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yellowbunnydreams · 3 months ago

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Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 9]

~I'm sorry reader - but know that tomorrow is another day~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@ruh--roh-raggy @xp-doggy @redbunny03 @marigold-petalz @seviliet @astinkerofarat @iamnotwiddle @imtiredshow

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU. Angst

William Afton had successfully kept you away from your apartment for another week, and as he placed the last of the boxes from his car down into the empty space, he wondered how he was supposed to let you go and live your life without waking up in the same house every day.

He thought of every day he made you laugh, how sweet it had sounded, how he had for the first time in many years relished the sound and felt like he was able to relax around somebody that wasn't 'in' on his secret. How good it had felt to thump and twitch and do his silly little bounce that he couldn't quite control when he was excited. He'd cared for you, he'd tried every pick-up line over the past week, trying to play, perhaps a little selfishly, on that hormonal change to potentially forge a connection between the two of you that didn't feel like he was left staring at where you were and wondering if he was getting too old for that shit.

'Are your parents bakers? Because you're a cutie-pie.'

'Are you made of copper and terillium, because you're CuTe!'

'You must have been speeding, because you've got fine written all over you.'

'Do you have a map? Because I'm lost in your eyes.'

'You know, you're so small against me even when I'm human. It's okay, I can give you some extra inches.'

But you hadn't batted an eyelid, even at his latest, more lewd attempt. You were infuriating, but William had felt himself growing more and more dejected with each rejection.

Just as you had grown more dejected each time William had rejected you.

You hadn't quite given up yet, Valentines Day was approaching and you had thought about coming out with it and asking him, but you thought that was too direct and didn't follow your plan that you had laid out with Claire. William had received a picture of you cuddling the Spring-Bonnie plush in the room just down from his, you'd even captioned it 'Not as good as the real rabbit'. The text you'd received back was enough to make you sigh loudly enough that William followed up with 'Are you okay?'.

'Yeah, rabbits are pretty cuddly and soft.'

You had been texting Claire when you had the chance, wanting to know that you weren't going crazy when you touched William's arm and smiled up at him, texted him flirtatiously, even tried to make him breakfast one day, much to his delight and then horror as you burnt one of his pans. She was running out of ideas too, and you couldn't help but feel like you were coming to your last resort.

You were going to have to ask William Afton out directly.

But as you turned and looked into his softly smiling face, any bravado you had faded away and left your mouth dry. At least you might get some perspective from your slightly odd landlord, Dave, when he appeared to welcome you into your apartment.

"Well hello sugar, you didn't tell me you were having guests over so soon."

That raspy voice that set you on edge made you look past William and give a polite smile, seeing the lanky, gaunt man leaning against your doorframe. His dark circles looked more bruise like in the low light, and he was wearing an oversized, threadbare sweater than seemed slightly out of place compared to the black slacks he seemed to always wear. Aside from being half-naked the last time you saw him.

"Hi Dave, why don't you come o-"

"Bunny, I wouldn't do that." William growled, making you blink as you had never heard your boss acting like that. The low rumble in the back of his chest made the hair on the back of your neck stand up slightly as Dave simply cocked up head and raised an eyebrow.

"William, what's going on?" You asked, not receiving an answer as the tall, broad man fixed his eyes firmly on the man in front of you both. Blinking as you realised William's eyes were purple and had become slit-pupiled, making you tug at his rolled up shirt sleeve slightly. "Will, your...eyes..."

"My my, you didn't disclose that she knew William. I thought that you said she didn't." Something about the coolness in Dave's voice made your stomach turn uneasily, the two men staring at each other like animals sizing each other up for a fight. But you kept your hand on William's arm and slowly stroked over it to soothe him, practically feeling the reverb coming from his continuous growl that slowly ebbed.

"That was then."

"And this is now. You know, me not coming in is just a courtesy right? You should really introduce her to checking contracts for any...hidden...clauses."

"You wrote yourself entry?"

"Relax, nothing has been signed, has it, sugar?" Dave's darting gaze fixed on you, tilting his head to one side as he gave you that same crooked smile that he had when you first met.

"You're a monster too?" You asked him, watching him shrug and smile lazily as he reached up and tousled his greasy hair before gesturing to himself with one bony hand.

"You're looking at a top class predator, apex if you will. I, sugar, am a vampire." You blinked, the pieces slotting together in your head from years of having to cover literature and then finding out that monsters really did exist. Both of your bosses were different ones, and now your landlord too? And they knew each other? You vaguely recalled that William had said that monsters liked to band together in communities, so you guessed that you were going to be seeing a few more around since there was a monster friendly building in Hurricane.

"Ah, cool."

Dave blinked, his smirk disappearing as he gestured to himself again. His brow slightly furrowed.

"Cool? Did...Did you not hear me? I said, 'I'm a vampire'."

"No, I heard you the first time." Shrugging your shoulders before looking up at William, who was pursing his lips and running his hand over his beard like he was trying desperately not to laugh at the scene before him.

"Are you not...afraid...compelled by my charm and good wit?"

"I mean...I can pretend to be shocked if you want?" You offered innocently, and William couldn't take it any more as he burst into laughter, startling more than Dave's revelation. Smiling broadly up at the incubus as he clutched onto his stomach and leaned against the wall whilst he wheezed, the deep rumbling laugh making your heart throb and ache that you were running out of chances to hear that whenever you wanted.

"Are you even going to be phased if I come around, drinking blood?" He asked, scowling at William, his eyes darting around once more in behaviour that made a lot more sense now that you had context. Shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders again, much to Dave's disappointment. "Fine, alright, I give up. Sugar, you should have all your keys now, apart from the emergency one I have. Give me a call if you need any utilities hooking up, you'll have to invite me in, but you can rescind the invite any time."

You looked at William, who was just recovering from his laughter as he wiped away tears from his eyes, giving you a broad smile and ruffling your hair in that affectionate way that he always seemed to. You remembered what he said about incubi liking touch, which was why so much of your flirting had involved touching his arms and his back. Smiling down at you as he leaned down and bumped his head into yours softly, feeling his stubble scratch against your forehead slightly as he stroked your arms too.

"And here I was, worried that you wouldn't know how to deal with that asshole." You raised an eyebrow at his statement, moving your head slightly so that you could get a better look at Afton's greying hair and now silvery eyes.

"You knew Dave was a vampire?"

"I knew he was picking up property in the area, I just didn't know he would be your landlord." It was only a minor lie on his part, William knew that Dave was there all along, he would never mention the mild stalking Dave had previously done outside of William's house because of his curiosity about you. But, knowing that you now knew, and that you seemed to be aware of how to handle him, William felt less guilty about leaving you in the vampire's watch.

At least, he hoped you would be able to find somebody as happy as you made him.

"So what did he say to that text?"

"He said 'You're sweet, but I don't need any sugar for my coffee.'" You sighed and placed your head back against the exterior wall, eyes closed as you tried to soak in the cool air. Claire and yourself were on lunch break again, and you were discussing your latest attempts at flirting with your boss, trying to get him to notice you. Or at least, notice you how you noticed him.

Claire stared out across the back of the lot as she thought, wondering what on Earth she was going to do with you, and honestly, what she was going to do to Afton if she got a hold of him. She was too short to shake him by the shoulders, but she was semi-convinced she might convince Henry Emily to join in on it all if she talked to him. But then again, Henry Emily and William Afton had been friends for more years than Freddy's had been around, and Claire wasn't convinced that he would do anything other than scold the pair of you.

"You know...you should try one more time." She eventually said, looking at you from the corner of her eye and making you glance over at her. Hearing the sound of car doors opening and closing towards the front of the lot as you could both vaguely hear the sound of the music playing from the speakers and animatronics through the doors as they opened and closed with each patron coming and going.

"And say what, exactly?"

"Ask him how he'd like to be asked out."

You sat up, looking at your friend with sceptically raised eyebrow.

"You're not serious?"

"Deadly. Look, who else would know better how William Afton wants to be asked out, than William Afton himself?" She proposed, turning to you and making you think over it as she crossed her arms across her chest. She wasn't wrong, you realised with a slight sigh. He would know how he wanted to be flirted with and asked out best of all.

"I hate that you're right."

"Of course I'm right! Look, it's fool-proof and if he doesn't take you up on it, he's stupid as hell. I know a bunch of ladies who'd love to date you if you're into that kinda thing." Wriggling her eyebrows and you smacked her arm playfully, grinning at her as she mocked a pout and rubbed her arm where you had caught her. "Seriously! He's a fool."

"He's still our boss." You pointed out, chewing your lip as Claire shrugged her shoulders.

"So you have to get a job at Sparky's. Or you pretend like nothing ever happened and I'll get you a little bell to ring and Pavlov your ass out of this crush."

"Can you even do that?"

"Oh yeah, legally it's a bit grey, but technically you can do anything like that." You realised that you associated cherry candies with William already, how he always had a handful of them in his pocket ready to go and always seemed to be sucking or crunching on one as he walked around Freddy's when he wasn't in the parts and services room out the back.

"Fine, I'll ask him. But I'm not going to get my hopes up." Sighing as Claire wrapped you up in a hug and squeezed tightly, making you squeeze back before she clapped you on the shoulders and grinned at you broadly.

"Faz-fucking-tastic! Let's go!"

It was going to be a long day, you could already tell.

You paced around your new bedroom floor. feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you glanced at your phone, sat innocently on the bed-spread next to your Spring-Bonnie plushie that William had given you. Chewing over your lip and trying not to bite at your nails as you wondered if you were really going to go through with it.

Asking your boss out, that was.

It was just a text, he trusted you to see him as a giant rabbit man, hell, he'd brought you period products and spooned you with cartoons on to make you feel better about the whole thing. He'd been the one who offered for you to stay at his home despite the fact it could have been dangerous for him because you needed it.

You could send a damn text.

'Hey William, are you still up?'

Your fingers shook slightly as you sent the text, glancing at the clock on your bedside table and realising it was nearly eleven o'clock at night. Would he even be up at that time? The notification sound of your phone going off making you snatch up the device again quickly.

'Half-asleep, but I sure am bunny. What's up?'

'How do you ask a guy out you like?'

William stared at his phone, bleary eyed and suddenly his attention was fully on the small mobile phone in his hand. His knuckles turning white as he gripped the sides of it. For some reason, he found it hard to swallow as something ugly flashed through him for the first time in a while.

Jealousy.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on not breaking his screen as his clawed fingers tapped away on the keyboard. Thumping his foot against his mattress unhappily as his brow furrowed, lips pursed into a fine line.

'Well, guys like it when you're blunt with them. You should just ask them.'

You took your own deep breath, steeling yourself and typing out the words that made your heart race inside your chest wildly.

'Would you like to go out with me?'

The little bubble popped up that he was typing, the quickness of it making your stomach turn slightly in nerves and anxiety as you tried to imagine how he might try to gently let you down, or the hopeful answer of 'yes', you had so many images in your head of how you would handle the answer gracefully.

'Yeah, just send that to whichever guy it is you want to ask out.'

It wasn't until your screen began to blur in small dots that you realised you were crying. Whatever you had expected, you didn't realise how much it would hurt this much to be turned down by your crush.

Locking your phone, you crawled into bed, staring blankly at the wall and feeling the tears coming thicker and faster as you realised that you needed to talk to somebody. Picking your phone back up as you cuddled Spring-Bonnie closer with one hand, shakily texting Claire to let her know how it all went.

How you thought you'd ruined your only chance with the incubunny.

#william afton #william afton x reader #steve raglan #springtrap #steve raglan x reader #fnaf movie #springtrap x reader #william afton x you #fnaf x reader #william afton smut #monster au #monster william afton #monster henry emily #incubus!william afton #incubunny #vampire! dave miller

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razzmatome · 6 months ago

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The Webs We Weave (Jude/f!OC)

A cautious witch stays alive. Five words the Calloway sisters have lived by for as long as they can remember. They live like humans even though they’re not; a letter carrier, a dress maker, and a baker. They practice their craft in secret and never so much to draw the eyes of others. The hardest part of Bea’s day has always been playing peacemaker between her overprotective older sister and free-spirited younger. But everything changes when one of her sisters suddenly disappears. To make matters worse, the new investor in the dress maker’s shop is more than human himself and has taken too sudden an interest in her. Caught between the urge to find her sister and the desire to stay safe, Bea must decide how fully she wants to step into the shadows and join the world she was hiding from. A cautious witch stays alive, but a clever witch lives.

Pairing: Jude/f!OC

Word Count: 2354

CW: Swearing

Note: Since we don't know what's going to happen on Jude's route, I thought I'd play with him and my oc in a different way. This story is technically set during William's route which is happening in the background and there are a couple relationships brewing in the background as well. I have ideas but we'll see if I can pull it off. I mostly just wanted to write a 'canon' setting for Jude and Bea. Borders from the lovely @/natimiles

“Cate didn’t come home.”

Bea looked up from the newspaper. Maggie was hovering at the edge of the table, twisting her fingers together. Worry was radiating from her, filling the room. She frowned as the words properly registered. “At all?”

Maggie flopped into a chair, shaking her head. “Her room is exactly the same as yesterday.”

That didn’t necessarily mean anything. Cate was particular about her things, liking everything to be in a certain place. But Maggie wouldn’t say that based on that alone. Setting the newspaper aside, Bea said, “What else?”

A pained look crossed her face and she glanced away. “I came home late last night and I replaced your lock. It’s still mine on the door.”

Something whispered down her spine, leaving a chill in its wake. There was no way Cate would forget to replace the lock when it was her rule in the first place.

“Bea, something happened. There’s no way Cate wouldn’t come home. Not without telling us first.”

No, she would have come home. She always came home. Since their mother had passed, Cate had taken her role as eldest sibling seriously. Too seriously if Bea was being honest, but they’d all processed Eleanor’s death differently.

“We need to look for her.”

Damn it. “No.”

Maggie stared at her. “What do you mean no? Bea! We have to-”

“Not yet,” she interrupted before her younger sister could start to spiral. “We can’t look without a plan. If we do, we might put her or ourselves in danger.”

“She could already be in danger!”

“We would know, Maggie.” Except if Cate were actually in trouble the last thing she would do was expose that trouble to her sisters. And judging by her expression, Maggie thought the same. “Tonight.”

“What?”

“We’ll look for her tonight. We need to prepare so that we don’t make anything worse.” Or expose themselves if Cate was fine.

Maggie pressed her lips together, clearly displeased, and reached for her hand.

Bea let her wind their fingers together, ignoring the tiny jolt her touch caused. She kept her mind clear, holding fast to the idea that Cate was fine. Maggie was a loose cannon on the best of days but adding a missing sister to the mix? She hadn’t dealt well with their mother dying, her emotions turning into a deep-rooted fear of the rest of her family abandoning her. Cate not coming home would have amplified that fear.

She normally played mediator between the two of them so she understood both of her sisters’ emotions. But it was hard to keep a lid on her own concern to make sure Maggie didn’t act on her own.

Her sister slumped after a few minutes, sighing. “You promise we’ll look?” she said in a small voice.

Squeezing her hand, Bea murmured, “I promise. I’ll get everything ready.”

Dark eyes searched her own before she sighed again. “Alright. I need to help open the bakery. Did you have breakfast?”

There was no hiding her flinch this time and Maggie’s eyes narrowed.

“You aren’t skipping meals again, are you?”

“No. I’ll eat.”

“You will,” Maggie said firmly. “Come to the bakery before you leave. I’ll give you something to eat on the way.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll make something.”

“I don’t trust you. You never eat properly if we leave you alone and you have that meeting with the investor today.”

“Mr. Hale has a meeting, not me.”

“You’re the only reason they’re still open to get an investor,” Maggie huffed. “They’ll want to talk to you if they want to know anything about the shop.”

She really hoped they didn’t want to. “Get going before you’re late.”

“Don’t forget to stop by before you leave!”

Bea forced herself to smile as Maggie left before sagging in her chair. This wasn’t how she thought today was going to go. First, one sister missing and the other on her ass. She’d merely wanted to get through the day without incident. It was bad enough that with the investor wanting to visit, Richard and Sissy would likely be at the shop. They’d be in the way and make things harder on the ones that actually worked there.

Twisting in her seat, she looked into the next room. What could have happened to Cate? It wasn’t like her at all to not come home. If she’d been running late, she would have sent word. Forget sending word; she couldn’t remember her sister ever spending the night out. Despite the fact that she and Maggie were grown adults, she was fairly certain Cate still checked to make sure they were in their rooms at the end of the night.

Bea pushed out of her chair and walked into the sitting room. She approached a small side table in the far corner of the room. A flower arrangement took up most of the surface and in the center of it was a trio of candles, each a different colour.

Taking a steadying breath, she passed her hand above the candles and watched flames flicker to life on all three. Each flame burnt the same colour as the candle. The yellow and black ones were steady, burning smoothly. But the orange one’s flame was diminished and flickering wildly in distress.

“Why didn’t you call, Cate?” Bea muttered. She gripped the coin hanging around her neck and tried to focus. If Cate had been caught, any word or sign she sent would be traced and bring more harm than good. But there was strength in numbers and, even being cautious, there was little the three of them couldn’t overcome together.

Closing her eyes, she let go of the coin and said, “Come to me.”

A moment later she felt something curling around her legs and purring filled the room.

She needed to make a choice now because she knew only one of them would leave her side. She couldn’t command both to. So did she send one to find the stable sister who had disappeared or to keep an eye on the chaotic sister who might not wait for tonight?

“Jynx,” she said softly, “find Catherine Calloway.”

A pleased meow before more purring.

Looking down, she saw a single black cat at her feet, yellow eyes staring back at her. She leaned over to scoop him up and dropped a kiss between his ears. ��Stay with me today, Grimm,” she whispered. “I’m going to need all the support I can get.”

A soft paw touched her cheek, the purring growing louder.

She took a deep breath and strode toward her bedroom. The sooner this day was over and they had answers, the better.

Blowing smoke out the carriage window, Jude reviewed the contract in his hand. He knew every line, every word. He’d drafted it himself but he wasn’t above another check. He doubted the one who had signed it had done so as thoroughly as he should have. Wasn’t his problem though. Worked more in his favour that way.

“You look happy.”

“The fuck I do,” he growled, putting the contract away. “Shouldn’t have to check on a business ‘cause the shit who owns it doesn’t know shit about it.”

Ellis hummed softly. “He did say it was his father’s shop.”

“Family business and he’s family. He should know how to run the shop.” The fact that he didn’t was another point in Jude’s favour. It was highly likely that they were going to default on the contract in one way or another.

Before drafting the contract, he’d gathered enough information on this family to know it was going to pan out for hin in the end. The dressmaker’s shop had been in the family for generations but neither the current nor former generations had picked up the trade. Despite that, they were still popular enough and seemed successful on the outside. But the family itself was a mess. A father who doted shamelessly on his daughter and a mother who preferred drink to her own family. A shameless son with a gambling addiction and a spoiled daughter who spent her every moment trying to climb the social ladder.

A single look at their personal habits had told him all he needed to know about why he’d been approached for help.

Yet their shop remained afloat. That was the reason on paper for this visit. Even with everything he’d learned about the family, it had been nearly impossible to find any information on those that worked there. Any he’d sent had merely come away confused which wasn’t right. So now he was going to see what the hell was going on.

His upper lip curled back. Victor had caught wind of the situation and made it something official to be investigated. It pissed him off that, on top of taking in that unlucky woman last night, the idiot was poking his nose where it didn’t belong. He had no interest in collecting more cursed; he just wanted to know what the fuck was going on in this shop and if it was going to interfere with his contract.

It was far more likely the people he’d tasked this with were idiots and got drunk instead.

An irritated noise left him. He had better things to do than check up on spoiled brats that were an easy mark. But here he fucking was.

The carriage rolled to a stop and Ellis hopped out. Jude followed, finishing his cigarette. He stared up at the sign proudly proclaiming the business and exhaled a waft of smoke. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, striding toward the door.

A little bell overly enthusiastically announced their arrival and every eye turned to them. Jude paid it no mind, heading to the counter and the official looking person standing behind it.

For his credit, the man didn’t run but Jude didn’t miss the balk. “Welcome, sir. How can I assist you?”

“Richard’s expectin’ me.”

Pale eyes widened. “Ah, Mr. Jazza? Of course. Wait here and I will fetch him.”

Watching as the man scurried away, Jude could feel the eyes still on him. It wasn’t surprising. This was a woman’s shop and he stood out like a sore thumb.

Whispers raced around the shop as he waited and, while he didn’t outright pay attention, he heard every word they said. Drumming his fingers on the counter top, he counted the minutes he was kept waiting. They’d known he was coming at this time; what the fuck was the hold up?

“Mr. Jazza!”

That was not Richard. He watched with disinterest as the young woman flounced over to him. The daughter. What was she doing here? Everything he’d learned had said she rarely came to the shop. Meaning she was here because of him. “I was expectin’ your brother.”

She stopped abruptly, a mix of emotions racing across her face. But he saw them and wasn’t about to forget them. Clearly he wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She quickly settled on the smile again but the edges were fake. “Richard’s coming. He wanted me to entertain you first while he finished his business.”

There wasn’t anything entertaining about her. She looked like an overdone doll and didn’t sound much better. “My time’s valuable and I’ve only got so much to spend here. If your brother doesn’t value our contract, I can take my business elsewhere.”

Something in her eyes shifted, a calculating look filling them for a moment. That he recognised. She was trying to figure out what she could get out of him. “I can show you whatever you want to see,” she said, reaching for his arm.

He smoothly dodged her attempt. “Haven’t even told me your name.”

She didn’t look pleased with him at all but her smile stayed put. “Oh, how rude of me. You can call me Sissy.”

He really wasn’t going to do that. “I want to see the shop, see what I invested in.”

Panic for a moment now, quickly stifled. “Oh, of course. Come this way.”

She didn’t look confident at all which just further proved she didn’t know anything about the business. Had Richard thought he’d be distracted by his sister enough to forget why he was there?

Anger coiled in his gut at that thought. If Richard thought that would work on him, he was in for a rude surprise. The contract between them was the only thing keeping his ass safe if he kept trying that shit. The moment he broke it….

Ellis fell into step behind him as they moved toward the back and Jude took a slow breath. He’d dealt with idiots all his life. This wasn’t going to be any different. All he needed was some answers and then he could be done with this place.

But he frowned immediately as they stepped into the workroom to find it empty. “Where are they?” he asked.

“Oh, we sent them on break,” Sissily said breezily, waving a hand. “They don’t know anything anyways.”

Jude took another breath. “How long does it take to finish a custom order?” he asked.

She blinked at him. “Pardon?”

“How much does it cost in materials to finish an order?”

She took a small step back from him, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, well, I don’t-”

“How many repeat clients ya have that put in regular orders?”

He wasn’t surprised when he saw tears flood her limpid eyes at the questions. “Mr. Jazza, I-”

“Get the head seamstress or your brother. I wanna see if this was actually worth my time.”

She quickly fled the room, a further sign that she had no idea how to run this business. Yes, he was an investor but to leave him unsupervised among their goods?

Jude made a sharp noise and strode toward a window. He shoved it open, wanting fresh air. They hadn’t even been here ten minutes and he already wanted out. These people were going to set his teeth on edge every time he dealt with them. But he would deal with it until they ultimately created their own doom.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikevil fanfic #oc: bea calloway #jude x oc #ikevil oc

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ten-cent-sleuth · 1 year ago

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A Galling Yoke, Part 1

Next ->

for the Cutting Communication or Can’t Talk Right Now square on my July Break Bingo card

See this post for main info, including a masterlist and synopsis. See this post for warnings.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x f!Reader

Rating: Teen (and really only that ’cause angst tbh)

“Ma’am?”

You looked up from your needlework and smiled at Mrs Rogers, who was currently dusting your sitting-room windowsill. Such work was naturally a maid’s, but your housekeeper enjoyed your company and you hers.

“Yes, Mrs Rogers?”

“I believe I hear knocking below-stairs.”

You let a bit of impertinence tinge your smile. “’Tis perfectly respectable calling hours.”

She gave you an exasperated look but, with that Rogers forbearance you so admired, refrained from rolling her eyes. “I see your family crest on the street, ma’am. Two gentlemen have alighted from the cabriolet.”

Perking up, you set aside your needlework. “William?”

Mrs Rogers leaned back to take a furtive glance out the window. “I could not say, ma’am. Neither of the gentlemen cuts the familiar figure his lordship does, but I could be mistaken. It has been an age since Lord Pashbroke visited us.”

You nodded with a frown.

As much as your brother’s fortnightly visits had irked you, you were still his older sister, so you still fretted when he had failed to show his ugly mug all autumn. You knew the end of this year’s Season had been rough on him—he had gone back to the family estate, back to your father, yet again without a bride—but you didn’t imagine that would keep him away. If anything, he ought to have been visiting all the more frequently to escape your father’s disappointed glowers and unhelpful lectures.

Just the thought of having to put up with those made your lip curl with displeasure, even though it had been over a decade since you’d been under your father’s authority.

Your butler swept into the room, sparing Mrs Rogers a soft smile before turning to you and reading the calling-cards in his hand: “Lord Coltidge and Mr Holmes.”

A slight gasp slipped past your lips, and as Mr Rogers stepped aside to let the two gentlemen enter the sitting-room, only the decades-old and deeply ingrained strictures of decorum moved you to your feet. Your guests returned your curtsy with bows, the former’s being shallow and almost begrudging, the latter’s being low and almost humble.

Your butler cleared his throat. “My lady, may I introduce you to Mr Holmes?”

You were too dizzy to know if you had actually nodded, but you must have, for Mr Rogers went on—

“Mr Holmes of Baker Street, younger son of the late Mr Holmes of Ferndell Hall. Mr Holmes, this is the daughter of Lord Coltidge, Lady—”

Before even a syllable of your name could get past the man’s lips, Sherlock—Mr Holmes, you admonished yourself—had the nerve to smile and say, “Little petal.”

Your every muscle tensed, your butler’s jaw slackened, and your father’s head whipped around to stare at his… Yes, what was Sherlock to him? Friend? Guest?

In the interest of finding out, you forced out a light chuckle. “Worry not, Father,” you said. “If you recall, Ferndell Hall is neighbours with our family’s estate in Shropshire. As such, the Holmes brothers and I are…acquainted.”

The word tasted bitter on your tongue, and you averted your eyes when you glimpsed the hurt in Sherlock’s own.

“Yes, acquainted…,” he said, all his audacity from moments ago deflating. “I—that is, Mycroft and I—took to calling her ladyship little nicknames. Childish things.”

Turning his nose upwards, your father sniffed. “Childish indeed. You would do well to remember I have brought you here for business, not pleasure.”

Sherlock seemed unaffected by Lord Coltidge’s reprimand, his focus weighing down on you instead. To regain your equanimity, you turned to your servants and nodded in dismissal; Mrs Rogers offered you an encouraging smile before ushering out her husband, who was harrumphing quite dramatically at being asked to make an introduction that had, apparently, been unnecessary.

Gesturing for your callers to sit, you returned to your own chair.

“What business, Father?” you asked, pointedly looking at Lord Coltidge and not the other man in the room. “Could William not have made this trip rather than trouble you with the journey here? I imagine Mr Holmes has quite the schedule, being expected all over London for his cases.”

Sherlock’s gaze sharpened. “You pay attention to my work, ah—” He faltered, and you realised his uncharacteristic stumble was because he had almost called you your Christian name. “My lady?” he amended quickly; your heart twisted, both wanting to leap in gratitude and crumble in disappointment that he and his brilliant mind had so swiftly figured out your desire to act with more formality than the two of you were accustomed to.

Had been accustomed to.

Mr Holmes must be reminded of that, you resolved.

“I hardly have to pay,” you quipped, “when your exploits—and, now, your sister’s exploits—are the talk of the ton every few weeks.”

The look on Sherlock’s face was unfamiliar to you, but before you could puzzle out what it meant, your father’s stern eyes berated you for your impertinence. Demurely—and resentfully—you folded your hands in your lap and looked down at them.

Lord Coltidge hummed nasally. “I see you have felt William’s absence; I concede he has not been himself. ’Tis my concern, however, not yours. No, your concern is this: I have received troubling intelligence that our dear Edmund’s death may not have been the accident we believed it was.”

Ice water soused your already fried nerves. Edmund. Our dear Edmund. Shall I never find peace from him?

“Naturally, I have engaged Mr Holmes’s services to look into the matter. You shall help him in whatever way he requires, madam.”

You clasped your clammy hands together to keep them from shaking. “Of… Of course, Father.” Blast your trembling voice!

“It has been so many years since his passing”—over a decade, your mind specified; over a decade of a widow’s freedom—“but Mr Holmes assures me that this shall be no obstacle. You shall be grateful to him, for he is being generous in taking on this case so unlike his others. I should have realised such generosity was because of a prior connection.”

Your father’s voice turned disdainful; you did not dare look up to gauge whether he was disdaining you or Sherlock.

“Indeed,” he continued, his tone suddenly and surprisingly darkening, “I do not expect this to be a terribly puzzling case.”

“I am—happy, to take it on, nevertheless,” said Sherlock rather hurriedly. Even without looking, you knew his gaze was darting between you and Lord Coltidge. “May we— May I begin, my lord?”

As your father stood and made his way to the door, you finally permitted yourself to raise your eyes. Instantly, they met Sherlock’s; to your surprise, he looked away first.

“Good day, daughter,” your father said, his back already towards you as he exited the sitting-room. You allowed your lip to curl in displeasure once again; had you not seen for yourself just how proper Lord Coltidge could be when he had an audience worth pleasing, you would have thought the man genuinely incompetent at basic courtesy. But no, you knew his rude leave-taking was entirely designed for you.

Yet you had bigger concerns than your father’s scorn. Namely, being left alone with one Sherlock Holmes.

Standing up with all the ladylike poise you did not feel, you regarded your old friend. You had not seen Sherlock in a decade and a half—not even heard from him, which was an abrupt adjustment after years of sharing everything—not since the train platform where promises destined to shatter like tungsten were forged, but he had not changed overmuch. Though his manner of holding himself had matured and his form now filled his stature more neatly, his soft hair still curled disobediently across his forehead and his dark eyes still drank in everything in his view with neither dispensation nor discrimination. His character could not have changed all that much, either, if you could still recognise your childhood companion in his diction, in his appraisal, in his society.

You clung to the hope that you had changed enough for the both of you.

“What do you require, sir?” you asked.

“It has been a while, petal,” he said at the same time.

You winced with the belated understanding that he had been inspecting you as tentatively as you had been him. He winced with the, you presumed, embarrassment of learning you did not intend to reinstate your old familiarity even in your father’s absence.

“I apologise,” he said, his brow furrowed. “It…truly has been a while, your ladyship.”

Yes. For better and for worse, it had.

“I should like to see your husband’s effects to begin,” he went on, regaining his footing with every word. “Have you kept any with you?”

With a nod, you led Sherlock out of the sitting-room. “The master’s chambers and Edmund’s study are largely untouched. A solicitor went through them to carry out his will and a maid ensures they remain clean, of course, but his personal belongings are quite undisturbed.”

“Good. Very good. That maximises the insights I shall gain from perusing them, although—”

You glanced at Sherlock, his hesitation rather unlike him. “Although?”

Blinking slowly at you, he did not speak for a few moments. “You must have been truly fond of him.”

In spite of yourself—or, truthfully, in spite of your quality lady’s education—you scoffed. “What an idea, Mr Holmes. Even my father, who thinks himself wise enough to give me exactly what shall make me happy, no matter whether I asked for it, does not entertain the notion that I was fond of Mr Sulyard.”

Scowling now, Sherlock argued, “I have often noted that when a parent loses a beloved child tragically, they maintain the child’s nursery bed and chest of toys exactly as they had it.”

“I am not a parent, and I did not lose a beloved child,” you countered. “Simply, I did not want to give Edmund any more space in my mind than necessary. Have I need for his bed or his chest of toys? No. Therefore, have I need to spend time and effort on clearing them? No.”

Sherlock opened his mouth, but you cut him off with a grand sweep of your arm.

“And here we arrive at his study,” you announced. “Ring for assistance if you would like to see anything else today. As my father said, I shall help you in whatever way you require, so you may visit multiple days should this afternoon not suffice. Concern yourself not with calling hours—I shall instruct my butler to let you in at any time of day, and you need not greet me. Good day, Mr Holmes.”

Not waiting to see if he would try to get another word in or whether he would bow to your insolence, you curtsied and turned on your heel.

As soon as you were a safe distance from the study, far enough away to not feel suffocated by the knowledge of Sherlock’s presence, of his nearness, you leaned against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut. A visit from a hovering younger brother would indeed have been preferable to this—to the reopening of a thousand wretched wounds.

Thank you for reading. I hope you will keep up with the coming chapters! I’ve got plenty in store for y’all haha. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged. :) Feedback is always welcome!

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill sherlock x reader #enola holmes #a galling yoke #the dimensions of fandom

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morning-star-joy · 9 months ago

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WIP Wednesday Thursday

thank you for the tag @sp00kymulderr I love your fics sm <3

Step one: post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet)

Step two: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on

Step three: every vote is one minute you put on a timer to work on that fic (ex. 15 votes = 15 minutes of writing)

the killer doesn't understand pt 6 (Post-Outbreak Neighbors)

It took every fiber of his being to attempt to keep you at arms length, and it still wasn’t enough to keep you away. He could bite and you’d still be back, still offering him scraps of food from the palm of your hand, trying to feed a feral wolf in a stray dog’s skin. It’s his fault. It’s always his fault.

daydreams pt 2 (Touch-Starved!Joel x F!Reader)

The heat that rushes towards his face and warms his tired bones when he walks through the front doors of the bakery is welcome, as startling as the comforting smell of freshly baked bread and other sweet delights always is. Being in the small store along one of Jackson’s main streets is always an odd, forbidden sort of time travel to a bygone era of early morning coffee runs and frustrating traffic to get there that no longer existed. It’s a place he wouldn’t have frequented just months before. A place where he now greeted the smiling, albeit sleepy faces of the bakers by name and a nod of appreciation for their hard work. They had made a comment only once, a kind little joke about how much he liked the scones he picked up every Tuesday morning like clockwork. He was ready to snatch them up as soon as they had cooled down enough from the oven for the fresh orange glaze to be layered on top.

tarnished but so grand (Regency!Joel x F!Reader)

“You’ll despise it there,” Joel told the determined Miss Williams for the tenth time as she shoved another piece of luggage into the back of the carriage. “You would be much happier staying here with Miss Servopoulos.” Ellie sent a glance back towards the ranch’s beloved protection, cross-legged on the porch’s rocking chair with a shotgun across her lap. The woman was armed to the teeth as always, her hat resting over her face as her ears stayed alert to what was happening, no doubt hearing as Ellie sighed. “She’ll do just fine without me,” the young woman said simply before she turned back to give Joel an unimpressed glance over. “But you? They’re going to eat you alive ‘cross the water, old man.”

bloodshed, crimson clover pt 2 (Jackson Joel x Doctor F!Reader)

He may as well be a ghost, the way he haunts you. Sometimes you really do think that’s all Joel Miller was—a spectral force, maybe more divine than man in his fury. You certainly clung onto his visage like a prayer, replaying every moment where he danced just out of your grasp. Trying to remember the way the smog-addled QZ sun filtered through the dingy windows of your clinic to reflect in his eyes. Hazel, you have to remind yourself sometimes, ten years later. Not just brown, or even green, but a beautiful combination of the two, a swirling of two colors that spoke much of the dual nature within him, the conflict that raged inside a body honed to kill, even with the glimpses you had caught of him being so much more.

men like you chapter 4 (Arthur Morgan x F!OC)

Arthur knew that Miss Taylor was a beautiful woman. He’d thought it when she had been caked with dried blood upon their first meeting, wild hair and wilder eyes, ready to kill him in a moment if he moved wrong. He still thought it when she glared at him, face scrunched up in contempt at the mere insult of his very presence. Her tenacity, her fire, were things of true beauty that he hoped their way of life would never stamp out, even if they perplexed and frustrated him to no end. He thought it even more now, with the display of her vulnerability that he had never seen. Even if it was just an unintended consequence to their unfortunate situation of being in such forced close proximity to each other.

some violent, exquisite happenstance (Arthur Morgan x Ex-Outlaw F!Reader)

Arthur huffs, annoyance bleeding into his good intentions even as his own hand twitches by his own killer instinct just from the sight of you so ready to draw in case he dared to move wrong. “Now, ya really think I’m gonna shoot you after all that?” He gestures towards the fixed carriage, all your belongings back in place, and you have the infuriating gall to just shrug at his exasperation. “Stranger things have happened.”

np tags: @cavillscurls @5oh5 @sweetercalypso @joelsdagger @punkshort @honeyedmiller @eupheme (sorry if you've done it already, goldfish memory)

#wips #wip poll #wip game #doni writes #I'm prioritizing some writing for killer doesn't understand for write night!! but just really am itching to write a lot rn <3

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autistpride · 7 months ago

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How many of these famous autists do you recognize? And this isn't even a complete list!

So many amazing wonderful people are autistic. I will never understand why people hate us so much.

Actors/actresses/entertainment:

Chloe Hayden

Talia Grant

Rachel Barcellona

Sir Anthony Hopkins

Dan Akroyd

David Byrne

Darryl Hannah

Courtney Love

Jerry Seinfeld

Roseanne Barr

Jennifer Cook

Chuggaaconroy

Stephanie Davis

Rick Glassman

Paula Hamilton

Dan Harmon

Paige Layle

Matthew Labyorteaux

Wentworth Miller

Desi Napoles

Freddie Odom Jr

Kim Peek

Sue Ann Pien

Henry Rodriguez

Scott Steindorff

Ian Terry

Tara Palmer -Tomkinson

Albert Rutecki

Billy West

Alexis Wineman- Miss America contestant

Athletes:

Jessica- Jane Applegate

Michael Brannigan

David Campion

Brenna Clark

Ulysse Delsaux

Tommy Dis Brisay

Jim Eisenreich

Todd Hodgetts

John Howard

Anthony Ianni

Lisa Llorens

Clay Matzo

Frankie Macdonald

Jason McElwain

Chris Morgan

Max Park

Cody Ware

Amani Williams

Samuel Von Einem

Musicians:

Susan Boyle

Elizabeth Ibby Grace

David Byrne

Johnny Dean

Tony DeBlois

Christopher Dufley

Jody Dipiazza

Pertti Kurikka

James Jagow

Ladyhawke

Kodi Lee

Left at London

Red Lewis Clark

Abz Love

Thristan Mendoza

Heidi Mortenson

Hikari Oe

Matt Savage

Graham Sierota

SpaceGhostPurp

Mark Tinley

Donald Triplett

Aleksander Vinter

Comedians:

Hannah Gatsby

Robert White

Bethany Black

Scientists/inventors/mathematians/Researchers:

Damian Milton

Bram Cohen

Michelle Dawson

Carl Sagan

Writers:

Neil Gaimen

Mel Bags

Kage Baker

Amy Swequenza

M. Remi Yergeau

Sean Barron

Lydia X Z Brown

Matt Burning

Dani Bowman

Nicole Cliffe

Laura Kate Dale

Aoife Dooley

Corrine Duyvus

Marianne Eloise

Jory Flemming

Temple Grandin

John R Hall

Naomi Higashida

Helan Hoang

Liane Holliday Willey

Luke Jackson

Rosie King

Thomas A McKean

Johnathan Mitchell

Jack Monroe

Caiseal Mor

Morenike Giwa- Onaiwu

Jasmine O'Neill

Brant Page Hanson

Dawn Prince-Hughs

Sue Robin

Stephen Shore

Andreas Souvitos

Sarah Stup

Susanna Tamaro

Chuck Tingle

Donna Williams

Leaders:

Julia Bascom

Ari Ne'eman

Sarah Marie Acevedo

Sharon Davenport

Joshua Collins

Conner Cummings

Kevin Healy

Poom Jenson

Amy Knight

Jared O'Mara

David Nelson

Shaun Neumeier

Master Sgt. Shale Norwitz

Jim Sinclair

Judy Singer

Dr. Vernon Smith

Artists:

Miina Akkijjyrkka

Danny Beath

Deborah Berger

Larry John Bissonnette

Patrick Francis

Goby

Jorge Gutierrez

Lina Long

Johnathan Lerman

Julian Martin

Haley Moss

Morgan Harper Nichols

Tim Sharp

Gilles Tehin

Willem Van Genk

Richard Wawro

Poets:

David Eastham

Christopher Knowles

David Miedzianik

Henriette Seth F

#autism acceptance #autism acceptence month #autism #asd #autistic pride #autistic #actually audhd

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glowing-disciple · 11 months ago

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Reading List - 2024

Currently Reading:

The Book of Dragons by Edith Nesbit

Peter and Wendy by J. M. Barrie

Sweet Sweet Revenge LTD by Jonas Jonasson

Books Read:

101 Famous Poems by Various Authors

The Abraham Lincoln Joke Book by Beatrice Schenk De Regniers

The Ancient Aliens Question by Philip Coppens

The Art of Computer Designing by Osamu Sato

The Broken Dice, and Other Mathematical Tales of Chance by Ivar Ekeland

The Cairngorms by Patrick Baker

The Codebreaker's Handbook by Herbie Brennan

The Color Kittens by Margaret Wise Brown

The Complete Book of Kitchen Collecting by Barbera E. Mauzy

Dinosaurs, Beware! A Safety Guide by Marc Brown

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Dreaming the Biosphere by Rebecca Reider

Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Frog and Toad are Friends by Arnold Lobel

Funny Number Tricks by Rose Wyler

Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobabe

Giant Sea Creatures, Real and Fantastic by John Frederick Waters

Great Mysteries of the Ice and Snow by Edward F. Dolan

Hammer of the Gods by Stephen Davis

Hiram's Red Shirt by Mabel Watts

A History of Chess by Jerzy Gizycki

I don't care by JoAnn Nelson

An Introduction to Linguistics by Loreto Todd

Jaws by Peter Benchley

Jungian Archetypes: Jung, Gödel, and the History of Archetypes by Robin Robertson

Keeper of the Bees by Gene Stratton-Porter

MASH: An Army Surgeon in Korea by Otto F. Apel

The Messier Objects Field Guide by Stephen James O'Meara

Out of the Silent Planet by C. S. Lewis

Precious Remedies Against Satan’s Devices by Thomas Brooks

Reflections on Evolution by Fredrick Sproull

Roadie: My Life on the Road with Coldplay by Matt McGinn

Some of The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood of Great Renown in Nottinghamshire by Howard Pyle

Strange Creatures of the Ice and Snow by Edward F. Dolan

Time for Bed, Sleepyheads by Normand Chartier

Weird Islands by Jean de Boschère

Future Reading:

A Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton-Porter

Adventures in Cryptozoology Vol. 1 by Richard Freeman

All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren

Always Running by Luis J. Rodriguez

Ancient Mysteries, Modern Visions by Philip S. Callahan

The Anti-Mary Exposed by Carrie Gress

The Arm of the Starfish by Madeleine L'Engle

The Art Nouveau Style by Stephan Tschudi Madsen

As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner

Black Beauty by Anna Sewell

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

The Call of the Wild by Jack London

The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger

Champions of the Rosary by Donald H. Calloway

The Color Purple by Alice Walker

The Complete Works of H. P. Lovecraft

Cubism by Guillaume Apollinaire

Dear Mr. Henshaw by Beverly Cleary

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card

Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett

Evolution by Nowell Stebbing

Expressionism by Ashley Bassie

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

Fearsome Creatures of the Lumberwoods by Hal Johnson

Found in a Bookshop by Stephanie Butland

Frankenstein by Mary Shelly

Freaks on the Fells by R. M. Ballantyne

Freckles by Gene Stratton-Porter

Fundamentals of Character Design by Various Authors

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

The History of Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miquel de Cervantes Saavedra

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

Humorous Ghost Stories by Various Authors

I, Robot by Isaac Asimov

Illuminated Manuscripts by Tamara Woronowa

The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells

Joan Miro by Joan Miro

The Jungle by Upton Sinclair

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

Light of the Western Stars by Zane Grey

Living by the Sword by Eric Demski

The Longest Cocktail Party by Richard DiLello

Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis

North and South by Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell

Otis Spofford by Beverly Clearly

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster

The Shining by Stephen King

The Silmarillion by J R R Tolkien

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

Strange Love by Ann Aguirre

The River by Gary Paulsen

Things My Son Needs to Know About the World by Fredrik Backman

The Third Man Factor by John Geiger

The Time Machine by H. G. Wells

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells

We Are Where the Nightmares Go and Other Stories by C. Robert Cargill

The Weiser Field Guide to Cryptozoology by Deena West Budd

The White Mountains by John Christopher

#reading list #to update as I go

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sunships · 3 months ago

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Pinned :3

I interact from @sunnymorality !!!

Basic DNI and no proshippers

f/os and more info/BYF in read more !! ^^

f/o list:

Platonic:

Patton Sanders (Dad) Sanders sides / Tag: second cookie

Linus Baker (Dad) House In The Cerulean Sea / Tag: angelic adoptions

Felix Kranken (Dad) The Walten Files / Tag: trying his best (he’s not)

Kinger (Dad) The Amazing Digital Circus / Tag: checkmates

Canon and AU Vanessa Afton (Besties) fnaf movie / Tag: sorry for dating your dad

Canon and AU Mike Schmidt (Besties) fnaf movie / Tag: besties at your own risk

Complicated:

CANON William Afton (friends) fnaf movie

Romantic:

AU versions of William Afton /fnaf movie / Tag: rabbit hearted

Ford Pines /Gravity Falls / Tag: the author of my heart

The Narrator /The Stanley Parable / Tag: he yaps I listen

The Shade (Richard Swift) /DC Stargirl / Tag: shadowy hugs

Sharing:

I don’t care about sharing! If anything I’m excited to share f/os that’s so neat!!! I love to hear others takes and relationships with blorbos!!

BYF:

I’m new to the self ship community and am mostly here just to be silly and talk about my blorbos. Please use tone tags with me. Also just a disclaimer obviously I don’t condone some of my f/o’s actions I just have bad taste 😭

#pinned post #intro #self ship #oc x canon #self insert #sunny speaks

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mariacallous · 10 months ago

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The good folks at the Know Your Enemy podcast (Matthew Sitman and Sam Adler-Bell) did a recent episode w/ Erik Baker called “Bomb Power,” named after the 2010 book by Garry Wills, Bomb Power: The Modern Presidency and the National Security State.

As someone who spent the first half of his career doing guns-and-bombs security studies, I can’t believe I hadn’t heard of this book before listening to the podcast.

Upon Google-Scholar-ing Bomb Power, I discovered it had 166 citations—very, very modest for an author as well-known as Wills. And scanning through who’s been citing it, I see mostly historians (not international-relations or strategic studies scholars). So I suppose my ignorance about the book is normal within my field.

But their discussion on the episode triggered me in a few ways, leading me to ponder what happened to the conservatives who support peace—that used to be a thing.

A “Don’t Break Things” Conservative

Wills’s politics don’t map well onto our current context.

He had ties to William F. Buckley and the National Review crowd. And his prolific writing often went after liberals, especially Kennedy (though his book Nixon Agonistes was a masterclass and did not spare Nixon of his critical prose).

But Wills recognized that power had a tendency to corrupt. That America itself had been guilty of great evils whose consequences it never repaired. And that if a preference for limited government meant anything at all, it meant a commitment to limiting the power of the national security state—there was no military exemption from the “limited government” mantra.

When I was finishing my PhD at the Catholic University of America (I enrolled there having no idea about its very conservative reputation), I studied under and socialized with conservatives like Wills. They mostly hated the Bush administration, generally thought the Iraq War was insane, and were critical of what had become the imperial presidency. (Before you romanticize them too much, they also hosted Brett Kavanaugh and Newt Gingrich at various times, they largely believed in civilizational (as in clash of civilizations) politics, and some of them seemed to think race science had merit…)

These days, it’s fairly common for people to claim they’re progressive while actually being center-right economic liberals with limited tolerance for anything redistributive. Wills cut in the opposite direction. As the Know Your Enemy guys talk about in the episode, Wills at times took up policy positions that we would think of as progressive, but he identified as a conservative. Why?

Aside from personal affection for the label, I suspect this has to do with his Burkean “don’t break things” sensibility, as well as the sense that 1) the common good is achievable within the nation-state itself, 2) the Founding Fathers had something to teach us and/or were extraordinary, and 3) the Constitution is a holy-adjacent document.

I think that perspective is intellectually unsatisfying and a political dead end. But YMMV.

The important thing is that folks who believe that stuff are folks you can work with sometimes. And if you’re in mortal danger, they’re the kind of American who just might help you out. More importantly, if any part of the right is recruitable into an antifascist coalition, it’s the “don’t break things” conservatives.

An Endangered Species

You can still find conservatives like Wills out there in American society. I know of one or two pundits who would fit this category of principled, preservationist conservatism. And, funnily enough, there are a lot of these types in New Zealand (a country with every type of conservative).

But in Washington, this species of conservative doesn’t exist. Not a single Republican official can claim fidelity to the Willsian template. To a man—and they’re mostly men—the electoral GOP has repudiated everything meaningful in the “don’t break things” tradition.

Talking Like a Peacenik

The remarkable thing about Wills’s Bomb Power is how much it reads like a leftist critical text. It would go too far to call Wills a historical materialist, but his implicit philosophy is not incompatible with it.

His invocation of the national security state—a term with which any Un-Diplomatic reader is by now very familiar—originated with Marcus Raskin, a co-founder of the Institute for Policy Studies (the first progressive think tank in Washington). IPS was and remains an expressly antimilitarist presence in Washington, and one of the few institutions there that can claim ties to the peace progressives who constitute what I think are the grassroots of the Democratic Party.

Wills’s reference to permanent war and the economy that supports it owes to Seymour Melman, a left-aligned peace intellectual who popularized (and possibly coined) “permanent war economy” through a series of books and essays that deserve a much wider reading.

And Wills’s claim that nuclear weapons are fundamentally tools of despotism that have permanently disempowered democracy is a pretty common view on the left going back to George Orwell’s classic essay, “You and the Atom Bomb” (which I still teach!).

What all this suggests is that Wills was a conservative who read widely. You might even say he was open-minded.

As such, he made analytical use of the criticisms against the powerful rendered by people with whom he likely disagreed. And he did so, at least partly, in the name of peace. Good luck finding someone like that in the Republican Party today.

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politicalrpf · 1 month ago

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Tagging system

I tag each post with the politician, time period, and genre of post (photograph/newspaper/etc). I use the tag "vintage" for anything created before 2000. Almost every post is blanket tagged with “politics”. Additional tags include "campaigning", for images depicting rallies/politicians out campaigning/etc., and "campaign memorabilia", for products produced in conjunction with a campaign.

Included in this post are links to search a given tag directly. While you could just search a subject, this post condenses (almost) every tag I’ve ever used into one post that is, hopefully, easily accessible.

Everything I post was found elsewhere, with the exception of posts tagged “my scans”. Posts under this tag include magazines, photographs, etc., that I have scanned and cropped myself, using (my school’s) scanner.

Internet-specific tags: old web, Internet Archive, Geocities (all of these are usually tagged in conjunction with "1990s" or "2000s", never by themselves.) The "Internet Archive" and "Geocities" tags exist to represent where I found an older image or gif; all posts found on Geocities will also be tagged with "Internet Archive", but not vice/versa. Additionally, “PNG” is used for transparent images, “gif” for moving images (aside from Geocities graphics, all gifs are made myself); “video” for moving images with audio.

Time period tags (some may have only been used once): 1910s, 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, 2010s.

Frontrunner candidate tags (some have only been used once; candidate not included if I don't have a tag for them):

1932: Franklin Delano Roosevelt / Franklin D. Roosevelt / FDR, Herbert Hoover

1944: Thomas Dewey

1948: Harry Truman

1952: Dwight D. Eisenhower, Adlai Stevenson

1960: John F. Kennedy / JFK, Richard Nixon

1964: Lyndon B. Johnson / LBJ, Barry Goldwater

1968: Richard Nixon & Spiro Agnew, Hubert Humphrey & Ed Muskie, George Wallace

1972: George McGovern & Sargent Shriver

1976: Jimmy Carter, Gerald Ford

1980: Ronald Reagan, John Anderson

1984: Walter Mondale / Fritz Mondale & Geraldine Ferraro

1988: George H. W. Bush & Dan Quayle, Michael Dukakis

1992: Bill Clinton, Ross Perot

1996: Bob Dole

2000: Al Gore, George W. Bush & Dick Cheney, Ralph Nader

2004: John Kerry & John Edwards

2008: John McCain

2012: Mitt Romney

Non-frontrunner Republican tags: Douglas MacArthur, Nelson Rockefeller, Henry Cabot Lodge, George Romney, John Connally, Al Haig, Donald Rumsfeld, Pat Buchanan

Other Republican tags: J. Edgar Hoover, Henry Kissinger, William Rogers, John Mitchell, Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice, William F. Buckley, Joe McCarthy, James Baker

Non-frontrunner Democrat tags: Robert F. Kennedy / RFK, John Lindsay, Ted Kennedy, Gary Hart, Jesse Jackson, Joe Biden, Howard Dean

Inanimate subject tags: photograph, political cartoon, magazine (MAD Magazine, LIFE Magazine), newspaper, political pin.

Event tags: WWII, Vietnam war, Watergate, Iran-Contra, Desert Storm (Gulf War), 9/11.

This is to be updated, if I think of anything else.

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companion-showdown · 5 hours ago

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Who is most important to the history of Doctor Who?

With 61 years under its belt, Doctor Who has changed a lot since it began all those years ago. Its continued survival has relied on that change and the countless people who made it happen. Trying to single out any one person as the most important to the history of the show would be near impossible, but hell if we aren't going to try.

bar a few of the most recognisable names, contestants for this tournament were decided by nomination only, so there are inevitably people missing who's contributions were just as valuable, please don't take anyone's absence as a slight against them or their work

the submission form for propaganda is still open

ROUND 1 (group stage)

Group 1

Carole Ann Ford

Jacqueline Hill

William Hartnell

William Russell

David Graham and Peter Hawkins

Group 2

Patrick Troughton

Frazer Hines

Nicholas Courtney

Jon Pertwee

Roger Delgado

Group 3

Liz Sladen

Pat Gorman

Stuart Fell

Tom Baker

Peter Davison

Colin Baker

Group 4

Sylvester McCoy

Sophie Aldred

Paul McGann

Lisa Bowerman

India Fisher

Sean Carlsen

Group 5

Christopher Eccleston

Billie Piper

David Tennant

Freema Agyeman

John Simm

Group 6

Matt Smith

Peter Capaldi

Jodie Whittaker

Ncuti Gatwa

Group 7

Michael Grade

Peter Cregeen

Sydney Newman

Gary Russell

Nicholas Briggs

Donald Wilson

Group 8

all the thousands of people who’ve worked behind the scenes

June Hudson

Peter Brachacki

Raymond Cusick

Group 9

John F Kennedy

Sue from Catering

the real people who have been portrayed in the show

William Russell

Group 10

Marnal Gate

Person who created TARDIS wiki

Craig Ferguson

The Audience

Group 11

BBC Radiophonic Workshop

Delia Derbyshire

Ron Grainer

Dudley Simpson

Paddy Kingsland

Peter Howell

Robert Harvey

Segun Akinola

Murray Gold

Group 12

Graeme Harper

Paddy Russell

Rachel Talalay

Waris Hussein

Christopher Barry

Richard Martin

Alice Troughton

Group 13

Barry Letts

Graham Williams

John Nathan Turner

Philip Hinchcliffe

Verity Lambert

Julie Gardner

Group 14

Alan Moore

Grant Morrison

Marc Platt

Paul Cornell

Kate Orman

Group 15

Justin Richards

Dave Stone

Lawrence Miles

Lance Parkin

Jonathan Blum

Robert Shearman

Group 16

David Whitaker

Terry Nation

Anthony Coburn

John Lucarotti

Gerry Davis

Kit Pedler

Terrance Dicks

Group 17

Robert Holmes

Douglas Adams

Eric Saward

Andrew Cartmel

Rona Munro

Russell T Davies

Steven Moffat

Chris Chibnall

#whostory: masterpost #doctor who

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sokai-asuki · 1 year ago

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Deep Blue Moon: "He's a Mathematician."

How Sherlock and William first meeting in my Role Reversal AU. (Sorry for any typo or grammar mistake in this post)

"Ah, how did you can guess his a soldier?"

"It is nothing much but just a deduction and observe, m'lady."

"But still, young man, are you sure you're not a detective?"

"No, I'm not, mister"

The next show that the Lord of Crime team has to made is to eliminate the next noble in here, on Noahtic. The said noble is Duke Blitz Enders, the noble who from London that inherited a fortune and became a head of the family.

Blitz is arrogant and flashy young noble with a good reputation amongst ladies for his good looking and hold a good place in high society. Another thing about Blitz are his hobby for hunting deer, it is not a bad thing since it is a typical among nobility. But there's a stories of his forest ground saying that "A Wolf is Lurking" and to stay away from that place.

According from Wiggins and the Baker Street Irregulars, the Enders family has been known for generation for abducting homeless people. One of the Baker Street Irregulars has said that one of the homeless people they have spoken before were last seen after they have planned to move to another street, either because of Blitz or they have died unknown.

Nonetheless, the rumors of them killing people, in a forest of their land, killing them as if they are a sheep and the Enders are a wolf among the sheep.

Right now, the plan is already been settle, but it seems Sherlock has to entertain the ladies that want to know about him. Well, while settling with the plan might as well entertain the audience that will witness his show.

"It seems I have guessed everyone's occupation, does that mean I won the bet?"

The bet the ladies make are that if he guesses everyone's occupation in the Noahtic with no one single mistake, they will leave him be. But if he fails, he have to entertain the ladies for more hours.

"Wait, there's one more person you have to guess!"

Really? But I think I have guessed everyone in her... Then he smiled, "Okay, one more person."

The ladies seem to be searching someone for Sherlock that he haven't guess yet.

"How about that young man? Can you guess what his work is?"

Sherlock look at the direction of where one of the lady point, she point at the blond man and with the unusual scarlet-red eyes. The man looking at the spiral staircase.

Sherlock can guess he look at the spiral staircase not because he admired the beauty of it. The man also not looking at the staircase just to make sure the balance of it is alright. So that can only mean...

"Isn't it obvious," when Sherlock said that, the man glance at the direction of Sherlock immediately, Ah, it seems I get his attention, "He's a Mathematician."

And so the explanation has be put down for Sherlock as he tells all of his answer from his deduction and observation skills.

"Ah, is that so? Then I must admit, all of what you said was true. I am indeed a teaching mathematics in University. However, more than Golden Ratio, I like the Fibonacci Sequence."

Sherlock just pretend to listen what the man and the ladies said, he just want everything to be over with so he can be ready for his stage. Before he can shut everything down in his mind, the next thing that the young man said has stopped him,

"Well then, since you guess my work with your observation skills, then let me repay that too for you."

Before Sherlock could say anything, the young man has already started, "That hands of yours, you look like you play violin but that doesn't mean you're a musician... And from the looks of it, you also seems to be doing a martial arts I assume. Hope you don't mind..."

The man slowly getting closer to Sherlock, Sherlock just stay still and seems be in frozen as the man continue his observation,

"And it seems," Did he just sniff on me?— "You have been doing a conduct science experiment but hate your own drug dependence I suppose. And it seems to be obvious you graduated from Oxbridge... And your cockney accent, must be proud to have that from your mother... Am I wrong?"

The ladies does seems to be fascinated by the man's observation but seems not too interested as the man keep on going with his observation on Sherlock.

Then Sherlock smile at the man, "How'd you know, mister..."

The man smile back, "Moriarty... And isn't it obvious?"

————

As Blitz run away from the Yard that has been assemble in the area, Sherlock look at everyone in the room to observe their reaction. Just as he expected, nothing surprised him other than the reaction of fear, shocked, surprised and anxious in his audience's face.

Until his eyes laid upon Mr. Moriarty from above, his eyes seems to be looking at the corpse. Is there something he notice?

Or does he know?

————

"Mr. Moriarty?"

After the show was over with Blitz Enders fall from the Noahtic, Sherlock started to seek for the Math Professor after landing on the land.

"Ah, it's you. Is there a problem?"

"What do you think?"

"Pardon?"

"What do you think about the murdered that has been on stage?" Sherlock want to see the professor's reaction but nothing change, "How would you as a noble react to your own fellow noble commited such a crime and die because of the consequences?"

Still no reaction from the man, but he let out a smile, "Ah, I knew you might be refered to that..."

Sherlock can't help but seeing that smile had just gives him something off about the man, "I may not get a closer look at the body but I can clearly see how pale the corpse are, more pale than any corpse when the very first time it being murdered. When I finally on the ground floor with my brother, I look closely at the body after being given permission to check on it. And what I found out is, the corpse has been long dead. Not as in it has been killed off-stage but, it has been killed last night before the opera."

Then the explanation has been given, this Math Professor —Sherlock would rather call him a detective than a professor— has been given him all the behind scene of his show. Sherlock couldn't help but felt a weird feeling inside of him.

Sherlock would not call it fear, nor anxious but this strange feeling. The more Mr. Moriarty continue on explaining everything, the more Sherlock can't help himself but feel fascinated by this man...

"Ah, it seems I have to go now," right, this man is a noble, "Before I go, we might cross path with each other again... So an introduction must be in need for our next encounter."

"Hm, you seems so confindence that we might meet again," Oh, we will, "The names Holmes. Sherlock Holmes."

The man let out a smile, "Sherlock Holmes, delighted to make your acquaintance. William James Moriarty, the second son of Moriarty."

William... Moriarty...

————

Bonus:

Sherlock after explaining the aftermath of the Noahtic to the crew: And I get this warmth, weird feeling in me. This man, not only explaining the behind scene of our show but all of that deduction of his is... So, mysterious and like another unsolvable puzzle... *his mind keep on and on focusing on William*

John, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson: What did that man do to you?! *worried for Sherlock because it might interfere with their plan*

Mycroft: Ah, he is having another phase of feeling he did not get, love... *support whatever the fuck Sherlock is saying*

Wiggins: Are we getting a new dad? *referring to the Baker Street Irregulars and him as having William as their second dad*

#yuumori #yuumori au #role reversal au #deep blue moon #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #sherlock holmes #william james moriarty #Does this count as Sherliam?#Sherliam

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