#translate diploma to english

[hedgehog-moss]

Top 3 Annoying Translation Mistakes I’ve Read This Year (from least to most annoying):

Category I - lazy calques that let you feel the original text under the translation, not in a good way

(English -> French) In the French translation of Hugh Howey’s Sand (Outresable), the word “robe” at one point was mistranslated as... robe. Come on! In French that’s a dress, the English “robe” is what we call a robe de chambre. And it matters! The protagonist is knocking at his mother’s door and she opens it wearing a robe rather than clothes, which (in context) suggests that she was having sex; when you translate it as opening the door in a dress, the reader pictures her looking put together and wonders why her teenage son is feeling angrily embarrassed. Sure there will be more context clues in the rest of the paragraph, but your translation is not supposed to make it harder for the reader to form an accurate mental picture.

Category II - clunky sentences that make the text unpleasant or confusing to read

(I almost used the French translation of Julian Fellowes’ Past Imperfect as an example, but I suspect the original of being clunkily written as well. Still I gave a couple of examples of clumsy sentences at the end of my review that really should have been noticed and fixed.)

(Japanese -> French) Some sentences in the French translation of Masuji Ibuse’s 黒い雨 (Pluie noire) were so clumsy I had to re-read them several times, including the very first sentence. In English it is translated very neatly as: “For several years past, S. Shizuma had been aware of his niece Yasuko as a weight on his mind. What was worse, he had a presentiment that the weight was going to remain with him for still more years to come.”

In French we get this: “S. Shizuma avait depuis plusieurs années le cœur lourd au sujet de sa nièce Yasuko ; et pas seulement depuis plusieurs années, car il sentait bien que ce poids indicible doublerait, triplerait avec le temps.”

If the idea is that this past worry is likely to persist or worsen in the future, “et pas seulement depuis plusieurs années” is a confusing (and repetitive!) way of phrasing it. It suggests something that extends further into the past, not the future... In contrast, the Spanish translation uses the exact same “what was worse” phrasing as the English one: “Y, lo que era peor, tenía el presentimiento de que esta carga seguiría agobiándole indeciblemente aún durante muchos años.”

Another example (among many) where both the English and Spanish translations use the same simple phrasing while the French translator seems to get tangled up in her own syntax:

EN: “In the event, though, he proved to have shown more care than wisdom.”

SP: “Sea como sea, el caso es que demostró tener más prudencia que sabiduría.”

FR: “Or, ces doubles précautions avaient produit un effet en quelque sorte aussi stupide qu’elles avaient été avisées [...]” This character tried to do the wise / cautious thing and it resulted in something bad, I get it. But the English & Spanish translations are objectively neater and less syntactically muddled than “his double precautions produced an effect in some way as stupid as they had been wise.”

Category III (the worst) - mistranslations that actually influence the way the reader experiences the story or characters

(French -> English) The English translator of Valérie Perrin’s Trois (Three) seemed either confused by or not able to recognise a lot of French slang, which she translated literally. At one point the word “pisseuses”, a derogatory term for girls (yeah it comes from piss) is translated very literally as girls “who wet themselves.” It’s like if the English word “bitches” was translated as “female dogs” in another language where the term is neutral, instead of using a word with equivalent sexist connotations. The word ‘pisseuses’ here is part of a misogynistic character’s internal narration. He’s an adult man thinking of teenage girls as bitches; instead the inexplicable translation “girls who wet themselves” just leaves you baffled.

The same issue pops up again later on, when the same character thinks of an old woman as “la vieille bigote”—bigot means very religious in French, but here it’s not to be taken literally, it’s used as a generic derogatory term for an old woman. The English translation is “the pious old woman”—too literal ! It sounds almost respectful? Or at the very least neutral, when actually the male narrator is thinking of the woman as “this old hag.” Also their exchange had nothing at all to do with religion so you’re left confused as to how he came to think that she was pious.

It sounds like nitpicking but these are pretty big mistakes in that they not only make things confusing but also impact characterisation. You’re not supposed to turn a character’s negative thoughts into neutral ones. The translator does it again to a female character later on, this time with the opposite effect—making her less sympathetic. She is describing her life (married to a rich but controlling man) as “des vacances à perpétuité.” In English, her life becomes “a never-ending vacation”, thus erasing the very strong connotation of prison carried by the French phrase 'in perpetuity’. You could have found some phrasing around the idea of a “life sentence” maybe—we’re supposed to empathise with this character who consciously experiences her life as a gilded cage, and softening the phrase in the translation reduces the reader’s ability to do that by making it sound like this rich woman is just bored with her life of leisure. Sometimes even small mistranslations can end up having a significant impact on how the reader reacts to a story and its characters.

None of the above are awful translations if you take the book as a whole, but all four of these books are by best-selling authors so if they get so many poorly-translated words or sentences what hope is there for the rest...!

[zante-selachi]

Orion who misses his country, not for the people he left behind but for the people

[Translation:

I give it my all, I give it my all

It's my (our) country, it's my (our) blood

Live your life to the fullest, the long life we deserved

This is for you who received my vote

Tryna change the world, give the world a new voice

This isn't my country, it's our country

So just do it our way, our way

It's my (our) country]

Orion sang the lyrics quietly to himself as he sat leaning on a tree, surrounded by the silence of time and the dark of night. He clenched onto the grass beneath him with his teeth clenched, feeling his throat clogging up just from a single song.

His mind went back to when he was a child and how loving the people around him was, how they cared about him but not enough. No, it was not enough.

It was not enough when they let him be treated like nothing the moment he stepped into his home.

It was not enough when they showed concern over his blank, tired eyes but took his family's empty words at face value.

It was never enough.

But,

He remembered those people who treated everyone equally, who gave him extra meals after seeing how starved he was, who cheered him on when he told them that he was joining the military as soon as he was 18.

He remembered those who cried in his hands after he rescued them, who kept repeating their thanks to him, who sent him personalised letters and words of encouragement about his bravery and kindness.

Yes, he was in the military to protect the country and to him; the country was the people in them, not the disgusting pigs that did nothing but bring ruin to the country's hard-earned peace.

"Negaraku, ni semua untuk kebaikan aku. Maafkan kekurangan aku." [My country, this is all for my own good. Please forgive me for my weaknesses.] He choked out as he gripped at his old dog tag, from when he was still serving them.

He left them, both the people and the country because he was a selfISH, USELESS BASTARD- No, no, no, that's not it. They abandoned him first. Left him to DIE. There was no way he was staying no matter how heavy his heart was.

He had nothing to go back to anyway.

[veunho]

Nothing will ever be as fun as coming up with ways to bullshit my way into the ✨perfect administrative resume✨ when all I have on me are a bunch of school mandated courses, being an exploited cashier at a barber shop and being the local nanny.

[feargender]

I think what frustrates me about the whole “they didn’t teach us this in school” “yes they did” “no they didn’t” argument is that like. Maybe the lesson was happening in your classroom. Or maybe the lesson was happening in the room across the hall, because at age 15 you were told to decide whether or not you were going to attend a four year university or pursue a trade, and then based on that decision (which is largely based on your family’s economic status) you no longer get to learn certain subjects.

My second grade class was over 30 students, many of whom didn’t speak English (and in this particular case these were all Spanish speaking children), but there were no more spaces in the ESL class. So my teacher paired the seven year olds who spoke both English and Spanish with the ones who only spoke Spanish, in the hopes that their translational skills would be enough to get everyone to third grade, where there still wouldn’t be more spaces in the ESL class.

In my current certification program, we are meant to do a research project. Just a simple essay. My classmates that I’m personally friends with are 18, 25, 29, and 43 years old. All of them finished high school with either a diploma or GED. None of them knew how to create a basic 5 paragraph essay structure. This weekend, I am going to demonstrate an outline from my own project topic, and we will learn to construct an essay together, and how to format citations.

At a certain point in teenage and adulthood, it is absolutely true that you are responsible for seeking out your own information. “We didn’t learn this in school” is not a good excuse for a 20 year old American who doesn’t know where Palestine is. And yes, a major component of K-12 is the English and language arts portion, in which you’re taught media interpretation and literacy skills. These things are impressed upon all children who attend American public school, which is the scope of my experience and what I am able to speak on.

But those classes are of little use to people who don’t speak the language they’re being taught in. Or if they’re in a desperately overcrowded classroom. An underfunded district without enough text books to go around. Or, after a certain point in high school, you’re pulled out of English because your transcript requirements changed, since you’re not expected to attend a traditional university. The examples go on.

My point isn’t that we actually should never expect people to take responsibility for their own ignorance, just that we should not underestimate the impact of never being taught something, or the likelihood that many people genuinely were never taught.

[petrolstationflowers]

Update 13 Dec 2023: Updated 13 Dec 2023 with a Portuguese translation by David Manaia as well as correcting the Level 10 metrics!

A mortician career for your sims! This was requested by Catrillion and was super interesting to research! Your sim can join it via the Hospital rabbithole and is available from Young Adult through to Elder.

If anyone would like to translate this, please feel free! The English strings are included in the download file, just drop me a message here or on MTS!

I used @missy-hissy's career tutorial to make this and a huge thanks to @zoeoe-sims for helping me with some infuriating bugs we finally got sorted out!

Details under the cut!

This career has ten levels and requires you to level Science and the hidden skill Styling, which can be improved by using the Styling Station to do makeovers at the salon. The skill won't show up in the skills panel, but the metric should change and you can track its level through MasterController.

Since there wasn't a strict progression for this job IRL, I've varied it a little bit to encompass all skills a fully qualified mortician and embalmer would need. There's long hours and extra studies included -- it's not an easy job!

There's no opportunities or books to read, but there are uniforms from the Medical career included, which should show up from Level 2. Carpool only shows up at Level 2 onwards, so don't panic if you need to manually send your sim to work.

Please note if you want to use this, you must have Nraas Careers installed for it to show up!

There's two custom tones:

Study Anatomy (increases Science) Practise Styling (increases Styling)

I've put the levels, hours, and pay under here if you'd like to take a look: Level 1 - At the Crossroads - 10:00 until 16:00, M-F, 10 simoleans p/h

Description: "You’ve always been fascinated by death, sneaking into the movie theatre to watch the horror flicks much too young and reading books your mother would have definitely taken away from you. You have a knack for biology and have followed Olive Specter’s SimTube channel since she first started uploading in the middle of the night. With the job market uncertain right now, why not look into becoming a mortician? It can’t be any worse than EverFresh Supermarket…"

Level 2 - Apprentice - 09:00 until 15:00, M-F, 30 simoleans p/h

Description: "After many days of scrolling through job listings and qualifications in the hospital cafe, you’ve finally found the guts to apply for an apprenticeship. It’s not the best paid and you’re still stuck in the classroom, but at least the coursework is interesting. Now just to pass the exams…"

Level 3 - Mortuary Admin Specialist - 09:00 until 17:00, M-F, 40 simoleans p/h

Description: "You’ve passed your course, got that diploma, and swaggered out of that classroom with a spring in your step… only for your first gig to be doing the admin work at the local mortuary. At the moment you’re spending your time booking appointments and sending emails with the occasional aside of cleaning the equipment, but show enough enthusiasm and you’ll soon be moving on up."

Level 4 - Mortuary Technician - 09:00 until 18:00, Mon/Wed/Fri/Sat/Sun, 60 simoleans p/h

Description: "Your first actual job is dressing and caring for the deceased, making sure they’re laid to rest in the coffin of their choosing and that their funeral is exactly what they and their family wanted. It’s delicate, gentle work, making sure death has dignity. Sometimes it’s the living that need you more; you’ll need a calm voice and be a shoulder to cry on for families who have to say goodbye."

Level 5 - Mortuary Technician Team Leader - 09:00 until 18:00, Mon/Wed/Fri/Sat/Sun, 75 simoleans p/h

Description: "You’ve proved to have a light touch with the makeup brush and know the right words to comfort the bereaved, so a promotion is in order and that means working with the parts that make up a human body. Your duties will include weighing organs, taking tissue samples, and reconstructing bodies so they’re ready to be buried. Make sure you study up on identifying diseases in organs if you want that promotion!"

Level 6 - Senior Mortuary Manager - 09:00 until 18:00, Mon/Wed/Fri/Sat/Sun, 105 simoleans p/h

Description: "Finally, proper pay! Unfortunately, it more means managing your coworkers than the corpses. You’re allowed to sign off on the higher level decisions and have more responsibility, but you didn’t get into this role to do people management. Maybe there’s another path you can take…"

Level 7 - Trainee Embalmer - 12:00 until 21:00, M-F, 50 simoleans p/h

Description: "Back to the classroom you go! Sort of. You’ve put in an application to train as an embalmer, and are splitting your time between shadowing one of your senior coworkers and attending night school. It’s long and tiring, with late study hours for not much money, but it’ll pay off in the long run (you hope)."

Level 8 - Qualified Embalmer - 09:00 until 16:00, M-F, 200 simoleans p/h

Description: "The graft has paid off, and you’ve got another diploma under your belt (as well as a bit more cash, thank the Watcher). You’ve transferred back to the hospital mortuary but this time to work as an embalmer, washing and taking care of bodies and taking all the steps to make sure they’re preserved with the right chemicals. It’ll require careful technique with not only the embalming fluid and syringes, but also your empathy; you’ll need to make sure the family, as well as their loved one, are well cared for."

Level 9 - Mobile Embalmer - 18:00 until 03:00, Mon/Tue/Fri/Sat/Sun, 220 simoleans p/h

Description: "For some reason, embalming isn’t a sought after job – which means good news for you! Work is dispatching you all across SimNation to provide your services, from vampire attacks in Bridgeport to meteor strikes in Lunar Lakes. You’re spending more time in hotels than at home, and while you’re raking in the money, maybe it’s time you struck out on your own."

Level 10 - Locum Mortuary Technician - 11:00 until 15:00, Mon/Sat/Sun, 500 simoleans p/h

Description: "You’ve had enough of the corpo grind and chucked it in; you’re freelance, baby! As a fully qualified mortuary technician and embalmer, you pick up agency shifts and choose when and where you want to work, on whatever catches your eye. If someone wants to pay you good money to preserve the corpse of Bigfoot for their collection, now you don’t have to turn them down for something more sensible. After all, if you love your job, you don’t work a day in your life!"

[salvadorbonaparte]

I know I am already boring everyone to death with this but the thought that a phd is actually not unrealistic???!!

As a kid I wanted to be a scientist and/or author for the longest time, I wanted to go to a university and become a doctor (I'm pretty sure I read something about Oxford as a child and it stuck) but when my life became more difficult this all suddenly seemed like a childish fantasy.

I joined tumblr in 2013, ten year ago, during the darkest year of my life. In my archive (old blog, not this one) I found zero note text posts I shouted into the void about my future looking bleak. One talked about how I like languages but could never become a translator because my English isn't good enough. My grades tanked that year and I was close to repeating a year. Still, I graduated from high school in 2017 with not good but decent grades. At some point during high school I made this blog to motivate me to study and to exchange ideas with other people. I obviously didn't get into Oxford but I got into a decent university abroad.

During the last year of my Linguistics and Hispanic Studies undergrad I realised how much I love translation and how much I always loved translation. My undergrad dissertation had been difficult and I doubted my ability to go to grad school but I knew I'd need to get a degree or diploma in translation to be taken seriously and I lacked the theoretical and practical experience. My grades were good but not great but I somehow managed to get into a pretty good university.

I didn't really allow myself to think about a phd until very recently, apart from some jokes online. A phd was for people with good grades, academic parents and money. My grandparents spent the last year of my undergrad telling me to not waste my time "dreaming" about a job in the language industry and learn a proper trade instead (they changed their minds now thankfully).

My grades are pretty good this year, I'm getting a lot of firsts for the first time in my life. My supervisors are interested in my thesis topic. When I kvetched online about the idea of a phd but lack of money my supervisor enthusiastically invited me to her office hours and gave me funding tips and supported my idea of a phd. My other supervisor asked me if I considered turning my thesis into a phd thesis. She also enthusiastically encouraged the idea and gave me funding tips.

I have started my phd application the other day and I'm only missing my proposal now. I talked to my family about it and they're supportive. This is no longer a distant daydream of a little nerdy kid. This is a realistic option for my future. And in the meantime my blog turned from the lonely ramblings of a depressed middle school student to the less lonely ramblings of a prospective phd student.

[cellarspider]

Qunlat 11/12: Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth Names

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So, if you want a character who scribbled on their own nametag rather than getting one issued with their high school diploma, I’ve got you covered. Time for (Tal-)Vashoth names. There’s no hard rules here, but there are trends we can look at.

Tal-Vashoth are a mixed group–obviously, they left for their own reasons.⁽¹⁾ Some don’t change their name: Salit didn’t, as far as we know. Ashaads one and two from the Valo-Kas may also be Tal-Vashoth, but we’re not ever told. Others may not use Qunlat at all, like if Bull goes Tal-Vashoth. Several Tal-Vashoth names we’ve heard tend to be specific protests of some sort. The two we know are Maraas (“nothing”) and Katari (“one who kills”), though I have a few quibbles on the latter one.⁽²⁾ 

Others? We simple don’t know. Armaas in DAO has an unknown name.⁽³⁾ We don’t have any others on record for classification, this is the full tally.

Vashoth names seem to be a mix of professional titles (Kaaras, “navigator”), possible protest names (Issala, “dust”), while others are concepts or qualities (Herah, “time”, Taashath, “calm”). Many use Qunlat, like Adaar (lit. “throw-fire”, a compound meaning “cannon”), and some appear to use Qunlat but don’t–Apologies to any Qwydion fans thought her name was a Qunlat word, hopefully the phonological analyses in previous entries show that it’s not.

Many of the concept/quality names are closer to what we’d consider “conventional” names: descriptors and aspirational qualities. Within canon, we can guess these likely grew out of the Qunari use of nicknames, but Vashoth have their own culture–or at least we can assume we do, canon has not actually shown us Vashoth culture at all. The wordbuilder in me is both sad about that, and gleeful, because it gives people more license to get creative with it.

Because that’s my goal here. While I can give people pointers on how to make this work and sound consistent with Qunlat as we know it, what you do with all this is your own. Whether you’re naming a character to play for the games or writing Qunlat for artistic purposes, I can’t tell you what fits you best. 

And… that’s it for canon Qunlat, really. We’ve covered all the stuff we can say for certain. The last post in this series will be a condensed summary post so that people can have a reference document for everything, but apart from that? Done with canon.

There are other unexplained things, sure. The most substantive missing pieces are anything to do with grammar: we have translations that imply things like “if” and “then” and “because”, that something “must be”, building similes and comparatives and using ditransitive verbs and evidentials and grammatical use of multiple different word orders and and and--

But I can’t definitively say any of them have been canonically established. They appear mostly in the translations of Philliam, a Bard!, and for reasons grumpily expounded upon before, these are not strong evidence for their existence. We are left with a limited corpus of grammar, and 232 words I’ve been able to collect, and about 40 of them can’t be confidently defined. It’s a language that sounds good, has some interesting vocabulary, but it’s a small thing.

And I decided that I wanted to experiment with it. I took the words we had, made more tenuously educated guesses about the meanings of many of them, and turned my attention to the sentences we had. The English translations implied so much more linguistic depth than I could actually see in the Qunlat, if one assumed the language continued to be very Indo-European. I wasn’t convinced the sentences were soundly constructed.

So I started fashioning grammar from the bones of these sentences, shoring them up into something that could stand on its own as a language, and express complex ideas. If a translation told me that some grammatical feature was in a sentence, I would make it happen.

The result is an extremely different language, using the same sounds, but under the hood it functions unlike any Indo-European language I’m aware of. But among my small group of conlanging friends, it’s been popular. Without trying, I’ve gotten multiple people interested in using it, despite having no prior experience with Dragon Age. We’re able to hold untranslated conversations in Qunlat, with people able to describe ideas I didn’t explicitly build into the language. That means it’s functioning as a living language, albeit a small one.

And I will be detailing how it works. People who want to stick to just canon are encouraged to do so! In the coming days, I’ll be digging into my personal Qunlat project, and how to use it as a language...

...Once I take a bit of a break. This has been a lot, and I have to do a bit of catch-up.

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Footnotes

(1) I remain sad that we’ve yet to canonically see Tal-Vashoth who didn’t reject the Qun, they’re just so intensely heterodox in their practice that they became irreconcilable with the mainstream faith. That’s bound to happen, with a religion that has a central governing body, a large swath of territory that’s difficult to communicate across, and a gradient of permissive-to-strict practice that runs from the edges of their territory to the core.

The fantastic fic Our Daily Bread makes a strong case that the Arishok in DA2 had technically gone Tal-Vashoth by engaging in conversions–something the Ben-Hassrath and Tamassrans would normally do. But that hasn’t been touched on at all by canon. We could have practicing Qunari with radically different theology! Have ones that are basically in line with everything except for one detail that seems insignificant to outsiders and those outside the priesthood, but has huge ramifications for their entire cosmic order. Give! Me! Spicy! Heresies!!

(2) We don't have a strong definitional difference between -aad and -ari, but we know -aad is used for names of Antaam roles (with minor exceptions).  Ari is a more general term that can apply to nearly everyone, including kabethari and imekari, or refer to the entity of a culture. So Katari could mean “the person who kills”, but could also mean “the person who dies”, which might be more likely given the general -ari suffix. Theoretically it could also mean “one who kills a people”, but that wouldn’t be the primary reading. 

So, how might I tweak this? Using the agentive -(a)ad could create Kataad, meaning “one who kills”. But Kata usually means “die” if it only has a subject, and only means “kill” if you give it an object. How would you say “one who dies”? Well! Canon actually gave us a suffix for that, and then seems to have forgotten about it: -(a)th, the passive derivational suffix. Kataath would thus mean “dead or dying person”, or “corpse”. 

(3) We’ve established from Arvaarad that Ar means “to hold back something”, so Armaas could be using the same root word. …I also just noted that Armaas is an anagram of Maraas, which is odd. New names formed via the Daily Jumble, perhaps?

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[helenstudies]

Welcome to my Studyblr! ✨

I've been here since 2014 but well, I never got around to actually introducing myself, I guess? Here I go.

My name is Helen (they/he).

24 year old Queer Capricorn in Myanmar.

What am I learning? Well, a lot of things but mostly languages, literature, and psychology.

I am a native Burmese speaker but I also speak other languages! English (C2), Korean (TOPIK 6) Mandarin Chinese (HSK5) and Japanese (JLPT N3) respectively. I try to keep my certifications up to date but covid made it really difficult.

I'm working towards a Diploma in Pali.

I am also learning Spanish, Russian, Latin, ASL etc and absolutely getting my ass kicked by them.

I'm a freelance translator, writer, tarot reader, astrologist, language study guide, language instructor and a bookseller by trade!

I don't do all of those at once. I just sort of... rotate them if that makes sense. 2 at a time, 3 at a time etc.

I am very hardworking but I also have neck arthritis (Cervical Spondylosis), ADHD and Social Anxiety so it's a struggle.

I also have tons of hobbies. I like reading books, writing reviews, journaling and writing fan fictions etc so I'm all over the place.

I have a lot of stray cats that I've adopted so you'll get to see them obstructing my studies as well!

My life's not very glamorous. I'm in Myanmar. With the wars going on, there ain't a lot to glamorize either. But I'm trying my best to hang on and also help others hang on. So you'll see me talking about free consultations and free lectures and humanitarian aid stuff etc.

I also run a paid telegram channel for tarot/oracle readings with my friends to fundraise for people in Myanmar.

I'm taking it one day at a time.

That's pretty much all of it! I hope y'all have a fun time looking at my posts.

[biggerchallenge]

I lack the research or the way with words to properly explain this, but the argument of american incuriousness is incomplete.

The complaint from the rest of the world is that americans don't know much about the world outside america. The argument by americans is a poor public education system, and the counterargument by the rest of the world is that doesn't justify not simply taking time to research things on your own. But I don't think that's the full answer either, as it's just flipping things back and forth from personal to systemic to personal again. If it were a solely personal issue then it wouldn't be endemic to the population of one country, would it?

I think education is part of it, but it's such a broader issue than that. American exceptionalism has been one of the most effective propaganda campaigns in human history because it captures nearly every aspect of life. What you hear, what you see, what you even taste and smell. English is the lingua franca, the news reports are mainly on things going on in america or countries america is directly meddling with, and the mcdonald's may include calorie counts but it's never talking about the countries it's importing it's beef from. This is america, the best country on earth. This is the default experience of life.

This also ties into the concept of american whiteness. It's not enough to be white, you have to be subscribed to american-flavor whiteness, with anything else being considered a deviation worthy of mockery and derision.

Part of the problem is it stretches outside of America, though I hardly need to explain that to a non-american. An american traveling to another country is probably going to at least be able to find english translations on signs and a mcdonald's. Any country with an interest in tourism from rich travelers is going to find some way to accomadate them.

The internet could be something to change that, but as years of combat over the concept of "net neutrality" may have taught you, America has colonized the virtual world as well. At least now we get to hear more non-americans complain about it.

It is not simply that Americans are incurious, or that their education system is insufficient, it is that Americans are actively trained from birth to be incurious in every aspect of their lives.

I do not ask non-americans to sympathize, because frankly I'm just preaching to the choir at that point. Instead I ask americans to start interrogating more things they consider "default". I ask someone who has more than a high school diploma to put this into better words than I can, or at the very least direct me and others to more sources that have already done so. I ask people to try to fight against these "default" notions in any and every way they can.

[darkbluekies]

Thank you for the compliment Blue! Looking forward to more of your writing and to one day see and read your private stories!

I really hope that I'll be able to show you those stories to you all in their full glory one day♡

they're written in my native language, but I will ask to personally translate them. Hopefully they will find me capable enough with the English language for them to allow me. I have done the Cambridge C1 and gotten a diploma for it so hopefully that will be enough to convince🤞🏻

But I am far from that, I haven't even gotten a publishing deal yet. Haven't even sent in any manuscripts yet. I want to perfect them as much as possible before that♡

I would love to show you some of the different stories, I could translate some scenes. I have some old things I could publish too🤔

[alcestas-sloboda]

oh yeah, actually I got my diploma yesterday. officially a bachelor of english translation now?

[drops-of-june]

SEASON II — EPISODE I: CHANGES

I don’t own the characters, this fanfic is based on the TV-Show Stranger Things (second season) from a Hargrove!Reader POV.

Quick reminder to readers, I'm not a english native speaker, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. Hope you understand.

You are not allowed to translate/repost inside or outside tumblr this fanfic. I will upload the fanfic in ao3, in my account.

TRIGGER WARNING: Subtle mentions of violence.

Summary: The first school year at Hawkins ends. As they say that when cycles come to a end, new opportunities open up.

Words: 6.2K

SEASON II — EPISODE I: CHANGES

'Come on... It can't be that bad.' Y/n commented, glancing towards Steve's bathroom door, which remained closed. 

'I look ridiculous.' 

Y/n was lying on Steve's bed and had been waiting for him to finish getting dressed, which he had already done ten minutes ago but he refused to leave the bathroom.

Steve's room had changed a bit since the first time she had visited him. By then it was a room that didn't reflect who he was at all. It was almost like a hotel room, with no hint of his personality other than a small picture of a car. Too... perfect. Now, he had taken a small step forward, and had studded some posters on the walls. 

Y/n stared at the wall for a few seconds, as the image of Larry Bird stared back at her. 

'It can't be that bad...'

'Electric blue is not my color.' He complained, causing her to roll her eyes. 'And this hat is stupid, why should we wear it?'

'Come on, I promise not to make fun.' She encouraged him.

'Liar.' Y/n, who was already losing patience and getting desperate, pulled herself straight up as she heard the door open and Steve shuffled out, his shoulders slumped. Y/n watched him for a few seconds and in silence. 'Come on... mock me.'

'Harrington, it's just a graduate robe and cap you'll wear for a few hours, it won't hurt you. Besides we'll all go the same. And blue suits you.’

After he took one last look at himself in the mirror, and took off his uniform, they set off for school.

It was a sunny day in late May 1985. The warm breeze brought with it a sense of change and new beginnings as the Hawkins High School seniors prepared for graduation. The basketball court was decorated with balloons and congratulatory banners, and white chairs lined up in perfect symmetry, awaiting the graduates and their families.

On the court, families and friends were already taking their seats. Susan and Neil Hargrove sat in the front row, next to Max, in the area reserved for family members.

In the bleachers were y/n's friends, including Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Grant, ready to cheer enthusiastically. Eddie had fallen short of graduation requirements, so he would have to stay another year. A few seats down, Dustin was with his friends, but he seemed to be the most excited of all, cheering every time someone familiar walked by. Nancy and Jonathan were also present, to support Steve and y/n.

The principal approached the podium and began his opening speech, talking about the accomplishments of the class of '85 and the challenges they had overcome. The names of the graduates were called out one by one, and rounds of applause filled the air.

'Thomas Hagan.' Applause rang out as the boy went by to pick up his diploma and shook hands with the principal and teachers on stage.

'Y/N Hargrove.' The girl walked to the stage with a mixture of nervousness and pride. When she received her diploma, a little chaos erupted from the bleachers as y/n's friends began to shout her name.

'Let's go y/n! Do it for me!' She could hear Eddie's voice above the applause, making her smile even wider.

'You did it, y/n!' shouted Max, jumping out of her seat.

'Billy Hargrove,' Principal Higgins continued, trying to stop the noise.

' Got it, Billy!" Max cheered him on as well, as the audience applauded. Billy walked with his characteristic confidence onto the stage. The applause was equally deafening. Neil, still stoic, but Susan and Max smiled proudly as Billy received his diploma.

Finally, it was Steve's turn. He walked confidently to the stage, and when he received his diploma, he gave a little exaggerated bow that made everyone laugh. His friends clapped and cheered for them once again. 

Once all the students had been named, the principal cleared his throat before announcing.

'I present to you all, the class of 1985.' 

After a dinner out, the Hargroves returned to their home. While everyone was already asleep, the twins were in the kitchen cleaning up the coffee cups that were used upon arrival. 

Y/n could feel the tension in the air. The same tension he had felt for days now. 

Billy had been acting strangely for the past several days, as if he were carrying a secret he couldn't share. Since march, when they both turned 18, he seemed more distant, nervous and lost in his thoughts.

Y/n noticed it right away. She was his twin sister, after all, and she could read him better than anyone else. Finally, she decided to confront him.

'Billy, you're making me nervous.' She folded her arms, looking at him with a mixture of concern and determination. 'What's the matter with you? I know something's on your mind, but I have no idea what it is.' Billy avoided her gaze, pretending to be concentrating on properly rinsing the small spoons.

'It's nothing, y/n. I'm just... thinking about things.' He didn't make up a lie, he knew that with his sister they were no good. He'd never been able to lie to her no matter how much he wanted to, it was almost a skill she had for detecting them.

Y/n frowned, moving a little closer, and looked around in case they were being overheard by Neal or Susan, and lowered her voice, willing herself not to let the subject drop.

'You're thinking of leaving, aren't you?' Billy looked up quickly, his eyes reflecting surprise and a little fear. He shook his head, but the lie was obvious.

'No, it's not that...' She let out a sigh and put a hand on his shoulder.

'Billy, I'm your sister. I can see when something's bothering you. And if you're thinking of leaving, that's okay. I understand.' Billy pursed his lips, his eyes full of conflict. He was surprised, because he thought she was going to be angry with him. Many years ago they had made a promise to leave when they came of age, but things changed when Max and Susan came along, and the plan had been postponed until they found a solution. Now that they were older, they were not hindered by their father. Billy feared that if he told his sister he wanted to leave, she would think he was going to leave her alone with Neal.

'I don't want to leave you alone, Sundance. It's not right to make you go with me either, I know you've accomplished a lot here, and you have your friends. You figured out how to fit in here. But I...' She hugged him, interrupting whatever he was about to say. Silently, he hugged her back. Moments later, she spoke to him still in a low voice, almost a whisper.

'Don't worry about me, okay? Neither is it right for you to stay here alone because of me. This is your moment. You need this, and I'm going to always support you in whatever you decide to do.'

Billy looked at her, his expression softening a little.

'And what will you do with Neal?' He asked, glancing toward their father's room. She shrugged, but with determination in her eyes and downplayed it with a wave of her hands.

'Screw Neal, I'll deal with it. And I promise I'll get out of here too. But for now, you need this more than I do.' She took her brother's hand and led him to his room. She fetched a bag from under the bed and together, they packed Billy's belongings in silence, each movement laden with pent-up emotion. When everything was ready, they went to the entrance until Billy stopped at the door with a thud. 

'Max...' He said, worried. 

'She'll understand. Don't worry.' She told him, reassuring him. 'I'll explain it all to her.'

'Tell Madmax I'll miss her, and tell her to be good.' He walked over to his sister and hugged her one last time, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. 'I'll let you know as soon as I get a place, y/n/n. I promise.' She hugged him tightly one last time, feeling the weight of goodbye on her chest.

'You'd better. Take good care of yourself, Butch. And be happy.' Billy nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

'You too, Sundance. We'll meet again soon.'

The girl watched him as he climbed into the Camaro, the engine roaring in the quiet Hawkins night. She watched him drive away slowly, the sound of the car fading into the distance. As the Camaro's taillights disappeared, Y/n felt a mixture of sadness and hope. She knew her brother was embarking on a journey to a better life, and that was what really mattered.

The cold night wind enveloped her as she stared out at the empty road, lost in thought. She remembered the difficult times they had gone through together, from her mother's departure to Neal's abuse. But she also remembered the laughter shared, the dreams whispered in the dark, and the promise of a better future. She breathed in deeply, feeling a new determination grow inside her. She knew her time would come, too. And when it did, she would be ready to embrace her own freedom and happiness, just as Billy was doing now.

As she walked back to the house, y/n felt an unexpected relief. She knew the wait wouldn't be easy, but she was certain it would all be worth it. She crawled into her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the days to come. Even though her brother was no longer by her side physically, she felt his support and love stronger than ever. And that gave her strength to carry on.

***

1974, April 13. California.

Silence reigned in the Hargrove house. In one of the bedrooms, however, someone was stirring between the sheets. The room had walls painted in a warm shade of olive dappled green and geometric wallpaper in shades of burnt orange and earthen brown. 

The room belonged to Hargrove twins. 

A bunk bed was next to the window, through which a little moonlight filtered in, faintly illuminating the floor covered with toys and books. 

From the top bunk bed peeked out one of the boy's hands, Billy, as he tended to fall asleep all sprawled out. Judging by his breathing, he was in a deep sleep. 

However, y/n in the bottom bed, she had woken up with a dry throat. Not wanting to make noise so as not to cause trouble or inadvertently wake Billy, she got out of bed and went downstairs in search of orange juice. The silence in the house was total, broken only by the light creaking of the wood under her feet. She opened the refrigerator door and drank straight from a bottle, enjoying the cold liquid that calmed her thirst.

As she was about to go upstairs again, she heard a sobbing sound that made her stop in her tracks. Her heart began to beat faster as she quietly approached the source of the sound. The dim light from the kitchen illuminated the figure of her mother, Amanda, standing by the back door with a suitcase in her hand, ready to leave.

Amanda tensed as she heard y/n's footsteps, but when she saw that it was her daughter, she seemed relieved. For an instant, something in her face changed, as if she realized something important.

'Do you want to go for a ride, princess?' asked Amanda in a low voice, with a shaky smile. She had a fresh bruise on her cheek. Y/n looked at the suitcase in her mother's hand and the smile disappeared from her face. 

'Are you leaving?' she asked, her voice full of fear and confusion, with too much understanding for her young age. Amanda nodded slowly. 

'Yes, my love. I need to go. I want you to pack your backpack with the most important things. Let's go.' y/n's heart filled with a mixture of hope, and excitement. 

'I'm going to wake Billy,' she said, turning toward the stairs.

'No!' Amanda said quickly, grabbing her arm. 'It's just us going. Billy can't come.' Y/n let go of her mother's hand, backing up a step. 

'Why can't Billy come?'

Amanda tried to explain, her eyes filling with tears. 'It's complicated, princess. Men have it in their blood. It's better this way.' She seemed to be talking more to herself than to her daughter, as if trying to convince herself it was for the best.

Y/n shook her head, not understanding too much, just knowing she couldn't leave her brother alone. Not with Neal. 

'I'm not leaving without Billy.' Amanda took a breath, closed her eyes in grief. Then she reached over, trying to give her one last hug, but y/n pulled away. 

'Please, baby.' She begged, reaching out for her, but the girl stepped back again. Y/n watched with a broken heart as her mother walked out the back door, disappearing into the darkness of the night, leaving her and her brother with the monster in the house. She felt as if a gaping void opened up inside her. She didn't understand why her mother had decided to leave. All she knew was that life as she knew it had just changed forever.

What happened that night, became a secret between her and her mother. The only secret she kept from Billy, to protect him. A moment that broke the connection she thought she had with her mother, and an event that marked her as a person.

Y/n had learned not to be emotionally dependent on others easily, keeping an emotional distance that allowed her to protect herself. Although she had close friends, she rarely opened up completely, keeping her innermost thoughts locked away for fear of being abandoned or betrayed again.

The idea of fully trusting someone had become an imposing mountain to climb, and though she longed for comfort and genuine connection, she always kept a part of herself reserved, like a reflection of the child who had decided to keep quiet about the truth to protect her brother.

***

The next morning after Billy’s departure came with a deceptive calm. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when y/n got up, feeling the weight of the previous night still on her shoulders. She quietly made her way around the house, trying not to wake anyone as she prepared breakfast. However, she knew that this moment of quiet would not last long.

Moments later, Neal came down the stairs, his expression stern and his frown more pronounced than usual. She watched him as she poured herself a cup of coffee, trying to keep her own expression neutral. She knew the inevitable question was about to arise.

'Where's Billy?" asked Neal suddenly, his voice cutting. She looked up, meeting his gaze. 

'I don't know… did you check his room?' she asked, innocently. Neal narrowed his eyes. 

'If I ask, it's because he's not in his room. His car's gone, and his stuff's gone. It's empty. Don't tell me you don't know anything.'

Y/n shrugged, keeping her tone calm. 

'I have no idea. I just woke up. He must have gone out while we were sleeping. I'm not with him around the clock to check on him.'

Neal snorted, clearly dissatisfied with her answer, but without further evidence, he couldn't question her any further. He turned and walked out of the kitchen, muttering something between his teeth.

Max, who had been watching from the doorway, approached her. Her eyes were full of questions, but the eldest only smiled softly at her, trying to convey calmness. It was a silent conversation. Max looked at her for a moment, and a slow, happy smile spread across her face. 

'I'm happy for him. He deserves to be happy.' Y/n smiled back, feeling a comforting warmth in her heart.

'Yes, he does.' Seeing that Neal wasn't around, she approached Max and lowered her voice. 'He left you greetings, and told you to behave yourself.' Max nodded, her grin lingering as she sat down at the table. 

It was already dark by the time she found herself automatically getting into her car. She felt the lump that had formed in her throat the night before growing larger and larger, cutting off her breath.

In other circumstances she would have turned to Sam, the only person who had managed to break through that wall she had built around herself for protection. But at that moment, four hundred miles away, he wasn't an option. 

The girl's mind was weighing the possibilities. Max was completely out of the question. Y/n wanted to appear strong to her, and it was the main reason she left the house in search of relief.

She considered Gareth. In the months they had been in a relationship, the boy had proven to be attentive and caring. She knew he would understand her, but she dismissed it as not wanting to worry him.

She also thought about Steve. But at the time he had his own problems to deal with, after his father refused to pay for his college. Y/n wasn't looking to be another burden, and bother him with silly things.

She stopped her car at the trailer park and got out of the car with bated breath. Y/n approached Eddie's trailer, her steps faltering. Tears had begun to spill, incessant down her cheeks and her face was pale. With a shaky knock, she knocked on the door. Eddie, with his trademark smile and the relaxed vibe that always accompanied him, opened the door, but noticing that she was crying, his expression changed to total concern.

'Hey, y/n/n... Are you okay?' He asked, taking a step towards her, offering her his hand to pass. She entered the caravan timidly and stood at the entrance.

'Sorry...I didn't know where to go.' She looked inside guiltily but Eddie put a hand on her shoulder.

'Wayne's not here, relax. What happened? Why...?' he asked, looking at his friend. She closed her eyes and he wrapped her in his arms, lovingly, and stroked her hair gently. 'It's all right... you can tell me...' He murmured. Y/n didn't know where to start, so she just clung to him until she could control the sobs a little.

She felt kind of silly for feeling this way. She knew it had been the best thing for her brother, and she had even helped him put his suitcase together, but it didn't stop hurting.

'Did Gareth do something to you? Did he hurt you? Because I swear that even if he is my friend, I will hang him by the ba...'

'No. No. It's not that. It wasn't him.' She clarified quickly, pulling away from the embrace. 'It's Billy... he left...' She explained, and Eddie pulled her towards the table to sit down. 'I know he needs it. Getting away from Neal was what we always wanted...' Eddie was somewhat aware of her friend's family situation, so he nodded silently, letting her talk. 'But...' She laughs lightly. 'I must look stupid to be crying about this.’

'Hey... You don't have to explain, angel.' He said taking her hand, pressing it affectionately. 'And it's not stupid, you were together your whole life... it's completely understandable.' He reassured her. Y/n wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and Eddie got up to offer her some napkins, not finding any, with a slightly awkward gesture he offers her a roll of toilet paper, causing her to let out a laugh. 'Sorry, it's all we have.' She thanks him, taking some and wiping her face with it. 'Would you like some coffee?' 

'I'd love to, thank you.' 

Eddie went into the small kitchen of the caravan as his friend settled herself at the table, trying to regain her composure. The soft light inside the caravan contrasted with the darkness of the night outside, creating a comforting atmosphere.

As the coffee brewed, Eddie glanced back, noticing how she surveyed the space with a mixture of nostalgia and sadness. Y/n curiously observed the mugs and caps hanging on the wall and smiled slightly. It looked like an interesting collection.

The noise of his friend working in the kitchen was the only thing interrupting the silence. 

Finally, Eddie returned with two steaming mugs and sat down across from y/n. 

'Here you go,' he said, pushing a mug toward her. 'I hope it helps you calm down a bit.' She took the mug gratefully and took a sip, appreciating the warmth the drink provided. She looked at Eddie, feeling a little more reassured by his comforting presence. 

'Thank you, Eddie. I don't know what I'd do without you at times like this.'

'Anytime, rockstar.' After a moment of silence. He spoke again, cautious this time, as if he was hoping he wasn't saying something out of line. 'And what will you do now?' 

She played with the spoon in the cup for a moment, thinking silently. 

'I can't leave Max alone.' She began. 'But I'd like to do the same as Billy...though I like Hawkins… I don't know if I'd go far.' 

'I wouldn't let you.' Eddie jokingly admitted, with a friendly smile. 'I'm not like Sam, I'd drag you by the balls to Hawkins again.' He commented, causing her to laugh. She took a sip of the infusion and after a moment, spoke again. 

'I've been saving...it's not enough to buy a house, but...maybe if I find a better job I could get money together faster.' She admited as she thought aloud and Eddie stood up to look for something. 'I hear there's a mall opening up in town. Maybe I'll apply for a job there, they can probably pay me a little more.' 

Eddie sat back down and left a card on the table. 

'A few weeks ago this guy came through the park… he was offering some new caravans, but maybe you can get something in your price range...' He offered. y/n's eyes lit up. 

'Are you saying you want me as a neighbor?' She asked giving him a friendly punch on the arm. 'You're going to regret it.' She joked, making him laugh. 

'It would be an honor to have you as a neighbor, rockstar.' He admitted with a smile.

Even though summer was just about to begin, the heat was beginning to make itself felt on the streets of Hawkins. The sun was shining brightly, promising long, hot days, and the air was heavy with a mixture of seasonal anticipation and laziness. The new shopping center, Starcourt Mall, was about to open its doors to the public, and the entire town was talking about little more than its upcoming inauguration.

In the parking lot, Steve and y/n were still inside the car. She already had experience working, but for Steve, this would be his first time applying for a job. So she kept trying to give him encouragement before getting out of the vehicle. 

'Come on... It's not as hard as it looks.'

'But what if I get rejected? What if I don't get a job?'

'We'll resort to my plan B. I'm not going to leave you alone on this one...'

'What's plan B?' He asked curiously. She wrinkled her nose, and narrowed her eyes, letting on that it wasn't something to her liking. 'Y/n...' Steve had gone pale, looking like he was about to throw up.

'For you it wouldn't be anything bad...' she promised, closing her eyes. A shiver ran down her spine. Opening her eyes again, she looked at Steve with determination. 'But it won't be necessary. Because you'll do fine, you'll see...' She paused, but he still didn't look convinced. 'Harrington, you took on demogorgons and demodogs. This is a piece of cake.' 

They both got out of y/n's car, and started walking towards the building. 

'If it wasn't for my father I wouldn't have to be doing this.' He muttered.

'Steve, don't worry so much. Not getting into college isn't the end of the world. And I'm sure you only wanted to get in because it's what you're supposed to do, not because you really want to.' She said with a comforting smile. Steve sighed and smiled back, grateful for her support.

'I guess you're right... ' 

'I usually am...' She murmured winking at him, and making him laugh. 

As they walked through the automatic doors, their eyes widened in amazement. The lobby was a large, bright space, the polished marble floor reflecting the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling. In the center, a fountain adorned with colored lights spurted water, and they couldn't help but pause for a moment to admire the scene.

As they walked down the wide aisles, y/n felt like a little girl in a candy store. On either side, stores attractively displayed their wares. The clothing windows were decorated with mannequins displaying the latest fashion trends. Y/n smiled at the sight of a record store with a vinyl and cassette section, imagining her friends getting excited to see the selection of music.

The aroma of food guided them to the second floor, where the large food area offered a variety of dining options. From burger and pizza restaurants to Asian and Mexican food joints, the air was filled with enticing smells that made their stomachs growl. Tables and chairs arranged around an open space with decorative plants gave the place a cozy, relaxed atmosphere.

Steve and y/n stopped and parted ways, wishing each other luck. The girl already knew where she would try her luck first.

She entered the lobby of the movie theater, and looked around the place curiously. There was definitely more room than at the Hawkins cinema, and it more closely resembled the movie theater where she worked in San Diego.  On one side of the lobby, there were a couple of ticket booths with glass windows where visitors could buy tickets. Off to the side, near the entrance to the theaters, the concession stand offered a tempting array of popcorn, soft drinks and candy. 

Y/n walked toward who she thought was the manager, a middle-aged man with glasses and a welcoming smile. The man was talking to someone y/n instantly recognized. Kyle, her former co-worker from the Hawkins movie theater. When the manager looked up, Kyle turned and saw her enter. His expression went from curiosity to surprise and then to a warm smile.

'Y/n! I can't believe you're here too,' exclaimed Kyle, coming over to greet her. 'Mr. White, this is y/n, one of the best employees we ever had at the Hawkins movie theater. If anyone knows how to run a movie theater, she does. She's helped me more times than I've helped her.' He admitted, putting an arm around her shoulders.' Y/n couldn't help blushing and shook her head. Mr. White looked at her with renewed interest. 

'Really? 'Well, it sounds like you have an excellent recommendation. Let's go to my office for the interview.' 

The manager's office was decorated with classic and new movie posters, and a small plant in the corner gave it a cozy feel. Y/n sat in a chair across from him, feeling more confident as the conversation progressed. She had answered all the questions with ease, highlighting her experience working in movie theaters in both California and Hawkins. She told him about how she had managed box offices, supervised the cleaning of the theaters, and assisted in organizing special events. Her previous experience seemed to impress the man.

'I see you have quite a bit of experience in the field,' Thomas White said, reviewing her resume. 'That's exactly what we're looking for. We want someone with your knowledge and skills to be in charge of less experienced employees. Someone who can guide them and make sure everything runs smoothly.' She nodded, feeling relieved and excited at the same time.

'Oh... That's too much responsibility.' She started, but offered him a hand. 'I promise I won't let you down.'

When she came out of the interview, she was surprised to find Steve waiting for her. 

'Did you get it?' He asked encouragingly. She smiled and held up in the air in her hand the new uniform she was to wear for the job, folded neatly into two plastic pouches.

'And you?' she asked, curious. But in his gaze she discovered that he had either been unlucky, or else had fled the quest in a cowardly manner. She folded her arms. 

'I've already been told no by three different businesses. I can't sink any lower.'

'Then you keep trying.' She said taking him by the arm. 'You can volunteer as bait for some killer critters from a alternate dimension, but you can't take on a couple of managers?' she asked, forcing him to walk. She stopped in front of what appeared to be an ice cream shop. 

'How about here?' She asked, tugging lightly at his shirt sleeve. Before waiting for an answer from him, she dragged him into the shop and hit the little service bell over the counter. From the door behind the display, a boy came out and upon seeing them he seemed surprised, he seemed to be waiting for someone else. 

'Oh, good morning, are you here to look for work? I'm sorry to tell you that we only have one vacancy at the moment.' He commented somewhat apologetically. The girl quickly shook her head.

'That's perfect! We're just looking for a position...' She said, tugging on her friend's arm. 'Steve is looking for a job.' She said, encouraging him to talk.

'Oh, great... Uhm... If you want, come over here and I'll ask you a few questions.' The boy told him, pointing to one of the cubicles, and Steve followed. 'My name is Ned Miller...' He introduced himself, as he sat down in the chair across him. 

Y/n sat in one of the cubicles opposite, on the other side of the store to give them privacy, but gave Steve a thumbs up as they exchanged glances, to infuse some courage.

After a few minutes, she was distractedly rolling a napkin to near shredding it, when a voice called her name. Y/n looked up and saw Robin, the girl she had met the year before in French class, who was approaching her with a nervous expression. Y/n assumed it was due to a first day at work, but she remembered that she used to behave the same way in class too. She always thought she was a bit hyperactive. She talked fast, stumbling over her words. 

'Oh, hi, y/n! I didn't expect to s-ee you here... here.' She said, unable to keep herself from stumbling over her feet. Her cheeks flushed instantly. Y/n had started to get up in case she should help her, but Robin disguised it as best she could, sitting down across from her. Her voice trembled slightly, and her gaze drifted briefly to the floor before meeting y/n's eyes again. 'Are you here for an interview or something?' 

The alluded, noticing Robin's nervousness and trying not to make her feel any more uncomfortable, replied kindly.

'Hey, Robin! what a surprise to see you too. No, I'm not here for an interview. I'm just accompanying Steve, he's here for a Job.' She gestured with a wave of her head to where Steve and the manager were talking. Robin, hearing this, looked over to where she had pointed and saw Steve in one of the cubicles with Ned Miller. Her expression changed slightly, and although she tried to maintain her composure, a shadow of disappointment crossed her face. With a clearly forced smile, she turned her attention back to the Hargrove girl. 

'Oh, I see. Well, that's... uh, great.' Her face showed some discomfort, and y/n remembered that the image most had of Steve at school, was not the real one she had indeed known. However, she was unaware that Robin had believed for a moment she would be working alongside her, and her mind had begun to fantasize scenarios where they shared chats and laughed together during breaks. Every time y/n smiled at her, Robin felt her heart race a little faster. The thought of spending so much time with her in the same place excited her and, at the same time, made her nervous. And all at once, that balloon of fantasies, deflated with a pinprick. Robin, blushing and smiling nervously, shrugged her shoulders. 'Anyway. If you ever need anything, you know, or if you want to chat during a break, I'll be around.'

Y/n smiled back, clearly oblivious to everything going on in her head.

'That sounds great, Robin. Thanks. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the summer.' She said, pointing to the theater uniform resting next to her on the seat. Robin nodded quickly, with a mixture of relief and anxiety on her face. 

'Oh, yeah, definitely. And, uh, good luck with Steve and... well, all that.' She said before vanishing out the staff door, behind the counter. Only a few minutes later, Ned and Steve walked over to y/n's table. She asked Steve the question with her eyes, as the manager walked towards the room where Robin disappeared. 

'So, did you get it?” she asked in a whisper. He seemed less glum than before, but not quite.

'I don't know, he still didn't tell me... He said to wait here.' He murmured, collapsing beside her. After a few minutes that seemed like forever to the two friends, the door opened.

'Welcome aboard the Scoops Ahoy ship, Steve!' Ned said as he stepped out of the staff room. Behind him was Robin. She was now wearing a white collar and puffed sleeves on a striped shirt, a vest and a high-waisted blue shorts. 

'Do I have to wear that?' Steve asked, pointing to the uniform the other girl was wearing. Y/n smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand.

'Are you going to be this much of a prima donna about everything?' Robin asked. Steve looked extremely confused.

'I'm nothing like Madonna, so that doesn't even make sense' Y/n let out a laugh, Steve frowned at her, as if requesting for backup. Robin spoke again.

'You're going to be fine with the monotony of scooping ice cream for entitled adults and whining, sticky children all summer? What happens when one of your many friends and admirers comes in and you wish you were out there having fun instead of in here slinging another U.S.S. Butterscotch?' Y/n's gaze went from Steve to Robin, and vice versa. 

'I can handle it.'

'Sure you can, rocket man.'

'Ok, ok, you two, settle down.' Interjected y/n,interrupting their bickering. 'We can do this like the civilized people we are. Right?' She asked, and they both fell silent. Just then, Ned seemed to finish filling out the paperwork for the hiring. 

'All right, you two. It's going to be a sweet, sweet summer!' He said. Y/n forced a smile for her friend. 'Steve, let's get you into Scoops gear right away.' He said, as he opened the door for staff again, this time leaving it open for the boy to follow. 

'Yippee' He muttered to y/n as he got up from beside him. Before following Ned, he stopped next to Robin and offered her a hand. 'Hey, look, if we're going to be working together this summer, let's call a truce, okay? I don't know why you don't like me, but I'm a pretty okay guy.' Robin looked at y/n, and y/n smiled at her, causing her to lose the rhythm of her thoughts, so she took Steve's hand without saying anything. And he went behind the counter. 

'I don't want to sound rude, but are you really friends with Harrington?' She asked with a grimace. Y/n remembered when Eddie had asked her something similar. Although they hadn't gone through the shared experience with the demodogs at the time, the answer was even clearer.

'I'd trust him with my life. Give him a chance.' She asked sincerely. ' 'He's not like everyone thinks.' 

Two minutes later, Steve is standing in front of them, with his uniform on, although the shorts he was wearing were tighter than the girl's. And the sailor's cap, barely fitting over his head because of his hair. Robin lets out a laugh at the sight of him. Y/n tries to be more discreet.

'That's...just...wow.'

'Thanks for really upping my self-esteem here.'

'I told you you looked good in blue.' Y/n commented. 

'Can you do a spin?' Robin asked. Steve, frustrated threw his cap on the floor. 

'Steve!' Scolded his friend, and before she could pick it up, Ned did, and dusted it off.

'I'm going to start instructing you on the basics of serving ice cream, okay?' He said, handing the cap back to Steve, and going behind the counter. Y/n climbed onto one of the seats, propping her knees up and leaning her torso against the backrest, facing the counter. However, before Robin and Steve followed Ned from the other side of the counter, the girl pulled a polaroid out of her backpack and snapped a picture of Steve, who was still frowning. 

'Oh, this is perfect.' 

'No,' he demanded, still frowning. 'Destroy that, right now.' 

Y/n watches them, somewhere between amused and concerned. That was going to be a very interesting summer.

[nekoannie-chan]

Eternal love

Title: Eternal love.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Brock Rumlow X Reader.

Word count: 151 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Brock promised to love you forever.

Major Tags: Fluff.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @sweetspicybingo, Sweetheart Bingo Card & square 8:

"Puppy love.”

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammitt @kmc1989 @somegirlfrom

You and Brock had known each other since you were children; your houses were separated only by a small garden.

You and Brock were inseparable. You always spent hours playing in the garden, and you went to school together. He had promised you that he would never leave you alone and that he would always love you.

Until the day he told you he wanted to become a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, he had always been good at sports, but in the end, he convinced you to enter the academy together; you had never been apart.

Just on graduation day, after receiving your diplomas, he took you somewhere, away from everyone, and that's when he asked you to marry him.

Now your only worry was that on the day of the wedding, there wouldn't be an emergency mission or something to ruin it, but fortunately, everything went perfectly.

Brock always kept his promises.

[madfantom]

In addition, I am working on university Diplomas of Higher Education. One is a diploma in basic education, and the other is a second higher education. The theme of the first is a series of illustrations to Russian fairy tales.

Here is a piece of a sketch of one of the approved works on the theme of the The Tale of King Saltan (Literally, the name of the fairy tale translates as it. But i found localisation for English And there it was called The Prince and the swan)

The second diploma in the interior of a two-storey apartment. The theme will be in the Art Deco style, but so far only the initial stage of visualization