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#mark mansfield
dk-thrive · 1 year
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Who are your favorite novelists and why?
I love Stendhal above all because only in him are individual moral tension, historical tension, life force a single thing, a linear novelistic tension. I love Pushkin because he is clarity, irony, and seriousness. I love Hemingway because he is matter-of-fact, understated, will to happiness, sadness. I love Stevenson because he seems to fly. I love Chekhov because he doesn’t go farther than where he’s going. I love Conrad because he navigates the abyss and doesn’t sink into it. I love Tolstoy because at times I seem to be about to understand how he does it and then I don’t. I love Manzoni because until a little while ago I hated him. I love Chesterton because he wanted to be the Catholic Voltaire and I wanted to be the Communist Chesterton. I love Flaubert because after him it’s unthinkable to do what he did. I love the Poe of “The Gold Bug.” I love the Twain of Huckleberry Finn. I love the Kipling of The Jungle Books. I love Nievo because I’ve reread him many times with as much pleasure as the first time. I love Jane Austen because I never read her but I’m glad she exists. I love Gogol because he distorts with clarity, meanness, and moderation. I love Dostoyevsky because he distorts with consistency, fury, and lack of moderation. I love Balzac because he’s a visionary. I love Kafka because he’s a realist. I love Maupassant because he’s superficial. I love Mansfield because she’s intelligent. I love Fitzgerald because he’s unsatisfied. I love Radiguet because we’ll never be young again. I love Svevo because we have to grow old. I love . . .
—  Italo Calvino, from “Answers to Nine Questions on the Novel” in “The Written World and the Unwritten World: Essays. Translated by Ann Goldstein. (Mariner Books Classics, January 17, 2023) 
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The Iowa state Supreme Court has overruled a 2018 decision it previously made that deemed abortion rights protected under the state constitution.
The reason for the reversal, which was announced on Friday, appears to only have happened because four justices, nominated by anti-abortion Gov. Kim Reynolds (R), were placed on the state’s highest bench over the past five years. Six of the seven Justices overall were appointed by Republicans.
The ruling does not make abortion illegal in Iowa, as federal standards and other laws in the state remain in place. But it does remove the previously held recognition from the court that abortion is a fundamental right under the state constitution.
The ruling will likely allow for Republican lawmakers in Iowa to have the ability to place greater restrictions on the procedure in the near future, should the federal Supreme Court overturn Roe v. Wade later this summer.
“We don’t know yet what [Republicans will] propose, but previously-blocked laws [by state courts] have included a 72-hour waiting period and a ‘fetal heartbeat’ bill,” Des Moines Register politics reporter Katie Akin observed.
The 5-2 ruling examined a case involving a 24-hour waiting period to have an abortion, a law that Republicans passed in 2020. A lower court deemed that restriction unconstitutional. In reversing its 2018 ruling, the state Supreme Court sends the case back to the lower court to reconsider, based on the new precedent that says the state constitution doesn’t recognize and protect abortion rights.
Justice Edward Mansfield, writing the opinion for the court, said he and his like-minded colleagues “[rejected] the proposition that there is a fundamental right to an abortion in Iowa’s Constitution subjecting abortion regulation to strict scrutiny.” However, Mansfield said that the court would not produce any new guidelines for the time being, noting that the federal Supreme Court was set to rule on the issue itself.
Chief Justice Susan Christensen, who was also appointed by Gov. Reynolds, dissented from the ruling, stating that the majority overturned the court’s previous precedent at the first opportunity it had. The court was doing so too quickly, ignoring the standard of stare decisis — the idea of respecting previous precedents established by courts.
“Out of respect for stare decisis, I cannot join the majority’s decision to overrule” the previous precedent, Christensen wrote in her opinion.
The Chief Justice also recognized that the only reason for the reversal of the previous ruling was a change in its ideology. The ruling on Friday would make people question the legitimacy of the court, she added.
“This rather sudden change in a significant portion of our court’s composition is exactly the sort of situation that challenges so many of the values that stare decisis promotes concerning stability in the law, judicial restraint, the public’s faith in the judiciary, and the legitimacy of judicial review,” Christensen said.
“This is not to say that we may never overrule precedent that is clearly incorrect because we are worried about the public’s perception of our decision in relation to the change in our court’s makeup. … But we must only use this power when there is a ‘special justification’ over and above the belief ‘that the precedent was wrongly decided,’” Christensen wrote, quoting previous rulings that established how courts were meant to treat matters relating to stare decisis.
Critics blasted the court’s decision to overturn a precedent and the manner in which it was done.
“This decision was made possible by Gov. Kim Reynolds’ addition of Republican justices to the court — nothing more, nothing less,” wrote Slate senior writer Mark Joseph Stern.
“Today’s ruling is a step backwards for Iowa,” Democratic state Rep. Jennifer Konfrst said. “Like a large majority of Iowans, I believe in reproductive freedom. I will continue to fight like hell to ensure every family has access to safe, legal abortion.”
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Photo from Henry Normal's FB - possibly the date Zig interviewed band... but around that time for sure.
29 January 1986
At Chesterfield Arts Centre we were interviewed by a local youth called Zig [Mark Webber] who wrote a fanzine called Cosmic Pig. Pulp were genuinely weird no two ways about it, but I'm not sure we've ever been weirder than that night. Magnus was off his head on something, possibly fly agaric mushrooms; I was barking at Manners’ dodgy mates, who were trying to nick things with the thousand-yard stare of a Miners’ Strike veteran; and the seemingly sound-limbed singer kept sitting down in a wheelchair. It freaked poor old Zig out, but in a good way, because he came to all the concerts after that. [Russell Senior, Freak Out the Squares, 2015]
Cosmic Pig fanzine, written by Mark Webber (Zig), 1986:
PULP the next "big thing"?
If there is some truth behind all this talk that there will be another big change in the perception of popular music in 1986. Then the only band who I think will do it is PULP - the most useful thing to come out of Sheffield since Stainless Steel.
RUSSELL - Russell Senior, MAGNUS - Magnus Doyle, PETER - Peter Mansell, CANDIDA - Candida Doyle
How did Pulp start?
RUSSELL Jarvis, the lead singer (and the only member of the band who has been there since the start), started it at school, about five years ago. The current line-up dates from when we were doing a surreal play in and around Sheffield about two years ago.
Who thought of the name?
RUSSELL - Jarvis, I think. If you look in the dictionary, it means a kind of fiction in the 30's, very trashy and with gaudy colours, but at the same time, it was quite deep. I think that's a lot like us, we're trashy and gaudy and unsofisticated.
What do you think of Chesterfield?
RUSSELL - We played our worst two gigs here. The last one was at Gotham, that was pretty terrible, and before that, Adam & Eves. People were trying to bodypop to us - it didn't work.
Is Jarvis really the leader, on and off stage?
MAGNUS - Well he's been in Pulp from the start so I suppose it does rotate around him, but I don't call him a leader.
PETER - I don't look at it like that.
Who are you influenced by?
MAGNUS - We are original.
RUSSELL - I think I can honestly say that Pulp as a band isn't influenced by anyone. The only band I think we all like is Sham 69.
CANDIDA - Oh no.
RUSSELL - Anyone who's heard us knows that we're nothing like them. I prefer classical music. Some of the others like punk, the Fall, Jarvis likes ballads and film themes.
At what point did you stop being a Sheffield band, in order to go national?
RUSSELL - Really, this past year has been full of touring and trying to lose that label.
What kind of person comes to see your concerts?
MAGNUS - I don't know, I rarely meet them.
RUSSELL - The people who don't come to see us are like the hip scene. We're not a hip band in Sheff. I guess we attract your average interesting youth on the street, not trendies.
What do you think of Sheffield, opportunity wise?
MAGNUS - It's alright.
PETER - There's plenty of places to play.
Would you rather be somewhere like London?
PETER - No, it's too big.
Are you content in being at your present status?
RUSSELL - Yes, but if 50 people come to see us, I'd rather there be 500 and if we sell 5 records, I'd rather sell 50 and I'd shun anyone who doesn't think that.
Did your last EP sell well?
RUSSELL - It did O.K. , considering that it didn't receive airplay. It got more-or-less banned everywhere because of its lyrics. The A-side got taken off Radio Hallam halfway through. If the next one isn't banned, we reckon it'll do well.
What will the next A-side be?
RUSSELL - Probably 'Mark Of The Devil' (or maybe the excellent 'Dogs Are Everywhere'.) It will be out in March / April.
Do you think that it will sell better?
RUSSELL - It can't help but do so, 'Little Girl' wasn't danceable, they played it in the disco's and people kept tripping up. It was too risque to play on the radio, but not shocking enough to get mothers writing in saying we're corrupting the youth of Britain. It was banned but not hyped.
Can you see yourselves getting to number one?
RUSSELL - Realistically, I don't think it's gonna happen.
If you were asked, would you appear on T.O.T.P.?
CANDIDA - I wouldn't, I don't like it.
Rest - Yeah, why not?
CANDIDA - I'd have to then!
Source: PulpWiki
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trevlad-sounds · 14 days
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On this day in 2022. This mix happened.
Iguana Moonlight-VI
Bernard Fevre-impressionism
The Heartwood Institute-Striding Edge
Natureboy Flako-Crystals
Tom Elliot-Image Maker
Correlations-Recall
Craven Faults-Deipkier
Pye Corner Audio-Exhumed
Sam Prekop-The New Last
Basil Kirchin, John Coleman-Assignment K 3
Freedom Power-Metropolis Notte
Maston-Evening
Monoton, Konrad Becker-Ein Wort
Folclore Impressionista-The Illusion of Freedom
THE DANDELION SET & ALAN MOORE-Cosmic Variations
Domenique Dumont-Quasi Quasi
The Twelve Hour Foundation-Through Violet Perspex/5-6-7-Go!
The Heartwood Institute-Stock Ghyll Force
The Twelve Hour Foundation-Hundreds, Tens & Units
Keith Mansfield-Staying Power
Folclore Impressionista-Shadow and Dark
B. Kaufman-Jingle 1
Cate Brooks-Econoparc
The Twelve Hour Foundation-Elastic Limit
Mark Barrott-Baby Come Home
Correlations-Alonso
Mo Foster-Times Square
The Twelve Hour Foundation-Coquillages
Menahan Street Band-Midnight Morning
Listening Center-T-Group
Café Kaput-Cells In Action
A. Frydman & M. Cannone-Sylphides
Roger Roger-Sounds Industrial N°2
Jonathan Snipes-Flashing Lights in Unison
Correlations-Mount Hood
Jonathan Fitoussi / Clemens Hourrière-Vague
V. Geminiani-Ophis Le Serpentaire
Stellarays-Trish's Toy Rocket
The Heartwood Institute-Honister Pass/ The Druids Circle
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themalhambird · 11 months
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Thinking about how Jane Austen's six novels taken together (in writing order, not publication order) become an increasingly scathing criticism of social class, i.e:
Northanger Abbey: Individual members of the gentry (General Tilney, chiefly) come in for some criticism, but mostly on a personal level: General Tilney is a grasping, tyrannical father to be sure but we hear little (though we might easily infer) of what he is like as the resident landholder. The final crisis of the novel, General Tilney's refusal to sanction Henry and Catherine's marriage, is resolved by Eleanor's marriage to a Viscount.
Sense and Sensibility: The "correctness" and "elegance" of the fashionable members of society- the Dashwoods, Robert Ferras, Lady Middleton- are negatively contrasted to the warmness and frankness of Mrs Jennings- whose kind-heartedness makes her more attractive, in spite of her lower-class origins and perceived vulgarity, than Fanny, Lady Middleton or Mrs Ferras (snr).
Pride and Prejudice: The aristocratic Lady Catherine de Bourgh is an interfearing busy body whose title and money only excuse her officiousness and rudeness. Darcy's pride in his superior situation to the Bennets leads him to act wrongly with regard to Bingley and Jane. Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, in trade, are more respectable- certainly better parental figures- than the gentleman Mr Bennet (and Mrs Bennet too). At the same time - Darcy's strengths are displayed in his undertakings as the resident landholder of the Pemberly estates- he supports the poor, and his situation allows him to shield the more vulnerable when he his spurred to act (Georgiana, to a less successful extent Lydia). Wickham's circumstances - debt, etc- could easily be read as the consequences of his wanting to step out of his place- his desire to be the oldest, or at least the second, son of a Mr Darcy- rather than what he 'is'- the son of Mr. Darcy's steward
Mansfield Park: Hey. HEY. look at the shitshow of a baronetcy. Lady Bertram is functionally useless. Sir Thomas is such a bad father that his daughters marry idiots just to get away from him. Also, having money can't give you intelligence or a personality. Most of "fashionable society" are actually miserable and mercenary and also probably immoralistic. The Church is clouded by corruption and isn't actively benefiting the local parish the way it should. The whole thing is underpinned by slavery, and the hardworking Price Children are ultimatley more deserving than the flighty Bertram ones. THAT BEING SAID: the portrait of Mr. Price is hardly better than the one of Sir Thomas, and Mansfield Park does stabilise- indeed, begins grows stronger with the reformation of its heir, and the implication that Fanny and Edmund go on to have children of their own. There is less of a quarrel with establishment, and more of a quarrel with the people who fill it.
Emma: "Gentility is inherent one can sense it in a person-" no you can't lmao shut up. There is literally no inherent difference marking out a gentleman's daughter and a farmer's daughter. Emma's snobbery as to class leaves her, at various times, both isolated and into some *serious* missteps. Emma and Frank Churchill both have a tendency to treat others as playthings, as their money allows them to do so.
Persuasion: The peerage/nobility are patently ridiculous throw them out in favour of [relative] meritocracy and hard workers. Sure, the resident landowners are supposed to be of benefit to those beneath them but they're not, actually, they take all of the privileges and fulfil non of the responsibilities and are pretty much uniformly selfish and our heroine Casts Them Off.
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cherry-blossomtea · 5 months
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I love Horn as a character so much because of how completely totally clinically insane she is but she’s so good at hiding it that you’d never know unless you thought to look. And I think a lot of people overlook that in favor of “angry lady who explodes things” which is absolutely an accurate characterization but like.
Rita could have absolutely been a nepo baby, she’s like a countess or some shit, the Skamandroses are old Victorian money but in the fashion of her family name said “Nah fuck that” and joined the army until she earned her place into an elite squadron as a commander no less. Beloved and trusted by her platoon whom she gave everything she possibly had and it was her life. I think for her, being a soldier was what she could do. She was drawn to the structure of it, even if she didn’t necessarily think so highly of the institution. She wanted to fight and so she went to war teeth bared.
She adheres strictly to discipline and rules and order and she finds comfort in the routine and orderly. If something doesn’t fit into the boxes she knows she will make it fit or discard it. Her values are nigh unshakeable, but it is…interesting to see what she actually values. Protecting those who cannot defend themselves, fighting for the people she knows and loves, desperately trying to rein in the chaos she stumbles through as Victoria eats itself alive. I think growing up as the daughter of a count gave her that insight—Victoria, the empire, isn’t something worth defending. She would have been privy to the political upheaval and grown up alongside the coup that overthrew the Steam Knights and the monarchy. So of course she doesn’t fight for king or country. But fighting to maintain order, to halt corruption, to save the lives of individuals? That she can do. “For the greater good” is anathema to the paradigm that guides her life.
Of course, she has lost control of herself. Bagpipe mentions her interrogating a serial bomber and being so violent she left marks the imprisonment device (likely similar to the ones we see in Mansfield). Her files mention her family’s originium arts grant them combat prowess, at the the expense of their own selves, and it’s something she’s tapped into again and again.
And then the fucking County Hillock incident happened.
In the span of 24 hours she loses her friends one by one and is betrayed by her superiors. So now you’re looking at this kamikazee of a woman who is fueled by rage and vengeance alone because they took everything else that kept her going—her squadron, her friends, her faith in the Victorian army, her faith in her ideals. The only thing left to her was screaming in fury as she literally destroyed her own body in an attempt to get revenge. If she had her way, she would have gone down in that fight and been another name on that memorial. She sent Bagpipe away so that at least there was something left because god knew it wasn’t about to be her. At what point was it even about honor or some bullshit everyone else around her seemed to have abandoned? It wasn’t about deservedness or justice or righteousness. It was just ‘the army and Dublinn killed her squadmates Mandragora killed Cello’ and someone was going to pay.
She truly didn’t expect to survive and to her it was probably crueler that she did.
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pazzesco · 7 months
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~ Helen Keller ~
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Helen Keller (colorized)
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Miss Helen Keller - Portrait US Library of Congress
Helen Keller was an author, lecturer, suffragists and crusader for the handicapped. Born in Tuscumbia, Alabama, She lost her sight and hearing at the age of nineteen months to an illness now believed to have been scarlet fever. Five years later, on the advice of Alexander Graham Bell, her parents applied to the Perkins Institute for the Blind in Boston for a teacher, and from that school hired Anne Mansfield Sullivan.
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Keller (left) with Anne Sullivan vacationing on Cape Cod in July 1888
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Through Sullivan’s extraordinary instruction, the little girl learned to understand and communicate with the world around her. She went on to acquire an excellent education and to become an important influence on the treatment of the blind and deaf.
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Helen Keller in 1899 with lifelong companion and teacher Anne Sullivan. Photo taken by Alexander Graham Bell at his School of Vocal Physiology and Mechanics of Speech.
Her unprecedented accomplishments in overcoming her disabilities made her a celebrity at an early age; at twelve she published an autobiographical sketch in the Youth’s Companion, and during her junior year at Radcliffe, she produced her first book, The Story of My Life, still in print in over fifty languages.
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Helen Keller — Groundbreaking Girls
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Painting of Keller's colorized portrait by Wayne Pascall
Her friendship with Mark Twain
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"Helen Keller, Miss Sullivan, Mark Twain and Laurence Hutton."
“From that day until his death we were friends,” Keller recalled later. She was already a fan of his work and thrilled to his deep voice and his many hand gestures, which she followed with her own fingertips. She wrote of him:
"He entered into my limited world with enthusiasm just as he might have explored Mars. Blindness was an adventure that kindled his curiosity. He treated me not as a freak, but as a handicapped woman seeking a way to circumvent extraordinary difficulties. There was something of divine apprehension in this rare naturalness towards those who differ from others in external circumstances."
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Helen Keller with Mark Twain - Twain came to Keller’s defense, after reading in her book about a plagiarism scandal that occurred in 1892 when, at only twelve years old, she was accused of lifting her short story “The Frost King” from Margaret Canby’s “Frost Fairies.” Though a tribunal acquitted Keller of the charges, the incident still pissed off Twain. The letter is attached to the photo above
Letters between Mark Twain and Helen Keller.
Though Helen hailed from a respectable Southern family, 19th-century America was flummoxed by the prospect of teaching a deaf-blind girl to talk, read, and learn. Helen’s tutor and governess, Annie Sullivan, fought for her admission to various schools that offered special education. But the cost of educating someone like Helen was high. Clemens wrote to a rich friend on her behalf:
"It won’t do for America to allow this marvelous child to retire from her studies because of poverty. If she can go on with them she will make a fame that will endure in history for centuries. Along her special illness she is the most extraordinary product of all the ages…lay siege to your husband & get him to interest himself and Messrs. John D. & William Rockefeller & the other Standard Oil chiefs in Helen’s case; get them to subscribe an annual aggregate of six or seven hundred or a thousand dollars- & agree to continue this for three or four years, until she has completed her college course…."
Thanks to his intervention, the support of his friend Henry Rogers and Standard Oil, Helen was able to complete her education and graduate cum laude from Harvard’s Radcliffe College. Clemens and Keller remained friends for the rest of his life. They shared an interest in radical politics and a love for life despite their different temperaments. Helen, an avowed optimist, often made fun of Clemens for his avowed pessimism, telling him she didn’t believe a word of his sardonic jokes. As for Clemens, Chambliss writes that he felt she was one of the most important historical figures of all time, “the most wondrous person of her sex that has existed on this earth since Joan of Arc.”
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Keller, Sullivan, Twain, & Sullivan’s husband John Macy above at Twain’s home
We also have Twain—not playwright William Gibson—to thank for the “miracle worker” title given to Keller’s teacher, Anne Sullivan. As a tribute to Sullivan for her tireless work with Keller, he presented her with a postcard that read, “To Mrs. John Sullivan Macy with warm regard & with limitless admiration of the wonders she has performed as a ‘miracle-worker.’” In his 1903 letter to Keller, he called Sullivan “your other half… for it took the pair of you to make complete and perfect whole.”
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Twain was especially impressed by Keller’s autobiography, writing to her, “I am charmed with your book—enchanted.” (See his endorsement in a 1903 advertisement, above.)
Keller & Clemens also shared a love of dogs
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Helen Keller with her dog Sir Thomas.
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Helen Keller seated on a window bench with an arm around her dog Sieglinde.
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Helen Keller seated on a bench indoors, possibly in the photographer's studio wth a dog seated on the ground beside her.
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Helen Keller seated on a slatted bench in front of a Farm House in 1935 with her dogs Dileas, on her lap, Maida beside her & Golden.
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Helen Keller teaching a girl sign language.
Widely honored throughout the world and invited to the White House by every U.S. president from Grover Cleveland to Lyndon B. Johnson, Keller altered the world’s perception of the capacities of the handicapped. More than any act in her long life, her courage, intelligence, and dedication combined to make her a symbol of the triumph of the human spirit over adversity.
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Helen Keller - 1880-1968
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Helen Keller Archive
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Round Two Round Up!
Round Two is officially over and so we must say so long to another 16 of our men!
It's been a bad week for the milita as we say goodbye to Denny! Colonel Brandon (2008) and our last two Wickhams!
Mr Darcy (P&P&Z) may have been able to fight off zombies but he couldn't fight off Mr Bingley and he's not the only Darcy to go. After a well fought battle, custody of Laurence Olivier will be returned to hotvintagepoll as Mr Knightley (2020) defeats him to go through along with two of his counterparts who all escape the fate of Mark Strong's Mr Knightley!
Mr Knightley (1996) isn't the only Highbury native to leave us as we lose Robert Martin (1996) and Frank Churchill (1996) heads for London to get a much needed haircut.
Round Two has also seen the last of our Mansfield men go with Henry Crawford (1999), William Price (2007) and Edmund Bertram (2007) all defeated. Mansfield Park is in good company as Love and Friendship (2016) and Sanditon (2019) also lose their only representatives in Reginald DeCourcy and Sidney Parker.
And of course a special mention to our closest poll that was 49.1% agony, 50.9% hope as Captain Wentworth (2007) , unlike his friend Captain Harville (2007), just about survives rough seas to see off Mr Palmer (1995).
Once Again Farewell Gentlemen...
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Round Three begins tomorrow!! Send in any propaganda you want included on the polls' main post - they will all need it - you have been warned!!
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dearabsolutelynoone · 2 years
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Period Films I Adore
Nicholas Nickleby (2002)
Quote: “I feel you know what it's like to be without happiness, but do you know what it's like to be afraid of it? To see the world as so conniving, you cannot take pleasure in the appearance of something good because you suspect it is only a painted drop behind which other troubles lie.”
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Belle (2013)
Quote: "My greatest misfortune would be to marry into a family who would carry me as their shame, as I have been required to carry my own mother - her apparent crime to be born negro, and mine to be the evidence. Since I wish to deny her no more than I wish to deny myself, you will pardon me for wanting a husband who feels forgiveness of my bloodline is both unnecessary and without grace."
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Far from the Madding Crowd (2015)
Quote: "It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in a language chiefly made by men to express theirs.”
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Jane Eyre (1996)
Quote: “I love you as my own flesh. I beg of you to marry me. Say "Edward, give me my name." Say "Edward, I will marry you."”
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Sense and Sensibility (1995)
Quote: “Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no! It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.”
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Tuck Everlasting (2002)
Quote: “If there's one thing I've learned about people, it's that many will do anything, anything not to die. And they'll do anything to keep from living their life.”
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Redeeming Love (2022)
Quote: “You got to have plans, Angel. You got to hope for something more in this world outside of this paradise.”
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Becoming Jane (2007)
Quote: “If you wish to practice the art of fiction, to be the equal of a masculine author, experience is vital. Your horizons must be…widened.”
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Mansfield Park (1999)
Quote: “Life seems nothing more than a quick succession of busy nothings.”
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The Age of Innocence (1993)
Quote: “Newland. You couldn't be happy if it meant being cruel. If we act any other way I'll be making you act against what I love in you most. And I can't go back to that way of thinking. Don't you see? I can't love you unless I give you up.”
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bethanydelleman · 5 months
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After her affair with Henry Crawford, Maria is sent to “another country”. Which country do you think it was? The problem with her being sent to anywhere in continental Europe is that Jane Austen was writing Mansfield Mark during the Napeoleonic Wars, and war in Europe had been ongoing for nearly 25 years at this point (though it was soon to end). Is Austen anticipating the end of the wars? Is she ignoring them (in the same way that contemporary writers during the COVID pandemic would not necessarily depict their characters as living during the pandemic)? Or is she thinking of Maria being somewhere else?
I am pretty darn sure Maria is still in the United Kingdom (whatever that was at the time), here is the relevant quote:
It ended in Mrs. Norris’s resolving to quit Mansfield and devote herself to her unfortunate Maria, and in an establishment being formed for them in another country, remote and private, where, shut up together with little society, on one side no affection, on the other no judgment, it may be reasonably supposed that their tempers became their mutual punishment. (Ch 57)
The meaning of "country" is more vague in Austen than it is today. According to Etymoline:
mid-13c., "(one's) native land;" c. 1300, "any geographic area," sometimes with implications of political organization, from Old French contree, cuntrede "region, district, country,"... Also from c. 1300 as "area surrounding a walled city or town; the open country." By early 16c. the word was applied mostly to rural areas, as opposed to towns and cities. Meaning "inhabitants of a country, the people" is from c. 1300.
I'm pretty certain that what this sentence means is another "county" or shire, other than Northamptonshire, within England.
Some examples of Austen using country. Bingley is asked if he'll stay in the country, which likely means stay in a rural area/Hertfordshire, while Mr. Bennet calls his daughters the silliest in the country, which may mean England or Hertfordshire.
This quote seems modern use, but it's actually using country to talk about the neighbourhood:
You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.
And the use here of "country" as coming into the rural areas:
Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.
Anyway, I think Maria is in England, just in a shire or county far from home.
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thefudge · 6 months
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Drfudge, I remember you have some book recs posts but I can't find any, so I'd like to ask you what are your all time fave books, if it's okay. Thank you <3
you should check out my "books", and "book rec" tags on my blogs, but here is an updated list of some of my favorites (including essays and short stories):
what a carve up, by jonathan coe
excellent women, by barbara pym
restoration, by rose tremain
invitation to the waltz, by rosamond lehmann
journal d'hirondelle, by amelie nothomb
oblomov, by ivan goncharov
kiss me first, by lottie moggach
the idiot & demons, by dostoevsky
the idiot, by elif batuman
revolutionary road, by richard yates
the girl in the flammable skirt, by aimee bender
out of the woods, by chris offutt
hygiene de l'assassin, by amelie nothomb
memoirs of a dutiful daughter, by simone de beauvoir
chevengur, by andrei platonov
the master and margarita, by bulgakov
the corrections, by jonathan franzen
hamlet & king lear by shakespeare
richard iii & henry vi, part 1, by shakespeare
a midsummer night's dream, the taming of the shrew & as you like it by shakespeare
i capture the castle, by dodie smith
point counter point, by aldous huxley
arcadia, by tom stoppard
stoner, by john williams
eugene onegin, by pushkin
paradise lost & samson agonistes, by john milton
the age of innocence, by edith wharton
katherine mansfield's diaries & short stories
axel's castle, by edmund wilson
the dead, by james joyce
the heat of the day, by elizabeth bowen
pride and prejudice, by jane austen
franny and zooey, by salinger
the stranger, by albert camus
seduction and betrayal, by elizabeth hardwick
the beguiled, by cullinan thomas
girl with a pearl earring, by tracy chevalier
the wine of solitude, by irene nemirovsky
dark entries, by robert aickman
capitalist realism, by mark fisher
the blizzard, by vladimir sorokin
karate chop, dorothe nors
go, went, gone, by jenny erpenbeck
the blind firman, by ismail kadare
actress, by anne enright
genius and ink, by virginia woolf
real life, by brandon taylor
the world of yesterday, by stefan zweig
doce cuentos peregrinos, by gabriel garcia marquez
selected stories by anton chekhov
stories of your life, by ted chiang
ornament and silence, by kennedy fraser
the accompanist, by nina berberova
there are many others, including some romanian faves that i won't mention in this list, but this should give you a good overview!
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Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 5
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Chapter 5: Love Me At The Ungodly Hour
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Fandom: Night Hunter
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC 
Word count: 4.2K
Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.
Chapter Summary: Kamaria and Walter take things to the next level in their relationship.
Chapter warnings: oral sex (m receiving), Dom!Walter, dacryphilia, Daddy kink, non-barrier contraception (no condom usage), choking, creampie, breeding kink, spanking
A/N: Another time jump in this chapter, from Monday morning transitions to Friday evening, skipping Tuesday-Thursday. Does everyone know that ‘trousers’ are like a pair of jeans, and ‘pants’ is the same as underwear? I went English, I figured Walter wouldn’t say boxer-briefs. And yes I imagine he is a boxer-briefs kind of guy. Don’t @ me. Also, this chapter marks about two weeks of time since Chapter 1. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
Cross-posted on AO3
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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Walter’s POV
Monday Morning
The first thing I did on Monday morning, after kissing Kamaria on her temple and walking her to her desk, was to hunt down Rachel. I promised Kamaria that I would be speaking with Rachel about her attitude. There was no point in waiting until she offended my girlfriend again. And yes, we are officially titled. After a weekend of pampering her and treating her like the Princess she is, I asked her to be my girlfriend yesterday afternoon. She answered with a little yelp, jumping into my lap. She addressed me as ‘Boyfriend’ the rest of the day.
As her boyfriend, I believe it’s my job to make sure she stays happy. And if something displeases her, I’ll kill it with fire. Or, the next best thing. 
I make it to the Cybercrimes office and spot Rachel speaking with her team. I steady my breath, clear my throat, and walk up to her. “Can I speak to you for a moment?” I ask, interrupting her morning meeting.
“Walter, I’m kind of in the middle of something, can it wait?” she tries to blow me off and any other day, I might have let her. But this isn’t any other day.
“Actually, it can’t wait. But I can make it quick for you,” I assure her, not requesting for the team to give us privacy and continuing, “You’re to keep your distance from Kamaria. Whatever your problem with her is, sort it out yourself. She’s my girlfriend and I’ll do anything to make her happy. And that includes informing my ex that we’ll be going to Human Resources if you so much as look her way or mine for that matter outside of strictly professional business. I hope I’ve made myself crystal clear, I won’t be repeating myself.”
With that, I leave her, mouth agape in surprise. I pray, for her sake, that was the only time we need to have that conversation. She is smart enough to know I’m serious, I refuse to believe otherwise. I can’t afford to think of whether or not her feelings are hurt, if she was embarrassed, or anything of the sort. I can only take care of what’s my responsibility. And Rachel is no longer my burden. 
Before reaching my office, I get Kam’s attention to meet me there. No one else could tell it would be for our previously agreed upon ‘scene’. As I enter behind her, I shut my door and lock it. I lean back on the door, hands going to my belt, unfastening it, and unbuttoning my jeans. 
“I seem to remember Daddy promising someone that they could give him a special treat if she let me handle a certain something for her,” I remark, watching as Kam’s eyes light up and she is on her knees in front of me in seconds. We agreed that she could refer to me as Daddy whenever she wanted, now that I know she has that kink thanks to my talented tongue and hands this weekend. She refers to me as ‘Daddy’ when she needs a more intense and feral session, and ‘Sir’ is when she needs intimacy and passion but with a softer approach.
“May I take out your dick, Daddy?” she whispers, no doubt excited to touch me for the first time. I purposefully denied her this since we only just started being intimate. And only oral for now until she feels 100% comfortable going further. I am more than ready to have her over every surface in my home until she can’t think of anything but her pussy molding to my cock. 
She has been salivating over the chance to suck me off. I’ve let her palm me through my pants and we’ve done a healthy amount of dry humping where we both get off. 
“Go ahead and take me out, baby,” I reply, watching as she is carefully pulling down my zipper. She tugs my trousers and pants down until my cock springs free in her face. Nothing compares to the way she lights up, trying to wrap her small hand around me.
“I can’t believe you were hiding this pretty dick from me, Daddy,” she moans, marveling at my girth.
I capture her chin and tilt her head up, “He’s not hidden from you now, so what the hell are you waiting on?” I press, releasing her and crossing my arms while I peer down at her.
She presses those glossy lips along the underside of my cock, leaving satiny kisses across every inch. When she snakes her tongue out to lap at my pre-cum, I am beyond aroused as she moans at the taste and takes in the head past those perfect lips of hers. The slide of her lip gloss and her wet little mouth makes it easy for her to make a mess. The fucking sounds coming from her have me trembling. 
She pulls off, inhaling sharply, drool hanging from her lips. “Please fuck my face, Daddy,” she whines, and I can’t deny her when she begs so beautifully.
“If it gets to be too much, you tap my hand, ok?” I watch as she nods then takes me back into her mouth. I lock my fingers behind her head, not wasting time and getting right to thrusting deeply into her waiting throat. She mentioned loving being face-fucked and since then, I have thought of nothing else. “Fuck, baby, this fucking mouth of yours is Heaven. I guess it had to be if you’re my Angel.”
I feel her reach around my hips to my ass, a favorite of hers. She likes to comment on how shapely it is, I never really put much thought into it. But if she enjoys it, I’ll make sure to do my squats. I realize she is trying to go deeper and I take the hint and hold her down on me until she sputters and gags. Tears trickle down her cheeks as she catches her breath but I don’t let her go for long.  
“So fucking beautiful when you cry for me, pretty girl,” I praised, shoving my cock back between her lips, chasing my release. My balls slap her chin and her nose is buried in my pubes. She has yet to tap on my hand, she must be enjoying this as much as I am. As that thought springs to mind, I feel the unmistakable tightening of my impending orgasm. “Gonna cum for you, baby. Fuck fuck fuuuuuck.”
She rewards me with an earth-shattering orgasm that has me weak at the knees. Snatched my soul straight through my cock on that one. Even as I heave a sigh of contentment, my cum still leaks from me. She is making sure not to waste a single drop and helps to tuck me back in. She stands to her full height and I wipe at the fallen tears on her face before capturing her lips.
What I can’t manage to verbalize, I try and push through my kiss. How much I enjoyed myself, that I don’t mind kissing after a blowjob, and how fucking lucky I am to have her be mine. We pull apart and I rest my forehead against hers. 
“You are so fucking perfect. And that is not just the orgasm talking, trust me,” I say, laughing along with her when she has a giggling fit at my words.
“I think the orgasm might have a little bit to do with it,” she chuckles, kissing the corner of my mouth, “but either way, thank you, Daddy. Never thought I’d be called perfect.” 
“Get used to it, I’ll make it my mission to get you to believe in your perfection.”
“The only thing I need to be perfect right now is my face. God forbid I go out there with dicksucking evidence. Tear stains and messy gloss? Not for long.” She pulls out a compact mirror and her lip gloss tube and gets to work.
I’m done stretching my limbs as she finishes up her face. I kiss her forehead and straighten myself before unlocking my door and walking her to her desk. Nina and Sophie exchange glances before simultaneously waving at me. I smile and nod my hello before whispering in Kam’s ear, making her laugh as I make my exit.
I get a call from Faye at the end of the day, wondering about visiting this week. I agree after she admits that she and Angie are fighting again. I let her know I will pick her up for dinner and she can stay as long as she needs. 
After the call, I inform Kam about Faye staying over and that our usual after-work time would need to be rescheduled. She seemed upset for a moment but then smiled up at me and had me promise to have fun with Faye while she was over. I remember that she doesn’t have a relationship with her father as I have with Faye. She doesn’t want me to miss a single opportunity I can get with my daughter.
That’s only one reason I say she’s perfect. I have a new reason for every day I get to spend with her. And it only makes it easier to fall for her. But I’m 1000% fine with that.
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Walter’s POV
Friday Evening
This week goes by like a tornado, fast and chaotic. Life with a teenage girl is like…actually no, there is nothing quite like having a teenage daughter. I have heard her yell at her mother over FaceTime for two hours straight. I’ve seen her scroll through TikTok at a ridiculous volume laughing her head off. I’ve had to talk her down from wanting to cut off all of her hair when her curls wouldn’t cooperate with her. 
I have never been happier to drop her back off at home. As soon as I get back home, I kick off my shoes and melt into the couch. I send a couple of texts to Kam, checking to see if she is still awake. I know today was a long day for her with work and therapy. 
Me: Back to an empty house
Me: How’s my Angel?
Kam: Missing Daddy 🥺
Me: My baby girl
Me: I miss you too
Me: I’m right here
The typing bubble starts and stops a few times before I see a new text appear, and it stops me in my tracks.
Kam: I need Daddy here
Kam: [image sent] 
Me: Fuck
Me: Look at that pretty little pussy
Me: Does baby need Daddy’s cock?
Me: You ready for that?
Kam: [video sent]
I click on the video she sends and my dick swells. My sweet Princess sends me a video of her playing with that flawless cunt of hers while calling out for Daddy to fuck her. I’m putting on my shoes and coat in record time. With keys in hand, I send another series of texts.
Me: Daddy is on his way 
Me: I’ll be there in about ten
Me: Keep playing with that perfect pussy for me
Me: Get it nice and wet
Me: NO CUMMING, is that clear?
I wait with bated breath for her to respond. 
Kam: Yes, Daddy
Kam: Need Daddy inside me please
I can hear her little whimper as if she said it aloud, reaching to squeeze my dick to calm it down.
Me: Daddy is in the truck already
Me: Ten minutes baby
Me: Then you’re all mine
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I drive for the next eight minutes and thirty-eight seconds. I may have ignored some speed signs and lights, but I honestly couldn’t care less. I’m out of the truck and walking up the steps of her apartment building, lucky that someone was coming out at the same time. I raise my fist to knock on the door when it opens. A panting Kam greets me, a light sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead and neck.
“I followed your location, you got here fast!” she gushed, pulling me into her apartment and closing the door behind me. I notice her satin nightie that leaves little to the imagination and I pounce on her.
Reaching in to cup her face, I slot our lips together. We both smile into the kiss when we feel a little spark as our lips join, no doubt from our feet shuffling on her carpeting. As my hands wander, I pull back from the kiss.
“Scene break, baby,” I insist, watching as Kam steadies herself to pay attention, “Now, I wanna make sure of a few things before we do this. I need to know if you still want this. I also need to know if you need Daddy or you need Sir.” 
She takes a deep breath, steadying herself before answering, “I want this and I need this. I need Daddy to beat this pussy up. Please?”
Instead of answering, I pick her up and she wraps her legs around me. I carry her to the bedroom and put her down. I take off my layers and she watches, patiently kneeling on her bed. Once I’m down to just my pants, I crawl onto the bed and my brain registers there is music playing. As I kiss her, I listen to the lyrics.
‘Love me at the ungodly hour
I don't have the time
To teach you how to love all over again
And let me ask you this
Are you givin' all that you could give?
Once you get it right
Baby, just know I want you here, come here
Right here’
I push through the raw emotion this song brings up and bring myself back to the present. I lay on my back and turn to Kam. “Come sit on Daddy’s face, baby,” I instruct, stopping to remind her of my rule with that, “And you sit down on Daddy’s face. I promise Daddy can take it.”
Her smile is so brilliant, like a lighthouse. My beacon. She sits down on my face, following directions so well for me. Her delicious nectar is coating her pussy and has me already ready to fuck into her, but I have to make her cum at least once before I’m inside her. I hold her open as I lick and suck at her, silently proud of her as she doesn’t touch me without permission. 
Pretty soon, I have her right where I want her. She’s babbling and begging to cum, her hips rocking against my mouth. I reach down, pulling my throbbing cock free, and allow her to take me into her mouth. As I tell her to cum for me, I feel her moan around me, the vibration going through me like a tremor. I moan around her clit and she loses it. I watch as her walls contract around nothing and my cock twitches in her mouth. 
I help her sit up and lay down next to me, taking off my last layer and helping her out of her nightie. Fuck, those beautiful tits look delectable. I lean down, burying my face between them as Kam pushes them together. I tell her how much I love these tits but it comes out in a mumble causing her to laugh. I lean up and smile down at her as I reach down to rub the head of my cock along her folds. Her laugh dies in her throat as he eyes roll up in her head.
“Are you ready for Daddy, baby girl?” I challenged, pressing the tip in just slightly.
“Wait,” she yelps, and I stop and wait for her to continue, “I’m just nervous…and I really wanna do this. And I already told you about having that awkward talk with Yada about using condoms. And we both got tested and I have an IUD so I don’t have anything to worry about. But yet, here I am.” 
“I want you to know I am not going anywhere. Whether or not we have sex tonight or ever. Whether or not we have an…’accident’. I know this can be daunting, being with someone after so long. Trust me, I am right there with you. But one thing that makes it not so scary is that it’s you. I care about you so much, and I can tell you care about me. And the fact that I get to experience any level of intimacy with you is a gift. But this? This is a big step. And as ready as I am, I want you to match me. I don’t want you to have any doubt about anything, baby. Least of all, how well I’m going to take care of you.” I finish, suddenly feeling like I had just rambled on as my dick throbs and hangs between my legs.
“I want this. I want you. You make me feel so safe. And I wanna feel all of you, nothing between us,” she confessed, her hands finding mine, “You always know just what to say to make me feel better. I love that about you.”
“What can I say? You inspire me to be better, baby. Now, where were we?” I ask, raising her left hand to my lips to kiss. While she is trying to hide her obvious enjoyment of my gesture, I slip my hands under her knees and pull her closer to me. The look of surprise on her face is enough to send a warm feeling through me. 
I hold her right leg over my shoulder and place my left hand on her face as I lean down to kiss her. As our lips touch, I slap my cockhead on her clit. I am rewarded when she opens her mouth to moan directly into mine. Collecting some of her moisture, I line myself up with her entrance and lock eyes with her as just the head disappears within her.
“Shit, Daddy. Fuck that dick is so big,” she moans, arching off the bed.
I pull out just enough and then slide back in further. “You want me to stop, or you gonna be a good girl and take it?” I dare, pulling out so just the head is in and slam back in deeper. 
“Oooooh shit. I’ll be good, just please don’t stop,” she begs, moving her hands to her breasts.
I pull out again and thrust in until our hips are flush, her low moan rumbling through both of us. When I’m fully seated inside her, I lean in and kiss and nip at her neck. Using my right hand, I pull her left leg over my shoulder so I can lean down on both hands. 
I angle my hips so I can start a rhythm digging out this pussy. I change the focus of my lips from her neck to her mouth and kiss her passionately as I begin to pound into her. My tongue mingles with hers and my cockhead and her cervix become friends. 
“Fuck, baby. This fucking pussy is perfect,” I grunt, watching my cock disappear over and over into her, “Who’s pussy is this, baby girl?”
“It’s yours, Daddy,” she sobs, unshed tears at the corners of her eyes.
“Yes, baby,” I coo, reaching up and holding the back of her head, “Now, fucking cry for me.” I pull out harshly and start a punishing stroke inside her. Her cries mix with her moans and soon, I feel the fluttering of her walls around me for the first time. I fuck her through her orgasm and have to praise her. “Such a good girl, taking Daddy’s cock. Creaming all over it too.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” she beams, her hands roaming down my chest to rest on my hips, “Want you to hit from the back now, please?”
I growl, pulling out and flipping her over on her hands and knees. “Ass up, head down, baby girl.” She gets in position and I can’t believe how lucky I am. She is all mine, and I am hers.
She wiggles her hips, no doubt to get my attention…as if I could forget she was here. I massage her ass lightly before landing a few slaps upon her ass. I lean down to place kisses and bites before I lean up and enter her swiftly, gripping her hips, her welcoming warmth like coming home after a long day. 
While picking up the pace, I revel in the sounds our bodies make. Almost like a round of applause and my exhibitionism kink raises its head for the first time in ages. The thought of fucking her in the mirror is floating through my mind at high-speed. For now, let’s just focus on this experience.
“Fuck this pussy just like that Daddy,” she whines, and her back arches, allowing me a new angle to pound her g-spot over and over until I feel her squirt all over my cock and balls.
“Fuck! And I thought it couldn’t get any fucking hotter than you squirting on my hand, baby girl,” I hum, slapping her ass hard enough to make her yelp, “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum in this pussy so fucking hard.”
“Yes, please cum inside me Daddy. Breed this fucking pussy, please!” she pleads, and what can I do but give her what she needs.
I lean forward and wrap my arm around her neck, pulling her back against my chest. “My sweet baby. Beg for Daddy’s cum like a good girl.”
“Fuck, please Daddy. I need it. Need to feel it filling me up,” she urges, and I can hear the tears in her voice before I see them roll down her cheeks, “My pussy was made for your cum. Just want you to keep me always full of you,” she moans, reaching back to grab a fistful of my hair before she fucking decimates me, “Please, Daddy, fuck a baby into me.”
I have never been hit with an orgasm quite as hard as the one I am experiencing right now. To say I saw explosions behind my eyelids would be an understatement. I saw galaxies being born, or were they dying? My ears perk up at a loud sound that I come to realize is my own moaning as I fill Kamaria with my release. I continue to fuck into her in what can only be considered muscle memory. I also don’t remember falling forward onto her back, but I’m currently holding her down. 
My cock is softening inside of her and it feels like I’m pushing wet rope at this point. I pull out of her and watch as she leaks with the evidence of my orgasm. I get off the bed, going to the bathroom and grabbing a towel to clean our bodies. When I come back to her, she is on her back and smiling lazily at me. I reach down and wipe away my cum, making sure to be gentle with her now swollen netherlips. I throw the towel over my shoulder and head back to the bathroom to empty my bladder. 
Once I’m done, she enters and uses the bathroom after me. At this point, we’re more than comfortable being in the bathroom together. It’s just another bonding experience for us.
We go back to the bedroom, change the sheets, and lay down under the blankets. She cuddles into my side and I wrap my arms around her. I debate bringing up the ‘baby’ line but I’ll let her slide for now. I mean, it was the perfect thing to say and I wasn’t expecting it at all. It excited me. And I am not ready to have that conversation with myself yet so I won’t.
I kiss her forehead and slide to my side so I can spoon her. “So, how did this old man do?” I query, holding her close to me.
“Bruh, you’re like five years older than me, at best, so if you’re old then I’m old. And I squirted on your dick, I think you did fucking amazing.” she replies, making me laugh in her ear. “So, how did I do then?”
I lean up over her and lift her face to look into her eyes. “I can’t articulate the level of emotion I have for you right now, seeing as you stole my soul through my dick. But if you’re patient, I will try to tell you later.”
“I can be patient, but don’t make me wait too long to hear it,” she informs, making it sound like she was waiting for me to say something specific, like a certain phrase. I shake the thought from my head, not ready to believe that she is ready to hear that. 
Instead of thinking too long about that, I smile down at her and lay down on her breasts while she plays with my hair. I love this. I love laying with her in silence as we just breathe. I love the way she always finds a way to make me laugh at something when I’ve had a long day. I know where my brain is going with this train of thought and I don’t even care because it’s the truth.
I love her.
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Chapter 6
**Tag List**
@brattymum96 @ambinxe
@enchantedbytomandhenry @astheskycries 
@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @kebabgirl67 @foxyjwls007
Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz  😁
[General Fanfiction (Everything), Henry Fanfiction, August Walker, Bright Like The Moon]
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raisengen · 9 months
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I think there's some tension in Hypergryph's writing between the desire to talk about politics/social dynamics and their desire to show off Really Cool Guys. Usually they can balance it, with their major characters having something meaningful to say about the situation, but I feel that trouble arises when they want more Really Cool Guys than the story allows.
The classic examples are Maria Nearl/Mansfield Break, with Nearl/Saria jumping in to killsteal the final bosses, but right now I'm more concerned with cases like the Sarkaz Royal Court or the Sui siblings: inventing a matching set of Really Cool Guys only to find out their own story can't fit them all.
With the Sarkaz, they've set up many subfactions with their own superpowered representatives, and now we're on Sarkaz Civil War Round 2 they seem to want all of them to get a turn. This is how you end Ch11 with a "quick" raid turning into the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny, featuring about nine top-tier characters, which... didn't really advance the plot much? It seemed more like they were handing out some obligatory flashy fight scenes.
For the Sui siblings, it feels like the risk is in the other direction. The initial premise was of Twelve Really Cool Guys, but after Dusk had a great in-depth event, Invitation to Wine spent so much time on how the Yanese state deals with the Feranmuts that Ling ended up being a minor character.
Right now half of the Sui siblings are accounted for and I'd estimate that the Sui plot is at about the halfway mark too, but I can only imagine that as things escalate it will be harder and harder to say "here's a new sibling, let's explore them".
(That the Sui plot now doubles up as Lungmen continuation doesn't exactly help.)
I don't think there's any magic bullet for this once you've committed. The writers have already taken some steps to ease pressure on the main storylines; I particularly like that instead of a Top Gargoyle we get work split between Mudrock and Mandragora. I suppose this is more a warning against hubris if anything.
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bitter69uk · 10 months
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“It's divoon, oh it's serene / In the fountains pink champagne / Someone carving their devotion / In the heart-shaped pool of fame …”
/ Lyrics from the 1991 single “Kiss Them for Me” by Siouxsie and The Banshees /
Today marks a holy and solemn occasion: Jayne Mansfield (19 April 1933 – 29 June 1967) - Hollywood Babylon made flesh, the punk Marilyn Monroe and the ultimate mid-twentieth century sex kitten-gone-berserk revered by the likes of John Waters, Divine and The Cramps (“She’s a role model, a mentor. She had so much aplomb,” Poison Ivy would note approvingly. “She’d wear spiked heels and gold lamé to take out the garbage”) - died on this day 56 years ago aged just 34. Here she is where it all began – in her film debut in the tawdry 1955 b-movie Female Jungle (which is on YouTube last time I checked). “I saw myself onscreen for the first time and it was love at first sight,” Mansfield would later recall. For me too, Jayne! For me, too! Wear a ratty blonde wig, drink some pink champagne, or cuddle a chihuahua today in Mansfield’s memory
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fictionadventurer · 2 years
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Imagine a Mansfield Park adaptation that treated the book like a classic children's story. Something like Little Women or A Little Princess, that stays with the child's perspective as she endures hardship and grows up.
Start with intense focus on ten-year-old Fanny's home life--her bond with William, her care for the younger kids, the increasing desperation of their poverty. The announcement of her going to Mansfield would be the earth-shattering event that takes her away from the familiar home and into this frightening new world. At Mansfield, the child's perspective shows it as a place of enchantment and of terrors. We see Fanny awed by the elegant house. See how intimidating Uncle Thomas is even as he tries to be kind. Feel relieved at Aunt Bertram's careless kindness. Watch Julia and Maria "befriend" Fanny by telling her how uncultured she is and then leaving her to play by herself. Get crushed by Mrs. Norris' incessant reminders that Fanny should be grateful for every circumstance that makes her miserable. And through it all, William's request that Fanny write to him becomes more and more urgent--he asked her to do it and she can't, and what if she's lost him completely? Edmund's offer of help should be an intense moment of triumph, the first high point of the story, that highlights how his kindness profoundly impacts Fanny.
As Fanny grows up, the focus remains on the coming-of-age angle of the story. The subplot of the play becomes much more understandable to modern audiences if it's framed as a girl struggling between honoring a parent's wishes versus fitting in with friends. Fanny's coming-out ball is a huge turning point that marks her transformation from girl to woman. Returning to her childhood home highlights how much she's grown. And her final choice in the love triangle is Fanny choosing the type of life she wants to lead.
It might be too much for one movie--or require the downplay of some subplots--but it would be a better way to highlight the strengths of this book, instead of failing to make it fit the mold of other Austen books.
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downwiththeficness · 5 months
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Shadow and Veil-Chapter Twenty Eight
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Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction.  Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his  best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty  well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run  her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life  from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings  for her husband’s new business partner at bay.
A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed.  You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there  are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen  eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence,  and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O  dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should  not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to  other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  
Word Count: 2,500
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Eva turned her head to the side to get a better look at it.
The mark.
It sat on her neck in a swirl of slowly healing bruises. The edges were yellowing and there were small scabs forming in the shape of teeth. In a week or so, it would be barely visible. Eva could cover it with make up, but the thing that the mark represented would not be so easily hidden.
Eva smelled like him. It didn’t matter how many showers she took or how carefully she cleaned the wound, she smelled like Horacio. His tobacco and vetiver mixed with her body, leaving something warm and sweet in its wake. Her every moment was dusted with a very real reminder of what he had done—what Eva had allowed him to do.
She loved it.
Josh didn’t.
All her meetings were canceled along with all of her social engagements. No one in the city was allowed to know that Dr. Moore’s wife was half bonded to some unknown alpha. It was a scandal that could not be borne. To appease her husband, Eva wore a scarf around her neck so that he didn’t have to look at it. Secretly, it was so fucking cathartic to know how embarrassed he was about the consequences of his own decisions.
Josh drove Horacio to react, forced him into it with a level of arrogance that couldn’t be checked—not by Alexei, and certainly not by Eva. It baffled her that Josh made such a mistake with all of his intelligence, with all the things he knew about the man he was tempting. She overheard him talking with Alexei, bitching about the whole thing. Alexei listened until Josh ran out of steam and said only one thing: You started it.
From her closet, Eva selected a soft length of fabric in navy and very, very slowly wrapped it around her neck. The mark was sensitive and any little touch would give her a full body shiver. She didn’t mind in the least, would constantly run her fingers lightly over the marred skin in the privacy of her own bed.
Wound dutifully covered, Eva grabbed a small clutch and headed out of the house. There were no meetings for the foreseeable future and the list places she could go without meeting someone who might know her was short. Bored and needing a distraction, Eva put the car in drive and took a familiar route to the library.
The librarian waved to her as she entered. Eva waved back and took a turn down the stacks. She walked her fingers along the shelves, considering the options. There were old favorites that might bring her comfort and books that she might never read. There was fiction, non-fiction, niche, and technical. All of which she’d at least glanced at once or twice over the years.
She made a circuit through all of shelves and then started a second round with more purpose. Stalling in the classic literature section, Eva pulled Mansfield Park from among the other Austen novels. It had been years since she’d picked it up and Eva remembered enjoying the story. She cradled the book to her chest and sat down at an out of the way table.
Eva was just starting the second chapter when Margaret approached with a stack of folders.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Moore,” she said congenially, “I have a group of kids coming into the library any minute and need to get these back to the microfiche room. I don’t want to leave the desk unattended—you know kids—and I was wondering if you would be able to take it to the back for me.”
“Uh,” Eva spluttered, “Sure. I can do that.”
Margaret handed her the folders, “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Bemused by the unexpected task, Eva rose and edged around the table towards the back hallway. The microfiche room was tucked into the darkest part of the library. To get to it, Eva had to meander down a set of steps into a vacant hallway that smelled faintly of ink.
“Creepy,” Eva grumbled to herself.
The hallway was empty, as was the michrofiche room. She flicked on the lights and looked for a place to set the folders down where they would be easily found. The large, clunky machines were lined up along the far wall next to the storage. Eva spotted a small desk near the door and dropped the folders there.
Task complete, Eva headed back into the hall before remembering that she hadn’t turned off the lights. With a little skip-step, she scurried back to the room and tapped the light switch. On her way out, the door at the end of the hall opened.
Sunlight flooded the doorway. Temporarily blinded, Eva squinted at the person walking through it. A man was cast in shadow that slowly gave way to him.
“Horacio?” Eva breathed, wondering if she was hallucinating.
She had been wanting him for so long. And, now that he was here, she didn’t know what to do. Eva was caught halfway between one breath and the next and the feeling constricted around her heart.
The door closed and he stopped a few feet inside the threshold. It was him. Here was here. Eva stared, mouth open in shock. Of all the places she expected to see Horacio again, the basement of the library wasn’t one of them.
He stared right back, eyes moving over her form in a way that was sharp and assessing. He wasn’t wearing his Diego uniform today. The shiny silk shirt and flashy jewelry was replaced with khakis and a polo shirt that was stretched a little too thin across his shoulders.
Eva moved without thought. She was suddenly in his arms, being held tightly against his chest. Tension that she didn’t know she was carrying released in a sudden wave that almost had her knees buckling. The breath she was holding left her lungs in one long exhale. Eva blinked rapidly against the inexplicable urge to cry.
Horacio pushed his face into her neck and inhaled raggedly. A tremor went through his body and his arms squeezed around her. He swayed to the side, pivoting to rest his back against the wall. Against her chest, Eva could feel his heart beating rapidly. He didn’t seem to be able to catch his breath.
Standing between his legs, Eva struggled to get a grip on the things that she was feeling. Her emotions changed so quickly that she couldn’t get her mind around them. Then, because she had other things she wanted to focus on, she stopped trying entirely.
He lifted his head and cupped her cheek. His mouth opened, but no words came. He looked stunned despite the fact that he had to have deliberately come to see her. Arranged it. There was no other explanation for how he was here at the same time she was. In the basement, no less.
Eva soaked up his attention, memorizing every detail of his face. There was evidence of stress that cut across his gorgeous features. His hair, normally brushed away from his face was a riot of curls that fell over his brow. Dark circles swept beneath his eyes and he needed a shave.
What had the last few days been like for him?
Horacio’s fingers drifted down to the scarf around her neck. Nimbly, he slipped it free from the loose knot. His eyes dropped and she watched his pupils dilate as he took in the shape of his mark on her neck.
“Does it hurt?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
Eva licked her lips, “A little.”
She was unable to lie to him, even when she knew how much he hated to cause her pain.
He made a short, disgruntled sound as he leaned forward. Eva lifted her chin, eyes falling to half mast when he pressed a careful kiss to the bruised skin. Another, happier sound worked its way past his throat, followed by a sigh. His breath was warm, sending a frisson of sensation all over.
Pulling back, Horacio fixed her with a serious look, “Has he retaliated?”
“Not yet.”
A nod, “Good.” Then, “Did you pack a bag?”
She smiled, “Two.”
“Good,” he said, “That’s good.”
Eva meant for her kiss to be softer, but the way she touched her mouth to his was steeped in fervent desire. Her fingers curled in his shirt and she pressed against him from chest to thigh. Horacio groaned and spun on the ball of his foot so that she was the one trapped against the wall.
He licked into her mouth, traced a long line from her waist to her hip and back. The heat from his body was scalding, a physical manifestation of an inner fever. His teeth caught her lip in a sharp nip that he soothed with a long swipe of his tongue. When he pulled back a scant inch, Eva tried to follow him.
“I should send you back to him dripping with my come,” he ground out.
Eva’s brows hit her hairline. Any response she might have had to that fucking hot sentence was cut off by another unrelenting kiss. Absently, she calculated whether or not she could make it happen without getting caught by Margaret.
Horacio broke the kiss a second time and inhaled roughly against her cheek. They leaned against one another for a long time. Eva closed her eyes, trying to memorize a moment she knew was going to have to carry her through the chaos that was coming.
“He wants to meet with me tomorrow.”
Eva jerked back to look at him, “Why?”
Mouth quirking, Horacio simply said, “I’m guessing he wants to set new terms.”
She thought about it, “Maybe. He hasn’t spoken to me since…”
There was no need to complete the sentence. Horacio knew exactly what she was referring to. He pulled his lips through his teeth slowly and touched the mark. Eva couldn’t help the shudder that racked her shoulders and down her spine.
“I’m not sorry.”
“I’m not asking you to apologize.”
Horacio nodded, eyes following the lines of his mark. Eva grasped his wrist and rose up on her toes for a kiss. He accepted it enthusiastically, mouth moving over hers with passion.
“I need to get back,” he said between kisses, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“Good...good.”
They parted slowly, in parts, one step at a time. Eva struggled with the separation, couldn’t make herself take the stairs back to the library proper.
Horacio backed up to the door, “Its almost over, Eva.”
She nodded.
“See you tomorrow.”
And then he was gone, disappearing into the sunlight as if he’d never been there. Eva drifted upstairs in a daze that carried over to the drive back to the house.
It dissipated entirely when she walked into the kitchen to find Josh and Alexei standing by the island.
“Birdie,” Alexei greeted.
Josh ignored her.
“We need to talk.”
Eva crossed her arms and waited.
“I’m sorry this happened,” Alexei began, “It shouldn’t have, but we have to deal with our new reality. The good news is that its not permanent.”
Eva didn’t want to agree with him, but Alexei was right. The bond was only half formed. It would take a natural heat for it to solidify into something that couldn’t be broken without the death of one or the other. If Eva refused Horacio during that heat, the bond would fade away and both of them would be free to choose another partner.
The thought made her want to throw up.
“Another bit of good news is that we now have a significant advantage over Diego,” Alexei continued in a soft, even tone, “Even if he isn’t interested in you, his instincts can’t be changed. The bond won’t let him ignore you.”
He wasn’t ignoring me before, she wanted to say.
“Which,” he added, “helps put us in a better place to negotiate.”
“I don’t get it,” Eva muttered, “You got what you wanted—he’s setting up the meeting with his supplier.”
“Its not enough!” Josh blurted in a fit of anger, “He humiliated me and I am not going to let that go.”
Alexei placed a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Relax. We will handle it.”
Shrugging away Alexei’s hand, Josh paced to the counter and leaned against it. His mouth was turned down in a pout that told the other two people in the room he was half a second away from a tantrum.
Eva took a breath and debated whether or not she was going to intervene. She didn’t give two shits about how angry he was, but also didn’t have the patience to stand there while he expressed that particular emotion.
The front door opened, “Hello?”
Myra.
Eva touched her brow, thinking that it couldn’t get much worse than her mother in law showing up. She steadied herself against the fresh wave of disdain that was coming.
“You aren’t answering your phone,” Myra complained as she cleared the kitchen door. She noted the tension in the room, “What is going on?”
When is became clear no one was going to answer, Myra crossed her arms and lifted a brow. She was prepared to wait them out, if necessary, to get at the answers she wanted.
Alexei broke first, “Your son taunted a business partner who retaliated with Eva. We’re dealing with it.”
Myra glanced at Eva, “Retaliated how?”
“He initiated a bond,” Alexei answered frankly, “We are dealing with it.”
Eva kept her eyes on the floor, noting that there were a few dust bunnies that needed to be swept up. From her periphery, Myra’s heels clicked towards her. Eva clenched her jaw and chanced a look at her.
Myra’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, “Let me see.”
With a deep sigh, Eva tugged off the scarf and turned her head. She wasn’t ashamed of it and she refused to allow Myra to make her feel guilty. The woman could choke on her disappointment, for all Eva cared.
Myra stepped closer, peering at Eva’s neck, “He did this without your permission?”
“Of course he did!” Josh scoffed.
Eva remained silent.
A nod, “Well...I suggest you deal with it immediately.” Then, to Eva, “I’m sorry. I thought we were past this with our omegas.”
It was the first time in Eva’s memory that Myra had ever apologized and it momentarily stunned her. A quick look at Myra’s face told her that the woman actually meant it. Which was both touching and confusing. Eva could only nod around the sudden lump in her throat.
“Go upstairs,” Myra ordered, “I’ll make sure this...mistake...is corrected.” Then, she turned to the men in the room, “You are going to tell me everything about this business partner, and you are going to tell me now.”
Glad for the excuse to get the hell out of that kitchen, Eva scurried up to her room and closed the door. She let out a relieved breath and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Its almost over,” she said to herself, “Its almost over.”
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