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inrainprose · 1 year ago

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers!

tagged by @rongzhi, thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? A cool 137 works! I have about 80 more on my ff.net account.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 1,614,083 yoooo

3. What fandoms do you write for? I write for a lot of different fandom because I like to write one or two pieces for every show/movie/manga/anime I enjoy. These days it's mainly BLs and Naruto.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Flip the Coin, Naruto. 37 chapters - 329,138 words - 9,296 kudos

We'll Make a Home out of it (Brother to You Part 1), Naruto. 5 chapters - 20,825 words - 5,808 kudos

Ajar Hearts, MDZS. One shot - 7,421 words - 5,006 kudos

You Were Born Today (I'm Grateful) (Brother to You Part 2), Naruto. 7 chapters - 25,934 words - 4,596 kudos

It Takes a Village (To Make a Village) (Brother to You Part 3), Naruto. 7 chapters - 55,154 words - 4,557 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do respond to every comments or close to it, usually with a few days/weeks delay. I like to get replies to comments, so I give them out too. Usually the reply matches the length of the comment. I like this link with the readers and I want them to know I'm out there haha.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends since it's a Malec Romeo & Juliet AU... Slightly different ending but still terrible.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics have happy endings since they're just one shot of people being happy after all the angst. But I guess it would be Ending, Beginning since the whole point is to write my ideal happy Naruto epilogue.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not consistently. I've had a few repeated offenders on Naruto fics and the occasional not very polite comment, but nothing major.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not at all, I never have. It usually fades to black, or it's very tame. Like sex does happen in some of my fics but it's never explicit.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? The only proper crossover I did was Stranger Things x X-Men with Eleven attending the Institute.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have, someone started to post Flip the Coin on ff.net at some point without mentioning me anywhere. Was warned by a reader. There is also an audio version of it in spanish on youtube for some reason, I never went to the bottom of that...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, a few! Mostly some Malec stuff in Russian, and some Spanish too. And I translated some of my own fics myself between French and English.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, never. Did some RP though does it count.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? The ship of my heart is Naruto n Sasuke 4ever, otherwise my faves vary.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? The one I'm most torn over is Start Digging because I was really into it and had quite a bunch planned, but the fandom deserted my heart for some reason. If I get back into MHA I might pick it up, but so much happened since then... Otherwise I don't write a lot of multi-chaptered fics and I tend to write one shots in one go and post them immediately so I don't have that many WIPs.

16. What are your writing strengths? Big Feels I think? And emotional dialogues. That's what I enjoy anyway.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Fight scenes because I hate them. And also I feel like my vocabulary is not very varied since English is not my first language, sometimes I have the impression that I use the same words ten times in one fic...

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I do it if the other is not supposed to understand it, I like it. But I only ever did it with language I had a grasp on, it would feel strange to just google trad some stuff. If I can't and it's not that relevant I would just put "they said something in that language" or something like that.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Weirdly enough it was the manga/anime Get Backers. I went on a deep dive in search of this fic since I deleted it from my ff.net account a long time ago, and thus abandoned this post for several days, but I can't find it sadly. It was a self-insert.

20. Favorite fic you've written? I like my work a lot and reread it frequently. The ones I enjoy the most vary with time, but I have to say Flip the Coin for the sheer size and work that went into it and the audience it got. A true accomplishment in my book :)

Tagging @convenientalias, @morathicain and all the writers passing by :)

#writing #personal #ask meme #kinda #i like talking about my fics can you tell

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littleblondesoprano · 8 months ago

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4,9, 14, 24

Thank you!! :D!! I'm whacking this under a Read More because apparently I like to talk, lol.

4) List five of your favorite recipes, share them if you like!

1) Peanut Butter Ramen: I've been addicted to this lately. What you're gonna do is get your ramen noodle block (whichever you like, but mom and I get our favorite kind from Costco). Cover it in water and pop it in the microwave for 3 minutes.

While that's cooking, you're going to assemble your Team. You Need: Peanut Butter (any kind, but we use Justin's, the one with honey in it), Garlic Powder, Onion Powder, Five Spice, Ginger, Coconut Aminos (can use Soy Sauce in its place). Raw veggies, sriracha, sesame seeds, and french fried onions.

You're gonna slap like half a cup of peanut butter, however much garlic, onion powder, ginger, and five spice you think you want, a splash of coconut aminos, and mix that shit together. You now have your peanut butter sauce.

Next, your raw veggies. You can throw legit whatever you want in there, but I use bell pepper (Red), carrot slices, green onions, purple onions, and cucumbers. Slice your veggies to mouth-sized pieces to your heart's content!

Drain out the water from the ramen with a similarly sized plate on top of the ramen noodles. Once you are done choppin, plop in a good 3-4 heaping tablespoons of your peanut butter sauce to the ramen, all of your chopped veggies, then top with sriracha, sesame seeds, and french fried onions! Combine and FEAST. Keep in the fridge, and you can easily get 4 meals out of this sauce.

2) No Bake Cookies (Boiled Cookies) I've had these so many times in my life and they are always fucking bangers. Cannot go wrong with these!!

3) Salmon-Avocado Sushi Salad: Mom and I make sushi for lunch (and I usually get two more meals out of sushi rolls too) and all the leftovers go into a big bowl that I call 'sushi salad' and can eat 2/3 of before feeling sick because it's just so good that you don't want to stop eating. Keep in mind: This recipe is for 2 people across multiple days - it's 5 meals out of this amount, including sushi salad. Which is a lot, in and of itself.

You Need: 1 Can Salmon, 2 packs Nori sheets, 2-3 english cucumbers, 3-4 carrots, 3-4 ripe avocados, black sesame seeds, Coconut Aminos, 1 red bell pepper, 4 cups sushi/sticky rice. Tupperware containers. Water. Big Knife. 3 bowls. Rice cooker.

Properly clean your sushi rice and pop it in the rice cooker (or use the stove, whatever). While that is cooking, slice your english cucumber, carrots, and red bell pepper into long, thin slices. Drain your canned salmon and turn on the sink to make the liquid go away faster bc my god does it stink. Empty salmon into bowl, and crack open your avocados - scoop out whatever meat inside is not bad and add it to the bowl with your salmon; once all avocados are free of their husk, get a potato masher or fork and go to Town. I like my meat mixture like a green ooze, but if you want chunks, don't go Fully to town. Take an Exit or two before you are at Blob level ooze. Set off to the side.

Get another bowl and fill it almost to the brim with water, this is to dunk your Big Knife in so the sushi/sticky rice does not adhere to it in between cuts, bc it will TRY.

Once rice is done, lay out a Nori sheet and cover in rice, making sure to leave space at the top - like the header on a google doc - to wet so the Nori will stick to itself and Become Roll. Layer in your fillings - we start with sesame seeds, then the Meat Ooze, then cucumbers, then carrots, then bell pepper before Rolling. Do this until you have today's lunch, and two days worth of sushi (usually, two medium sized tupperware containers, single layered).

Now armed with your left overs, you're going to cut up the rest of your veggies into bite sized pieces and throw it in the bowl with the Meat Ooze. Toss in a handful or two of sesame seeds, two Nori sheets (torn up, for bite-ability), and not all of the rice, but a good chunk of it. Top with a shit ton of Coconut Aminos, stir up, and Enjoy. :3

4) Pickle Chicken: This is a pretty easy one, but it is time consuming. You Need: Chicken Breasts, Big Pickle Jar (24 oz), Garlic powder, Onion powder, salt and pepp, panko bread crumbs, flour of your choice, egg or milk or both, an Air Fryer but two is better.

You're gonna beat up the chicken and then submerge it in a bath of pickles and *lots* of pickle juice. Marinate them bois in pickle juice in the fridge for two days. Come back to it having assembled a wet and dry breading station: in one container we have a beaten egg, or milk, or a mixture of both - and in the other corner we have our Spices (onion, garlic, probably salt, pepper and w/e else you want) flour, and bread crumbs. Beside that we have as many air fryers as you can plug in without throwing a fuse.

Spray the insides of the air fryers with nonstick things, like Pam. Take that Pickled goodness known as chicken out of its briny grave, dredge in the dry, then the Wet, then the dry again before tossing very quickly (but not too quick to splatter) into a heated air fryer. Do this until all fryer space is full or you are out of chicken. Flip the chicken at the 10 minute mark, then fry an additional 12-15 minutes, or until the internal temp reads at least 165F/80C. Then pop that sucker on a sandwich, or enjoy with honey mustard if you know what is yummy.

5) Rotisserie Chicken Salad (Add Dill if you like Dill. And green onions) I used to eat a version of this for a while when I first came home from college! Very good, very refreshing, esp with crackers or on a sandwich with some lettuce + cucumbers. (Pro tip: cherry tomatoes on the side go beautifully with this. I also add like, half of the mayo, I don't like my chicken salad soupy.)

9) If you could go anywhere in the universe and in time, where would you go? What would you do? Who would you be?

I would go back to Ancient Rome, when the Coliseum was almost completed. I had a dream - but it just felt different than a normal dream - that I was standing on top of a hill, with, I guess, my partner in that life, watching a big block being lifted with a rudimentary crane as the sun was just starting to set. I want to go there, not just to see what I think is a past-life version of myself, but to just look down from that hill. I have the image stuck in my brain - it's been a few years since I had the dream - and I really want to see it for real. I'd also just really love watching a naval battle happen in the coliseum bc that sounds wild.

14) Would you ever visit a lighthouse?

I have already! On vacation a long while ago (2012-ish?) we visited the Saint Augustine Lighthouse in Saint Augustine, FL. It was beautiful, and really fun! The view is so worth going up all those stairs, and, it's haunted! We mainly went bc it's haunted, but it was really fun! I'd totally go back. And ofc, I would visit a lighthouse, they're often haunted and I'd fucking love ghost hunting in one.

24) Be honest, do you have stuffed animals?

I have many!! I'll even show ya pictures! I have two Ghostface plushies because I fucking love that man, that mythos, that bod, that knife.

I have a lil ghostie who falls off my bed every single night, so I just put him on the floor. And a GIANT ghostie that I got from TJ Maxx last year in the Halloween section because I loved it.

A big ol' bat!! I think I got it from Michaels when the Halloween stuff was on sale. And I have a bat Ugly Doll (does anyone else remember when those were big?) I have my other Ugly Dolls, but they're in a bin. The Bat has special privileges on account of being a bat.

I have a bichon frise dog plush, bc my paternal grandma had a bichon named Bebe and I loved her dearly. This plushie is named Sassy though. I think mom got her for me when I was a toddler bc we were on a long car ride (10 hours) and I didn't have a stuffed animal with me.

I have Beast, from Beauty and the Beast. I got him from when I went to Disney, almost eight years ago? He falls off a lot. And a $6 Build-a-bear from the $6 build-a-bear day. I got it in college; it used to have little overalls, but they ripped so I shoved the fabric in my fabric stash (ziploc bag) and now it is Nakey. It is also ripped down the back for some reason, and I gotta try and sew it back up.

A ram, very fluffy, very cute. It holds up the rest of the plushies. Foundational King.

A ragdoll plush that looks a lot like Fluffy when she was little! Dad bought her for me when I moved four hours away for college, so I wouldn't miss my Fluffy as much. (Read: I did miss her just as much, but the plushie was very nice).

A roadkill Bunny that I adore! The ones on Etsy sold out way too fast, so I got one from Amazon. The quality is definitely not as good, but I love it just the same.

A giant sheepdog! I don't remember if I named it or not, it's been so long. I took it to college with me because I legit cannot sleep without it or without pillows/a person in its spot. I need to have both sides of my body barricaded when I sleep. i am not joking when I say my body wakes me up if it falls off of the bed.

I also have all the plushies (stored away, ofc) that I loved when I was little, like the sock monkey mom passed down to me (Monkey-Lunkey), or Googly-Eyed Scooby, or the horse from Toy Story.

#littleblondesoprano #I also have Erik (POTO) and a Loki plush #and many ugly dolls #I loved them so much #I still have some WebKinz all packed away too!#and the Mystery Gang from Scooby Doo #so many Scooby plushes

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more-than-a-princess · 2 years ago

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Continued from here for @scarlxtleaves (I can't edit the previous post because I think it was done with legacy editor and I use beta editor)

"I'm not sure if I'm an efficient ruler yet," Sonia admitted, switching lanes in order to pass a particularly slow truck on the highway. There were speed limits of course, but they were more like guidelines. And the more distance they put between the car and the manor, the greater chance they had of not getting caught. Or at least, not getting caught for a few days, until the group found some way to track them, reach them, and likely be torn between relief and berating the two of them for running off.

Sonia cast a quick, sideways glance to Lupin: considering how he had plan A and contingency plans that often didn't look like contingencies at all, surely he must have considered what would transpire once their holiday getaway ended. Whether they'd seen everything they wished to or they were uncovered early, what did he plan to do? How did he plan to explain it? Or would that task be put squarely on her shoulders? Smoothing over conflict was part of the royal skillset, and while she could do it Sonia still wondered how he'd steer the situation into some sort of resolution.

Preferably better than her own steering, at least where the car was concerned: it was precise and no one was hurt, but with Tokyo well behind them, she could now drive as if she were on a simulated battlefield: carefully weaving with both hands on the wheel and adrenaline in her veins. "I suppose others would be impressed by our fluency in Japanese, but I feel that's almost impolite in a way. Whenever you visit another country where the citizens speak in foreign tongues, it is most appropriate to learn as much as you can so you might communicate more efficiently. Novoselic is a bit of an anomaly: Japanese is the fourth most popular language at home, with French and Italian, and then English, that are spoken more frequently."

But she paused her criticism of tourists to laugh at Lupin's warning. Maybe if she hadn't needed both hands to drive, she could've hid her amusement behind a feminine giggle and a well-placed hand over her mouth. But his advice came years too late, and she was both less-naïve and far more experienced in the exact issue he'd put forth. "I think the term you're searching for is 'gaijin-hunter,' Mr. Lupin!" She told him, as soon as she'd been able to take a breath. "Truthfully, I had a boy stalk me for the greater part of three years in high school, and he was a classmate. And it's not just boys, either: women can be equally interested in, as you put it, 'beautiful foreigners.'"

She grinned as she switched lanes, moving the car into the appropriate exit lane. "Should I look out for you too then, as we obtain food and petrol?" She asked playfully, turning at the light and stopping at a nearby station attached to a FamilyMart. With a 7-Eleven across the street should they need it, it looked like the small town they'd chosen would serve them well. It was only when she'd put the car into park that she'd realized what she'd done: she'd inadvertently called him a beautiful foreigner.

That wasn't exactly a lie.

"Shall we go in and find something to eat?" Sonia asked him in French, quickly getting out of the car. Hopefully she changed the flow of the conversation just as quickly: the last thing she needed to do was make him feel uncomfortable. "I've always seen on television programs that sandwiches are best whilst engaging in long drives, but I've never had the opportunity to indulge in such things." Not when hampers had always been prepared for her, or she ate on the train or plane.

#scarlxtleaves #Non-Despair AU: The Princess of Novoselic #(I tried every way I could to trim the post to just your reply and this reply from me)#(But tum.blr wouldn't allow it)#(So I made a new post instead: I hope that's ok!)

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more-than-a-princess · 2 years ago

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It might have been a disarming effect, but unfortunately for Sonia, it worked. They'd been apart for the better part of a year and yet he hadn't forgotten her tendency to care, perhaps even more than a situation needed. He also seemingly hadn't forgotten the curve her lips made when she frowned in worry, her smile turning upside down and drooping, his fingertip tracing over the lines that had formed.

Sonia sucked in a breath. It was good they were in public: it kept her from retaliating the way she wanted, something far more direct than polite conversation over a meal. "It wouldn't be a bad idea," She replied once the server had left. "But conversational Japanese will get you far in my country, even if French and Italian are the two native languages. Most citizens who are middle class and above will have elected to take Japanese language classes. And English, though that is taught in every school. What I've observed with foreigners is that plenty of Novosonians wish to practice their English or Japanese with them."

It could have been worse: he could've been fluent in something mostly unspoken, like Swedish, and then there would be even more to master just to be able to communicate with someone other than Sonia, a few members of her family, and various interpreters. She had what was left of the night to throw caution to the wind before she needed to focus on practicality, or rather facing everyone who thought her to be foolish or completely cracked, depending on the person asked.

Wylan, however, wasn't going to wait until morning. Sonia flinched mid-chew, but she waited until swallowing and setting down what was left of her burger on her plate before speaking. "But you didn't in the end, right?" She asked, wiping her fingers on a cloth napkin. She still preferred the knife and fork, but there was something meaningful about enjoying their meals the same way. Well, she was enjoying it: Wylan's enjoyment had fled, likely right around the time she'd made the decision to impulsively kiss him in a Las Vegas casino.

"You stayed. You could have left if you wanted, and I wouldn't have stopped you, but you stayed," She continued, her burger and wine now temporarily forgotten. Even the aligot would likely congeal at this rate, but none of them were as important as Wylan. Little, she realized, would ever be as important as he was. The problem was: he either didn't see it or didn't find himself worthy of it. "And it's not as if I make impulsive decisions, particularly ones that will greatly affect quite a few lives, as easily as I ordered dinner tonight."

"But I've spent nine months without you: time spent making an attempt at healing, doing everything my family has asked of me and more, and I can't say it's made me feel better. Rather, I felt worse. I've been worse off without you, though I've been reluctant to say that out loud until now." She had to thank the stars for a quiet section of the restaurant and her resolve not to indulge in more alcohol than she needed. For as easy as it was for Sonia to care about others and devote her life to protecting and supporting them, it was just as difficult to open up her own heart, still raw and uncertain, and place every card she had on the table.

"You could lie, you could disappear just as easily as you did last time, but I also know that if I didn't take a chance on us when the opportunity was given that I'd regret it, likely for the rest of my life. You're a newly-former assassin and I'm the crown princess of one of the last absolute monarchies on Earth. Wylan, I don't think anything between us could never not be weird."

She smiled, torn between joy and amusement now. He did the mischievous smirk far better than she did, but that didn't mean she'd stop making an attempt. "I've spent the better part of my twenty-five years trying desperately to be normal, to fit in. Maybe it's time I embrace the fact I don't? And frankly, I don't think there's anyone better to share such a weird life with than the person sitting across from me. All I'd ask is for you to want to try it, at the very least. I won't lie and say it'll be easy: I predict there will be plenty of ugliness in the way. But you, and we, are worth it."

And speaking of being in a Paris restaurant, it would be remiss if she didn't at least finish her drink. Not that she was in any rush, but she took what she thought to be a well-deserved sip. "Anyway, I'd rather be weird, forgive you, choose to trust you, and put myself out of self-imposed misery than the alternative. Perhaps even with a small dessert to top it off, and some rest. I'd wager we both could use that."

The first hurdle already. Making promises. Is it really a hurdle? Should it be that serious? It’s not as though her requests were unreasonable. She had every right to be concerned outside of his own well being. Should things go south how easy would it be for those former ‘benefactors’ to trace him back to Sonia? Presumably the last thing Novoselic wanted was for the prince (no not prince you’re a consort or something) to be held ransom by Russian kingpins. Or simply killed and smeared with as a result. Lovely.

Also awful topic for a dinner table?

“I promise. Not to keep you out if I need you.” Wylan concedes. “But the menu will be another thing. I’ve been fasting! Which is different from starving. My tendencies to splurge junk food aside I’m actually good at this, you know. I’ve had—uh, jobs—where I had no choice but to hold out for a lot longer than this. Cute that you’re worried. I like the face you make when you do it, there’s a little curve around your smile. Yeah… right around here.” He reaches across the table, tracing part of her lip before he sits back with a smirk.

Yes, this is absolutely a disarming deflect. But Wylan did make the important promise! Points are earned for that.

“Maybe I should learn French.” He mutters to himself, arms folded and polite smile given to the waiter as Sonia plays her tongue in that foreign language in a way that has Wylan grinning. Even so, something continues to simmer in the back of his mind. Behind the flirting and the smiling and even more flirting questions bubbled and frothed. Or maybe that twist in his gut really was hunger? Toleration of it being empty is one thing but trying to think so hard on it was another.

The masterwork of a burger is only a temporary distraction, but maybe it’s apparent on his face that he’s not fully indulging himself anymore in the splendor of their reunion. Apprehension has taken its hold and holds him back from it like restraints. Or maybe it’s holding him up? Holding him down? When you’re floating in the air it’s hard to tell which direction the ground is.

“Sonia…” He begins finally, after toasting the burger in a ridiculous show (and even that wasn’t enough to fully shine the smile again). “Isn’t this… agh. I dunno. I haven’t… done this before. It’s a first. This. Us. But it’s fast, right? A few hours ago I was ready to re cut you out of my life and you thought I was gone. Now we’re in a Paris restaurant well after dark and…” His expression deepens, this is stupid after all. He knows off the bat that not only is he at odds with himself, but Sonia likely would shoot it down entirely.

But that doesn’t feel right?!

“Shouldn’t you be … I dunno, apprehensive?! What if I’m lying or what if something actually goes wrong. You just… forgave me. And then we made out. I mean come on that’s weird, isn’t it? It felt amazing, don’t get me wrong! But… it’s weird.”

#cadcnce #Non-Despair AU: The Princess of Novoselic #(tbh I'd be surprised if Wylan wasn't nervous about all of this)#(because it's a lot to go through!)#(Though this whole time I was torn between having the Jugh.ead 'I'm weird. I'm a weirdo' speech from Ri.ver.dale)#(And Moss from IT Cr.owd's 'I like being weird' speech going through my head)#(Sonia does have some sweet style though)

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archonate-seorwen · 2 years ago

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In Medias Res: A KOTOR Fanfiction - Prologue

Hi everyone.

I am currently working on a French version of the complete KOTOR story. I've got little time and not always the energy, so I'm trying to cheer myself up by translating what little I've written so far.

This version will include some chapters that are published (not here) in another fanfic dedicated to the relationship between Revan and Bastila. But they will certainly be subject to some changes.

Seven other chapters are to be published soon.

I am not a native English speaker. So my apologies for the grammatical and syntactical errors.

Thanks a lot!

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Prologue

Darkness. Then, a pinprick of light, growing steadily brighter.

"Corem."

The voice echoed, distant and muffled, as if filtered through layers of thick cloth. I tried to respond, but my lips refused to move.

"Corem Galhor."

My name. They're calling my name. But why does it sound so unfamiliar?

Good gods. What's happening to me?

"Corem Galhor, if you can hear me, do something."

Shut up. Please, just let me sleep.

"Turn on the spotlight. He needs to wake up."

Suddenly, a blinding flash assaulted my senses. It pierced through my closed eyelids, searing my retinas and slicing into my foggy brain like a vibroblade. The pain was excruciating, indescribable.

"The eyelids are contracting. Keep going."

No. Leave me be. I don't want to wake up.

A softer voice cut through the chaos, gentle yet insistent.

"Corem Galhor, you're waking up from a very deep sleep. It's normal that you feel unwell. Don't be afraid, this is only temporary. Come back to us."

Slowly, agonizingly, I force my eyes open. The world was a blur of harsh light and indistinct shapes. Where was I? What was happening?

The voice, once distant, now drilled into my eardrums with shrill intensity. An infernal cacophony. Would it ever stop? Part of me yearned to surrender to its insistent calls, if only to regain the soothing calm of silence. But the choice was being torn from my hands.

Slowly, inexorably, I clawed my way out of the darkness. This sleep had been so deep, so all-encompassing, that my very consciousness felt alien. Was this truly my reality? Or was it merely the product of my unhinged mind, a chaotic dreamscape orchestrated with unsettling precision?

How did I get here?

I forced my eyes open, only to slam them shut again as searing pain lanced through my skull.

"You're doing well, Corem. Take your time."

My breathing came in ragged gasps, each inhalation a monumental effort. Yet beneath the discomfort lay a startling realization – I could breathe. Such a simple act, one I'd never given thought to before, now filled me with a quiet satisfaction. I was alive.

But what had happened? I had to see, had to face whatever awaited me beyond the safety of my eyelids.

Bracing myself, I tried again. The pain returned, sharp and relentless, but I endured. If I let it wash over me, I reasoned, it would eventually tire and recede.

And so it did. After an eternity of agonizing seconds, the pain ebbed away. I blinked, trying to bring the world into focus. Blurry shapes danced before me, silhouetted against a blaze of light. Gradually, one of these forms approached.

A new sensation: pressure on my wrist. Gentle or firm, I couldn't tell. But it was there, grounding me in this strange new reality.

"Well, you're coming back from a long way off."

The voice was right. What I'd thought was a simple coma had ravaged my mind, reducing my mental faculties to mere fragments. The days following my awakening were a hellish ordeal: atrocious migraines pounded relentlessly, the world spun in a nauseating dance, and my stomach rebelled against me at every turn. My body, it seemed, was intent on sabotaging its own recovery.

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Yet, as the days bled into weeks, my strength slowly returned. Health, or at least a semblance of it, gradually reasserted itself.

With my memory in tatters, I became a detective in my own life, piecing together the puzzle of my past from the accounts of doctors and hospital staff. The picture that emerged was disappointingly mundane: a traffic accident. Ordinary, if spectacular. By some cosmic jest, I had managed to injure no one but myself.

But the fragments of dreams that clung to me told a different story. In my coma-induced haze, I had been someone else entirely - powerful, dominant, exceptional. Those phantom memories whispered of an extraordinary life, far removed from the banal reality I now faced.

The truth hit me like a bucket of ice water. I wasn't special. I wasn't powerful. I was just an ordinary man, recovering from a stupid, all-too-common accident.

The realization stung more than I cared to admit.

As days passed, fragments of memory slowly resurfaced. My brain, it seemed, was undergoing a meticulous process of cleaning and reorganization. Flashes of my time at Bar'leth University returned, reminding me of the path that had led me to become a skilled interpreter and translator. I recalled my last job, the pinnacle of my fledgling career, where I'd found myself in the rarified air of Onderon's royal court.

But beyond that? A vast, unsettling blank.

My personal life remained an impenetrable mystery. Was I married? A father? Did I have a family waiting anxiously for news of my recovery? Try as I might, I couldn't conjure a single face or name. The realization hit me with crushing force - I was utterly alone. Weeks of interacting solely with hospital staff only reinforced this isolation. Not a single visitor had darkened my door.

I was just an ordinary man. A lonely man. Adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

Yet even this bleak assessment didn't quite fit. Why was I, a civilian translator, recuperating in a military hospital in the heart of the capital? True, I served the Republic, but I had no official ties to the armed forces. Wouldn't a civilian facility have been more appropriate? This incongruity nagged at me, adding another layer to my growing sense of displacement and confusion.

The more I pondered my situation, the less sense it made. Each answer only spawned more questions, leaving me feeling even more lost and isolated than before.

"Hello, Corem."

The familiar voice drew me from my reverie. It belonged to the head of the department, the woman who had been overseeing my care since my arrival. I recognized it as the same voice that had guided me back to consciousness, though its timbre had changed. What once had been aggressive and piercing now felt soft and comforting, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

With effort, I pushed myself up from my reclined position, turning to face her properly. She stood in the doorway, a woman in her forties with fine features etched by years of dedication to her work. Fatigue had left its mark on her face, and strands of gray threaded through her short-cropped hair. Yet, despite these signs of age—likely accelerated by the demands of her profession—she radiated a quiet dignity and charm. There was an undeniable charisma about her, born of intelligence and a deep sense of responsibility.

"Hello, Doctor," I finally managed, my voice still rough with sleep.

Her eyes, kind but keen, studied me closely. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Morning? The word caught me off guard. I glanced towards the window, where partially drawn blackout curtains allowed a sliver of light to spill into the room. Beyond the glass, I could make out the bustling energy of a city coming to life. The soft glow of early morning light painted everything in gentle hues, its warmth slowly reawakening my dulled senses.

"I'm fine," I replied, meeting her gaze once more.

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response. "Perfect. I'm going to proceed with our usual tests, Corem. After that, I'll let you wash up and get dressed." She paused, her expression shifting slightly. "A naval non-commissioned officer wishes to speak with you."

The last sentence hung in the air, pregnant with implications I couldn't quite grasp. Why would a naval officer be interested in me? The question added another layer to the mystery surrounding my presence here, but before I could ponder it further, the doctor was already moving towards me, ready to begin her examination.

"Understood," I managed to reply, unable to keep a note of bewilderment from my voice.

The doctor, seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil, proceeded with her daily routine of tests. Motor skills, cognitive functions - all checked and rechecked with meticulous care. As always, the results were surprisingly positive. My recovery was progressing at a pace that seemed to astound even the medical staff. At this rate, I was slated for discharge by week's end.

Once the examination was complete and I'd gone through my usual morning routine, I found myself restless. Instead of retreating to the bed or settling into a chair, I felt an overwhelming urge to move. I activated the news terminal, more out of habit than genuine interest, and began to pace the room.

My restless wandering brought me to the window. The view beyond the glass captured my attention, drawing me into a moment of quiet contemplation. Coruscant sprawled before me, a forest of towering skyscrapers bathed in the planet's characteristic white sunlight. Several of the most imposing structures, I knew, housed the Ministry of Defense - explaining the military hospital's proximity.

As I studied the cityscape, trying to reconcile this vast, bustling metropolis with my fragmented memories, a sudden burst of sound from the terminal jolted me back to the present. The news broadcast had begun, its urgent tones a stark contrast to the serene urban panorama before me.

Suspicious activities in the peripheral regions of the Outer Rim and the Taris system have caught the attention of the Republic authorities. Part of the fleet has been chartered to these areas and—"

The sudden roar of a passing convoy outside my window drowned out the newscaster's words, momentarily pulling me from the broadcast. As the noise faded, I caught the tail end of the report:

"—the Chancellery and the Jedi Order have renewed their agreement providing for effective military collaboration. Bastila Shan, credited with the Republic's recent victories, has been placed in a secure location following a Sith ambush attempt. Public authorities report that Lord Malak is now actively seeking the Padawan, whose Battle Meditation power has inflicted heavy losses on Sith forces..."

We were at war. The word hung in the air, heavy with implications. My mind grasped at the broad strokes of recent history: Malak's betrayal of his master, Revan, barely a year ago; his subsequent seizure of control over the Sith Empire. I knew these facts, but they felt distant, detached—as if I were recalling a history lesson rather than lived experience.

Yet, surely I had lived through these events? My mission on Onderon must have been connected to this conflict somehow. But the details remained frustratingly out of reach, like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands.

The name Bastila Shan struck a chord within me, triggering a sense of familiarity I couldn't quite place. As I tried to visualize this woman, so crucial to the Republic's war effort, I felt a strange resonance. It was as if fragments of memory were trying to surface, only to sink back into the murky depths of my fractured mind.

The disconnect between what I knew and what I felt was jarring. I understood the facts, but I couldn't connect them to any personal experiences or emotions. It was a stark reminder of how far I still had to go in my recovery. Regaining my full memory, understanding my place in this turbulent galaxy—it would take time. More time, perhaps, than I was comfortable admitting.

As I stood there, caught between the impersonal news report and my own nebulous recollections, I felt more lost than ever.

A sudden, jarring noise behind me shattered my reverie. I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat, to find a tall figure looming in the doorway. It was a young man, lean and lanky, his hand still gripping the door handle as if unsure whether to advance or retreat. His eyes, though polite, betrayed a hint of discomfort—as if he was acutely aware of intruding upon my solitude.

"Please, come in," I offered, hoping to ease his apparent tension. As I spoke, I fumbled with the terminal, silencing the droning newscast that suddenly seemed trivial in light of this unexpected visitor.

The young man stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click that seemed to echo in the suddenly silent room. As he moved closer, I took in the details of his appearance. His youth was evident, but so was the crisp professionalism of his bearing. The dark uniform he wore was immaculate, trousers perfectly creased and jacket adorned with a smattering of medals that hinted at a career already marked by distinction despite his age. In his left hand, he clutched a data block with white-knuckled intensity—a digital lifeline that I suspected held the key to his presence here.

"Thank you," he replied, his voice clipped and formal. For a moment, he simply regarded me, his gaze analytical as if comparing my appearance to some mental image. Then, squaring his shoulders, he launched into what was clearly a prepared speech.

"Sir, we regret having to solicit you under your current conditions," he began, his tone as stiff as his posture. "I was sent to inform you that your next assignment is still effective."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My next assignment? Delivered by a military officer? I felt my brow furrow in confusion, a thousand questions suddenly clamoring for attention in my mind. What assignment? When had I agreed to this? And why was the military involved in the affairs of a simple translator?

As I struggled to make sense of this bombshell, the young officer stood there, ramrod straight, awaiting my response. The air between us seemed to crackle with tension and unspoken implications. Whatever this "assignment" was, I had a sinking feeling it was about to turn my already confusing world completely upside down.

"As soon as you've finished care here, you will be expected at the B96API Academy, the entity to which you belong."

The words hung in the air, each one a puzzle piece that refused to fit into my understanding of reality. A shrug escaped me, involuntary and telling. I shook my head slightly, my face a mask of bewilderment. The young officer's eyes widened, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Well, Sir..." I began, my voice faltering before I found my footing. "Thank you for this information, but... if I may, I'm not a military man. I don't see what I have to do with any of this."

The officer's gaze sharpened, a mix of surprise and suspicion evident in his scrutiny. He activated the data block, his eyes flicking rapidly over its contents before meeting mine again. In that moment of locked gazes, I sensed a shared confusion, a mutual grasping for understanding.

"Sir, you are indeed Corem Galhor?" His voice carried a hint of doubt now.

"That's me, yes." The words felt hollow.

"Well, Mr. Corem Galhor," he continued, his tone a blend of formality and growing concern, "I confirm the announcement I made to you. Four months ago, you agreed to collaborate with the Ministry of Defense, which assigned you to the Academy I mentioned."

The revelation hit me like a physical blow. My mouth fell open, words evaporating before they could form. The officer, seeming to grasp that my confusion was genuine rather than evasive, softened his approach.

"I know, sir, that your health is not at its best," he said, his voice tinged with patience. "However, we have received the results of all the tests you regularly undergo, which clearly indicate your ability to respond to your next assignment. You are expected at the Academy of sector B96 as soon as you are out of here. You will receive a short training there, and then you will be sent elsewhere."

My mind reeled, grasping for something familiar, something that made sense. "I hear what you're telling me, but I'm a translator," I managed, the words sounding feeble even to my own ears.

The disconnect between what I knew of myself and what this man was telling me was vast and terrifying. Had I really agreed to this? And if so, why couldn't I remember? The implications of his words began to sink in, each one adding weight to the growing realization that the life I thought I knew might be nothing more than a fragile illusion.

"It's as a translator that the Army called on you," the young man clarified, his tone softening slightly. "Anyone working within our armies is expected to receive military training. Don't worry, it will only involve basic knowledge for you. You will only be solicited militarily if the situation is desperate."

A cynical grimace twisted my lips. What choice did I have? Clearly, I had committed myself to this path before my accident, and the Ministry wasn't about to release its grip. The Republic's precarious situation demanded contributions from every citizen, even translators.

A hazy memory surfaced: I had indeed undergone some military training before. The volatile political climate on Onderon had led the Republic to arm its officials with basic combat skills. I recalled performing well in those exercises, but that hardly made me a soldier. The disconnect between my perceived identity and this new reality was jarring.

I heaved a deep sigh, resignation settling over me like a heavy cloak. "Alright," I conceded, my voice tinged with defeat. "I will report to the Academy as soon as I'm discharged."

The officer nodded, a sober smile flickering across his face. "Perfect. I'm leaving you a card with all the elements related to your file."

He deftly extracted a small data card from his block, holding it delicately between thumb and forefinger. I stepped forward, accepting the object that somehow held the keys to my forgotten past and uncertain future. As I slipped it into my pocket, its weight felt disproportionate to its size.

"Mr. Galhor," the officer said, his tone unexpectedly warm. "I wish you a speedy recovery."

"Thank you," I replied with a nod, struggling to match his cordial tone.

As the door closed behind him, silence engulfed the room once more. I stood there, mind reeling, wondering what labyrinth of intrigue and duty I had unwittingly entered. My hand found its way back to my pocket, fingers tracing the edges of the data card obsessively.

Finally, driven by a mix of curiosity and dread, I approached the terminal. With trembling hands, I inserted the card, watching as the screen flickered to life. The first file opened, revealing details about me and my future assignments - information that should have been familiar but felt alien:

-------

Name: Galhor | First name: Corem | Age: 33 | Planet of birth: Deralia

Personal status : Single, no children

Occupation : Translator, interpreter

Place of education : University of Bar'leth

Duration of studies: 5 years

-------

Military status: Recruit

Military training location: API Military Academy, Sector B96

Expected duration of training: 2 months

General Officer in Charge: Commander Bastila Shan

Restrictions: not specified - refer to the officer in charge

Last position: Interpreter, Onderon Republican Embassy | Duration: 4 months, 2 days

-------

Current duty station: not specified - refer to the officer in charge

Assigned by: not specified - refer to the officer in charge

Assignment validated by: not specified - refer to the officer in charge

General officer in charge of the agent: Commander Bastila Shan

Duration of assignment: not specified - refer to the responsible officer

-------

Height: 189 cm | Weight: 82 kg | Complexion: white/matte | Hair: dark brown/black | Eyes: brown

Sight: satisfactory hearing: satisfactory

Physical and physiological condition: satisfactory

Psychological and cognitive condition: satisfactory

Suffers from retrograde amnesia after a severe shock. However, not a problem with current and future assignments. Requires medical attention, however.

Psychological condition: satisfactory

-------

Tests conducted by the Coruscant Republican Military Academy - B96API.

Extraordinary session requested by Commander Bastila Shan, validated by Admiral Forn Dodonna.

The B96API Republican Military Academy judges the agent eligible for training.

Corem Galhor #894

-------

I stared at the screen, my eyes darting from line to line, each new piece of information sending a jolt through my system. The clinical detachment of the file contrasted sharply with the turmoil it stirred within me.

Thirty-five years old. Born on Deralia. Single, no children. These basic facts should have felt familiar, comforting even. I found myself desperately searching for some emotional connection to these details, but came up empty.

My gaze snagged on a particular line: "General officer in charge of the agent: Commander Bastila Shan." The name echoed in my mind, triggering that same vague sense of familiarity I'd felt earlier. But why would a celebrated Jedi be personally overseeing my case? The implications were both thrilling and terrifying.

As I continued reading, more questions piled up. Why was my current place of assignment classified? What kind of translator needed such secrecy? And the duration of my assignment - also undisclosed. What had I gotten myself into?

Then the medical assessment hit me like a punch to the gut. "Suffers from retrograde amnesia following a violent shock." There it was, in cold, unfeeling text - the reason for the gaping holes in my memory. But the next line chilled me to the bone: "However, this does not pose a problem with current and future assignments."

How could my memory loss not affect my work? What kind of assignments could I possibly undertake in this state? The casual dismissal of my condition felt almost sinister.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. There was no use in tormenting myself needlessly. After all, I had just emerged from a months-long coma with significant memory loss. It was only natural that I wouldn't have all the answers or details about my situation.

"Everything will eventually fall into place," I murmured to myself, though the words rang hollow in the quiet room.

As I stood there, staring at the terminal screen, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was standing on the edge of something much bigger than I could comprehend. With a mixture of apprehension and resigned determination, I realized that the only way forward was through. I would report to the Academy as instructed and undergo the training.

For now, all I could do was prepare myself for whatever lay ahead. The future stretched before me, a blank canvas filled with uncertainties. As I turned off the terminal, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was stepping into a story much larger than myself, one whose outline I could barely glimpse.

Whatever awaited me at the Academy, whatever role I was meant to play in this war, one thing was certain: nothing would be as simple as it seemed.

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obeymematches · 4 years ago

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(Part 1) I only use Tumblr to lurk and I've never done an ask before, so I hope this comes through ok! You're an angel (devil?) for doing matchups, so I thought I'd humbly request one! I'm Nikki, and I'm an old lady by fandom standards. I grew up in the deep South US (NC and New Orleans), and lived in Italy for a while. I wanted to be a linguist when I was younger, and I still love learning foreign languages. I have a degree in French (cont in pt 2)

(part 2) and I'm now a lawyer, because academics don't pay the bills. I work with child abuse victims, which is rewarding. I love to travel, but I can't much because a) I got court to go to and b) I also love animals, and it's hard to find someone who will take care of dogs, guinea pigs, and reptiles all at once. I'm sarcastic, kind of flippant as a defense mechanism. I'm usually the funny friend, but I get sassy when I'm on the whiskey (cont in pt 3) (part 3!) I'm a big fan of nonfiction books, especially about science and history, and historical dramas on Netflix. I love Netflix and chill with my partner, but I am pretty independent, so I like spending time alone traveling, taking care of critters, or working out. My love language is acts of service, so I show I care by cleaning the house or running errands for my man/lady. (last part incoming!) (last part!) My partner needs to be independent, with a dark sense of humor, who doesn't mind me venting about the grisly and/or weird stuff I see at work. I do like a responsible guy, 'cause I don't wanna be your mama and your gf at the same time. He should also be accepting of weird backwoods southern-isms, like buying taxidermy, saying "bless your heart", and listening to Dolly Parton and Rebirth Brass Band. Thanks! I love your blog!

Hello love!

Thank you for sending in a request! awwwww i’m glad to be your first!

I hope you like the result!

Okay so lets’ see... I’m kind of torn between Lucifer and Barbatos.

I decided to match you with Lucifer!

So i’m going to keep it real with you, I think your southern upbringing would add to this relationship a lot. First I thought it’s super risky to do this but let’s go anyway. I mean I don’t really want to bring religion into this, but we all know their background in the game.

Lucifer would be very wary with anyone coming from a highly religious area, but sooner or later he would learn about your own perspectives. (since you play the game I assumed you’re not the stereotype being an English major taught me)

It would take him quite some time to share his views with you in depth, honestly you have a better chance at getting anyone else to open up about their past than him. But I think once you get someone else to do it and now you already know briefly whats up, he would just tell you himself. After all he takes buliding a relationship seriously once he is truly interested in someone.

I think your academic career and the fact that you are a lawyer would impress him and after he learns this about you, his respect for you will grow. Which is very important when it comes to Lucifer.

Lucifer had quite a lot of centuries to pick up languages. Although he isn’t speaking them all either (i mean he is a demon how many languages would he really need), he sees the value of being a multilingual human. Just to test you, he would sometimes switch between them.

It is canon that he is supposed to be outgoing as well, were it not for his very limited amount of free time. So he definitely understands your struggles to get away, as he is the most responsible demon in the household. Once in a blue moon he would probably get to have a couple of days off with you though. I’m sure he knows people who’d take care of your animals for a few days. (probably not one of his brothers though.)

He appreciates a sarcastic s/o as he can be a bit sarcastic as well. Your flippant nature will only turn him on, especially since you are also responsible so flippant attitudes coming from you hit differently.

Drinking with him is something you probably wouldn’t be able to avoid. I’m sure he would enjoy your sassy nature, he is one of the best at handling that so don’t worry about conflicts.

I’m sure he would be able to talk in detail about historical events as he was there when it was all written. So this would be a common topic of conversation! in a healthy relationship good conversations are a must, so you two got that down as well. None of you is bored! Also I don’t really see him reading fiction tbh, so you are on the same page.

Netflix and chill is up on his priority list as well, so again no trouble on either side.

Lucifer in canon can fall in love with whoever it happens with, but an independent partner makes his life easier. By this I mean that he is usually busy so his partner would be very disappointed if they expected him to entertain them for many hours a day. Sure, he does make time for you so you don’t feel neglected as he wants to be a good partner. At the end of the day he is in love.

He would definitely appreciate your love language! He always needs a helping hand, although he is usually too full of pride to actually ask for help with big things. So basically you’d probably get to do the easy stuff.

His love language is affection so hopefully you are prepared for lots of private times!

Also love language is just something you have to talk about with him, I think for his beloved he is willing to do things he normally wouldn’t. like you need a new dress?? want to hold hands in public?? want some reassurement?? gotcha (ok with some of these he might struggle but he tries so we gotta give him that)

I think he fits into everything you described your wish for a partner. he is mature and respnsible, and don’t worry he has heard and seen some stuff your stories would be hard to compare.

so he has his own sense of decoration and if you look into his room, some taxidermy is just fine... ��

hmmm idk about “bless” in his case because of reasons mentioned above but thats a conversation he will have with you

He is also very keen on music, so thats also a topic to discuss. he is probably more into classicals, but he just wants to learn more about his partner to be able to fully love and understand them. so if it means listening to Dolly Parton, then so be it.

#obey me #obey me!#om!#obey me shall we date #obey me matchup #obey me lucifer #obey me luci #om! lucifer #lucifer obey me #swd obey me #obey me swd

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avgustea · 5 years ago

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Hi! I want to become a translator, but my parents aren't really supportive of the idea. I'm like 2 and half years into my education and they're trying to force me to change my major. Do you have any advice? Also, may I ask what languages you're translating?

hello! very nice to see a fellow translator around here 💖

first of all, i’m very sorry you don’t feel supported by your parents. i’ve had a similar moment of tension before enrolling, when i was torn between getting a degree in biology or chemistry (which my parents were very skeptical abt) and languages. in the end, i thought that playing safe and choosing a path where i’d already achieved some progress was the right thing. i’ve always known that i want to be a practitioner, because i never really had any interest in translation studies.

2.5 years sound like quite some time and effort invested tho, esp considering you’re probably more than half-way through your degree, right? (although it’s never too late to change, by any means!) why not show your parents all of the work you’ve done in those years? especially considering your aspiration to become a translator.

another thing i’d probably suggest is talking to your parents abt the way they perceive the profession? thankfully enough, the degrees in translation have become more interdisciplinary, so the education you receive is, in principle, an extensive one. why not try to show them just that (assuming their attitude is a sign of their worry for your professional future)? that a translator is not someone who just sits in a room full of dictionaries, constrained by the deadlines and the original text; at least not anymore. with your degree, you can go on to work for a publishing house, be a copywriter, an editor, work in specific fields (e.g. medicine, law, finance, etc), work in tourism industry, software development, work for the government or some NGO, etc. there are so many options!

not to sound like a preaching asshole, but like.... don’t be afraid to be bold and ambitious. don’t feel underskilled when applying to jobs you find interesting. having a solid knowledge of theory is important, but practice is where it’s at. find a field that interests you and try to read materials on it in your target languages as much as possible. compare different translation approaches.

again, it’s not my place, but i really hope you get to carry on with your education in a field you are truly interested in. good luck 💛💛💛

also, i’ll be graduating with a BA in Translation with English, French and Portuguese as my main languages. however, i’ve been mainly working with Russian and Ukrainian professionally so far ✌️

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missameliep · 3 months ago

Text

I was so happy to read your feedback, Lori, and every lovely thing you had to say about this story and my writing <3

I have no words to thank you!

I'm grateful to have such a supportive friend! And I'm also glad that even starting with the second part the story still makes sense, because I was really torn between starting right when I did, or just set the begining in the past, when they first met and follow chronologically...

But then I thought: why don't I just tell the readers what to expect, but make a mystery why even though they've become fast friends that one summer, they never got to meet again in the following years and Hamid doesn't even recognize/remember Elizabeth. And just throw some questions there: can they resume the friendship? Could they fall in love? Why there's no Facebook? (I intentionally chose a timeline with before social media for a reason. We're doing this the old way! lol)

All those questions will be answered in the next chapters. But for now, I'll answer yours. (Under the cut because it's long and some things might be a little spoilery...)

When did he move to the UK? Hamid's father is a Turkish diplomat in the AU (a commercial attaché) and his family moved to the UK because his father was assigned to work at London and closely with some important people at UK (let's say the Earl of Edgewater is one of them). They moved to the UK one year after Hamid and Elizabeth first met in the story.

Is he a jock? How many sports does he play? Not exactly. Hamid has a lot of energy, and loves all kinds of sports, then it was natural that he'd engage in some of those in school, but I wouldn't define him as a jock in the common sense of the word. He's enthusiastic about a lot of things, and in the 3rd part we'll learn more about him and some of his other interests.

Hamid plays for the basketball and soccer teams; and PE is one of his favorite subjects in school. He's been in the tracking team before and even tried lacrosse because it looked fun, but it didn't work for him. He's a natural at soccer and has fun with it (which is always an important factor), plays mid-field, but truly loves to be in the basketball team, he's got the height and skills necessary to be the shooting guard or the two (I had to look it up in the Wikipedia lol), because of his speed and communication skills, and he's also a good shooter (specially three-points and this will become important in the story. Kind of spoilery. Mark my words). But he's not exactly a jock. He plays for fun, and is not disciplined enough to give his 100% at trains, or skipping parties before big games, or consider making any of this a career or even a chance for earning a scholarship.

But is he also a good student? Or does he charm his teachers and headmaster/headmistress to get out of trouble? Hamid is a good student, but not great. He usually doesn't skip classes, unless he's sick because he loves to socialize; and he gets good enough grades to pass, but he's not 1st of his class, for instance. He's intelligent and a fast learner, any language he focus on learning comes naturally to him (and he's already fluent in English as we see from the start, Turkish, that's his mother tongue, Arab, French and a little Greek, because Mediterranean), and he's that student who will get an A sometimes in his favorite subject, but also a D because he forgot there would even be a test that day. His mind is all over the place (hormones, and being a teen, and girls, and movint to a different country and etc) and sometimes it gets hard to focus on school. But he's a favorite amongst the students - totally sweetie with the new ones - and teachers. It's not uncommon to charm the teachers to get whatever he wishes either for him or on the benefit of fellow students.

Does he have a girlfriend or just lots of adoring fans? 😏 At this point in the story, just fans. It's not relevant to the plot, but he used to have a girlfriend; that won't be really meaningful when the story starts in part 1, except for the fact that the girls who crush on him are really invested to be his next girlfriend, which is hinted from the start. Since the break up, he's kissed many girls during summer (and didn't forget their names btw because he's not inconsiderate), and he's just trying to be his own person, find out what he wants from life, and Hamid does love to be around girls. He grew up with 5 sisters and that definitely counts for something. And maybe he's still thinking Elizabeth is one of the girls he met during the summer of 2005... we'll learn more about it soon.

Elizabeth is adorable as a kid and teenager 😍 definitely the kind of girl I'd want to be best friends with. So do I! Elizabeth is the quiet girl who surprises everyone with how funny and loyal she can be; and very daring when she has to. At 11yo, she's much carefree than at 15yo, but we'll have some insights of what our girl has gone through.

Oh, I need info on her too. What are her extra curricular activities? Is she part of the debate team? School newspaper/radio? Have you being going through my drafts? Because I struggled a lot with which clubs/societies she should join, and in the new school I was torn between two, and in the end I picked debating and we'll learn a bit about it in the third part. She's just starting school now, and is finding her foot with the extra curricular activities and classmates as well. Hamid will always be a valuable ally, no matter what. In the previous school, she was in the literary society, chess club and debating. She tried the astronomy club too, but lost interest after a few meetings, but loved the photography society.

Is her mom alive? If so, does Elizabeth live with her? Elizabeth's mom is alive, and she lives with her, not with her father. We'll get to meet her briefly in one of the last parts, though that's still a pretty rough draft.

But oh man... How could Hamid forget her? Did she change more than she actually thinks she did? 🤔 Hamid doesn't seem like someone who has Mariah energy She changed more than she thinks she did. Briar will be real about that very soon (tough love!). Four years when you're entering your teen years makes a lot of difference. It's hinted in the second part that her appearance was something that she got picked on by Henrietta and her grandmother had concerns as well, because Elizabeth was a little overweight, not much, but she wasn't skinny like the other girls or how they thought she should be (she was living the transition from childhood to become a teenager, changed countries, school, had to adapt to a new way of life, all in the short spam of like 2 years, lost the place she called home, the beach and the sun, so girl was going though a lot. She may have eatten her fair share of candies and chocolatte to go through); aside from dying her hair, Elizabeth was not a posh girl when she met Hamid, not stylish, you have to picture her in loose t-shirts, denin cyclist shorts and puff undefinied curly hair with strippy highlights like Christina Aguillera (her hair is always the BEFORE in those videos in IG about curly hair and the proper way to style it, the right products to use and right way to make it curl; Elizabeth simply doesn't care. She's at the beach, enjoying her summer, and the last concern in her mind is to moisturize her hair or avoid salty water) and sometimes a cap on top of it all.

When they meet in this very fancy school, with noble kids as coleagues, it won't ring a bell that his childhood friend (who he missed as much as Elizabeth did btw, also spoilery) who told she came from a very tiny and unknown village in England, and lived in a cottage with her mother, could be the same pretty girl who took his breath away. They don't even share the same name as far as he can tell... :)

So, yeah, when she met Hamid she looked quite different, a bit shorter, different hair colour...

And we have to consider that it's been four years, they've met in a different context (and Country) and Hamid never learned she was the daughter of the Earl of Edgewater (oh, that's a spoiler)... and things have changed for her.

Sorry, this reply to your comment became almost as long as the fic!

But I'm truly happy you enjoyed. This fic has been forever in my drafts, and I just felt this need to finish it in a very self-indulgent way, but I'm glad you're also enjoying it, my friend! Thank you so much for reading, and letting me know what you thought and for reblogging it!

(PS.: Loved the Mariah gifs!)

Title: Once Upon a Summer - Part 1

Book: Desire & Decorum AU

Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth Foredale (OC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~2k

Summary: Once upon a summertime, eleven-year-old Elizabeth befriended a boy at a beach. Returning to England in a rush, she didn't even say goodbye to her friend Hamid, and had little hope to ever see him again. What would happen if fate brought them together four years later? This is how their story goes...

A/N: No warnings. Just fluff and teenage shenanigans. To make the story make sense, it's settled in the early 2000's, before social media, the era flip phones were it, the epitome of modernity and style! There will be alterning POV from Hamid to Elizabeth, and so on. Enjoy part 1 of this very silly and self-indulgent fic!

September, 2005.

Every new year was the same, for an entire week the school was vibrant and full of life. The whole days dedicated to recitals, art expositions and workshops, plays and drama reading, and so much more to welcome old and new students to the building that would basically be their second home from September to July.

This afternoon, the school’s sport court was brimming with new students and seniors of all ages, sporting their impeccable uniforms and polished black shoes. The last rays of summer shining on hair and skins and in the happy memories of vacations that are the main topics of conversations these past days. In the imminence of the beginning of the exhibition match, the basketball court was all noisy chatter and excitement, with lines of players in jerseys, echoes of the bouncing balls on the polished wooden floor, squeaking sneakers and swishing of balls down the rims.

Like in the savannah, it was easy to spot the new arrivals, with their awed and terrified looks, like lion cubs, and those who were comfortable in their natural environment. More than any other student, the players were naturals. The kings of this court, one could say, and the ones who attracted most of the attention, especially the ones starting their senior year.

Sporting his jersey with unmatching pride and the widest grin, Year 11-student Hamid, one of the most enthusiastic amongst his teammates for being chosen to play for the main team. Surrounded by a group of female students willing to hear about his latest travels and maybe even catch the attention of one of the team stars, he couldn’t be more thrilled. Or so he thought...

This was the best time of the year: no classes nor tests, no mandatory readings nor assignments, and a lot of time to do what he loves the most: socialize! Hamid loved this week with his whole heart and wished it could last longer. However, if everything must come to an end, the best way is to end on a high note, isn’t it? And in Hamid’s humble opinion, the last day is always the best. Not only it was entirely dedicated to sports, which was one of his passions and gave him the chance to demonstrate his aptitude in a variety of activities, but afterwards there will be a ball with music, dance, and girls eager for the attention of the athletes.

Amusing some of his teammates and a group of girls, Hamid was in the middle of telling a story, when someone knocked over a heavy object near the entrance. Hamid’s eyes flicked to where the noise came from and to the influx of another group of students coming inside to fill the stands, amongst them a very beautiful girl he’s never seen in school and instantly caught his eye.

Turquoise backpack hanging on one shoulder, she moved slowly, long curly hair bouncing around her face. A chocolate brown hair peppered with gold that seemed like the sun itself had kissed it, or maybe had just been following her for the dramatic purpose of stealing teenage boy’s breaths away. Whatever it was, her beauty was so enthralling he couldn’t look away, appreciating the long hair that reached the middle of her back, shapely lips shining with lip gloss and bright eyes. If this was one of the rom-coms his sisters love, the sound of chatter and basketballs dribbling would’ve been muted, and a bubbly pop song would play in the background while the girl glided in slow motion; when the camera focused on him to do a closeup, he’d be looking dazzled, mouth slightly parted while trying to catch his breath – which he was, having completely lost the train of thought mid-word. Nevertheless, no camera could ever capture the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

“So, what happened then?” Theresa Sutton’s question ringed after what seemed like a dramatic pause in the narrative but turned into a play’s intermission. “Did his father notice you two were gone?”

Stunned, Hamid blinked a few times and telling the rest of the story seemed less relevant now that he had a new goal. Offering a wide grin, he clapped his hands, “Well, this will have to wait. Now I have someplace else to go. And a record to beat!”

“That’s cruel, Hamid,” Donna Bowman protested with a pout, but it didn’t deter him.

Bending, he picked up the ball at his feet, never tearing his gaze from the beautiful girl, and sprinted towards Yusuf Konevi, his dearest and oldest friend at England, who was doing warm-ups with some of their teammates. She was glancing everywhere from the benches at the side of the court to the stands, possibly searching for someone, and not once looked his way. Thank goodness, he was confident enough to not let this hurt his pride, and persistent enough to change that game.

Throwing an arm over Yusuf’s shoulder, he threw himself at him in a playful way.

“Hey!”

“Glad to see our star is finally joining us!”

“We’re all stars here,” Hamid said, flashing a grin, “we shine brighter together.”

The other laughed. “Smooth. I bet they’ll make you team captain soon.”

Looking over his shoulder Hamid located his target, standing alone by the stands, and asked in a conspiratorial tone, “Who’s that girl? I haven’t seen her before...”

“Which one?” the other asked before discreetly peeking at the direction he tilted his head.

“The one who looks like an angel recently fallen from heaven…”

Yusuf gasped with laughter. How very Hamid of him to be throwing around corny lines about girls right before a game, instead of warming up. Glancing at his friend before taking another look, he surveyed the faces and there was only one amongst them Hamid possibly didn’t know and fit his type, which he assumes is beautiful long-haired girl in any height, weight, body type, or ethnicity.

“Do you mean Elizabeth Foredale? The one with the turquoise backpack? She was transferred.”

Hamid smiled and repeated her name slowly, savouring every letter like honey in his tongue.

“Foredale…” he repeated her last name once more and hummed. “Why does this name sound familiar?”

“She’s the daughter of the Earl of Edgewater. You certainly heard about them.”

He definitely did. The House of Edgewater is one of the oldest and most traditional amongst the British nobility, close in relationship with the Royal Family, and everything in this county is somehow related to them. And he is almost certain the Earl was one of the stuffy British men with whom his father had meetings to negotiate some sort of treaty when he was ambassador at England.

“Is she single?”

Yusuf clapped his shoulder and grinned, “I have a feeling you’ll soon find out.”

Thinking about the best way to catch her attention, Hamid bounced the ball once, then twice, and smiled. Dribbling, he darted to the middle of the court, standing right at Elizabeth’s line of sight. Making flourished moves with the ball before dribbling towards the three-point line, he stepped back, flexed his knees, and shot. Without touching the backboard or the rim, the ball swished smoothly, and his face split into an ear-to-ear grin at the cheers. When he looked at the stands, the girl had her eyes fixed on her mobile oblivious to his demonstration. But this wasn’t nearly enough to discourage him.

Someone clapped him on the back, congratulating him, and from his place by the benches, the coach waved him and the others to assemble.

When the game begins, I’ll get her attention for sure, he hypes himself on his way to join his fellow teammates.

And this is his best match so far, scoring and assisting in almost all the key plays. The coach is pleased to see him this motivated, and he is pleased that Elizabeth’s eyes followed him. Not the plays. Not the ball. Him.

During halftime, he takes off his jersey, exhibiting his lean muscles and warm tanned brown skin from days sunbathing at beaches at the Türk Rivierası, and swigs a bottle of water. One of his classmates throws him a towel, and he thanks him.

At the stands beside the team’s bench, giggles and whispers erupt, but when his gaze searches for Elizabeth, like it did so many times this afternoon, the girl is sitting by herself reading a book. A large one. He can’t read the name in the cover, but how much more interesting than the game and players can it be? He was very close to take that snub personally.

At the other team’s bench, Yusuf throws him an amused look and teases him. Hamid shrugs and doesn’t let it affect his good spirits.

When the match is over, her eyes are not on the book, but on him. Pleased by the attention, he rakes his sweaty hair back and flashes his best smile in her direction. Like others at the stands, she’s clapping. In an instant, he’s surrounded by teammates and classmates congratulating the team, cheering and chanting they’ll beat their rival this year for sure.

While he’s approached by Donna Bowman and her friends, he gets a glimpse of Elizabeth walking down the stairs and going straight to the exit. By the doors, she halts, sparing a lingering last glance at the court over her shoulder, one he desperately wishes to be directed to him.

The best he could do was play it cool, wait until later, and maybe meet her at the dance. Or even cooler, waiting until classes start next week. But that look has him sprinting out of the basketball court with a silly excuse to not immediately hit the showers.

His sneakers squeak while he runs down the hallways, deflecting students and congratulations.

Down a long corridor, he gets a glimpse of her outside. When he catches up, she’s sitting at a bench, book opened on her lap.

Breathless, he halts a few feet away from her, fixes his sweaty dishevelled hair with a hand, takes a deep breath and a glance at the book from over her shoulder.

The panting catches her attention, and she glances at him over her shoulder, meeting his gaze. There’s no hint of surprise in her eyes as if she expected him to come.

“Interesting reading?”

She bites her lower lip, and nods.

“Very much.”

Placing a cat-shaped bookmark between the pages, she smiles and closes the book.

Hamid takes both as good signs, and peeks at the cover. “Lord of the Rings. Is it any good?”

“You already asked me that,” she giggled.

“Cut me some slack, with all the running, my brain is lacking oxygen…” he laughs, and she tries to stifle a chuckle but her laughter escapes in huffs through her nose. Hamid’s heartbeats quicken at the sight of her smile and the visible blush on her cheeks, the bronzed skin has a lovely pinkish hue, and, in this light, he notices her green eyes have gold flecks.

Pointing at the empty space beside her, she suggests, “Why don’t you sit down before the team loses his star player, Hamid?”

His smile turned into an ear-to-ear grin when he flopped beside her.

“So, you were paying attention! I knew the book couldn’t be more interesting than the match!”

“Hardly. It was a mere exhibition. And I prefer football, anyway. But you played well…”

“Well?” He faked being wounded by her words. “I was on fire today!”

“Oh! That would explain all the shouting from your fans... are you well?”

Snorting with laughter, he gnaws at his lower lip, amused by the quip.

“Unwounded. Except for my ego,” he replied, and grinned. “I’m on the football team too, and we’ll have a match in two weeks. You should come and watch me play.”

Chuckling, she shook her head slowly, and looked away at students crossing the gardens towards nearby buildings. She was smiling to herself, and her fingers fidgeted with the bookmark. That shyness pleases him in an unexpected way.

Trying to meet her gaze, he extended his hand for a shake, “Where are my manners? Welcome to Moorfield School. I’m Hamid Osmanoğlu. Year 11. Basketball and football team. Last year’s class president. Delighted to meet you –” His hand lingered in the space between them, waiting for her to take it and say her name.

Instead of the expected handshake, her eyes darted to his face, and she gaped. There was too much confusion in her expression that he joked, “Haven’t you done this before? Because that’s when you say your name... Saying something about yourself is optional, but always appreciated.”

“You don’t remember me,” she stated a little bit offended, and it surprised him.

“Have we met before? Because I certainly wouldn’t forget a gorgeous face like yours...”

Shoving the book inside the backpack, she got up. “I’ll let you figure that out then.”

“Will I see you again?”

“We go to the same school...” she replied without turning around.

While she walked away, Hamid observed. He was even more intrigued by Elizabeth now.

#feedback rb #lori tag #prince hamid x mc #desire & decorum #choices fanfic

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krispyklene · 7 years ago

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Hey! I just came across your blog and it's been really helpful so far. Do you have any tips for french ab initio? My exams are coming up in november and I have no idea how to go about it. I'm currently at a 5/6 and I never study. So i think I have the potential to score a 7 but I don't know how to study.

Hi! Glad to hear that. If you want to skip past all the things I reblog, you can find my original posts here.

DISCLAIMER: I am completely aware that a lot of people provide advice for languages, like, “Read a lot! Expose yourself to the language and culture!” and while I completely agree, I also find that studying a language for an examination, especially in an accelerated language course such as the ab initio programme at the IB level, requires a certain structure, certainty and thoroughness – which is precisely what my study methods guided me towards achieving. My approach may seem a little rigid or clinical, as opposed to fluid and natural and poetic, but really it’s just accurate, methodical, organised and complete. That was the aim, anyway.

Notes on Grammar

I learnt / practiced how to conjugate regular verbs (–er, –ir, –re), and made a list of commonly used regular verbs in their infinitive form (monter, aider, rencontrer, remercier). For important, irregular verbs (faire, pouvoir, dire, vouloir, prendre, tenir, etc.), I would write them down in infinitive form, and underneath each I’d write out their respective conjugations in present tense.

Know when and how to use the following tenses / forms:

present

passé simple

passé composé (this means you need to know participe passé for regular verbs and irregular verbs – e.g. “faire” > “fait”, “mettre” > “mis”, “prendre” > “pris”)

imparfait

présent progressif

passé récent

future proche

futur simple

conditionnel présent / passé (I always sound this a little tricky!!)

probable

possible

impossible

Grammar rules such as noun and adjective placement are crucial (e.g. it’s “les yeux bleus” not “les bleus yeux”). Know small things such as:

how to form adverbs from adjectives

it’s very straightforward; you pretty much just add on –ment

how to use “jamais” and “rien”

le comparatif et le superlatif des adjectifs

“plus… que…”

“moins… que…”

“le plus”

“le moins”

“bon > meilleur(e)(s) que > le / la / les meilleur(e)(s)”

“‘mauvais > pire(s) que > le / la / les pire(s)”

Connecting words like “toutefois”, “sauf”, “au lieu de”, “donc”, “alors” and “y compris” come in handy a lot.

Essentially, cover your bases.

Notes on Vocabulary

What I did was compile vocabulary for every theme / topic: food, how to prepare a certain dish, places in the city, animals, chores around the house, rooms around the house, clothes, descriptions of people (this is super important – I’m talking adjectives to describe people’s personalities and physical appearance), the environment, modes of transportation, etc.

I made a cheat sheet for other useful, miscellaneous phrases, such as those pertaining to feelings and opinions. Phrases such as “je considère que…”, “il me semble que…”, “je suis un peu inquiète”, “j'ai soif / faim”, “je dirais que”, “à mon avis”, “ça ne serait pas étonnant”, etc.

Notes on Paper 2

Know your Paper 2 formats. Typical formats include informal letters, formal letters, emails, brochures, etc.

You’ll also need specific vocabulary / phrases for formal letters / emails, in particular. Write a cheat sheet with good phrases to use – especially those you might not be able to form off the top of your head – such as “je vous, prie d'agréer, monsieur / madame, mes salutations distinguées” and “en pièces jointes [vous trouvez] / [se trouve] ___________ pour votre référence” and “dans l'attente de recevoir votre réponse”. Stuff like that.

Know how to structure sentences in different ways. For instance, you can say “elle a les longs cheveux blonds” and “ses cheveux sont longs et blonds”. Ultimately, though, if you’re torn between a complex sentence structure you aren’t 100% certain is correct, and a simpler sentence structure that you know for sure is right, go for the latter. "A good paper 2 does not need to be overly complicated; it just has to be accurate.“ Remember that.

Other Notes

In terms of study methods, what I’d do is note down what was said in class, then rewrite and transfer everything neatly into a binder for quick, easy, all-in-one-place reference. It was like my Bible, lol. I colour-coded, too. Red for verbs, pink for definitions in English, green for general grammar points, etc.

I know people recommend Duolingo but it was a little too simple for me (??) or I just didn’t know how to utilise it optimally haha. I used Quizlet for a bit instead. You make your own flashcards!

For textbooks, my school used Panorama. We didn’t go through it too much in class, but I personally found it useful and thus based my notes off that + relevant things from class + random but relevant words / phrases / grammar points I’d Google.

Find past year papers for practice and do them, for sure! This is a must.

Also

I averaged 5-6 throughout the course, but in the first semester of my second year, I actually got, like, 3s and 4s for French. But I pulled it up to a comfortable 7 in time for the IB, so if you’re getting a 5 or 6 right now without studying, you should honestly be fine as it is (assuming your school standards are equivalent to that of the IB). Don’t worry too much and don’t neglect your other subjects!

#mine #studyblr #studyblrs get real #study tips #french #learning french #studying french #study #ibdp

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