Words to use instead of decir

@languageoclock made this kind of vocabulary list for German “words to use instead of sagen, and so I’m adapting/adding to the the list for Spanish as a kind of looser “words to use instead of decir” version

  • anunciar = to announce
  • contestar = to answer
  • molestar = to annoy [used like gustar]
  • discutir = to argue, to discuss [pelear or luchar are more physical]
    argumentar = to contend, to argue
  • articular = to articulate / to enunciate, to speak clearly
  • respirar = to breathe
  • inhalar = to inhale
  • exhalar = to exhale
  • aspirar = to suck in air
    aspirar = to aspire
  • soplar = to blow air out
    soplar = to blow (wind)
  • expresar = to express
  • dar voz a = to voice [lit. “to give voice to”; dar voces is sometimes translated as “to shout”]
    poner voz a = to voice [lit. “to put voice to”]
  • mantener = to maintain
  • pronunciar = to pronounce
  • comentar = to comment
  • plantear = to claim, to make a claim/statement
  • predicar = to preach (religion)
    predicar = to assert, to declare / to mention
  • declarar = to declare, to make a statement
  • regañar = to scold, to yell at (usually parents to children)
  • reprochar = to rebuke, to reproach
  • clamar = to clamor (for)
  • reclamar = to complain, to appeal (legal)
  • confesar = to confess
  • insultar = to insult
  • ofender = to offend
  • ladrar = to bark [usually said of dogs]
  • darse cuenta = to realize, to notice
  • notar = to notice, to perceive
  • percibir = to notice, to observe
  • observar = to observe
  • reportar = to report
  • informar = to report, to inform
  • enfatizar = to emphasize
    hacer hincapié en (algo) = to stress (something)
  • recalcar, remarcar = to stress, to emphasize, to underscore
  • subrayar = to underline
  • ofrecer = to offer
  • pedir = to ask, to plead / to request
    [in the sense of food/restaurants, pedir is “to order”]
  • rogar = to beg
  • solicitar = to request, to seek, to ask for
    [solicitar can also be “to apply for a job”]
  • hablar entre dientes = to mutter [lit. “to speak between teeth”]
    hablar muy bajo = to mutter [lit. “to speak softly”]
  • mascullar = to mutter, to mumble
  • murmurar = to murmur
  • deletrear = to spell out [in the sense of telling someone how something is spelled]
  • clarificar = to clarify, to spell out
    decirlo en blanco y negro = to spell something out, to not beat around the bush [lit. “to say it in white and black”]
  • debatir = to debate
    discutir = to discuss [when not meaning “to argue”, it means more “to talk about something in depth”]
  • hablar = to speak
    [in some contexts, hablar can carry the meaning of “to put into words”, or “to speak up/out”]
  • invitar = to invite
    [side note: invitar can also be used as “to treat” when you buy something for someone else; invito yo is “it’s my treat”]
  • replicar = to reply
  • contraargumentar = to counter, to counter-argue
    contraatacar = to counter, to counterattack 
  • explicar = to explain
  • mencionar = to mention
  • contar = to tell (a story)
    recontar = to recount (a story)
    [note: contar can also mean “to count (numbers)”, or contar con algo/alguien “to trust (something/someone)” as in “to count on”]
  • jurar = to swear (an oath)
  • prestar juramento = to pledge / to make an oath
  • testificar = to testify
  • atestiguar = to attest, to bear witness, to provide testimony
  • maldecir = to curse
    decir palabrotas = to curse / to say bad words
  • formular = to forumlate
  • preguntar = to question
    preguntarse = to wonder [me pregunto si… “I wonder if…”; lit. “I ask myself if”]
  • hacer una pregunta (a alguien) = to ask (someone) a question
  • sonreír = to smile, to grin
  • gorgotear = to gurgle [liquid or water]
    borbotar / borbotear = to gurgle [usually in the sense of water]
  • balbucear = to babble, to gurgle [usually said of babies, or when it’s not clear speech]
  • gorjear = to squeal, to chirp [usually noises a baby makes, or sometimes small birds]
  • aullar = to howl, to yelp
  • tronar = to boom, to yell, to thunder
  • vociferar = to say loudly
  • rugir = to roar
  • berrear = to bellow
    berrear, mugir = to low, to moo (cows)
    berrear = to bawl, to cry loudly, to wail
    [in some places berrear might be “to snitch” or “to tell a secret”]
  • toser = to cough
  • imitar = to imitate
  • emular = to emulate, to imitate
  • parodiar = to parody
  • remedar = to mimic, to copy [often in the sense of “parroting” someone’s words to make fun of them]
  • quejarse (de) = to complain (about)
  • gruñir = to groan, to grumble, to growl
  • refunfuñar = to grumble, to gripe, to rabble 
  • aullar, gañir = to yelp [usually said of dogs]
  • chillar = to shriek, to squeal
    chillar = to squeak (a mouse)
    chirriar = to squeak (objects, shoes, doors)
  • divagar = to go on a tangent, to ramble
  • irse por las ramas = to ramble on [lit. “to go through the branches”, “to beat around the bush”]
    irse por la tangente = to go on a tangent
  • hablar y hablar = to go on and on [lit. “to speak and speak”]
  • cecear = to lisp
  • mentir = to lie
    fingir = to feign
    engañar = to deceive
  • gemir = to moan
  • opinar = to opine, to have an opinion
    expresar la opinión = to express an opinion
  • estornudar = to sneeze
  • bostezar = to yawn
  • charlar = to chat, to chitchat
  • platicar = to chat, to have a chat [usually in the sense of small talk]
  • conversar = to converse, to have a conversation
  • parlar = to talk, to have a conversation / to parley (pirates)
  • chismear = to gossip
    comadrear = to gossip
    [usually said of women, a bit antiquated but it’s related to la comadre which are close friends of a woman, lit. “co-mother”, so it used to apply more to when women would talk to each other alone]
  • cotillear = to snoop, to pry / to gossip [more common in Spain; it has the meaning of “to get into someone else’s business”]
  • reaccionar = to react
  • protestar = to protest, to object (court of law)
  • refutar = to refute
  • rebatir = to refute, to rebut / to parry
  • negar = to deny
  • presumir = to brag, to show off
  • alardear = to boast
  • pavonearse = to boast, to brag, to peacock
  • vanagloriarse = to brag, to toot one’s own horn
  • fanfarronear = to to brag, to boast
  • jactarse de = to brag about
    presumir de = to brag about
  • llamar = to call (on the phone) / to call out
  • llorar = to cry, to weep
  • lloriquear = to whimper, to snivel, to cry
  • sollozar = to sob
  • burlarse de (algo/alguien) = to make fun of (something/someone), to mock, to tease
  • reírse de (algo/alguien) = to laugh at (something/someone)
  • mofarse de (algo/alguien) = to deride, to scoff at, to mock
  • bromear = to joke, to tease
  • chistear = to tell a joke
  • tomar el pelo a alguien = to trick someone, to pull someone’s leg, to mess with someone [lit. “to grab/take hair”]
  • suspirar = to sigh
  • gritar = to scream, to yell
  • cantar = to sing
  • silbar = to whistle
  • chiflar = to whistle / to boo, to jeer at
    rechiflarse = to boo, to jeer
  • abuchear = to boo, to jeer
  • vocear = to vocalize, to announce / to yell, to shout
  • aclamar = to cheer, to cheer on / to acclaim
  • vitorear = to cheer, to cheer on
  • aplaudir = to applaud / to cheer
  • decir = to speak, to say, to tell
  • negociar = to negotiate
  • tartamudear = to stammer, to stutter
  • titubear = to hesitate, to stutter
  • atorarse = to stutter, to get tongue-tied
    trabarse la lengua = to get tongue-tied
    tropezar al hablar = to stumble while speaking, to have difficulty speaking
  • escupir = to spit
  • sisear = to hiss
  • introducir = to introduce
  • reflexionar = to ponder, to reflect on
  • considerar = to consider
  • contemplar = to contemplate, to think about
  • tomar en cuenta = to keep in mind
  • sugerir = to suggest
  • exigir = to demand
  • alabar = to praise
  • elogiar = to laud
  • decir maravillas de (algo/alguien) = to speak highly of (something/someone)
  • condenar = to condemn
  • denunciar = to denounce
  • acusar = to accuse / to charge (legal)
  • revelar = to reveal
  • indicar = to indicate
  • traicionar = to betray
  • seguir = to follow, to continue
  • continuar = to continue
  • guiar = to guide, to lead
  • conducir = to conduct, to guide / to drive
  • maniobrar = to maneuver
  • criticar = to criticize, to critique
  • transparentar = to be obvious, to be transparent
  • translucir = to reveal, to shine through
  • añadir = to add
  • interrumpir = to interrupt
  • interponer = to interject
  • intervenir = to intervene, to step in
  • exclamar = to exclaim
  • abordar = to approach / to address an issue, to broach a subject
  • admitir = to admit / to allow
  • susurrar = to whisper
  • divulgar = to divulge, to tell a secret
  • piar = to chirp, to tweet (birds)
  • perder el hilo = to lose one’s train of thought
  • irse apagando = to trail off [lit. “to go diminishing”]
  • quedar en ridículo = to look ridiculous, to look foolish
  • poner en evidencia = to show someone up, to put someone in their place
  • defender = to defend
  • oponerse = to stand against
  • abogar = to advocate / to vouch for, to intercede on behalf of
  • emepzar (a) = to start (to)
  • comenzar (a) = to begin (to), to commence (to)
  • detener = to stop
  • dejar (de hacer algo) = to stop (doing something)
  • concluir = to conclude
  • garantizar = to guarantee
  • contradecir = to contradict
  • responder = to respond
  • ayudar = to help
  • apoyar = to support
Blue Magic (Cover)
Ly & Dom
Blue Magic (Cover)

(i suggest you wait for the ending of the song cos goddamn that piano is my fave part tbh)

Piano by @cosmiicowl
Vocals by me

Your fave duo is back! “Blue Magic” was written by Jack Pendarvis and this song was used in the episode “Winter Light” from the Elements mini-series.

Here are Ly’s chords!

G                                                          Em
It’s a humid night, the moon is getting full again
G                                                                 Em
Somewhere there’s a slight figure made of paraffin
       D                                    C                D                                 C
And someone is turning it’s head, and someone is pulling it’s leg
     Am         C        D
It’s magic

G                                                               Em 
It’s a restless crowd, the doves are flying from his sleeves
G                                               Em 
One girl’s not so loud like a convert she believes
          D                                    C             D                                            C
She’s always been looking for wires but now she knows none are required
     Am        C        D
It’s magic

[ interlude: G Em G Em D C D C Am C D ]

G                                                          Em 
Wrap me up in chains with the magic words you say
G                                                     Em 
I can use my brains I can make my [ Em ] getaway
      D                             C       D                                     C
But I will be your volunteer if you make this love disappear

        Am      C            Am         C
Like magic,         like magic

G Em G Em D C D C

   Am        C     D    G7

Caffeine Challenge #12-- done!

You can read mine below or here (X)! This one is yet another WIP lol. Good job everyone who participated, I can’t wait to read yours!

I’m on a bus before I know it, my sister’s voice still ringing in my ears.

“Mom’s dead. They’re calling in a new Sheriff.”

It’s been years since I’ve been home, but I know what that means. There’ll be blood in our county before the month’s up and, with Sis pregnant with her second, that’s something Abbey’s can’t afford.

So I break the promise I made when I was sixteen and I come home. Mom’s not around to care though, so it’s hardly like there was much of a promise to break anyway.

Judging by Orisa’s face, she doesn’t agree.

“I told you not to come,” she says when I jump off the bus. She’s got a toddler by the hand and her belly is swollen with another child. For all that, she’s still got a whole belt of stakes slung over her shoulder.

“You’re expecting trouble,” I say, chin jerking to the wood. “I had to.” I drop my bag at my feet and squat down with a friendly smile. “Ara? Is that you? But, it can’t be, you’re so big!”

The little girl, hair the color of sunlight, ducks behind her mother’s legs, amber eyes distrustful.

“I saw you when you were a baby,” I say to the little girl. She’s got her mama’s freckles, only a shade darker than her brown skin. She’s beautiful. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember me.”

“The locals certainly remember you,” Orisa tells me. “What are you thinking, Mable, coming back now?”

I exhale through my nose and stand. “I’m thinking that we’re in Sheriff-less territory and you’re the late lady’s daughter, Orisa. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“They like me here,” Orisa says, white teeth flashing. “You coming back is only going to stoke the fires, Mable. You know that.”

I keep my smile pleasant, aware of Ara’s eyes on me. “The fires are already stoked, Orisa. You should know that.”

Keep reading

some useful phrases i’ve learnt this week

watching the first season of il paradiso delle signore on raiplay

  • non ho scelta - i have no choice
  • lascia perdere - forget it, let it go
  • fare salti di gioia - to jump with joy
  • mi raccomando - don’t forget (to do sth), be sure to (do sth)
  • molto lieto/a - pleased to meet you
  • prendere in giro qn - to pull someone’s leg
  • mi dispiace, sono dispiaciuto/a - I’m srry
  • mi stupisce che… - I’m amazed/stunned that…
  • rendersi conto - to realize
  • non trovi? - don’t you think?
  • mi mette sempre in imbarazzo - he always embarrasses me
  • io non so perché ce l’hanno con me - I don’t now why they are against me

please add to this post if you have any thoughts, synonyms, or corrections!! 

My parents adopted a dead boy.

My English is not perfect, so please pardon me if there are any mistakes.

I live in a small country in Southeast Asia called Singapore. A few years back, I had converted to Christianity but I was raised in a Buddhist household like the majority of Singaporean Chinese families. Though my parents were not strict in their beliefs, they still kept an altar in the corridor of our home and offered incense to it religiously.

My father owned a small business and it had been going smoothly for the past few years. We lived comfortably and were able to afford the lifestyle we wanted. Singapore is a country with very high standard of living, so everything is extremely overpriced. To be able to live a comfortable lifestyle is truly a blessing. However since a few months back, his business had been dropping. It was not a drastic drop, but it still got him worried that the decline was going to continue. My father’s friend had told him about this thing called the Kumanthong which was known to bring good luck and fortune to the owner.

Kumanthong (literally translated as Golden sacrificed young boy) is popular in Thai religion and although it is not part of Buddhist practices, many people still consider it as such. Authentic Kumanthongs originated from a practice of necromancy. According to Wikipedia (because I had no idea what they were in the first place), they were obtained from the desiccated fetuses of children who had died whilst still in their mothers’ womb. Witch doctors were said to be able to invoke these stillborn babies, adopt them as their children, and use them to help them in their endeavors.

To make a Kumanthong, the unborn fetus will first be surgically removed from the womb of its mother. Then the body would be taken to a cemetery for the conduction of the proper ceremonial ritual to invoke a Kumanthong. The body will then be roasted until dry while the witch doctor chants incantations. Once the rite was completed, the dry-roasted fetus will be painted in Ya Lak (a kind of lacquer used to cover amulets) and covered in gold leaf. Thus the name “Golden Little Boy”.

Some Kumanthongs are soaked in Nam Man Phrai, a kind of oil extracted by burning a candle close to the chin of a dead child or a person who died in violent circumstances or an unnatural death. The collection of oil is less common now, because the practice is considered illegal if they were using fat from human babies for the oil. Occasionally, there are still some amulets that are obtained through authentic methods. How “authentic” it is, I have no idea.

Nowadays, Kumanthongs are made by monks and evil priests from the bones, hairs or cremated powder of the baby. Some are obtained through the black market from recent abortions.

Anyway, my father’s friend mentioned to him about Kumanthongs and how helpful they were in helping him get his promotion in the place he worked. He talked about his Kumanthong with high respect and believed that the spirit of the little boy was the one that brought him all his fortune. My father was fascinated and he wanted an easy way out of his troubles, thus he went to a Thai temple and obtained his Kumanthong from a monk.

When he first showed us the Kumanthong, I was indifferent. My mother accepted it quite quickly because she had heard many good things about it too. At that point of time, I was not educated about it and I thought it was just like the other Buddhist deity statues we had at our altar. My father told me that it was different and that we have to treat it as if it was alive and part of our family. He then mentioned to me that the purpose of owning a Kumanthong was so that we can help its spirit move on and reincarnate through our good deeds. I didn’t understand what it meant, but it had something to do with karma and passing on your merits to the Kumanthong.

The Kumanthong was a statue was a toddler, depicted to be about 3 years old. The statue was a dark matte grey, but his pants and accessories (like arm bracelets, hair tie, necklace) were painted in gold. Gold Thai writing was painted all over its arms and back. He sat crossed legged and had his hands pressed together in front of his chest. Upon his arrival, my parents created a mini-altar beside the one we already had. Because he had to be treated like he was alive, my parents placed things on the altar that toddlers usually like. He was still a little boy after all. They had bought pacifiers, sweets, soft drinks and toys for him and had even given him a nickname. ‘Di di’ was what they called, which meant ‘little brother’ in Chinese. Every meal, my mother would set aside an extra bowl of food for the Kumanthong and called it to meal. Sometimes my dad would ask me to “play” with him by rolling the toy car at his altar. They really treated him like a son.

Honestly, I never really thought much of it. I had grown up in a house where we had many Buddhist statues and I was pretty much used to them. Even though I had converted to Christianity, I was not going to force my religion unto my family or said what they were doing to be wrong. It had been my decision to convert and my parents respected that. In turn, I respect their religion and I help out whenever I can. They were adults and they should know what they were doing.

Nothing notable happened last week. My father mentioned that his business was picking up again. He attributed it to the Kumanthong and said it was because of it that his business was going well again. My mother believed that too. I didn’t want to burst their bubble and tell them that it was all just a placebo effect, so I kept my mouth quiet and let them believe what they wanted to.

Even though I helped my parents with “taking care” of him, I never really believed in it like my parents did. However, something weird happened to me yesterday and I’m not sure what to think of it. It’s currently my semester break from university and I have taken up a part time job to get some extra cash to spend. Usually, I had to be awake at 6.45AM to prepare myself before I head out of the house. I had to travel an hour to the place I work, so I had specifically set that I was to leave the house by 7.30AM. But, I was so tired that I ‘accidentally’ turned off the alarm on my phone. By accidentally, I meant on purpose. You know when you’re so familiar with your phone that you know how to unconsciously press the button to turn off the alarm? Yeah, that’s what I did. I went back to sleep, unknowing that it was already 7AM and continued my slumber. In my sleep, I felt someone pulling my leg and I reflexively pulled it back, thinking nothing of it. Again, it was pulled. It was not a harsh pull like those you see in horror films where the person was pulled off the bed. It was just a small tug. “Stop it,” I mumbled in my sleep before turning to face the other side.

“Jie jie (‘Big Sister’ in Chinese), it’s time to wake up.” I heard a soft voice beside my ear. Upon hearing that, my eyes instantly shot opened and I looked around my room. I was an only child and had no siblings, thus it scared the shit out of me when I heard a little boy’s voice beside my ear. I’m not sure if it was just in my mind or if I really heard someone else in my room.

Before I left the house, I passed by the altars in the corridor and my eyes flickered to the side to glance at the Kumanthong. I swear its usually expressionless face was replaced with a slight smile.

I reached work on time.

I had the day off work today so I thought I would write this down and share it with you guys. I’m still not sure what to make out of this incident. Everything in me tells me that something that was created through such extreme means could not be a kind spirit. So far, it had brought only good luck to my family but it has only been a week since my dad brought it home. What do you guys? Is anyone experienced with Kumanthongs and can tell me more?

I will keep you guys updated if anything else happens.

Hides Away The Sun (Soulmate!Luke)

Another Soulmate!AU… because you can never have too many.

In which you swap bodies Freaky Friday style with your soulmate on an unknown day in your life (whenever you’re both ‘ready’ for your soulmate) and it could be any day. You don’t know in advanced.


(Y/n) woke up earlier than usual that morning. She’d gone to sleep really early in preparation for having to get up at this time. Usually, she liked to sleep in on her days off, but her best friend, Megan, had decided that that just wouldn’t be the case today. Instead, she’d decided to set her up on a blind date.

Megan was avidly in favor of the idea of (Y/n) dating, whether (Y/n) agreed with it or not. She’d set (Y/n) up on three dates in the last month. The first two had not gone well, but Megan insisted that this guy was the one, or as close as it gets where soulmates aren’t involved. Megan wasn’t a huge fan of the idea of soulmates, and she was more than happy to date around till she found hers, but (Y/n) wasn’t set on the idea of love in general, which is why she was so against this lunch date.

Sitting up in her bed, (Y/n) rubbed tiredly at her eyes to shake away the sleep.

“Luke, you’re up early.”

“What?” Her eyes shot open at the distinctly masculine voice.

This was definitely not her bedroom.

The room was deep and rectangular, laid out with generic furniture, a small flat screen, and the ugliest shade of green walls she’d ever seen. Clearly she was in a hotel, whether she recognized how she’d gotten here or not.

“I said you’re up early.”

Her eyes shot across the room to the second bed pressed up by the window. A tall, dark-haired boy with dark, tanned skin littered in tattoos was stretched out on the bed scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, occasionally glancing up to some ridiculous crime show on the tv.

Oh God. She hadn’t… No, not today. Any day but today. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. This was not happening!

“Hey, Luke, you okay man?” The other boy sat up with a concerned expression and looked over at her.

“No, I’m not.” She mumbled out; her eyes darting down to look at her body… Only it wasn’t her body today. Today she was in someone else’s. Her soulmate’s.

“Yeah, man I know what you mean,” The other boy chuckled. “It was a late night last night. Those girls were…”

“No,” She cut him off, not knowing where this line of conversation was going… not really wanting to know. “I mean, I’m not Luke.”

“Wake up (Y/n)! You’re gonna be late!”

In the distance, Luke heard a pounding on the door and groaned out loud. It was way too early to be getting up. He felt like he’d only gone to sleep a few minutes ago. How could he be needed up already? The boys didn’t have anything to do till at least noon.

“(Y/n) your date is in an hour! If you don’t get up now, you won’t be ready!”

Did they just say (Y/n)? That voice definitely wasn’t familiar to him. Maybe someone had the wrong hotel room…


“(Y/n)! I will break down this fucking door if you don’t get up! You have no idea what I went through to get you this date, and you’re damn well going!”

Luke groaned and sat up, preparing to shoo away whoever it was. As he sat up, he froze. This was not his hotel room. This was a bedroom. A woman’s bedroom. He was in some woman’s bedroom.

“No, no, no.” Luke knew what this meant. He scrambled out of the bed and dove towards a mirror across the room. The eyes staring back at him were not his own. This body belonged to someone else. He wasn’t himself today. “Fucking hell,” He groaned. Today was definitely not a good day for this. He had a show tonight.

“That’s it I’m coming in!” The door behind him was thrown open and an angry brunette stood in the door with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

“Before you say anything!” He raised a hand defensively to stop her. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“This complicates things,” Ashton sighed rubbed his jaw as he tried to think of a solution. “I don’t know if we can play a show without Luke.”

“I can figure out something with the guitar, but I don’t know about singing his parts,” Michael informed the other two.

Calum groaned and pushed himself up from the table, “Yeah, but the fans, guys. We’re not a band without Luke. They came to see all of us.”

“They’ll understand the situation,” Michael countered.

(Y/n) sat still and silent on the bed as the band discussed what to do. She was still trying to come to terms with the fact that A) her soulmate was a rockstar, B) she was sitting in a room with all of 5 Seconds of Summer, C) she was stuck for 24 hours in the body of Luke Hemmings, and oh yeah, D) her soulmate WAS A ROCKSTAR!

“I um..” She shuffled to her feet, catching the attention of the other three occupants in the room. “I think I need some air…”

Ashton nodded his understanding and condolence. “You can’t go out front. There’s fans who’ll want to meet Luke,” he jumped to his feet and walked you to the door. “Around that corner,” He opened it and pointed to the left, “there’s an elevator. Should be a guard at the door. Ask his help, and he’ll take you out back of the hotel.”

“Thanks,” she murmured and took off down the hall immediately, putting as much space between her and them as possible.

This all felt like a sick twisted joke. Soulmates were wild and crazy enough, but a famous soulmate who was halfway around the world on a tour right now? That was ridiculous. Someone was pulling her leg, and she really wished she could just wake up and pretend this was all a dream.

“I’m really sorry about the whole dating thing,” Megan passed a cup of coffee across the table to Luke. “If I’d known you weren’t her or that she was going to get her soulmate so soon I wouldn’t have…”

“It’s okay,” Luke waved off her concern. “I get it, really I do. I was about to give up on finding her myself.” Luke bent his head to take a sip of coffee but spluttered it back up, “What is this?”

“Oh sorry!” Megan scooped up the cup and went over to the sink. “That’s how (Y/n) takes her coffee.” Megan started washing out the cup and giggled. “You look like her, sooo…”

Luke chuckled and shook his head, a little disoriented by the sound of the higher pitched laughter. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He jumped to his feet. “I’ll just get some water.”

“Probably best,” Megan agreed and sat back at the table.

Luke pulled a water bottle from the fridge and said, “Tell me about her?” as he chugged a gulp of water. He was in her head right now, but he didn’t have any of her memories. He’d slept in her room, but there was a certain organization to it that made the place feel quite formal. This was a house, not a home.

Megan sighed heavily and sat back in her chair, “Well, (Y/n) moved to town a year and a half ago to get away from her situation at home. Her parents went most of their lives not knowing their soulmates, but when she was seventeen her mom woke up one day switched with her soulmate. It tore her family apart, and she’s not cared for the idea of one ever since.”

“So she doesn’t want a soulmate?” Luke sat heavily in his seat with a sad expression. He’d not been out searching for his soulmate per say, but he’d certainly wanted to meet her. He’d never even considered that she might not like him.

“It’s not that!” Megan backtracked. “It’s not she doesn’t like the idea. She just doesn’t think it’ll work out for her ya know? She’s got it in her head that because her parents ended badly she’s gonna be the same or worse.”

Luke hummed his understanding and gulped down some more water. “So, it’s gonna be some work, but I’m not totally shut out then?”

Megan nodded, “Yeah, it’s gonna be some work.”

Luke thought it over for a minute. He wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea of being told who to love, but he couldn’t say he hated soulmates. He was actually kind of excited at the prospect of it, at times. The universe had pointed him in the direction of the one person who would be perfect for him. He wasn’t going to just toss that aside because it would require a little work. He wanted to try, if not for himself than at least for her. She deserved to be happy, and he wanted to give that to her. “I’m ready for that.”

Megan smiled at him. She was glad to see that her friend had a soulmate who actually cared. She had been worried for (Y/n) that she would end up with a soulmate exactly like herself, one who didn’t believe in love. Luke seemed ready and willing to put in time. “So Luke, I’ve told you (Y/n)’s story, now tell me about you. I need to know your worthy of my best friend.”

“Well,” Luke chuckled to himself as Megan sipped her coffee. “My name is Luke Hemmings, and …”

Megan spewed her drink across the wood table, “WHAT!”

Before she could say anything else the house phone on the counter began to ring.

(Y/n) sighed and stared up at the cloudy sky, praying for rain. She felt like shit. She was stuck in an employee parking lot behind a hotel with a security guard loitering over her shoulder. She was halfway around the world in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.

Unfamiliar people who didn’t seem to care how she was feeling right now. If she closed her eyes she could see Megan excitedly pouring over Luke, telling him everything he needed to know.

Here, she’d been pushed aside as an inconvenience. She’d been told in one sentence who and where she was before the rest of her soulmate’s band ignored her to try and fix the problem she’d ‘created’. They’d told her to stay out of sight, to fake sick for management, and to avoid fans. No one cared the extreme terror she was feeling right now, the pain and confusion she was experiencing.

“You know,” (Y/n)’s head shot up at the voice. Michael was standing at the top of the stairs leading out the back of the hotel kitchen. His eyes were trained on the sky, but he was clearly talking to (Y/n). The guard had disappeared, no doubt shooed away by Michael. “I always hated the rain.”

“I like it,” She mused, eyes going back up. “It’s peaceful, calming.”

“It’s cold,” Michael trotted down the steps and sat down next to her. “And it hides away the sun.”

“Figure out how to fix your show tonight?” She changed the subject.

Michael shrugged, “We have a few ideas… But don’t worry. We always find a way to screw things up on our own.” He smiled and nudged you with his elbow, trying to get a reaction. “Come on. Let’s get you back inside, so we can all chat.” He jumped to his feet and held out a hand for her.

She smiled politely at him and shook her head, “I’d rather sit out here for a while, if you don’t mind. I need to clear my head.”

Michael paused for a moment then sat back down, “Okay, that’s fine. We don’t have to talk if you’re not ready.”

(Y/n) paused for a minute, thinking it over. She really didn’t want to talk about herself, and there really wasn’t much to talk to the boys about without Luke there mentally himself. She didn’t need a biography lesson; she needed a psychology lesson, what he thought about all this. His friends couldn’t answer that for her, not completely anyway. “What does Luke think about all this?”

“Soulmates?” She nodded. Michael sighed, “Honestly, he’s never really had the time for an actual relationship, but he’s always been open to emotions and stuff… I think, with you being his soulmate it’ll be different; he’ll be willing to put in a lot more effort. You’re perfect for him, literally. He won’t force you into this life if you don’t want it, but he’s definitely going to want to try this, at least.”

(Y/n) nodded and looked back up at the sky. “How do you think he’ll feel about me?”

“Let’s ask him,” Michael whipped out his phone and handed it to you. “What’s your number?”

“Who is it?” Luke asked, as Megan looked at the caller I.D.

She shrugged, “I don’t know. Random number, never seen it before.”

He got up and crossed the room to look at it, “Hey… That’s Michael.”

“M-Michael Clifford?” Megan willingly handed over the phone in her confusion and worry.

“Yeah.” Luke walked away and answered the phone. “Michael?”

“Um… No,” His own voice echoed back to him in an dissettling way. “This is (Y/n).”


“A lot of people out there wonder why we do this job. It’s true, some days are bad. We grope around in zero visibility, hoping we grab and arm or a leg & pull someone to safety. Sometimes we can search the entire room and come up empty. Then, you hear about the kid you missed under the bed. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care how many years you’ve been on this job. You think to yourself – how did I miss that? How did I not reach a few feet further? Yes, there are days you want to pick up your helmet & chuck it in the lake. Some days you get to see things no one gets to see. A wife grateful you dragged her husband to safety, and every once in a while, you see a  baby take its first breath in a 10-car pile-up . These are the good days. You want to know what I’m thankful for – I’m thankful for because I have 2 families, and not too many people can say that.” 

day 3/100 - learn 4 idioms [spanish]

1. Quedarse de piedra - to be stunned
(lit. to stay like a stone - you’re so stunned by something that you “stay like a stone”)

2.Tirar la casa por la ventana - to spare no expense
(lit. to throw the house through the window - money is no object when it comes to buying something)

3. No tener pelos en la lengua - to be straightforward or to tell it like it is
(lit. to not have hair on the tongue - someone that will always speak their mind

4. Tomar el pelo - to pull someone’s leg
(lit. to take the hair - someone’s messing with you but in a joking manner)

anonymous asked:

People at rin's home town fear rin so much they will literally do anything he says the exwires and shura didn't believe him when he told them until he went up to this guy he didn't know and said "lay down roll over play dead and speak" in PUBLIC treating him like a dog and the guy did everything he said to do the exwires and shura were stunned and yukio didn't know people fear rin that much while this was going on rin acted like it was completely normal and laughed

Ehhhhh I feel like that’s an ooc thing for Rin to do (and while I don’t doubt he’s capable of it, he’s too sweet and kind.)

Rin may have been a punk that everyone was afraid of in Southern Cross. But he wasn’t a torturer or tyrant. 

nonochuu  asked:

For all vice captains! Their reactions when receiving a love letter from secret admirer ;p

This is going to be cute as hell

Nanao Ise: Flushing brightly, she stared at the paper with wide eyes, her captain trying to look over her shoulder the entire time. She frowned, putting the paper away while Shunsui babbled: “What is that, Nano-chan? Is it from your lover? What does it say?” She sighed, rubbing her temples and adjusting her glasses before saying she had to go somewhere. She had to find this person.

Marechiyo Omaeda: He grinned seeing the paper, happily scanning over the words over and over again, as if he hadn’t read it a million times already. Soi Fon was gone for the day..Maybe he could figure out who it was by asking around. Even if he didn’t, he would leave one of his family’s best pieces of jewelry for them in the spot that the letter was found, outside his door. Maybe they would come back to see if he had found it and would be happy to see the item there.

Izuru Kira: He stared the words down, almost scared that if he looked away they’d disappear. He had that puppy dog look about him, flushed with his bottom lip out with a smile, and wide blue eyes. He was a little shocked that someone had sent him a letter like this, and almost thought it was a trick by Rangiku and Shuuhei. Slowly though, he folded it back up, and tucked it away for safe keeping. He couldn’t help but think about how sweet it was as he made his way to the barracks.

Isane Kotetsu: The letter had been left at a table near her captains desk, and she only noticed it because it had Isane, open’ on it. Thinking it was something from the captain, a form that needed to be filled or something, she took the envelope and opened it quickly. When she started to read the letter, she realized that it clearly wasn’t from her captain, and made her eyes widen and her face red. Unohana entered soon enough, making her squeak with surprise as she asked what she was doing, and tucked the letter away for later examination.

Momo Hinamori: She stared at the letter that Shiro’s grandmother had given her, blinking as she took it and listened to her speak. “A young person dropped this in along with my mail, it said you’re name on it so I’ve held it to you.” She smiled, polite as ever, and left her to make some tea. Slowly, Momo opened it up, grinning and giggling as she read the cute note. When Shiro’s grandmother came back with the tea, she grinned: she knew who it was, but she’d never tell.

Renji Abarai: Smirking like an idiot, he leaned back into the couch as he thought about the letter. It was sweet, and very romantic even if he wasn’t really a romantic kind of guy. He thought about who it was though, trying to figure out which of his many fans would send that to him. He knew that a lot of people found him attractive, though there were only a few people that he thought could’ve wrote the letter. Well, he could investigate things later.

Tetsuzaemon Iba: Madarame and him had been fighting, recklessly while they were drunk. They had been stopped by a courier who said he had a letter for Iba, making him stare curiously at the piece of paper before he took it and opened it. The entire time Ikakku was trying to look over his shoulder, Iba read it with a swelling feeling inside his chest. “Keep it cool." he kept thinking, all the while grabbing the last of the sake bottle and going to where the letter said he should be right now. "At 4 p.m. meet me outside squad 7’s barricades.”

Shuuhei Hisagi: Turning his head along with the page, he acted almost as if the paper would disappear right in front of his eyes. It’d been left at the newspaper’s office and addressed to him, but upon reading it, it was from a secret admirer? He didn’t really believe it. He thought it was Rangiku or someone pulling his leg. When he asked around, he found no one knew where it came from, who put it there, or anything of the sort. Maybe he was right about that? Maybe it was a joke? Of course though, Rangiku denied it, claiming she hadn’t seen it before. Who sent it then?

Rangiku Matsumoto: Grinning widely, she giggled, holding the note to her chest as she started to twirl about the room. Someone had left her the absolute sweetest note ever! She loved it so much, she even told her captain about it when he came in, making him stare at her in disbelief that she got so worked up over a silly note. She shrugged him off, and instead started going on about how she felt her own love life starting to bloom. This went on through the entire day, making her start to wonder who sent it, and where they were from. Of course, she’d find them.

Mashiro Kuna: Staring at the letter in her hand, a big smile started forming on her face, she wonder who would had wrote her such a kind letter, telling about their unedifying love for them. Kensei came out and asked why was she smiling so big, but when she was about to explain he said never mind and left. She kept staring at the letter and decide she was going to figure out who wrote her it.

Yachiru Kusajishi: It was just another day of her eating sweets when someone from her squad brought the letter to her, she read it and thought it was really sweet how someone took a lot of time of writing it. When Kenpachi asked why she was so happy she giggled and took of running, trying to find the person and maybe give them some of her sweets.

Nemu Kurotsuchi: She looked over the note again, when she went into her room, the note sitting neatly on her bed with her name written on it, she read it over and over again with a blush face. When she heard Mayuri calling her name, she quickly hide the note, she was going to have to find the person one day and say how much it meant to her.

Rukia Kuchiki: Her face turning a few shades of pink, Rukia stared at the note, it had little bunny and hearts all around her name. She read the little about ten times but she still was in shock on how someone liked her. Once she was done, she would put the letter away and try to find the writer.

anonymous asked:

I hate to be that person, but how do you know the PR anon is for real? I mean, personally, I doubt if a PR person would even be lurking in Tumblr? Maybe someone is pulling your leg?

Ehhhh….they were remarkably similar to a different, previous anon @quirkyanya had awhile back (who was almost always right), I’ve had a publicist anon contact me previously (and was correct), they were right about the “new project this weekend”. I’ve had a similar purely anon contact me before with similar information (and be correct)…..

They also sent me things in confidence I didn’t publish

AND, as I already said, if they did turn out to be trolling, so be it….

And you are absolutely being “that person”

sincerely-leahh  asked:

okay story time: since I’m the middle child, I’m all the way in the back of the house next to the fire escape. and since my room is smallish, my bed has to be pressed up against said fire escape; and I woke up one night, still tired as hell, to someone pulling their leg from the window and right next to my head; and slowly closing the window. I screamed and pushed the person down onto the floor (and inevitably into my door and door knob) come to find out it was my sister who had just sneaked out

oh my god

Speaking clearly

When speaking to someone who’s neurodivergent, it is often incredibly important to be clear and precise with what you are saying.

Once I’ve done a task once, usually I’ll know in the future how to repeat it; but as obvious as it may seem to the rest of the world - the first time I do it I’ll have no idea what I’m doing. For example: don’t ask me to help search for your keys - tell me to look in the car and in the drawers for your car keys (otherwise I’ll look in all the places that I usually look - which I started looking in because they’re the places I always see you look - regardless of whether or not you’ve already looked there).

I need a recipe sheet of tasks if I’m going to be able to complete them. You wouldn’t expect a first time cook to know what to do from a page that just said ‘make bread’. I’ll be the same if you ask me to set up a display or basically do anything I haven’t done a million times before.

For anyone who has ever done computer programming, my brain works like that. I will do literally as you ask of me - no more and no less; and if you want a function to be carried out, you have to define it first.

Another reason that you have you be clear with me is that I don’t understand subtlety and subtext. I understand that when someone says ‘pulling your leg’ they don’t usually mean it literally, but only because I’ve heard it a lot of times before and had it explained to me.

If you want me to leave, you have to tell me to leave. If you want me to stop talking, you have to say ‘stop talking’. I won’t get offended or upset by being told that, but I will if I can feel that people are getting frustrated with me but I don’t understand why.

Also, I’m unlikely to understand when a person is flirting with me. I need ridiculously clear signals, and I need you to make sure that what you hear is what I’m saying so that I don’t end up in a situation I don’t want to be in.

Basically, be clear and direct, and don’t be offended when I do the same.

Taking Bisexual Books to the White House

This past Monday, as we kicked off Bi Visibility Week, the White House held its Bisexual Community Policy Briefing and I was one of the 80+ bisexuals invited to participate. Now, everything that went on in that meeting was off the record, so I can’t say what we said to the White House, or what they said to us, sorry–kind of a buzzkill there, I know. But I will say the things that I can.

I can say that we were heard, whatever it was we said. This is good.

I can say that when I initially received my invitation I thought someone was pulling my leg. I was so certain I was being pranked by a friend that I deleted my e-invitation to attend the White House! It wasn’t until other bi leaders in my circles starting discussing their invites that I realized I wasn’t being pranked and moved the invite back into my inbox.

I can say the invitation was such an honor to me that, once I believed it, I was equal parts amazed and shocked to be invited. What makes me so special? This is a question to which I still lack an answer. Whatever the reason, I embraced the opportunity.

I can say the entire experience has been incredibly moving. Over my four days in D.C. I met and heard the stories of so many of my bisexual brothers and sisters. Every one of them deeply resonated in my heart. We, as a people, have so many traumas, so many hardships, so much strength and endurance. We are survivors. We are beautiful. We are many. And we are real.

I can say that I often felt lost surrounded by so many others who have been at the front lines of the bisexual rights movement for so long, and thankful for coming to know so many of them while finding a place for myself within my community.

I can say that after our meeting there was a very confused man with a megaphone in the street abutting the White House, shouting hellfire and judgment for all to hear. And I can say that we marched and chanted and protested at this man, raising our voices over his, waving flags and screaming chants of bisexual pride until he then chose to vacate the scene.

I can say that I will carry this experience with me always and cherish the new friends I have made. 


An Explanation

At this time of year I often feel a need to explain myself.  Especially this year. I apologize for the length of this.

I’ve never been to Romania. I am not Romanian, though I am of Romanian ancestry; my relatives came to the United States in the early 20th century.  While I had little contact with actual Romanians, my grandfather would often comment on various things as hints of “Romanian-ness” I suppose as a way of keeping memories of that culture alive, although he too was born in the US.  "You like black pepper so much because you’re Romanian", and so on, though I have no idea whether Romanians even like black pepper better than anyone else. Still, even though I had never been there, and knew little of the culture, the idea of Romania was always there in the back of my head somewhere.

24 years ago I was a junior high school student in a suburban town in the San Francisco Bay Area in California.  While we were, at that time, still recovering from a massive earthquake it was otherwise a quiet, safe, and generally boring place.  At the same time, events were unfolding on the other side of the world which captivated me then and ever since.   That summer we had seen the protests followed by massacre in Tiananman Square in China, while simultaneously the Solidarity movement in Poland grew to a boil.  And then in November came the fall of the Berlin Wall. The “thaw” spread quickly, to Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Romania. I was fascinated by these events, particularly the dramatic and violent form that revolution took in Romania, where “my” people had come from.

Many years later, in 2005, I had already been making electronic music for some time, had already released a couple of albums, and had an old Yamaha DX-11 synthesizer and wanted to do a project in which that instrument played a central role.  At this same time, Youtube was brand new, and in exploring the massive amount of video content that had already been uploaded I quickly found that the site contained quite a lot of historical footage of the events of 1989 in central and eastern Europe.  I spent hours and hours poring through all of it, focusing largely on Romania.  As someone who has always been interested in history it was mindblowing to have such a massive collection of historical footage at my fingertips.  And so naturally I began to play music along to this footage. The DX-11 synthesizer was itself built around this same time, and the sounds I had created on it (some of them many years earlier) seemed a perfect fit. 

That’s where the idea began to make an album focused on the events of 1989 in Romania, using sounds from this historical footage and compositions written for the DX-11.  I decided to include a couple of other elements - found sounds recorded from industrial and construction sites, and samples of Romanian music of the late 80’s, both the state-sponsored “ethnic” music of the time, and pop music.. especially that of the singer Mihaela Runceanu, whose beautiful music and sad story I found while doing background research for the project.  I began cobbling these elements together into a whole, the sounds and samples wrapped around melodies written on the synthesizer, and created a structure that loosely followed the chronological order of historical events as I understood them through reading and watching.

At many points I stopped and questioned my “right” to make an album about a historical event I had no part of, in a country I had never been to, a culture to which I was connected only very loosely by long dead relatives and the strange interpretations of my grandfather.  But I never stopped long. To be honest, while I am constantly driven to create music, I’ve never been quite as driven as I was while making this album.  It was a very different process from anything else I’ve done before or since, and now seven years after the release of 1989 I still look back on it as something very different from all of my other work. The issue of my “right” seemed secondary to the fact that the music itself wanted to be made.  As deliberate as the structure was, I realized I was not entirely in control of what I was making.  It was because of that compulsion, and because of the fact that it was not meant to be a historical “document” but rather an artistic impression of the ideas of Romania and its revolution that I continued the project and, when it was complete, released it to the public. 

This was in early 2006 and I was, of course, completely unknown. Releasing an album to “the public” meant putting it on my barely-trafficed website and a couple of forums I frequented.  Social media as we know it today was only just barely coming into existence, and I knew absolutely nothing about promotion.  And yet, somehow, the music found its way to Romania. Not in a major way, but it was covered by several Romanian blogs, I was contacted by a journalist from a fair sized Romanian newspaper.  At which point, I was told, there was even an article about it in Romania’s equivalent of “Entertainment Weekly”, though I’ve never seen it and maybe someone was pulling my leg.  The response was unexpectedly positive, though obviously some people had not wanted to hear the voice of Nicolai Ceaucescu again.  For a time I received occasional emails from Romanians both in the country and abroad, thanking me for the work. No one challenged my “right” to have done it.  And yet I continue to challenge myself with that same question.

In spite of the subject it covers, 1989 is not a political work. It is not “counter-revolutionary” or “anti-Communist” nor is it “pro-Communist” or any other kind of statement on Romania’s system of government before or after the Revolution of 1989.  It is in many ways a very personal album, a response to the ideas and the aesthetics of what I had seen and felt when the events happened on the opposite side of the world of where I was growing up, and when I re-watched those same events through the footage I found many years later. 

Today is the 27th of December, a date often referenced as the end of the revolution. 24 years ago today, Romanians were beginning to put together the next phase of their country’s life - and many complicated events have happened since that time, and are still happening today.  At many points this year, protestors have filled the squares of Bucharest and other Romanian cities, and I continue to watch from the other side of the world. 

Much has changed for me as an artist since I made 1989.  I’ve become a sound designer and composer in the theatre world in NYC, I have released several more albums as Disparition covering a number of other themes and concepts, and thanks to the show Welcome to Night Vale the audience for Disparition has grown enormously.  An audience, I suspect, that was mostly very young or maybe not even born yet when the Romanian Revolution occurred. 

When Joseph Fink emailed me asking if he could use my music for Welcome to Night Vale I was happy to agree, and made no restrictions or rules as to what he could use or how.  And so the use of the music in the show is based on how he and Jeffrey feel individual pieces best fit individual plot points and other parts of the podcast. Consequently, some of the individual pieces from 1989 have found their way into the show.  I get occasional emails from people telling me that they are unable to track down this or that piece of music from the show and could I help them find it.  For some reason, one of the most common pieces of music people tend to ask about is the track “Timisoara”, from 1989, which is used in several episode of the show.

I often wonder if the people who are discovering my music now look at the track titles and the name of the album and piece together what it’s about.  Obviously, anyone from Romania, especially anyone my age or older, will probably get it.  But since a lot of the people who listen to my music now are younger, and grew up in an time when the Eastern Bloc seems like ancient history, maybe it’s not so obvious.

And so, I’ve written this to explain myself- what the album is really about, and why I as an American decided to make it.  I make music about all kinds of things but if there is one central underlying theme, it is history.  The name of this project is “Disparition” partly because that’s what history does, it disappears.  With the advent of technologies such as audio recording and photography and video and now the ubiquitous camera phone, maybe it will start to disappear more slowly than it has in previous centuries, but while artifacts can remain for millennia it is meaning that fades.  We can look at graffiti carved into walls by the ancient Romans, but we can’t know what they felt while they were doing it, and their reasons can only be guessed at. 

1989 is not an artifact, though it contains some.  It’s not a documentary in any sense.  It is not meant to convey any truth other than my own personal emotional response to my perception of these events, a perception from a distance.  I’m explaining this in the hope that at least some people have gotten down here to the end of this rather long post and will look into this time and place and attach their own meaning and response to it, whether they were there in the flesh or had as little to do with it as myself.  And in the hope that, at some point in the future, I can remove some of the distance between myself and this place, and take this music in person to where it really comes from and belongs.