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jeffreybower · 7 days ago
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Your Week in Books #20
Vibal and Blush Books acquisitions, Erin Entrada Kelly, the Ateneo Press Review Crew, Arundhati Roy and more in this week’s edition. Continue reading Your Week in Books #20
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perlelune · 1 year ago
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Creep | Oliver Quick
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Though you can’t grasp exactly what, you know something is very off with your boyfriend’s peculiar new friend.
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, Stalking, Voyeurism, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Drinking, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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Felix’s long digits drum over your back as he pouts, “You really brought me here just to study, babe?” His raspy, flirtatious tone tugs your lips skyward. Still, your attention doesn’t stray from your laptop screen. Sentences bleed from your fingertips at a quick-fire pace. A little under three thousand words on Bentham’s theory of utilitarianism, due by Monday. The topic isn’t exactly thrilling but you have to hand it over in time.
“If I don’t ace this essay, I’m going to fail this class,” you absently reply. Failure. The one thing you literally can’t afford right now, though you forbear sharing that particular bit with Felix. Best he perceives your single-minded determination as a core stare of your character rather than what it actually is…a necessity, one born of dire circumstances.
He takes a long drag off his cigarette. Grey smoke floats around you, smudging the words on your screen. You repress tears as your eyes burn. You wished he’d curb the nasty habit. You’ve dropped hints before.
But no one tells Felix Catton what to do. Many would kill to even breathe the same nicotin-infused air as him. Felix is the sun and everyone on campus craves to be in his orbit, eager for the slightest chance to bask in his warmth, shower in his light.
You’re no different. The day he asked you out, a little over a year ago, you pinched yourself twice to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Felix Catton wanted…you? It couldn’t be real. 
This was the boy you held in your heart for a decade, the only one you ever had eyes for.
And while your relationship suffered its share of hardships, namely Felix’s wandering eyes, you couldn’t picture life without him at your side.
He’s your everything.
He could hurt you a thousand times and you’d forgive him each of those times.
Felix’s bare shoulder grazes yours as he states, “They won’t fail you, not with who your dad is.”
Your stomach knots with his comment. Still, you shrug, pretending away the guilt steadily gnawing your insides.
“I don’t want to get special treatment just because of my family name, Felix,” you say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.
Though his smile never falters, his jaw ticks. “And I do?”
The ice in his tone scatters in your veins. Immediately, you discard your homework, concerned gaze finding his.
“I’m not saying that.” When Felix doesn’t respond, panic roars inside you. You touch his exposed chest to bring his attention to you. He doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”
A thick blanket of silence engulfs the room and your airways constrict. It feels as if your heart is on the verge of collapse as you wait for a reaction from your boyfriend, his chestnut gaze glued to the ceiling.
His head turns to you slowly. He releases a large puff of smoke in your face. Tears rush to your eyes, filling them to the brim.
Felix shrugs.
“It sounded like you did. A little. But that’s okay.” His tone is mellow in that way that oozes displeasure. “I’m just a legacy kid getting by on his trust fund and good looks, right?”
Your mouth quakes and he bursts out a chuckle. He cups your cheek, a wide grin breaking onto his face. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”
You swallow your budding tears, wiping your eyes swiftly as Felix reaches around you to put out his cig in the ashtray.
You punch him in the chest, your own laughter bubbling out.
“You’re an arsehole.”
His grin expands. Twining your fingers with his, Felix’s tone gets softer.
“I wanted to ask…” He trails off, brown gaze clinging to yours. “Can Ollie come to the party you and Anabel are throwing tonight?”
You tilt your head in befuddlement. “Ollie?”
He traces the lines in your palm, adding absently, “Yeah, Oliver. I told you about him. Saved my arse when my bike broke.”
“Right, bike guy,” you say, remembrance hitting you. You tilt your head. “What’s he like?”
Felix sighs.
“He doesn't have too many friends.  He's also had a rough upbringing. So I thought we could help him a little, you know?” You study him. However casual your boyfriend attempts to sound, you instantly recognize what this is. Yet another try at playing knight in shining armor. Whoever this Oliver guy is, he’s now become your boyfriend’s side project. His charity case possibly.
“He’s not like us so we could try to be nice.”
Not like us. You mask your discomfort with a bright smile. 
About a year ago, your dad’s company filed for bankruptcy. Thankfully your scholarship still allows you to attend Oxford, but your lifestyle has drastically changed. No more shopping sprees. No more casual leisure trips to Europe. No more frivolous spendings with daddy’s black card.
The last straw was when your father emptied every account, including your trust, and left the country without as much as a goodbye text. Since those events, your mother has taken refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle. You can barely get a hold of her these days.
So not only are you penniless, you might as well be an orphan. 
Felix is all you have left. You can’t risk him finding out the truth. He can never know about the part time jobs you’ve had to take to cover tuition costs or the small flat your mum had to move into after your father had to sell the family manor. He might think you’re beneath him now, working class, destitute. Or worse, he might pity you, treat you like a charity case too. 
You follow the curve of his dark brow with your thumb, sweeping over his silver stud.
“Hm, sure. I can be nice,” you promise.
“I know you can,” he teases, large hands pulling on your thighs to spread you across his lap.
You squeal before scolding him, “Felix…I really really need to finish this essay.”
His eyes darken with lust as he licks his lips. He wiggles his hips, causing the bulge in his jeans to rub against your clothed center. Your breath hitches. “And I really really need you to take care of this for me.” His hoarse, desperate inflection makes your core clench. His palms run over your thighs beneath your short dress. “Just five minutes? Come on, I’ve been hard for like an hour, babe.”
He hums, already playfully fiddling with the edge of your lace panties.
“It’s your fault for wearing this fucking pink dress. You know the way your ass looks in it drives me crazy.”
You resolve crumbles beneath Felix’s heated stare. You can never tell him no. And he knows that. Releasing a deep sigh, you relent.
“Five minutes,” you offer.
He slides one finger inside your weeping core. As you draw a sharp breath, Felix beams.
“It’s all I need,” he coos.
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The party’s at his height, loud music blasting from the gigantic speakers and glow sticks waving in the pitch blackness of the underground cellar. You thread your way between tipsy students, carrying two cups of beer in your hands. 
As you reach the VIP corner, you hand Annabel her drink. The redhead mumbles her thanks as she bobs her head to the music. You peer at your surroundings, glad to see everyone having fun. 
It’s a frank success. Pride trickles inside you at that. It’s been hard collecting pockets of free time to put it together between classes and assignments. But you did it. 
Truthfully, you’re also craving some fun tonight. All you’ve done lately is studying. You miss the days when you were more carefree, unconcerned about your grades deciding the course of your future.
You glance down at your watch, scowling as you notice the time. He was supposed to be here three hours ago.
“Where’s Felix?” you ask Venetia. Your boyfriend’s sister  lazily opens her eyes, a drunken smile spreading onto her lips. She shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him around.” 
You pivot to the rest of the group. 
“Have you guys seen him tonight?”
Annabel shakes her head apologetically while Farleigh brings his blunt to his mouth with a taunting smile.
“Desperate much?” he teases.
“Farleigh, come on,” Anabel chastises. She bumps her shoulder into yours, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t mind him, you know he’s always a jerk after a few drinks.”
Farleigh sighs. “Darling, you know I love you. It was just a joke.”
“A joke, right…” you mumble. Your cheeks heat though you try not to let your feelings show. Still, Farleigh’s words linger in your head. Maybe you’re being too clingy. It’s something you should mind.  What if you became too needy and Felix grew bored of you? It’s not like he wouldn’t find a replacement for you in a heartbeat.
You lie back on the plush couch, sipping from your beer cup as your friends continue their chat. The conversation has long since stopped making sense, fueled by drug-inspired ramblings. Your attention is halved by your straying train of thoughts, the current whereabouts of your boyfriend still at the forefront of your brain.
Another hour flies by before Felix’s towering frame finally pierces through the crowd. A smaller boy trails behind him, his expression mirroring that of a lost puppy. He adjusts his glasses, awkwardly avoiding the drunken bodies around him. The word “Sorry” doesn’t stop pouring from his mouth. 
You realize this must be Oliver. Astonishment flows through you. This isn’t the kind of company Felix traditionally keeps. But you elect to try your best to be nice and welcoming.
It’s what Felix asked of you after all. Besides, entering a new group of people cannot be easy, your tight-knit circle having known each other since kindergarten for some.
You don’t miss Anabel’s fleeting,  condescending glance as she takes in Oliver though. Getting her assent to let him come had been a hassle, as she regards him as some weird, scholarship kid who’d just bring the mood down. But you insisted and she finally caved.
You trade a meaningful look with her, silently nudging her to be nice. The redhead practically rolls her eyes but squeezes her lips shut. Annabel may be one of your best friends but even you’re aware that she can be quite snobbish at times. 
A sullen expression decorates your face as Felix enters the private booth. 
“You’re late,” you blurt out. Farleigh snickers behind you and your cheeks flare. But everything around you fades as Felix grabs your face and presses feverish lips over yours. Your irritation melts in the heat of the passionate kiss. 
When he frees your mouth, his thumb runs over your swollen bottom lip as he explains casually, “Yeah we were just hanging out and we lost track of time.”
He then introduces the shy boy.
“That’s Ollie.”
“Nice to meet you,” he stutters.
“Likewise,’ you reply smiling.
You gauge him. Beneath the large glasses, you note the slanted blue eyes and soft, round boyish features. Felix’s friend is cute. If only he weren’t so painfully awkward. 
“You should sit with us. There’s plenty of space,” you say. 
Felix draws you onto his lap as he sits. Oliver takes a nervous seat next to the two of you. His eyes keep rising to Felix, as if seeking perpetual approval from your boyfriend. You’re a little perplexed. Farleigh hands Felix a spliff and he lets his hand rest on your thigh while taking a long drag from it.
“So, where are you from exactly?” you ask Oliver.
His gaze on you and Felix is sharp, somehow constantly darting to where your boyfriend’s holding you.
“Prescott,” he answers.
You mull over his response. It’s a few hours away from Oxford. You don’t know much about it. Though, based on what Felix implied about the way he grew up, you expected him to originate from a rougher area. Prescott doesn’t seem too awful.
“Prescott? They must be proud of you back home, especially your parents.”
“Probably not, actually.”
Your curiosity is piqued. “Why are you saying that?”
Oliver shrugs. His eyes find the floor before meeting yours again.
“Just don’t talk to them much,” he mutters. “They got problems and stuff…”
You slant your head. “Problems?”
Felix’s hand tightens atop your thigh. “Babe, that’s enough prying, don’t you think?”
“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know him.”
“You’re embarrassing him, babe.”
Oliver’s blue gaze lifts to yours, his face unreadable.
“No, it’s fine,” he says, though you detect a slight edge to his timbre that wasn’t there before. A small smile tugs his lips. “I don’t mind questions. Got nothing to hide.”
You nod. An icy tickle blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward as Oliver’s intense focus doesn’t leave you. You turn away, shifting your attention to your boyfriend. Throughout the entire night, a strange sensation thunders through you, like the lightning before the storm. You can’t explain it. It’s like the world shifted off its axis, though you can’t pinpoint the reason.
Thankfully the strangeness is cast aside by Felix’s soft lips and heady, masculine scent. As the party goes on in the background, the two of you sneak away. You end up making out in a dark corner, Felix’s greedy hands slipping beneath your short skirt to grab a fistful of your ass. He pinches your flesh and you squeal.
A warm chuckle spills from his lips as he peppers tender kisses alongside your neck.
“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.
You readily agree. He takes your hand and the two of you hitch a ride back to campus. The two of you giggle in the backseat of the car every time the driver berates you for getting too handsy with each other. You laugh it off all the way back to his room, lips locking as you cross the threshold. You jump to wrap your legs around Felix’s tapered waist. He purrs, his hands latching around your hips, pulling you closer. He pushes you against a wall, tracing a scorching path in the valley between your breasts. Moaning, you toss your head back. 
As your eyes flutter however, you catch sight of a silhouette standing outside Felix’s window. Your heart bounces, your eyes growing saucer-wide. You gasp and leap away from Felix. 
“What the fuck?” he curses as you race to the window. Chest pulsing with your quick heartbeats, you peel the window open to peek outside. The cold night air whisks inside the room. Goosebumps break out on your skin.
Your gaze wanders, searching the darkness. Confusion swells within you as you find nothing. Nothing but greenery, the same trees and grass flanking your path whenever you stroll through campus. 
“There was someone outside, w-watching us,” you stammer.
Felix’s frustrated breath grazes the back of your neck. “Babe, there’s no one out there.”
You squint, dumbfounded when nothing but pitch blackness stares back at you. For a minute, you really believed someone stood there. In fact, whoever they were bore a peculiar resemblance to…
You catch yourself before finishing the thought.
Now that’s just crazy.
“But I saw…”
Felix shifts your body towards him. He cups your cheeks and rasps, “Hey. Hey, look at me. There’s no one but us here.” His lips collide with yours. He starts groping you again and you push him off  you, stunned that he wants to have sex at a time like this.
“No, Felix, I-I can’t.”
He stumbles back and scoffs, “Oh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire, glowering at him.
His gaze flicks over you, his expression cold. “All that teasing just to leave me high and dry?”
“Felix, wait…”
He avoids your touch, collecting his jacket from the bed when your fingers stretch towards him.
“It’s fine. I’m just gonna have a smoke. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Your stomach sinks.
“O-Okay,” you say as your hand retreats to your side.
The door slams shut and you collapse on Felix’s bed. Your eyes veer to the window once more. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of someone. Maybe all those late nights writing essays and revising for the upcoming exams are slowly catching up to you, dragging you to the brink of madness.
Felix doesn’t call you the following day. Of course he doesn’t. You broke the mood. You acted weird. What reason does he have to want to be around you again? It’s bad enough you neglected him in favor of your assignments and club activities for the last few weeks. Now you can’t even enjoy the sparse time you have together.
Still, you flip your phone open all day long, longing for a word from him, any trivial, insignificant word.
You get nothing. 
You gloomily drag your feet around campus and somehow find your way in one of the empty student lounges, save Farleigh and Venetia. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, eyes glued to the ceiling, the two of them are sharing a spliff. You wedge yourself between them, lying on your back also. You steal the roll from Venetia’s fingers and bring it to your lips. Your throat burns and you cough as you inhale a puff. Venetia’s lips curve upward as your eyes water.
“You gotta take it easy the first time,” she says, amusement lighting her olive orbs. “Tiny inhales.” She shows you how and you mimic her gestures. You go slower the second time and a pleasant numbness sets into your limbs. Your eyes shut. You kind of get it now. For the first time in several weeks, your mind’s almost at rest, your stormy thoughts quieted. 
“You don’t smoke,” Farleigh notes near you.
“I am today.”
“You guys will be fine,” Venetia assures. “You’re always fine.”
Your eyes open, settling on the pristine white ceiling. 
“I fucking hate him sometimes.” You pause, sucking a deep breath. “But I love him more.”
“Yep, that’s Felix,” they utter in unison.
You heave out a weary sigh. They grew up with him. They know better than anyone, how sweet and wonderful he can be, but also cruel and careless sometimes.
Just like the sun, Felix’s light can also burn whoever gets too close. 
For a while, the three of you hang out in silence, the spliff switching hands every once in a while. Eventually, each of them rises, leaving you to your mopey thoughts. 
Before taking his leave however, Farleigh whispers in your ear,
“Oh and darling, next time you wear a rental…make sure the price tag isn’t sticking out. It gives you away.”
You sit up immediately. A smile dances on the boy’s lips as he disappears. You grab the back of your neck, face warming as you feel the tag poking through the collar of your shirt.
You nearly forgot you’re due to return the designer piece in two days’ time. You can’t believe someone noticed. Though you suppose if anybody would, it’d be Farleigh. Nothing gets past his keen eye. You surmise it was a necessity with the way he grew up. Learning to read people, knowing what makes them tick, being able to spot a pretender from a mile away…which you are now.
Maybe it’s ludicrous, acting like you can still afford to live like this, like your life wasn’t turned upside down.
Still, you can’t fathom the alternative. The judgement, the pity, from your friends…from Felix. The thought alone makes you sick. The echo of Anabel’s voice as she disparaged Oliver’s background a few days ago never left you. 
Dunno what Felix even sees in him. He’s some weird scholarship kid who buys his clothes at Oxfam.
That was harsh…and made you wonder what your best friend would have to say about your current situation. 
So you’d rather lie, even if you sometimes look like a fool doing so.
You swallow a wide lungful, willing yourself to be calm. You repeat the mantra, again and again. You’re okay. You’re okay. You just need to keep your grades up and get through the semester.
The rest of the week is hell. Felix all but ignores you, not even sparing you a glance when he brushes past you in the university corridors. The itch to talk to him sears inside you. Unfortunately, he’s always surrounded by a swarm of people, the center of attention as usual, making approaching him near impossible. You can’t picture bringing up your relationship problems in front of so many eyes.
Besides, you don’t want to project desperation, Farleigh’s pointed gibe still resonating in your mind. You need to play it cool, wrap yourself in a disguise of indifference…despite the way you wither away every second he’s not texting you back. 
The agonizing wait is made worse by him. He’s everywhere now. Wherever Felix goes, he goes too. Oliver Quick has essentially become your boyfriend’s shadow. Whether in class, at pub meetups, at parties, the quiet, nervous boy  never abandons Felix’s side, always peering up at him with those round baby blues of his, a strange mix of admiration, devotion and…something else you can’t pinpoint etched on his face.
It’s sort of creepy in your opinion. 
Though you’d never say it aloud. For some reason, Oliver’s his new toy. And you’re acutely aware of how Felix is with his toys. He plays with them for a while then moves on to the next fancy, shiny new one. He did it to Eddie before. Now Oliver. 
And maybe it’ll be your turn one day…if you don’t do something. 
It’s how you end up in front of his dorm one night, already tipsy from half a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage to get you to knock on his door. It’s pathetic. Of course it is, but you just can’t wait anymore. 
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and shaking off your nerves. Your knuckles are less than an inch from the door when a broken whimper reaches you from the other side of Felix’s door. 
Brows furrowing, you place your ear against the wood. You hear a moan this time. Deep, distinctive, masculine…familiar. Your heart stops. 
You plummet to your knees, peering through the keyhole. You feel wrong for doing so, for invading Felix’s privacy like this. But guilt crumbles beneath the weight of heartbreak at what you witness. 
You almost find yourself wishing you hadn’t looked. Almost.
Rivulets of anguish flow down your face as you watch your best friend and boyfriend lip-locked, practically swallowing each other’s faces. Their clothes aren’t off but the urgent way they’re grinding against each other is a dead giveaway as to what’s to come.
Legs trembling, you stumble back from the door. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. You’re a fool.
You drunkenly stagger through the corridors, clinging to the walls each time you almost trip over your own feet.
You wind up slumped on some stairs, too inebriated to carry yourself much further. Your lids sag as you exhale. More hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest aches, a knife piercing through your heart as the memory of Annabel and Felix lost in the throes of passion fleets across your brain. Why are you even shocked? It’s not like you never caught Anabel leering at him while she thought you weren’t looking. And it’s not like Felix is some kind of saint. Still, you can’t help but feel massively betrayed. You thought you meant more to him. You thought they wouldn’t…not with each other.
When your eyes flutter open, you find a pair of intense cobalt orbs studying you.
“Oliver…” you mumble. In your drunken stupor, you don’t bother wondering how he got here, seemingly materializing from thin hair.
He hunkers in front of you. His scent tickles your nose and it twitches. The smell of his cologne is so strikingly reminiscent of the one Felix wears. A wave of emotion engulfs you. Sobs shake your frame as you shrink against the wall.
Oliver’s gaze rises to your weeping face as he questions, “Are you okay?”
“M’fine…” you slur, wiping your snotty nose. You must look a fright, a pathetic heap of tears aimlessly wandering the university corridors.
He tilts his head. “You don’t look fine.”
You consider Oliver. He is cute, which you noticed before. And in the dimly lit stairway, his blue eyes burn even brighter. You loathe that Felix is allowed to hurt you the way he did and can just…keep on. If your friends aren’t off-limits, why would his be?
You bat your lashes at Oliver.
“You got any alcohol?”
His lips curve upward as he rasps, “Would you like me to have alcohol?”
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How did you end up there? The question keeps swirling in your head as Oliver’s mouth hungrily devours yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. He trails fevered kisses down your neck and you squirm. As his teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of your neck, you let out a sharp cry. You tug on his dark locks and Oliver growls against your skin. The pain mixes with pleasure in your haze. His tongue then circles where he punctured your flesh, dragging slowly as an elated purr rises from his chest. His hard-on presses into your thigh. Alarm bells ring inside your mind.
It’s all a little too real, you realize. You got carried away. You draw back, pushing against his chest. “Oliver, wait…”
You might as well have said nothing, your words falling to unlistening ears as Oliver grabs your wrists and nudges you on the bed on your back. You peer up at him. Lust darkens his blue gaze, making him appear almost inhuman in the darkness.
Your mouth wobbles.
Pinning your wrists at your sides, Oliver kisses you senseless. Soon his lips are tracing a scorching path down your body, his hands moving to peel off your short skirt and panties.
His attentive gaze doesn’t leave yours as he sluggishly drags the tiny layer of lace down your legs.
His throat bobs when your bare cunt is exposed to him.
Biting his bottom lip, Oliver crawls his way to your core. Your legs quake. There is a strange glow in his eyes that sends chills down your back. 
“Oli-” you start, but the protest dwindles in a helpless whimper when Oiver buries his head between your thighs and flicks his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Oliver’s firm hands clasp around your thighs, keeping you in place when you attempt to close your legs. He greedily eats you out, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He suckles your tender button in his mouth and your eyes roll back. Your fingers get lost in his dark mane as your back arches against the sheets. Oliver’s feverish tongue sweeps around your folds and you grow weaker, slumping against the pillow. 
Quickly, stars dangle in your vision. Your fists tighten around the sheets while your legs turn to jelly. A long breath flows from your lips. 
You don’t remember ever coming that hard before, not even with Felix.
Tingles are still dancing over your legs as a sliver of clarity returns to you.
Oliver’s tongue slowly moves, collecting the remnants of your essence off his lips as a look of sheer bliss decorates his face. You shiver.
You try to move off the bed. “I think that’s enough,” you say, folding your knees.
Oliver’s mouth quirks lopsidedly. “Oh, we’re nowhere near done, luv.”
Much quicker than you, Oliver slithers his way up your body and cages you beneath his frame. He steals your lips in a hungry kiss, trapping your wrists above your head. His fingers are tight enough that you just know it’ll bruise. You taste your own bittersweet flavor on his tongue. His hand creeps under your shirt, groping your tits. He plants urgent pecks on your face, dragging his teeth along your jaw.
“Oliver, please…”  you beseech, shock making your voice shake.
He sinks a finger between your slick walls. Your stomach tightens.
Oliver releases your swollen lips and twists his finger inside your core. Your breath hitches.
He smiles down at you.
“But you’re gushing down there, luv. This is what you want.”
Your face warms. You hate that he’s right, that your body clings to him, making space you wish it didn’t…almost inviting his actions.
But Oliver’s mouth and hands are far too good at knowing which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering mess. Shame pools in your gut as sharp keens leave your lips.
He pumps inside you at a steady pace, his thumb teasing your heap of sensitive nerves every once in a while, pressing until you cry out. He adds another finger and the air in your lungs falters. His hands feel everywhere at once, his teeth and mouth scattering marks all over your body.
He doesn’t stop until you clench around him, soaking his hand with your juices when you shatter with a high-pitched wail.
You crash over the pillows. Your body is still coming off the high. Half-lidded eyes blindly rise to the ceiling. Oliver yanking off his shirt and discarding his pants doesn’t register, not fully, the entire bottle of vodka you emptied before making your mind slow.
He’s suddenly inside you, his thick length splitting you apart as he places his forearms besides your head.
Your lips part in a quiet shout. It feels like if you might break, your walls aching as they stretch around him.
He begins to rail into you, each of his thrusts blunt and animalistic. As if he were possessed by some beast. You know it’s ludicrous. But as the lewd clapping of your damp skin against his rises each time he buries himself balls-deep inside you…it’s how you feel. Like a wild animal somehow broke free and started rutting into you.
Your head lolls against the pillows, your thoughts going blank every time he grazes your sweet spots. Your fingernails rake down his back. 
“Does Felix fuck you like this?” he rasps. He presses his chest against yours, his cock hitting an angle that draws a lengthy moan from you. A crooked smile ghosts over Oliver’s lips. “Or maybe more like this…” 
His warm breath fans over your earshell.
“Tell me luv… How do our cocks compare?”
When you don’t respond, he roughly shoves inside you, his fingers cinching around your windpipe. You gasp in horror, gaping at him through tear-filled eyes.
“Answer me,” he instructs, his voice deeper than before.
“Y-You’re bigger than he is,” you sputter, struggling to get the words out with his hand squeezing your throat. 
A peculiar blend of excitement and disappointment swims in his gaze when you answer.
You weakly claw at his chest, squirming beneath him. He doesn’t let you go, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth. He drags his tongue over your face, licking your hot tears. Sobs jostle your frame.
“Oliver, please,” you repeat.
He shushes you, framing your chin. His thumb follows the outline of your bottom lip, bleeding and swollen from all his rough kisses. 
“Stop fighting it. Be a good girl.” He showers tender pecks across your collarbone before softly whispering against your temple, “Or I’ll tell Felix everything. That you came onto me, begging me to fuck you.” His devilish smile sears into your skin. “I’ll tell him what a good little slut you were for me.”
Your stomach drops. Oliver collects your tears with his fingertips. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, emitting a throaty moan at the taste of your despair. He then dips those same fingers in your mouth, his pelvis snapping into yours.
“It’s beautiful, how much you love him,” Oliver mumbles, growing harder inside you as a fresh wave of tears brim beneath your lashes. “You’re beautiful. I can see why he always comes back.” He rests his forehead against yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. 
“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself when this is all done.”
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The awakening in the early morning is rude, the wicked headache and ache in your limbs reminding you of last night’s events right away. Strips of sunlight sneak between the curtains, caressing your face. The usually pleasant warmth does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Your stomach clenches as you peer at your side. Oliver’s completely naked, only wearing the silver chain always around his neck. His arm is lazily spread over your belly. You don’t dare move, fearing he’ll wake up. 
What would you even say?
This is a disaster. You somehow ended up in Oliver’s room and…had sex with him. 
You swallow a shaky sob as your gaze travels low. Your panties are torn, which you didn’t notice last night. At least your clothes can still be worn, lying in a messy heap at the bottom of the bed. Carefully, you writhe your way out of Oliver’s hold and grab your clothes. 
You hastily put your skirt and shirt back on, trying not to cry when you realize you’re going to have to walk back to your dorm without your knickers. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 
You toss a glance behind you, relieved when you find him still sleeping soundly. 
You climb off the bed. Your heart leaps when the mattress squeaks as you rise. 
Pulse quickening, you head for the door. 
Pain radiates through your lower body when you move. You stagger the rest of the way, constantly tugging on your short skirt as you pray not to encounter any strong gust of wind on the way back.
Before leaving,  you look back. 
Oliver’s still sprawled on his side on the bed but his eyes are wide open now. 
No word leaves his mouth as he studies you in silence.
A wide, lazy smile slowly unfans on his lips. 
Your blood turns to ice. Fumbling with the doorknob, you scurry outside the door.
Once you’re outside, you slam the door closed.
You dart panicked glances around the corridor. Relief fills you when you note that it’s empty. For now. It won’t be long before students start milling about.
You shamefully return to your dorm. The entire walk back, paranoia lurks at the edge of your mind. You keep wondering if every stranger you come across can tell what you did.
And you keep hoping not to run across anyone you know.
When you reach your bedroom, you lock the door. You make a beeline for the bathroom. You need a shower, expeditiously. Oliver’s smell still lingers on you. When you catch your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, you’re shocked. You approach the mirror on unsteady legs. You crane your neck, your fingertips skimming over the two puncture wounds on your neck. A cool wave ripples down your back. It’s twisted. You feel like a character in a Polidori’s tale. Except this is reality somehow.
The one where you have to face the fact that you shagged your boyfriend’s new friend…and you’re not even entirely sure that you wanted it. Your mind throbs as you search through your memories. You changed your mind midway through. Oliver did not care.
Oliver did not care…
The ghastly realization has you keel over the toilet bowl to empty the meagre contents of your stomach. You slump to the floor and start quivering over the bathroom floor.
A sudden knock on your door has you rising from the floor.
Your heart skips a beat when you glance through the peephole.
“F-Felix?” you stutter, panic hitting a peak inside you.
His deep voice penetrates through the door.
“Hey, can we talk?” he asks. 
He sounds heartbroken, desperate. You almost unleash a sigh. You recognize this. You’ve been there before. This is a rollercoaster you can never get off of, the thrill when you’re high up entirely too intoxicating.
“Right now is not the best time.”
He heaves out a deep sigh. You can literally picture his kicked puppy expression, even with the door between you two. Your heartstrings flutter as you lean against the door. The craving to toss yourself in his arms wars with the sizzling betrayal still sitting in the pit of your stomach.
“Fuck. Are you still mad at me?”
Swallowing the surge of tears, you reply, “No. Just feeling a bit rough. Had a tad too much to drink last night.”
“I could take care of you…”
You nibble your lip. It’s tempting. He’s done it before. Bought you pastries and showered you with kisses and cuddles until you got better. When he wants, Felix can be the perfect boyfriend. When he wants.
“No,” you say firmly. “What do you want, Felix?”
“Can’t you just let me in, just for a minute, babe?” His pleading inflection shatters your meek fences.
“The park. In two hours,” you concede. “I got microeconomics right now, can’t miss it.”
“Thank you. Thank you.”
He’s overjoyed. You can’t bear it anymore. You race back to the bathroom as another wave of queasiness engulfs your insides.
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Jittery steps lead you through the park as you rejoin him under an oak tree. You spent the last hour in class totally unfocused, your chest tight as you dreaded how this conversation would go.
“Felix,” you greet.
He wraps his arms around you. You remain still in his embrace, the distinctive scent of his cologne floating around you. You feel sick. Now it doesn’t remind you of Felix anymore.
“I really missed you.”
“Didn’t seem like it,” you mumble coolly.
His long exhale tickles your shoulder. “I know. I’m a wanker.”
“More like a selfish arsehole.”
His hold on you slackens as he draws back a little.
A look of hurt and shock covers his face. He isn’t used to you speaking to him so harshly. To him, you’ve only ever been sweet and forgiving. His brows crumple.
“I deserve that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen I… I almost did something awful last night.”
“What thing?” You fiddle with the scarf around your neck. It’s the sole last minute resort you found to conceal the mark decorating your throat.
Of course you know exactly what thing Felix is referring to. You saw it with your own eyes, that thing. If it weren’t for that, you may not be a complete wreck today.
“Doesn’t matter, cause I stopped. It’s not who I want to be anymore.” He cups your face, warm brown gaze diving into yours. “You make me better.”
Words leave your mouth without forethought.
“Who was it this time?”
He hesitates, his jaw tensing. But beneath your heavy stare, he finally caves in.
“It was Annabel.”
“Oh.”
The knife inside your chest twists. It’s one thing to know, to have seen. It’s another to hear it confirmed from your boyfriend’s own mouth. Last night wasn’t some dragged out nightmare; it was reality. When you turn your head, Felix pivots it back to him. 
Sincerity vibrates in his tone. 
“I ended up kicking her out though.” He wipes the single tear that spills down your cheek. “All I could think about was you, the entire time.” He strokes your face. “You’re the only one for me, babe. This is the last time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Fuck…” 
You spot something you never heard in Felix’s voice before. Fear. And instantly, you break. 
He leans his forehead against yours.
“I love you,” he states.
You’re dumbstruck. Those words have crossed Felix’s lips at least a thousand times. He’s said them to so many, even strangers…but never to you. 
He came close a few times, but never has he been this clear, firm, his meaning unmistakable. Butterflies swarm your stomach. 
“I love you,” he repeats.
Felix plants a feverish kiss on your lips, leaving them tingling when he releases you. 
“I love you too,” you whisper as your hot breaths mingle.
A sunny smile breaks out on his face.
“No more lies from now on.”
A sinking feeling spreads through you, but you ignore it, returning his smile.
“No more lies,” you echo. Guilt eats at you the second you utter the words.
Felix’s attention veers from you as he waves at someone behind you.
“Hey, Ollie,” he shouts.
The air around you plummets to a few degrees. You go still against Felix, nudging a shaky smile onto your lips.
“I need to go to class,” you chime. 
You don’t even turn around, his presence alone sending your senses into alert.
Confusion scrunches Felix’s features.
“Your next class isn’t for another hour.”
You pat his chest, willing yourself to sound more cheerful than you feel.
“Just got some studying to catch up on beforehand.”
Felix’s fingers cling to yours as you try to leave. 
“I’ll see you tonight at the pub?”
“Sure.”
He doesn’t let you go until you give him another lengthy kiss. You’re uncomfortable, the weight of a certain somebody’s stare drilling holes into your back.
Things recede to relative normalcy, in some ways better than before, and in others worse. Better because of your relationship with Felix. It improves tremendously. He dotes on you more than he ever has, showering you with gifts and small attentions.
Worse because he’s still there, his unsettling presence the dark cloud over your rekindled romance. Each time you’re forced to be around him, there’s a knowing, smug glint dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips skywards. Perpetual fright eclipses your happiness, all because of Oliver Quick.
What if he told Felix everything? This was a mistake and you’re fairly sure you tried to stop it. You still have nightmares about that night, the way he held you down and wrapped his hand around your neck, stealing your air and ability to defend yourself.
You were helpless. Even letting Felix touch you is hard now, the memory of what Oliver did to you seeping through the cracks whenever you expect it least.
He branded you. And while the marks on your body may have faded, the ones engraved on your soul won’t vanish so easily.
It’s a blessing when Felix finally grows bored with him. You have no idea how it occurred. You simply know that they seem stitched at the hip for months then, suddenly, Oliver is gone. Felix shows up at group meetups without him and stops mentioning him altogether.
As if he took an eraser and wiped him from existence. Just like he did to Eddie back in the day.
You’re relieved…for an ephemeral while alas.
Oliver’s dad's abrupt passing changes everything overnight. 
Once more, Felix feels the need to be Oliver’s knight in shining armor. 
And once more the two of them are inseparable. Two peas in a pod.
You elect to take some distance. While you understand that Felix wants to help him, it doesn’t mean you have to. Thankfully, with summer fastly approaching, you won’t have to bear with Oliver Quick for much longer.
As usual, James and Elspeth urged you to come spend the summer at Saltburn, particularly Elspeth who couldn’t stop gushing about what a gorgeous couple you and Felix are. And while you may have tried to decline every other year, finding his family to be an awful lot, this year is different. This year, more than ever before, you long for an escape. 
Even the pits of hell would be a suitable vacation spot if it meant not having to run across Oliver Quick for two whole months. 
It’s a thrilling prospect. These days you can’t be around Felix as much because being around him means being around Oliver, and you just can’t do it. You look forward to having your boyfriend all to yourself. All day long, you dream about lazy afternoons by the pool and cloud-gazing in the grassy fields.
These are the balmy thoughts floating through your mind as you return to your dorm that day after classes end. A carefree smile decorates your face. You can’t wait to finish packing your suitcase. You saved every penny from your part-time job to buy a new swimsuit. And while it made a small dent in your savings, imagining Felix’s face the first time he’ll see you in it makes the tiny sacrifice worth it. 
But the smile on your lips dies when you cross the door to your bedroom. Your jaw drops, the stack of books in your hands crashing to the floor with a loud thud.
“What are you doing here?” you whisper. You shrink against the door, maintaining as wide a distance as the small room allows.
Oliver doesn’t even spare you a glance, casually lying on your bed with one knee bent like it’s his.
“Your taste in books. A bit of a letdown I gotta say, luv,” he says, flipping the yellowed pages of one of your favourite novels.
You lick your lips. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad…but you can’t be here.” He doesn’t leave your bed, engulfed in his reading. Your brows knit. “Get out of my room, Oliver,” you repeat, folding your arms as you approach the bed.
His cobalt gaze finally settles on you. He places the book on the night table, slow and unhurried as he gets to his feet.
Your pulse soars as he inches closer.
“Or what? You’ll scream?” he challenges. He circles you, gauging you in a way that summons a picture of a lion stalking its prey in your head. Your blood curdles when Oliver’s breath caresses your nape. “Then you’ll have to explain what I’m doing in your room and make a scene.” His voice lowers to a taunting rasp. “Do you want to make a scene?”
Your voice comes out shaky. “What do you want?”
Oliver takes a deep breath while placing his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs trace a slow path along the column of your neck. His lips graze your earshell.
“I want you to come over here, lie on this bed and spread your legs like a good girl for me.” You suck in a sharp breath. His fingers drag down your arm as he adds, “I’m feeling…peckish.”
When you don’t move, he releases a deep sigh. 
“...Or I can tell Felix everything.”
Your heart starts hammering in your chest. “What?” you exhale, spinning to face him. 
Oliver smiles. 
“You guys are great right now. He says you’re the best you’ve ever been. No more lies. No more secrets.” Oliver bends close to you, his smile expanding. “How do you think he’ll react when I tell him that we fucked…” He pauses and you hold your breath. “And that you’ve lied to him about your family this entire year.” 
Goosebumps spread across your flesh. You stumble back, your eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. “H-How do you know about that?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, Oliver takes small steps forward, causing you to retreat until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He places his hands on each side of you. His  gaze traces the motion of your neck as you swallow the lump in your throat.
“I…It’s not the right time of the month right now,” you lamely offer. 
Oliver’s blue eyes rise as he sinks to his knees in front of you. Tingles bounce over your skin as he rolls your plaid skirt up your thighs.
“And you think it’s something I’m worried about?”
A moan tears from your throat when he buries two fingers inside your core without a warning.
“From now on when I tell you to spread your legs for me, you do as I say,” Oliver informs, his fingers curving inside you. You choke on your breath. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you understand?” The threat laced in his tone scatters ice in your veins.
“Y-Yes.”
“Yes, Oliver,” he corrects.
“Yes…Oliver,” you sputter, legs tensing as his digits reach deeper inside you.
“I’m sure it’ll be a summer to remember.”
Between uneven breaths, you stammer, “W-What do you mean?”
He strokes under your thigh absently.
“Oh didn’t Felix tell you?” He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “I’ve been invited to Saltburn, as a guest.”
When Oliver leans away, he’s smiling from ear to ear. Excitement sways in his cobalt orbs as he studies your crestfallen expression. 
“I know. I’m looking forward to it too.” 
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metaphoricallymagpie · 2 months ago
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most to least favorite of the adult characters in mphfpc (of the ones you recall, i know the second trilogy introduced like 70 of them and immediately forgot like 80% of them)
Oooh okay
Miss Peregrine- I just love how caring she is and how dedicated she is to what she does. It is so clear that she cares so deeply about all of her children. I also find her relationship with her siblings really interesting and I would love to explore it more
Caul- I know he's the villain but he just such a good one! he's so ridiculous and goofy, and the contrast of that with the severity of his actions makes a much more terrifying villain
Myron Bentham- I know that this list is very Bentham sibling heavy but I really find them to be the most fascinating adult characters in the books. I really just find Bentham's actions really interesting and I wish we could know more about his motivations
Velya- SUCH a badass, I so wish that we could have heard more about the Hollow hunters because I think their dynamic would have been so interesting!
H- same with Velya, he's funny and I love how he has a hollow as a pet
Miss Cuckoo- I love how she is described to dress and she seems to be a very good leader, I also just really love her relationship with Miss P
Abe- I'm putting him in this one too because I hate him so much :)
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aaronburrdaily · 2 years ago
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July 25, 1809
Couche 1. Lev. at 8. At 10 to Jacobi’s. Y: Luders and another. Asked Jacobi to call on me at 4, which he promised. To the Comtesse Aurore de Gyllanstolphe; out. You will think this a hard name for a beautiful woman. Neè Geer de Finspång, where is a sister said to be more beautiful than herself. Thither I was invited. Thither la Comtesse goes on Thursday; about 150 English miles. Home. At 1, though called a warm day, walked to the mineral springs au Parc to see Hosack. He complained of being weak and unwell. Laughed at him and made him walk with me home, two and a half miles. Fillibonk for dinner. Read two hours in Bentham. To General d’Helvig’s at 7; out. Home by way of Kong. Garden, where a band of music and much monde.¹ Jacobi came at 5. The watch can neither be sold nor repaired here. Guineas are 8*/£ rix dollars Rexelt cash, which is about 22 per cent, above par. Hosack changed his last eight to-day. No letters, nor have I written one since being in Stockholm save the single short one to Achaud on business. I have fifty projects of journeys, all embryos and will be all abortions. No letter. Changed 1 guinea to-day; 8 1/2 rix dollars. Paid H. 2 rix dollars 21 sch. in full. The residue shall last me a week. To-day a Russian messenger arrived. The preliminaries, before Russia will even treat, are: 1. that the Prince of ———, the Emperor's brother-in-law, be declared successor to the throne; 2. the cession of Finland; 3. that the ports be shut against Great Britain. I have never spoken to you of politics, because I have personally no hand in them, which will be reason enough for you, and for twenty other good reasons. We have every few days news of the advance of the Russian army towards us; then contradicted. Victories and defeats equally false. Bonaparte one day vanquished, the next victor; sometimes wounded or killed. Here are French parties and English parties. The former predominate, but nothing of our violence. Calm; tranquil. The troops in town (here) are all embarking on some expedition; supposed (indeed known) to aid the army of Vride on the Gulf of Bothnia. There was a mutiny. Officers knocked down, &c.
1  People.
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theresah331 · 2 years ago
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Links for Coyote summer
Coyote Summer
Historical figures Jim Bridger https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Bridger https://www.britannica.com/biography/Jim-Bridger http://xroads.virginia.edu/~Hyper/HNS/Mtmen/jimbrid.html https://www.americanhistorycentral.com/entries/jim-bridger/ Peter Ranne https://reaganproject.com/2021/02/21/mountain-man-peter-ranne-the-first-black-american-in-california/ Hugh Glass https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hugh_Glass https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IltdI8aqy4o https://www.britannica.com/biography/Hugh-Glass Jedediah Smith https://xroads.virginia.edu/~Hyper/HNS/Mtmen/jedesmith.html https://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-jedediahsmith/ https://www.britannica.com/biography/Jedediah-Smith Captain Thomas Fitzpatrick https://www.encyclopedia.com/history/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/fitzpatrick-thomas-broken-hand https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Fitzpatrick_(trapper) https://truewestmagazine.com/article/following-thomas-broken-hand-fitzpatrick/ Terms Tawiskaron http://www.native-languages.org/morelegends/flint.htm Three card Monte https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three-card_Monte Euchre https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Euchre Tribes Agaiduka https://www.sacajaweacenter.org/tag/agaidika/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northern_Shoshone Shoshone https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shoshone Online dictionary https://shoshoniproject.utah.edu/language-materials/shoshoni-dictionary/dictionary.php?filter=P Tribal Government https://easternshoshone.org/ Shoshone People https://www.britannica.com/topic/Shoshone-people Facts for kids http://www.bigorrin.org/shoshone_kids.htm Shoshone Bannock tribe https://www.sbtribes.com/ Legends of america https://www.legendsofamerica.com/na-shoshone/ Shoshone indians Utah history https://historytogo.utah.gov/uhg-first-peoples-shoshone-indians/ Philosophy Peter Abelard https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/abelard/ https://iep.utm.edu/abelard/ https://www.britannica.com/biography/Peter-Abelard *Astolobe https://www.tumblr.com/theresah331/720857242512080896?source=share Saint Anselm of Canterbury https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Anselm-of-Canterbury https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/anselm/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JugIz_zQsFg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgYBlf3UWAY Thomas Aquinas https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/aquinas/ https://iep.utm.edu/thomas-aquinas/ Jeremy Bentham https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/bentham/ https://iep.utm.edu/jeremy-bentham/ https://www.britannica.com/biography/Jeremy-Bentham Georg Hegel Hegel's Philosophy of Nature https://www.oxfordscholarlyeditions.com/display/10.1093/actrade/9780199272679.book.1/actrade-9780199272679-book-1 David hume Hume, David https://iep.utm.edu/hume/ Skepticism (David Hume) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YHfLZzS57PE PHILOSOPHY - Epistemology: Hume's Skepticism and Induction, Part 1 [HD] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-QpUrSn3cWU An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding https://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/understanding/section5/ An Enquiry concerning the principles of morals https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/An_Enquiry_Concerning_the_Principles_of_Morals https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4320/4320-h/4320-h.htm https://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/hume/section5/ Johann fichte https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/johann-fichte/\ https://iep.utm.edu/fichtejg/ Plato https://iep.utm.edu/phaedo/ Univerilitarians https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/utilitarianism-history/ https://www.webpages.uidaho.edu/ngier/309/universals.htm https://www.investopedia.com/terms/u/utilitarianism.asp Zeno http://philonotes.com/2023/04/zeno-of-citiums-philosophy Why do we love? A philosophical inquiry - Skye C. Cleary https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJSiUm6jvI0 Theories of Love in the Ancient World https://library.missouri.edu/specialcollections/exhibits/show/science-of-love/theories-of-love-in-the-ancien
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captainseaweedbrains · 2 years ago
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obviously feel free to completely ignore this but I'm currently studying librarianship and I have a paper to write on Subscription Libraries/Reading Societies in the USA and Europe during the 18th and the 19th century. Unfortunately it has been really hard to find enough material, even with the help of the libraries near me so I was just wondering do you know some good books/articles about this theme since I know that you are also a librarian. again completely understand if you can't do this I'm just desperate and thank you in advance if you do answer.
Hello, friend!
Okay, so I and a couple of my coworkers did a bit of digging and these were what we were able to find. The subscription libraries were a bit easier to find than the reading societies. As I am unclear on what exactly your thesis is focusing on, hopefully these will help.
The first place I would honestly start is Wikipedia and going straight down to their reference section. Wikipedia is also a GREAT source--don't let educators say otherwise! In my reference class in library school it was thoroughly discussed how Wikipedia is a legit source.
The next place I would look is JSTOR. It is great and I lived there throughout my time in undergrad and when getting my Masters. I would also see if your school and public libraries are part of an Inter-Library Loan (ILL) program. You can access different books and journals this way, as well!
Here are the articles we were currently able to find. Tumblr was being dumb. So I linked them via numbers. I'm also going to put it under a Read More because we got carried away:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
Here are some titles:
Books, Borrowers, and Shareholders: Scottish Circulating and Subscription Libraries Before 1825 by K. A. Manley
Jeremy Bentham has been Banned: Contention and Censorship in Private Subscription Libraries before 1825 - Library & information history, 2013, Vol.29 (3), p.170-181
The library : a fragile history / Andrew Pettegree and Arthur Der Weduwen.
McHenry, Elizabeth. 1996. "Dreaded eloquence": The origins and rise of African American literary societies and libraries. Harvard Library Bulletin 6 (2), Summer 1995: 32-56. Harris, M. H. (1995). History of libraries in the western world / Michael H. Harris. (Fourth edition.). Scarecrow Press.
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jjackrabbitt · 3 years ago
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Y’all wanna hear some stuff that maybe won’t make it into the Damned au but is still fun?? Well, you’re about to :^)
As always, some of these are @finn-nito ‘s ideas and they’re brilliant and he’s been wonderful to talk to
Devil’s Acre:
Sharon has a boyfriend. His name’s Theodore and he’s also a former ambrosia addict. He likes stealing Sharon’s rats and Sharon brings music for him from the present day and he’s very chatty.
A lot of Devil’s Acre’s residents are actually peculiar, some of them are just dead so they’re stuck in the loop too
Devil’s Acre, as with a lot of “bad” places in the Victorian era, isn’t always so bad, it just happens that there’s a lot of queer, disabled, nd, nonchristian, and nonwhite folk there.
Wights and Hollows:
Though Hollows may not consciously remember things from being human, they do like imitating things they did as humans, even if it’s just simple stuff, like drinking water from a cup
Golan doesn’t remember shit from before he was a hollow, but he’s pretty sure he knew Malthus and even though he doesn’t have his full range of emotions any more he is pretty excited for Malthus to transform so they can talk again
When Golan and Malthus are traveling Malthus sits in the back and when Golan isn’t looking he messes with the radio settings, using his tongues to do so.
Malthus likes chewing on things (like the couch) with no intention to eat them, and making lots of noise.
Mal makes lots of chittering and humming noises. Not to try and communicate or anything, he just likes to.
Malthus has a set of plastic cups for him to drink from, but he discovered that they make sounds when thrown, so he throws them for fun or out of frustration
The cups are rainbow colours.
Golan calls Malthus “Mal”
When Horatio was a hollow, H taught him how to say some simple words. He pretty much had the vocabulary of a 2-3 year old, and his speech wasn’t great but it was understandable. The other hollow hunters were really proud of him for learning and got excited when he said anything. Some of them (Velya, mostly) did take advantage of him learning words to teach him swears and suddenly every word had “fuck” in front of it. Some people also taught him that he got better snacks when he said swears, so it continued until H had to intervene because he started talking in public too and H couldn’t explain why there was a strange disembodied voice saying “Fuck, feed me”
Hollows try to eat anything and everything and will go after whatever food is being prepared in front of them. A lot of wights have given in and just gotten used to making food with a hollow draped over them because he’s both pouting about not being allowed food and actively trying to steal some.
Jack Bentham:
After he became a wight and got his fortress all set up, he used his free time to do some minor experiments on himself at see how his new body worked, he has some scars from it
Some times passes out in the middle of the experiments, leaving Percy to clean him and his mess up
Percival Murnau:
Was one of Miss Blackbirds wards
She found him when he was 15
Diversity win! This serial killer is a transgender man and bisexual 😌
When he was little he didn’t like talking a lot, so just made weird noises at people
Isn’t always great at being affectionate with words/physical touch, so he makes things for Jack and brings him presents
Never really liked Myron and they used to bicker a lot, when the claywings were a thing
Is a shape shifter. He can change who he looks like as long as A) they’re humanoid and B) he’s seen them.
Can only maintain a different face for so long, and the first thing of him to change back is always his freckles
Used to disguise himself as an Ymbrynne and sneak into their meetings to gather information
Bentham Siblings:
Didn’t used to hate each other, and while Jack and Alma never got along super well, they did used to be amiable and not have murderous feelings towards each other
Myron used to be friends with Alma as well as Jack
When they were older, but still at the ymbrynne academy, Alma and Myron would have “bathtub time”. They went to one of their bathrooms and sat in the tub and smoked and talked. The baths were chosen because no one came in a bathroom without permission, cigarettes were contraband at the academy, and they were easy to wash the ashes out of if they spilled.
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shadow-cooper · 4 years ago
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I’ve been thinking about Horatio a lot more now that I’m rereading the series (yes, again lol).
SPOILERS BELOW! If you haven’t finished TDODA, don’t read further!
______
Can we all take a moment to appreciate him? Cuz I feel like he’s a character deserving of it and I haven’t seen much regarding him in the fandom.
He’s badass in every sense of the word. Like, he took a Wights FACE, made it his own, and infiltrated his old comrades with it. Like…that’s pretty metal right there. He’s nice, generally polite, funny (he told Enoch that he’d slap him with all his tongues if he still had them LOL), and is determined to protect Noor and Jacob, while making sure the prophecy was fulfilled.
This makes me wonder why he even joined the Claywings in the first place. We find out from V in chapter 13 (pg. 248), that he was once Caul’s right hand man. He probably lost that position when he became H’s companion. It’s likely that Murnau took his place in his absence.
The man has definitely been redeemed, mostly because H gave him the chance. H taught him how to use his mind, and taught him how to read and understand English. That allowed Horatio to think of other things besides the constant emptiness, hunger, and the general torture he went through while still a Hollow.
“We may be damned but we are not unredeemable” (pg. 331). And oh boy, what a redemption it was.
I just…I just love the pretty boy ok?! 😭
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hollywoodnewssource · 6 years ago
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Romance Class Authors Share Their February Book Recommendations
Happy Valentine’s Day to our lovely readers! Today Romance Class authors would be sharing their book recommendations perfect for romance readers this month of February.  Right now, Hollywood News Source are patiently waiting for the release of A Prince on Paper: Reluctant Royals by Alyssa Cole and Kiss and Cry by Mina V. Esguerra while I marathon CRIMINAL INTENTIONS…
Romance Class Authors Share Their February Book Recommendations was originally published on Hollywood News Source
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moral rationalisation slides but it's just a gif of me filling my bauer inlines with forbidden candy (pirastro rosin) and saying fuck it, self care it is!
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faynotfaye · 8 years ago
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[Blog Tour] Summer Feels: A #romanceclass Anthology
Summer Feels Blog Tour!
Summer Feels: A #romanceclass Anthology Publication Date: April 30, 2017 Genre: Romance Amazon │ Paperback (PH only) Goodreads Summary: Summer loving happens so fast, as you’ll find with Summer Feels, an anthology of 23 stories of love under the summer sun by #romanceclass authors. Savor the candied thrill of firsts—first loves, first kisses, first solo vacations—and the bittersweet triumph of…
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jeffreybower · 6 months ago
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Ron Reads Comfortable and Familiar by H. Bentham
Yes, I know this is almost a decade (!) old but there hasn’t been a lot of videos of same-sex readings for #romanceclass books, okay? Which is not their fault! Continue reading Ron Reads Comfortable and Familiar by H. Bentham
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pub-lius · 3 years ago
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Do you have any facts about Aaron Burr? I just relized I know very little about him, besides the fact that he accedentally set himself on fire once.
Man, as much as I love Burr, i don't actually know that much about him. Yet. But i will share a few fun facts that i have accumulated and/or googled. (most of these are from memory so don't quote me on the accuracy of this)
Burr had a bunch of different jobs, including being a dentist, but at one point when he was a kid, he ran away to be a sailor, and (i think it was) his uncle chased him and he climbed up the mast and screamed.
His mom called him nasty
Mf was super gay. He kept a journal of all his bad financial decisions, and one time he was just like "i entertained myself with a dude 😏" and that was very tmi. Also his relationship with Jeremy Bentham was sus af, so sus that i have an unfinished fic about them.
He was much more feminist than his contemporaries, and his wife was really smart, and they often talked about politics and shit together. But one time Burr called her stupid lolz. Emphasis on one time tho, bc Theodosia could body slam that tiny little bastard (idk why im so vulgar today lol. Maybe its the spirit of Burr 😩). But also one time he read a feminist writing (Mary Wollstonecraft's A Vindication of the Rights of Woman) and when no one else liked it, he said, "Is it owing to ignorance or prejudice that I have not yet met a single person who had discovered or would allow the merit of this work?" Get it, king.
He had special cigars made for him. AND HE FUCKING LOVED GRAPES. He once ate i think four pounds a day???? It was weird af and gave me a crisis but its fine. Also he tried to use nasty ass grape juice as coffee sweetner and was very dramatic about it.
H- HE HAS SMUTTY FANFICTION DATING BACK TO 1861????? I'm learning too much, this is why i don't read Burr's letters
His first marriage wasn't actually planned. So basically he was seeing Theodosia Prevost for a while, but she wanted to wait to make a commitment. Then her sister was getting married and she invited Burr and her family was like "lets just get it fucking over with" and so they had a double wedding :)
He also loved his daughter and that is my favorite thing about him. He cared for her so much and i cry every time. When he was totally dating Jeremy Bentham, he tried really hard to get her to like him. It really gives me the same vibes as a parent trying to get their kid to like their new stepparent and I'm SOBBING i love them
I'll consult my old notes when i get home to try to find anything else interesting. Also for further reading, here's the article i used for reference, that gives more detail on some of the facts, and the britannica article on him for spice. I hope this helps, and thanks for the ask!!!
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aaronburrdaily · 2 years ago
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July 11 [sic], 1809
Note: Burr fucks up the dates and it takes him a few days to figure it out. Post scheduled on the day it happened.
Couche at 1/2 p. 12. Lev. at 1/2 p. 9. Ayant dormi profondement toutes les 9 heures. Bian la vielle Anna m’appelloit a 6. Je l’ai repondu sans rn’eveiller.¹ Dressed and got breakfast with all possible dispatch expecting young Gahn who was to call at 10. Hereusement² it was near 11 when he called. We went to several booksellers, but the laws of Sweden in Latin are not to be found. To the post-office; no letters!! At 1 called on Jacobi about the ring; out. On Dr. Gahn to get the address of Engerström,—a son excellence Mon’r le Baron d'Engerström, principal secretaire d'etat pour les affaires etrangers, chev’r des ordres.³ Chez moi at 2. Read an hour in Catteau's “Sweden” to refresh my memory about the civil administration so that I may question all my acquaintances. At 1/2 p. 3 to some booksellers. At Ulrick’s; sa fille tres jo.⁴ Found Bentham's “Principes.⁵” Home at 1/2 p. 4. Fillibonk⁶ pr. dine. Dom.⁷ de Helvig came in to beg me to tea and pass the evening. Tres volunt. for M’lle Miriam m’interesse beaucoup. Aussi sa soeur, Madame H.⁸ They both paint in oil and colours in a very superior style. Walked with them an hour au jardin du roy⁹ (Vauxhall). Returned to soupè. Tres bi servi. Comblè honete. Y: Colonel ———; Mr. ———; Me. ———, qui poursuit Gam.¹⁰ Home at 1/2 p. 11.
1  Bian is for bienque. Having slept soundly the entire nine hours. Although old Anna called me at 6, I answered her without waking. (Je lui ai, etc.) 2  Fortunately. 3  To his Excellency Baron d’Engerstrom, Chief Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs; chevalier or knight of the orders. 4  His daughter, very pretty (jolie). 5  “Principles.” 6  The fifth mode of spelling the word. 7  Helvig’s servant, (domestique). 8  Volunt. for volontiers, willingly. Very willingly, for Mademoiselle Miriam interests me greatly. Also her sister, Madame H. 9  In the Royal Garden. 10  Returned to supper; very well served. Overwhelmed with courtesy (comblé d’honnêteté). There were there Colonel ———; Mr. ———; Madame ———, who is pursuing Gamp.
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trainwrecksys · 3 years ago
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What a teenage/young adult bentham would look like to me
He is very connected with nature due to living in/near Derbyshire his entire young life until he moved to London (I decided this since Derbyshire is where Ms Avocet's loop is from looking at the wiki) and he was very interested in poetry and tried often to write his own based on nature, often using one of his own feathers as a quill (he was interested in the earlier works of William Wordsworth and even once stole a little rowboat alone to go out for a little nighttime drift inspired by The Prelude) though if he is or isn't good at it is upto interpretation (but he would be f l a b b e r g h a s t e d if he'd heard Millard's remark that he wasn't a good poet in the conference of the birds)
With his moving to the academy he got more interested in machinery and all of the technicalities of it, and with his knowledge in drawing from doing many little diagrams of plants and bugs and sketches of landscapes and houses he easily got into drawing up blueprints, even though it was a different type of drawing
When he moved to London, he got even more fixated on it and geography along the way, and with his collaboration with Jack on smaller projects and then his almost independent invention of the Panloopticon they became two very productive pioneers, explorers and inventors. The rest is... known
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If you can't tell I've been thinking about this for a little while lol
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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years ago
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Tues[day] 17 June 1823
8 50/60
12    
D[o]wn to br[eak]f[a]st at 10 35/60. Went to my uncle tolerably this morning for the first time since I left home to do
much good which has made me all along feel rather feverish. We call[e]d on Mrs Sutcliffe. Mr S- [Sutcliffe] seems the
less vulg[a]r of the 2 - b[u]t they are a sad[l]y vulg[a]r coup[le] we saw one of their child[re]n - he spo[ke] br[oa]d Yorksh[ire] - the room
dirty and litter[e]d, and untidy past descript[io]n. Mrs Peart n[o]t at all like a gent[le]wom[a]n, unless
wh[e]n compare[e]d w[i]th Mrs Sutcliffe - a good sort of pers[o]n - h[e]r house a ver[y] good one, and beaut[ifull]y near - a
ver[y] nice gard[e]n and greenhouse int[o] w[hi]ch she shew[e]d us - ver[y] civ[i]l - h[e]r d[au]ght[e]r, Mrs Robins[o]n, Mrs W.P. [William Priestley]’s partic[ula]r
fr[ie]nd, is an attorney’s wife in the town - h[e]r fath[e]r ga[ve] up the bus[ine]ss to his son-in-law, the bank at Settle
being a bet[ter] thing - he is ver[y] rich - buys a gr[ea]t deal of land. Mrs Robins[o]n n[o]t partic[ularl]y like a gent[le]wom[a]n
b[u]t shines am[on]g such as Mrs Sutcliffe and perh[aps] ev[e]n Mrs Peart - st[oo]d ab[ou]t 10 min[ute]s w[i]th Mrs S- [Sutcliffe] and 20 w[i]th Mrs P- [Peart] and g[o]t back
to the Inn at 12 40/60. They h[a]d all s[ai]d Weathercote, the cave at Chap[e]l-in-the-dale, w[a]s the prett[ie]st thing in the
who[le] neighb[ourhoo]d - we therefo[re] determ[ine]d to go to Inglet[o]n and were off at 1 55/60 and at 4 1/2 stopt at the Bayhorse
(a pot horse) 10 1/4 m[ile]s - ord[ere]d din[ner] and beds. Pret[ty] dri[ve] - excel[len]t r[oa]d b[u]t hilly - Arswick §, a pret[ty] situat[e]d
vil[lage] on our right, soon aft[e]r we h[a]d pass[e]d Mr Walkins[o]n’s house, a ver[y] poor, whitewash[e]d concern, at a
sh[or]t dist[an]ce to the left, ab[ou]t 3 m[ile]s fr[om] Settle. Claph[a]m, 3 1/2 m[ile]s fr[om] Ingleton, a ver[y] pret[ty] vil[lage], the prett[ie]st we ha[ve] seen. Claph[a]m
lodge a tol[erabl]y handso[me] look[in]g  mod[er]n house - surround[e]d w[i]th fir, Scotch and larch, plantat[io]ns - good r[oa]d b[u]t ver[y] hilly
high rock all along on our right - the width of the valley is on the left. Ingleton a tol[erabl]y neat whitewash[e]d
vil[lage] - neat ch[ur]ch. H[a]d scarce[l]y swall[owe]d my din[ner] b[u]t hav[in]g g[o]t a guide, James Greenwood (past the mid[dle] age
I sh[oul]d th[i]nk) set off w[i]th h[i]m to walk to the top of Inglebro’ at 6 5/60 - at the top at 7 35/60 - d[o]wn at
the slate quarry in 1 5/60 h[ou]r - belongs to Mr Hornby of Kirkh[a]m as lord of the Manor - b[ou]ght it of Mr Parker
of Browsholme, who b[ou]ght it of the broth[e]r of Mrs Serjeants[o]n (I suppo[se] of Camphill) Gooch, I th[in]k - his fath[e]r left
h[i]m the manor w[i]th all right to mines and min[era]ls exc[e]pt coals - these he separate[e]d fr[om] the manor, and left to his
d[au]ght[e]r Mrs Serjeants[o]n, and she ‘turns out a bet[ter] fortune than h[e]r broth[e]r’ - 8 or 9 men employ[e]d at the quarry -
the slate goes by land car[ria]ge to Gargrave, there shipp[e]d on the canal - the quarry on the left bank of the
Greta a m[ile] fr[om] Ingleton. Mr Hornby h[a]s a large flax mil, super intend[e]d by a neph[ew] of his, at Bentham -
employs there a thous[an]d hands - g[o]t a specim[e]n or 2 at the quarry - ho[me] ag[ai]n at 9 40/60, in 1/4 h[ou]r fr[om] the quarries - all done by
blast[in]g - it is the cheap[e]st way - 4 long miles to the top of Inglebro’ - walk[e]d it in 1 35/60 - r[ou]nd by the quarries made it 4 1/2
m[ile]s back - walk[e]d all r[ou]nd the top of Inglebro’ - s[ai]d to be a mile - w[e]nt upst[ai]rs to bed at 11 1/4. Ver[y]  fine day. E 0.
§ Mon[day] 14 July 1823 - this Mrs W[illia]m Priestley told me the oth[e]r day, w[a]s consid[ere]d the prett[ie]st vil[lage], and Clapham the 2[n]d prett[ie]st.
Beaut[iful] prosp[ec]t fr[om] Inglebro’ - the m[oun]t[ai]n was quite clear at the top, b[u]t unfort[unatel]y it w[a]s rath[er]
thick in the valleys, and my view w[a]s m[u]ch imped[e]d tho’ still ver[y] fine.
Ingleton.  
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