i have got one of my works translate to russian which was so weird

Russian Bucky

Request: Can I request? Bucky pretending not to know English n only speaking Romanian/Russian and he overhears you talking about him so he’s like wtf but then he hears you saying some kinky shit and so he kind of plays along and when it’s all goin down he’s still talking in R/R and suddenly he whispers something in your ear in English and you’re like oh shit - @oh-my-gerd


You’ve gotten used to hearing Bucky’s language now. It surprised you at first when he greeted you in a Russian language, one which you couldn’t speak or understand. You thought he spoke English, but you were definitely wrong. You tried to understand what he would say, sometimes you’d even call Natasha and ask her what Bucky was saying, to which she would translate happily.

The fact that Bucky couldn’t speak English had you thinking that he definitely couldn’t understand it. So, you talked about Bucky, with Natasha mostly, about how nice and kind he was. Other times, for example: after a hard training session when Bucky’s all sweaty and shirtless, you’d blabber on and on to Nat about how badly you wanted him to just take control and have his way with you.

You were currently having one of those many moments.

You breathed out as you entered the kitchen for some water. Nat was leaning against the kitchen island, munching on some apple slices. You had just worked out for the morning and Bucky had walked in during your last ten minutes. He was shirtless, like always, and this time he wore sweats instead of his usual basketball shorts. When you say you could see everything, you meant everything. There was no hiding what he had.

Nat greeted you with a smile, but it turned into a smirk when she saw your lust blown eyes and red tinted cheeks. “What is it now, Y/N?” Nat asked in her usual sultry tone. You sighed again and shook your head as you remembered Bucky’s jumping jacks and what the movement caused. “Oh my god. Bucky’s body will be the death of me.” You said with a small giggle. Nat blushed and coughed into her hand.

You smirked as you got a bottle of water and started chugging it. “Y/N, that’s so weird.” Nat said, her voice clearly giving her away. You stopped drinking and looked at Nat, scoffing. “Oh come on, you know you’d say yes if he asked you to bend over the weight bench and let him fuck you until your abdomen bruised from how hard he was pounding you into it!” You said rather loudly. Nat gasped and threw an apple slice at you, her cheeks flaming. “Y/N, you do NOT think about that do you!?” Nat asked, her face full of entertainment.

It was your turn to be red in the face now. “I mean.” You said, drawing out the words, your eyebrows raised. Nat gasped again. “God, Y/N! You’re so lucky he can’t speak English.” Nat said with a giggle. You sighed. “Yeah, I doubt he’d know what I meant if I asked him to bang me.” You said, not noticing the shadowed figure near the door now.

Nat nodded and finished her snack. She crossed her arms and bit her lip. “I could always ask.” Nat said, a smirk on her face. You threw your empty water bottle at her and she quickly blocked it. “Hell no! He would not do that. It’s just a fantasy anyways.” You said a little quieter now.

Nat suddenly cleared her throat and your eyes followed hers. You saw Bucky walking in, his body coated with sweat and his sweatpants pulled up to his knees. Your face burned red and even though you knew he couldn’t speak or understand English, you felt embarrassed thinking he might’ve heard what you just said.

Bucky gave you and Nat a small smile and a nod, moving past you to get a water bottle. You looked at Nat and she had her hand over her mouth, holding in her laughs. The silence in the room was awkward and your heart was pounding in your chest.

You shot Nat a glare and stopped when Bucky turned to you. “Могу ли я поговорить с вами?” Bucky asked, capping his water bottle. Your eyebrows raised and you tried not to look down at his shirtless body. You looked at Nat for translation help. She smirked. “He wants to talk to you.” You gulped and turned back to Bucky.

A small “Uh huh” fell from your lips and a simple nod was all it took and Bucky had gripped your hand and he was pulling you out of the room. Your eyebrows creased together and your nervousness grew as you looked back at Nat’s shocked face. You had no idea where Bucky was taking you or what he wanted.

“Bucky?” You asked softly. He turned to you and stopped at the open doors to the gym. “Хотите тренироваться со мной?” Bucky asked, leading you into the gym. You didn’t understand what he said and Nat wasn’t here to help you out. You looked around the gym and sighed. “Friday, can you translate what Bucky asked?” You quietly questioned.

You watched Bucky shut the wooden gym doors and turn the lock. Your heart started racing again. “English translation: Do you want to train with me?” Friday said, answering your question. You sighed out and looked at Bucky. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to the weight bench.

Your stomach dropped and he pointed for you to lie down under the weight bar with 20lb weights on the ends of it. You looked up at Bucky from where you were lying down. You knew something was up because Bucky worked out just before and you were there doing the same. So you weren’t sure why he wanted to continue training with you. He could’ve chosen Steve or even Sam.

Going along with it, you gently wrapped your hands around the bar. Bucky was standing above you and you had a clear view of his crotch if you tilted your head back just a tad. You could feel yourself getting wet already. Bucky’s hands guiding yours brought you out of your dirty thoughts. He helped you lift the bar and you breathed in and out steadily, lifting the bar up and down.

You and Bucky trained for about ten minutes more and the whole time, he had his hands on your body in some way or another. He helped you do your squats and lunges, he held your feet down when you did your crunches, and now he was helping you with push ups. You didn’t need the help, but his hands were a blessing to you, so you allowed it.

Bucky’s flesh hand was resting on your lower back as you did your push ups and you felt it move down slowly, giving your ass a light squeeze. You gasped and dropped your body down onto the mat, turning your head to look at Bucky. He had a smirk on his face and you sat up on your hands and knees. Bucky’s eyes trailed down your body and he tugged his bottom lip in between his teeth.

You stood to your feet and sighed out, wiping the sweat from your brow. “Is that why you wanted to train with me? To stare at my ass and try to feel me up?” You asked, knowing he couldn’t understand you. You were unsure of what Bucky’s intentions were. It’s not like he could just tell you, he can’t speak English. Bucky smirked again, though his features showed confusion. Bucky then looked into your eyes. “Я хотел бы ебать.” Bucky said, his voice low.

A frustrating sigh left your lips. You couldn’t understand him once again, so you asked Friday. “Friday, translate that, please.” You said, watching Bucky step closer to you. Your heart started to beat even faster as your cheeks burned red. “English translation: I’d like to fuck.” Friday said, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

Bucky closed the distance between you two and he captured your lips in a kiss. Bucky’s lips were moving roughly against yours, his hands pulling you closer to his shirtless body. You moaned into the kiss and felt Bucky bend down to pick you up. Bucky pulled away, gasping for air as his blue eyes stared into yours.

He looked like he was asking for approval so you nodded. Bucky smirked and carried you over to the weight bench where you both undressed. Thinking he thought it was better than the mat and not that he understood what you said about him earlier, you smirked as Bucky set you down on the weight bench. He was about to hover above you, but you smirked and got down on your knees, bending over the bench like you’ve fantasized about many times.

Bucky chuckled and came up behind you, rubbing your soaked pussy with his flesh hand. You gasped and moaned softly, moving your hips back against his hand. Bucky moved behind you and you could feel the tip of his cock rubbing against the opening of your pussy now.

You whimpered as you moved your hips back and forth, getting impatient. “Bucky, please.” You moaned out. Bucky’s hands now rested on your hips as he slid into you, immediately starting to pound into your pussy. Your body jolted against the bench and you squealed, feeling just how big Bucky’s cock was. You never imagined it’d feel this good.

Bucky was grunting and his hips were slapping against yours hard and fast. You gasped as he hit your g-spot and Bucky chuckled deeply. “That feel good, Princess?” Bucky asked, making your face turn red and your moans come to an embarrassing halt. “Wh-what?” You asked, your heart racing in your chest.

Did Bucky just speak English or were you hearing things? Bucky bent over your back, his sweaty chest molding onto the skin of your back. You could feel Bucky’s cock twitch inside of you and you gasped slightly. Bucky’s mouth was beside your ear now and his breath was warm against your skin. “I asked if that felt good.” Bucky said in clear English, not a fault in his phrasing.

Your mouth fell open and Bucky chuckled again, his thrusts starting up again. Your face was red as can be and you could feel the heat rising around your neck. Bucky was able to speak English this whole time, meaning he understood every word you’ve ever said to him up to this very moment.

A moan fell from your lips and you decided to scold Bucky after he fucked you senseless. “It does.” You said softly, answering his question. Bucky groaned and continued to fuck you. Your abdomen was rubbing against the weight bench but it felt amazing. Bucky slammed into you and you moaned loudly, feeling your pussy clench as your orgasm got closer.

Bucky’s hands reached up to your ponytail and he tugged on it, causing your head to jerk back. “Oh, fuck yes!” You moaned and felt Bucky slap your ass with his metal hand. A growl escaped Bucky’s lips as your pussy clenched around his thick cock for the second time. “I’m gonna cum, Bucky.” You moaned out, feeling Bucky’s hand reach under you to rub your clit fast.

You started to cum around Bucky, broken sobs and moans falling from your lips as you felt Bucky’s cum shooting out inside of you in hot spurts. “You’re so good, yes. Oh my god. Fuck!” Bucky yelled, pounding into you as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned at the foul language coming from the man behind you.

A few minutes passed and you and Bucky lazily lied down on the mat, looking up at the ceiling. “How long?” You quietly asked, afraid to look over at Bucky. He chuckled. “Since forever.” You turned your head to look at Bucky, your face full of shock. “You idiot!”, you slapped Bucky’s arm, “Why didn’t you say something?” You asked shockingly.

You put your clothes back on and Bucky hurriedly did the same. You crossed your arms and stared at Bucky. His face turned red and he sighed. “I didn’t really feel like talking to everyone at first. Then I started hearing you talk about me and-I don’t know.” Bucky said, looking at you apologetically.

Bucky stepped closer to you and grabbed your hand in his. “That was fun, though.” He said softly with a smirk. Your face started heating up again and you rolled your eyes, though your lips formed a smile. “Ugh, you’re mental, Barnes.” You said with a giggle. Bucky smirked and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Am I still mental if I ask for a round 2 later tonight?”

Note: this was so much fun to write. I hope you like it and of course, you can request anytime you’d like, sweetie! feedback is welcome! .c

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anonymous asked:

Fickyfuck kid here. That's my best sentence I've ever written in my life and I used to write stories. (Writers block is a bitch and I have no where to write so it's just like I give my life to learning Russian... HOLD UP IDEA MAN y'all could do a reaction of the RFA to MC that just starts randomly talking in Russian not even realizing it. Holy fuck I wasn't planning this to happen, y'all don't need to write it (I totally get if you don't want to)) ~Your local fickyfuck

A/N: fickyfuck is still on my list of all time favourite sayings iloveyou  AAAAAAAAA I ONLY KNOW A FEW DIFFERENT (and very…very random) PHRASES IN RUSSIAN SO I HOPE I SPELT THEM RIGHT AND YA KNOW DIDN’T SAY SOMETHING REALLY RUDE OR WEIRD WITHOUT KNOWING IT (tho let’s be honest here, this is ME we’re talking about….) ^^;;;;; ~Admin 404



           -He came home early from class one day and found you playing video games!

           -Though, he wasn’t sure what game because???? He kept hearing another language?

           -Wait that…sounds like your voice

           -Maybe you’re speaking along to the game? Some made up language?

           -He walked into the room behind you and looked at the screen but there weren’t any characters talking

           -You were just running around, fighting whatever monsters popped up, but he still heard this muttering? Where in the world could this be coming from???

           -“Возьми это! Ты тупой монстр … Я истинный рыцарь этого мира … Ешь мой меч !!”

           -“Um.. MC? What was that?”

           -HE SCARED THE HELL OUT OF YOU!!! -which, incidentally, scared him too- and you had to have him explain what he was hearing. Maybe he was just hearing things??

           -After describing what he heard you realized that you were mumbling in Russian, and had to explain to him that you were the one talking. You were just trash talking the monsters in the game! He was really impressed that you knew Russian, and can’t believe he never knew!!! Completely amazed every time you switch to it, no matter how often he’s heard it


           -It was after a performance from his, and you were star struck!!

           -It was the best show you’ve seen in your life!

           -His singing!!!! It’s amazing at home but seeing it oN STAGE!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOLE DIFFERENT THING!!

           -You ran up to him once he was off stage and your mind was running so fast that you didn’t even realize you switched to Russian when congratulating him

           -“Это было удивительно! Так хорошо! Я так горжусь тобой!”

           -He was happy to see you! You look so cute when you’re that excited!

           -Though he had NO idea what you were saying, he kind of went along with it

           -Full of smiles, nods, and “Yeah!”

           -Until you finally realized he had no idea what you were saying and said the whole thing again so he could understand you

           -He loves when you switch to Russian because that means you’re really excited!!! And really excited MC is a really cute MC!! Also really appreciates that you’ll say everything again just so he can understand what you’re so excited about! literally sprints to the other room when he hears any sort of russian because??? what if he misses his MC looking cute


           -When working for Jumin, one must know a few different languages

           -Well, at least have some sort of understanding of them

           -So when you switched to Russian while telling her what kind of coffee you wanted, it took her a little bit to realize you had switched

           -The only reason she knew you switched is because you started to say some uncommon words that she didn’t understand

           -She knows the basics such as “hello”, “how are you”, you know, smaller phrases!

           -Not…whatever you had told her

           -“Я хочу, чтобы этот кофе … это своего рода вкус … поджаренный зефир!”

           -“I’m… I’m sorry, MC, what is it that you want?”

           -???? OH SORRY BAEHEE

           -It was really no problem for her, but seeing how embarrassed you tended to get when you switch languages made her wish you did it more often!! She thinks its adorable! Also, secretly studies more Russian to understand you!


           -He’s done business with other people who speak Russian as well

           -So, of course, he’s taught himself Russian!

           - among other languages as well

           -What he didn’t know, though, is that you know Russian as well??

           -When he came home one day to hear someone speaking Russian, he was extremely confused

           - who the fuck got past my guards

           -Until he recognized your lovely voice! What made him smile was the fact that you were complimenting Elizabeth, and showing her your love

           -“Вы очаровательны! Так мило! Я люблю тебя!”

           -So, of course, he walks into the room and compliments her in Russian as well! It may have startled you a little bit, but you quickly got over it!

           -He usually has to point out when you’re speaking Russian to others, and enjoys seeing how flustered you get when you apologize. When the two of you are at home, however, he doesn’t mind if you accidently switch to Russian because??? He understands it, why would it be a bother? He just responds normally to whatever you say!


           -He had to learn a BUNCH of different languages when he was an agent!

           -So…. of course he knows Russian!

           -But the real question here is….

           -When did YOU learn Russian??

           -He didn’t see anywhere on your record that you spoke Russian!!!!

           -So when you randomly switched to Russian while mid-conversation with him, he didn’t even blink an eye

           -“Есть что-нибудь вы хотите на обед, кроме чипсов?”

           -When you asked him if he wanted anything for lunch besides chips, he responded right back in Russian!

           -It doesn’t faze him at all! Never hesitates to respond back to you, and doesn’t care if you do it in public, in fact, he makes a game out of it. “How many people can we confuse?: Park edition”

           -Sucks for the people around you who can’t speak Russian! ESPECIALLY if you do it in the group chat! Refuses to translate for everyone else! Also loves messing with everyone by telling you inappropriate things in Russian in front of everyone else but refuses if Jumin’s there because he knows he can speak it as well


           -It actually really surprised him!!

           -He’s picked up a few phrases here and there from travelling, but WOW

           -You knew the whole language!!!

           -He asked you to describe what you felt when you looked at a photograph he just took

           -But did not expect you to respond back in RUSSIAN??

           -“Это заставляет меня чувствовать себя сухо и комфортно!”

           -“I’m…I’m sorry sweetheart, what was that? I only know a few basic words in Russian…”


           -IMMEDIATELY TAKES A PICTURE. Also vows to take a picture of you each time you realize you’re speaking in Russian. He wants to make a whole photo album about it!!

           -Honestly loves when you’re speaking Russian!! He’s starting to actually pick up on a few words here and there because of you! Believes if he listens to you mumble to yourself enough, he’ll learn the whole language too!


           -What the hell did you just say to me

           -Honestly has no idea what you’re saying

           -Isn’t even sure what language it was??? MC??? Explain??

           -He was just innocently sitting on the couch, watching some TV when you walked behind him and spouted off what he thought was nonsense

           -“Эй, что новое шоу вы хотите смотреть приходит на несколько минут.”

           -“What the fuck does that meAN”

           -Took you longer than you wanted to admit to realize you told him in Russian

           -After you translated for him, he pouts

           -He’ll go out later that day and buy a ton of books to learn Russian


anonymous asked:

Could you please show us how to make gifs? Because this is siriusly beyond me! Thanks 🌿

+ Can you make a tutorial on making a gif the way you do please?            

okay i’ll try to show it the way i do it but my photoshop is in russian so translation will be off and i’m not sure this will be easy to understand if you’ve never had any encounters with photoshop before

Keep reading


Cold Case File – Necrosleep.net – 4/18/2023
The following account is the only surviving evidence supporting the existence of Necrosleep.net. The blog data was downloaded by a concerned reader just before it vanished from the internet in 2014. The data was not recovered until 9 years passed. These are the final moments of Reed Murdock, written in his own words.


My Disconnected Life

Blog author: Reed Murdock

October 16th, 2014

Hey guys, so I’ve decided to start a blog about my new life. Most of you reading this are probably my friends and acquaintances, but for the rest of you I’ll expose a little bit about myself. My name’s Reed, I just moved out of my stupid parents’ basement (thank God) and now I’m pursuing my own life where no one can push me around anymore. Technically I’m the one who ditched the place, but they all but kicked me out beforehand. Nobody gives a damn about a “crackhead” like me, not even my parents. Not that I care.

Anyways, I’m doing my own thing now. I had to give up a few luxuries, my Mom’s hellacious cooking not worthy of being called a luxury. I’d much rather live off discount ramen noodles anyways. Sometimes I’ll even have corn on the side when I’m feeling extra fancy.

Speaking of fancy, I’ll admit my apartment is anything but. It’s the cheapest one I could find, in fact. I find the saying “you get what you pay for” to be especially true when I’m trying to sleep to the lulling sound of what I can only guess is some old lady getting mugged in the dark alleyway next door. My ghetto sanctuary consists of one living room, a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a closet. The walls are practically made of cardboard and the carpet is stained with God knows what, but it’s good enough for me.

Living with me is my poor excuse for a cat named Twig. She’s one of those weird hairless breeds, and in turn, a real conversation piece. I’m often asked why the cat’s turned inside out, or if she was the victim of some perverse taxidermy project gone wrong.

As shoddy as my life seems, living on the cheap has its benefits. My cost of living is next to nothing, so I can make enough money to survive by doing odd jobs on the internet without ever leaving the house. I spend half of the month writing bogus reviews for products I’ve never used and filling out surveys on political issues I know nothing about, then spend the other half surfing the web and watching pirated reruns of The X-Files. I don’t even have to pay for internet service thanks to my neighbors’ complete failure to secure their Wi-Fi hotspot. I bet their data overages are through the roof now. Oh well, not my problem.

I’ll be updating this blog every day or two if I’m up to anything interesting. Thanks for reading this boring crap, hopefully my life will get a little more exciting in the days to come.


October 18th, 2014

I’ve decided to do something unusual. It’s 3AM and I intend to stay up all night, caffeinated beverages at my side. Why am I doing this, you ask? Because I’m permanently switching to a nocturnal sleep schedule. In other words, I’ll be sleeping during the day instead of the night. I have a number of good reasons for doing this:

1. There’s less people out at night, so leaving the building won’t be such a dreaded thing.

2. Sunlight gives you cancer, right?

3. Screw social norms.

4. The internet speed seems to increase substantially after midnight.

5. It’s a free country, I don’t even need reasons.

Also, I ran into this cool forum called Nocturnal Underground. Naturally, it’s full of sun-loathing recluses and cynical misanthropes like me. How perfect. I registered straight away and found the forum-dwellers to be very welcoming. It’s not the most famous of internet destinations, more of a tight-knit hole in the wall for a very obscure subculture.

We all seem to share a general appreciation for societal disconnect, which is cool, because I really thought I was the only wackjob who can’t stand dealing with normal people. After all, it’s these normal people who are telling me I don’t have the right to smoke whatever substances I damn well please, as if it’s their business.

I’ll let you all know how this whole nocturnal thing works for me. Peace out.


October 21st, 2014

I’m adjusting very well to my new lifestyle. I can already tell this is the way I should’ve been living all along. The internet is a far more interesting place during the night.

Everything has been fairly normal lately, except for one thing.

Yesternight, I received a mysterious private message on Nocturnal Underground. Here’s the message copied and pasted for your reading pleasure:

To: Reedman07

From: Revelation666

Subject: Necrosleep.net

Congratulations Reedman07. You’ve been invited to an invitation-only website that will change your life forever. Discover what society doesn’t want you to know at Necrosleep.net

Use your exclusive invitation code to enter: DCLXVI

Find out what you’ve been missing your entire life.


Sounds like a total scam, but it piqued my interest. I couldn’t resist going to the site just to see what the hell it was.

So I went there, and arrived at a completely empty black page. I noticed the text cursor blinking in the center, indicating that I could type there. I presumed that this was where I was supposed to type the invitation code, and I presumed correctly.

When the home page loaded, I immediately noticed that all of the text was in Russian besides the title header, which simply said “Necrosleep.net” in English. My web browser automatically detected that the site was Russian and offered to translate it for me, so of course I clicked yes.

Now, this site was clearly on the shady side. Whoever designed it was certainly not well versed in web design, as the site had more in common with a notepad document than a good webpage. The background was black, the white text was written in the oh-so-generic Courier font, and under the title header was a row of red hyperlinks labeled as follows: Main, Purchase, Secret, and Credit. Here’s an excerpt from the main page:

Welcome to Necrosleep.net

This website is invitation-only. Selected visitors have exclusive access to our special product that will change your life forever.

Necrosleep is a product that safely negates the biological necessity of sleep, thanks to our miraculous secret formula. With one pill a day, you will never feel the need to sleep again.

Try it for yourself by clicking the purchase link. If Necrosleep doesn’t change your life, we will offer you a complete refund.

Your astonishment is guaranteed.

What a bold claim these people are making. There’s no way this stuff actually works, otherwise everyone would be taking it. Obviously I was skeptical, and still am, but I clicked around the site a bit more just out of curiosity. I clicked the “Secret” hyperlink, which took me to another page. Here’s the text from said page:

Necrosleep is comprised of special and rare ingredients, which we cannot disclose in order to ensure that our formula stays in private hands. In order to keep our product available, it can only be distributed through alternative means on an exclusive basis.

The active ingredient in Necrosleep has been sought after for years by doctors and scientists intending to displace sleep with wakefulness. Only we have managed to do what others could not, as permitted by the will of our master.

We can assure you with full confidence that our product will change your life, and you will never feel need to sleep again.

Feel free to indulge in our secret.

Alternative means? More like black market. Whatever’s going on here doesn’t appear to be… legal, exactly. Not that I care about the law, I just get untrustworthy vibes from this site.

Anyways, I continued on and clicked the “Credit” hyperlink. My heart skipped a little when I was confronted with honestly the most uncanny photo of a living person I’ve ever seen. It was an old black and white photo of a tall man in a doctor’s coat. If he wasn’t standing upright, I’d say the guy was dead, but my guess is that he was just cadaverously unhealthy, and probably blind from the looks of his pale, lifeless eyes. Not a trace of emotion could be found in his face.

There was a small bit text below the photo, which read as follows:

Credit for the pioneering of Necrosleep goes to the brilliant Dr. Hail A. Stan, proxy of our master, and founder of the Ukrainian Institute of Occult Medicine. His work lives on.

Proxy of our master? Occult medicine? Maybe I’ve watched too many horror movies, but this isn’t your typical snake oil sales pitch. Maybe they’re part of some deranged religious group or something? I admit I was slightly creeped out, but more fascinated. I clicked the “Purchase” hyperlink, out of mere curiosity once again.

Turns out each pill costs some absurd amount of Russian currency, which I found was equal to about 130 US dollars per pill. Ridiculous! Not that I would buy them even if I could. I immediately left the site.

At this point I’m guessing it’s probably a lousy foreign credit card scam, or some weird cult initiative. Either way it made my day more interesting than it normally would’ve been.


October 22nd, 2014

I posted a thread on Nocturnal Underground about the mystery user who sent me the strange PM. I found myself wanting to know more about this whole Necrosleep.net thing, so as a part of my investigation I sought to find out who the user was. Here’s a transcript of the forum thread:

Reedman07: Hey guys, I hope I’m not disrupting the order of things by posting this in the Trolling and Harassment section, I didn’t know where else to put it. I figured this incident of mine might qualify as a spam case if other people are getting the same advertisement message I am. Basically the other day I got a PM from a user I’ve never seen before called Revelation666, and the message was an advertisement for some supplement. Has anyone seen this user on the forums before? I sure haven’t. If you have any information that’d be great.

Cosmic_Trashbin: I don’t recognize the username, he must be fairly new or just inactive. What were the exact contents of the message? We could probably get an admin to ban him for advertising.

Reedman07: Here’s a screencap of the message. [Message.jpg]

Cosmic_Trashbin: Strange. Did you actually go to the website? I hope not, it’s probably infested with viruses. Lol

B3457w4rf4r3: Just tried going there, it’s just a black screen. The invite code didn’t work either, it just gave me a popup box that said invalid IP.

Reedman07: Of course I went there. I couldn’t resist.

Thuglyfe4lyfe: Doesn’t work for me either. Invalid IP.

Cosmic_Trashbin: If it only works for Reedman07 maybe it’s bound to his IP somehow. Can you get some screenshots of the site? You’ve sparked my interest.

Reedman07: Here you are. The page was initially in Russian so I had my browser translate it. [Main.jpg] [Purchase.jpg] [Secret.jpg] [Credit.jpg]

B3457w4rf4r3: Looks shady as hell.

Cosmic_Trashbin: Wow. Don’t even mess with it, you’re asking for trouble just by clicking the link. You’re probably being keylogged as we speak.

B3457w4rf4r3: Not to mention the product they’re selling is probably laced with cyanide.

Cosmic_Trashbin: If he’s stupid enough to buy it, well, the gene pool is better off without him anyways.

B3457w4rf4r3: Never trust a Russian.

Thuglyfe4lyfe: I’m Russian and I find that offensive.

B3457w4rf4r3: You just said you were Asian last week, make up your mind.

Reedman07: I leave this thread for 5 minutes and chaos ensues. Everybody calm the [expletive] down. Of course I’m not going to mess with it, these supposed miracle pills are $130 each anyways. Who do you think I am, Johnny Cash?

Thuglyfe4lyfe: Just because his name was Johnny Cash doesn’t mean he was rich or had lots of cash or whatever.

B3457w4rf4r3: Of course he was rich you dumb[expletive], he’s Johnny [expletive] Cash.

Cosmic_Trashbin: Who’s bright idea was it to equip this forum with a profanity filter anyways? It’s [expletive] stupid.

Reedman07: Before this thread deteriorates any further, let me just say I’ve put tape over my webcam just in case something slipped past my antivirus, but it’s probably just a credit card scam or something. I’ll do some research on it tomorrow, the sun’s been up for three hours and I’m running low on energy drinks.

Cosmic_Trashbin: I’ll contact one of the admins about this. Spam isn’t tolerated here. I ought to see if they’re willing to uninstall the profanity filter plugin as well.

I got a message later on from HGWishingWells (one of the admins) saying that the user Revelation666 doesn’t exist in the database, and that the only way I could’ve received the message is if the mail client was bypassed somehow. In other words, somebody hacked the system just to send me a spam message. What the hell.


October 23rd, 2014

I finally got around to Googling Necrosleep. The results were mostly irrelevant YouTube channels and defunct ‘90s screamo bands from the looks of it, but I noticed among the garbage results a link to a post on FastMD.com. The preview said “Does anyone know if this Necrosleep stuff actually works?” So I clicked on it, only to be directed to a page stating “The post you’re looking for has been deleted and no longer exists.” I should have known. Nothing can ever be easy and predictable.

I returned to the results, and had to scan over several pages of them before finally running into an old gaming forum thread where the website Necrosleep.net was mentioned. This time the post hadn’t been deleted. In the middle of a conversation about maximizing crop production in some medieval strategy game, one of the users claimed to have taken Necrosleep in order to tend to his virtual farm 24 hours a day.

Needless to say, the other forum patrons were highly skeptical. The guy posted a link to Necrosleep.net in an attempt to back up his claim, ultimately failing to convince them because—you guessed it—the site was bound to his IP address. He also had the same invitation code as me (DCLXVI) leading me to believe it’s just a formality intended to make you feel special. But that doesn’t explain why and how my IP—and apparently someone else's—got singled out.

The bragger then claimed that there was irrefutable proof of his ceaseless wakefulness in his in-game score. In relation to the length of time his account has existed, his score was excessively high. So high, in fact, that it would be impossible for him to attain so high a score in so short a time frame, unless he was playing the game for at least 21 hours a day, which leaves practically no time for sleeping.

Despite all that, they attributed his accomplishment to an automatic bot program that operated the game for him during the night. Since cheating in this way is against the game rules, his account was promptly banned, according to the moderator at the end of the thread. Sure enough, in little red letters below his forum avatar were the words “Banned for bot abuse, 8/12/2006.”

I couldn’t find any more relevant results for Necrosleep or Necrosleep.net other than what I’ve just told you about. Looks like these online dope dealers are pretty stealth. I’m just dying to know what their real motives might be, 'cause I could think of a million better ways to steal someone’s credit card number or peddle quack remedies. It could be a prank, but evidently this has been going on since 2006 at least. Perhaps some jokes just never die.


October 25th, 2014

I got another PM from Revelation666. Am I the only one who gets creeped out by that name? Knowing what I know now, it makes me uneasy to think about the great lengths this user went to contact me specifically. For some reason, they stealthily bypassed the system just to send me these messages and make me this “offer.” Here is the message I just received:

To: Reedman07

From: Revelation666

Subject: Necrosleep.net/backdoor

Congratulations Reedman07. You’ve been selected to receive a free 30 day trial of Necrosleep. Claim your exclusive reward at Necrosleep.net/backdoor

Find out what you’ve been missing your entire life, risk free.


Once again my curiosity got the best of me. Bracing myself for whatever scam was coming my way, I clicked the link. I was taken to a page asking for my address, nothing more. I thought about it carefully, knowing full well that these people likely have malicious intentions. But if I entered my post office box, what’s the worst that could happen? Worst case scenario they send me some junk mail or some faulty pills. The point is that I’ll finally know what they want from me.

I entered the address.


October 28th, 2014

I decided to go back to the thread I posted on Nocturnal Underground and let people know what’s up. Sure enough, their reactions were amusing:

Reedman07: Well guys, it happened again. Look at the attachment. [Message2.jpg]

Cosmic_Trashbin: Don’t tell me you clicked on this one too.

Reedman07: I did. Then it asked me for my address. But don’t worry I only entered my PO box.

Cosmic_Trashbin: Are you out of your [expletive] mind?!

Reedman07: I take it you couldn’t persuade the admins to disable the profanity filter.

Cosmic_Trashbin: No [expletive] Sherlock. Apparently they get a huge kick out of watching us quarrel over it.

Reedman07: I wouldn’t be surprised if HGWishingWells sent me these weird messages just to stir up some controversy around here.

HGWishingWells: Neither would I… ;)

Cosmic_Trashbin: The mystery has been solved. Everybody go home.

HGWishingWells: In all seriousness I had nothing to do with this. I swear on my great grandmother’s life!

Reedman07: Swearing on the life of a dead person isn’t exactly the most convincing way to plead.

Cosmic_Trashbin: I think the joke’s gone far enough. HG, did you do it or not?

HGWishingWells: I really didn’t do it. The admins and I were genuinely perplexed when we saw where the message came from. Or should I say, where the message DIDN’T come from. It was certainly not from any registered user on the inside.

B3457w4rf4r3: If they actually send you the pills are you going to take them? You couldn’t pay me a million bucks to try that [expletive].

Cosmic_Trashbin: I can personally guarantee you that stuff is too good to be true. Nothing can make you stay awake forever.

HGWishingWells: I agree with Cosmic. Don’t take this any further.

Reedman07: Even if they do send me the pills and it’s not just junk mail, I’m not going to take it unless I find some more information on it. Do you really think I’m that stupid? Chill out guys. I probably won’t update this thread anymore, so follow my blog if you want to know what’s up with me. The link’s on my profile.

Well, we pretty much ruled out the possibility that it’s a prank by the admins. I don’t think HGWishingWells would carry on a prank this long, nor would he lie so blatantly. And even if one of the other admins were to prank me, I can’t imagine they would do it with some Russian supplement pitch. It’s just all too strange.


October 30th, 2014

Last night, I had a buddy of mine deliver the mail to my doorstep in exchange for some coding work on his Flash site. I’ll do just about anything to avoid leaving the building. But that’s not the point; the point is that I received an envelope with no return address. Yet I immediately knew who it was from.

The envelope was old. Very old, like it’s been sitting in a dusty attic for decades. I opened the stained envelope only to find a smaller manila envelope inside, also rather old-looking. Inscribed on the small envelope was the word “Necrosleep” and a word of advice on storing the packet in a cool, dark place for maximum potency. The words appeared to have been stamped onto the envelope rather than printed.

I opened the small envelope, and sure enough, there were 30 black pills inside, more crude than what you might get from your local pharmacy. Now before you all start freaking out, I’m NOT going to take these. At least not until I can dig up some more reliable information on it.

Now I know that these Russian dope dealers weren’t just trying to send me junk mail. The question is, why would they send me the pills if they don’t actually work? Surely they must want my money, which they wouldn’t get after a failed 30 day trial. What if they’re trying to kill me? I never did have a good feeling about any of this. But the curiosity is killing me.


October 31st, 2014

It just occurred to me that I completely overlooked something. I never researched Dr. Hail A. Stan, the guy who apparently had something to do with Necrosleep. So I did a quick Google search and found—much to my surprise—that he had is own article on Wikipedia.

The article states that Dr. Stan was a Ukrainian scientist and physician who claimed to have been directly involved in the experiments portrayed in a 1940 motion picture which documents Soviet research into the resuscitation of clinically dead organisms. Here’s an excerpt from the article:

Experiments in the Revival of Organisms10:00
Experiments in the Revival of Organisms
The motion picture “Experiments in the Revival of Organisms” depicts various disturbing medical experiments conducted on canines, one of which involves keeping a dog’s decapitated head alive with a primitive autojector machine that supplied it with oxygenated blood.

The operations in the film were credited to Dr. Sergei Brukhonenko. However, Dr. Hail A. Stan incessantly claimed to be the one who really conducted the experiments and invented the autojector, and that they only credited Brukhonenko because Stan was sentenced to life in prison for illegally conducting gruesome experiments on humans. He believed that because he had consent from his test subjects (albeit through bribery) he had not committed an immoral crime.

The Lenin Prize was awarded to Brukhonenko for the autojector, while Stan remained in permanent imprisonment. It wasn’t until they discovered the lost footage of his morbid human experiments that they had him executed by lethal injection. His last words, spoken in an unidentified language, died with him.

Dr. Hail A. Stan was rumored to have pioneered a variety of cures for major conditions such as narcolepsy and epilepsy, although the results were not published in a scientific manner, and therefore the majority of his alleged accomplishments were unverifiable, and seemingly occult in nature. The number of people he apparently cured of various incurable afflictions between 1930 and 1940 was in the thousands. Attempts to replicate his documented remedies ultimately failed, leading most to believe he was practicing pseudoscience.

It is believed by some that Dr. Hail A. Stan has a following to this day, and that his miracle cures are still being practiced and peddled from Russia and Ukraine. Some claim to have received mysterious emails and offers pertaining to Dr. Hail A. Stan’s work; all investigations revealed no evidence to support these claims.

I’ll admit, some of this stuff unnerves me. Morbid human experiments aren’t exactly pleasant things to think about. But it seems to me this guy was just doing what was necessary to advance his research. Maybe he really was on to something? Maybe his cures couldn’t be replicated because they were so advanced? I don’t really know. All I know is that I received one of these mysterious offers that supposedly don’t exist beyond hearsay.

Maybe there’s something to this. Maybe I really was selected to receive a gift too great for the masses. Maybe they were dead serious when they said this would change my life.


November 1st, 2014

I’m holding the pill in my hand, ready to take it at a moment’s notice. I’ve been thinking hard about this. I know it’s not the safest thing to do, but I’m a risk-taker. If this turns out badly I don’t have much to live for anyways. Life is nothing without danger, and I want to know the motives of these people more than anything. I need to know what they want from me. I need to know what I’m missing.

There’s only one way to find out.


November 3rd, 2014

I can’t believe it. It’s actually working. I haven’t slept in 3 days and I don’t even feel remotely tired. Holy hell! I’ve never felt so focused and stimulated in my life. I don’t know what’s in this stuff but it WORKS. I don’t know how long it’s going to work exactly, so I’m not getting my hopes up. But the claim is that I’ll never need to sleep again. Ever.

So far, so good.


November 4th, 2014

Still works like a charm after 4 days. But lately the light has been really bothering me, so I duct taped a piece of cardboard over the window. I never liked that window anyways. At night I get this feeling that I’m being watched from outside, and it’s been making me anxious more than usual. It’s easy to think you’re seeing something uncanny out the window, until you realize it’s just your own reflection distorted by the cheap glass pane. Anyways, that issue has been resolved.

I also found something interesting when I was taking my nightly pill. Until recently, I failed to notice a symbol stamped on the inside of the small manila envelope. Yes, the inside. I know I’ve seen the symbol before, but I can’t remember where exactly. It’s a downward-pointing pentagram with what I think is a goat’s head inscribed within it. Maybe they just re-used an old envelope and turned it inside out or something.


November 5th, 2014

Thanks to one of my followers for pointing out something I didn’t realize; the emblem inside the envelope was actually Satanic symbol… Yeah, needless to say I’m definitely not taking this crap anymore. This sort of thing really creeps me out. I’m done. I wish I would have read that message before I took it tonight, I’ll just quit tomorrow. I mean, it hasn’t harmed me thus far, and I feel great, so maybe I’m just being paranoid. It’s just a symbol, probably a printing mistake or something. But screw that. I’m not messing around with demonic affairs. No way in Hell.


November 6th, 2014

Over the past week I’ve been taking one of these pills at exactly 10:00 PM each night. I planned on stopping the pills tonight, but around 10:30 I started getting this horrible headache, and it got progressively worse. I was thinking maybe it was just me adjusting to suddenly going off Necrosleep, so I waited another hour, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I took another pill.

I know I could quit if I wanted to, but I’m starting to think there’s no reason to. I mean, I don’t have to sleep anymore, I’ve been feeling energized, I should just man up and stop being irrational.


November 9th, 2014

I’ve been making a killing with all this free time and newfound focus. I made five grand in a single day of trading virtual property; that’s not including my online poker proceeds over the last week which are through the goddamn roof. Suddenly I have this intuitive grasp of numbers that I never had before. I’ve been living my life in a daze until now… they were right. This really is changing my life.


November 11th, 2014

Here’s a rather peculiar story for you guys. I was sitting on the couch, minding my own business, when I noticed a couple of gleaming eyes staring at me from the dark corner. I thought nothing of it, knowing it must’ve been Twig skulking about. Cats have reflective eyes, who else would it be? I looked away, and at that very same moment, I felt it. Twig’s wrinkly little self curling up next to me.

I looked back toward the corner, those beady eyes still fixed upon me with Twig clearly at my side. I blinked, and the eyes were gone. Man, my brain’s really trying to screw with me. It had to have been mental. Yet I remember it with such lucidity. Come to think of it, I should’ve known it wasn’t Twig from the start. Cat’s eyes don’t glow red.

Anyways, let’s hope it was just a freak brain malfunction. After all, what else could it possibly be?


November 12th, 2014

I’m going to run out of food eventually. Obviously I COULD go to the store and restock myself, but… the thought scares me. The thought of leaving the safety of my apartment—the thought of social interaction—I now dread it more than I ever have. I never have preferred going out to staying in, but I’ve never dreaded it this much. I wasn’t always so terribly afraid.

None of my instant messenger friends have been online lately, and they stopped upvoting my blog posts. Who’s going to get my groceries? What if I have to go out there? I shouldn’t be panicking like this, honestly. I’m being stupid. Stop panicking you idiot. Stop panicking you idiot. Stop panicking you idiot.


November 13th, 2014

My friend Jake came online. It was a temporary relief that lasted about as long as it took him to say “I’m not dropping off the food until you agree to get out of the house.” That was his offer, entailing that I leave the house and go clubbing with the guys in exchange for help. I declined out of pure fear.

He was worried for my health, apparently. I can’t blame him for thinking I’m becoming a feral hermit doomed to die alone in his pathetic slum, but he just doesn’t understand. Nobody understands me. At least I’m pretty sure I got enough food to last till Thanksgiving, if I stretch it.


November 15th, 2014

I need to tell you all about another strange experience I had yesterday. I’ve been leaving my TV on lately so the silence doesn’t irritate me. That children’s show Bucko’s Garden was on, you know, the show we all watched as kids until we were mature enough to realize how mindless and nonsensical it was. Yeah, that show. It was playing in the background on my boxy old TV in the corner. Eventually it distracted me and I found myself zoning out into it for lack of better things to do.

It must’ve been a Thanksgiving episode, considering Bucko (a guy dressed like a deer with a human face) was in the kitchen preparing sweet potatoes and cranberries. This is about as intelligible as the show gets. Things got a bit weird when he decided to let the anthropomorphic cranberries go into his garden at the last minute, as if they were captive insects. The sweet potatoes weren’t so lucky.

Bucko sent his bird friends to retrieve a pumpkin pie from the pie tree, and his squirrel friends to collect gravy from the gravy cow, who coincidentally regurgitates mashed potatoes to boot. I told you this show was weird, but that’s not even the start.

I didn’t realize something was off until Bucko pulled out a knife—a full fledged razor-sharp knife that you wouldn’t expect to see in such a benign show. With the other hand he opened the oven, and pulled it out. Not a ham, not a turkey.

A roasted human fetus.

Mother of God.

I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing. How on Earth could this be allowed on television? Were my eyes deceiving me? I don’t know, but I turned it off as soon as he started cutting into it. The gore was too much, even for me.

I’m still having a hard time believing what my own eyes clearly saw. I couldn’t have been dreaming, I haven’t had so much as a nap in 15 days. I just… I don’t even know. Maybe something’s wrong with me. I’ve been forgetting my PC login password, even after I changed it to something else and wrote it down I forgot where I wrote it down where I wrote it forgot it down. I can’t even think properly right now.


November 18th, 2014

I’m not going lie. I’m scared out of my mind right now.

I walked into the bathroom, planning to take my first shower in weeks. I never imagined I’d open the door and see anything more than my own reflection in the mirror.

Instead, I saw it. Standing behind me. Staring. Completely motionless. I froze and panicked more than I ever have in my entire life I swear. You don’t know true fear. You don’t even have a clue. I can still see it, engraved in my mind. The face. It was… demonic.

It was gone as soon as it came.

I’d say I was just imagining things, but it felt all too real. I’m not going into that bathroom ever again. I’ll just go in the kitchen sink or something. I can’t handle this. I wonder if these pills are screwing with my head. I need to stop. I need to stop now. I don’t even feel safe in my own apartment anymore. I feel like the shadows are watching me.


November 20th, 2014

I tried to stop the pills again, but I had a change of heart at the last minute. Something told me not to, like a voice in my head. I just feel like it would be wrong and somehow my life would fall apart if I stopped. I don’t think this is normal, the way I’m living, but I can’t imagine it any other way. I can’t imagine stepping out into the light, or even the moonlight for that matter.

All of my instant messenger contacts have been offline since Jake talked to me last, and I don’t know if my food will last another week. Twig’s getting pretty skinny since I’ve been eating her cat food to stretch my supplies a bit, but she’ll be okay as long as someone comes online by Thanksgiving. Speaking of which, nobody invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner, not even my family. But that’s okay, I hate my parents anyways. Screw them.


November 22nd, 2014

I’ve been hearing more voices inside my head. Horrible voices. It’s really scaring me and I don’t know what to do. Is it some sort of side effect or something? I can’t hear myself think sometimes, like I’m losing control over my own thoughts. And these thoughts I have are so dark… it’s not like me to think that way. I would never hurt anyone, I’m not like that.

I tried going to Necrosleep.net again just to see if there’s something I missed about side effects, and it said the domain is no longer in use. The site was shut down.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m terrified of myself.


November 24th, 2014

Knock knock. I yelled through the drafty door, asking who it was. It was my “friends” Jake and Douglas. Apparently they wanted to help me after seeing my blog posts of distress. But sure enough, it was only under the condition that I open the door and come out. Very suspicious.

How do I really know I can trust them? I know I’ve trusted them for years, but what if they were just earning my trust so they could pull something more sinister later on? What if they give me drugged food? What if they stab me when I open the door? It just occurred to me that I have no real proof that I can trust them; I can’t even trust myself anymore. I don’t even know who I am. Maybe my whole life I’ve been a sadistic freak and didn’t even know it. Maybe my true self is just now coming out. Maybe everyone is evil.


November 25th, 2014

The voices won’t stop. I used to think they were malevolent, but now I’m not so sure. Sometimes it feels like they’re trying to liberate me. They want me to listen to them desperately. They show me things, horrible things, and yet these things don’t seem horrible to me anymore. I’m numb. I don’t feel anything.

But I know there’s one thing I can do to make me feel again. Part of me says it’s terribly wrong. But the voices tell me otherwise.

The voices are my friends now.

The demons are my friends.


November 26th, 2014

Twig is in heaven now. I had to do it. I had to know what it tasted like. It was satisfying, but I need more. I thought I’d never leave this room again, but I don’t have a choice anymore. I need more of it. The face is getting angry. The voices are getting angry. My head hurts so bad. I need more. It hurts so much. I need more. They’re hurting me. I need to feed them more. They need more. I need more. I have to make it stop. I need more I NEED MORE.




Police Report Pt. 1 – Thanksgiving – 11/27/2014

Victim: Paul Murdock

Aggressor: Reed Murdock

Police arrived on the scene after a frantic 911 call from Margaret Murdock (confirmed to be the aggressor’s mother). The victim, Paul Murdock (the aggressor’s father) was found in the process of being mauled and cannibalized by the aggressor, Reed Murdock, whose face and mouth was covered in blood and brain matter.

Reed was shot dead after refusing to stop eating his own father, whose skull was torn open entirely. Drug use is suspected to be involved.


Police Report Pt. 2 – 11/29/2014

Reed Murdock’s residence was inspected thoroughly by investigators. A hairless, headless, and disemboweled cat carcass was found on the kitchen counter. The cat’s blood and bodily fluids were spilled throughout the house, while the head was found crushed, brain completely removed and nowhere to be found.

The apartment was clearly inhabited by an utterly insane individual, given the foul and uncleanly nature of the place. An old TV rested in the corner, turned on, displaying only static and white noise. It had no antenna.

A suspicious packet of unidentified pills was recovered. The resident’s computer and other personal effects were confiscated and await further analysis.


Autopsy Report – 12/4/2014

Subject: Reed Murdock

The contents of Reed Murdock’s digestive tract was a disturbing mixture of human tissue, mostly brain matter and cerebrospinal fluid. Examination of his own brain, however, was even more disturbing and perplexing.

His brain was clearly and visibly deteriorating; the brain tissue was black and red rather than the usual pinkish gray, and riddled with holes throughout. Closer examination revealed thousands small black parasites to be consuming the brain. This was undoubtedly the cause of the man’s insidious psychosis.

Testing on the parasites was inconclusive, as they didn’t match any known species. Further testing is required.

The unknown pills recovered from Murdock’s apartment have been tested and confirmed to contain a vile plethora of uncommon substances, including obscure, highly addictive euphoric drugs, human hormones, and parasitic eggs, presumably meant to remain dormant in a cool place until introduced into the body, allowing them to hatch and eventually invade the brain. It is unclear how he acquired the pills and where they came from, although whoever concocted them surely had malicious intent.


Police Report Pt. 3 – 12/6/2014

Two friends of Reed Murdock—Jake Fairfax and Douglas Lopez—were questioned at the police station. Immediately they referred to his online blog, where he allegedly recorded his path to eventual insanity. It was found that the blog mysteriously disappeared off the face of the internet for reasons unknown.

They were aware of the unknown pills Reed was taking, claiming they originated from the website Necrosleep.net.

Investigators later confirmed the website does not exist.

Sebastian Stan - Reunion - Part 3

Finally! Part three of my Sebastian Stan series Reunion is here! You can find the first two parts on my Reunion Master List. Enjoy!

It’s time for something you’ve always dreaded, your high school reunion. You were always the “nerdy girl” and the “weird one” and you never had many friends. You don’t want to go, but you feel like you have to, but you don’t want to go alone, but who do you ask? Well, luckily for you, Sebastian Stan, yes, the Sebastian Stan, just so happens to be your best friend. You ask him to be your fake date so you can rub it in the faces of the people who hated you, much to your relief he agrees. Let’s just hope everything goes to plan.

Sebastian x Fem!Reader

A/N: Kind of a slow part, but there will be more happening in the next part. This was really quickly edited before I had to go to work, so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes. The majority of Romanian and Russian is roughly translated from google translate so it might not be accurate.

Keep reading

Creepypasta #579: I Used To Be A Himalayan Tour Guide

Story length: Long

So as the title states, I used to be a tour guide for tourists and adventurers and globetrotters who are willing to trek the hills of the Himalayas. As someone who is of Asian descent, studied in England, and returned to Nepal, I have come into contact with a variety of languages which makes my job easier as a tour guide. The job is fairly simple, trek the nearby lowlands for the tourists, and guide the experienced ones a bit further. And for those who want to go deep into the mountains? We give some advice, a prayer, and watch the brave go on their merry way.

But this was not the case last November. By the end of October, fewer and fewer tourists and hikers came to our camp. Once November had started, none came at all. This wasn’t particularly weird, many climbers often come heavily during Spring or Early Summer, but the odd part was we hadn’t received any information at all. No emails, no contacts from the average person wanting to know about the mountains, nothing at all, as if our little camp had been shut off from the rest of the world technologically. 

We weren’t concerned until even the locals refused to go anywhere near the camp. As the days passed, there was an odd …. feeling about the mountains. I have trekked across the Himalayas several times and honestly consider myself to be a bit of an adrenaline junkie and fairly fearless person, but not this time… I began to experience a feeling of dread from the mountains. At night, my fellow guides and I could hear a low, barely audible vibrating noise echoing from the hills. Several people quit work due to constant headaches at night.

Then, the military came. Not the Nepalese military. Not the Indian or the Chinese. But all of them. They arrived quickly in the night and filled up the nearly empty camp. Americans, British, Nepalese, Chinese, Russian, French, Germans, and a fuck ton of other small platoons from different nations. Many I recognized by language, some I did not. At the end there were about 350 or so of some of the toughest veteran looking motherfuckers I have ever seen, setting up a base near the smallest foothills. They wouldn’t even acknowledge us and some even threatened my coworkers not to come near. 

And on November 12th, they set off. Packed up all their stuff and started trekking into the mountains. It was as if it was all a dream that they had been there at all. There was the usual gossip and theories among us. Perhaps they struck oil or found some nuclear power source or maybe there’s some international battle royale in the middle of the Himalayas where the nations sent their toughest to duke it out( this was my guess.) Oh how I wish this was the truth. 

The vibrating noise disappeared for a while but came back after Thanksgiving with a force so strong that it broke our windows and shut down all of our equipment, it then went back to a dull hum. After a couple days in the dark and no connection, they arrived.

They came back on December 2nd. Or what was left of them that is. 350-400 men went into those mountains. Four made it back. Two Germans, an American, and a Chinese soldier. I woke up from screaming by my co-worker who spotted them descending from the hills. The American and the Chinese soldier was carrying one of the Germans down, while the other followed closely behind. 

When they got back to our camp for help, Jesus Christ. The dying German wasn’t just wounded. He was fucking mutilated. He was missing practically the entire left side of his body and the only reason he wasn’t bleeding everywhere was because of all his organ had frozen together. We couldn’t save him, there was no way to call for medical help given the state of the phones and computers from the huge shock near Thanksgiving. We buried the dead German, and attempted to comfort and ask the soldiers what had happened. None of them said a word or moved, but just sat there with a blank expression.

By the time we checked up on them the next day, all three was gone. I can only assume they went down to the village in attempt to head home. As I went to clean up their sleeping areas, I discovered the American’s journal. Here’s what I managed to copy down.

November 13

I don’t get paid enough for this shit. We’re freezing our asses off. We barely understand the mission and we can’t even comprehend each other because there’s only two fucking translators. There is NOTHING out here but snow and rocks.

November 15

Everyone’s fucking exhausted. The vibrating is giving everyone headaches. If I make it back to Jess and my kids, I quit. I didn’t spend my time in shithole Afghanistan to babysit an imaginary hole that nobody can fucking find.

November 18

We found it. Jesus H. Christ, we found it. It’s like a fucking void. After passing that last mountain, it’s like a huge dip into a valley. There’s just this massive hole in the center. I can’t even see the other side or the bottom. Damn thing must be at least 15 miles in diameter. My god…it’s so surreal. I guess Spear wasn’t a total failure after all.

November 19

Shit a couple Frenchies fucked around and fell in.

November 20

We couldn’t hear their screams anymore. Everyone’s getting sick. Real sick. People are vomiting blood and I swear I can hear something rumbling from the void.

November 24

Headache ears hurt. Not much to report.

November 26

The other countries decided we have to descend into the hole. Some suicide rescue mission and also find It. Bunch of idiots are gonna kill themselves.

November 28

We shouldn’t have searched for it. He was guarding it. Bullets won’t work. Knives won’t work. Missiles won’t work. I’m so sorry Jess.

November 28

I made it out. Barely anyone did. It does not matter anymore. The horse has woken. Best case scenario, everyone is slaughtered by January.

The journal ended there. A few days after this, the technology worked again. I quit the guide job and booked the first plane out and decided to return to London. I don’t know what to make of this.

Credits to: ahimalayanguide

baneseelie  asked:

So when's the 100k Erichnya 'verse fic coming out??? Also if you're up to writing more hc's, what are some of the weird things the smh guys hear about Bitty's friend Alyosha before they know who he is?

Haha, I’ve no idea, but probably once I’m done with exams? I’ll break it down into chapters and see how it goes. And I’m always up for writing more about Alexei Mashkov, so without further ado - 

Things the SMH team learn about Bitty’s friend Alyosha:

  • His parents wanted him to be an accountant or a professional chess player, but he ran away to play hockey instead.
  • He met Bitty through Bitty’s figure skating coach, Katya, when he came over to train in the States. The entire premise of their meeting sounds like an episode of Battle of the Blades.
  • He has some truly bizarre stories about hockey training back in Russia, like the one that involved his entire team being chased by a bear.
  • (To be fair, the bear wasn’t actually part of the training process, but its appearance at a practice game really helped with their speed work.)
  • He tried skating with a pair of figure skates rather than his hockey blades once, and when he fell he somehow managed to recover himself by going into a handstand on the ice.
  • Before he had to leave for the airport, Alyosha made Bitty sit down with him and they had a moment of silence in Katya’s hallway. It was a Russian tradition or something. They exchanged Skype addresses afterwards.
  • He and Bitty have a longstanding argument about the superiority of sweet tea vs black tea.
  • He is obsessed with this Russian TV show called Molodezhka, which is about the trials and tribulations of a junior hockey club. He got Bitty into it (and if it weren’t for a complete lack of English subtitles the rest of the team would probably follow suit. Holster sometimes ad-libs translations.)
  • He puts aside money to cover Bitty’s baking costs. Like, the team’s pretty sure Bitty’s friend is giving him some kind of stipend, given Bitty’s need for a constant supply of butter to make pies on a regular basis. Alyosha’s an enabler.
  • Upon further questioning, Bitty shrugs and says that Alyosha considers it a sound financial investment because he gets pies out of the deal. This does make sense - Shitty takes it to mean that Alyosha is “always a slut for Bitty’s potato pies”.
  • Easter is one of Alyosha’s favourite holidays - he sends Bitty hand-dyed Easter eggs, and it’s almost a shame to eat them because they’re so pretty! Jack actually approves of this tradition, because it’s better than receiving chocolate, and Bitty needs the protein.
  • The guy once spent an entire afternoon extolling the virtues of a ‘traditional Russian bathhouse experience’ to Bitty - an experience which includes vodka and being beaten with birch leaves and branches.
  • He’s been blacklisted from a German pub chain after one of his workmates got into an argument with the owner. The altercation got out of hand, probably because at that point more than 30 Jägerbombs had been consumed, and the entire party was forced to vacate the premises and never darken the chain’s doorstep ever again.
  • He has a mild rivalry (?) with someone called Volodya, and when the latter managed to get his hands on Bitty’s phone number the entire Haus is made aware of it because of the loud three-way conversation that they can hear from Bitty’s room.
  • “You play hockey like my sister!”
    “Ha! Volodya, I play hockey with your sister, that is compliment, she is better than you!”
    “You’re both older than I am, with actual careers! Lord, but y'all are children.”
  • He is scarily aware of when people are trying to shoe check him, and is quick to dump the nearest pitcher of water on the offending person in retaliation.
  • A few people thought it would be a good idea to try to mug Alyosha and Bitty after they went shopping for a new set of knives and a skillet for Bitty. Alyosha and Bitty won that fight.
  • “…And that’s how we became blood brothers.”
    “Gosh, Bits, are you sure Alyosha hasn’t got connections to, like, the Russian underworld?
    “I’m sure. Now, Katya, on the other hand…”

Things the SMH team have yet to learn:

  • Alyosha is Alexei ‘Tater’ Mashkov of the Providence Falconers, who can afford to finance Bitty’s baking habit and has indeed known Bitty for years.
  • Volodya is Vladimir ‘Uchi’ Uchitel of the Las Vegas Aces, who is a part of the Russian hockey network with Alyosha and has been trying to get his hands on one of Bitty’s pies for what feels like years. (But more on him later.)
The Eight Languages

~I don’t know who said we needed a fic about Beca discovering the languages that Kommissar can speak but… I can confirm. We need it and we now have it.

So Beca may or may not find other languages extremely attractive, alluring, and downright sexual.

Hearing that Kommissar spoke eight different languages almost made Beca ask on the spot. However it would not be good if the leader of the team passed out backstage before preforming. She would surely just swoon if she heard Kommissar speak another language. Bow down and just sell her soul. But then again that was what she had done from the start right? Honestly Beca was fairly certain the blonde knew exactly what she did to Beca. And she abused this greatly.

Everyone was invited to stay for two weeks after the Worlds in Copenhagen. Ironic enough, DSM and the Bellas were staying at the same hotel. The Bellas found this out in the most unfortunate of ways. Well, unfortunate for her teammates, for Beca it was the best thing that had ever happened in her entire life.

The weirdest thing was seeing DSM, the perfect, well oiled machine, running through the halls at night in their pajamas or less with nerf guns. Beca couldn’t decide at first if she was dreaming, hallucinating, or drunk. Or maybe DSM was drunk. However she was quickly proven that they were sober when Kommissar came out, guns a blazing, looking sexy as hell.

Her hair was loose and brushed her shoulders. Kommissar’s eyes were alive in happiness. She wore no makeup and had on only a black, rather large, sweater and socks. The leader was silent but lethal, her aim perfect as Beca expected. Unfortunately the Bellas got caught in the crossfire, having exiting the elevator to be greeted by bullets. Kommissar was standing in the middle of the hallway, Pieter by her side.

“Vhere are they?” Kommissar asks, her German accent becoming more pronounced as she struggled to go back to the language she was raised with.

Beca couldn’t understand battle cry but this was certainly it. Bullets rained down and Kommissar swore in German. She gracefully rolled, Pieter going opposite her, before popping up behind a plant and hitting two attackers. Yelling something so fast that all Beca could catch and roughly translate was “You need to work on your aim.”

Kommissar was laughing, her grin lighting up the hallway. Beca and the Bellas were tol weirded out by this sudden, new side of DSM to really move. Their room was, after all, down the hall where they would most likely get shot.

Beca heard the elevator a second too late to stop the business man walk out to get shot in the face with five bullets. There were childish snickers as Kommissar moved, taking charge like always, toward the man. She was muttering an apology when he titled his head and said something in Swedish.

Kommissar didn’t bat an eye, smoothly transitioning to rapid fire Swedish as she, Beca assumed, apologized for her groups decision to have a nerf war in the middle of the hallway. Beca didn’t even bother trying to catch the foreign words, too busy enthralled by the way Kommissar’s full lips formed the words effortlessly and how her German accent sounded with a different language and Beca felt her knees go weak.

In a matter of minutes Kommissar had him walking down the hallway on his merry way. She pointed toward the left hallway, shouting something that Beca easily translated into “Move.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Swedish.” Beca blurted as Kommissar took another sweep of the old battlefield.

“I did tell you that she spoke eight languages.” Pieter reminded her.

Kommissar grinned. “Ja, I am fluent in all of them, except my American could use some improvement. You people have a weird system.” She rolls her eyes, picking up a few spare darts.

“What are they?” Beca asks, curiosity getting the better of her. But of corse Kommissar can’t just come out and tell her, she has to have her fun.

“Thats for me to know and you to learn.”

Beca finds most of the other languages pretty easily. DSM has decided to join the Bellas for the day and Beca makes sure to go to the weirdest places, all of which she has no idea what they say or sell. She follows Kommissar like a puppy, making sure to bug the blonde about it every chance she got.

“You should just tell me.” Beca insists for the fourth time.

“So eager.” Kommissar shakes her head disapprovingly. “Patience.”

“Will you tell me sometime today?”


“Am I on my own for finding out?”


Beca tries to keep her distracted with small talk but Kommissar seems busy navigating the map. There are many places to see and Beca knows that at least three of these are not English. Her first attempt at making Kommissar speak was “accidentally” running into her which caused her to spill a man’s coffee on himself. Beca decided her looked foreign. She is disappointed when he speaks fluent English.

When the awkward encounter is over Kommissar smirks at Beca. “Really? This is how you plan to discover the languages I speak?”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Lets just get something to eat.” She points to a small restaurant looking building. “There.”

“A store that sells furniture?” Kommissar asks when Beca starts off in that direction. She looks back at Kommissar then looks up at the sign. She takes a moment to place the foreign language before plastering on an embarrassed face. Something she bas mastered in the blondes presence.

“Fine then we can go here.” Beca says, moving onto the patio of the odd place. This one she knows is a restaurant because of the food sign.

“Good choice!” Pieter says excitedly. “Danish is the best. What is it you Americans say… You have not lived until you have eaten Kommissar’s
Amagergryde.” He says enthusiastically.

“What is that?” Beca asks.

“Good Danish dish.” Kommissar says dismissively.

And God Beca is glad this place is Danish because Kommissar speaks the language so well and Beca is positive it should not be this easy to get turned on. But Kommissar is speaking quickly, ordering food, and she is doing that thing where her tongue pokes out to wet her lips before continuing her sentence-

“Beca you okay?” Chloe asks.

“Yeah… I just… I need a moment.”

Chloe lowers her voice. “You are looking Kommissar like she is your lunch.”

“I can’t help it that she has the voice of an angel.” Beca sighs. And Chloe giggles.

“You are so cute. How many languages have you found out about?” Chloe asks.

“English, German, Swedish, Danish, and Polish. Theres three more to go.”

Chloe laughs. “You are way too obsessed with this.”

Beca doesn’t learn the next two until several days later when Kommissar has Beca pinned against the wall and her teeth latched onto her neck. Beca groans and grinds her hips into Kommissar’s, silently begging.

Kommissar’s chuckle is raspy and sooner Beca is on her back on the bed and she is naked. Kommissar’s lips are traveling down her bare body whispering sweet, foreign words and Beca is just coherent enough to place the language as French before Kommissar’s mouth is right where she needs it.

Later on Beca finds out two things about Kommissar. The first is that she likes to swear in Russian when she is turned on, the second is that she doesn’t lose her cool even in bed. When she cums she cums silently, her mouth forming a perfect o, her back arched off the bed, and her hands tangled in Beca’s locks to keep her there. Beca laughs at the thought, why would she want to be anywhere else than between Kommissar’s legs and making her speak Russian?

The last language Beca learns when she dumps Jesse. Kommissar is being the cute like bilingual German that she shows no one and is dancing around in the street. Its night time but Beca and Jesse are finally over and Kommissar is full of energy. Beca couldn’t say no to a midnight stroll and when Kommissar leans down and places a kiss to her lips in the moonlight Beca can taste the words on her lips.

“Tonight is the night I introduce you to the language of winners.”

Beca was eager to learn. Turns out, that language is Turkish.


Cold Case File – Necrosleep.net – 4/18/2023

The following account is the only surviving evidence supporting the existence of Necrosleep.net. The blog data was downloaded by a concerned reader just before it vanished from the internet in 2014. The data was not recovered until 9 years passed. These are the final moments of Reed Murdock, written in his own words.


My Disconnected Life

Blog author: Reed Murdock

October 16th, 2014

Hey guys, so I’ve decided to start a blog about my new life. Most of you reading this are probably my friends and acquaintances, but for the rest of you I’ll expose a little bit about myself. My name’s Reed, I just moved out of my stupid parents’ basement (thank God) and now I’m pursuing my own life where no one can push me around anymore. Technically I’m the one who ditched the place, but they all but kicked me out beforehand. Nobody gives a damn about a “crackhead” like me, not even my parents. Not that I care.

Anyways, I’m doing my own thing now. I had to give up a few luxuries, my Mom’s hellacious cooking not worthy of being called a luxury. I’d much rather live off discount ramen noodles anyways. Sometimes I’ll even have corn on the side when I’m feeling extra fancy.

Speaking of fancy, I’ll admit my apartment is anything but. It’s the cheapest one I could find, in fact. I find the saying “you get what you pay for” to be especially true when I’m trying to sleep to the lulling sound of what I can only guess is some old lady getting mugged in the dark alleyway next door. My ghetto sanctuary consists of one living room, a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a closet. The walls are practically made of cardboard and the carpet is stained with God knows what, but it’s good enough for me.

Living with me is my poor excuse for a cat named Twig. She’s one of those weird hairless breeds, and in turn, a real conversation piece. I’m often asked why the cat’s turned inside out, or if she was the victim of some perverse taxidermy project gone wrong.

As shoddy as my life seems, living on the cheap has its benefits. My cost of living is next to nothing, so I can make enough money to survive by doing odd jobs on the internet without ever leaving the house. I spend half of the month writing bogus reviews for products I’ve never used and filling out surveys on political issues I know nothing about, then spend the other half surfing the web and watching pirated reruns of The X-Files. I don’t even have to pay for internet service thanks to my neighbors’ complete failure to secure their Wi-Fi hotspot. I bet their data overages are through the roof now. Oh well, not my problem.

I’ll be updating this blog every day or two if I’m up to anything interesting. Thanks for reading this boring crap, hopefully my life will get a little more exciting in the days to come.


October 18th, 2014

I’ve decided to do something unusual. It’s 3AM and I intend to stay up all night, caffeinated beverages at my side. Why am I doing this, you ask? Because I’m permanently switching to a nocturnal sleep schedule. In other words, I’ll be sleeping during the day instead of the night. I have a number of good reasons for doing this:

1. There’s less people out at night, so leaving the building won’t be such a dreaded thing.

2. Sunlight gives you cancer, right?

3. Screw social norms.

4. The internet speed seems to increase substantially after midnight.

5. It’s a free country, I don’t even need reasons.

Also, I ran into this cool forum called Nocturnal Underground. Naturally, it’s full of sun-loathing recluses and cynical misanthropes like me. How perfect. I registered straight away and found the forum-dwellers to be very welcoming. It’s not the most famous of internet destinations, more of a tight-knit hole in the wall for a very obscure subculture.

We all seem to share a general appreciation for societal disconnect, which is cool, because I really thought I was the only wackjob who can’t stand dealing with normal people. After all, it’s these normal people who are telling me I don’t have the right to smoke whatever substances I damn well please, as if it’s their business.

I’ll let you all know how this whole nocturnal thing works for me. Peace out.


Keep reading

Thoughts after the Speak Your Language Day

I wondered for a while whether this post should be written in English or in Spanish but, for reasons that will be disclosed later, I decided to switch back to English, now that the day is over.

So, I jumped into this wagon of the Speak Your Language Day after I saw the post being reblogged by Nana. I honestly didn’t know what to expect, but it sounded like a great idea at the time and I have to say the results surpassed my expectations entirely. I said, when it was still the 7th, that I was going to post my thoughts later because I felt like my dashboard was a ‘caldo antropológico’, meaning 'anthropological broth’: a lot of things were brewing and being discovered, a lot of attitudes and thoughts were being disclosed and it was fantastic to see them happen. 

First, let’s talk about my experience here on Tumblr. Yesterday, I discovered that the vast majority of the almost 900 blogs I follow and of the 2k+ followers I have are not native English speakers. I knew we were many but I didn’t know to what extent. I also discovered I have more followers that speak my language than I originally knew, which is insane but, let’s face it, most of the times we don’t even know each other’s names unless stated in an about link or sidebar, so it happens. I saw people talking in Russian, Greek, Finnish, Dutch, Portuguese, Italian, you name it. And Spanish, a lot of Spanish, and here I was, thinking I only had like 5 followers who knew my language. Anita talked to me in Russian and I answered in Spanish, and I learned that some Russian words seem super long but their translation isn’t so and now I want to know how they’re pronounced. I asked for quotes and I got them in many languages, Bulgarian and Greek were two of my personal favorites. We ended up discussing the differences between languages that weren’t our own but others studied, and I learned a lot. All in all, it was like a new world and I ended up wondering why the hell we haven’t done this before. There’s all these people with all these amazing cultures and I’m here with my mate (as in the beverage) and my pastelitos (as in these) watching the world go by in front of me. We should exchange recipes, songs, poetry, folk tales, tv shows, plays, everything. Why aren’t we doing it? I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna end up in your ask boxes very soon asking for recommendations, I’m invested in this cultural exchange now. 

On another note, let’s talk about the native English speakers I’ve seen in my dash today. I encountered two extremes: the ones feeling somewhat personally offended (?) for this and the ones who were super invested. I didn’t have an exchange with the first kind but I saw, for example, an Anon addressing this and the responses were not only amazingly interesting and led to a great debate, but were also IN DIFFERENT LANGUAGES. How fantastic is that? There were some comments regarding how English has been imposed to us not only by media and products but also because it’s a requirement for different stages of education as well as for job applications, disregards the actual need of the use of English in the work you’d be doing. I, for example, was required to have a certain level of the Cambridge ESOL Exams for college, I wouldn’t be able graduate without it. It was very interesting to see how different people take this issue and what they think about it, especially in different languages. On the other side, talking about the invested English speakers, I had an interesting day exchanging places with Emily: I normally talk to her in her native language and yesterday, she decided to talk in mine. That was even more than what I was expecting, I would have been ok with someone talking in English for me to respond in Spanish, but she went the extra mile and I thank her for it. 

Outside Tumblr, I decided to publish a fic in Spanish. I never do that, I tried it only once and never again but I thought it would be an interesting experiment (later I realized it was like closing the cycle, because Serena, who started this wild ride, writes Les Mis fics and that’s exactly what I decided to publish, but that’s another story). Anyway, you know what I’m talking about, we hardly ever write fics in our own language if we’re not English speakers and I’ve seen a post with over 30.000 notes to prove it. So, I did it, I wrote a little fic in Spanish and posted it on AO3 as the day begun. I discovered a lot of things of my own writing but, the most surprising thing was that someone left me a comment saying something along the lines of 'someone else who writes in Spanish! I wish I could write in English as well but all my fics are in Spanish’ among other things. And then I felt terrible. Because there’s people who not only can’t read in English but also can’t write in it and maybe have fantastic fanfiction that people wouldn’t read even if they could because we got used to not reading fanfiction unless it’s in English, hence the 30k+ post I linked before. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the canon of the material because there are USA high school AUs of things that are originally Japanese, French, happening in mythical AUs, etc. and we read it normally but we wouldn’t see it the same way if it was in our native language. I would barely flinch if I saw a character from a non-American nationality saying 'dude’ in a fic but if they say 'pibe’ it would feel weird. And it makes no sense. So, all in all, I decided to continue writing fics in Spanish once in a while and reading them too, no matter how much time of getting used to it takes. 

As a final note, I want to say that the reason why my blog is mainly in English is because, when it begun (almost 4 years ago) the fandoms I was in had here a majority of people who were not Spanish speakers. Most of the people I met in my first 6 months here were from all over the world and we used English as a bridge language because, sadly, I don’t speak their languages either. Even if it’s rather arguable and has many implications that are too complicated to narrate in this post, having learned English allowed us to communicate somehow and now I’m able to spend this day marveling at their amazing languages. If we hadn’t been speaking in the same language, we wouldn’t have talked in the first place, so I’m not resenting my choice of keeping this blog mainly en English, even if it’s an arguable choice in many ways. I love my language but it has its limitations and learning from others about things we lack of is an amazing way to expand it (for example, did you know that in Spanish we have 2 genders available in every case except for 3 demonstratives, one pronoun and one article, and adjectives agree in gender and number, so if a person chooses a non-binary gender and you want to say that they’re beautiful you have to say 'hermoso’ as in male or 'hermosa’ as in female? yeah, not good). If I didn’t use English, I wouldn’t have been able to talk to so many fantastic people who teach me things about their own languages and cultures, so I don’t resent it, but I also want to keep using my own language more than I normally do, especially while writing fanfiction, and, all in all, I think this day was a tremendous success. Thank you, Serena!