#Gih Writes

[the-scooby-gang]

Don't you love it when you are writing something on Tumblr for a good half hour only for it to bug on you and you lose an entire page worth of writing for no reason at all???? and by love it i mean loath it with all my being

#gih says #this hellsite is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE #all that writing just GONE #god im going to sleep after that

[dearlawdimasimp]

A/n: ITS FINALLY HERE FELLAS!! CHAPTER ONE IS PUBLISHED BABEYYYY- now things msy get confusing as this was not beta read, i enjoyed writting this and will probably enjoy writting the upcoming chaps sorry i havent written any of them but this and chap two😭 this chap experienced a major re-write, as well as the chap two, so shit might get crazy if it did just ignore it and remember that you are a badass, You tried to help with your diamond hands but they're sharper than a knife, now you're Aimed to Kill (direct qoute from the song the title of this pic is inspired from, Aimed to Kill by Jade LeMac :>) now ONTO THE FIC-

As the sun meets the moon

Aimed to Kill - Chapter 1

Parings: Filo!Reader x Ynaguinid(platonic); eventual Khonshu x Filo!reader; eventual Marc/Steven/Jake x Filo!reader

Chapter Summary: The conceiving of the Poison Warrior, known by an alias made by the media and the locals as Python and how they met the Moon and His Knight.

Warnings: grammar, swearing, NOT beta read, oc!reader, mentions of blood and gore, intrusive thoughts(if i missed any pls let me know in the comments! ^-^)

As you near the end of your college years, your urge, this thirst for blood, is becoming a little too hard to ignore. Ever since you had that weird dream of being blessed by a diwata after reading an old book you found in your house attic, the want to hold something sharp and stab the person who's going to step even just a little bit of their toe across the line is so concerningly high.

And at the dawn of the day after your graduation, you did just that. 

You were somehow holding a kampilan in your hand and stabbed the person trying to mug you. Horror was in your eyes as blood spilled from your assailant's- no, victim's lips.

And a female disembodied voice, praised you and announced, "Ikaw na ang permamente nakong Lasong Sundalo, sukad karon hangtod sa kuhaon ka sa kamatayon. Ikaw ang mo-protekta sa mga inosinteng tawo nga na-damay sa mga gubat, Ikaw ang mag-dala sa akong ka-isug, sa akong kusog, ug sa akong lason."'You have now become my Poison Warrior, from here on until death takes you. You are the protector of the innocents who have been affected by wars, you carry my wrath, my strength and my poison.' 

And you were wrapped by a vest and pants in cloths worth and reserved for Datus* that is drenched in red, its linings and the sun on the center split in the middle is weaved in gold, a cobra stuck in a pose that is ready to strike emblems itself on the back of the vest, a skin tone garment underneath the vest materializes as a g-string flows from your waist down to your knees on top of your pants. Something engulfs itself on your head, you look at the puddle of water and see that your head looked like a snake swallowed your head whole as the jaws of a cobra's skull had clamped down on your head. 

You were stupefied. All of this was just happening after a good graduation party. You were certain you've been drugged by some one hell of a narcotic but the faint red stain as you had scrubbed your palms raw on a nearby well after the incident that you found on your hands later that morning said otherwise.  

You had thought all of it was just some weird dream with some mad coincidence, but here you are, in a dark alley, slicing a man's back who nearly assaulted a lone man who had just walked from work to home, with the same kampilan you held that night. After severe training from your ancestors. Three years later.

It was one hell of a graduation celebration now that you look back to it.

The man falls down with a heavy thud, a pool of his red substance starts to form around his lifeless body. The man who you just saved was terrified, both at the situation and you. You calm him down, as gently as you could, "It's okay sir, dili tika hilabtan.. pwede naka mo uli."'I won't hurt you….you can go home now.'

"I-Ikaw tong gih-gihanlag Python sa?"'You're that person named Python, aren't you?' 

You bob your head once, his breathing becoming even as seconds pass by. You see his adam's apple move up and down as he swallows, his eyes searching for your face but knowing you have a glamour that allows a shadow to be casted on half of your face you are certain that he won't be able to identify you. 

"S-salamat kaayo!" He thanks you and slowly walks away from the wall he had tried to shrink back to as he was being assaulted. 

You give him a smile, "Walay problema."'No problem.'

You watch him walk away from you, his gait a little wobbly after being mugged and then saved by a vigilante that the media had named Python. 

"Good job." You hear the voice of your goddess to your right, you turn your attention to the other end of the dark alley and see her. Ynaguinid. Clad in her traditional clothing, nearly identical to yours and donning the same headdress as yours emerges from the shadows. Her gold snake armlets and bib necklace glints under the waning moon.

You preen under the praise and bow your head, thanking her for her kind words. "You gotta admit though, that was kinda easy." You jest, glancing over to the dead man and getting a glimpse of your pakwar* becoming longer until it slightly pools on the ground, signifying your mourning for the dead man. He may have been bad, doesn't mean you won't mourn for his death. Same as to every person you have killed before.

"Ay pag-hambog diha, n/n."'Don't get ahead of yourself, n/n.' You hear her groan playfully, in which you reply with a chuckle. 

"Dali na, ma-abot na niya tong mga gago na mga pulis.." 'Come on, those stupid police officers might arrive soon..' Ynaguinid grumbles beside you and gently pulls you away from the corpse. 

Ever since you tugged on that tiny sliver of thread connecting you to the deity, becoming her warrior, you had formed this sort of mother-daughter bestfriend-like bond to Ynaguinid. Your lame jokes and comments was at first gained an awkward silence and laugh but as time passed by, Yna became closer to you and finally understood your humor as well as accepting and adapting to your personality. Thus, resulting to this mother-daughter relationship, which was further strengthened after that accident.

You hum and let her guide you to where you were needed. Killing all those people to keep the nights in Cebu as safe as possible.

There are also times you do your own raids. Whispers and gossips in the night, and with the help of Mayari, allows you to get to the location of drug cartels, illegal imports and exports of any kinds, house of kidnappers and many other bases of criminals, whether low-life or high-grade. You ambush them all with only your kampilan, your kris dagger, a pair of arnis and kalasag. 

You always come out bloody, bruised and wounded, but you are the last person standing.

Your deity always heals you, although it takes time as it wasn't her specialty so she needs some help from other deities, she always heals you after every fight.

And when your kills reach to a hundred, you have to travel to Luzon to get tattooed by an elder of a tribe in Kalinga, Apo Whang-Od, and your tattoos grow larger in amount year by year that your both legs had been inked from your ankle to the top of your thigh.

Your first tattoos were on the top of your ankle, symbolizing your first kills, on your lower face with a cobra jaw motif to symbolize your status as a warrior, and on your dominant arm with a circling snake from your shoulder down to your upper forearm with a sun and a flower inside it on the middle of your upper bicep area symbolizing your connection with the Poison goddess of the Philippines of the Visayan Region.

Boy was that experience something.

After a productive night, you always sit on a ledge of a rooftop where you can clearly see the glory of the rising sun. Its warm rays touching your skin reminds you of another night of successful elimination of the scums of the earth. 

And nights of killing like a maniac.

Oh no not now- you groan and immediately stand up. Ynaguinid casting you a worried glance, probably hearing the voice too. She places a hand on your shoulder and cups your face on the other, gently moving your head to meet her reassuring gaze. You nod, having known what was spoken through her mahogany eyes and take deep breaths.

Later that early morning, you checked your emails as you took your breakfast. The radio anchor going off about the summary of last night's spree of Python. 

"Niya, kamusta imo application sa London?"'How's your application in London, hm?' Manang Lita, a distant cousin of your mother from your grandfather's side, inquires as she prepares lunch as it was already 11 am. The sweet, funny yet still stern woman had taken you under her wing after the accident, after that night. 

The night when your own family, their blood flowing through your veins, kicked you out and disowned you in front of your neighbors.

"Uy!.." The old woman calls your attention, maybe not taking your unresponsiveness lightly, with a small nudge on your shoulder, as she walks past you to get to the kitchen. You blink and inhale, taking a sip of your coffee and glance up at Manang Lita when she comes back to the table. She gives you a look that says 'you're thinking about that again, aren't you?', which you looked away from and sigh dejectedly. 

The older woman tuts and shakes her head, "Hay nako, wala na jud kay mabuhat atu nila, inday."'Oh, my dear, you cannot do anything about it now.' 

"Kabalo ko, manaaang.."'I know, manaaang*…' You whine as you take a bite of your pandesal*, looking back to your phone. She was about to give you another long lecture when you noticed an email with a distinct email address, your eyes widened in realization and this made Manang Lita stop talking, asking you what it is. 

"IT'S FROM LONDON!!" You yelled and dropped your bread on the table as you scrambled to open the email in excitement, your mother figure sharing the same sentiment goes behind you and takes her glasses from the collar of her daster. 

You read the email out loud, and when the sentence, "We welcome you with open arms-" you two shrieked in joy, she shakes your form and hugged you from behind, already congratulating you before you have even finished reading. And when you did, she did not hesitate to yell out your distant cousin's name to share the news. 

A small celebration was held that day before you packed your stuff, Ynaguinid visiting you as were and had asked what the preparation was for. 

"I got accepted in London!!" You cheered with a small jump, "My tickets have been bought and all I needed to do was to give my ID and show this email every time-" "Mo-adtu jud ka?" 'You're really going there?'

You halt in zipping up your luggage. Ynaguinid was really not comfortable with you leaving the country because who will protect the Cebuanos at night now that you're in another country? But going to places out of the country has been your goal ever since you graduated, and London just accepted your application as a tour guide for a museum that stores lots of Philippine historical artifacts. 

Sure, the UK was at the middle of your list on where to go, but it is the first email you've received after months of waiting ever since you've sent your application to multiple countries with the same job. 

"Yes, Yna.. mo-adtu jud ko.." 'I am really going there..' You continue to zip the luggage and re-checked everything, not meeting the deity's eye. 

You hear her sigh, the small jingles of jewelry indicate her walking to you before you see her in your peripheral vision sitting on your bed. "Wala man ko nasuko langga.. ang ako lang kay.. imo jud dad-on ang imong pagka-sundalo nako ug protektahan ang mga langyaw?"'I am not mad, my child, it's just…you would really bring your job as a warrior of mine and protect foreigners?' You hear her grimace at the thought, and you just silently grumble. 

"Nag-sturya nata ani, Yna.." 'We've talked about this, Yna..' You mumble as you walk over to the boxes you had packed before packing your clothes and started to label them according to its contents.

Small talk was exchanged, an agreement was the conclusion. That no matter what, you'll have to have to come back to the Philippines every start of a new year. The war goddess had at first wanted it to be monthly but you reminded her that you don't have a teleportation ability and it will be very tiring on your end, so she settled with your suggestion to an annual home visit. 

When you got to the airport, teary goodbyes and long hugs were reciprocated, assurances of video calls were made before you get to start the process of your traveling papers. Grueling hours passed before you were able to settle on the seat you were assigned to in the plane.

•

A month had already passed by since you arrived in London. You were able to settle in a flat with a reasonable price and a little close to the museum you are working at, saving you from traveling expenses. 

A month has also passed ever since you started your work as a foreign vigilante of the city. Your local news anchor from Cebu immediately noticing your absence after you left the country made you feel a little special that they were able to catch on as soon as you flew abroad. 

A week has passed though, since you first encountered the London vigilante. He was like you, a manifestation of a deity's power on Earth. And also meeting the deity himself.

He was the Moon's Knight. The Fist of Vengeance of the Moon God Khonshu, The God of Vengeance, Healing and Protector of the Travelers of the Night of the Egyptian Pantheon.

You were scouting a dingy area of the city that night, Mayari still communicating to you whenever the moon is high up on the night sky and illuminating its reflected natural light on the artificially lighted city. She had gathered that there was a group of mobsters housing an old building in the area. Leading you into ambushing the place. You had just stabbed a man on his lower back and used him as a human shield from his firing comrades when you heard daggers slice through the air, effectively killing the firing goons. 

Multiple heavy thuds echoed through the building as its settlers took their last breaths. 

You drop your human shield and look up at where you had seen the daggers come from. 

And there he stood, with all his gauzed glory and glowing white eyes under his hood, the Moon Knight.

He jumped down the ledge with a flare of his crescent cape and landed on the ground same as you. You'd be lying if that didn't look badass. You were then able to notice the heavy contrast of your themes. You had sun emblems both on your skin and on your costume while he had the moon as his motif for his.

"Well, I wasn't expecting an eclipse in this new moon but here we are." You quipped as he passed by you, "Get it? 'cuz, you're the moon, and I kinda have suns on my costume-" Your explanation of the joke was cut off by a loud, timbre of a deep voice,

"A warrior from another land?" 

You turn your head to the source and what you saw made you question your perception of reality…As well as your sexuality because what the fuck why is a literal lanky mummified bird skull of a head hot-

"Not that I am flauting my foreigner status but uh yeah, I'm from another land." You responded to the being who disappeared from sitting on the ledge of the opposite building. Amputa-

"You can see and hear him?" The hooded vigilante finally said a word to you, and gestures to the being you had just seen meters away now appear a few feet on your side, after he retrieved his, also crecent shaped, daggers..knives? plates??

"Yeah…" you confirmed with a nod, and face the two gauzed beings. From what you are seeing they are Egyptian themed so the spirit could be an Egyptian deity? Oh wait, bird head, moon, egyptian…this is, this is Khonshu!- 

"Yo-" "God of the Moon.." 

Your question was stopped when Ynaguinid appears on your side, making you jump at her sudden appearance.

"Pasidan-e sad ko sunod po.." 'A little warning next time please..' You mumble as sheath your sword to your side. The goddess only gives a 'really?' look at your comment and shook her head a little.

"Goddess of War…and Poison. A friend of Mayari's, if I am not mistaken?" 

You and the hooded fella could only watch the interaction between the deities, not wanting to interfere with whatever businesses they had with each other. But you could not help yourself and join the conversation, 

"Deities with the same title, even from another pantheons, know each other?" You asked them, looking back and forth from Khonshu to Yna with a slightly ajarred mouth, the revelation of information has left you in awe.

"Yes, warrior, we do." Was the court reply of the big being. Yna nods to answer your question.

"If I may ask though, from which pantheon are you, ma'am?" The hooded fella asks your deity, to which Ynaguinid answers with a proud, "Philippine Pantheon, Visayan Region, langyaw."

"Technically, kita ang langyaw dire dapita-" 'we're the foreigners in this place-' You shut your mouth after seeing the glare Yna sent your way and glanced every where but her form.

"And meet my Posion Warrior." She introduces you as she place her arm around your back. You closed your feet and raised your fist to your chest, and bowed to the two, a greeting you've been taught to do after being introduced.

"This is my Moon Knight, my fist of vengeance." The tall being motions to the hooded fella with his hands, the introduced fella bows his head in acknowledgement. You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'not given a script to rehearse' or something, you chuckle silently. 

After the formal introductions, the deities delved into a deeper conversation. About alliances. About who's part of the city is who's. What will become of the arrangement of this now that there two avatars/warriors of the city.

Meanwhile you're still in the shock stage that there are actually deities from other pantheons and are also utilizing humans to be their extension of power.

Moon Knight however, as much as he displays, is neutral on the whole ordeal. The light of his eyes looks a bit bored of the conversation, but then widens a bit when Khonshu and Ynaguinid came up with an alliance, that you'll be working side-by-side with the Moon's Knight as a symbol of collaboration of pantheons and a start of a new path for avatars and warriors alike.

That night was the start of your journey as a vigilante of London with the Moon Knight alongside you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Pakwar = the back flap of the g-sting

*Manang = what we call our elderly who are female

*Datus/Datu = a title which denotes the rulers (variously described in historical accounts as chiefs, sovereign princes, and monarchs) of numerous indigenous peoples throughout the Philippine archipelago. (Wikipedia)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WOOHHH hopefully you guys enjoyed what i have enstored for y'all and i'll probably edit this this morning bc sht its already 3 am HAHAHHAAHHAHA

Anyways, i am open for construcrive criticism! feel free to comment them and hope you guys have a great day/night!!! thank you for reading chap 1!💞

PSPSPSPSPS BESTIE @m4nd0l0r

#G•writes #atk #aimed to kill #atk series #khonshu x reader #khonshu x filipino!reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x filipino!reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x filipino!reader #moon knight x filipino!reader #moon knight x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x filipino reader #marvel x filipino reader #filipino reader #oc!reader #philippine mythology #philippines #mythology #ynaguinid #khonshu

[llapdog]

the OFFICIAL god is home retrospective

well, i was gonna make this an update to the website, and maybe i will, or maybe ill just link it on the last page. but i have an account on tumblr already, and ive tried to keep godishome posting to a minimum. so this is just a little post (possibly long. i havent written it yet, after all.) (update: it's long.) about god is home, the process of making it, my thoughts on it at this point in my life, and what i might (heavy on that might!) be working on next. put under a read more, for your sake.

happy 200 notes, god is home.

the first thing i should say is the typical "artist gets any amount of success" thing: i am absolutely shocked by the reception god is home got.

ive been shocked. i dont think its undeserved (im actually pretty up my own ass about my own work, which i refuse to feel shame or apologize for) but it is still unexpected; as my first foray into proper Web Art territory, it really shouldn't have done that well. i mean, 200 notes isn't breaking any grounds, honestly, but it is still kind of incredible for what a small-scale project is. it will, i theorize, reach higher points, too. i suspect one day someone will find it again through pure chance, and it will get another little burst of reblogs, as tends to happen on this website. and thatll be surprising, and, most likely, embarrassing. but i digress.

while i've certainly implied it, i don't think i've ever explicitly stated that god is home is not technically my first online art project. god is home comes from a litany of personal projects. ARG concepts that never went anywhere, personal sites for the perusal of my friends made in an afternoon, countless ideas and concepts shared between discord dms and voice calls. but it is, uniquely, the only one of my works that has been shared publicly, not counting the old ARG that my once-friend-now-enemy created that i caused the spiraling death of. not saying which one, but i doubt anyone would remember it if i did.

that's to say nothing of the countless writing projects i've started and never finished. shoutout to all the half-baked haunted house manuscripts i got several chapters into before giving up on. your memory lives on in my singular success, and your influence will be felt for as long as i am creating.

that influence already lives, though. many of the ideas of unfinished projects crystalized in the story of god is home: haunted houses (and really houses in general, my obsession with them as a literal device so intense that it made me realize i am probably autistic), frayed relationships, failed parenting, living spaces, and the search for God where He cannot be. i've been obsessed with many of these ideas for as long as i can remember, and as such i have been unable to create anything unrelated to them until i could say with certainly that i had something to show for it, some published expression of my love for these themes.

god is home, therefore, has set me free. at least a little bit. i have felt legitimately tied to the narrative of a haunted house, inexplicably connected to it in a way that has felt inescapable. of course, gih does not take that haunting literally, but i feel it's felt in the corners, most prominently in the ending sequence. it is a house haunted by its inhabitants, by their relationship, and, of course, by God, or the lack thereof.

this isn't to say i'm done with haunted houses. i wouldn't want to be. i couldn't be. but i am at least willing to write about something else, now.

but for as personal as god is home is, its also not made for me. i believe i talked about this briefly in the actual website, but i made this with and for my friends. i was helped explicitly by gerry (@graveyardcat7, shoutouts) who did the art, and who also was the only one who "playtested" this thing before i showed it to the larger friend group. that group, those three people (really four, counting myself), are who this was made for. it wasn't for you, unless you're one of them. my audience is nearly singular.

that has made public reception to this both baffling, wonderful, and difficult. i certainly don't want to act like i'm tortured because people (checks notes) liked the thing i made, but it is certainly strange to see something so personal, almost private be largely taken as a piece of Relatable Media. it's meaningful, of course, indescribably so. theres a kind of beauty i didn't expect to knowing people found themselves in an expression of my own thoughts. to everyone who has expressed the importance of this story to them, i thank you.

what makes it even more baffling is that i fully expected myself to be portraying many aspects of this story incorrectly. while it is incredibly personal, it certainly isn't autobiographical. i don't particularly want to go into how, exactly, the story lines up with my life, but i think the most obvious and important is that i actually have very little personal experience with christianity. im not a stranger to it; i have vague memories of going to church, of knowing i was wrong in the eyes of god, in being vaguely uncomfortable with the visages of jesus' crucifixion.

but i am, ultimately, agnostic. an agnostic christian, maybe, but my family barely even celebrates christmas. i was also raised by an explicit atheist for the vast majority of my life, my father leaving the church when i was young. and my parents are some of the most supportive people in my life. they knew i was a girl when i was a kid, and they did everything in their power to make my life comfortable as a trans person (including, notably, talking to the organizers of a pre-school event to try and convince them to let me be tinkerbell instead of peter pan.)

my mother is christian, but she never forced it upon me. my religion was always a choice. and yet, somehow, christianity still got its claws in me, and i still fear hell. funny how that works. chalk it up to america in general, maybe.

a lot of the positive feedback ive received has been about its portrayal of christianity and the struggles of growing up in and around the church. so im glad i got that right. it is something i care about rather deeply, and i worried i had been portraying it borderline fetishisticly, despite my efforts to make it fair.

i worried a lot about what i was portraying, actually. theres this line i had to establish that i wasnt talking out my ass about this stuff, while still not wanting people to speculate about who i am, what my traumas are. i still dont want you speculating, by the way. it happens without meaning to, of course, but... you know. im a person, and to most of you, a stranger.

(shoutout to innuendo studio's and errant signal's videos on the beginners guide. made me fear being analyzed for all time. i watched them both as a kid.)

it's funny, but i feel like, in some aspects, god is home is more representative of the media that shaped me than the events in my life that shaped me. the most obvious inspirations are likely the indie web itself, deltarune, komaedalovemail, and, of course, hypnospace outlaw, a game that has shaped me deeper than i can really express. but the inspirations are innumerable; serial experiments lain probably shaped more of this project than you would ever guess (a fact i only realized after i started playing the psx game this week, hilariously), the album tallahassee by the mountain goats, the fucking chezzkids website, house of leaves, creepypasta, tabletop roleplaying games i played with my friends, jacob geller (particularly his haunted house analysis), several dozen modern art pieces, meow wolf the art collective, the goddamn aids crisis. (the aids crisis isnt media, but still, i can't exactly claim it as personal experience.) there's more, i know there's more, but it's escaping me.

it's an aggregation of things half-remembered. all art is. yet, i still feel some masturbatory urge to catalogue those inspirations. it is, i suspect, a very human urge.

but, ultimately, all of this is just pretext. i should probably get on with actually talking about making the damn thing. i made god is home in a week, largely at a job as a receptionist in a tax office. the work was seasonal, my coworkers deeply religious in the same way i was writing about. i hid my computer screen a lot. (my boss was cool with it, funnily enough.)

often, my best work is done in a fugue state. god is home is most of what i did for that week. i wrote, or i coded, or i looked up coding tutorials. and for a first draft made in a week with very little oversight, i think it's incredible it turned out that well. but... well, it is ultimately a first draft.

there's things i would change. most obviously, i would have an actual password input for that damn puzzle. the honest reason there isn't one is because i couldn't easily google a solution to implementing one. it is my deepest regret, and i hope you can all forgive me for this glaring mistake. i think some of the writing could be cleaner, or sharper, or more evocative. not that i have any interest in going for a second lap. gih is done, and it will remain done for the forseeable future.

...i don't have much else to say on that, honestly. i think my work is good. i think the central relationship is compelling. i think mary and michael are two of my favorite characters i've made, ever. as an author's secret, i totally think they should be t4t. i didn't make them a couple because it wouldn't have worked for the story i was telling, but it remains a sort of headcanon ending for the two of them. not for a while, though. don't take this as word of god, though. whatever you think their relationship is is correct. i'm not your dad.

i'm proud of the way i told their story. i'm glad it ends hopefully. hope is the main thing i wanted out of this story.

that being said, i do have one last thing to say: god is home is not an arg, and it makes me really sad to see people call it that. not a callout if you did that, though. i knew it would happen. its inherent that any media will be, in some way, misinterpreted. misinterpreting is the stuff media analysis is made up of, really.

so... that's the actual retrospective. but i promised i'd talk about what i might work on. so here's that.

i'm planning on making a personal site next, provided i can get the motivation. please note that i've been "planning on making a personal site" since the day gih was released, and so far i have done the following:

made a new neocities account

so it'll probably be a while. but if i ever do, it'll have some new story hidden in the margins. i don't think i have it in me to make a home without a few skeletons in the closet.

as for what that story will be... i have about a hundred different ideas. your guess is as good as mine, but know that it won't be about a house this time. most likely. hopefully.

i do also have plans to do something with unhomes, the sort-of-ARG mentioned in gih. i'm not done with this world, and i know i'll find some way to come back to it. maybe even back to michael and mary, but i make no promises.

alright. that's all i got.

i'm glad i made god is home, ultimately, and i'm glad it got some legitimate appreciation. if you're one of the people who likes it, thats rad. i'm sincerely incredibly appreciative of those of you who got something out of my work.

bye-bye. see you soon, hopefully.

#gih #long post #fair warning: this thing is fairly #stream of consciousness #i guess #rambly #but its honest #at least #bedroom #youre allowed to reblog this if you want by the way #idk if anyone would but like. you can. idc.

[echospringshq]

Welcome to Echo Springs, ASAGI! We can’t wait to write with ATEM AMIR from YU-GIH-OH! You can check out our checklist for what to do next here, but please send your blog to the main in the next 24 hours and follow the tags!

#echospringsaccepted

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

For Dream to be introduced in GiH, I think it should be gradual.

In their first year, they panic when they see a portal open and see a mask, but then they realize that it's just XD checking where they went. It happens often in public areas that people poke fun that they are scared of a smiley face.

In the second year, they still worry that one day the portal will open and Dream will come out of it, but it's already been almost two years and it still hasn't happened, so their not really concerned. (Besides, they have a basilisk to befriend.)

In the third year, bogarts are introduced so that's f u n. They are the last group to go and when Tommy's shows Dream, the rest of the school start to make connections with the smiley face.

They're all scared cause if someone can scare the gremlins, then what does that mean for them?

(They all comfort each other in the room of requirement after and that's when they start to live there.)

(Dream was the reason why the death eaters escaped but they don't make that connection yet until WAY LATER, when the gremlins and the golden trio meet Sirius, and describes someone in a mask while they were also escaping.)

Year four, the year were everything happens, including t r a u m a

Dream decides to make himself officially known in the attack at the quidditch world cup

Not only is Harry put in the triwizard cup, but also Tommy cause Dream requested it.

The implications of Harry and Tommy being teleported to Voldemort and Dream iS SENDING ME

Anyway, that's all I got for how Dream should be introduced. Sorry to dump this cluster clump on you, but I had to write this down.

- @dreamsmp-tv-show-au

Oh. Oh no.

The fact that you put in Tommy in the tournament as well is worse. Like I was just going to have it go on like in canon with the added unfortunate effect of Purpled just being straight up kidnapped but oh god. This is worse.

Love the gradual emergence of Dream actually being in the world and the little things in here. Although Dream probably still keeps to the shadows in fourth year until. Maybe the Gremlins see a glimpse of a mask during the Quidditch World Cup attack. Just there, waiting.

#dream smp #dream smp au #gremlins in hogwarts au #harry potter #dream #dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #dreamxd #ask #dreamsmp-tv-show-au

[vixenpen]

Okay um, hiiii! I just discovered your writing and i'm obsessed! Is it possible you can write separate headanons for Kiri and Baku with a Trinidadian American transfer student that they're head over heels for her!

It’s no surprise that this boy LOVES a bad bitch with an attitude

Is automatically stunned by you. You carry yourself like the baddest bitch in the room

He mostly antagonizes you to watch your roll your neck as you curse him out

“Eh eh, Mr. Boombastic leave him alone.”

“Who asked you, Afro?!”

Loves how your accent rolls over Japanese words, but when you speak Trini Creole 🥴🥴

Oof he’s hooked.

“Gih mi deh flicken ting nah, Boombastic!”

🥴🤤🥴

“What’s wrong with you boy?”

“Your accent is so sexy.”🤤

😫😫😫 “stop buggin me on purpose!”

Oh and your food

😤

Ma’am!

“Yo, Afro! If you teach me how to make that chicken stuff you made for the party, I’ll let you win a match.”

🤨 “You mean chicken pelau?”

“Yeah, yeah! That!”

🙄 “Fine, but you and I both know you’re not throwing a match for me”

😏 “true.”

😂 “boy bye! Fine I’ll teach you.”

You have a habit of listening to soca music when you cook and good lord

Are you trying to drive the man wild???

“Now, you just wanna put it in a little bit at a time, babe.” You say subconsciously wining your hips

👀👀👀 “Uh Huh...” wraps his arms around your waist. “So do it slow like this.”

And next thing you know his hips are winding right up against yours.

😵😵😵You.exe has stopped working😵😵😵

He’s obsessed with you

Thinks you’re perfect

Please teach him curse words in your language.

He WILL use them

Particularly to cuss out anyone fucking with his baby girl

He will fight anybody who thinks you’re anything less than perfect

He ADORES your accent. It’s so lyrical to him

“It sounds like you’re always singing, babes.”

He also loves your natural rhythm

If you’re dancing, he’s right behind you catching that ass as you pop your booty

You teach Kiri how to wine up

He definitely has the spirit and he’s so much fun to dance with

L O V E S both soca and calypso music

You in your carnival outfit 😳🤤🥵

The first time he saw you dressed in carnival garb he was like

“Babe, how do you say you’re a goddess in Trini Creole?”

He absolutely worships you

🤩😍🤩

Whenever he sees his bae

#trini girls #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #mha headcanons #my hero academia #black writers #bnha #eijirou kirishima imagine #kirishima x black reader #bakugo x black reader #my hero fanfic #bnha scenarios #black self insert #self insert #trinidad #for the culture

[vico-stardust]

Before you read, just know I'm going on little research (the very few things I read) and more on my opinion of this matter. Thanks 😊

We've become too susceptible to the n-word being used and thrown around as (black) popular culture. We need to seriously take a step back, and remember what our ancestors went through with this word. It was used to demoralize and segregate; the word was used to make black people inferior. Still, in its most raw and derogative form, this word is being babbled carelessly without thought. Changing the 'er' to 'a' does not change the meaning, thus it should not change the impact of this word. Its not a word that is supposed to be use to greet another person.... Yes I know it's a word that some black people want to "claim back". But how can you claim a word, that in the first place wasn't actually created by us, it was used to describe black people it does not belong to us, or anyone. It was made up by white people! And should not be used by any race. We don't hear other races, burdened by derogative words, calling each other those words....

I was recently called the n word multiple times, 6 different moments by some random people. (I went on Omegle, and honestly that was the last thing I expected). These random people behind the screen, saw me, saw a black person. But to them they saw a word used to make black people feel lower. They repeated the words over and over trying to get my attention....I was very shocked. Because never in my life have I been called that. After the sixth time, a girl who said "it's an ugly n word" (which hit me worse than all) it made me feel deeply sad for those in America who (now) get called this to their faces. Because these bullies are small, stunt, minded fools want to get someone else down....

My after thought was to go there "gih dem waah lick roun dey hedside, ahh aks if dem nuh ha no sense" if you didn't get that. Basically knock them on the head, and ask if they have sense.

I don't know how to say this enough. But black people need to stop using this word so lightly. Or ancestors, our grandma's grandma did not get called that as a friendly greeting...she was not made to feel safe when called that. She was not living life the way she wanted....

The word was created during slavery. I'm sure we all know that. It stems from there, let's not forget the impact this word made. Because no, we are not 'n's we never were and will never be, because black people are not inferior to white people. They are just as smart, just as beautiful and if a white person makes you feel smaller for being black. Honey, they only doing it cause they know they ain't shit.

And white people. You're definitely lot supposed to use this word, not in a derogative way, or jokingly friendly. NEVER!

Black people. Stop please. Stop washing/painting over such a huge part in the world's history.

Disclaimer: I'm terrible at writing these stuff. Legit writing this as 12am.

Please if anyone can add in support to this, and has done proper research and can help to make this look better, please add! I'm just putting this out there as a start.

Also, shame on you all who called me that. I am not less than you, I will never be.

If anything black people made white people better! Lol.

#race #quality #the n word #stop #popular culture #this is wrong #i was called the n word #its not okay #popular culture is wrong #no to the n word #stop it #black people #our ancestors deserve better #slavery #white people #derogatory #dehumanising #demoralizing #its wrong #commet #like #reblog #share #america is messed up #racists #racist people #omegle #fuck that

[sparklepines]

After the knowledge of wanting to have a King ride his boyfriend/knight on his own god damn throne, I’m finally making it happen. it’s been months. The shit I do to create- (reason why fics update so slow, sex is easy quick and fun the plot is just- sobbing)

The whole reason I wrote the Alien AU was also because I wanted to write the sex part and before I even started, I told Gih, “I don’t know what the plot is but I know exactly how Anti’s dick looks like and that’s all you are having for now.”

So yes. Yes, my friend. It is quite amazing haahhaha

#also that scene u just told is just 👌👌👌👌👌 #so GOOD #cutewarmachine

[jmarjanah838]

Baksorona. Jangan terkejut kalo kalian cobain resep ini. Next episode bakal bikin bakmi, so jgn lupa utk subscribe dan pastiin bell nya on biar kalian gak ketinggalan. Bakso or baso is an Indonesian meatball, or a meat paste made from beef surimi.

Your RONA account will allow you to: Save time and facilitate your online orders. Lihat juga resep Kuah bakso ayam enak lainnya. RONA vous fournit les meilleurs articles et produits pour vos projets de rénovation construction et décoration maison.

Hello everybody, I hope you're having an amazing day today. Today, we're going to make a special dish, baksorona. It is one of my favorites. This time, I am going to make it a little bit tasty. This will be really delicious.

Baksorona is one of the most favored of current trending meals on earth. It's appreciated by millions daily. It is easy, it's quick, it tastes yummy. They're fine and they look wonderful. Baksorona is something which I've loved my entire life.

Jangan terkejut kalo kalian cobain resep ini. Next episode bakal bikin bakmi, so jgn lupa utk subscribe dan pastiin bell nya on biar kalian gak ketinggalan. Bakso or baso is an Indonesian meatball, or a meat paste made from beef surimi.

To begin with this particular recipe, we have to first prepare a few components. You can have baksorona using 8 ingredients and 9 steps. Here is how you cook it.

The ingredients needed to make Baksorona:

{Prepare of Bakso 20 butir.

{Get of Sawi 2 ikat.

{Take of Mie kuning 2 bungkus.

{Make ready of Sedikit daging untuk kaldu.

{Make ready of Lada bubuk.

{Prepare of Bawang putih 5 siung.

{Prepare of Garam secukupnya.

{Prepare of Penyedap rasa.

Apa jadinya jika bakso bisa beranak pinak? Ketika sang Ibu Bakso dibedah, nampak terlihat Anak-Anak Bakso yang menggoda dan menggiurkan untuk disantap. We have a wide variety of dishes which standout as the center attraction. None of our dishes are side dishes because they all have the flavour and personality to be a showpiece.

Steps to make Baksorona:

Haluskan garam dan bawang putih.

Masak air sampai mendidih lalu masukkan bumbu yg sudah dihaluskan tadi dan lada dan penyedap rasa secukupnya.

Masukkan bakso dan biarkan sampai mendidih.

Lalu rebus air di panci yg berbeda sampai mendidih.

Masukkan mie kuning dan aduk hingga terlihat empuk.

Tiriskan mie.

Cuci sawi, potong2 dan rebus di air mendidih. Tiriskan sawi.

Sajikan dalam mangkok. Bakso, mie, sawi. Bisa ditaburi bawang goreng dan ditambah pangsit sendiri.

Selamat makan 😋.

Be the first to write a review! "Beli bakso, gih. Laper nih nggak makan dari pagi," katanya sambil memasukkan sepotong kue ke Alis pink Sakura saling bertaut. "Bang, motivasi Abang jualan bakso apa sih. Bakso or baso is Indonesian meatball or meat paste made from beef surimi Its texture is similar to the Chinese beef ball fish ball or pork ball The term.

So that's going to wrap this up with this exceptional food baksorona recipe. Thank you very much for reading. I am sure that you can make this at home. There is gonna be interesting food in home recipes coming up. Don't forget to save this page on your browser, and share it to your loved ones, colleague and friends. Thanks again for reading. Go on get cooking!

#recipesfood

[darkspear-panther]

Angrec - Describe a royalty au with your muse. What position would your muse be in? How would they feel about their station?

The air was lively, humid yet cool from the overcasting clouds. Luscious green trees rose over the horizon, dotting the mighty mountain with swaying leaves. The local beasties made their way across the jungle, perching and eating these wonders, some in their pens. Beside nature’s activity, the lower tiers were quiet. All others- farmers, priests, scholars, warriors, everyone and anyone -were gathering around the temple. 

No other way she’d be crowned Queen, Kij’aza mused to herself, watching the grand scene below. 

Loa knows how winding this road had been, from simple exploration of Zandar to a full on rebellion against the old King. How she -a huntress of the Darkspear- was chosen by the loa to lead this mighty empire. 

Of course, it was far from over. Though Rastakhan was dead, they had spared his daughter, her life spared in exchange for her service. Greedy advisers still lingered as well, their eyes cast upon her golden throne. And that was without going over the disenfranchised tribesmen, unamused that a young member of a small tribe was going to lead. 

“Yar ‘gihness.” The young maiden- Pan’ya if memory served -called out. “Ya be done now. Is it...good?”

Kij’aza hummed, turning back to the mirror. Indeed, Pan’ya hadn’t been exaggerating when she claimed her skill in fashion. The top half of her hair had been pulled up into a high ponytail, braids running along to the golden tie. An ornamental pick had been stuck in the do as well, carved by the royal blacksmith and blessed by her loa. It ran down her back, joining the rest of her yellow hair. 

Her orange eyes had always been intense, but never quite so much as now, with black wings drawn around her eyes. They flickered with glee, looking down at the golden wear of her attire. Large gold hoops for her ears, smaller around each tusk, matching the highlights of her headdress, feathered and engraved with immaculate detail. 

Oh, and that gown! Though tight on her chest, it had been worth it. A light purple dress, akin to that of the previous princess, hugged her waist flatteringly. It flowed down in a cascade of white and violet, allowing free motion of her legs to move about. More feathers hung around her shoulders and waist, picked from her favourite dinosaurs around the island. 

“Yah.” Kij eventually nodded, bowing her head ever so slightly to Pan’ya. “Tell da guards I ready foh my ceremony. Time ta take my crown.”

“O’ course, yar ‘ighness.”

( Sorry for the wait, @shuuhuu, but this was fun to write! Thank you so much! )

[norwegian-salmon]

Oh Well, what a weird dream?

Okay berhubung malah kebangun jam segini, hanya ingin menceritakan mimpi yg barusan bgt aja aku alamin. Karna jarang2 aja aku bisa mimpi lagi waktu tidur HAHAHAHAHA, ditambah lagi mimpinya bikin kepikiran. So i decided to just write it down in here.

Berawal dari ngga sengaja ketiduran entah tadi jam berapa sambil ku nonton Criminal Minds, ngga tau awalnya gimana cerita mimpinya tapi yg kuinget itu tiba2 aku lagi duduk di satu mobil dan banyak orang di mobilnya. Maybe the situation looks like i’m in the middle of and open trip? Ngga tau pasti, tapi di dalem mobil itu ada beberapa orang yg kukenal, salah satunya kakakku. Di jalan kaya lagi pada ngobrol aja gitu sampe ternyata ada 2 orang yg lagi ngomongin sesuatu ttg pasien2 gituu ku lupa detail obrolannya tapi yg jelas it sounds interesting that i have thought to chime in into the conversation. Setelah ngobrol lama, ah seems like this 2 guys are a resident in their final year, lagi jadi chief kaliyaa pokonya mereka lagi ngobrolin tentang RS dan kehidupannya.

I joined in the convo without telling that i’m actually also an MD, they’re not asking tho, so i just thought why would i tell them if they don’t ask me about it. Pokonya obrolannya seru abis sampe ngakak2 dan aku tau kalo ternyata trip inituh banyak pesertanya, karna 2 orang ini sampe ngehubungin temennya yg recently graduated from pediatric department as a specialist, yg ternyata ikut trip ini jg cuman ada di mobil lain. Yg kuinget 2 orang ini salah satunya lagi residensi di urologi, dan yg satunya entah di obgyn/anes, dan yg mereka telfon itu baru lulus dari residensi anak. Ngobrol2 banyak yg ku ga inget obrolannya apa tau2 ternyata kakakku jg ikutan ngobrol, sampe akhirnya jadi kemana2 kita barengan gitu as a group selama trip itu. Tbh i dont remember any details about the trip at all. Cuman ada beberapa orang yg kukenal dari grup ada disitu juga.

Oh the reasons why i decide to write this down is because one of that resident got my interest and it seems like the dream revolves around him, idk why WKWOWKWKWKWK. Karna yg kuinget setelah itu cuman perjalanan balik dari trip itu, ku banyak ngobrol sama residen ini tentang semuanya. Kehidupan lah, hal2 ga penting lah, diobrolin aja pokonya. And in that dream, i really enjoy every moment with him. He can bring out the real me. WKWKWKKWKWK sampe gatau gimana ceritanya pokonya di mimpi itu yg kuinget tau2 udah pulang, sampe, entah dimana kotanya, pokonya semua yg ikutan di trip itu mau bubar pulang ke rumah masing2. Tapi entah gimana aku sama kakakku tau2 sampe di rumahnya residen ini, nebeng kaliya gatau diajakin sama residennya buat main. Tapi yg jelas disitu ku kenalan sama ibu dan adiknya residen ini. Sangat welcoming dan warm gitu pokonya keluarganya ke kita. CUMAN ternyata dari trip tadi tuh ada sepupunya residen itu yg bawa anaknya, anaknya masih kecil, cowo, sekitar 3-4 tahunan kaliya, namanya guna (aneh ga sih w gainget siapa nama residennya, tapi yg w inget malah nama anak sepupunya doi WKWOWKWK) nah ceritanya aku diajak sama ibunya residen ini buat main dan istirahat dulu di rumahnya sebelum pulang, (kakak w kaga tau dah kemana) tapi si residen ini disuruh nganterin dulu sepupu + anaknya pulang pake motor karna deket.

Tapi karna disitu yg kuinget udah malem gitu + cuacanya dingin, pas lagi mau dianter pulang ditanya sama mamanya residen ini “jaketnya guna mana? Ko ngga dipakein jaket kan ini udah malem”

Terus sepupunya residen, aka entah mak/bapaknya guna ini ngeluarin kaya vest gituu buat guna, tapi kan sleeveless tuh terus mamanya residen ini protes “jaket ih bukan vest, kan tante bilang kalo naik motor guna harus pake jaket yg tebel tangannya panjang. Kasian dia ke angin2 di jalan, dingin. *piiip* (sumpah kesel bgt kenapa aku bisa2nya ga inget nama residennya padahal disini mamanya manggil nama dia) ambilin dulu gih jaket di dalem buat guna”

Residen ini ngeiyain dan nyoba buat ngegendong guna tapi gunanya rewel ngga mau gitu malah jejeritan + nangis, terus entah gimana ceritanya pokonya aku bisa nenangin guna dan dia tau2 lagi kugendong trs udh anteng gitu. Sampe akhirnya mamanya residen bilang “yaudah sok skrg cepet ambil jaketnya ke dalem, kamu ajak gunanya jg sambil ditemenin tiara aja ke dalemnya”

Terus yaudah akhirnya yg lain tetep diluar tapi aku nemenin residen ini masuk ke rumahnya sambil gendong guna + ngobrol, kaya dia nanyain kayanya aku gampang bgt nenangin bocil2 trs kenapa bocil2 bisa gampang deket sama aku. WKWKWKWK ANEH BGT GA SI. Sampe akhirnya guna minta turun dr yg aku gendong karna dia ngeliat ada kolam ikan, terus yg aku inget terakhir adalah gimana residen ini senyum sambil ngeliatin w. AND THEN THAT’S IT. WTF BGT GA SI??? ANEHH?? BINGUUNG WKWKWKWK MIMPI MACAM APA INIII

Terus sampe detik ini nih ya, mukanya residen itu tuh masih nempel di otak w, tapi aku gabisa describe mukanya mirip siapa/itu muka siapa?? Kaya ya pokonya ada deh mukanya di kepala w ni masih nempel sampe skrg. Aneh bgt asli sekalinya mimpi pas tidur ko malah begini hahaha. Residen oh residen saya tidak tauu anda siapaa wkwkwk tapi kenapa malah bikin kepikiran gituu dan muka u nempel di memori w tapi samar2 hadoooh.

Udah sih itu doang, WKWKWKWK luv u guys maafin ya followersku kalo ini mengganggu, gausah dibaca ko. Emang cuman mau menjadikan ini dokumentasi buat diri sendiri aja hahaha

[noirmanifestotest]

(To Love You Is To) Lose You

He loves someone, so he has to run.

Pairing: Seungyoun/Hangyul Word Count: 2,9K Words Notes: Dern Universe. My take on Dianjo’s shared night.)

⚠️ Contains explicit materials. Please proceed with caution. ⚠️

Disclaimer: Ada beberapa (baca: banyak) made-up details dari gue sendiri. Kalo ngga pernah muncul di DERN berarti nggak canon. Cerita ini hanya interpretasi gue akan Dianjo.

Writer Notes: Debut nulis Bahasa panjang. Tapi tetep ada beberapa part yang ditulis pakai English karena gue nggak merasa pas dalam Bahasa. Semoga penerimaannya masih oke ya. Happy reading!

(I recommend you to listen to A Common Love Story while reading. The whole mood of this story is set around this song as I was listening to it while writing.)

---

Absolute values are Michael’s best friend.

Menjadi DERN berarti mengeliminasi segala kemungkinan yang membuatmu takut dan mengamini nilai-nilai fondasi mereka sebelum menjadikannya milikmu. Di momen kau masuk ke dalam institusi ini, ikatan menjadi terbatas pada hubunganmu dengan sesama DERN. Mereka adalah saudaramu. Mengerti kapan harus menjaga dan kapan harus melepas mereka demi misi yang kau pegang. Sebuah ikatan yang sudah sewajarnya kuat, namun fleksibel jika diperlukan. Karenanya, perasaan dan hubungan personal menjadi elemen kemewahan yang tidak dapat dimiliki siapapun disini. Kau tahu sejak awal bahwa kau akan diberikan mandat dari spektrum sepele hingga hal terberat yang bahkan tidak sedikitpun pernah terbesit dalam pikiran. Bagi mereka dan bagimu, injakan pertama ke dalam Headquarter berarti mengubah arti hidupmu menjadi sebuah dedikasi kepada mereka. Nilai-nilai absolutmu sebagai manusia tiba-tiba bertambah sampai ke titik dimana kau lelah menghitung banyaknya.

Setelah melalui segala assesment detail dan potensimu, mereka tidak memilih sembarang orang untuk diposisikan dalam sebuah misi. Memang ada sejumlah keahlian dasar yang dipukul rata—hal-hal yang wajib menjadi skill yang dimiliki setiap anggota institusi ini. Namun pengerucutan ke detail terdalam mengenai kelebihan-kelebihan individual menjadi penentu besar dalam penjatuhan misi. Dan bagi mereka dan bagimu, mengetahui kelemahan yang dimiliki sama pentingnya dengan mengetahui kekuatan. Karenanya, Michael tahu betul mereka tidak akan menunjuknya dalam misi pendek (yang terasa panjang dalam waktu bersamaan) satu bulan lebih lalu jika ia bukan orang yang cocok dan kapabel untuk memenuhinya, dengan segala pertimbangan dan kalkulasi kelebihan juga kelemahannya.

Dengan penambahan nilai-nilai absolutnya, Evan merupakan anomali relatif yang tidak seharusnya menari di dalam kepala Michael lebih dari satu bulan dalam misinya sebagai Sodalis seorang Cho. Identitas buat Michael adalah hal yang mudah direkayasa. Disposable. Selesainya misi menandakan kematian dari pseudonym lalu yang pernah ia sandiwarakan. Menjadi Sodalis seorang TEN mungkin adalah salah satu misi yang membuat Michael merasa paling terekspos, sekalipun segalanya dilakukan dengan kehati-hatian dan dengan langkah-langkah preventif sedemikian rupa. Identitas pribadinya adalah hal yang rawan. And thus became a needed trade for a base, a foundation for something just as vital---a trust. Mau tidak mau, Michael harus tunduk. Walaupun begitu, seperti misi-misinya yang lain, Michael memperlakukannya seperti yang sudah-sudah. The same old routine. Yang tidak disangkanya, adalah keberlanjutan perasaannya (Catat: Dalam lingkupan luas) terhadap Evan Cho yang idealnya selesai di momen Evan membuka mata di rumah sakit setelah Gala waktu itu.

(Harusnya, ia tidak perlu berusaha meyakinkan dirinya bahwa ia hanya menonton patient monitor Evan detak demi detak sampai kehilangan waktu tidur untuk memenuhi kewajibannya sebagai Sodalis yang harus memastikan pasangannya keluar hidup-hidup. Harusnya, hal itu menjadi kewajaran buat Michael. Tapi ia tahu, begitu ia merasa perlu meyakinkan dirinya sendiri akan hal itu, adalah momen dimana Evan telah sukses menerobos dinding pertahanan yang telah dibangun Michael dengan sedemikian rumit. Segala hal tentang ambang hidup Evan tiba-tiba disadarinya menjadi lebih dari sekedar misi.)

---

Malam itu, nama acak tak berpemilik yang biasa dapat ia gunakan untuk bersembunyi di balik identitas baru tidak dapat dijadikan sebagai alasannya dalam berbuat hal-hal yang normalnya seorang Michael tidak akan lakukan. Ia berada disana sebagai dirinya sendiri, bukan karena panggilan dengan embel Sodalis. Sudah basi. Bukan pula karena DERN. Tugasnya sudah lama selesai.

Di jantung kota Seoul, Michael berdiri di depan pintu salah satu kamar di lantai 30 dari apartemen mewah yang berada dibawah kepemilikan keluarga Cho karena Evan meminta Michael untuk datang. Tepat setelah ia menyelesaikan misinya di Hanoi. Dan lagi-lagi, Michael butuh diyakinkan oleh dirinya sendiri bahwa ia hanya mengiyakan untuk mengecek keadaan Evan post-surgery.

It doesn’t even take him a moment to answer his bell.

“Quem é?” (“Who is it?”) Michael bisa mendengar suara familiar Evan dari intercom di sebelah pintunya.

Alih-alih menyebutkan nama, Michael menjawab, “O Diabo está com medo da visita de o Anjo?” (“Is the Devil scared of a visit from the Angel?”)

Pertanyaannya membuat Evan tertawa. Kali ini suaranya terdengar lebih jelas. Sepertinya Evan sudah bisa melihatnya di dalam layar. “Estive à sua espera, meu Anjo.” (“I've been waiting for you, my Angel.”) lelaki di sisi lain pintu terdiam sebentar sebelum kembali bersuara melalui intercom. “A senha é a data em que te peguei me chamando pelo novo apelido carinhoso.” (“The password is the date I caught you calling me by the new endearing nickname.”)

Malu banget. Kejadian lama dibawa lagi dan dijadiin password.

Tapi ia tidak mau berlama-lama berada di depan, sekalipun dengan sistem keamanan gedung berlapis yang dimiliki oleh apartemen ini. Jadi, ia memastikan tidak ada pergerakan mencurigakan di sekelilingnya, menutupi jari-jarinya yang sibuk menekan digit password di balik punggungnya sebelum menyelip masuk ke dalam dan menutup pintu di belakangnya.

“Welcome.” perhatian Michael sekarang berpindah pada lelaki yang sedang menyenderkan punggungnya ke balustrade balkonnya yang terbuka. Langkah kakinya ke bagian apartemen yang lebih dalam membuatnya dapat melihat dengan jelas apa yang sedang dipegang oleh Evan. Yang diperhatikan hanya mengangkat gelas wine-nya sebagai sebuah undangan sebelum menyesap cairan merah di dalamnya. “Mandi dulu, gih.”

“Sekalian mau pake mesin cuci lo, if that’s okay. Gue udah nggak ada baju bersih buat pulang.” Michael membuka kopernya di dekat mini bar untuk mengambil toileters bag yang berada di paling atas isi kopernya, menguncinya kembali sebelum melangkah menuju pintu yang terlihat seperti tempat masuk ke kamar mandi. “Ini kamar mandinya, kan?”

“Yoi.” Evan menjawab di sela-sela sesapannya. “Feel free to use whatever’s in the bathroom.” ia melemparkan senyuman pada Michael yang dibalas dengan anggukan. Tatapan Evan yang seperti menunggunya mengatakan sesuatu membuatnya merasa canggung. “Lo mau ngomong sesuatu?”

Jadi ia selesaikan dengan, “Gue... mandi dulu?”

Kali ini senyuman Evan berubah jahil. “Gue juga kangen sama lo, Anjo.”

Kalimat Evan dibalas dengan putaran mata malas sebelum Michael menutup pintu kamar mandi di belakangnya.

---

Tak adanya pakaian bersih miliknya yang dapat dikenakan Michael membuatnya harus puas berjalan di dalam apartemen Evan dengan bathrobe berwarna putih tebal identik dengan yang dikenakan Evan sekarang. (Tentu saja Evan sudah menawarkan pakaiannya untuk dikenakan dan dibawa pulang Michael, yang langsung ditolaknya mentah-mentah.) Kakinya menuntunnya mendekat pada lelaki yang sedang mengisi sebuah gelas kosong yang serupa dengan gelas dengan isi yang masih tersisa sedikit di atas meja. Langkahnya terhenti ketika pandangannya terpaku pada botol hitam yang dipegang Evan.

Ia bahkan tidak perlu menyentuh botol tersebut untuk mengetahui identitasnya. “1947? Bisa-bisanya lo buka Cheval Blanc diluar hari spesial,” Michael mendengus pelan.

“Kata siapa ini bukan hari spesial, Anjo?” Lelaki itu menyodorkan gelas yang baru diisinya pada Michael, yang diambilnya tanpa kata. Ia kemudian menuangkan wine yang sama ke dalam gelas miliknya hingga menyamai isi gelas Michael. “You’re here. It’s enough reason to call for a bottle of Blanc.” Senyum penuh arti Evan membuat telinga Michael terasa agak hangat. Ia harap warnanya tidak ikut berubah merah.

Michael mengetukkan base gelasnya pada gelas Evan sebelum memutar cairan merah di dalamnya, mendekatkannya pada hidungnya sesaat sebelum menyesap minuman tersebut. Opulent. Ia tidak ingat kapan terakhir kali pernah mencicipi wine dengan kaliber ini.

“Udah baikan?” Michael memulai percakapan untuk memecah keheningan di antara mereka. Suaranya membuat Evan berhenti memainkan gelas wine yang sedang diapit dua jarinya.

“Never been better.” lawan bicaranya memutar bahu kanannya sebagai pembuktian. “I can even handle a hit on my chest.”

“Jangan gila,” he lets out a small sigh. “Gue udah nggak jagain lo lagi kalau ada apa-apa. Jangan bikin khawatir.”

“Khawatir, eh?”

“Maksud gue-”

“Leave it at that, Anjo. I do enjoy your slip-ups of attention.” kedipan mata Evan tidak dihiraukan Michael yang sedang berpura-pura sibuk menghabiskan isi gelasnya. Tawa Evan yang mengikuti setelahnya tidak seharusnya terdengar seperti tempat yang ingin disinggahinya. “Help yourself.” is enough invitation for Michael to pour in another fill of the crazy rare, expensive alcohol that Evan does not seem to care whether he wants to drink it or bathe in it. Jadi, kali ini Michael mengisi gelasnya kembali tanpa meminta izin terlebih dulu.

Pandangan Evan dialihkannya kepada pemandangan artifisial yang dibangun dan ditata sedemikian rupa oleh manusia satu-persatu hingga menjadi tempat yang disebut sebagai perkotaan. Gemerlap lampu yang berasal dari gedung-gedung tinggi dan jalanan Sabtu malam di Seoul menghiasi kota yang sudah lupa rasanya beristirahat sejenak. Michael mengekori.

Tanggung jawab akan badannya sendiri adalah hal mutlak. Untuk itu, Michael telah membangun toleransinya akan alkohol dengan baik. Akan sulit bagi konsentrasi alkohol dalam dua gelas 1947 Cheval Blanc untuk membuatnya tumbang. Namun, ia tahu kalau satu atau dua gelas lagi akan membuatnya lebih rileks.

How long has it been for Michael since he last allowed himself to be a mere human?

Selama masa dedikasinya pada DERN, Michael banyak berkenalan dengan berbagai macam orang dan hal baru. Segala hal yang dapat memicu dan membangun kemampuannya akan dicobanya, jika dirasa dibutuhkan. Semua, kecuali rasa takut. Berbatasan dengannya pun Michael tidak sudi.

Tidak sudi, atau pembatasan diri terhadap kelemahan yang ia sadar mungkin tak dapat ia kontrol begitu keberadaannya diakui?

“Pasti lo lagi mikir.” suara Evan memutus rantai pikirannya seketika. Perhatiannya sudah kembali ke saat ini. “Kenceng banget sampe gue bisa denger.”

“Ngada-ngada lo.” Michael kembali mengangkat botol hitam di sebelahnya untuk menuangkan kembali minuman tersebut ke dalam gelasnya. Kali ini, Michael menenggaknya seakan cairan tersebut berisikan bir murahan yang biasa diselundupkan teman-teman sepermainannya sebagai medium permainan konyol dan bukan alkohol dengan usia lebih tua dari orangtuanya dengan harga selangit.

Alih-alih mengusilinya seperti biasa, Evan hanya menatapnya dengan pandangan yang tidak bisa ia baca. Aneh, bahkan setelah melewati kelas analisis keperilakuan dan sub-kelas lanjutannya.

“Mike.” ia bisa mendengar perubahan nada yang menandakan perpindahan perasaan hati Evan. Kali ini, ia tahu. Karena ini adalah persona Evan Cho yang hampir tidak pernah dikeluarkannya, setidaknya di muka publik. Ia bahkan tidak ingat jika Evan pernah seserius ini di depan orang lain. Semua, kecuali…

Kali ini, ia membawa wajahnya sedikit ke atas. Sepasang matanya bertemu pandang dengan pasangan mata pemilik suara dari sosok di hadapannya. Seketika tenggorokannya terasa kering. Namun kontras dengan hal itu, tubuhnya menyambut rasa nyaman yang mulai timbul setelah gelas ketiga dan membuat awasnya sedikit mengabur. “Apa?”

“Lo berisik.” Evan melanjutkan.

Tatapan Michael datar. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“Your head,” Evan mempersempit jarak diantara mereka sekarang. Dari posisi ini, Michael bisa melihat fitur wajah Evan yang biasanya tidak ia perhatikan. Pandangannya turun ke tempat lain. Apapun, selain kedua bola matanya yang sibuk menelaah mata Michael yang selalu sengaja dibuatnya tak terbaca. “It’s fucking loud.” mereka kini hanya dibatasi oleh ruang bernafas. “Don’t think, Anjo,” Ujung hidung mereka bertemu, dan Michael tahu kesempatannya untuk berputar balik sudah lama hilang. “And follow what you really want.”

Mungkin cairan yang telah bersatu dengan sistemnya itu adalah sebuah dorongan yang dibutuhkannya. Maybe it’s the right push to his button. He’s perfectly sober, mind you. God forbid if he ever catch himself in a lack of conscious decision.

Namun sekarang, membiarkan dirinya untuk sedikit lebih dekat kepada sisi kemanusiaannya tak terdengar separah dalam pikirannya.

Thinks.

So for once, he doesn’t.

Hal terakhir yang Michael lihat adalah pupil Evan yang terdiltasi sebelum bibir mereka bertemu.

---

Isi kepalanya ia tukarkan dengan insting manusiawinya. Jika lumrahnya Michael adalah seorang dengan tingkat kuasa tubuh tinggi, hari ini mungkin adalah kali pertamanya ia membiarkan badannya menuntun kemana mereka akan pergi. Hingga saat ini, ia masih tidak percaya ia baru saja membiarkan Evan melucuti bathrobe-nya dengan sukarela, apalagi saat membiarkannya mempersiapkan Michael dengan suara yang mati-matian ditahannya.

Dorongan di dada Evan tidak mendapat perlawanan berarti. Badannya dibiarkan mengikuti tarikan gravitasi, dengan Michael yang tiba-tiba sudah menjadikan pangkuan Evan sebagai singgasananya. Persetan menjadi tontonan untuk kepuasan pribadi Evan. Ia lebih tidak sudi jika lelaki itu menjadi alasannya kehilangan kontrol yang setidaknya ingin ia pegang sekalipun dalam kepayahannya.

Cairan itu. Cairan merah itu. Michael akan selalu menyalahkan longgarnya kontrol akan dirinya sendiri pada cairan itu. Bagaimana pikirannya sekarang dipenuhi dengan hal-hal berkonotasi kotor yang ingin dilakukannya dengan Evan. Menurutnya gila jika tatapan Evan yang kini menggelap padanya membuatnya menjadi seperti ini, tapi kenyataannya, ia menginginkannya.

Evan bersiul singkat. “Feisty, aren’t we.”

“Shut the fuck up, Evan.” you took control off of me. Tidak disuarakan. “I’m not letting you get the pleasure of seeing me under you.“

“I mean… no objection. I’m enjoying this view.” Michael dapat merasakan sentuhan Evan di kedua sisi pinggangnya, mengelus kulitnya dari atas ke bawah. Ia membiarkan mata Evan mengeksplor setiap inci tubuhnya tanpa rasa malu. Pedulinya hilang. Ia tidak merasa ingin memukul Evan sama sekali kali ini. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Anjo.”

“You told me not to think,” Michael menaikkan tubuhnya sedikit untuk membantu Evan mengarahkan miliknya pada selatannya. Ia merasa seperti berasa di puncak dunia sekarang. Ia bahkan tidak memutus tatapan mata mereka ketika Evan akhirnya mendorong dirinya ke dalam Michael dengan perlahan. “Then be so quick my brain can't even keep up.”

Evan's smirk is fucking handsome. Michael wants to kiss it stupid. “Challenge accepted.”

---

Nyatanya, kali keempat mereka menandakan pemindahan kekuasaan yang awalnya dipegang Michael—dimana kini, Evan telah berada di atasnya. Kecuali, tak ada hitam diatas putih dengan tinta yang kelewat mahal disana, seperti waktu dimana ia berhasil mengambil alih sub-keluarga mafia Italia di Point Nemo dalam sebuah kapal pesiar mewah ilegal yang sedang melakukan pelayaran.

Tangan Evan cepat, kelewat cepat dibandingkan protes yang lumrahnya akan keluar dari mulut Michael di momen ia membalikkan posisi mereka kini. Duvet milik Evan terasa panas di punggungnya yang lengket. Tidak sampai sepersekian detik sampai Evan kembali menghujaninya dengan dorongan yang cepat kembali ke dalam Michael.

“Ah, Evan-Evan—” suara tamparan kulit bertemu kulit terdengar di seluruh ruangan kamar Evan. Rasanya yang mereka lakukan sudah kepalang terlalu jauh jika Michael ingin merasa malu. But he is.

Ia membiarkan tubuhnya sendiri membimbingnya ke tempat yang ia inginkan, dengan lengannya yang kini melingkari leher Evan. Tangannya meremas bahu lelaki itu kuat, berpegangan seperti hidupnya bergantung padanya seorang. Dua jam bercinta dengan Evan adalah waktu yang lebih dari cukup baginya untuk mempelajari ritme gerakannya. Jadi, ia menggerakkan pinggulnya, lagi dan lagi, bertemu dengan Evan di tengah dengan nikmat. Thank fucking god for the invention of sound-proof walls, karena Michael yakin ia tidak akan bisa hidup tenang mengetahui kemungkinan ada orang lain selain dirinya dan satu manusia lain yang sedang intim dengannya mendengar suara-suara tak tahu malu yang dibuatnya.

(Bahkan Michael ingin menghapus ingatan Evan akan ekspresi yang dibuatnya setiap kali Evan bersatu dengan dirinya, jika bisa. Terlalu memalukan.)

Michael menengadah begitu Evan menemukan titik spesifik di dalamnya dengan desahan pelan. “Disitu, ya?” Mata Evan melembut, kontras dengan tangannya di bagian paha dalam Michael yang sedang—tanpa tahu malu—melebarkan kedua kakinya untuk bergerak lebih leluasa, mencari tempat dimana ia dapat membuat Michael menggelinjang lagi. Ia tahu pegangannya di punggung Evan setidaknya akan sedikit membuat kulitnya memar. “It feels good there, mm?”

Beberapa percobaan lagi sebelum akhirnya Evan kembali menemukan tempat dimana ia bisa memanjakan Michael tanpa jeda. Reaching the place that makes him see stars. Gerakan pendek dan cepatnya seperti menghilangkan kemampuan Michael untuk menguntai kosakata yang koheren. Hanya nama Evan yang dapat diingatnya, keluar berkali-kali dari bibir merahnya di sela-sela desahannya. Seperti sumpah yang menandai setianya pada entitas agung suci tanpa mengenal kapan harus berhenti.

“You’re so loud. Is it that good, Anjo?” Michael tidak sadar volume suaranya yang berangsur mengeras. Mungkin ia sudah kehilangan pedulinya. At this moment, it feels like only him and Evan that exist in the world. “You’re getting tighter,” bibir Evan dibiarkannya bertemu dengan miliknya kembali, melumat erangan Michael yang sudah tak ditahan-tahan lagi.

Michael tidak tahu apakah akan ada kesempatan untuknya di kehidupan ini dimana ia bisa merasa tenang membalas tatapan mata Evan yang ia tahu hanya ditunjukkan bagi dirinya seorang. Pengandaian bukan perkara sulit, namun Michael tidak ingin terlena oleh fana yang tidak dapat dimilikinya sebagaimana keraspun ia berusaha. Ada limitasi-limitasi dari kemanusiaannya yang dibatasi oleh sekat tak terlihat bernama takdir yang tak dapat diubahnya, sekalipun ia bersedia menjual jiwanya kepada sang Iblis. Karena hal terakhir yang diinginkan Michael untuk terjadi, adalah celah kelemahan yang memiliki badan dan pikiran sendiri.

“Close, Evan, fuck, I lov—”

(Evan bukan matahari dan Michael bukan bumi yang bergravitasi mengelilinginya tanpa bisa mengatur bagaimana semesta bekerja. Evan adalah lautan dalam, dengan kedalaman yang tak tersentuh semakin jauh ia masuk. Jauh di lubuk hatinya, Michael adalah sebuah keinginan. Menyelami lautan bukanlah hal yang absolut. Penyelaman adalah sebuah pilihan.

Matahari terbenam di ujung cakrawala kala itu menjadi pemandangan yang luar biasa, dan ia tahu betul arti dari menjatuhkan pilihannya pada laut dalam. Malam itu seperti tanda bahwa ia telah memilih untuk membenamkan dirinya. Tekanan di dadanya meningkat seiring turunnya Michael ke dalam, dan dalam, membiarkan kegelapan mengambilnya, hingga tidak ada lagi tempat yang dapat diraih oleh sang matahari untuk menuntunnya kembali ke permukaan.)

---

Sinar matahari yang menyelip dari sela-sela gorden beristirahat di sisi wajah Evan. Hangat.

Ia membiarkan dirinya terkulai dalam posisi yang sama untuk beberapa menit sebelum akhirnya bangkit duduk dengan mata yang masih tertutup dan rambut yang acak-acakan. Butuh beberapa saat bagi Evan untuk mengumpulkan kesadarannya di pagi hari.

Tak ada yang berbeda dari biasanya. Kaca kamarnya yang tertutup gorden, duvet putih, sisa samar scented candle wangi musk-nya yang dimatikan sebelum tidur, ruang di sebelah kasurnya yang terasa dingin, segalanya terasa seperti biasanya.

Walaupun seharusnya, yang terjadi kemarin malam mengindikasikan semua hal yang jauh berbeda dari biasanya.

Bahkan dalam keadaan setengah mengantuknya, ini bukan skenario yang tidak diantisipasi oleh Evan sama sekali. Tidak. Bahkan ia bisa bilang dengan kepercayaan diri tinggi, bahwa ini adalah hal yang tipikal dilakukan bagi dia. Ini juga bukan pertama kalinya lelaki itu pergi tanpa kata.

Tanpa perlu dibilang, Evan tahu mengapa ini adalah akibat yang dipilihnya dari sebab yang mereka lakukan.

Ia membiarkan matanya kembali memindai sudut-sudut ruangan apartemennya perlahan. Kondisi kamarnya rapi dengan barang-barang yang tertata tanpa bekas debu sedikitpun. Lantainya bersih. Tidak dengan dua pasang bathrobe putih identik yang ditanggalkan dengan asal disana. Tidak pula dengan isi tempat sampahnya yang seharusnya tidak sekosong itu.

Seperti tak berbekas. Seperti tidak ada saksi pergumulan kemarin malam dengan deklarasi terdalam yang hampir keluar. Semua, kecuali sebotol Cheval Blanc yang bertengger di tengah mini bar-nya dengan keadaan setengah kosong.

Ia mengerti.

Apakah ia menyesal?

Tidak.

Tapi ia tahu, sakit yang ia rasakan kali ini tidak berasal dari luka di dadanya.

#inked

[felinehypocritical]

hi! Could u maybe write something where stanny is sick and bill comes over to cheer him up and brings him matzah ball soup and ginger ale for his stomach and is just super sweet? thank you ((:

YES I CAN!!!!

Bill Denbrough just kept finding himself there, didn’t he?

 There he was, on the Uris’s front porch for the second time in two weeks, holding a plastic container of soup in one hand and a six-pack of soda in the other.

 Oh, and Stan’s homework. Because that’s why he was here. Definitely.

He rang the doorbell and was answered quickly, greeting Mrs. Bertoli before taking the stairs two at a time up to Stan’s bedroom. When he  got there, he felt his heart swell slightly as he saw Stan, his Stan, silhouetted against his linen curtains as he looked down at him book.

 Bill padded lightly into the boy’s room with his load of supplies, sitting down on Stan’s normally pristine bed as the bedsprings creaked lightly at the unfamiliar weight. The dark-haired boy looked up quickly, his tired eyes catching Bill’s smile, and tried to stand, before he started coughing again. Bill got up again, sitting back down next to him on the windowsill.

 “H-hey, Stan.” The redhead kissed the boy on the forehead and put an arm around him, before Stan pushed him off and started his round of complaining.“What’re you doing?” He started. “Don’t kiss me! You’ll get sick, like me! Get off!” But it was too late, and Bill already had both of his arms around Stan’s waist as he lifted him onto the bed.

 “What y-you need to worry about,” Bill said as he put Stan down on his comforter and looked at him scoldingly, “is g-g-getting sick from bad air, fr-from outside. Get in bed, y-you g-guh-heek.”

 Stan narrowed his eyes at Bill, before scooting up on his bed and folding his arms over his chest.  He glared playfully at the taller boy, before looking down at what Bill had brought. He barely showed how sick he was, besides his red-rimmed eyes and pale skin, but huddled amongst his plush sheets, he certainly looked the part. “That’s a myth, genius.”

 Bill ignore him, and looked him up and down exaggeratedly, before mock-shaking his head. “Wow, ruh-really Stan? I knuh-know you’re s-s-sick, but you’ve r-really let yuh-yourself go…” He caught Stan’s eye yet again before grinning at him. “K-k-kidding. You look gruh-reat, for a guy who’s s-s-sick in bed.”

 “Gee, do you really think so?” Came the dry response. Stan rolls his eyes just as exaggeratedly at Bill before sneezing into his elbow and lapsing back into coughs. Bill made a move to go towards him, but he waved him off and straightened up, slowly. “What’s all that?”

 Bill gestured to his pile of offerings, before pointing to the plastic tupperware specifically. “Thuh-this is matzo ball soup-”

 “-Oh, gross.” Stan wrinkled up his nose, looking at the container reproachfully.

 “What?” Bill looked at Stan in confusion. Stan bristled slightly.

 “What, because I’m Jewish I have to like matzo ball soup? Real classy, Bill-” Stan was cut off by Bill’s hand on his shoulder.“Stuh-Stan, no. Th-that’s not it at all.” Bill looked concernedly at Stan. “Ih-it’s just th-that your mom told me j-just now that you liked ih-it.”

 Stan leaned his head on Bill’s arm, his head lolling, and looked up at him. “Well, yeah, because I eat it. I want my grandma to like me. But I’d rather not eat soggy lumps of crackers in chicken broth, so-”

 “Ew, gr-gross, stop.” Bill looked at him fondly. “I h-happen to like matzo ball suh-soup. I ate s-some on the way here.”

 “Hm.” Stan closed his eyes, letting Bill rub his shoulder, and his brows crease. “You’re a strange one, Bill, you sure are a weirdo.”

 “Gruh-grade A,” Bill agreed absently, looking at Stan’s eyelashes with a ferocious intensity before he sat down next to where Stan stretched out. Stan soon moved his head to Bill’s lap, and a smile stretched over his lips, before he furrows his eyebrows again and sucks a breath between his teeth. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

 “Stomach hurts a little. I ate too much earlier, oh, Bill-ee…” He groaned exaggeratedly, rolling over onto his side and rubbing at his breastbone as he hit Bill’s shoe toe. “And take your shoes off.”

 Bill complied, before reaching for some ginger ale from the six-pack he’d brought for this very purpose. “Ginger ale is g-g-good for that. And if y-you say you d-don’t like it, I’m not gih-hiving you a b-buh-belly rub.”

 “Belly rubs are for dogs.” Stan wrinkled his nose as he popped the bottle open, drinking a little before he let Bill thread his fingers through his hair. Blissful smile on his face, he pushed into Bill’s hands and hummed slightly.

 “Oh, no,” Bill teased even as he petted his boyfriend. “Wuh-wont I geh-het sick from your juh-germy roots?”

 Stan simply shook his curls around and looked up at the boy above him. “ No. ‘cause I said you won’t. Don’t you trust me, Bill?”

 “No,” Bill retorted. “Y-you deceived me into beh-lieving you luh-liked matz-zo ball s-s-soup.”

 “Did not!” Stan retorted, sitting up. “Mom told you that!”

 Bill rolled his eyes, kissing Stan on the nose, and then the lips. “Yuh-you know, ‘d be a l-lot more inclined to huh-help you if y-y-you seemed sick.”

 “But I can’t, Big Bill. I’ve been sick too many times to actually have it matter-” he was cut off by a round of coughs, but all the same, he looked up at Bill with a mix of doubt and irritation. Always some of that reserved for those he loved.

 Bill simply rubbed Stan’s back again, pulling him down to lay across his chest despite Stan’s struggles. “Easy t-tiger. Yuh-you better sleep now, or I’ll feed you matzo balls.”

 “You wouldn’t!”

 “I would.”

 They lay in silence for a while, looking at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of a vacuum downstairs, before Stan broke the quiet. It shattered like a blass windowpane being smashed with a dinnerplate even though Stan was quiet.

 “Bill?

 “Y-y-yeah?”

 “Did you come all the way here to take a nap?”

 “Yuh-yeah.” He grinned at Stan, who fought off a smile and pushed Bill’s head the other way.

 “You’re an idiot, Bill Denbrough.”

 As always, at the most key moments, Bill’s stutter managed to leave him. He smiled. “Oh, but you’re wonderful, Stan Uris.”

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Ok, ok, so brainrot go brr, and I may or may not have written the GIH version of the graveyard scene and Voldy's resurrection. I'm also gonna write the aftermath with Moody and what not, but should I dump it in your ask box as two separate parts or as one thing?

(I'd just leave like a link to an AO3 version, but I don't wanna lose my anonymity just yet.)

-Gemstone anon

To answer your question, two separate parts. I'm terrible with long posts and my brain often shuts off whenever it sees something like that.

And now, oh my god Gemstone I'm fucking vibrating. Oh my god I'm so excited to read it. So, so, excited.

#dream smp #dream smp au #harry potter #gremlins in hogwarts au #ask #gemstone anon

[its-caesar-bitch]

fun latin word of the day

evigilo (1) (ey-wih-gih-low) --  (trans.) to watch through (the night), to work through the night writing (e.g. books) || (intrans.) to be wide awake, (fig.) to be on one’s toes

“I will never be a morning person; the moon and I are too much in love” -- christopher poindexter

#archaeology #latin #fun latin word of the day #verbum diei #lingua latina #tagamemnon #classics #ancient rome #ancient greece

[ainidpr-blog]

Gue? Nulis?

“Ai, captionnya… jadi penulis aja Ai.” –Diana (si jago gambar)

“Ai, coba deh nulis. Tulisanmu yang sedikit-sedikit itu bagus loh” –Rosma (si jago jualan)

“Lo juga ada bakat nulis kan? Kirim gih ke media Bekasi” –Aprila (si jago begadang)

“Lo kalau nulis yang galau gitu pengalaman sendiri atau gimana sih?” –Affin (siapa lu?)

…dan masih banyak lagi saran-saran yang mengarah kesana (atau sekedar nanya dengan pertanyaan nyeleneh). Tapi, jujur sih masih ngerasa ‘cetek’ banget. Masih fakir banget kosa kata, masih miskin gaya bahasa, masih belum nemu gaya tulisan yang ‘klop’ sama diri sendiri. Meskipun gue tau kalau nulis gak harus nunggu sempurna juga.

           Pernah beberapa kali gue memberanikan diri buat ngirim puisi ala-ala gue ke beberapa event online. Eventnya kerjasama sama penerbit yang sebelumnya belum pernah gue denger. Gue cuma mikir “yaudahlah, coba-coba aja, sekali-kali gapapalah, iseng aja”. Hasilnya ya gitu, ikhlas aja. Tiap hari-H pengumuman, gue selalu pasrah. Siapin mental (udah kayak mau pengumunan nilai Ujian Nasional). Satu-dua event gagal, lanjut event lain. Di salah satu event yang gue ikutin, alhamdulillah dari 300-an orang, gue jadi 1 diantara 75 kontributor terpilih dan puisi ala-ala gue diterbitin. Bersyukur, masih ada yang bilang tulisan gue layak buat diterbitin. Meski eventnya kurang bergengsi dan mungkin cuma rasa syukur yang bisa bikin nikmatnya jadi lebih. Akhirnya gue punya buku juga. Walaupun cuma satu halaman yang ada tulisan gue-nya. Hahaha….. Pas gue bilang ke ibu, ibu antusias denger gue kepilih. gimana kalau gue jadi juara ya? Dibeliin hadiah kali ya kayak tiap kenaikan kelas pas SD. Haha.  Tapi lagi-lagi bukan hadiah dari ibu yang gue tuju. Gue cuma iseng. kalau keisengan gue ini berhadiah, ya alhamdulillah. (Oh ya mungkin bakat nulis gue nurun dari ibu. Dari gue SD, kalau disuruh bikin teks pidato atau puisi, pasti dibikinin ibu. Haha… tapi lama-lama gue ngerasa ga mau kalah sih, walaupun sampai sekarang belum ngerasa menang juga. haha). Waktu bukunya sampe di rumah, ibu yang pertama baca (berhubung gue berada di tanah perantauan). Setelah gue pulang ke rumah tercinta, mulailah ibu dengan kritik sarannya tentang puisi gue. Haha.. tapi gue ambil seru aja karena niat awalnya cuma karena iseng-iseng.

Buat yang suka bikin puisi, pasti kalian udah gak asing sama perlombaan yang puisi atau cerpen online. Pengen sih ikut lagi, nyoba lagi lombain tulisan gue. Entah buat ngumpulin rasa percaya diri, menghargai karya sendiri, ataupun cuma coba-coba alias iseng. Tapi biasanya event kaya gitu ada konsepnya, meskipun banyak juga yang membebaskan penulisnya. Biasanya tema tulisannya udah ditentuin sama panitia. Bisa jadi tema yang gak disangka-sangka, contohnya kopi. Gue pernah ikut lomba puisi tentang kopi. Padahal gue gak terlalu suka ngopi. Kan bahaya kalau tiba-tiba keluar tema yang lebih aneh lagi misalnya teh, susu, wedang ronde, sekoteng, bajigur, cilok, cireng, cimol, cilor. Karena setau gue, puisi yang tulus gak bisa dipesan. Karena seniman bukan pekerjaan, tapi jati diri. Gue suka nulis, tapi ngerasa belum bisa kalau dituntut buat nulis.

           Beberapa hari lalu ada yang ngadain challenge 30 hari buat nulis (30 days write challenge). Tapi gue sadar diri, gue gak selalu mood buat nulis. Gue ngerasa gak bisa konsisten nulis sehari sekali. Ya walaupun jenis, gaya, dan tema tulisannya bebas. Tapi yang ngadain challenge-nya bilang, “tulisan yang bagus memang perlu mood yang pas. Tapi poin disini, kita dipaksa meluangkan waktu untuk nulis, karena kalau nunggu sampe dapet mood yang bagus, namanya bukan #30DaysWriteChallenge” -tetap dengan gaya formalnya. Maklum, mantan anggota dewan di kampus. Haha. Setelah gue pikir-pikir, bener juga sih. Kalau ngumpulin mood terus ya gini, sampe umur udah mau 22, baru 1 tulisan yang diterbitin media. SELAMA INI NGAPAIN AJA? TIDUR? BANGUN, JANGAN TIDUR TERUS! Duh,  ternyata ngantuk juga ya habis nulis ini, kayaknya monitor laptop terlalu terang nih. Hoaaaam.. Bye..

#30dayswritechallenge