#tagalog words

[the-overthinking-chair]

hiwaga

: magic

GIF: Josh is dressed like a magician onstage; his jacket, bowtie, and top hat are lined with blue glitter. The camera zooms into Josh's hand as glowing spots of blue emanate from him. He throws the blue spots around and they begin to dominate the screen just as the grey curtain behind him drops, unveiling the rest of the stage.

[kryptored]

Bahaghari (Rainbow)

A recommendation: listen to "1 Hour of Ethereal Remix by A.Krishna (Claire De Lune, Once Upon a Dream, Arabesque, Reverie....)" by crachead on Youtube. Specifically, a part of this fic was written side-by-side with one of the songs in the list. If you have the time, as soon as you get to "It sounds like…", switch to "Once Upon A December" from Anastasia, which starts at 9:07. This only lasts for the entire paragraph, but I hope I was able to write the mood well enough for you to enjoy.

Late happy birthday (chapter) fic for Fran.

AO3

Chapter 2: kahel (orange)

6:30pm and the sun is setting. The number of boarding passengers has slowly dwindled to a trickle, leaving buses partly full on a late Wednesday afternoon. Luka boards the bus just as the sun has painted itself with soft shades of oranges among the reds and yellows. And as a tinge of pink starts bleeding from the puffs of red, the sky starts reminding him of peaches that he now yearns to bite into. He enters the bus and sees passengers evenly spread out among the seats of the vehicle. He makes way to stand near a bus stanchion and grabs onto it, not too tired to stay up on his feet for the whole ride. The bus lifts itself up from the road and drives off to its next stop.

Luka’s eyes settle among the passengers, a habit that he has come to do to pass the time when left without a guitar to play with. He always has the option to use his phone hiding in his back pocket, but decides to rest his eyes from the device for at least the rest of the ride home.

On the other side of the bus, seated at one of the priority seats, is a mother in a créme-coloured hijab holding onto a baby stroller, a smile on her face as she coos at her sleeping baby. He makes eye contact with the mother, offers her a small smile, and receives one back from her. Just a row behind the seats across from him is an elderly couple sharing a bag of pretzels, and when they meet eyes with him, offer the bag towards him. He raises an open hand and shakes his head to turn down their generous offer, smiling again to make it seem that he appreciates it nonetheless. In the seat adjacent to them is a sleeping Filipino lady, her head leaning against the window, her hands hugging a backpack to her chest and still in her light pink scrub suit. At the very back, there sits a group of two black teenage girls and a boy, huddling around a magazine. When they look up and meet his eyes, the girls nervously giggle and the boy gives him an awkward smile (he suspects from embarrassment), before lowering their heads back down onto the magazine. He lets out a small chuckle at their antics, before turning to the lady sitting just a few seats in front of them, a bag seated right beside her.

She sits beside the window, where the orange hue passes through the glass and frames her face with the honeyed glaze of the late afternoon sun. Her head is turned and looking out the window, and wisps of her stray hair tenderly brush against the skin of her cheek, before she tucks them behind her ear. When she closes her eyes as the bus passes by where the sun is still too bright, she tilts her head just so, as if basking under the remaining warmth that the star has to offer before the moon takes its place with the evening chill. From Luka’s standpoint, her dark hair now also burns into something close to auburn.

Luka knows that staring might not be the best thing to do, especially when there are strangers around him to call him out, but it is almost impossible to look away when she pulls him in without doing much. And when she smiles at something outside, something switches in his head and he hears music start to play.

It sounds like distant piano keys echoing from wall to wall, ringing from one ear to another. It starts slow, before each note starts chasing one after the other. The view from the outside blurs, while the music in his head becomes clearer and a little louder. It continues to echo and echo the longer he watches her hair fight for its freedom behind her ear, and the spotlight on her cheek makes the piano a little louder in his head. It drops to a lower note when the sun disappears, but picks its pace up once again as her eyes remain elsewhere but his. The bus increases its pace on its side of the road, and as it slows down to a stop, the notes begin to hesitate. The keys are more drawn out and return to echoing, to ringing, to nothing but a tinkle in the distance. They return to their home, somewhere in the corner of his head, and he is left with silence as he stands dumbfounded by her.

As soon as he sees her head turning towards him, Luka looks away immediately, afraid to give her the wrong impression, and fumbles with one hand to take his phone out. He only gives her a few peeks every now and then, until he hears the sound of someone pulling or pressing on the stop button. The bus slows and switches to the right lane, and Luka sees her rise from her seat, grab hold of her bag, and get off at her stop. He looks from behind the bus windows, drinking in the sight of her and ingraining every detail he can see into his mind, and as she walks into the pavement where there is more light from the setting sun, he can’t help but think that orange might be his new favourite colour.

He thinks to himself that if he keeps looking, maybe she might notice and look at him. He wants her to see him. He wants to see more of her, in case he won’t be able to anymore.

The bus lifts and starts rolling forward, and he keeps staring.

He keeps starting hoping she looks back.

She never does.

He lets out a disappointed sigh and stares out of the window the entire time before getting off his stop.

But he sees her again and again and again for about a month. It takes him another to finally get her name.

Marinette.

Love my work and have some spare change? Here's my ko-fi :) .

[ynaisboring]

Kung sasaya man ako ulit, sana sa tamang tao na.

[qetsiyaaah]

gigil

(n.) uncontrollable urge to pinch or squeeze someone

🎨 Prang Watercolor

📝 Canson WC Paper

🖌 Local 000 brush

[marialigaya]

may mga bagay na kailangan ng bitawan mga bagay na hindi pwedeng balikan mga tao na dapat ng kalimutan pero patuloy padin dapat ang buhay dapat walang sukuan kasi sa buhay na ito dapat lumaban lang dapat marunong kang pumusta kasi kung hindi matatalo ka.

— papatalo ka ba? // 8:39pm 03.18.19

[mayachims]

wala naman akong choice kundi ang maging okay para sa inyo

[thesickestlady]

✨ Ｍａｇａｎｄａｎｇ   ａｒａｗ   ｓａ   ｌａｈａｔ!    Ｐａｋａｔａｔａｇ ｌａｎｇ  ｔａｙｏ  ｍｇａ  ｐａｐｓ  ✨  

[bedazzlemyshizzle]

Iguguhit ko lahat ng bagay na nagpapaalala sa akin sayo Iguguhit ko bawat ngiti mo na nakatatak sa utak ko Iguguhit ko lahat ng masasayang araw noong meron pang tayo Iguguhit ko ang malulungkot na pinagdaanan bago tayo sumuko Iguguhit ko bawat halik Iguguhit ko bawat paghawak mo ng aking kamay Iguguhit ko bawat yakap dahil sa pagkasabik Iguguhit ko bawat pusong di mapalagay Iguguhit ko bawat awit na inawit Iguguhit ko bawat pelikulang nakita Iguguhit ko bawat anibersyong sumapit Iguguhit ko bawat detalye ng ating estorya Iguguhit ko bawat pagtatalo Iguguhit ko bawat tampuhan Iguguhit ko bawat natanggap na payo Iguguhit ko bawat bagay na pinagselosan Iguguhit ko kung san tayo naging malabo Iguguhit ko kung san oras natiy di mapagsabay Iguguhit ko kung san tayo tuluyang sumuko Iguguhit ko kung san tayo tuluyang naghilaway Iguguhit ko bawat pangakong napako Iguguhit ko ang mga araw na tila tayo ay walang ka alam alam Na ikaw at ako ay tuluyan ng nagbago At Iguguhit ko ang huli nating paalam Iguguhit ko lahat ng alaala Umaasang sa bawat linya, Sa bawat kulay na aking ipininta Sa bawat pagdapo ng lapis at sa bawat permanenteng tinta Ay unti unting mabura Ang memorya mong nakatatak sa isip at kaluluwa Na tila mas malinaw pa Sa dahilan kung ano nga ba ang nangyari sa ating dalawa -Guhit //kriscxrlee