#to read*

[nosebleedclub]

@inkskinned’s book finally arrived!!! Starting it now!

[spelllingandthemysteryschool]

i’m completely obsessed with this interview, i love the gravity with which it treats their work… performance artists for our times fr 🥂

[savage-flirtation]

[windrixville]

for anyone interested, haymarket books is currently offering free ebook downloads of books that explore the history and struggle for justice in palestine.

[folklorespring]

russia commits genocide in Ukraine

https://www.thetimes.com/world/russia-ukraine-war/article/they-tried-to-make-us-russians-the-children-putin-stole-kpf9vrv7b

[fromtheseventhhell]

Someone created a Master Document for Palestine, the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Sudan, Haiti, Yemen, and Hawai'i full of relevant accounts to follow, legitimate causes to donate to, and information on their current situations. OP also plans to keep this doc updated and include additional countries, so you can check it periodically for new details. This is a great resource to help educate yourself and help share information!

[hiveworks]

Creators at Hiveworks always deliver when it comes to slow burn! This February, dive into ✨these webcomics ✨

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Sleepless Domain by @cubewatermelon Barbarous by @aidosaur & @ananthhirsh Namesake by @secondlinaa & @savvyliterate Kochab by @erysiumum Tigress Queen by @allidrawscomics This is not Fiction by @tinfcomic In Blood We Rise @vikingmera

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[teaspoonnebula]

Enjoy receiving emails from besotted biographers about their genius associates?

Then have I got some email bookclubs starting in 2024 for you!

[IMG A cartoon of Holmes and Watson running side by side, dressed in country tweeds. Holmes is pointing. Lettering reads Letters from Watson, the Novels]

Letters from Watson is reading through the Sherlock Holmes short stories by Arthur Conan Doyle throughout 2023.

In 2024 we'll be reading the novels starting January 1st, with A Study in Scarlet. Hold on for more mystery and adventure with the Great Detective and his dashing doctor.

[IMG A cartoon of Raffles and Bunny running side by side, dressed in formal suits and top hats and wearing masks. Raffles is clutching some pearls and has jewels in his pockets. Lettering reads Letters from Bunny]

But perhaps you'd rather take a little trip to the other side of the law?

Letters from Bunny will be reading the Raffles stories by EW Hornung, featuring gentleman thief (and cricketer) AJ Raffles and his burglar companion Bunny Manders, from the Ides of March (March 15th)

[IMG A cartoon of Jeeves and Wooster walking side by side, Wooster dressed in colourful clothes and a boater, Jeeves in a monocrome suit. Lettering reads 'Letters Regarding Jeeves']

For something a little lighter, Letters Regarding Jeeves will be reading the uproarously funny public domain stories featuring chap about town Bertie Wooster and his bulging-brained valet Jeeves, starting February 14th.

Reblogs appreciated to spread the word!

[the-sky-bison]

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas - Penguin Clothbound Classics Edition

[floral-ashes]

Hey, allies! 🏳️‍⚧️

For Trans Day of Visibility, you should buy books by trans authors. Buy two copies, one for yourself and one for a trans friend! 📚

You are also obligated to share this post. I don’t make the TDoV rules, I only enforce them. 😘

[silverstuff50]

Out Now! The Checkout

Harry is always having to buy embarrassing things at his local mini supermarket. Which would be fine if the guy who worked there wasn't the most beautiful alpha he's ever seen.

Written for the @1domegaverseficfest

“I said, I hope your husband has a nice birthday,” the alpha says, still smiling. It's polite, and Harry can’t work out why there’s an edge to the man’s voice, but there definitely is. Maybe he’s pissed off with Harry for not listening the first time. Wouldn’t be a surprise; Harry is so shit at talking to people.  

And, oh. The alpha thinks he’s married. Because of course he fucking does, Harry’s buying a card that says husband on it and a bottle of prosecco. He really wants to set the record straight, even though there is zero chance it matters anyway.

“Oh! Oh, right, yeah. No,” he says, and the alpha looks confused and amused. Harry feels his face redden more than it was before. “I mean, the card is for Niall.” The alpha nods, still looking slightly confused, and Harry realises that really doesn’t explain anything.

[riordanness]

all i’ve ever wanted - [w.wonka]

wordcount: 2.0K

requested: yes! anon <3

warnings: bit of angst and heartbreak

I watch, a smile on my face as Willy walks slowly through the old building.

“So?” Noodle asks expectantly. “Do you like it?” I know how hard she tried to get this for him. She wanted nothing but for him to be happy, and I agreed. Willy Wonka was the kind of person you couldn’t bear to see sad.

“Do I like it?” Willy breaks into a smile. “Oh, Noodle, it’s just as I always imagined. No, scratch that–it’s better than I imagined!”

Noodle grins, and jumps up to give him a hug. I watch them, a twinge in my gut. I think I’d give anything to hug him like that.

Piper lets out a cheer, and Lottie and I exchange a grin.

We had a huge job ahead of us, but with Willy Wonka, I’m pretty sure just about anything is possible.

I stand beside Noodle, cradling a perfect blue chocolate flower in my hands. Willy has his hand on the doors, ready to walk out and announce to the world that Wonka’s Chocolate Shop is officially open for business.

I exchange an excited grin with Noodle, then I turn my focus to Willy. He takes a deep breath, muttering something so quietly that I can’t hear; then he pushes open the doors.

Sunlight filters into the dark room, illuminating the faces of my friends. We’re all holding our breaths in anticipation.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Willy announces, his voice strong and clear. “Welcome to Wonka’s. Incredible things are waiting in store, both literally and metaphorically.”

“What, in there?” A man’s voice sounds incredulous.

“Humour me.” Willy has a smile in his voice.

He leads the older man through the shop, as the six of us light up the building, pulling ropes and shooting strings of sugary goodness into the air. Lottie passes out umbrellas, Crunch and Larry ride the bicycles, and I hand out mini chocolate baskets to the children.

It’s beautiful, and it’s amazing, and I keep finding myself staring at Willy, his face alive with joy and contentedness. This is all he’s ever wanted, and I’m so glad I get to share it with him.

People have begun to line up at the front counter, their chocolate baskets filled to the brim with colourful goodies. Abacus is on the till, typing in numbers, writing receipts and giving out change. Noodle is beside him, handing out smiles.

I spot Willy, standing alone, gazing happily at the joyful customers around him. I trip merrily over, coming to a stop at his side. “Congrations, Mr Chocolatier.”

His smile is warmer than melted chocolate. “Thank you, dear y/n.” His eyes flit once more over the shop, then settle on me. “And thank you, so so much, for doing so much for me and for this shop.”

I laugh, a little awkwardly. “It’s no problem at all.”

“You see, this thing is…” He seems to hesitate, like he’s unsure of what to say.

“Go on,” I say quietly.

“Y/n, I know I have only known you for a short time. I also know that most of that time was spent either scrubbing laundry or you and Noodle trying to teach me to read, but in that short amount of time I have fallen in love with you. I love the way you laugh, and sing, and how you always try to make the people around you happy even if you’re really the one who needs comforting. You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever known, sweeter than even my best chocolates. I’ve spent my entire life alone and on the move, and now I... I can’t imagine not being in yours.”

He stops, taking a deep breath.

I stare at him, a little bit in shock. “What are you saying?” I ask, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

“I’m saying that I’m in love with you.” He doesn’t meet my eyes, shyly playing with his cane instead.

“Oh.”

His face scrunches a little, and he sighs. “I’m sorry. That probably wasn't the right thing to say.”

“No!” I shake my head adamantly. “No, it–it was perfect, Willy.” I don’t know why I’m so worried about this, but I try for a not-so-nervous smile. “I’m in love with you too, you know. From the first second you fell down that laundry chute. I just didn’t tell you because, well, I didn’t think I would ever be good enough for someone like you, Willy.”

He laughs under his breath. “Y/n, you are the one no one could ever be good enough for.”

“Really?” My voice is small, but I can hear my smile in the word.

“Yes.” He nods, then reaches for me, his fingertips delicately brushing my cheek. I instinctively lean into his touch, and my heart feels full to burst with happiness. He’s all I’ve ever wanted.

And when he kisses me, it feels like my chest is filled with melted chocolate.

Horror fills me as I stare at what’s left of Wonka’s shop. Smoke rises in small, winding columns. Lottie carries a fire extinguisher, putting out any little leftover fires. Melted chocolate, disintegrated sweets, and shattered glass are everywhere.

“What happened?” Piper asks desperately, tears glittering in her eyes.

“The chocolate cartel,” Abacus replies gruffly, wiping the ash from his shirt.

I exchange a heartbroken look with Noodle, watching as she lays a hand on Willy’s shoulder. He’s sitting downheartedly on the floor, his eyes fixed resolutely on the half-melted chocolate cherry tree.

“It’s okay, Willy,” Noodle tries to insist, “we can rebuild.”

“It’s no use, Noodle.” Willy doesn’t even look at her. “She wasn't here.”

Noodle’s face clears in understanding. “You didn’t seriously think that–”

“Oh, I did,” Willy says. “She pinky promised.”

“Willy–”

“Come on, Noodle,” Abacus breaks in, touching her on the arm gently. “I think Mr Wonka needs to be alone.”

Noodle sighs and follows Crunch out, while the rest of the crew silently file after them, leaving just Willy and I.

I sit gingerly beside him. “Are you okay, my love?”

Willy seems to stiffen at my words. “I’m fine. Please, I’d—I'd like to be alone right now. I’ll see you back at the laundry.”

I want to argue. I want to stay. But I understand. “Alright.” I get to my feet, and leave quietly, glancing back at Willy twice. Neither time does he look back at me.

Little did I know that I know that I wouldn’t see him back at the laundry, and that my last image of him was his hunched and upset figure, curled over his knees.

Noodle sits on my bed, watching me. I’m curled into a ball, hugging my pillow close to my chest.

“Y/n,” she says again, “it’s okay. He’s gonna come back.”

I shake my head. “He isn’t, Noodle. You heard Mrs Scrubbit downstairs. He made a deal with the Cartel. He’s gone.”

Noodle sighs. “I don’t believe that.”

“Well you should,” I say aggressively, sitting up. “He left us. He—he didn’t even say goodbye.” My voice breaks. Tears gather in my throat again, and I’m flooded with angry sobs.

“Do you want to be alone?” Noodle whispers.

Just before I can answer, Bleacher bangs on the door. “Time to get up! Mrs Scrubbit wants you all downstairs before breakfast.”

I groan, and pull myself up off my rickety bed. “Come on, Noodle-dee,” I say softly. “We’d better go see what she wants.”

Noodle tries to smile, for me. “Okay, y/n-doo.”

I file after her down the stairs, falling in line with the rest of the laundry crew.

“Look at all the long faces ‘round here,” Mrs Scrubbit says, a glint in her eye. “It’s almost like you lot has a sneaky little plan to escape.”

We line up, facing Mrs Scrubbit. “Your friend, Mr Wonka, done a deal with Mr Slugworth. Settled your accounts. Crunch, you’re free to go.”

One by one, Abacus, Lottie, Piper, and Larry all get a little ticket and leave. Soon, it’s just Noodle and I left.

“And now for you two.” Mrs Scrubbit’s smile is sickly sweet. “The biggest piles of the lot. But these ain’t to let you go.”

“What?” Noodle demands.

“Mr Slugworth doesn’t think nasty little orphans like you should be out on the streets, Noodle. This money is to keep you locked up for good.”

“I hate you!” Noodle shouts, slamming her fists into the bench. “You—“

Mr Bleacher grabs her, holding her arms still.

“Look at her go, Lord Bleacherfitz!” Mrs Scrubbit says gleefully.

“You don’t still think he’s a lord, do you?” Noodle cries. “We made it all up, you stupid old hag!”

“Why you little brat—“ Mrs Scrubbit clutches Noodle by the shirt. “You’re going in the coop, my girl! And you.” She points at me. “To the wash house, forever. You’ll never see daylight again, you hear?”

She drags Noodle away, both of them yelling.

I’m left with Bleacher, feeling as if I have a heavy weight on my chest. I can’t believe he just left us. Got a ticket out of here and abandoned Noodle and I.

I thought… I thought he loved me.

“Down you go,” Bleacher says gruffly. “Now!” He shoves me unceremoniously down the laundry chute, and I don’t even try to stop him. I land in a heap of clothes, and I don’t move.

I stare at the ceiling, at all the washing lines and steaming cracks in the roof.

My head hurts, but nothing compares to my heartache. I don’t think I will ever get over Willy Wonka. He’s the kind of person you only meet once, and you never forget them. Especially if you loved them with your entire heart.

But sometimes people like that aren’t good inside, and they can leave you, hurt and lonely and destroyed.

He’s gone, and I’m alone.

I must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because I rouse when I hear Noodle’s familiar voice. “Y/n, come on!” she hisses, grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet. “We’ve gotta go!”

I blink sleepily. “Wait, what? How did you—“

“He came back! They all did.”

“He… Willy?” I don’t want to believe it, I don’t want to see him but oh, I do. I do.

Noodle’s curls jump wildly as she nods. “Yes! He’s come back for us, c’mon!”

I follow her to the dumb waiter chute, and we both climb inside, clicking it shut. I press the ‘up’ button, and the crate clicks and shudders into motion.

I’m half excited, half still hurt. I can't decide if I truly want to see him or not. I mean–I’m in love with him, and I have ever since I first laid eyes on the curly headed chocolate boy, but at the same time… He left me, five minutes after confessing he supposedly loved me back.

The instant I see his face, waiting for us at the top of the laundry chute, a bright and anxious smile plastered on his familiar face, I’m torn yet another way. Gods, I’m in love with him.

“Y/n!” he says, grabbing me into his arms the second he sees me. “I’m so sorry–I, are you alright?”

I’m a little flustered, and not quite sure how to reply. “Hi, Willy.”

He must notice my slight stiffness, how my voice is trying its best to emotionlessness. “Hey, I really am sorry. I should never have ever tried to leave. I regretted it instantly. I promise, I will never leave you ever again.”

I look up into his eyes. “You promise?” My voice cracks on the words.

His eyes soften immediately. “Yeah, my love, I promise.”

“Okay.” I decide to believe him, mostly because the thought of being without him again hurt more than the chance of being left again.

[beljar]

– Read About Palestine –

⚡️Fateful Triangle: The United States, Israel, and the Palestinians by Noam Chomsky

⚡️On Palestine By Noam Chomsky, Ilan Pappe and Frank Barat

⚡️The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine by Ilan Pappe

⚡️The Hundred Years' War on Palestine by Rashid Khalidi

⚡️The Way to the Spring Life and Death in Palestine by Ben Ehrenreich

⚡️The Question of Palestine by Edward Said

⚡️Except for Palestine The Limits of Progressive Politics by Marc Lamont Hill, Mitchell Plitnick

⚡️Palestine A Four Thousand Year History by Nur Masalha

⚡️Where the Line Is Drawn by Raja Shehadeh

Israeli-Palestinian Discourse // Quotes

Artworks: Palestine', c1930s by Donald Mcleish // Masada on the Dead Sea, Palestine, 1859 by Edward Lear // Jaffa, Recruiting of Turkish Soldiers in Palestine, 1888 by Gustave Bauernfeind // Gourds Grown as a Vine in an Arab Garden, Palestine, 19th Century // Hishams Palace, West Bank, Palestine by Vivienne Sharp // Palestine', c1930s by Donald Mcleish // Palestine, from Theatrum Orbis Terrarum, Antwerp, Plate, 1570 by Achille Cattaneo

[deadpresidents]

I'm always a fan of Caity Weaver's work, but this piece from the New York Times Magazine (these links are gift links from me past the NYT paywall to access the full article) about how the penny is not only a ridiculous zombie currency, but also a reflection of American dysfunction is one of the best articles I've read in a long time. It's really interesting, especially the parts about production, circulation, and the ultimate paralysis of throwing them in a coin jar for months or years before eventually taking them to a Coinstar machine.

Not only is the penny useless and more expensive to make than it is actually worth, but it's also relatively easy to eliminate. But it's not an imperative and eliminating it also wouldn't necessarily be something that the government or the citizens would actively profit from. And people don't like change -- and I don't mean "change" as in currency, but the act of doing something different or unusual from our accepted routines. So we just ignore them or discard them or hoard them needlessly, and the government keeps making billions of tons (literally) of them because they drop out of circulation. Nobody cares and nobody wants to have to do anything about it because America.

Here's a little excerpt of the piece from the New York Times Magazine, and again, just follow the links for a free gift pass behind the paywall for Caity's full article:

Americans accumulate pennies not because we desire them but because we are entitled to them. If we pay for something in cash with more than exact change, we expect to receive back the difference; if the difference ends in any number other than 0 or 5, we will receive at least one penny. We are entitled to pennies because they exist. But imagine a world where they didn't. Imagine a world where it was Canada. Many Americans will be surprised to learn that Canada eliminated its 1-cent coin more than a decade ago...Canada got rid of its penny in 2013 because it cost 1.6 cents to produce and had, like its American cousin, become essentially worthless. Here is the most important detail to understand: Canada eliminated only its physical coin, not the mathematical concept of 1 cent. Payment by credit card, debit card, mobile phone or check -- any kind of noncash transaction -- is calculated exactly as it was before the penny was abolished. If, after tax, a bill comes to, say, $20.11, a Canadian paying by credit card will be charged $20.11. A Canadian paying by cash can expect to pay $20.10. The final digit of Canadian cash transactions is rounded to the nearest nickel: 1 and 2, nearest to 0 nickels, round down to 0; 3 and 4 round up to a nickel -- 5; 6 and 7, also nearest to one nickel, round down -- 5 again; 8 and 9, nearest to 10 cents, round up. I admit that the thought I might be asked to pay, say $3.80 (cash) for something that, according to the laws of God and man, has been calculated to cost $3.79 (cash) is not only reflexively infuriating to me but a potential source of permanent confusion. The Canadian government mitigated one of those problems (no hope for the other) with an information campaign that included signs with simple charts dividing potential prices into two columns: "Round down" and "Round up." I asked Karl Littler from the Retail Council of Canada if there were still signs at cash registers explaining the rounding. "It's 10 years now, so even the most obtuse people have pretty much figured it out," he said, and laughed.

-- Caity Weaver: "America Must Free Itself from the Tyranny of the Penny", the New York Times Magazine

[folklorespring]

10 years ago Donetsk Airport was closed due to armed clashes with russian subversive groups.

Later the Ukrainian defenders defenders of Donetsk Airport will be called cyborgs, a reference to their invincibility and courage. This name was first used by unknown pro-russian militant while trying to explain why the units of the militia forces could not take up arms at the Donetsk airport, which is protected by several dozen Ukrainian servicemen.

On the night of May 26, 2014, a group of pro-russian forces partially occupied Donetsk airport. It took place as Donetsk city and that part of the wider region were already under russian occupation. The airport was the last Ukrainian stronghold in the city.

The defense of Donetsk airport lasted 242 days.

The ruins of the airport, 24 December 2014

[whiskerknittles]

When he’s your best friend and also your worst enemy and also the love of your life and