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fictionadventurer · 7 months

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I saw your post from 2020 about your Four Quadrants and I absolutely love them! I have wanted to get into Chesterton for a while but have never actually done it bc I have no idea where to start. I decided that you’d be likely to know where I should start based solely on my relating so much to the rest of what your post said. Do you have recommendations?

There are several answers to this question, depending on what type of writing you're interested in, because Chesterton wrote in a lot of different formats.

Novels: My favorite (and the one that feels most "Chestertonian" in the sense of embracing the joys and paradoxes of modern life) is Manalive, which is about a boarding house full of disaffected young people whose lives are upended by the arrival of the energetic and eccentric Innocent Smith, who may or may not be a dangerous lunatic. I'm also fond of his first novel, The Napoleon of Notting Hill, which is set in the far future of 1984, where the actions of two eccentric guys get London caught up in medieval warfare. That book addresses Chesterton's common theme of the tension between taking life too seriously and not taking it seriously enough, but it is a very odd book that's a bit more of an acquired taste.

Short stories: Chesterton's most enduring legacy in pop culture is the Father Brown mysteries--one of the few detectives at the time that wasn't just a Sherlock Holmes clone. These stories are half mystery and half philosophical essay, and I love them (and they're nothing like the TV show). I always tell people to start with the first collection, The Innocence of Father Brown, because the first four stories there--"The Blue Cross", "The Secret Garden", "The Queer Feet" and "The Flying Stars"--form an arc that should be read in chronological order, and the rest of the stories can be read in pretty much any order.

Poetry: Chesterton's big achievement is "The Ballad of the White Horse", a novel-length epic poem about the legends of King Alfred the Great and his war against the Danes. But if you don't feel like reading something so long, his other masterpiece is "Lepanto", a stirring poem about the Battle of Lepanto that saved Europe from a Turkish invasion (though that one is much better if you know the historical context). He also wrote this short, rather biting anti-war poem "Elegy in a Country Churchyard".

If you want something not about war, Chesterton was known for his love of Christmas, and he wrote several excellent Christmas poems, including "A Christmas Carol", "The Wise Men", "Gloria in Profundis", "Joseph" , and "A Child of the Snows".

(As long as we're talking about Christmas poems, I'm going to mention that his wife, Frances, was also a poet, and she wrote a Christmas poem every year for their family Christmas card, which include, "How Far Is It To Bethlehem" and "The Shepherds Found Thee By Night".)

Essays: Tremendous Trifles contains several of the humorous, insightful essays that are among the first things I think of when I think of the Chestertonian mindset, including "A Piece of Chalk", "The Advantages of Having One Leg", and "On Lying in Bed" . Perhaps my favorite Chesterton essay, "On Running After One's Hat" isn't in this collection, but feels like it should be.

Nonfiction: "Orthodoxy" is probably Chesterton's most famous and most accessible religious book, which outlines the worldviews that led him to embrace Christianity.

This last recommendation doesn't fit into any of the categories, but I can't finish a Chesterton introduction post without begging you to read this letter he wrote to his wife, Frances, not long after their engagement, because it may be one of the best love letters ever written.

#answered asks #g.k. chesterton #poetry #frances chesterton #father brown #manalive #the napoleon of notting hill #the ballad of the white horse #lepanto #orthodoxy

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anonymousewrites · 1 year

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A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 2) Chapter Four

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Chapter Four: Turbulent Christmas

Summary: Sherlock and (Y/N)'s frustrations with this case grow as Irene disappears for months on end.

“Eat,” said Sherlock as John put toast and jam down in front of them on the breakfast table.

“Only if you do,” countered (Y/N).

“Oh, come on, dear, you’re a growing kid. Eat up,” said Mrs. Hudson encouragingly.

(Y/N) sighed but obeyed. They and Sherlock both had a weakness for Mrs. Hudson, even if they pretended not to. She was a grandmotherly figure to them and watched out for them even when they were being idiots and not taking care of their health.

The door to flat 221B opened, and (Y/N) glanced up. Seeing it was Mycroft, they didn’t bother to respond and just went back to eating toast with blueberry jam.

“The photographs are safe,” said Sherlock by way of greeting.

He’s not wrong perse, thought (Y/N). Irene is going to keep them safe. She had stolen them back when she dropped off Sherlock’s coat.

“In the hands of a fugitive sex worker,” said Mycroft with as much dignity as he could muster through his grumpiness.

“She’s not interested in blackmail. She wants…protection for some reason,” said Sherlock. “I take it you’ve stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?”

“How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied,” said Mycroft, hands tight around his umbrella.

“Ironic choice of words,” said (Y/N) innocently, causing John to joke on his tea and Sherlock to smirk. Mycroft just scowled.

“You see how this works—the phone is her get-out-of-jail-free card. You have to leave her alone,” said Sherlock. “Treat her like royalty, Mycroft.”

“But not how she treats royalty,” added (Y/N).

John had to put his teacup down. He was going to keep choking if they kept going. A sigh echoed through the room, and everyone froze. It was distinctly feminine and distinctly sexual.

“Uh, what was that?” asked John.

“Text,” replied Sherlock, not looking up from his paper.

“But what was that noise?” questioned John.

Oh. Irene’s playing a game with him. (Y/N) was tempted to smile. Irene was clever. As long as she didn’t prove to be totally cruel and sadistic, (Y/N) thought they could end up liking her.

“Did you know there were other people after her, too, Mycroft, before you sent John, (Y/N), and me in there? CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess,” said Sherlock.

“It’s an absolute disgrace,” said Mrs. Hudson, bringing more toast to encourage (Y/N) to eat. She had learned that once they were eating, as long as they didn’t stop, it was pretty easy to keep them going for longer. Otherwise, (Y/N) would go back to ignoring their needs and focus on the case. “Really, sending your little brother and a teenager into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes,” reprimanded Mrs. Hudson.

“Oh, shut up, Mrs. Hudson,” snapped Mycroft.

Mrs. Hudson gasped, and Sherlock, John, and (Y/N) all exclaimed, “Mycroft!”

Mycroft cringed at their glares and looked at Mrs. Hudson. “Apologies.”

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Hudson primly. Sherlock’s phone sighed again, and she frowned. “Oh, that’s a bit rude, that noise, isn’t it?”

Sherlock glanced at the message and put his phone back without answering. “There’s nothing you can do and nothing she will do as far as I can see,” said Sherlock, continuing his conversation with Mycroft.

“I can put maximum surveillance on her,” said Mycroft.

“Why bother? You can follow her on twitter. I believe her username is ‘TheWhipHand,’ ” said Sherlock.

“Yes. Amusing,” said Mycroft sneeringly. His phone rang, and he stood. “Excuse me. Hello?” He walked into the hall so (Y/N) and Sherlock couldn’t listen in like they’d like to.

John cleared his threat. “Sherlock. Why does your phone make that noise?”

“What noise?” asked Sherlock, acting oblivious.

“That noise—the one it just made,” said John.

“It’s a text alert. It means I’ve got a text,” said Sherlock.

“Your texts don’t usually make that noise,” said John.

“Someone decided to personalize their alert sound, apparently,” said (Y/N).

“So every time they text him—” John was punctuated by a sigh from Sherlock’s phone.

“Evidently,” said Sherlock.

“Bond Air is a go, that’s decided. Check with the Coventry lot. Talk later,” said Mycroft as he rejoined them.

(Y/N) cocked their head. Looks like Mycroft and his government are up to something. Sounds important. They filed the information away for later use if needed.

“What else does she have?” asked Sherlock, again focusing on Irene. Mycroft pretended to not understand. Sherlock folded the newspaper. “Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn’t be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There’s more.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. They had figured out the same theory with Sherlock. “Something big is coming, isn’t it?” Does it have to do with Bond Air or whatever Mycroft is doing? They did not voice that final thought. It had no factual basis, just intuition. Mycroft was almost always involved in at least five classified operations, so there was no telling what in particular this could be about.

“Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours,” said Mycroft. “From now on you will stay out of this.”

“Oh, will we?” questioned Sherlock, standing and picking up his violin.

“Yes, Sherlock, you will,” said Mycroft. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend.”

“Do give her my love,” said Sherlock as he began playing “God Save the Queen.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes and walked out the door with Sherlock playing louder to ensure he heard it the entire way to the street.

Unfortunately, Mycroft was right. For months, there was no hide or trail of Irene. She didn’t try anything, didn’t demand anything for her information, and didn’t even cause any scandals. Finally, Christmas arrived, and things remained (relatively) peaceful in 221B as they celebrated.

Christmas lights and a tree laden with presents lit up the room, Lestrade stood in the kitchen doorway with a glass of wine, and Mrs. Hudson was grinning and sipping eggnog as Sherlock played “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” (Y/N) lay on the couch with a candy cane, humming along to the music.

Sherlock finished, and Mrs. Hudson clapped. “Lovely! Sherlock, that was lovely! (Y/N), you should play!”

“Maybe a little later, Mrs. Hudson,” said (Y/N).

“Anybody like some tea?” said John as he and his newest girlfriend ((Y/N) couldn’t remember the name) entered the room. He set down the platter of tea and biscuits.

“No, thank you, Sarah,” said Sherlock.

(Y/N) considered. They weren’t certain that was her name. But they were smart enough to not try and get it wrong.

Sure enough, John’s girlfriend’s face fell. John interrupted, trying to keep everything was going worse. “Uh, no, no, no, no, no. He’s not good with names,” said John apologetically.

“No, I can get this,” said Sherlock. “No, Sarah was the doctor, and then there was the one with spots, and then the one with the nose, and then…who was the one after the boring teacher?” (Y/N) shrugged.

“Nobody,” said John’s girlfriend sullenly.

“Jeanette, then!” said Sherlock. “Process of elimination.” He smiled falsely.

John glared at him before guiding Jeanette away before more went wrong. A knock sounded at the door, and Molly walked into 221B.

“Hello, everyone!” said Molly awkwardly. “Sorry, hello. Er, it said on the door to just come up.”

“Oh, everyone’s saying hello to each other. How wonderful,” said Sherlock as everyone began hugging and shaking hands and chit-chatting.

“It’s nice to see you,” said Lestrade, handing Molly a glass of wine.

“Yes, thanks. I wasn’t expecting to see you, either,” said Molly. “I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas.”

“First thing in the morning, me and the wife. We’re back together. It’s all sorted,” said Lestrade.

“No, she’s sleeping with a PE teacher,” said Sherlock.

(Y/N) sighed. Ever since Irene disappeared, he had been testy and acting out by saying his deductions, rude or not, whenever he felt like it. (Y/N) might not have been good at social norms either, but they could tell people were beginning to be annoyed by it.

“Sherlock,” hissed John, putting on a smile when Molly turned to him.

“And John. I hear you’re off to your sister’s, is that right?” she asked conversationally.

“Yeah. First time ever, she’s cleaned up her act. She’s off the booze,” said John.

“Nope,” said Sherlock. (Y/N) nudged him with an unopened candy cane to make a point.

“Shut up, Sherlock.” Luckily, John was used to him.

“I see you’ve got a new boyfriend, Molly,” said Sherlock. “And you’re serious about him.”

“Sorry, what?” said Molly nervously.

“In fact, you’re seeing him this very night and giving him a gift,” said Sherlock.

Yeah, she’s giving you a gift since she has a massive thing for you, thought (Y/N). “Sherlock—”

“Shut up and have a drink, Sherlock,” said Lestrade, trying to push a glass into his hands.

“Oh, come on. Surely you’ve all seen the present at the top of the bag, perfectly wrapped with a bow,” said Sherlock, gesturing to Molly’s bags of gifts. “All the others are slapdash at best. It’s for someone special, then.” He picked up the gift in question. “The shade of red echoes her lipstick either in an unconscious association or in one she’s deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has love on the mind. The fact that she’s serious about him is clear from the fact she’s giving him a gift at all. That would suggest long term hopes, no matter how forlorn, and that she’s seeing him tonight is evident from her makeup and what she’s wearing. Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts—” Sherlock abruptly stopped as he read the tag of the present.

“You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always,” said Molly tearfully.

Sherlock softened. He considered Molly a friend, and although he was very bad at being friends with people, he didn’t want her to cry. Again, he was acting out because he had no news on the Irene case. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he said. He stepped towards her. “Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.” He kissed her softly on the cheek.

A sexual sighed rang out, and everyone unused to it jumped. Molly looked panicked. “No! That wasn’t—I didn’t—!” she cried.

“No, it was me,” said Sherlock casually, picking up his phone.

“My God, really?” exclaimed Lestrade.

“My phone,” corrected Sherlock.

“That’s the fifty-seventh from today,” remarked (Y/N). “What is she saying that you’re not replying to?”

“Excuse me,” said Sherlock, distracted. He walked to the mantelpiece and picked up a red-wrapped gift with a black bow before disappearing into his room. (Y/N) and John exchanged looks. That was odd, even for Sherlock.

(Y/N) followed him to his door and knocked. “Can I come in?” they asked.

“Yes,” said Sherlock.

(Y/N) opened the door and stepped inside. Sherlock was sitting on his bed with the open gift on his lap. Irene’s phone was in his hand. “That’s hers,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly.

Sherlock nodded. “Just told Mycroft that they are gonna find her dead tonight,” he said.

(Y/N) furrowed their brow in surprise and a little regret. Irene had been an intelligent woman, and if Sherlock said she was going to die, then she most likely was. And it was unfortunate.

Sherlock stood. “They’ll take her to Bart’s when they do. I’ll identify the body.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

“No,” said Sherlock.

“No?” asked (Y/N), hurt that they couldn’t go.

“No. Dangerous people are involved. They may be waiting out there. Tonight, stay here with John. I’ll be back quickly,” said Sherlock.

“Oh. Alright,” said (Y/N). “Merry Christmas, Sherlock…”

Sherlock’s eyes softened. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).” With that, he was gone.

(Y/N) followed him with narrowed eyes. “John, get in here!”

John walked in. “What, what is it?”

“Sherlock thinks Irene is dead and is going to the morgue,” said (Y/N), pulling out one of Sherlock’s drawers.

“Shit,” cursed John. “It’s a danger night, isn’t it?”

“He’s been clean pretty much since he took me in,” said (Y/N). They sighed. “But that doesn’t mean he’s perfect. And if it’s not cigarettes, it’ll be something else.”

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything,” said John. “And he’ll be working, too.”

“I know, I just…Sherlock doesn’t have good coping skills. And I know I don’t either.” (Y/N)’s brow creased. “But I don’t want him to get himself hurt.”

John’s gaze softened. They’re trying so hard to protect him, and they’re just a kid.

“I’ll help you look,” said John.

And while the party continued outside and eventually dwindled, (Y/N) and John searched through Sherlock’s room. Finally, the door of 221B opened again. Sherlock had returned.

He walked into his room, sullen. “I hope you two didn’t disrupt my sock index.”

“You know we didn’t,” said (Y/N). “Is…Irene actually dead?”

“Yes,” said Sherlock, voice clipped.

“I’m sorry,” said (Y/N), trying to be comforting.

Sherlock sighed and caved seeing the worry in their face. “(Y/N)…I’m not going to relapse. I won’t scare you like that.”

“You sure?” said (Y/N) quietly. “You respected Irene. And she’s dead. I know you’re hiding that you’re not alright.”

“You’re right,” admitted Sherlock. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to relapse.” I’m not going to put you through that worry and anxiety. Not my kid.

Taglist:

@stilesstilinskiforlife-blog

@im-making-an-effort

@ilse235

@schrodingers-intelligence

#a study of the heart and brain #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #father figure #found family trope #found family #sherlock #sherlock x teen!reader #sherlock x teen reader #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes #x teen reader #x teen!reader

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werewolfsister · 8 months

Text

THE ULTIMATE OCTOBER BUCKET LIST

Just in case you’re looking for something to do this spooky season, look no further! Please submit suggestions and additions if you have them 🎃

SEPTEMBER 1ST

Begin reading A Night in the Lonesome October, by Roger Zelazney

Choose an Inktober Challenge

OCTOBER 1st-31st

Put together a scary playlist, or check out a pre-made one! ( https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKkteYcz3WqtSTWxrid5ioJMJGLZGsZnj&feature=shared )

Go to a haunted house

Have a festive fall drink—pumpkin spice latte, Halloween-inspired cocktail, apple cider?

Watch a scary movie—like Get Out, Psycho, or Hereditary

Watch a Halloween special— like It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!

Go to a Halloween/scary movie trivia night

Order a Halloween or fall themed mystery/subscription box

Bake Halloween cookies

Go on a ghost tour

Attend a dumb dinner

Buy your Halloween décor

Decorate the house

Compete in a costume contest

Buy Halloween candy

Pick your pumpkins

Carve your pumpkins

Burn a campfire

Tell scary stories

Read some scary stories—like H.P. Lovecraft, Steven King, or Anne Rice

Get lost in a corn maze

Visit a graveyard

Go apple picking

Visit a fall festival

Send old-timey Halloween postcards

Go on a hayride

Do a pumpkin-head photoshoot

Visit a Halloween attraction or theme park—like Halloweentown, OR; or Disneyland, CA

Take a walk to crunch fall leaves

Drive through town and play Halloween decoration bingo

Attend Oktoberfest

Listen to a horror podcast— like The Magnus Archives or Sherlock Holmes Radio Mysteries

Watch a spooky play—like the Rocky Horror Picture Show or Little Shop of Horrors

Watch some haunting cartoons—like Spooky Month or Villainous (Villanos)

Giant pumpkin regatta/race

Go to some Museum/Zoo Halloween events

Stay overnight in a haunted hotel—like the Skirvin Hotel, OK; or the Overlook Hotel, OR

Get the latest Pokemon Trick or Trade Halloween card packs

Visit a Hot Topic or other ghoulish store

Go ghost hunting

Vote in Katmai National Park’s Fat Bear Week! ( https://explore.org/fat-bear-week )

Go on a costumed bar crawl

Play a scary videogame—like Cry of Fear or Resident Evil

Play a scary boardgame—like the JAWS boardgame, Shaky Manor, or Betrayal at House on the Hill

Take a (respectful!) tombstone rubbing

Draw for Inktober

Do an old-timey lover’s Halloween premonition

Visit a creepy museum exhibit—like the Museum of Death, CA; or the Jack the Ripper Museum, London

Get a tarot reading or some palmistry

Attend a séance

Try out a Zombie Run or Zombies vs Humans

Enjoy Samhain traditions

Visit a spooky person’s grave—like Lovecraft’s in Providence, RI; or the Paris Catacombs, Paris

Go on a nighttime nature walk and spot some creepy critters—maybe an owl!

Do some history of Halloween research

Make fall themed crafts

Go on a labyrinth walk

Dress up your pets for a photoshoot or a pet parade

Play a trick on someone

Trick or treat!

Hand out candy!

NOVEMBER 1ST- 3RD

Halloween decorations clean up!

Eat your candy!

Celebrate Dias de los Muertos

Do some calavera painting

Put up an Ofrenda/altar

Enjoy a little ancestor remembrance

Walk in a Dias de los Muertos parade

Put up marigolds and other décor

Go to a church service

If you’re crazy, start putting up the Christmas decorations <.< (we all know you gotta wait until at least Thanksgiving!!!)

#Halloween #Halloween bucket list #October #October bucket list #October activities #Halloween activities #this isn’t what I usually post #but I hope it helps someone have the SPOOKIEST HALLOWEEN EVER!

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loudblonde · 1 year

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"Oh to have access to MI6... wait what" John Price/Male!Holmes!Reader

Summary: John Price and (Y/N) Holmes need help with a case, they meant to ask Sherlock but he is working on a case and unable to help, so instead Price and (Y/N) head to MI6 where they meet up with Agent Blanc.

warninga: none, this is mostly feel good and fluff

word count: 1555

(Y/N) was sitting quietly in his brother's apartment, waiting for his idiotic older brother to return home. Price, the much older man, sitting next to him. (Y/N) had instructed him not to touch anything as it would be quite uncomfortable for Sherlock once he came back from whatever high he was chasing. (Y/N) could only hope this high wasn’t a physical one. “Do you recognise that your brother knows?” Price asks.

“Hm?” (Y/N) was pulled from his thoughts and looked to Price. “Know what?”

“Well, about us, you aren’t out to your family as you said.” Price said, which made (Y/N) chuckle.

“My darling, my brother clocked the fact I loved you the moment he saw me smile as you texted me that fateful Christmas morning.” He leaned over and kissed Price on the cheek. “Besides, no one of the brothers is straight.” (Y/N) said with a smirk as he leaned back.

“I’m sorry what?” Price asked. “I get Sherlock but Mycroft?” He asked.

(Y/N) chuckled again and nodded. “He is actually the only one out. I still remember the day, it was the year I turned 16, Mycroft came home one day and swore off love or anything else involving the sexual nature of adult entertainment. He said he did not care, he had tried and it wasn’t for him. Mother congratulated him and then turned to me and said I was going to be the one with the grandchildren, to which she later on my 19th birthday said that she would just be happy if I came home with someone who wasn’t a bad guy.” He said, sounding amused the entire time.

“… So, would she approve of me?” Price asked.

(Y/N) nodded. “Yes, you aren’t a man who could be known as a cartoon supervillain, so yes.”

“I feel like there is a story behind that.” Price said, chuckling a bit.

“There most definitely is- Sherlock!” (Y/N) explained as he stood up, walking over to the now open door where John Watson was holding up a duped-up Sherlock.

“I will take him to the shower, he reeks, John can you grab some of his clothes?” (Y/N) asked as he lifted his brother up and easily carried him towards the showers.

“Don’t think I have much of a choice,” Watson said under his breath as he moved towards Sherlock's bedroom.

Price didn’t move, still not used to the chaos that was his boyfriend's life. Watson came out and sat beside him a few moments later. “Sometimes I question how I signed up for this,” Watson said. “But then I remembered no matter what your life was like beforehand, if a Holmes decides you are their person, you are just their person.”

“They are like feral cats.” Price said, nodding a bit.

Both men shared a look and chuckled. “Still working or are you on leave right now?” Watson asked.

“Here for a work thing, unfortunately, I would love to be on leave.” Price rubbed his neck. “But work never stops, (Y/N) needed Sherlock’s help with some part of the case… How is he doing?” Price asked as (Y/N) walked out.

“Well, he got very cold, then called me out for smelling like you, said something along the lines of ‘another falls for a John, god dammit, these damn Johns are too good’ before I made him promise me to take a shower.” (Y/N) said.

“Another falls for a John?” Both Price and Watson said at the same time.

“Yeah… Anyway, he did help me by not helping me, we are going to visit my uncle, he is in town right now.” He said.

“Didn’t Blanc go to Paris?” Price asked, confused.

“I have more than one Uncle, imagine James Bond.” He said and pulled Price up before heading out. Bidding Watson goodbye and saying they left some food in the fridge for him.

(Y/N) take Price halfway across London to the southwest part of London, he fished out a visitor card and gave it to Price before taking a badge that didn’t have any information on it and clipping it onto his shirt.

“(Y/N), I love you and trust you, but what are we doing in front of MI6?” He asked.

(Y/N) hummed a bit and looked in the visor mirror. “My love, keep an open mind and stay close.” He said before getting out. He dragged Price through security, making sure they didn’t get scanned in the body scanners. Price was baffled but didn’t say anything. He was far too used to the Holmes bullshit by now. Well, as used to it as someone could get.

They entered an elevator that hadn’t been there a moment before, it held no buttons and simply just went down.

“You've been here a lot?” Price asks. “They seemed familiar with you.”

“I freelance, so yeah, sometimes I help my married uncle and other times I help my uncle who works here. I think I am one of few children who has ever been given an access card here.” (Y/N) said.

“Right, early graduate and early work. Did your parents know about this?” Price asked before the elevator opened into an office with a man who looked exactly like Benoit Blanc.

“Hey Uncle, do you have a moment?” (Y/N) asked.

“For you, (nickname), always…” His not actual uncle looked up. “Captain Price.” Jacques Blanc said.

“Agent Blanc.” Price said, straightening his back. They were about the same age with about the same amount of experience in the field.

“How can I help you two?” He asked as he leaned back.

(Y/N) smiled and walked over, handing him a flash drive. “Well, we need to find someone who has gone missing and word has it, you are familiar with the people who have taken our target.”

“Alright, I can do that, why don’t you go ahead and find a room for us to stay in while I catch up with Price?” Jacques asked.

“If you give him the shovel talk I will write your number on a bathroom stall~” (Y/N) said in a sing-song voice as he left.

“Well, I think the cat's out the bag, with me knowing but what the hell Price?! He is my nephew! Well as good as, we are both men of a significant age, what are you doing with a man in his 20s?” Jacques asked.

“It just happened and I am along for the ride, (Y/N) is an adult and hyper independent, he barely even checks in before he is off on another case.” He said and sat down. “He can talk and talk for hours on subjects I work with and still talk in circles with me. Jacques, I never thought it possible but, I love him, genuinely so. He came into my life and turned it upside down.”

Jacques sighed. “I have seen that look on your face on every single person that (Y/N) have dated, that wonder and amazement… just be careful, both of you. (Y/N) runs faster and burns out quicker than his brothers. I blame that rich snob school he went to.”

“That school of kings right? Top one percenters. How does he even afford that?” Price asked. “Well, rather his parents.”

“They are richer than they look, his mother’s brother is new money rich, sent him away to the school so he could be challenged, turns out he didn’t get challenged for long but still… it's why my brother and I were entrusted with keeping his mind sharp as Sherlock was too busy chasing mysteries, Mycroft was not emotionally available so obviously, you dump the child on a man who is not fully married to solving mysteries and a man whose job only truly ends when he dies.”

“Are you even related to the Holmes?” He asked.

Jacques shook his head. “No, it’s merely another case of someone getting picked up and forcefully befriended by a Holmes.” Both men shared a small chuckle. “Don’t hurt him or the entire Holmes Family will bury you alive.”

“I am starting to get that impression.” Price said before checking his phone as it vibrated. “Eh, B15?” He said.

“Right this way.”

The mission went smoothly, and the target was retrieved without any hitch. Price was more than happy that (Y/N) didn’t go with them even if all went smoothly. What it did mean was that as soon as all paperwork was filed, Price could return home to where (Y/N) was waiting, alongside his whole family.

Price walked in, not aware of the family gathering, dropping his bag on the floor and taking off his boots, completely unaware of the mountain of shoes gathered by the front door. How he missed it, no one knows but Price would blame it on the fact he hadn’t slept in 3 days and how he managed to walk past the entire family who was chatting and up the stairs was a mystery to everyone but still, a story talked about at family gatherings for years to come. (Y/N) always grinning with a blush on his face and Price usually always blushing but laughing along, sharing the story of others to draw the attention from himself again.

#cod x male reader #male reader #cod men x male reader #captain john price x male reader #john price x male reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price

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shakespearefreak · 5 months

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An American Girl Christmas 2023

(Finally getting around to posting my photos from Christmas, only a few days late!)

The first Christmas surprise, at least for Makena and Evette, came before opening a single gift. As everyone filed into the main room, Jip took off ahead, barking excitedly. When they followed, the girls saw why. Maritza was kneeling by Jip, patting him. “MARITZA!” they cried in unison. She leapt to her feet with a grin. “KAY! EVIE! Hi!!”

The reunited friends piled into one big group hug while Jip jumped all over them, wagging his stubby tail furiously.

Once the girls had calmed down, it was time to look inside everyone’s stockings! (Evette, who celebrates Yule and thus doesn’t have a stocking,* sat down to catch up with Maritza, who of course doesn’t have a stocking yet.)

*Evie knows that, like most Christmas traditions, hanging stockings has pagan roots, but she also feels that nowadays it’s mostly associated with Christmas.

(A better look at what everyone found in their stockings)

Time for presents! Just look at all those pretty packages!

Samantha went first. She found a lovely winter hat with a silver bow and a card tucked into the band. “To: Samantha, From: St. Nicholas,” it read.

Inside, she found a gorgeous winter coat of a deep blue velveteen that matched the hat band, trimmed with white fur, as well as a pair of black mittens. She put everything on to model it. “Oh! It’s beautiful!” she gasped. “And it will be just perfect for playing in the snow… these mittens will be much better for making snowballs than my fur muff!”

Next it was Nellie’s turn. “Ooh, I got a big one too!” she cried in surprise, sitting down to open it. (She tried to open the wrapping paper carefully so she could save it — no matter how financially stable she was now, part of her would always remember growing up poor — but Marley convinced her that wasn’t necessary. She felt rather guilty ripping the pretty paper, but she had to admit it was kind of fun.)

“Look, Sam! I got a hat, too!” Nellie looked through the rest of the box’s contents. “And mittens, and a coat, and a little cape! Oh, wow!”

Nellie put on her own new coat set, and the two girls grinned at each other. “Now all we need is snow!”

“That might take a while,” Marley cautioned (it was an unseasonably warm and rainy Christmas Day, with temperatures in the 50s).*

*I spoke too soon, though! It snowed here yesterday… unfortunately, it was a mixture of snow and rain, definitely not good for doll photos.

Virginia was next. She found a smallish, gold-wrapped package addressed to her. “I think it’s a book!” she said, feeling its weight through the foil.

She was right! “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle,” she read the ornate gilt lettering on the leather-bound cover, then paged through the inside. “Oh! This is the Holmes Christmas story! I can’t wait to read it!” (She also promised Samantha, who is another big Sherlock Holmes fan, that she could borrow it once she was finished.)

Josefina had a small box wrapped in red and gold paper. The wrapping bulged awkwardly in places, as if the object within were irregularly shaped, and when she picked it up, it rattled like there were a number of smaller objects inside. The rattle and the heft of the box felt somehow familiar…

Josefina gave a low gasp as she removed the paper to reveal her beloved memory box, filled with mementos: her late mother’s silver thimble, a square of the lavender-scented soap she’d always used, and a swallow feather and turquoise nugget that reminded Josefina of her; a rattlesnake rattle from her father’s childhood; and the heart-shaped milagro Tía Magdalena had given her during a trying time, to remind her not to lose hope in her heart’s desire. She held the box wordlessly with shining eyes, afraid if she were to try and speak she’d simply dissolve into happy tears.

Makena’s present was simply but prettily packaged in a small pink gift bag. “Ooh, I wonder what this is?”

It ended up being a long golden necklace. Delicate butterflies dangled from the chain on slender strands of gold, seeming to flutter and dance with every little movement. “Oh! I know exactly what outfit to pair this with!”

Finally, it was Evette’s turn. Hers was a lumpy package wrapped in paper as green as her dress, with a design of fir branches and snowy pinecones, topped with a silver bow.

She unwrapped it to reveal a white lacy shirt. “Oh, it’s so pretty!” she said, holding it up to show everyone. “I can’t wait to try it on!”*

*She did, in fact, try it on before changing for Kwanzaa, and it looked amazing on her, but I didn’t get a picture. 😕

The girls returned to the main room, chattering and showing each other their new gifts… just in time to save their Christmas Dinner from a certain curious dog! “Jip, NO!” several girls cried in unison while Sam dragged him away by his collar, his wet nose sniffing furiously at the scent of roasted turkey.

✨🎄 Happy Dollidays! 🎄✨

#christmas #cw: christmas #american girl #american girl dolls #makena williams #evette peeters #maritza ochoa #samantha parkington #nellie o'malley #josefina montoya #virginia wilde #truly me 115 #doll oc #jip the dog #yule #dollblr #doll photography

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fuckyeahfightlock · 1 year

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Advent Ficlets 2022, Day 9

Making a List

They’d finished their dinner of takeaway pizza, a salad John had built from remnant eat-it-or-it’ll-spoil bits and pieces of veg he scavenged from the fridge and a basket on the worktop, and fizzy water with lime (they did not want to look bloated in wedding photos and had agreed to curb their alcohol intake in the interim weeks), and settled into their armchairs--Sherlock in his cashmere dressing gown over shirtsleeves, with feet bare, and John with a luxurious throw blanket over his lap. It was silk-soft, purposely bought to match Sherlock’s holiday colour scheme (John wondered if they would get to keep it after Christmas), and so lovely and cozy John didn’t even mind that he probably looked like a granddad at the old folks’ home sitting with a blanket over his legs.

“Do you think we should invite anyone else?”

Sherlock looked questioning. “Like who?”

“Your brother, for one.”

Sherlock snorted and tossed his head a bit. “Absolutely not.”

“Your parents?”

“Absolutely not, to the fifth power,” Sherlock half-groaned. “Can you imagine my mother? They’ll receive an announcement--I ordered them this morning, did I tell you? The stationer insisted on an expediting fee; he’ll never sell me a fountain pen again, you can be sure--and then I’m sure they’ll send us a soup tureen or some bath towels.”

“Just wanted to be sure we’re not missing anyone we’ll be sorry not to have invited,” John said with a shrug.

“Your sister?”

“Mm,” was all John managed, twisting his mouth into a frown.

“We’re hardly drowning in friends and relations, John. If we only want to fill the place up with spectators, I suppose we could invite my homeless network.”

“Not necessary,” John smirked. “An intimate thing suits us just fine.”

Sherlock nodded crisply and reached for a weighty, monogrammed pen and his small, leatherbound notebook--normally carried in the inner pocket of his suit jacket--sat on the octagonal cabinet beside his chair. He began to write.

“Thinking about a case?” John asked, tipping his chin toward Sherlock’s book.

“Note to self about a guest book.”

“For three people to sign?”

“Guest. . .page? Parchment?”

“Index card, maybe,” John grinned.

“Perhaps we’ll forgo that tradition,” Sherlock allowed. “Perhaps a length of ribbon. Or a bookmark. I’ll think a bit.”

John shook his head lightly. “You are a remarkable puzzle, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Keep you guessing,” Sherlock joked, his own small smile fighting its way to the surface of his lips. “Gives me the upper hand.”

“It’s not a competition,” John said. “Or a fistfight. Neither of us wins.”

Sherlock hummed doubtfully, still struggling against his smile. “Not sure about that.”

“Nobody wins a relationship,” John insisted.

“We’ll see,” Sherlock said just beneath his usual tone, and went back to writing in his notebook.

#everytime I write the word leatherbound #(more often than you might think)#I hear Bernard Black in my head saying #Are they leatherbound pounds?#EVERY TIME #Bernard Black is Sherlock's cousin pass it on #anyway #writing #fic #Advent ficlets 2022 #christmas fic

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writing-rat · 5 months

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Danny's School Days

Pairings: Ellie and Danny, Bridget and Danny

Content: Transphobia, Use of the word tranny, non-graphic violence

Summary: Danny gets bullied at school for being transgender. He keeps it hidden until Bridget finds out and tells their mom, knowing that Danny won't.

WC: 1834

Inspired by: @redhaireddeadite My Name's Danny

“Danny,” the teacher called out during registration.

“More like tranny,” a student sneered out. As much as Danny tried to take it in stride and act like he wasn’t bothered, he couldn’t stop the tensing of his shoulders and how he hunched over slightly, showing his weakness to his bullies. He was only glad Bridget wasn’t in his classes as he managed to always hide out at lunches and breaks, mostly in the disabled classrooms on the 3rd floor that no one would use for a bathroom usually.

The teacher didn’t even do anything, as usual. It was his English class after all and he was transphobic himself. The only teacher who punished the bullies (if they were in his class or he heard it in the hallway) would be his music teacher. His favourite teacher. In fact he even gave him a birthday and Christmas gift. For one of his birthdays, he got a Metallica vinyl for the album ‘Metallica’. For one Christmas, he got a Domino's gift card for him and his whole family. He understood Danny, and he accepted him. Hell, he let him stay in his room now and then for lunch. They talked about anything and everything. Family, music, games, food and even movies.

He wasn’t in the music class however and he was sad about that. The teacher even smirked at the joke. As the class proceeded, a paper ball was thrown at him. He was scared to open it but he did so anyway. ‘Tranny Danny crying in the female bathrooms because she’s just an attention whore’ he read. He was just glad his deadname wasn’t out to everyone. “Danny! No passing notes out,” the teacher scolded. “Detention tomorrow after school,” he informed, glaring at him. Danny just glared back. He bit his tongue as he hurriedly packed his bag and rushed out of the class, tears brimming his eyes. He was making his way to his music class to try and take a break. His teacher gave him his schedule after all and he knew he was free.

That was at least until he bumped into Bridget, who had just exited the bathroom. “Shit Danny! What are you doing out of the class? Aren’t you golden boy?” she teased, not realising the tears yet… not at least until she looked closer. “Are you ok? Is your binder hurting you? Or is it bullies?” she added, concerned and rubbing his shoulder.

“Just… the binder. Yep,” he mumbled, but he knew that Bridget could read him like a book.

“Yeah right! It’s some bullies, isn’t it? Who are they?” she practically growled.

“No one. Look, I can handle it, ok? I just… need a break,” he responded then quickly left. Bridget just watched him and thought. She would keep an eye on him now, and find out who. She debated telling their mom but decided not to immediately. She wanted to find out who first so their mom could tell them off. That would work.

It had been a few days since that incident, and Bridget was noting everywhere where her brother went and even looked at his schedule, seeing who was in his classes and all that. She felt like Sherlock Holmes! That day, however, she was walking with Danny to his locker, chatting about the most recent movies he might like. She had saved up pocket money so the whole family could watch a movie, even their little sister who was 7 years old. “Yeah, we can watch that,” he commented, his voice cracking. He had just started testosterone at age 17, and he felt more comfortable in his own skin. Hell, he was on the waiting list for top surgery. They made sure he would be over 18 when it was scheduled for.

As he opened his locker, embarrassed by his voice crack, a note slipped out and Bridget quickly grabbed it and read it. ‘Watch your back’ it read. She immediately felt protective and handed it to Danny. “If anyone hurts you, call me or message me,” she spoke adamantly. Danny widened his eyes and then nodded to agree. Bridget knew now to follow him whenever she could and see who was watching him with a potential threat. That started from now.

Classes were over and it was now lunch. Due to Bridget watching Danny, she knew where he was. He would be on the third floor in the disabled bathroom. Eventually, she reached the third floor after multiple sets of stairs due to being on the ground floor and she was tired. That didn’t last for long before she heard a fight on the third floor. Every teacher was in their lunch break in multiple places so no one could hear it except her. She immediately ran over and saw 3 people. She took a quick photo, hoping it was good and was starting to fight them too. “Leave him alone!” she even yelled and pushed them off before punching. Now she was the target but once they heard more footsteps coming, and lanyards, they quickly ran off.

Danny meanwhile was laid down, a cut lip, his arms bruised as well as his ribs and a bleeding nose with a potential black eye. The teachers quickly helped, Bridget explaining the situation as well as the note. At least they were taking it seriously. They however wouldn’t tell his mom, and Bridget knew for sure that Danny wouldn’t, even after this. She would do it tonight though…

Dinnertime came and went, and Bridget still hadn’t told. Their mom hadn’t seen the extent of his injuries, just his black eye which he was thankful for. He said he got it in PE which Ellie understood and told him to be careful. Currently, Danny was in his bedroom, playing his vinyl and reading a few comic books. Kassie meanwhile was in her room playing with her toys. “Mom?” Bridget called out, knocking on their mom's bedroom door. She knew that she was just reading after all. “Come in dear,” she responded, sitting up and putting her bookmark in her book as she put it down, her reading glasses on top.

“I’m concerned about Danny,” she explained, sitting down. “He’s being bullied. I bumped into him a few days ago and he was crying. I could tell it was bullying. He also got a note in his locker today to watch his back and then at lunch I saw him being hurt, I got a photo of the boys,” she added when she saw Ellie’s intrigue then handed the phone over to show the photo. Her eyes practically went red. “Thank you for saying and showing, baby. Can you send it to me please?” she asked. Bridget nodded, knowing Ellie would intervene finally.

It was only a matter of time.

It was their first-period class when the speaker was used. “Danny and Bridget Bixler. Please come to the principal’s class,” it spoke. Danny was confused as he packed up his stuff, trying to ignore all the eyes on him that were already judging his injuries. He slid his bag on before he wandered over to the office, seeing Bridget had arrived already. “What’s up sir?” he asked the principal, scrunching his nose in confusion.

“We have been told that you have been bullied and fought. Is it true?” he asked as Danny sat down after hugging his mom.

“No,” he lied.

“Well… the proof speaks differently. So please explain, what is going on?” he asked.

“What proof?” Danny asked, seeing if he could justify it.

“The notes and the picture that Bridget has of the fight,” the principal explained. Danny tensed.

“Oh… just, a few bullies. Transphobes, all that business,” he spoke, looking away from everyone and everything, just gazing at a wall at this point.

“And who are they?” the principal pressed.

“Please Danny,” Ellie spoke quietly. “Please say. No one hurts my son after all,” she added, going next to him and rubbing his back. He closed his eyes. “Their names are Joseph Horton, Chester Yates and Zak Stokes,” Danny finally admitted, his mom's pleas working.

“Thank you. Now, you both can have the rest of the day off. We will deal with this,” the principal spoke. Ellie was annoyed they didn’t say what they’d do. “Do what?” Ellie asked, demanding an answer.

“Well…” the principal spoke, his mouth opening and closing just like a fish. Danny looked at the 2 of them as well as Bridget. “If it was me I would expel them!” Ellie added.

“We will talk to them first and suspend them depending on what they’ve done. If there are more instances then we will expel,” the principal spoke. “That’s all?” Ellie asked before Danny intervened. “Mom. It’s ok. I bet they’ll learn their lesson. Please… calm down,” he spoke gently. Ellie calmed down at that, closing her eyes and counting to 10. “Ok. Let’s go. We can do whatever you want kids,” she spoke. Bridget smiled. “I’m happy to just stay home,” Bridget shrugged out and went to the door. “Let you 2 hang out,” she added then left as Ellie was about to rope her into an activity. Danny just smiled, happy to be with his mom.

That day they had decided to go to the local fair and then go to the shops and have a look around. Hell, they even got stuff for Danny’s favourite meal. It was around 10 pm now, and Danny was tired, but he was wanting to speak to his mom. “Mom?” he knocked on the door.

“Come in baby,” Ellie spoke. Danny opened the door, seeing his mom in bed, book and glasses on the side.

“I want to thank you for today. For… standing up for me, not being mad about how I lied about bullying and also having a day with me,” he spoke, smiling. “Oh, it’s no problem, sweetheart. And I can’t ever be mad at you, even with all the loud music you play,” she joked. Danny couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. “How’s the testosterone working?” she asked. “Good so far,” he spoke, rocking on his feet at her door. “You can come in you know. And no side effects?” she asked. Danny went and laid down next to her.

“No. None at all except the embarrassing voice cracks,” he spoke. As if on cue, he had a voice crack while talking about them. Ellie laughed. “That’s good then,” she finally spoke.

“Hey mom… can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked shyly. Ellie just nodded. “Thank you,” he spoke, getting under the covers as he was in his sleepwear already.

“It’s no problem,” she spoke, holding him safely as she saw how he had lifted his arms a bit then stopped and hugged himself. Danny smiled, tears in his eyes. “Just promise to tell me if something is wrong, ok? I want you happy,” Ellie stated. Danny nodded. “I promise,” he spoke, cuddling her back.

#evil dead rise #evil dead rise danny #ratboy writing #ratboy writes

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holmesoldfellow · 6 months

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Sherlock Holmes Christmas card by Bryan Talbot (2013)

#sherlock holmes #illustration #christmas card #sherlock holmes christmas card #sherlock holmes illustration #john watson #dr john watson #doctor john watson #bryan talbot

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therevengeoffrankenstein · 2 years

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@madphantom

horror recs aaww yeahhh. mostly a peter cushing, christopher lee, and vincent price show bc i tend to fixate on them and their films a lot.

note: it kinda goes without saying that some of these have problematic elements and themes. i consume media critically, which should also kinda go without saying!!

feel free to hmu me for trigger warnings, but i can't guarantee i'll remember everything in the films.

HAMMER HORROR RECS

+ 'the curse of frankenstein' (1957) and just. the whole hammer frankenstein series, especially 'the revenge of frankenstein' and 'frankenstein created woman.' ('created woman' leans more heavily into the sci-fi aspects, but is more of a revenge slasher at heart.)

you can skip 'evil' and 'horror' (unless you're a completionist) bc they are the worst and aren't super important continuity wise ('horror' is totally outside of the main continuity bc it's a reboot!!)

+ 'horror of dracula' (1958) and 'the brides of dracula' (1960) are two of my fave films ever. they perfectly encapsulate that distinctly hammer-y gothic horror atmosphere, and are full of frills (pretty women) and thrills (scared silly men.)

most of the sequels are kinda meh BUT

'dracula ad 1972' (1972) is somewhat of a cult classic. it asks the vitally important questions 'what if dracula was fucking around in modern (aka 1972) london? and what if the writers absolutely detested hippies?' johnny alucard is a #bisexualking.

'satanic rites of dracula' (1973) isn't very good, but it is funny, and a somewhat direct sequel to 'ad 1972' so it's worth it imo.

and i wouldn't recommend any of the other sequels unless you're a completionist (like me,) but 'taste the blood of dracula' is pretty good.

+ 'the mummy' (1959) more gorgeous hammer decadence set and costume wise. christopher lee is insanely good in this, acting totally through his eyes and body language (which he also does a lot in some of the weaker dracula sequels when he refused to say lines he hated in the scripts lmao.)

+ 'the hound of the baskervilles' (1959) is a thriller take on a classic sherlock holmes story. not totally book accurate (hammer usually doesn't do super accurate adaptations,) but peter cushing is absolute fire as holmes. it's one of his career-best performances imo.

+ cash on demand (1961) is a christmas movie/pseudo-scrooge tale about a bank heist. it's more of a claustrophobic psychological thriller than a horror movie, but it has a bunch of strong performances and it really makes the most of itself. one of my personal top ten movies ever.

+ captain clegg (1962) is more of a swashbuckler/mystery than a horror film, but it's so much fun and a big 'comfort' movie of mine. i love pirates and parsons and smugglers ❤

+ 'the vampire lovers' (1970) evil canon lesbian/bi vampire ladies and pretty period fashion. it's part of the karnstein trilogy, and is probably the most accurate to the source material, 'carmilla.’

i do not recommend ‘lust for a vampire’ unless you are a completionist. it doesn’t even have peter cushing in it.

'twins of evil' (1971) is the final karnstein film and is a prequel. it might be the horniest and most gruesome tbh? but it's pretty good 👍

+ 'fear in the night' (1972) is a sneaky favorite of mine. psychological thriller that handles the topic of mental illness and its mentally ill characters pretty well, imo.

+ 'captain kronos - vampire hunter' (1974) do you like swashbuckling vampire hunters and fabulous twin nobles? then you'll like this one. 'kickass' and 'badass' are the main adjectives i'd use to describe it.

AMICUS RECS

(NOTE: amicus borrowed a lot of actors from hammer, so they are kinda similar vibe-wise on occasion.)

+ 'dr. terror's house of horrors' (1965) horror anthology with tarot card readings as its framing device, which is such a whipass concept.

+ 'the house that dripped blood' (1971) horror anthology about a cursed house or smth :) and while it is pretty good over all, i'm recommending this one mainly bc the 'waxworks' segment is one of the finest pieces of cinema i've ever seen.

+ 'tales from the crypt' (1972) horror anthology based on 'tales from the crypt' comics, and it has a couple of really good ones. great primer for getting into their anthologies.

+ 'madhouse' (1974) one of my lowkey favorite movies bc i love gay old horror actors hamming it up and having fun and making fun of themselves. and i love projecting onto herbert flay and paul toombes so much <333 #lovewins

OTHER RECS

+ 'frankenstein' (1931) and 'bride of frankenstein' (1935) if u haven't seen these two you have got to fr fr. 'bride' is a perfect score in my book and just. holy fuck. one of the most insane, profound, beautiful movies ever. stg. dr pretorius is everything 2 me <33 i ❤ heart gay old men.

+ the invisible man (1933) i get the feeling you've seen this one? but it's lots of fun :) claude rains is amazing as the titular invisible man. honestly i kinda prefer this movie to the book.

+ 'psycho' (1960) a classic, one of the og slashers. i'm assuming you're seen this one just bc it's so popular? but it really is That Good.

also 'psycho ii' is fucking amazing. i haven't seen any of the other sequels yet, but 'ii' is just. so so heartbreaking. a near perfect sequel that really dives into the aftermath of the events of the first film.

+ 'corruption' (1968) absolutely not the best but it starts strong and is just damn fascinating. about a dysfunctional couple tearing each other to shreds at its core.

+ 'the abominable dr. phibes' (1971) a revenge slasher kinda considered to be a precursor to 'saw?' idk lol. but it has some fucking epic kills. vincent price really delivers here emotionally as the title character and it drives me up the wall.

'dr. phibes rises again' (1972) is also pretty good. weaker kills imo but a stronger protagonist.

also while i don't think you Have To watch 'dr. phibes' first (i didn't,) 'madhouse' is kind of an homage to it.

+ 'the wicker man' (1973) folk horror/musical masterpiece about a devoutly religious cop investigating the disappearance of a young girl on an island inhabited by pagans. if you haven't seen this just know that it is a 10/10 must watch.

+ 'house of the long shadows' (1983) about an author who's dared to spend the night in a creepy house that was once owned by a super fucked up family. doesn't really kick into gear until all the old people start showing up, but it's fun.

+ fright night (1985) epic vampire movie pastiche B) peter vincent means the world to me fr. it makes me cry sometimes. the sequel is pretty good too!! but i wouldn't really recommend the 2011 remake.

#these are just some of my faves/ones i've fixated on/talk a lot about or i just think they're good primers for getting #into this kind of stuff B)#autism won today :D yippee!! i love not shutting up!!!#myevilposts #hammer #long post

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