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thecrazyworldbuilder · 2 years

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a random stash of names made from a markov name generator using the drow dictionary according to the forgotten realms wiki; 444 names

please visit @444names if you like this post

Abatiours Abbrim Abolithrow Abothitiond Accound Adencom Ader Aiden Aith Al'abouthe Al'cauder Alinkno Alsem Alth Altre Amil Andard Anzak Appearl Ardivvick Aress Arives Armalthes Atti Aund Avale Avan Avel Avrakkinced Bacak Battack Battion Baunda Baussrin Baut Becka Beles Belf Bereencen Bewatern Blan Blar Blaxless Bour Brie Bront Brow Bwargtha Cadelent Calint Carney Case Chart Chiess Chintionat Chol Cion Cisen Cles Coing Comforker Comilarm Commant Comparn Coms Cone Cong Conour Cons Cont Contiort Cosediciker Costrord Coung Cours Cous Couth Coutionoth Cove Covem Covessred Crethal Cynicideal Cynigg Deemy Delk Derere Derrie Derring Dital Diver Domfoolong Doords Dosen Dossin Dra'dem Drefe Drefun Dres Drigher Drinath Drion Dron Dronslargth Dronthal Duserefe Efullyn Eirr El'cie Eliblay Elis Elity Elly Enciker Ente Expect Expecuth Expenteal Fael' Faelgg Faereff Faericish Falm Faltredes Fave Favelf Favidioness Felal Fhares Fie'qes Fil' Fismall Forkne Fororeearke Fort Frogghtak Frome Frong Frood Frown Fulgg Fulultring Funduarr Funduva Funineirt Gared Gargthide Garl Gianqual Gicike Githalmean Goace Goall Goam Goaty Gobsul Gobsunth Godde Goly Goolhyst Grathrat Gressung Grorkey Guoustuman Gust Guth Haazild Hadelf Haerae Halrat Halse Harce Hardiontrar Hart Havolse Hiirr Hint Hirr Hopean Horr Hose Houp Humaltreve Humess Ideated Ilage Ilha Iling Ilitak Inespecad Inue Inui'el Invidel Iscomple Ithink Izarkey Jalansider Jareetel Jart Jawarce Jawerot Joup Keriguinued Kewarn Khaped Khazaneirr King Kneir Knes Knocisomplu Kulurfult Kyorde Kyoun Kyouper Kyouprick Lacklashath Lal' Lares Larevalsher Larl Larn Lashithaer Laspid Lava Leary Leas Lent Lese Liareed Lightmaymay Limmale Lishitravel Lism Litarted Liyitakhar Londend Lood Lueted Malendra Mall Maltrin Man'hiraty Mastarthal Math Matherivis Meaka Meetin Ment Meted Meting Migh Milonge Miscath Moneemothem Motheepts Muss Mycoupost Nessith Nest Ning Noater Nock Nord Nowe Nowellay Ogang Olbacre Olhareepts Olhyrivill Olhyrr Olvistresor Ontive Orer Orlar Orow Othaer Othront Ounced Ourn Ousharvaim Pant Pardh Pasecuthey Pelvionow Pely Phragrate Phyrrie Pident Pidessibel Ping Plareven Platiomess Pless Plethiggli Ponaltraps Poncepts Poper Pose Premb Proc'usul Pron Proy Pyrraunick Qu'ely Qu'labb Qu'us Qual Qualshah Quer Quul Ra'deasst Raeld Raitem Ravallyn Recreed Remb Rins Riveste Saglitio Sansur Sargent Scarkewar Schal Schirr Scrie Self Sentre Shall Shar Shippasst Siblurfaer Slall Slavistent Snal Sommordh Soms Spide Splardisdow Splin Srighell Ster Stins Straade Strappared Stred Strenthally Stumalsheir Suic Suicasured Sura Swearm Swelight Takerind Talm Talralkynow Teetiordent Testeash Thah Thaut Thazhare Theird Thellar Thentelbaun Thertan Thight Thing Thingth Throgant Throrse Thtne Tionowe Tleashan Torr Town Tra'ded Trapathey Tratint Trild Trindickle Trinyth Trus Trusst Turs Twor Tworme Ully Ulureril Uluts Uncendic Uncep Undean Unden'sary Ustind Usurim Velbour Veld Velith Vente Ving Viouth Waelf Waer Waith Wall Ware Warevesst Warghin Warm Warn Warred Waszar Weale Wencep Westress Whend Whigel Whiirrin Whind Whont Whos Wilithess Winaghand Wisecut Wistalliar Witly Wizzt Worr Xordh Xords Xort Yatcher Yathror Yatimb Yatrer Yourded Yousharm Youth Z'hink Z'orm Z're Z'red Z'reet Zhaluss Zhtmatimbil

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ciuucalatawrites · 7 years

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65 klance

me: *posts this prompt half an year later*

this nony: it’s been 84 years

me: well…. hahaha.. funny story *runs away*

It has been a long time since Keith has last been to a hospital and everything was almost the same.

Same white and pale blue painted walls that looked even paler under the harsh lights. Same grey chairs that somehow didn’t worsen with the passing of time. Same magazines about celebrities scandals that his mother hated. Same plants at random places in the hallways that Keith never understood if they were real or not.

The only things that changed were how old he was and the reason he was here. He was no longer a six years old little boy with a deep bleeding cut on his eyebrow. He was twenty four years old panicking in a hospital chair because the brother he thought to be dead came back to him. He just didn’t know how much of that brother he got back.

“Shit,” he mumbled when he bit too hard into his thumb. He looked down at it and at the blood he drew out because he kept chewing on it ever since he came here twenty minutes ago.

So this wasn’t a dream. This was real. Shiro was here, or there, in that hospital room with their parents. Now if only he could find the courage to go there too. If only he could just stand up and open that fucking door and see for himself that his brother was alive and well and here again.

But the thing was that he was afraid. Shiro went missing for a year after a mission went wrong and the doctors said he was lucky he was mostly intact.

What the fuck did mostly intact even mean?

You’ll find out if you stepped inside that room, you know?

“Fucking coward,” he whispered again dropping his head in his hands and closing his eyes. How was he supposed to do this on his own?

He wasn’t sure he could…

“Keith,” someone called him, making his muscles tense up until he realized that the voice didn’t belong to his mother or father. He opened his eyes surprised but when he looked up he was frowning in confusion when he met a pair of blue eyes. The voice belonged to…

“Lance,” he said just as quietly as before and the relief and calm that flooded him when he saw him made Keith feel ashamed for some reason. “What are you doing here?” he asked, voice louder than it was before, but it was still a little shaky thanks to all the emotions that went in circles inside of him.

Lance searched his face for a long time instead of answering Keith’s question and, after sighing deeply, he came to sit down beside Keith. “I was worried about you.”

“Oh,” Keith breathed out, looking away from him and ignoring the butterflies that came to life as soon as he realized what Lance’s words meant. He didn’t need them now but Lance’s presence there was comforting in some way. And, it might make him selfish, but he needed any kind of comfort now more than ever.

He could feel Lance’s eyes on him still, but Keith refused to meet his eyes. He kept ignoring them until Lance shifted his attention to the closed door in front of them. Silence reigned between them until Lance spoke up again.

“Your brother, huh?” he asked, voice gentle and understanding, with no sign that he was actually expecting an answer.

Keith nodded, not trusting his voice anymore to not break while he was talking. He felt tears stinging his eyes and he bit down on his tongue till it drew blood, but he still couldn’t stop them from falling down his cheeks and creating small dark spots on his jeans. Keith tried to swallow down the lump that appeared in his throat but it was too big, and instead he choked out a broken sob.

He immediately brought both hands over his mouth and leaned over, his elbows resting on his legs so he wouldn’t fall face down on the hospital’s hallway.

God, he was so scared. He had no idea in what condition he could find his brother and no one came out of that damn room to tell him that Shiro was fucking fine. That his brother who he thought of as dead for a year, finally came back to him. And that the doctors were just being vague about his condition for some reason that Keith couldn’t think of right now.

He couldn’t think at all. His feelings created a tornado inside his mind that he had no control over. It was just too much and he just needed something…

He felt a hand tentatively touching his back, almost hovering from how gentle it was.

He just needed someone.

“Keith. Hey, Keith,” Lance called him, voice slow and almost like a whisper. For some reason, Keith felt like a little kid that was comforted during a big storm. “Look at me- just breathe, okay?”

Keith looked up at him, eyes wide open and glistening from the tears that continued to spill even after he took away the hands from his mouth.

“Breathe,” Lance repeated, taking in a deep breath and Keith doing the same without thinking. “Like that! Good!” he said smiling and they continued to inhale and exhale at the same time until Keith calmed down. He was still crying. He held those tears inside of him for too long for them to end just like this, but he didn’t care.

“It’s okay to feel whatever you are feeling, okay?” Lance reassured him, his eyes not wavering once from Keith’s. Keith expected Lance to go on about how he had all the reasons to feel like this and how everything would be okay. He didn’t though. “But you also need to go inside that room. You need to be there for your parents- who are most probably feeling the same thing as you- and you need to be there for your brother. Staying here and letting your thoughts eat you from the inside out isn’t helping anyone. Especially you.”

Keith kept looking at him. “I don’t think I can, Lance,” he whispered back in the end. He barely felt strong enough to talk, let alone get up and walk inside that room.

Out of all the answers Lance could have given him, Keith never expected to see the other boy smile smugly at him. “That’s what I’m here for.” He got up from his seat next to Keith, who followed his movements with his eyes. Lance kept smiling at him and put a hand between them. “I’m not letting you do it alone. I’m here to support you, Keith. We’re gonna walk inside that room and we’re gonna face whatever we see there, together. Okay?”

Keith looked away from Lance’s serious expression to his hand and he stared at it for a few moments. In the end, he took it and Lance helped him get up on his own two feet. He was still looking at their hands when he said quietly, in the small distance between them, a “Thank you, Lance!”

Lance squeezed his hand and Keith looked up at him to see that smile he loved so much on Lance’s face. He tried smiling back, but wasn’t sure how much he accomplished by doing that.

He took a deep breath then and, with his hand still in Lance’s, he turned to walk towards Shiro’s room.

if you like my writing, please consider buying me a coffee

#klance #klance fic #klance fanfic #vld lance #vld keith #ellie scrie #anonymous

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ciuucalata-moved · 7 years

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hi!! so for the minific prompts, can you do 18 for shiro/matt?(i refuse to use shatt. shatt is the worst ship name i have heard in my life.) you are an amazing writer! keep up the awesome work!

aaaah thank you so much!!

18. things you said when you were scared

When he first steps inside the cell, pushed from behind by one of those monstrous soldiers, the first things Shiro notices are the quiet and the stillness of the other prisoners inside the dark room. He could almost taste their fear just like he could taste his own. He could feel their eyes following his every step just like he could feel Matt’s hand slipping into his. He could see the guarded look in their eyes when he sat down on the farthest corner from the door just like he could see Matt’s dried tears on his cheeks.

But the more time he spends inside the cell, the more he realizes how alive it is.

The quiet transforms into shared looks that somehow speak louder than any words and it becomes the whispered conversations he and Matt sometimes have when they aren’t sleeping.

The stillness becomes slow movements inside the cell like an old looking alien that he thought to be a woman looking down with a smile at the child that sat in her lap or someone rubbing comforting circles on the back of his friend or Matt laying with his head on Shiro’s lap when he is sleeping.

The darkness soon becomes the light coming through the door from the ship’s hallways and sometimes even a luminescent color of someone’s eyes or skin.

And Shiro comes to know the monstrous soldiers as Galra. They come and take small groups of five or six aliens, taking them God knows where but that never come back.

If he’s being honest, he is afraid. Afraid of what will happen to that little kid now alone without his aunt. Afraid of what happens to all those that leave but never come back. Afraid for him and Matt and what will become of them.

He doesn’t want to think about what will happen to them.

“Hey,” he whispers in Matt’s ear, bumping his nose on the other boy’s cheek.

“Hey,” Matt replies back just as quietly and turns his face towards him, foreheads and noses touching as they keep their eyes closed.

In this moment Shiro can pretend they are somewhere else. That they are back in their Garrison dorm, huddled in one of the small beds as the darkness of the night and of the room makes them feel as if that room is their whole world. Everything they needed.

“I’m scared,” Matt whispers once again and all Shiro can do is nod.

He nods and moves his head to kiss the corner of Matt’s mouth. It’s quick but familiar, enough to make both of them feel normal even for just a second.

“Me too,” Shiro confesses and puts an arm around Matt’s shoulders to tug him closer to his body in a hug that Matt returns.

Matt cuddles closer and buries his face in the crook of Shiro’s neck, lips pressed to skin in a grounding way.

“But we’re together.”

When Shiro makes no move to reply or at least acknowledge the other boy’s words, Matt moves away from the hug and their eyes meet.

Matt looks at Shiro like he’s trying to solve a problem and he must have come to a solution because there is a promise in his amber eyes as his hands frame Shiro’s face. His thumbs pass over the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones, making Shiro close his eyes and lean in Matt’s touch.

“Takashi, promise me we’ll be together no matter what. I lost my dad- fuck, I lost my whole family. I can’t lose you too.”

Shiro swallows the lump in his throat and puts his hands on Matt’s wrists but doesn’t move them away.

If he keeps his eyes closed he can just pretend they are anywhere but in this hell hole.

“Takashi.”

“Yes. Okay. I promise,” he says knowing that there is no way that they could stay together until the end. He still promises Matt though.

He still makes that promise knowing that he’d do anything -even sacrifice himself to keep Matt as safe as possible.

#shatt #shatt fic #shatt fanfiction #miro #shatt fanfic #vld shiro #matt holt #takashi shirogane #ellie scrie

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fshdro · 4 years

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The Half of It (2020)

Ellie Chu, o tipă isteață, dar lefteră, acceptă să scrie o scrisoare de dragoste pentru un sportiv. Nu se aștepta să-i devină amică și să le placă de aceeași fată. Read the full article

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rudyroth79 · 5 years

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Născut la Praga în ziua de 3 iulie 1883, Franz Kafka (m. 3 iunie 1924, Kierling, Austria) era fiul lui Hermann Kafka (1852 – 1931), negustor şi fabricant, şi al Juliei (1856 – 1934), născută Löwy, într-o familie bogată din Poděbrady.

Cei doi fraţi, Georg şi Heinrich, mai tineri decât viitorul scriitor, mor la vârsta copilăriei. Surorile sale, Gabrielle (Elli), Valerie (Valli), Otillie (Ottla), născute în 1889, 1890, 1892, aveau să-şi găsească sfârşitul în timpul celui de-al doilea război mondial, în ghetto-ul de la Łódź, unde fuseseră deportate. Numele Kafka (Kavka), spune Max Brod, prietenul cel mai apropiat şi editorul unei părţi importante a operei lui Franz Kafka, după moartea scriitorului, era răspândit printre evreii cehi. ”Kavka” înseamnă ”stăncuţă alpină cu capul mare şi coada stufoasă”.

Această pasăre era emblema de pe firma magazinului lui Hermann şi apărea pe plicurile folosite de Franz Kafka în tinereţe. Germana era limba maternă a cel puţin 10% din populaţia oraşului Praga la sfârşitul secolului al XIX-lea.

Relaţia dificilă dintre tată şi fiu domină copilăria lui Kafka, înscris la şcoala primară de la Fleischmarket (Piaţa de carne), în str. Másna, unde primeşte o educaţie limitată. În 1901 absolvă Gimnaziul Altstädter. Este interesat de literatură şi de ideile socialiste, scrie câteva scenete de teatru jucate în familie de surorile sale. E preocupat de teatrul lui Ibsen şi de teoria darwinistă, îi citeşte pe Spinoza, Nietzsche, Hofmannsthal, Flaubert Brentano, Kleist. ”Casa Buddenbrook” (1901) de Thomas Mann îl entuziasmează, la fel ca şi proza marilor scriitori ruşi. În perioada 1901 – 1906 studiază, timp de două semestre, germanistica, apoi dreptul la Universitatea Germană din Praga. În 18 iunie obţine titlul de doctor în drept. Un an şi jumătate face practică în biroul de avocatură al unui unchi, pentru ca în iulie 1908 să intre în serviciul Companiei de asigurări împotriva accidentelor, unde va lucra până la pensionare, în 1922. Conştiincios, suportă cu resemnare mediocritatea carierei de funcţionar. Din 1907 datează povestirile care vor apărea în 1958 în volumul ”Pregătiri de nuntă la ţară”, ”Descrierea unei lupte”, ”Odradek” ş.c.l., menţionate de Max Brod în revista berlineză ”Die Gegenwart”. În 1910 începe scrierea ”Jurnalului” şi călătoreşte cu Max Brod la Paris. 1912 este un an decisiv pentru activitatea prozatorului. Începe să scrie romanul ”America” (”Dispărutul”), în noiembrie–decembrie scrie nuvela ”Metamorfoza”, publicată după trei ani, în decembrie citeşte în public ”Verdictul”. În iunie 1914 se logodeşte la Berlin cu Felice Bauer, dar după o lună rupe logodna. A doua logodnă cu Felice Bauer va avea o soartă asemănătoare, fiind ruptă după câteva luni, în decembrie 1917, după ce i se pusese diagnosticul de tuberculoză pulmonară. În noiembrie 1916, citise în public, la München, ”Colonia penitenciară”, publicată în 1919, când se logodeşte cu Julie Wohryzeck. ”Scrisoare către tata”, mărturia cea mai elocventă a complexului de inferioritate trăit de Franz Kafka, apare în noiembrie 1919, în Silezia:

”Dragă tată,

M-ai întrebat nu de mult de ce spun că mă tem de tine. Ca de obicei n-am fost în stare să-ţi dau nici un răspuns, pe de o parte tocmai fiindcă mă tem de tine şi pe de altă parte fiindcă explicaţia acestui sentiment e mult prea complexă pentru ca s-o pot face prin viu grai. Şi dacă încerc să-ţi dau un răspuns în scris, nu va fi nici el decât foarte aproximativ, deoarece până şi în scris teama şi consecinţele ei rămân un obstacol în relaţiile dintre noi doi şi pentru că am atât de mult material încât îmi depăşeşte şi memoria şi puterea de înţelegere.”

Acest complex trăit cu intensitate, explicabil doar până la un punct prin elementele biografice, aproape straniu, dacă nu cumva absurd, se resimte din plin în ”Verdictul”, ”America” şi ”Metamorfoza”.

Kafka și realismul absurd

”Metamorfoza” (”Die Verwandlung”) este povestea noii vieţi a comerciantului Gregor Samsa, care se trezeşte într-o dimineaţă transformat într-o insectă, probabil un gândac. Nimeni nu-l înţelege, nici măcar şeful care, venit să-l ia la muncă, pleacă nervos. Această alegorie coşmarescă, spune Kafka în ”Convorbirile cu Gustav Janouch”, ”nu este o confesiune, ci într-un anume sens, o indiscreţie autobiografică”. Samsa ”sună ca o criptogramă pentru Kafka.” ”Gregor Samsa este celibatarul sisific, motivaţia lui în existenţă fiind una de ordin funcţional. Transformarea lui în miriapod, anulat ca individ ce-şi poate motiva dreptul la viaţă, alienat de părinţi, privat de amorul sororal, Gregor Samsa acceptă moartea ca o necesitate, într-o lume situată sub zodia utilului.” (Romul Munteanu, Prefaţă la vol. Franz Kafka, ”Procesul”, Bucureşti, Editura Minerva, BPT, 1977).

”Metamorfoza” este ”înainte de toate povestea unui om care se vede abandonat de semenii săi. Pentru Gregor, viitorul profesional, viaţa familială şi socială sunt definitiv compromise. Orice nouă încercare de revenire este exclusă. […] Se regăseşte aici o constantă a tematicii lui Kafka: absenţa sensului vieţii. Nici o problemă metafizică în Metamorfoza. Trebuie văzut exact ceea ce este. Nimeni nu se întreabă care ar fi motivul ştiinţific al metamorfozei. Ea s-a petrecut, pur şi simplu, ca o fatalitate care poate cădea pe capul oricui, în orice moment. Nu poţi schimba nimic şi este inutil să te întrebi care este motivul. Viaţa, pe cât de absurdă, trebuie trăită aşa cum e; dacă nu, rămâne întotdeauna moartea… Iată de ce elementul fantastic inevitabil în punctul de plecare al Metamorfozei este repede eliminat de un realism absurd.” (Walter Paisley).

În decembrie 1920, după ce în vară se îndrăgostise de jurnalista cehă Milena Jerenská, Franz Kafka este internat în sanatoriul Matliary din Munţii Tatra. Boala se agravează. În 1922 lucrează la romanul ”Castelul”, care va apărea postum, în 1926, ca şi ”Procesul” (1925), scrie ”Cercetările unui câine” şi ”Un artist al foamei”. În 1923 doreşte să se însoare cu Dora Dymant, pe care o cunoscuse în staţiunea balneară Müritz. Hermann Kafka se opune căsătoriei. În 17 martie 1924 este adus de Max Brod în casa părintească de la Praga, în stare gravă. Tratamentul în sanatoriul de la Kierling, lângă Viena, rămâne fără rezultate. Moare în 3 iunie 1924. Este înmormântat în 11 iunie, în Cimitirul evreiesc din Praga.

Ce s-ar fi întâmplat dacă Max Brod ar fi urmat dorința lui Kafka de a-i distruge manuscrisele? Cu dispariția a două dintre cele mai importante scrieri ale sale, romanele ”Castelul” și ”Procesul”, influența lui Kafka nu ar fi fost, fără îndoială, atât de puternică pentru proza modernă și în general pentru filosofia absurdului și toate derivatele ei, atât de cultivate de existențialiști. Nu vreau să spun că opera sa ar fi fost una de plan secund, dar interesul acordat ”Coloniei penitenciare”, ”Metamorfozei” și altor povestiri nu ar fi putut egala faima dobîndită cu cele două romane, de referință pentru viziunea asupra condiției umane la mijlocul secolului al XX-lea. Universul kafkian, cu nota lui specifică de presiune psihologică, vină necunoscută, acuzații absurde, birocrație monstruoasă, claustrare, coșmar, a impus o reconsiderare nu numai a unor teme consacrate, a sondării psihologiei abisale și a problemei libertății, ci și la nivelul scriiturii. În miezul cotidianului celui mai banal se află absurdul existențial, în înlănțuirea logică, firească, a vieții apare inexplicabilul, care naște monstruosul. Albert Camus observa că ”la Kafka cele două lumi sunt cea a vieţii cotidiene, pe de o parte, şi cea a neliniştii supranaturale, pe de altă parte. Se pare că asistăm aici la o nesfârșită exploatare a cuvintelor lui Nietzsche: «Marile probleme se întâlnesc în stradă». Există în condiţia umană – e un loc comun al tuturor literaturilor – o absurditate fundamentală şi în acelaşi timp o implacabilă măreţie. Amândouă coincid, cum e şi firesc. Amândouă sunt întruchipate, să o mai spunem o dată, în divorţul ridicol care desparte necumpătatele noastre elanuri sufleteşti de bucuriile pieritoare ale trupului. Absurdul stă în faptul că sufletul acestui trup îl depăşeşte atât de nemărginit. Cel ce vrea să reprezinte această absurditate va trebui să-i dea viaţă printr-un joc de contraste paralele. Astfel, Kafka exprimă tragedia prin cotidian şi absurdul prin logică.”

”Odradek”, un text de nici două pagini din ”Pregătiri de nuntă la ţară”, este una dintre cele mai stranii şi enigmatice povestiri ale lui Kafka, semnificativă pentru imaginarul scriitorului. O reproducem integral, în traducerea lui Saşa Pană:

”Unii spun că vorba Odradek e de origine slavă şi plecând de la această teză, caută să-i demonstreze formarea. Alţii pretind că, dimpotrivă, acest cuvânt este de origine germană; slava l-ar fi înrâurit numai. Nesiguranţa celor două interpretări îngăduie, pe bună dreptate, să se conchidă că nici una din amândouă nu este exactă, cu atât mai mult cu cât nici una din ele nu poate să dea sensul acestei vocabule.

Fireşte, nimeni nu s-ar gândi să se dedea la astfel de studii, dacă n-ar exista de fapt o fiinţă care se numeşte Odradek. La prima vedere, ea oferă înfăţişarea unei bobine turtite în formă de stea şi pare în adevăr încolăcită de aţă; la drept vorbind, ar putea foarte bine să fie capete vechi de aţă încâlcite şi încurcate, de cele mai felurite culori şi grosimi. Or, nu-i o simplă bobină : în centrul stelei se ridică un bastonaş pieziş, la care se adaugă unul în unghi drept. Cu ajutorul acestuia din urmă, de-o parte, şi cu una din razele stelei de cealaltă, totul se ţine ridicat ca pe două picioare.

Ai fi îndemnat să crezi că lucrul ăsta a avut odată o formă bună la oarecare întrebuinţare şi acum s-ar fi spart. Se pare că nu-i aşa: cel puţin nici o urmă nu o probează; nici o spărtură nu permite să se bănuiască aşa ceva. Totul pare, e adevărat, lipsit de sens, dar în felul său complet. Nu s-ar putea să i se adauge ceva, cu atât mai mult cu cât Odradek este extraordinar de agil şi de nepătruns.

El stă pe rând în grânar, în cuşca de sub scară, pe culoare, în sală. Pot trece, câteodată, luni întregi fără să fie văzut: fără îndoială că atunci a emigrat în alte locuinţe. Uneori, când înaintează pe palier şi-l zăreşti în jos, sprijinit de balustrada scării, îţi vine să-i vorbeşti. Bineînţeles, nu i se adresează chestiuni grele, ci e tratat – micimea sa te invită la asta – ca un copil. «Cum te numeşti?» îl întrebi. «Odradek», spune el. «Şi unde locuieşti?» Iar dânsul răspunde «Domiciliu nesigur» şi râde; dar cu un râs ce s-ar putea scoate fără plămâni, ceva care fâşâie ca frunzele moarte sub picioare. De cele mai dese ori conversaţia se termină cu atâta. Şi de altfel chiar răspunsurile acestea nu se pot căpăta totdeauna; adesea rămâne mult timp mut ca şi lemnul din care pare făcut.

Degeaba mă întreb ce va ajunge. Poate măcar să moară? Tot ceea ce moare a cunoscut un fel de scop, un fel de activitate care l-a consumat: nu este cazul pentru Odradek. Îl vom mai vedea mâine, trăgând după el capete de aţă, rostogolindu-se pe scară la picioarele copiilor mei? El nu strică poate nimănui, dar gândul, numai, că ar putea să-mi supravieţuiască, ideea asta îmi este aproape dureroasă.”

Arhiva rubricii Filă de calendar

”95 de ani de la moartea lui Franz Kafka” de Costin Tuchilă Născut la Praga în ziua de 3 iulie 1883, Franz Kafka (m. 3 iunie 1924…

#Costin Tuchilă #cultură #ficţiune #Franz Kafka #Gregor Samsa #istorie #literatură #Max Brod #Odradek #proză

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luizaradulea-blog · 6 years

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REVISTA PRESEI 16.08.2018

Adevărul * Cum explică medicul rezident declaraţiile jignitoare la adresa protestatarilor Publicaţia Adevărul despre medicul rezident: „Rezidenta care i-a criticat dur, pe Facebook, pe protestatarii de la mitingul din 10 august a revenit cu o postare în care le cere scuze pentru cuvintele grele folosite. Zălăuanca Sorina Petruşan Dunca, medicul rezident care a lansat în mediul online un atac dur la adresa românilor participanţi la mitingul din 10 august din Piaţa Victoriei, şi-a reactivat, în cursul zilei de miercuri, contul de Facebook, la câteva zile după postarea în care le transmite, printre altele, protestatarilor „Să beţi cu paiul câte zile mizerabile mai aveţi de trăit!” şi „să vă omoare jandarmii în bătaie. Într-un nou mesaj postat pe contul său, femeia, care este soţie de jandarm, scrie: „Îmi cer scuze faţă de cei care s-au simtit jigniţi de postarea mea, în niciun caz nu am intenţionat asta. Vreau să lămuresc câteva lucruri apărute în presă şi cu asta sper să se încheie subiectul. Am fost şocată să văd o femeie, în haina militară, care a ieşit să îşi facă datoria, aşa cum trebuie să ne-o facem toţi. Am fost în stare de şoc să văd acele imagini în care femeia neajutorată era sfâşiată de mulţime. Nu am avut nicio intenţie să jignesc diaspora, ci pe acei oameni care au lovit-o cu bestialitate pe femeie. Acei oameni, după parerea mea, nu merită mila niciunui judecător! Şi ar avea o scuză dacă nu ar fi normali la cap. Pe mine jandarmii m-au apărat când am fost la rândul meu agresată la evenimentele de voluntariat. Este dureros să fie traşi la răspundere doar pentru că şi-au făcut datoria. Îmi este teamă de momentul în care ei se vor teme să mai acţioneze. Îmi cer scuze încă o data de la oamenii care s-au simţit jigniţi. Am fost în stare de şoc să văd acele imagini în care o femeie neajutorată era linşata de mulţime la un protest!” Bancherul * Strategii diferite ale primelor trei banci: in timp ce BCR si BRD au acordat in exces credite de consum si ipotecare populatiei, Banca Transilvania finanteaza cu prioritate economia reala Conform publicaţiei Bancheurul: „In timp ce BCR si BRD au intrat in euforia consumului, creditand in exces populatia, Banca Transilvania (BT), devenita recent cea mai mare banca din Romania dupa preluarea Bancpost, continua sa-si respecte statutul de banca oamenilor intreprinzatori, acordand mai multe finantari IMM-urilor si firmelor mari decat credite de consum si ipotecare persoanelor fizice. Banca Transilvania si-a majorat soldul creditelor pentru companii cu 1 miliard de lei in prima jumatate din acest an, la un total de 16 miliarde lei in iunie 2018, de la 15 miliarde lei la finalul anului trecut. Ambele segmente, atat firmele mari cat si IMM-urile, au avut o crestere identica, de cate o jumatate de miliard: soldul de finantari al firmelor mari a avansat la 11,2 miliarde lei, in timp ce stocul de credite pentru IMM-uri a urcat la 4,8 miliarde lei. In aceeasi perioada, creditele pentru persoane fizice au crescut cu 700 milioane lei, de la 16,7 la 17,4 miliarde lei. Creditele de consum au avansat cu 300 milioane lei, la 8,5 miliarde lei, in timp ce creditele imobiliare au sporit cu o jumatate de miliard, de la 8,4 la 8,9 miliarde lei. Din totalul finantarilor in lei pentru firme, 81% sunt in lei, in timp ce in cazul creditelor pentru populatie, ponderea celor in lei este de 77%. Numarul de credite noi pentru IMM-uri a fost de aproape 9.500 in primul semestru al anului, in timp ce persoanor fizice au fost acordate 38.000 de credite. BT precizeaza ca a continuat sa se concentreze pe sectorul IMM-urilor si in prima jumatate din acest an. In cazul companiilor mari, banca din Cluj are ca prioritate specializarea sectoriala, fiind prezenta cu facilitati de credite in special in industria productiva si sectorul agricol”. Cotidianul * Oligarhia serviciilor şi aristocraţia dolarului Cotidianul anunţă că: „O obiecţie aparent minoră a magistratului care judecă dosarul legăturilor dintre Rusia şi fostul şef al campaniei lui Donald Trump a iscat o polemică în presa americană cu privire la cine conduce Federaţia Rusă: multimiliardarii sau serviciile secrete şi celelalte instituţii de forţă? Judecătorul T.S. Ellis a cerut evitarea termenului „oligarh” atunci când se face referire la afaceriştii ruşi cu care a avut legături Paul Manafort, fostul şef de campanie al lui Donald Trump, acum judecat pentru fraudă fiscală. Termenul induce în eroare cu privire la realităţile politice din Rusia, scrie analistul Leonid Bershidsky pentru Bloomberg. Pentru el, puterea deţinută de oligarhia de afaceri a fost o realitate în perioada preşedintelui Boris Elţîn şi în Ucraina, unde marii afacerişti aveau influenţă hotărâtoare asupra deciziilor politice. În Rusia lui Putin lucrurile stau altfel. „Se poate ca Rusia să fie în continuare o oligarhie, însă oamenii de afaceri bogaţi şi cleptocraţii nu sunt oligarhii din acest sistem. Oligarhii sunt şefii serviciilor secrete şi ai armatei. Cu ei se sfătuieşte Putin în chestiuni politice, nu cu camarila miliardarilor. Dacă vom considera Rusia o oligarhie a şefilor serviciilor şi armatei, atunci avem nevoie şi de o abordare diferită de cea a sancţiunilor economice, însă niciun guvern vestic nu vede lucrurile astfel”. * Rusia, o oligarhie a serviciilor secrete Oligarhia din Rusia asigurată de „siloviki” (membrii structurilor de forţă) este analizată de David Ignatius într-un articol publicat de The Washington Post la finalul lunii iulie – „Acesta nu este KGB-ul de pe vremea bunicilor”. Preşedintele Putin, cel ales de acest sistem oligarhic al serviciilor şi militarilor, pare să nu se teamă de faptul că operaţiunile serviciilor ruse sunt tot mai des devoalate, scrie Ignatius. „Scopul său nu este să fure secrete, ci să destabilizeze sistemul american. Cu cât sunt mai mulţi oameni obsedaţi de spionii ruşi, cu atât mai bine din perspectiva lui Putin”. Fostul şef al CIA, John Brennan caracterizează astfel actualele servicii ruse: „Sunt un sistem divers, antreprenorial şi competitiv… Unele realizări ale lor sunt bune, demonstrând măiestrie în spionaj”. Fostul angajat CIA Rolf Mowatt-Larssen remarcă o schimbare de generaţii în serviciile ruse: „Preţul înclinării bruşte spre acţiune mai rapidă este creşterea confuziei. Deciziile pripite sunt mai multe. Supravegherea din partea celor mai experimentaţi s-a redus”. * GRU şi FSB nu sunt KGB-ul din Războiul Rece Acest mod de operare a fost indus de însuşi Vladimir Putin, fost ofiţer KGB. „El a preferat un model mai fragmentat, mai lax, cu diferite servicii concurând pentru a intra în graţiile şefului. Vechiul KGB s-a spart în SVR, care a moştenit spionajul, şi FSB, care asigură securitatea interna”. „GRU, spionajul militar, este cea mai îndrăzneaţă aripă a serviciilor ruse şi acum pare să-şi revină după greşelile comise în războiul din Georgia, din 2008”, este citat Mark Galeotti, expert în spionajul rus. Galeotti vede mâna GRU în anexarea Crimeii, în 2014, în doborârea avionului Malaysia Airlines deasupra Ucrainei, în acelaşi an, în intervenţia în politica SUA, în 2016, şi în tentativa de asasinare cu gaz toxic a fostului agent rus Serghei Skripal. „Acesta nu mai este KGB-ul de pe vremea bunicilor. Putin conduce un serviciu de spionaj cu mai multe platforme, conceput pentru era internetului, eficient şi devastator ca şi o imagine Snapchat”, concluzionează David Ignatius”. Curierul National * Lovitură pentru guvernul DĂNCILĂ! Dezvaluiri incendiare despre planurile instaurării dictaturii în România! Curierul Naţional relatează că: „După recentele proteste împotriva actualei guvernări PSD-ALDE, reprimate de jandarmerie, senatorul liberal Florin Cîţu identifică o asemănare între discursul regimului iliberal de la Ankara şi cel rostit de membrii guvernului Dăncilă. Liberalul îl citează pe ministrul Finanţelor, Eugen Teodorovici, care şi-a vărsat recent nervii pe companiile cu capital străin după manifestaţiile antiguvernamentale. Ministrul PSD a insinuat că multinaţionalele sunt responsabile pentru aducerea în piaţă a instigatorilor, retorică folosită intens de preşedintele turc Recep Tayyip Erdogan.”Preşedintele turc Recep Tayyip Erdogan a anunţat marţi că Turcia va boicota produsele electronice din SUA, drept contramăsură în disputa cu Washingtonul care a provocat scăderea lirei la niveluri record – Reuters. Eugen Teodorovici: Dacă Guvernul aplică o măsură contrară interesului unor anumite companii din România şi din lume, cine poate să creadă că acestea nu vor avea un interes să aducă în stradă câţiva instigatori?”, a scris Florin Cîţu pe o retea de socializare”. Jurnalul National * Meciul Simonei Halep, întrerupt în setul decisiv la Cincinnati

Publicaţia informează că: „Meciul dintre jucătoarea română de tenis Simona Halep, numărul unu mondial, şi australianca Ajla Tomljanovic a fost întrerupt din cauza ploii la scorul 4-6, 6-3, 4-3, 30-15, miercuri, în runda a doua a turneului WTA de la Cincinnati (Ohio), dotat cu premii totale de 2.874.299 dolari. Partida, care dura de două ore şi 6 minute (joc efectiv), va fi reluată joi, la ora 20,00 (ora României), au anunţat organizatorii. Halep (26 ani), principala favorită şi finalistă anul trecut la Cincinnati, a început destul de slab meciul şi a fost condusă în primul set cu 4-1 şi 5-2. Românca a revenit şi s-a apropiat la 5-4, dar a încheiat setul cu o dublă greşeală (4-6). În actul secund, Halep a jucat mai bine, a făcut mai puţine erori şi a reuşit să se impună cu 6-3, după ce a rupt echilibrul la 3-2 în favoarea sa. Înaintea ultimului set, Tomljanovic (25 ani, 58 WTA) a cerut timeout medical, iar pauza a scos-o din ritm pe Halep, care a pierdut primele trei ghemuri. Românca a făcut şi ea apel la medic, pentru dureri la spate, iar la revenirea de la vestiare a avut o serie remarcabilă de patru ghemuri consecutive. Jocul a fost întrerupt în ghemul opt, la 30-15 pentru Halep, pe serviciul jucătoarei de origine croată. Dacă va trece de Tomljanovic, Halep va juca în optimi, tot joi (vineri, ora 04,00, în România), cu australianca Ashleigh Barty, pe care a învins-o săptămâna trecută la Montreal”. National * Lista „acoperitilor” din DIICOT! Conform publicaţiei National: „Daca la Directia Nationala Anticoruptie resetarea din temelii a structurii continua sa intarzie in lipsa numirii unui nou procuror sef, cu totul altfel par sa stea lucrurile la DIICOT. Unde, odata cu instalarea lui Felix Banila si aducerea la „butoanele operative” ale structurii ale unor nume grele din interior precum procuroarele Giorgiana Hosu sau Mariana Alexandru, lucurile pareau sa intre in linie dreapta. Si, dupa cum dezvaluiam cu ceva vreme in urma, principala prioritate a actualei echipe de conducere a DIICOT-ului este dezgroparea „scheletilor” din sertarele procurorilor care pana acum l-au dus de nas pe „gladiatorul” Daniel Horodniceanu cum au vrut ei.Insa cum aceasta misiune nu poate fi indeplinita decat prin identificarea procurorilor care au recurs la astfel de „colaborari paralele” cu alte structuri ale statului paralel, s-a cerut si la DIICOT, dupa modelul DNA, o situatie la zi cu procurorii care, desi nu prea ar indeplini conditiile legale de a-si desfasura activitatea la aceasta structura de elita, continua sa instrumenteze unele dintre cele mai sensibile dosare. Numai ca, surpriza de proportii, primele raportari ar fi cel putin intoxicari la limita bunului simt, daca nu cumva falsuri depline. Pentru ca la nivelul DIICOT, ramasitele „hastagiene” de pe vremea cand procurorii erau pusi sa numere pufuletii de pe tarabe ca sa poata raporta mari dosare de evaziune fiscala soldate cu sechestre de miliarde de lei care nu vor fi recuperate in veci, de-abia daca au fost recunoscuti si asumati de catre structurile teritoriale doi procurori mari si lati care ar fi detasati aici, desi nu indeplinesc conditiile legale, printre care vechimea minima obligatorie ca si statut de procuror pe langa o Curte de Apel. Astfel ca acum, pentru a nu fi luata de proasta chiar cu totul, noua echipa de conducere va lua la puricat intreaga organigrama teritoriala, pentru a putea fi astfel identificati procurorii aflati in asemenea situatii ingrate si asupra carora planeaza, normal, „suspiciunea rezonabila” ca ar putea fi folositi de catre alte structuri”.

Sursa: bursa.ro

REVISTA PRESEI 16.08.2018

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7estiasi · 7 years

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Momente de coşmar pentru Ellie White! Artista a ajuns cu copiii de urgenţă la spital

Ellie White a trecut prin momente cumplite în ultimele luni. Artista a spus că cei doi copii ai săi s-au îmblonăvit şi chiar au ajuns de urgenţă la spital, scrie CanCan.

Ellie White a mărturisit că în decembrie a ajuns cu băieţelul ei, Mihai, de urgenţă la spital din cauza unui virus foarte puternic. După ce a reuşit să-l pună pe picioare pe băieţel, artista a avut probleme cu fata sa, care a…

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ciucalata · 1 year

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title: and your eyes look like coming home (1/6)

pairing: buckingham; background steddie

rating: G

summary: in which a bad date, getting drunk at brunch and some perfume forces them to finally talk about their feelings.

Closing the door behind her, Chrissy toed off her running shoes and took out her earbuds, smiling as Evie’s meows followed her to her room. Once she set down her phone and earbuds, she finally bent down to pet Evelyn before she could start literally screaming for her attention.

“We already saw each other half an hour ago, baby,” she giggles, scratching the cat under her chin. “And I also gave you food then.”

Evie meowed once again, bumping her forehead into every part of Chrissy she could reach: her knuckles, her knees, her shins. Chrissy rolled her eyes fondly at her while shaking her head. “I am not picking you up. I am still sweaty from running and your fur will stick to my skin. Robin is spoiling you too much.”

“That’s not true.”

Startled, Chrissy lost balance and almost fell over her cat hearing the voice behind her, but she managed to regain her balance quickly thanks to years of cheerleading. With a hand over her chest, she turned towards a smiling Robin.

She was standing in the doorway, her hands playing with the strings of her too big hoodie. It would have all been normal if it weren’t for the face splitting grin she had on her face. Chrissy knew that seven am was too early for Robin to either be awake or have such a big smile on her face. Something wasn’t right. Chrissy just couldn’t understand what.

Evie meowd loudly at Chrissy for not giving her attention anymore and left her for Robin, who happily bent down to pick the cat in her arms. Evelyn immediately started purring, rubbing her cheecks on Robin’s chin.

Traitor, Chrissy thought, trying and failing not to be jealous of her own cat. God, how she wished she could cuddle up with Robin like that. She didn’t let her thoughts wander further than that as she stood up, turning to face her roommate.

“Why are you so happy this morning?”

“No reason,” Robin replied too quickly and Chrissy narrowed her eyes at her. “Maybe I’m just happy to see you?”

Chrissy felt herself flush at Robin’s words, her mind going blank in a second. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but when no words wanted to get past her useless brain, she turned around and forced out a laugh. She knew Robin wasn’t flirting with her. She had seen too many times the lovesick gaze Robin gave to Vickie at parties, had comforted her too many times when she got her heart broken by other girls and, of recently, had listened too many times to Robin waxing poems about Nancy. She knew this meant nothing but her poor heart still skipped a beat happily.

The silence was stretching out too far for it to still be comfortable, but Chrissy still didn’t know what to say to that. God, she used to be good at flirting, she used to love it, especially when it was playful. But when it came to Robin, she was out of her depth. She couldn’t playfully flirt back, because it would be too real for her. So in the end all she could do was act awkwardly till it was too much for Robin to handle and she took over worh her rambling.

As if on cue, Robin started talking about her plans for today.

“Actually, I woke up this early because Steve called while you were out running. Which made me panic because I thought he was supposed to be running with you. I almost put down the phone and ran out after you to make sure you were safe before he told me that you were out with Lucas, instead.”

Chrissy hummed to let her know she was listening while she was looking through her clothes, trying to pick out the outfit for today. “Yeah, Steve sent me a message last night telling me that he had something to do this morning and he sent Lucas in his place. Which was really nice. Lucas is way more talkative than Steve so we talked almost the whole time. He’s really a sweet kid.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Robin said and Chrissy turned to smile at her. It was the worst idea she ever had because while they were talking, Robin somehow made her way towards Chrissy’s bed and laid down on it, surrounded by her pillows and comforter, with Evie happily sitting on her chest. She looked so soft, Chrissy felt almost sick with longing. She turned back to her closet, willing her tears to not make an appearance. She didn’t want to cry about not being able to touch Robin’s hair in front of her.

“Thanks. You should join us next time.” She had no idea if her voice came out normal or not, but Robin didn’t comment on it, so she must have done at least a good job at pretending she was okay.

Robin’s laugh filled the room and, despite the stab of pining it brought, it also made Chrissy smile. “Not a chance, Cunningham. We both know exercising isn’t my forte. You’d have to carry me the whole way in your arm if that ever happened. Anyway, the reason Steve called is because he invited us over at their place for brunch.”

“That’s nice,” Chrissy said, finally deciding on a baby blue dress she hasn’t worn yet this summer. She took it out of the closet and turned around to show it off to Robin.

“Oh! I love this dress. It always looks amazing on you.”

Chrissy flushed once again, but she didn’t try to hide the blush this time. Instead, she smiled at Robin and thanked her.

“But isn’t it too much for bruch with just Steve, Eddie and the others?” Robin asked, smiling down at Evie while she kept purring on her chest.

“Oh, this isn’t for brunch. I already told Steve last night that I can’t come.”

“Oh?”

Chrissy put the dress down on the back of her desk chair and turned towards the shleves with her shoes.

“Yeah, I have a date today. And I wanted to get her some flowers before we met for lunch.” The giddiness Chrissy felt all week for this date was buzzing under her skin but, with Robin so close to her, it almost felt wrong.

“Oh.”

Chrissy waited for Robin to say something more, but when the silence stretched on and on, almost turning back to awkward, Chrissy frowned. She turned to face Robin once again, only this time the other girl was looking away from her. She was looking at the ceiling and biting her lip so hard, it looked painful. While Chrissy was searching her expression trying to understand what made her look like that, Robin suddenly sat up, Evie making her disapproval heard by meowing as she jumped down. Chrissy felt like something wrong happened as she followed Robin with her eyes from the bed fowards her bedroom’s door, where she stopped once again.

“Robin?”

Robin turned slowly towards her and when their eyes finally met, she smiled at Chrissy. This one felt even more wrong than the last, but Chrissy couldn’t figure out why.

“That’s amazing, Chrissy. You’ll have to tell me all about it later, okay?” Chrissy nodded, feeling like she missed something, and Robin nodded back. “I’m going to sleep some more before I’ll have to meet the guys for brunch. Have fun on your date.”

Then she left just as soon as she appeared, leaving behind a very confused Chrissy.

part 2

#ellie scrie #buckingham #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #sorry if some parts sound weird but I haven’t written in years so it’s all rusty #idk how it turned into this mess when jt was supposed to be just fluff #anyway enjoy!!!#fic: and your eyes look like coming home

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ciucalata · 1 year

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title: and your eyes look like coming home (4/6)

pairing: buckingham; background steddie

rating: G

summary: in which a bad date, getting drunk at brunch and some perfume forces them to finally talk about their feelings.

(ao3) • part 1 • part 2 • part 3

Robin didn’t know how long she had been staring at Chrissy’s text but her eyes started to burn so it must have been a while. She blinked a few times, which made her eyes burn worse than before, but the sting of discomfort was worth it since now she was a hundred percent sure that Chrissy’s message was real.

She was still so focused on the message that she didn’t even realize when Eddie sat down next to her. She only became aware of his presence when he took one of her hands in his and tugged it to his chest.

He waited till she turned to look at him before he spoke, giving her his best puppy eyes. It didn’t work that well on her like it worked on Steve and the kids. “C’mon, Buckley! I beg of you, put me out of my misery. We’ve been listening to Taylor Swift for hours and I’ve even begun to learn some of her lyrics. That never happened before and I was roommates with Chrissy.”

“Yeah, okay, we can change,” she agreed, still somehow in a daze.

“My Spotify wrapped will- wait, really?”

“Yeah, I’m going home anyway. You can listen to whatever you want.”

Eddie’s smile widened and he leaned over, kissing her wetlh on the cheek. He then whooped as he got up from the couch, making his way towards his computer.

“Wait, what do you mean you’re going home?” Steve asked, frowning at her.

“I asked Chrissy to come get me.” Her reply made him frown deeper. “I am all healed from my heartbreak, don’t worry.”

Steve sighed and Robin was a little disappointed that she hadn’t been keeping count all day. Today he must have reached a new record.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Robs.”

It was Robin’s turn to frown but before she could say anything, Eddie dropped unceremoniously on Steve’s lap with a huge grin. Steve’s arms automatically wrapped around him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was for them and Robin hated them a little because of it.

“On the contrary, dear Stevie. It’s a great idea.”

Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his fiancé while Robin looked at him in confusion.

“You’re plotting something, aren’t you?”

Eddie bit his lip, hiding what would have probably been a satisfied grin, and shrugged. “Nope. I already finished plotting and the plan is even finished by now if Chrissy’s texting Robin.”

Robin looked down at the phone in her hands, the screen black but she could still see Chrissy’s last message ver clearly in her mind. Her heart thumped hopefully in her chest.

Steve sighed again. “What did you do?”

“I might have purposefully sent Chrissy on a bad date to make her realize that she needs to appreciate what she already has.” Eddie winked at Robin and she didn’t know if she should be thankful or worried.

“Eddie!”

“Y’know Chrissy is going to kill you, right?” Robin tried to sound just as outraged as Steve, but she might not have done a very good job because Eddie grinned at her.

Okay, so maybe deep down she was a little pleased to know that Chrissy’s date went badly, but she was mostly worried about her. In all the time they’ve known each other, Robin has never heard Chrissy talk about anyone romantically. She didn’t need a romantic partner to complete her, of course, but Robin had noticed in the past that whenever the group brought up relationships and love, Chrissy never talked and looked sort of uncomfortable. For a few months, Robin had even assumed that Chrissy was aromantic but then she accidentally heard Chrissy tell Eddie about someone she was pining over so Robin crossed out that idea.

“Hey, Eddie?”

Eddie turned his attention back on her from whatever argument he was having with Steve and hummed. She took it as a sign to go on.

“Why did Chrissy ask you to set her up on a blind date?”

Eddie didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took his time looking at Robin as if she should know the answer.

“She said she wanted to get over someone.”

“Jesus,” Steve muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if this was the worst conversation he ever witnessed.

Robin’s heart dropped to the floor.

So Chrissy was interested in someone. And she wanted to get over them. She should be a little bit happier since because of that she could have a chance, however small it was, to get Chrissy's attention. But all she could think about was how Chrissy never mentioned this mysterious person to her. Not even once. Despite the fact that Robin talked her ears off about her past crushes. Did she not trust Robin enough to talk to her about this? Was Robin not a good enough friend to Chrissy for her to feel comfortable enough to gush about her crush? Did Robin ever give her the impression that she didn’t care about Chrissy and whatever she wanted to talk about?

She felt like an awful friend thinking that Chrissy didn’t want to share this part of herself with Robin because, somehow, it felt like Robin’s fault.

“Great!” Steve’s voice startled her out of her thoughts and she looked up at him, only to be met with Eddie’s worried eyes. “You made her cry. Are you happy now?”

Robin brought her fingers to her cheeks and, yeah, they came away wet. Great. She really was in control of her feelings.

Someone put a hand on her knee and then Eddie’s face appeared in front of her. His eyes were huge and worried, but mostly confused. “Hey, why are you crying?”

“Because I’m an awful friend! I never knew Chrissy was interested in someone. She never wants to talk to me about stuff like this. Does she think I don’t care about her or her life? I want to listen to her if she wants to talk about stuff like that!”

“Okay, okay. I know, Robbie. And Chrissy knows it too.” When Robin glared at him, he didn't even flinch, instead he squeezed her knee. “I swear. You’re one of her best friends. It’s just… a delicate subject. She’ll talk to you about this when she’ll be ready.”

Robin felt Steve sit on the couch beside her before he gathered her in his arms and hugged her tight to his chest. “You’re an amazing friend, Robin. I know this. Eddie knows this. Chrissy knows it. But people are allowed to keep their secrets, if they want. Even to their best friends.”

“I know, but…”

“I know, I know. I promise you this has nothing to do with you. Like Eddie said, Chrissy will talk to you about this when she’ll be ready. Till then, let her know that you care about her and that you’re there for her.” When Robin didn’t reply, he squeezed her a little tighter. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she replied softly. Despite still being early in the evening, she was suddenly hit by how tired she actually felt. Going back home instead of sleeping here was sounding better by the second.

“Good. Now go wash your face. Chrissy is gonna be here soon and she’ll be worried if she sees you like this.”

Robin nodded and Steve let her get up from the couch. Eddie also moved away to let her pass, smiling up at her. She tried to smile back, but even that felt exhausting.

She took her empty glass from the coffee table with her with the intention to drink more water before going to the bathroom. Between the crying and the alcohol, she knew she would need it. However, once she stepped foot inside the kitchen, the first thing she saw was the pitcher of mimosa leftover frum brunch and it looked better than plain water.

She knew she shouldn’t drink more of it. She should sober up before Chrissy came to get her. However, she was tired enough to not care about bad decisions and still drunk to think that a few more glasses of mimosa would help her feel better.

Steve had always been better at managing her impulse control.

#ellie scrie #buckingham #steddie #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #fic: and your eyes look like coming home #i started writing this with the idea of having 2 parts and now i have 6 parts #i hope it ends soon #not bc i don't love this fic but bc i have other fics i want to write

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ciucalata · 1 year

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title: and your eyes look like coming home (2/6)

pairing: buckingham; background steddie

rating: G

summary: in which a bad date, getting drunk at brunch and some perfume forces them to finally talk about their feelings.

part 1

Robin heard a knock at her bedroom’s door but didn’t get immediately up to open it. The only person who it could be was Chrissy and Robin wasn’t ready to face her. Not after just getting her heartbroken first thing in the morning. But she also didn’t want to leave her hanging because despite the broken heart, Chrissy was one of her best friends and didn’t deserve the pouting when she did nothing wrong.

She sighed and sat up from where she threw herself on her bed an hour ago, but didn’t even reach her door before her phone buzzed with a new text. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest when she saw it was from Chrissy.

Hey, you probably fell asleep but I just wanted to let you know that I’m off for my date :)

Robin looked at the smiley face and groaned. How is it possible for someone to make everything so fucking cute?

Have fun with the boys at brunch!!

She sighed, throwing herself back on her bed to wallow in self-pity till Steve came to pick her up. She was not going to have fun with the boys.

“Whoa!” Eddie said when he saw Robin and Steve enter the boys’ kitchen. He looked Robin up and down with a raised eyebrow and a teasing grin. “Who died?”

Robin usually loved Eddie’s theatrics and 90% of the time she would even play along, but today was not one of them. Her heart wasn’t into it. It actually was still at home, under her pillows cuddling with Evie and trying not to cry.

“My heart.”

Eddie’s eyebrows were now both raised in surprise. He was still standing in the middle of the kitchen with the plates in his hands. Steve sighed behind Robin and finally moved, taking those plates and placing them on the table. Robin watched them as they smoothly held a conversation with only a few pointed looks and no words. Something that her and Steve were already pros at.

Something that her and Chrissy started doing too, lately.

Another pang of heartbreak shot through her chest and with a sigh, she made her way towards the table, taking the nearest chair to her. She didn’t even wait for the guys to finish their silent conversation before she reached for the raspberry mimosa pitcher and poured herself a glass.

“Uh, Buckley? Are you okay?”

Steve sighed again but said nothing. She already poured her heart out to him on the drive but she didn’t take into consideration that she’d have to do it again to Eddie.

She drank her full glass of mimosa before she replied. “Nope.”

Another silence. Another one of Steve’s sighs.

“Do you, maybe, want to talk about it?”

“No offense, Eddie, but you’re like the last person I want to talk to about this.” She poured herself another glass of mimosa. “Well,” she raised her glass and looked at it instead of either of the boys before drinking it all. There were pieces of raspberry seeds in the dark pink cocktail and Robin kind of hated them.This time she was waiting for Steve’s sigh and it almost made her smile. “More like second to last.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie whispered confused, probably to Steve rather than to Robin.

“She’s heartbroken because of Chrissy’s date.”

Robin’s jaw fell open in shock as both her and Eddie turned to look at Steve with equally surprised expressions for different reasons. She was surprised that her best friend, her platonic soulmate, her better half, would betray her like this. She didn’t know why Eddie was surprised.

“Chrissy?” Eddie turned to face Robin once again, still surprised. “You’re acting like this because of Chrissy’s date?”

Robin didn’t say anything but that seemed like an enough answer for Eddie because he shook his head while drinking his coffee.

“This is so dumb. I can’t believe this. Were we also like this?” The last part was directed to Steve who started laughing.

“Probably.”

“Damn. Remind me to buy Dustin and Max a gift next time we see them.”

Steve groaned. “Please don’t. They started acting like smug little shits once again ever since I proposed.”

Eddie chuckled and patted Steve’s hand that was resting on the table. Robin eyed their matching rings while sipping on her third mimosa. She watched them interact without saying anything both because she was already tipsy and because it was nice seeing her best friends happy and in love.

This thought, however, made her think of Chrissy and how she was probably going to be in love with someone else soon if her date went well, displaying their happiness and their love in front of Robin. She didn’t even realize she was crying till Steve gave her some tissues.

Okay, maybe she was drunker than she realized but she was heart broken and these mimosas were really good, so she didn’t care.

“Oh, babe.” Eddie said as he got up and came over to hug Robin to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Robin said, voice muffled by his shirt. “I’ll get over it eventually. Chrissy is my best friend and I want her to be happy. She deserves it. She deserves to be in love and have someone love her and date her and hug her and kiss her and make her the happiest girl on this planet. I just- I just thought that that person was gonna be me.”

Eddie’s arms tightened even more around her shoulders and she also felt Steve’s big warm hand rubbing her back. She was now full on sobbing and making a mess of Eddie’s shirt, which made her cry even more because she knew that was one of his favorite shirts and she just ruined it.

She was glad they weren’t trying to comfort her with words because no matter what they’d say right now, nothing could mend her broken heart.

Except Chrissy. Chrissy always made her feel better after a broken heart. She always said and did the right thing, helping Robin get back on her feet faster than she thought possible.

It was one of the reasons Robin fell in love with her. Not the fact that she always helped her, but the comfort and understanding with which she handled Robin. The bad jokes she’d tell just to make her crack a smile through the tears. The warm touch of her body as she hugged Robin on their couch. She couldn’t remember when she started craving that touch outside the moments of comfort.

It all happened while she thought she was crushing on Nancy a few months ago. One day she was looking forward to meeting Nancy for movies, and the next all she could think of while sitting in the cinema was Chrissy’s big smile whenever she saw Robin get home. Or how she’d rather sit on the floor while Chrissy braided her hair and talked about whatever romance novel she was reading at the moment. Or how Chrissy liked to eat gummy bears instead of popcorn while watching a movie. Or the silly voice she’d use to talk to Evie.

She couldn’t even remember the movie or how she got home that night because her mind was suddenly flooded with Chrissy and how much she missed her, despite having seen her before leaving for the cinema.

When she got home, she got flooded with Chrissy’s perfume when Evie welcomed her at the door. She didn’t even get to take off her shoes before Chrissy’s voice called for her. She appeared soon after, warm and smiling and so inviting, that all Robin could think of were two things: I love you so much and so this is what home feels like.

part 3

#ellie scrie #buckingham #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #i will most likely also post this on ao3 once it’s finished #i feel like there’s gonna be 2 more parts to this #anyway hope u’ll like it!!!

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ciucalata · 1 year

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title: and your eyes look like coming home (3/6)

pairing: buckingham; background steddie

rating: G

summary: in which a bad date, getting drunk at brunch and some perfume forces them to finally talk about their feelings.

part 1 - part 2

That was the last time Chrissy ever asked Eddie to set her up on a blind date because she was going to kill him. She was glad she decided to take the bus and not her car because now she had more time to calm down before she got home. She didn’t want Robin to see her like this because then she’d ask questions till Chrissy gave in and she did not want to talk about it. She didn’t even want to think about it but it went so bad that she was still seething from the audacity.

She should’ve known it was going to be a bad date from the moment her date hesitated to take the flower bouquet and immediately put it down after she thanked Chrissy. She didn’t even put it on the table beside her, but on the floor. On the fucking floor. People who didn’t appreciate those kind of gestures were a red flag in Chrissy’s eyes.

She let it slide, though, because she was nice.

The second red flag appeared when they started talking about college. Chrissy had told her the truth: she dropped out last year because of some personal problems and now she worked at a bookstore. It took her a while to be at peace with the decision and now she was happier than ever, but she didn’t even get to say that before her date interrupted her to say that she didn’t understand how people could give up that easily on things, that if maybe they worked harder, they would be able to do what they were supposed to do. Chrissy felt her blood freeze at her date’s words and it didn’t get better when she went on saying that of course Chrissy wasn’t included in that category because she was working now. If anything, it made things worse.

The last drop, however, had been when Chrissy had mentioned that she was bi and her date didn’t hide in time her scoff. Apparently she thought that bisexual people were just confused and that they needed to make up their mind about being straight or gay. “It would make life easier for everybody,” she had said smiling. Chrissy didn’t even have the power to talk, let alone fight back. She was too shocked.

After that, it had been easy to find more things that bothered Chrissy so she didn’t feel that guilty when she came up with an excuse to leave earlier. They didn’t even make plans to talk or meet up again.

She scoffed when she remembered their conversations once again. She took her phone out to give Eddie a piece of her mind but she barely managed to open the chat when the bus stopped. Sighing, she got on and stomped her way towards the first open seat she found. She had to wait till she got off to talk to Eddie because she hated using her phone on the bus. It made her too nauseous.

She did, however, quickly text Robin to let her know she was on her way home. It made her feel a bit better knowing she was going to see Robin soon.

The fact that Robin didn’t reply to her text only made her anxious when she got home and no one greeted her back. Not even Evie came to tangle between her legs.

“Robin?”

She wasn’t in the living room or in the kitchen and the bathroom door was open. When she checked her room, she only found Evie napping on the side of the bed Robin liked to sleep on. She tried not to let herself get too anxious because it’s not like she had to know Robin’s every move, but usually they let each other know if they left the house. She told herself that Robin only lost track of time while at brunch with the boys. It did make her worries disappear once she realized that that is most likely what happened. Any occasion between Steve and Robin would last weeks if they could get away with it.

Feeling better, she started on her usual Sunday evening routine. She managed to clean her room, did some laundry and even cleaned the bathroom when her alarm went off to remind her that it was 4:30 and she was supposed to go grocery shopping.

Now that she wasn’t moving, her mind went back to Robin. She wasn’t worried, but she did miss her a little. Sunday grocery shopping was something they always did together. After five minutes of wondering if she should call her or not, she gave in and did it.

“Steve speaking.”

Chrissy should’ve expected to hear Steve answering Robin’s phone, but it still surprised her a little. She was so looking forward to hearing Robin’s voice that she forgot that those two always answer each other's phones when together. It had once sparked a conversation between her and a drunk Eddie that if she loved him, they would do it too. Chrissy had laughed and told Eddie that she did love him like a brother, but they weren’t bonded by the trauma of having their work place go literally in flames when they were younger.

“Hey, Steve. I see Robin is still over at your place.”

“Chrissy! Yeah, yeah, she’s here, don’t worry. She's drunk from all the mimosa she drank but in good hands.”

“If those hands are Eddie’s, I can’t say that I’m less worried.”

Steve laughed and it made Chrissy smile too. It’s been years since Eddie and Steve got together, but Chrissy still relished in the fact that she finally had someone she could lovingly bully Eddie with.

“It's mostly my hands that are doing the taking care part. Eddie is trying and failing to make Robin listen to anything bayside Taylor Swift.”

Chrissy remembered all the times she forced Robin to sit with her and listen to Taylosr Swift, only for the other girl to groan and moan the entire time. So she was more than surprised at Steve’s words. “Taylor Swift?”

“Don’t ask me. I mean, you know I’m not complaining, but Eddie definitely is. He's literally on his knees right now in front of Robin begging her to put him out of his misery.”

The image came so vividly to Chrissy, she had to laugh. He used to do the same thing to her when they lived together.

“You have to fight against him. He deserves it!”

“We’re trying.”

Chrissy was surprised to realize that she was already in the supermarket’s parking lot, which was too full for a Sunday evening. Grocery shopping was going to be hell today.

“Kay, Steve, I have to let you go cause I need to find a parking spot. I’m assuming Robin is sleeping over at this point.”

Steve sighed and it made Chrissy frown but before she could question it, Steve replied, normal once again. “Yeah. I’ll let her know you called.”

“That'd be great. Thanks, Stevie. Later!”

“Later, Chris!”

Closing the call, Chrissy gave herself a minute of regret that she won’t be seeing Robin till tomorrow night, then she went back to looking for a parking spot.

She was halfway done grocery shopping when she texted Robin a short are you okay? message. She didn’t really expect an immediate reply since Steve answered Robin’s phone earlier, but as soon as she put her phone back in her pocket, it buzzed with a new text.

no i miss you :(

Chrissy almost dropped the cereal box she was holding when she saw Robin’s reply. Her heart stopped beating for a second from the surprise, then it started beating so fast she felt it in her fingertips. She should’ve expected this since Steve told her Robin was drunk, and she knew drunk Robin was more affectionate than sober Robin, but it still took her by surprise to see her own thoughts come from Robin.

i miss you too

grocery shopping is less interesting without you

noooo

you went without me

i love grocery shopping

Chrissy finally put the cereal box in the cart, but didn’t move. She only did it so she could use both hands to text Robin.

i know baby, but don’t worry i’m still getting your favorites

you are my favorite

Chrissy froze, her brain refusing to understand what was happening.

Sure, drunk Robin was more affectionate but this level of affection was reserved only for Steve, her best friend and self proclaimed platonic soulmate. The only explanation for Robin’s sudden affection was that Chrissy somehow finally reached the same position as Steve on Robin’s imaginary stair of affection.

It was a bittersweet thought, but she made peace a long time ago with the fact that she was going to accept whatever Robin would give her. And Chrissy loved being Robin’s friend so it didn’t feel like a sacrifice to put her romantic feelings aside so that they could be in each other’s lives.

She was still frozen when Robin sent her a new text.

i want to go home

can you come get me please?

Chrissy looked and looked at the new message all while it felt like her heart was growing till it felt too big for her chest. Knowing that Robin also thought of their place as home made her feel ecstatic.

Sure, when she lived with Eddie it also felt like home to Chrissy but more like in the way siblings share the same home, with good times and bad times and everything in-between, but also knowing that eventually it’ll come to a bittersweet end. Her home with Robin didn’t feel like that. Or at least she hoped and wished that it wasn’t like that because for her, in the two years that they’ve lived together, Robin had become her forever home. Her safe place. Her comfort. A place filled with understanding and warmth and love that she’d always cherish.

of course! let me finish shopping and i’ll be there in 20 minutes

you’re my favorite too by the way :)

#ellie scrie #buckingham #robin bucley #chrissy cunningham #i was supposed to post this days ago #but i forgot #anyway here it is one last part and it’ll be done!!

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ciucalata · 1 year

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title: whisper a dangerous secret (to someone you care about) (2/?)

pairings: steddie

rating: T

summary: Steve is born with his whole life already planned out for him: learn how to be a proper future king, become strong and smart and clever enough to find allies in enemies, and then, when his father dies, take on the crown. The only problem is that Steve sucks at his duties as a prince, which put him in a less than favorable light in the people's eyes. He's not that fond of his title either, so there's not much he can do. But then a dragon asks to kidnap him and he doesn't blink an eye before he agrees.

He doesn't except to find what he wished for his entire life because of it.

Steve considers himself a patient person. He has to be if in the future he wants to survive the council meetings as a king. He sees the way his father loses his temper too many times at these meetings, which makes the council members resent him for not handling official affairs better. Steve is already disliked enough by his people, he doesn’t know if he can change how they view him, but he will try to make them understand that he is nothing like his father.

Something about the dragon though makes him impatient. He wants to go look for it again the same morning he finds the clean brown bag, but Robin talks him down. He has lessons to attend and he can’t make his parents any more annoyed than they already are.

He doesn’t even have enough patience to pretend to pay attention to his classes today. Luckily, his apparent disinterest makes his teacher dismiss him earlier from their lessons.

“Very well, Your Highness,” his foreign language teacher says as she stands up, gathering her things. Steve looks up at her, startled from where he’s been staring - admittedly lost since he was thinking about everything but verb conjugation - at his books. “I think we can end our lesson for today. I can see that you’ve been… working harder than usual today.” That’s a lie and they both know it. “Just have those verbs memorized for the next lesson.”

Steve still doesn’t understand what is happening so it takes him longer than it should to also stand up and shake the hand the teacher has put between them. She barely looks at Steve’s chair that falls on its back in his urgency to get up. Once they shake hands, she just nods and leaves.

Steve is glad that his parents decided to hire a foreigner to teach him languages because she doesn’t care that he is a prince and she treats him like she would treat any other student. She could very easily get into trouble for treating him like this, but Steve doesn’t care. It’s actually one of the reasons he likes her and tries to actually make an effort in her classes. Well, he usually does.

“Today’s lesson was actually kind of hard,” Robin says as she lifts Steve’s chair and sits on the chair beside him. Steve sits back down too.

Another reason Steve likes his language teacher is because she also lets Robin attend her lessons and doesn’t care if Robin pays more attention than her actual student. If anything, she seems to enjoy whenever Robin actually asks her something, smiling and thanking her for the great question. Robin just blushes and goes back to pretending as if she hasn’t been paying attention to the lesson all day.

“Here,” he says as he slides his book in front of her. While she nods and hums and mutters the new words to herself, Steve sets his chin in his hand before he turns his attention towards the tall windows that show the forest. He has never been more aware of them than today when he was trying not to look outside every two seconds.

(continue reading on ao3)

#ellie scrie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dragon au #fic: whisper a dangerous secret

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ciucalata · 1 year

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telling myself repeatedly with tears in my eyes “it doesn’t have to be perfect it just has to be written you can edit later it doesn’t have to be perfect it just has to be written you can edit later it doesn’t have to be perfect it just has to be written you can edit later” whenever i’m blocked while writing

#ellie vb #ellie scrie #i guess #but really i spend hours looking at the document bc i’m scared of writing something wrong #which is silly!!! bc there is no wrong while writing #u wouldn’t believe the number of times i’ve reread mu own stuff fhat I thought was wrong only to fall in love with it #and if a part doesn’t flow correctly or hasn’t the right vibe i can just cut it and put in a different doc #for recycling #another thing u wouldn’t believe is the number of times i was saved bc i didn’t delete entire scenes already written #but just moved them somewhere else

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ciucalata · 4 years

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Martin puts down the tea cup and takes a step back, but he doesn’t leave the office. Instead, he takes whatever time he has until Jon notices him to look at him.

He cocks his head to the side, squinting as he does that. Somehow, lately, Jon seems more… he refuses to use the word attractive when thinking about his boss, so he settles on approachable. Yeah, that sounds right. Lately, Jon seems more approachable.

Objectively speaking, Jon has alway been approachable, but his harsh personality and the disagreeable looks he often gave Martin when he thought he wasn’t paying attention made Martin want to stay away as much as possible from him.

But things changed, as they do more often than not, and now Martin wants to stay away from Jon as little as possible. He doesn’t want to think too much about this. He is scared about what he’ll find out if he does and that’s a whole nother can of…

Nope, bad analogy. Really bad analogy.

Can of… peaches? Martin feels the nausea coming up again just thinking about it. That’s just as bad as the previous one.

“Martin?” Jon’s voice brings him out of the spiral of his own thoughts and Martin snaps his attention back at him. “Do you need something?”

“Umm, no. Just brought you some tea.”

Jon looks at the cup that Martin indicated as if it’s the last thing he expected to see on his desk. Martin smiles thoughtlessly at that.

“Anything else?” Jon asks, taking the cup and turning back to his work.

“No,” Martin says uselessly since Jon probably already forgot he was there. He turns on his heels, ready to leave, when Jon’s puzzled voice stops him.

“What is this?”

Martin turns to look back at him, just as Jon looks up from his cup to him.

“Oh! That’s chamomile tea.”

“Chamomile?” Jon repeats, a little incredulous and Martin nods. “I didn’t know we had anything else beside black tea in the office pantry.” He takes another tentative taste and his frown lessens so he must like it.

It’s the satisfied feeling that settles deep inside of Martin at seeing that which makes him say, “Oh, we didn’t actually. I brought some from my place.” As soon as he finishes talking, Martin wants to take back everything.

“Why would you do that?” Jon asks, genuinely confused.

Martin pauses for a few moments, wondering if he should just say the truth or come up with something. However the longer he remains silent, the more suspicious it becomes and Martin just throws everything out all at once, “Well, you’re always frowning or rubbing at your forehead after reading the statements, and from the tasks you give me afterwards I can imagine they’re not that pleasant. Which, considering where we work shouldn’t be surprising but God knows I often get headaches once I get home from work, so I figured you must have them too? And chamomile tea actually helps me calm down before I got to bed. I don’t know if it will help you too, but I thought it might be worth a try. Of course, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t-“

“Martin, you’re rambling,” Jon interrupts him. His voice is back to being annoyed and he is frowning at Martin as if all this new information is giving him a headache now. Guess some things don’t change after all.

Martin shuts up instantly and he feels his cheeks burning from embarrassment, so he just nods and turns around to leave. But before he could open the door, he hears Jon say a soft “Thank you,” as if he were too worried that Martin might actually hear him. It brings an unexpected smile on Martin’s face, but he doesn’t reply.

He leaves the office, as quiet as he got in, but with a lightness in him that wasn’t before.

#tma #jonmartin #the magnus archives #jonmartin fic #ellie scrie #this probably takes place during s2??#also this is my first time writing them so i hope i did good jsbxjs #but either way THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THEM AND I LOVE IT #this one is for my friend kimmie who has thoughts about tea in tma but won’t share them with me #anyway i could keep on rambling here but no one cares lmao #ENJOY!!!

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ciucalata · 5 years

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you know how kids sometimes will wear their mom’s clothes and make up?? Well, Warlock did that, but with Nanny Ashtoreth’s stuff

Like one day, Nanny Ashtoreth can’t find young Warlock anywhere in the house and the gardener already comfirmed that he hasn’t seen the boy outside yet.

And she isn’t worried. No. Nope. Not at all. Demons aren’t worried about kids even if they are the Antichrist.

She already checked the kitchen, and the small library, and Mrs. Dowling office, and every single bathroom, and his room three times. She even looked under the bed, in the closet, among the stuffed toys. Nothing. She wants to check the parents’ room since they aren’t home, but Warlock hasn’t set foot there ever since she came around. She knows how he feels about that room, even if it was never explained in words, and she knows he would never hide there.

With a sigh, she takes off her sunglasses and rubs her eyes, ignoring the mascara and the eye shadow and eyeliner she has on. A ruined make up is the least of her worries now. Her jacket is getting kind of uncomfortable, though. She has been running all morning around the house and through the garden looking for the boy. Her heels, although not as tall as she used to wear, are killing her too.

She looks at the smudges of make up on her hand and, with another sigh she decides to change into something more comfortable and look after the kid again later. He will show up sooner or later. He has to. Preferably sooner rather than later.

As soon as she steps inside her room, she kicks off her shoes and unbuttons her jacket before she throws it somewhere. The jacket knows better than to fall on the floor, or in a disorganized mess on the bed. Instead, it finds itself settling on the back of a chair, neatly folded and wrinkle free. Nanny Ashtoreth pays it no mind, though. She is already opening the doors to her closet, wondering if she has anything comfortable enough for running aroung a masion looking for a six years old child.

However, she doesn’t get far with that thought because once the doors are open, a heap of clothes tumble at her feet with a muffled “Ouch!”.

Nanny ashtoreth blinks several times at it. “Warlock?” she tries, lowering herself over the clothes, her heart in her throat for some reason. She doesn’t pray, but she does hope and wish. “Is that you, love?”

“Nanny!” comes his voice from within the pile of clothes. There is some visible struggle from his part as he is trying to find a free way out and Nanny Ashtoreth would have helped, really, but she is still too dumbfounded to even blink. Eventually Warlock gets his freedom and it’s only the sight of his face and the mess he made of it that makes Ashtoreth function again.

“You little-!” she begins but doesn’t bother to finish. Instead, she scoops him in her arms, clothes and mess and all, and looks at him disapprovingly. “Is this where you have been hiding? I’ve been looking all over for you, you little devil! Nearly went out of my mind with worry. Do you know in how much trouble you are, young boy? A lot! Your paren-!”

She only stop talking when Warlock puts his hands - his really sticky and warm hands - on her face. They stare at each other in silence for a while and only then does Ashtoreth really see the smudged make up that is on his little face.

“Nanny,” Warlock says in a very serious voice. “I got bored!”

“I see,” she says slowly. Her anger already evaporating but she doesn’t have enough energy to hold onto it anymore. She sighs and moves towards the bed to sit down. Warlock sits on her lap, his hands staying glued on her face. “And why didn’t you come play with me?”

“I did,” he says. “But you weren’t here so I decided to wait for you here.”

Nanny Ashtoreth nods, not really hearing the words. She is too preoccupied with the way too pink cheeks that either have on too much blush, or that’s one of her lipsticks. At least he got the eye liner right... somehow, but there’s so much of it that he looks like a panda. And there’s eye shadow everywhere on his face and hair. She didn’t even know she owened the ones that has glitter in it, but apparently she doesn’t anymore since Warlock used all of it on himself. And there are three different shades of lipstick on his face, all in the genral area of his mouth and on his teeth. She really hopes he didn’t eat any of them again.

“And what’s all this?” she asks, already knowing the answer. He also wears a pair of her earrings, but since he doesn’t have holes, he hung them on top of hid ears. What she can’t understand is what he is wearing. It is obviously black and long, but Warlock is still little so any of her clothes would be big for him.

When Warlock doesn’t answer, she looks up at him again only to be met with a confused frown. She shouldn’t find it this adorable, really. This is the Antichrist and she is a demon. Nothing about this should be adorable and yet, it is. And also way too funny.

“Your face, darling.”

“Ah!”

She smiles. “Yes. What happened to your face?”

“Well, I was bored,” he says again, as if it should be answer enough. Ashtoreth supposes it is.

#good omens #warlock #nanny ashtoreth #ellie scrie #idk how this turned into a ficlet #but damn i love it

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