Next up, I do have one more FFWAD bind to complete, and once i'm done with that, my physical stack of textblocks will have decreased to 4 (SUCCESS) and i can let myself print more things. Am working on my list of author copies as usual, slowly but surely.

i'm also waiting on legal paper (in the right grain this time) very excitedly, because i want to make more legal quarto books.