#tim atoker

[jeremyheereismyson]

tim who sees something and thinks about his friends

when he sees a warm wooly sweater on sale, he thinks of martin and marches into the store to buy it for the lad

when he sees crusty old books, he thinks of jon and considers asking him to come with next because he knows jon will be interested in them

when he sees freshly cut sunflowers in a flower shop during his way to work, he thinks of sasha and buys a bouquet for her

sasha, albeit surprised at tim suddenly presenting her the bouquet with a wide grin, accepts them with a smile on her face

tim thinks her bright smile puts the sun in sunflowers

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Corrupted, Chapter Five: Found - a Malevolent x TMA Fic

Tim is depressed.

John is up to something.

Gertrude is here to make it worse

AO3

———-

A few kabobs later, Tim feels a little better. Stable blood sugar is a hell of a thing.

He still hates not being able to see. It’s awful. It’s terrifying. John is doing a really good job of keeping him safe, Tim tells himself this will be over soon because he has to—no matter how hard that is to believe.

Tim also tells himself not to think too much about Bouchard’s description of John.

That was… not a safe -sounding creature. And maybe Tim is just being some sort of speciesist, but he finds himself wondering yet again why John had been bound in a book. Job is inhuman. John is also manipulative and controlling, and Tim is more than fine with both of those things in certain circumstances, but depending on the guy to stay alive is definitely not one of them. 

What did he do that got him put in there?

It also brings to mind the question of what else is in there. Tim believes Bouchard. Something else is. He wonders if it’s safe in the backpack. “Hey, John?”

The shop we need is about twenty steps ahead and to your right. Yes?

“Is the book safe? Should I, like, wrap it in a belt, or something, so it doesn’t open in the bag?”

It won’t matter if it opens in the bag. It could fall down a cliff and flutter completely agape, revealing its inscriptions to the seagulls, and nothing would happen. It must be opened by a living, fully sapient being.

“Wow. If they could go that far to protect whatever’s in there, you’d think they’d put some kind of lock on it, yeah? A safeword, or something.”

John sounds amused. You mean a fail-safe? Or a password, perhaps?

“Sure, whatever. Still, that’s good to know. Wouldn’t want to release Cthulhu in the middle of London.”

No, we wouldn’t want to do that, says John with absolutely no inflection at all. Store to your right, now.

That wasn’t a spooky response at all. “What do you think he saw in the book?”

Nothing. There is nothing else bound here. He was fucking with us.

Sure.

Tim sighs and tries to get a hold of himself. John’s not Cthulhu, and whatever remains in the book isn’t, either, since Cthulhu was an old-timey story told by a crazy dead racist. (Speciesist, Tim’s brain adds.)  He’s safe, he tells himself. It’s still early morning, even if he can’t see the daylight. It’s not like weird gray-skinned monsters are going to come at him on a busy London street.

The store turns out to be a health-food, raw sugar, vitamins-the-size-of-thumbs kind of place. There, John directs him to buy just… stuff. A block of salt. Six small candles, unscented. Various herbs. A hand-built clay bowl. Matches. Distilled water. Rubbing alcohol. 

Then they leave. A Siri-search brings them to a hardware store, and John directs him to buy a length of rope, a hammer, six cleat hooks, and two copper pipes. 

Tim has played games and read books and seen movies, and cannot for the life of him figure out what all of this is supposed to do.

Very good, Tim, says John, who has obviously figured out Tim likes to be praised. Now we need a place to cast. I do not suggest your apartment, as we need to keep that location completely uncompromised. 

“Cast?”

Yes.

“I’m going to cast a spell?”

We are.

Tim gawks. “How?”

My power can just barely be lent to you—not much, or it would hurt you, or break your mind, and I have no desire to do either—but enough to cast a minor spell.

“Did you just say you can break my mind?”

Of course. 

Since last night, Tim’s been running from cultists, gray-skinned claw-monsters, an eyeball god and its creepy priest. He finally realizes he could be in serious danger from John. “Fucking spooky antler-genie,” he mutters as if it’s a joke, as if the threat hadn’t landed.

It landed.

Now, Tim, soothed John. If I were going to simply break you, I’d have done it already.

“Oh. Good,” said Tim. “Absolutely reassuring. Don’t take a job in any kind of therapy, yeah?”

I’ll keep it in mind. Angle right—you’re going to walk into a mailbox.

Tim sighed and adjusted. “So you’re going to cast magic through me. I’ll be actually magical for five minutes, or something.”

Less time than that. As I said, I don’t want to hurt you, and unless you have an affinity for magic, it would harm you with longer exposure.

“Yeah, I doubt I have an affinity for it.”

Well, we don’t know yet, do we? Have you ever tried to cast before?

Tim snorts. “Have I ever tried to cast the thing I didn’t believe in twelve hours ago? Yeah, no.”

Then we’re going to find out, and I’d rather that not result in your harm. Now, as I said: we need a place where we won’t be disturbed.

Tim thinks for a moment. His heart pings painfully, and he has to wipe his eyes again.

Tim?

“Sorry, just… Danny. Exploring derelict buildings was his last dumb hobby before whatever this one was. Urban exploration. He called it Urbex , and I made fun of him because that sounds like a drain cleaner, or something.” He laughs weakly. “I was merciless. Brothers. You know.”

I do know.

John has family. Wild. 

Tim keeps talking, and isn’t even sure why. “It’s what I thought he was still doing when he showed up ranting about cultists, but… anyway, he knew some places. We need to go back to my flat and get his laptop. For his pictures, and all of that.” His voice cracks.

Mister Smooth is back in the building. Of course, Tim. Whatever we need to do. 

“Look, don’t… don’t do that.”

Do what? Even smoother.

“You’ve got one hell of a set of pipes, and we both know it, but you whip out that voice every time I get upset. And I don’t think you’re doing it to comfort me.”

Why else would I be doing that, Tim?

It’s not a flat tone. John’s not angry.  Which is good, because Tim doesn’t want him angry. He needs John to fucking navigate. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to be manipulated. I know I’m all kinds of fucked right now, okay? Fragile. So maybe I’m being prickly, but…”

I have no reason to wish you any suffering, Tim. If I have chosen to speak to you in a soothing manner, perhaps you should ask yourself what it is I’m trying to achieve.

“To control me?” Tim says dryly.

Perhaps I merely wish to see you soothed, says John like oil on skin.

Tim rolls his eyes. “Right. The D.B. Cooper of the demon world wants me soothed. ”

Is it so hard to imagine I might prefer you happy?

What a fucking thing to say. “Maybe.” Like a thread in a sweater, pulling that sentence has begun to unravel a lot of things. 

When was Tim last happy?

Well. I do. Shall we go back to your apartment? 

It’s been a long time. At least since mum died. And after Danny… 

All of this should be more frightening than it is. It really should. Tim does not feel great; the numbness is worrying, or it should be. It isn’t, though. It isn’t.

He isn’t even feeling the kind of thrill he should that he might be able to do magic. That should be huge! Momentous! Incredible! Exciting! 

He doesn’t feel anything. “How depressed am I?” he murmurs.

What was that?

And Tim flips the humor switch, because he can deflect even better than the antlered monster in his head. “Are you telling me I could actually be a wizard some call Tim?”

John laughs. It’s a real laugh, not a chuckle—a deep and genuine guffaw. It’s also possibly the wickedest sound Tim has ever heard. There’s something terrible in it, cruel, a sound so bottomless he could fall into it forever.

“Shut up, you are not familiar with Monty Python, too,” says Tim, still deflecting.

Oh, Tim… the things I could tell you.

Was there a hint of regret in that tone again? “Okay,” says Tim, slowly. “So tell me.”

In time.

Sure. John was never going to tell him. “Let’s go the hell home. Need the map?”

No. Turn around. The closest stop that will take us back to Woking is four blocks behind us.

John remembered that?

Had he already been looking for a bus stop? Tim knows that if he’d been in the position of having to navigate through someone else’s eyes, he wouldn’t have been planning far enough ahead to catch that.

John is… scary smart, actually. Combining that with the manipulative tendencies, the bossiness, the obviously good memory…

Tim?

Tim knows he’s in danger. “Sorry. Right.” It should matter. It doesn’t.

A few more steps. Stop. It looks to me like a bus in our direction will be along in a few minutes. You’re going to be all right, Tim. 

“You don’t know that.”

How about this, then: you’ve shown yourself worthy of reward, in my eyes. I will see that you get it.

Right. After all the casual humor and the relatability of shared media, John has casually dropped another abjectly terrifying sentence. “Glad to know I’ve fit your standards?” Tim says after a moment. “Though there’s not a lot you can do to make that happen.”

Not yet. But the time is coming soon.

Oh, fuck me, Tim thinks. “Um… how?”

Would you like to know why I was in that book?

“You did promise you’d tell me that.”

Then let’s go back to your apartment and choose a location. We do this conjuring. If you handle the magic well, Tim, I’ll show you why.

Was it his imagination, or was something… bad about the way he said that? “And if I don’t handle it well?”

Then I will just tell you.

And John sounds like that would be disappointing.

Tim exhales slowly. He can’t ignore his instincts any longer. He is in trouble. ”So will this conjuring find some other power to help us? Something that’s not an eyeball.”

Something like that.

It’s logical, isn’t it? It was this or go back to Bouchard, and Tim would rather lick the sidewalk. “All right.”

Bus.

They’re both quiet on the way home. Without meaning to, Tim dozes until they’re about twenty minutes from his stop. 

John lets him rest.

#

Danny’s laptop has what they need. John describes a farm not far from Woking that’s been abandoned for a while, judging by Danny’s photos.

Oddly appropriate, John says as Tim eats the last of the peanut butter and drinks some water. Why, it’s even been a spot for some zombie movies. 

“Rusty farm equipment? An abandoned hangar? Perfect place to do some magic.” And Tim says what he knows he’s supposed to say: “I hope I have an affinity. I mean. That would just be neat, you know?”

Oh, so do I, says John, and there is something hungry about it.

Tim can’t bring himself to care.

#

It really feels, he thinks as he trespasses in broad daylight, like he is soil that’s been tilled. He’s still and quiet and ready for planting—but on his own, he’s functionally dead.

Depressed, he thinks, which is true. He’s slipping back into the bad place he’s been in since Danny’s death—the place he was only briefly pulled from by fear and adrenaline.

He feels neither now.

There seems to be no security on this run-down, abandoned farm. John spots the hangar—a traditional arch-style steel building. Keep going. We’re heading right for it.

It is, Tim thinks, the perfect place for a murder, and he wonders why he’s still going along with this.

Yes, he might do magic. That’s a great lure, isn’t it? Who wouldn’t want that, especially after the events of the last day?

But something doesn’t add up. Tim’s gut says this is a trap, and he’s walking right into it.

It’s not like he’s stuck. He could turn around. Leave. If John refuses to help him anymore, he could just call the fucking police, a medic, something.

Hell, he could even call Bouchard.

He has options, even if they’re not great. Why is he still going along with this?

“I really am depressed,” he verbalizes after a moment.

Oh?

John sounds chipper.

I am definitely walking to my death,  Tim thinks, and still isn’t sure why. Then he decides, fuck it , and shoots his shot. “I’m about to die, aren’t I?”

John is silent for one, long beat. What makes you say that?

Ah-ha. Flat tone. 

Score one for intuition, Tim thinks. “Don’t know that I care as much as I should, is all. Hence the ‘depressed’ comment.”

Tim. I’m not going go to hurt you.  What makes you say that? Two steps left; there’s some piece of rusted metal sticking out of the ground.

John didn’t deny this would kill him, either. 

He navigates, and figures out what's wrong as the question leaves his mouth. “This conjuring is supposed to help, right? So why didn’t we do this first?”

The pause is so slight that if Tim hadn’t been listening for it, he wouldn’t have caught it. We probably should have. I’d hoped you already had a resource we could use without risking you.

“No. You’re too smart for that. Wanna know what I think? I think the second those eye-worshiping freaks saw you, you panicked, and the gloves came off. Whatever this is, it’s a last resort,” says Tim. 

Such a smart young man.Regretful again. Just the type of acolyte I prefer.

“Deflecting. Also, not an acolyte.”

Not yet. 

“Not ever. I’m not the priest type, accidental or otherwise.”

Yet you’re doing something at my request when you say you think it will kill you, says John casually.

Tim doesn’t know how to explain.

For some reason, the image of a life stretching before him—empty, no Danny—working some stupid job, going home to an empty apartment, rinse and repeat for the next sixty years, seems untenable. Absolutely distasteful, obscene.

Tim keeps walking, crunching through winter grass, hands in his pockets, backpack heavy. He sighs. “Are we there yet?”

Almost. So: you think you’ll die, and you’re still going through with it?

“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t care.” That’s the truth, too.

I’m not going to hurt you, Tim.

So whatever this is will be painless. Tim believes him. I got Cthulhu’s favor, lucky me, he thinks, and almost laughs. There were worse ways to go. Being beaten to death in an alley by cultists, for example.

And hey, John also hasn’t actually said it would kill him, either. Maybe it won’t, and all this drama is for nothing.

Maybe John’s not sure what it will do. That’s an odd thought to have.

We’re inside.

“Do I even get to know what spell this does?”

Possibly nothing. As I said—if you have no magical affinity, it’s a nonstarter.

“What happens if I am magical?”

It’s dark. Give me a moment to see… ah. Perfect. Ahead of you, Tim, is a space that probably held farm equipment once, but now, it’s only got junk around the perimeter—a hand truck, a suspiciously stained armchair, an unsafe ladder. Move straight ahead, slowly.

So John wasn’t going to tell him what it did. If Tim were playing this in a game, he’d have some guesses about his body and John’s place in it. Though maybe not; it’s a good human body, but a far cry from what Bouchard described John once having. 

If Tim was right, though, would he still be inside it when all was said and done? He suspects he’ll just be gone. Maybe he’d go to wherever Danny is. That doesn’t seem so bad. “Where do we go when we die?” he says.

We go to the Dark World.

“What’s that? All of us?”

All.

“Good, bad, ugly?”

There is one world that accepts all after death, and that is its name.

Sounds a lot simpler than he’d feared. “It’s a whole world? Can you travel there? Leave?”

Some can. Flat. Why?

“Have you  been there?” Tim says.

No, and I don’t ever intend to go. Tim, this is the spot.

And this is the moment of decision. “What’s this going to do, John? Really.”

I told you. Help. Take the rope out first.

Tim decides to do it.

Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe it won’t kill him. Or maybe he’s leaping off a cliff, chasing Danny, chasing anything to feel something other than numb inside. Either way… yeah. He’s depressed, and going along with it because it’s the direction he was already moving. “Sure.”

Good. As best you can, lay it out in a circle. I know that will be a challenge since you can’t see, but together, we’ll figure it out.

“Sure.”

The bowl goes in the exact center; inside that is distilled water, and then the block of salt. 

The six candles are placed equidistant inside the rope. The hooks, equidistant outside it. 

The herbs are scattered over the whole thing, rubbed to small, irregular pieces between his fingers, and—he thinks—staining his hands.

The hammer is left beside the bowl—apparently, it doesn’t matter exactly where, though Tim gets the weird feeling it is within reach .

The pipes are placed by the bowl, pointing north to south above, and east to west alongside. Then Tim opens the rubbing alcohol, and, per instructions, leaves it open just outside the nearest hook.

“Well, it sounds cool,” he says, trying to picture it all in his mind.

Are you ready, Tim?

John is eager.

“Hold on. I can’t see, and I don’t want to fucking trip.” Tim carries his backpack a little distance away, leaving it by the manky old armchair. Then he returns to the circle.

He sighs. Maybe for the last time. Maybe it’ll all be over. He'd like to rest, if he's honest. Maybe Danny's got a new hobby in the Dark World. Tim wipes his eyes. “I'm ready,” he says, and he means it.

I won’t hurt you. Step inside the rope.

Tim wonders if there’s anyone he should say goodbye to.

No one comes to mind. That’s not great, but it fits this moment. Tim takes a breath and steps.

The gunshot is so sudden, so startling, that he jerks back and falls over sideways, knocking over the bottle of rubbing alcohol, startled into pounding heart and gasps.

What the fuck? Tim, it’s that woman!

“What woman?” he says, scrambling backwards.

“Sorry for interrupting,” says a voice he heard earlier today.

It’s that old lady. The one from the Institute who’d been about to do something before Bouchard intervened.

“What the fuck, she followed us? ” Tim blurts.

“I did indeed,” says the woman. “Calm down, now. This is happening no matter what, I think you know, but it doesn’t have to be painful.”

Tim feels like he’s been hit by a baseball bat, right in the head. “What? What’s happening? What are you talking about?”

Fuck. She’s got a gun trained on us, and her hand is steady. Fuck. We’re too far away to get to her.

“I haven’t seen a ritual quite like this before,” says the woman. “I’m surprised you’re trying it all on your own. They usually need more people.”

“What?” says Tim, who no longer feels like he was hit by a bat, but rather by a different genre of literature entirely. “What the hell are you talking about? What do you want?”

“What do you serve?” she says.

A beat.

“Huh ?” says Tim.

“I can see that thing in your head. I simply don’t recognize it. Let’s have no nonsense, now. What do you serve?”

She… she’s fully armed. The gun’s not all she has. I can see two knives, another gun, and the pockets of her jacket carry slim books that… oh. Power is wafting off them. Tim, be careful.

“Okay,” says Tim, still on the ground, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding, here. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

She sighs.

She’s raising the gun!

“Wait, look, I’m not serving anything!” Tim shouts.

“What. Is in. Your head.” 

“I don’t know!” 

She almost sounds pitying. Almost. “You probably know my reputation. One way we do this will be painless and quick. The other will not. I do hate that second way, but if you force my hand, that's on you. So, one last time: what is in your head?”

She sounds like a grandmother.

She sounds like a schoolteacher.

And suddenly—

Without warning—

Out of nowhere—

Tim is furious.

Enraged. 

Frothing.  

So many things have tried to kill or eat him in the last day that it’s abruptly become absurd. The fact that the Cthulhu in his head is offering the merciful option compared to this random woman is enough to make him feel insane.

“You can go fuck yourself!” he says.

Tim!

“Your reputation?” Tim continues. “What the hell? I don’t know your reputation! I don’t have a clue who you are! What, does Bouchard have a pet serial killer, for some reason? Go to hell!”

Tim, I doing know what’s gotten into you, but calm down . We can’t do anything if you—

She is completely unmoved. “Tell me, when I kill you, will it die?” she says.

“How the fuck should I know? He’s been there for, like, twelve hours!”

“You poor thing.” And now, she almost sounds compassionate. Almost. “It’s taken your reason, not only your sight. I wonder if there’s any of you left in there at all? Well, no matter. Move away from the circle, please.”

Still down, Tim scrambles backwards through scraggly grass and litter, puffing angrily, helpless and enraged.

If he had a bomb right now, he’d blow it.

If he had an axe, he’d throw it.

It’s the most he’s felt anything since Danny died, and he’s drowning.

He can hear her inspecting the items he put down. “What was this going to do, exactly?” says the woman. “Not that it matters, but all knowledge is good knowledge, as it were.”

“Fuck you, I don’t the hell know,” he snarls.

What is the matter with you? You’re smarter than this! Stop antagonizing her! 

“And you were doing it anyway?” she says, and there is such contempt in her voice, such utter, disrespectful dismissal, like he’s a child, like he has no reason to feel the way he does or be depressed or want the hurt to end.

How dare she judge him?

How dare anyone? 

She doesn’t know what he’s been through.

She doesn't know what he’s lost.

She’s writing her own narrative all over his life like some kind of terrible graffiti artist.

“Fuck you!” he says again.

Tim��

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” she says, clearly amused with herself.

Tim’s hand touches the armchair, and he stills. He’d accidentally scuttled right up against it. That means his backpack is in reach.

He can hear her messing with the salt, the water, and the bowl, the very center of the setup. That means she’s not looking his way.

As quietly as he can, Tim reaches around and takes out the book.

Tim! Don’t!

John wouldn’t tell him what the spell was for. Tim is mad about that, too.

(This is a bad idea. This won’t make it better.)

He knows that. He can’t care.

His world fell apart, he discovered magic, he lost his sight, he’s possessed, and elderly Lara Croft has decided to stop him from making the one choice he actually wanted to make?

Rage. This is rage. And it is divine. 

Tim!

She must have looked up. “Drop it!” she snaps, as if he’s a brat with a slingshot.

That, in the moment, is why he opens the book.

#

It’s the third time he’s opened it.

The first gave him John. The second called gray-skinned monsters to his parents’ house. The third seems to summon a storm.

Unable to see, he cannot grasp what is happening. Something immediately buffets him—something like wind but not, something like heat but not—expanding so fast that its bulk shoves him across the weed-strewn ground until he slams against the corrugated wall.

She tries to shoot it, whatever it is.

Fuck! John is shouting. Fuck! Go right! There’s a table! Tip it over and we’ll have some shelter, you fucking idiot! What’s wrong with you? Are you out of your fucking mind?

Tim scrambles where told, pushing against what feels like excess gravity, and finds the table—just one of those cheap folding deals, probably nothing that will protect him from anything, but what does he have to lose? He tips it over and throws himself behind.

I thought you were smart , John is snarling. Thought you might be worth a little kindness, though it would cost me , but no! Whatever mercy you earned has dried up!

(That hurts, it does, but only for a moment as that tiny grief is burned up in his rage.)

As if anything John says could upset Tim now. He laughs, cackling like a fire, and stays behind his table on purpose so John can’t see what’s happening.

The woman is shouting—not spells, nothing like that, but certainly not in pain, either. In fact, it sounds like she’s reading poetry? And shooting. And moving. And doing… something that sounds a lot like a flame thrower, at least if the movies are correct.

Elderly Lara Croft, he thinks again.

The whatever-it-is he released from the book is making horrible noises, painful bass sounds that carry no words but so much meaning his head hurts trying to understand. Tim covers his ears, and discovers they are bleeding.

The woman is still alive, and somehow, still shooting. How many bullets does she have? It can’t be legal, to have bullets like that, and the fact that legal amounts of bullets even enters his head in a moment like this makes him laugh like a loon.

Damn it , Tim! he’s able to hear, and all sound suddenly stops.

In the abrupt and terrible silence comes a new voice, disturbingly energetic, unnervingly delighted.

“Oh, oh, oh, there you are, Dagster! Dag-Man! Dag-o-Rama!” The voice drops an octave. “It’s been so very long.” 

And whoever said that—whatever chipper, knife-bright being said that—must be a monster, because John’s fear rises like a flood, like an absolute tsunami, and briefly, Tim can feel nothing else.

[faunrasthewinterelf]

It’s noon but here’s another AU that popped into my head

Detroit:Become Human AU

Jon as Connor, joined up with Detective Tim Stoker, famed for busting the Ither Circus, which smuggled drugs in corpses? Idk

Sasha as Markus, who cares for an elderly Gertrude, and was shot because of her insane grandson Michael? But had to have her fake skin processor changed completely do to damage to her cosmetic processor?

Martin Blackwood as Kara, a household Android that saves a baby young Gerard from his abusive and drunk/high all the time Cultist Mother, Mary

Except when everything hits the fan, and their all in Magnus, an old shipping freighter, when FBI agent Elias Bouchard is trying to sink it, they all stick in Detroit to see this through

Jonah Magnus takes up the role of Amanda, and controls Android Jon, and despises Deviants

[inigresik]

aNauval Raihan Tim 356 HRX Jawa Barat berhasil meraih podium kelas rookie IOF NC round 3. Foto IG @manaphotosrvcOffroad Jepara 4WD - Persaingan kejurnas IOF National Championship semakin memanas memasuki seri 3 yang dilaksanakan di Sirkuit Bukit Bathang Gresik Jawa Timur pada 27 - 28 Agustus 2022. Tim balap papan atas indonesia ikut bersaing mempertahankan posisi dikelasnya masing masing. Para mekanik andalan dan tim pendukung tak lepas dari keberhasilan para offroad. Dengan kontur tanah padas dan cuaca yang terik tidak menghilangkan semangat para offroad untuk mempertahankan gelar juara pada seri kali ini. Lalu siapa saja pembalap yang juara? Berikut hasil lombanya:  Total Result IOF National Championship Kelas Rookie Nauval Raihan / Abdul Rohman - 365 HRX Depok Rifat Saputra / Kacong - Dasico Bali Dep / Havid - Emden Nesi Gorontalo Hendrik S. / Yayi - 365 HRX Subang Kevin Wiwaha / Heri Setiawan - Galena Sidoarjo Total Result IOF National Championship Kelas Pro Dek Ray / Mang Di - Galena Bali Aldhy / Rudi - Anta Jaya Palopo Wisnu / Atok - Grage Lestari Surabaya Iswandhy / Sadril - Captain America X Kelabang Makassar Sumardji / Untung - Grager Lestari Surabaya #inigresik #gresik #news #championship #offroad #treck #latepost (at Bukit Gunung Batang) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ch0jDvlvNeP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[muhajirmuslimid]

MEMBUAT BISNIS BERTAHAN BAHKAN BERKEMBANG DITENGAH SITUASI SULIT SEKALIPUN ᅠ Ditengah situasi normal maupun tidak normal setiap bisnis memiliki tantangan tersendiri untuk membuat bisnisnya terus berkembang ᅠ Sebagian besar perkembangan yang terjadi di sebuah bisnis merupakan hasil dari kinerja SDM di dalamnya. Maka, aset terpenting di dalam sebuah bisnis adalah tim tangguh yang berjiwa pemenang. Dan investasi terbaik dalam bisnis adalah menciptakan "The Winning Teams" yang dapat melakukan scale up bisnis ditengah kondisi normal maupun tidak normal. ᅠ Lalu bagaimana cara membangun The Winning Teams pada bisnis Anda? ᅠ Ikutilah Talkshow How to Build Winning Teams In New Normal ᅠ RABU, 24 JUNI 2020 PUKUL 09.00 - 11.00 WIB LIVE via Zoom ᅠ Keynote Speaker: Jamil Azzaini - CEO Kubik Leadership ᅠ Talkshow: - Atok R. Aryanto - COO Kubik Leadership - Purnomo - Direktur Akademi Trainer - Sofie Beatrix - CEO Kampoong Hening ᅠ Fasilitas Eksklusif: 1. E-Book "How To Build Winning Teams In New Normal 2. Give A Way Buku Best Seller: Kubik Leadership, Speak To Change, The New Me 3. Voucher Online Training Senilai Ratusan Ribu Rupiah 4. Challenge Menarik Berhadiah utama Emas ᅠ Pendaftaran : https://bit.ly/WinningTeams-AP (BISA LANGSUNG KLIK DI BIO, YA) ᅠ #talkshow #winning #team #jamilazzaini #sofiebeatrix #atokraryanto #new #normal #build #zoom (di Indonesia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBxiTOVHbcb/?igshid=17flej46e9epo

[born2bebob]

Ich will es nicht wahr haben aber werde täglich eines besseren belehrt und muss eingestehen, dass ich nicht wie die Mehrheit bin.

Scheinbar ticken meine Uhren einfach anders und lassen sich auch nur schwer stellen oder ich lese die Ziffern falsch. 

Mein ganzen Leben versuchte ich mich deshalb schon anzupassen, um einfach nicht auffallen oder gewissen Stress zu vermeiden. Die Angst verletzt zu werden hat mich mit zunehmender unselbstsicherheit einfach nur dazu gebracht meine Ruhe zu suchen. Beobachten , Medien und Freunde halfen mir in eine andere Welt zu flüchten. In dieser Welt gab es immer Gut und Böse aber das Gute siegte immer. 

Heute blicke ich zu oft zurück. Mir gefallen die Erinnerungen, ich denke gerne an vergangene Tage zurück. Egal wie schwer die Zeiten waren, denen ich mich nur schweren Herzens zuwenden kann, sie können einfach nicht überwiegen. Die Zeiten, in denen die Gewichte nicht passend waren, helfen mir heute nicht aufzugeben und der Gedanke an meine Schwester, zeigt mir meine Notwendigkeit immer weiter an mir arbeiten zu müssen. 

Meine Erinnerungen sind mein wertvollste Gut und haben mich nun zu dem gemacht, was ich jetzt bin und werden mir immer wieder helfen. Ich werde halt immer wieder mal verwirrt sein aber mein Kopf will halt manchmal mehr als er kann, ist manchmal afk, blockiert bei manchen Themen nach dem gedanklich wiederholten Wort ab und dass in einer Schleife….., dann will er wieder mehr als man ihm zumuten kann und er versucht alles zu verarbeiten oder er lässt sich ablenken, ua durch Verstrickungen oder dem reinsteigern in ein Bild. Für eine genaue Aufstellung werde ich ein Buch schreiben müssen…. 

ABER 

Niemand hat mir zu sagen wie ich wann sein soll!

Niemand hat das Recht mich wegen eigenverschuldete Unwissenheit und fehlendem Interesse am Verständnis zu beurteilen!

Wenn jemand was sagen will, dann soll er sich bitte die Zeit nehmen und auch Verständnis für die Gegenseite entwickeln. 

Man muss ja nicht immer einer Meinung sein aber man kann immer einen ruhigen Weg finden, um eine Herausforderung zu bewältigen. 

Mir fällt es regelmäßig sehr schwer gegenseitiges Verständnis zu schaffen und sehr gerne will man mich auch einfach nicht verstehen. Wie soll man mich aber auch verstehen, wenn ich mich nicht selbst verstehe, nicht weiß wie ich verstanden werde oder so…. 

Zum Glück hilft mir nun meine schwere Zeit zum Jahr 2020, das Jahr in den ich schon 30 werde und immer noch wie Peter fliege aber endlich erkannt habe, dass ich unendlich wertvolle Wege erkunden durfte aber mich nie gewagt habe andere zu erkunden und durch diese meine Richtung zu wählen. 

Zum Glück habe ich viele Menschen um mich herum, die irgendwie immer wieder an mich glauben und bisher immer für mich da waren. 

Ich weiß nicht, was sie in mir sehen wollen aber für sie versuche ich dankbarer zu werden. Ich will sie und andere nicht auch noch verlieren. Deshalb gebe ich alles, nie aufzuhören an mir zu arbeiten und gebe weiterhin mein bestes.. 

Es fällt mir schwer aber ich werde noch einen langen Weg mit vielen kleinen Hürden gehen müssen. Zu Oft habe ich von alleine einen Weg  gefunden um auf die Spitze des Berges zu gelangen oder habe aus Angst vor dem Sturz die sichere Variante gewählt. 

In Zukunft nehme ich wieder Menschen mit und werde mit ihnen jede Hürde meistern. 

Ich bin außerdem meiner Schwester für ihre kraftspendendenden Liebe unendlich dankbar. Sie wartete an jedem Gipfel auf mich, den ich deshalb ohne jemals aufzugeben erklimmte. Ohne Sie könnte ich wahrscheinlich nicht immer wieder so schnell zu neuer Kraft kommen und würde mich nicht so sehr bemühen um Hilfe zu erhalten, die ich auch annehmen werde. 

Und ja, die vorab helfende Hilfe ist meine Hoffnung in die Pharmazie, zu der ich jetzt immer mehr Tendiere. Immerhin gibt esein allehelfendes Medikament? 

Durch das Vermeiden der Tabletten habe ich einen meiner wichtigsten und leider auch letzten halte im Leben verloren. Mir war bewusst, dass es mir helfen würde von den Süchten weg zu kommen, meine seit der Kindheit bestehenden Depressionen zu lösen und mich "normal" machen? Das ist mir zu hoch und macht mir irgendwie Angst. Wie kann mich ein Medikament, fast atok helfen? 

Vorallem, weil ich die Wirkung des Medikaments an einer Person mit viel mehr Herausforderungen als den meinen sehen konnte, fällt es mir schwer der Wirkung des Medikaments nicht zu akzeptieren aber der Gedanke anhand einer umstrittenen Tablette sorgenfrei zu sein klingt so fern und werde ich dadurch auch wenigstens besser verstanden???? Kein Plan.....

Komme was wolle, ich werde wie immer das Beste aus der Situation machen, versuchen positiv zu bleiben und was mir am meisten bedeutet, mich selbst kennenlernen. Zu lange war ich gestresst durch meine Arbeit und meinem Umfeld. Ich durfte erkennen woher es kommt und merke auch wie schwer es ist, richtig damit umzugehen. Um besser verstanden zu werden ist schön zu wissen, dass ich in all dem Stress endlich mal Zeit für mich haben kann.

Wie nutze ich diese aber am sinnvollsten? Ich habe mir im Laufe der Jahre viele Baustellen errichtet und nix wirklich zu Ende gebracht um zu funktionieren. Um so zu sein, wie man es von mir erwartet und in meinem sicheren Umfeld war ich nur noch die Differenz von allem. Es liegt an mir, die von mir ungewollt geschaffenen Bögen zu glätten, wenn es überhaupt noch möglich ist.

Vergessen ist schwer aber ohne etwas nicht gemacht zu haben, wird das verzeihen schwerer werden.

Mein erstes Ziel ist es, mich an einem Stein zu versuchen. Habe mir im Wahn ein professionelles Werkzeug zugelegt.

Wenn Steine die Zeugen der Zeit sind und ich im Laufe der Jahre so viele angesammelt habe, werde ich nun meinen Fokus schulen und einer alten leeren Aussage Leben verpassen.

[yumnahumaira]

FAMILY

So, today i would like to tell you about my FAMILY!! Hahaha, i’m glad to talk about Family

So, I have 4 people in my family; Ayah, Mama, Abang, and Una. But, i feel like Mars in my family, why? Bcs, Ayah, Mama, Abng, sama-sama suka Paskib, sedangkan Una? No, bukannya gak suka, tapi gimana ya, ya gitu lah, dulu pas kelas 1 SMP pernah ikut paskib, lalu, keluar hehe, Andd, Ayah, Mama, Abg mereka juga sama-sama teknik sipil!! Una kalau kuliah gak mau ambil teknik sipil!! AAAA. And also my big family, Opung Una seorng PNS, Kakek Una seorang PNS, atok Una juga PNS, Om Una juga PNS, i dont know, why they wanted to be PNS. Dannnnn, keluarga Una juga kerja di PU semuaaa!! Jadi kayak keturunan gitu, Opung Una PNS kerja nya di PU, Atok Una PNS kerja di PU, Bunda Una PNS kerja di PU, Kakek Una PNS krja di PU, Om Una PNS kerja di PU But, my Mama is a PNS, but She works as Lecturer at Univ.Abulyatama, and My brother, his major is Teknik Sipil jga!! Gimana Una gak bilang ‘I feel like Mars in my family’ ya gituu, Una gak suka Paskib, but my family like it, Una gak suka sipil, but my big family like it. Jadi, Una merasa aneh HAHAHA, Una suka nya Informatika, but three of them tidak trllu suka sama komputer, HAAAAAAA, hehehe, jadi, kalau mau belajar komputer hrus otodidak gituu. But, my Ayah suggest that jika Una udah kuliah nti, ambil aja teknik sipil, UNA GAK MAUUU, Jadi, ya bgtu lahh, seprti Mars mmg, beda diantara yang lain, hahah tapi Una jga kokoh sama pilihan Una, krna Una ada semboyan ‘Berani beda? Kenapa nggak’ HEHEHE

Buuuttt, di balik ituu semua, I LOVE MY FAMILYY, kita punya club bola yang samaa, hahaha iya kita ber-4, so, sometimes, kalau udah ada pertandingan ElClasico gtuu, pasti di bangunin, malam-malam buat nonton gituu, terus kalau final Liga Champions, pasti di bangunin kalau tim yang seruuuuu Hahaha.

Jadi, our fav team kan Barcelona, jadi, pas Barca kalah gitu kan, pas final, atau pas kapan, sedih, hahahah satu keluarga sedih, pasti ngedumel, Hahahaha! Sedih nya bisa smpai setengah hari, kadang pas mau tidur sempat-sempat nya ngebahas kenapa bisa kalah😂.

Yes, of course, I love my family, gak ada yng bsa buat tenang selain rumah&keluarga, tempat berlindung dri segala yang menyakitka , dari segala masalah, dari segala PR&Ulangan hahahha nggak lah. Hehehe.

[yourtimordaily]

Juara Aintasi CUP Tantang PS Malaka Sang Juara Eltari Memorial Cup 2019

Juara Aintasi CUP Tantang PS Malaka Sang Juara Eltari Memorial Cup 2019

TIMORDAILY.COM Malaka – Juara turnamen Aintasi Cup VII Tim kesebelasan Peskara FC menantang PS Malaka yang adalah juara El Tari Memorial Cup  (ETCM) 2019.

Kedua tim kesebelasan ini direncanakan akan melakukan pertandingan persahabatan yang akan difasilitasi oleh Anggota DPRD Malaka, Felix Bere Nahak.

Hal ini diungkapkan Camat Malaka Tengah Eduardus Bere Atok pada sambutannya diacara penutupan…

[koranmemoonline-blog]

Jelang Pilbup Jombang, KPU Gandeng RS Tipe A untuk Tes Kesehatan Paslon-koranmemo.com

New Post has been published on https://koranmemo.com/jelang-pilbup-jombang-kpu-gandeng-rs-tipe-a-untuk-tes-kesehatan-paslon/

Jelang Pilbup Jombang, KPU Gandeng RS Tipe A untuk Tes Kesehatan Paslon

Jombang, koranmemo.com – Tahapan demi tahapan Pemilihan Bupati (Pilbup) Kabupaten Jombang 2018 terus bergulir. Komisi Pemilihan Umum (KPU) setempat juga telah menyiapkan segala sarana termasuk untuk tahapan tes kesehatan para calon yang akan bertarung nantinya, dengan menggandeng beberapa rumah sakit (rumkit)  tipe A yang ada di Jawa Timur.

Hal tersebut diungkapkan Komisioner KPU Jombang Athoillah. Menurutnya, memang tahapan terdekat saat ini adalah pendaftaran para bakal calon pada tanggal 8-10 Januari 2018. Kemudian lanjut tahapan berikutnya termasuk pemeriksaan kesehatan bakal calon.

“Makanya jauh-jauh hari kami melakukan persiapan seperti berkoordinasi dengan beberapa rumah sakit tipe A,” kata pria yang akrab disapa Atok ini, Jumat (15/12).

Dijelaskan, pemilihan rumah sakit tipe A mengacu pada Peraturan Komisi Pemilihan Umum (PKPU) Nomor 15 Tahun 2017 tentang perubahan atas  peraturan Komisi Pemilihan Umum nomor 3 tahun 2017 tentang pemilihan gubernur dan wakil gubernur, bupati dan wakil bupati dan / atau  walikota dan wakil walikota.

“Di Jawa Timur sendiri ada tiga (rumkit tipe A) seperti RSAL Dr Ramelan, RSUD Dr Soetomo di Surabaya serta RSUD Dr Saiful Anwar di Malang,” paparnya.

Sedangkan untuk jadwal tes kesehatan, menurutnya, masih menunggu rekomendasi dari KPU Pusat. “Nantinya rekomendasi itu diberikan ke KPU Provinsi Jawa Timur. Sedangkan pelaksana pemeriiksaan tim dokter dari IDI (Ikatan Dokter Indonesia) dan juga BNN (Badan Narkotika Nasional),” ujarnya.

Setelah itu, lanjutnya, tim dokter akan memberikan hasil pemeriksaan terhadap bakal calon apakah memenuhi syarat atau tidak. “Ya yang jelas harus mampu dan sehat secara jasmani dan rohani serta dinyatakan bebas dari pengaruh narkoba,” tandasnya.

Sekedar diketahui, sesuai jadwal KPU, Pilkada Jombang akan digelar serentak dengan beberapa daerah lain pada 27 Juni 2018, baik tingkat kabupaten/kota maupun provinsi. Di Jombang sudah ada dua nama tokoh beredar di masyarakat sebagai bakal calon Bupati Jombang.

Pertama Nyono Suharli Wihandoko yang juga bupati saat ini. Dia akan berhadapan dengan Mundjidah Wahab yang tercatat sebagai wakilnya saat ini dalam menjalankan roda pemerintahan di Jombang.

Reporter: Agung Pamungkas

Editor: Achmad Saichu

[koranmemoonline-blog]

Bareskrim Sidak Bangunan Baru Milik RSUD, Ada Apa?-koranmemo.com

New Post has been published on http://koranmemo.com/bareskrim-sidak-bangunan-baru-milik-rsud-ada-apa/

Bareskrim Sidak Bangunan Baru Milik RSUD, Ada Apa?

Sidoarjo, koranmemo.com – Tim Bareskrim Mabes Polri melakukan pengecekan di lokasi proyek pembangunan gedung baru milik RSUD Sidoarjo. Hal ini terkait adanya laporan dari PT Katama Suryabumi yang menduga struktur pondasi pembangunan proyek itu menggunakan struktur pondasi Konstruksi Sarang Laba Laba (KSLL).

Penemu jaring rusuk beton pasak vertikal yang sekaligus penemu konstruksi pondasi jaring (rumah) laba-laba, Ir Ryantori menyatakan dirinyalah yang layak menggugat atau mensomasi konstruksi itu.

“Kontruksi pondasi jaring laba-laba itu juga merupakan temuan saya. Kan tidak layak jika PT Katama, mensomasi dan melaporkan saya ke pihak kepolisian,” ucapnya, Rabu, (25/10/2017)

Jaringan konstruksi baru itu, sambung Ryantori, merupakan penyempurnaan jaring (rumah) laba-laba. “Kalau dikatakan plagiat (jiplak) kan aneh, karena struktur pondasi itu kan saya yang menemukan,” papar Ir Ryantori.

Dijelaskan, pemilik dan direktur PT Katama dulu merupakan anak buahnya. Karena sudah kenal selama 25 tahun akhirnya berinisiatif untuk memasarkan hasil temuan barunya kepihak lain.

Terkait polemik ini, Ryanto akan menyerahkan ke penasihat hukumnya untuk melaporkan balik PT Katama yang sudah terlanjur melaporkan pihaknya ke polisi tersebut.

“Saya yang menemukan kok malah saya yang dituduh serta dituding menjiplak. Saya menduga pihak tersebut (PT.Katama red) hanya ingin melempar batu saja dalam masalah ini,” ujarnya.

Sementara itu Direktur RSUD Sidoarjo, dr Atok Irawan menegaskan, jika pondasi yang dikerjakan rekanan itu sudah selesai. Untuk masalah adanya dua vendor yang saling tuding dan mangaku masing-masing punya hak paten, pihaknya ingin melakukan  mediasi kedua belah pihak hingga masalah ini selesai.

“Sebagai user, kami (RSUD red) ingin agar permasalahan ini selesai dengan cara mediasi. Kami akan mencoba mengundang pelapor dan penggugat duduk bersama satu meja untuk menyelesaikan masalah ini,” harapnya.

Turunnya tim penyidik Bareskrim Mabes Polri itu juga didampingi tim manajemen RSUD, ULP, rekanan, konsultan dan penemu konstruksi beton itu sendiri.

Diketahui manajemen RSUD Sidoarjo, mengklarifikasi soal proyek pembangunan gedung baru senilai Rp 37,9 miliar yang saat ini masih dikerjakan rekanan karena adanya somasi mengenai jaring rusuk vertikal yang digunakan rekanan untuk membangun gedung RSUD tersebut.

Pihak PT Katama Suryabumi mengklaim jika struktur pembangunan pondasi yang digunakan rekanan menggunakan

struktur pondasi Konstruksi Sarang Laba Laba (KSLL) yang hak ciptanya milik mereka itu. Sehingga PT Katama Suryabumi melaporkan hal tersebut ke Bareskrim Mabes Polri.

Reporter: Yudhi Ardian

Editor: Achmad Saichu