#and went to a used book store today and this copy from

[dduane]

Of parsnips and parsnip soup

So the question of parsnips, and particularly parsnip soup, came up secondary to this quote from an interview with Terry Pratchett. (Thanks to @captainfantasticalright for the transcription.)

Terry: “You can usually bet, and I’m sure Neil Gaiman would say the same thing, that, uh, if I go into a bookstore to do a signing and someone presents me with three books, the chances are that one of them is going to be a very battered copy of Good Omens; and it will smell as if it’s been dropped in parsnip soup or something in and it’s gone fluffy and crinkly around the edges and they’ll admit that it’s the fourth copy they’ve bought”.

And when @petermorwood saw this, he immediately reblogged it and added four recipes for parsnip soup.

These kind of surprised some folks, as not everybody knew that parsnips were an actual thing: or if they were, what they looked like or were useful for.

The vegetable may well be better known on this side of the Atlantic. (And I have to confess that as a New Yorker and Manhattanite, with access to both great outdoor food markets and some of the best grocery stores in the world, I don't think that parsnips ever came up on my personal radar while I was living there.) So I thought I'd take a moment to lay out some basics for those who'd like to get to know the vegetable better.

The parsnip's Linnaean/botanical name is Pastinaca sativa, and in the culinary mode it's been around for a long time. It's native to Eurasia, and is a relative to parsley and carrots (with which it's frequently paired in the UK and Ireland). The Romans cultivated it, and it spread all over the place from there. Travelers who passed through our own neck of the woods before the introduction of the potato noted that "the Irish do feed much upon parsnips", and in the local diet it filled a lot of the niches that the potato now occupies.

You can do all kinds of things with parsnips. The Wikipedia article says, correctly, that they can be "baked, boiled, pureed, roasted, fried, grilled, or steamed". But probably the commonest food form in which parsnips turn up around here is steamed or simmered with carrots and then mashed with them: so that you can buy carrot-and-parsnip mash, ready-made, in most of our local grocery chains.

It also has to be mentioned that most Irish kids have had this stuff foisted on them at one point or another, and a lot of them hate it. (@petermorwood would be one.) I find it hard to blame anybody for this opinion, as one of the parsnip's great selling points—its spicy, almost peppery quality—gets almost completely wiped out by the carrot's more dominant flavor and sweetness.

Roasting parsnips, though, is another matter entirely. They roast really well. And parsnip soups are another story entirely, as it's possible to build a soup that will emphasize the parsnip's virtues.

So, to add to Peter's collection, here's one I made earlier—like yesterday afternoon, stopping the cooking sort of halfway and finishing it up today.

I was thinking in a vague medioregnic-food way about a soup with roasted bacon in it, but not with potatoes (as those have been disallowed from the Middle Kingdoms for reasons discussed elsewhere. Tl;dr: it's Sean Astin's fault). And finally I thought, "Okay, if we're going to roast some pork belly or back bacon, then why not save some energy and roast some parsnips too? The browned skins'll help keep them from going to mush in the soup."

So: first find your parsnips. I used four of them. You peel them with a potato peeler...

...sort of roughly quarter them, the long way...

...then chop them in half the short way, toss them in a bowl with some oil—olive oil, in this case—spread them on a baking sheet, and season them with pepper, coarse salt, and some chile flakes. (I used ancho and bird's-eye chile flakes here.)

These then went into the oven for about half an hour, and came out like this.

While that was going on, I got a block of ready-cooked Polish snack bacon out of the freezer.

On its home turf, this is the kind of thing that turns up (among other ways) sliced very thin on afternoon-snack plates, with cheeses and breads. But we like to score it and roast it to sweat some of the fat out, and then use it in soups and stews and so forth.

So I scored this chunk on most of its sides, browned it in a skillet, then shoved the skillet into the oven for twenty minutes or so. Here's the bacon after it was done.

While it was cooking, I made about a liter of soup stock from a couple of stock cubes. If you can get pork stock cubes, they'd be best for this, but beef works fine.

This then went into the pot and was brought up to just-boiling while the bacon and the parsnips were chopped into more or less bite-sized chunks. After that, the meat and veg were added to the pot and the whole business was left to simmer for a couple of hours while I went off to do some line editing.

Finally I turned it off and left it on the stove overnight (our kitchen is quite cool, it was in no bacteriological danger from being left out this way) and then finished its simmering time around lunchtime today.

And here it is. (...Or was. It was very nice.)

...Anyway, this is only one of potentially thousands of takes on parsnip soup. Recipes for more robust versions—based on mashed parsnips and more vegetables, or different meats—are all over the place.

Meanwhile, as regards how much damage this soup could do to your copy of Good Omens if you dropped yours in it, I'd rate this at about 5 damage points out of 10. ...Call it 5.5 if you factor in the chiles. Soups along the boiled-and-mashed-parsnip spectrum would probably inflict damage more in the 7.50-8.0 range. But your results may vary: so I'll leave you all to your own experimentation.

#parsnips #parsnip soup #Good Omens #Terry Pratchett #Neil Gaiman #recipes

[broke-on-books]

😍😍😍

#accidentally slept through my only class today #which whoops sorry. (my 9am english) #which kind of killed step 1 of a plan of mine but thats okay #anyways THEN i had to go downtown to pick up this award bc i forgot to show up to the ceremony like a dumb dumb #but the building was like a 25 minute walk and it was COLD (punishment for my dumb dumbness tbh) but anyways i got there early so i walked #around the block and then went inside and picked up my medal #and i was already far downtown so then i popped my head in a couple of stores as i slowly walked back #got a few things from target. new hair clip nail polish m&ms pens and then a mango. very excited to eat that either later today or tomorrow #then i popped in the calligraphy store and then the comic shop and looked around. saw some white ribbon in the calligraphy store which ive #been looking for but didnt get it because it was a bit wide and kind of expensive and i want a lot for my project idea #(want to write out some of my favorite poems on them in sharpie and then use it to accessorize) #and then i went to the comic shop and peeked around. saw a nubia issue and a few gl 2021s in the discount bin but i didnt get them bc #they were all middle issues and i havent read those books yet although i do want to someday bc my guys were in them. one of the gl 21s even #had simon on the cover so i was very !!!!!!!! thats my guy!!!!! #didnt buy anything there but i did ask the guy to make sure to order a copy of the spirit world tpb so ill stop by to get that in a few wks #and then i went to the bookstore cafe and got a cold brew and did a but of English there. they have tables in the stacks its nice. the one i #grabbed was just surrounded by old paperbacks of sci fi and thrillers lol. didnt see anything id read but recognized a few author names like #card (no enders game though) and the pern lady (idk her name i havent read it). anyways did half a blog post thats technically late (ill #backdate though dw) and then packed up and i grabbed a gyro from the halal cart on that block which i just finished back at my dorm <3333 #anyways good times. now im gonna try and spam some work and go to freaking trivia team for the first time in a month later. oops #blah #oh and i think the halal cart guy may have given me a free soda. unsure abt that though bc its possible it came with and i was just being #silly again. so anyways i had a ginger ale too

[guardianspirits13]

Ok. I’m still trying to gather my thoughts and settle my hyperfixation after episode 3 of the Percy Jackson show, but one of my conclusions is that this is one of very few adaptations that actually understands the term ‘adaptation’ and furthermore what makes one successful.

On a fundamental level, understanding and respecting the source material is a must. You need to not just know the bullet points of the story, but you need to know the ‘why’s’- why does this story need to be heard, why do people like it, why does it stand out from the others in it’s genre, etc.

Second, you need to deconstruct the source material and piece it back together in a way that makes sense for the new format. Copy-pasting almost never works, since there will inevitably be discrepancies between the readers’ imagination and the adaptation that can distract from immersion.

Third, you need to provide something new. Why does this story deserve to be told in a different format? What can this add to the original themes of a story? What can we change to make the message come across more on screen? Will this dialogue really be as funny when it’s said out loud?

We’ve seen a lot of terrible “adaptations” of animation and books and musicals into movies/tv shows, and I think even among the better ones there is a dissonance between the desire to stay faithful to the source and the desire to make a good adaptation, with whatever changes that may necessitate.

I think while we’ve watched the casting of this series, the hints here and there, and final the premiere with bated breath, they’ve been playing the long game. They cast Walker as Percy before he was in the Adam Project. Many people expressed…unsavory…feelings when Leah was cast as Annabeth, but those of us that trusted the team behind this project- including the author himself- did our best to welcome her and were repaid tenfold with her performance in this episode particularly.

Most of the scenes in this episode were not at all how I imagined them in the book, but I adored it. They took what they were given and expanded on it. They created a mini-arc for the trio learning to trust each other. They gave Medusa a labyrinthine lair. Annabeth is a 12 year old walking into a convenience store for the first time in 6+ years with $200 in her pocket, of course she’s gonna buy as much as she can carry.

The love and care and artistry that went into this single episode brings me so much joy and gives me so much hope. Like I was already excited for a faithful adaptation, but seeing these characters come to life on screen, once you see their chemistry with each other and how they speak and push and pull at each other’s emotions, it has never been more clear to me the amount of care and foresight that went into this show.

Rick said that these kids are the characters he created and for like 2 years I’ve trusted that that was true, but today it was proven beyond the shadow of a doubt.

I am just…in awe.

#nothing but praise here #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo episode 3 #pjo tv #pjo tv show #adaptation #pjo meta #walker scobell #leah sava jeffries #rick riordan #percy jackson #jess’s thoughts

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2, day 1

Danny had no idea what he was doing. There. He admitted it. He had found a book of spells that reminded him of Sam and stole it on instinct. He didn't have much money after running away. He didn't even have the chance to grab one of his Go Bags as his parents fired on him.

Good news was that ghost powers made it very easy to steal stuff. Now with a book that has actual magic spells in it? He'd never go hungry again! It was kinda weird though. New dimension or not he didn't think a grocery store would sell multiple copies of spellbooks just out in the open like this. They were clearly new and a product or modern manufacturing so it wasn't like it was some ancient relic or anything.

Hmm. A mystery for later then. In the meantime he was going to go around Gotham turning rogues and random jerks into frogs! It went pretty well. There was a mass Arkham breakout not too long ago and Danny was having an absolute blast sneaking up and froggifying people while wearing a cheap glittery devil masquerade mask. Once suitable frogged he trapped them in a magic bubble and left them on the rooftops for the bats to find.

This went awry however when one of the local vigilantes, Robin, tried to attack him from above. On reflex he turned Robin into a frog and freaked out, "Okay. Crud. Okay. I can fix this!" He said while picking up the tiny vigilante, "Just promise not to hurt me and i'll turn you back!"

The angry ribbiting told him that the vigilante would agree to no such thing, "In that case," Danny used his ghost powers to make a human sized ice cage and placed the frog inside. The cages bars were thin but sturdy. It would take Robin only a few good hits to break out of it but by that time the mysterious magic user would have had a head start.

Unfortunately, Danny had just started the spell that would turn Damian back when one of his siblings, Tim, got the jump on him...and got similarly froggy for it. Now there were two frogged bats and a startled magic user.

Danny looked up at the rooftops to see more and more bats staring at him. And the just froggified Red Robin. And the frog version of regular Robin. In a cage. This looked bad. After dodging a batarang Danny apologized to the frogs and quickly yelled, "Not today satan!" At batman before dropping a smoke bomb and teleporting away.

Later at the batcave Damian and Tim were placed in different enclosures to keep their new forms healthy and to prevent any frog on frog violence as they sort this out. At first they thought this was a meta who could turn people into frogs but that was quickly ruled out due to Damian and Tim both typing on devices and telling them about the ice powers.

Thus begins Danny's attempts to find the frogged siblings and turn them back before he gets stabbed by an angry bird and Robin and Red Robins attempts to escape to find this magic user cause it was clear that he had cursed them by accident and had wanted to turn them back right away.

They're family keeps trying to stop them though saying its too dangerous to go out as a frog and they don't know what that magic users intentions were. They didn't really have much choice however seeing at Constantine couldn't help them.

The trench coated brit and said this magic was like nothing he had ever felt before and he would have to do some research. Which lead to the boys swinging across rooftops as amphibians and probably making more than a few people question what was in thier coffee.

#halloween prompts #prompts #fanfiction prompts #dp x dc #danny fenton #danny phantom #tim drake #robin #damian wayne #red robin #yum #magic #danny is going to get caught up in a custody battle isnt he? #adoption bait danny

[writing-mlm]

jason todd x reader please 😔

The ShopKeep and the Hobbyist [J.T]

Summary: Jason's been going to this bookstore for long enough that he's developed a bit of a reputation with them. If only the cute cashier would understand he's trying to flirt but as fate would have it, one knife chase later, and maybe they're more than worker and costumer. Pairing: Jason Todd x Male!Reader WC: 7.3k TW: use of fag but its a quote

Jason traveled out of Gotham once a week, always on a Sunday, always to the same location for three entire hours. Everyone knew that Sunday from noon to four— accounting for traffic and eating out that might happen, that Jason was absolutely unavailable. Unless you physically went to track him down. 

But that’s yet to happen. 

It’s Sunday and Jason arrived at the normal spot earlier than usual. Traffic was amazing, no accidents on the way out of Gotham, and the highway was thankfully void. He parked his bike in his normal spot, right in front of the store, and lifted the visor to the helmet before heading inside. 

The Open Book had always welcomed Jason, even when the shop was closed in the middle of a blizzard. And he helped where he could (Wayne Enterprises always made a large monthly donation to the shop and for some odd reason, someone had gifted the shop a fake bird that is able to stop any thefts(odd)). 

“New shipment came in today,” The store owner's grandson greeted him, leaning across the counter to grab at the basket of free candies the shop offered. “Snagged this vintage-looking book collection for ya.” Ever since word that a Wayne kid visits the bookshop, sales have grown so it’s hard keeping certain items in stock. Especially the fancy-looking titles. 

“Do tell,” He grabs a bite-sized chocolate and rips the packet open while you set your lollipop wrapper into your apron pocket before ducking under the counter. 

   “Shits heavy,” You grunt, slamming the box onto the table and read the label. “Uhh, ‘William Shakespeare, Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies. Published According to the True Originall Copies, 1623.’ Original is spelled wrong, though,” You look up at him and pause at his wide-eyed, clearly shocked expression. 

“Shakespeare fan?” You ask, opening the flap to the box. “There’s a bunch of them in here. I think this was someone’s collection.” 

“Do you know how much it’s worth?” Jason laughs, peering into the box, and then whistles. 

   “Probably a hundred at the most,” You shrug and he slaps the table with a loud Ha! that makes you look at him, crossing his arms. “Fifty?” 

“Try nine mil,” The lollipop falls from your mouth as you look from Jason to the book collection. 

   “For all of it?” You gape. 

   “For the top book,” He corrects. “Thank god you snagged it before someone who cared did.” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, staring at the book and taking in all of the details. That’s more than you’ll ever make in a lifetime. “What should I do? Do you want it?”

“Want it like I need air,” He admits, handing you another lollipop. “But you should probably auction it, get a stack and whatnot.”

“Grams would get pissed,” You shake your head and slide the box towards him. “Believes books should be read, not stored as an artifact, yknow? Think she marked this box as a hundred, want me to ring it up?” He looks at you and takes his helmet off so you can fully see his are you stupid? look that’s plastered on his face. 

   “(Y/n),” Jason slides the box back. “This is worth more than every single book in here!” And as much as he pained Jason to say that, he knew it was true. With over two entire floors filled with books, they were but a drop in the bucket compared to that singular box sitting between the two of you. 

“It’s just paper and ink,” You shrug, staring at the box. “Besides, she’d get mad if I did and I can’t exactly hide nine million dollars!” Sighing through his nose, he agrees to buy the box and has you set it aside while he goes about shopping.

“You’re staring,” Someone tells him as they walk past and his head spins around to see who it is. It’s one of your younger sisters, around twelve or thirteen, if he remembers right. 

   “Wasn’t,” He tells her and picks up a book. “I was looking at this book!” She turns back to him and raises her eyebrows at the title before grinning. 

   “Didn’t take you as an Ice Breaker fan,” She chides and walks away while Jason stares at the book. It could’ve been basically any other book. Putting the book back, Jason returns to his actual book shopping which only takes ten or so minutes. He knows his bag is going to be heavy with the Shakeseapre books so he can’t get too many other books this week. 

“Light load,” You comment, scanning the books. “You bought this one a month ago, too.” You note, holding off on scanning A Good Girls Guide to Murder. 

   “My sister wants to read it,” He explains, flipping through the pages. “And she likes to dogear pages.” Cringing, you scan the book and read him his total before leaning against the counter. It’s a large enough counter that most of your body can rest against it while he pays while you use your phone to order some lunch. 

“That place sucks ass,” Jason comments as he’s putting his card away. You roll your eyes and look up at him. 

   “I’m hungry as shit and there’s no good places around within a reasonable price, this place has decent grilled cheeses.” You justify and he finishes paying. 

   “What would you have gotten?” He muses, leaning against the counter so the two of you are face to face. Staring at the sad picture of a grilled cheese you huff. 

“Five guys,” You admit, looking back at him. He nods, silently urging you to continue while looking you up and down, his eyes slowly moving. You also don’t notice it or the small smile on his face when you don’t move away from him. “Strawberry milkshake and grilled cheeseburger.” You finished. 

   “No fries?” He asks and you shake your head. 

   “I don’t really eat fries from there,” You admit, fiddling with the skin around your nails. 

“Sounds good,” He tilts his head a bit, grinning so his canines are showing. He watches as your eyes dip once and then twice to his lips before they finally stay on his face. 

   “It’s fucking good. An arm and a leg, but still,” Standing up, you groan and stretch. He stands up too and puts on his helmet. You watch and wait for him to dip his head down before giving his head two pats. For good luck, of course. 

When he leaves, you return to your seat and look over the shop. There’s a dozen or so people inside, some people who are clearly not there for books as they’re recording those random interviews with the tiny microphones and such. You should really stop them, maybe put up a sign or something. But they’re leaving anyway. So it doesn’t really matter. 

“Did you kiss?” Your sister asks, walking over to grab one of the candies.  

   “Girl,” Your face scrunches and she tosses the wrapper at you but it falls short. 

    “Just saying, seemed awfully close.” She shrugs. “I would’ve made a move on him a long time ago.”

“You’re ten.” Huffing, she huffs back and puts her hands on her hips. 

   “Nineteen,” She corrects. Making a talking motion with your hand, she smacks it away and throws a fireball candy at you. “That’s why you’re forty and a virgin!” 

“Neither of those are true,” You stress, tossing the candy back into the bowl. “And didn’t you just get dumped by some loser who said he’d absolutely eat a turducken covered in chocolate?” She rolls her eyes and walks behind the counter to sign into work. 

   “I dumped him,” She corrects. “Unlike your failed relationship with the guy who wanted you to pretend to be a woman.” 

“Too low,” You sigh, shaking your head. “Too low.” 

—

With your lunch break in full swing, you’re upstairs in the break room watching some crappy straight-to-DVD movie your father had bought years back while eating the very sad grilled cheese when the door opens. Half expecting it to be another family member, you don’t look away from the TV and give a small hey but when no one replies you look towards the door and hum surprised to see Jason there. Even more so on who let him in 

“Missed me?” You grin, watching as he closes the door behind him and rolls his eyes. 

   “Little delivery,” He corrects and motions for you to turn back to the movie. You do, albeit a bit hesitant to do so, but you try not to look back when you hear him getting closer. “Close your eyes, too.” He adds when you look as far back as you can without turning your head. Groaning, you cover your eyes with your hand just to prove you’re not peeking and hear him set something down on the spot next to you. 

“See you next week!” He pats your back before snatching the half-eaten grilled cheese from your hand and you take it as a sign you can open your eyes. You’re not even upset he’s eating your lunch, it wasn’t good. Looking at what he had set down, you see the familiar white and red bag and crack a smile. 

   “You got me Five Guys?” Your head whips to the door but it’s already shutting and you can hear his heavy boots quickly running down the stairs. Turning back to the bag, you pull your phone out and scroll to find his contact. 

Thank you

we feast tonight 

The two of you don’t text much, mostly if he had forgotten something in the shop or given him a heads-up that the bookstore was closed for the day. Hell, his contact name is still Jason (bookstore fav). But he reads it immediately and thumbs up the last text. 

This grilled cheese sucks by the way

It feels like plastic

Probably is lol

While Jason is very much a regular at the shop, you don’t really remember when he first started to frequent the shop. Just that one Sunday, you had seen the time and noticed he was late to the shop. He’d come in almost three hours later than he normally did and watched as you sighed, tossing his favorite candy at him before ushering him to the counter. He listened as you told him that next time he is late he needs to text or you’d send out an amber alert yourself. 

He truly hadn’t thought anyone had noticed the change in his routine. Especially someone he only saw once a week. It had been a really shitty night for him and an ever-shitter morning, feeling like a ghost wandering through Gotham, living in a life he never should have. 

He apologized with a grin and gave you his number. He also spent a little extra time in the shop, loving the familiar smell around him. He loves the bookstore more than he loves his guns, more than he loves most things really. It’s the only normal thing in his life and truly, Jason doesn’t know what he’d do without it. Without you, honestly. He’s only ever there when you are and a place is only as welcoming as the people inhabiting it. 

Which is why he’d picked up the 2 am phone call so fast. 

“Jason?” You whisper shout into the phone. He can hear some harsh wind and some distant shouts in the background, but it took much less than that for him to abandon his patrol and start over to you. “Shit— I’m sorry but I don’t know who else to call.” You add, the clarity hitting that during an emergency you called the guy who lived nearly half an hour away on a good day.

   “It’s okay, doll,” He replies and you dare to glance behind you. Maybe they’d given up by now, but no. “What’s wrong?” He asks as you round a corner. “Where are you?” He quickly adds and you glance at the road signs. 

“Uhh, heading towards Second Ave and Belcher Street. My friend's boyfriend thinks she’s cheating with me and him and his friends are chasing me,” You explain.

   “Guns?” He asks, already leaving the Gotham border. 

   “No,” You huff, the strain of running heavy on your chest. “Just knives.” 

That’s good, he tells himself. Distance is what you should be focusing on. But he knows that the regular person cannot run for nearly as long as he can and realistically, you’re bound to get tired much sooner than multiple people. 

   “Is there a crowd nearby?” You can hear some muffling to his voice but that’s honestly the least of your issues. “Maybe a club or hospital.” He adds when you don’t respond fast enough. 

   “No,” You strain. “Just apartments and shit. God, fuck! Do you think I should climb the fire escape?” There are several ahead of you, and one of them is low enough for you to grab. 

“Can you?” He asks. 

   “Yeah— yeah,” Jumping up, you pull yourself up and start climbing up to the roof. “Shit, I’m really high up,” You pant, daring to look over the edge and see the guys climbing up. “They’re climbing up,” You tell him, quickly backing away and trying to find an exit. What type of roof doesn’t have a fucking exit? 

“I’ve seen people jump from roof to roof,” You're thinking out loud at this point, trying to find some type of solution to your stupid idea. “Can’t be that hard, right?”

“Depends on the distance,” He truthfully tells you and you look at the two nearby roofs. 

   “Definitely too far. I’m fucked.” 

“Still on Second and Blecher?” He asks and you mutter a yeah when you see them reach the roof. 

   “They’re up,” You mumble. “I could jump and live, yeah?” Glancing to your left, you see a dumpster and reassure yourself that you’d be fine. 

   “Do you think you can come back down the fire escape?” He asks. “Is there one behind the building?” Looking behind you, you let out a loud sigh.    

“Yeah— yes, heading down.” Rushing down as fast as you can, you reach the ground as they’re in the middle and run back into the main road. 

“Head back down the way you came,” Jason instructs. He’s only five minutes away at this point, maybe three if he tries hard enough. He just needs you to buy five more minutes. 

   “Okay,” 

Running for what felt like an eternity, your legs are burning and your chest is tight. Maybe that one time you lied during your physical exam was coming back to bite you. 

But they’re still chasing you and Jason is still guiding you. You’re sure you’re about to pass out when a motorcycle drifts in front of you. 

“Red Hood?” You gape, panting. The fuck? 

   “Come on,” You hear him and Jason say. You’ll worry about that once you’re away from those absolute track-and-field freaks chasing you. Getting on the motorcycle, he holds your thigh with one hand before pulling off. 

The ride is silent as you’re catching your breath and just making sure you’re okay in general. Aside from the insane burn in your calves, you’re fine. The ride does a lot to calm you down, by the time he reaches the shop your head is pressed to his back and you’re holding him not as tight as you were before. 

“I don’t know your address,” He admits and you laugh into his back. After all that happened it’s a little humorous that your biggest issue is Jason getting your address. You give it to him and it takes him a second but he has the route mapped out before he pulls back onto the street. 

“I’m staying the night.” He tells you as you get off of the bike. You don’t protest, not in the slightest. You’re far too tired to do so anyway. Instead, you wave him over and head upstairs. He tries to hide his helmet from the camera view but you tell him they don’t work. 

“This guy got robbed two days ago; whole building found out the cameras are fake,” You explain while leaning against the elevator wall.

   “And you feel safe?” He incredulously asks, looking you over. Even buildings in Gotham have working cameras.  

    “I have a gun,” You shrug while he looks at you with more of an analyzing gaze, a little surprised you’d have a gun. “And no valuables. My electronics are all secondhand for that exact reason.”

“So, steal the couch?” He jokes. 

   “If it can fit through the door, it’s yours!” Patting his arm, you exit the elevator and fish out your keys. Thankfully you hadn’t dropped them during the chase. 

“What happened?” He asks as soon as you close and double lock the door. Looking at him, you drop your phone and keys onto the kitchen island before heading back to the door. 

   “My friend, Gina,” You start with a sigh, kicking your shoes off. “She used to be my beard in high school. But we never officially broke up, I guess because she posted a story saying happy six-year anniversary. With a bunch of pictures of us together. Her boyfriend saw and he’s always been…” Rolling your hand, you open your closet and grab a new outfit. “He thinks I’m lying ‘bout being gay. Because I’m too… I dunno what he thinks. But he says I don’t look gay and he’s never seen me with a guy before.” You explain with a huff. “Not my fault I’ve been single for two years, y'know. I got school and work and whatever!” Slamming the closet shut, you sigh and apologize. 

“I’m gonna take a shower, feel free to snoop and prod. And take the boots off, I just moped.” 

“Course,” He doesn’t move an inch as he unties his boots and walks to the shoe rack to set them down. You thank him and head into the bathroom. 

“If you gotta piss or shit, go ahead. I got a curtain and a strong scent blaster plugged in.” You tell him at the doorway to the bathroom. 

  “Noted.” He laughs but it drops once the door closes. 

He finds himself making sure the windows are locked and the curtains are properly drawn. He grabs his phone and saves your address into his personal map before he goes to check to see what type of security measures you have. And there’s not many, just a gun that’s badly hidden in your bedside table and the extra lock on the door. 

But there’s not much to the apartment, the decor is extremely minimal but he remembers you talking about saving to buy a house in the countryside. Or at least outside of a city. Own land and all that. 

He can’t decide if that’s good or not, there’s nothing to steal for sure, but it’s also really sad. There’s no personal touch to your apartment, it reminds him of one of his safe houses. 

He settles himself into the couch once he’s checked over everything, listening to the sounds of the shower and eventually, he hears the shower turn off. 

When you return to the living room in a pair of shorts, you’re a little surprised that Jason is still there. 

“Bruce Wayne as Batman makes a lotta sense,” Opening the fridge, you pull out two water bottles before setting them on the counter. 

“(Y/n),” Jason stops that conversation. “You should file a police report.”

“Fuck is that gonna do?” You huff, closing the fridge and opening the freezer to grab a popsicle. “Gina will hate me, cops will just forget to file it, and then I get harassed.” 

“They tried to kill you,” He stresses, blocking you from moving away from the fridge. You stare at him, a little upset that he’s caring so much. You feel bad for even calling him and sending him out of his way. And now he’s staying for who knows how long. Not to mention now you know his biggest secret— a family secret at that, one that you can tell one person, and suddenly the whole world knows. 

   “Happens every day,” You shrug but honestly, yeah, that shit scared you. His face drops and he snatches the popsicle from your hand before tossing it on the counter to your left. 

“No. Not to you. Not to most people. So what if Gina hates you afterward? Do you want a friend that’s known you since high school who would rather side with her crazy boyfriend?” 

“Of course not!” You groan. “But it’s Gina. She’s always been there and— and this is a one-time thing,”

“You sound ridiculous,” He tells you as he walks out of the small kitchen and into the living room. “Trying to kill someone isn’t a fucking one-off. It’s a crime, a legit crime. Has Gina even checked if you’re okay?” He points to the phone that’s still on the counter; the same phone he knows for a fact hasn’t buzzed once. 

   “No.” There's no need to check your phone, you already know there’s nothing from her. She’d never text you first. He nods as if to say there’s your answer. 

“Look, Jason. It was scary as fuck,” You admit. “But I’m good. And I thank you, but you should go home. I just…” Looking off to the wall. “I don’t know why I called you, I feel like shit for dragging you away from your home.”

“I was spending my night watching Harley and Ivy dry hump in front of a newly exploded power plant. You didn’t take me away from shit.” He blinks before heading to the couch. “Besides, it’s too late to drive back. I’m beat,”

“You’re lying,” You deadpan, tossing a water bottle between your hands. 

   “Am I?” He fake yawns, leaning back on the couch. “Can I get a blanket?” Clearly, he’s not going to leave, and it would be bad as a host to not make him comfortable. Asshole. 

   “Fine,” He grins as you walk away. 

“Oh and Jason, Gram’s told me about the payment plan you set up. Taking advantage of a woman who can’t speak English is rude. She thinks you’re paying five dollars a week for some back dues you owe.” It was actually five hundred thousand dollars a week, which was absurd but hey, if he insists. 

   “It’s just nine million,” He calls back. “Not even my money and B won’t notice it’s gone.” 

Just nine million, you repeat to yourself as you find a suitable blanket. It’s one of those thick fur blankets with a tiger on the front. 

“The couch is a pull-out, by the way.” Heading back into the living room, you tuck the blanket under your arm. “I’ve used it like once. It’s pretty comfortable unless you want the bed.” You add, setting the blanket on the edge of the couch. There’s no coffee table, you don’t see a reason for one. 

   “I can sleep on gravel, doll. I’m fine, thank you.” For some reason, his eyes are having a hard time staying on your face but you’re busy walking back into the kitchen to notice. 

“If you’re hungry make anything, I’m going grocery shopping in two days anyway.” Tossing the popsicle back into the freezer, you lean against the counter and watch him. It’s a little staring contest you have going on. His eyelashes are nice, real pretty boy-esque. 

The silence and tension in the apartment is broken by four rapid knocks to the front door followed by a worried: “(Y/n)?”

“Gina,” You tell Jason as he’s already off of the couch and halfway to the front door by the time you stand up straight. When you walk up behind him you pause, when did he have time to grab a gun? But he’s looking through the peephole before looking back to you and holding up two fingers. You almost laugh, this isn’t some military operation; just a… friend? at your door. 

“Please,” Gina says through the door. “We just— K wants to apologize,” Huffing, you look at Jason who’s standing behind the door, one hand on the top lock. He truly doesn’t want to unlock it, but it’s your apartment. Your call. 

   “Says who?” K snaps, his voice a lot more muffled than hers is. 

   “You’re going to fucking apologize.” She snaps right back. 

He raises an eyebrow and you nod to the door against your better judgment. He unlocks the door and stands in front of them, really standing over them with his damn height, the arm holding the gun hidden behind the door. You can basically hear Gina pause when she sees him. 

“Who are you?” Gina asks, looking him up and down. 

   “A friend.” He answers simply and then looks over to you. “Your friend is here.” 

“Thanks, Jay.” You smile and usher him into your bedroom with two quick glances. “Gina,” You greet a little harshly as you stand at the door. “Kyle.” You look at him for only a second. 

   “It’s K.” He corrects. 

“Can we come in?” She asks, stepping forward. “I explained everything to K and he’s sorry.” She looks back at him and he’s just standing there with this stupid look on his face. 

   “Is he?” You ask, looking at Kyle. “Because when he was screaming: I knew you weren’t a fag; I’m gonna cut your dick off; stop running bitch; and since you wanna pretend you’re a fag come and taste our dicks he just didn’t seem real sorry.” She cringes, he hadn’t said that part through the yelling they were doing. 

“I don’t wanna lose you,” She places a hand on the door, not that you were planning on closing it just yet. “Let us in and he’ll apologize.” Sighing, you look at her and frown. Between not even texting to see if you’re okay and then coming over with the audacity to think that a fucking apology would smooth things over, you were peeved. 

   “You’re losing one of us tonight. Him or me.” She takes a step back and frowns, her eyebrows knitting as your words settle in her. But at that moment, you knew the friendship was over. It shouldn’t ever take that long for an answer like that. 

“(Y/n), he’s sorry!” She almost shouts, shouting as if you had given her this impossible task. You want to reply, you want to yell, and to get into it then and there. But it’s no use. Your neighbors are sleeping, you’re tired, and far from a mood where you want to interact with them. As such, you close the door and put the locks back on. 

She shouts some things from the other side but you’re not listening as you enter your bedroom. 

Jason was standing right next to the door, startling you. If he hadn’t been so close you wouldn’t have seen him in the darkness. 

“Is that a requirement for vigilantes?” You ask, clutching your chest in an exaggeration. “Y’all are fucking spooky,” Tossing yourself onto your bed, you stare up at him. 

“She’s still at the door,” He ignores the comment on his family business once again. Instead, his eyes trained on your front door, watching and waiting to see what their next move is going to be. You hope for their sake it’s leaving because his hand is still on the safety of his gun. 

   “Not like they can get in,” You shrug, laying flat on your back. “I never give my key to anyone and it takes a full round of bullets to break the door.” 

“You know that how?” He asks, setting his gun down on the dresser. 

   “Last year my neighbor's crazy ex tried to break in but the door didn’t budge.” 

“Of course,” His head dips back into the bedroom, watching you. “Sleep, I’ll be in the living room.” 

“Okay,” Turning your head to look at him, you grin. “If you get nightmares, the bed is free.” Patting the empty space, Jason rolls his eyes with a grin and leaves the room. “Your gun?” You call after him, staring at the handgun still on your dresser. 

   “I have two more!” He calls back. 

“How the fuck?” But he doesn’t answer. 

—

The next morning you wake up to the sound of the front door closing. It stirs you, really, but you’re lucid enough to realize that hey, either Jason treated you like a one-night stand or someone had broken in. 

Sitting up in the bed, you collect yourself for a moment and grab his gun on your way out. While you’re surely not as keen as Jason is, you like to think you’re observant enough. The door is locked again, so you figure he didn’t leave and someone didn’t break in. 

“Jason?” You turn the corner to the kitchen and see him standing with a bag of Ihop, staring at you as if he’d gotten caught stealing from the cookie jar. 

   “Good morning,” His eyes flicker to the gun as you set it on the counter. A part of him is proud that you were hesitant enough to bring the gun with you. “I got breakfast.” 

“Aw,” You grin. “Post hate crime meal!” 

“That’s an insane sentence,” He tells you, unpacking what he had gotten. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you blueberry pancakes, french toast, eggs, and bacon. And the orange juice,” He places two boxes and a large cup of orange juice in front of you, then the straw. But you’re just focused on the fact that you know for a fact that wasn’t a random order. You’d posted about that exact order once before. Maybe a month or so ago. 

   “Oh,” You hum, looking at the food and then at him. “That’s sweet. Thank you.” He hums back, dropping the bag down to the floor, and takes his food. He’d gotten strawberry pancakes, hash browns, an omelet, and a coffee. 

Now you feel bad for not having a coffee table. 

“Wanna watch something while we eat?” You point your thumb toward the living room and he nods. 

While in the middle of watching Breaking Bad, you get up to set the empty containers in the sink and the cup in the trash while Jason watches. He doesn’t really know what to do, he wants to sleep, having stayed up the entire night in case anything happened but he’s enjoying his time with you. Even if the circumstances were… less than ideal. 

“Do you work today?” He asks when you’re walking back. 

   “Depends if my sister calls out,” Sitting, you turn your body to look at him. “I work Wednesday through Sunday, most weeks, at least.” 

“Are you going to make the report?” He also turns his body to you, watching as you toss your head back and sigh. 

   “Probably not,” You admit, looking back at him. “It’s more effort than I care to do,” He blinks, clearly disappointed but he’s not going to push. 

   “You should carry a weapon.” Jason’s not really asking, he’s telling you. “How good are you with a gun?” 

“Not sure,” 

“You bought a gun without training for it?” He asks, slowly as if he’s waiting for you to correct him and tell him that you actually go to the gun range in your free time. 

   “My dad got me it when I moved out.” You shrug, feeling a little ashamed because now he’s looking at you like you’re insane. “He said I needed protection and he doesn’t believe in mace or tasers.” 

“Clearly you do!” He throws his hand up towards the door. “We’re going to the gun range today.” 

“Jay!” You groan, nudging his leg with your foot. He grabs it and slides you down the couch. “I’m fine.” He just hums and leans over you, it doesn’t do much. Aside from shutting you up. 

He’s staring at you, his eyes unwavering from yours while you can’t seem to settle on where to look. It’s making you nervous— he’s making you nervous. The proximity isn’t the biggest issue, no the issue is the fact that you don’t mind that he’s above you, his hand right next to your head, and for fucks sake his breathing is even. 

“You’re going.” 

“Yup,”

—

Weirdly enough, the shooting range wasn’t in some building. No, Jason had decided to drive the hour's ride to a private lot. While normally you don’t agree to be in the middle of butt fuck nowhere without your own means of leaving, you were willing to bend your rules this one time. 

He has you help with setting up the cans and the body dummies, which are incredibly lifelike. A little creepy, but whatever floats his boat, you guess. He also puts up a new target sheet on a metal wall before he returns to hand you a handgun and ear mufflers. 

“Don’t hold it like that,” He blinks as you’re pointing the gun directly at your foot. You’re not a fool, you’ve played a couple of shooter games before. 

   “The safety is on,” You justify but point it toward the ground instead. Just to keep him happy. He just sighs and grabs his own gun, pointing it toward the dummy. 

“Stand like this,” He watches you from the corner of his eye as you mimic his stance. It’s a little uncomfortable but very technical. “A little straighter.” Fixing your posture he nods and drops his stance to adjust your grip on the gun. He takes your hands and adjusts them appropriately. “It’s not accurate for beginners, but I learned this way.” He explains as he steps behind you and lowers himself to your height. It’s hard when you’re not the same six foot-five that he is, but that’s neither here nor there. 

With his line of sight that is the same as yours, he raises your hands a little higher and a little to the left. You trust his judgment, you’re no fool on how accurate Red Hood is with his guns. 

It's silent, so silent that you can hear him breathing even through the heavy earmuffs. Whether you like it or not, you start to stop focusing on the task at hand and on him. He smells like your soap, too. It’s a little too domestic for the setting you’re in. 

“Take it off of safety,” He instructs, taking two steps away. Doing as he says, you want to roll your shoulders back but you’re worried you’d lose the position. “Go ahead.” His arms cross as he stares ahead at the dummy and you catch the flex of muscle under his shirt. 

Adjusting yourself as lowkey as you can, you close one eye and press the trigger. It's harder than you would’ve thought, giving you only a moment to back out. Following through, you let the recoil push you back a little before looking at the dummy. It didn’t hit the center of the head, instead grazing over the ear. 

“Close,” Jason looks over at you as you’re rubbing your shoulder but stops when you catch him looking at you. “Again?”

—

“I mean,” One of your friends, Tasha, takes a long sip of her drink. “None of us wanted to say anything but Gina is a bitch.” Frowning, you push around your food with the back of your fork. What was supposed to be your friend group's monthly putting ended up becoming a major therapy session when they noticed that Gina wasn’t there. 

   “Yeah,” Dante gives you a sort of frown sort of smile. “But you’d been friends with her for longer than us, so it wasn’t really our place.” 

“It’s crazy that it took her boyfriend trying to kill me to realize that, though.” It felt a bit weird, she’d always been in your life, and before the whole incident, you never would’ve thought you’d be without her. But life was the same, if not better with her gone. You didn’t realize how much you didn’t need her until now and honestly, you’re just upset it didn’t happen sooner.

Especially considering all of your other friends didn’t like her. 

“Speaking of,” Alex cranes her neck to look at you. “Who’s Jason?” She grins as your eyes narrow. You’re not one to divulge about your life, especially over text. 

   “How do you know about him?” Setting your fork down, she snorts before digging back into her meal. 

   “Girl, I was the Uber Eats driver.” She explains and looks to the others who are clearly out of the loop. “My first order of the day, some guy named Jason with a blank profile. Whatever, right? I pick up the Ihop order— he knows your taste, cute.” She quickly adds. “And then, I get the address. I’m just thinking (Y/n) created a fake profile. Nah, bro!” She covers her mouth to stop her laughing and to stop any potential food from flying out of her mouth. 

“I knock and this tall guy with this hot face scar opens the door. If he would’ve asked I would’ve taken the tip,” And she didn’t mean money. 

“Clearly he already did!” Dante cackles, watching as you drown yourself in the soda you’d ordered. The others laugh while you have to do damage control. 

“Jay’s a friend who happened to be in the neighborhood when Kyle was chasing me,” The three look at each other, ever aware of the fact that you’re staring at your plate while talking. They just assume the friend part is a lie. “And he spent the night. On the couch.” You add, looking at each of them to make sure that they understand. 

  “And ordered you breakfast in bed. And he left a hundred-dollar tip,” Alex swirls her pasta around her fork while the others gape at the news. 

   “Oh girl,” Tasha looks over at you. “He got a sister?” 

“Too young for your old ass!” You laugh while she pretends to be offended. “His sisters are nineteen and eighteen.” You wondered if you should add Barbra to his list of family. But you think she’s more of an acquaintance than family. But you could be wrong. 

   “You know his family?” Tasha’s eyebrows furrow. 

   “I know of his family. Never met that before.”

“Ah, waiting for the one-year mark?” Alex nods as if she had caught the drift you are trying to get at. 

   “Oh my god,” Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your seat. 

“What? You’re acting like you’re not attracted to that man. He’s fine as hell!” Alex pushes her hair behind her ear as she talks. “Might have to revoke your gay card.” 

“I never said that, it’s just…” Rubbing your hands on your pants, your face scrunches. “He could be straight.” Now, you weren’t going to deny the fact that Jason was attractive. He was the embodiment of your personal preferences, but you were a chronic overthinker with these sorts of things. To the point where it needs to be spelled out for you to get any hints. 

“He got you breakfast in bed.” Dante sounds out each word, putting an equal amount of extra emphasis on it. Just to make sure it really sinks in. 

   “I did that for you guys before!” You defend. 

    “Fine— fine, how do you know him?” Tasha asks and the others nod, happily awaiting your response. 

“He comes into the shop every Sunday. He’s been coming for about four years, give or take.” You shrug and they blink at each other. This is why you’re still single. 

    “Isn’t he the one that bought you Five Guys last month?” Dante is now physically turned to you, his eyes wide and you grumble. You never told them about that. 

   “You’re lying,” Alex cackles. “That’s your man and you don’t wanna admit it. Five guys is expensive.” 

“How about this?” Dante rolls his hand before you can even reply to Alex. “If one of Tasha’s friends got her an expensive lunch without asking, showed up to her job every single shift for four years, stayed with her after a traumatic night, got her breakfast, and didn’t leave until she was truly safe; how much platonic energy does that give you?” 

“Not a lot, but—“

“Nah,” Dante holds your hands as he speaks. “I love you, so don’t take this the wrong way but you’re stupid as fuck. He wants you.”

“He wants the books I sell. And my friendship.”

“He wants to spread something other than pages.” He shakes his head and you snort. “Ask him out, if he says no. Then I owe you a grand.”

“You don’t have a grand.” You deadpan and he nods. 

   “I’m so sure he’ll say yes that I’m making that bet.”

“Fine,” You huff. “But if this ruins my friendship you all owe me lunch for a month.” Surprisingly, they all agree and you settle on asking him on the upcoming Sunday. So, the very next day. 

—

“Why are your friends watching you?” Your sister asks as she walks behind you to grab one of the display books and swap it for a different one. 

   “Don’t worry about them,” You mutter, too busy watching the window; waiting for the motorcycle to stop in front of the store. She notices, of course, and stands behind you before deciding it was time to take her break and join your friends upstairs. 

Eventually, you see his motorcycle pull up and sigh, fixing your apron but stop when you hear them snickering. This whole situation was stupid, that’s what you’ve decided. But you’ve made your bed, it was time to lie in it. 

Jason walks in, his eyes immediately finding yours but you’re busy ringing someone up. He grabs the basket from the front of the shop and walks around the shop until he sees the line is gone. 

“Jay,” You grin, holding onto the counter. 

   “(Y/n),” His eyes focus on your hands for a second before he grabs a chocolate from the basket. Glancing at your friends, you fix your posture and reassure yourself. “Anything new?” Typically, you’d already be talking about what’s new but there’s just this hanging silence. 

“Nah,” You shake your head but still double-check the inventory log. “But we’re getting some um… science fiction stuff next week.” He’s not too big on those, maybe once in a blue moon he’ll actually buy one. He goes to talk but your phone dings before he can open his mouth. Watching as you grab your phone, your eyes scan over a text before you huff and silence it. 

“I heard about…” You trail into a whisper. “The Riddler kidnapping, you okay?” Not the best way to lead into asking someone out, but hey. Could’ve been worse. 

   “I’m fine,” He nods. “Arms a little sore but I’ll live.” 

“Long enough to go on a date with me?” You ask, a bit quicker than you intended but thankfully your words haven’t jumped up. He laughs, his eyes closing and you falter, glancing up at your friends for some type of support. 

   “That was a bold transition,” He settles himself down. “When are you free?”

“Oh shit, for real?” You grin. “I’m free Monday. Or whenever you are, really. My shifts are pretty flexible,” 

“I’ll pick you up Monday,” 

“I asked you on the date,” You huff. “I’m picking you up.” He crosses his arms and his eyes lower into a sort of unamused expression. 

   “You’ll pick me up, from Gotham?” He asks, just to make sure you know what you’d be signing up for. Truthfully, you hadn’t. And as such, you weigh your options— you don’t even have a car to offer to pick him up in. Damn. 

    “Fine, Monday at eight.” Giving in, he nods and glances around the shop. 

   “I don’t need a book today, see you tomorrow.” He looks you up and down, this time you watch as his eyes slowly drag down and tilt your head. 

“Looking like you already wanna kiss me, Jay.” You joke as his eyes reach yours again. 

   “Since you offered.” He grins and sneaks one single kiss that lasts less than a second. 

“I get off in thirty,”

#x male reader #x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x male reader

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Saturday linkdump, part the sixth

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

On September 14, I'm hosting the EFF Awards in San Francisco.

I usually write this blog 5-6 days/week, but every now and again, I take a break, and when I do, I get massive link backlogs of stuff I want to write about, but lack the time to address in depth. When that happens, I turn my Saturday edition into a linkdump. Today, I present the sixth in the series – here's the other five:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Why was I offline and away from my blog? I went to the dirt rave. Yes, I was one of the 70,000+ people stuck in the mud at this year's Burning Man, and when I emailed my editor at the New York Times to say I might be late on the op-ed I was working on, she asked me to write about what this year's mud crisis meant:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/06/opinion/burning-man-flood-playa-climate-change.html

tl;dr:

Bad weather is normal at Burning Man (it's a feature, not a bug);

Mostly burners leapt to the occasion, which is what people almost always do in disaster situations;

This is the second Burning Man heavy weather year in a row;

The climate emergency is tipping the Black Rock Desert from "extremely challenging" to "impossible";

This isn't the last event, place and tradition that will have to be radically reconsidered in light of the climate emergency;

But now I'm home, in my hammock, with all the laundry done – just in time to leave again. I'm about to head back to my hometown of Toronto for a book launch. The Internet Con, my latest nonfiction (from Verso Books) came out last week, and I'll be appearing at Another Story Bookshop on Tuesday:

https://anotherstory.ca/events/29283

Internet Con is a "Big Tech disassembly manual." It explains how Big Tech got so big (lax anti-monopoly enforcement, which led to regulatory capture, which let Big Tech abuse our privacy, labor rights, and consumer rights), and how we can use interoperability so it's no longer Too Big to Fail, nor Too Big to Jail:

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

You can read a long excerpt from the book in Wired, which lays out some of the shovel-ready legislative, regulatory and technical proposals that are the book's main purpose:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-internet-con-cory-doctorow-book-excerpt/

You can also hear me read the whole introduction and first chapter of the audiobook on my podcast:

https://craphound.com/internetcon/2023/08/01/the-internet-con-how-to-seize-the-means-of-computation-audiobook-outtake/

That comes from the audiobook, a DRM-free, independent edition that I financed, produced and narrated myself. You can get the audiobook everywhere except Audible, Apple Books, and Audiobooks.com, all of which have mandatory DRM policies. You can also get it direct from me:

https://transactions.sendowl.com/products/78992826/DEA0CE12/purchase

The DRM-free ebook is available everywhere ebooks are sold (Kobo, Kindle, Nook, etc), as well as in my own DRM-free ebook store:

https://transactions.sendowl.com/products/78992801/9C4FC2B8/purchase

Verso's books are sold in bookstores around the world; you can support your local bookseller by buying it through Bookshop:

https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-internet-con-how-to-seize-the-means-of-computation-cory-doctorow/18771891?ean=9781804291245

If you'd like a signed copy, there's stock at Book Soup:

https://www.booksoup.com/book/9781804291245

Now, it was inevitable that I would do a book event for Internet Con in Toronto – I've never had a bad event there, and I love my hometown – but the timing of this event was driven by a non-book-related factor. Talking Heads is appearing together at TIFF, to support the re-release of Stop Making Sense, the greatest concert film in human history:

https://pluralistic.net/StopMakingSense

People often ask me what my favorite book is, and I always tell them that you should never trust people who have one favorite book, as it inevitably turns out to be The Bible, The Fountainhead, or Mein Kampf. But while I don't have a favorite book, I have a clear and unambiguous favorite band.

If I was forced to listen to no music other than Talking Heads for the rest of my life, I would be perfectly happy. Ecstatic, even. Throw in David Byrne, Tom Tom Club and Casual Gods and I probably wouldn't even notice anything missing.

There's a running joke among my Burning Man campmates that whenever I'm in charge of the music, I'm just shuffling Talking Heads rarities, and whenever someone puts on anything else, I demand to know which Talking Heads album it came from. Which is all to say: I have tickets for the Talking Heads event at TIFF and I could *not be more excited.*

Continuing on the Canadian theme, one of the annual highlights of Canadian media is the Massey Lectures, a series of public lectures given around the country and rebroadcast on CBC. These are always great, but recent years have been superb – Ron Deibert's 2020 series was unmissable:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/10/dark-matter/#citizenlab

This year's Masseys are shaping up to be the GOAT. They're presented by Astra Taylor, an activist rock-and-roller turned documentary filmmaker who is one of the founders of the Debt Collective, fighting for student debt cancellation. Everything Astra does is amazing and her profile on CBC Ideas gives some background on the role that unschooling played in making her the powerful activist she is today:

https://www.cbc.ca/radio/ideas/astra-taylor-interview-2023-massey-lecturer-1.6959320

There's no question that things are messed up right now, but Astra and people like her shine out like beacons of hope. 17 years ago, self-described "democracy nut" Tom Stites gave one of the seminal lectures on the role news media play in democracy:

http://citmedia.org/blog/2006/07/03/guest-posting-is-media-performance-democracys-critical-issue/

17 years later – and from his perch as editor at the essential International Consortium of Investigative Journalists – Stites presents us a long-overdue, extremely pertinent followup: "Building Civic Energy is the Goal, Not Saving Old News Business Models":

https://banyanproject.coop/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Hope-College-speech-for-Banyan-website-1.pdf

Stites's intervention is extremely timely, because policymakers all over the world have made the mistake of thinking that Big Tech is stealing the news media's content, which is absolutely untrue. It is good, actually, to index news stories and let people discuss, quote from and link to news stories. News you're not allowed to talk about isn't news, it's a secret.

But Big Tech is stealing from news. They're not stealing content – they're stealing money. The Google/Apple duopoly rakes 30% off every subscription payment collected in an app. The Google/Meta duopoly rakes 51% out of every ad-dollar (and maintain that death-grip through creepy, privacy-invading surveillance ads). Meta and Twitter hold social media subscribers hostage, forcing publishers to pay to reach their own subscribers.

We don't want the news to be Big Tech's partners – we need them to be Big Tech's watchdogs. "Link taxes" and other profit-sharing arrangements between the media and tech cut against the civic energy Stites wants to build.

(You can read more about this – along with policy prescriptions for halting Big Tech's rent-extraction from the news – in "Saving the News From Big Tech," my EFF white-paper:)

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

If your spirits are lifted by stories of principled activists achieving important – and improbable – victories, you could do worse than to attend the EFF Awards on in San Francisco Sept 14 (I'm the emcee). This year, we're honoring Alexandra Elbakyan for her founding of Sci-Hub, the Library Freedom Project and the Signal Foundation:

https://www.eff.org/awards/effawards/2023

In more activist news: Mozilla produced a startling and astoundingly good – if demoralizing – report on the state of digital privacy and security in the automotive sector:

https://foundation.mozilla.org/en/privacynotincluded/articles/its-official-cars-are-the-worst-product-category-we-have-ever-reviewed-for-privacy/

Entitled, "It’s Official: Cars Are the Worst Product Category We Have Ever Reviewed for Privacy," the report reveals just how absolutely terrible the automotive sector is when it comes to privacy practices, collecting (and selling) (and giving away) information about your sex life, your geneology, your genetic characteristics, and your smell (no, seriously).

Their recommendations for which new car you should buy boil down to "don't buy a new car." I have been urging consumer research groups to release a report like this for a decade. There are whole categories of gadgets – like, say, "smart speakers" – that are unsafe at any speed. At a certain point, reviewers need to have the guts to say that every manufacturer in an entire sector is a dumpster fire and they should all be dragged in front of a firing squad – or at least a Congressional committee.

Cars, after all, are nightmares of privacy invasion and rent-extraction, the source of autoenshittification on a massive scale, a mobile form of technofeudalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

The fact that cars score so badly on privacy is especially ironic given the campaign Big Car waged against the 2020 Massachusetts Right to Repair ballot initiative, in which car manufacturers held themselves out as the defenders of driver privacy from unscrupulous third parties who couldn't be trusted to handle the vast troves of data your car collects with every hour that God sends:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

This is a familiar refrain: monopolists often claim that any check on their absolute authority over their users will expose those users to privacy risks. Apple has run a global ad-campaign claiming this, and while Apple does prevent Facebook from spying on iPhone owners, they also secretly spy on those customers in exactly the same way that Facebook used to, and lie about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

It turns out that giant companies just aren't good proxies for their customers' interests, and that the power they amass through monopolization shouldn't be counted on as a source of user safety. Monopolists won't reliably defend user privacy – that job belongs to democratically accountable regulators. That's an argument I developed in detail with Bennett Cyphers in our EFF white-paper "Privacy Without Monopoly":

https://www.eff.org/wp/interoperability-and-privacy

That is, rather than getting privacy by "voting with your wallet," you need to get it by voting with your ballot. "The market" is an election that you vote in with dollars, which means that the people with the most dollars always win. When there are zero cars on the market that are safe to drive, you can't vote with your wallet by buying a good one.

On a related subject, the DOJ Antitrust Division has brought the most important tech anti-monopoly case of the century, charging Google with monopolizing search:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/06/technology/modern-internet-first-monopoly-trial-us-google-dominance.html

Part of the DOJ case turns on the fact that Google goes to extraordinary lengths to keep you from every trying another search engine, paying out more than $45 billion every year to be the default search on every device, program and service you might use. In other words, Google spends entire Twitter's worth of dollars every year, lighting it on fire to keep you from finding out about rivals.

Google argues that this is fine, actually, because these are only defaults, and users can dig through their settings to change their search engine. Sure, Google – and the first 20 search results you serve are only defaults, and it wouldn't matter if you were ordered to put them ten screens down, because users could always scroll to see them.

But search defaults aren't the only way that Google locks in searchers – and then harms us by invading our privacy. Google's ubiquitous Chrome browser ties Google's search to Google's invasive, nonconsensual, total surveillance. Chrome turned 15 this year and Google made a huge PR splash out of the anniversary:

https://blog.google/products/chrome/google-chrome-new-features-redesign-2023/

But all that puffery conspicuously failed to mention that Google had quietly rolled out its long-discredited, new surveillance technology, FLOC, which it pretended to kill in 2021:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/22/ihor-kolomoisky/#not-that-competition

FLOC is back, rebranded as the Topics API: this is a system for spying on you so advertisers can target you. Google is spinning this as a privacy improvement because it might someday replace "third party cookies," one of the creepiest web surveillance systems.

But as Ron Amadeo writes for Ars Technica, Chrome is the last major browser to support third party cookies – both Safari and Firefox block them by default. So Google is basically saying, "We are going to improve your privacy by changing how we spy on you, even though all our competitors don't do this kind of spying at all":

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2023/09/googles-widely-opposed-ad-platform-the-privacy-sandbox-launches-in-chrome/

This kind of gaslighting, where Google pisses in all our mouths and tells us it's raining, is the hallmark of a decrepit, arrogant, crapulent monopolist that needs to be shattered in the courts. Kudos to the DoJ for doing the people's business here – and kudos to DoJ antitrust boss Jonathan Kanter for promising that he will not go into corporate law when he finishes his stint in government.

The DoJ isn't the only public agency that's serving the American people. The FCC just announced proceedings to force cybersecurity labels for "smart" devices:

https://www.fcc.gov/consumer-governmental-affairs/fcc-proposes-cybersecurity-labeling-program-smart-devices

This is long overdue, and it's a welcome action from the FCC, which was hamstrung for years because cowardly Democratic senators joined with homophobic, libelous Republicans in blocking confirmation hearings for the amazing Gigi Sohn:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/15/useful-idiotsuseful-idiots/#unrequited-love

After years of abuse, Sohn bowed out. Now, Anna Gomez has been confirmed to fill that fifth FCC chair, turning the FCC into a fully operational battle station:

https://www.fiercewireless.com/wireless/senate-votes-approve-anna-gomez-5th-fcc-commissioner

The fact that there's all this great stuff going on in the administrative branch is easy to lose sight of amidst the circus of federal electoral politics, in which Donald Trump has retained his role as ringmaster and chief distractor.

Thankfully, we have expert Pantsless Emperor skewerers like Ruben Bolling around – his latest Tom the Dancing Bug revives his brilliant Calvin and Hobbes-inspired Trump gag:

https://boingboing.net/2023/09/06/tom-the-dancing-bug-a-calvinesque-and-hobbesian-look-at-taking-a-mug-shot.html

Well, that's me signing off for the weekend – I've got to pack for my flight to Toronto. If you're looking for more weekend fun, check out the trailer for Fractured Veil, the video game my old pal Chris DiBona has been working on for seven years and which is heading for Steam early access next month:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjNd3QQnENU

Just watch it. I mean. Wow.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/09/nein-nein/#everything-is-miscellaneous

Image: Roel Schroeven (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/roelschroeven/45413895

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

#pluralistic #calvin and hobbes #mozilla #privacy #automotive #autoenshittification #enshittification #saving the news from big tech #privacy without monopoly #tom the dancing bug #ruben bolling #astra taylor #canada #cbc #munk lectures #democracy #political science #google #surveillance #monopoly #floc #topics api #chrome #chromium #browser wars #games #fractured veil #fcc #iot #internet of shit

[sweetmariihs2]

Today I found and bought two new Sofia The First magazines in a magazine stand, in a town next to mine. (That's what the post is about) 🪻✨️💗

I live in a small town, I came to the neighboring city (a slightly bigger one; where there is a cinema, adequate medical care and clinics, things that are scarce in my town and everyone comes here when they need one of these things) to do an eyesight exam, because recebtly I've been feeling my vision getting worse. Going to the clinic, I found a magazine stand on the other street, and I asked my family (who were with me) if they could accompany me there later. I did the exam, and I'm still under the influence of the eye drops, so it's been torture to write this text, but I need to tell you what I found. You won't believe it: TWO DIFFERENT EDITIONS OF SOFIA THE FIRST MAGAZINES! THOSE THAT ARE NO LONGER PRODUCED! IN FACT, SEVERAL COPIES OF THEM! There were like, 7 magazines from the same edition, perfectly new, never touched, ON THE FLOOR. (And no, I'm not from Rio De Janeiro, there are a lot of sidewalks with this pattern here in Brazil)

A while ago, I think it was in January, I was wondering if I should also go to this city and look for Sofia The First merch, because in my small town I've already looked at all the stores and there's nothing left to see here (how many, about 4 ? 5? Yes, it really is a small city, I know all these places and you can visit them all in 1 or 2 hours at most, walking down the street, without a car). I found some stickers and birthday invitations, I posted them a while ago, I used them for journaling in my sketchbook.

(@shychick-52 do you see the Donald Duck magazines there?? When I saw them I immediately thought about you, they're on the bottom left of the pic and there's more in the top right. Pato Donald is Donald Duck, Tio Patinhas is Scrooge McDuck's name in Brazil. I don't know a thing about Ducktales, I'm sorry!)

I literally gasped. I was just going there for fun, as I like books, magazines and vintage products like records and CDs, so I really like physical media. Those places full of trinkets are extremely fun for me, and whenever I have the opportunity I like to look at everything, down to the smallest details. I love music and vinyl stores, stationery stores, party stores, haberdashery, so a magazine stand sounds amazing to me too! I hadn't been to one in years! (I never went thrifting in my life. It would be an amazing day to spend an evening)

There weren't only Sofia The First ones, you see, these kinds of magazines aren't produced anymore since kids don't have any interest in them. So most of the children's magazines there were dated around 2012-2016! You don't even have to look for the dates to know that, the Strawberry Shortcake ones, Frozen (FROZEN, DUDE! FROZEN!!!) (In one of my STF magazines there's even an ad of these Frozen magazines, they were produced during the same time), there were Disney Junior ones (If you look closely you can see the Lion Guard cover on that pic where I show you the pile of STF magazines, it's on top of them), Disney Princess, EVEN MONSTER HIGH. I didn't took a pic of this one, but as far as I know, you don't find these anywhere anymore. I felt like going back to 2015, when I was a kid those activity magazines and visiting the magazine stands were extremely fun, the themes on the children's magazines were exactly these, I remember the sticker albums, so many good memories. It makes sense, since they're the same ones, but they were never sold.

Besides the children magazines, they sell mangas, magazines, books, word search and activity books, cooking books, comic books/magazines (superhero themed or not- DC comics, Marvel, but also Disney and national works, for example our beloved Turma Da Mônica), and even toys and stuff.

So I figured maybe I'd find silly things here too, it's a bigger town but after all it's still small, it's just 40 mins away from mine, maybe I could find little birthday hats that I can cut out? Gift bags? Maybe stickers and coloring kits, silly things. Of course, knowing about the magazine stands there, something that my hometown NO LONGER has, inside of me had a small amount of hope that I could find something, but not much, as I live in the rural/interior part of Brazil and many products are bootleg, you know those princess books with wonky faces written "princess coloring book"? Stuff like that. But there was still a shred of hope, despite knowing that there probably wouldn't be anything interesting. I just went there because I have fun searching for little things.

AND WHEN I GOT THERE.... THE MAGAZINES WERE JUST THERE. AT THE ENTRANCE. ON THE ?!?!?!?!? FLOOR?!??!??! (You can see the pic up there) ON THE DIRTY SIDEWALK FULL OF DIRT AND DUST AND ALL KINDS OF NASTY THINGS?!??! HELL NAH

It was like they were just waiting for me to get them, they were the first things that I saw. I KNEW THAT I WOULD FIND SOMETHING. In fact, as I always hope to find cool things in these stores I frequent, I always expect something. I'm usually disappointed, but I always try to find it. AND THIS TIME I FOUND IT. NOT ONE, NOT TWO, BUT LIKE A DOZEN of STF magazines from the same edition, still packaged AND WITH THE GIFT. ALL OF THEM.

As my parents had work to do in our town and needed to return, I had to look at everything quickly. Luckily the magazine stand was small, so I was able to look at a few things, and while the attendant (who seemed bored (thankfully, the fact that she was very slow gave me time to look a little more)) served other customers (she was slow with them too, which gave me more time thank god), I continued looking at all sides of the stand, observing every small detail to look for treasures. If there were several copies of an issue of Sofia The First magazine still packed there, then there must have been more, hidden behind that enormous amount of information. I didn't had enough time because my parents needed to go back home, but I wish I could have saw the content from the Disney Junior magazines. I opened it and looked through the pages, only the last two pages were about Sofia The First, but I still had a lot to look so I put it back and went to search for more.

That's the one I got, the edition I mentioned

12 brazillian reais are worth around 2,50 dollars. For us, in talks about value, it would be like- 5 dollars? Not too cheap like literal 2 dollars, it's like, a cheap price, but not that much. For us, I mean. I don't know if you get what I mean, my explanation was terrible

Before, as we were late for the exam and the whole family was going (we all went to take the exam) I only took with me my cellphone and headphones, I didn't bring my money or even a purse or a backpack. My father bought me the magazine, I got so happy. Actually, he just let me have it and gave me the money, so I went to the attendant. The magazines had an elastic band around to secure them, as you can see in the pic, and I took them to the girl and asked for her help to get one out. As I'm used to being very friendly, and I was very happy, I approached the girl, asked for her help, and as she got them out of the elastic band, I kept talking "I can't believe I found this!! They are no longer produced, they are rare items, and I'm collecting them! I didn't think I would find anything like this here, it definitely made my day." I noticed that the attendant wasn't very friendly back, in fact she was very quiet and seemed a little bored, but I didn't care, I was too happy to worry about judgement looks from people I don't know, at least I was friendly and I did my part. My young brother later told me that when I turned my back she looked confused and shrugged, perhaps thinking "to each their own, right?". She went to serve the other customers and in the meantime I continued to look through the magazines, hoping to find more.

Important detail: I still had eye drops, my pupils were extremely dilated and I could see nearby objects blurred, so searching thoroughly was very difficult. Imagine looking at all that information without being able to see things closer than 1m from you. I'm still convinced I didn't manage to look at everything. I found more Disney Princess magazines (dated in 2014? 2015? somewhere around that) and that's when I saw it. I literally had to crouch down to look at the magazines in the lower sections of the shelf, they were stacked and they covered each other, and when I saw the Sofia The First logo I quickly grabbed it. IT WAS ANOTHER EDITION - A FLOATING PALACE THEMED ONE. Unfortunately this time it was out of the packaging, and I have no idea if someday there was even a gift with it, but I don't care, it was amazing to find this.

That's the Disney Princess magazines I was talking about! In that first pic I took, at the start of the post, you can see a Belle themed one. The Ariel themed magazine looks so old that the paint is stained and started to fade (it was in the front showcase while the other ones were carefully placed inside the stand), thankfully the STF ones were brand new. Well, almost.

Now that I'm home and I'm already seeing a little better, I'm gonna show you the magazines. Not all of them unfortunately, because a post only supports 10 pics and each magazine has 15/20+ pages so like... yeah. I wanna scan them and put them in a Google drive folder, or at least post a video about them in my YouTube channel, but that's more unlikely. If I had all of them, definitely, but I don't think it's worth recording a video if it's not with all the issues, don't you think? Anyway.

What's written in the first one: The Queen's Birthday Party! (This one came with the necklace)

In the second one: Sofia's vacation!

Let's take a closer look at the necklace

I'm fighting the urge to use it. I really want to use that tag in my sketchbook and the charm of the necklace in something like a keychain, but I cann'ttt bring myself to destroy something that is not produced anymoreeee😭😭😭

In the Floating Palace magazine, there is not even a single page where the sea monster is in. Not even a single one.

But in the "Queen's Birthday Party" one, there are three pages where Cedric is in! Yayy!!! They did him justice!!!

If anyone's curious about Miranda's birthday party, it's a comic and someone already posted it on Tumblr. Here is the link.

You know, that "Queen's Birthday Party" it's very exclusive, I don't remember the show having any episode like this, and the next activities in the magazine talk about the vacation they did in the comic and also the birthday party. Besides that, we have a lot of activities related to Tilly and family, and the main arts and crafts activity from this magazine is making a family tree. I believe that this magazine's topic is family.

I can't show you all the pages, but at least I can publish the pages Cedric is in and add more stuff to my Cedric merch masterlist (and personal research)

Well at least he's there. I have seen this art around like 20 times but they remembered that Cedric is a Sofia The First character so that's good I guess

They did him dirty here

AND THIS!!!! THIS ABSOLUTELY THIS!!! MY FAVORITE ONE!!!1!1!!!1!1!!1

YOU GUYS DON'T KNOW HOW LOUD I GASPED, WHEN I TELL YOU THAT I ALMOST STARTED JUMPING AND SCREAMING "YIPEE YIPEEE"

I'll translate it to you this time, so you can understand how I'm feeling right now

✨️Translation:✨️

Enchancia Castle

Title: Fraternal Bonds

Before leaving, Aunt Tilly gives her brother a big hug. Which pairs of siblings do you know from Sofia's world? Mark the correct pairs below.

THAT IS SO AAARRRGGGAGGAGAVVSGGSBBAVSGJ💖💖😭💗💞💗💞😭💞😭💗😭💞😭💖💗💖

I KNOW THAT CEDRIC AND SOFIA ARE THE WRONG OPTION, BUT I CAN'T. THAT IS SO CUTE I MIGHT EXPLODE I DON'T KNOW

that's what we had for today, I reached the 10 image per blog limit as always, no one's surprised

#sofia the first #sofia the fandom #merch #magazine #stf magazine #cedric the sorcerer #cedric the great #cedric the sensational #queen miranda #king roland #prince james #princess amber #baileywick #aunt tilly #oona

[abybweisse]

HPB haul 11/20/23 and other books

I ordered books online through Amazon today (Yeah, I know. I know. Bezos sucks), but then I went to Half Price Books looking for some things I was hoping to find locally and for less $.

So... I got this stuff today at HPB.

A Flame Tree edition of Don Quixote, more Flame Tree collection books, a reproduction of the original A Christmas Carol, American Gods, and a book-theme jigsaw 🧩 puzzle 🧩 that's just as shiny as the Flame Tree books.

I noticed that the really nice edition of Don Quixote was abridged, which I find silly, but I still wanted it... so I also bought a really cheap old copy that's unabridged. Also got some journals, Bukowski's Notes of a Dirty Old Man, Jane Austen's Persuasion, Sword Catcher, The Frugal Wizard's Handbook for Surviving Medieval England, and Curious Tides. I'm not familiar with those last three new works, but they look fun, and the wizard one was apparently a very well-funded kickstarter project.

Then I went to the back of the store to look at the old, fine binding books and had to slap myself to put some of them back on the shelf. But I allowed myself one title, for now: Gargantua and Pantagruel, by Rabelais.... Yes, the likely origin of "Do what thou wilt".

Lots of books to post later, when they arrive.

Oh, and I recently bought a cute little TST book from their own website: Goodnight Baphomet and it's freaking precious. It just teaches the 7 tenets of TST in a simple way, through rhyme and cute illustrations.

FYI, a guy at HPB told me about an app that lets you keep track of books (really any collection item that has an isbn#). Because I told him I ended up with two copies of the same edition of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall...

...and I'd started using pics of book purchases to help me avoid extra copies. It'll let you create collection titles then let you add items within each collection. It has categories for books, video games, music, and movies, but I made a collection called "Jigsaw puzzles" and just scanned them in as if they were books. The app can be found in the App Store as "libib".

Collections I've created, so far. I've barely started scanning things in. I'm not sure what to do about the occasional book so old it lacks an isbn.... 🤔

Edit: the manual entry option lets you enter title, author, description, etc., even if you don't have an isbn or upc.

#off topic #books #half price books #amazon #the satanic temple #miguel de cervantes #don quixote #a christmas carol #charles dickens #neil gaiman #american gods #jigsaw puzzle #charles bukowski #notes of a dirty old man #jane austen #persuasion #sword catcher #cassandra clare #curious tides #pascale lacelle #the frugal wizard's handbook for surviving medieval england #brandon sanderson #gargantua and pantagruel #françois rabelais #goodnight baphomet #anne bronte #anne brontë #the tenant of wildfell hall #my stuff #stuff i bought

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

I’m in the UK. 24 hours later, how is the US media covering the revelations in Spare ?

Well, there's this, for one.

Most of the US shows have reported on The Guardian "leak," which I think says a lot about that leak. Someone was sending out press releases from her Hotmail account. The leak, of course, focused on the fight.

The one that has been going around was CNN's Don Lemon calling the memoir "gauche." Meghan's bots were criticizing the segment on Twitter so I guess that made a mark.

CBS covered it pretty neutrally. They called it "disappointing" and promote the Anderson Cooper interview. It's basically promo for them because they own 60 minutes.

CBS Morning was also 60 minutes promo with anchors questioning the motivation. I guess the interview will address that. Roya Nikkah talks about his long-standing resentments and the likelihood of a reconciliation summit. She expects a "recollections may vary" type of reaction.

Good Morning America also based their coverage on the Guardian leak (surprise!). This one is basically promo for the Stranahan interview. It has the "archnemesis" segment of the interview.

NBC actually got their hands on a Spanish copy, which is interesting. They don't mention the Guardian leak, which leads me to believe that they weren't part of the Sussex PR drive. They mention the Nazi uniform, losing his virginity, and drug use, which the other outlets did not.

NBC Today did mention the Guardian leak. NBC didn't have the book in time for the morning show yesterday. The correspondent says this is a nightmare for King Charles.

Edited: Another Today segment just dropped.

Fox News was very negative. They covered most of the content, not just the fight. They note that ITV, where Harry is doing his interview, is part of the royal rota that he supposedly hates.

Megyn Kelly covered it for her Sirius XM show. She had Tom Bowers on and was very negative.

I think the most noticeable aspect of the US coverage is how much it follows what we presume was the Sussex pr strategy--focusing on the Guardian leak and the upcoming interviews. It really illustrates how easy it is to guide the US coverage. All you have to do is give some exclusives.

The more cringe details that were published in the UK and overseas, were featured in smaller outlets like The Cut and Slate. The Cut is the only outlet, so far, to mention the "baby brain" comment.

Slate focused on the comments about Will.

Reuters, a news service, also did a list of revelations. Interesting that not many outlets have picked up on this and used the info.

Associated Press, the other big news service, focused on the fight.

Edit: I should have mentioned that Page Six, from the NYPost has been relentlessly publishing every single little snippet. There's just too many to count. They've covered EVERYTHING.

And People Magazine has also covered most of the drama, including the "baby brain" comment. They've skipped most of the genitalia stories because they're classy like that.

[the-full-shakespearience]

He was not of an age, but for all time

Sometimes that famous quote by Ben Johnson about Shakespeare feels more real to me. Shakespeare's work has been hugely popular for over 400 years, and it connects us not just to his time but to all the time in between.

This is a page from from my copy of Macbeth from The Temple Shakespeare. The Temple Shakespeare was a collection of Shakespeare's plays published individually. These little red volumes were published prolifically from 1894 - 1930 (The New Temple Shakespeare was published from 1934 - 1956). They're fairly common in vintage bookstores throughout the English-speaking world. My copy of Macbeth was published in 1896.

One of the previous owners (perhaps the original owner) left their name inside the cover:

It looks to me like the name is Z. R. Stuber (though it could also be E. R. Stuber). There is also a little ticket listing the bookseller, Gilbert and Field at 67 Moorsgate Street, London E.C. The only information I can find about the bookseller is a reference from the Royal Academy of Art. They have a listing for Don Quixote of the Mancha by Edward Abbott Parry that also had a ticket in the front cover for the same bookseller, which they describe only as a book seller in London during the 1890s.

The area of the city that housed this bookshop was heavily bombed during the Second World War, which lead to the widening of London Wall just west of here. Most of the buildings around this address are obviously modern, though this building is either older or was built/restored in an older style.

This is 67 Moorgate today, a store selling designer greeting cards and stationary:

This book went on its own journey for more than 120 years before I acquired it, being bought and sold an unknown number of times before getting here. It is a century older than I am. The people who first printed, sold, and bought it are gone. The store that sold it is gone. The street it was sold on is unrecognizable. The company that published it was bought by another company that was in turn bought, like a matryoshka doll of corporations.

The story inside was already ancient when this was published, and now the world in which it was created is as inaccessible as the Elizabethan Era.

And yet something has endured.

Knowing that other people have shared in these stories with us makes them real like almost nothing else can. Charles I retitled his copy of Much Ado About Nothing. Sylvia Plath annotated her Hamlet. Z. R. Stuber left their name in Macbeth.

This is my copy of Macbeth now, but for how long? Will it outlive me? Will its fragile pages fall apart before I do? Or maybe I'll leave my name in the cover so that one day someone else can try to decipher my handwriting and know that we read the same lines.

#shakespeare #macbeth #the temple shakespeare #vintage books #much ado about nothing #hamlet

[sjsmith56]

Trouble, Chapter 7 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: Bucky sends a letter to Lacey via her publisher. Soon after, he is caught.

Length: 5.2 K

Characters: Bucky, Steve

Warnings: Lots of violence

Author notes: The events in this chapter happen from about a month prior to the action in Captain America: Civil War movie up to the flight to Siberia. I have tried to minimize using dialogue from the movie but that is easier said than done so have paraphrased many segments or substituted my own dialogue. There are also some segments spoken in Romanian and Russian. They are in bold case.

<<Chapter 6

✉️ 🏍️

One month previous, Bucharest.

"Iacob!" called the truck driver. "What are you looking at? These boxes won't shift themselves!"

Bucky pulled his attention back to the boxes in the truck and picked up several of them, stacking them on a dolly. He pushed the dolly into the book store while trying to figure out how a poster with Lacey's picture on it could be on full display in the book store window. There had been no time to read the blurb that went with the picture except for the name identifying her as L.C. Chapman. The driver followed him with his clipboard and together he and the book store manager went over the boxes. Satisfied at the count the manager signed the paper on the clipboard and the truck driver ordered Bucky to take the dolly back to the truck.

"You're distracted today," said the driver in Romanian as they both got into the cab of the truck. "I've never seen you this way. We have eight more stops this morning. Get your head on straight, Iacob."

Bucky nodded. "Sorry," he said. "I'll do better."

As the driver went on to their next delivery Bucky thought over the name. L.C. Chapman. Did she get married? Perhaps she chose a new pen name to keep her identity secret, especially if the Russians were still after her. Part of him still worried that he shouldn't have left her but he knew if he stayed the CIA or FBI would eventually catch him, or worse yet, HYDRA would. After work he would go to the book store and have a better look at the display, perhaps buy the book. Throughout the rest of the work day he kept his thoughts away from Lacey and just did the heavy lifting he was hired for. When the truck driver returned to his depot he handed Bucky his time slip and told him to go get paid. It was in cash, which was exactly how he wanted it.

As he jumped on the streetcar that would take him near the bookstore he kept his head down out of habit. His stop came up and he stepped off, walking towards the business, stopping to look closer at the poster now that he had the time to do it. The poster was in Romanian but at the bottom it did say they had English language copies for sale. He stepped inside and looked intently at the book display picking up one of the English copies. He looked at the author information page and was pleasantly relieved that nothing indicated she had married. It did say she suffered from agoraphobia and lived in rural Iowa. He went back to the front of the book and read the summary, smiling that the plot referred to Virginia Woolf. Then he looked at the dedication page and was startled to see the following:

To my brother Tom. I miss you all the time.

To B. Thank you for the inspiration.

        L.C.C. June 2015

He smiled and pulled out some of his cash, paying for the book and walking to the market with it in his arm. Waving at some of the vendors who knew him as a regular he stopped and picked up some vegetables, putting them into the string bag he always carried in his jacket pocket. He heard his name and turned to see the fish vendor. He had a fresh catch in so Bucky picked out a trout and paid for it. The vendor said his name again and handed him something, a picture of himself.

"My daughter was practicing her photography and she took this of you," said the vendor. "I apologize she didn't ask your permission first. Here, it is yours."

Bucky looked at it and nodded his thanks. He thought of asking about any negatives but decided against it. He had a good relationship with the fish vendor and didn't want to sour it over a negative that would likely be in the bottom of a box. Before leaving the market he checked his surroundings, ever on the alert for anyone watching him. Then he took a roundabout way back to the small flat that had been home for the past year and a half. It was still dreary in many ways but it was clean, dry, and so far no one had come looking for him. After preparing and eating his dinner he laid back on the mattress and started reading Lacey's new book. As he read it he remembered something and stopped reading, putting her picture inside the page to mark his spot. He pulled out a journal type book from under the mattress and put a colour coded sticky note on the edge of the page, marking it as a memory from a certain time in his life. It was a memory of him buying Orlando: A Biography at a college campus bookstore with a senior coed on his arm. Her name was ... Edna, and they had a pretty intense physical relationship for the two weeks it lasted. Then he said something critical about the book and she took offence, telling him she didn't want to see him again. He finished writing the memory down and closed the journal.

He had several such journals, full of scattered memories, kept in a backpack that he hid under the floorboards of the apartment. It had been one of the first things he made in that dingy apartment, a hiding place for those precious memory books. The idea for it had come from the hiding place in Lacey's grandfather's house, the one the flash drive had been hidden in. Picking up Lacey's book he kept reading until almost midnight then reluctantly put it away. Stripping down to his boxers and undershirt he laid back on the mattress under the thin blanket and thought of Lacey again, hoping she was alright. Gradually, he fell asleep.

For the next few days he showed up at the truck depot, getting hired on for the day to do all the heavy lifting, receiving his cash wages at the end of the shift and heading out to the market to pick up food to eat. Then after eating he would lay on the mattress and either read Lacey's book or write down more memories that rose through the still cloudy recesses of his mind. When he finished the book after the third day he looked at it.

"Good work, Lacey," he said out loud, smiling. "I hope this one is more successful."

On an impulse he tore a sheet of paper out of one of his journals and wrote her a letter.

Dear Lacey,

I had the surprise of my life when I saw a huge poster of your face in a bookstore window. I returned there after finishing work and bought your new book. Thank you for the dedication but I really did nothing except read some Virginia Woolf in 1941. You incorporated her writings into your story in a way that was brilliant. You persevered and you succeeded. I'm so proud of you.

Obviously, I can't tell you where I am as I am still living under the radar. Every day I find an odd job that pays cash. It's enough to keep me in food, and books. In the centre of the city there is this beautiful market, full of fresh vegetables, fruits and anything else that one needs. They all know me there and keep the best produce for me, knowing that I appreciate it. Of course, I help out there from time to time, as well.

Nights are different. I stay home and read, or write down the memories that keep appearing in my mind. There is no rhyme or reason to them so I have taken to colour coding them with sticky tabs. Red is for war memories, blue is for before the war memories, yellow is for everything else except for sexual or erotic memories, which are purple. The latter often show up at the strangest times but I won't go into that other than to say the memory of our encounter won't ever have to be written down for me to remember.

I still think of that night we spent together. Making love with you was special and I will never forget how you looked when we were giving each other pleasure. There hasn't been anyone since and I'm not looking. I don't expect you to wait for me as I think I made it clear that we likely wouldn't see each other again. If you have a chance for love with a good man take it, run with it, and live it. I want you to be happy.

This seems like the right time to end this letter. I hope you are able to enjoy some success with your new book. I hope you find someone worthy of your love. I hope you are happy. I hope you don't forget me because I will never forget you.

Bucky

Before he could change his mind he put the picture with it inside an envelope and wrote her name in care of the publisher on it. Pulling his clothes on he ran to the small corner store and bought enough stamps for the letter to go to the United States. Then he posted it, tapping the mailbox with his hand before heading back to his quiet and lonely flat.

Three weeks later Bucky went to the market early as it was Saturday, he wasn't working, and it would be busy. As he picked up some plums something didn't feel right, and he looked around wondering why it felt like someone was watching him. Walking away from the fruit vendor he stood for a moment, still feeling exposed and looked up to see a man in the newspaper kiosk staring at him. The man definitely looked spooked and as Bucky approached him the man ran out of the kiosk. On the counter of the small booth was a newspaper with a blaring headline that Bucky stared at, not believing what he was reading. It was his picture and it said he had bombed a UN meeting in Vienna killing 12 people, including King T'Chaka of Wakanda, and injuring 70. He dropped it and backed away, trying not to hyperventilate. Taking his usual roundabout route he made his way to the flat only to find someone inside it. The man, whose back was to him, turned around and Bucky took a sharp intake of breath when he saw it was Steve. He was looking through one of his memory books.

Steve asked if Bucky remembered him. Bucky replied that he had read about him in a museum but Steve wasn't buying it, knowing that Bucky knew exactly who he was and why he was there.  Thinking it had to do with the newspaper headline Bucky said he wasn't there and wasn't responsible for anything like that.  But Steve was insistent that the people coming for him wouldn't believe him and were ready to kill him.

"Can't say I blame them," replied Bucky.  "Knowing what I've done in the past it's a smart move."

He listened to the sound of heavy boots on the roof above him and started turning towards the door.  Steve moved at the same time, trying to convince Bucky not to fight.

"I have no choice," replied Bucky, resigned to what was about to happen.  "If I don't, they'll kill me for sure."

"You pulled me out of the river and left me on the riverbank," said Steve desperately, as Bucky pulled the glove off of his metal hand. "Why did you do that?"

Bucky shrugged not wanting to admit that it may have been an impulse because he wasn't sure if he had really remembered who Steve was at that time.  Steve wasn't buying it but before he could say anything more the GS9 task force started their attack and threw flash bombs inside the room. Almost as if no time had passed from when they last fought together the two men coordinated their response to the attack and neutralized the bombs. As two armed men jumped into the room from the windows Bucky hit one, knocking him across the room to land at the other wall. After Steve dealt with the other he yelled at Bucky to not kill anyone. In response he knocked Steve over, punched the floor next to his head and glared at the man who had been his friend.

"I wasn't planning to," he said grimly, then reached into the hole in the floor and brought out his backpack from its hiding place.

Stuffing his remaining books into it he tossed it out the window onto the roof of the building next door. As more of the task force entered firing away Bucky fought them off and entered the stairwell. Steve watched Bucky methodically fight off attacker after attacker working his way down the stairwell until he had no choice but to jump only to break his fall by reaching out with his metal hand and grabbing the stair railing. Hauling himself onto that floor he ran down the hallway and out the opening at the end jumping onto the roof of the next building, rolling, and grabbing his backpack immediately.

Out of nowhere a man dressed completely in black attacked Bucky and they fought desperately against each other. Steve jumped to the roof while alerting Sam to their location. A police helicopter approached and fired at them until Sam was able to divert it. Bucky continued running across the roof, jumping off down to the ground, followed by the man in black then Steve. From there Bucky jumped down an opening into an underground roadway, running as fast as the cars were being driven. It seemed like every police car in the area was following him as he ran.  Steve was able to commandeer one putting himself ahead of the others. He became aware the man in black had attached himself to his car and tried to shake him but the man didn't let go until he saw Sam approach and leaped into the air, grabbing Sam's feet. Bucky was able to take control of a motorcycle and raced through the tunnel until he came upon a row of police cars blocking his way. Switching to the opposite lanes he weaved through oncoming traffic until the man in black succeeded in jumping on him. They fought on the bike and Bucky was able to temporarily shake him off but he succeeded in catching Bucky again and both men went down, rolling hard against the pavement. Before the man in black could attack Bucky, Steve intervened and the three men faced off against each other as they were surrounded by police cars as the armed officers in them came out training their weapons on the three. Sam was forced down by Colonel Rhodes in his War Machine suit and all four men in the pursuit put their hands up in surrender. Then the man in black deactivated the suit he was wearing, removed his head covering, and revealed his identity, Prince T'Challa of Wakanda.

Bucky didn't resist, allowing himself to be cuffed and transported to a location where he was secured into a reinforced pod that restrained all of his limbs. They took everything from his pockets, even the crucifix that Eleni gave him, worried that he could use it as a weapon. The pod was loaded into an armoured truck where Bucky was accompanied by four armed guards. He never spoke on the trip to Germany, to the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, but when they unloaded him in Berlin he saw Steve, Prince T'Challa and another man, who he recognized as the one who had searched for him in Canada, exit a police van. Steve made eye contact with him, not looking happy at how Bucky had been restrained but the former Winter Soldier was resigned to his fate. He had eluded the authorities for two years but deep in his heart he knew eventually he would be caught. At least he was alive and for that he had to thank Steve.

As he sat in the pod a man with glasses came in, introducing himself as Dr. Broussard, a UN appointed psychiatrist who was to assess him. There was something not right about Broussard, especially when he began asking Bucky questions.  For the most part Bucky ignored the man until suddenly the power went out and Dr. Broussard took a book out of his briefcase that brought up the metallic taste of fear into Bucky's mouth.  He recognized it as the red book that his Russian HYDRA handler had used and it contained the activation words that would bring out the Winter Soldier.

"No," he whispered, as the man began to recite the activation words that would activate the Winter Soldier, then he began yelling at the man to stop.

The man kept saying the words and Bucky began screaming as he tried to break out of the restraints wanting to stop the man from saying the words. He broke the restraints and kept punching the glass on the pod, desperately trying to break free before the man finished the last word but he was too late.  As he felt his own personality sink down deep into blackness, the personality of the Winter Soldier stepped forth when he finally broke through the door of the pod.

"Soldier?" asked the man in Russian as Bucky rose from the floor.

"Ready to comply," replied the Winter Soldier, also in Russian, his face impassive.

"Mission report," said the man, switching to English. "Tell me about December 16, 1991."

The Soldier made his report and waited for his next orders.  The man told him to hide and wait for Captain America to arrive, then stop him from following. Broussard laid on the floor pretending to be injured. Steve and Sam arrived within moments to the sight of the destroyed pod. Looking at the bodies of the guards on the floor Steve knew the psychiatrist had used the activation words, just like Lacey had warned him. The man sneered at Steve when he was hauled up from the floor, saying he wanted to see an empire fall. Suddenly behind him Steve heard the sounds of Sam being attacked.  Turning he saw Bucky in the persona of the Winter Soldier picking Sam up and throwing him across the room. Advancing towards the Soldier the two men fought, punching each other as the Soldier forced him backwards to the elevator door where he pushed Steve through, making him fall to the bottom of the shaft. As Sam and Steve regained their senses the fake psychiatrist escaped while the Soldier made his way to the main floor atrium where anyone who tried to stop him was brutally beaten back.

T'Challa fought him and even he was thrown to the floor as the Soldier went up the stairs towards the roof. A helicopter strapped into a set of secure locks was unclipped by the Soldier, then he opened the door to the cockpit and started it up. As the aircraft began to rise into the air Steve burst through the door to the roof and approached the helicopter, grabbing its landing skids and forcing it down. Increasing the thrust to take off forced Steve to hold on to a welded steel frame on the edge of the building.  With all of his strength Steve held it with one hand and braced his feet while grasping on to one of the skids with the other hand. Unable to take off the Soldier grimly directed the helicopter towards Steve, attempting to kill him with the rotors. Steve avoided injury by dropping and the rotors were destroyed when they hit the roof, grounding the helicopter. As Steve rose to look inside the cockpit a titanium fist came through the glass and fastened itself around his throat with the determined face of the Soldier trying to complete his mission glaring at him the whole time. Leaning into the destroyed helicopter Steve was able to force it off the building and into a canal beside the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. The impact jarred loose the Soldier's hand and Steve watched as the Soldier was knocked unconscious. Reaching inside, he unstrapped Bucky and swam underwater with him to rise to the surface in a different location.

When Bucky came to he felt terrible. His head rang like a bell but when he moved he found his titanium arm clamped in a large industrial vise. Looking around he realized he was inside an abandoned warehouse and wondered if HYDRA had succeeded in getting their hands on him. The black man who he recognized earlier called out to Steve and they both came into the space where Bucky was confined. He murmured Steve's name and his friend looked at him carefully wondering out loud if he was still the soldier.

Bucky told Steve his mother's name was Sarah, then grinned when he recounted the memory of Steve filling his shoes with folded pieces of newspapers in a desperate attempt to appear taller.  It brought a smile from Steve's face, as it was something that wouldn't be in a museum.  It was a memory only they shared.  Sam, wasn't quite convinced but took Steve's word for it that the Soldier was gone, for now.  It got serious when Bucky looked anxiously at Steve and asked what happened. By the look on Steve's face Bucky realized that the activation code had been used on him to bring out the Winter Soldier.

"The words are still there inside my head," agonized Bucky. "Anyone could say them and I would have no choice but to obey."

Steve asked about the doctor who had activated him but Bucky had no idea who he was. Steve chastised him which Bucky remembered him doing growing up when he thought Bucky was trying to pass the buck. Bucky tried to remember then it came to him.

"Siberia," he stated. "He asked about Siberia, when I was kept there."

He felt almost sick as he remembered what was in Siberia and he told the two men there were more Winter Soldiers, more dangerous than him, kept in a cold storage facility, waiting for the day when they could be awakened and unleashed on the world. Steve released him from the clamp of the vice and Bucky told them everything he remembered about the other Winter Soldiers, comprised of a highly trained Russian death squad. Sam, who Steve had finally introduced properly, realized they were unlikely to get anyone to believe them about the others. But he and Steve knew they were going to need some help. As Steve and Bucky listened Sam made a couple of phone calls. Help was on the way.

After laying low overnight they found an older Volkswagen Beetle and Steve hot wired it, to the amusement of the other two. Steve drove them to an underpass where a government issued vehicle waited for them and he got out of the Volkswagen. A blond lady exited the other vehicle and opened the trunk, revealing Sam's Falcon suit and Captain America's gear.

"That's Sharon Carter," said Sam, sitting in the front seat. "She's related to Peggy Carter. You knew her, right?"

"Yeah," replied Bucky. "She wouldn't give me the time of day. Only had eyes for Steve. Can you move the seat up?"

Sam glanced back. "Not happening," he replied bluntly.

Bucky reluctantly moved to the other side of the back seat. He wasn't sure he liked this guy, Sam. Steve and Sharon kept talking and he suddenly pulled her towards him, kissing her tenderly. Then they pulled apart and Steve began taking the gear out of the trunk. He looked back at Sam and Bucky who both just smiled and nodded their approval at him. From there they drove to an airport parking structure, going up to where a large white van was parked. Steve pulled up next to it and an older man, identified as Clint, got out of the driver's seat. He looked sharply at Bucky but Steve shook his head slightly and Clint said nothing to him. A young woman, Wanda, came out of the passenger seat then Clint opened the back of the van revealing a stranger to all except Sam. The stranger sleepily sat up and saw Steve, coming forward and shaking his hand eagerly before he saw Sam. They greeted each other and Bucky figured they knew each other. At that moment an announcement in German was broadcast across the airport. Bucky listened and turned to them.

"They're ordering the evacuation of the airport," he translated.

"Get ready," ordered Steve.

Shortly after they were at the tarmac where a helicopter arranged by Clint waited for them. Steve ran to it but was intercepted by two men in metal flying suits, Iron Man and War Machine, realized Bucky, remembering them from HYDRA briefings, as he watched from the terminal with Sam. As Black Panther, a red headed woman, and a kid in a spider costume also appeared Steve explained that it was the psychiatrist who triggered Bucky. He tried to tell them about the super soldiers still in Russia but they weren't going to listen and he knew it would come to a fight. In his comms Sam told Steve where the quinjet was and the battle lines were drawn. Bucky stayed with Sam in the terminal but the kid in the spider costume kept them busy, surprising Bucky with his strength when they briefly fought one on one. Eventually everyone squared off against each other outside and Sam realized that a sacrifice had to be made, making it known to the others on their comms. The goal was to get Steve and Bucky to the quinjet. Everyone else was expendable. Clint agreed with Sam and they changed their tactics, resulting in Steve and Bucky making it to the hangar where they were confronted by Natasha, the red headed woman, who looked vaguely familiar to Bucky. Like Clint she also looked sharply at him.

"Promise you'll tell him," she said to Steve. "Promise, or I won't help you."

"I promise," said Steve. "I'll tell him everything."

She aimed her taser weapon at them then shifted it to hit an approaching Black Panther repeatedly and disable him long enough for Steve and Bucky to get into the quinjet and get it started. T'Challa tried to grasp hold of the landing gear but they were able to take off and he fell to the ground. Steve set the course and turned on the autopilot before looking steadily at Bucky.

"What was she talking about?" demanded Bucky. "What do you have to tell me?"

"There's no easy way to tell you any of it," said Steve, "so I'll start with a name. Lacey Williams or as she is known now, Lacey Chapman."

Bucky looked pointedly at Steve. "How do you know about her?" he asked anxiously. "Is she alright? Did the Russians...?"

"She's alright," said Steve, putting his hands out to calm Bucky. "She lives on Clint's farm with his family. Her and her son."

Bucky said nothing at first but as he realized Steve mentioned a son he looked stunned. "Her son?" he asked. "When did she have a baby?"

"About nine months after you left her," said Steve. "He's your son, eight months old, has your blue eyes and looks just like you."

"No, that's not possible," protested Bucky. "She was on a pill. I'm sterile from all the shit HYDRA pumped into me."

"Not as sterile as you think," said Steve. "It must have worn off because she found me a month after you left and asked for our protection to keep her and the baby secret from the CIA and HYDRA. She lived with us in Stark Tower until we were attacked there. Long story. Clint's family lives on a farm that doesn't legally exist. He offered her his protection and she took him up on it. I was with her when Tommy was born."

"Tommy?" repeated Bucky, still not completely convinced.

"She named him Thomas James, after her murdered brother and you," replied Steve. "I'm the one who called him Tommy. As soon as he was born I knew he was your son."

Steve reached inside his uniform and pulled out a flip phone. He opened the photo gallery and brought up a small photograph of Lacey and Tommy from a couple of weeks previous. Then he handed it to Bucky. The dark haired man sat back, peering at small pictures of a baby who had his eyes and the blond woman who found herself pregnant after he left her. Flipping through the gallery of pictures he looked at all the images Steve had taken of the baby from the day he was born to the most recent. He handed the phone back to Steve looking at him steadily.

"I have to make this right," he said. "As soon as we get that doctor you have to take me to the States so I can make it right with her."

"It's not the 1940s anymore, Buck," replied Steve. "She made the choice to have the baby, to keep it and to raise it herself. She wants you to get right for yourself first. Get the arm replaced, get the activation words out of your head, and get treatment for all the torture you suffered. I think she's right on this one. She's a strong woman and she'll wait for you."

"That's not how we were brought up," replied Bucky, raising his voice. "You know that. How can I leave her on her own while she raises my son?"

"She's a successful novelist," replied Steve, "and she has more money than you or I have. She'll be okay, I promise. She wants you to be well before you're together again. I'm pretty sure she wants a future with you, if you want the same."

Bucky sat there, contemplating everything then looked at Steve with resignation on his face. "Alright," he declared. "We get the doctor and then we find someone who can take this thing off. I'll go for treatment. Once I'm better, I'll see if she still wants me."

"Do you want her?" pressed Steve, trying to gauge how Bucky felt about her.

"Yeah," he replied after a pause. "If I had met her before the war I would have married her. She's the one."

Steve grinned and patted Bucky on the shoulder. When Lacey had first told him about being with Bucky he had been concerned that she was just a one-night stand but Bucky's admission that she was the one gladdened him. Not only for Bucky's sake but for Lacey's. She was worth the commitment and he would do all that he could to make sure they were reunited.

Chapter 8>>

Series Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #sam wilson #steve rogers #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #bucharest

[beachy-writer]

You’re A Challenge {Alan Frog X Reader}

A/n: I really hope y’all like this, I am way too obsessed with The Lost Boys rn and just need to write:)

Y/N POV:

“Why do you guys open so early?” I ask yawning as the two frog brothers begin to restock the books. “It’s 8:30. Most shops are already open” Edgar said towards me. “Yeah but still” I whined. I was sitting at the counter watching them.

“You could help us?” Alan suggested. “Fine” I sighed, shaking my head. I walked over to Alan with a cart full of The Fantastic Four comics. I grabbed a stack and started putting them on the shelf beside Alan. “I’ll be right back” Edgar said and walked into one of the back rooms.

Me and Alan continued to silently put the books onto the displays. That is until Alan broke the silence by saying “are you busy later today?”. “No why?” I asked while thinking ‘great, he’s gonna ask me to work an extra shift’. “I was wondering if you wanted to…um, hangout later?” He asked hiding his nervousness terribly. “Of course!” I said and smiled.

He looked kind of shocked. “Did you think I was going to say no?” I asked slightly amused. “I didn’t know what you were going to say if I’m being honest” he said and gave a rare smile. “What about the store?” I asked. “I talked to Edgar already” Alan said and got back to putting the books on the shelf.

Edgar came out of the back room and got back to his stack of books, looking over at me and Alan with a small smile every once and a while. We soon opened shop and and me and Alan sat at the counter. “What are our plans for tonight?” I asked Alan while sitting on a stool in front of him while he was leaned up on the counter. “You’ll like it” is all he said before he wandered off to find his brother.

Our friend Sam soon came into the shop and started talking to me once he saw me. “Hey Y/n” he said as he walked up in front of the counter. “Yo what’s up Sam” I said before the frog brothers walked over. “Hey” Edgar said, holding a few Superman comics. We talked for a bit until Edgar and Sam wondered off to go see the new copies of the Vampire comics we got.

“We’re gonna leave around 6 ok?” Alan asked, still standing at the counter. “Sounds good Froggy” I said and walked away to find Sam and Edgar, leaving Alan at the counter. I walked I to the back room and saw Edgar and Sam hovering over a box of comics. “Hey guys” I said as I entered.

“It it true you’re going on a date with Alan?” Sam turned his head and asked with a teasing smile on his face. “No, we’re just hanging out man, jeez.” I sighed. “Did you tell him it was a date Ed?” I asked the younger frog brother. “Mmm, no, i don’t think so” he replied still reading a comic. “Oh wait yeah I might’ve” he said plainly looking up briefly.

“Thanks” I said with a sarcastic/teasing smile. “No problem” he replied. Sam just laughed and Alan walked in silently. “What?” He asked when we all stared at him. “Nothing nothing” Sam said with a smile grin. Alan looked slightly confused until he saw Edgar trying not to laugh looking at his comic book. “Seriously Edgar” he rolled his eyes and left and Edgar started laughing along with Sam. “You two better go to the counter before a customer arrives.” I said and left the room.

I went out to find Alan while shaking my head. I found him in a storage room pacing. “God I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have told Edgarrr. Now she thinks I’m weird ughh” He groaned in frustration with his hands behind his head, looking at the ground.

I walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and turned around quickly. “Don’t do that.” He said instantly. “Sorry” I said and slightly laughed. “What’s wrong?” I asked him after a moment of silence. “Nothing, what do you mean” he said and looked away from me. “You’re funny if you don’t know why I’m asking that.” I said.

He sighed and stayed quiet, “Come on let’s just leave early” Alan said and took my hand. He lead us out of the shop and towards the beach. “Did you hear that stuff I said in the storage room?” He asked still holding my hand. “Yeah, I don’t know why you were so upset” I said looking at our hands.

“I just didn’t want you to find out…that way at least” he said as he lead us to a rocky area under the boardwalk. “Is it true?” I asked him while we sat on a few rocks by the shore. “Is what true?” He asked even though he knew what I was asking. “That you wanted this to be a date?…that you like me?” I asked with a small bit of hope that it would actually be true. He stayed silent for a second before saying “what if I did like you…”. “I don’t think you understand” I told him rolling my eyes.

“Understand what?” Alan asked. “I’ve had the bigger crush on you for so long. How have you not noticed?” I asked Ik astonishment. “You…wait you like me?” He asked slowly with a look for confusion and slight hope. “YES. Oh my god! Jeez you’re a challenge!” I said hurrying my face in my hands. I looked at him through my hands and he just smiled and wrapped his arms around me.

I smiled into his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his neck. He smelt like old magazines and a faint smell of wood. “So does that mean we’re…?” He asked but didn’t finish after we pulled apart. “Dating? Yes” I said and laughed. “Sounds good to me” he said and got up. He gave me his hand and pulled me to my feet and started walking us back.

He continued to hold my hand on the way back to the store. By the time we had got back Ed and Sam had filled all of the shelves with comics. “Woah ho ho look at these two” Sam loudly whispered to Edgar. Edgar looked over and smiled at his brother. Alan sarcastically rolled his eyes with a small smile. “So you’re?” Sam asked. “Dating, isn’t it obvious?” Edgar said in an obvious tone to Sam.

#lost boys #the lost boys #alan frog #edgar frog #sam emerson #alan frog x reader #x reader #vampire #corey haim #corey feldman #80s #80s aesthetic #80s movies #santa carla #nanook #ninook #alan #edgar #sam #frog #Emerson #comics

[critrolecannibal]

I went to the half priced book store today with a friend. I went in to help a friend find some new horror books and continue my search for the first Discworld series book (I've had a hard time finding it at local libraries).

Scrolling through the books I found a paperback copy of Good Omens and I flicked through it, as you do with books. I wasn't going to get it because I had just recently borrowed it from the library, but as I flicked through the pages I found a rainbow piece of paper between the pages- right at the part where Aziraphale blushes because he combusted the traffic cops ticket book as they drove toward The Ritz.

And I thought to myself, this is perfect. Especially after a disappointing interaction I had with my mom yesterday where she said she probably won't be watching S2 of Good Omens anytime soon due to our grandparents moving in with us and she doesn't want to explain anything to my grandmother, referring to Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship.

So I did end up purchasing the book, and now I have my very own copy of Good Omens. Rainbows included.

#good omens #good omens s2 #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #gos2spoilers #aziraphale and crowley #good omens book #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #books & libraries

[loneberry]

notes on the singing world

This morning I sat outside on my back porch, drinking my coffee at 7:30am, soaking up the early sun. There was peace in my heart, a peace I wish I could give to everyone in the world. We still don’t know the source of it. I listened to a live recording of the Brazilian singer Gal Costa singing “Baby”—“Você precisa saber da piscina, Da margarina, da Carolina, da gasolina...” The crowd roars with those opening lyrics. You can hear the whole audience singing along, “Baby, baby, I love you...” I wept some tears of joy and wrote in my notebook, “You know, when I die, I will be sad to leave the world behind. I loved this broken world, I loved it truly.” 

Then I read a journal entry from a week ago:

April 13

Today the sky went from sunny to gray sunny to gray. Stepped out of my house, into the blustery air—two pigeons were perched above the commuter rail, their iridescent throats catching the spring sun. Turning down Oxford Street, Kimya Dawson came on over my headphones. I haven’t thought of Kimya Dawson in nearly 20 years, I thought, and was flooded with memories of high school, teenage emotion, so embarrassingly earnest. Once I left a comment on Kimya’s livejournal: “I couldn’t get a ticket to your show...” She put me on the guest list, how sweet of her. “And the road’s still long but you come along...” 

I felt calm. Thought: so this is the calm that follows a long cry. The whole world and its kaleidoscopic array of details were singing to me: the white petals of the star magnolia aloft on the wind, a stranger’s purple sari blowing in the breeze as she crosses the street, the tuxedo cat sitting in the periwinkles, pink saucer magnolia blooms above some blue graffiti, observed through a chain link fence.

I walk to the Charles River and sit on a bench watching the daffodils lining the bank of the river dance in the wind while the sparkling light on the surface of the water twinkles in the background. Once Bhanu Kapil and I sat by this river admiring the daffodils. At sunset we sat with our eyes closed, doing a sun meditation before we walked over to the Houghton Library for her reading with Fred Moten. We wandered around the Harvard campus and she posted a photo of me on her blog doing a peace sign in the Harvard Math Department. On the counter next to the Keurig coffee maker, Ed made an intricate mandala out of sugar packets and wood coffee stirrers. She made a joke about Indians and Russians both loving chess and mathematics. 

Drifting in and out of memories. I observe an old man in a beret taking photos with his vintage medium format camera of the daffodils and the river. He says Hello. I smile and say Hello. A woman is on a blanket in the grass, photographing her dog rolling around on its back. 

I wander around Harvard Square. Through the window of Tasty Burger I see a young black woman and white man (probably undergrads) acting playfully as they eat. She sticks her tongue out. He taps it with his finger. They do this over and over. I go into Harvard Book Store, leaf through some books, and buy a copy of Amelia Rosselli’s Sleep. So many words. I wonder about the books I will write, the people who are on the other end of that strange relationship, the relationship between writer and reader. 

I used to have a dragnet mind, used to walk around in a state of pure awe, my window of perception so wide—it was the world, simple, resplendent, endlessly offering itself to me. I humbly accepted it, that gift of quotidian grace. Ordinary things glowed with a freshness that brought tears to my eyes. It’s rarer now, but still, I cherish the days when I can feel the world singing to me. 

The world. Tell them—tell them, she loved it truly. 

#music #memory #grace #mysticism #gal costa #flowers #spring #daffodils #gentleness

[princess-ibri]

So I went to a second-hand store today and was able to get my hands on a copy of this book here. I'm reading through it slowly right now and so far I've liked how they've decided to retell The Little Mermaid in this. They've added some really cool additions like the added aspect of Ariel keeping a diary so we get a really good glimpse into her inner thoughts and a whole new character that wasn't in the film Crystalla who provides us with some new lore and world-building. I haven't gotten to reading the other two stories yet but if they also add unique aspects to the story the films didn't touch upon I'm sure I'll like them.

Oh yes I think I’ve heard of that one before! From what I’ve heard it seems like Crystalla sort of fills the role of the grandmother mermaid in the original story and I like that a lot!

#disney #Disney books #the little mermaid #asks #disney merch #ariel #jasmine #esmeralda #the hunchback of notre dame #aladdin

[heroes-villains-side-blog]

:)))))

I downloaded yWriter and have been using it for this proper book idea I have.

It's desktop only. I started using it because I'm too addicted to my phone and want something structured and Google Docs keeps crashing.

And I found a solution for one of the problems I had!

The 2 problems I had were:

#1

It's desktop only. Which I keep feeling sad about but then that just shows my addiction.

And I'm listening to Brandon Sanderson's creative writing playlist and he emphasizes consistency and setting a time to write. And yWriter will help me with that, I hope, because I need to utilize the time I'm on desktop because now.

So, that's not really a problem for me, per se because I'm looking forward to this (feature not a bug lol).

#2

Spellchecker.

It has a spellchecker which turns all my incorrect spellings red, that's fine. The problem is: it doesn't show me the right spelling that I can just click and be done with — I have to manually retype it (like olden times).

But I found a solution! :D

I've moved to Firefox and absolutely enjoying all the extensions 🤗 (and the ad-less YouTube I get from one of them is fire 🔥💅)

And I downloaded a spellchecker extension because it had the "recommended" badge, instead of going for generic Grammarly

It's called LanguageTool

Edit: As per last week (today's 10th July 2023) LanguageTool introduced a new feature call rephrasing that uses OpenAI which, according to LanguageTool's privacy policy, reserves the right to store your data. and I couldn't find out how to opt out. I have deleted it and contacted LanguageTool and Firefox.

Made a post about it here.

I checked it out on Google Docs while proofreading a doc for work, and I liked “picky reader” option.

I went to their website and they had a desktop version! AND, while it doesn't work with yWriter directly, I can still use it for it! I just need to:

Select my text in yWriter (Ctrl+A)

Use the shortcut that opens that text in LanguageTool (I set it to Ctrl+Q)

Use the tool

And then copy-paste back in yWriter!

This is awesome! And LanguageTool is private and doesn't track (it was recommended by Firefox/Mozilla so it better be lol) which is a plus because I'm big on internet privacy now :)

#ywriter #Languagetool #online tools #internet privacy #writeblr #my writing journey #evil writing journey