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zanazirafanfic · 1 month

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25DCC Chapter 13 "Getting Anxious for Christmas" (Preview)

Hello, all! I promise this fic isn't abandoned, and I am *finally* getting somewhere with this chapter after almost an entire month of the worst writer's block I've had in years! Work has been crazy the last few nights, so I didn't have as much time to finish up as I'd hoped, but I'm planning to have it up tomorrow, 3/19, at the latest!

In the meantime, as an apology, here's a little preview. Enjoy!

*~RDR~*

Lone Wolf Stead, Great Plains, WE - December 13, 1910

"And this man's name was what?"

"Cú Chulainn of Muirthemne. He was an Irish warrior," Jack answered. He was only half paying attention to the conversation, thoroughly engrossed in his book while he lay stretched out on his stomach in the back of the wagon. "In this chapter he's defending the kingdom of Ulster from Queen Medb of Connacht's army. She's trying to invade and steal King Conchobar mac Nessa's prized bull, Donn Cúailnge, after she put all his other soldiers under a curse so they can't fight."

John blinked, just taking all of that in for a moment. "You... How did you even get all those names outta your mouth in one go?"

Jack shrugged, turning to the next page with a tiny grin. "I dunno. Just... comes easy to me, I guess."

The elder Marston blew out a slow breath and shook his head. "Well you're a helluva lot smarter than me, that's for sure. Maybe you oughta drive the wagon while I read that book of yours for a while - I clearly need to 'broaden my horizons' some more."

"He's smarter than both of us," Abigail said proudly, turning around to look at him.

Jack hunched deeper into his book, his face flushing pink in embarrassment. "That's... I'm not..." He never knew quite how to respond when his parents said things like that, and it usually just got him flustered instead. He suspected that was half of why they did it, actually.

John and Abigail exchanged a fond smile with one another, and John huffed a quiet laugh as he snapped the reins to urge the wagon horses into a faster trot.

The three of them were on their way over to Lone Wolf Stead, planning to pay an impromptu visit to the Morgan-Smiths. John had been out to Blackwater that morning, leaving in the wagon before sunrise with their surplus milk, eggs, and wool loaded in the back to sell. When he arrived back home a couple of hours later, it was with a grin on his face and a pale cream-colored envelope clutched in his hands. There was no return address except to the post office in Annesburg, but the name "Tacitus Kilgore" was written in the upper-left corner in a messy, looping scrawl.

There was only one person - or, rather, one couple - who would still be writing letters to John under that alias after all these years, and as soon as he'd seen his father pull up to the front porch and noticed the name on the letter, Jack was scrambling into the back of the wagon, all but dragging his mother along behind him.

Aforementioned letter now was tucked securely between the back pages of his book, still unopened for the time being (no matter how tempted he was to take a quick peek). Pa and Uncle Arthur had promised each other weeks ago that whoever received word from Dutch and Hosea first would be sure to notify the other immediately, and John said he didn't feel right opening it before his brother got a chance to see it too. Jack didn't mind, though, since it gave them an excuse to visit his uncles again...

@photo1030

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfiction #prompt fic #zanazirawrites #christmas fic #jack marston #john marston #abigail roberts marston #arthur morgan #charles smith #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #john x abigail #johnigail #arthur x charles #charthur #dutch x hosea #vandermatthews #fic preview

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denimbex1986 · 10 months

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'Of all the fascinating people who came into J. Robert Oppenheimer’s life during his years at UC Berkeley, few are as intriguing — or as tragic — as Jean Tatlock, the woman some believe was the love of his life.

Oppenheimer was 25 when he arrived on the Berkeley campus in 1929 as an associate professor of physics. He moved into 2665 Shasta Road, up the windy, steep hills that flank the university. From the windows, he could see the bay.

The Shasta Road property was always lively. In the main house, Oppenheimer’s landlord Mary Ellen Washburn hosted constant parties; intellectuals roved in and out of the property, debating ideas and drinking late into the night. Oppenheimer objected to teaching before 11 a.m. so he could stay up chatting and smoking.

In the spring of 1936, Oppenheimer met a young woman named Jean Tatlock at one of these parties. He already knew her father, an acclaimed Berkeley professor of Old English; professor John Tatlock enjoyed having lunch with Oppenheimer at the Faculty Club, where Oppie, as he was known around campus, showed off his wide-ranging knowledge of literature and ability to recite passages from memory.

Jean was 22 and brilliant. She was in her first year at Stanford Medical School, studying to be a psychiatrist. This, of course, was highly unusual for a woman in the 1930s, and Tatlock made an impression. Friends and acquaintances recalled she was the type of person everyone noticed when she walked into a room. (Florence Pugh was cast as Jean Tatlock in Christopher Nolan’s “Oppenheimer” movie.)

#OPPENHEIMER will have its French premiere on July 11th at the Grand Rex in Paris. pic.twitter.com/W0o25gL6cy

— Florence Pugh Photos (@pughphotos) June 29, 2023

Oppenheimer, who loved sharp, unconventional women, fell fast. By the fall, the pair were an item, and something of an intellectual power couple. Oppenheimer was the star of the physics department, luring talent from all over the nation to join him. Tatlock was a trailblazing psychiatrist who delighted Oppenheimer with her love of poets like John Donne. “All of us were a bit jealous,” one friend recalled in “American Prometheus,” the definitive Oppenheimer biography.

Their relationship, though, was a tumultuous one. Tatlock went through periods of deep depression, and Oppenheimer was often the person who talked her through them. When she was low, so was he. “American Prometheus” detailed how Robert Serber, a nuclear physicist who met Oppenheimer at Berkeley and became one of his closest friends, watched their relationship unfold.

“He’d be depressed some days because he was having trouble with Jean,” Serber said.

Over the course of three years, they got engaged at least twice, broke things off and kept getting back together. Serber said Tatlock would cut contact with Oppenheimer for weeks or even months. When she returned, Serber said she would “taunt him about whom she had been with and what they had been doing. She seemed determined to hurt him, perhaps because she knew Robert loved her so much.”

In retrospect, it seems clear at least some of this tumult was due to Tatlock’s struggle to understand her own sexuality. In letters to friends, she expressed fear that she might be attracted to women. The thought tormented her — she was then a student of Freudian psychiatry, which maligned homosexuality as a mental defect. Torn between her genuine love for Oppenheimer and her anguished confusion, Tatlock called things off for good in 1939. A year later, Oppenheimer’s new love, a married woman named Kitty Harrison, became pregnant with his child. Her husband agreed to a divorce, and Harrison and Oppenheimer married in 1940.

When a friend asked Tatlock if she regretted not marrying Oppie, she said she did. Maybe she would have married him if she wasn’t “so mixed up,” Tatlock lamented.

But their relationship did not end — and their affair would have profound implications for both of them.

---

Between 1939 and 1943, it’s believed Oppenheimer continued seeing Tatlock several times a year. They still went to parties together in Berkeley, and at least once they got drinks at the Top of the Mark. When she was feeling low, she’d call Oppie and he’d talk to her for as long as it took to see her through the dark moment. In early 1943, he left for Los Alamos to head the Manhattan Project. No one could know the details of his work in the New Mexico desert. Oppenheimer left Tatlock without saying goodbye.

For Tatlock, who relied on Oppenheimer for support, this was a devastating abandonment. He couldn’t explain what had taken him away, and she wrote him pleading letters. By then, she had become a doctor at Mount Zion Hospital in San Francisco (today, it’s part of the UCSF campus). It was an incredible feat of determination in the male-dominated field, but despite her professional success, loved ones knew that Tatlock was not well.

On June 14, 1943, Oppenheimer flew from Los Alamos to see her. Unbeknownst to him, he was being tailed by military officers. In their report to the FBI, they said they watched Oppenheimer take the train from Berkeley to San Francisco, “where he was met by Jean Tatlock who kissed him.” They went to Xochimilco, a Mexican restaurant on Powell and Broadway, and had dinner and drinks. Then, they went back to her top floor apartment at 1405 Montgomery St., a pretty block tucked right underneath Coit Tower. With the spies watching from the street below, the lights went out at 11:30 p.m.

The next morning, Oppenheimer emerged from the flat. They had one last meal together at Kit Carson’s Grill before Tatlock drove him to the airport. He hopped a flight back to New Mexico, and she went home. Soon, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover had a report about their meeting in his hands.

Both were already on his radar. For much of Tatlock’s adult life, she had been a dues-paying, meeting-attending communist. She even wrote for the Communist Party’s official West Coast publication, the Western Worker. Hoover, with his characteristic paranoia, became convinced Tatlock might be passing nuclear secrets to the Soviets. “It has been determined that Jean Tatlock … has become the paramour of an individual possessed of vital secret information regarding this nation’s war effort,” Hoover wrote in a memo. He had the phone in Tatlock’s Montgomery Street apartment tapped.

There is no evidence Tatlock was any sort of spy, or that she even knew what Oppenheimer was doing at Los Alamos. In 1954, when Oppenheimer was interrogated over accusations he was a Communist sympathizer, he was asked why he flew to see Tatlock in 1943. “Because,” he answered, “she was still in love with me.”

Tatlock’s mental health deteriorated further in the months after their meeting. Around the start of the new year 1944, Tatlock stopped answering her phone. Fearing the worst, her father drove to her apartment on Jan. 4, 1944. He had to climb through an open window to get inside. There, he found his daughter in the bathtub. Jean Tatlock was dead. She was just 29.

Immediately after finding her, her father did an odd thing: He lit a fire and burned her letters and photos. A few hours later, he finally called a funeral parlor. That funeral parlor called police, who arrived at 1405 Montgomery to find a dead woman and a pile of burned paper. Although no one now living knows what those items were, many historians believe it may have been evidence that Tatlock was lesbian or bisexual.

Much has been made of the unusual circumstances of her death over the years, particularly because an autopsy found she’d eaten a full meal before dying. Some believed she was murdered by the government. But Tatlock left a handwritten suicide note and endured a lifetime of clinical depression, so most who knew her best did believe she ended her own life.

Sequestered at Los Alamos, the Serbers received a cable from Oppenheimer’s former landlady at Shasta Road. It informed them that Tatlock had died the day before. Robert Serber rushed to find Oppenheimer and break the news to him before someone else did. He was too late. “Deeply grieved,” Oppenheimer went for a long, solitary walk in the hills surrounding Los Alamos.

“Jean was Robert’s truest love,” Serber said. “He loved her the most. He was devoted to her.”

Tatlock’s family had her remains sent to Albany County, New York, where she was buried in the family plot. Her stone is simple. It reads:

Jean Frances Tatlock 21 February 1914 4 January 1944

---

In 1962, Gen. Leslie Groves, the military leader of the Manhattan Project, wrote to Oppenheimer asking why he had named the first atomic bomb test “Trinity.”

“Why I chose the name is not clear, but I know what thoughts were in my mind,�� Oppenheimer replied. “There is a poem of John Donne, written just before his death, which I know and love.”

The poem he quoted was called “Hymn to God, My God, in My Sickness.”

I joy, that in these straits I see my west; For, though their currents yield return to none, What shall my west hurt me? As west and east In all flat maps (and I am one) are one, So death doth touch the resurrection.'

#Oppenheimer #Jean Tatlock #Florence Pugh #American Prometheus #John Donne #Leslie Groves #Hymn to God My God in My Sickness

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p-isforpoetry · 8 months

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youtube

Poetry in Movies and Television: 84 Charing Cross Road

"84 Charing Cross Road is a 1987 British-American drama film directed by David Jones, and starring Anne Bancroft, Anthony Hopkins, Judi Dench, Mercedes Ruehl, and Jean De Baer. It is produced by Bancroft's husband, Mel Brooks. The screenplay by Hugh Whitemore is based on a play by James Roose-Evans, which itself is an adaptation of the 1970 epistolary memoir of the same name by Helene Hanff — a compilation of letters between Hanff and Frank Doel dating from 1949 to 1968. The film garnered mainly positive reviews from critics, as well as receiving numerous industry awards and nominations. Bancroft won the BAFTA Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role for her portrayal of Hanff. Additionally, Dench was nominated for the BAFTA Award for Best Actress in a Supporting Role, and Whitemore for Best Adapted Screenplay. Dench has said that 84 Charing Cross Road is one of her favourite films in which she has appeared. The film has become something of a cult classic among bibliophiles and epistemophiles."

Source

"He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven" by W.B. Yeats

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Meditation #17 By John Donne (1623)

"… all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another. "

#Poetry in Movies and Television #video #poem #poetry #84 Charing Cross Road #Anne Bancroft #Anthony Hopkins #Youtube

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cordeliaflyte · 1 year

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Books I enjoyed in 2022

Inspired by the legendary @gaudigf 🌷!

Memorial: an Excavation of the Iliad by Alice Oswald (read in February). Potentially the most influential poem I've ever read + where my blog title comes from! Just look at the scene of Hector's death:

And HECTOR died like everyone else

He was in charge of the Trojans

But a spear found out the little patch of white

Between his collarbone and his throat

Just exactly where a man’s soul sits

Waiting for the mouth to open

He always knew it would happen

He who was so boastful and anxious

And used to nip home deafened by weapons

To stand in full armour in the doorway

Like a man rushing in leaving his motorbike running

All women loved him

His wife was Andromache

One day he looked at her quietly

He said I know what will happen

And an image stared at him of himself dead

And her in Argos weaving for some foreign woman

He blinked and went back to his work

Hector loved Andromache

But in the end he let her face slide from his mind

He came back to her sightless

Strengthless expressionless

Asking only to be washed and burned

And his bones wrapped in soft cloths

And returned to the ground

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh (reread in March). This shaped my identity fundamentally. A wonderful intermingling of comedy and tragedy.

Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison (read in April). My favourite Toni Morrison! A touch of magic realism. No-one names characters as skilfully as Morrison.

The Iliad as translated by Caroline Alexander (read in May). What is there to say even.

The Horse, the Wheel, and Language by David W. Anthony (read in May). Genuinely fascinating read about the spread of Proto-Indo-European. Would recommend it wholeheartedly!

The Old Arcadia by Philip Sidney (read in July). Bucolics + cross-dressing, what's not to love?

Fun Home by Alison Bechdel (reread in September). Wonderfully constructed familial bonds.

Devotions on Emergent Occasions and Death's Duel by John Donne (read in September). So much rot and putrefaction!

Dancing in Odessa & Deaf Republic by Ilya Kaminsky (read back to back in October). Mesmerizing poetry collections would recommend wholeheartedly.

The Absolutist by John Boyne (read in November). Your typical WW1 drama. The first page was crafted in a lab to enthral me. A traumatized man returns from the trenches haunted by his dead best friend who he had an ambiguous relationship with on a train to return letters said friend had received from his sister… When I saw this premise I gasped because I am 100% earnest this has been one of my little daydream scenarios for years.

Selected Poems by Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Susan Ranson and Marielle Sutherland, read in November). Got it for a friend's birthday but naturally had to read it as well to ensure quality. Especially enchanted by the Duino Elegies.

Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake (read in December). And recommended by Medli Gaudigf! Mushrooms. Written in a beautiful and informative way.

Poet in New York by Federico García Lorca (translated by Greg Simon and Stephen F. White, read in December). Got this for my birthday :) my first Lorca, gifted by a friend who knew I wanted to get into him, influenced by my infatuation with Leonard Cohen. Beautiful. This edition also includes some letters to his family, they're sparkling and witty and filled with warmth.

All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque (translated by Arthur Wesley Wheen, read in December) read on a flight. More dying horribly in the trenches :D.

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boldlycrookedsalad · 3 months

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Literary Canon (from kissgrammar)

The Holy Bible, Authorized King James Version [At a minimum, the books of Genesis, Exodus, Job, Psalms, from the Old Testament; Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Apocalypse from the New.] Whether or not you are Christian is irrelevant. The civilization in which we live is based on and permeated by the ideas and values expressed in this book. Understanding our civilization, the world in which we live, is probably impossible without having read -- and thought about -- at least the most famous books in the Bible. Historically, the King James Version is considered the most artistic, and thus has probably had the most literary influence.

Homer, The Iliad

Homer, The Odyssey

Sophocles, Oedipus the King (Oedipus Rex)

Sophocles, Antigone

Plato, The Republic, especially "The Myth of the Cave"

Ovid, Metamorphoses

Saint Augustine, The Confessions

Dante, The Divine Comedy

Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron

Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince

Giambattista Vico, Principles of a New Science

Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote

Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales

Romeo and Juliet

King Lear

Hamlet

Othello

Macbeth

John Donne, "Holy Sonnet XIV"

John Donne, "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning"

Andrew Marvell, "To His Coy Mistress"

John Milton, Paradise Lost

Jonathan Swift, Gulliver's Travels

A Modest Proposal

Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe

Laurence Sterne, The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman

Michel de Montaigne, Essays, especially "Of Experience"

Francois Rabelais, Gargantua and Pantagruel

Moliere, The Misanthrope

Blaise Pascal, Pensees

Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Emile

Voltaire, Candide

Erasmus, In Praise of Folly

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust, Parts One & Two

Honore de Balzac, Old Goriot (also translated as Pere Goriot)

Stendhal, The Red and the Black

Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

Emile Zola, Germinal

Henrik Ibsen, A Doll's House

William Blake

William Wordsworth

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Lord Byron, Don Juan

John Keats, "Ode on a Grecian Urn"

Robert Browning, "My Last Duchess"

Charles Dickens - Oliver Twist

A Tale Of Two Cities

Hard Times

A Christmas Carol

Matthew Arnold, "Dover Beach"

John Stuart Mill, On Liberty

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

Francis Thompson, "The Hound of Heaven"

Samuel Butler, Erewhon

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

George Eliot- Silas Marner

Middlemarch

Robert Louis Stevenson, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Friedrich Nietzsche - Beyond Good and Evil

The Will To Power

The Birth of Tragedy

On the Genealogy of Morals

Alexander Pushkin - Eugene Onegin

The Bronze Horseman

Nikolai Gogol -The Overcoat

Dead Souls

Mikhail Lermontov, A Hero of Our Time

Ivan Turgenev, Fathers and Sons

Fyodor Dostoevsky -Notes From the Underground

Crime and Punishment

Leo Tolstoy -The Death of Ivan Ilych

War and Peace

Anton Chekhov, The Cherry Orchard

James Fenimore Cooper, The Deerslayer

Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays

Emily Dickinson - "Because I Could Not Stop For Death"

"The Tint I Cannot Take"

"There's a Certain Slant of Light"

Walt Whitman - "Song of Myself"

"The Sleepers"

"Crossing Brooklyn Ferry"

"As I Ebbed With The Ocean of Life"

"Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking"

"When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomd"

Nathaniel Hawthorne - Young Goodman Brown

The Scarlet Letter

Herman Melville, Moby-Dick

Edgar Allen Poe - "The Raven"

The Cask of Amontillado

Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Kate Chopin -The Story of An Hour

The Awakening

Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage

Henry James

Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Luigi Pirandello

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wutbju · 2 years

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There’s a myth going around that BJU is okay with Calvinists. It’s not and here’s one piece of proof.

This is a portion of a letter from Bob Jones Jr. to Jimmy Lee Patterson, BJU Class of 1960, in Phoenix, Arizona. Patterson was the youth pastor at Heart to Heart Chapel where he preached at a “limited atonement” rally.

And Bob Jones, Jr. was mad because this indicated a departure from the “ordination” agreement BJU set-up through GFA for recent ministerial graduates. So Junior responded angrily with:

Mr. Spurgeon was never a great soul winner. He was a great preacher and for a while he gave and invitation and had souls, but he is not one of the great soul winners of history. John Calvin was no soul winner at all. He was a bigoted, egotistical, and acrimonious little man. Dr. Ketcham has been my friend through the years, and I love him. He was at one time a great soul winner, but now he has gotten off on this extreme Calvinist “kick,” he is not emphasizing soul winning. John Wesley was a great soul winner--a man who burned himself out winning the lost to Christ. He preached the Gospel with authority while at the same time he was convinced of the possibility of apostasy; but he did not feel called to emphasize this interpretation. He emphasized the Gospel.

Where do we begin? I mean, Calvin was not known for his religious tolerance. But the adjectives “bigoted, egotistical, and acrimonious” and “little” sound like Bob Jones, Sr.

Charles Spurgeon is responsible for the Wordless Book. Sounds pretty evangelistic to me.

But where’s this standard for “evangelism” as the test of true Christian faith?

But then we get to Robert Ketcham--a General Baptist. That means he believes the opposite of Particular Baptists, or Calvinistic Baptists. But his son is the infamous sexual predator, Donn Ketcham.

This is Bob Jones University in one paragraph.

#Bob Jones University #Archive #BJU #Robert Ketcham #Bob Jones Jr.#Calvinism #Charles Spurgeon #John Calvin #Limited Atonement #Donn Ketcham

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greatsitedotcom · 1 year

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Things to Look for in the Geneva Bible Facsimile Reproduction

In the history of Bible translations, the Geneva Bible occupies a special place. It preceded the KJV (King James Version) by 51 years. Considered the most influential Bible, which was also the primary Bible of 16th century Protestantism, the Geneva Bible found its users in Oliver Cromwell, William Shakespeare, John Bunyan, John Donne, and John Knox.

This was the first English Bible that had its scriptures segregated into numbered verses. Since its publication was an enormous achievement, owning the 1560 Geneva Bible is worth every dime you spend to acquire it. But not everyone will find its steep price affordable.

For them, a facsimile reproduction of the Geneva Bible will be worth considering. This Bible was widely read throughout the 16th and 17th centuries and played a large role in boosting the rate of scripture literacy among England’s public.

Things You Should Look For in the Geneva Bible Facsimile Reproduction

The Geneva Bible had some unique features, knowing which will help you check and ensure your facsimile reproduction too comes with them. To begin with, each chapter of this Bible had numbered verses.

A key factor behind the Geneva Bible’s popularity was its “study resources,” which referred to the marginal notes. The translators of this Bible included these notes to help the common people easily understand the Bible. These marginal notes comprised almost 300,000 words, which was approximately one-third of the text.

At the time the Geneva Bible was published, Gothic Black letter-style typeface was commonly used. However, the Geneva Bible deviated from the norm and used a Roman-style typeface instead, which was easy to use for its readers.

The original 1560 Geneva Bible had 30+ woodcut maps and illustrations depicting Biblical views. Some of the notable among these were the labeled images of the Tabernacle and the Ark of the Covenant. The Geneva Bible also had the Apocrypha.

When buying a facsimile reproduction of the Geneva Bible, you should check if the copy has all these unique features that the original had, thus ensuring your purchase is worth it.

Final Words

Keep all these features in mind when shopping for the Geneva Bible’s facsimile to ensure you get an authentic facsimile reproduction and not a cheap replica with missing pages and features.

Original Sources:

http://geneva-bible.com/geneva-bible-facsimile-reproduction.html

#1560 Geneva Bible #king james version #the geneva bible

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authoressskr · 3 years

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october is it’s own magic

[october 3rd]

Characters: f!plus size reader, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, James Rhodes, Pepper Potts, Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton, mentions of Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, and Nick Fury

Warnings: Language, no Beta, basically this is me writing for myself :: Notes: this will be a series. i will be posting it (hopefully*) every day until Halloween. And thanks to @firefly-graphics for the use of the divider! :: Word Count: 521

Soulmate AU. Bucky has a secret admirer. They keep leaving him all sorts of autumnal goodies with little notes. But who the hell is it?!

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post, translate, or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

[october 2nd]

The next morning, you arrive at your office to see a giant basket of things wrapped in orange cellophane on your desk. Wrinkling your forehead a little, you walk around your desk to sit in your seat, which now has a fall-themed blanket draped across the seat and arms. God, you loved comfort items! You carefully move the blanket to the back of your chair and seat, settling down to look at the basket that takes up most of your desktop. Tugging at the black satin ribbon, it releases the hold on the cellophane and you greedily reach inside for the letter at the forefront.

‘No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.’ - John Donne. But especially yours, my fall lover.

It’s written in lovely cursive with no name or anything else to give you a clue to the giver, frowning a little as you set the card to the side and stick your hand in to begin pulling things from the basket. There are a few scented candles, one a cinnamon pumpkin and the other one simply states “Mansion” with the iconic Haunted Mansion wallpaper print on the sticker which nearly makes you squeal with delight. There are a few face and foot masks and a couple of pair of your own spooky socks tucked along the edges, with a pair of novelty pumpkin earrings, and sat in the center is the loveliest leather-looking bound book with beautiful burnished gold scrollwork and an embossed man upon a horse with no head, a pumpkin in his uplifted hand. You nearly break into tears at the lovely little book. You adored ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’. Your goodie basket has some of your favorite fun-sized chocolates mixed amongst the black, orange, and purple crinkle paper and one of those color-changing Starbucks reusable cups with ghosts, bats, pumpkins, and cauldrons all over it.

Whoever your gift-giver was, they knew most of your likes when it came to Fall and Halloween...which made it sort of painful when you realized it couldn’t be who you wanted it to be. Your phone alarm goes off, startling from your thoughts and making you jump a bit in your chair - signaling that it was time to head upstairs so you don’t miss Bucky’s new gift from his secret admirer. Apparently, there is a lot of that going around…

Bucky is pulling his still-damp hair back when he sees you come around the slight corner, a little unsure of yourself, but he watches your expression change slightly as you make eye contact with him before your eyes sweep over his gym clothed body, cheeks pinkening just enough to give Bucky more hope as your gaze drops quickly towards the floor. At least he knows that you’re attracted to him like he is to you.

“Saved you a seat!” Tony calls out to you, watching as you hurriedly go over to him and slip into the barstool beside him, which puts you more out of reach than yesterday, and he doesn’t like that. But he also knows that while everyone may be helping him to an extent, that they also aren’t going to serve you up on a silver platter. They all will make him work for it - which is fine. He wants to be worthy of you.

“Open. Op-en. Op-en!” Everyone chants softly, looking from the little black gift bag on the counter to Bucky. Bucky rolls his eyes at their childishness but can’t help as his lips twitch upward as he reaches for the bag.

Sitting nestled in the black tissues is the cream little cardstock that he’s come to associate with his anonymous “soulmate”.

Bucky - eat, drink, and give ‘em pumpkin to talk about. Love, me.

Bucky rereads it, this time aloud for the others, setting his note to the side as his hand rustles through the black tissue to withdraw a pumpkin-shaped cookie sealed in plastic that nearly takes up most of his hand. He reaches back numerous times, revealing a dozen cookies in all, 6 with a different jack-o'-lantern expression. He realizes as he looks at them spread out on the counter before him that they’re 6 and 6 of identical cookies, half just done in traditional orange pumpkin color and the other half done in an off-white color.

“Oooh!” Wanda exclaims, flipping the nearest cookie carefully over to reveal the bakery’s sticker on the back. “I loooove this bakery! Their cookies are delicious! Vis got me some on Valentine’s Day - I loved the slight lemon tang to them.” Natasha and you nod along with Wanda’s words, Bucky watching as your fingers brush the marble just under the cookies, expression somewhere else as you smile fondly down at the cookies.

“Coulson got me cookies from there every year on my birthday.”

“And two of those giant champagne cake cupcakes too, right kid?” Clint asks as your smile widens.

“Yeah. Those are still my favorite. They taste just like the ones from my hometown bakery in California. He was thoughtful like that.”

Natasha shoves you playfully, making you laugh. “And what am I? Chopped liver? Who still gets you those cupcakes??? Huh?” You lean over to kiss Natasha’s cheek as her expression changes from teasing to smug.

“You do, Nat.”

Clint chuckles softly, watching the two of them just like everyone else. “She’s only being so nice because her birthday is tomorrow.”

“Your birthday is tomorrow?!” Tony and Steve ask incredulously, as you reach out to pat Tony’s arm.

“Don’t worry, Pepper always gets me something lovely from the two of you,” To which Tony smiles and shakes his head just a smidge.

“I do give wonderful gifts, even if I’ve never seen them.”

“Excellent taste,” Sam adds with a serious nod, which everyone shares.

“Are you all buying yourself extravagant shit for your birthdays from me?”

“Are we not supposed to?” Bucky teases, leaning his hip against the counter and giving Tony - okay, you - his full attention.

“I can’t wait to see what you get tomorrow!” You shift the conversation back to Bucky, while Steve grins at you from the other side of the kitchen.

“I saw you had something on your desk this morning when I was leaving the latest reports on your desk,” he takes a sip from his coffee cup with a sly smile. Your mouth drops open a little at his words, color rising in your cheeks at his suggestive tone.

“Yeah…” Bucky straightens up at your affirmation, forehead furrowed. He had only begun gathering things to give to her...so who was giving her things?

“Go on,” Vision encourages, Wanda patting his hand affectionately.

“It was a very large gift basket. Sooo lovely. There was a throw blanket on my chair when I came in too. It had candles, face masks, foot masks, a pair of pumpkin earrings, my own two cute pairs of spooky socks, some fun-sized chocolates, a reusable Starbucks cup with cute vinyl cutouts all over it, and the best one is a leather-looking bound version of ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’. I didn’t get long to look at it, but it was beautiful. Embossed, scrollwork...it’s a perfect little book - almost like those old Regency novels.” Your entire face is so happy and serene, it makes Bucky smile and relax just watching you. You turn towards him, that sweet smile still gracing your face. “Do you have any ideas about who your secret admirer could be?”

That changes Bucky’s face to a scowl. “No. There were too many of our fingerprints on anything to get something from there...FRIDAY doesn’t record this floor unless there is an event, so nothing there either. The actual cardstock is common and when I searched all the Stark printer systems, there was no evidence of any of the images being printed from the printers in the Tower or any printer connected to our wifi. I think I’ll have to do a stakeout or something to catch them unless I get another lead.”

“Why don’t you go to the bakery and ask for the camera footage from the last week? They only sell those pumpkin ones starting in the last couple weeks of September, so you should be able to find it that way.” Bucky must look startled causing you and Natasha to smile wider.

“Why the hell didn’t I think of that?!” Bucky leans forward, kissing your cheek before he rushes for the elevator. “Thanks, doll!” He completely misses the bright red your face turns, your fingers brushing against where he kissed in shock.

[october 4th]

tagging: @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @galaxiesinmymind @mizzezm

#bucky x reader #authoressskr writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes soulmate au #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #i'm a few days behind posting this #whoops

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salt-hag · 2 years

Text

Some Mary-centric Our Flag Means Death fics*

I was late to the game watching ofmd and getting into fics, but in the time that I have, gotta say my favorite genre is either the lads-visit-Mary or Mary-gets-involved-in-pirate-tomfoolery. Bonus points if ed thinks stede is dead for a hot minute.

*This is a short list right now, so I’ll add to it as I find fics. please feel free to add too. I’ve seen one or two other ofmd fic lists on here but I wanted to make my own little collection of this fic trope. All of these are ed/stede as of right now.

“Old and New“ by the_author_anonymous, teen rating, 11k

Summary: Mary looked at Stede. Stede looked back at Mary, his eyes pleading. Mary sighed again. Stede was annoying, and undoubtedly the stupidest man she’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. But she had wondered for a while if, now that they had thrown off the shackles of their forced marriage, they could, possibly, be friends. And this would probably be her only chance to find out. Besides, she was dying to meet this ‘Ed’ of his and see for herself what sort of person could fall in love with a man as odd as Stede Bonnet.

“On the Tide“ by the_author_anonymous (Part 2 to “Old and New”), teen rating, 13.5k, WIP

Summary: The letters kept coming. Every two months, or three, Mary would hear a knock at her door and be greeted by a courier with another envelope. They were from Thomas Hobbes in Charles Town, or John Donne of Montserrat, or Christopher Marlowe from St. Augustine. All were written by Stede, and detailed everything from the adventures of his crew to the fascinating fauna they discovered along the way.She would read the messages to Doug and her children before putting them in her drawer. Then she would forget about their existence until the next letter came. It was a pleasant cycle of remembrance that Mary hoped would continue for years to come. And as time passed, she found herself missing Stede and his merry band of fools. It always raised her spirits to read that they were still doing well.

“do no harm, take no shit“ by holsmi, gen rating, 2k

Summary: Mary Bonnet receives some uninvited guests.

It has a part 2 that I haven’t read yet! Slating that for my 2 am reading time tomorrow.

“you should be so happy now“ by waveridden, teen rating, 7.6k

Summary: In a way, Mary supposes she’s lucky that it only takes one day for the pirates to attack her ship. (Blackbeard takes a hostage, Mary takes some risks, and Stede takes everyone by surprise.)

“Reeling from the fall“ by Mymlen, teen rating, 2k

Summary: “Right,” the stranger said quietly, calmly, a friendly lilting cadence to his words. “I think you should tell Doug not to try and be a hero tonight. Tell him that if he likes you with all your fingers attached and if he likes not knowing what those fingers taste like, then he should probably stay where he is while you and I go downstairs to talk. Does that sound like a good idea to you?" Blackbeard learns about Stede’s death and where he went when he didn’t show up for their escape. He decides to pay Mary a visit.

#ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means death fic #ofmd fic #ofmd spoilers #our flag means death spoilers #had to edit this immediately after posting this bc for whatever reason tumblr lets you do levels of bullet points while editing but #they don't appear in the post itself??? broken site

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spencer-reids-adventures · 3 years

Note

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to open up anymore” angsty Hotchniss?

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to open up anymore.”

"Aaron, I-- I don't know what to tell you," Emily says, subtly shifting to avoid eye contact. "I've never known how to open up to anyone. Where do we even go from here?"

"I think I need a little time," Aaron says, his voice breaking. "Just some time to think. I promise this isn't goodbye, just--"

"Okay," Emily says. "I can do that. Tell, um. Tell Jack I'm on vacation for a little while, okay?"

Aaron nods, and then he's out the door.

Emily waits.

She doesn't call or text or email. She's glad they never got around to telling the team about their relationship, because she doesn't know how she'd explain this. She isolates herself in her apartment with wine and those party trays full of vegetables. It seems fitting for her pity party.

On the fourth day of silence, she gets a letter in the mail. There's no return address, but nothing about it looks suspicious, so she opens it. She recognizes the awkward, messy, left-handed scrawl immediately.

My Emily,

People know me as quiet and stoic; that's my reputation - one who thinks things through and responds appropriately. It's why they believe I'm angry or cold or unfeeling, and I've seen no reason to convince them otherwise. I've always been this way, on the outside.

You, though, Emily - you light a fire in me. Where Haley was once a comforting simmer, you threaten to boil me over, and I panic, and when I panic, I lose the ability for rational thought. The ability to vocalize what I'm feeling. To let you in.

I know that being closed off to vulnerability has always been your thing. I understand that in many ways, that's all you know. I think if we're to communicate adequately and maintain a relationship, we need to rethink the ways in which we communicate, and that's what I'm trying to do here.

Writing to you allows me to think about what I want to say before I try to say it. It gives me a chance to step away and take a breath before saying something I don't mean and will probably regret. From the outside, it still looks cold and stoic. From the inside - well, I can only hope that these words are anything but.

I would like to propose that we write to each other. Not exclusively, obviously, but when things become difficult, when we panic or have trouble reacting, or when there are too many feelings involved to process on the fly. It doesn't have to be a letter like this - a text, an e-mail, even an instant message, I think, would suffice.

I'm learning from scratch here. I've never fought for someone in quite this way, or put in the effort to problem-solve like this. I can only hope you're willing to try.

Please come back, Emily. My door is open for you, and Jack won't stop asking when you're getting home. You've left your mark on us, and we aren't the same when you're not here.

Love, Aaron

Emily sets down the bottle of wine she was about to open. She grabs her purse and slips on her shoes, and before she gets in the car, she cracks open a book and then shoots off a text message.

TO: AARON HOTCHNER "More than kisses, letters mingle souls." -John Donne

#emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #hotchniss #maya writes more than 5 sentences

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even-love-unreturned · 3 years

Text

Meanings behind Chain of Iron chapter titles (part II, Ch16-29)

16. Dark Breaks to Dawn

Likely from another Dante Gabriel Rossetti poem, “Found”, a companion to his painting of the same name. It was published in 1881 in his volume Ballads and Sonnets.

“There is a budding morrow in midnight:”— So sang our Keats, our English nightingale. And here, as lamps across the bridge turn pale In London's smokeless resurrection-light, Dark breaks to dawn. But o'er the deadly blight Of Love deflowered and sorrow of none avail, Which makes this man gasp and this woman quail, Can day from darkness ever again take flight?

17. Prophet of Evil

In “The Raven”, Edgar Allen Poe calls the raven a “Prophet” and a “thing of evil”.

In the Iliad, Cachas the seer/prophet is called a “Prophet/seer of evil”:

To Calchas first of all he spoke, and his look threatened evil: “Prophet of evil, never yet have you spoken to me a pleasant thing; ever is evil dear to your heart to prophesy, but a word of good you have never yet spoken, nor brought to pass. […]”

I don’t think either of these two are the reference used here though.

18. Goblin Market

This title is clearly from the poem “Goblin Market” written by Christina Rossetti in 1859, a tale of two sisters tempted by magical and dangerous fruit sold by goblins. According to some analyses, the poem might read as an allegory of addiction and recovery. (This poem has also been quoted in chapter 6 of CA)

19. Thine Own Palace

From one of John Donne’s verse letters to Sir Henry Wotton beginning “Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls”:

“Be then thine own home, and in thyself dwell; Inn anywhere; continuance maketh hell. And seeing the snail which everywhere doth roam, Carrying his own house still, still is at home, Follow (for he is easy paced) this snail, Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.”

20. Equal Temper

From the poem “Ulysses” written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson in 1833.

Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are, One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

21. Hell’s Own Track

From another Christina Rossetti poem, “Amor Mundi”, published in 1865.

“Turn again, O my sweetest,—turn again, false and fleetest: This beaten way thou beatest I fear is hell’s own track.” “Nay, too steep for hill-mounting; nay, too late for cost-counting: This downhill path is easy, but there’s no turning back.”

22. Heart of Iron

Perhaps from “The Belfry of Bruges” (1866) by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

At my feet the city slumbered. From its chimneys, here and there, Wreaths of snow-white smoke, ascending, vanished, ghost-like, into air.

Not a sound rose from the city at that early morning hour, But I heard a heart of iron beating in the ancient tower.

23. Silken Thread

Possibly from the poem attributed under its first line “O Lady, leave thy silken thread” by Thomas Hood.

O lady, leave thy silken thread And flowery tapestrie: There's living roses on the bush, And blossoms on the tree; Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand Some random bud will meet; Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find The daisy at thy feet.

24. He Shall Rise

This is either a biblical passage, or from Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “The Kraken”, first published in 1830.

There hath he lain for ages, and will lie Battening upon huge sea worms in his sleep, Until the latter fire shall heat the deep; Then once by man and angels to be seen, In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

25. Archangel Ruined

Finally we have Cassie’s obligatory Paradise Lost reference in every book!

[…] He, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent,⁠ Stood like a tower; his form had yet not lost All her original brightness, nor appeared Less than Archangel ruined, and the excess Of glory obscured. […]

- Paradise Lost, Book I (1674), John Milton

26. Older Than Gods

The only thing I can find for the exact phrase “older than gods” is something from the play The Birds by Aristophanes, performed 414 BCE, in which characters argue that if birds are older than earth and therefore “older than gods”, then the birds are the heirs of the world, for the oldest always inherits. Somehow I don’t. Think that’s the reference used here ajskfkd.

Then, there’s a line that goes “older than all ye gods” in Algernon Charles Swinburne’s poem, “Hymn to Proserpine (After the Proclamation in Rome of the Christian Faith)”:

Will ye bridle the deep sea with reins, will ye chasten the high sea with rods?/Will ye take her to chain her with chains, who is older than all ye Gods?

27. Wake With Wings

From another poem relating to Prosepine (which is one of the Latin names for Persephone) “The Garden of Proserpine” (1866) by Algernon Charles Swinburne.

Though one were strong as seven, He too with death shall dwell, Nor wake with wings in heaven, Nor weep for pains in hell; Though one were fair as roses, His beauty clouds and closes; And well though love reposes, In the end it is not well.

28. No Wise Man

Possibly from the famous quote, written by Jonathan Swift (1667-1745) in essay: “No wise man ever wished to be younger.” But I doubt it, considering all the other references are of poems and verse.

29. A Broken Mirror

Possibly from poem XXXIII in the long narrative poem “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage” by Lord Byron, published between 1812-1818. The wikipedia description has it as: “it describes the travels and reflections of a world-weary young man, who is disillusioned with a life of pleasure and revelry and looks for distraction in foreign lands.”

Even as a broken mirror, which the glass In every fragment multiplies; and makes A thousand images of one that was, The same, and still the more, the more it breaks; And thus the heart will do which not forsakes, Living in shatter'd guise, and still, and cold, And bloodless, with its sleepless sorrow aches, Yet withers on till all without is old, Showing no visible sign, for such things are untold.

Part 1 (chapters 1-15) here.

#chain of iron #tlh #the last hours #cassandra clare

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denimbex1986 · 8 months

Text

'Although Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer does not explain why the atomic bomb test was named "Trinity," it has a profound meaning that seemingly connects to Jean Tatlock. Based on Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin's book, American Prometheus, Oppenheimer's narrative primarily unfolds in three arcs. While the first arc focuses on how the physicist's early days at university led him to become a leading physicist, the second arc highlights his journey leading the Manhattan Project during World War II. Finally, the third arc in the movie is all about Oppenheimer facing the dire consequences of developing the bomb.

In all of these arcs, Oppenheimer creates mystery and intrigue surrounding many aspects of the physicist's narrative. For instance, it makes audiences wait till the end before revealing what Oppenheimer and Albert Einstein talked about during their brief encounter. However, while it resolves some of these overarching mysteries and questions, it leaves others unanswered. One of the unanswered mysteries is J. Robert Oppenheimer's reasoning for choosing the name "Trinity" for the atomic bomb test.

The Atomic Bomb's Trinity Test Name References A John Donne Poem

As portrayed in Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer, J. Robert Oppenheimer was deeply influenced by the ideas in the Hindu scripture Bhagavad Gita. What the movie does not show, however, is that the American theoretical physicist's love for literature also extended to John Donne's metaphorical poems. While the exact origins of the codename "Trinity" are shrouded in mystery, it is believed to be a reference to one of John Donne's poems that left a profound impact on Oppenheimer.

Brigadier General Leslie R. Groves, Jr. (played by Matt Damon in Oppenheimer), the director of the Manhattan Project, wrote a letter to Oppenheimer in 1962, curiously investigating the origins of Trinity Test's name. He asked whether he chose the name simply because it would attract little attention or had other deeper reasoning in mind. Oppenheimer affirmed that suggested the name, but for a completely different reason. The theoretical physicist wrote that it was unclear to him why he went for the name, but he could recall the thoughts in his mind when he came up with it (via Los Alamos National Library).

To elaborate further, Oppenheimer cited a quote from John Donne's poem Hymn to God, My God, in My Sickness: "As West and East / In all flatt Maps – and I am one – are one, / So death doth touch the Resurrection." He then confirmed that while the quote still "does not make a Trinity," another Donne poem, Holy Sonnet XIV, alludes to the origins of the codename with its opening verse: "Batter my heart, three person'd God." The "Three person'd god" in the poem refers to the Holy Trinity, a religious Christian concept that posits the belief that God exists in three divine persons: The Father, The Son (Jesus Christ), and The Holy Spirit.

How Trinity Connects To Oppenheimer & Jean Tatlock's Relationship

Jean Tatlock introduced Oppenheimer to many literary works, including the poems of John Donne. Their romantic relationship and shared interest in literature are believed to have played a crucial role in shaping the physicist's intellectual endeavors and overall worldview. Owing to this, many speculate that the name Trinity was not only an allusion to John Donne's work but also a tribute to Jean Tatlock, one of the many details from the physicist's real life that Oppenheimer does not portray.'

#Oppenheimer #Jean Tatlock #Florence Pugh #Cillian Murphy #John Donne #Holy Sonnet XIV #Batter my heart three-person'd God #Christopher Nolan #American Prometheus #Kai Bird #Martin J. Sherwin #Bhagavad Gita #The Manhattan Project #Albert Einstein #Leslie Groves #Matt Damon

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theattainer · 3 years

Text

Download The Harvard Classics

https://theattainer.com/download-the-harvard-classics/

Download The Harvard Classics

On this page you can find links to download the 51 volumes of The Harvard Classics anthology in various formats. These downloads are provided by Archive.org and the links point to the appropriate files hosted on their servers.

Volume 1

FRANKLIN, WOOLMAN, PENN

His Autobiography, by Benjamin Franklin

The Journal of John Woolman, by John Woolman

Fruits of Solitude, by William Penn

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Volume 2

PLATO, EPICTETUS, AURELIUS

The Apology, Phaedo, and Crito, by Plato

The Golden Sayings, by Epictetus

The Meditations, by Marcus Aurelius

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Volume 3

BACON, MILTON’S PROSE, THOS. BROWNE

Essays, Civil and Moral, and New Atlantis, by Francis Bacon

Areopagitica and Tractate of Education, by John Milton

Religio Medici, by Sir Thomas Browne

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Volume 4

COMPLETE POEMS IN ENGLISH, MILTON

Complete poems written in English, by John Milton

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Volume 5

ESSAYS AND ENGLISH TRAITS, EMERSON

Essays and English Traits, by Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Volume 6

POEMS AND SONGS, BURNS

Poems and songs, by Robert Burns

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Volume 7

CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE, IMITATIONS OF CHRIST

The Confessions, by Saint Augustine

The Imitation of Christ, by Thomas á Kempis

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Volume 8

NINE GREEK DRAMAS

Agamemnon, The Libation Bearers, The Furies, and Prometheus Bound, by Aeschylus

Oedipus the King and Antigone, by Sophocles

Hippolytus and The Bacchae, by Euripides

The Frogs, by Aristophanes

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Volume 9

LETTERS AND TREATISES OF CICERO AND PLINY

On Friendship, On Old Age, and Letters, by Cicero

Letters, by Pliny the Younger

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Volume 10

WEALTH OF NATIONS, ADAM SMITH

The Wealth of Nations, by Adam Smith

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Volume 11

ORIGIN OF SPECIES, DARWIN

The Origin of Species, by Charles Darwin

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Volume 12

PLUTARCH’S LIVES

Lives, by Plutarch

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Volume 13

AENEID, VIRGIL

Aeneid, by Virgil

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Volume 14

DON QUIXOTE, PART 1, CERVANTES

Don Quixote, Part 1, by Cervantes

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Volume 15

PILGRIM’S PROGRESS, DONNE & HERBERT, BUNYAN, WALTON

The Pilgrim’s Progress, by John Bunyan

The Lives of Donne and Herbert, by Izaak Walton

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Volume 16

THE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS

Stories from the Thousand and One Nights

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Volume 17

FOLKLORE AND FABLE, AESOP, GRIMM, ANDERSON

Fables, by Aesop

Children’s and Household Tales, by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm

Tales, by Hans Christian Andersen

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Volume 18

MODERN ENGLISH DRAMA

All for Love, by John Dryden

The School for Scandal, by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

She Stoops to Conquer, by Oliver Goldsmith

The Cenci, by Percy Bysshe Shelley

A Blot in the ‘Scutcheon, by Robert Browning

Manfred, by Lord Byron

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Volume 19

FAUST, EGMONT, ETC. DOCTOR FAUSTUS, GOETHE, MARLOWE

Faust, Part 1, Egmont, and Hermann and Dorothea, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Dr. Faustus, by Christopher Marlowe

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Volume 20

THE DIVINE COMEDY, DANTE

The Divine Comedy, by Dante Alighieri

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Volume 21

I PROMESSI SPOSI, MANZONI

I Promessi Sposi, by Alessandro Manzoni

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Volume 22

THE ODYSSEY, HOMER

The Odyssey, by Homer

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Volume 23

TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST, DANA

Two Years Before the Mast, by Richard Henry Dana, Jr.

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Volume 24

ON THE SUBLIME, FRENCH REVOLUTION, ETC., BURKE

On Taste, On the Sublime and Beautiful, Reflections on the French Revolution, and A Letter to a Noble Lord, by Edmund Burke

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Volume 25

AUTOBIOGRAPHY, ETC., ESSAYS AND ADDRESSES, J.S. MILL, T. CARLYLE

Autobiography and On Liberty, by John Stuart Mill

Characteristics, Inaugural Address at Edinburgh, and Sir Walter Scott, by Thomas Carlyle

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Volume 26

CONTINENTAL DRAMA

Life is a Dream, by Pedro Calderón de la Barca

Polyeucte, by Pierre Corneille

Phèdre, by Jean Racine

Tartuffe, by Molière

Minna von Barnhelm, by Gotthold Ephraim Lessing

William Tell, by Friedrich von Schiller

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Volume 27

ENGLISH ESSAYS: SIDNEY TO MACAULAY

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Volume 28

ESSAYS: ENGLISH AND AMERICAN

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Volume 29

VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE, DARWIN

The Voyage of the Beagle, by Charles Darwin

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Volume 30

FARADAY, HELMHOLTZ, KELVIN, NEWCOMB, ETC

The Forces of Matter and The Chemical History of a Candle, by Michael Faraday

On the Conservation of Force and Ice and Glaciers, by Hermann von Helmholtz

The Wave Theory of Light and The Tides, by Lord Kelvin

The Extent of the Universe, by Simon Newcomb

Geographical Evolution, by Sir Archibald Geikie

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Volume 31

AUTOBIOGRAPHY, BENVENUTO CELLINI

The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini

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Volume 32

LITERARY AND PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS

Essays, by Michel Eyquem de Montaigne

Montaigne and What is a Classic?, by Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve

The Poetry of the Celtic Races, by Ernest Renan

The Education of the Human Race, by Gotthold Ephraim Lessing

Letters upon the Aesthetic Education of Man, by Friedrich von Schiller

Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of Morals, by Immanuel Kant

Byron and Goethe, by Giuseppe Mazzini

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Volume 33

VOYAGES AND TRAVELS

An account of Egypt from The Histories, by Herodotus

Germany, by Tacitus

Sir Francis Drake Revived, by Philip Nichols

Sir Francis Drake’s Famous Voyage Round the World, by Francis Pretty

Drake’s Great Armada, by Captain Walter Bigges

Sir Humphrey Gilbert’s Voyage to Newfoundland, by Edward Haies

The Discovery of Guiana, by Sir Walter Raleigh

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Volume 34

FRENCH AND ENGLISH PHILOSOPHERS, DESCARTES, VOLTAIRE, ROUSSEAU, HOBBES

Discourse on Method, by René Descartes

Letters on the English, by Voltaire

On the Inequality among Mankind and Profession of Faith of a Savoyard Vicar, by Jean Jacques Rousseau

Of Man, Being the First Part of Leviathan, by Thomas Hobbes

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Volume 35

CHRONICLE AND ROMANCE, FROISSART, MALORY, HOLINSHEAD

Chronicles, by Jean Froissart

The Holy Grail, by Sir Thomas Malory

A Description of Elizabethan England, by William Harrison

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Volume 36

MACHIAVELLI, MORE, LUTHER

The Prince, by Niccolò Machiavelli

The Life of Sir Thomas More, by William Roper

Utopia, by Sir Thomas More

The Ninety-Five Theses, To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation, andOn the Freedom of a Christian, by Martin Luther

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Volume 37

LOCKE, BERKELEY, HUME

Some Thoughts Concerning Education, by John Locke

Three Dialogues Between Hylas and Philonous in Opposition to Sceptics and Atheists, by George Berkeley

An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, by David Hume

PDF | MOBI | ePub | Full Text

Volume 38

HARVEY, JENNER, LISTER, PASTEUR

The Oath of Hippocrates

Journeys in Diverse Places, by Ambroise Paré

On the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Animals, by William Harvey

The Three Original Publications on Vaccination Against Smallpox, by Edward Jenner

The Contagiousness of Puerperal Fever, by Oliver Wendell Holmes

On the Antiseptic Principle of the Practice of Surgery, by Joseph Lister

Scientific papers, by Louis Pasteur

Scientific papers, by Charles Lyell

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Volume 39

FAMOUS PREFACES

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Volume 40

ENGLISH POETRY 1: CHAUCER TO GRAY

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Volume 41

ENGLISH POETRY 2: COLLINS TO FITZGERALD

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Volume 42

ENGLISH POETRY 3: TENNYSON TO WHITMAN

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Volume 43

AMERICAN HISTORICAL DOCUMENTS

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Volume 44

SACRED WRITINGS 1

Confucian: The sayings of Confucius

Hebrew: Job, Psalms, and Ecclesiastes

Christian I: Luke and Acts

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Volume 45

SACRED WRITINGS 2

Christian II: Corinthians I and II and hymns

Buddhist: Writings

Hindu: The Bhagavad-Gita

Mohammedan: Chapters from the Koran

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Volume 46

ELIZABETHAN DRAMA 1

Edward the Second, by Christopher Marlowe

Hamlet, King Lear, Macbeth, and The Tempest, by William Shakespeare

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Volume 47

ELIZABETHAN DRAMA 2

The Shoemaker’s Holiday, by Thomas Dekker

The Alchemist, by Ben Jonson

Philaster, by Beaumont and Fletcher

The Duchess of Malfi, by John Webster

A New Way to Pay Old Debts, by Philip Massinger

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Volume 48

THOUGHTS AND MINOR WORKS, PASCAL

Thoughts, letters, and minor works, by Blaise Pascal

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Volume 49

EPIC AND SAGA

Beowulf

The Song of Roland

The Destruction of Dá Derga’s Hostel

The Story of the Volsungs and Niblungs

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Volume 50

INTRODUCTION, READER’S GUIDE, INDEXES

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Volume 51

The last volume contains sixty lectures introducing and summarizing the covered fields of:

history

poetry

natural science

philosophy

biography

prose fiction

criticism and the essay

education

political science

drama

travelogues

religion

There are 5 lectures for each subject, beginning with an introductory lecture with consequent text covering the subjects in increasing depth.

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What do you think?

#All #Books

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 3 years

Photo

“Panorama Helsinki / Finland - Dom und Parlamentsplatz“ by tap5a

“We only do this for Fergus!” is a short Outlander Fan Fiction story and my contribution to the Outlander Prompt Exchange (Prompt 3: Fake Relationship AU: Jamie Fraser wants to formally adopt his foster son Fergus, but his application will probably not be approved… unless he is married and/or in a committed relationship. Enter one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp (Randall?) to this story) @outlanderpromptexchange

Chapter 6: Absence. The state of not being physically present (2)

When Claire turned around, she looked into the face of Mrs. Curtius.

"Claire, I understand that you are queasy about this task. I know how much Mr. Fraser loves his son and ... now you have the responsibility for Fergus. It's not easy. But I assure you, we will support you in everything."

The housekeeper gently put her arms around Claire and huged her.

When they had disengaged from each other again, Claire replied:

"You're right. It's like he put a 100-carat-diamond in my arm and said, 'Take good care of it!" However, this little diamond is very much alive and not always controllable ..."

Mrs. Curtius smiled.

"That's very much to the point. Believe me, the last time I had to watch him, I didn't breathe a sigh of relief either until Mr. Fraser came back."

The two women looked at each other for a moment, smiling. Then Mrs. Curtius continued:

"Will you come with me to the kitchen? I have to prepare breakfast for the security people, and if you'd like, you can join me for a cup of coffee?"

“Kitchen” by shadowfirearts

Claire nodded and followed the housekeeper. She had been living in the house for a few months, but until now she had never had a chance to talk to the housekeeper in a quiet and detailed way. Shortly thereafter, she sat on one of the raised counter stools at the kitchen counter in front of a steaming cup of coffee, watching Mrs. Curtius prepare huge portions of scrambled eggs and fried ham in large cast-iron pans. It looked as if the housekeeper had never done anything else, so easy seemed her work. She was a joy to watch and Claire suddenly wished she had similar skills. She followed the individual steps with interest, noting also how easy it seemed for the housekeeper to carry on a conversation on the side.

Claire had already emptied her second cup of coffee when, at 6:40 am, the alarm on her smartphone reminded her that she had to wake Fergus in twenty minutes. She thanked Mrs. Curtius, then set the dining room table for Fergus and herself.

The day went almost exactly as she had expected. After breakfast, she took Fergus to school, accompanied by two bodyguards. Afterwards, she lay down again to catch up on some lost sleep. Around noon, she picked up the boy from school, again accompanied by two bodyguards.

At lunch with Fergus, she watched him closely. But the little curly-haired boy was bright and chipper as ever. After a short break, they set about doing his homework together. An hour later, Claire noticed his concentration waning. She suggested they take a nap now. When they got to Fraser's apartment, she showed the boy that she had set up in the guest room for herself and that if he woke up during the night, he would find her there.

"Where's Papa today?" asked Fergus, to Claire's surprise.

"Today and tomorrow your Papa is in Iceland. He should have arrived by now, he may even be in his first meeting. But we'll find out when he calls us tonight."

“Island - Green Rush” by KarinKarin

"Are you taking a nap too, Claire?"

"No, or I won't be able to sleep tonight. I'm going to sit here in the living room and read some more. And when I wake you up, we can play a game together."

"What kind of game?"

"It's a surprise."

Fergus gave her a slightly annoyed look and rolled his eyes.

"Ooch Claire!"

"No way! There are two surprises today. But not until there's time."

A little reluctantly, Fergus crawled into his bed. Claire handed him the little beige bear that Jamie had purchased at a Swedish furniture store and brought back for the boy from his last business trip. Clearly, "Stuffy" had become Fergus's favorite stuffed animal. Claire closed the window blinds. Then she stroked Fergus's hair once more.

"Sleep now. You still have a lot of growing to do. That's sometimes exhausting and you need time to rest every now and then. I'll wake you up later and after tea we'll play. I promise."

Quietly she closed the door of Fergus' room. When she reached the hallway, she stood indecisive for a moment. Then she checked the door to the stairs again. It was locked. Good, she wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. Claire decided to take a little tour of the rooms on Fraser's floor. To the right of Fergus' room was the library, which also served as Fraser's study. From Fergu's room and from the library, one could access a narrow balcony on the south side of the house. But this balcony was very rarely used. A window also led out to the garden from the side of the room used as a library.

“Library” by moritz320

Claire closed the door behind her. On the left side of the hallway now followed the door to the stairs and then an open space - open to the hallway with a window facing the west side of the house. She stopped for a moment and looked at it. I wonder what it was for? What reason had there been for not providing another room here? She took a few steps to the window. From there she could look down to the street in front of the house. Once again she looked around. What sense this free space should have, she did not understand, but she took it upon herself to ask Jamie about it. On the right side now followed Fraser's private living room, which was also called the 'fireplace room'. She passed it and reached the door to the guest room on the left, where she had made herself comfortable for the time of Fraser's absence. Then she stood in front of Fraser's bedroom. She looked for the matching key on the key ring he had given her, opened the door and turned on the light. What Claire saw next amazed her. While most of the rest of the house was modern and decorated in bright colors, she now had the impression of having entered a museum. The focal point of the room was a four-poster bed made of dark wood. The bed was the size of a marriage bed and clearly came from another century. She estimated that it dated from the beginning or middle of the 18th century. Two antique chairs stood in front of a large window whose view led out into the garden. To the right, Claire spotted a table with a mirror that was clearly the forerunner of what was called a 'dressing table' in the present time. On the opposite wall was a narrow, tall chest of drawers, richly carved. At the foot of the bed had been placed a chest whose iron fittings indicated that it was much older than any of the other pieces of furniture. Claire ran her hands over the wood and over the hardware. From its shape and texture, the chest appeared to be at least one hundred years older than everything elese in this room. All of the furnishings were crafted of dark wood. The only other color in the room was blue. This was the color of the wallpaper, as well as the bedding. As Claire looked more closely at the wallpaper, she realized that it only gave the impression of being as old as the furniture. A layman would certainly not have noticed the difference, but Claire had spent too much time at her Uncle Lambert's side, and as the niece of the noted Oxford historian, she noticed the difference immediately. This wallpaper was a very accurate reproduction of a wall painting that was at least two to three centuries old. But why did a man of Fraser's age have wallpaper made that showed such a wall painting? Was he desperate for wallpaper that matched the antique furniture in his bedroom? And why had he furnished his bedroom with furniture of this type in the first place? Slowly, she walked around the large bed until she came to a stop in front of the nightstand on the side where Fraser was obviously sleeping. Next to a bedside lamp, which was of more recent date but also in antique style, was a book. On the dark blue cover was written in white letters "The Complete Poems of John Donne." Without thinking further, she reached for the book and was about to open it. Then she saw that there was a bookmark sticking out of the top of the book. She opened the book at that point and read:

That Time and Absence proves Rather helps than hurts to loves

ABSENCE, hear thou my protestation

Against thy strength,

Distance and length:

Do what thou canst for alteration,

For hearts of truest mettle

Absence doth join and Time doth settle.

Who loves a mistress of such quality,

His mind hath found

Affection's ground

Beyond time, place, and all mortality.

To hearts that cannot vary

Absence is present, Time doth tarry.

My senses want their outward motion

Which now within

Reason doth win,

Redoubled by her secret notion:

Like rich men that take pleasure

In hiding more than handling treasure.

By Absence this good means I gain,

That I can catch her

Where none can watch her,

In some close corner of my brain:

There I embrace and kiss her,

And so enjoy her and none miss her.

That Time and Absence proves

Rather helps than hurts to loves

ABSENCE, hear thou my protestation

Against thy strength,

Distance and length:

Do what thou canst for alteration,

For hearts of truest mettle

Absence doth join and Time doth settle.

Who loves a mistress of such quality,

His mind hath found

Affection's ground

Beyond time, place, and all mortality.

To hearts that cannot vary

Absence is present, Time doth tarry.

My senses want their outward motion

Which now within

Reason doth win,

Redoubled by her secret notion:

Like rich men that take pleasure

In hiding more than handling treasure.

By Absence this good means I gain,

That I can catch her

Where none can watch her,

In some close corner of my brain:

There I embrace and kiss her,

And so enjoy her and none miss her.

In the second paragraph, all the lines had been underlined with a pencil. Once again, she quietly read the entire poem. It was not unfamiliar to her. Her uncle had owned a complete edition of John Donne's works. But it did surprise her a little to find such a book on James Fraser's bedside table. And why had he underlined that verse? Was there a woman in Fraser's life after all? Claire took a deep breath, then closed the book and put it back the way she had found it. Once again she looked over the bed. Then she carefully stroked the covers and looked around. A door contrary to the bed led from Fraser's bedroom into his bathroom. Claire looked through the open door, but did not enter. This room too, was held in blue and withe. She left the room, locking the door behind her.

When it was time for tea and she went to wake Fergus, she found the boy playing in his bed.

"Do I get my surprise now?" asked Fergus firmly.

"Now first there's cocoa for you, tea me, and fresh sandwiches for both of us."

"Oh yes!"

A moment later, when hunger and thirst were satisfied, Claire removed a box from a burlap bag.

“A game of Settlers of Catan” by Yonghokim - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77327301

"What's this?"

"It's a game, it's called 'The Settlers of Catan' and there are many versions of it. This is the edition that fits your age and look what this is on the box."

"It's a parrot. He's wearing a pirate tricorn and he's got a map in his claws."

"You did a good job of recognizing that," Claire praised the bright boy.

"Yes, I know parrots from the zoo. In Dresden. I've been there with Papa. The zoo is huuuuuuge!"

Fergus stretched his little arms as far apart as he could - to make it clear to Claire that the zoo was really ‘huuuuge’.

Claire nodded with a smile. Then she unpacked the game and explained the rules to Fergus.

After 40 minutes, they had finished the first round of the game.

"Well, shall we play another round?"

"Do we have that much time? When is Papa going to call?"

"Yes, we still have quite a bit of time. Your Papa can't call until after dinner, and before that there's another surprise for you."

"Another surprise?"

"Yes, but not until after dinner."

Fergus rolled his eyes while Claire rearranged the game pieces.

When they finished the second round as well, Claire let the boy play with his train set some more while she went into the kitchen to help Mrs. Curtius set the dinner table.

After dinner and a shower afterwards, Claire took Fergus to his room.

"Do I get my second surprise now?"

"Yes, you little rascal, but you'll have to move aside to get it."

Fergus made room and Claire sat down next to him on the bed. Together they sat leaning against the wall of the room when Claire pulled out her tablet and asked:

"Do you know 'The Show with the Mouse,' Fergus?"

"No, what is it?"

"The mouse is a cartoon character and there are shows with the mouse for kids on TV."

"No, I haven't seen that yet. Papa doesn't like me to watch too much TV. Are we going to watch a show like that now?"

“Children and The Mouse at the WDR broadcasting studio” at the launch of the first podcast episode - Von Superbass - Eigenes Werk, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=84390983 Source: Von Superbass - Eigenes Werk, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=84390983

"No, but the mouse also has a podcast for some time, a kind of radio show, and that's where the mouse tells goodnight stories."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, and tonight and every night as long as your Papa is on his business trip, we'll listen to one of those good night stories."

"Aren't you going to read to me from our book?"

"No, we'll do that when your Papa gets back. Otherwise he'll miss so much, won't he?"

Fergus nodded in agreement, then asked:

"What story are we going to hear tonight?"

Claire tapped on her tablet and the page 'Goodnight with the Mouse' came up. She pointed to it and read aloud:

"Today we're going to listen to a program about trees - with forest workers at work, a tree in the rainforest, and, of course, the mouse. Are you ready?"

Fergus nodded and Claire pressed the button.

The last chords of the podcast's closing music had just faded away when that familiar sound announcing an incoming video call was heard.

"Papa! It's Papa for sure!" exclaimed Fergus excitedly.

Claire opened the app and moments later Jamie appeared on the screen. He too smiled when he saw Fergus and Claire. Fergus waved enthusiastically and Jamie waved back.

"How are you, Papa," Fergus asked.

"I'm fine and how are you?"

A stream of information immediately poured out of Fergus' mouth, starting with today's experiences at school, to the new game he had tried with Claire, to of course listening to 'The Show with the Mouse' together, from which he had learned many new things about trees.

Jamie followed his son's report with great interest. He wanted to ask something, but before he could, he was bombarded with questions by the boy. Witty, but at the same time careful and descriptive, Fraser tried to answer his son's questions.

Twenty minutes later they said goodbye to each other and Fraser promised, if he had the chance, to call again the next evening.

Claire wrapped Fergus in his bedclothes, stroked his hair, and gave him a light kiss on the forehead.

"Sleep well, Fergus. If anything is, you know I'll either be in your father's living room or the guest room. There's a bottle of water next to your bed and I'll leave that little string of lights on."

"Hmmm."

"Good; I'll see you in the morning then."

Claire turned to go.

"See you in the morning. ... Claire?"

"Yes, Fergus?"

"Thank you for the nice day."

Once again, Claire walked back. Smiling, she looked at the child and stroked his head once more.

"I was happy to do that for you."

Then she left, closing the door behind her. She stood listening for a moment longer, but all remained quiet in Fergus' room. Claire looked down the hall, considering for a moment how to spend the rest of the evening. Then she made the decision to sit and read in Fraser's living room for a while longer. When she entered the room, it was still warm, although there were only embers glowing in the fireplace. Claire glanced at the small round side table that stood near the small seating area in front of the fireplace and held a selection of Fraser's whiskeys. It was tempting to help herself to it, and Fraser wouldn't have minded, she knew. But the responsibility she bore for Fraser's son held her back. Claire had just sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace when the tablet she was still holding reported the arrival of another skype call. She opened the app, and to her surprise, Jamie appeared on the screen.

#We only do this for Fergus #Outlander #Outlander Fan Fiction #Outlander Modern AU #Berlin #Potsdam #Germany #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Fergus Fraser #Ian Murray #Jenny Murray #Ned Gowan #Frank Randall

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