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lovesanmotion · 4 years ago

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yandere!fanboy!ateez reacts: s/o writing a song about them

This is: requested | I guess....the yandere!ateez as fanboys are a success from what I can see. I only uploaded them without thinking. Also, don’t hesitate to blow up my request box! I’m jobless like Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung. Also, to the sender who requested this, thank you so much for appreciating my blog and writing!

Lyrics I placed in order: Love Battery - LOONA (Immortal Songs) Shadow - F(x) Going Crazy - Secret Jieun ft. BAP Yongguk Peekaboo - Red Velvet Shampoo - After School Babe - Hyuna Into You - Yuri Love Foolish - TWICE

Hongjoong:

“Even if you are not handsome, I like it. Even if you’re not buff, I like it. You are just for me, to me, you are the best.”

Hongjoong stood among the crowd with a foolish smile painted on his lips. His hands placed on top of his chest as he listens to your new song that you are performing at your comeback concert.

“Hold me one more time. Hold me tightly until I burst. Love’s effect must be fading. I need you.”

A soft sigh escapes his lips dramatically. Lovestuck as he watches the love of his life sing a song about him and how she constantly needed his touch or else she’d die from his lack of attention on her.

“Fill me with love. Love battery has drained. I can’t live without you, I really can’t live without you. You are my battery.”

He clutches his chest tightly, his heart beating loudly inside. He didn’t cared how wild the others were cheering for your comeback stage, all that matters to him is that this song was made for him. Just for him. Normally he would promote your songs by requesting them on radio stations, but he hesitated on the idea of promoting it. This was his song. And only he gets the full rights to enjoy it. The others are just listening to it, he thought that you were kind enough to let everyone hear the song you made especially for him.

“To me, you are everything. I like you so much, I totally like you. My only love, there’s no other, my love. You are the best.”

As the comeback concert ended, everyone inside the concert hall talked about how your comeback song is a hit and promised to get you another music show win. The others gushed how you must be in love that you wrote a song about affection.

Hongjoong could only chuckle to himself as he walks out of the venue, hands filled with your individual merchandise and a wallet almost empty after emptying the shelves of your concert goods.

“Stupid fools think that the song is for them when in fact the song is about me. Me! Only me! Why would Y/N ever notice all of you when a whole me exists?” Hongjoong thought to himself as he walked alone late that night.

Seonghwa:

“Everyday, I secretly chase after your footsteps. I’m always careful so you won’t notice. No one says it but our date has started, our own date.”

Click click! Seonghwa focuses his camera on a different angle before taking another shot of you. Click click!

“Where are you going? Step by step, I follow you. Without a word you lead me. Step by step, did you notice me? I have nowhere to hide anymore.”

Yesterday, Starlight made a comeback and today, they are performing their comeback song at a radio station. For this comeback, Starlight’s Y/N participated in the song writing, having been credited two songs in the mini album. She partook writing the comeback song!

“When the sun rises, I walk in sync and together with you. I am really really into you. When the moon rises, you fall asleep in my arms. I really really like you.”

Seonghwa’s parents had been praising him for landing a wonderful job in the corporate world. When in reality, he was only hired by a fellow sasaeng that gave him much flexible work hours so he could still manage to slip out of his work and follow your every footstep in the country or out. He was being paid fairly well even when all he did was just to follow you around.

“Day by day, we resemble each other more and more. Your laughter and tears, I know it all. Don’t be scared, were a fate tied by the sun, its our destiny to be together.”

As the performance ended, the girls sat back down on their seats and the interview rolled in. Fansites can only hang outside of the studio, and of course, Seonghwa is up close, nearest to Y/N.

“Congratulations to Starlight! This is their third comeback and the song is really catchy!” The MC remarked.

“It’s sounds like a summer song! I heard Y/N took part in the production?” The second MC asked, the cameras then turned to face Y/N. Y/N who was flustered, nodded her head. “Yes”

“Can you tell us the story behind the song? Your fans are dying to know the meaning behind such a good song.” The first MC says.

Y/N held the microphone in her head, smiling, she explained: “This is a true to life song. I made a song about a guy who was really handsome and captured my heart. We were always going in the same direction and one time, his hand brushed into mine. And I felt so happy by the small connection.” Y/N chuckles.

When Seonghwa heard about it, he lowered his camera and stared at Y/N. The song was about him. He remembered how he would spend his vacant period at work to follow Y/N when they were shooting an ad around Namsan because of the newly built skywalk. His hand brushed on hers when they were buying food at the convenient store. Seonghwa was so moved by the explanation that he felt like his feelings grew more for you.

“My sunshine likes getting attention. My attention. That’s right, my sunshine, bathe in my attention only. ”

Yunho:

“It’s not love, this isn’t love. It’s just your obsession. Wherever, Whatever I do. It’s frightening. The you who watches me.”

Yunho watched as Y/N practices for her upcoming comeback stage at The Show next week. He admired how she dare approached a bold and mature comeback. And he was so happy to see this new side of his girl. However, he felt like he needed to be more protective of her since she was going for a more risque concept.

“Have you gone crazy? Why are you like this? Please just leave me alone now. Seeing you is suffocating. Please disappear from my sight.”

Yunho stood behind the cameras as he watches Y/N and the featured artist practice. He heard a few staffs make a comment about how the featured artist looks like him. And maybe how you might’ve fallen in love with him. Yunho’s feeling swelled when he heard of those comments. In fact, he was so happy that he heard it from them. But you on the other hand, why do you still deny your feelings for him? Why was it so hard for you to be up front and honest with what you feel? Is it because he works as your manager? You’re in the same company as he is? And that you kept insisting to be professional? At this point, Yunho would resign if that was the case. If he can’t have you because of his line of work, he would be more than pleased to resign and be in your arms everyday.

“Get lost. Just back off. I really can’t breathe. Wherever I go, wherever I am. It’s frightening. The you who follows me.”

Yunho managed to lift the debts off his family. After paying the debts, he was able to even buy a new home for them around Gangnam area. His parents hesitated on the idea at first since owning a land in Gangnam costs way more than renting, Yunho told them not to worry. Not to worry since he is being paid royalty in his job. After that, he was able to spoil you with luxurious gifts and live with you in your apartment. More like forced himself into your home.

“This ain’t right, this isn’t love. It just hurts me, don’t be like this. I loved you. But I don’t now. Erase me from your memory.”

And when the song was released, Yunho was all up for promoting it. He made everyone he know listen to the song in various streaming platforms and watch the MV as well. Whether you would like it or not, Yunho is here to stay in your life. Permanently.

Yeosang:

“Peekaboo! This is new, is this love? All my friends yell at me, they say I have a problem. I’m fine fine fine fine fine fine.”

A small painted Yeosang lips as his eyes followed you on stage. He watched you as you danced in a tight red dress. That was his gift for you last Christmas to be exact. The designer brand didn’t really put it out for sale. They only made one and had it up for auction. It was a dress that accentuated your curves and complimented your skin. Yeosang won the auction and had it included in your next comeback.

“Tag you’re it! It’ll be fun! I’ll include you here. Til the moon hangs on the jungle gym, let’s play”

Since Yeosang is someone who holds a high position in the company, he made a proposal to be your sponsor. At first, your members didn’t like the idea since sponsors have a bad reputation attached to it. But you were naive and still proceeded with the sponsorship. You thought it would go bad, but Yeosang made you feel comfortable in his home and gave you all the fame that you wanted. Never did he once ask anything that was against your morals.

“Peekaboo! It’s strange, you’re different. I stop this game and I look at you again. I’m not a fraid, because I just felt that a new story will begin”

Your members were still cautious about Yeosang orbitting around you. There was something about him that they could not lay a finger on. Scared that they would find their contracts terminated the following day. But seeing you happy, they felt like they needed to stop. As long as you are happy, they are happy. Yeosang included.

“Don’t worry, my love. You’re safe with me. Anyone who accuses you will come to me first.”

San:

It was 9pm when you made a surprise V live alone in the recording room of your company building. San was actually nearby, he was hid inside the convenient store where he bumped into you before.

“Hello everyone! Have you all eaten? I missed you alot.” He watches his Y/N pout in the screen. His heart raced a bit,

“I ate already, my love. Don’t worry.” San responds, as if it was only him that you were talking to.

“I made a new song and I’m in the recording room. Apparently, I was given permission to spoil the song for you!” Y/N happily takes her phone and draws it closer to the company phone of where she is doing her live.

“I wanna be shampoo Trickling down your hair I wanna embrace you With my strong fragrance I will wrap around your entire body With white foam So even the mirrors can’t see you I will cover you So no one can have you You won’t ever get rid of my scent”

“That’s all the spoil for now.” Y/N stops the recording and turns the camera to her face again. She leaned her face closer and read a few comments about how would the fans think.

“What is your inspiration behind this song?” She read aloud. She leaned back in her seat with her lips pursed. “In all honesty, I met a male fan last week. I actually bumped into him and I was able to smell his perfume and...” Y/N paused. “He smelled so good that...was it possible to fall in love just by smelling their perfume?” Y/N chuckles softly.

San had his eyes wide. The song was about him. He felt like bursting from his seat but he refrained himself from doing so.

“I hope he isn’t a weird fan. I also have a fan who constantly bothers me even at the late hours. It’s bothering me. And I hope the person stops soon.” Y/N said. Double jackpot! He got mentioned twice by you. He couldn’t wait until the song releases, he was already booking train station platforms in honor for the release of your song.

Mingi:

Was it possible to fall in love with just a touch? Ever since the incident at the Incheon Airport, your company has become stricter and hired more bodyguards when it comes to outside activities. From what you heard, VS Media is even rewriting their rules when it comes to fan and idol gift giving.

“Come on, let me play some more. Why treat babies gently, I cannot count on you, my age. You’ve walked in any magic. I am the one for you. Everyday I wake up. This is mine.”

Ever since the incident at the airport, you slightly became uncomfortable with the idea of leaving the dorm. Despite your feelings, rest assured that your members were always there for you.

“I am not sleeping today. I remember my eyes. I’m not sleeping.”

It’s been a month since you stepped foot inside the airport again, things were going okay. You were able to walk inside and through the gates without any problem. The fans still following your footsteps, you tried to loosen up yourself a bit - smiling and waving at them. Nothing could go wrong.

Until, you saw a figure from your peripheral vision. You turned your head to take a look, but no one was there. Strange. As you and your group were able to board the plane, you took a seat near the window and pulled out your lyrics notebook. Flipping through the pages, you stopped at an unfinished work. The unfinished work is your solo song used as an outro for Starlight’s upcoming full album.

“Babe babe babe in your eyes. Babe babe babe in your hand. My appearance is babe babe babe babe. I want to hear it again.”

“Are you writing a song?” You were startled with the question. You turned your head and didn’t noticed how a man with a mask and cap sat besides you already.

“Yes I am” You spoke softly. “Can I read it?” the man besides you asked.

You hesitantly gave him the notebook, the man took it and read through the lyrics.

“I like how you composed the song. It’s still in its raw form too. You’re a genius.” The man complimented. You smiled and thanked him for the compliment. The next thing you knew shocked you.

The man placed a hand on your knee, his other free hand removed his mask and cap. Song Mingi. At that moment, you couldn’t process what was happening. All you knew was that your mind kept telling you to tell at least your members. But your body started heating up at his touch.

“Did you miss me?”

Wooyoung:

Wooyoung had disguised himself as the photographer for your album. The night before it came, he worked on creating his fake ID and borrowed a spare camera to use for the production.

“At that smile that sees my eyes. For me, the whole world is bathed in light. Hold my hands and I close my eyes. I hope this time stops here.”

Wooyoung’s breath almost took away as he saw you in black under shorts and wrinkled and almost unbuttoned white button down. He didn’t know what the concept was but his eyes were already feasting on your body, not ever feeling full.

“Fall in love more deeply, you and I. Let’s fall in deeply, you and I together. The one thing that I want. You seep into me, you spread inside of me.”

“Ms Y/N taking the bold move of doing her first sexy concept.” Y/N’s manager teased her. Wooyoung knew everyone who was on set. Him, Y/N, Y/N’s manager, stylist, make up artist and a few production crew that wasn’t part of VS Media.

“What’s the story behind this concept?” Y/N’s manager asked, Wooyoung could only stare in awe at Y/N. Never did he see this side of her. He always knew of Y/N as the sweet and bubbly girl in soft concepts. But of course, Wooyoung love to break the types.

“I actually like to search my name on the internet. And I came across fanfics of myself.” Y/N chuckles. Oh that sweet sound that made Wooyoung’s heart beat fast. The audio recorders can never outdo it.

“There is a certain blog that possibly does a lot. That blog posts photos of me, writes fanfics and posts my schedules too. He’s doing god works for my other fans.” Y/N chuckles. As the production of the photoshoot started, Wooyoung did his best to capture the real beauty of this side of Y/N.

“What a hardworking fan. What’s the name of the blog?”

“ForY/N”

Wooyoung’s eyes widens as he heard the name of his blog. His blog inspired you to make a song....about him?

“Filling my whole heart. With you, I feel my heart. Fall in love more deeply, you and I. Let’s fall in deeply, you and I together.”

“The way that person writes really amazes me. I’d like to get to know the person.” Y/N explains. His mind fell into a spiral. Part of him wanted the song to be released already but there was also a part of him that wanted the song to be released for him only.

“Wish will soon become tomorrow. Today is more heart fluttering than yesterday. I want to go together with you. Closer to the place where my dream reaches.”

The bonus thing about what Wooyoung did today is that as a photographer, he was able to keep some of the photos. Running away even with some.

Jongho:

Jongho fell in line for the release of your album. He was actually second in line as he was actually camping outside of the building of your company.

“Everyday I called out your name, about a thousand times, about ten million times Before you finally heard it Cut and rewind, why can’t you be mine? Ooh the one who spins my head like this It’s you, just running running running around you My repeatedly-midnight promise I don’t know what to do”

Jongho, who had his arms crossed over his chest, looked up and down to turn around where that song was coming from. He hasn’t heard of this song but he knew that was your voice.

“Crazy love! I love you, love you, hate, foolish Crazy love! I love you Make me feel so high Love! I love you, love you, hate, foolish Crazy love! I hate you Make me so bad It’s weird, the more I fall for you I’m sorry, I’ll hate you I don’t know, I can’t explain this I’m trapped in a labyrinth of strange emotions”

The whole room was adorned with your own merchandise and on the TV display was actually an MV of your b side. Jongho took a basket and grabbed a handful of your limited and regular version of your albums, along with a packet of your photocards and a griptok.

As he was in line to pay for his orders, in which his basket was filled as he actually bought more of your items. You made a sudden appearance into the room. For Jongho, he felt as if the room got brighter when you suddenly stepped inside. When it was his turn to pay for his items, the people behind the counter were amazed at how many he was able to fit into his basket.

Tapping his feet impatiently, he wanted to be able to greet you before you left the room. When his bag was handed to him, he immediately took it and sped walk towards your direction, talking to a few.

He felt as if the gods were with him. As he drew closer to you, the ones you were talking to left and it just you and him now.

“Hello Y/N!” Jongho greeted. You turned to him happily. “Hello!”

“I really really like this song of yours!” He gushed happily. “Can you tell me about it?”

You nodded happily. “The song is actually about someone who makes me feel happy, the idea of love in a dangerous way? The idea send me thrills.” You chuckled. Jongho felt ecstatic. Beyond the moon even. You wrote a song about him!

That afternoon when he got home, he made sure that everyone in Seoul would be able to hear the song that you made. It was for him so he had full brag rights to do so.

#ateez #Ateez hongjoong #ateez mingi #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #ateez smut #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez yandere #kpop yandere

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kichimiangra · 4 years ago

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To celebrate Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart... I rant about things I would have done differently with the Ratchet and Clank Movie (2016)

Ratchet and Clank fans who saw the movie give it a read and tell me what you think! This isn’t solid or well written, it is seriously just a long rant of “Then they do this! Then That!”

To be fair I am a huuuge Ratchet and Clank fan, I enjoyed the film, I know it's not good, and I'm not quite sure exactly what happened here? I don't know why they tried to do a star wars esque "Save the galaxy; I wanna be a hero!" story when the games would better be described as a "Buddy Road trip". The relationship between the titular characters is non existent because the film instead decided it was more important to cram about 3 games worth of character development into Quark instead. I like the designs for the Galactic Rangers but other than that I hate them because I am 100% sure I know why they're there and they take even more screen time that should be spent on the titular duo. This is my list of demands if I had been someone who somehow got to demand how this movie got made: -First of all, and I hate myself for saying this... *Don't Hire James Arnold Taylor, David Kaye, and Jim Ward to reprise their roles as Ratchet, Clank, and Qwark respectively.* I love them, but I theorize it's their fault that the galactic rangers are even taking up space in this film. Lookit the movie poster! It list Paul Giamatti, John Goodman, Bella Thorne, and Rosario Daweson, before James and David. Jim Ward isn't mentioned in favor of Sylvestor Stallone. The whole point, (in my opinion) the Rangers were really a thing was to have a few more major characters. John Goodman plays Grim and Sylvestor Stallone plays Von Ion. These parts are arguably smaller than Qwark or Nefarious... and I would say those two are more prominent that Clank! But they try to get some names that will put butts in seats because UNFORTUNATELY people are stupid and many WILL go see a movie just because it has an actor they like in it. -Second... throw out the script. Start over. *Buddy Road trip! * It's not hard. You can't fit every planet into the film but you can fit enough for a road trip movie! A few important ones? -Third... *CHARACTER RELATIONSHIPS AND MOTIVATIONS.* I'm gonna be a bit detailed here. First of all, NO MORE GALACTIC RANGERS PLOT! IT GOES BYE BYE! And screw Qwark let him go back to being a frgging mid point boss! This movie is about RATCHET and CLANK! And you Know what they're gonna do? SOME RATCHETING and some CLANKING! And they are going to GROW AND DEVELOP TOGETHER! ---So this: Clank gets made, gets the info on Dreks deathstar plans (But maybe we don't know that yet? Maybe we can play it Vague? Maybe we don't have Clanks whole origin story yet? That's for later...) and escapes to Veldin. This is where he meets Ratchet. Ratchet is building a ship to try and leave Veldin because it's a bupkiss nowhere desert planet! Where's he going? GLAD YOU ASKED!!! He wants to go to the Blackwater City hover board tournament on planet Rilgar in which the trophy is being handed out by his celebrity hero: Captain Qwark. Why? We don't know this just yet but Ratchet is a Lombax abandoned on Veldin. He's never even seen another Lombax, there's not a lot of them in Solana. He didn't grow up alone, but longs to find his lost family. He thinks maybe... if he wins that Tournament, which will be Broadcasted around the galaxy and get a sponsorship with Gadgetron, being the face of the Hoverboard branch of the company for like 2 years (LEIK IN DA GAYM!) , his family will see it and they can be reunited. (hahaha no...) Too bad Ratchet can't get his ship working without a robotic ignition (LEIK IN DA GAYM!) Clank crash lands and befriends Ratchet. Clank needs a Hero (HE'S HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO TILL THE END OF THE NIGHT!) to stop Drek and Ratchet knows just the guy! His idol Qwark! Who he is also going to meet! At the Hoverboard tourney! So they agree to go together, Clank being able to turn the ship on and Ratchet able to pilot it. They hop planet to planet for the first act because crap isn't going to hit the fan until they meet Qwark. So buddy road trip for a bit they help people along the way! For example Ratchet only starts with the Wrench, but when they crash land on Novalis they meet up with Cora, who is the Presidents body guard and help her save the president (LEIK IN DA GAYMS!) and is rewarded by meeting the Plumber who fixes their crashed ship. Plumber is grateful that the Prez is safe (Maybe they related?) and gifts Ratchet the Weapon ring claiming he used to work for Gadgettron inventing all sorts of doodads, but they wouldn't put some on the market so gifts them to Ratchet, warning that the Attack ring is a little glitchy so you might not get what you want from it? So basically season 1 Ben 10's Omnitrix. Just for fun. They hop to another few places with the major take away being Clank being all like "Ratchet I am super logical and freshly baby and the galaxy is more important than the Local stuff so we gotta hurry to find Qwark!" but Ratchet is like "Sorry Clank my OCD won't allow it and we got time to kill before the tournament!" The main point of this is Clank learning feels and empathy quickly from Ratchet and also gets to see Ratchet being a hero even if SpaceRat won't admit it. They eventually end up on Rilgar and Ratchet enters the tourney with his home made garbage hoverboard because we are skipping the whole Skid McMarxx thing for time sake. So Ratchet enters the hoverboard tourney, we get a cool music montage, it looks like he's gonna win! He's in first! BAM! His hoverboard craps out on him and leaves him tumbling to the pavement. Someone passes him, he desperately tries to pull himself up, he tries to run to the finishline, more people pass him, he's in last place, he stops running. He's given up. He screwed it up for both of them. Now Clank won't meet and give his message to Qwark, and Ratchet won't get the sponsorship from Gadgetron that could get his face out there for his family to find him. Clank tries to cheer him up, but can only do so much. Ratchet feels useless and defective and maybe that's why his family abandoned him? Maybe it wasn't an accident, maybe he just sucked? But Clank knows a thing or two about being defective... so he tries to comfort Ratchet, but is interrupted when someone from the tourney approaches them and says that Captain Qwark was super impressed by Ratchets boarding skills and decided he wants to meet them. Things are looking up for the duo, but like.. you and I know Drekk told Qwark to keep an eye out fro a Lombax that's been ruining his plans and if he get's his hands on him, kill him and take Clank (LEIK STARWARS... Wait...?). Qwark blows up Ratchets ass this whole being a hero thing so Ratchet can be known throughout the galaxy and Ratchets like "BALLER! YEAH! Sign me up!" and then he betrays them, I'm foggy on this part I ain't a screen writer! BUT ANYWAY Qwark can't just be blowing up his potential fans... that looks bad, so he plays along the whole "Oh yes I am Hero Qwark What is it you need from me?" Clank then reveals his origin story of being a warbot in Drekks factory and what Drekks plans are. This is confirmation enough and Qwark betrays the duo rips something out of Clank, leaving him robot-unconscious. Ratchet defends Clank from Qwarks betrayal, Is it the Blargian Snagglebeast? I don't know who cares? And when he's done uses a leftover part from his broken hoverboard to fix Clank. They have a minor Buddy fight. Not a long one. We don't have time for a long one we're getting close to the end here! Maybe Ratchets mad that Clank is one of Drekks warbots? Was this a trap? Clank then goes further into his backstory explaining he's a defect. He had one purpose: to find someone to stop Drekk and give him that thingy. But Qwark made off with it. Maybe it was a virus to kill switch the deplanetizer? Who cares it was for Obiwan Kenobi and Qwark stole it. Now Clank has no purpose. Ratchet though tells Clank that people aren't made with purposes, they find purposes and make purposes and Clank almost feels better about that level of freedom. Ratchet and Clank bond over being full of suck and how there are no real heroes out there to stop Drekk and Clank suddenly realizes that all of the traits that make a hero are right there in Ratchet! All this movie he's watched Ratchet do hero shit and help others even if it's in a "Goddammit we're gonna miss the tournament but I have to save the orphans goddammit!" way. They both decide that they need to be the heroes they want to see and agree to go stop Drekk themselves.They go after Drekk and have a final confrontation with Qwark and Clank retrieves his Macguffin. Then they go stop Drekk. Clank has learned empathy and humanity, and Ratchet has got a found family in Clank.

#ratchet and clank

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whereisten · 5 years ago

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Hero, Yuta, & Me

Summary: Your pet sitting job lands you at the doorstep of the magnetic Yuta Nakamoto, owner of the cutest Shiba Inu on the planet, Hero.

Multi-part Series: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Part 3

Word Count: 3.2k words

Kaia, Joanna, and Taissa drove over to your house to pick you up and drive over to Jaehyun’s house. You went with a dark blue dress that hugged your curves nicely. Your heels could poke an eye out.

You arrived at Jaehyun’s Spanish villa style home. Jaehyun came from a wealthy family but because of his soccer career, his wealth multiplied tenfold. The house probably had sixteen bedrooms AND sixteen bathrooms. In order to enter to Jung estate, you and the girls had to give your names at the security gate. You raised your eyebrows at the opulence and exclusivity of it all.

Kaia parked her blue Corvette (which your dress oddly matched with) and the four of you walked through the impressive garden entrance. You knocked on the door and were greeted by a butler who reminded you very much of Alfred Pennyworth circa The Dark Knight era.

“Welcome to the Jung estate. Master Jung is expecting you. Please come in,” he said.

Of course, Jaehyun had a British butler.

“Locked Out of Heaven” by Bruno Mars was playing from some admittedly amazing speakers. You recognized a lot of your classmates. Doyoung and Johnny were in an intense round of pool. Youngjae was belting it out in the karaoke room. Senior dance captain Lisa was at the center of the dance floor. It was surreal seeing everyone again after so long.

You and the girls were served some of the most amazing frozen margaritas in existence. You clinked glasses and talked about everything and nothing for a while.

You noticed that the party playlist was a 2012 playlist, highlighting the year you graduated. “Thinkin’ About You” by Frank Ocean played as you found yourself worried about Jaehyun popping out at any second.

The beautiful song paused. Then, you heard someone clinking their glass.

At the top of the grand staircase was the ever extravagant and ever extra Jaehyun Jung.

“Hello everyone!” Jaehyun yelled to the partygoers. He was met with cheers and whoops.

He continued, “Thank you so much for coming out. I’ve missed each and every one of you since we graduated.” His eyes met yours then.

Taissa cleared her throat. “Yikes.”

“Enjoy the night! There’s plenty of booze and make all the noise you want!” Jaehyun proclaimed.

Everyone yelled then as the music changed to “I Love It” by Icona Pop. More people went to the dance floor, drinks in hand.

“You guys saw that, right?” You asked.

“Anyone who’s had two drinks or less did, Y/N,” Kaia answered.

“He’s coming this way, y’all!” Joanna whispered a little too loudly.

Jaehyun sauntered his way over to you. You felt a little smaller and you hated that.

“Hello ladies,” he said as he smiled his angelic smile.

You had to hand it to the boy. His smile was so benevolent.

The girls all muttered greetings while you said, “Hi.”

“Y/N, I’m really glad you came,” he said as he smiled.

You sighed. “Well, how could I turn down free drinks?”

He laughed. “I deserved that.”

“Among other things,” Joanna muttered.

Jaehyun acted like he hadn’t heard that. “Y/N, can I speak to you alone?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. “Sure.”

Jaehyun led you to the gorgeous gazebo in the backyard. Candles were lit all around it. Technicolor flowers and lights sprinkled all over the top. It was so beautiful you wanted to pull your camera out and take photos at every angle.

Jaehyun sat down at the bench and you sat down as well, keeping yourself three feet apart from him.

Jaehyun fiddled with his champagne flute when he started. “You look great, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help the blush. Curse your seventeen-year-old self that was rising to the surface.

You snapped out of it and met his default flirtatious gaze. “Let’s cut the crap. What did you need to say?”

At first, Jaehyun averted his gaze and stared down at his lap. But then out of respect for you, he gave you eye contact as he delivered, “I am so sorry.”

That was the first of many things you wanted him to say. He just needed to beat himself up a little more before you caved and forgave him.

“For what?” You prodded, teasing him and acting like you didn’t know what he was talking about.

Jaehyun continued, “For blowing you off at prom and being scum of the earth.”

“Oh! That,” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“I was a jerk. And you were right. I was a coward.”

“I like what I’m hearing, good sir,” you said as you downed the rest of your margarita.

“I owe you an explanation. Not that it’s an excuse but I need you to know what happened.”

Your ears perked up at that. You were interested. You thought it was because he didn’t deem you cool enough or some other bull. But deep down you always wondered if there was more to the story.

“I’m listening,” you said.

“Candice’s dad was my old soccer coach. Taught me everything I knew and helped me book deals and sponsorships. But he was manipulative and wanted more of a cut of my earnings than he was given. I got caught up with some drug dealings senior year and he threatened to out me if I didn’t increase his pay and take Candice to prom.” Jaehyun looked smaller then as he shrunk in shame.

“Drugs?” You were shocked.

“I was an idiot, Y/N. I got clean after graduation. Told my parents everything. They cut ties with Coach Lochlan because they had some dirt on him. I took the summer to go to rehab and kept training.”

“And Candice?” You added.

“Candice had no idea about the drugs or what her dad was up to. She was a family friend. She always thought we would end up together even if we fucked around. So when I asked her to go the night before prom, she thought it was because it was the real deal.”

“Oh,” you managed to say.

“And...I didn’t know how to tell you. I felt horrible. I knew if I called you, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. If I texted, I...just couldn’t do it.”

“So Facebook messenger?” You asked in disbelief.

“I know. It was stupid and selfish and everything else,” Jaehyun downed the rest of his champagne.

You both sat in silence for a minute. The partygoers came in and out of the house. The vibe of the party was euphoric and carefree. The bubble you and Jaehyun created was not.

“Y/N, you have to know I liked you a lot back then,” he said.

“I figured you didn’t find me repulsive when you asked me to prom,” you said. He really pulled out all the stops back then. He convinced the soccer team to help him perform a slightly tone-deaf version of “I Swear” by All-4-One. You remember crying from laughter that day.

“I am so sorry,” Jaehyun repeated.

“So how are you now?” You wondered aloud.

“What?” Jaehyun was confused.

“Are you clean? For real?” Even if you thought Jaehyun was an egomaniac and a coward, he was still a human being with feelings and a family and a future.

Jaehyun nodded fervently. “I’ve been clean since the summer after senior year. Soccer was my only focus after that.”

“Look, what you did to me was cruel and humiliating. But...now that you told me what happened...It’s still cruel and humiliating...What you went through was terrible and I hope you’re clean now. I don’t want you to get messed up with drugs. It’s not a life for anyone. So...I forgive you.”

Jaehyun’s smile came back full force. His prominent dimples were bigger than you’d ever seen them. “Really?”

You nodded. “It’s in the past now.”

Jaehyun said, “Y/N, thank you.”

You smiled. “I’m glad you told me the truth. It must not have been easy for you to say it.”

Which made you wonder.

“Wait a minute,” you said.

Jaehyun’s smile faded.

“Why are you telling me this? Won’t this get you in trouble?” Jaehyun’s drug use was never revealed to the public. You would’ve known. He was one of the biggest celebrities in the world so whether you liked it or not, his life was out there for you to always get updated on. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, you name it.

“I was betting on you keeping it a secret.”

Well, that was a bombshell. “And what if I’m not the decent girl you remember?”

Jaehyun lifted an eyebrow at that. “You haven’t changed that much, Y/N.”

You asked, “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve kept up with you on Instagram and Twitter,” he blurted and turned away from you.

You coughed. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve kept up with you on-“ He said as he avoided your stare.

“How? I would’ve blocked your ass,” you said.

“messi_214 was me. On Twitter.”

Curse you for accepting any and all follows on Twitter.

This meant he had seen everything. Your One Direction phase. Your very brief 5 Seconds of Summer phase. Your descent down the anime hole. Your rants about your family and your life. Your desperate longing to go to Barcelona and meet Messi. Your crude humor with your friends.

“Oh, no,” you said as you made yourself smaller. Trying to hide.

“You are hilarious,” Jaehyun said as he laughed at your reaction.

“Oh, God, why?!” You asked yourself, Jaehyun, and the big man upstairs.

“As for Instagram, Doyoung let me scroll through your feed whenever we met up.”

“Jaehyun, that’s a little creepy.”

“I would’ve messaged directly if you didn’t hate my guts so that was the next best thing.” He shrugged.

“You lurker,” you said as you shook your head. “Tell me you didn’t see everything.”

“Believe it or not, I have a life. I’ve been pretty busy...Mrs. Irwin.” So he did see everything, including your crush on drummer Ashton Irwin.

You smacked his arm. “Son of a!”

He laughed. “Y/N, the most vile thing you’d do is trash talk Real Madrid on Twitter. So...I trust you with my secret. But...I’m letting you decide. Say something or don’t, I’ll respect it and face the consequences.”

You weren’t going to expose Jaehyun. When he told you, you knew you would take his secret to the grave.

“I won’t say anything, doofus,” you said.

He perked up at “doofus”. “Y/N, thank you.”

“I do have one favor to ask you.”

“Anything,” he said eagerly, ready to buy you a car, a dozen handbags, and a plane trip to Fiji, if you asked.

You blew out a deep breath. “Don’t lurk anymore. Just follow me on Twitter and Instagram. As yourself. Not as messi_214 or as Doyoung. I won’t block you.”

“You promise?” His eyes were hopeful.

“I promise,” you replied.

Yuta was on his way to pick you up from the party. He was taking you to a late drive-in movie. Hero was coming along so you were even more ecstatic. You packed a change of clothes in Kaia’s car.

You and Jaehyun parted ways after your conversation. He surprised you by asking for your number but you didn’t think too much of it. He probably just wanted to commemorate your renewed friendship. It wasn’t like he was going to call tomorrow and ask to go play air hockey at the local arcade. So you gave your number to him. You thought he was just being nice. The next time you saw him would probably be at your high school’s ten year reunion.

Kaia walked you back to her car to unlock it for you. “So how did it go with Jaehyun? I’m dying here.”

You laughed. “He explained why he blew me off and...I saw things differently. His actions aren’t excusable. But...I forgave him.” You didn’t tell Kaia about the drug use but you told her everything else.

Kaia nodded. “I see. So this means he’s probably going to ask you out soon.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Y/N, he’s been keeping tabs on you for basically a decade. I hardly think it’s because he cares about your Stranger Things updates or your song recommendations,” Kaia grabbed some chapstick from her glove compartment as you grabbed your bag.

You shook your head. Jaehyun had moved on. He probably only liked you in the most innocent way in high school, too. He probably wouldn’t have asked you out again after that. Everyone had grown up and become different people. High school was long gone. He just wanted to make amends. And you did. “Kaia, no.”

Kaia sighed. “Y/N, he likes you.”

“Kaia, he does not.”

“I saw the way he looked at you.”

You were even more confused. “When?”

“When you two were talking outside. It was obvious. When you looked away from him, I saw it in his face. He looked like it physically ached him not to touch you.”

You laughed. “Kaia, you got all that from a look?”

Kaia rolled her eyes. “If stalking you on social media isn’t proof alone, you’re hopeless.”

You leaned onto her car and looked up at the night sky. They started fireworks in the backyard. “Even If he did, it wouldn’t mean anything.”

Because Yuta captivated you. And that was that.

Kaia got back to the party as you waited in front of the security gate for Yuta. A few minutes passed and he pulled up in his Challenger. You heard barking.

Yuta pulled down the passenger side window and gave a low whistle as he looked at you in your dress. “Have mercy.”

You laughed. “Hi, baby.”

Hero jumped from the backseat to the front to lick your chin from the window. “Hi, beebs! I missed you!”

“Hey! I’m waiting for my kiss,” Yuta whined.

You opened the passenger side door and were careful not to let Hero jump out. Hero moved to the backseat. You fastened your seatbelt and looked back at Yuta, who looked like an impatient kid.

“You have to put on your seatbelt to kiss me?” He asked.

It was funny. Regardless of a car moving or not, you automatically put on your seatbelt. You blushed, about to unfasten your seatbelt when he moved over and planted his lips on your mouth. He embraced you and you felt the warmth of his skin on your bare arms.

Your heartbeat was all over the place. You loved it when he took you by surprise. Yuta was a mischievous man who liked to mess with you and reward you all at once.

He tucked your side bangs behind your ear and just smiled at you in adoration. You looked stunning and he didn’t want to share you with anyone else.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“So I wasn’t the first soccer player to turn your brain into mush?” Yuta was annoyed.

You told him what you told Kaia about Jaehyun because you didn’t want to keep things from him and have it blow up in your face later.

“I’m afraid not, stud,” you said. You gave Yuta all kinds of cute nicknames.

“Pisses me off,” Yuta rolled his eyes as he muttered in Japanese. Hero was sleeping in the backseat. You were at the Galaxy Drive-In Theaters. The trailers were playing before Toy Story 4 would come on.

“Are you jealous?” You loved it.

“Damn straight. You know he’s into you, don’t you? I’ll kill him.” He aggressively grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth.

“Yuta,” you laughed. “He is not.”

“Don’t deny it, Y/N. That pisses me off even more.”

Honestly? It wasn’t that much of a stretch. But so what? Jaehyun had a life of his own away from Miami. God knows how many women he was sleeping with. He wouldn’t pursue you. Did he think you were hot? Probably. But that wasn’t enough incentive for him to go out of his way and ask you out. You would become an afterthought to him.

Maybe he just wanted to ease up on some of the guilt he carried. His drug use was enough for him to look back on. Earning your forgiveness must have helped him feel a little better.

“Fine,” you said. “Maybe he does like me but who cares? I like someone else.”

Yuta eased up a little, ready to hear you sing his praises.

“Taeyong is number one in my heart,” you said. Taeyong Lee had been your celebrity crush since his debut single “Let’s Get It (feat. A$AP Rocky)” came out in 2018.

“I hate you,” Yuta pouted as you snatched the popcorn.

“I know,” you said. You absolutely relished in messing with him.

Toy Story 4 was way better than you anticipated it to be and you found yourself tearing up at the slightly unexpected ending. You had a feeling it would end the way it did but you still cried. Yuta had his arm around you and you leaned in closer to him, enjoying the scent of him.

“You big baby,” Yuta said as he sniffled. It seemed he also had a soul.

“Hypocrite,” you muttered.

He laughed as he kissed the crown of your head. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” you managed to say without your voice cracking. Your first night with Yuta.

You got back to his house in record time. Hero fell back asleep in the living room, which left you and Yuta in his kitchen.

Yuta could tell you were nervous. “I can make tea. Or do you want something else to drink?”

He was so kind and considerate it killed you. “Tea’s good. I’m actually hungry. Mind if I steal a scone?” Yuta made the best blueberry scones and oddly enough, they were your favorite pastry.

He smiled. Your love of food made you all the more adorable to him. He loved feeding you. “Not at all, sweets.”

Oh yeah, he also had all sorts of cute nicknames for you, too. You two were so nauseatingly sweet that anyone who came into your vicinity needed a filling.

Once you two ate some scones and drank his favorite green tea, you walked into his bedroom.

He picked you up and sat you on his bed. His eyes were the most intense you’d ever seen them. He had his hands on your shoulders and leaned down to kiss you. You fell back on the bed and he got on top of you.

He kissed your neck and moved his way down the valley between your breasts. He looked back up at you, waiting for an answer. You nodded.

The thing about Yuta is that even though he liked to tease you and lived to make you turn red, he wanted you to feel safe and protected. He made you feel like the most precious thing in the world. Like you were above Aphrodite. So when he made love to you that night for the first time, you knew that no one could ever make you feel this good.

Back at Jaehyun’s party, your friends were dancing and having the time of their lives. Jaehyun surprised everyone when he halted the music once again. He stood at the top of the staircase again.

“I’ve been dying to tell you guys this all night. I was just waiting for the final confirmation from my manager. I am moving back to Miami because I am joining the Inter Miami CF team!!!!!” Jaehyun yelled at the top of his lungs.

Joanna and Taissa looked at each other and said. “Shit.”

Jaehyun looked out into the crowd and looked for you. He was so busy mingling with everyone but hoped to run into you later on so he could ask you to come see him play. But you were nowhere to be seen.

Part 4 (Coming Soon)

A/N: Thank you so much for the love for this fluff. I really appreciate it! So yes, you are correct...Someone is gonna die next chapter or get a black eye. I don’t know. But it should be fun!

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epicstuckyficrecs · 6 years ago

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Christmas 2018 fics!

Here’s a compilation of some Christmas-y fics posted this year! :) ( I put a * before the ones I’ve read!)

THIS IS THE EDITED VERSION OF THIS POST AFTER I MISTAKENLY PUT IT UP ON THE 24TH ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

* Leave Those Umbrellas At Home by rohkeutta (2K)

Bucky watches the watery snow come down and thinks about it, his mood deflating steadily. He imagines Steve going home the next morning, sitting down at his desk and opening his Super-Secret Sexcapade Journal and writing Bucky’s name in next to a carefully-thought Preparation & Performance Grade.

B+ for the effort to look nice naked, C- for being embarrassingly vanilla and wanting to do it face-to-face so he could scritch his fingers through Steve’s beard and hair. Not worth a repetition. Kinky Grade: F.

Bucky’s being uncharitable and he knows it, but Hangry Barnes can be a sad sack of shit when he wants to.

BYOFB (bring your own fake boyfriend) by amsch (calendulae) (3,5K)

Steve needs 1) a fake boyfriend and 2) ice skating lessons.

He currently has 1) a burning desire to prove Tony Stark wrong at their office holiday party and 2) a best friend who he might be deeply in love with.

* Let’s Make Our Own Traditions by debwalsh (3,8K)

A Stark Christmas party. Thor’s Asgardian mead stash. Steve Rogers and spiked eggnog. Bucky.

What could go wrong?

Where the Lovelight Gleams by Scout924 (4,7K)

"You go right on out that door and you go tell your Ma I said ‘no, thank you,’ and I will not be coming over for Christmas dinner. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky's just trying to make sure Steve's not alone for Christmas, especially since it's the first one he's had since his Ma died. And if he has to drag Christmas cheer through the door all by himself, well, that's what he'll do.

* It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year by stevergrsno (noxlunate) (5K)

“You should come over for a drink.” Christmas Stealing Hot Neighbor says instead of answering Steve’s very valid question.

“I really don’t think I should. Sounds like fraternizing with the enemy.” Steve says, even as he’s abandoning his tree and moving towards the gate.

“Look at is as a know thy enemy thing instead,” Christmas Stealing Hot Neighbor says before flashing Steve a smile and oh, oh no, Steve is screwed.

Aka Steve Rogers is competitive, Bucky Barnes is into his hot new neighbor, and Christmas Feelings ensue.

* two strangers in the bright lights by Claudia_flies (7K)

It really is an accident. Steve wouldn’t even call it a slip of the tongue, because what he said and the way it was heard were two different things.

Mistletoe Not Required by odetteandodile (8K)

Two months into their still blossoming relationship, Steve and Bucky: buy a Christmas Tree, babysit a Niece, and Realize some Things.

When Bucky arrives at Steve's apartment ready to decorate for Christmas, he instead finds Steve a little the worse for wear following a bad day in the avenging business. Bucky makes it HIS mission to prove his boyfriend chops taking care of him. But after the bruises fade (at a super soldier's healing pace, so like, FAST), Bucky's left feeling like there's something more he needs to say.

A few revelations lit by Christmas lights and with mood music by the one and only Bing Crosby, as Christmas truly calls for.

Part 3 of Sweater Weather

* Baby, It's Cold Outside by LeisurelyPanda (9K)

Steve hates snow. He hates winter. But he loves Christmas and he's been looking forward to it all semester. All he really wants is to get home so he can relax and spend the holiday with his Ma. Bucky loves snow. He loves winter. He's Jewish, so Christmas isn't a huge deal for him, but he loves the winter songs that come on when Christmas rolls around. So when a blizzard comes rolling in while he and Steve are driving home from college at the end of the semester, he's pretty excited. Steve hates it on principle. Unfortunately, they get caught in it and are forced to pull over and weather out the storm at the nearest cheap motel they can find. There's just one problem. There's only one bed.

Can they survive three days of awkwardness and sexual tension? Will their feelings emerge or will they tiptoe around each other as they always have? Will it end in disaster or will it give them the chance to find happiness at last?

The 12 Trees of Christmas by GoodbyeBlues (9K)

'Suddenly 'soft' and 'dark' and 'lush' were no longer adjectives fit to be tied to just his Douglas Fir, because the man from the ladder was approaching him, a shy smile on his flawless face, and Steve was totally gone.'

...

Steve purchases an outrageous number of Christmas trees and accidentally creates a tiny apartment forest, all because he needs an excuse to visit adorably shy tree farmer Bucky Barnes. Lots of fluff and Christmas feels abound! <3

(i'll be home for christmas) if only in my dreams by crinklefries (13K)

“I told my best friend that story,” Steve says after a moment, voice thick. “When we were seven years old. And he told me he’d do the same for me. And that year, when I opened my present, inside was a small wooden bird to hang on the tree.”

Bucky looks up at Steve, the little bird in his hand and Steve--well he’s smiling.

“I don’t remember,” Bucky whispers.

“I’ll tell you,” Steve says.

***

(or; six Christmases Bucky Barnes doesn't remember--and one he will)

* Feline Fatale by roe87 (16K)

Bucky Barnes is an executive's assistant. He is shy, timid, and no one tends to notice him.

That is until his boss, Alexander Pierce, catches him snooping around one night and murders him for it.

Except, Bucky doesn't die, he's saved by some kind of miracle.

Now he has to juggle two identities: Bucky Barnes, shy assistant, who gets asked out on a date by a nice man named Steve Rogers... and his alter ego, a masked cat-man who's out for revenge, fighting on rooftops with that meddlesome do-gooder Captain America.

Some say cats have nine lives. Bucky's just begun his.

* Maybe This Christmas by deadto27 (24K)

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

* Make My Wish Come True (all i want for christmas is you) by chicklette (20K, 10/12)

Steve's spent his whole life pining for Bucky Barnes. Why should this year be any different?

A Holiday fic that begins on New Year's Eve and wraps up on Christmas Day.

*If Only In My Dreams by odetteandodile (28K)

Bucky is a highly successful cooking and lifestyle blogger, the gay New England Pioneer Woman if you will. He writes all about life in his Connecticut home with his D.H. (darling husband). Only problem? It’s all complete fiction. He actually lives in a shitty Brooklyn apartment, is single as hell, and has visited Connecticut exactly one time at the age of eight.

When his agent Sam informs him that he's been offered an exclusive sponsorship deal with Stark Media and a three book contract to go with it, Bucky's forced to fess up to Sam, who's predictably...displeased. But Sam's also convinced the deal is too good to miss—even if they have to put on a little bit of a show in order to get it.

So Tony and Pepper descend on Bucky and Sam's fake home for Christmas with a devastatingly handsome War Hero in tow, and their already complicated plan quickly gets even more complicated as Bucky finds himself falling head over heels for Steve. Can he keep it together just for the holidays? Did he ever have it together in the first place?

* Get Jingle With It by mambo (41K)

Bucky stands alone in a room full of Steve’s coworkers wearing a light-up Hanukkah sweater and holding a plate of terrible spinach puffs. It’s Christmas Eve, and they’ve been snowed-in, stuck with Steve’s coworkers for nearly a week at their company retreat. Steve is flirting with an asshole across the room while Bucky watches one of Steve’s overly-familiar coworkers making his way over to him, probably to ask Bucky about his sex life for the fiftieth time since this week began. Why does everyone keep asking about Bucky’s sex life? Because everyone at this terrible party thinks that he and Steve are not only a couple, but the cutest couple at this whole shindig. And that apparently makes them feel entitled to all of the information about Bucky's private life that they can get.

They aren’t entitled, and he and Steve aren't a couple. But that doesn’t mean that Steve isn’t the love of Bucky’s life.

Bucky nibbles on the edge of the nasty spinach puff and nearly gags.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

AND THE SEQUEL:

* Jingle Bell Thot by mambo (8K)

“Holy hell,” Steve says. “What?” “Tony’s trying to kidnap Santa Claus.”

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #stucky fic rec #christmas

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shabre-legacy · 5 years ago

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Stolen Home (Leikael’s Story) Chapter 4

I don’t have a title for this one yet, I can’t seem to think of something that works. This is gonna be a long one. I wrote a lot here. I always appreciate feedback, even if it’s criticism, I’m trying to get better. With that out of the way, here’s the story

*Waking up in the morning was not fun, saying it sucked would be being kind. Her head was pounding and she felt like shit. She rolled over and froze, she was in a bed, it wasn’t her bed on her ship, where was she? She blinked up at the ceiling as she tried to sort through the fog in her head. That’s right, Ord Mantell, Viidu’s warehouse, Corso’s room, she’d come back completely drunk and looking for bench, but Corso either wanted something from her that she wasn’t going to be giving, or he was just that damn nice that he just gave her his bed, and then had slept on the floor between the door and the bed. It seemed sweet, but she’d put money on the former, no one was that nice, he was probably just playing the long game. She’d seen it before. He’d just have to figure out what she’d taught others, she didn’t put out just because people were nice and gave her stuff. She looked around, she’d managed to unbuckle her belt and drop her blasters before she’d collapsed, but had forgotten to grab a blaster to put under the pillow like she normally would. Apparently, Corso had gotten up earlier than she. Her blasters and belt had been neatly placed in clear sight on the workbench and on the small nightstand next to her was a tall cup of water, still cold it looked like. She groaned and sat up, her head still spinning and drained almost the whole cup. She grabbed her blasters and shoved on her boots before stepping out of the room and running straight into an overly cheerful Corso. He was sitting on a bench, just past the door to the room, the angle so that he could see the door, but not inside, eating some sort of something. All she could really smell was Caff. He smiled at her, “Hey, you’re up earlier than I thought you’d be.”

She groaned, A MORNING PERSON. She hated morning people, though mostly when she was hungover. “Not sure I’m alive yet.”

He laughed at that, “You were pretty wasted when you made it back last night. Speaking of, you probably want to wash up after yesterday's runs. Most of the boys are still out getting Caff, so if you move quick, you should have the ‘fresher to yourself for a few minutes.”

She had to smile at the prospect of a shower, even if it was a communal one, maybe it would help her feel less sick and make her head hurt less.

She nodded at him “Thanks.” and dragged herself, her pack feeling like it weighed as much as a bantha, to the ‘fresher. A few minutes later, feeling much more alive, she was pulling up her hair as she heard voices in the main warehouse. Viidu’s boys must be back from breakfast. She moved out of the room quickly and crossed the room, spotting Corso sitting at his workbench, tinkering with something, as she passed. She paused and leaned against the door. Her head had cleared a lot during her shower and as soon as she found some Caff, she’d be good to go. “Hey, I don’t often say this, but thanks... for last night… and this morning, you didn’t have to be nice, so thanks.”

He half turned to face her, the project of his desk seemed to be some type of disassembled blaster, probably. “Of course, couldn’t let ya just crash on a bench round here. If you’re lookin’ for Caff, the Cantina usually has a few pots out ‘bout this time..”

Ok, could this kid read her mind? Or maybe he just had enough experience dealing with people with hangovers, didn’t really seem the type to have many of his own, course she still didn’t really know him that well. “You might just be a lifesaver Corso Riggs.” She beamed at him, might as well keep the kid happy while they were working together, a few smiles usually worked on most men and he was nice so it wasn’t even really acting. He was a friendly sort, and sweet, he might actually be one of those few in the galaxy who could be called a good man, a smile was easy enough, and seemed to come far too easily around him, “see ya for the meeting in a bit.” She gave a quick wave and headed out to get Caff. As she walked, she pulled out her datapad. She had a few new messages from various contacts and some members of the old crew, those rogues were family, and one from Natamai. Leikael was a bit concerned, she’d figured Nats would be busy with whatever she was up too. The last message she’d gotten, said Nats had gotten a message from one of her contacts about some kind of job and grabbed a shuttle off Nar Shad.

She quickly placed her order, got her Caff and found a place to sit, glancing through the short message. ‘Hey Flip, hope that delivery went well. Braden’s dead. I’m working with his kid now, slicer named Mako, seems smart. Got to schmooze a Hutt to get my force-damned sponsorship to the Great Hunt. Also I’m competing in the Great Hunt. That was Braden’s job offer. Chat later, got killing to do. ~ Viper’ It was kinda adorable how she still used the nicknames they’d gotten when they were first reunited on Nar Shaddaa. Sure, they were stupid ass gang kid names, not even proper gangster/criminal names, but silly teen nicknames, and they had been replaced by the nicknames other crews, other friends, new family, gave them. But they still held that air of dark nostalgia of a time when all they had was each other. She chose to only remember the good parts of that time, nothing worth memorializing had happened anyways, so there was no record, except silly kids nicknames, and a couple scars.

She sighed and typed out a quick response. She didn’t like that she had to admit that this job had gone so wrong, but at least it’d be fixed soon. ‘Hey Vipes, The Great Hunt, really? Sounds big. Heard it’s run by Mandalorians, you should have fun at least. Try and be a bit nice sometimes. Sorry to hear about Braden, he’d be glad you’re looking after his kid though. Delivery went to hell. Kriffing force-damned space ape stole the Siren. Working to get her back, got a plan. Be safe. ~ Flip.

She sent the message quickly and wandered back to Viidu’s office, getting there just as everyone started to stir across the Fort. Syreena had spotted her and told her to just head up and she’d let Viidu know, so she took a moment to reorder her pack and adjust her holsters before reclining a bit. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Viidu and Corso wandered in and the planning began.

She looked across the table at them as Viidu sat down for another large meal. “Alright, I want to get out there and get this done before it gets too late in the day. We’ve got the basic plan down, any tips on getting into this Separatist fortress?”

Viidu swallowed and stared at her, “Well, getting into Mannett point will be extra tricky. For one thing, you have to swim there.” She raised an eyebrow at that. She could swim still, probably. She’d learned to swim by 4 like most kids on planets like Ord; so that wasn’t a probably, it was more the why was swimming now a requirement? She glanced quizzically between the two men, silently asking for an explanation.

“When the separatists invaded, they blew up the only bridge leading onto the island. Turned it into their private resort.” Well, that seemed like a spectacularly stupid idea. What idiot was leading these guys? They should just shoot that person for incompetence.

“You’ll be walking into the Rancor’s den, captain.” Hadn’t these guys learned by now, she loved a challenge, and she loved showing off. There wasn’t a Sep on this planet who was anywhere near a match for her.

She couldn’t help but brag a bit. “I’ll do it blindfolded, just for fun.”

Viidu was either a very cautious man, or he didn’t think a woman could handle a job like this. Or maybe it was just her specifically he doubted, no matter which he apparently didn’t feel reassured by her confidence. “Don’t get cocky. That place is crawling with people who’d like to blast that grin off your face. If you download the separatists computer files onto this datapad and bring it back here, we’ll handle the rest.”

“I’d rather go with you, Captain. My vibroblade’s pretty good for choppin’ separatists off at the knee. I call it “Hewie” So Corso was a fighter after all. And had a real dislike for the Seps, something she could work with easily, though it was annoying that she kept learning things about the handsome and charmingly sweet man with the far too cute country accent. She’d never heard a mantellian accent sound as attractive as it did coming from him. Nope, she shut that thought down quick as well. Distance was her friend and she would keep it so.

“Forget about the separatists, Corso. I want that slicer kit here before the Captain comes back” Efficient, two would get through Mannett Point faster, but with more notice. Splitting the work and using a single infiltrator. Each task might take a bit longer, but the time saved overall would balance that out.

“I’m on it, boss. Good luck at Mannett Point, Captain.” Corso nodded to her, and walked out.

Viidu sighed and shook his head. “Last thing I need is Corso turning ‘one man army’ out there. Kid will just get himself killed for nothing. Separatists wiped out his family a couple of years ago. Corso took it personal.”

So that was the cause of the hate, she could understand that one. Losing your family was almost enough to break a person, sometimes anger was all that’d keep you going. “I don’t blame him for wanting revenge.”

“Mixing personal grudges and business is like dropping a thermal detonator into a fuel dump.”

Of course, as her life was going these days, she didn’t even get a chance to respond to that one before Syreena walked in with more bad news.

“Viidu, there’s someone named Rogun calling on the holo. He sounds upset.”

“Oh that’s all I need! Stall him for me, sweetheart. Remember the plan: Disrupt mannett point’s power relays, get inside Reki’s old home and use those schematics to enter the separatist base. When you’re in, slice into the separatist computer and download everything onto my datapad. Good luck.”

She sighed, “don’t worry so much, I got this.”. And spinning around she walked out of the office and jumped off the balcony, because she was bored, mostly. She didn’t like not having her own space. It was making her itchy. She tucked into a roll as she hit the ground and jogged out of the office and through the fort. Another run through this goddamn dustball. The sooner she could get her ship and get off this kriffing planet the better.

Shadows were tricky things during the day, always changing and unfortunately that meant there weren’t many for her to hide in as she slipped onto the beach and made her way to the edge of the water. Unfortunately there was no good way to get across, nowhere covered enough to redress so she could stay dry. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about cold on top of everything else. She slipped into the water and started making her way across to the island. Swimming was kind of difficult, it’d been years. It was an old, out-of-practice, but remembered skill. Things were easier when she finally slipped ashore. The Seps felt so secure that they’d just left speeders lying around, between them and the usual barricades and crates, there was enough cover as long as she stayed quiet.

Luckily, for Leikael, being a smuggler meant that she could do damn good work being quiet and hiding. Getting into the fort wasn’t all that hard, but then she realized why. Droids! Kriffing war droids all over the damn place! Damned things were tough to take down with her small pistols and loud as a misfiring swoop bike. Every time she shot one down, she’d have to dive to cover in another spot, because the kriffing droid would draw attention from the kriffing separatists and she just wanted to catch a kriffing break. Didn’t the galaxy care that her ship had been stolen and she just wanted it back.

It didn’t seem like she was the only one trying to get in here though. She caught sight of what appeared to be a lone republic soldier shooting their way through a few times, but hadn’t managed to get a good look.

Eventually she managed to make it to the last power relay and reset the damn thing. Now all she had to do was break into that creeps place, which would be much more satisfying if it wasn’t the exact thing that he’d told her to do. She’d never been a fan of doing what people told her and if she couldn’t avoid men like Reki, she preferred not helping them or screwing them over. She’d met far too many in her travels. They were everywhere in the galaxy, but this was how to get her ship back so there was nothing to be done. Maybe she could shoot some holes in the walls or something.

She slipped around the corner, quickly firing a few shots, clearing the path to the door and ran inside. Ok, step one done. Now step two get the information to get other information. Ugh, so much work and not even fun work. She started working the code that Reki had explained and it was so much duller than she’d thought, and she’d almost fallen asleep before. She groaned aloud “I became a starship captain so I wouldn’t have to do homework” It wasn’t quite true, but it also was. Flying a starship didn’t require all this dull dull DULL work. What kind of twisted mind actually enjoyed this?

Quickly falling into her skills, fighting, sneaking, bluffing. Leikael slipped through their base. This part was actually kind of fun. The adrenaline rush was thrilling. She’d fallen in love with thrills and risks years before and this was the kind of challenge that she enjoyed. Get in, get something that people want and get out. Only one person even tried to talk to her and she was able to bluff him easily. She was smooth, when she wanted to be anyways. Getting out was almost as easy, until she got to the outer area just past the damn wall. Of course, in theme with the whole kriffing trip to this rock, some idiot spotted her, decided she didn’t belong and brought in a whole bunch of his buddies to stop her.

Kael moved quickly, trying to get out before they pinned her down, but she just wasn’t quite fast enough and the beach area she could get to was completely covered.

She quickly leapt behind another stack of crates, looking around frantically. ‘There has to be another way off this damned island, there has to’. She felt the excruciating burn as one of the Seps got lucky and managed to get past her enough to shoot her. The kriffing shot had grazed her side and slammed into her upper thigh, another one caught her cheek, and a third hit her arm. Damn it all! She was in serious trouble, there were Seps coming from every direction it seemed. ‘There’s nothing for it then, it’s this or death and I am NOT dying here!’ She took two breaths and summoning what strength she had left, ran at the bridge, firing the whole way, creating a hole she could run through. Her arms spun through the air and she fell into the dark water, disappearing below its surface and vanished from view.

Several hours later, the sun was starting to hang lower in the sky and the clouds promised rain as Leikael dragged herself to the gates of Fort Garnik. She was injured, bleeding (if slower than she had been), covered in mud and completely exhausted. As she tried to head inside, she was stopped. ‘I’m too tired to deal with this’. The guards at the gate were different from before and she hadn’t interacted with them before. They tried to direct her into the Refugee camp and simply refused to listen when she tried to tell them she was working for Viidu, which had gotten her access with no questions before. She must look worse than she thought, but she was too frustrated with these rookies to try and explain shit. They just kept telling her that refugees weren’t allowed in unless there was an emergency and she needed to stay in the camp. She got more frustrated and so did they, until she was shouting. “Don’t believe me then just call and ask him, or his security guy Riggs!” She probably threw in a large number of expletives and probably insulted them too, but she wasn’t paying attention anymore. Her cheek was burning and the throbbing in her side and her leg were now impossible to ignore. She was having trouble standing because of it and honestly just wanted to crawl back to her ship and it’s cozy, comfortable, safe, rooms.

Corso was busy in the warehouse when his Holo chimed. He’d gotten the slicer kit, and then went about the rest of his work while waiting for the Captain to get back from Mannett Point. He was starting to worry more than a little at this point. She should have been back hours ago, she’d left early in the morning, and it was now late afternoon. He knew Viidu was worried too, if only for what they were gonna do if they couldn’t get those blasters to Rogun before he wore out his patience. He shoulda gone with her, what had Viidu been thinking, sending her in alone, and why in siths hells had he gone along with it? Sure, Viidu was his boss, and the Captain, Leikael, she’d wanted him to call her Leikael, was more than capable, but still. She was one person, with small blasters, and blast it, the woman was small. He had no idea how she’d be able to handle a situation if her blasters failed on her.

He shook his head and turned back to his work. There was always something to do here, it kept him busy and usually focused, but today, he just couldn’t pay much attention. When he wasn’t imagining how he’d pay Skavak back for stealing his favorite blaster and stabbing him in the back, he was worrying about Leikael. When his thoughts weren’t occupied with one of those, well they weren’t the most proper of thoughts. He’d woken up early this morning and when he’d gotten up, he’d ended up taking a moment to just look. Leikael had rolled under the blankets at some point and he couldn’t stop staring at the incredible woman fast asleep in his bed. She’d looked comfortable and peaceful, her dark hair had worked it’s way out of it’s restraints and fanned across the pillow. He’d picked up her blasters and placed them on the work bench with his own when he’d been spreading the camping pad out the night before. With it rolled up and tucked away again, well, if he’d not been aware of the events of last night, the situation might have looked very different. He couldn’t help the slight thrill he felt at the sight before him. He’d quickly squashed it though, he’d been raised better than that. But the sight continued to pull his attention in a rather inappropriate direction the rest of the day. Nope. He wasn’t going there. She was someone he was working with and he would respect that professional relationship regardless of what his treacherous brain might have to say about it.

He pulled out the Holo and answered it. It was one of the newer soldiers in the fort. He’d met him in the Cantina a couple weeks before. People got to know each other in a fort like this, or at least recognize those who were here frequently. The soldier apparently was dealing with some situation down at the gate. “We’re not sure if she’s a Sep or a Refugee or what, claims she works for your boss. Could you come down to the gate for an ID.” It wasn’t a completely uncommon request. Every now and then, someone would show up claiming they were working for the boss and he’d have to go down and verify that he’d never seen them before and they weren’t on the payroll. He was hoping that this time it’d be Leikael returning and that she hadn’t died on that island.

His hope turned out correct as he approached the Fort wall and saw her standing there blocked by three guards. She was swaying and seemed to be avoiding putting weight on one leg. She was soaked, covered in blood and mud, with torn clothes and he could see at least 2 blaster wounds from where he was, there were probably more hidden, she really didn’t look in good shape, but she was alive, that was what was important. Everything else could heal. He quickly stepped over. “Hey there, Captain, looks like ya made it back in one piece.” He looked over to the soldier who’d called him “She’s with us.” They nodded and stepped aside as Leikael started limping forwards. Corso stepped forward, she must be more injured then he’d thought. He reached over and helped take some of her weight. “Let’s get you to the medcenter. Things must have gotten rough.”

She laughed quietly, but there was a strained, hollow quality to it. “Ya, well, that drop from the bridge didn’t do me any favors either.”

Corso looked down at her a little shocked, “Ya jumped off the bridge?”

“It was that or the kriffing beachfront shooting gallery.”

He sighed, “ Guess that’d be the better option then, shoulda gone with ya though.”

This got an actual smile out of her. “Didn’t need backup, got out alive and that’s good enough.” They reached the medcenter and by this point, Corso was practically carrying her, she seemed to be having a lot of trouble walking. He left her in the care of the med droid and promised to let Viidu know she was back and if she needed help getting back to the warehouse, he was just a call away. He moved quickly back to the warehouse, the boss would want to know that Leikael was back and he still had a few things to take care of before he was done for the day. Best to get them out of the way, seemed like things were getting even more unpredictable then they’d been before she’d shown up. At least he wouldn’t be getting bored soon.

Leikael laid back on the bed in the medbay as the med droids fussed at her. A few doses of kolto and some bandages and she was almost good to go. The cut on her face wouldn’t even scar, which was nice, she already had one prominent scar there, another one probably would make it worse. The only one causing real trouble was the thigh wound, but she had a pressure bandage on and it wasn’t deep. Another few minutes for the kolto to finish sealing the wound and she’d be good to walk, by morning she’d probably be able to run, it’d hurt, but that was what pain hypos and stims were for. She sighed and tried to relax, but even as tired as she was, she still hated med centers and wasn’t really made to sit still. She could really only relax on her baby, and the Siren was no closer to being found then she was yesterday. At least, she wasn’t stuck there much longer and as soon as she was given the all clear, she was allowed to change out of her ruined clothes. She didn’t have many clean clothes left. She hadn’t packed for a long stay. She limped carefully to the warehouse and tried to mask her limp as much as she could, nobody else needed to know she was injured. She thought she managed it fairly well and was nearly back to her cocky, sarcastic self by the time she arrived.

Though, she figured out real quick when she arrived that the warehouse workers here were just as boorish as anywhere else. Some of them had cornered Syreena and clearly weren’t backing off. She rolled her eyes, of course they had to do this while she still needed Viidu’s help so she couldn’t just shoot them. But breaking a nose or two, she could probably get away with that, but they needed to move away from Syreena first. She was quick though, so she wandered over and leaned against a crate, making sure Syreena saw her, and as soon as the man speaking to her ‘Brocko’ or something stupid, noticed her, she spun a quick tale about Rogun. She’d been around enough to know how things worked when a gangster took over somebody’s operations. To the victors go the spoils and unfortunately in the underworld that included everything and everyone involved in any operation. Of course, her little tale sounded just enough like truth that they stepped back and started moving away. She stepped in front of Brocko as he moved beyond an arms reach of Syreena. “Listen up, space ape, you go after her again and it won’t be Rogun or Viidu you’ll be running from.” She punctuated her statement with a fast, hard punch to the face. He stumbled back into one of his buddies and when another moved toward her, she took him down with a well aimed kick. She stepped past them and took Syreena’s arm, leading her away as she called over her shoulder. “Let that be a lesson, you’re lucky I didn’t feel like shooting you today.” They moved over to the stairs and Leikael took a moment to make sure that Syreena was ok, they chatted for a moment and she sent the girl ahead of her while she watched the guys limp away, sending angry glares back at her. She returned them with her best self satisfied smirk and when they vanished from sight, deeper into the warehouse, she turned and headed upstairs herself.

The meeting went pretty quick, with Viidu clearly relieved to see her after how long she’d been gone. She handed over the data so his people could start going through it and he said he had a plan for the next day when she was healed up. She’d smiled and agreed to meet first thing in the morning and tanked Corso for his help. A few minutes later, she was heading to the Cantina for a meal and a drink. Her leg was still throbbing, if not nearly as bad and she’d need something to help her relax, even as tired as she was, there was something about almost dying that left her wired. Well that and not having her own space.

Of course she didn’t have the energy for dancing that night, so she just sat at the cantina bar and tried to ignore the pain from the various injuries. Jumping off that bridge was turning into a worse idea by the hours and she couldn’t afford to take more pain hypos right then since she needed to save them for the next day. The bartender and waitress were different then they’d been the previous night, but that was expected, probably too many people for what jobs were available. After an hour or two, she’s feeling pretty good and started to consider heading back when the bartender made his way over and started talking. They chatted for a couple minutes before he asked her name, but as soon as she said it, his face changed, becoming more somber. “Shabre eh? Any relation to Tov, Zesr or Nodeu Shabre?”

She had to admit, she was surprised to hear her cousins names. She hadn’t spoken to them since she was 6 and honestly thought they were off planet. Figured any survivors would have left quick after the war ended. “Yeah, my cousins, haven't talked in years though, why?”

If he could look more serious, he would have. “You haven’t heard then? Sorry to break the bad news to ya, but they were hit by Seps last week. They were holding the siege on Talloran when Seps hit their units. All three went down in the fight.”

She blinked slowly. Her mind racing to try and catch up. Sure, for the longest time, Nats had been her only family. They had no contact with the rest of the family and by the time they could, they didn’t know how anymore. But still, it… it hurt. She’d thought she was past this. No family left but Nats, everyone but the cousins dead and the cousins so distant at that point, they might have well been strangers, but now they were gone and she’d never got to tell them she was alive, or that she was free, or that she had a ship. She’d never even gotten to say goodbye to them. She was now truly alone. No blood left but Nats. Her cousins were gone. She swallowed hard, feeling the tears she’d held back the last few days threatening the corners of her eyes with this new wave of tears that wanted to flow. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and tried to compose herself. “Thank...thank you for telling me” Her head suddenly felt too heavy and fell forward to rest her forehead in her hand. “Damn it. Kriffing Seperatists… Kriffing stupid planet. Force-Damn it.”

The bar-tender clearly had experience with people processing the loss of family. There were too many lost on the once peaceful, mostly farming world. He simply patted her shoulder and poured her another drink. She stared at it for a moment before downing the whole thing. She ended up sitting at the bar for another couple hours, many of those around her had heard the conversation and she’d had more than a few of them send her sympathy drinks. Eventually, she just had enough of people and just wanted to get away. She took a breath and forced herself to her feet and dragged herself back to the warehouse, maybe Corso would let her crash on that camping kit, she wasn’t going to just assume he’d give her the bed again. Of course, the man was.... Was something… couldn’t think what. He’d just seen her, smiled, shook his head at her getting drunk again and simply reminded her to put her blasters up before insisting she take the bed and rolling the camping pads out in front of the door again. Once again, making sure she was safe without her asking him to or even seeming to expect something for it. She couldn’t figure him out. Ugh, no more thinking for her, thinking hurt too much. Everything hurt too much today. She lay in the dark and tried to sleep, but sleep just wouldn’t come.

Eventually, she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and they started leaking out. No matter how tightly she squeezed her eyes, she couldn’t stop them. She hadn’t cried in ages, but everything all together was just too much. Her shoulders started to shake and quiet sobs choked out, barely audible, but still loud enough to hear in the dead stillness of night. She heard rustling and the bed dipped as someone sat down and a hand gently rested on her shoulder. “Hey, hey, shhh, what’s wrong?” Corso said, softly and a bit awkwardly, gently rubbing her shoulder. Of course, she’d woken him, but she just couldn’t give a damn just then. She couldn’t care much about anything. “What happened tonight?”

She forced herself to sit up and leaned back against the wall. He was very close to her in the small bed and hadn’t put a shirt on when he’d gotten up. In any other situation, she might have noticed more, but she just hurt too much. She felt so lost and alone and scared and honestly gutted with everything over the last few days. “Sorry, stress and alcohol make me weepy, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I know. Are you gonna be ok? You’ve been up to a lot last couple days”

“Yeah, I just almost died today, and I make a point to avoid that and I couldn’t and it hurt pretty bad, and my ship is my home, its...it’s everything and now she’s gone and I don’t know if I’ll manage to get her back, and I don’t like being here, I really hate this planet, and if all that wasn’t enough, I just found out that the last of my cousins were killed last week and I didn’t know and I never got to....” She choked off as a fresh round of tears overwhelmed her.

She felt the bed shift and an arm wrapped around her shoulders. “That’s hard, I know what it’s like to lose family. You learn to live eventually, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.” Maybe it was the alcohol, no, she was absolutely going to blame everything on the alcohol. But those words, soft and quiet and heartfelt, they let her finally break and she sobbed. Turning into him and wrapping her arms around his chest as she finally broke down and cried out all the pain she’d been carrying, her family, her ship, almost dying, how alone she felt, everything poured out as tears streamed down her cheeks and she shook in his arms. He didn’t say anything else, just quietly held her as she sobbed. At some point they shifted, so they were more comfortable, as the tears just kept flowing. Eventually, the tears stopped at they both drifted off, neither was really aware of when that happened. The night and Leikael’s tears creating a heavy blanket of quiet surrounding them in that moment.

#my writing #stolen home #leikael shabre #fanfics #the smuggler and the farmboy #corso riggs #swtor #natamai shabre

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zweiherzen · 5 years ago

Note

✘ (Apex Verse) What are you hoping to accomplish here? *Why* are you here? In the games I mean.

— ANONYMOUS USER // My muse has to tell the truth for 10 asks.

he hadn’t expected to be herded into much sponsorship or promotional media. Or any media at all, for that matter, given his shaky popularity — if he has any to start with in the first place — among the Games’ various competitors. There are many things that Cardiac could be considered: cruelly disloyal; blatantly violent; plainly brutish. But he’s certainly not imperceptive, and it has not at all slipped his notice that he is no pleasantly received character among the public. Though he’ll admit that the spite towards his methods is not exactly the best kept secret.

It’s a good thing that the majority of his ( very recognisable ) facial structure remains hidden in the arena — cheekbones and thin lips tucked away beneath the thick of his mask — and that those who openly detest him in the Games don’t seek out content other than what of the tournaments is publicly broadcasted. Some do make it their business to pursue that which they hate, however, and those few are hard pressed to keep quiet about their hatred. Cardiac would have praised the mindless courage it takes to approach in broad daylight, bringing fitful accusations to fling at his name and his sheer lack of morality … well. He would, if it weren’t for the abundance of spiteful stares — and oftentimes more than just that — thrown his way once the bareness of his façade is stripped away. It’s not so difficult for a clever pair of eyes accustomed enough to the peculiarity of his upper face, or for a careful ear keen enough to latch onto familiar timbre and accent. It’s no wonder that Cardiac has found himself occasionally considering one of Bloodhound’s masks, hung on gaily display in most shops, when a trip down the block chases him off the streets with fairly unpleasant encounters.

The impossible does happen, however.

He’d like his mask on, he’d told the agents. Luckily for him, they’d responded — with the slightest hint of coarse disapproval, barely perceptible when spooned into a healthy serving of incredibly corporate and businesslike ( greedy ) enthusiasm — that his audience adored that consistent hint of mystery about him. Mystery adorned in no small amount of blood and gore and guts, of course … but a lucrative and compelling brand of mystery nonetheless.

Questions and answers are the entertainment of the day, he’s readily informed. He is expected to deliver whatever he pleases, so long as it keeps viewers riveted to the stream. There’s little else expected of him except that, when enquiries are offered forth, he must in kind offer them something exciting. Something devious. Even something so detestably awful that it incites rage and disgust, if it so amuses him. Whatever he must, whether it be truth or anything but, to keep the little counter on the stream rising, or at the least constant.

Not an issue. He has always been exceedingly skilled at putting up a show.

Enquiries are drawn by chance from the submissions ( of which there are none-too-few, despite the hatred that comes always with the utterance of his name ). Those entered alongside a generous donation return higher chances of having their morbid curiosities satisfied — or, in some unfortunate cases, laughed aside — by one of the Games’ most gruesome killers. A Legend Cardiac is not, many have agreed. But a killer ? yes, and a most efficient one, at that.

As it turns out, for a demographic in attendance at the livestream of an acclaimed killer, the majority seem awfully interested only in the mundane. Questions of morning routine, favourite coffee roasts, family life, are drawn one after another. Most he entertains, though the more personal he chases aside with vagueness and chortles. The chat is still chastising him for dodging some cryptic request from an anonymous viewer to ‘ hit the dab, ’ and they have just entangled themselves in the thick of proclaiming him a coward when the next question’s drawn and flashed on the screen before him.

> What are you hoping to accomplish here? > Why are you here? In the games I mean.

He stills, laughter faltering to a steady silence as he reads the question over once more. A more personal question than he’s expected to receive this evening, though it may seemingly pale in comparison to requests for his entire career and life history. Unadorned as it is, it has unknowingly tapped into a reservoir of something so much more than the simple and brutish show Cardiac puts on for the Games.

He considers a lie. Or a humorous quip. Both are just as likely to please the crowd and save him the trouble of baring the inside of his head, exposed for all to see. But perhaps, just this once, a hint of honesty might change up the game a bit.

“ Solace. A quiet bar. I was passing by in my travelling — occupying myself with drink for company. Nothing particularly exciting; I’ve circuited through many times. Whiskey, ” he adds in response to the chat’s immediate enquiries. He remembers the taste of it well, the sting of alcohol on his tongue seared into his mind alongside that moment. He remembers, vividly: the uproar in the bar as something flickers across the few monitors mounted above the counter … something shocking enough that patrons surge forward in their seats to slam glass against tabletops, the bar hosting such a multitude of horrified moans that they seem to echo, multiplying, against one another. These are mixed in with the peppering of distant cheers, all promptly hushed once they are met by fellow patrons with further revulsion.

The Gauntlet, perhaps? Another defying act of bravery as tragic as the case, flitting about here and there, of a boy who’s injured his legs all for the sake of a record?

A crane of the neck was all it took to peer over at the counter from his seat. All it took to seize him, wholly and unequivocally, as he caught sight the monitor — of blood splattered across concrete. Of gaseous fumes curling at the feet of a man who moves with a brand of deliberation that Ludwig has never seen in any stride save for his own. It’s a sort of deliberation, terrifying and otherworldly, that can be rarely derived from the set of brows and from that fire which lives within the eyes of men haunted … men riveted by the prospects of something so much grander than themselves. It’s a fire that turns them into ghosts of godliness, stalking between realms of that mundane tedium which most of humanity content themselves with living within … reaching, ever-hungry, for a knowledge most men only dream of scratching the surface of. It’s a fire that eats at those it possesses, driving them to create and to destroy, to seek the breaching of that ever thinning line between life and death.

He walked away from Solace’s bar that evening with the shadow of death still stalking behind his eyelids,and with a name pried from a nearby patron who knows just enough about the Apex Games to provide the information that he needs.

Caustic.

He’s babbling, live, without thinking about the words that come from his mouth. He hardly cares. His mind is occupied with the startlingly vivid memory of his retreat to his rented room that night, how the rest of the late evening and the hours of the days that followed were consumed in digging out buried footage from the Apex Games that he’d never before taken much interest in. The footage is poorly edited, mediocre in terms of entertainment at most. Quite clearly catered to the general public. A bloodsport is no novel concept, but whoever runs the Games now do the gruesome stories of the old tradition no justice. He tolerates the grating narration, sifting through the many, many clips only for a chance to spot the merciless force of a gloved fist caving in competitors’ unwitting skulls. A chance to watch the lethal deliberation of those eyes again as bright gases swallow prospective Legends in a cloud of death.

“ I’d never quite seen anything like it. I still haven’t seen anything like it. If I close my eyes now, ” and he does so, with a slight lean back into the plush of his seat, “ I can see it all still, in such vivid detail. The wonders of a sharp memory! You could say that I was — inspired.

“ The Games were never so appealing until I knew that men like him chose them as grounds for their work. Glory and money are decent enough rewards, and I always appreciate the extra funding for my more fantastic projects. That, along with the wonderful abundance of living subjects that come pouring in for their chance at fame and fortune. All mingling in the arena, ready for their eventual contribution to my work. If they will die — and there is bound to be death in a bloodsport — at least they will do having played their part in something much more important than themselves… oh, but I came to the Games for more than just that. ”

Sullenness overcomes, breaching grinning visage and swallowing the giddy veneer of cheer into a drastic sobriety. He’s quiet as fingers curl across the damp surface of his glass, seeking anchorage: something tangible in this moment of overwhelming veneration. There is reverence quivering in hushed words when he next speaks, eyes watching some far point in the distance; the pad of his finger drags condensation across the shine of the table.

“ Nothing is quite so lonely as a bird without its flock, of course, ” comes unbidden. They’re words he’d shared with another before: yet another mind far from keen, unfortunately, when it comes to grasping the importance of his ideals. He laughs, though there is a fresh bitterness to it. “ I could care less for feeding the demand for brutish entertainment. I do enjoy it, but I had no interest in the Games for violence alone. There is more to life than the carnal desire, you know… the physical body is of little worth when it makes no efforts to push the mind beyond its limits. ”

( For man does not live on bread alone. )

“ Human beings are social creatures. They thrive among friends. Forging bonds is hardly an option, except for those few rarities. Adopting antisocial attitudes is more and more common in this day and age … it’s becoming a trend, and a very unhealthy one, in my medical opinion. Humankind are evolved to seek out comfort in one another, and in the like-minded … and I do admit that I have had a significant lack of like-minded colleagues in my work. I came to the Apex Games seeking peers. Those who wouldn’t mind sharing in my work. Perhaps even those who find themselves willing to collaborate. That, and. Well. I had hoped to meet the man who inspired my joining the Games. ” There’s a pause. “ But unlikely. We are both very, very busy men, of course. Though I have imagined it occasionally. ”

They are imaginings as mercurial as his temper. At times, in these imaginings, he is reluctant and skittish — like a young mare stumbling in the thicket over legs still brittle, but with passion enthused and fresh as Ludwig’s admiration. Just as often, however, these dreams are shrouded in blood, thick and coagulated for all the times Cardiac has dreamt of spilling the blood of the very man who inspired him. There is little more intimate than blood, after all. To kill the chemist by his own hands … he could not think of anything else that would serve as such a testament to his unwavering respect. To have Caustic’s throat held fast beneath fingers stained red; to hold the chemist’s still-pulsing heart, hot and pungent with the stink of fresh blood, in the palm of his hand. Certainly nothing else would be as much an honour for the doctor.

How Ludwig fears that, should they ever meet under different circumstances than those which his mind has drawn in vivid detail, he would confuse their meeting for nothing more than a most unusual dream.

He smiles, though it’s near invisible beneath the mask. Keen viewers will catch the spark of giddy frenzy in his eyes and the clever tilt of brows, however, as he leans forward towards the camera. There is something very nearly conspiratorial in his next words: “ If you are watching — wonderful… ! I’m a fan. Keep up the good work, mein Freund. And perhaps, with luck, we’ll meet one day in the Ring. ”

The chat, in their confusion, take to filling their little box with a constant flow of bird emotes as the stream’s swiftly paused. The broadcasting crew have yet to inform Cardiac that an error has rendered the past four minutes of broadcast into complete static on viewers’ end, and that everything after “glory and money” has been lost to the void of technical issues.

#ask. — ⋮⋮ ❝ do close the door on your way out. ❞#Anonymous #( i've had this in my draft for fucking days. finally. )#( next on 'cardiac wants me to write another 200 paragraph essay on caustic' )#「 alexander nox 」〝GREEN EYES FLECKED WITH YELLOW; YOU COULD DROWN IN THOSE EYES‚ I SAID〟〆〖 corrodent 〗#* apex verse tag

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hanleykayla · 6 years ago

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September 9, 2018

It’s funny. I started this blog off by talking about how this experience was selfless and how I wasn’t going to spend time thinking about me. And, then jokes, post after post, I write about my challenges and hardships, as if they were unexpected; “Ugh, I have to deal with the power being out again.” “This food isn’t satisfying me; All I want is a vegetable.” “How am I going to make this experience count for me? What will I get out of this?”

I have been focusing so much on myself, that my default answer when someone asks me “how it is going” is to automatically share my challenges. I can feel my self-pity and it is almost as if by sharing my hardships and welcoming others to pity me as well, if they do, then my feelings are validated. (If we’re being honest, I think this has been the foundation of my modality for the last couple years. I lived at home and pity the F out of myself. I was still in school when my friends were experiencing their first year of freedom and I couldn’t stop thinking about what I was missing out on. “If only I had more money…,” was way too frequent of a thought. It just goes to show that just because you change your environment, it doesn’t necessarily mean that your problems will go away.)

So, here is my vow to you (and to myself): I will proceed with these posts by focusing on the good. I will share the stories and the scenery of my experience - still through my lens (obviously), but I will not continue to use me as the focal point. Inevitably, I will still share some sort of reflection because I am dramatic AF, but I’ll keep those towards the end and bring others to the front. I had a friend tell me this week, “One day, all of this will be ‘one day.’ Think of what you want this experience to look like when you look back on it as a memory, and just start to make it that. That’s all you have to do.” And, one thing I know for sure is that I would really hate it if I left this journey without sharing any relationships or stories.

So, here we go! A quick summary of a few of the influential people I have met, thus far.

This is Calvin. He is five years old and was one of the students from our Summer School last month. During our time together, Calvin was funny, intelligent, and eager to play soccer at all times. He learned quick and was able to teach other students when they didn’t understand the lesson. Through small comments here and there, my team and I began to piece together Calvin’s story. A couple of weeks prior to showing up to our school, Calvin went to sleep one night with his older sister (by only two years) laying next to him and woke up without her there. When he asked his parents where she went, they either ignored the question or said she went to go be with other family members. Confused as to why she would have to leave in the middle of the night to be with his aunt or uncle, he probed some more and learned that she was sent away to be trafficked with one of the local fisherman. Unfortunately, Calvin mentioned this part of the story without much emotion, as he also shared that this happened the previous year with his eldest brother.

Even though the Summer School ended, I haven’t stopped thinking about Calvin. I think about how his sister is doing, and if she and his brother will ever return home. But, what I think about most is how there is a possibility that his siblings’ situation might becomes Calvin’s reality in a year or so, and how I hopeless I feel about my ability to change that.

On a more positive note, this is Angie and Douglas (and this is a picture of them making kenkey: a dough made out of cassava and corn). Angie is the woman who I have previously mentioned (the wife of one of Cheerful Hearts’ co-founders and the mother to Coo-Qa and NaNa, who also now lives with us!) and she has taken over the responsibility of being my “house mom.” She has no culinary training like Belinda did, but she does genuinely cares about my experience, as she teaches me a new Twi word each morning in exchange for breakfast, and my water pressure, as the first day she moved into the house she called a plumber to get the hose in my bathroom fixed :). Douglas is her brother-in-law and he has been here with me since the first day I arrived. I guess, in addition to Oppong, you could call him my Ghanian Day One. We joke that we are each other’s “short-term best friend and long-term facebook friend” (…as we all have those people that we promise we will “stay in touch with,” but then only end up liking their photos on facebook). While I didn’t think I would have the experience of a host family, these two have welcomed me into their lives so fully that I could not imagine my time here any other way.

I met Gabriel the first week I was in Ghana at the Senya tro-tro station. On our way out of the fishing community, Gabriel asked me if I wanted to buy some ice-cream from him and I declined. Then, he asked me what I was eating while I was shoving some cereal into my face (naturally). I told him what it was and asked him if he would like some. His eyes lit up and he said, “yes please!,” and in seeing that, I gave him the whole bag instead of just the handful I was originally planning to. He could not stop thanking me and I could not stop thinking about how heartbreaking it was that a bag of cereal could bring so much joy to a child. Since then, whenever my team and I are traveling to Senya, I pack an extra bag of cereal to give to Gabriel when we are heading home at the end of the day.

I see these two women on my walk to get an ear of corn each day for lunch. I have no idea what their names are, what they do during the day, or anything else about them, besides the fact that they are always happy. This is how our daily interaction goes:

Them: “Obroni, obroni!” (White person, white person!)

Me: “Hello! Ete sen?” (Hello! How are you?)

Them: “Me ho ye! Ete sen?” (Our bodies are fine! How are you?)

Me: “Me so ey yay!” (I am fine too!)

Them: Ekwan so dwoodwoo!” (Have a safe journey!)

Me: “Medaase!” (Thank you!)

This exact conversation happens on my walk to and from the corn. And even though it is redundant and we don’t know how to say anything else to each other, it is always cheerful and we all leave smiling!

The boy above is one of Cheerful Hearts’ sponsored students. His name is Jacob Kow Okine, he is 18 years old, and about to enter his third year of Jr. High school. Cheerful Hearts originally met Jacob in the fishing village of Nyanayano in 2012 when Jacob was sorting out fish and helping fisherman on the shore. Earning little money or being paid in fish which he would took home to his family, Jacob never attended school while he was working. Jacob joined in on the conversation when he saw the Cheerful Hearts team talking to some of his friends. Jacob expressed his excitement about wanting to attend school, and a week later, Jacob was rescued from the shore and enrolled at Day Star Academy in Senya. Although Cheerful Hearts provided all the materials needed for his education, it took about a year or so for Jacob to adjust to his new way of life away from working. I recently met Jacob this past week and learned that he aspires to be the future President of Ghana. He told me that because of Cheerful Hearts, he was able to learn to read and write, and without this sponsorship, he knows that he would not have the opportunity to achieve his dream.

I’m rooting for Jacob. Selfishly, how cool would it be if I developed a relationship with the future President of Ghana - I mean, c’mon, not a bad person to be friends with. But more importantly, I am rooting for Jacob because I trust him. He doesn’t take anything for granted and he is determined to help other children whom are currently experiencing what he once was.

The kids up the street from my house call me, “killer.” Not in response to any sort of action or comment from me that would lead them to label me this way, but simply because they cannot pronounce my name. When I say, “Kayla,” they hear, “Killa.” This has resulted in them running up towards me every time I pass with their hands shaped as guns and their mouths saying “pew! pew! pew! killer! killer!” I think this is funny and adorable (and oddly heart-warming?), and the whole event gets especially dramatic and entertaining when it happens in the rain.

Which has still been happening! A lot! My laundry and my shoes are not the biggest fans of the rain, but I still am. When I enter a community right after a rainstorm, it’s like the darkness and discomfort did not just occur. Besides the inevitable puddles on the ground, there is no sign that the something that had to put life on pause just happened. Businesses are still running, mothers are still washing clothes, and children are still playing football.

Is that metaphor? I don’t know. Am I going to make it one? Hell f’in yes.

What I am learning about me is that I like to think, to understand, to explain, to make sense of things - and when I can’t do that, when I don’t have the rational or I don’t perceive that I am on a path to getting it, that is when I go crazy. So, it’s not a spiraling or over-abundance of thoughts that is my downfall (cause thats inevitably happening), its the temporary struggle. But, a struggle always ends. Either the struggle means something and the battle towards a solution is worth it, or it’s simply not and eventually the struggle goes away because you see its lack of purpose.

That is what my pursuit of finding tasks to accomplish here is: purposeless. I spent so much time thinking about what I am going to do for the next 15 weeks that I missed out on what I could have been doing that day. New flash Kayla: You’re in Africa. You’re working on a team to combat child labor and trafficking. You’re already here. You’re already doing it. All you have to do is show up daily, offer your perspective and listen to others’, and you’re doing everything you need to.

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topazera · 6 years ago

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“In the 1890s and very early 20th century, women’s cycling became one of the country’s great sporting spectacles, drawing crowds of as many as 10,000 in cities across the country—often more than college football games or even professional baseball at the time. Women raced the ungainly high-wheel penny-farthings throughout the 1880s, but the advent of the safety bicycle, with its equal-sized wheels, chain drive, improved braking, and lower cost, made the sport more accessible. Women took to the road by the thousands, experiencing newfound mobility and freedom, to the extent that women’s rights activists hailed the invention as a great emancipator. “I stand and rejoice every time I see a woman ride by on a wheel…the picture of free, untrammeled womanhood,” Susan B. Anthony said in 1896.

At the time, male cyclists raced in their own harrowing versions of six-day races. Starting on Mondays, they’d race around the clock as spectators filtered in and out, cheering and heckling. They’d stop only to dust themselves off from a bloody pile-up, down drugs (widely accepted, if not encouraged), or nap on the infield. By the time the racers finished, they were a pathetic lot, staggering off their bicycles and devolving into hallucinations.

According to Roger Gilles, author of the forthcoming Women on the Move: The Forgotten Era of Women’s Bicycle Racing, women’s participation in cycling races led to innovations in the sport that made it a lot more fun—and less gruesome—to watch. Because women were thought to be the weaker sex, organizers set them up to race for only two or three hours a day for six days, turning the event into fast-paced, highly entertaining chaos.

The women competed on small, temporary wooden tracks built inside armories and theaters, with banks as steep as 35 degrees. They sped along at 22 or 23 miles per hour and sprinted around 30 mph—faster than many spectators had ever seen a human being move—elbowing each other, zigzagging around, and sometimes winning by only the length of a bike. Brass bands clanged loudly and paced their tempo with the riders’ speed. Race promoters shouted through megaphones, and rowdy crowds tossed their hats and screamed, tearing down pennants and hoisting up bicycles at the end of the race. In comparison to the men’s races, it was quite civilized.

“The men’s races were more working-class, cigar-chomping affairs, whereas women’s races would attract the mayor, society people, women, and families,” Gilles says. (Although there was still plenty of betting.) “I think it helped a lot to develop what arena sports could be in America…These women need a place in history.”

Among the professional women racers of the 1890s, Tillie Anderson was undoubtedly the best. Over the course of her seven-year career, she entered 120 races and won all but 11. Newspapers and promoters played up rivalries between the racers, such as Dottie Farnsworth and Lizzie Glaw, but Anderson’s mix of professionalism and fitness helped her to dominate. Although she was sometimes ridiculed for it, Anderson was among the first to train systematically by taking regular training rides, lifting weights, and watching her diet to maximize performance. She was competitive and stoic, leaping up valiantly after crashes, and sported a Muhammad Ali–like swagger about her strength and abilities—couched, naturally, in prim Victorian parlance. “Three years ago I was very fat in the legs, almost as much so as Miss Peterson, one of my competitors in the St. Louis race, is today,” Anderson told the St. Louis Republic in 1897. “My muscles were not at all developed, though it was but a short time when the fat began to peel off and give way to sinewy strength.”

Anderson also had the advantage of a trainer, fellow bike racer and future husband Phillip Shoburg, who recognized her talent and quit his own career to support hers. Shoburg helped her schedule races, secure lucrative sponsorships, tune her bike, and pace her on training rides. Between her prize money and sponsorships, Anderson was making between $5,000 and $6,000 a year, the equivalent of $140,000 to $160,000 in today’s dollars. But not everyone thought this line of work was becoming of a woman.

“The popular reception was unambiguous—they loved it,” Gilles says. “Thousands and thousands of people went to these races and they had no problems whatsoever. But just like today, the pundits—or the vocal minority—were holding on to these mores and values of a Victorian era and trying to steer people against it.” Some of Anderson’s own friends wouldn’t speak to her after seeing some of the scandalous outfits the women racers wore—long tights, clingy shorts, and curve-skimming sweaters. “Oh, they really thought I was wicked,” she once said. Anderson herself was unselfconscious. She was proud of being a serious athlete and unapologetic about her muscular physique. Anderson even submitted herself to an examination by physicians interested in studying the effects of exercise on a woman’s body. Newspapers across the country published the results and an illustration of her bare chiseled leg. Her mother was horrified.

“Although Miss Anderson’s limbs are not as regular from the artistic viewpoint…her general health is better,” proclaimed one article in the St. Louis Republic in 1897. “From a comparative feebleness she has grown into robust strength. From head to foot she is a mass of muscles.”

Throughout the heyday of women’s six-day racing, the League of American Wheelmen discouraged women from racing and men from supporting them. Some publications in recent years have reported that the league actually banned women from racing in 1902, but there are no records to confirm that. The sport likely declined for a host of reasons. The advent of automobiles and motorcycles ended the great bicycle boom of the 1890s, shuttering bicycle manufacturers and drying up sponsorship dollars. In 1902, two of Anderson’s best competitors died—Lizzie Glaw of typhoid and Dottie Farnsworth of a cycling accident sustained in a circus performance. Societal discomfort with female athleticism may have also played a role. By 1902, there were no longer any women’s races.”

- This Seamstress Conquered Bike Racing in the 1890s by Kate Siber

#women #biking #bike racing #bicycling #cycling #history #my dad linked me to this #and it felt like such a shame that I had no idea this had ever existed!#especially when I do have a bit of a fondness for the 1880s-1890s #I love that the unintentionally made women's racing the much more fun to watch and better organized version of the sport #sexism backfired that time!

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anothersilentmemory · 7 years ago

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JACKSON: OTHER THAN BEING WITTY AND ADORABLE, I HAVE A SERIOUS SIDE TOO [BEIJING NEWS 24TH JULY 2017]

Wang Jia Er

Recently, everyone in Beijing has been meeting Wang Jia Er coincidentally.

The previous night, he appeared at the Lion Band’s concert to show support for Jam Hsiao, who’s on the stage. Other than his schedules, he’s been seen at the supermarket. choosing ingredients on his own to cook. Due to the establishment of his own work studio “Team Wang”, Wang Jia Er who’s always been filial also brought over his parents, who stays at HongKong. His work and family are all moved over to Beijing.

Talking about Wang Jia Er, most people know him through variety shows. His liveliness and honesty have created unexpected cuteness. From the need to prepare a Plan B in case “Wang Jia Er does not cooperate” in the food program he’s hosting, to the preventing this straightforward Aries boy from surprising people with his words, he triggers waves and waves of unexpected laughter.

“This is also the real me” says Wang Jia Er, that his overflowing playful character behind and in front of the screen is not a deliberate result. But recently, also because of this, this boy has started thinking and deliberating. “People once came to me and said ‘come, be funny’, but that’s not an occasion to be funny. I am cheerful but not foolish. So people always think that I am witty and adorable but no one ever mention’s Wang Jia Er’s music.”

“Singer” Wang Jia Er is slowly entering the public’s view now, from his own composed new single <Generation 2>’s official release. He told the Beijing news reporter, “I hope that in the future using other methods, I can let everyone see my serious side.”

Generation 2

FROM GYMNASTICS TO FENCING “I ONCE TOO DREAMT OF BEING AN OLYMPIC CHAMPION”

(We only live once), this is something Wang Jia Er says very often, and it is also a line from his new song <Generation 2>. Other than lyrics, the single’s MV was also completed with his own conception, creativity and planning. The fencing athletes appearing at the beginning of the MV also depicts the career he used to “live once” for, working hard for it.

28th March 1994, Wang Jia Er was born in Hong Kong into a sports family. His father is the former Hong Kong fencing team head coach Wang Ruiji and the mother is former Chinese team gymnastics star Zhou Ping. “Following the parents’ footsteps” seems to be an unwritten custom in the sports circle.

“People in the sports circle seem to all think that, children of outstanding sportsmen should go on the same path as them. So when I was 6, I started to practice gymnastics. When I reached 10, I realised I wasn’t growing much taller so my dad said let’s practice fencing.”

Wang Jia Er who started learning fencing, in one semester there was half the time he was competing overseas. But his studies did not suffer because of that, “although my results weren’t the best, but it was considered good. Sometimes I get an A too.”

His “dream” at that time, was “opening many schools and teaching children how to fence”, was “after I grow up , being able to let my parents lead a good life and stop working hard”, and what all athletes long for — “olympic champion”. “At the start, I only saw fencing as a hobby and interest”, says Wang Jia Er. “But after a certain stage, my goal got bigger and bigger. I didn’t only want to be China’s number 1, I also wanted to be Asia’s number 1, world number 1. So I cultivated my competitive character.”

Besides training and studies, as a half Shanghainese, he would stay in Shanghai for 3-4 months every year. So television shows and animations like <家有儿女><大头儿子小头爸爸> etc that the mainland children are familiar with, was also an important part of the young Wang Jia Er’s life.

Go Fridge.

USING THE ASIA GOLD MEDAL TO EXCHANGE FOR THE PATH AS A SINGER “YOU ONLY CAN LIVE ONCE, SO DO IT WITHOUT REGRET”

Very quickly, Wang Jia Er became the star of the Hong Kong fencing team. Earlier on when he came in contact with fencing, Wang Jia Er already had an interest in music. As he was schooling at an international school, Wang Jia Er who’s naturally cheerful, was active in student groups with various nationalities. Not only did he listen to Eason Chen and Justin Lo, he also came in contact with american rap, french music and Big Bang who just debuted at that time. He also tried composing on his own using the computer and this kind of behaviour made him feel very wonderful.

The first time he had anything to do with the career of a “singer” was in 2008. At that time, an overseas management company found the 14-year-old Wang Jia Er and asked if he was interested in becoming an artist. But when he mustered courage to tell his father about wanting to become a singer, Wang Ruiji just directly replied in four words: “don’t make me laugh”.

“My father just thought that a young child like me doesn’t know anything and a scout finding me to become a star must be a lie. That’s too ridiculous”. His parent’s worry made him reject this invitation. In 2011, the current management company scout once again took a fancy on Wang Jia Er, who was playing basketball at the court after school. Although he was late for half an hour, he still successfully passed the appraisal.

When he told his parents the news about passing the interview, what he received from them was still disapproval. “At that time I was already accepted into a very famous university and they were giving me scholarship. I also had quite a lot of sports brands offering sponsorship and the conditions that I had were all really good. In contrast, overseas management companies signing with trainees have elimination and dismissal mechanisms. The risk was too big.”

From then on, he was hesitating almost every moment. “People can only live once, so why limit yourself? I really want to try new things, live once and not let myself regret it.”

Thus in the same year, under the condition his father set of “if you win the Asia champion, I’ll send you over to become a trainee”, Wang Jia Er attained Asia fencing competition’s gold medal and in exchange, got his parent’s permission.

Beat the champions.

THOUGHT OF KILLING HIMSELF DURING HIS TRAINEE DAYS “THEY COULD ALREADY RUN, BUT I COULDN’T EVEN WALK”

The foreign environment made the 17-year-old boy, who chose another path to start anew, feel unsettled — the third day after he arrived in korea, Wang Jia Er realises that he “can’t do anything”. Not only did he feel inferior, he even wanted to “kill himself”. “The trainees around me had everything, good looks, good figure, they could speak, dance. My language couldn’t make it, abilities couldn’t make it, looks couldn’t make it. Everyone was already running, but I couldn’t even walk.”

Thus everyday like crazy, he learned language, practiced singing, trained his body. If others practiced 10 times he would do 100 times and he would rather just sleep less. He said, he could persevere due to his sportsman spirit. “When you are passionate and have the momentum about something, you won’t feel tired and you also won’t know how much potential you’ve got in you”.

Thinking back on the few years before debut, he confessed that it was hard. Everyday he ate at the same place and even thought that it was good that he could at least eat. “It wasn’t because I had no money, my parents gave me living expenses. But just thinking about the fact that it was my decision to go overseas, I didn’t want to always ask them for money. In fact, the thing I don’t like to do most is to bring burden to my parents.”

Couldn’t find anyone to share his troubles with and feeling helpless inside was probably Wang Jia Er’s biggest enemy while he was overseas. Although he was good friends with trainees of the same period, but everyone was in a highly pressured competitive environment. Many nights he could only sit on his own by the stairs and cried as he gazed at the skies. “Everyone’s worrying about the same thing, what you are suppressing inside cannot be shared. Even more so, it could not be said to my parents so I could only bear it on my own.”

His witty reactions, sincere smile and the individual skill of flipping on the spot from time to time, finally allowed Wang Jia Er to come to the fore. From being a guest on shows to being a permanent MC, from overseas to domestically, he was known by more people. “Other than variety, I want to let more people see a different me”, that is the goal Wang Jia Er set for himself when he returned home. When asked how much of that goal has he accomplished now, he blinked and said “It’s just the beginning and in short I will diligently show everyone a different side of me.”

Fighting men.

MUSIC HE HAS 30 SONGS IN STORAGE NOW

“I will say without hesitation that I am a singer”. When he was asked by the reporter to “rank variety, movie (acting) and music in terms of their importance”, that was what he said. All along, Wang Jia Er has liked hip-hop music very much. But the way in which he treats his own work, is definitely not “laughing and joking”.*

<Generation 2> is his first solo single, he composed and wrote the lyrics on his own and participated in its arrangement and production. As for the source of his creation, he said it has in fact nothing to do with “inspiration”. “it is just very casual, music and a lot of things won’t come just because you want them to. Sometimes when you are sleeping or getting out of bed, showering, drinking water, you would think of it. I won’t stipulate that i have to write songs on this day, sit in front of a table and hold a pencil to tell myself to get started.”

“I’ve always been making music, I have about 30 plus songs. Some songs, hearing it after a long time (after making it) I would think why is it so ridiculous and dispose it away immediately. Usually if I have any new songs, I would send it to the producer, my parents and those professionals or non-professionals. They too, would give me a lot of feedback”. *a word pun was made between hip-hop – xi ha and laughing and joking – xi xi ha ha

Star detective.

FRIENDSHIP I AM “THE FLOWER OF THE WORLD” *

Because of his good socialising skills and relations, people like to call Wang Jia Er the “flower of Cheong Dam Dong”. He confidently laughs and says that it’s not only Cheong Dam Dong, it should be “the flower of the world”. In front of a friend he just met, he also would show his heart without any scruples. “No matter what other people think, I must put forth my real self first.”

So no matter whether he’s in front or behind the scenes, he and Lu Han, Wang Kai, Da Zhang Wei, Jam Hsiao and more, have established a deep friendship. He says that he’s very fortunate that these seniors did not only see him as a working partner. They would never say “thank you” and “goodbye” then disappear after the end of recording for the show or at the end of the schedule.

Lu Han sends him messages from time to time asking him what he’s doing and is there any new song he released that he could listen to; When he misses Da Zhang Wei he would send a message on Wechat saying “Hyung, I miss you”. Because of that, Da Zhang Wei exclaimed that Wang Jia Er is really a special friend because he’s never received such a message before. Wang Jia Er heard it and laughed, “If you miss (someone) you have to express it, if I don’t say it what else could I have said?”

Wang Jia Er says that he interacts frequently with Luhan often during his private time.

[Q&A]

Beijing news: Previously you were on the hot search, because you saw some of your fans holding your “black history” photos at the concert and you even took these on stage. How did you feel then?

Jackson: (covers face) Not some fans, it’s everyone that was supporting me were holding onto this kind of photos. Only my photos are like that out of the whole group, so that’s what I am like in their hearts. Is it because I am too easy-going with them? Actually I like to be like friends with my fans, they can see me as a neighbourhood oppa. But, I just hope that the photos aren’t like that in the future.

Beijing news: In a lot of occasions, you are the youngest one. So when do you feel the manliest and with the most undertaking”

Jackson: When I am doing music, when I am serious or when I am looking at myself in the mirror before the shower.

Beijing news: Now you can speak mandarin, english, korean etc many languages. Do you think that you have have an exceptional gift for languages?

Jackson: I know a lot of languages but I’m not the best in any language. My mandarin is like this, if you let me write a 10k word thesis, I’ll possibly puke. I don’t know if I have a gift for language but I dare to speak (in different languages), even if I make a mistake while doing so so what?

Wang Jia Er starring in the same variety as Da Zhang Wei.

Beijing news: Do you have any plans to release an album? How about concert?

Jackson: For album, the bullets are already prepared. It’s just seeing when the shot should be fired. As for concert, we’ll just see how it goes.

Beijing news: From debut till now, have you met with any setbacks and thought that you wanted to give up?

Jackson: I ever did think about giving up for that 0.000001 seconds. But immediately I pulled myself out from that thinking. Now I also have a group that’s like family to me. If I have troubles I can also tell them. Tell them everyday and annoy them till no end (laughs).

Beijing news: How do you regard the identity of an artist? What do you want to say to yourself after 20 years?

Jackson: Artist to me is a job. I only appear on stage, on television, I’ll film shows and release songs. But I don’t understand why some people always think that stars are different. Because when we exit the stage, we are not any different from normal people. I can say for sure “being popular” is not my goal. I don’t care about those up and downs. I only care about the quality of the works with the Wang Jia Er label and whether I can show it to everyone. As for myself after 20 years, I want to say that you must have responsibility, let your family and team lead a good life and let them enjoy.

translated by ahgawings.com

#Wang Jackson #Wang Jia Er #got7 #got7 jackson #Wow

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liz-goodwin · 8 years ago

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Emboldened by Trump, Republicans aim to halve legal immigration

Sens. Tom Cotton (R-AK) (L) and David Perdue (R-GA) speak to the media during a news conference on Capitol Hill, February 7, 2017 in Washington, DC. Cotton and Perdue unveiled immigration legislation they say is aimed at cutting the number of green cards issued annually by the U.S. in half. (Photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images)

While much of the media has been focused on the administration’s campaign against illegal immigration, a rising star among Senate Republicans, Tom Cotton of Arkansas, has been pursuing a parallel agenda: a bill to cut legal immigration in half, an idea long considered toxic in Washington whose time may be coming around.

Perhaps no one in Washington was happier to hear the news than Roy Beck, a cheerful 68-year-old former reporter who founded the anti-immigration group NumbersUSA, and has been waiting for a moment like this for 20 years. Curtailing legal immigration has long been an untouchable subject in politics—an idea pushed by a handful of groups like Beck’s but largely ignored on the Hill by members of both parties. Now, the environment has drastically changed, with Cotton, who enjoys access to Donald Trump’s White House, championing the cause, and a president who seems open to the idea.

In 1996, Beck was crushed when a Republican-controlled Congress pulled back from a bipartisan plan to enact sweeping restrictions on both legal and illegal immigration. He can still narrate the ins and outs of the Congressional defeat in vivid detail. Beck, who voted for Barack Obama in 2008, and says he came to his position not out of ethnic nativism but out of concern about the environmental and economic impacts of population growth, founded his organization the next year. But he realized it might take another decade for a risk averse Congress to tackle such a hot-button issue again.

“Unfortunately, it wasn’t once a decade, it was once every two decades,” Beck said last week in NumbersUSA’s Arlington office. Beck put his dreams of restricting legal immigration on hold as he instead directed his energies toward stopping Congressional efforts to offer a path to legalization for undocumented immigrants in 2006 and 2007, and again with the “Gang of Eight” talks in 2013. In 2007, Beck marshaled his grassroots supporters to flood senators’ offices with more than a million faxes, helping to kill the immigration bill.

Then, suddenly, the winds of the immigration debate shifted. Republican candidates for the presidency from Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker to former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush began to talk about the need to limit legal immigration. And Trump’s candidacy, which often focused on the supposed dangers of immigrants from Mexico and Muslim-majority countries, began to take off. In a policy paper, Trump called for a total “pause” on employment-based visas—something virtually no member of Congress would have advocated for before.

“It was very heartening all of the last two years…as one candidate after another begin to talk about how there needs to be some trimming [of legal immigration],” Beck said.

Beck saw his organization’s Facebook membership grow from under 1.5 million at the end of 2015 to 6 million this year. When he first started NumbersUSA, Beck worked for nativist John Tanton, who warned of a “Latin onslaught” in immigration and compared immigrants to bacteria, the Southern Poverty Law Center reported. But Beck has disavowed Tanton’s views and says the country should not discriminate against immigrants based on their race or nationality. He proudly pointed at the 6 million number, printed out and pasted to the glass wall of his office’s glass conference room, last week.

“I guess immigration was in the news,” he joked.

Cotton’s bill delivers on several of Beck’s long-time key policy wishes like eliminating the visa diversity lottery, which gives 50,000 green cards to people in nations without significant immigration levels to the United States, and capping refugee levels at 50,000 per year. But the majority of the bill’s legal immigration reduction comes from revoking U.S. citizens’ right to sponsor their siblings, parents and adult children for a green card. (Some elderly parents will still be allowed in on temporary renewable visas if citizens need to care for them.)

The bill will cut legal immigration by more than 400,000 people in its first year, and by more than 500,000 people each year ten years from now. It works so fast because the millions of family members who are currently waiting in line for a green card—some for more than 10 years—will see their petitions disappear immediately. The plurality of those on the wait list are from Mexico, according to a State Department analysis.

Candidates for US citizenship take the oath of allegiance during a Naturalization Ceremony for new US citizens at the City Hall of Jersey City in New Jersey on February 22, 2017. (Photo: Kena Betancur/AFP/Getty Images)

Cotton believes the bill will return legal immigration to “historical” levels—when immigrants made up a smaller share of the U.S. population than they do now. Net immigration right now is about .3 percent of the U.S. population a year—lower than the .4 percent yearly average since 1790. But the foreign-born population overall is currently at 13 percent—higher than it’s been in recent decades and approaching America’s all-time high of 14.8 percent in 1890, according to the Pew Research Center.

Cotton—and Beck—believe reducing legal immigration will raise wages for less educated people already in the country, and that the American economy would be better off if immigrants with certain skills came in rather than those who are just related to citizens. One potential economic problem with decreasing legal immigration, however, is that the falling U.S. birthrate means half a million fewer immigrants per year would result in near zero population and workforce growth, and put the cost burden of the nation’s retirees on a smaller base of younger workers.

It remains to be seen whether Cotton’s bill, called the RAISE Act, an acronym for “Reforming American Immigration for Strong Employment Act,” will become the vehicle for Beck and his ideological compatriots’ first major victory in Congress. So far, it only has one cosponsor, Sen. David Perdue of Georgia. Several leading Republican senators, including Lindsay Graham of South Carolina and John McCain and Jeff Flake of Arizona, have spoken out against it.

But Cotton likely can count on the president’s support when the time comes. “I won’t go as far as to say the White House has endorsed the bill or adopted the bill as their own, but President Trump expressed very strongly to Sen. Cotton that he supports the principle of making our immigration system more of a merit based system and less of one which relies on family sponsorship,” Caroline Rabbit, Cotton’s communication director, told Yahoo News.

The bill contains no hint of compromise for the other side at all—neither a modest increase in employment-based visas nor a small-scale legalization that could address Trump’s dilemma about what to do with the hundreds of thousands of young undocumented immigrants protected by his predecessor. Trump told ABC News last month that these young people shouldn’t be worried they will be deported because he has a “big heart”—but it’s unclear if he plans to ask Congress to legalize the group. At least one deferred action recipient was rounded up in the recent raids targeting undocumented immigrants.

“I don’t know how you’d get support just to do one side of it in the Senate,” Flake told Politico. “I just don’t.”

Cotton and his office are only just now beginning to reach out to senators to court their support, and it’s always possible the senator will throw in a sweetener in exchange for support from senators wary of signing onto a bill that solely reduces legal immigration. The landscape could also change dramatically by the time the bill is seriously considered, after the GOP deals with its main legislative priorities, Obamacare repeal and tax reform.

Asked if they would accept a compromise, such as a small-scale legalization of the young people protected by President Obama’s deferred action executive order or an increase in employment based visas, Beck said, “We’re certainly not an all-or-nothing kind of organization.”

But Frank Sharry, the executive director of the pro-immigration advocacy organization America’s Voice, said the bill has a “snowball’s chance in hell,” even if it included legalization for deferred action youth. He said he believes the bill is simply Cotton’s way of positioning himself for a future presidential run.

“I know they’re feeling good these days, but they’re really smoking something if they think this has legs,” Sharry said of anti-immigration groups excited about the bill.

Sharry said those who oppose the bill will make the “powerful” case that it’s hurting U.S. citizens who want to bring in their families. But, said Beck, “It’s not a humanitarian thing. I chose to move away from my family in the Ozarks and I see them once a year. The thing is in today’s world I’m connected with them practically every day. You can be connected with anyone in the world now.”

Either way, the effort is sure to continue to raise Cotton’s profile. The combat veteran and Harvard graduate reportedly suggested Lt. Gen. H.R. McMaster for the national security adviser job to the White House. And advocates on both the left and the right of the immigration issue are calling Cotton the “next Jeff Sessions,” the former senator from Alabama who was a lonely voice calling for lowering legal immigration and is now Attorney General. Sessions’ former top aide, Stephen Miller, is a key White House adviser who’s also called for reducing the share of the foreign-born population of the country.

In a rowdy town hall Wednesday night in Arkansas, Cotton fielded several questions about his support for immigration restrictions, including from a seven-year-old boy named Toby who said he and his grandma liked Mexicans and didn’t want to pay for a wall. Cotton replied to the child that the United States is a “melting pot” and “we are all one people,” but that Mexico had to deal with its own problems.

Beck, meanwhile, is all anticipation. “I’d like to see it brought by the fall,” he said of the bill. “It’s a good year.”

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