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romanssippycup · 7 years ago

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Let me tell you a story...

Six months ago...I was at my breaking point. Six months ago I was tired of losing friends. By suicide. By fights. By miscommunication. By abondonment.

Back in febuary, before all I spoke of above happened though I had a rollplay group in the Undertale amino and on tumblr. We were all great friends and they were so hilarious, but things turned sour really quick when the first person commited suicide. I didn’t know there even was a suicide pact between this person and the core founder of our group, then she tried to commit suicide too.

I don’t wanna give the details, but I had lost about three friends. And then I lost everyone else. A big fight broke out in our group of 50. I remember people leaving, heartbroken, devastated, friendships shattering. It wasn’t good for anyone.

I remember sitting on the floor of my room June 10th just sobbing, because everything I had come to love and cherish in that fandom vanished in a few short weeks. My friends. My crushes. Everything.

I remember sitting at my computer scrolling through tumblr and slamming my laptop down angrily. Then opening it back up, thinking of going to youtube and watching a few light-hearted videos. With tears in my eyes, I saw Thomas Sander’s vines pop up. I remember he had always made me smile in the past. I click on his channel, and the first video I see is the “Becoming a Cartoon” video. Let me tell you I had never been so confused before in all my life.

Why was the dad character in a long video? He had a name? What is this egotistical, sassy prince doing outside of a vine? The teacher dude was always kinda hot though. But whose this new emo kid? I was intrigued, so I went through and watched all the Sander’s sides, out of order mind you though. So all the name reveals were spoiled for me. (Accept for Virgil’s, being a part of the fandom then was a real treat.)

But even so, I remember watching “My Negative Thinking” for the first time, and I broke down in tears. This time happy tears. This new series, had made me laugh and cry, and it was something that I could poor my heart into. I rewatched these videos for five long hours, before diving into the fandom.

I started on Wattpad in the end of June before AA parts 1 and 2 with Undeniably Important. The fandom was in a state of turmoil then, because we all knew Anxiety’s redemption arc was coming. I didn’t fully understand the dynamic of the fandom, but I started writing fanfiction anyways. This news series had given me something I had been without for a long time: hope. And gosh darn it I was gonna contribute.

It didn’t exactly matter to me that I had never written fanfiction for another fandom before this. Before Inknew it I had written 10 chapters of my idea! I loved the characters. I had loved Thomas Sanders from the very beginning in 2013 and still love him to this day. I began loving Joan and Talyn. Then I began loving the Fanders! Everyone in this community is so freaking nice and cool! Just! HOW DO PEOPLE LIKE YOU GUYS EXIST?! JUST HOW?!

Coming from the Undertale Fandom you guys are just like heaven!! You all welcomed me on Tumblr. And I am forever greatful for that! We are all so lucky to live in a fandom where there are hardly any shipping wars, hardly any drama, we all lift each other up. We are LGBTQIA+ friendly. Actually we are everyone friendly. It warms my heart to see this type of community, and its such an honor to be part of it.

I wanted to give so much back to this fandom, that I started an appreciation month for it. It was supposed to be a silly thing, I honestly didn’t think any one would enjoy it. But so many people participated! (I do plan on bringing that back this August) I just feel so unworthy at times to call myself a Fander. Like you guys are just so amazing!!!

Being a Fander for this long, I just feel like I need to give credit, where credit is due.

@what-even-is-thiss I look up to you, like you’re the big brother I’ve never had. I know we hardly speak, but you were my leader by example when I was ace, and even still now. Thank you for being yourself and inspiring me, to be myself.

@thagrinbery My debate buddy! I love you more than words can say. You were one of my first ever friends in this fandom and I always had a lot of fun arguing about...nipples...with you XD. We are going to keep fighting together for the better, Bery. Please continue to be yourself, and don’t change for anyone. Because you are you, and I love you just the way you are.

@cup-of-blue Thank you for being one of my first friends in this fandom! You are an amazing drawer and your sense of humor is hilarious! We don’t talk as much as we used to, but I’d like to change that. Thank you for being awesome! Ilysm friendo!

@prplzorua You were the first fander that I ever admired, even before I was ever in the fandom on tumblr. For your amazing writing skills, and your ability to brush harsh comments off like they were nothing. You were always so strong and confident in who you were. I am honored to know you more personally now as a friend. I love you very much, and keeping beeing yourself. I know we still need to do a collab, and I’m open for it. I’ll message later today friendo.

@anonymous-snake Where are you? I miss you. We used to be such good friends. I know you said you were going to take a break from tumblr...but isn’t three months a bit much? It’s probably just me worrying about you. I hope you are ok and doing well wherever you are. Ilysm and know that people still love you here in the fander realm. Take care friend. We miss you.

@here-to-vent Eyyy Washington State bud! I think about you a lot, even though I know we don’t talk much. I still follow you and stalk you...the good kind of stalk XDEvery once and while just checking to see how you are doing. I wish for nothing but good fortune your way friendo! <3

@toxicsanders/ I know we hardly talk, but your resilience through the hard things that has happened to you through these past couple months has really spoken to me. You always find a way to push through your obstacles, even when life get’s rough. Keep moving forward friendo. You can do it. I believe in you.

@softlogic I know you aren’t in the fandom anymore, but I’ll never forget you and your kindness to me when I was just starting out on tumblr. Although you’re gone, I’ll always remember your words to me.

@justanotherpurplebutterfly You. You inspire me so much. You are just amazing in every way, shape, and form. Your writing skills are phenominal and you are such a sweet and caring person! You gave me hope at the beginning of september when I had none, when I almost left this fandom for good. I just can’t thank you enough for being my Fander friend. I love you very much friendo, And thank you!

@tinysidestrashcaptain How does one explain such an amazing person in words?! Just...how!? She is way too awesome for her own good, and one of the very few reasons why I’m still in the fandom today! We’ve gone through thick and thin together in these past five months! And it still baffles me that this amazing woman wants to be my friend! You are just so hecking awesome! Your writing, your personality, your sense of humor. You just contribute so much to this fandom and we can’t thank you enough for it! I am honored and proud to call you my friend! I love you more than life friendo!

There are tons of people I can mention who have touched my life over these six months, and I know I can’t name all of them! @leesacrakon @evilmuffin @leesacrakon @ts-sideblog @logan-logic @randomslasher @prinxietys @princey-must-slay @pirate-patton @infinitesimally-patton @organizeddiscord @jiyudreamer @availe @fandomsandanythingelse @romananalogicality @remmythepegasis @pantton-sandacers @pattykrabbies Are all just a few that have helped me through my struggles whether they knew it or not!

And I’m sorry that I can’t mention all of you, but if you are reading this right now, then this also applies to you! Thank you for makingthe Fander’s fandertastic! I am human and I can’t get everyone, but just know how special you are. I love you all very much and thank you for saving me and accepting me into this web-connected, amazing, big happy family. <3

Thank you so much. @thatsthat24, @thejoanglebook, @tallykat3

#thomassanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanderssides

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emmaekay · 7 years ago

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Kotonari - a sequel to Keiyaku

AN: Hello! I’ve been wrestling with this first chapter for probably a week. If you haven’t read Keiyaku – stop. The entire plot of Keiyaku will be spoiled within this first chapter and that will make you sad. Just surf the #vegebul au tag on my blog to find the Keiyaku master post and happy reading. If you enjoyed Keiyaku, hooray! Since I’m not writing this for a smutfest, not every chapter will contain sex scenes this time – womp womp – but this story will be explicit.

This is chapter one, part one. Chapter one, part two coming soon!

Chapter One – Birth

Part One:

“There’s one thing,” Vegeta began, addressing his father over the shogi board, “that I never understood.”

The king snorted. “Just one? I could list the things you don’t understand, given time and the appropriate length of writing paper.”

Tiles snapped against the board and Vegeta clicked his teeth, his trademark response when no biting remark came to mind. “Tch. About the fasting, I mean.”

“Well, my son, when a male and a female feel a deep bond –“

“Were you always this sarcastic?”

The king laughed. “What is this ‘one thing?”

“Before Bulma arrived, you were so insistant that I find a woman to fast. Insistent to the point of threatening me, to the point of desperation. That day,” Vegeta recalled, snapping another tile down, “you seemed almost afraid of some… consequence if I did not choose a partner immediately.”

“Mm. I was not afraid.”

“Your eyes were afraid.”

“Vegeta, I was not afraid. But. If I were afraid, what do you suspect the cause of that fear to have been? Have you ever known your King, your father, to fear anything?”

Vegeta played a tile more, and his father took his turn languidly. Had he ever known his father to show fear? What did a King with a Kingdom undisputed ever fear? Vegeta turned the thought over and over in his mind.

A tile snapped against the board.

“I will tell you, I fear one thing, son.”

Vegeta’s hand dropped.

“There is yet one foe in this world I fear. It is not disease or death, or any such abstract concept. I will embrace my death when it comes and I will fight any disease like I would any man – ruthlessly. It is a person. Can you fathom who it might be?”

Vegeta played his tile as his mother swept into the room. She was speaking to several attendants about her plans for the day and important meetings she must take, about Bulma’s doctor arriving soon and reminding her ladies-in-waiting that she must be informed the very second that doctor arrived. She broke off her stream of directions and demands to cross over to her husband and son.

She draped herself over the King’s broad left shoulder, lazily surveying the board. “You’re losing, my King.”

“I am aware, Pea,” he said mirthlessly, but kissing her hand before giving it a squeeze and letting it drop again.

Queen Pea reached over her husband and snapped a tile over her son’s king piece. “Match.”

Both the King and the Prince dropped their jaws – neither had seen the winning move staring them in the face. Prince Vegeta had thought he was toying with his father – victory assured – but had stepped into a trap the King hadn’t even intended to set.

The queen sashayed away, back to her attendants to continue an endless stream of duties, as the men continued to puzzle.

“And now you know,” the King began, “the identity of the one and only person in this universe who I fear.”

“Mother?”

“The queen had not been pleased with your long absence, nor with the death of your brother, for at least a full sun cycle before you came home. She was ready to go out into the stars to find and actually fight you – actually fight you, Vegeta – to force you to return. The fact is, she was insistent that you come home and fast to someone because she was lonely for her children.”

“I see.”

“And when she is insistent, it is of me. Constantly. Daily. Hourly. Minutely. There are a limited number of times I can stand to be berated by that woman, and I had reached my limit the day your boots hit Vegetasei.”

Vegeta laughed, a chuckle at first that built to a full laugh, head thrown back. What death? What frailty? What abdication? His father was tired of his mother’s endless bitching, and took it out on him.

The King joined his son’s laughter until both men were redoubled in belly shaking hilarity.

---

“Ohh, babies, come ouuuut,” Bulma moaned painfully, rubbing her swollen belly. “You have to be big enough now, don’t you? I’ll send your father in there!”

“Will you now?” Vegeta stood in the doorway of their study, Bulma sprawled out before him on the fourth couch they’d had this week. The first – too soft, the second – too firm, the third – no reason, it just made Bulma cry to look at it.

“Ve-ge-taaaaaaa, why won’t the babies come? It’s been one thousand years.”

“It has been 38-41 weeks, depending on when you became pregnant.”

“IT’S BEEN LONGER THAN THAT.”

Vegeta smirked and crossed the room to his beloved one – his beloved ones. He knelt down at the couch and put his head on Bulma’s thigh, mouth facing the dome of her womb and pressed a soft kiss to her flesh. “Little Saiyans, your mother wishes to meet you. Your grandmother wishes to meet you.”

Bulma laid her head back on a pillow and felt herself beginning to cry – again – for no reason other than the gentle timbre of her lover’s voice.

“Little warriors, come out and see your people.

Little royals, come out and see the land.

Little prince and little princess

Your Kingdom is at hand.”

The words were an old royal Saiyan nursery rhyme, and technically, it should have been “little prince OR little princess” but Vegeta had decided long ago that there was one of each in there. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Bulma hadn’t disputed it – in fact, she agreed with him. There were no ultrasounds, nothing like the prenatal care on Earth, but there were doctors and doulas who could read the ki signatures of the babies. Queen Pea sent for a specialist with knowledge of the Saiyan Gemini, but he was across the planet and refused to travel by pod. He should be in Asket soon, but until he arrived, Bulma was uncomfortable and weepy and from somewhere down in the pit of her stomach, she was worried about the babies, but didn’t know why.

Vegeta continued humming wordlessly, soothing the babies until their ki mellowed. As it did, some of the pain went out of Bulma’s face and she felt herself relax.

“They like you better than me already,” she pouted.

“Nonsense. Saiyans just don’t like being cooped up together for extended periods of time. They were probably fighting.”

“Vegeta, babies don’t fight.”

“Saiyan babies do.” He joked, tickling her thighs with ungloved fingers, raising gooseflesh all over her legs and arms.

“Of course they don’t!” she giggled.

“Of course they do. Saiyans are warlike beasts and you’ll be all alone amongst three of them. We’ll outnumber you.”

“Oh, but I’m sure,” she purred as he began kissing her belly, parting her legs and sweeping his hands over and over the inside of her thighs, “that my prince will defend me from such beasties.”

Vegeta chuckled, his chest rumbling as he hiked her dress a little further up her hips to expose her pert behind and tuft of unruly blue hair. Panties had gone by the wayside about 8 months into her pregnancy, and dresses were about the only thing she could wear. Her normally delicately manicured hair had grown wild, and natural, and for some reason, Vegeta preferred her that way. She was raw, and real, and she was all his.

He kissed lower on her bump, lower down to that tuft of blue, lower down still to kiss her lips and watch her squirm. “Ahn, Vegeta.” She cooed, already melting at his touch.

“Yes, Princess Bulma?”

“I love you.”

He dove into her then, parting her and lapping up her juicy sweetness as it flowed out around his gentle, skillful fingers as they curled into her and rubbed that spot she loved. With his free hand, he massaged and soothed her ever-aching back and she moaned in two kinds of pleasure underneath him. When she grasped his hair with her fingers and cried out, he increased the intensity and sent her toppling over the edge of her delight.

He looked up at her, wiping his mouth. “Come on. I ran you a bath.”

He picked her up with ease, like picking up an overstuffed pillow, and carried her to the bathing chamber. Beri had actually run the bath, sprinkling in oils and herbs to soothe Bulma’s discomfort and stress. The chamber smelled like roses and the steam was warm around her naked body. He knelt down on one knee, lowering her gently into the water. Her head lolled back and she breathed a sigh.

“Tell Beri I said thank you.”

“Tch.” So much for taking credit. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Call me when you’re ready to get out.”

“Mmhm.” “Bulma.”

“Hmm?” she mumbled, eyes closed.

“Call me when you’re ready to get out. Do not attempt to get out on your own – again.”

“I won’t.”

“Bulma…” he growled a warning.

“Really! Falling once was enough.”

Satisfied, or as satisfied as he was going to be, he shut the door behind him.

---

“VEGETA!” Bulma screamed. Something was wrong, something was wrong with the babies. The water around her was red, billowing out from a deep crimson into a pink blush at the edges of the tub. “VEGETA!” Bulma was bawling, crying, screaming as Vegeta burst through the bathing chamber door.

“Woma –“ he cut himself off as he was stunned into silence. Blood in the water, terror on her tear streaked face. In half a second, he was at the tub. “I’ll go get Beri or one of the doulas from the castle or – “ He began to pull away from her.

“Vegeta don’t leave me! What’s happening, what’s happening, what’s wrong with my babies?”

He didn’t know. He couldn’t answer her. He needed to go find someone who could help, but she was digging her desperate fingers into his arm and weeping, weeping in abject and perfect terror. Blood welled up from the pricks in his arm, and welled out of her into the water.

“Little warriors, come out and see your people,” he began to sing, in his low, gravelly baritone – an accidental vibrato now, as fear stole in to his voice and it shook and broke. He could feel himself about to cry… something he had not done since he was a baby himself.

“V-vegeta,” Bulma sobbed, “that’s not going to work this time.”

He swallowed. Was he about to meet his children, or watch his wife die? “Little royals, come out and see the land.” He choked, plunging one arm into the water between her legs, as the air around them took on the softest lilac glow.

Bulma was straining against him, against the tub, pushing because instinct told her to. He could feel a little head in his hand, and he jumped into the tub fully clothed, never letting his hand stray from that soft, wet mop of hair.

“Little prince and little princess,” he sang, because he could not scream in his terror, covered now in the bloody water with his wife astride him as he faced her, hands ready to catch their little child. Their little living child, he willed, he insisted.

One last mighty push, and the babe was free in his hands and coming up through the water and breaching the water now, and squalling and crying now – alive, alive, alive his heart sang.

“Your Kingdom is at hand.”

Bulma’s head fell back, cracking against the edge of the tub. “Bulma. Bulma!” He shook her thigh, but she didn’t respond. Tucking the babe - prince or princess unknown, but live and crying with a fury – into the skin tight chest of the suit he still wore, he leaned forward and with measured strength, slapped her face. “BULMA!”

She came to, blinking, bewildered, dazed. “Is he?” and the baby answered her question with renewed volume. “Alive. Stay awake Bulma, stay awake now.” She groaned and tensed every muscle, crying again.

“Vegeta, it hurts!”

“I know, I know, I’m here.”

“The other baby’s coming,” she gritted through bared teeth. The lavender glow of the room deepened to a deep, plummy aubergine light and Bulma pushed again with all her strength. One baby still tucked up into his chest and held in place with his left arm, he had only one hand to catch the baby coming now. Bulma screamed and wept, wept and screamed.

Blood billowed out into the water, and Vegeta felt the baby’s head. “She’s here, she’s here. One more, Bulma, just one more.”

A final, almighty and exhausting effort – Bulma pulled herself up, hands digging into the backs of her knees and feet braced against the solidity of Vegeta’s abdominal muscles – a final push and the baby was born.

Bulma watched through a dreamlike haze as Vegeta’s hand pulled the baby up through the water, up through the air, in silence. She didn’t cry. Was she alive? Was she alive? “Vegeta – is she?” Bulma choked on the question, on her tears.

With a careful hand, Vegeta turned the baby to face her mother – her bright black eyes open, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in rapid but steady breaths. He placed the little princess on Bulma’s bare chest. Alive.

Beri burst through the door then, at last, “Prince Vegeta, the estate is glowing purple!” Her eyes widened in horror and fear as she saw the babies, saw the blood, saw the fully clothed prince awash in the tub and an exhausted Bulma weeping in pain and in joy. “I’ll get the doctors! I’ll get your mother!” She flew from the room as fast as she could.

Bulma was still bleeding into the water, and Vegeta could feel her ki fading. “Bulma.”

“Vegeta, look.” She whispered to him, “She’s perfect. She’s perfect. You were right, one girl. Is the other a boy?”

“Yes.” His voice was the raspiest husk as he reached forward to take the little princess from his wife as her hands slipped down into the water. “Yes. He’s strong.”

“He’s not crying anymore.” Her voice was fading, the thinnest rumor of a whisper now.

Vegeta tucked the little princess into his shirt, next to her brother. “Bulma, you need to stay awake. Bulma!”

“Little warriors, come out and see your people,” she whispered, arms dangling limply in the water, eyes fluttering closed. “Little royals, come out and see the land.”

Vegeta lay there in her blood, trapped by his fear and uncertainty, his children pressed against his heart. He finished the rhyme, tears running down his face. “Little prince and little princess, your Kingdom is at hand.”

#Kotonari #vegebul au #vegebul #vegeta #bulma

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kerahlekung · 5 years ago

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Konspirasi politik sebelum PRU15...

Konspirasi politik sebelum PRU15....

Sdr.Iswardy Morni,political analyst from Sarawak...

dengaq coretannya dan hangpa buatlah tafsiran sendiri...

Dekat 2 tahun kerajaan PH melalui Lim Guan Eng dan Tommy Thomas berhempas pulas dapatkan balik duit 1MDB, akhirnya PM pintu belakang ni puji Menteri Kewangan dan AG sekarang? Ke sana ke sini claim hasil orang lain. Tak tau malukah...

Terima duit tapi dapat bala...

1. Pemulangan AS$300 juta (kira-kira RM1.3 bilion pada kadar tukaran semasa) kepada Malaysia adalah prerogatif kerajaan Amerika Syarikat. 2. Ini adalah duit 1Malaysia Development Berhad (1MDB) yang dicuri oleh pelbagai orang, termasuk Jho Low dan Riza Shahriz Abdul Aziz (anak tiri Mohd Najib Abdul Razak/anak Rosmah Mansor dengan suami pertamanya). 3. Wang ini dirampas oleh Jabatan Kehakiman Amerika (DoJ) di bawah inisiatif KARI (Kleptocracy Asset Recovery Initiative). Dalam bahasa yang mudah ia adalah daya usaha dapatkan balik duit negara yang dicuri oleh pemerintahnya sendiri. 4. Siapakdan pemerintah kleptokrasi yang curi duit negara itu? DoJ melabelkannya Malaysian Official 1 (Pegawai Malaysia 1). Bekas menteri Kabinet Najib, Abdul Rahman Dahlan, mengesahkan bahawa MO1 ada Najib sendiri. 5. Oleh sebab duit curi 1MDB itu telah dipulangkan dan Muhyiddin Mohd Yassin dengan rasmi menerimanya, maka rasmi jugalah hakikat bahawa kerajaan mengakui duit itu duit curi. 6. Apabila ada duit yang dicuri tentulah ada yang mencurinya. 7. Maka dengan menerima balik duit curi yang dipulangkan oleh Amerika itu, bertambah kukuhlah kes terhadap semua orang yang terlibat mencuri dan menerima duit itu. 8. Walaupun kerajaan Perikatan Nasional yang Muhyiddin kepalai adalah kerajaan tanpa mandat - kerajaan tebuk atap kata Abdul Hadi Awang - namun ia wajib menghormati kebebasan Kehakiman. 9. Dalam Kehakiman pula dikatakan keadilan yang lambat dilaksanakan adalah keadilan yang dinafikan (justice delayed justice denied). 10. Perbicaraan Najib sudah berlangsung tujuh bulan. Kalau tanam padi sudah lama dituai. Bukan Najib saja berhak kepada keadilan. Rakyat jelata pun berhak juga. 11. Dalam kita bergembira dapat balik duit RM1.3 bilion dari Amerika itu, kita jangan pula lupa yang kita sudah kena tipu. 12. Kalau kita lupa dan alpa kita mungkin akan kena tipu sekali lagi. Sebab itu kita kecewa dan bimbang apabila sidang Dewan Rakyat ditangguhkan. Macam ada benda yang hendak disembunyikan atau dinafikan daripada kita. - a.kadir jasin

DOJ pulangkan duit rakyat

Malaysia, sebab apa...

Apabila DOJ Amerika Sykt memulangkan semula duit rakyat Msia sejumlah AS$ 300 juta, berkokoklah macai dan walaun menyatakan itu bukti Najib tidak bersalah dan tidak terlibat dengan skandal 1MDB. Mereka tidak baca habis apa yang yg sebut oleh Jab Kehakiman Amerika Sykt. Kalau itu bukan duit rakyat Msia yang dirompak dan diselewengkan, mengapa begitu bodoh sekali DOJ mahu beri kepada Msia? Kita berterima kasih kepada kerajaan PH kerana bertungkus lumus untuk mendapatkan semula hak rakyat Msia yg dirompak itu dan sebahagiannya telah kita perolehi sebelum ini, manakala kerajaan pintu belakang sekarang ini hanya meneruskan usaha kita sebelum ini. Bayangkan kalau kerajaan kleptokrasi dulu masih memerintah selepas PRU14, rasa2nya dapat atau tidak duit itu kembali atau lagi bertambah duit itu hilang? Najib tiada kaitan dengan 1MDB? Jangan tolol sangat. Anda tahukah siapa penasihat dan orang paling berkuasa di dalam 1MDB? Kalau tidak tahu, cuba tanya PM pintu belakang sekarang, siapa perompak sebenar dalam skandal 1MDB ini. Cari kat Youtube, taip saja "muhyidin 1 MDB." Dengar apa kata Muhyidin tentang 1MDB. Dia dipecat dari TPM dulu pun kerana isu inilah. Jangan lupa, kerajaan pintu belakang sekarang ini turut berada di dalamnya "hero-hero" yang ada kaitan dengan skandal terbesar ini. Inilah kerajaan pintu belakang yang memerintah sekarang yang disokong pula oleh lebai dan seorang dua ugamawan dedak. - Wfauzdin Ns

DOJ pulangkan RM1.3 bilion aset 1MDB. Maknanya kisah kleptokrasi dan skandal 1MDB bukanlah rekaan. Pengiktirafan usaha LGE dan AG sblm ni. Tu pun walaun2 dan macai2 UMNO/PAS tak percaya yang Najib balun duit dan adalah Penyamun Kleptokrat No.1,dok juai aset2 negara dengan cara menipu,dapat duit pi enjoy sakan lepas tu bila hutan sangkut,gagau duit LTAT,KWAP etc dan juai lagi aset gomen kpd China Komunis untuk cover balik bayaran hutang2 bonds tu hinggakan sampai sekarang Malaysia akan terus kena bayaq hutang tersebut dlam berbilion2 RM setiap tahun sehingga 2036. Lepas tu dok kalut tudoh PH dan Guan Eng jual aset gomen dan TH,padahal itu transaction jual beli yang dibuat oleh professionals dalam Khazanah dan TH bagi cairkan aset yang dibeli dulu semasa Bossku beli yang tak menguntungkan langsung kepada gomen dan jika depa juai pun bukan masuk akaun peribadi Guan Eng atau Dr.Mujahid pun.Semua hasil jualan tu masuk balik ke akaun Khazanah dan TH semula.Itu pun tak tak boleh beza dan tak erti bahasa. - f/bk

Din jumpa Anwar atau Anwar jumpa Din...

Lawaknya tajuk Harakah.. Perjumpaan Ds Anwar dengan Muhyidin tanda ds Anwar ,PH iktiraf Muhyidin..kononnya kita iktiraf kerajaan tebuk atap.. Kenapa tak kata dulu, Bila Ds Anwar ,PH minta bertemu Najib ketika dia jadi PM, sebagai pengiktirafan Kerja menyamun 1MDB ? Tak suka macam mana pun kita dengan Najib dulu..kita hormati kedudukan dia sebagai PM ,sebab dia dipilih oleh rakyat.. kalau kita bantah sekadar ruang yg dibenarkan Undang2 dan Perlembagaan.. Itu menandakan politik matang Ds Anwar.. Ada keutamaan yg lebih besar dari Politik kepartian..Iaitu kepentingan rakyat.. kami menghormati Undang2 dan hak dalam perlembagaan..menghormati Federalisma.. kami bukan seperti kelompok Khawarij.. yang sentiasa berpolitik sehingga sanggup melanggar prinsip jatuhkan Kerajaan yang sah dipilih rakyat.. Kami hari ni pun duduk dirumah.. minta diberikan bantuan ekpada Rakyat.. bukan sebab kami patuh dan iktiraf Muhyidin walaupun dia dok berucap Stay At Home.. kena faham molek beza Kerajaan dan Parti.. tu sebab hari ini depa faraid GLC kerajaan, sebab tak dapat beza Kerajaan ngan parti..- Ahmad Muslim Badawi

Surely Din understands corruption?....

Surely TSMY aka Din understands corruption? Surely Din knows what “jobs for the boys” mean? Surely Din, of all person, has seen the rot and abuse of political power under Umno? And yet he persists with these nefarious acts that tell us that he himself is corrupt. That he himself is powerless against the greed and avarice of MP’s who will trade their loyalty for cash…insane amount of cash! We are now warned. Din wants to hold on to the government at any cost. He will pay any price, do any evil deed, use every political means at his disposal to advance his own political agenda. Din looks at all that he is now doing as being the elixir to his political survival. I say no Tan Sri…all this that you do will not save you politically. What you are now doing will damm you into a political pariah if that “back door” silap mata that you pulled recently have not already done so. You are now the Deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car approaching at the speed of light. You are now the train speeding relentlessly towards a solid wall without any hope of stopping the train in time to save, not only youself, but also the others who have been your conspirators to that “back door” silap mata thing that you pulled recently. Nothing will save you Din. To your left you have Umno. To your right PAS. Facing you squarely and itching for a fight is Tun Mahathir and Anwar…and most worrying of all…behind you is Azmin and Zuraida. Tell em Din, what are your options? NONE. Political death awaits you. Pak Lah and Kepit Man knew that from the day they took office. Anwar knew that he would never be PM even as he dared hope that he will be. And now Din…work out your options and your chances of survival given that all around you are not friends….but E N E M I E S. Din I am a friend…or at least I use to be a friend who admired your “courage” to stand up against Kepit Man and Umno….but today Din I am among those who await your political demise, not on the never never time frame, but a political demise that will surely come when Umno tires of you. And that Din, is already a Work in Progress. Allah help you Din for you know that Umno, PAS, Mahathir, Anwar, Azmin and Zuraida never will! -Hussein Abdul Hamid aka st47.

A cabinet of misfits...

In the Indian Parliamentary elections in 2014, one-third or 185 of the 542 winning candidates had criminal cases against them. They (never attempted to hide them) declared that they had been charged for among others murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, crimes against women, and communal disharmony. They occupy both sides of the divide in the House. The same cannot be said about our members of Parliament. All had been declared “clean” by the police and the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission (MACC). The definition of “clean” in this context is that he or she has not been charged or convicted for any criminal offence. There are some MPs and even cabinet ministers who under a cloud – investigations into their lapses are ongoing. And if the MACC is allowed to proceed with the prosecution, those involved will fall by the wayside. I know this for a fact because I have personal knowledge and had helped the authorities in their investigations. It is said that to get into politics, there is no entry point or qualification. To rise in the political arena, one must be loyal to the party elders and undertake overt and covert operations on the instructions of the boss. From “getting the boys” to being a “bag carrier” and from getting posters printed to getting them stuck on lamp posts, he or she must have done it all. In short, he or she must be a lackey or for want of a better word, crony. The rewards – not necessarily monetary – are immeasurable. To even be the cheerleader for the incumbent is a privilege accorded to a few as events over the years have shown.

In Singapore, those in the corporate sector are identified by the ruling party, interviewed and persuaded to become candidates. Hence, the quality can be seen in their performance both in and out of Parliament. The same cannot be said about our parliamentarians who come with varied backgrounds and some are plucked from oblivion to join the hustings. Academic qualifications, common sense and intimate knowledge of issues are seldom the criteria. Hence, the quality or lack of it can be seen in the Dewan Rakyat and sometimes in the Dewan Negara. Some are there for the sake of creating the din and noise and to a certain extent to raise their hands in approval or oppose proposals as and when the situation demands. A quick inspection of the Hansard will reveal among others, their sparse attendance and their failure to take part in debates. The only time they spoke was when reading the number of the question they had submitted: "Tuan Speaker Soalan Nombor Tiga.” It has been just over a month since the Perikatan Nasional came into power and the competency – more the lack of it – is in the public domain for all to see and read. We have seen ministers falling all over trying to compete for the dubious title of the best-of-the-worst title. The health minister has advocated (over national television) that drinking air suam (warm water) kills the coronavirus. The housing minister was seen in a “Telly Tubby” suit with dozens of firemen cleaning the streets. Video footage, however, showed two firemen at the task with the minister and the others watching this whole spectacle. The deputy women’s affairs minister has dished out advice to women as if she was the official spokesperson for the Obedient Wives Club! And the riposte from aggrieved women’s organisations and individuals is still reverberating as this article is being written.

Yet, another minister was keen on cleaning our sewerage system to get rid of the coronavirus! But the minister of higher education takes the cake. She had launched a Tik-Tok competition only to abandon it and run with her tail between her legs when it imploded. Meritocracy and competency had never featured in cabinet appointments or even appointments in the civil service. Ministers in the previous government were also stumbling and fumbling in the initial stages but their shortcomings were a far shadow from the antics of some of the present lot. Where do we go from here? You can’t change the mind-sets of some people who are fixated on issues based on religion, race and creed – not fact. A few are obsessed in making hay while the sun shines through grandiose ideas and plans which bring little or no benefit to the rakyat. Surely, their schooling, upbringing and experience would not have allowed these incidents to take place unless of course, they have none of the above. Could the cabinet secretary publish the curriculum vitae (CV) of all ministers and their deputies? Perhaps, then there will be some sympathy because people would say: “What to expect? He didn’t even finish secondary school” or “She was just selling cempedak goreng by the roadside when she was pulled out from obscurity to the forefront.” Can a crash course or an induction into systems, governance and communication help? Not likely. One commentator on social media gave a broad hint: “Right brain is not working and the left brain is empty.” Perhaps a bit too punitive but if the bumbling, blundering and nonsensical acts and omission continue, be prepared for even harsher judgments from the people. - R.Nadeswaran

Story kat sini...

cheers.

Sumber asal: Konspirasi politik sebelum PRU15... Baca selebihnya di Konspirasi politik sebelum PRU15...

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emmaekay · 7 years ago

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Kotonari - Travel, Part One

AN: Yo! Told you I wpuld have time for a couple updates this week. Here’s update #2! I hope everybody enjoys it. Mostly a lot of explanations and exposition. You can read this on Ao3, too!

Travel – Part One

Dende stepped back from the bed, satisfied and tired. Who knew Vegeta’s memories would be so lewd! Who knew Dende’s theory would work?

Dende had been studying Saiyans and the Keiyaku for a long time, and when he heard that the princess was carrying the rare Saiyan Gemini twins, he prepared himself for the worst - namely, he prepared himself to bring Bulma back from the brink of death. It was serendipitous that the Queen had also known the sacred Namekian practice of preserving and restoring life, since Bulma would have been long dead by the time he arrived.

Once Dende found out what had been going on with Prince from Daiku and the King, Dende had started to form a plan. What if he connected their memories through the Keiyaku? It was always Dende’s plan to have the Prince Vegeta go into the spirit world in search of Bulma’s soul. After all, it was the Prince who had the strongest connection to Bulma, the Prince who had shared most of her time on this planet, the Prince who shared their bond. It was the obvious answer. Without Vegeta available to them, Dende had to get creative.

The morning that his Namekian brothers had arrived, Dende, Daiku, Nappa and the King had talked together in the Prince’s kitchen as the sun was rising. Once the King was restored to health by the Queen and Dende, all the Saiyans had been able to talk about was the battle in the storm.

“That wasn’t Vegeta,” Nappa said. “That looked like Vegeta, and it damn sure hit like Vegeta, but that wasn’t Vegeta. I – that was … I have seen those blood red eyes, but never in Vegeta’s face.”

Daiku agreed. “He wasn’t in his right mind.”

“More than that,” the King admitted. “He has been overthrown.”

Daiku and Nappa looked at the King quizzically. “Overthrown, my lord?” Daiku asked.

“Nappa… do you remember the mission to the Dokuishiki asteroid?” the King named that birth place of the miasma, the spreader of evil and malice throughout the galaxy.

Nappa pushed back from the table. “I try not to."

“What happened on that asteroid, Nappa? All died but you and Vegeta, who came back whole of body but with no memory of the events after you left this planet?”

Nappa cocked his jaw to one side, gritting his teeth and pursing his lips.

“Nappa,” the King repeated himself. “I didn’t push it at the time. We had so much loss to cover up, so many Saiyans dead. You said you didn’t remember, Vegeta said he didn’t remember… we let it go. We let it go, but we should not have. Whatever evil lived there, on that hellish rock, lives now in my son.”

“I didn’t know!” Nappa insisted, standing now, one hand board flat and pointed at the King. “I didn’t know it had taken Vegeta, too. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

“Nappa, I am not accusing you of treason! I just need to know what happened.”

Nappa gritted his teeth, the muscles working in his jaw. “When we landed, we waited for the rest of the pods to arrive. When all were present, we made our egress. Our suits indicated an atmosphere on the rock, good to breathe, stable. We took off our suits.”

The King shoved the empty chair at Nappa, who sat heavily, as if the weight of his tale, of his secret, bore down on him with implacable gravity. “We took off our suits,” he repeated, “and that’s all it needed to get in. From the rock burst tendrils of charcoal black smoke, and the tendrils drove into every Saiyan there – through skin, mouths, noses, ears. Gasping, choking Saiyans fell to the rocky ground.”

Nappa spun a butter knife idly on the table. “Don’t tell him I told you, but I picked Vegeta up and I threw him 20 yards into his pod. He slammed into the back and the pod snapped closed.” He looked across the table at the King, “Elatha as my witness, my King, I didn’t think it had touched him.”

“How did you escape, Nappa?” Daiku asked.

“I didn’t, my friend. I felt that poison invade me, as it did my brothers and sisters around me. I choked and retched as the dark, greasy sizzle made its way up my throat, up my nose, into my eyes. It felt like being thrown into tar – tar that knew things. Knew every cowardly thought I’d ever had. Knew every fear I’d ever buried. Showed me things. My Choy, raped and beaten by Frieza’s bastards. The King and Queen’s heads on pikes outside the castle. Prince Vegeta and all my friends, all my friends, all my people crushed and broken and dead before me. All this in moments, all this in the few moments it took Vegeta to depressurize his pod.”

Nappa didn’t want to talk about this, but it now bore saying. “My King, what I saw in 30 seconds was enough to make me want to take my own life. That… is how the other Saiyans died. They killed themselves on that fucking rock, driven insane by the miasma. Vegeta blasted me to within an inch of my life as I was about to drive this hand,” Nappa indicated the blade of his palm with a shake, bringing it up to his chest, “through my heart. Indeed I may have died and been resuscitated by my pod, for that is where I awoke.”

The three Saiyans shared a silent exchange of looks. Dende, little Dende, was the one to break the stalemate. “Then, if he was exposed then as everyone else was, Vegeta has been enduring these same images – these same thoughts – for years?”

“It can be assumed,” the King stated.

Dende left the Saiyan men at that, heading back to the bedroom to check on The Boy, who was keeping his mother alive through sheer force of will alone. When he saw that all was well with the boy and his mother, Dende decided to meditate. Surely there was a way to free them both – Prince and Princess. In his meditation, the plan began to form. If he could reach Bulma’s soul, could he send it through the Keiyaku to the Prince’s soul?

If the Prince had truly been overthrown, his soul was trapped in an in-between much like the Princess’ soul. If Dende could use their bond to send the Princess to him, would it give him the strength he needed to break free of the taint? This depended on many things. First, how strong was their bond? Would Bulma’s soul know Vegeta, remember Vegeta, help Vegeta? Or would he be making things worse? Next came the question of his own strength. He was a capable healer, he had studied Saiyans, but could he manipulate a force he had never felt? And could he do it without his people’s help?

A knock at the door interrupted Dende’s meditation.

Beri rushed in. “Excuse me, Dende, there are some of your folk here. And they’re asking for the King, but I think it would be best if you greeted them first. One looks… powerfully angry.”

“Piccolo!” Dende’s face lit up and he ran past Beri into the hallway and down to the door. And his supposition was correct, Piccolo stood in the doorframe with a face like thunder. Behind him were the relieved faces of Forte and Tremolo, and behind them was Nail. “Brothers! What brings you here?”

“What brings us here?!” Piccolo snapped. “What brings me here is the fact that a little green doctor has been missing and a Saiyan Prince tried to kill me!”

Dende’s eyes were wide. “Oh. Well, you must come in, of course. What happened? And I’m not missing,” he said, shutting the door behind him, “at all. As you can see, I simply arrived to our destination much more quickly than you.”

Piccolo rolled his eyes. “Where is the King?”

“In the kitchen, I shouldn’t wonder. But brother, there is trouble here, so please be understanding.” Dende explained all that had happened in the hours since Daiku had found him on the road, as he lead his brothers into the kitchen and the presence of the King.

The King, Daiku and Nappa were still sitting at the table where Dende had left them a little while ago. “King Vegeta, these are some of my people. Piccolo, Nail, Tremolo and Forte.” Each inclined his head in greeting as Dende named them. “Piccolo has had some contact with Vegeta.”

“I see,” said the King. “What brings you here?”

“Your son tried to murder me for the crime of having a nap.” The King arched an eyebrow and bade him tell the full story, which he did, brusquely and without embellishment. He finished by asking, “Are Namekians to be assaulted in public for no crime other than crossing a Saiyan’s path?”

“That,” the King began, “is not what has happened. My son is infected with the miasma from Dokuishiki asteroid, he is not himself.” The King decided to explain, truthfully, the heart of the matter. “His mind is overthrown by that poison, and he is not in control of his body or of his power. The Prince has never born any ill will to the Namekian people. I bear no ill will toward you, you are our allies. The Queen herself declared your people protected by ours, she made unprovoked attacks on peaceful Namekians a capital crime. In all your people’s years with us, has any Saiyan ever attacked your people?”

“No.” Piccolo would have been the first to demand revenge and redress, had that ever happened. His people would have told him immediately if they had been harassed.

“Then you must believe me when I tell you that the being that tried to kill you was not my son.”

“Brother,” Dende interjected, “Now that you’re here, I need your help. All of your help, actually.”

Beri bustled in to the kitchen then. “I’m going to cook. Would you like anything?” she addressed the Namekians because of course the Saiyans would want to be fed.

“Just water, please.” Tremolo asked.

“Come,” Dende said, “Let’s get out of Beri’s way and go refresh ourselves while I tell you my plan.”

The Namekians left the room as a group, and the King turned to the other Saiyan men. “Come with me, into the study. I want to take The Boy into the training grounds for a few hours, but we need to formulate a plan to find Vegeta first.”

And so the men departed to formulate their strategies of training and spying, hawkers were sent for and messages dispatched to the Crown’s Battalion. The Boy awoke and all had breakfast before departing, leaving Dende and his brothers to test his theory on exploiting the Keiyaku to free both the Prince and Princess from their bondage.

Piccolo guarded the front door, Nail guarded the bedroom door. Tremolo acted as life support, making sure the Princess had no new wounds to heal and kept her heart beating, lungs filling with air. Forte blanketed Dende, Tremolo and the Princess in his strong ki to support all three lifeforces in their work. Dende would act as the third – the one to go into the spirit world and locate Bulma’s soul. He meditated, aligning his mind with hers and letting his consciousness flow down into the dreamlike world of the dead.

He found her sitting in a room filled with machinery, strange glass boxes that flashed with lights and pictures, the room humming with energy and pulsating with mechanical sounds. She was staring down at great sheets of blue paper with intricate, indecipherable white lines that indicated some great work of steel and ki and fuel like blood running through it.

“Hello,” he said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Just a minute, I’ve almost got this.” Bulma stared down at her paper, a burning cylinder of paper in her mouth.

“Where is this?”

“My lab.” Bulma finally looked up from her work, breathing smoke out of her mouth and nose. “You’re green.”

“Yep.”

Bulma flicked her eyebrows in acceptance of the fact. “I’m stuck on this problem, and I can’t figure it out. Which is not normal because there’s nothing I can’t figure out. I mean that – nothing. And you’re … green. Small. Never seen you before in my life. These things lead me to believe that I’m dreaming.”

“Something like that,” Dende said.

“Huh. Okay.”

“Would you like to wake up?”

“Yes. I don’t like this dream,” Bulma admitted. “And I feel like there’s something important I’ve forgotten, like I fell asleep in the middle of a project that can’t be late – or like I’m sleeping through an important date.”

“Come along with me, and we’ll see if I can’t wake you up,” Dende walked over to Bulma and extended his hand to her, wearing the softest and friendliest smile he had ever worn. Bulma took his hand and her laboratory faded into mist, replaced by deep black nothingness and the feeling of being catapulted along a rail at hundreds of miles an hour. She felt like she was riding the bullet train with her head out the window of a car – but there was no wind. Just the sense of impossibly fast propulsion, carrying her along a swift river of energy.

Dende saw and felt the trip much differently. Beautiful colors flashed around him, swirling and looping, changing and repeating. No sense of movement, but emotions that weren’t his own flooded his heart. Deepest sorrow, joyful elation, honest regret and strangest of all… a thing Namekians didn’t feel so fiercely… overflowing love. Overflowing love that brought tears to his eyes and rent his heart into pieces. As Dende pushed Bulma’s soul through the Keiyaku, he felt it. He felt what it was like to be a true Saiyan and the devotion they have to their mates.

Bulma slipped past him, through the bond and into the darkness that awaited her when her soul met Vegeta’s.

Dende had done it. They were joined. Now, would Vegeta help her make the final tether to this world? Would Bulma give Vegeta the strength to break free of the miasma. Dende sat back on his heels and waited, meditating while his brothers gave him strength.

---

Bulma opened her eyes with a gasp. “Where am I? Where are my babies? Who are you guys?” She stared at Forte and Tremolo, who stood at the foot of her bed.

“Princess Bulma!” Dende cried out, throwing his arms around her neck and hugging her. “You’re awake!” He turned his face to the other Namekians. “Tremolo, get Beri. Forte, get the Queen!”

The two Namekians fled the room with smiles on their faces.

“Princess Bulma, I am Dende. Those were two of my folk, named Forte and Tremolo. Also here are Nail and Piccolo from my people. You are in your bedroom. Your children are safe and well with the lady Beri, who wi-“

“LADY BULMA!” Beri hurtled into the room to drape herself over Bulma’s lap as she sat up in the bed. Beri wept and wept with relief and joy. “You’re alive. You’re alive!” She wrapped her steel cable arms around Bulma’s waist and crushed the air out of her lungs in the fiercest embrace. “Oh thank all the gods and goddesses, all the doctors and healers, all the stars in the sky, you’re alive!”

Bulma laughed despite her confusion. “Beri, you’re crushing me.”

Beri released her, but grabbed for one of Bulma’s hands with one of her own, swiping at tears with the other. “I’m sorry, but you – you’ve been dead for days.”

“Dead?” Bulma’s head swam.

“Oh! Your babies, let me get your babies!” Beri jumped off the bed with such force that Bulma bounced, running into the adjacent nursery and scooping up the little prince and princess before hurrying back to place them both into Bulma’s waiting arms. “They’re healthy, perfectly healthy. I did my best for them while you were… gone. I kept them always with me, unless they were with the King or the Queen. I was never away from them.”

Bulma cradled the children in her lap, marveling at their beauty. Her heart was bursting with love and pride and… wait.

“Where’s Vegeta?”

Beri looked down. “Princess… He…”

The Queen entered the room. “Vegeta is… not ill, not dead, but something else.”

Bulma remembered him, hanging there in something like the blackest, darkest dungeon. “Wait. I saw him.”

Dende shoved forward now, “You saw him?”

“Just… just before I woke up. I was with him. He was … imprisoned?”

“What happened?” Dende asked, the Queen drawing nearer in concern and curiosity. “Did you talk with him? Is he free?”

“I …” Bulma squinted, trying to remember, but the memory was like a dream – harder and harder to recall the more you tried. “I was with him, in the dark. He asked me if I remembered the children, we talked. I got angry with him because … because it seemed like he’d given up. Like he was content to remain chained in the dark. Like he was content to forget me, forget our babies.”

She stopped to stroke the little prince’s cheek. “So I slapped him. Hard. Twice, maybe three times. He yelled at me. I went to slap him again, and he… he broke free. To stop me slapping him. Because I think – I think he forgot, for just that instant, that he was bound. I think the only thing keeping him bound there was the idea that he was bound there. After that he just… slipped out. He was free. I felt like I was waking up, but I told him to come home. He said he’d be on his way.”

Bulma lifted the babies up to her chest and hugged them both tightly.

The Queen sat down next to her and gathered all three – Bulma, prince and princess – into her arms. Bulma cried. “What is going on?” Bulma asked her, tearfully.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll explain everything,” the Queen assured her. “I’ll explain it all.”

Dende cleared his throat. “One more thing… was there anything else in the ‘dungeon’ with you? Anyone else?” “A voice,” Bulma told him. “A dark, angry, brutal rasp. It said the most horrible things to Vegeta…. Vegeta said that the voice, whoever it was, wanted him to forget me. Told him that he deserved to be trapped there.”

Dende nodded. “It’s as I suspected. This would have happened, sooner or later – the only thing preventing it this last year and some months has been you, Bulma. Your love for Vegeta. His love for you. He needed you. He needed your light to keep this darkness at bay.”

Take me to a man who needs me, just as much as I need him! Take me to the man I’m destined to be with!

Bulma’s words to the dragon rang in her head.

#kotonari #vegebul au #vegebul #pooooooor nappa

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