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sfrecipes · 2 years

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Ice Cream Sundae Board

Serves 4 to 6

Start with:

Ice cream

Sprinkles

Candy toppings (M&M’s, gummy bears, mini chocolate chips, mini marshmallows, mini peanut butter cups)

Maraschino cherries

Classic Hot Fudge Sauce (store bought or recipe below)

Whipped Cream (recipes below)

If you want, add:

Salted Butterscotch Sauce (recipe below)

Mixed Berry Coulis (recipe below)

More toppings (crushed up chocolate and/or plain ice cream cones, crumbled Oreos)

Waffles (store-bought)

Bananas

Ice Cream Sundaes

The headnote says, “Ice cream is a food stylist’s worst nightmare: It melts at lightning speed on set, so you’ve only got a tiny window of time to get that perfect shot. But that doesn’t stop me from flexing my sundae skills at home. For flavors, make sure you’ve got the classics (chocolate and vanilla never fail) but I like to mix in some funky flavors, too, like this beet-chocolate masterpiece from my friend and colleague Jackie Gochenouer’s ice cream business. And who could say no to a waffle sundae like they do at Disney?

Elle’s Strategy:

Set up shop. Put your toppings in small bowls and each sauce in something that’s easy to pour from. Corral everything on a tray, but don’t worry about where the ice cream will go—keeping it separate makes things easier. Set out scoops (owning at least two lets you scoop and fill bowls twice as fast), bowls, and spoons. Save the ice cream for last, and just do a few pints. When they start to get soupy, switch them out for backups from the freezer.

Get a head start. Clear out your freezer to make room for all that ice cream (plan on about 1/2 pint per person, or more if you want more selection). Make your sauces ahead of time; the hot fudge sauce is good for a month! You can even prep your toppings—just cover the dishes in plastic wrap.

Think outside the box. Don’t be afraid to lean into non-sweet toppings. Try cereals, crumbled potato chips, balsamic reduction (see page 148 in book), candied bacon (see page 72 in book), or even flake sea salt (so good with pecan ice cream).

The perfect scoop. Put your scoops in mugs of water. This makes it easier to scoop but also keeps you from double dipping and mixing up the ice cream flavors.

Pints aplenty. If I buy bigger containers of ice cream, I like to repack it into smaller containers to help keep things as cold as possible. You can find empty pints online, but Tupperware works just fine.

Classic Hot Fudge Sauce

Makes about 2 cups

Nothing on earth is better than rich, chocolaty hot fudge sauce, and this recipe is the chocolatiest thanks to the cocoa powder–unsweetened chocolate combo. Using milk, rather than cream, helps preserve that intense chocolate flavor, and incorporating cold butter creates a thick consistency and makes the sauce nice and glossy.

1 ¼ cups (8 ¾ ounces) sugar

2/3 cup whole milk

¼ teaspoon table salt

1/3 cup (1 ounce) unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted

3 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped fine

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces and chilled

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Heat sugar, milk, and salt in medium saucepan over medium-low heat, whisking gently, until sugar has dissolved, and liquid starts to bubble around edges of saucepan, about 6 minutes. Reduce heat to low, add cocoa, and whisk until smooth.

2. Off heat, stir in chocolate and let sit for 3 minutes. Whisk sauce until smooth and chocolate is fully melted. Whisk in butter and vanilla until fully incorporated and sauce thickens slightly. (Sauce can be refrigerated for up to 1 month; gently warm in microwave before using, stirring every 10 seconds, until pourable.)

Variation

Chocolate-Tahini Sauce

Add 1/3 cup tahini with the butter and vanilla.

Whipped Cream

Makes about 2 cups

A dollop of whipped cream is always the right sundae move. Where else would that cherry perch? This recipe is so much better than the canned stuff, and the flavor variations add a unique twist your guests won’t see coming (hello, brown sugar and bourbon).

1 cup heavy cream, chilled

1 tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Pinch table salt

Using stand mixer fitted with whisk attachment, whip cream, sugar, vanilla, and salt on medium-low speed until foamy, about 1 minute. Increase speed to high and whip until soft peaks form, 1 to 3 minutes. (Whipped cream can be refrigerated in fine-mesh strainer set over small bowl and covered with plastic wrap for up to 8 hours.)

Variations

Maple Whipped Cream

Substitute 2 tablespoons maple syrup for sugar. Reduce vanilla to 1/2 teaspoon.

Brown Sugar and Bourbon Whipped Cream

Omit vanilla. Substitute 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar for granulated sugar. Increase salt to 1/8 teaspoon. Add 1/2 cup sour cream and 2 teaspoons bourbon. Before whipping, whisk all ingredients together in bowl of stand mixer, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or up to 24 hours. Whisk again to combine before whipping.

Orange Whipped Cream

Substitute 2 tablespoons orange juice for vanilla. Add 1 teaspoon grated orange zest to stand mixer with cream before whipping.

Peanut Butter Whipped Cream

Add 1/4 cup creamy peanut butter to stand mixer with cream before whipping. Once mixture is foamy, continue to whip on medium-low speed until soft peaks form, 1 to 3 minutes.

Level Up Your Board

Salted Butterscotch Sauce

Makes about 1 ½ cups

This is so much easier than making a caramel sauce, and it’s just as delicious—if not more so; the salty-sweet combo is killer. Do yourself a favor and make a little extra to drizzle over pie, bread pudding, or cake.

1 cup packed (7 ounces) light brown sugar

1/2 cup heavy cream

8 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces and chilled, divided

½ teaspoon table salt

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Combine sugar, cream, 4 tablespoons butter, and salt in medium saucepan. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring often with rubber spatula, until large bubbles burst on surface of sauce, about 4 minutes. Remove from heat.

2. Carefully stir in vanilla and remaining 4 tablespoons butter until fully combined, about 1 minute. Carefully transfer sauce to bowl and let cool for 30 minutes (sauce will thicken as it cools). Serve. (Sauce can be refrigerated for up to 1 week. Reheat in microwave before serving.)

Mixed Berry Coulis

Makes about 1 ½ cups

The type of berries used as well as their ripeness will affect the sweetness of the coulis, so the amount of sugar is variable. Start with 5 tablespoons, then add more to taste in step 2. Additional sugar should be stirred into the warm coulis immediately after straining so that the sugar will readily dissolve.

15 ounces (3 cups) fresh or thawed frozen blueberries, blackberries, and/or raspberries

¼ cup water

5 tablespoons sugar, plus extra for sweetening

1/8 teaspoon table salt

2 teaspoons lemon juice

1. Bring berries, water, sugar, and salt to gentle simmer in medium saucepan over medium heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until sugar is dissolved, and berries are heated through, about 1 minute.

2. Process mixture in blender until smooth, about 20 seconds. Strain through fine-mesh strainer into bowl, pressing on solids to extract as much puree as possible; discard solids. Stir lemon juice into puree and sweeten with extra sugar as needed. Cover and refrigerate until well chilled, about 1 hour. Adjust consistency with extra water as needed. (Sauce can be refrigerated for up to 4 days; stir to recombine before using.)

Get Even:

Say goodbye to soupy tops and rock-solid centers. For evenly defrosted pints, don’t go straight from the freezer to counter. Instead, put the pints in the refrigerator for 30 minutes. Why? The greater the disparity between the temperature of the food and the temperature of the air around it, the more unevenly it warms up. The refrigerator tempers the ice cream, ensuring it defrosts evenly all the way through.

Spruce up store-bought Hot Fudge:

Nothing beats homemade, but if you’re popping open a jar instead, there are some things you can do to add a little pizzazz.

Spice it up with a sprinkle of ground cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, or even cayenne or curry powder.

Add a splash of mint, vanilla, almond, coconut, or anise extract.

Get boozy with some Grand Marnier, Chambord, or Kahlúa liqueur.

Catch a buzz by stirring in some instant espresso or matcha powder.

Recipes and images courtesy of “Board’s: Stylish Spreads for Casual Gatherings” America’s Test Kitchen

#boards #ice cream board #America's Test Kitchen #recipes

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noitanorjassa · 1 year

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10.11.2022

The term papers and assigments have finally landed and it seems like it’s all I do. Though it’s just 5h of actual, intense studying daily, it still is more than Ive done so far in here. Still, it´s quite possible that with this pace I will get everything done 2 weeks in advance but I think that´s part of the plan, so I can just chill and enjoy the winter here.

The polar night is what I´ve awaited the most even though I have experienced it before. The northern lights were on top of my list but it seems that on most nights it´s too cloudy here so you can´t see them. I think that is fine since I can still have the fjells and the actual 6 weeks of darkness. Tho I know from experience that it´s not going to be completely dark, a kind of sunset that lasts for 3 hours and then it slowly sets to dark skies again.

The assigments that I am working on at the moment are:

3 page essay about a “keyword” (probably Land) in 2 native american novels (I´m going with “There There” by Tommy Orange and “The Grass Dancer” by Susan Power).

8 page essay of a deeper analysis on either of the books I´ve mentioned above

10-15 page essay analysis about Faulkner´s “As I lay dying”, I´ll pair southern gothic with the “downfall of the slavery system”

10-15 page essay about “Bewilderment” (by Richard Powers), with a gender studies and ecocritical lens

past assigments (things I´ve finished in the past 3 days):

A presentation of the violence against native american women

Backround statistics hunting for the said presentation

Two smaller 2 -page essays (for Native lit + theory of lit courses)

4 very small, 400 -page “blog posts” for the Native Lit course

Read both Faulkner´s “Absalom Absalom!” and “The Only Good Indians” by Stephen Graham Jones

Started reading Faulkner´s “Go down Moses”

... Looking at the list makes me understand why I feel ~a bit~ stressed and why my undereyes hurt. Should sleep more but we had two nights of clear skies so obviously I had to stay up all night sky watching. It was a nice full moon too. I have been too busy to actually practice my norwegian but I will get back to it after I get some of this work amount done.

There´s snow on the mountains but not in here anymore, it was a couple of degrees on the plus C side and it melted from the lowlands area. Waiting that maybe it could snow more on the following 4 days that´s supposed to be rainy anyways and it would be bright and lovely.

#student exchange #uni work #arktiske universitet i tromsø #uni life #Literature Student #study diary #studyblr #william faulkner #leanne betasamosake simpson #indigenous literature #native american literature #feminist studies

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simon-x-billy · 2 years

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Simon x Billy

Chapter One: Where’s Giuseppe WTF?

Fandoms: The Mortal Instruments universe and all books by Cassandra Clare | the BBC’s Me & Mrs. Jones | Robert Sheehan

T/W: Bad language, and a really bad sense of humor. And just in case you really don’t like it, Italy. Voldemort is not Clary. Clary would never move to the Upper West Side.

AN: The year is 2015. Most importantly, the only thing original about this story is Italy and the photos I took there. I’ve stolen liberally from Cassandra Clare, TJKlune, and all m|m authors I’ve ever read. I’m using every m|m trope I can. Please tell me if: A. Something sounds a little too familiar. B. You’d like to be on a tag list for future chapters. I respond from @firstpersonnarrator

Chapter 1: Where’s Giuseppe WTF?

-----/Simon/-----

The train ran on time. And the Red Sea parted. Two impossibilities amounting to miracles.

So yeah, sure, I’d done some prepping for the trip. I refuse to reveal my sources as they are completely mortifying. OK fine, it wasn’t even an app. It was a book. With pictures in it. More specifically, the one my parents used when they planned their trip to the Amalfi Coast.

I used it to plan Our Trip. The one that became My Trip. Flying solo. In so, so many ways.

Believe me, and you need to trust me on this one: Never propose to a girl you met in costume. And if you did and it turned out great, shut up. And mazel tov. May all your children have bar and bat mitzvahs with a good dj. And puppies.

Just remember, your first impression of her is while she’s cosplaying someone else. You might find you’re falling for a personality that isn’t really her on the inside. The whole thing is exhausting. Because my beautiful but cruel shiki found somebody else to cosplay with.

She revealed this shortly after breaking up with me.

No, Simon. I do not choose you. No, Simon. I never choose you. Said every girl ever.

She gave me lots of reasons why. Constructive observations for my next relationship, she said. So at least I had something to think about on the plane to Naples that made me feel really good about myself. For 22 hours including two layovers and a bonus train ride from the airport to downtown Naples. (Trust me, just fly into Rome. Why didn’t it occur to me to fly into Rome?)

I once read a book where the most flamboyant, exciting character said something of extreme poetry and wisdom. (Because poetry and wisdom can both be extreme. Whatever.) It went a little something like this: “Unsolicited advice is just criticism.” Ok fine, I’ve read it more like 25-30 times. Alright look, I can’t be coy, I wrote it. And 25-30 is how many revisions my editor tried to convince me to take it out. (I won.)

What can I say, I love stories that stretch out over like 20 books in a series. You get to stay with the characters you love until you finally stop re-starting the series the minute you close the last page of the last book. Again.

I think I’d be a vampire irl. And I have thought a lot about it. I mean a lot of thinking on this topic. And you can’t convince me that fairies and werewolves are even in the running for best paranormal destiny.

I love stories where choosing to be a vampire is one of the safer bets. Because you’re already dead.

Don’t start. I’ve fought table top duels over this and I refuse to go over that ground again. Take my word for it. You want to be a vamp.

She was a vamp. I was a vamp. (D, because who else?) We thought we were made for each other. Until she didn’t. Think that anymore. I guess she’d been not-thinking that anymore for months and months. And here I am, presenting her with a trip to Italy where I was going to propose. I had it all planned out. I mean I had it all planned out. Because that’s how I roll. (A 20-sided die, obviously.) Ugh. So when she says she doesn’t want to leave the city, I’m like, “But it’s Italy! And me!”

Turns out the trip wasn’t the only thing she didn’t want.

Turns out she was also being quite literal about not leaving the city. And so, like the heartless traitor she is, she abandoned Brooklyn for the Upper West Side and a yoga instructor with a man bun and half a million followers on Twitter.

Half a million? What even is that? I mean, I get 100 followers -- wow, friend, you are on fire! I get a million followers -- wow, somewhat famous person, you are on fire! But, like, what’s halfway between the two?

So the “hot yoga instructor” -- her words, not mine -- is a person that exists. I told her that she didn’t have to be mean about another, hotter guy. And you know what’s coming next. You totally do.

The hot yoga instructor is an instructor of hot yoga.

But since I mentioned it, she laughed and said he is also a hot instructor, of yoga.

Thanks. I don’t feel angry tears at all when I think about that.

Anyways, I was talking about trains in Italy running on time, which is like absolute and unrepentant dad humor. And somehow I eventually land on vamps. Welcome to the brain of Simon Lewis, enjoy your stay.

Oh my god. There’s a McDonalds here. It’s like a crime against Italian humanity. “That should be illegal,” I announce to no one in particular. Followed by “Shut up, Lewis, that guy over there is staring.” And yes, I do use my last name when I scold myself out loud in public. Because people find that attractive and charismatic.

So the train in Italy running on time is actually my problem. “My driver” isn’t due for another 30 minutes. Which means I get to spend an additional 30 minutes enjoying my own company some more. And also avoiding talking to any strangers. Which is particularly difficult in the Naples train station. And even more unlikely when you’re standing in the same spot forever and ever.

I’m full of my mother’s dire predictions of criminal young people offering their services to help you find your way around the train station. And when that fails, they’re supposed to start begging for money. And when that fails, Oliver and the Artful Dodger pick your pocket. So put your money and your passport down the back of your underwear or something equally unworkable when you’re dealing with Customs.

That little gem was actually written in the margins of the travel book. By my mother. So I wouldn’t forget to keep it in my pants. “Simon, don’t forget about the criminal young people. Keep it all in your underpants.”

So standing here looking like I’m waiting (and waiting and waiting), I’m an easy target. But as my t-shirt says, I’m from Brooklyn. We do not pay people to tell us where we are and which line to stand in. It’s a matter of pride. Unbelievable.

Being from Brooklyn, I understand trains. I can find my way around any train station in the world. Hubris! But it’s true. Even in foreign alphabets. It’s in my blood, it’s in the East River, it’s in the soot-flecked air we New Yorkers are born breathing.

So here I am in the Naples train station with my underwear full of credit cards, IDs, and my emergency contacts laminated in both English and Italian. And now I also have that hot tingling in my eyes and the slight burn in my sinuses that threaten angry tears again.

I’m supposed to see a little old man with a big old mercedes, holding up a sign saying “Simon Lewis.” His name is Giuseppe and he came very highly rated on travelbookie.com. Very highly rated. I can say I knew him way back after he was cool.

So… Ok… This guy is definitely not Giuseppe. He doesn’t look that much older than me. He’s an awfully chatty Irishman named Billy. So I’m like, “What’s Billy in Italian?”

“Fuck if I know,” he laughs. “They just say Beelee. Which puts me off every time, if I’m honest. God bless ‘em, they’re beautiful people, right, but Beelee is so wrong.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Delaney.”

“So in Italian, you’re Beelee Day-la-nay.”

“Y’speak Italian then, do yeh?” he laughs.

“Fluently. This app taught me how to say ‘dog’ and ‘blouse’ and I leveled up really fast -- one of my great talents, btw.’

“Levelin up is it? Or Italian?”

“Italian. Certo. That means certainly, but you use it kind of like you would use ‘obvi.’”

“Obvi,” he snorts. “Are you mansplainin the language of the place I live to me?”

“Certo.”

Billy rewards me with a low chuckle. It may have been low and just a chuckle, but it was real. Being a connoisseur and collector of bad puns and dad jokes, I have a finely tuned ear for real laughter, as opposed to the usual laughing-just-to-be-nice.

“So I’m better off with Beelee Daylanay. I’ll have a talk with my boss and ask him to use my full name or nothin at all.” That at least gets a snort out of me. Until he says, “What about you? Are you lookin forward to bein Seemon? Sorry, mate. I think yours might be worse than mine.”

-----/-/-----

We’ve been talking all this time and I forgot to look out the window. As if I’m not on my dream vacation. Runner-up, actually. I’m holding my best dream vacation (Venice) for when Ms. I Do Lewis actually says, “I do.” And I will not book the rooms til after she does.

“Sorry, what was that?” I’ve been staring into space and ignoring Mr. Daylanay, who is now looking at me funny in the rear view mirror.

“Nothin important. Where’d you go, mate?”

“New York to Frankfurt to Milan to Naples. I flew out of JFK.”

“I’ll pretend to know where that is. No,” he says, “I meant just now. You disappeared behind your face.”

Um… “I did what?”

“I’ve been the only one enjoyin the sound of my voice, apparently, since you went quiet about five minutes ago. So where’d you go? Back behind your face,” he prompts.

“That’s an awfully private question, Mr. Daylanay. I’m not sure we’re good enough friends for letting you behind my face.” I kinda stumble on the word friends, cuz… we’re not.

“What. Is that like bein let in to visit the little man behind the curtain? That sounds a bit-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how it sounds.” I make sure to roll my eyes loudly so he can hear. My mother always says she can hear my eyes rolling from the next room.

“Cagey one, aren’t ya?”

“Nosey, intrusive one, aren’t ya?” I counter.

He bobs his head and gives me a simple, “Ok.”

And now it’s gone quiet. I decide to disappear behind my face again for a while. I quite like it there. Maybe one day the whole world will join me. (Obscure movie reference, don’t bother.)

“Does she have a name?” he breaks into my sinking mood.

“What- Why?”

“Well, Seemon, because every story worth tellin about people generally has a name or two in it. Unless yer feelin all avant-garde while you're busy behind your face, contemplatin. Things.”

Ok, now I’m starting to get tired of his persistence. “I like to think of her as She Who Shall Not Be Named.”

“Like Voldemort. In a nighty.”

The bark of a laugh just erupts out of me before I can stop it from encouraging him. “That is the most disturbing image I’ve ever had.” My dull ache of a mood evaporates as quickly as it came, uninvited and unwelcome on this trip.

“You’re off the hook for now, but if I see you again, I’ll want to hear more about Ms. She Who Shall Not Be Named.”

And just like that, I’m annoyed again. “No.”

“Ok,” he says again.

-----/-/-----

While apparently spending more time behind my face, I realize I’ve ignored over 45 minutes of the view in a foreign country. Again I’m annoyed. Isn’t he supposed to be narrating the countryside, or something? Giuseppe would be narrating the countryside. I frickin paid for that narration.

“So what am I looking at?” I lob at him.

“Naples.”

“Funny.” I hope he can hear my eyes rolling.

“Hold up, I’m not finished yet! That great U-shape, right, that’s the Bay of Naples. The city herself is over there in the distance, all the way at the far end of the bay. All the wee towns strung out and all bunched up against the sea as tight as can be sketch out the shape of the bay and on along to the Sorrentine Peninsula -- where we’re goin. The big blue bit beyond the bay-”

“Is the Mediterranean. Yeah, I got that much.”

“Nah, mate. You don’t. See, it’s the Tyrrhenian Sea, which is just the part of the Mediterranean between the boot of Italy and Spain.”

“Thanks so much for the oceanography lesson.”

“Bit tetchy, aren’t yeh?” he says, eyeing me in the rearview mirror. “Look, mate. I’m sorry if I rubbed ye up the wrong way with makin conversation. I’m just not used to fillin in on the delivery service. That’s a specific kind of hospitality. Mine might be a bit more suited to conversatin across a bar. In that situation, all of this would have been charmin.”

I can see him smiling at me in the rearview, trying to reset the mood.

“So you’re a bartender, not a driver. But you do work at the hotel. Right? Or…”

“Yeah sure’n I fill in at the bar when I’m needed.” He clarifies, “Acourse it’s just that the season’s barely started, and some of the summer staff are still not yet back from wherever they’re livin the rest of the year.”

“So you’re not a ba-”

“Aaaaand, here we are,” he declares, pulling off the road going way too fast into what appears to be open air. But when I don’t feel us driving off a cliff, I open my eyes to see an ornate iron gate, a tile roof, a million flowering bushes, and more than one fountain.

“Allow me to be the first to welcome yeh to the Hotel Terrazze di Limoni. I’ll just fetch your bags, shall I?”

-----/-/-----

Masterlist | ao3 | Start here! | Next

Photos: 1. Billy Delaney, via @vousnavezrienvu 2. Simon Lewis, 3. Leaving Naples behind for Sorrento, 4. Looking back toward Naples, with Sorrento in the foreground, 5. Robbie as Simon. Anybody know the gif source?

Dear Cassandra Clare: I’m sorry for pretending that Simon Lewis wrote every one of your books.

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aj-the-cat · 3 years

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The Memories of a Lost Man

Masterlist

Undertaker (American Badass) and F!Reader

Tags: A little thank-you gift for @ava-valerie for her extreme kindess <3

(Also if you'd like to be on my tag list please let me know!)

Warnings: Human pain, emotions/slight feels, a very fluffy ending

KEY:

Y/N - Your name

N/N- Nickname

(I only use these once)

~*~*~ 1 Year Ago ~*~*~

"Are you sure you want to do this, my love?" A soft voice rang out.

"Just do it. Please. It's what I think is best for right now." A gruff one replied.

A small girl opened a large book to a certain book and held her hand out to the large man in front of her. She started chanting, and her irises disappeared and wisps of light escaped from her outstretched hand.

The man in front of her took a deep breath and opened his arms to his side. The wisps of magic enveloped his body, slowly turning a dark purple. The man's face contorted in extreme pain, and tears ran down the girl's face.

When the chanting finished, the man fell on the floor and a ball of dark purple magic stood in front of her. The girl held out an open locket with a picture of the man inside.

She whispered a sentence and the ball shot into the locket, pushing the girl back a bit. When the ball had disappeared, the locket snapped shut.

The girls irises reappered and she dropped the book and locket. Tears still rand down her face and she ran to the fallen man, crying over his limp body.

Hesitantly, she reached a hand to his chest and felt the faint heartbeat of a human man. She cried harder at her sudden realization and fell on top of him, clutching at his face.

"I'm so sorry, my love."

~*~*~ Present Day ~*~*~

The distant rumble of a motorcycle grew louder and louder, ringing off the walls of the parking garage and gaining the attention of a girl reading on top of a truck. She looked up from her book at the man riding the two-wheeled vehicle.

Once the engine shut off, the girl got down from her reading place and met the man getting off his motorcycle. "Welcome to the arena! How was the ride?" The girl asked, a hopeful smile on her face. The man just grunted and lifted his bag higher onto his shoulder.

The smile on the girl faltered a bit, but she tried again. "What do you have planned tonight, Mr. Undertaker? I was hoping we could talk." The man, Undertaker, stopped in his tracks and let out a sigh.

"Listen l'il lady, I don' know who you are, an' yet you keep pesterin' me every time we come to a new arena. I'd like some peace away from annoyin' people like you." His goateed mouth went up in a snarl.

The pain that took over the girl's heart made her lips tremble, and tears come to her eyes. Undertaker scoffed and walked away, leaving the girl standing there, sniffling.

'How could I be so stupid?!' She thought, and a hand came up to clutch the locket she wore. 'The side effects of the spell were specific memory loss. I had hoped he would've remembered me at least.'

Sadly, the girl started to walk to her dressing room, thoughts clouding her mind and tears staining her cheeks.

'If I could make him remember...'

~*~

A large smile was quickly replaced by a determined face as the girl came through Gorilla, worn out from a match just a couple minutes ago and she started to walk to her dressing room, only for Vince to appear in her face.

"You were great out there, Y/N! One step closer to the Women's Title!" A large smile was plastered on his face. The girl desperatly tried to hide her annoyance from her boss. "Yeah, yeah. Vince I told you a dozen times to call me N/N."

Vince rolled his eyes. "Please, come with me. I'd like to discuss future plans for you and the title." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and the girl tensed up. "Vince, I'd love to, but I'm in a hurry and I really need to go." She put on a fake smile, and Vince sighed.

"Fine. But be in my office two days from now at 10 AM sharp!" He let go of her shoulders and like a bullet, she took off running to her dressing room. 'Creep.'

Once inside, she quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and grabbed the bag on the couch before darting out again.

She ran to the parking garage, darting her eyes around to try to find the all too familiar motorcycle she's come to slightly hate. She ran over and set her bag down and sat down on the seat.

Opening up the back, she took out a large book, a tube of lipstick and some makeup wipes. she wiped her lips off and threw the wipe back into the bag.

Next, she grabbed the book and opened it, skimming the pages until she got to a specific page. She smiled a bit and looked at the page, carefully reading it over and mouthed words.

Finally, she set the book aside and picked up the tube of lipstick. 'Here goes hope.' She thought and held out the tube and began chanting. Her irises disappered and the tube in her hand glowed a bright pink.

The book, which had been balanced on the seat, fell with a loud SMACK. The girl didn't notice, and continued her chanting on the lipstick.

~*~

The Undertaker was fumbling with his keys, fresh out of a match and slightly angry Vince had tried some shennanigans, when he heard the smack from the parking garage. He looked up and saw the faint pink glow, and curiousity struck him.

He took off his sunglasses and walked to parking garage, following the light. His mood soured when he realized it was coming from where his bike was. "I swear, if some jackass is messing with my bike..." His voice trailed off when he noticed the scene in front of him, and he quickly hid behind a nearby car to take a longer look.

The girl from earlier was sitting on the seat of his motorcycle, arm outstretched and holding something, her hand glowing a soft pink. But the thing that struck him odd was that the girl had no irises. "What the hell?" He whispered out.

Suddenly, the girls chanting stopped and her irises slowly returned. The pink glow faded and the girl let out a huge breath. "God I hope this works." She uncapped the thing in her hand, which turned out to be lipstick, and she applied it to her lips.

Undertaker turned his head away from the scene and took a moment to absorb everything that happened. 'Her hand. Was glowing. She had. No eyes.' He just became more confused, and decided to confront the girl.

He got up from his spot and walked to the girl, who immedietly got up and started walking towards him. He opened his mouth to speak, and the girl jumped on top of his and kissed him.

'WHAT THE HELL?!'

He tried to fight the kiss, but something felt right about it. Some fog he unknowingly had clouding his mind lifted, and memories flooded back to him. Heartwarming, sad, shocking, happy, all flooding at once.

The girl stopped kissing him, looking at his dazed expression with hope. Undertaker shook his head a bit to clear his fog, his hand came to his head, and looked at the girl. "Love? What happened?"

Tears welled up in the girl's eyes and she hugged the confused man. "Everything will come back to you, my love. Just relax." He hugged the girl back, and realization set in.

"Oh my god, 'M sorry I treated 'ya like that baby. God, what was I thinkin'?" The girl laughed and stopped hugging him, looking into his green eyes. "I'm so glad you're back, honey." She smiled softly at Undertaker and he picked her up, causing her to squeal in delight.

"'M glad too. Now hows about we go for a ride, just you and me, to catch up." He looked at the girl and softly smiled.

"I would love that." She replied.

#undertaker #american badass #x reader #fanfic #wwf #wwe

61 notes · View notes

ms-freakenstein · 3 years

Text

I dont usually do my stuff like this but I decided to just post this as a text translation since I translated this a looong time ago, if there is anyone willing to edit it I would really appreciate it 😢

Source: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/65214196

Link to the full raw pages here

Full text translation below

Page 1

M: uncle how was the breakfast this morning?

L: today makes it the 3rd time you've been making me breakfast before going to school

L: what are you aiming for?

M: at the 3rd week this month...

L: give it up

L: you just want to borrow my apartment on Christmas day right?

L: I will be in here on that day (he already has plans)

L: you would have to look for a different place

L: the breakfasts you made are delicious

L: all of the ingredients you used are mine though

M: if you already noticed then you should have told me on day 1 you midget!!

Page 2

H: in your apartment?

H: in christmas eve?

H: now that I think of it your birthday is on 25 right

H: I'll take along the members of my research team lets all celebrate together

H: you can take along some of your co workers too lets all have fun together ❤

Black text: my room would be in a mess

Theres not one proper person in them

E: if you let us borrow your room I'll make it clean

E: I'll repay you!

Page 3

M: eh you'll let me borrow your apartment? For real?

M: no, we don't need the bedroom

Box: Levi started looking for a lodging

Box: but it is almost christmas eve would he be able to book an accommodation!?

Page 4

M: I think... This atmosphere is nice

M: right now all the girls are giving it their all for me

M: so I could spend time with Eren, just the two of us

M: now that I think of it Eren... Well, I did told him to buy some food he would like to eat

M: ah

E: I'm sorry for being late

E: it's just that there's too many things on the shopping district so I got confuse what to buy

Page 5

E: look, this seems very chirstmas like right

Black text: santa sushi!

E: here theres also chopsticks

M: thank you

E: the chicken is delicious! Did you made this? It taste like kentucky

M: actually that really is kentucky

E: so I was right, as I thought

M: the hand made one is the salad

E: I see, then it will be easy to tidy this up later

Box: the smell on vinegar floats in the air

Box: and Mikasa is happy

Page 6

A: ah it's really delicious~

A: Hanji san sure do know some nice store

M: how about we all go to karaoke?

G: that sounds good

L: thanks for celebrating with us today

L: be careful on your way there you drunkards

P: eehh~~ Levi san are you not going~~

A: lets all go together~~ we should sing together ~~

B: then, lets go.

N: take care you two~

L: refusing to have the party on my house is the right choice after all

L: those guys probably won't go home

Page 7

H: waa~ they illuminated this vicinity too

H: it's so pretty

H: somehow it makes you want to talk about something romantic right? Levi

L: that's right... The lodge that we're going to right now is actually a high class hotel they have a christmas only couples deal

L: and it seems that they have already prepared a christmas tree and a wine inside the room

L: I booked it after confirming through phone that the room was vacant, apparently the couple who originally booked it cancelled... 3days before their appointed date.

H: hee~ is it twin? Or double?

L: it's double

H: I wonder what happened to that couple...

L: I wonder... We don't really need to know

H: um.. Then why did you even brought it up?

Page 8

H: there really is a christmas tree and wine~~~

H: this hotel is for real!

H: the bed look so soft too~

L: hey wait!

H: eh

L: you'll dirty the bed if you lay there with your dirty clothes, you need to take a bath first if you want to change clothes.

H: eehh~~ here comes the clean freak

L: shut up! You need to wash off the smell from the bar that stick with you

Box: Hanji's bath time

H: aaahh this bed feels incredibly good

L: they serve the breakfast up until 10 am and we'll check out at 11am, do you understand?

L: don't you dare sleep yet.

H: yes, yes I know

Page 9

Box: Levi's bathing time

H: Levi might be a nagger

H: but still he always makes time for us to meet like this

H: he also got this place on such a short period

H: he did it despite being busy at work

H: I have to make sure to let him rest tomorrow... Too

H: ah

H: the wine is still...

L: sigh

L: are you serious...

L: she's sleeping

Page 10

L: I did everything for this moment.

L: I prepared this even though I barely have time

L: damn it!

Page 11

L: it cant be helped

L: I guess I'll let her rest for a little while

L: that's right

L: I should rest too

L: for a bit...

Page 12

Box: dec 25

Box: current time 10am

Box: the time for the breakfast buffet is over

Box: checking out by 11am

Unknown: the two of you would be 62,000 yen

H: over 60,000 yen for sleeping together overnight!!

H: I'm really sorry... it would have been fine if you hit me to wake me up you know!

L: that's my initial plan but I felt comfortable and ended up falling asleep too

H: ahaha!

Page 13

H: then what should we do now, we'll find a proper place to have our lunch, stroll around

H: then after that should we go to my house

H: but soon enough, the distance is a bit far and our time is already messy

H: we should put it in order first

H: thanks for the nice lodging, I really slept well yesterday!

H: it's been a while since I had a sleep as good as that

(I usually only get to nap)

L: You... You should always sleep properly.

Box: the time he spent together with Hanji is longer than what was planned and deep inside, it made Levi happy.

#levihan #levi #hanji #translation

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harrystyleswatermelon-sugar · 4 years

Text

The assistant

„Miss Y/L/N, I can´t bring any of the other women here, when they would hear who the client is…they would freak out. I know you hate being the plenipotentiary and to certify the purchase contract outside of the notary…but you literally have no choice,” my boss says and I sigh. I know he is right and I know I have to go, but I don´t want. I hate it. I like being in my office, having no contact with strangers and do my thing.

“I can do it, I think. But who is this mysterious famous client? Bon Jovi? The Queen?” I ask and laugh a bit my boss rolls his eyes at me and I stop laughing. Sometimes I forget what a jerk he is and try to be myself.

“It´s Harry Styles, you know him?” he asks and hands me the file. I flip through the pages until I find the draft. He buys a huge mansion in Hampstead Heath. Its value is £8.5. million and I gasp at the numbers. So much money.

“Yes, I do know him. I like his music, but I am not an obsessive fan,” I answer my boss´s question and he nods.

“I thought so, okay the appointment is tomorrow at 10. We are meeting at his house. Please dress formal,” he says and I nod. Normally I just wear denim and a nice top, but with someone this range, I understand that we have to look presentable.

The next morning, I am indeed a bit nervous. It is not every day that I have to accompany my boss or meet a famous singer. I look at myself and nod in agreement. This is perfect. I chose a formal tight fitted dress in dark blue with a brown blazer and brown shoes. I put on some makeup and took the time to curl my hair, so it falls in flowy waves over my back.

Last night I googled our client and to be honest, I am pretty excited to see him. He seems nice and very attractive.

My boss collects me at our law firm and we drive to Harry Styles house. I carry Harrys file with the certificate and my bag. Mr Smith holds in front of a gate and presses a small button. No name is on the sign, but I think that is for safety reasons. The gate opens and I wonder, why he opens without checking who we are but then I see a small camera and realise, he sees us.

As we walk to the front door, it opens and I see him. He is beautiful, just stunning. Mr Smith shakes his hand and introduces me.

“This is Miss Y/L/N. She will sign the contract for the seller, he can´t be here today. She is authorized to do so,” Harry smiles at me and shakes my hand as well. He is tall and his eyes are sparkling, wandering over me.

“Hello, very nice to meet you,” he says and I smile back at him.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr Styles.” he leads us into his house and we sit down at the huge dining table. He already set up some glasses, water and cookies. They look hand-made, did he really bake?

Mr Smith explains Harry how it will work and starts reading the contract. He has to do so, but I don’t need to listen. I look around me and wonder how it is to be living in such a huge house all by yourself. It must be very lonely.

I see some guitars next to a piano, some sheets with notes and a few books. The room is dominated by a huge couch and a Flatscreen. In the corner, there is a fireplace and everything looks fancy and expensive. I look at my hands, my not so fresh manicure and I suddenly get embarrassed of myself. I am usually not self-conscious but in front of this gorgeous human being, I suddenly am. I get a bit nervous and Harry seems to notice, that I am not as comfortable as before. His eyes look a bit concerned and he cuts Mr Smith off by asking me:

“Are you okay?” I turn red and nod.

“Yeah, everything´s fine,” I answer and smile at my boss, scared that he might get upset. Sadly, I don’t have the best relationship with him, he often gets really annoyed and shouts at me. I am his personal assistant after all, but he is an idiot. If he wants something, he can be really nice but otherwise he usually is an idiot.

Harrys eyes follow mine and he looks at my boss. Mr Smith raises an eyebrow at me and I bite my lip. Oh god, I think I will be in trouble. He continues reading the contract as I can feel, that Harry is still looking at me. I avoid looking at him and stare at my hands.

Mr Smith finishes reading and shows Harry, where he has to sign. Harry does what he has to do and then it is my turn. I look at his hand, as he hands me the pen and smile at him.

“Thanks,” I mumble under my breath and he smirks, touching my hand on purpose as I take the pen. My hand is shaking a bit and I know, that both men notice it.

“I just check, if my information is alright,” I say and flip to the correct site. I read the paragraph and nod. Then I sign right under Harry and hand everything to Mr Smith. He signs and puts everything back into the file, so I can make an official document out of it, when we are back.

“Mr Styles, it was a pleasure meeting you. I think we will head back now and don’t bother you anymore,” Mr Smith says and I am eager to control the reflex and not roll my eyes. He is so over the top friendly, that I cringe. It is disgusting. Harry notices it too and snorts inhumanly. He shakes his hand and then smiles at me, as he says:

“It was nice meeting you too. Have a good day,” he takes my hand in his as Mr Smith walks already out the door.

“Maybe somewhere else,” Harry winks at me and I beam at him. He is flirting with me! With me!

“I doubt that. I don’t think you hang around the same places as I do,” I answer and he shrugs his shoulders.

“You never know, Y/F/N Y/L/N…I will find you, in a not creepy way hopefully,” we both laugh and I look at my boss, who is waiting for me.

“I have to go, he will get mad,” I say and let go of his hand.

“Don’t let him treat you under your value. No one deserves that,” I hear Harry say and walk to the car.

“Was about damn time, what did you two talk about?” my boss asks me and I better get a good reason, or I will definitely be in trouble.

“He wanted to know what the next steps are,” I say and buckle my seatbelt in. I look at Harry, as we leave and he smiles at me. I am a bit sad, that I will probably not see him again, he is really gentle and nice.

A few weeks later I get a call in my office from our front desk.

“Hey, Y/N. Here is a young man in the line who wants to talk to you. He says his name is Selyts but I couldn’t find anything on him” I laugh and immediately get what happens here. My heart skips a beat and I tell Mary, it is alright.

“White Horse Solicitors and Notary Public, my name is Y/L/N, how can I help you,” I say my usual line, as I am not 100% sure it is Mr Styles.

“Hello Miss Y/L/N. This is-“I interrupt him, because as I hear his voice, I am sure.

“Mr Styles, hello,” I say and he laughs surprised.

“Oh, I was able to fool the lady at the front desk, but not you. I´m not surprised, you figured it, when you heard the name, right?” He asks and I grin. He is such a flirt.

“Yes, I knew it immediately. How can I help you?” I reply and lean back in my chair.

“Well honestly…I just wanted to hear if everything is going it's way?”

“Yes, sure. We sent everything away and I think there will be the announcement of registration and then it is officially yours. As soon as you pay,” I explain to him over the phone. He laughs and I can imagine how his eyes squeeze and I shake my head. He is a fucking client, get your shit together Y/N.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, as long as I get a receipt. So, I don’t need to come to the office or anything else? That´s just it?” he asks and I smile sadly.

“That´s just it. No need to come here, besides my colleagues would freak out if they saw you,” I warn him and hear him laughing once again. His laugh is really cute – oh, stop it Y/N!

“So that’s why you were here? Because you don’t care who I am?”

“Uhm…well, at least I can be professional, what doesn’t mean I don’t care. Please hold on a minute, Mr Smith is coming in” I say just as my boss enters my office, of course without knocking. Before I can put Harry on hold, he already shouts at me.

“Miss Y/L/N, what the fuck did I say about putting the pieces IN. THE. RIGHT. ORDER. Into the file? Is it really that you are so stupid, you don’t even get the simplest thing right? Can you even brew a proper coffee? Probably not, I know why you aren’t a lawyer, because you are just to damn stupid to put the papers in the correct order!” his voice is bitter and he looks so pissed, that I just stare at the ground ashamed. I am sure, I put them in the right order, so it has to be someone else´s fault, but blaming someone else wouldn’t make this better.

“I´m sorry, Mr Smith. I will take care of it,” I mumble and he throws the file at the carpeted floor. Papers fly around and the cover rips open. It will take me at least three hours to get this massive file in order again. Great, I had planned to meet a friend after work. I guess I can quit that now. My boss slams the door shut when he leaves and I get on my knees to collect the papers. I suddenly remember the phone and gasp. I forgot to put Harry on hold, he probably heard everything and I run back to the phone.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I mutter as I see, that the red light is still out. It should be on, to prevent the caller from listening.

“Mr Styles? I´m back…do you have any more questions?” I say and I really hope he didn’t hear anything from the previous conversation.

“No, I mean…yes…what happened?” he asks and I can´t possibly tell him what happened.

“Oh nothing, everything´s fine here. It´s just a bit stressful, I am going to work overtime today, that´s all,” I answer and close my eyes. Hopefully he buys it.

“Okay, then have a good evening and don’t work too much. Don’t forget to eat and don’t let your boss get to you. You are awesome,” he says and I turn bright red. He is so nice, I can´t handle it.

“Don´t worry. Bye, Mr Styles. It was nice meeting you” we say our final goodbyes and as I hang up, I bury my face in my hands. Oh, dear god.

The whole new organization of the file takes way longer than expected. It turns out, someone messed up the whole file and it is one of the biggest we have. At 11 PM I am devastated, hungry and tired. Good thing is, tomorrow is Saturday so I can sleep as long as I want.

I let my head sink on my desk onto all those papers and sigh. This was such a hard day and it is not yet over. I still have a few papers to organize and I flinch, as someone knocks on my office door. Everybody left hours ago, I thought I was alone.

“Who´s there?” I ask and hope I look at least half presentable. The door opens and I see Harry Styles lurking around the corner. He smiles as he sees me and I sit straight up.

“H…ello Mr Styles. What are you doing here? It is the middle of the night,” I say and rescue myself by turning the original H from Harry into the H from hello.

“Hello, love. I thought you might be hungry and overworked, so I brought you some food and company,” he says and I smile. Too sweet, but why? I don’t even know him.

“Thank you, that’s so nice of you. But really not necessary, you are our client. You shouldn’t be here,” I answer and he presses his lips together.

“Look, Miss Y/L/N. I heard your argument with Mr Smith and I noticed, that you are afraid of him. I thought I am coming around and show you some appreciation of what he clearly doesn’t do, so this is for you. If you want me to leave, that´s fine…I will. Just take the food and be sure your work is greatly appreciated,” he says smiling and puts the bag on my desk.

This is the nicest thing someone has done for me in a long time. This is amazing and so thoughtful of him. He turns around and walks to the door.

“Wait…would you like to eat with me?” I ask him and he turns half around, smiling.

“Sure, I´d love to. But please call me Harry,” he suggests and I put the files and papers away. He sits down in front of my desk and gets out all the stuff he bought.

“Oh god, Mr Smith will kill me…but my name is Y/N,” I reply and sit down. We eat together, talking about the contract and my boss.

“I am not allowed to talk about such things, but you are right. He is horrible,” I just reply to his question.

“Why do you work here, then? I think you could work anywhere you want. I bet you have a good education,” he assumes and I nod. He is right, my education is pretty good.

“I don’t know, maybe I am afraid of changes,”

“Change is good, really. We need change. You clearly need it.” He answers and I look at him. His green eyes never leave mine until I break the eye contact and sigh.

“I don’t know, I´m always so afraid,”

“Don’t be. Just do it, be brave. It´s worth it,” he says and I roll my eyes at him. Sure, being brave sounds good, if you have a fortune and don’t care about any normal job.

I get up and begin collecting the waste, to throw it away.

“I am not brave at all,” I finally answer and look at him. He gets up from his chair and sees directly into my eyes. His hands are on my arms, as he now says:

“Then be it. Just try. What would you do, if you´d be brave and would care less about this job?” he asks me and I can´t look away. I would kick the file from my desk, kiss Harry, fuck with him on my desk and then go home and face my boss with no fear on Monday. But I know I´d never do one of those things.

“Do it. Whatever you are thinking now, do it,” he requests and I look over to the file on my desk. He is right, I should just be brave and do it and don’t care about this job. I will find another one, definitely. I smile shyly, move to the file and throw it on the ground. It feels good. Really relieving.

“Very good, I am proud of you!” Harry cheers and I laugh.

“Felt good?”

“Hell yes. You are right, I should do what is best for me, not for the company. I will quit, I wanted it for so long, but I was afraid,” I tell him and he nods.

“If that is what you want, yes. Do it.” He supports me and I think about how a stranger is capable of getting me to the final point to quit. My eyes meet his and I decide, to just do it, like he said. I walk over, grab his face with both my hands and press my lips on his. He immediately grabs my hips and pushes me backwards onto my desk. Two hearts, one idea. I rip off his shirt and he pulls mine over my head.

Sometime later, we both look at each other, swollen lips and panting. His chest is covered in sweat and I can´t believe I just got fucked by Harry Styles on my office desk. And it was damn good.

“That was…unexpected. I did not plan for this to happen,” Harry says out of breath and I grab my undergarments, to get dressed again.

“Well, it did happen,” I reply shy all of a sudden. Being naked in front of someone like him, who has seen models naked makes me insecure. As fast as I can, I put my dress back on and skip sliding into my thighs. I just shove them into my bag.

“Hey, look at me, Y/N.” he says with a calm voice and as I turn around, he comes to me. His eyes wandering over my face, when he takes my hands in his. He is in his briefs and his Shirt, but no pants yet. I look up and meet his green, mesmerizing eyes.

“This was not wrong. I want you to know that I came here to be close to you, to get to know you. I didn’t mean for this to happen right now and here, but it just shows that you feel the same as I do and that’s unbelievable. I want to date you, in private, no cameras, no media, just the two of us. How does that sound to you?” he asks and I can see the hope in his eyes. I am not sure, it is so unprofessional to date a client, but I like him. I do. He is so friendly and nice and to be honest, I already had a crush on him, before I met him but knowing him a bit better now…I am absolutely falling for him.

“I´d like that very much, yes,” I reply and smile at him.

“That´s good news but from now on, we take it slow okay? This happened, but I will date you the normal way, like any regular guy does,” he proposes and I laugh. As if he is a regular guy, but I just nod and hug him. He is so warm and his hug is very comforting and he smells amazing.

Four months later Harry and I are still dating, I quit my job after we met in my office and found a new job almost immediately. I get more salary, have a nicer work environment and it is closer to my home.

Until today we have been very secretive about our dating and mostly kept it out of the media. Here and there we were papped leaving a restaurant or just strolling around, but there is no evidence, that we are really dating.

“You, ready, love?” Harry asks and enters his bedroom. I am standing in front of the mirror and checking my appearance again and again.

“No, I don’t know. Maybe I should wear the other dress, I am scared this won´t look good next to your suit,” I whine and feel his arms snaking around my waist. Today is the day, we are going public. It is the world premiere of his new movie and he asked me to join him on the red carpet.

“You look absolutely beautiful, don’t worry,” he assures me and kisses my cheek. I look at us in the mirror. His suit is plain dark grey and he looks so good in it, it should be forbidden. My dress, on the other hand, is a sparkly dark red one with no straps or sleeves.

“I am so scared, what if your fans won´t like me? What if it would´ve been better to hide me?” I ask and look at the ground, as he turns me around in his arms.

“Darling, Y/N. I love you with all my heart and I mean it. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I am not leaving you, if my fans don’t like you. Which will not happen. There is nothing to not love on you,” he says and I smile at him. He just said that he loves me. I mean, I figured it but it is the first time one of us said it out loud.

“You love me,” I say and he giggles, resting his forehead on mine.

“I do. I love you,” he repeats and I kiss him passionately. My heart is about to explode and I just want to be near him, hold him, smell him.

“I love you too, Harry,” I reply and look at him. He hugs me and I press my body against him, clinging to him as if I am going to drown without him.

When we arrive at the premiere venue Harry takes my hand, as soon as we are out of the car.

“Just never let go, okay?” I beg him and he nods smiling.

“Never,” his voice is deep and raspy as I take a deep breath. We step into the flashing lights, are fired with questions and I just smile, holding on to Harry hand, turning, feeling him pulling me closer and letting go of my hand. I look at him in panic, but he grabs my hip, pressing me to his side and showing me off a bit, I think.

We finally get to the interviewers and I thought he has to be there alone, but he keeps tugging me with him. He does his interviews and finally, the big question comes.

“Who is joining you tonight? You look stunningly beautiful, by the way” the interviewer says to me and winks. I smile and nod thankful because he is so nice. Harry looks at me and smiles, as he answers.

“This is my girlfriend Y/N, she is breath-taking, you are right”

“It is official, Harry Styles is off of the market, dear ladies. Have a good night today and enjoy yourselves, but be careful this beautiful lady does not steal your show” he winks at us and I look down at our entwined hands.

“Oh, she always does, I am sure. Thank you mate, see you around” Harry says his goodbye and moves on to the next one. It takes so long, that I am nearly dried out when we finally get to the fans. They are so sweet, asking for pictures and autographs, some ask who I am and then want me to join the picture.

Inside we find our seats and I greet his co-stars, which I mostly know. The film is brilliant and I have to decline Harrys snogging attempts because I don’t want to miss anything. He frowns at me and sticks his tongue out. I laugh and when the credits appear I look at him, like a proud mom.

“I loved it, you were brilliant,” I say and lean in to kiss him.

“Thanks, babe. I love you,” he replies and smiles into the kiss. We hear some fans cheering behind us, as the lights turn on and we are still kissing each other.

“See they like you, just as I do,” he kisses my cheek once again and I laugh.

“I hope not, I don’t want to sleep with all of them,” he grins and winks at my response.

“Dirty girl,” we chuckle and then meet some more fans outside the venue before we head home to Harrys house.

Hello lovelies, I hope you liked my newest OS. Yes, I tried a bit smut and if you like it, I have another one with even more smut.

Let me know.

Love, xx

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles smut #Harry Styles Imagine #Harry Styles FF #Harry Styles blurb #Harry Styles Oneshot #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles fluff #1d #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction imagine #one direction oneshot #1dff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

156 notes · View notes

kimamanitranslate · 3 years

Text

Filled It With My Feelings Text Translation

Sorry it took so long, but I finished the text translation of Filled It With My Feelings, the Senyuu 10th anniversary book! I didn’t translate the Season 1 Episode 1 redraw though because I’m sure we can all recite what happens in there by heart at this point.

As it’s an illustration book, the translation is meant to be read along with the pictures - you can purchase the digital PDF of the book at hiaruron.booth.pm/items/2329424. You should be able to purchase it through PayPal or some international credit cards.

I’ve included the text under the cut, but you can also read it on the Google Docs here.

Please note I do not give permission to anyone to use this translation for scanlations. There’s a reason why I’m posting this as a text translation rather than as a scanlation - it reads perfectly fine along with the raw book.

However, feel free to use this for text-only translations to different languages, just send me a message about it.

Page 1

Title: Filled It With My Feelings 10th. senyu.

Page 2

Page 3

[Panel 1] SFX (Slime): *squeak* SFX (sword): *slam*

[Text Paragraph]

The story of Senyu first arrived on Tuesday, February 23rd, 2010 at 12:39 PM. Naturally, at that point, the name “Senyu” didn’t yet exist - a email was sent to my inbox entitled “A discussion about a new project.”

It was a rather vague email with few details, but at the time, I was working as a day labourer in a certain distribution centre in Tokyo’s Ota Ward. As I hauled around boxes, my days were filled with uneasy thoughts of my future- I gave up on becoming a mangaka, I started work at an anime company but I quit there too, what am I going to do from now on? So I pounced on that vague email- Maybe this will shine some clarity into my life!

Senyu. was the product borne out of that email, and to my great appreciation, it really did shine clarity into my life. My future, which had been dark and uneasy, was illuminated bright by the light of Senyu. I would like to say that was why I made the protagonist’s name “Alba” - which means dawn - but unfortunately, that isn’t the case. I only learned the meaning of Alba’s name later - it was a total coincidence.

Anyways, a lot has happened, but it’s now Senyu’s tenth anniversary.

Thank you very much. I never thought that I could continue for this long. This is all thanks to all of you, for supporting me all this way.

Senyu. is a part of my life at this point - I don’t plan to end it any time soon, so I will be counting on everyone for their continued support.

Haruhara Robinson.

Page 4

Alba

While this may be obvious, the character I’ve spent the most time with in this work no longer feels like a mere “character” to me.

He had a beta design with bangs. But since I thought he might seem more cheerful with his forehead showing, I settled on his current design. I intended to give him a haircut that was similar to characters like Kirimaru, but my lack of artistic skills at the time ended up giving him a hairstyle with a bizarre composition.

I struggle now with how to draw his hair well.

Hero Symbol

I’ve always liked the idea of accessories that had the symbol of a hero, so wanting to have the same concept in my own work, I did my best to think up a design. I was really happy when it came out as merch.

Page 5

Ros

His backstory is really something!

I feel like he carried the entirety of Senyu’s serious plotlines on his back. I thought of Senyu. as like a story that uses the protagonist Alba to give the completed story of Hero Sion a happy ending?

There were times when I was drawing things out that I thought, He feels kinda pitiful? But then in the story, Ros says, “Don’t judge people as pitiful by your own standards,” so then I thought, I-I’m sorry.

His equipment at the start was supposed to be like a machine that let him whip around his heavy sword like it was nothing, but everything ended before I explained any of that.

Page 6

Rchi

At the start, I just thought of her as a cute little girl. But gradually, she grew darker and darker, and by now, the dark aspects of her personality are a part of what makes her unique as a character.

Her hair accessory often disappears. Near the start, there was the explanation that it was confiscated when they were arrested, but beyond that it’s just because I forgot to draw it.

There was an explanation for why she was naked under her cloak during her first appearance, but I’ve forgotten it. I believe it was because since she was camping outside, she washed herself outside as well but her clothes were blown away by the wind - so she wrapped an old cloth around herself…?

Page 7

Foyfoy

The name “Foyfoy” was decided by an audience poll. At first, I was planning to make him Chinese-inspired, but before I realized it that concept had disappeared. His mark is leftover from that original idea.

Foyfoy’s hairstyle is one I drew often when I was a student. I often gave rivals or secondary main characters this hairstyle.

I’m glad I could draw a design like this in an official work.

Page 8

Alles

A character drawn specifically with boobs that a Haruhara who was too embarrassed to draw boobs drew because “I can’t run from boobs!” The reason why I stopped drawing her midway through isn’t because of my embarrassment, but because I wasn’t used to drawing them, so since I never practiced it, I forgot how to.

Princess-chan

TL: This is written with the kanji for “Princess” rather than the katakana for “Hime” as her name is usually written.

She was meant to be a cute, elegant girl, so it shocked me when she immediately ended up as a violent character from her first appearance.

Since I hadn’t decided on a name for her, in the anime her name was listed as ???. I caused trouble for the anime staff.

Page 9

Rudolf

I can’t help but feel that eldery soldiers are cool. When I was doodling for fun, I often drew eldery soldiers.

Himendam

I thought of a development where a cute girl pops out from a nice big suit of armour, so I created the Himendam.

At the time, I thought, “This is a pretty unusual development, it’s great!” but now that I think back on it, it’s actually pretty common.

Slime

The first monster to appear. The first monster you fight should be a slime! Slimes should be blue! I’ve been influenced by Dragon Quest in that way.

I had this child of mine show up as your standard old monster in order to increase the impact of the panda who would show up right after.

Page 10

Minister

While I honestly have no idea why the minister is always standing next to the king, usually that’s the case in RPGs, right?

So I had him stand next to the king in the same way. I feel as though his overall image is influenced by Magical Circle Guru Guru’s Kaya. While I hadn’t realized it while designing him, Kaya’s design affected me unconsciously.

The King

His whole thing was “a super serious old man that makes a stupid face during funny scenes,” but before I realized it, his stupid face became his default expression.

He just may be the nastiest character in the series, considering he wrapped up the entire world in his schemes for his own personal desires.

Mob Characters

The mob characters in my work tend to have this face. I like how they tend to make cutting comments while having non-descript faces.

Page 11

Suit

When Ros’ design went from complicated equipment to this thing, I was shocked at how much easier it was to draw.

I think this thing was what triggered me striving for easiness in my work. Can I blame everything on this thing instead of me?

Just kidding, it’s all my fault.

Fake Foyfoy

If you don’t make careful enough observations, you can’t make a perfect disguise, and you end up in an idiotic costumed-character-like disguise. I wanted to use this plot device a few times more after this, but I didn’t have any chance to use it at all.

Mii-chan

Haruhara happens to have had a stuffed animal for as long as he can remember, and he still has it since he’s never been able to throw it away. I feel as though that stuffed animal served as the model for Mii-chan. In terms of his colour and overall atmosphere.

But my stuffed animal isn’t a pervert like him!

Page 12

Samejima

A delinquent overflowing with manliness. What’s with his hairstyle, I wonder. It’s actually pretty easy to draw.

He just might never lose against anyone so long as he thinks, “There’s no way I can lose.”

Januar

I stuffed in everything my little sister likes into his appearance. “Straight-cut bangs, black-haired, one-eyed, droopy eyes.” But it isn’t as though I went and got her feedback directly so she might just tell me, “He’s not my type at all.”

I chose his personality based on my tastes- “A kind idiot.”

Page 13

Teufel

I thought of a “butler who doesn’t obey orders” around the same time as a “soldier who doesn’t listen to what you say.”

I wanted to have him appear at some point in the future, but then I saw a book called The After-Dinner Mysteries in a book store, which made me think- “M-m-m-m-maybe this book has a butler who doesn’t obey orders as well?!” So I panicked, ran back home, and drew out the head butler’s story.

That’s why the head butler’s story was shoved in out of nowhere.

I read The After-Dinner Mysteries after I wrote in all the butler plot devices I wanted to use, and it was interesting.

At the start, Ros had his three burrs hairstyle so his design was differentiated from Teufel’s, but from Season 2 forwards I struggled with differentiating them.

So Teuf-kun has been going through some small design changes, a bit at a time.

Page 14

Nisepanda

Before Dwango reached out to me, there was a manga I thought up with the plot “a zoo with an easily deceived curator.”

I planned to have a nisepanda appear in that work. The plot device was, “They thought it was a panda, but they were given a mysterious lifeform instead.”

Death Hot Dog-kun

A character that was born during the enthusiastic atmosphere during a meeting with my editor.

We happened to be eating hot dogs during the meeting.

I barely ever have these meetings for my other works, but for Senyu, I’ve been having meetings like this for years. So through sheer enthusiasm and cheer, things like mysterious characters and plot devices end up being created during the meetings.

Page 15

Page 16

Dezember

Mysterious characters in manga often show up with their face cast in shadows. Dezember was born because I thought, “Why not make those shadows real?” But he ended up as a cooler character than I expected, using his shadows to attack and such.

I wanted to base him off of a toy for future plot developments, but I’m really glad I decided to based him off of dice. He became a really good character.

August

I think he’s actually a really nice person.

My editor for Main Quest really liked August, so whenever they got the chance they tried to push for more August.

Avril

A character that’s rather rare for Senyuu - one that just genuinely does bad things for bad reasons. I planned to draw her as really evil so you could tell she was a bad person, but she ended up just casually munching on bread - it really surprised me.

Neun

Back when his only appearance was a silhouette, I just wanted to make people think of that character at first. But now that I really think about the design I thought up for him after - isn’t he pretty cute?

Juli

Just like Foyfoy, I often drew characters with this hairstyle back when I was a student. I usually gave it to trustworthy ally characters. I like his design and personality quite a bit - sorry I haven’t used you much…

Page 17

The Shadows

It’s super cool to be able to split your body for each die face. I also feel like it’s a great character setting that each split has his own personality. A thought just crossed my mind - couldn’t I draw a manga just based around the Dezembers’ home life?

...I guess it would end up like Osomatsu-san...?

Page 18

Zwei

I wanted to use the concept that she was old despite her looks because she was a demon, so I had her dentures fly out - but now that I think about it, there’s other old demon characters, including some characters older than Zwei. So that would make her dentures a result of her own problematic lifestyle, not because of her old age…

Wanna Stab~

A mob among mobs, who ranked high in a popularity poll. I shall now grant him a name - “Phoenix the Rich”.

Mortmome

The stuff on his shoulder does some mysterious things, preventing his body from turning as well when the drill turns.

Page 19

The Great Mage

The cape he wears is very warm. His research assistants gifted him the cape as a present for his birthday sometime in his later years of life, as they were worried about his health. That’s why Alba always wears the cape.

Elf

He’s meant to be someone who knows the secrets of the world - but I can’t count the number of times I considered whether it would be better to just make him a regular old funny character. Good on you for surviving through all that, Elf!

Alf

While I did want there to be a “Elf’s best friend” character, I hadn’t thought about his name at all. So when it came time for him to appear, I really struggled with it. I wanted to make his name like Alba and Ros (Albatross) or Salt and Lake (Salt Lake)…

I may have struggled the most with Alf’s name among all my characters, considering I usually just pick names on instinct.

Page 20

Salt and Lake and Lym

The Hero Academy trio. At first, I planned for Salt to become the Demon Lord, but when I sat down to draw everything out, Lake ended up in that role - it really shocked me.

I had always planned for the story to shift from the adventure setting of Seasons 1 and 2 to the school setting of Season 3. Though the end result is completely different from what I imagined.

Season 3 was really fun to draw since it defied my expectations at every turn.

Page 21

Lyman

I wanted to draw a pathetic older man. I also want his scar to be because of some pathetic reason like “He tripped at a bar.”

Elmer

I reused the soldier design I thought up prior to thinking up Alba and Ros. He’s a little older than Rchi.

Justice

Justice is her ally. In other words, I wanted to make a character where no matter what she does, “I’m doing it, so it’s just!”

But it was too difficult to figure out how to deal with a character like that, so I ended up just making a regular old hotheaded reckless character.

In the end though, she ended up as a character I quite like.

Page 22

Grandpa

A character who loves money. Since I love characters who love money, he’s a character that’s fun to use. It doesn’t actually have to be money, I like characters true to their own desires in general.

Hasegawara-kun

He was originally meant to be a silent character, but I got the urge to make him talk right before I was going to send in the manuscript. Since I wouldn’t make it if I typesetted his speech, I wrote his lines myself. By writing his lines in a way that can only be expressed through handwriting, I made it seem like I planned that from the start.

I made his speech typesetted again after I did that plot where he speaks super eloquently.

Rib Man

He requires no explanation!

It was funny when he moved in the anime.

Page 23

Sochi and Co.

There’s a game called Medabots - in that game, a character called Samantha leads a three-person team called the Screws. I’ve always liked that team since I was a kid. And then, I learned that my editor for Senyu was close with people who were involved with creating the original Medabots. So I had my editor tell them, “I want to put in characters I respect! Please leave it be!”

Please google the Screws that I respect, I respect them.

Lucop

I had vaguely thought up what was going to happen until the end of season 4 of Senyu. But since I’ve done everything I originally thought up, F5 - which I’m drawing now - is all based on plot developments I thought up in +.

-I’ve been saying that for a while now. Lucop as well was just a throwaway joke at first. But as I started moving him around, amazing developments like “Huh? No way… you had a past like this…?” burst out of him, and so he became the current Lucop.

Page 24

Midnight

A travelling doctor. As he treats his patients, he’s also searching for a cure to Mom’s mysterious disease. He’s a completely normal person with no special powers. He wanted Alba to become strong through his own power, not through familial connections.

Cecily

A mother who adores her children. I think it’s pretty amazing that she managed to raise Lake up herself and send him off to school despite being blown off to a mysterious place out of nowhere.

Page 25

Rchimedes the Second and his wife

Rchimedes the Second and his wife. (T/N: Yes, it’s written twice.)

Daromeon-san, who’s currently illustrating Kengan Ashura, was the one to draw the ridiculously beautiful backgrounds in the flashback arc in Season 2 when the Second was imprisoned. When I complained that I couldn’t draw it, he drew me amazingly beautiful.backgrounds.

The Second’s design is based off of a mysterious preconception I have that “Demon Lords should wear raggedy capes.” Mama’s design is based on those soothing, kind moms you often see in anime.

The Mana Maker that he holds in this picture isn’t any particular Mana Maker. I just wanted to let a Mana Maker show up in a group picture.

Page 26

Rchimedes

While he’s tremendously evil, he ended up being quite loved. The Senyu characters I designed near the start wear clothes that I would never design now - I really think it’s amazing. Why did I dress him up in a jumpsuit when I decided to draw a Demon Lord?

On a side note, I imagined that the white part of his clothes peels off smoothly like tape if you pull at it from his neck.

Crea

Since he took back his body from Rchimedes, his height shouldn’t have changed, but for some reason he mysteriously shrunk.

Page 27

Page 28

Originia

In a way, the story of these three marks the start of Senyu. Originia comes from me messing around with the the word “Original”.

Rchimedes' scariest era just might be when he was living alone with Sion in Originia. Even though at first glance, it seems like he was living a peaceful, cheerful life with Sion, though occasionally getting beat up by him. But in reality, just what was he thinking deep inside, as he lived out his life, watching Crea and Sion?

Since I’m the author, I can generally imagine what my characters think just by thinking about it. But when it comes to Rchimedes during this time, all that comes to mind is “Scary scary scary”, and I can’t really think any further in detail.

I’m often asked “What’s Rchimedes’ original eye colour?”, but I think it was probably blue. I feel like I drew his eyes as blue somewhere, but I can’t remember…

Crea’s clothes slung around his shoulders that don’t fall off for whatever reason are actually sewn on - that’s why they don’t fall off. Crea sewed it on himself. While his threadwork is rough, it’s very sturdy. I think it’s wild and cool.

I showed a bit of what Sion did in the main story, but he generally did things like hauling supplies for hunting, looking far in the distance since his eyes are good, and going shopping in far-off cities for the village. Things like that.

Page 29

The two from Season 4 Episode 0

The two from Elf and Alf’s universe. Since Rchimedes’ magic research hasn’t progressed that much, they mostly fight with brute force. Since Crea never had his body stolen, he’s doing well. (He’s not doing well at all.)

Page 30

Creasion

When I was a kid, I read in a manga, “‘Hero’ isn’t something you call yourself - it’s a title you’re granted by others.” I remember thinking, “I see, that certainly makes sense,” and agreeing with it. I also thought, “While you generally think of heroes as being brave and splendid, the person who’s actually adventuring might not be able to stand expectations like that sometimes.”

Creasion may be a character borne out of those feelings of mine.

Ros, please have tons of sweets and smile tons as well.

Page 31

Page 32

Sleepiez

When I thought of the name “Sleepiez” in Senyu+, I didn’t think much of it except “There’s an anti-Alba organization”. I also planned for Boss to be a new character. But after I took the time to think about it properly, the Sleepiez in their current form were born.

Thanks to the current Sleepiez being created, F5 was able to start even though I thought before “I’ve already done everything I want to do with Senyu, I can’t make another proper season.”

If there was no Sleepiez, I feel like + would’ve lazily continued, then at some good cut-off point, I feel like I would’ve been told, “Do you think it’s about time to end it?”

A tenth anniversary for example… it would’ve been a good cut-off point… how scary!

Boss

I can’t write about most of the Sleepiez members just yet, so I’ll be talking about Boss as their representative.

Boss is an alternate universe’s Alba, so despite being Boss, he’s still Alba, and so I want to make him feel like Alba still. But since he’s Boss he can’t retort or make jokes, since it would ruin his dignity. So at the very least, I gave him Alba’s fashion sense to keep his Alba feel. Since his heart stained black and he became evil, his fashion sense naturally became eviller as well, but he’s still Alba, the base is still Alba. He’s wearing clothes that kinda feel like a middle schooler who just discovered fashion for the first time, like he hasn’t managed to go full evil in terms of clothes just yet.

Now I can keep Boss as Boss while still giving him an Alba feel! ...is what I thought, but… does he actually still have that feel…?

Page 33

Alba with Mana

It made me happy that my wish for my protagonist to become the strongest at the end was granted. I thought up a lot of reasons for why only one of his eyes is red, like how it’s because his awakening is still incomplete, etc., but the number one reason is “it’s cool.”

A single red eye is cool, right?! It’s cool right?!

Now that he can use his mana to some extent, he controls his overwhelming mana to hold it back, so his eyes are both back to black now.

Page 34

Page 35

SQ Senyuu.

I had this conversation once-

Y-san from Dwango told me, “I want to take Senyu to a magazine to have it serialized!”

I thought it would be awesome if it actually happened, so I approved it. Then I was like, “If you do take it to a magazine, where would you take it?”

Then Y-san responded, “Well, if you say ‘magazine’, you think Jump.”

And I was like, “Nah nah, Jump would be impossible, ahahaha.”

I never thought that Y-san would actually bring me an offer for serialization in Jump - Y-san was way too capable. Since my personal experience with Jump all started from there, I’m really grateful!

Pages 36-43

Page 44

Afterword

Since I’ve remade Senyu Episode 1 many times before, I thought that I would never remake it again. But then I thought- why don’t I remake Episode 1 at the exact time it was originally released ten years ago, as celebration! So I ended up remaking it again.

But I think it may be my first time remaking it without changing any of the jokes or content.

#senyuu #senyu #senyuu spoilers #haruhara robinson

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delirious-comfort · 4 years

Link

Y’know, usually I start off these reviews by saying that I’m not biased (I think) just because Emma’s my friend but YOU KNOW WHAT? I am. I am super biased. But she earned that bias. So it’s a fair bias. It’s a trust bias. But I did actually read the book and really loved it, so is it still bias? I don’t know. Bias is a weird word now. Whispering Wildwood is @emmasternerradley‘s latest novel. And I wish I could tell you in the most beautiful prose why you should pick up this book and go read it, but I can’t. I don’t have the words. Because I don’t think any words would do it justice. Yeah, I went there, bite me.

So, here’s the official synopsis:

Korinne Woodsorrow is trapped. Not only at her parents lumbermill but also in a village where she’s shunned. Worse than that, she’s stuck sacrificing the life she wants for the person she loves.Next to the lumbermill looms the deadly Whispering Wildwood, with its magical creatures and mystical plants. The wildwood is not to be spoken of and not to be entered.Yet, when disaster strikes, Korinne has to take her brother--who is all muscles and heart but not much brain--with her into the wildwood on a death-defying quest. Guided by a dashing rogue of a pirate and hunted by mysterious monsters, this quest soon goes deeper into a world of fairytales, danger, and wonder. Korinne quickly has to figure out who and what to trust. As well as her new future, her sexuality, and of course - what happens if a quest changes into something completely different while you’re on it?

And... I mean... who wouldn’t want to read that? You know what my favorite part of this book was? When I opened the first page, the first sentence was literally enough to make my heart do that thump-thump thing because ‘hey, something exciting is happening, let’s go!’ It’s a nice feeling. I had it a lot throughout the book.

I love that I can tell that Emma poured her everything into this book. It’s written on every page, with every sentence and every word. It screams at you, grabs you by the throat and gently puts you down. It’s a roller coaster ride. I had two moments in the book where I had to stop reading because it was 4 am and something she described terrified me and I was too scared to read on in the dark, lol.

Emma is very good at writing like-able characters. I love Korinne. Her kindness reminds me of someone else I know. Wonder who that could be. I love that she is so willing to sacrifice everything she is for the people she loves, time and time again. (slight spoiler: I also love that those people don’t let her.) Korinne is the kind of person I’d want beside me if I were too wander into a deadly forest.

Matt(iver) was cute as heck. He’s Korinne’s younger brother and god- he tries so hard. I think maybe one of my favorite things about Matt was when he felt comfortable or perhaps brave enough to tell Korinne about some things he had been hiding. And how he had plans. And how for years, they were protecting each other, which put them both at a stand still in life, I think that’s the right way to describe it. (Until they went into the woods.) I love Matt. Very much. I hope he’ll be very happy with - I won’t say, because SPOILERS. Or maybe he’s dead. Anything is possible. Maybe I”m crying right now. You wouldn’t know.

AND THEN. AND THEN. Vicktoria. Boy oh boy. Look. Do I have a thing for redheads? Yes. Do I also have a thing for the color red in general? Also yes. IS VICKTORIA A REDHEAD WITH A RED COAT? God yes. I’m fine. Promise. I did not slightly lust after a fictional pirate. At all. AT ALL.

I always find it very difficult to say anything about the characters because I feel like anything is a giant spoiler. And they go through this journey that you should experience for yourself whilst reading it.

Look, there’s a lot of caps screaming from me. And I get it. It’s perhaps annoying. But I’m enthusiastic. As you will be once you buy this book. If you haven’t already. I mean it’s only 3,5 bucks. Three dollars and fifty-five cents.

Anyway. Whispering Wildwood. Gorgeous cover. Beautifully written. Has all the elements a fantasy lover would, well, love. I have no idea how anyone could come up with all the magical creatures and mystical plants, but Emma does it and makes it seem super easy, which I know it can’t be. She worked hard for this. And it shows on every page. I’ve already said that, but I mean it.

If I had a rating system, I’d give it 11 out of 10 stars. And it would deserve every last one. Unbiased.

And I sincerely hope that people will go and give it a shot, because ultimately there’s only one person who can convince you to go read it and that’s Emma’s book. And it’s whispering for you to come and get it ;)

#wlw literature #emma sterner radley #wlw fiction #wlw fantasy #writeblr

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misslisterkeepsajournal · 4 years

Text

1831 Thursday 22 September

8 50/.. 2 3/4 LL L L L

Fahrenheit 62 1/2°. now at 9 3/4 and very fine morning - packed portmanteau - downstairs at 10 10/.. - Lady S- [Stuart] came about 10 1/2 as usual - after breakfast dawdled away the morning as usual Had just finished a small sized 1/2 sheet full to Lady S- de R- [Stuart de Rothesay] to mention my plan of going to Paris, and returning about or soon after the 20th. of next month, to spend the winter with V- [Vere] at Hastings, - when packet from Lady S- de R- [Stuart de Rothesay] Highcliff enclosing the letter from V- [Vere] that should have been franked to me by Lord S- [Stuart de Rothesay] ages ago to acknowledge the receipt of the moorgame, and the 1/2 sheet envelope (1 page and ends) being very kind letter from Lady S- de R- [Stuart de Rothesay], and very kindly inviting me to Highcliffe - had begun another 1/2 sheet of thanks and regrets that I could not go there, when it occurred I could go - we all talked it over, and it ended in my writing on a little scrap of paper pushed into the packet after sealed to say that I had time enough for Paris and should be delighted to spend a couple of days at Highcliffe, and would be there on Saturday evening -

All out at 3 1/4 to go to Kew Gardens - in going V- [Vere] thought I should save 20 miles of posting by not going back to London and had best stay here tonight - agreed - stopt at the bookseller's at Richmond - wrote letter to Mrs. Hawkins, to say I was obliged to change my plans, and should not be in London of some days, begged her to take care of my things left behind, and of all that might come for me, and said I would write again when I could name the day for my return - put this letter to 'Mrs. Hawkins 26 Dover Street London' into the post in passing, and counter ordered the horses (to come at 2 tomorrow for Staines) and then drove to the botanic garden at Kew - very fine - many and beautiful rare exotics - near 1 1/2 hour there - about 8 acres of ground - 12 horses, and 12 men - very civil intelligent man shewed us all over -

Lady S- [Stuart] a little tired and, besides, had not time to see the palace - in returning called at the p.o. [post office] - Letter from Lady Gordon, Brighton - one 1/2 sheet full, and 1 page of another - very kind letter, hardly knowing whether to repent or not the not being 'overpersuaded not to go and do my own work myself' without she says at all meaning to reproach her advisors - thinks perhaps she should have thought any decision 'wrongly chosen - certainly entire idleness and want of interest after 'many weeks of the reverse is painful - and I am angry with myself besides, that I am not relieved and happy at the contrast - But the cords have been pulled too tight - they will not go back to their proper state but now are too loose' - begs me to write, and tell my plans - hopes I am not going to Spain......tis plain enough she thinks of me and does not wish to let me slip thro her fingers it is possible that she really cares for me beyond the fancy of my being useful to her?

Home at 6 35/.. - nobody dressed more than to be tidy - dinner at 7 - coffee - talking of Lady Ss [Stuart's] debts and she got low about them tho perhaps a thousand or fifteen hundred would pay Lord S [Stuart] too out at the elbows by his embassy expenses - wrote a large sized 1/2 sheet full to M- [Mariana] which V- [Vere] enclosed with little note from herself to 'Henry Stuart Esquire British Embassy Paris' to ask him to send my letter to the great post in little French enveloppe for 'Madame Madame Lawton Poste restante Paris' left on the table for tomorrow mornings post to London - merely told M- [Mariana] that I had after all staid here over today, and tempted by Lady S- de R-'s [Stuart de Rothesay's] kind invitation and the Isle of Wight etc. should be off for Highcliff tomorrow, and get there to dinner on Saturday - therefore I should not be back in London of some days, and not in Paris before the 1st. week in next month - my chances seemed good of seeing her again in London - would then tell her my plans as far as they might then be settled - mentioned about the ring. but she had best not notice it to my aunt -

All this kept up Lady S- [Stuart] and me till 12 3/4 when came to my room and had written all the above of today at 1 3/4 at which hour Fahrenheit 61°. - very fine day - V [Vere] bought and gave me at Richmond a prayer book she is insensibly? becoming more liante and we are very good friends she delighted at the thought of Hastings poor girl perhaps she will like me better than she thinks unless the Cameron intervenes -

Then wrote to 'Mr. Chevalley 24 Titchbourne Street Haymarket London' 'Miss Lister is much obliged to Mr. Chevalley for his letter and for the trouble he has been so good as take. 'She has been induced, on account of the spread of the cholera morbus, to give up all thought of spending next winter on the continent, and will be obliged to Mr. Chevalley to mention this to the courier whom she spoke to on monday - She told him, she should make a point of his going behind the carriage when required, to which he seemed so unwilling to agree, that she had, at any rate, made up her mind not to engage him Richmond park. 22 September 1831.' - Took this down stairs and left it for Ward to see and send to the post between 7 and 8 in the morning -

Reference: SH:7/ML/E/14/0119 - SH:7/ML/E/14/0120

#anne lister #anne lister code breaker #gentleman jack #1831 #richmond park #vere hobart

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Thursday 23 July 1835

6 50

12 35

no kiss fine morning F62° at 7 35 am at which hour went down to Charles H- they staid till dark last night before they could spring the arch of the old bridge - Mark’s 2 carts there this morning - took Mawson’s 3 men from the dry bridge opposite the house and set them to make a gap for the carts at the top of the Wheat field (the stone teamed down at the top of the wood (in the field) in the hollow) - then took the 3 men down to the bridge to get it up and get the stuff out of the brook - Long talk there to John Oates- he would not let Holdsworth go on with his colliery without being well paid for he had bought Spiggs coal to loose other coal that he had - told John to consider what he thought I should ask for the Loose - but the water was worth more to me than all the coal - yes! said J.O. that it is - he seems quite sure that Holdsworth cannot beat me either in chancery or any other court, but thinks he will be for law however bigly he may talk - told J.O. of Holt’s declining to advise me in this matter - came in at 9 ¼ - breakfast at 9 ½ - between 10 and 11 had Messrs. Craven solicitor and George Whitley with the subscription list for the support of the expense of the old church - £113.10.0 already subscribed I put Jeremiah Lister Esquire £3, and Miss Lister (Shibden hall) £2 and wished the gentlemen success - they thought they should make up what wanted - £200 or £230 if the church was to be cleaned - the subscription only for one year - government expected to do something - I gently mentioned politics, and hoped we should convert Mr George W. he an arrant yellow - but all passed off good humouredly - Mr Craven a staunch blue - out with A- to cut roses in the walk at 11 50 - left her and went to the brook-bridge and did not come in till 1 ¼ - sent Charles and James H- and Carter this afternoon to help the old Charles H- to mow his acre field - He did not ask me, and seemed much obliged by my offering - behaved very well about it - pleased when the people behave handsomely - from 1 ½ to 4 (A- off about 3 on the pony to Cliff hill while I was talking to Marian) about ½ hour with Marian downstairs and wrote out the whole of the last 3 pages and so far of this page - out from 4 to 6 10 - at Hall bridge digging and the bridge over the brook - had Mawson there - told him to set out a bit of new brook course to takeoff the great bend near Walsh’s bit of land - M- said the digging and throwing into the old course close by should be 4 ½ a yard and the wearing walling up the sides and new cut should be 6d. per yard - told him also to reset the bridge over the brook at the end of my walk, and to examine the whole of the wearing of the brook and repair what wanted repairing - dinner at 6 30 - curds and strawberries and ¾ bottle of cowslip wine and 2 cups of coffee not comfortable together - stomach uneasy till going to bed - had the sexton of the old church at 8 - brought me plan of the church and a little book of text explanatory of the plan and giving the inscriptions on the monuments for all which asked 20/. not too much - asked him to speak to Mr Herbert Mitchell about the pew he occupies belonging to Staups and .:. to me - the sexton thought the rent should be 50/. a year - very well - told him to settle this for me - he receives pew rents for Mrs Prescott and some others and has 5p.c. on the amount - said I would think about insinuating that I meant him to collect my pew rents - ½ hour with my aunt till 10 ¼ - A- looking over Watsons’ and Wright’s and Crabtree’s history of Halifax - very fine day F63 ½° now at 10 25 - making out rent roll for next Xmas till 10 55 while A- was reading as above

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skgway · 4 years

Text

1829 Jan., Tues. 6

5 3/4

10 1/4

At my desk at 7 20/60, having been 1/4 hour further and finally preparing for M– [Mariana]

“Thank you, Sibbella,” (letter wrote on Sunday) for your 1st letter this year (which I received this morning) and for your so kindly wishing me to be happier every succeeding year, than the last – Perhaps my best hope is, that the circumstances, ‘that caused you unspeakable misery have been those that have led you step by step to the prospect’ of all the good at present in your view –

For the last 8 or 9 years of my life, I have had nothing more sincerely at heart, than your happiness – This gained, much is done towards my own – Not to be easily reconciled to any plan that really and securely promotes your welfare, would argue a degree of selfishness of which I should be ashamed – While your scheme is merely in theory, we may possibly differ in opinion; – But the moment I see it put in practice, and realizing your hopes rather than my fears, I shall be reconciled, and satisfied –

The reasonable persuasion that we are ‘spending a life of usefulness,’ will do much to make us contented in any case – To a mind like yours, is it not half of what is requisite to make you happy? I do not attempt to guess at what you may possibly allude to – You will tell me when we meet; and I shall endeavor to be patient” –

Account of her health better than I should dared to expect – No doubt Mr. Long will on every account do his best –

“I only wish, there was not such a perpetual prolongation of the time required. But the curtain seems a little drawn aside by the following sentence, ‘he shakes his head, and says, you never will see Paris’ – I cannot ‘calculate his influence – If it be paramount, I hope it is for good”

. . . . think the climate of Paris mistaken – My aunt after 2 1/2 years residence cured of a host of complaints that hourly threatened her life in England –

“I shall not be in town till next month (I have delayed my return, and shall continue to delay it, by every possible excuse, as long as I can), and, by the time you reached your journey’s end, the fine weather would be awaiting us – But may you decide according to the wishes, and advice of those best able to advise; and heaven prosper the event!

I shall be delighted to have you with me, disappointed to leave you behind, but perfectly reconciled, and perfectly satisfied to be thus disappointed, if it be for your good – What gives me greatest pleasure, is your occasionally having your uncle with you – I do not quite understand your correspondence being promised for you by another, without your leave; but I am persuaded, it will give so much pleasure to your correspondent. ‘Tis possible, your time might not be better employed –

‘I have many surprising things to tell you’ – Would that you had that one thing to tell me which occurs to me at this moment! Would that your life of usefulness were on behalf of that one for whom I am interested on your account! I am more than half persuaded, you do not yet know me well enough to be aware how deeply I am anxious for all events to work together for your good –

‘Yes! I do guess what passed in your mind, but think not of it’ – I will endeavor to take your advice, but do not promise more – I trust, however, that these pages will not leave upon your mind any impression which is not as cheerful, as you yourself would have it –

No! No! Sibbella, it shall not be I who throw one momentary shade across the brightness of your prospect, be that prospect what it may – But may its brightness be no fictitious glare that, like the ignis fatuus, lures but to deceive! If your plan be good and true, God speed!

Yet why, Sibbella, this sentence? ‘I feel assured you will not like this plan, but I may in time reconcile you to it’ – I am more anxious about you, than you think; and it will be a comfort to me to see you” –

Glad she approves my plan of being in the same house with her – Shall not care 2d [pence] about having a fire in my bedroom –

“Tell me, if you think it ‘no joke’ to be kept 1 month longer under Mr. Long’s care, what do you think it to be ket 3 months longer, with the prospect of still delay upon delay? Is it Mr. Long’s opinion, that you can live entirely in London, or that the climate of Mull, or Edinburgh, or any part of Great Britain where you can conveniently settle, is better than that of Paris?

It grieves me to hear of your coughing so much ...... Long may you have ‘the thanks and blessings of all sides!’ But what is love that thus amuses some, bewilders most, and recompenses few? How often ‘tis an idle dream, an empty sound, a charm that worse than lulls to sleep! In such a case, how difficult to give advice, how difficult to take it!

But you will think the air of Shibden makes me prosey – Perhaps you may think right – Or these may be some lurking ever that Mr. Long’s infallible should remove – I hope to see you in about a month – May your health be better and your plan be good, and may this year, and every succeeding year be happier than the last!”

Mention expecting M– [Mariana] a today for a week or 10 days – If I send a box or 2 of books has Miss McL– [MacLean] room for them? Mention the account of my aunt and her getting about –

“It will be a sad disappointment to her, if you do not return with me – But may you do what is best! My own opinions shall never be selfishly opposed to yours, on any subject – I never think of you but to wish your happiness, and am always, Sibbella, very faithfully and affectionately yours A[nne] L[ister]”

At 8 25/60 sent off by Jno [John] my letter (vide yesterday and Sunday) to “Madame Madame Barlow, Rue des Champs Elysees, No [number] 6, Paris” and my letter as above to “Miss Maclean of Coll, 13 Nottingham Terrace, New Road, London” –

Vide Miss McL– [MacLean]’s letter received on Sunday

“Your last has left a deep impression on my mind almost of sadness – You said nothing I can assure you in your 2nd last that caused the slightest irritation of feeling – You know I have long, long considered myself consumptive – And do you suppose, I could feel any vexation that others should know it . . . . . . Then banish the thought from your mind, – And do not say I write on ‘relentless’ –

Yes! I do guess what passed in your mind, but think not of it – I have many surprising things to tell you when we meet – Most singular have the circumstances of the last year of my life been, and perhaps the very events that caused me unspeakable misery have been those that have led me step by step to the prospect of spending a life (if I live) of usefulness –

Not less, than in former years tho’ far different – But is still only in imagination I feel assured you will not like this plan, but I may in time reconcile you to it – If ever I put it in practice, which does not altogether depend on me” –

Her cough bad – Got cold from the hot rooms of her friends, and could not refuse the pressing invitations – Always gets cold at Lady Stuart’s – Lady S– [Stuart] “is I may almost say, an inveterate enemy to Mr. Long” yet said on seeing her last “well, you really are looking much better” –

Thought her spirits so good she must be “feigning”

“but I really feel so free from oppression in my chest, and that heavy feeling in my side quite gone, it has given me an indescribable cheering feel” –

All her friends raise objections to her going before for

“3 months yet, they say it will be doing both myself and Mr. Long injustice at such a season to go. He shakes his head, and says, ‘you never will see Paris’ – After a little discussion he says, ‘Well, in 3 months you may go’” –

Rides out with him every day in his open carriage – He says it is absolutely necessary for her health, and she receives much benefit from it –

“The most affectionate brother could not be more careful of me. I am engaged in a love affair. All parties have put the concern into my hands which is rather a bother, tho sometimes amuses me most exceedingly. I have as yet the thanks and blessings of all sides, but how it will end it is yet impossible for me to say –

Assure yourself I am going on well, but slowly . . . . I wrote to Miss Hudson a few days ago – Mr. Long without my leave made a promise that I should”

Vide my aunt’s letter received on Sunday, received my letter and enclosure on the 29th ultimo – Quite well – Had been to call on Mrs. B– [Barlow] “and walked up all except the last flight of steps to her apartment” and on the 28th returned “accompanied by my kind friend Mrs. B– [Barlow] I went to the ambassador’s chapel, and received the sacrament” –

Thinks I shall not be back before February – And that M– [Mariana] has “done well to make up the breach between her parent and friend, it will be a satisfaction to herself” – Sure of liking Miss McL– [MacLean]

“I only wish any feelings of partiality she may possibly have for myself, may not be entirely on your account – As to how long, or how short a time we may remain here, circumstances must determine – I shall, I hope, never wish to do anything, that may not be advisable at the time – another year or 2, is a long time to look forward” ..... –

Wrote all the above of today, and had just done at 9 10/60 – Breakfast at 9 20/60 in 20 minutes – Went out at 10 – Met Throp in the road near the entrance gate) returning from planting 4 single trees (elms) in Charles H– [Howarth]’s field opposite to Pump and 2 ditto (beeches) in Jno [John O– [Oates] field opposite Dove house –

Went with him then planted 2 single sycamores in the Allen Car, and then 4 beeches at the top of the wheat or wood field behind the barn – Then about 11 3/4 set off to H–x [Halifax] to meet M– [Mariana] stopt by the way and paid for my 2 pair shoes at Booth’s – Ordered the trespass act then called at Whitleys, Mr. Briggs’s office – Not in – Would send John –

Then went to Mr. Parker’s office – Should like to know how soon the church money could be paid – would be a great convenience to have it by the 10th instant – This could not be Mr. P– [Parker] thought but might get it soon – Would lend me ￡700 (had it in the bank) till I got paid the church money – Much obliged – Might perhaps avail myself of the offer having a considerable sum to pay –

Surprised to hear the coal bought of Wilkinson – The agreement signed on Friday by Holt – Brought it back with me – Hurried off to the Pineapple – There at 12 1/2 by the church – The mail should have arrived at 12 20/60 – Did not arrive till 12 40/60 – The man at Bradford would not have the horses sharpened and they had 8 or 9 men to help them up one or 2 of the hills –

M– [Mariana] arrived – Walked home – She had been up all last night and had nothing to eat this morning – Had cold mutton and a glass of wine and went out with me a little before 2 – Along the walk in the fields M– [Mariana] planted 3 beeches near the brook in Lower brook Ing opposite Wellroyde.

Then went to Wellroyde brow wood where the wallers are preparing for planting a quickwood fence, then got it the new Northowram road sauntered past upper brea, then returned by Goldey and Benjamin’s B– [Bottomley?]’s and came in at 4 40/60 –

Sat talking – Dressed – Dinner at 6 20/60 – My father and Marian came between 7 & 8 – Came upstairs at 8 20/60 – Looked over the coal agreement – To pay ￡40 per dayswork ￡100 down on excecuting the purchase 2 February next – Then looked at the list of proposed rents brought by Jno [John] from Mr. Briggs – Leaving out the advice on Marsh, upper place, and nearly the whole advice on Lower place, should gain by Mr. B– [Briggs]’s valuation – seventy six pounds a year.

Went down to coffee at 9 – M– [Mariana] and I came up again at 9 1/4 – Wrote the last 7 lines – The ground white this morning but more with frost (tho’ not severe) then snow – Very fine winter’s day –

𝜋 [Pi - Mariana] very fond of me I am persuaded. Sitting after dinner explained why Steph thinks of leaving York. A profound secret even to the family. No field for his talenn [talent] o[r] variety of practice. The rich pay ill and the poor cannot afford to pay and he lives at great expense –

Major and Mrs. Bailey parted. He could live with her no longer and left her in Paris recently – She seems almost even now an abandoned, headstrong criminal woman – He to allow her ￡210 per annum –

Told M– [Mariana] I had no fire at night – Got up between 5 & 6, and lighted my fire then – Began on this plan with M– [Mariana]. She looks pale and thin – Rest will do her good –

#anne lister #anne lister code breaker #mariana lawton #Shibden Hall 1829 #Sibella MacLean

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hostgalli19 · 4 years

Text

The Cannibal’s Book Collection - Chapter 1: Distracted

Chapter Summary: Clarice was distracted and was constantly checking her phone and watch, Hannibal knew she wasn't intentionally trying to be rude. It was concerning that she had been sent to see him when she was obviously otherwise occupied and not up to talking today

Note: Hello everyone, this is my newest story. I've recently gotten into Hannibal though have just watched Silence of the Lambs. I do know a bit about other things though mostly through watching YouTube videos.

This story mostly focuses on Hannibal and Clarice's friendship as there don't seem to be many stories about that.

Length: 1,782 words (3 pages)

Tag List: @wilfordwarfstacheisbae, @matt10nt, @fuckmethomasshelby, @lamb-and-knife

Link to Ao3

Date: 10/05/20 – 11/05/20 Time: 12:57 pm – 1:56 am

Hannibal was concerned when Clarice visited him clearly distracted, she kept checking her watch or phone like she was in a rush or expecting a call. She wouldn't have normally been so rude but Hannibal could tell she wasn't doing it intentionally. She was just distracted. It was concerning to think Jack had sent Clarice to see him when it was obvious that she wasn't up for it.

Clarice had positioned herself in such a way that her face couldn't be clearly seen by the cameras. Hannibal had noticed that Clarice seemed to be more open with him, she looked like nothing was wrong when she was around others. Clarice stiffened ever to slightly when she heard someone walking down the hall but soon relaxed like nothing was wrong. Hannibal scowled when he saw Chilton.

He had no idea what the sorry excuse for a doctor was doing here. He had agreed to let Clarice talk to Hannibal on her own without him being there as she had found Hannibal was more closed off when the Doctor 'sat in' on their meetings. Hannibal could tell Clarice was uncomfortable when Chilton walked behind her.

"Is there something you need Chilton?" Clarice questioned, not turning to look at the 'Doctor', instead choosing to star at Hannibal's chest as her hands tighten in her lap. Hannibal could tell she was very uncomfortable with having someone that close to her but was trying to appear relaxed and unbothered by the contact to Chilton who wouldn't be able to tell he was making someone uncomfortable if he was hit over the head with a brick.

Clarice had changed a great deal since she had first visited him all those years ago for help with Buffalo Bill. She wasn't a scared little rookie who'd Jack Crawford had thrown to the wolves to get information from him about the case but a confident woman who could look after herself and wasn't afraid to speak her mind and didn't take BS from anyone. Hannibal greatly enjoyed her visits.

She was one of the few people who treated him with respect.

"I just come to make you're alright and to see what was taking so long. One of the guards said you looked nerves on the camera," Chilton answered, rubbing his thumb over Clarice's shoulder, near her neck, either not noticing or ignoring how uncomfortable he was making her. Hannibal could Clarice was highly uncomforted by the other man's actions and wasn't surprised when Clarice pushed her chair back.

Preventing their conversations from being used against Hannibal in one of his sessions with the slimy man.

"I am perfectly fine Chilton. This will take a long as I deem necessary. Now kindly leave. I can't very well ask my questions with you around now can I as Dr Lector may not answer truthfully with you around," Clarice snapped, her dislike of the man clear. Chilton nodded and scurried away though not before noting that fact Clarice had no problem turning her back to Hannibal.

Something no one in their right mind would do.

Clarice picked up the glass of water she had with her and started to pace in front of Hannibal's cell. He stayed quiet, knowing she was thinking not to disturb her. It was clear she was planning something, what exactly Hannibal didn't know. He was confused when she seemly over nothing and dropped the glass she was holding on the voice recorder Chilton had set up in order to record audio dor the camera footage.

Her startled help got the attention of James and Jack, she had landed on top of the table, managing to push herself up and not slip on the water. Chilton wasn't pleased and yelled at her. James, Jack and Barney asked Clarice if she was alright and completely ignoring Chilton. They had gotten to know her quite well since the Buffalo Bill case.

It was fascinating to watch how much she changed over the years, she obviously cared about Hannibal and visited him even when his help wasn't needed on a case. She respected him and in turn, he respected her. Clarice was the only one who Hannibal would talk to as the FBI had learned after Paul Kressler tried to ruin her career.

The guards and nurses knew how much the FBI needed Hannibal's help with cases. He refused to talk to anyone but Clarice. They knew it was because she was the who respected him and wasn't rude. The FBI tried to bring in another girl who looked like Clarice, hoping Hannibal wouldn't notice the difference. He most certainly had noticed. He had gotten to know Clarice very well.

The poor girl M had no idea why the FBI had asked her to try and fool Hannibal Lector. She knew there was no way he would be fooled. She was practicing to be an undercover field agent. She had been scared the first time she had gone to see Hannibal though who wouldn't. The man was terrifying and M had heard stories from other agents about the things he had done.

She had been pleasantly surprised when the guards James and Jack had given her some tips. M could tell they cared about Ms Starling and weren't happy about what the FBI was trying to do, but they weren't upset her. Hannibal had immediately know M wasn't Clarice and what the FBI had been planning. He had listened patiently as she explained she was a trainee undercover field agent.

Hannibal coached her on how to lie better. The FBI had given her some training on how to make Hannibal believe she was Claire but their training wasn't truly helpful. James, Jack, Barney and of course Hannibal were the ones who really helped her. She had known the man wasn't going to believe she was Clarice but somehow didn't mind. He knew her too well to be fooled.

M helped Hannibal make his point to the FBI. It was ridiculously easy to twist their arm and show them that they would be very screwed without Hannibal's help. He did give her some information to make the FBI think their plan was working and so Clarice would have something when she did eventually get her job back

The FBI eventually got the point and brought Clarice back. Clarice and M went out for lunch and laughed at the FBI's expense when M filled her in on everything that had happened since she lost her job. They wouldn't be getting rid of her any time soon, not if they didn't want the public to know how they treated women and one of their top agents.

Hannibal Lector was highly respected in his field even though he had lost his licence. He still had a lot of influence.

"It was an accident, Chilton. I tripped. It's not like I meant to dump water that thing, it's not my fault you can't get another," Clarice growled, glaring at Chilton. James, Jack and Barney had to stop themselves from laughing at her subtle big at Chilton being a penny-pinching bastard. They certainly had enough money to get a proper setup but Chilton insisted on using the tape recorder to get audio.

James, Jack and Barney Clarice spilling the water on the tape recorder wasn't an accident. It seemed she wanted to talk to Hannibal without anyone listening in. Even though she looked perfectly put together there was something not... right about her. Hannibal had notice, of course, he would. He was the only one she felt truly comfortable with. Sometimes Clarice would come to talk to Hannibal where there were no ongoing cases.

They suspected she needed someone to talk to. James, Jack and Barney had come to a silent agreement years ago that they would call Clarice when Hannibal had a bad session with Chilton, even if the drugs didn't last for very long they knew Hannibal was comforted by having Clarice there. She, however, didn't speak to him for three weeks after finding out he had played her a little

He had been miserable. Barney had to resort to calling Clarice and explained that while yes, Hannibal had been his reaction to the drugs up a little, it what she had seen wasn't far from what Hannibal was actually like after Chilton drugged him. It didn't last for very long and wore off pretty quickly not that Chilton knew of course. Having her there, however, was a comfort.

Hannibal apologized when Clarice next visited. Clarice had forgiven him but made it clear that he wasn't to do that again. Clarice was doing more for Hannibal then Chilton ever had which was saying something. Clarice made it clear she hadn't appreciated Hannibal playing her. He was improving and had come to realise that not everyone was going to let him get away with it.

Clarice did forgive him but made it clear not to do something like that again. Clarice was doing more for Hannibal then Chilton was. She made it perfectly clear that she didn't appreciate Hannibal playing her and definitely would stop visiting until he apologized. He was improving and had come to realise that not everyone was going to let him get away with it. There were consequences for his actions.

Hannibal had, over the years learned that Clarice wouldn't take any ish from him, he very rarely tried to trick her unless they were playing a game. It only happened when Hannibal was bored and needed a distraction. Clarice and Hannibal with the help of James, Jack and Barney managed to play several games. Mostly using the holes at the bottom of Hannibal's cell.

Sometimes James, Jack or one of the other guards would sit with their back against the glass holding the phone for some of the more complicated games. It only happened when Chilton was away and it was always whipped from the cameras when they were done. Chilton had no idea what was happening while he was away.

Note: Thank you for reading. Please like and re blog. If you have any suggestions for a better name for the other all story please let me know.

#Hannibal Lector #silence of the lambs #Clarice Starling #my ao3 Hannibal stories

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

You’re still the smartest girl I know; John Deacon x daughter teen reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys wow my final crunch time at college has kept me REALLY busy with all these final projects that I need to do, so my thanksgiving break is gonna be INSANE with doing all this work that I need to do BUT the good news is is that I had this request done in my downtime that I had, so to the anon who requested this awhile back, I’m SOOO SORRY for getting it to you so late but I hope you love it either way.

I also have updates on a few of my series so I may end up making a post about my writing updates and what all I plan to work on to try and get more organized with all that I have to do. So I’ve got two updates for you guys so I hope you all like this fic.

Warnings: school, mild angst, failing school, FLUFF, Dad!Deacy (cause let’s face it its a warning because he’s FREAKIN ADORABLE!!!) and my unknown knowledge of how Catholic schools work, so if I’m wrong about something, PLEASE send me a comment or an inbox to correct it.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@queendeakyy

@platawnic

@kairosfreddie

___________________________________________________________

I just don’t get it. My dad graduated with 8 GCE O level and 3 A level in electronics, he’s designed his own amp, and helps with not only the family finances but the band finances too. He’s the smartest guy I know and I share half of his genius, or at least I should.

I needed to sustain at least a 3.50 average to stay in my current Catholic secondary school but with my failing classes I’m barely at a 2.50. It’s not that I don’t try to do the work I do the homework and attend the lectures, it’s just that some of my classes like Geometry and Ancient religions, the teachers make the assignments so confusing.

Even when I would write the papers, they always found something to pick at and I end up with either C’s or even D’s on my papers, even when I would stay up all night skimming through book after book to get the required aspects they ask for. Also their quizzes and exams are so unfair, they would tell us this or that would be on the test, but by the time the test came around, absolutely NONE of the stuff they said would be on it, is on it. Hell they’ve put things down that we haven’t even learned yet.

It was currently Fall break and I spending some time with my family for the holiday trying to get my mind off of school. I was watching over my brothers rough house in the backyard. God they were so lucky they don’t have to deal with the harsh school life just yet.

“So (y/n) how’s school going love?” I heard my mum say. I quickly looked up at her and said quickly.

“School’s fine.” She looked at me skeptically.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah mum, everything’s fine.” Then fortunately saved by the bell, the doorbell rang and I immediately shot up and said. “I’ll get it!” I quickly raced to the front door and cracked it open. And there at the door was the mail carrier. He took out of his bag our mail for the day and he said.

“Here’s your mail ma’am.”

“Thanks Gardner, have a good day.” I said. He nodded and walked off the curb and continued down the road with his route. I closed the door and skimmed through the mail. Most of it was bills, some Queen stuff for dad to sign and look over, but then there was a letter from the school sent to me. At this point my heart was racing.

“Who was that?” Oh shit dad. I turned around to see him coming down the stairs holding my baby sister who had probably just woken up from her nap.

“Oh just the mail. Mostly bills this time, but then again what else is new. And there’s some Queen stuff for you to look over dad.” I handed him most of the mail but kept the letter from London University for me.

“Well what’s that?”

“What? Oh this oh it’s just junk mail. Something about 20% interest rate on life insurance from a different company. Damn things are just scams anyway. I’ll shred it dad.” I walked up and kissed his cheek then my baby sister before racing upstairs.

As soon as I reached my room, I closed the door and locked it and leaned against it in a panic. Nervously I opened up the envelope and it read the worst thing I could imagine.

To Miss (Y/n) (M/n) Deacon,

It has come to our attention of your low grades. It is required that your parents come in for a meeting with the Headmaster in regards to your low grades.

At that point my mind went blank as I ignored all that the letter said. Tears formed in my eyes. Goddamnit why did they send this letter? Cause first comes the letter, then the phone calls will follow. I’ve tried so hard to keep my struggles in school away from my parents because I didn’t want them to get involved, that all I needed to do was try better since that’s all teachers seem to push onto me, if not then I’ll make it up in summer school.

I just wanted to prove that I was as smart as my dad is.

So I hide the letter in the folds of my diary knowing that my parents don’t go snooping around it and putting it in the secret place where I know my snoopy brothers can’t get to it (thank god I change places every week) and tried to forget about it. It was then a knock was heard at my door.

“(Y/n)? Poppet is everything okay in there?”

“Uhh—yeah dad everything’s fine.”

“Then why is your door locked?”

“I’m changing clothes dad, I’m meeting Stacy and Courtney for a movie later tonight.” There was a brief moment of silence before he said.

“Alright but at least unlock it. We’ve talked about this before, plus your brothers think girls are gross so I doubt they’d pop in on their sister changing.”

“Okay dad sorry.” Thank god he bought it. I then went over to my phone and tried to make my lie seem real as I called both Stacy and Courtney to meet me at the theater in 15min.

Thankfully since it was the weekend, my parents let me go out later than usual so long as I was back before ten. My dad gave me some money for the tickets and food and we kissed each other goodbye and I drove off to the theater.

I soon met my two best friends and we decided to just walk around the mall instead going to see a movie. It was there I told the girls everything. As they were trying on new stuff from a new store called The Gap, I said to them.

“What am I gonna do girls?”

“Well you know me girl, if I were you I’d just come clean.” Said Courtney.

“Are you crazy?! No way can she tell them about this. Okay chick this is what you do. You answer any calls the school makes and come up with any and every excuse you’ve got.” Stacy said as she peeked over her changing room into Courtney’s.

“Stace, no offense but your parents may buy into that but I’ve met her mum and dad and they aren’t stupid like yours are.”

“Yeah you got a point. Hell I could go to prison for murder and my parents wouldn’t care.”

“Guys hello! Back to me.” I begged.

“Sorry. Well looks like your screwed chickadee.”

“Oh gee thanks Stace.”

“Look (y/n). All I can tell you is that you won’t be able to hide this forever. Just—show them the note and tell them the truth. I’m sure they’ll understand if you explain it to them. And I can back you up about Mr. Crowley. Guy’s a right up arsehole if you ask me. Gave me -20 points because I used the wrong citation for the Bibliography page. And it was only one source that was labeled wrong” Said Courtney.

“Yeah and our Geometry teacher Miss. Ringo, I can barely understand what she’s saying with that thick Dutch accent of hers. Gave me a 30% on our last exam.”

“That’s because all you did was doodle and call her an old bat.” I said bluntly.

“Oh yeah. But oh man you should’ve seen the look on her face on the last homework assignment we had.”

“I don’t even wanna know.” Said Courtney.

“Trust me you don’t.” I vouched.

“Hey come on, let’s forget about school, get you to try on some clothes. We’ll go to the food court and get your mind off of things. Sound good?” Stacy said as she came out wearing a new jean jacket with suspenders underneath. I nodded and said with a smile.

“Thanks guys, you’re the best friends I could ask for.”

“Hey divas in diapers remember? The three musketeers. The triple threat angelz.”

“With a Z because…..”

“We’re bad bitches!” we all exclaimed as we held our right hands out in a fist touching each other’s in a triangle shape. And so that’s how it was, the girls helped me get my mind off of the letter and the stress of school with a good Girl’s day out.

A couple days later I was back in school in my Ancient Religions class. Mr. Crowley of course barely allowed any time for me to fully write down what he had on the board because he immediately went to the next thing. He never once asked if anyone had any questions and if someone stopped him, he’d slam the ruler down on the student’s desk and either ask them to meet him after class, or just give them detention.

“Alright students; I’m going to give you your final assignment for the semester for you to do just before winter break.” Everyone groaned. He had just give us a 10 page paper on how Christianity as a whole effected the Global conquest, and now he’s giving us another essay to do. “Hey, hey, hey, hey! No complaints you miscreants!”

But just before he could continue, the intercom beeped above us.

“Mr. Crowley?”

“Yes?” he said annoyedly.

“Will you please send Miss. Deacon into the office.”

“She’s on her way.”

“Thank you.”

“(Y/n) Deacon.” At that point everyone but Courtney all made the ‘oooo busted’ vocals. I flipped them off as Mr. Crowley made me my hall pass so that I wouldn’t get caught by a teacher patrolling the halls. I grabbed my bag and left the classroom.

I walked down the second floor staircase, down to the main level and turned towards the entrance where the main office was. I walked in and I said.

“I’m (Y/n) Deacon. I was told to come here from Mr. Crowley’s class.” The receptionist said.

“Ahh yes Miss. Deacon. The Headmaster would like to speak with you.” Oh shit. This is probably about that letter. I swallowed nervously and hung my bag further up my shoulder and walked down the corridor towards the Headmaster’s office. It felt like the walkway was getting longer as I walked towards that dreaded office room, that was until finally I arrived at it.

Slowly I reached up and knocked on it. There was a brief period of silence before a low voice said.

“Come in.” I opened the door and there standing at the grand desk was Headmaster Byron. He was a fairly older man (if I had to make a guess I’d say currently around Miami’s age). He was a bit—you now stout shape wise. He was going bald and he wore glasses over his hazel eyes. “Ahh Miss. Deacon please sit down.” I walked in and nervously sat down at the chair in front of me.

“You—wanted to see me sir?”

“Yes. I’ve called you down here regarding a letter I had sent over the fall break. I expected to hear a call from your parents but I hadn’t heard anything back from them. Is there a problem?” Oh god what do I say to him?

“Well I—I guess the mail service was just a little slow. Because we haven’t received the letter just yet.”

“Hmm well that’s unusual. Usually the mail service is properly on time. I mean at least we’re more organized than the American system at least to my knowledge.”

“Yeah guess they must’ve lost it.” I said nervously fiddling with my fingers, anxiously picking at my nails.

“In that case; I can send you with another copy of the letter. But if I don’t hear anything within 24hours expect the first phone call.” I nodded as he handed me the same letter that I had gotten in the mail over the break. I thanked him and quickly headed out of the office. On my way back to class I ripped the letter up into as many pieces as I could before discarding it into the nearest bin and returned to class like nothing happened.

After school I was in my room trying to make sense of the math homework I had to deal with and that’s when a knock was heard at my open door. I looked up and there stood my mum.

“Hey love. So you’re dad’s working late tonight with the band so I’m ordering a pizza for dinner. What would you like on yours?”

“Get me a full cheese and my toppings are sausage and pepperoni.”

“You got it. Doing homework?” I nodded solemnly. “Which class is it for?”

“Geometry.”

“Oh yeah, I remember taking that class. Hardest thing I ever knew. In fact all math was difficult for me. Thank god for your dad though, he was always better at finances than I was. That’s how we met as a matter of fact, I was struggling with my Algebra homework and he offered to help me since we were in the same class together.” Lucky her that she at least had dad to help her, meanwhile I on the other hand had absolutely no one to help me.

Everyone was in it for themselves, not even the teacher was willing to give us tutoring sessions if we didn’t get any of the stuff taught in class. He just expected us to memorize and do everything correctly.

“Say, speaking of geometry did you get the midterm results back yet?” Oh god that’s right. Dad actually skipped out on Queen rehearsals to help tutor me for the upcoming fall midterm exam.

Unfortunately for all that hard work, nothing we had practiced was on the midterm, half the stuff was gibberish to me so I just wrote random answers that I could and I ended up with an F.

“He uhh—he got super busy grading our other stuff that he didn’t have time to look over the midterms. But he said hopefully in the next week or two he’ll get to it.”

“Are you sure?” I nodded and she looked at me skeptically.

“Okay, if you say so. I’ll call you when dinner arrives okay?”

“Sounds good mum. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She kissed the top of my head and left my room. I turned away and tossed my books and homework off my bed and buried my face into my bedsheets and softly began to cry.

Why? Why does this have to happen to me?! Why can’t I just get the damn work? Why do I have to be such a fucking idiot!?!?

Days passed and I still didn’t have the heart to tell my parents that I was failing school. And when the phone started ringing I tried to make an effort to try and answer it before they did, fearing that it was the school.

Some calls it was to which I would make excuses for the school and then tell my mum and dad that it was just boring telemarketers trying to sell us stuff. Other times it’d be Uncle Freddie or uncle Roger calling for Deacy about some Queen business stuff (and of course I chatted with them, I’ve known them ever since I was a baby, plus Freddie was my godfather—or I should say fairy godmother).

But it wasn’t until one day when I came home from an afterschool football game Stacy and Courtney invited me to, that I would pay dearly for the lie that I had been trying to keep.

“Yeah I know and when Bobby finally scored the winning goal I swear it was a one and a million shot he got that!” Stacy exclaimed as we got out of her car and walked up my driveway before stopping at the gate.

“I tell you you’ve got one lucky man right there Stace. Your boy’s gonna go far in football.” Said Courtney.

“All I know is that for the first time in decades our school is finally in the playoffs and that we might have a shot of winning the district championship since 1971.” I said.

“Well we definitely have the best team to get us there. Not to mention the cutest.” Courtney said before snickering towards the end.

“I’ll drink to that.” I said taking a shot of my water.

“(Y/n). Can you come in here please?” I looked up to see my dad standing there by the door. His arms crossed over his chest and I could tell something was wrong.

“Yeah dad I’ll be right there. See you girls Monday then?”

“We’ll save you a seat at the cafeteria before homeroom.” The girls then walked back to the car and they drove off. I opened the gate and trotted up the stairs before standing in front of him.

“Is something wrong dad?”

“Come in the house and let’s talk.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me inside. As we walked through the house towards the kitchen, I could feel the tension in the air. It was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. My mum sat there at the kitchen table looking distraught almost. “Have a seat.” Okay now I was getting a little freaked out.

I sat down and that’s when dad stood behind mum placing his hands on her shoulders.

“(Y/n), has something been going on at school that you’re not telling us?” asked my mum concerned.

“No—why do you ask?”

“Well we caught Robert and Michael reading your diary and—”

“They what!? MICHAEL! ROBERT GET YOUR ARSES DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW YOU LITTLE BUGGERS!!!”

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Language and lower that tone in your voice!” dad snapped at me. “We handled the boys, but it was then we found this.” He took something out of his pocket before unfolding it and placing it down right in front of me on the table. My heart sunk and my throat grew dry.

It was the first letter sent in by my school.

“So we called the school and they said they’ve been trying to get in touch with us. And that you said we didn’t receive any letter the first time around so the Headmaster gave you a second letter.” Mum stated more in an interrogating tone than the concerned tone she had earlier.

“Have you really been failing your classes? And this time don’t. Lie. To us.”

“No!” I exclaimed.

“They said you’re barely holding a 2.50 GPA.”

“Well I—I just….I don’t mean to I-I-I-I….the teachers they’re…..” I kept rambling as I felt tears in my eyes and my throat clenched. “I don’t get why I’m being target.”

“The better question is why did you lie to us!? You’ve known about your grades for what weeks? And you lied to us every time a grade was mentioned! Do you have any idea the level of betrayal you’ve given to me and your mother!?” my dad’s voice slowly raised up in anger.

I tucked away in fear at his intimidating voice. He rarely and I say this with a big emphasis that my dad rarely gets mad, but when he does—oh god help us all. I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer him.

“(Y/n) (m/n) Deacon answer me when I’m talking to you!” he snapped. I looked up fearfully and ashamed and I did the only thing that was running through my mind.

Run.

I got up and as quick as I could I raced out of the house and down the street. I fucked up. I know, but at this point it was too late. Just seeing my dad get angry with me, I knew he hated me now.

I ran all the way down the street and turned left and ran towards old widow Johannsson’s back garden. I opened the gate that stood around her AC vent and locked the door so that no one could open it. I leaned against the corner of the gate and just sobbed as hard as I could.

All of my fears and sorrow came out as I wept hysterically and choked on my sobs, that’s when I heard my dad’s voice calling out my name. I held my hand over my mouth to try and keep quiet as his voice got louder and louder. I soon saw him through the cracks in the fence as he looked around. Unfortunately a sniffle just had to come out and soon dad turned towards the fence.

“(Y/n)?”

“Please just go away and let me cry in peace.” I choked out.

“That’s not going to happen, now c’mon open the gate.”

“No you—you already hate me.” He scoffed out a sigh.

“Wha—what makes you think I hate you?” he asked in disbelief.

“You only yell when you hate someone. And now you hate me. You hate me that I lied to you. You hate me for keeping secrets. And you hate me because I’m stupid.”

“Hello? What—what is going on out here?” widow Johansson came out on top of her deck and looked down towards us.

“I’m sorry Valarie but—could you give us a few minutes?” she must’ve looked down and saw me because that’s when she slowly backed off and allowed my dad to talk to me again. “(Y/n), love I—I don’t hate you. Yeah I’m upset because you lied to your mum and I but I could never, ever hate you.”

“But you do dad don’t deny it. I kept this from you and you’ll never forgive me. You’ll never love me again because I’m a stupid bitch who can’t understand anything!”

“First of all you are not a stupid bitch. You are a brilliant, smart, beautiful young girl. And I will always love you no matter what.”

“Stop saying that. Please just go away please…..” I trailed off before pleading out one last time. “Please.” With that I didn’t hear another response from him as I continued to softly weep. I could hear footsteps walking up widow Johansson’s back deck and then the back door closed. I looked up and saw my dad as well as widow Johansson gone. I wiped my tears and just curled myself into a ball.

I don’t know how much time passed but I knew it wasn’t long, maybe 5-7 minutes because the next thing I hear are footsteps walking back down the deck and my dad sitting himself down against the gate. It was then I heard a guitar being strummed before a familiar tune was being played.

It was strange to hear it on guitar instead of an electric piano like it was on the record but the tune was easily recognizable, especially when my dad softly began singing the lyrics. And sure he didn’t have as good a voice as my uncles did but—he still made the song count.

Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had I've been with you such a long time You're my sunshine and I want you to know That my feelings are true I really love you Oh, you're my best friend

While it is true that my dad wrote this song for my mum back when a Night at the Opera came out, he also written it for me as well. Because when he first played it for us, he said he wanted a song dedicated to his favorite girls.

So taking the electric piano he practiced and practiced till he knew how to play the tune and since then the song’s been like a comforting lullaby to me. And he’s played and sung it to me ever since.

Ooh, you make me live Whenever this world is cruel to me I got you to help me forgive Ooh, you make me live now honey Ooh, you make me live

You're the first one When things turn out bad You know I'll never be lonely You're my only one And I love the things I really love the things that you do Oh, you're my best friend

Ooh, you make me live

I'm happy at home You're my best friend

He stopped playing and slightly turned towards me. I wiped away my tears and just like it always did, it made me stop crying.

“Guess I still got it huh?”

“Shut up.” I muttered which made him softly chuckle.

“Can you please open the gate love? Let me see my best friend.” He asked. I slowly scooted towards the gate and slowly reached for the handle. I held onto it for a while and I pulled one side down which caused the other side to lift up. The gate slowly opened and there sitting a few feet away from me was my dad. “There she is.”

I sniffled and wiped away the tearstains but I was still afraid to look him in the eye for more than a second. I felt his hand cup the side of my face wiping away the tears.

“Do you think you can talk to me now?” I nodded. “Okay. Now (y/n) please explain to me why you lied to us about your grades?”

“Because I—I wanted to prove myself.”

“Prove yourself about what?”

“That I could be as smart as you. You’re the smartest man I know and you never seem to get stumped about anything. You graduates college with the highest in your major, you’ve built your own amps from old junk, and you handle both our finances as well as the bands. But—the schoolwork I’m given is so beyond hard. I tried my best dad it’s not that I don’t do the homework because I do. I really do, it’s just that…..”

“Hey, hey poppet. Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I sniffled and harshly wiped my tears away but my dad stopped me and replaced my thick sleeve with his gentle but calloused fingers. “I know you do the homework. I’ve seen you do it and so has your mum.”

“But the teachers make it so unfair to learn. They say this or that will be on the test but then something we haven’t even learned yet is what ends up as majority of the questions. Or they’re not consistent with what they want on the papers before giving us a bigger paper the next day after the previous one. Dad I—I’m a failure. And I didn’t want you to be ashamed of having a stupid daughter like me.”

“Oh (y/n),” he scooted closer to me and cupped both sides of my face forcing me to look up at him with teary eyes. “I am in no way, nor will I ever be ashamed to have you as my daughter. You’re my first baby girl and I love you soo much. You don’t have to be a genius like me to be my daughter, because you are smart in your own clever way.”

“But I—I’m failing my classes, how can I be smart when I’m failing?”

“You’re still trying, are you not?” I shrugged.

“I guess.”

“Then that proves your smart. Oh my sweet girl I wish you had come to me about this sooner instead of feeling like you had to hide this from me.”

“I’m sorry daddy.” I softly choked out.

“It’s okay love. Now come here, you deserve cuddles and kisses right now.” I immediately fell into his arms and buried myself into his shoulder. He rubbed my back in soothing circles and stroked through my hair. “We’ll get this sorted out okay? But promise me that you’ll never lie to us about school again, okay?”

“I promise…..never again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And they did just that. I showed my parents everything regarding exams, homework and showed just how unfair the work was for me. I showed them my notes and told them what my teachers were really like.

The next day they scheduled a meeting with the headmaster and they talked about how the teachers are treating me and my fellow classmates unfairly with too much work and not unfair teachings of not asking for help.

Now one would think after telling you this I got off scot-free right? Wrong. I was grounded for the same amount of time that I had lied to my parents about school, so that meant over a week and a half of no TV, no after school activities and no phone privileges.

But after getting the teachers fired and currently dealing with substitutes for the rest of the year, whenever dad wasn’t busy with Queen; he made a promise to sit down with me and if there was anything I was stuck on, he’d help me with it. No matter how long it took.

105 notes · View notes

anne-lister-adventures · 4 years

Text

Monday, 13 May 1839

7 1/2

12 3/4

Fine but dull morning Fahrenheit 48 1/2º inside and outside at 8 3/4 – Breakfast at 8 50/’’ in about 1/2 hour – Just setting about work (arranging things) upstairs when Mr. S.[Samuel] Washington came – Final paying off – Some time A-[Ann] and I with him –

All ended satisfactorily – Glad to have mentioned the Rookes engine coal bid – It seems the coal under the 2 little fields up to the road belongs to Mr. Whiteley the coal under the whole estate of which Lower Rookes originally formed part, being reserved and sold to Mr. Rawson and by him resold to Mr. Whiteley –

S.[Samuel] W.[Washington] would consider of the value – Thinks only about an acre to get belonging to Captain and Mrs. S-[Sutherland], and that so near the surface, it would cost a good deal to make the ground good again – Mr. Whiteley wants to have the loose from now paying a pound a year for it till he wants to make use of it –

A-[Ann] read what Mrs. S-[Sutherland] wrote respecting this in her last letter – Better to let the matter rest for the present – For the S-s[Sutherlands] thinking of £10 a year from the present and for a term of only 7 years were not likely to consent to Whiteley’s plan – S.[Samuel] W.[Washington] shewed how Whiteley by keeping a loose of his open might much benefit the Sutherlands – This to be mentioned by A-[Ann] so that both sides might make things as agreeable as they could –

S.[Samuel] W.[Washington] said he once had £320 per acre bid for the coal (Lightcliffe bed 27 in.inches thick) on the other side of the Leeds and Whitehall road belonging to the S-s[Sutherlands] by Stocks of Lightcliffe – I said he would never have it bid again – To which he seemed to agree – He is to set out the 1200 yards each of stone for Messers Hemingway this afternoon –

Ordered copy of plan of the Township of Southowram – To be on 4 small sheets of paper – Given to Whitely to mount in 4 x 6 parts or folds, and done up in case – to be done in 6 weeks – Price £9 (nine pounds) – To be sent to Hammerslys – All parted agreeably – My going down – Ordering the plan – What was about stone and coal, &c. &c. seemed to satisfy S.[Samuel] W.[Washington] and A-[Ann] and I were all went off finally so well –

I wanted but the mere plan of the Township – But asked S.[Samuel] W.[Washington] to make all the stone quarries stone-colours, and to dot in pencil all the lines of coal-throws he knew of – And just to write on a separate piece of paper the amount of value at which each of my farms &c. stand in the Towns book – Do not want a copy of this book – Which has cost A-[Ann] for Hipperholme cum Brighouse 4 guineas + about 30/- for book &c. –

A-[Ann] paid him on her own account (including £17.10.0 salary up to midsummer) 57.2.6 + on my account 8.15.6 1/2 + given over 4.1.11 1/2 = £70 for which she gave him order on the Commercial Bank late Briggs’s –

Then had Hinscliffe who had been waiting some time – Came to pay and did pay his coal rent = £50 having now paid (at 14 payments) £700 – The old agreement ends in 1842 – The new ordered to end at the same time but H-[Hinscliffe] begged for a little longer time – Thinks there may be 2 acres to get in one of the Flashes now let – The new agreement to be prolonged one year, and end in 1843 –

Message from Hannah Walker that she wanted the brick-field (the little croft she rents of A-[Ann] at 30/- per annum) A-[Ann] explained – Some of the oldest-in-the-family property A-[Ann] has; and H.[Hannah] W.[Walker] might as well ask for Cliff Hill – If Mrs. H.[Hannah] W.[Walker] not consent to A-‘s[Ann’s] wishes respecting the 300 yards of ground to be bought along the Crow Nest carriage road, in consideration of the privilege A-[Ann] granted her (to have her coal pulled at the pit in A-‘s[Ann’s] land) then that A-[Ann] would not grant the privilege, and would not trouble her head any more on the subject –

Asked H-[Hinscliffe] what he valued the engine coal at in the 2 fields adjoining the Leeds and Whitehall land, and coming down to Harper Cliff wood – On rather the field above of which both coal and surface belong to the S-s[Sutherlands] H-[Hinscliffe] answered £50 per acre – What said I, no more than that! I have a hundred guineas per acre bid for engine coal in Well Royde land – (Holt said some time ago he would give that for it) – Why said Hinscliffe, it does but sell for 3d. a load – Good – But it costs nothing besides the rent, except the labour of getting out at the day –

H-[Hinscliffe] says the coal (loosed by the Harper Wood Sutherland loose) lies like “a load-saddle” (packsaddle) cut off by the great throw which he, H-[Hinscliffe] has driven thro’ in shelf – 60 yards broad – He considers the bed he is now working to be between the Lightcliffe better bed (which is perhaps 80 yards + below him) and 2 or 3 workable beds above him – The stone coal (Anthracite) comes out (I forget where in shelf) and they know that there is always good coal beneath –

Gave back to H-[Hinscliffe] the Newcastle Country coal plan (of pit 135 fathoms deep) he lent me in 1835 – He always lingers long – His tale never shortly told – Did not go till about 12 1/4 or later –

Then with A-[Ann] and sat with her 5 minutes at luncheon till 1 – Then came upstairs and wrote all but the 1st line of today having had A-[Ann] with me about 1/2 hour till after 2 – Had just written so far at 2 20/’’ wrote her copy of note to M[esse]rs P[Parker] and A[Adam] A-[Ann] to write to Messers P.[Parker] and A.[Adam] to let Hinscliffe’s new coal agreement end with the year 1843 – To have no right to enter upon, or take up even a sod in the one of the Flashes now leased, and no right pull up at A-‘s[Ann’s] pit. Any coal not rented of her under a penalty after the rate of one hundred and fifty pounds per acre –

A-[Ann] off to Cliff at about 2 20/’’ – Fair as she went – Rain and snow as she returned – From about 2 1/2 for the rest of the day busy of one thing or other of siding kind – Michael the joiner took down the door into my old study and umbrella cupboard and widened the doorway into blue room (except cuting away the 1/2 stooth that is to come) this afternoon and I got things the things partly put away – Standing desk sent up into the Tower study, and took up books – A-[Ann] and I busy there assorting and arranging till 11 50/’’ p.m. –

Robert Norton and Robert junior finished the North chamber this afternoon between 4 and 5 they and Mrs. Lee have been at this and the armoires and cloak-closets the whole of last week – Edward Waddington, Joseph Booth and Robert Wharton and Grey the labourer and a lad (masons) got up again the hall chimney piece between 7 and 8 this evening – Having been a week about the taking down dressing over again and reputting up –

Dinner at 7 25/’’ in 40 minutes – In the cellar just before dinner – 1 old Madeira – A-[Ann] read French – No time to read the newspaper – Coffee – In the tower study (A-[Ann] with me from 10 1/2) till 11 50/’’ –

Fine but dull morning – Very dark about 3 and from 3 25/’’ for the rest of the afternoon and evening rainy, snowy and haily – The ground whitened over between 7 and 8 a.m. Fahrenheit 46º inside and 35º outside at 11 50/’’ p.m. –

The Low Moor bill the steam engine (8 horse power) came this afternoon = £684+! so much for Mr. S.[Samuel] W-‘s[Washington’s] making no regular agreement according to the instructions I left, and taking upon himself the ordering instead of leaving it as I directed to Mr. Holt –

Well! I have turned S.[Samuel] W.[Washington] off for it – perhaps je me suis dédommagée; and my sharper looking into and after things for the future may be more than recompense –

[symbols in the margin of the page:] ✓ ✓ w w

[in the margin of the page:] Sutherland coal

[in the margin of the page:] Order plan of Township of Southowram

[in the margin of the page:] Flashes coal agreement vide next p.[page]

[in the margin of the page:] Sutherland E.[Engine] C.[Coal] at £50. Rookes engine coal

[in the margin of the page:] vide 72.

[in the margin of the page:] A-’s[Ann’s] new coal agreement vide last p.[page]

Page References: SH:7/ML/E/23/0041 and SH:7/ML/E/23/0042

#anne lister code breaker #anne lister #ann walker #marian's last visit

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

Text

Dennis

Welllllll this one got a bit away from me. I blame cabin fever (two days snowed in) and my angst addiction. Story 4 for @drawlight‘s advent challenge.

Couple of notes: Dennis, MA is a real place, and chosen for the setting because (a) it is the site of the first recorded commercial cranberry bog in America, and (b) it has a very silly name. It’s actually quite nice, if you manage to visit between the overcrowded tourist season and the completely dead off season, Crowley just has no patience.

Cranberry wine is not as common as the story might imply, especially in 1982. Crowley is drinking Truro Vineyard’s Cranberry Red from their Lighthouse Wine Series, which my parents are big fans of (it’s good, if you like red wines), even though that wasn’t available until the late 2000s. Bad historian, no cookie for you.

Thanks to @angel-and-serpent for reminding me about the wolf spiders.

04 - Cranberry (2,600 words)

Crowley sat on the four-poster bed, staring at the phone. The clock beside it clicked from 1:59 PM to 2:00. He tensed…but nothing happened.

Don’t panic. It’s not always exactly the same time. He tried to occupy himself by listing things he disliked about the hotel room.

The lighting room was atrocious, casting everything in a sickly yellow color. Even sitting alone, he wore his glasses to dull the glow a little. The bed was…passably comfortable, the quilt too stiff, the pillows far too flat. The carpet was worn, though only a little. The color scheme was too…green. He’d seen three ants, which might just be a coincidence, or the start of an infestation.

The phone rang, a sharp jangle cutting right across his nerves. 2:03 PM.

He scooped up the handset and said as casually as possible, “Yeah?”

And relaxed, smile drifting across his face that he’d never allow in a face-to-face conversation.

“No, I’m not too busy, Angel. How was your week?”

Slowly, he leaned back on the bed, stretching the coiled cord as far as it would go.

“Really? No. The audacity, coming in and trying to buy a book. What do they think it is, some kind of shop?” He listened another moment. “Aziraphale, I am taking this exactly as seriously as it deserves.”

He listened for a while longer, with an occasional, “Yeah. Yeah.”

“How are my plants?” He frowned. “Perfectly fine? They’re dropping leaves all over the shop, aren’t they?” Rolled his eyes and sat up. “No, I don’t care if it’s November, they know what’s expected of them. I’ve only been gone…” he sighed. “Twenty months.” He was really going to have to re-establish dominance when he got back.

“Nah, I mean, New York was great. Plenty going on there. We should – you should – yeah, I think you’d like it there.” He winced. He sounded pathetic. “Then two days ago, hey, congratulations, now on to the next location. But…I really think someone cocked this one up. No way this is where I’m supposed to be.”

“Dennis.”

He jumped to his feet. “No, not Dennis who, Dennis. It’s a town.” Pacing was difficult in a room this small. He almost immediately became tangled in the phone cord. “I have no idea who names a town ‘Dennis.’” He struggled to free himself without moving the earpiece. “Some bloody tourist place, beaches and sea food, only it’s the off-season.”

He kicked the last bit of cord off his leg – how had that even gotten there? – and flung himself dramatically into the armchair. It wasn’t as good without an audience.

“Now I’m stuck here, nothing to do, until Hell admits they made a mistake. Who knows how long that’s going to be.”

Furious scowl. “No, I’m not being… who even uses the word histrionic? There’s really nothing here. Even the hotel – you’ll never guess. Three stars.” He frowned. “You try it.”

“There is a cranberry bog.” He admitted sullenly. “Lots of spiders. I’m sure there’s something I can do with that.” Pause. “No, I will not behave myself, I’m a demon. And I was told to make trouble, not that there’s any trouble to get into here.”

He sighed. “Haven’t the first idea, they just congratulated me for something to do with politics or the economy.” Crowley pulled off his glasses rubbing at his eyes. “Come on, Aziraphale, you know that’s not how I work. I don’t even understand the economy. Supply-side whatsname, what’s that even mean? But Hell was really happy.” He shuddered. “Ah, I hope I don’t get a commendation. Then I’ll know it’s bad. It’ll be like the Spanish Inquisition all over again. Or the French Revolution.”

He smiled, twisting the cord around his finger. “No, I – you don’t have to. If you want crepes, I’m sure there’s someplace closer.” He laughed. “Yeah, now you mention it, they do still have the death penalty here, but I think you need something more than a bad outfit.”

He was running out of things to say. He tried desperately to think of something, anything. “Uh, any dinner plans?” Nodded. “No, that’s – that sounds good. I wish – I hope you enjoy it.” He knocked his head against the back of his chair. “Got some wine at the airport. ’S alright, I guess.” Nodded again. “Yeah. No, definitely. Talk to you next week.”

Crowley walked back to the bed and dropped the phone into the cradle with another sigh.

It was 2:07 PM and Crowley had the phone to his ear before the first ring even finished. “Yeah?”

“Not good, Angel. I spent days getting those wolf spiders to listen to me, and before I could enact my plan, they closed the bog for the season!”

He covered the mouth of the phone and scowled at the half-dozen spiders on his curtain. “Oi, you lot. Back in the planter or you can winter outside with the rest.” He glared until they had settled back among the spiny shrubs with small red blossoms. He would not be telling Aziraphale about his new roommates, or that the best option at the undersized plant shop had been a succulent called crown of thorns.

“No, it was going to be a great plan. All my plans are great.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Well, that worked, didn’t it?”

He groaned and flung himself back onto the green quilt. “Of course I’m still in Dennis, where else would I be? I told them it was probably supposed to be Denver, but does anyone listen to me?” He pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “The worst is, they keep congratulating me on all the good work I’m doing.”

“No, Aziraphale, I don’t think they meant the spiders, either.” He picked up a newspaper – an actual, local paper, not one of the ones put out by Hell. “I’ve been trying to figure out what’s going on, but they don’t exactly get the New York Times here.” He flipped through the titles – Cape Cod Chronicle, Provincetown Advocate, The Register. He’d tried to get a few older issues, but everything was from the current month: November, 1982.

“Why would I go to a library?” Pause. “Ohhhhh. Mm, I suppose I can try that if I get desperate.”

Aziraphale asked a question. “Nh, ah, ok. So. Someone wrote this book about this huge secret satanic organization that, I don’t know, controls the world or something. Accused my side of…some stuff.”

He sighed. “If you must know. Torturing and murdering children.” Crowley sat bolt upright. “No, Aziraphale, obviously not. You’d know if it was true.” He picked at the seams of his black jeans. “I suppose you had to ask.”

“Well that’s the thing. We didn’t know anything about it either. So they sent me here to figure out what was going on.”

He flipped through the pages of the newspapers. “Not much, really. All in their heads, right? Didn’t even need to bother stirring it up, these things really take care of themselves. I’ve just been doing my usual, traveling to different cities, causing a little trouble.”

Giving up on the tiny newsprint, Crowley reached for one of the bottles of cranberry wine that the liquor store had had in abundance. “Well, that’s the thing. I can’t find anything in the papers, so that can’t be it.” He poured himself a glass. “Just…you know. Economic stuff. Banks. Taxes. I don’t know.”

He took a drink. “Mh. There was something, can’t find it now. Some men getting sick out in California. Hope it’s not another plague.” He laughed a little. “Hooray penicillin. Honestly, I’m glad to see the end of plagues. Lousy way to do things.”

Aziraphale turned the conversation to lighter things, and for a while Crowley sipped his wine and listened, learning everything going on back in London, what the customers had tried to buy now, and the angel’s dinner plans.

“Oh, you’ll like this. You know what next week is? Thanksgiving.” He poured the last of the bottle into his glass. “It’s like Christmas, only instead of presents, more food. Very American. The hotel’s serving it in the main dining room.” He drained his glass. “Eh, turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce. The usual. I probably won’t have any, you know, you’re supposed to celebrate with friends, but – yeah I thought you’d like that.” He smiled at the phone. “I’ll…uh, I’ll talk to you then, right?”

After he hung up, he noticed one of the spiders sitting on the floor next to him. “I thought I told you to stay in the planter.” At least they’d cleared up the ant infestation. He’d have to get some crickets in the morning.

The wolf spider waved hairy legs at him. “Oh, alright.” He let her scramble up his arm and settle on his shoulder. “But no wine for you. That’s all I need, bunch of drunk spiders.”

The phone rang at 2:01 PM. Crowley didn’t pick up.

Or at 2:10. Or 2:13.

It was 2:29 PM – long after Aziraphale had lost track of the number of times he’d called and hung up – when Crowley finally knocked the handset out of the cradle. “Wha’?” he demanded, slouched on the floor amid empty bottles of cranberry wine.

“’M celebrating, tha’s what.” The spider on his shoulder scurried down to settle on his knee instead. She was always nearby these days. “Cuz I know what Hell c’gratulated me for.”

He dug around for a bottle that was still half-full, drank straight from its mouth. “Not the economy. Well. Starts with that. Whole time I’m here, people been…losing jobs, banks closing. Did I notice?” He leaned his head against the bed. “No, s’pose not. But people…you know people.”

He nodded, watching the spider jump from one knee to the other. “Satanic Cult story just…keeps growing. Accusations. People in prison. Kids always in the middle. ’S not even real. Just. Panic. And then the other thing.”

He held out his hand, let the spider crawl across his fingers. “Said I was done caring, after the Black Death. You can’t… can’t care, you know? Plague’s gotta run its course.” He hadn’t ever really believed that anyway. “But this is… something new.”

He raised his hand and the spider clambered onto his head. It felt nice, little fuzzy legs combing through his hair. “Dunno. Something with… ’mune system? ’S bad. And…and no one cares. Aren’t studying it. Aren’t talking about it. Cuz of who’s sick.”

He picked up the bottle again, draining it, sweet-tart wine running down his throat. “’S what ’m s’posed to’ve done, y’know. Make ’em turn on each other. Cut off th’ ones who need help. ’S like I did in Spain…and France…”

He leaned his head against his knees, curling up beside the bed in his nest of bottles. “Nnhhh, ’f its nothing to do with me, why do I keep getting credit?”

Crowley couldn’t listen any longer. He let the phone tumble out of his fingers, onto the floor. Aziraphale’s voice grew louder, more insistent, then abruptly cut off.

Of course he’d hang up. Why would anyone want to talk to a demon who –

With a strange hum, something burst out of the phone, materializing in the hotel room very close to where Crowley sat. The pale figure stumbled on the wine bottles, then straightened his tartan bow tie and glared.

“Don’t you dare ignore me, Crowley.”

“I…how’d you…”

“Traveling through the telephone lines. You told me you’d tried it once before.”

“It was awful.”

“Not nearly as awful as your driving.” Aziraphale looked him up and down. “Look at yourself. You’re dressed like some sort of…teenaged ruffian. Why is there a spider in your hair?”

“’S fashion,” Crowley answered vaguely.

The angel leaned down and lifted the wolf spider, being careful not to hurt her legs. He watched the spider run across his palm. “And how long has he been like this?”

“Look, Angel, she just –”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Aziraphale walked away, whispering to the spider. “Really? And you didn’t try to tell him – No, I suppose not. No, you’ve done your best. I’ll take it from here.” He set the spider down among the crown of thorns.

The angel still looked absolutely furious. “You could at least stand up instead of skulking on the floor like that.”

Crowley stumbled and tottered getting to his feet, and it wasn’t only because of the all the empty bottles. Well, in a way it was.

“Angel, you shouldn’ be here –”

“I should absolutely be here. You’ve been on your own far too long.” He eyed the bottles. “How many of those are from today?”

“Nn. All of ’em. Housekeeping clears them out every morning.”

He tried not to notice the look Aziraphale gave him as the angel snapped his fingers, miracling the bottles into a neat row across the bedside table. “Now sober up.”

“C’mon, Angel, ’m fine.”

“Sober up. I’m not talking to you like this.”

The cranberry wine was a lot less pleasant coming out than it had been going in. And sobriety only made all the emotions he’d been feeling more clear.

Aziraphale watched the liquid pour back into the bottles, and when he was satisfied, jabbed a finger into Crowley’s chest.

“I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense. You are not responsible for what the humans do, or believe, or ignore. That is their choice.”

“I know.” He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “I just…how can they be so cruel to each other?”

“Free will.” Aziraphale sat beside him, so close their shoulders just barely brushed. “One day an act of kindness that surprises even me, the next…”

“The next, they leave hundreds of people to die horribly, just because they’re different.” This wasn’t any easier to process sober. “Are you going to tell me this is all part of the Ineffable Plan?”

“Would that make you feel better?”

“Has it ever?”

“Then, no. I think I’ll leave it at that.”

They sat together in silence for a long time.

There really weren’t any words to make it better. Free will or not, Plan or not, sometimes, humans were the absolute worst. He didn’t know why, after six thousand years, it still hurt to learn that.

But it helped to know, from the pressure of one shoulder leaning on another, that at least someone else had never learned to stop caring.

“So, are you going to head back to London?”

“After coming all this way?” Aziraphale had run out of severe looks; he just smiled sadly. “I have a few healings left in my allowance for the year. I think I might…see what I can do out in California.”

Crowley nodded, and for once he was the one on the verge of a forbidden thank you.

“Before you go. I think the Thanksgiving dinner is about to start. I don’t suppose…”

“My dear, I would never turn down a feast.”

The demon quickly stood up, re-settling his glasses, manifesting something a little more sophisticated than the punk-inspired look he’d been wearing.

Aziraphale dug under the bed and found an unopened bottle of cranberry wine. “I’m looking forward to seeing how this tastes. Oh, it looks like a little lighthouse! Lovely.”

Crowley paused at the door. “You’re not going to be all weird and pretend we don’t know each other, are you?”

“I suppose not. Since this is supposed to be a celebration with friends.” He eyed Crowley suspiciously. “Don’t go being overly familiar just because I said that.”

“Me? I would never!”

#good omens fanfiction #good omens prime #ineffable husbands #31 days of ineffables #aziraphale #crowley #hurt comfort #but tough love comfort #aziraphale is a bastard

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