the sword of farts

The Need to Stay

EARLY 1900S LOOFF SEA MONSTER

like he gets asked a stupid question about it being unprecedented for two professional hockey players to be in a romantic relationship and he just deadpans “i think the PWHL has like five couples currently” i think that would be a nice moment for women’s sport and for shane hollander personally

and yes william the conqueror will never be safe from me. I will have my revenge on him. he fucked up a perfectly good germanic language is what he did. this will be me in hell

but the thing is that most words in, say, german do have a one to one english equivalent. not all hope is lost, for those who still dare to see it. it's just that you 1066pilled normancels aren't looking in the right place

dog (en) ≠ der Hund (de) but der Hund (de) -> hound (en)

look with your special eyes. that one was easier. not all of them are this intuitive because of semantic narrowing and broadening and waltzing and hokey-pokeying and whatever else. I'll give you a few more

animal (en) ≠ das Tier (de)

aha! you think. I've got him on the ropes now.

but then

das Tier (de) -> deer (en)

nooooo!! you whine and cry in gay baby jail. the consonants are different!!! listen to me. listen, I say, putting both my hands on your shoulder. /t/and /d/ are the same sound. you just put your voice behind one of them.

nooooooooo!! you wail. deer are animals but not all animals are deer!!! listen to me. LISTEN. they used to be. animals used to be deer. that's just what we called them. it was a long time ago. it was a weird time in all our lives. it's okay.

let's try for a verb this time

to die (en) ≠ sterben (de) but sterben (de) -> to starve

same principle with the consonants, we're just changing a stop (where we completely stop the airflow and then let it through) for a fricative (where we still let some air go through. idk where it's going. maybe to its job or something.)

to starve used to mean generally to die, not just to die of malnourishment. we do that a lot. we take one word for a lot of things and make it mean one thing. or take one word for one thing and make it mean a lot of things. this is common and normal.

"okay but roland," you say, suddenly coming up with an argument. "what about tree? trees are super common. I don't think we'd fuck around too much with that. the german word is baum! what about THAT?"

"when did you learn german?" I ask, but then decide it isn't relevant right at this very moment. but fine.

tree (en) ≠ der Baum (de) but der Baum (de) -> beam (en)

beam??? you ask incredulously. beam???? BEAM?????? you continue with the same tone and cadence of captain holt from brooklyn 99.

yes. beam. like the evil beams from my eye I'm going to hit you with if you don't stop shouting.

but the vowels!!! you howl.

listen. listen to me. the vowels mean nothing. absolutely nothing. they're fluid like water. it got raised in english.

"WHAT DOES RAISED MEAN"

it doesn't matter right now. they were raised better than you, at least. stop shouting. open your eyes and see what god has given you. they're the same word.

"they're NOT the same word. they mean different things!"

we've been over this. they didn't used to. a beam was (and is) a long solid piece of wood. much like the long solid piece of wood I showed your mother last night.

FAQ:

Q: could english be some kind of germanic-romance hybrid?

A: do you become a sexy thing from the black lagoon just because you dressed up as one for halloween? english may have gotten a lot of vocabulary from norman french, but its history and syntax are distinctly germanic. that's what we base these things on.

Q: okay but what does it matter? this doesn't actually affect my day to day life

A: you come into my house? you come into my house, the house of an autistic man living in vienna austria and studying english linguistics and you ask me what does it matter? sit back down. I was going to let you go but now I have powerpoints to show you

Q: you're stupid and wrong and gay and a bad person

A: I know it's you, Willy

This is ABSOLUTELY a perfectly fine footpath.

In fact, with how much space I’m seeing here, it is entirely plausible, that the European hordes will just create a temporary little Wanderweg right next to the highway. With that much space they might not even have to interfere with traffic.

the grass is not a permanent feature. there just happens to be a chunk of it there. the side of the road can vary from grass to swampwater ditches to steep embankments to absolutely nothing within a very short distance.

they will call in every highway enforcer in the state and mass incarcerate the lot of you before they allow you to Darwin Award yourselves across 6 lanes of traffic into an international incident or, (their real concern) impede the progress of the single most important north-south interstate corridor in america, ball kicky game be damned.

“You still want?” “I still wunnt.” leads me to believe that once shane drops masking a little more, he starts feeling comfy letting himself echo ilya from time to time. it starts out with words and phrases that conveniently double as an answer to whatever they’re talking about. like above, ilya asks him something and shane answers using the same words and same inflection, just with his monotone little drone. “You have remote?" "I hayve re-mote."

he fucking loves the was ilya says “probably.” ten out of ten times if ilya’s saying probably, shane’s bringing up the rear with a deadpan but delighted “prah-bubly.”

Shane makes a soft noise. He is so tired. His eyes are drooping, body melting into the sheets like the bed will swallow him whole. He snuggles closer, lifting an arm to palm at Ilya's bicep, fingers spreading over solid muscle. It's so warm. He's so warm. Shane wants to feel this warm forever. "Mm? What?"

"If we'd met before? You think it would have been the same?"

"Before Saskatchawan?"

"If we met as younger teenagers. Do you think you would have still loved me then?"

"Duh." Shane huffs a laugh, his hand now wrapping around Ilya's back and climbing up and threading into the curls at the nape of his neck. He hums, content. "Obviously."

Ilya’s mouth tightens slightly. “Obviously,” he repeats.

"I'd always love you." He thinks of younger Shane Hollander, and remembers wide eyes, awe as he watched younger Ilya Rozanov on the ice, the excitement that bubbled in his chest. "I watched hockey tapes of you. Before we met."

"You did?"

He yawns. "I think I had a crush on you. Which is- wow. Embarrassing."

"Lucky you. Dating your childhood crush." Ilya's tone is smug, but his smile is soft, his thumb stroking Shane's chin like he can't really believe it himself.

He is Freaking Out bc he doesn't actually know what Ilya's phone number is. His SIM card got crushed underneath a pair skates, so there's no recovering "Lily's" contact card.

On top of that, his old Ottowa number won't transfer to his Montreal provider. So "Lily's" texts will now be delivered into the ether. Or to some random person's phone if his old Ottowa number gets given out again.

Ilya of course has literally no idea this has happened and is sending his usual flirtatious messages to...silence. No response. He's not even getting left on read. Because the messages aren't even getting read. He goes through the five stages of grief. Fuck Shane Hollander, he doesn't need this shit. They're supposed to play against each other Tomorrow for fucks sake. His resolve lasts for about....two hours? And then he's on social media. What's this fucking asshole up to that he can't even read Ilya's texts?

He pulls up the first interview, the one right after Buffalo. Shane looks....really stressed out. Which is confusing given that they've just won.

"Yes of course I am super happy to win. Unfortunately the locker room celebration did get a little out of hand though."

He holds up his mangled phone.

"So if you're trying to contact me, sorry about that!"

He's blushing and smiling and seems so flustered and embarrassed. He's looking at a camera, millions of people can hear him, but he's speaking directly to Ilya. Ilya's face breaks out into his "you have a stylist?" smile. He feels....a little embarrassed about his crashout, but also super fucking relieved. Ilya swipes through a couple more videos and watches the most recent interview.

"We are absolutely looking forward to facing off against the Raiders. Also I brought this up last time but, turns out I can't keep my old phone number. So if you're texting me and I'm not responding, it's because I can't!"

He laughs, but it seemd a bit forced. Like he might tear up if he gets pushed the wrong way. Ilya goes back and watches through all the interviews since the Buffalo game. Shane has found a way to bring up his broken phone in every single interview for the past two weeks. It's so sweet...and also a little heartbreaking. He knew exactly what was gonna happen, and was terrified of Ilya thinking that he didn't want to talk to him. He didn't want Ilya to feel alone and confused and upset. He's so fucking ernest and endearing.

Like Shane will come back from having a shower and curl up on the couch beside Ilya and his cheeks are pink from the warm and his hair is wet and in his one of Ilya’s hoodies and he smells like soap and his conditioner and he yawns so big it makes his eyes water and as he curls into the the back of the couch he asks Ilya if they can watch this documentary about penguins that his dad said was good and Ilya just clutches and his chest and crawls forward and keens over and mushes his face into Shane’s chest.

Shane is like “what are you doing?” In a monotone voice and Ilya reaches out to blindly fit his hand to Shane’s cheek and is like “you have killed me” groans and rubs his face into Shane’s chest. And Shane is “from my boring?” Because Ilya does like to die from that every now and again, the last time was when he tried to explain to Ilya how the pans should be stacked in the draw so they don’t scuff. “No” Ilya sighs “even worse, you are so cute I’ve died” and Shane laughs and just smacks Ilya on the side of the head and then pulls at his curls. Ilya drags his face up and pouts and says “you need to give me mouth to mouth” and Shane frowns and mumbles “uh oh” and leans in and kisses Ilya. Because he’ll always play Ilya silly little games with him.