just hit 30k in my jegulus fest fic,,,,im really proud of myself wow
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so im doing a preliminary translation course french-dutch in january which if i do it well enough i can do the real course starting september, and you dont need any official recognition of your level in either language they just say you have to master your working language (ie dutch here) well and that your passive knowledge of your source language has to be good, around at least b2
and, okay, ive been told i do set too high standards, but like, that feels,,,,,cheating isnt exactly the word but like. if i couldnt make the sentence, then how could i ever hope to translate it well into another language you know what i mean?
im glad, because my chances are way better to get my passive french to b2 than my active french before january, im probably already there, but like, im still gonna try to get my active french there too right?
like it just feels so.....precarious. to only have b2 and to dare to try and put a sentence into your own language? if i couldnt have made the sentence, then i would never think i can write it as correctly as possible in another language. honestly.
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funny fact about me getting into the x files that i don't think i've ever shared on here!! i was binging on netflix of course, and really only hung around on the wikipedia page for the first couple seasons, so i got through them relatively unspoiled. then in the middle of season 3, i decided to write my first review of the show on this stupid little WordPress blog i had back then (we don't have to talk about that), and when i posted it and tagged it on tumblr, i decided to go into the x files tag to see if anyone even still talked about this old show from the 90s... and holy shit, the tag was full of stuff, and i was SO hooked on this show, and SO desperately waiting for mulder and scully to get together, that i couldn't resist the new content!! i scrolled for hours and promptly spoiled... MOST... of the show for myself. i was in disbelief that the shoe never explicitly really gets mulder and scully together the way i was expecting
at the time, finishing my viewing of the show was kind of a drag once i got through like season 6 or 7, because i had spoiled every major emotional moment in the show for myself (i was like watching clips ahead on youtube like a horrible fan!), and i was so excited to get new episodes, to the point where things couldn't be spoiled bc i was watching stuff live. and then someone leaked the details of the shows finale on reddit
now, i think maybe me getting spoiled was a blessing in disguise. the first time, because i think it would've been a bummer to binge the whole show and discover i would only ever get crumbs (plus going into stuff like scully giving up william blind). the second because it gave me time to prepare for the finale and get to acceptance
but it's still so funny to me
and as much as i love the show from all angles, i don't think anything has ever felt as special as my blind binge of those first two seasons at age 14
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i hate my town i hate the people in it i hate the shame that consumes us all i hate that every failure might as well be posted in the square because everyone knows everyone i hate that my grandparents are here and i hate that my mother came back for them i hate that the kids are dying and no one cares i hate that every good memory has a bad memory right next door like sam's house around the corner from my childhood home i hate the body they pulled from the river i hate the memory of hearing yellow by coldplay at my cousin's funeral because all i could think was that it was too modern for the situation but then he was only seventeen so it makes sense i hate that i was seventeen too and all the boys i knew were there his friends that were supposed to be the tough guys the scary guys i hate that i pretended not to see them sobbing i hate that everything smells of cigarettes here i hate the politics i hate the people i used to love that dont even smile at me on the street i hate that the girl who called me a slut works at my favourite bar i hate every alley and hidden shortcut and i hate that i know them like the back of my hand i hate the same fucking coffee shops i sat in when i was fourteen and scared and now im nineteen and scared and i hate that it's exactly what this town wants i hate that it wants anger i hate that it wants fear i hate that it wants shame i hate that i can give it everything
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okay but like a cozy, rainy day with rooster. you stay in bed all day cuddling, napping, reading, watching movies/tv shows, etc. you order take out for dinner and later decide to drive to get ice cream. the windows on his bronco are down, the air is cool from the rain. you’re both singing along to one of oldies playlists he’s made. he’s driving with one hand, the other either on your knee or holding your hand. at a red light he leans over and kisses your forehead as he tells you he loves you, then goes right back to singing. after you’re back home, you both share a bath before climbing back under the covers for the night. you play with his damp curls as he gently rubs your back until you both fall asleep
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entering 'fine, I'll do it myself' mode because the exact fanfic I want to read doesn't exist (yet).
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