#I just finished In The Woods by Tana French

[l3irdl3rain]

I love whenever you post a couch pic and there's random dragon age books on the table (Was that Tevinter Nights I spotted?)

I keep World of Thedas on the coffee table all the time like it’s a coffee table book. And yeah, the other one on there is Tevinter Nights. I’ve actually read all the other Dragon Age novels. So just Tevinter Nights is left

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

favorite word?

haven:t thought about it;

finished castle rock season 2 today, it:s a really good show if you only consider it as episodes 1, 5, and the last twenty minutes of episode 10 (the finale)--annie wilkes is a fantastic character in it but she fits only loosely (and poorly) as a 'hero' for an action narrative (which is how the story turns when it becomes more focused on the jerusalem's lot story-beats); i still really adore the 'spirit' behind castle rock, and mostly just wish annie wilkes had been kept as a secondary antagonist instead of falling into a strange deuteragonist hero;

still just adore the character--it:s something about the puritanism with a bunch of low vulgarity underneath the skin like all the gunk had just been swept under a nice rug; it:s a trait in the book version, too: they share this stink that comes from a love of junkfoods and, whereas castle rock features her more outwardly cleans, in misery she:s a breath of sewage and all her characteristic foulness is included in her efforts to clean (the murder of the rats and how she discards their carcasses; the usage of the dirty rag she uses to mop waste also being used to treat paul)--she:s just this depressive hole punctured into reality from a human-shaped cookie cutter;

then i put dostoevsky on pause, because although i really like what he writes about, his narrative structure is sort-of a slog; not so-much because of density but so far the bulk of brothers karamazov are these comic back-and-forths where there are a few comic setpiece characters and then long monologues between two 'opposed' characters that fleshes out ideas--and the ideas are really insightful, but i wanted to read something else. so: i started wuthering heights and i disliked the first three chapters because i don:t enjoy how emily bronte writes (i think jane eyre is better written) but the following chapters i:ve been enjoying more and more; i want to hopefully start/finish a christina stead novel this month, too. i:m almost done with tana french's in the woods. i haven:t felt very well lately.

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

Tana French

Born in America but raised all over the world, the author Tana French has a wonderful ear for the rhythms of dialog generally, and the snark & lilt of Irish patter in particular. Trained as an actor, she went to college in Ireland and now makes her home in Dublin. Though known as “The First Lady of Irish Crime” her stories are only about crime on the surface. At their core they are explorations of different types of human relationships.

Author Tana French.

The first of her stories that I read was THE WITCH ELM, a standalone novel, unrelated to her other book series. At the time, I was on a Stephen King binge and read that he recommended this story in a review in the New York Times. This crime novel is not written from the viewpoint of a detective, but a victim. Beaten to a pulp by burglars in his own home, he awakes in hospital with a badly battered body and an equally bruised memory. 

Detectives appear in this story as alpha predators. Grinning wolves snapping at someone wounded by a traumatic crime. Eventually, it becomes two crimes, with the discovery of a body hidden within a tree in the garden of the family home where he recuperates. Partly inspired by the true story of a body discovered hidden in a tree, this novel also questions the role of of detectives themselves:

“I definitely think that it’s a good movement within the mystery genre, to acknowledge that the detective’s point of view is not the only one, and is not necessarily the crucial one, and is not necessarily the heroic one.“ -Tana French

The next Tana French books that I read were the DUBLIN MURDER SQUAD series, which are the novels that she is most famous for. Typically, these kinds of stories follow one detective, but instead this series follows an entire department. Thus, someone who is a secondary character in one novel will be the protagonist in another. With the exception of the first two novels (which are interconnected) they can be read in any order. 

The first book in this series was IN THE WOODS, Tana French’s award-winning debut novel from 2007. Told from the point of view of detective Rob Ryan, who becomes obsessed with a case that is related to a crime he survived as a child. This book is notable for its portrayal of the friendship between Rob and his detective partner Cassie. They are both damaged souls and kindred spirits, who understand each other like no-one else can. Will their relationship stay platonic (like Steed & Peel?) Or will they screw it up by, well, screwing (like Mulder & Scully?) You’ll have to read the book to find out.. 

“I come from an acting background. So for me, the natural thing is to see characters as three-dimensional as possible and to try to bring the reader to the point where they’re seeing this world through the characters’ fears and needs and biases and objectives. So that’s where I start from.”  -Tana French

THE LIKENESS was the second book, told by Rob’s partner, Cassie Maddox, and likewise involves a case of hidden identity and subterfuge. Julia & I just finished watching a TV adaptation of these first two books in this series (which combines the plots of the first two books in a way that I’m not yet sure if I liked).

"I have always been caught by the pull of the unremarkable, by the easily missed, infinitely nourishing beauty of the mundane." -Tana French

Often, there isn’t total clarity at the end of a Tana French novel. In the final scene, her detectives do not call everyone into the drawing room to melodramatically explain the mystery, step by step. The case at the centre of the story might have a few unanswered questions. Or, if there is a conclusion to the core mystery, there will be spiky, unresolved emotional issues around it.

The puzzles in her stories are more about the characters themselves than the crimes.. the effects of trauma and obsession. The how and why of people doing what they do. Tana French doesn’t plan her books in advance but writes straight ahead, then rewrites based on the characters she discovered as she creates. Her stories can be long winded and rambling at times, but at their best, they have surprising plots, with deep character writing, and insightful observations, rendered in absolutely glittering prose.

“I’m always worried because I don’t plan in advance—what if I dive in there and there’s no book and the threads never tie up? But fingers crossed. It’s always been okay so far.“ -Tana French

Her most recent series is the CAL HOOPER stories, about a Chicago policeman retiring to a cottage in rural Ireland, then becoming embroiled in the intrigues of this little community. Originally intended as a standalone alone story, instead it became a series with a third book on the way. These are perhaps my faves of any Tana French books that I’ve read so far. 

Many of her stories have at their centre a bunch of strangers forming a family of sorts. Sometimes it feels dysfunctional, obsessive, or cultish (THE LIKENESS, THE SECRET PLACE) but here I was rooting for Cal, and his neighbours Lena & Trey, to rise above the limitations of their character flaws & respective situations, and form a new family unit.

“There is this expectation that closure or a happy ending must involve reconciliation in some way with your blood family. And I think it’s ridiculous, because that’s not how the reality works. There are situations where the only closure is via division, via literally closing that door forever.” -Tana French

The audiobooks of THE SEARCHER & THE HUNTER are read by Roger Clark, an Irish American actor who can effortlessly shift between American and Irish accents. All of Tana French's audiobooks that I’ve listened to so far have been narrated by Irish actors. It is a pleasure to hear her beautiful prose with Irish narration, that captures the musical rhythms of Irish speech.

“The Irish wit and humor and quick banter—I know this is a cliché; I know that Ireland has a reputation for this, but it is true. It’s one of the major currencies. Here the ability to go quickfire back and forth with your friends shows everything from hierarchy to affection to conflict. Everything is filtered through this lens of humour.“ -Tana French

[soapdish290]

I initially read 'In The Woods' by Tana French in 2013, after seeing a recommendation basically saying that, after reading a Tana French novel, the reader "has to go and hug my dog for a long while", to paraphrase.

Re-reading it over a decade later I wasn't expecting to finish the book feeling just as desolate and affected as I did the first.

I know we here all love the phrase "doomed by the narrative" and let me tell you, there are so many characters here doomed in so many narratives. Sometimes the reader knows the details from minute one. Sometimes you can feel the doom, formless and cloying, and have to read on, aching and helpless, to watch it land.

French is an absolutely stunning writer. She fully leverages the first person perspective to create all the isolated inevitability the format can give. A sad, lonely, nostalgic autopsy of interwoven tragedy. Actually that's my blurb quote, fuck it.

I choose the word "nostalgia" very deliberately. It's a strangely butter feeling, to me. A sort of empty longing. French evokes it frequently and beautifully.

French writes slow and lets the characters and atmosphere breath and grow and move, in fits and starts, to the preordained (but, to the reader, still hidden!) conclusion.

I'm chucking a line break here because below this I'm going to spurt a bunch of spoiler shit I want to talk about and there's a (very faint) possibility that someone might read this and be pushed into reading a novel.

If you are planning to read, however, know this: The narrator is a bit of a prick. He's 100% written that way on purpose. He is what makes everything work.

Embarrassingly, when I first read the book as a 20 year old eejit, I saw Ryan as a likeable, sympathetic protagonist. I do not like who I was as a 20 year old. Luckily, inall subsequent readings, I recognised him as an extremely well drawn example of the casually misogynistic, genuinely thinks he's a good guy, thinks "political correctness has gone mad" prick everybody knew at least one of.

Honestly these days I think it's a testament to French's writing - he's very well drawn, entirely realistic, and completely vital to most of the twists. If he wasn't a fucking arsehole half of it wouldn't work.

One thing I noticed this time, is that it's heavily implied Ryan did to his flatmate Heather what he did to Cass, in part. When he fordt introduces Heather, he says he took the flat in part because he fancied her, but "we both worked out that Harry and Sally were never going to materialise" (page 103 of my kindle copy).

Later, when Heather works out that Ryan slept with and is now shutting out Cassie, Heather says "she doesn't deserve that, [...] any more than I did." (Page 491).

I'll admit this might be really obvious to everyone but my aro/ace arse, but it hit me like a truck this time around.

Another very tenuous thing I noticed and really fucking like is right at the end, when Ryan drunkenly calls Cassie and she leaves the line open and he hears her and Sam. The narrative is unsure whether this was accidental or deliberate. I choose to interpret Cassie's word choice in a way that leans deliberate. She tells Sam it was a wrong number. "He told me he loved me [...] but he turned out to be looking for Britney." (Page 587).

Now it's very likely I'm reading faaaar too much into this, but the phrasing matches Cassie and Ryan joking around about a hypothetical personal ad for Ryan, "male, six foot [...] seeks his very own Britney for..." (Page 188). I love this interpretation. Gives the scene such a delicate, devastating impact. If its a callback its so soft and intimate in its kindness or its cruelty.

There's literally an entire essay topic based on close reading the archaeological dig mirroring Ryan digging up his past, the respective value of one over the other, the effects on the present etc. On the way Ryan goes back at the end and the wood is almost gone, he connects to the people destroying the past, the arrowhead pendant he refuses, etc etc etc. The symbolism be RICH.

Fantastically written novel. I'm rambling.

[ebbarights]

so last night i finished the book i was reading and it was late but i still started tana french in the woods and woah what an opening that was! i love the backstory and i'm so curious to learn more and the way she's already been able to establish the relationship between rob and cassie is so delicious! i absolutely can't wait till i get to read more!! 🤩

i love that you like it too!!! i was worried i maybe oversold it lmao

yesss i feel like the prologue setting up the 80s knocknaree childhood + disappearance is such a good atmosphere setter!! and the rob cassie relationship is one of my favourite dynamics ever just. they're besties they get each other without words they're literally partners. i'm sooo excited to see what you think of rob and cassie throughout the story because obviously it's not the same the whole time so.

do you usually try to guess who the murderer is?? if so do you have theories already 👀 or is it too early hmm

[bookish-bi-mormon]

Just finished In the Woods by Tana French.

I am devastated.

Looks like Rob Ryan doesn't show up in any of the later books? Please please someone tells me he shows up in the later books. Someone tell me we find out what happened to his friends? Tell me that he and Cassie work things out and become friends again? I'm dying

[gnetophyte]

i just finished tana french’s “in the woods” and i can’t even begin to describe how much it pissed me off

[beakys-book-hoard]

Books I DNF'd and why

This will be broken up into multiple posts to cut down on the length.

I used to refuse to DNF a book. I would force myself to finish a book no matter what. It often left me not wanting to read anything else for a while or I would rapidly start reading another just to try and find some sort of enjoyment. One day I just decided (with the help of my bff being in her DNF Era to influence me) that there are too many books to read for me to be wasting time on one I wasn't enjoying.

My first DNF was back in late 2022.

I'm not sure what drew me into this book other than it being listed as a thriller. It's also listed as mystery.

In The Woods by Tana French.

"As dusk approaches a small Dublin suburb in the summer of 1984, mothers begin to call their children home. But on this warm evening, three children do not return from the dark and silent woods. When the police arrive, they find only one of the children. He is gripping a tree trunk in terror, wearing blood-filled sneakers and unable to recall a single detail of the previous hours.

Twenty years later, the found boy, Rob Ryan, is a detective on the Dublin Murder Squad and keeps his past a secret. But when a 12-year-old girl is found murdered in the same woods, he and Detective Cassie Maddox (his partner and closest friend) find themselves investigating a case chillingly similar to the previous unsolved mystery. Now, with only snippets of long-buried memories to guide him, Ryan has the chance to uncover both the mystery of the case before him and that of his own shadowy past.

A gorgeously written novel that marks the debut of an astonishing new voice in psychological suspense."

I remember not getting far into this book. It was a struggle to be interested in it from the start. Which you don't always have to connect with the story immediately, some stories don't pick up until half way in and that's okay. Not everything can be 100% from the start.

That being said, along with it being super slow, the characters weren't clicking for me either. I couldn't stand reading about a single character it followed. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to like them or not, but I definitely didn't. It didn't really take much for me to stop reading. I am willing to give it another chance, there were no hard no's for me in what I had already read. It simply could've been the wrong time for me to read it.

Which is the case for a couple books I DNF'd. Which leads me to DNF #2.

[imthefailedartist]

My 2023 Reading Stats

My goal was to read 12 books. I read 45 total!

I read mostly authors I'd never read before. I made a significant dent in my purchased TBR. I read 5 classics. I read 7 genres.

I checked out 3 books from my local library.

I did not finish 3 books. Les Liaisons Dangereuses, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, and Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy.

Reasons: LLD the two main characters were getting on my fucking nerves so bad. Valmont leave that woman ALONE! Also, the epistolary style does not make for active reading.

Lolita. I mean, take a wild guess.

AK. To many characters with the same name, I also signed up for one thing, but it's about a whole bunch of things.

I read the longest book I've ever read, Gone with the Wind. I thought it would take a year. Surprisingly, it took a month. December 22nd to January 22nd. I took four days off because the racism was getting on my nerves. I also sometimes just missed a day or two.

January

Loved: To Catch a Raven by Beverly Jenkins, The Wedding by Dorothy West, The Revenant by Michael Punke.

I refuse to say I loved this book, but I did enjoy reading it, a lot: Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

February

Loved: Their Eyes were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston, The Women of Brewster Place by Gloria Naylor, If There be Thorns by VC Andrews, Barbarian Alien by Ruby Dixon.

Read: My Best Friend's Exorcism by Gravy Hendrix

March

Loved: Priest by Sierra Simone, Roses are Red by James Patterson

Read depressingly: The Stranger by Albert Camus

April

Loved: A Hero Ain't Nothin' but a Sandwich by Alice Childress, Moby Dick by Herman Melville. Big Bad Wolf by James Patterson

Read: In the Woods by Tana French

May

Loved: Whatever Happened to Baby Jane by Henry Farrell

Liked: Animal Farm by George Orwell, Candice by Voltaire

Read: The Proposal by Jasmine Guillory, The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith

Hated: GOTH by Otsuichi. It was like reading an edgelords Wattpad writing.

This month was so Meh. Baby Jane came in at the end and saved it.

June

Loved: The Invisible Man by HG Wells, Seeds of Yesterday by VC Andrews

Liked: Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen, Devil in a Blue Dress by Walter Mosley, Violets are Blue by James Patterson

Read: The Body by Stephen King.

I have one Flowers in the Attic book left in looking into the other VC Andrews books, but none of them are calling me like Flowers. Maybe I'll read the one with the twins.

July

Loved: The War of the World's by H.G. Wells, An Offer from a Gentleman by Julia Quinn, London Bridges by James Patterson

August

Read: The Hallowe'en Party or A Haunting in Venice by Agatha Christie

Hated: The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris

September

Loved: I am Legend by Richard Matheson

Liked: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

October

Loved: Hannibal by Thomas Harris, Romancing Mister Bridgerton by Julia Quinn

Read: The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty

I have one Hannibal book left. What am I supposed to do for Halloween 2025?

November

Loved: An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon and The Song of Achilles by McAllen l Madeline Miller

Liked: The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

December

Loved: Difficult Women by Roxane Gay

Liked: Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Read: Marnie by Winston Graham.

The book I was looking forward to the most. It's one of my favorite movies. It was the book I just wanted to end. Also, I keep calling this author every name but his own. Winston Granton, William Granston, Graham Wilson.

[iamthekarmapolice]

book asks!! 3, 5, 6, 10, 12, 17

3. What were your top five books of the year?

The Mirror and the Light - Hilary Mantel (re-read but still)

The Likeness - Tana French (i was virtually pacing up and down on here the day i finished it)

The Three Of Us - Ore Agbaje-Williams (it's incredibly short but hilarious and real)

The Three - Sarah Lotz (the ending freaked me out so much, i couldn't be alone when i finished it)

Six Of Crows - Leigh Bardugo (recaptured the fun and joy of reading fantasy when i was in school)

5. What genre did you read the most of?

I tend to read a bit of almost everything, but i think thanks to the fact that i read tana french's entire bibliography this year, it's probably mystery/fiction

6. Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

wanted to read Birnam Wood by Elinor Catton, but keep procrastinating

10. What was your favorite new release of the year?

The Three of Us by Ore Agbaje-Williams. No hesitation about it. It's basically an evening in the life of an unnamed Nigerian-British woman whose caught between her kind of traditional husband and her single, independent best friend who obviously do not get along. i'm not nigerian, but our cultures are similar enough that a lot of the themes around conformity versus rebellion really resonated. but more than anything i loved this book for its tone. it was funny and vicious and all the characters are unlikable and unsympathetic, exactly the way i'd want it to be.

12. Any books that disappointed you?

I keep waiting for Beth O'Leary to write something as great as The Flatshare again, but this year I read Mr No Show and wasn't just disappointing like her post-Flatshare books, it was actively bad. like i was genuinely angry when i finished it.

Land Of Milk and Honey by C Pam Zhang had a super interesting premise, but i think it ended up being about too many things without doing justice to any of its themes, and kind of felt a bit shallow

17. Did any books surprise you with how good they were?

The Six Of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo! I've been really out of the loop with YA/Fantasy over the past few years and the few times I dipped my toe back in, i didn't like what i read. But these books gripped me immediately and i basically couldn't put them down until i was finished.

I didn't expect to enjoy Tana French's Dublin Murder Squad books as much as I did but it was another case of me devouring one of those books every weekend. I think she's so good at writing characters and character dynamics, she could pivot to any genre she wanted and it would be just excellent

[magpiefngrl]

3 books and a fic: November

11 books in November: it's been a good reading month. Here are my Nov recs: 3 books A Spindle Splintered by Alix E Harrow (novella, portal fantasy, fairytale-esque) A few years ago someone recced a short story by a new author, which was available for free on the journal's website. I hastened to read it and was left gobsmacked. I read short fiction quite a lot, but I'm often disappointed; it's so hard to create a story of impact in that length. But Harrow's story had it all: it was clever and poignant and just marvellous--and, lo and behold, I had an author crush. I'm afraid to say that Harrow's 2 novels let me down somewhat (I've read them both in the past few months but they haven't appeared in these lists). They're gorgeously written, don't get me wrong; beautiful prose. Pacing, dialogue, descriptions: they're competently done. But there is that overcompensation that I've been noticing in white USian authors lately, the desire to show they're, for lack of a better term, woke, and so parts of Harrow's 2 novels read like manifestos. I don't want to be banged over the head by a message. I have no patience for lack of subtlety and nuance, I'm afraid. This novella, though. A different story. It involves a girl suffering from a congenital condition that will see her soon dead, stumbling over the world of Sleeping Beauty. It's got great heroines, female friendship, wonderful complex side characters, and a strong voice. When I finished it, I was like "This is the Harrow that I've been waiting for." In the Woods by Tana French (detective mystery, literary) WOW. I never really thought whodunits could be literary, but here comes Tana French to prove me wrong. This is such a stunning novel. Bleak as fuck, but stunning. Divisive for murder mystery fans: don't expect a neat resolution and a triumphant detective at the end (but we do find out whodunit). It's more of a character study, an exploration of memory and trauma dressed up as a murder mystery. I have to say that I ended up disliking the narrator quite a lot as the story went on, but the prose is sublime, just the kind of writing I adore. I'm reading French's second novel now and it's equally spell-binding.  A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske (historical fantasy m/m romance mystery) This is the debut novel of one of our own, an AO3 writer who's written in quite a few fandoms (in CaPri most prominently). I've been following Markse for years and remember when she was talking about having an original story out. Now she's got a novel, with Tor no less. Anyway, my verdict: it was brilliant. Set in the Edwardian England, this novel brings together a magician and someone who stumbles upon that world accidentally right when a bunch of bad guys are looking for something and are willing to kill for it. The writing is lovely, the connection between the characters develops organically, the sex scenes (yes, there's smut!) are hot, and the world feels fleshed out and real. A really solid debut. Also, this was my 99th read of the year, according to Goodreads! Go me! one fic oops It's at the end of the month when I write these posts that I realise I've read almost no fanfic, again. This has been the case for a few months now. There seem to be no end to the books I want to read; my TBR list is straining. I've got a few longfics that have been begging for my attention, though, so hopefully I'll indulge during the Christmas hols, and then come rec ten fics lol

[unhingedwomenapologist]

my top 3 books of 2021

look I know I'm late or whatever but I literally just made this blog. anyway these are my fav books I read in 2021.

1. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

I know this is the basic one but I really liked it when I read it. Something about stewing in your depression by stewing in someone else's ... not a great idea but it is nice in the moment.

2. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - Anne Bronte

This book is lowkey crazy like this woman's drama ... it was so interesting. This was hard to put down at times but the beginning was kind of slow tbh.

3. In The Woods - Tana French

This is the only recent book in this list but it was assigned for my female detective fiction class. This was actually the best one and I didn't finish it during the course but I read it over the summer. The plot builds well and the characters' stories are really interesting.

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

Hello. This is not a question I hope you don't mind I just wanna thank you for your art and your posts. I find your art extremely beautiful and your art has helped me through tough times. Thank you so much for your artistic creations and I hope you're having a good day. God bless you.

hey dirak-sea,

i don:t mind at all when people send me non-questions (though there:s a gamble sometimes where i:ll just read them and privately appreciate them and then delete them); thank you very much for the kind words--i really mean it each time i say it to someone who says they:ve enjoyed my writing or my art: it:s something i appreciate immensely to hear because it:s more often appreciation goes by quietly and my relationship to posting either art/writing is, too, very quiet--there:s not much expectation that it will be loved, and that makes it a surprise that it might be loved.

art, and blogging, is really tricky for me; my desire to output took a huge plummet when i forced myself to actively keep to myself for (just only about) a month and just that month of relative alienation taught me some (extremely boring) skills to self-soothe and appreciate depressions as they come, and as they go; and, without being as much of a leaky faucet for depressions, the desire to make art had been swept up with the bad habit of {loud helplessness} i'd been so reliant. and all of that is to say: that betterment i thought i learned had really just been some thin plaster over a rot of my character, as i:m lately finding myself incredibly depressed and in need to make art, and fearful of it as another contact-point for invisible hooks to be rent with; and all it leaves me with is this itch in my heart of a calm fear i must appreciate as an active chain or love keeping me in prayer, for the depression must be seen with awe and appreciation as a christian must see satan as part of god and christ (the dead process church would love that); to feel colorful moods and experiences needed for autofiction and dumb artworks; for myself though, i am mostly just recently and softly sad and appreciative of any kindness come my way--alone, and weak, i am trying to make paranoid drawings of blue cars that do nothing but be idol of a paranoia and breed to me more discomfitures of my own character to a simple'd paranoid skulked upon by blue and yet there, like a polyp in this world came from a hook piercing a fold in my brain that stood too tall, a blue car was in my drive holding a man in a blue shirt--and then all i can think of is making blue car drawings, and byproduct of my thought is all my thoughts are controlled by the blue car like a brain subjected to passions from music;

i finished In The Woods by Tana French (audiobook) yesterday, and it was a pleasant-mid-no-strong-feelings 3/5 listen; started Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn (audiobook) this morning (seems alright after an hour); loving Wuthering Heights more and more--really i just hate the initial narrator the story is seen through, he:s a dweeby little poof;

take care; your humble servant

[docholligay]

Love Tana French so much. All of them are different, but all give you great prose and a lot to think about. I’ve never been able to rank them, although the Witch Elm stayed in my thoughts for literal weeks so it might have to go first. Did you like The Likeness or In the Woods more?

It’s tough to say! Right now I would say The Likeness but I literally just finished it, and so it’s really on my mind. I’d have to sit with it awhile to make a good determination of it. 

SPOILERS FOR THE LIKENESS FOLLOW

OH my god, would a large subsection of the internet lose their fucking MINDS about this, though, because in many ways I think the book says that te pie in the sky ideal that I see touted so much online about “Just living in a house with all my friends, and we share everything, and it’s beautiful :)” is naïve as fuck. That all it takes is one person to destroy it from the inside, and it’s likely to happen. That even families of choice can have toxic dynamics, and deep secrets, and selfish motives. I was ENTHRALLED, but oh my god can I see people losing their shit. 

One thing that made me roll my eyes utterly and forever was that Cassie ended up pregnant with Rob’s baby. I know they were trying to create a link between her and Lexie and all that, showing that they were not quite the twins they might have been, but it just annoyed the hell out of me, and after the book had done, in my view, such a good job of making it the mourning process of losing a friend. 

Though it does make me think--Does French essentially believe that people can’t be friends without wanting to bone? I mean at the end you have Lexie and Rafe, Rafe and Justin, and Abby wanting Daniel, and all of this contributes to the fallout of the group. I don’t know how I feel about that! Not great, I guess! I think you can destroy a group of friends without sex pretty easily. I gave her a pass on it in In The Woods because I thought it was so well done, but sitting here thinking on it, I suppose it’s more of a pattern of behavior and that doesn’t sit great with me. 

I always have so many pages marked when I read her books--I don’t have it with me right now, so I can’t pull the quotes exactly, but I was fascinated by the threat of “Take what you want and pay for it” and the themes of sacrifice--there’s some quote that’s along the lines of “Choose an altar that’s worth it and something you can stand losing”  I thought that was particularly good against everything happening in both this book and the last. I mean I love it as concept and idea ANYWAY, but pulled into the larger storyline I thought it was excellent. 

Also interesting to me, and I’d have to reread to make sure of this, but in some ways I think Cassie tries to make what happened to them all Rob’s fault. I think this is human, but not fair. ANd maybe that was her perception of it, that it was just HIM who wanted to sleep with HER, and she can’t really take her place in the tango that ruined everything. 

 I was looking on goodreads and I cannot believe that some people describe her as ‘wordy’ or said that they skipped some things about like, how the grass feels under you at a picnic, and like...what the fuck are you reading FOR??? If you want something in a bullet point, go to a goddamn presentation, god it annoyed me so much to hear, LISTEN KIDS I WILL SHOW YOU WORDY HERE’S SOME VICTOR GODDAMN HUGO. ANyway I guess this is why adults read so much YA, because a description would kill them. 

[theawkwardterrier]

The Shops on Shield Street

Steggy Week 2k20, day 4 Prompt: AUs and crossover

Summary: Running a small business is already hard enough without someone trying to sabotage things.

AO3 link here. Thanks to @steggyfanevents​ for organizing!

The first time Peggy visits Steve’s shop is the day he opens.

Working just down the street, she’s spent the past few months watching the renovations at what had been most recently been a short-lived scented candle business. When the new signs and awnings had gone up naming it as Shield Street Books, she’d been further intrigued; she’s seen various stores come and go through the space, but a bookshop is new. Now, on her lunch break, she takes the opportunity to go visit.

She looks over the front windows first: the right-hand side is filled with buzzy new releases and bestsellers for adults, the left with books for younger readers. The windows themselves are painted with a colorful but subtle border of books on the right, while the left side features lovely illustrations of Wild Things marauding across the bottom, a mockingjay pin hidden along the side, a Little Prince floating among the stars at the top, and a web reading “Some Pig” in the corner. The chalk sign reads “Grand opening” on one side and “Ask us about our events!” on the other.

Peggy is cautiously optimistic as she steps in, a cheerful little bell jingling as she does. The space isn’t cavernous but it’s large enough, and the high ceilings, big front windows, light wood flooring and shelves, and friendly gray-green walls make it seem more open. The checkout is easily visible, a chalkboard wall above it featuring a listing of upcoming book club meetings, a coffee and cookies social series, and a reading by a local poet (Peggy supposes that you have to be a bit more established to start getting better-known names).

The front area has all the typical souvenirs everyone around here sells - magnets, mugs, pens, postcards - along with fancier or more specifically bookish things like scarves, tote bags, and book weights which seem to be attracting some good attention. A few people are looking at the cookbooks and coffee table books lining the walls and stacked on tables nearby, and she can see browsers in the labeled aisles spanning out into the main area of the store: mystery, biography and memoir, young adult, politics, each with an appropriate, particularly-styled illustration. A sign pointing downstairs advertises a used book area, as well as a gallery and event space. She breathes in the scent of fresh wood and words on paper, officially impressed.

She is examining a table just before the aisles which is covered with a display of staff favorites when a voice behind her says, “I love that one.”

Turning with the copy of My Favorite Thing Is Monsters still in hand, she encounters the man who until now she’s only seen at a distance, occasionally ducking in and out of the store while it was under construction. He’s tall and blond, with broad shoulders beneath his heather gray T-shirt, plain except for a small, oddly-rendered sketch of a pale turquoise bird in side profile and showing one large eye. She tries not to let on how distracted she is by the hint of a darkly-inked tattoo peeking out from the bottom of his sleeve; his blue eyes are watching her clearly from behind a pair of thick-framed glasses.

“I’m sorry?” she asks politely, trying not to let on that she’s slightly lost the thread of how things started.

“That’s a great book. I love it,” he offers, shrugging awkward shoulders although his smile is still lovely and genuine. “Although it’s not too surprising seeing as I’m most of the staff here, so the table’s pretty much stacked with books I love.”

“You must be the new owner then,” Peggy says, putting out a hand. “Congratulations. I’m Peggy Carter. I run Top Shelf Tea and Coffee up the street.”

“Steve Rogers, good to meet you." He shakes with her, then gestures to the book she’s still holding in her other hand. “Are you browsing for yourself, or just over here to check out the new neighbors?”

“I think I can do both quite handily,” she says, smiling back at him. “Though I don’t typically read graphic novels. Perhaps you can recommend something else?”

Nothing precisely shifts about his posture, but she suddenly has the sense that he’s more settled on his heels, focused even more intently on her. “What do you typically read?”

“Very little, of late,” she admits, making a bit of a face. “I used to read quite a bit of mystery - Gothic, classics, noir, Agatha Christie, Tana French, and my favorites were those where you get suspense and a good story but a good sentence too. But with everything on my plate, I’m lucky if I can get through a half chapter before I go to sleep.”

“Sure.” He crosses his arms, which does nice things for his muscles, as well as showing off an extra sneaking bit of his tattoo. Watching him think, she has the sudden feeling that she’s in very good hands. And, when he rings up a collection of P.D. James short stories and one originally published in Swedish called An Elderly Lady Is Up to No Good (“With your schedule, it might be easier to enjoy a little section over a night or two rather than trying to force yourself to make it through a hefty novel”) along with a copy of Dorothy B. Hughes’s In a Lonely Place that he’d tracked down in the used book section (“It’s not long, and it’s dark, smart, psychological noir”) it seems she’s right.

Peggy is not behind the counter when Steve shows up at her shop the next day, but she comes out from the back when she recognizes his voice ordering the house blend coffee.

“I had expected you to have more of an opinion than that,” she teases as she walks through from the kitchen with a tray of fresh scones to load into the display case and finds him waiting to pick up his drink. He’s come in past the commuter crush and before the lunch rush, but even with Peggy’s staff working quickly and efficiently as usual there’s enough of a wait to guarantee a moment to chat. “I certainly anticipated your drink of choice would be something with minimal fuss, but I would have guessed at something with a bit more imagination at least.”

He laughs. “I’m just trying to get the lay of the land here, and the house blend is how I know what kind of joint you’re running here.” Rose places a cup labeled “Steve!” on the counter, smiling at him before she twirls away again. He picks it up, takes in the steam rising through the lid, smiling as he does. “It smells good. But when you name your place ‘Top Shelf,’ you have some pretty high expectations to meet,” he warns, smile still flickering around his mouth.

“Don’t worry.” She leans over the counter toward him. “The expectations are exactly where I want them.”

His eyes widen after the first sip and he takes a second before he’s even swallowed. “You were right. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“I know,” she says plainly. “And my true expertise is with the tea. Try the Irish blend next time you’re here, or a cinnamon rooibos latte if you’re feeling adventurous.”

His eyes smile over the top of the cup and he takes another sip. “I guess I’ll have to keep coming back with so much to try.”

“I suppose you will,” she says, trying to sound friendly but casual when she adds, “And I’ve finished two of the stories in the P.D. James, so I might have to come back for more recommendations soon.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he tells her. This time, even with the clamor of people waiting behind him or skirting huffily around to pick up drinks, he isn’t smiling, he’s grinning.

By the time Steve drops in one afternoon eight months later, he is a very familiar sight. Daniel wraps one of the enormous seasonal apple-cinnamon muffins as soon as he walks through the door then waits for him to order a drink - the staff knows that while Steve certainly has favorites on the drinks menu, he changes between them often enough to keep things interesting. (He always orders a muffin, though: apple-cinnamon in autumn, blueberry the rest of the year.)

Usually they don’t have time for lengthy chats during the day considering the crowds at Top Shelf and the customers and part-timers waiting for Steve to return over at Shield Street, but today when Peggy comes out to say a brief hello, she finds Steve sitting at one of the tables. The small tilt of his head as their eyes meet is enough for her to slide the proposal she’s reading about switching dairy providers into her pocket and walk over to sit with him. The little two-seater he’s picked is away from the large front windows, and she seats herself in the comfortable leather armchair across from him with a feeling of relative privacy.

“Is something wrong?” she asks. Steve’s doing well enough as far as she knows: Shield Street seems often to buzz with foot traffic and they’ve been promoting their online store, there is a solid slate of events and programs including the coffee and cookies socials for which he sources the refreshments from Top Shelf, there was a lovely recent write-up in the local paper, and he’s even been able to hire a full time employee other than himself. Still, she knows entirely too well that the life of a small business owner can be somewhat exacting and stressful. Small mistakes in ordering stock or taking on a bit too much can be enormously costly, and even when you’ve done everything correctly, factors outside your control can conspire against you without much of anything to serve as protection. Steve’s tense expression mirrors the way she sometimes felt in the first few years after she’d opened - and still does today, if she’s being honest.

He sips his tea slowly, and she can tell it’s not because he’s finally remembering her advice about allowing the flavors to settle.

“There was a guy in at the store this afternoon,” he says finally. “Stuck around a long time, looked in every corner, and then didn’t buy anything. But I overheard him on the phone when I was coming over here.” He looks up at her, eyes somewhere between hard and stricken. “Peggy, I think he’s from Hydra.”

The common wisdom is that the largest threat to small businesses are superstores and online giants, the franchises of the world which can spring up on every corner or be available at a moment’s notice, backed by large pools of money that leave them free to take risks and undercut other vendors, offering brand recognition to customers across large areas without being tied by communal or ethical bonds to any of the places they land.

Hydra, a business conglomerate few had actually heard of, took the pushback against big chains and used that for its own ends. Rather than focusing on any single industry, or even establishing Hydra brand all-in-one stores, their model was to sweep in to buy various local businesses and keep their original names, or to establish seemingly innocuous storefronts without any stated connection to Hydra. But while people thought they were shopping locally and supporting their own neighbors, helping to maintain healthy competition and a diversity of business, mass-produced goods would slowly replace the higher quality ones, workplace regulations would be flouted while employees were scared into silence by the power of the corporate owners, and money would flow out of communities and into Hydra’s distant and ever-deepening pockets. Steve and Peggy kept their finger on the pulse of the small business world, and they had read stories online, often later hastily retracted or swiftly vanished, stories of small towns and cities across the country where, within a few years, whole streets full of businesses that seemed to be independently-run and community-owned were actually just cheery facades under one corporate umbrella.

And now Hydra was here. Peggy thought about the shops between her business and Steve’s: the florist, the hardware store, the brewpub, the rare family-owned pharmacy, the ice cream parlor which is part of a beloved local chain, the independent movie theater, the places on other streets in their town which sold toys and art supplies and comics and shoes.

Behind her, the door opens. A squat, balding man enters, grandfatherly dapper with a suit, a bow tie, round glasses, all undercut by the coldness in his gaze. He looks around at what Peggy has built - the scattered tables and cozily diverse seating options from armchairs to stools to window seats, the carefully hung plants, the racks of magazines and stacks of available books which Steve has selected for her, the displays of art by students from the nearby universities, her talented staff, and of course her carefully curated menu - and writes something brief in a small notebook. He steps up to the counter to order.

“That’s him,” she says to Steve, barely a question. “That’s who you saw.” He nods, looking down into his mug, fingers tight around the solid pottery. Peggy remembers picking out these cups, sorting through dozens of listings until she found the exact ones she wanted: an entire range of colors, big enough for a good serving size and for wrapping hands around, but not awkward to sip at.

“If it is them,” she says, knuckles clenching beneath the table, “we won’t let them win.”

Steve looks up at her; the smile on his face is wan, not up to the usual brightness she looks forward to, but it’s the first one she’s seen at all from him today. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

The man approaches Steve first, introducing himself as Arnim Zola. He’s done his homework, knows about the finances of the shop and about Steve’s personal finances as well, from the loans he’s taken out to the fact that his mother had barely anything to leave him when she died.

“You’re a smart businessman, Mr. Rogers, I have seen that quite well. Though you might have good growth now, who knows what tomorrow might bring? Selling now and taking the money which comes with the offer, that is the smart business decision.”

And Steve, for whom courtesy is not second nature but first, has trouble turning him down with a “no thank you,” rather than a “piss off.”

Zola seems to hear it anyway, but he overcomes the spasm of anger with a smile. “I will be happy to speak to you later, if anything happens to change your mind. As I said, there is quite a lot of unreliability in business ownership.”

A pipe bursts in the back of the store that night, even though they’d all been replaced as part of the renovation. A good chunk of inventory gets soaked. Peggy walks past the next morning to find Steve putting the less damaged material out on a rack to sell at a steep discount. He tells her what happened with barely concealed fury in his throat. They hadn’t heard about Hydra deliberately driving owners to sell, but neither of them is exactly surprised.

Peggy goes to work for the next few days with her head full of rage and incipient plans. When Zola comes to request a meeting and make his case later in the week, she turns him down so sweetly that it takes a minute for him to understand that it had even happened.

She’s never had Steve over to her little flat above Stewart’s Sandwich Spot, but after a few days of working across the empty tables of Top Shelf or cramming into Steve’s office after they’ve locked up for the night, she invites him to join her.

“I had concerns about pests and odors when I first came,” she says as they climb the narrow back stairs single-file, “but I’ll have lived here five years this January and haven’t had a problem with either. In fact, waking up to the scent of their fresh bread every day is quite the bonus.”

“Plus you can pick up dinner on your way in.” Steve’s voice behind her is teasing, though accurate, as he’s currently holding the bag with the food they’d bought three minutes ago: a Tipsy Texan for her and his Peter Paul Ruben along with several orders of the fries which Peggy promises are outstanding.

She’s right. The agreed-upon brief break for sandwiches spirals into experimentation as to which of the various dipping options is the best for the french fries, then into conversation about places they’ve traveled and the best foods they ate there. Peggy backpacked a bit after university, and still tries to take a bit of vacation when she can. Steve, she finds out for the first time, was in the army and was deployed several times.

“The guys I went over with, we all came home,” he says quietly. They’ve gotten into the wine at this point. “We all got these together.” He stretches down the collar of his shirt enough for her to see some very nice muscles as well as a tattoo: concentric red and white circles with a blue center marked by a star. The outermost circle reads “107th Regiment.”

“What is the one on your arm?” she asks before she can stop herself. He chuckles and lifts his sleeve where she can now see the words clearly inked in black around his bicep: “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit,” ended by an ellipses trailing from black to gray to white.

“My mom used to read Tolkien out loud at bedtime,” he explains. “And I still think about the way that one sentence opened up a whole world, a whole life, for me.”

She pours a touch more into her glass, shifting her feet up onto the sofa beside herself. “You’ve always loved reading, then?”

“Yeah. Back when I was growing up, if I wasn’t really sick, I was just getting through being sick or getting started being sick again. All that time in bed, I needed a lot to read; I was always going through the big stack of books next to my bed, or listening to some audiobook on my old Discman. When I was doing okay, I used to go talk to the librarians, and I was around so much that eventually I started volunteering there.”

He chews through one of the last remaining fries, cold now. “When I got discharged, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself. All I could think of was how good books made me feel, how important they were for me, how I could help put them in the hands of others. And then one day I was walking by, saw the For Sale sign on the space, noticed that the street sign said Shield, and just knew.” He shrugs. “There are small business loans aimed at vets, and my friend Bucky went into construction after we came back, helped me put the place together the way I wanted it.”

“And all that starting with one little hobbit,” she says with a smile. She pushes her hair back, feeling flushed and a bit young.

He leans against the back of the couch. “How about you? What made you decide to open Top Shelf?”

“Spite,” she answers promptly, making him laugh. “It’s entirely true. I wish I could tell you some sweet story about my grandmother bringing me to a tea shop every Saturday back when I was a girl, but I wouldn’t lie to you. The fact of it is that my mother accepted my coming to university in the States, but as I was finishing my degree, she became quite adamant about my doing graduate work to enter into law or finance. I had little interest in either, and didn’t want simply to put in the investment because she was forcing me.

“At the same time, I had a part-time job at a coffee shop where the owner was the worst sort of boss: constantly critical without any actual suggestions for improvement or true understanding of daily operations, unwilling to make necessary changes or updates, over- and under-scheduling the staff at a whim. Finally I told him that in one day I could have the place running better than he ever could, at which point he started fuming that doing his job was harder than I could imagine, and fired me. By that evening, when my mother called once more to have a ‘little chat about my future,’ I told her that I had started a business plan and would be opening a tea and coffee shop as soon as possible.”

“How did she take it?” His voice is softer. Somehow they’ve moved closer together on the sofa. With his arm draped along the back, his fingertips graze the gauzy sleeve of her blouse.

“She shouted at me, hung up, and refused to speak to me for several days, but that just gave me time to become more confident and knowledgeable by the time she called next.”

“And you succeeded.”

“I did.” She stops herself from leaning into him the way that she wants to. She might get a bright rush hearing his voice at the counter during the day, might drop by his shop for a new book even while she already has several still waiting at home, might relish this extra time to discover the thoughtful, generous, opinionated details of him of which she’s seen captivating hints over the past months, but they have a purpose here. She clears her throat, steadies herself. “I succeeded, and I mean to keep what I’ve made.”

It’s after midnight when Steve finally goes home. She tries to tell herself that it’s a shame that they didn’t really have a chance to work on their strategy, but when it means that they come back to her house the next night, and go to his the night after, she can’t be truly upset.

As a business owner and a town resident of over half a decade, Peggy has been to a council meeting or two in her time. But she prepares for tonight with special attention, leaving the shop early enough to take a longer than usual shower. She chooses a recently purchased top - navy with silver and pale blue detailing, a flattering silhouette, and a modest V-neck - and adds makeup with more than her usual care. She finishes with her usual scarlet lip and, taking in the finished product, nods firmly, picks up her bag, and goes to meet Steve.

He arrives at nearly the same time, and they take seats together in the center of the town hall meeting room.

“A good turnout,” Peggy says quietly, glancing around. “And look who’s here as well.”

Zola sits in the back of the room, quietly taking things in. She suspects that keeping abreast of town news is a part of his job. Hopefully he will be earning his salary tonight.

Most of the agenda is spent on the typical dull dealings: a proposal to change the language on parking citations is taken up and passed, followed by a bit of a tussle over the budget, then it’s on to a rousing discussion about recent changes to state alcohol legislation and the impact on local restaurants. At least the recognition ceremony for two teenagers who rescued a man drowning in the nearby lake is touching and breaks the monotony.

“And finally,” Chester Phillips, the head of the council, grumbles. He’s clearly very much past ready to adjourn. “We have an item put forward by Peggy Carter and Steve Rogers. An item very recently put forward,” he adds, shooting a glance at Peggy. The official deadline for getting onto the agenda is 24 hours in advance, but Peggy knows that the secretary, Miriam Fry, usually prints and posts things a bit early. While their proposal came in just under the deadline, the agenda had already been publicized; Peggy wanted as much of an element of surprise as she could muster to avoid sabotage.

“Good evening.” Peggy starts them off. “As many of you know, I own Top Shelf Tea and Coffee on Shield Street. I’ve been so pleased by the welcome the town has given to myself and my shop over the past several years, and I wanted to come forward tonight to raise awareness of something which has been recently affecting our local business community.”

She knows her points well after running through them with Steve for the last few nights. Without referencing notes, she smoothly and carefully explains Hydra’s background and the way their business model has caused trouble for other communities. The articles she references, entered conscientiously into the record, might be smaller pieces, but they are from reputable and reliable news outlets; Bruce Banner, the reference librarian, had helped them put together the resources with that in mind.

“Mr. Rogers and myself have received offers to purchase our businesses. We would also request that that council hear from others who have also been under recent pressure to sell.” Peggy gestures over her shoulder, where a good-sized part of the assembled crowd is standing, ready to come forward.

“Before we get to that, is there an actual proposal attached to all of this?” Alexander Pierce asks. He’s a popular, long-serving council member, distinguished and seemingly considerate, but there’s a strange hint of ice in his voice, in the blue-gray of his eyes, that makes Peggy suspect who exactly put the town on Hydra’s radar and why they seemed so certain that they would be able to work with impunity.

“Our proposal is a council resolution simply acknowledging the remarks made here today,” Steve says, the words not loud but quite firm. “It isn’t the council’s responsibility or within their authority to prevent private sales between willing parties, but we want to make certain that everyone in this town knows the coercive measures Hydra has taken in the past and will almost certainly take in the future in order to gain and maintain control of local businesses.”

He takes a breath, pushing up his glasses reflexively before he speaks. “I opened my store more recently than Ms. Carter did hers, but I’ve also felt lucky to have been able to support and be supported by this community over the past months. Moving here and opening my business has given me something I never thought I would find.” His gaze moves, for just a moment, from the council in front of them, to Peggy, who is watching from beside him. Their eyes meet so quickly she nearly wonders whether it even happened before he turns back to conclude, “I have no intention of giving up my business. And we want everyone to know that we are willing to continue fighting for however long we have to.”

“Now I—” Pierce started, but Nick Fury, a council member who rarely speaks and who Peggy knows always gets his coffee first thing in the morning to avoid running into anyone trying to discuss council issues, leans forward so his microphone picks up his words clearly.

“I’d actually like to hear from our fellow citizens, Alex,” he says, and nods for the first speaker to go ahead.

The comments last for a long while. Some people speak only briefly about being approached by Zola or other Hydra representatives, bombarded with testimonials from business owners from other towns who sold to Hydra in the past. Others have lengthy (and well documented, Peggy made sure of that) stories of escalating problems and harassment: health or building code inspectors being called and finding minor or suddenly appearing violations, delayed shipments from previously reliable vendors, spontaneous problems with heating or cooling systems.

Someone from the local paper always covers council meetings, and she’s sitting in the front row scribbling away for what will undoubtedly be a far different article than usual. But news travels fast, and as the hours march onward, more and more of their fellow townspeople squeeze into the meeting room to hear things for themselves.

Steve and Peggy expected it, but as the last of the business owners moves aside, they trade a glance seeing Arnim Zola step up to the podium.

“In my capacity as a representative of Hydra, I would like to officially demand that minutes and records of this meeting be restricted pending a defamation lawsuit which the corporation will be bringing,” he says, eyes flashing behind his glasses. The words are so practiced that Peggy feels her suspicions about the fight against Hydra in other places nearly confirmed.

“Those are a matter of public record,” Mrs. Fry says sternly. Peggy smiles. They don’t always see eye to eye, but she knew that Miriam could be relied upon to protect the integrity of the process.

Fury adds laconically, “And it will be a little difficult to put the genie back in the bottle.” He looks over everyone’s heads to the back of the room, and raises his voice to ask, “Live stream still running smoothly, Stark?”

Tony Stark, the teenaged son of the municipal head of IT, barely looks up from his phone as he gives a thumbs up. “Directly on the town website, YouTube, and Twitter, plus a few backup sites I’ve set up just in case. And I’ve been live-tweeting the whole time. First council meeting that’s ever been even close to interesting enough for me to even want to do that.” He leans back in his chair, feet up on the table and fingers typing rapidly.

The calculation is clear across Zola’s face. Leaning into the aisle so he can hear her, Peggy says quietly, “If you still manage to convince someone to sell, there’s little we can do to stop you. But you can see the town turning against the idea of you, and any of the usual tricks you try to pull will only make it worse. I doubt you’d ever be able to make a success of things here. I would cut your losses now, Mr. Zola. Everyone knows who and what you are. You can’t hide in the shadows anymore.”

Zola leaves before the resolution passes. Although they keep an eye out for him over the next weeks, they don’t see a sign of him again.

They have the other business owners over for a drink down in the event space at Steve’s shop. It was already late when the meeting finally adjourned, and it is even later once the last person - Thor, who owns the Norseman brewpub and is still laughing heartily at a story told by Luis from the electronics repair store - closes the door behind him.

“I wanted to tell Sam to take the morning off,” Steve says as they tidy things up, “but I have the feeling we’ll be even busier than usual tomorrow.”

Peggy smiles, collecting the empty bottles in a paper bag for recycling. “I think he’ll forgive you when he sees it reflected in his paycheck.”

Steve glances over the used book shelves, making sure they’re all orderly, switching a few around to keep things alphabetized. “If this keeps up, maybe I can have Nat and Wanda full time soon.” With one last glance at the shelf, he goes over and drops tiredly into one of the chairs that they have yet to fold and put away. There are plenty of other places to sit, but Peggy comes and turns a chair so she’s facing him. Their knees are nearly touching.

“I hadn’t realized quite how tense I was until the weight was removed tonight,” she says softly, just for him. “And while I know that we should stay alert and that complacency works against us, it will be such a delight to go into the shop tomorrow without feeling as if ruin was coming up on the horizon.”

“You deserve that,” Steve says, and somewhere over their work together, they’ve become comfortable enough that he already has her hand in his and she didn’t even notice until just now. “And even if they regroup fast, we’ll have a day or two to catch our breath before we start putting out resources for other communities dealing with Hydra.”

That familiar determination is back in his voice, and she realizes that so much of him is familiar now. She knows that his glasses are the last hint of the poor health which plagued him growing up, has seen pictures of his mother and recognizes where he inherited his fair hair and strong features. She has seen his tattoos and knows what he wanted to memorialize on his skin.

Looking him over, she sees that sometime after the meeting he has changed into a T-shirt that she recognizes.

“That was what you were wearing the day we met,” she says. “What made you choose it for your opening?”

He glances down. “It’s the Pigeon, from the Mo Willems series. Popular picture books, ” he explains. “I know that I can be a little intimidating for the kids, and I wanted something that would be familiar and friendly, something we could talk about together so they could get to know me and wouldn’t be as nervous.”

It’s such a simple answer, so unsurprising and considerate and right, so Steve. She frees her fingers from his so she can hold his face in her hands.

“You’re a very dear man,” she informs him, and presses her mouth to his.

Quite a while later, as Steve finally turns the lights off in his shop, finally put to rights, he asks, “Are you free again tomorrow night? I’d like to take you out somewhere that doesn’t serve sandwiches.”

“I won’t mention it at Stewart’s.” She tucks herself under his arm as they step into the cool of the street and he turns to lock up.

He laughs. “They don’t have to worry much. I’m sure we’ll be back.”

“I’m certain we will, though perhaps Thai for tomorrow,” she says thoughtfully as they walk. “But come to the shop sometime earlier, will you?” A grin is growing on her face. “I have some ideas I want to discuss about unseating Mr. Pierce at the next election that I’m not sure are proper date conversation.”

“My definition of date conversation is whatever you want to talk about,” he says, his voice never anything but honest. “But sure, I’ll come by tomorrow. I can’t get through the day without your latest matcha concoction, and I want to hear what you have planned for Pierce.” His grin is growing to match hers. “Whatever it is, I wouldn’t bet against us.”

[segretecose]

@trueplainhearts 💞 tagged me to share my 2021 reading list so here it is

first off i need to force myself to finish the books i started in 2020 and never finished (they’re not the problem, i am) i.e. the virgin suicides by jeffrey eugenides and the passion according to g.h. by clarice lispector

after that i need to find something to read in italian at all costs because i haven’t in so long it’s embarrassing, i’m thinking lessico famigliare by natalia ginzburg and something by dacia maraini

i then need to read the last installment of the la sombra del viento series (the first three installment of which i’ve recently reread but in spanish) aka el laberinto de los espíritus by carlos ruiz zafón

i also have a little life by hanya yanagihara on my to read list! it’s currently staring at me from my bedside table

i really want to reread the aeneid too!!

and then idk i have a few lighter thriller/mystery/crime type of books that i like to read in between for example in the woods by tana french (which i know absolutely nothing about except that it’s set in dublin which i love and that it’s got murder which i also love) and the dante club by matthew pearl (which is probably going to be terrible but i was dantebaited + it was on sale)

i have no idea who to tag idk who’s already done this/who’s already been tagged so i’ll just leave it open if any of my followers wants to do this then consider yourself tagged