i know every line word for word

you know the problem with you is uh words, words lack the parameters to accurately describe how I feel about you, but maybe this will help: every night, I have a recurring dream. it’s you, sleeping in ya bed. and it’s me, with a pair of garden shears.

I’m not gonna transcribe the entire thing right now but yes that was definitely a good ep

“What was she like?” My mother asked trying not to pry to much but always failing.


“Beautiful”


“Beautiful was she?” she said.


“Yes. Absolutely beautiful.”


“But I wouldn’t describe her as strictly beautiful. Cause well she more than beautiful. She was funny, smart, down to earth, rewarding, thoughtful and beautiful. She was every nice word in the dictionary. Admiring, charismatic, appealing and down right unforgettable once you knew her. Even if you didn’t know her she was unforgettable cause even if you talked to her for 5 minutes while waiting in line for coffee it felt like talking to an old friend. So yeah… she was beautiful or gorgeous. Whatever word you choose to your liking. But she was never just strictly beautiful.”


“So what do you call her then? What do you call her if she is every good thing that’s happened to you.” My mother asked.

“Extraordinary. She was extraordinary”

—  Love, heartbreak & everything in between.// Deeply feeling series
10

hi! i’m shout. im a freelance pixel artist. ive been around for like 4 years now helping people make video games and sometimes things that arent video games. anyway, i specialize in stupid anime bullshit

i’m opening commissions to tumblr again for pixel art, for gamedev and otherwise, which really just means that i’ll do like standalone avatar portraits and vanity shots if you pay me, too

(it went well the first time, so the second round should be even better, right?)

my rates start at 10usd / 32x32 sprite + 5usd / additional animation frame / tile + 20usd / character design, but for large projects like video games ive been known to put out discounts and for very complicated characters (like, for instance, if you want me to draw and animate a 64x64 tetsuya nomura character) (’ses zippers) i tend to markup. i also markup slightly for sprites with a larger base resolution then 32x32, but can do pretty much any scale from like 8x8 to like 96x96 (and really at that point it’s not even pixel art anymore, just really fuckin small raster art)

(if you want, i can usually provide sketches of any characters you have me design, as well)

i’m also an experienced game maker dev (going on like, 6 years at least) so inquire within about other gamedev work, in case you want my expertise (not just my art) (please do both, though) on a game you’re working on

if you have questions, dont be afraid to just speak up, by the way! like, i dont bite. i mostly just talk about cel animated anime and say the word ‘xabungle’ over and over like im trying to summon it in a mirror

you can also reach me at shout#6597 on discord, and shoutscion@gmail.com if you genuinely enjoy writing and sending emails or somethin

Advice for native speakers of a language when encountering foreigners learning their language

Of course this is aimed at people who want to help others learn their native language. It’s based on personal experiences from when I first came to France. If the language learner you meet is advanced and speaks fluently you might not have to do any of these. But I think they’re good to keep in mind when meeting new language learners.

1. Slow down a bit. Don’t do that thing often shown in movies where people speak super loud and as if in slow motion. Speaking super slow doesn’t help much with understanding or learning and shouting is useless unless you’re in a noisy environment. Just slightly slow down your normal talking speed, it makes it easier to recognize more individual words and phrases. And maybe dial down on colloquialisms a bit at first.

2. Give the person time to process what you said. Sometimes it can take a few moments to realize what was just said to us when we don’t speak the language well (even if the person is speaking slower than their normal speed). So don’t just assume the person didn’t understand you if they don’t respond immediately, give them a moment first.

3. Ask if they understood what you said once in a while. Also offer to repeat or explain things. Some people won’t have a problem letting you know if they didn’t understand a word or a phrase, but others might feel bad asking you to repeat yourself multiple times (I know I do). So just ask every once in a while to make sure they’re still following you.

4. Use simple words to explain things. If the person is just starting out with their language learning then they don’t have a large vocabulary so using unnecessarily long sentences filled with fancy words will just confuse them even more. Simpler is always better.

Example: I once had to call a phone company’s help line to resolve an issue. I told the person I didn’t speak French very well, carefully explained the problem and he spent ten minutes talking at normal speed, explaining something to me and I didn’t understand a word. When I told him I didn’t understand he spent even longer repeating what he said and going in even more detail and I still had no idea what he was saying. I was too embarrassed and didn’t want to spend twenty more minutes on the phone with this guy so I just told him I got it and hung up. The next time I called, someone else answered and they explained it to me clearly in a fraction of the time and I understood them perfectly.

So keep your explanations short and simple.

5. If they can’t think of a word in your language and say it in another language you have in common, tell them the word in your language before moving on with the conversation. So many times people have just nodded in understanding and moved on with the conversation without telling me the French word when I’ve used an English word for something in the middle of a sentence. It can be a bit frustrating to have to interrupt the conversation to ask for clarification after every sentence (and for those of us on the shy and/or socially anxious side it’s also nerve-wracking). Conversations will flow much smoother if you just throw in the translation of the word in your language and then move on. Also

6. Don’t automatically switch to another common language after they use a word or a phrase from that language when they can’t think of them in your language. Ask first. It might be easier for both of you, but it doesn’t help them learn your language. If you want to practice that other language with them then make a deal about when you’re going to speak which language with each other. That way you’ll both get to practice your target language. So just ask them if they want to continue in that language, but don’t switch without asking. Again, some people will be more than comfortable in telling you which language they’d rather be speaking in, but others might not.

That’s all I can think of for now. Feel free to add your own advice

What if I can’t love you the way you deserve to be loved? Maybe that’s why we should go our separate ways and that this is a good thing, maybe that’s the silver lining.

You deserve someone who can give you more than you could ever know, more than this world could ever offer. You carry a very beautiful soul that should be cherished with every inch of love that exists, even if you don’t believe that.

And maybe I can’t do any of that.

Maybe it’s just not me.

—  c.f. // “I guess this time it was me”
Fair Ravenclaw

We are Ravenclaw.
We are blue and bronze.
We are the whistling of the wind.
We are clouds and dust.

We are the sunrise and witty lines.
We are the pens that are mightier than the swords.
Sometimes our patience is shorter than our laughs.
Sometimes our words are harder than our bones.
We know. We’ll apologize.
We are the dealers of stories and keepers of legends.
We pay in riddles and trade in ballads.
We are the poems from ancient times and the songs you’ll sing in decades.
And we’ll be just and old and wise.

And forgotten.

Every book has a last chapter.
A last page. A last line. A last word.
And sometimes I don’t want to go.
Sometimes I don’t want to close the book.
I don’t want to forget.
But that’s all I can do, the voice yells at me.
That’s all I am there for.

Sometimes I tell a fairytale. And I stop in the middle.
Sometimes my words are stuck in my throat.
And I look at friends and see them wonder:
Does she really believe all that?
And I can’t help but think:
Should I not believe in it?

And the voice goes:
No.
You.
Shouldn’t.
You.
Are.
No.
Child.

And it hurts.
So much.

But then you are there.
With hope in your eyes.
And a laugh on your face.
And you are reaching out to me.

And you ask:
“Can you tell me a story?”

And I could cry.

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank. You.

And I nod.
Because yes.
I believe in this.
In those stories
And fairytales
And myths
And legends
And dreams.

And how they will be told in times of trouble.
How they will be whispered around the fire.
How they will conquer the world long after my story has ended.

But for now…

Let me tell you a story.
Because in the end,
We are all stories.
We are the ravens flying high.
We have our head in the clouds but are down to earth.
So let’s make it count.
I know we can.

{But please, don’t haunt me.}

The Voicemail, Part 3

Title: The Voicemail, Part 3
Author:  @piecesofscully
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Pre-Revival
A/N: This is an unbeta’d quickie continuation of a series written with @kateyes224 .  Please read parts 1 and 2 listed below, so that you have an idea of what the hell is going on. 

The Voicemail written by me

The Voicemail, Part 2 written by @kateyes224


With each step she takes, shooting pain jolts through the center of her heels as she finally enters her dark apartment.  There’s a staleness to the silence now, a product of entering single-living territory again, a lifestyle of chosen loneliness she hasn’t experienced for many years.  Each minute of her thirty-six hour shift sits heavily in her lumbar region, aching with ferocity as she shrugs off her coat and slings it over the back of a rarely used dining room chair.

Her phone pings loudly, its alert slicing through the quiet to announce a missed call and a voicemail.  She glances at the notification, fully expecting to see another summoning from the hospital, and she grips the chair as her knees buckle.  

Mulder.

Her cheeks flush pink with brewing embarrassment as she thinks back to a few weeks earlier, snippets of a drunkenly induced voicemail she had left him run muddily through her mind.  She had been drinking that night with the sole intention of getting drunk, an impulsion she hadn’t conceded to since her rebellious teenage years, and played his voicemail thirteen times, having memorized each line around the seventh or eighth. Each time she hit ‘replay’ she was another vodka and splash of cranberry juice deeper, soaking in every venomous word he spoke.

She has no memory of thumbing through her contacts and finding his number, or pressing the ‘call’ button.  She doesn’t remember hearing it ring or being directed to voicemail.  The words that had erroneously poured from her liquored mouth, however, come back in hazy fragments.

 “I wanted to abort my son.  You know why?  Because you were gone.”

 “How do you find a way to be everything and nothing to me at the same time?”

 “I hate that I love you.  I hate myself for loving you.  You’re like a disease.”

Keep reading

Writing woes

Warning for probable tiny-violin playing and entitled whining. I’m sorry.

I need some help.

Lately I’ve been feeling really, really off about my writing. I have a 12x12 coda sitting around and I don’t even want to put it up. I have things on the burner that I’m not writing. And the other day someone commented very sweetly on a fic of mine and when I went to respond I saw that it had at least 4 typos. And the writing itself was so… garbage. 

I mean it’s all so list form - A happened. Then B. Then C. 

It’s so utterly dull and uninspiring and I hate every single word I’ve put down so much that if it wasn’t on the internet I’d probably flounce dramatically and put it all in a fire. 

I enjoyed writing.. at the start. I didn’t know what I was doing so I was happy to just do it. But now I know what BAD WRITING is, and most of mine comes under that category so now I’m just freaking out over every word I put down. 

It’s just. somewhere down the line I’m not enjoying it anymore. I care too much about how it’s supposed to be than just letting it flow and I know that’s wrong but I also don’t know how to break the habit.

So what I want help with now is -

What do I do?

Should I take a break for a couple of weeks? Or fake it till I find my mojo again?

What do you guys do?

3

Awakened Destiny- Part 6

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You’d been driving for just over an hour until Steve pulled the car into what looked like some abandoned warehouse. Your eyes moved to Bucky’s head resting on your shoulder before you gave him a gentle nudge, waking him before the car stopped.

It took no time before Steve quickly got out to open your door, giving you a small reassuring smile and a nod to Bucky. You grabbed Buck’s hand as you pulled yourself out of the car, your head turning as you heard the loud engine of the impala; watching as Sam and Dean pulled up behind you. You always loved that damn car.

“This way” Sam Wilson yelled out so Sam and Dean could hear as he walked ahead of you, reaching to the bottom of the roller door and pulling it up to reveal the inside of the warehouse.

Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you walked inside, raising an eyebrow as you looked around. You looked over to your right, noticing weapons and gear laid out on a steel table. Your eyes focused on Steve’s shield first before noticing the more dangerous weapons… you soon realized this wasn’t going to one of the regular fights you were used to.

Keep reading

My theory is entropy.
This isn’t supposed to make sense.

That’s the only way I can find to explain you. Explain that I am…
Drowning:
While you remain safely on the shore, wondering why I’m all wet

Some stories just don’t have endings–the dissipation of matter beyond its present state, expanding further and further into the far reaches of the unvierse.

I can’t figure this out. I can’t figure out why I can feel all of this, can feel my very atoms being rearranged into loving you, and not be loved back.

I can’t figure out why I’m getting torn apart by the very force that holds humanity together.
How is it that I can go through so much in life, and I am defined by my capability to feel this kind of pain? How is it that I could tell any story, but this is the only one I can’t stop telling?
I know I am contributing to the flux of the universe,
with every broken line.

I am matter, I matter,
my mass
is equal to
the weight of the words you say,
and
the ones I write
My volume is
the sound of my heart breaking.

entropy–How you have undone me,

—  Entropy (II)
A Grocery Store Saviour

Request: Omg i love your writing sooo much <3 I was thinking if you could do a story based off Michael Buble’s ‘Just Haven’t met you Yet’. I understand if you wouldn’t want to do it but thank you for your time :)

Word Count: 2,852

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous but also tagging @dont-give-a-bother @red-roses-and-stories and @caseoffics


“Next!” You call, back aching and feet sore. Work usually sucks, but today it’s a living hell. Saturdays are the normally busiest days at the grocery store but add the fact that it’s the first day of spring that’s warmer than 50 degrees, and you’ve got yourself a full store. The bustle of people weaving around one another in the narrow aisles meant that you’d been sent to clean up five separate messes and help one bawling seven-year-old find his mother. His snot covered fingers had wrapped around your own until you’d found his mother who’d immediately decided to yell at you for not bringing him sooner. People bumped into you with every turn, resulting in scowls and foul language from some particularly angry customers. You’d had to ask people to repeat themselves four different times because of the clamor and been asked because of that if it were really right for a woman to be working. On top of all that, you wore heels today so your feet want to fall off and the store’s air conditioning hardly works, meaning hot sweat drips down your back and soaks your hairline.

Despite the annoying customers and the math involved, you’re almost grateful to work at the cash register now instead of work on the floor when you hear the horrific sound of gagging nearby. Your coworker Arthur rushes past you, mop already in hand.

Raising your eyebrows at the situation, you shake your head and take stock of everything a middle-aged man in front of you sets on the counter. He wears a dark suit and a cap to hide what you assume is a balding head. He’s muttering something to himself as thick beads of sweat slide down his face, over the patches of red dotting his cheeks and forehead and collecting on his upper lip. Every time he says something, a bead flings off its place above his lip, landing on the counter in front of you.

You cringe but reach for his items and pull them closer. Flipping the page on your notepad, you begin writing the costs of everything down.

“Do you not bother to keep your customers happy here?”

Keep reading

The Discrepancy

How the hell did we not notice this before…? Of course Sherlock’s been in a coma since the fall. Because in Anderson’s and that girl’s theory, Lazarus and the Actual scene, what is the same? Ok, not the exact same in every one but… this line, is said in each one:

‘Please, will you do this for me?’ 

Both in Anderson’s version and the Actual scene, the rest is said exactly the same. (Do what? This phone call, it’s, um, it’s my note. It’s what people do, don’t they? Leave a note. Leave a note when? Goodbye, John.)

The girl’s is slightly different because her’s is some kind of- I don’t wanna think about it. And Lazarus doesn’t have the full speech ‘cause Sherlock is showing off.
Anyway, the point is, the only people who should know what was said, word for word (and the exact way it was said) are John and Sherlock. (And in Anderson’s version, it is said exactly the same, including the little ‘um’). Which points in the direction of EMP because no one else could know. And I honestly don’t think John would have shared Sherlock’s last words.

It was right there, in TEH, right in front of us, all this time.

 @not-a-bit-good (Tagging ‘cause I wanna see your opinion on this)

3

both art and writing commissions are open

if you’re wondering who tea hope is, hi that’s me. i have lots of blogs, the active ones i run individually being @annaveth​, @sadrien​, @katsukiyurj​, @altaya​, and @lesmiserablc​. i just finished my senior year of high school and am having some trouble finding a summer job. i have to pay for college so here we are

for the time being, i’m going to open 3 slots for art commissions and 3 slots for writing commissions. i’ll open commissions again when i finish the first batch, and i may be changing the amount of slots as time goes on

if you’re interested in commissioning me, please email me at teahopeb@gmail.com. if you have any questions, you’re welcome to either send me an ask to any of my tumblrs or send me an email!

there’s a bit of different information for art commissions v writing, so to see more details, please read below the cut

Keep reading

When the Ink Dries IV

Rated: Explicit

Notes:  Thank you again to the usual brilliant beta’ing suspects, @icedteainthebag, @h0ldthiscat and @gazeatscully.

If you haven’t read the previous parts, go here.

*

Chapter 9

The first time Mulder came close to telling Scully he loved her was not the night Stella told him to do so.  It was also not over a bouquet of flowers at a candlelit restaurant, the two of them smiling nervously at a wobbly table as a waiter placed a plastic pie slice under the leg.  It was not on a navy blue night beneath the stars, backs against the warm hood of a car, her gaze following his finger in awe as he pointed here and there.  It was not sitting side by side in a movie theater, her little hand reaching over to place pieces of popcorn on his tongue while he pretended to be annoyed that she wouldn’t let him hold the tub.  It was none of the times or places Mulder had been telling himself he was waiting for.  

Instead, it was in a standard-issue Ford Taurus the color of a curbside TV screen, seats that stunk of the four-month-old coffee spill that was still holding a grudge over its gruesome demise.  Mulder was driving under the influence of a splitting headache having lost a coin toss.  It was one of those days they’d come up so short, run in such perfect circles, that neither of them could face the finality of turning that key, pulling up that emergency brake.  

Of course, sometimes Scully’s mere presence, her sticky red lips and stiff-postured strut, was enough to make unromantic settings seem romantic.  After all, that’s how he’d fallen in love with her in the first place.  Freezer lockers in Alaska, rocks in the middle of monster-infested lakes, sometimes even his crusty basement office went pink and fuzzy late at night when she looked up at him a certain way.  This wasn’t like that either.

Yes, he’d almost gotten high on a single toke of her perfume when he leaned over her shoulder to study the gravesite earlier, but that cautiously applied dab had long faded.  And yes, he’d pretended this morning that the umbrella was narrower than he knew it to be just so he could hook his arm around her waist and iron the curve of it against him, but that drizzle had long since dried up.  By the end of the day, she was just his partner, someone who argued with him compulsively and who always had to pee and yet still never wanted to stop when he did, someone he’d have been happy to hand a bus pass had there been any buses to take.  

She slouched beside him performing a symphony of chap-lipped sighs as the radio station – the one she’d decided was her best and only hope about ten minutes ago –  failed her with its sorry static and decades-old songs, the stubborn soundtrack that belonged to every dark, lonely stretch of land he’d ever been to.  The last thing he expected, fifty miles from the nearest sign of civilization and twelve hours from the nearest decent mood, was to remember he loved her.

Keep reading

I’m forever yours, faithfully

Originally posted by uncollectively

A/N: This was requested by crystalbaby12. I hope you enjoy!

Request: “Can you please do an imagine with Jax based off the song Faithfully by Journey. Love your writing btw!! 😍 Keep it up! ☺”

 

Highway run, Into the midnight sun, Wheels go round and round, You’re on my mind, Restless hearts, Sleep alone tonight, Sending all my love, Along the wire.

 

Jax was currently on a run with the club while I was home nine months pregnant. Gemma would come check on me frequently while Jax was gone but it wasn’t the same as when he was here. I was currently getting ready for bed when my phone began to ring.

“Hello?” I questioned into the device.

“Hey, darlin’. How are you?” A smile immediately spread across my face at the sound of Jax’s voice.

“I’m alright besides the baby kicking me every chance he gets, how about you?” Jax chuckled before responding.

“Ehh, I’m not the same without you here. I miss you,” I smiled at his words.

“I miss you more,” I said while sliding into bed. “I hate sleeping when you’re not here,” Jax sighed, I held the phone close while silence filled the line.

“I know baby, just three more days and I’ll be back with my arms wrapped around you,” My heart filled with warmth at the sound of his words.

“I know baby, I should let you go. It’s getting pretty late,” I said before yawning. Jax chuckled as he spoke.

“Alright, baby. I love you forever and always,” I smiled one last time.

“I love you forever and always,” We hung up the phone while I reached over and laid my phone on the bedside table.

I closed my eyes with sweet dreams of Jax filling my head.

They say that the road, Ain’t no place to start a family, Right down the line, It’s been you and me, And lovin’ a music man, Ain’t always what it’s supposed to be, Oh, girl, you stand by me, I’m forever yours, Faithfully.

 

Two more days. Just two more days.

I hated when Jax had to go on long runs especially while I’m pregnant. I always feared that he would miss the big moments of my pregnancy, especially my doctor’s appointments but he never did. He always made sure he was home.

I’ve had people tell me time and time again that I shouldn’t start a family with a man who is constantly on the road but I never listened. Jax was a faithful man and I knew he would never cheat and he knew I never would cheat. I loved Jax with all my heart and I knew he loved me with all his heart. It has always been me and him and it always is.

I was sitting at the kitchen table sipping on a bottle of water when my phone went off.

It was Jax.

He had been trying to face time me. I accepted the call as his face soon popped up onto my screen.

“Hey, baby!” A big smile came across my face when I saw him.

“Hey, Jax!” I said with the same amount of enthusiasm as him.

“How’s my baby mama feeling?” Jax said as I moved the camera away to reveal my beach ball size of a belly.

“Oh, you know, just sitting here with another human inside of me,” Jax chuckled at me before speaking up.

“God, I think you’ve gotten sexier since I last saw you,” I blushed at him before speaking up.

“Oh God Jax! Shut it!” I said while giggling.

“It’s true baby! I can’t wait to get home and ravish that body,” Jax said with his usual Teller smirk.

“How could you possibly want me when I look like this?” I questioned while Jax had a proud smile come over his face.

“How could I not? I mean look at you! You’re as beautiful as the day I met you and no pregnancy is going to change that,” I blushed again as a big smile spread across my face.

“Jax Teller, you always know how to make me smile,” Jax smiled proudly before I spoke again. “I soon have to go because your mom wants to go shopping for more baby stuff but I wanted to ask you something,” Jax nodded for me to continue. “I know the rule, what happens on a run stays on a run but have you been faithful?” I felt my heart skip a little faster as I awaited his reply.

“Yes, I have. I would never cheat on you. For one, I would lose that sexy body you have, for two, I love you too much to do it and for three, well, my third reason is sitting on your fourth finger,” I smiled at his honesty before glancing down at my engagement ring. A knock came to the door and ripped me away from my thoughts.

“Thank you, baby, I too have been faithful for the same reasons as you and also for the fact that I am nine months pregnant but I do have to run baby, your mom’s here.” Jax nodded before responding.

“Alright, I love you forever and always,” I smiled at him once more.

“I love you forever and always,”

Circus lives, Under the big top world, We all need the clowns, To make us smile, Through space and time, Always another show, Wondering where I am, Lost without you.

 

The club life is never easy. No matter how good you think you got it something will always arise and it usually happens with a bang. They always happened at the most inconvenient of times.

This bang wasn’t as big the ones we’ve had before. This time was the most inconvenient especially since my due date was a day away and Jax was supposed to be home tomorrow.

My phone rang. ‘UKNOWN CALLER’ appeared on the screen. I furrowed my brows while beginning to reach for my phone to answer the call.

“Hello?” I questioned hastily.

“Baby, it’s me,” I felt my heart leave my throat and my stomach drop at the sound of Jax’s voice.

“Oh, baby it’s just you. What happened to your phone?” I questioned confused.

“I had to get rid of it, our phones were rigged by the Mayans and now we’re having a bit of trouble,”

“Trouble?! What kind of trouble?!” I questioned in a panic.

“Nothing to stress about. Just listen, we’re going to be a day or two late coming home,” I frowned at his words before speaking up.

“But baby, our due date is in a few days, will you be here for the birth of out child?” I questioned as sadness laced my words.

“I will, I promise but right now I got to go, I love you forever and always,”

“I love you forever and always,” I sighed as I hung up the phone.

I know Jax has never broken a promise to me but I think this time might be different.

And being apart, Ain’t easy on this love affair, Two strangers learn to fall in love again
I get the joy of rediscovering you, Oh, girl, you stand by me, I’m forever yours, Faithfully.

A million thoughts ran through my head.

Jax never called me today, he never texted nor did he facetime. My mind was racing at a mile a minute.

‘What if he’s dead?’, ‘What if he’s kidnapped?’, ‘What if he doesn’t want me anymore?’, ‘What if he found someone else?’

I finally gave up arguing with myself as I began dialing Opie’s number.

“Hello?” Opie’s gruff voice picked up on the other end while I took a deep breath.

“Opie! It’s (Y/N)! Have you seen or heard from Jax in a while?” I questioned rather quickly as Opie took a moment before replying.

“Uh, yeah. I think he’s gone to talk to the Mayans. Is anything wrong?” Ope questioned with concern.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to talk with him, I haven’t heard from him in awhile and I didn’t know if anything had happened,” I tried to sound positive and happy as I spoke. Opie chuckled before speaking.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. When he gets back I’ll make sure he calls you,” I smiled.

“Thanks, Ope,” I went to tell Opie goodbye when he suddenly spoke up.

“Oh and (Y/N)?”

“Yeah?” I questioned with curiosity and concern.

“He’s been faithful,” I smiled into the phone before telling Ope thanking him for telling me and hanging up.

I leaned against the counter with a smile until I felt this sudden cramp came across my abdomen. I started to take deep breaths and soon enough the pain subsided. I began to stand back up as I felt the sensation that I was peeing came on. My eyes widened before I reached for my phone attempting to call Gemma. While I was in the process of dialing Gemma’s number another cramp feeling came across my abdomen again.

“Fuck!” I screamed out in pain as I knelt to the ground. I finished dialing Gemma’s number while I hoped for her to answer.

“Gemma! Come quick! I-I think the baby’s coming!” I screamed into the phone while another contraction came on.

Whoa, oh-oh-ooh, Whoa, oh-oh-ooh, oh, Whoa, oh-oh-oh, oh-woohoo-oh, Faithfully, I’m still yours, I’m forever yours, Ever yours, Faithfully.

 

I laid back on the bed as another contraction hit me again.

“Ahh! H-how f-far apart are they?” I questioned Gemma as she smiled.

“Five minutes apart, baby. Almost time,” I smiled at here while I began taking deep breaths.

“Ah! Ms. (Y/L) and Mrs. Teller. How far are your contractions?” I was about to answer when another contraction hit me.

“They’re less than five minutes now,” Gemma answered for me. The doctor smiled before handing the nurse my chart.

“Alright, let’s get you ready to give birth,” I shot up on the table.

“I am not giving birth until my fiancé gets here,” I said as the doctor smiled softly.

“I’m sorry, Ms. (Y/N) but the baby is ready to come now and I don’t think he’s going to wait,” I sighed before turning to face Gemma.

“It’s okay, baby. John wasn’t there for Thomas birth and I did just fine. You will too,” I smiled at her before nodding my head. The nurse leads Gemma out of the room while they prepped me for birth. I was getting ready to push when my door busted open.

It was Jax.

“I’m here baby. I’m here,” I smiled at Jax as he rushed to my side and gripped my hand. I couldn’t respond to Jax as another contraction hit.

“Alright, start pushing!”

Time Skip:

The nurse handed me a towel to wipe away some sweat from my face.

“Here you guys go,” The nurse said before handing us our new baby boy.

“Oh my God, Jax he’s perfect,” I said in awe.

“What should we name him?” Jax questioned with a smile.

“I was thinking Thomas,” Jax smiled down at me before nodding his head.

“That’s perfect,” Jax said turning back to the baby. I turned Jax’s head back to me before pulling him into a kiss.

“Thank you for being faithful to me,” I said once we pulled away.

“Thank you for standing by me,” Jax said with a smile.

  1. Group new words together in your notes (according toparts of speech, the same pronunciation, the same topic area, etc).
  2. Think of relationships between what you already know and new things you learn (for me it is for instance hond-hund (nl-no) ).
  3. Visualize idioms or phrases in your mind, or draw them, to help remember. Try to see the spelling before your closed eyes.
  4. Make diagrams or semantic maps (word maps, webs of words) to arrange key words visually on paper.
  5. Remember a new foreign word by a crazy association with a known word (camarera = a Spanish waitress with a camera).
  6. Create rhymes to remember new words.
  7. Use (colored) flashcards to remember new English words (idea: one colour = one part of speech OR one colour = one language if you are learning more than 1 language at the same time)
  8. When trying to remember, physically act out new verbs.
  9. Say aloud or write new English words repeatedly [When I was a 4th grader I couldn’t remember ‘chicken’ word so I wrote this word 20 times. Not only I remember I did such thing but also when I close my eyes I see this piece of paper with 3 lines of chicken word – but this is only for hardcore learning I guess, can’t imagine learning every word like this ;) )
  10. Copy, rewrite new language items to practice writing.
  11. Imitate (shadow) recorded language to imitate a native speaker’s way of speaking.
  12. Try to use whole ready-made phrases fluently (Nice to see you too! What a shame!).
  13. With new structures,  try to make analogous (similar) sentences based on a model.
  14. Consciously try to use the words you know in different combinations to make new sentences.
  15. Start conversations in your target language whenever you are around a native speaker.
  16. Come to out-of-class language events (search for language club in your city maybe?).
  17. Get involved in any class activities that require writing or speaking spontaneously in the language you are learning (not working if you are a self-learner…).
  18. Use a monolingual dictionary
  19. Use other kinds of resources (a picture dictionary, a dictionary of collocations)
  20. Use thematic /vocabulary books for your own study.
  21. Look for words in your own language that are similar to new words in the language you are learning.
  22. Try to find patterns, regularities in grammar.
  23. Work out the meaning of a word by dividing it into parts (prefixes and suffixes) that you understand.
  24. Make comparisons between languages (e.g. German vs Spanish).
  25. Make notes / summaries of new information that you hear or read in your target language.
  26. Even when you are not terribly sure whether it is correct to say something in a given way, take risk to try!
  27. Understand unfamiliar words, make guesses from the linguistic context and clues (like this must be a negative word, this must be the name of an illness).
  28. To understand new and difficult language material, make guesses from the situation (in a film), pictures (in a magazine), gestures, tone of voice in a conversation, etc.
  29. When you are writing a new word in your notebook, also write a sentence where this word is used. Personally I was too lazy to do it but when I finally started it helped me a lot.
  30. Try out different ways of learning and revise, revise, revise…
sometimes once it is dark out you fall apart softly like a flower with its petals scattered all over the ground. you are lying down and aching in your head and your eyes and your throat and your chest cavity and you have found that you feel things in your throat, mostly. when you cry it hurts and when you are afraid there’s a sinking sensation from the back of your mouth down to your lungs, so it is a little hard to breathe and when you are happy there’s this dizzy giddy sort of thing golden inside you. you swallow and it doesn’t go away because you have told yourself that nothing is certain and you stand on limits of knowledge like they are the branches of a tree but sometimes it breaks you because you do not know and you cannot answer the questions and there is a word on the tip of your tongue but you do not know what it is. the unknowing makes the nights all crimson and empty. i am holding your heart cupped in my hands and it is so very weak, beating in time with your sobs, stuttering when you wake up, bursting all over the ceiling when you laugh. your hope is this great billowing thing stuck inside you, bloody and blurring the lines of where you end and the world begins. every once in a while you believe your words leave your head and grow great dragon wings. those are the days when you have granite eyes and you walk in a straight line and you stand up like you’ve got steel for bones, swords for teeth. half the time you have feathers falling from your mouth. they pass out into the world and smudge your lipstick and cut tiny little holes in your self so that when you go home you are leaking your faded-out essence all over the keyboard.
—  open letter to myself//ast.
My Silent Pleas - A Snowbaz Bond AU (Prologue) (0.1k)

YOU GUYS ASKED FOR IT! SO I’M DELIVERING!

I am just overwhelmed by the compliments and support you guys have given me on this lovely little Snowbaz fic, which shocked me, to be honest :D So as so many of you requested, I’m writing it!!

Here is a small prologue for you all. And Chapter 1 will be posted tomorrow (:


Prologue

Words are power. Words are control. Every lyric, every rhyme, every flick of the tongue; All working together to draw up the magick that flows through every student and teacher at Watford. Words are the air they breathe. The energy they thrive on. The atmosphere they live in. Words are the very being of their existence.

But Simon Snow has never been great with words. His power is far greater than any magician the World of Mages have ever seen. But such power does not come to him so easily. Such words do not roll off of his tongue, nor flow through him like a fountain. He struggles and stutters through every line and every spell, causing many to backfire on him. Sometimes setting his books aflame or his desk left in crumbles.

Simon has never been great with words. And he knows this. Penny knows this. Every student and teacher at Watford knows this. And even Baz knows this. Baz knows this far too well.


(A/N: I will be posting this fanfiction on AO3, as the chapters will be quite long. So please be sure to check it out and subscribe! However, I will be letting you all know on here when I post a new chapter)

Shoutout to @baz-n-simon for being my amazing beta (:
And to @dancingwdinosaurs for reasons <3 

For the love of all that’s good and pure in this godforsaken world, do not think about sherlock and john slow dancing in the middle of their living room, barefoot, in the golden late afternoon light, with “the way you look tonight” playing in the background.  Do not dare think about Sherlock singing softly in John’s ear “you’re lovely, with your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me but to love you..”, and John replying with the next few lines “And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart..”  And above all else do not imagine sherlock dipping john and whispering against his neck “cause I love you, just the way you look tonight”, punctuating every word with brief, cute, feathery kisses while john chuckles giddy and light-headed from the overwhelming exhilaration of their love ❤️