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alphawolfstabs · 6 months

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[Everyone Blame Cleav3rrr for this idea guys. It’s totally his fault-]

Imagine Doug Van Housen meeting Billy Loomis..

This will be something like- Billy being in the Animal Room timeline suddenly, and he’s meeting Doug and it’s hhhh

Anyways

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Title: The Vexation

Word count: 2648 Rating: Mature? CW: knives, blood, fighting

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Billy's awakening was accompanied by a relentless pounding in his head, one of the most excruciating pains he had ever experienced. The throbbing beat against his skull, rendering even the slightest movement a daunting task.

His entire body seemed to be in agony, and the awareness of this discomfort hit him almost immediately. Everything hurt, and the pain in his head took center stage, amplifying his irritation. Slowly, he rolled over onto his side, his eyes barely opening. Something felt amiss. Something was undeniably wrong.

With a sudden jolt, he sat up, a hand instinctively clutching his head as a surge of pain swept through him. The room he found himself in was alien, a stark contrast to the familiarity of his own space. Taking in his surroundings, he noted every detail that distinguished this room from his own. It was different—disconcertingly so.

As he rose from the bed, a distinct thud resonated on the floor. Glancing down, he discovered his knife, the trusty switchblade that Stu had gifted him. Stu. The mere thought of his friend intensified the disorientation. Where was Stu? Did he exist in this unfamiliar realm?

Picking up the knife, Billy set it on what appeared to be his dresser, contemplating the mysterious circumstances of his surroundings and the conspicuous absence of Stu. The room held a strange atmosphere, and Billy couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had shifted.

Billy felt a wave of nausea threatening to overcome him as he sluggishly moved around the unfamiliar room. He needed to find some sense of normalcy, something grounding. Spotting a plain t-shirt and jeans, he hastily threw them on, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that lingered in his gut. Where the hell was he?

Once dressed, he instinctively pocketed his trusty knife in the front pocket, a small yet familiar comfort in this disorienting situation. Memories leading up to this point were a blur, leaving him with a disconcerting sense of amnesia. All he knew for certain was that this place was a far cry from his usual surroundings.

Descending the stairs, he noted the eerie emptiness of the house. A heavy quietness hung in the air, casting a somber mood. His eyes fell on a note resting on the kitchen counter, and he carefully picked it up. The message, 'don't forget to go to the animal room today,' stared back at him, devoid of any signature. A vague recognition flickered in his mind, suggesting that the handwriting resembled his father's. Yet, the idea of his parents being present in this strange place seemed implausible.

His thoughts raced, and the nagging question kept piercing through the confusion: Where the fuck was Stu?

Frustration boiled within him, and he crumpled the note before tossing it aside. What the hell was happening? The uncertainty gnawed at him, leaving him with more questions than answers.

A curse escaped Billy's lips as he stepped outside, a strange compulsion tugging at his stomach, urging him forward. It felt like an instinct, a force guiding him through the unfamiliar surroundings. Succumbing to this unseen pull, he followed it, his senses heightened by an odd sense of purpose.

Upon arriving at the school, two distinct observations struck him. First, this place was vastly different from Woodsboro. The architecture, the atmosphere—all of it bore no resemblance to the familiar surroundings he knew. The second observation concerned a tall figure surrounded by several guys and one other individual.

Dressed in dark clothes with equally dark hair, the tall figure's face caught Billy's attention. It was an uncanny resemblance to Stu, yet something was amiss. This person exuded a deranged aura, a darkness that Billy couldn't associate with the Stu he knew. The observation unsettled him, but rather than approaching closer, Billy chose to keep a distance, at least for the time being. There was an air of caution, a hesitation to delve into the unknown.

Billy surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings before deciding to enter the building. Although he couldn't recall ever being here, an inexplicable knowledge guided him, directing his steps. A subtle internal voice suggested that he didn't have to be here yet, but an insatiable curiosity compelled him forward. He wanted to see, to understand, and to meticulously note every detail.

Navigating through the hallways, he encountered an anarchy symbol on the wall, triggering a vague sense of déjà vu. It was as if he belonged here, and that feeling only intensified when he noticed a guy dozing off in a chair. Rolling his eyes, Billy descended into what seemed to be a basement, a place that, on the surface, appeared to be a hellhole designed to isolate certain individuals.

To his surprise, the atmosphere down there exuded an eerie sense of normalcy. It was a paradoxical thought—how could a place that seemed like a hellhole feel so commonplace?

As he explored further, another striking realization dawned on him: Stu didn't exist in this strange realm. Instead, the mysterious guy from earlier was present. Intrigued, Billy felt an urge to learn more about him, to unravel the enigma surrounding this unfamiliar counterpart. It was a necessity, a gut feeling urging him to comprehend the dynamics of this peculiar place.

Billy's fingers traced over the surface of one of the desks, and he decided to claim a seat. His legs stretched out, ankles crossing, and a semblance of relaxation settled over him. Several minutes passed, and more people filtered into the room, none of them paying any attention to him. That sense of anonymity pleased him.

He observed the dark-haired figure, one of his companions addressing him as 'Van Housen' while another simply called him Doug. Doug Van Housen. The absurdity of the name almost tempted Billy to snort, but he restrained himself, biting his tongue.

The room buzzed with the flickering light of a TV as someone switched it on, broadcasting something that failed to pique Billy's interest. Instead, his focus honed in on Housen, and he meticulously noted every detail—the shoes chosen for added height, the clothing, and the palpable irritation emanating from him.

Though Housen appeared to radiate a dangerous aura, Billy's instincts were driven by a desire to prod, poke, and unravel the enigma before him. He wanted to see what made Housen tick, to uncover the reasons behind his seemingly menacing presence. It wasn't about fear; it was about understanding, peeling back the layers to reveal the truth about this mysterious figure who bore an uncanny resemblance to his boy- his.. friend.

Billy contemplated the idea that he could easily kick the leg of Housen's chair to gain attention, but for the moment, it felt unnecessary. As conversations unfolded around him, Billy remained observant, catching shadows moving behind the door labeled as the exit. He recalled the guy asleep in the chair and speculated that there might be more of them, silently watching.

An uneasy feeling settled in Billy's stomach as the alarm bells rang in his head. The notion of being watched by unseen observers didn't sit well with him.

Amidst the ongoing chatter, Housen's voice carried irritation and impatience. Everyone continued talking, seemingly oblivious to the potential danger lurking behind the door. Billy's attention shifted back to the shadows moving again.

When he saw Housen's hands inch toward the desk, Billy was quick as he stood and reached over and grabbed his shoulder, his voice low and meant for Housen alone. "Not yet. They're waiting, just for you. Wouldn't want them to actually have a reason to mess with you today, would you?" A sly smile played on Billy's lips as he touched a mark on Housen's jaw. "Especially not after this."

Tension gripped Housen under Billy's grip, but as he met Billy's gaze, a fiery determination burned behind his eyes. Billy reveled in the intensity, wanting to stoke that flame.

"What?" Housen retorted in a hushed tone.

Billy motioned toward the door. "The shadows under the door. They move whenever you speak even remotely too loud. They're waiting for you to do something."

Housen blinked, swatting away Billy's hand, but the fire in his eyes seemed to dwindle. He glanced at Billy, then at the guy beside him, commanding, "Beat it." The way he spoke had an immediate and powerful effect, causing everyone to stop. It made Billy twitch, craving more. Housen patted the chair after the guy left, and Billy sat down, anticipating the unfolding dynamics of this peculiar place.

Billy wasn't in the business of making friends, especially not with someone who wasn't Stu. Nevertheless, this guy intrigued him in a peculiar way.

Housen directed a question at him, his tone probing. "What are you here for?"

Billy casually lolled his head to the side, feigning disinterest as his gaze rested on the TV. "Secrets, secrets," he replied nonchalantly.

Housen emitted a noise of acknowledgment, turning his attention back to the TV. The room resumed its chatter, eyes off the two of them. "Why does everyone look at you like you're a threat?" Billy inquired, seeking answers.

Housen shot him a scowl this time. "What was it you said just now? Secrets, secrets?"

Housen sighed after that, seemingly only a willing to share. "Most people don't live; they exist. Yet, I've shown people what living is."

Billy snorted at the analogy. "What a dumb fucking analogy."

A sizzle of irritation began to form in Housen's gaze. "What?"

Billy grinned mischievously. "'Oh, people exist, they don't live!' Come on, man. Be more creative than that." The exchange was laced with a peculiar blend of tension and amusement, as Billy continued to toy with the mysterious Doug Van Housen.

Housen blinked at Billy, a subtle acknowledgment of the inevitable irritation that lay ahead. "Well, you're obviously going to get on my nerves."

Billy rolled his eyes. "Could say the same about you. What's with the fucking clothes, by the way?"

Housen looked at him again. "Style," he answered, the word delivered with an air of simplicity. The response tempted Billy to snort, but he managed to restrain himself this time.

Billy sensed that he wouldn't particularly like this character, yet there was an undeniable allure in the challenge of trying to unravel him. It promised a momentary diversion, a puzzle to solve in the peculiar environment they found themselves in. The dynamic between Billy and Housen, though laced with tension, held the promise of an intriguing dance of personalities.

As a day or so passed, Billy continued to navigate the intricate undercurrents of the peculiar environment surrounding him. One noteworthy observation concerned Housen's peculiar fixation on a particular individual—someone named 'Arnie Mosk.' Arnie seemed like an ordinary kid, grappling with everyday issues, perhaps even a drug problem. However, for reasons unknown, Housen harbored a distinct issue with him.

One day, Billy happened to be passing by the bathroom just as Housen and his entourage emerged, a few of them sharing hearty laughs as if they'd just witnessed something uproariously funny. What caught Billy's attention, though, was the unsettling look in Housen's eyes as they briefly scanned over his face. The glance was devoid of anything good.

Deciding to investigate further, Billy entered the bathroom and found Arnie on the floor, his face soaked with vomit. Sighing, Billy approached, offering assistance. He urged Arnie to report Housen's actions. When Arnie questioned him, Billy skillfully shut down the inquiry with an easygoing demeanor.

Now, the time had come for Billy to address Housen and the unsettling dynamic he seemed to harbor.

Billy positioned himself in the hallway, strategically near a classroom not currently in session. Hidden from view unless one approached closely, he readied himself for what he intended to do.

Taking out his switchblade, he deftly opened it, using the blade to clean dirt from under his nails. The minutes ticked by, and then the unmistakable sound of boots approached—Housen's boots. Billy heard the slam of a body against a locker, confirming that Arnie was the unfortunate target.

Billy shifted his grip on the knife handle and stepped out from his concealed position, moving carefully to avoid triggering Housen's awareness. Uninterested in the exchange of words, he acted swiftly, lunging forward. A firm hand clamped around Housen's head, covering his mouth, while the other pressed threateningly against his neck.

"Don't try anything. I'll make sure you bleed out right now," Billy hissed, low and menacing. He then directed a gaze toward Arnie. "Go, and don't say anything." Arnie blinked for a moment before swiftly making his exit.

Billy emitted a primal noise before issuing a directive. "Let's chat in a more private area." A forceful kick to Housen's foot set him in motion, and Billy guided him toward the bathroom, preparing for the private confrontation that lay ahead.

In the confined space of the bathroom, Billy wasted no time asserting dominance. He forcefully shoved Housen, relishing the satisfying thud as his face collided with the stall. A smirk played on Billy's lips as he scratched his head with the butt of the knife.

"You know," he began, the mockery evident in his tone, "I knew you were insane. What I didn't know was that you seem to move without reason."

Housen touched his nose, inspecting the blood on his fingers before locking eyes with Billy. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

Billy tilted his head, his smile widening. "You sure?"

Housen took a deep breath and advanced toward Billy. However, Billy, anticipating the move, sidestepped and expertly tripped Housen with a swift kick. He taunted, "Not very good without your little boys, are ya?"

Billy, well-aware of the dynamics within Housen's group, knew that his followers did most, if not all, of the heavy lifting. Housen was more of a barker than a biter.

As Housen lay on the floor, Billy applied pressure with his boot on Housen's back. Bending down, he grabbed a handful of Housen's black hair and pulled, prompting a pained noise. The knife tapped mockingly against Housen's exposed neck.

"Are you living now, Doug Van Housen?" Billy asked, reveling in the role reversal.

Housen emitted a noise akin to a growl. "If you want my blood, then take it, it's yours," he gritted out. His words hung in the air, causing a momentary pause for Billy. It felt like a challenge, an invitation, but also a statement that echoed eerily in his mind. His?

Growling in response, Billy couldn't resist the temptation. He cut a long line into Housen's arm, feeling a surge of aggression. "Don't fucking say that."

"Why not?" Housen breathed out. "Doesn't it make it fun for you?"

"Not at all," Billy retorted, releasing Housen's hair and pushing him to the floor. The desire to inflict further harm waned, replaced by a strange feeling that he couldn't quite define.

As Housen touched his face, he posed a curious question. "How pissed would you get if I said you were like me?"

Billy rolled his eyes. "You'd be a liar if you said that."

"Wouldn't I?" Housen smiled, and the next sequence of events blurred for Billy. Suddenly, Housen was on him, and the knife slid away from both of them.

"You curse someone in your life. As do I. My question is, who is it you curse?" Housen looked down at Billy, and a memory stirred in his mind, prompting a laugh.

"You did not just fucking ask me that. What? Did you read the story of Job and how he never curses God?"

Housen grinned. "You're knowledgeable."

Billy shook his head. "That was an easy fucking guess. What about you? Who do you curse? Mommy or Daddy? Or! Better yet, is it-"

Before Billy could finish his sentence, Housen cut him off with a hard punch to the nose. He felt the warmth of his own blood, and a twisted smile spread across his face, relishing in the sensation.

The room seemed to spin, and Housen's words became distant echoes as Billy's head lolled to the side. His eyes scanned the floor, fixating on the glint of his knife. The instinct to retrieve it surged within him.

In a hazy, almost detached state, he focused on the weapon, his mind tuning out the words that continued to spill from Housen's mouth. The need to reclaim the knife became an urgent, singular thought, overshadowing everything else in the room.

-End for Now!-

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kermapippurisaatana · 1 year

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I have been watching Dera stream Resident Evil 4 Remake and there was a moment where we were doing a puzzle while the polite regenerators were waiting patiently for us to finish.

[Don´t use my art, or tag as ‘kin’ or ‘me’. And keep the description in!]

#my art #Leon S Kennedy #Regenerator #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 4 #RE4

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catatanvi · 6 days

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Kemarin, Vidya nemui salah satu dosen pembimbing, Hehe, proses perskripsian ini belum juga berakhir, tapi gapapa, memang ga ada yang instan kan? pasti butuh tahapan-tahapannya, tadinya Vidya udah mau Full Bab skripsi, rencana mau minta TTD untuk Ujian Komperehensif, dengan berkas-berkas yang sudah disiapkan dari kosan, akhirnya Vidya ke Kampus juga pagi itu.

Pertama kali yang Vidya temui Dosen pembimbing 2, bahas beberapa hal, akhirnya di ttd, masyaa Allah, baik banget emang Ibunya, sejauh ini berperan banget dalam proses perskripsian ini, dari mulai dosen yang sering ngasih nasihat, semangat (biar bisa selesaikan skripsi tepat waktu), kadang sedikit teguran juga, xixi, tapi ya gapapa, memang kadang ada benar dan baiknya juga apa yang beliau sampaikan.

Semoga Allah senantiasa memberikan beliau keberkahan, beruntung sekali Vidya dapat dospem beliau, walaupun jujur Vidya deg-degan juga🫣, lanjut cerita ke Dospem pertama, karna ada rapat, Qodarullah beliau juga menjabat sebagai Dekan, jadi berkas-berkas Vidya akhirnya dititip di meja resepsionis, terus tadi sembari menunggu berkasnya, Vidya bantuin temen ke Kampus B untuk pengambilan Ijazah, iyaps! Dia udah wisuda bulan lalu, (keren banget uey temenku wkwk), mudah-mudahan Vidya bisa segera menyusul Wisuda! Aamiin!.

Perjalanan hari ini rasanya panjang banget, tadinya kita mau ngirit Ongkos, karna memang semahal itu kalau harus bolak balik kampus A ke B dengan Ojol, bisa 50an deh kayaknya (kurang lebih), jadi akhirnya kita jalan kaki kedepan, terus naik feeder (kendaraan gratis khusus rute LRT), kemudian naik LRT menuju kampus B, qodarullah Hujan, karna memang laper banget, akhirnya makan ayam geprek di deket kampus, sekalian neduh (hujannya deras hhe).

Oh iyaa, tadi ada kejadian konyol banget, haha, kita yang tadinya mau menghemat ongkos, eh ternyata malah keluar ongkos lain lagi, tadinya sebelum ke Kampus B kita Fotocopy KTM dulu (Kartu tanda mahasiswa), qodarullah KTM nya malah masih di tempat FC-an, sementara kita udah ada di LRT deket kampus, arght! Sementara KTMnya perlu untuk proses pengambilan Ijazah😆, akhirnya kita Go-Send KTM, wkwk.

Ada-ada ajaaa, xixi.

Setelah semua hal selesai, akhirnya kita pulang lagi, tadi diawal jalan kita udah planning bakalan naik ojek aja pulangnya, karna memang udah ga kuat😆, tapi entahlah, anak kos, mahasiswa akhir, kita akhirnya milih jalan kaki lagi kedepan, naik LRT lagi, terus naik Fedeer gratis lagi, lumayan budgetnya disimpan untuk makan dikosan😆

Diperjalanan sebelum pulang, Vidya sama temen balik lagi ke Fakultas, sebetulnya udah sore banget, setengah 5 tadi tuh, tapi Vidya pengen Cek berkasnya, kira-kira udah di TTD bapak dosen belum yaaa... dan, Alhamdulillah! Akhirnya di Acc, disilahkan untuk daftar Kompre🥹, jujur, Vidya ga nyangka bisa ditahap ini, karna memang perskripsian ini OVT terbesar banget di tahun ini, mudah-mudahan Vidya bisa segera melaluinya dan segera Wisuda yaaa, Aamiin!

Tadi ada kejadian konyol lagi di Ruangan dekan, ya Allah, malu banget Vidya tuh😆, harusnya Vidya minta Ttd Nota Pembimbing untuk Ujian Komperehensif, malah Vidya buat Keterangan suratnya Ujian Munaqasyah🫣, ada-ada aja, ini mau loncat proses kayaknya?🤣

Kata Bapak, silahkan diganti Nak, tadi belum bapak Ttd karna Suratnya ga sesuai, teliti sekali beliau, Masyaa Allah🥹, akhirnya Vidya cepet-cepet ganti suratnya, ke tempat Fotocopyan, terus balik lagi ke Ruang dekan minta TTd bapak, (soalnya besok, takut beliau ga ada di kampus) semenntara berkas-berkas ini mau di kumpul sebelum tanggal 10, hari ini tanggal 7 yaa:? mudah-mudahan bisa dapat sidang bulan ini.

Vidya inget banget perkataan Pak Dospem tadi.

"Ya Allah Pak, maaf banget, Vidya lupa, harusnya Ujian Komprehensif, malah Vidya ketik Munaqasyah🙈"

"Iya Gapapa Vidyaa, tapi kenapa kok bikin keterangan Munaqasyah?"

"Vidya udah siapin berkas-berkas Ujian Pak, mungkin Vidya salah kirim File pas mau Fotocopy, maaf ya Pak Vidya kurang teliti."

"Iya, segera diselesaikan ya, gapapaaa, nanti kalau teliti Vidya jadi Dosen"😅

—

"Maaf ya Pak Vidya kurang teliti"

"Gapapaa, nanti kalau teliti, Vidya jadi Dosen" 😂🤍

—

Semenangkan itu kalau ngobrol sama Beliau, Vidya jadi flasback momen Seminar proposal sama beliau, ada kejadian lucu juga hhe, Masyaaa Allah, semoga sehat selalu Pak, Allah limpahkan kebahagiaan. Aamiin.

Vidya udah deg-degan takut banget, soalnya jarang-jarang ada yang mau merangkul kalau kita salah, biasanya nanti di Ulti (tegur) dulu, baru dinasihatin dikit🙈, tapi dengan gaya humornya, beliau selalu tenang dan santai, Masyaa Allah🤍

Alhamdulillah 'ala kulli Hall...

Vidya mau nulis aja disini hhe, nanti bakalan kangen sama momen ini, untuk apapun itu, dan dalam tahap proses yang kita jalani, semoga Allah senantiasa memudahkan langkah kita ya. Aamiin.

Tetap semangat!

#catatan Vidya, 6 Mei 2024.

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laurastudarus · 4 months

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Kyoto is on the travel list of most first-time visitors to Japan for good reason. With its fleet of over 2000 temples, lush gardens and traditional tea houses, Kyoto is one of Japan’s major historical hubs – to say nothing of being easy on the eye (enjoy a sunset on the hill in Kiyomizu-dera to see what we mean).

(via 15 best things to do in Kyoto - Lonely Planet)

#kyoto #kyoto japan #lonely planet #travel #japan

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whiskeysmulti · 7 months

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🍒 + queenharumiura + vipermirage + myself

send me 🍒 + a url and i will write some positivity for them.- accepting!

.Whiskey.

Starting this one off with @vipermirage

Neptune, we love you! Your muses are quality, Viper especially. I love how you have them as the categorical little shit they are. Especially when they asked to be pretty much venmo'd x amount before they'd even talk. I like that there's a distinct difference in how they interact with the other Arcobaleno and Varia, as it was always something important to note with Viper, they were a part of both.

I also like that you keep Viper's sense of humanity, yes they have one. Mammon has on occasion shown concern for others and a sense of humanity and your interactions with Bel and Haru show it a lot.

And when I approached with Mukuro, they reacted accordingly. Mukuro would be a rival Mist user in general and a rival in being Vongola over Varia or Arcobaleno, so it makes sense that if Mukuro approached, Viper would already know something was up and it was probably something to do with wanting a test of who was stronger, which was exactly what I had in mind for Mukuro approaching.

Overall, your Viper is 100/10 amazing!

Next, @queenharumiura

Neo! My friend! I love your portrayal! You understand on a much deeper level that Haru is so much more than just the Tsuna fan girl she gets reduced to in fics. I love that you are so easy to plot with too, it's refreshing to just click with someone who not only can understand their own muse on a deeper level, but how the other writer's specific portrayal would interact with them.

I love that you have Haru well defined as she is instead of just following her canon strictly to a T which made writing with other Harus in the past kind of hard, (as I mentioned I've written Dera on discord and skype before and a lot of the time it didn't work out.) Sometimes I also wonder if you're a real life Haru as some of your own OOC interactions seem kind of on brand for her, like your fear of sending Mukuro anything lol.

I will keep this one short and sweet though I could go on, I love your portrayal, my friend you're doing great!

Now onto you @xcedia

NGL, Emi, I was actually hesitant to follow you before because I was intimidated by your portrayals. I don't know enough about Genshin or Persona to say anything on those ones, but your KHR muses are on point. From Primo to Hayato to Bel, Bianchi, Hibari and down the line, I see a lot of careful thought placed into each one and you even have their mannerisms and personality down.

I love interacting with you be it Bianchi, Bel, whoever you would choose, my muses and I will always be down for plotting and writing with you. You understand each character and bring them to life on the dash and I will follow you for the rest of my tumblr life just to read your stuff.

Closing statements: I love all three of you and I'm glad I got the opportunity to write with such amazing talents.

#asks #whiskey speaks; ooc #xcedia #queenharumiura #vipermirage

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wilsweb-asientour · 10 months

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Tag 27. 30.07.2023

22KM auf dem Tacho. Nach unserem Marathon-Tag gestern verließen wir erst 11:00 Uhr das Haus. Wir waren beide im Tiefschlaf, Schlaf, den wir unbedingt brauchten. Zuerst ging es zum Pokémon Shop, wo verschiedenste Memorabilia der japanischen Serie verkauft wurde. Erkennt ihr ein paar Pokémons wieder? Daraufhin ging’s auf den Nishiki-Markt, wo wir Gyoza Knödel kosteten, verschiedene Fischstände beäugten und das Karasuma Viertel erkundeten. Da unsere U-Bahn Karten eine Malfunktion hatten, fuhren wir zum Hauptbahnhof, um das Problem zu beheben.

Nach erfolgreichem Beheben des Problems hieß das nächste Ziel das Gion Viertel. Nach Bewunderung des Yasaka-Schreins liefen wir über die Hanamikoji Straße Richtung Kennin-Ji Tempel. Der älteste Zen Tempel Kyotos, im Kennin-Ji standen wir voller Ehrfurcht und besichtigten die Ausstellungsräume samt Decke der Drachenzwillinge und Gärten. Im Anschluss ging’s nach Sannenzaka ins Starbucks Nineizaka, der einzige Starbucks weltweit mit traditionell japanischer Tatami-Sitzboden. Wir tranken Kaffee und einen Karamell-Milkshake, probierten Earl-Grey Donuts und unterhielten uns lebhaft mit einer kanadischen Familie aus Toronto.

Gegen 17:00 Uhr marschierten wir hoch zum Kiyomizu-dera Tempel auf dem westlichen Hang Kyotos und besuchten wunderschön bemalte Tempelgebäude, die im Wald verstreut waren. Wir machten beide einige Bilder und liefen schließlich zur U-Bahn Station, als letzte Station des Tages war nämlich das Shinto-Schrein „Fushimi Inari-Taisha“ angesagt. Berühmt für seine tausenden roten Tori-Tore, schlenderten wir vorerst in der Dämmerung durch die Tore. Webster wollte jedoch unbedingt nach oben und (was wir erst im Nachhinein rausfinden) hieß dies 300 Höhenmeter und durchnässte T-Shirts. Zumindest hatten wir nicht mehr 36^C und unversöhnlichen Sonnenschein. Zum Abendessen ging’s 21:00 Uhr in der Nähe des Hotels erneut in ein Ramen-Restaurant, wo es köstliches Ramen und frittiertes Hühnchen gab. Gerade schauen wir Formel 1 und ruhen unsere Beine aus, die heute verrückte 22km mitmachen mussten. Gute Nacht und einen guten Wochenstart!

Day 27. July 30, 2023

22 kilometers on the odometer. After our marathon day yesterday, we didn't leave the house until 11:00 a.m. We were both in a deep sleep, much-needed rest. First, we went to the Pokémon Shop, where various memorabilia of the Japanese series were sold. Can you recognize a few Pokémons? Then, we headed to the Nishiki Market, where we tasted Gyoza dumplings, checked out various fish stands, and explored the Karasuma District. As our subway cards malfunctioned, we went to the main station to fix the problem.

After successfully resolving the issue, our next destination was the Gion District. After admiring the Yasaka Shrine, we walked along Hanamikoji Street towards the Kennin-Ji Temple. The oldest Zen temple in Kyoto, we stood in awe at Kennin-Ji and visited the exhibition rooms with the Twin Dragon ceiling and gardens. Next, we went to Starbucks Nineizaka in Sannenzaka, the only Starbucks worldwide with traditional Japanese tatami seating. We had coffee and a caramel milkshake, tried Earl Grey Donuts, and had a lively conversation with a Canadian family from Toronto.

Around 5:00 p.m., we walked up to the Kiyomizu-dera Temple on the western slope of Kyoto and visited beautifully painted temple buildings scattered in the forest. We took some pictures and finally headed to the subway station, as the last stop of the day was the Shinto shrine "Fushimi Inari Taisha." Famous for its thousands of red torii gates, we strolled through the gates in the twilight. However, Webster insisted on going to the top, and (as we later found out) this meant climbing 300 meters in elevation and ending up with soaked t-shirts. At least, it wasn't 36°C and scorching sunshine anymore. For dinner, we went to a ramen restaurant near the hotel at 9:00 p.m., where we enjoyed delicious ramen and fried chicken. Right now, we are watching Formula 1 and resting our legs after the crazy 22km they endured today. Good night and have a great start to the week!

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fabulous-fic-quotes · 8 months

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That's all sh#t, Saotome, because by definition living hurts; whether we do something or nothing is irrelevant to this fact. Someone else will always be hurt simply because you exist. There's no way that the Art and its archaic justice principles or anything else in the world can change that simple, cold, hard, and nasty fundamental truth about how things are. We talked about this last night. The world does not bloom without rain. Beauty does not exist without pain. You might as well do what you can to claim your own fair share of happiness."

The Stage at Kiyomizu-dera - Kandinsky's Lyric

#ranma 1/2 #ranma saotome #nabiki tendo #fic quotes #fic recs #alternative universe #post canon #not cannon compliant #piece of wisdom #piece of wisdom from nabiki tendo #I admit that i love ranma/nabiki fics #even if they are not a popular couple #this fic tho...#its just full of life lessons and introspection

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jieunnay · 1 year

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❆❅Penyesalan❅❆

Ori by: @jieunnay

Part 2

Keesokan harinya…

Riana pulang sekolah lebih cepat hari ini. Ia sungguh senang, tapi sungguh kesal juga. Senang karena ia bisa beristirahat lebih banyak, kesal karena jam pulangnya merupakan jam kehadiran para pengemis harian itu.

Baru saja Riana melangkah menuju teras rumah, pengemis itu hadir kembali. Riana yang merasa diganggu pun akhirnya melangkah cepat menuju rumahnya.

“Heh! Bisa ga sih kalian ga usah ikutin aku?! Risih tau diikutin kalian!” seru Riana sambil berpose mengusir.

“Tolong kami lah, nak. Saya dan kedua cucu saya dari kemarin belum makan. Hanya makan setengah potong roti aja. Itu belum bisa bikin kami kenyang, nak.” Sang pengemis memohon, membuat Riana makin naik pitam.

“Pergi sana! Aku capek lihat kalian tiap hari minta-minta! Aku capek denger suara tangisan dari bocah-bocah ini! Huh!” Riana langsung membuka pintu rumahnya. Menutupnya rapat-rapat serta menguncinya.

Di rumah, Riana hanya tinggal bersama pembantunya dari pagi hingga malam ataupun larut, karena orang tuanya yang bekerja dari pagi hingga malam, bahkan terkadang ketika Riana sudah tidur, kedua orang tuanya baru sampai rumah.

Pembantu Riana juga ternyata tidak menyukai keberadaan pengemis itu di rumah. Dengan pengemis saja ia tidak suka, apalagi pengemis dengan anak kecil. Penyakit darah tingginya bisa kumat.

Ping!

Sebuah notifikasi pesan baru saja masuk di ponsel Riana. Ternyata ia baru saja dikirimi pesan oleh Chika, sahabatnya yang tinggal satu perumahan dengannya.

Chika: “Hai, Riana”

Chika: “Kamu pasti didatengin sama pengemis itu, yhaa?”

Riana: “Iyah, Chik. Aku cape banget”

Chika: “Hahaha sama. Soalnya sekarang mereka lagi ada di teras aku, Na”

Riana: “Ealah. Usir aja mereka! Lagian apa gunanya sih mereka minta-minta ke kita?”

Chika: “Ga usah, ah. Diemin aja, nanti mereka juga cape sendiri”

Riana: “Oke. Semoga berhasil!”

Chat berakhir. Riana mematikan ponselnya lalu segera mengambil buku novelnya.

•••

Empat hari berlalu. Pengemis yang sama masih terus mendatangi kediaman Riana. Kediaman Chika pun bernasib sama. Kalian tahu? Riana dan Chika mempunya kebiasaan buruk yang sama saat ada pengemis datang ke rumah mereka, yaitu menghardiknya.

Namun akhir-akhir ini, pengemis tersebut tidak datang lagi ke rumah Riana. Bahkan, berkunjung ke perumahan itu saja tidak, apalagi mendatangi rumah Riana. Gadis itu merasa aneh, tapi justru senang karena dirinya tidak lagi diganggu oleh pengemis beserta dua anak itu.

Keesokan harinya…

Hari ini harusnya menjadi hari yang baik bagi Riana karena ini adalah hari Sabtu dimana ia bisa bebas rebahan sepanjang hari. Namun, sesuatu yang menyedihkan telah terjadi.

Riana baru saja keluar dari rumahnya untuk menghirup udara segar pagi hari. Namun, dirinya dikejutkan dengan sebuah keramaian di sebuah gang kecil di depan perumahannya.

“Ada apaan tuh? Kok rame banget?” tanya Riana dalam hati.

“Rianaaa!!”

Secara mendadak, Chika berlari sambil menangis lalu memeluk Riana erat-erat.

“Chika! Kenapa ini? Kenapa kamu nangis?” tanya Riana yang heran dengan kelakuan sahabatnya itu.

“Riana, a-aku nyesel banget…” ucap Chika sembari terisak.

“Nyesel karena apa, Chika? Plis, ngomongnya jangan setengah-setengah,” Riana panik.

“P-pengemis t-tua yang sering.. ngedatengin kita itu.. t-te-ternyata.. dia udah meninggal karena kelaperan..” jawab Chika dengan isak tangis yang masih belum bisa ia tahan.

DUARR! Kilatan petir mulai menyambar-nyambar hati Riana. Pengemis yang selama ini ia maki, ia hina, dan ia usir. Yang selama ini mendatangi rumahnya, kini telah pergi untuk selama-lamanya. Meninggalkan kedua cucunya yang masih kecil. Betapa kejam dirinya yang selalu menghardik pengemis tua itu atau bahkan pengemis-pengemis lain yang mendatangi rumahnya.

Riana merasakan dadanya sesak. Matanya mulai memerah. Air matanya mulai menetes dan mengalir deras di kedua pipinya. Rasa menyesal mulai menghantui hati kecilnya. Penyesalan atas kekejaman yang telah ia perbuat kepada pengemis itu hingga kelaparan dan akhirnya meninggal.

“Chika..”

“Bawa aku ke gang itu…”

Sampailah Riana dan Chika di depan gang tempat si pengemis tinggal. Tampak banyak orang di sana. Kini Riana sadar, bahwa penyesalan selalu datang di akhir. Ia begitu menyesal. Seandainya dirinya dulu dengan berbaik hati memberi makan pengemis itu, ia pasti tidak akan menerima kabar sepahit ini lalu menyesalinya.

Riana dan Chika menangis sembari berpelukan. Mereka berjanji akan selalu berbuat baik kepada orang lain termasuk kepada pengemis-pengemis yang sering lewat dan mendatangi rumah mereka.

~End~

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contoounaoconto · 9 months

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Decidida alcançou o telefone e pôs-se a discar aqueles três números. 1. Suava frio, seus dedos deslizavam sobre o discador. 9. Não esperava que aquilo fosse acontecer naquele dia, nada havia planejado, antes imaginara roteirizando passo a passo cada cena de seu ato final. 0. Discado o último número não poderia voltar atrás. Já não mais respirava. O telefone chamava. Seu corpo tremia agonizando mais e mais a cada tum… tum…

- Polícia Militar Emergência.

- Boa noite. Preciso confessar um crime.

- Nome Completo - pedia o policial do outro lado da linha.

- Cecília Álvares Nóbrega.

- Vá em frente. Vou anotando.

- Foi hoje mesmo, há algumas horas. Nove e vinte e sete. Me sinto muitíssimo arrependida. Não era minha intenção inicial. Me exaltei, confesso. Você sabe, esse calor mexe com a gente. Mentiria se dissesse que nunca desejei fazer isso. Incontáveis vezes idealizei esse dia, mas ele chegou tão rápido, veio sem avisar. Uma visita inesperada nem sempre é algo bom, o senhor pode imaginar. Pior ainda, esse sentimento me invadiu sem nem ao menos bater na porta. Fui tomada por essa energia estranhíssima e antes mesmo de eu tentar me acalmar, já tinha feito. Ponto de não retorno. Não quero me demorar, vamos aos pormenores. - parecia ter deixado de lado sua aflição, narrava o episódio concentrada - Quando cheguei do trabalho, pareceu-me agradável ir até ao mercado da esquina comprar uma garrafa de vinho. Tinto, meu preferido. Demorei de me acostumar com o gosto, hoje não vivo sem. Peguei um maço de cigarros, adquirira o hábito de fumar no último mês. Meu trabalho continuava as exaurir e na nicotina encontrava algum conforto. Na fila do caixa, embaixo dos chicletes, ao lado dos preservativos, avistei uma lâmina de barbear. As minhas estavam todas enferrujadas, mal cortavam. Precisava me depilar, Havia marcado um encontro pro domingo, não poderia aparecer cheia de pelos. Peguei, paguei o que tinha pegado e voltei ao meu apartamento.

- Senhora, vá direto ao ponto. Nenhuma dessas informações são relevantes à polícia.

- Não me apresse, por favor. Essas poucas horas foram as mais importantes de toda a minha vida. Continuando… De volta em casa, coloquei as compras na poltrona e decidi tocar um disco que meu pai me dera no meu aniversário de vinte anos. Uma banda irlandesa, me fazia recordar da época em que ainda estava vivo. Deitada no sofá, cantarolei aquelas melodias por mais de uma hora, até que ouvi minha barriga roncar e percebi que estava morrendo de fome. Abri a minha geladeira. Vazia. Barriga vazia. Mente vazia. Me contentei com o vinho, que nessa hora pouco restava. O álcool fazia efeito e aos poucos começava a sentir alguma coisa. Abri o maço de cigarros quando a garrafa se esvaziou. Acendi um, dois, três… perdi as contas. Na varanda, observava as pessoas que passavam na rua. Uma idosa caminhando sozinha uma hora dessas, pensei, deve ter perdido o juízo. Desde as eleições passadas a cidade se tornou perigosíssima. Entediada, resolvi ouvir as mensagens deixadas na caixa postal. A primeira era de minha mãe.

Cecília, minha querida, como anda? Há tanto tempo não nos vemos. Mamãe está com saudade. Estou tentando te telefonar já há algumas horas. Venho te convidar para a missa de 5 anos da morte do seu pai. Vai ser nesse sábado na Catedral Santo Antônio. Chegue lá pelas onze horas, preciso conversar com você. 5 anos. Parece que faz décadas, você não acha? Aquele dia terrível, fui tão triste. Um acidente, ninguém poderia prever, isso foi o que me disseram. Eu penso o contrário. Todos nós odiávamos ele ao menos um pouquinho, isso você deve concordar. De qualquer modo, teremos tempo pra discutir sobre isso antes da missa. Quem sabe dessa vez você não deixa escapar algum detalhe. Beijinhos. Até lá.

Ela é assim, seu tom passivo agressivo sempre presente. Evito todo e qualquer tipo de contato. Não a vejo pessoalmente desde o enterro. No dia que meu pai morreu estávamos sozinhos em casa, eu e ele. Minha mãe tinha ido até a casa de uma amiga, talvez a única que possuía na época. Guardo apenas flashes do ocorrido. Meu pai gritando. A fumaça tomando conta da casa. Eu correndo até o quintal. Pude me salvar, já meu pai foi encontrado morto horas depois nos escombros do sobrado. Nada foi salvo. O incêndio parece ter sido atroz. Mais tarde me disseram ter sido um milagre eu ter saído viva. De qualquer forma, minha mãe sempre me culpou pelo acidente. É óbvio que ela nunca falou isso de maneira explícita. Ela não é desse tipo. Mas nas entrelinhas me sentia apontada. Seu olhar me acusava. Eu não negava, ficava quieta. Como poderia me defender se não lembrava de nenhum detalhe, nada senão o fogo? Era exatamente isso que me incriminava. Semanas se passaram e eu não sentia nenhum luto, nenhum remorso. Eu não sentia nada. Sentia falta dele, isso sim. Ele se foi tão depressa, não pude nem me despedir. Depois que ouvi a mensagem na caixa postal, tive certeza. Ela me culpava por tudo aquilo. Pela primeira vez, comecei a me sentir mal. Coloquei em dúvida mais uma vez a minha culpa. Eu não poderia. Eu amava ele demais. Não poderia matá-lo, ele não. Repetia em voz baixa. Quando era mais nova, mamãe sabia me persuadir, sabia fazer com que eu cedesse às suas vontades e por mais que eu tentasse resistir naquele momento eu voltava a atendê-las. Eu era culpada. Se não eu, quem? Ouvia sua voz na minha cabeça, tentava tapar os meus ouvidos. O vazio me engolia, a escuridão tomava conta de cada milímetro do meu corpo. Eu me levantei, me olhei no espelho. Não me enxergava. A imagem refletida era a da minha mãe, ela me substituía. Já não era mais eu quem estava de pé sobre o tapete felpudo. Dei um grito. Me igualava à pessoa que eu mais desprezava em todo o mundo. A imagem monstruosa me encarava profundamente enquanto minhas pernas cambaleavam. Entrei em desespero. Espelho, eu te imploro, volte ao normal, volte a mostrar a minha imagem, eu gritava. Porém, olhei para as minhas mãos e elas também estavam mudadas, pareciam mais velhas, enrugadas. Unhas pintadas, esmalte cor de café. Eram também as mãos da minha mãe. Eu gritava mais e mais alto, minha respiração descompassada, meu coração ameaçava sair pela boca. Foi você, meu reflexo repetia. Você matou o meu marido, o seu próprio pai, como pode? Seu monstro! Chega. Eu não aguentava mais. Você se lembra das lâminas de barbear que eu havia comprado mais cedo? Elas foram a solução. Arranquei-as da embalagem e num único golpe rasguei a minha mãe da minha face, cortei-a dos meus pulsos. Era necessário que cortasse cada expressão daquele ser humano odioso. Precisava matá-la dentro de mim antes que fosse tarde demais. Foram inúmeros cortes, por todo o meu corpo. O sangue jorrava, sujava o tapete felpudo. Ainda sinto a dor, mas ela é ainda mais fraca do que a dor que senti quando me olhei no espelho e a vi na minha imagem. Por isso, estou confessando, confesso o meu crime. Não pude evitar, senhor policial, sabia que isso aconteceria uma hora ou outra. Já me corrijo, não me arrependo do que fiz. Na verdade, nunca estive mais feliz. Eu matei a minha mãe, matei-a de mim…

- Minha senhora, devo encaminhar-te a outro tipo de profissional. Chamarei uma ambulância, me passe já o seu endereço.

- Me dê um segundo, sinto cheiro de algo queimando. Não me lembro de ter ligado o fogão.

Cecília, ao correr até a cozinha, notou o fogo se alastrando por toda a parte. À medida que se aproximava a fumaça adentrava seus pulmões, se combinava a sua hemoglobina e ela perdia suas forças. Caiu no chão. O fogo penetrava nas suas feridas. O espelho se estraçalhou. O tapete felpudo se queimou. Se aproximava de seu pai, se afastava de sua mãe.

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broderek · 1 year

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Bäst av bästklubben 2022 del 1

Animal Collective - Time Skiffs N: Gamla vänner som jag trodde mig vara trött på. Känns bekant utan att fördenskull bli gammal skåpmat. Bra driv, stundtals funkig med många hooks. Precis som man vill att gamla vänner ska vara.

Hinako Omori - a journey.. T: Detta har varit min go to skiva hela året. Att lyssna på denna i urar från början till slut är en fröjd och en härlig resa. Så härlig atmosfär så håret reser sig. Bästa spår: A Journey och Snow

Caroline - Caroline P: En viss nostalgi över att lyssna på den här skivan då soundet tar en tillbaka till ca: 2008. Lite Beirut, ambient, jazz, pop och folk. Många fina låtar där framförallt en är min favoritlåt för året 2022. Om ni bara ska lyssna på en låt: Skydiving onto the library roof

Dungen - En är för mycket och tusen aldrig nog M: Riktigt gamla vänner. Känns som de går tillbaka några år soundmässigt. Man får vad man vill ha och håller fortfarande. Gillar låtraden ”det finns ingen sanning, bara historier” på låten Om det finns något som du vill fråga mig. R: Genom våra säsonger har vi inte haft så värst mycket svensk musik, så jag tyckte det kändes kul att plocka upp den tråden trots att vi på sistone har fått en rätt några svenska akter och Toffe plocka med Jonathan Johansson på sin lista. Jag valde att plocka med en förvaltare av något jag uppfattar som vårt musikarv. Dels ligger där en äldre arv med vår folkmusik, dess skalor, men även mycket från den svenska proggen på 70-talet, nu kan ni nog gissa. Tycker alltid att det även finns en mängd andra influenser i musiken, gamla och nya, samt att texterna alltid är tänkvärda vardagsbetraktelser av livet. Skivan är Dungens - En är för mycket och tusen aldrig nog. Dungen är verkligen är alltid ett kärt återseende för mig.

Richard Dawson - The Ruby Cord O: Lite av en ny favorit för mig. Egensinnig gubbe i gränslandet mellan rocker och medeltida bard. Klingar starkt av urbrittisk folk och prog, men utan retrovurmande klichéer - temat här för den som går igång på sådant dessutom snarare framtidsdystopiskt. Triggervarning för mastig dubbel-LP, men rekommenderar att slå er ner med albumets öppning och magnum opus, The Hermit. En långsam berättelse stöpt i ett luftigt och frisläppt arrangemang, där bitarna som till en början kan kännas chansartade till slut faller på plats. Avnjuts med en stor, stark stout.

Katy Kirby - Cool Dry Place (Expanded version släppt 2022...) P: Soft-pop när den är som allra bäst. Den här skivan välkomnade jag våren i Sthlm med. Många tidiga morgnar på tunnelbanan med solen i ögonen över Skanstulls-bron. Skivan kan te sig mjuk vid första lyssningar men växer över tid med små finesser och melodier. Väl värd att checka in. Om ni bara ska lyssna på en låt: Traffic!

Cult Of Luna - The Long Road North D: Årets bästa och fetaste skiva kommer här, episk, grandios och hänsynslös välter den fram med en massiv ljudbild. En dynamisk ångvält av norrländskt vemod. Bara lyssna på mistluren som inleder skivan.

Shabason & Krgovich - At Scaramouche T: En stor favorit från detta året. Lyssna gärna på deras egna projekt som de gjort tidigare. Hade tänkt att köra denna skiva i klubben men nu fick den hamna här istället. Gillar verkligen detta; snygg ljudbild, lite skeva ljud, djup och nära sång och bra melodier. Favoritlåtar: Childhood Mcdonald's och I Am So Happy With My Little Dog.

Oren Ambarchi - Shebang O: Denna dök upp påpassligt medan jag var inne i ett Keith Jarrett-stim. Påminner en del om ECM och elektriska Miles. En gitarrskiva som inte direkt låter som en gitarrskiva. Det är repetitivt, aldrig enformigt, föränderligt och och fyllt av bra ljud som sveper in och ut från en ensemble som känns live men aldrig varit det. Har man hört Ambarchis tidigare är det nog bekant mark, men här kompletteras den drivande pulsen ännu mer av övriga musikers inspel, vilket gör den delvis till ett annat väsen. En skiva man kan återkomma till och hitta små nya detaljer i.

Decapitated - Cancer Culture D: Nästa skiva är smålökig modern Tech Death, men de har dels lyckats få fram samma ös och teknisk ekvilibrism som på genombrottet 2006 trots att flera bandmedlemmar är utbytta, men det är också den perfekta mixen av det bästa med både Göteborg-och Stockholmsdöds. Ett väl förvaltat arv av såväl At The Gates som Entombed som gör att jag kan leva med de gästande sångarnas malplacerade skönsång, önskar att de bara låtit Jinjer leverera growl.

#Spotify

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