You see a sentence
written in cyrillic. Some of the letters are familiar. You see the
meaning shimmering underneath the surface. You almost grasp it, but it slips away. The letters on the page mock you silently.
You know this Czech word. You’ve already learnt it in Polish. It is not the same word. It is a grave insult. Your slavic friends are shocked and embarassed for you when they hear you speak it.
There is a sentence in
Croatian. There is a sentence in Serbian. There is a sentence in
Bosnian. They are all the same sentence.
You have to write about your day in Slovak. You spend the night polishing the draft. You fail your assigment. It’s written in Czech. You don’t know Czech.
P is not what it seems. You have to remember that.
The Croatian sentence
does not mean what the Bosnian sentence means. They both mean the same in Serbian.
That word has a diminutive. The diminutive has its own diminutive. The diminutive of the diminutive also has a diminutive. Nobody knows what the final diminutive of a word is. Some say the knowledge had been lost in centuries past and matrioshkas are the echo, the tangible warning left for us to remember. No living creature should hold the means of diminishing something into nonexistence. Others say you may still find some of them in old soviet textbooks, if you dare to look in abandoned schools of Chernobyl.
Someone is speaking to you. Is that a he or a she? You aren’t sure. It’s an abstract concept. Why does it have gender.
You see a word in a
dictionary. It has seventeen letters and only one vowel. You close the dictionary very carefully not
looking at the phonetic transcription. The shape of it haunts you in
your sleep. You wake
up face damp with tears, a bitter taste on your tongue. The clock blinks 3:03AM. You do not dare look up that word again.
This word means the
same thing in the five slavic languages you’re familiar with. You use
it in the sixth one. That word does not exist in this language. It never
did. There is now a word-shaped void in the fabric of this language.
The natives look at you uneasily. There is a new quality to the silence and your palms start to sweat.
H is not H. H is not H. H is not H. H is not H.
One day you flip through your dictionary. A page is missing. What was the word? You can’t remember. There is pressure building at the back of your head. The clock blinks 3:03AM.
You write my name
is in cyrillic. There are shadows dancing on the walls. They grow
longer with each letter you write down. It is not cyrillic you’re
using. You keep writing my name is. The shadows now bleed from
the tip of your pen. It’s irrelevant. You need to remember the right
N is not N is not N is
not N is not N is not N is not N is not N is not N is not N is not N
is not… If only you could remember the letters. The letters are important. What was it, that wasn’t N?
There are nine different prefixes
you can add to a verb to change its meaning. There are fifty three different suffixes you have to add to a verb to make it
work. In the end the only thing left of the original is a vague shape
of one of its middle consonants.
You can feel the anguish radiating from the verb’s mutialted form. A desperate sob escapes through your clenched teeth.
You’re so, so sorry, you didn’t meant to. You didn’t. It doesn’t matter.
You now read a text in
Russian. You’ve never learnt Russian. Why are you reading that text? The words burn your eyes,
the meaning searing your mind.
There’s a shot of vodka in front of
you. You don’t drink alcohol. You don’t care. All existence is
meaningless, your soul’s in eternal pain. A broken matrioshka lays at your feet. There is no salvation, she says boring into your eyes. You open your mouth to answer, but there is only a burst of harsh rustle. It dies in whispering echoes a moment later. Your glass is empty again.
Spy!AU Jungkook x Rivals!OC Length: 6.8K Type: Mindless Fluff aka my specialty hehe Warnings: May have angst in later parts; ments of weapons and violence, etc. Recommended OST: (x) ✎ (a/n): this wasn’t supposed to see the light of day until I finished all my other things but I figured I might as well post it because it’ll give me motivation to finish it T^T also… how long has it been since my pure pure fluff days? this part is realllyyyy just fluff hahah next part may have angst and action so stayed tuned bebs. As always comments and feedback is always appreciated. I must give credit where credit is due and say that this is loosely inspired by the Gallagher Girls academy, but mainly the concept of the academy and the mother as a headmistress, but other aspects are birthed from my fluffy ass imagination.
→Summary: “As the daughter of the headmistress, you’re not particularly impressed by the age old history of the academy, the stories turned bland since you spent most of your childhood hearing the tales as your bedtime story. In fact, you remain unfazed by most circumstances, but as luck would have it, these circumstances happened to exclude a certain golden boy named Jeon Jungkook.”
Aha, got him.
Trailing your eyes to from the receding figure to your cellphone, you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips tug themselves upwards.
Yes, this is how it should be. You had no reason to worry, even if it is a mission against his school today.
Rhythmic tapping of your fingers against the screen and your sneakers scratching against the pavement is all that is heard as you drift away from the scene, almost but not quite letting your guard down. You never let your guard down. Subtle vibration of the phone alerts you to the next step of the mission and you swipe your finger across the glass surface, expectant. A familiar robotic voice greets you,
“Hello, welcome to the final stage of your practical. Enclosed in locker 080604 between the intersection of 5th and 7th street you will find a package. Retrieve it. A carrier will arrive at exactly 12:00a.m. on Platform 4 from a train heading South. Deliver the package safely by 1:07a.m. and return to campus by the curfew of dawn. Best of luck.” by the time the voice is done speaking you’ve already thrown the device a few meters away from you where a tiny explosion can be heard.
Sighing slightly, because you’re going to have to run this one, you’re sprinting towards the underground tunnels and away from the crowded streets of downtown, too preoccupied to notice the man in all black on your trail.
“Hey, look at me. It’s not real. There isn’t anything there.”
“It’s okay! Nothing is in here, nothing!”
“Describe what you
see to me.”
“Ssh, I don’t hear anything. We’re alone.”
“I don’t know how to make something that I can’t see go
“Here, squeeze my hand. You can hold onto me. I’m real, I’m
not going anywhere.”
“We’re going to play a game. Focus on yourself and the
things around you. Focus on what’s real, and count. There is one book, there
are two chairs. You have two arms, you have two legs. Okay? Keep counting and
focusing on the things around you.”
“Take a deep breath in, that’s it, now let it out. Come on,
you can do it again. Just breathe.”
“Can you hear me?”
“Sometimes, I can’t even recognize you.”
“Who are you, anymore?”
“Why are you shaking so much?”
“Hey, hey! You’re okay, you’re safe here! Please calm down,
you have to breathe.”
“Here, I made you something to eat. I know you’re never
“Have you had anything to drink or eat today?”
“Did you take your medicine today?”
“How did you sleep?”
“What did you do to yourself?”
“Let me see…please?”
“Here, I’ll clean and bandage it. Alright? Will you let me?”
“Why do you do this to yourself?”
“Stop, stop it! You’re hurting yourself!”
“I’ll leave the light on, okay? Look, it’s not dark.”
“I’ll stay right here. You’re not alone, okay? I’m here.”
“Hey, anxiety’s a bitch, right? I’ll go with you!”
“Hey, I’m proud of you. You did great.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“You’re not broken.”
“Wake up! It’s just a bad dream!”
“You don’t have to be afraid.”
“Come on, we need to go the hospital. You’ll be safe there.”
Hi love! What would you say the top ten sterek fics you've ever read are?
This was REALLY HARD. Mainly bc it’s hard to choose only 10. Because I’m leaving off some great fics (which is why there are more than 10 on here :3)! And some I get mixed up bc I read them so long ago and near each other. (You can always browse my fave fic list here) But I’ve narrowed it to this list. These are the fics that really left impressions on me. They’re all amazing and deserve to be read and loved!!! So…have a TOP 27 FAVE STEREK FICS list :DDDD
In Beacon Hills, the two-year war that’s been raging between werewolves and hunters has begun spilling over onto the civilian population. Meanwhile, in Boston, when the tattoo on Stiles Stilinski’s back is damaged on a late-night hunt he begins to have dreams that lead him across the country, drawn by an inexplicable conviction that he’s needed there. When he discovers that Derek Hale began the war after his mate was killed, Stiles finds himself being offered a strange deal: figure out how to bring the alpha’s mate back, and peace talks can begin.
Stiles has a magical thingamajig that’s supposed to get him out of danger. Trouble is, it took him really, really far out of danger. Like, to the point where he isn’t in the same universe anymore.
“A part of Stiles had been thinking that he’d come home, and just go, ‘hey, Derek, are we mates and you just haven’t said anything about it?’ and Derek would reply, ‘now you mention it, we are indeed! Now come to my bedchamber, where we will have super hot sex and then cuddle after!’”
Stiles’ Jeep grinds to a halt, he sees someone running through the rain, he’s not expecting it to be Derek. He’s not expecting a Derek without any memories either, or an Alpha pack that’s coming for all of them. He probably should’ve, because lately nothing goes the way he expects.
Space contains a multitude of different species, and Derek has seen and helped a lot of them in his time taking down branches of the slave-trade organization. But this is the first time he’s seen an Aloshrivnik. It’s not the tentacles that draw him in; it’s the goddamn eyes that stare at him without backing down.
Derek is a professional classical musician who has found himself lost without a muse, without goal and without even a hint of spark. He’s almost settled nearly contently (if not slightly unwillingly) on having to live his life as a recluse, when his sister finally grows tired of his antics, giving him a Christmas ultimatum.
Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride.
But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”
Stiles Stilinski is the best trapeze artist west of the Mississippi, but that doesn’t do him much good without a catcher. Enter one quiet roughneck who calls himself Derek and knows maybe a little too much about circus arts for someone who was hired to schlep tents. But Derek has his secrets, and so does the new girl, Allison. Who’s being hunted and who’s being haunted, and will Stiles ever be able to convince Derek to help him fly again?
DM: “[the dead body] has a couple coins in his pocket but nothing too interesting”
BARBARIAN: “how many coins..?”
DM: “I dunno, like 7.”
PALADIN: “you are NOT taking a dead mans copper.”
BARBARIAN: “why? hes dead!”
PALADIN: “Its 7 copper pieces holy shit. I will give you one whole gold piece if you dont steal a dead guys copper.”
PALADIN: “one whole gold piece! thats 93% more than your 7 copper pieces!”
BARBARIAN: “fine! I’ll take your stupid money. ”
DM: “okay, if you’re done here you leave the room.”
BARBARIAN: “before we leave I roll slight of hand to pocket the copper pieces.”
PALADIN: “WHAT THE FUCK”
One of my least favorite things lately is people complaining about Seungri not going to any of GD’s concerts yet, like, do you think just because he isn’t actively promoting a solo project (YET) that he’s just sitting at home watching cartoons all day? In the last month he’s gone to New York to train for a jiu jitsu competition - and seems to have been training pretty hard now that he’s home, too - gone to Vegas, opened a new branch of Aori Ramen, and NHR has released about six new singles…he’s busy, okay? And just because he’s not living his life on social media for everyone to see doesn’t mean he’s not supporting Jiyong or anyone else. Maybe instead of complaining that he isn’t living up to your expectations for your ship you could support his non-BigBang projects, too?
Plus if we’re talking about support…where are pictures of GDYB wearing NHR hoodies? They bring up his restaurants but only in a jokey, “Seungri cares more about ramen than music” way. Why is Seungri supposed to drop everything to promote the other 4 but nobody cares if they don’t promote him?