The hunt had begun.The rain was coming down in thick, opaque sheets now, and they were hunting you down.You could hear their cheers and primal hollering from the rapidly decreasing space between you, but you continued to sprint for any distance you could maintain. Wet leaves and dirt clung to your feet and legs as you made a beeline for the cliff that came into your view. At this point you decided height was the only thing that would give you more time. The only illumination of your path came from the royal blue that the moon provided through the sea of storm clouds, and your route became harder to discern with each passing minute.You managed to reach the base of the rocky mountain edge and began your slippery ascent.
i learnt Hangul through this website- it’s amazing; i learnt Hangul in a day but thats because i find picking up languages easy but anyway, this is site is simple and easy to understand.
for grammar or generally learning Korean i used/use how to study Korean & talk to me in Korean - Personally i find how to study Korean much easier to use (plus it comes with LOTS AND LOTS of vocabulary per lesson; and i find the lessons really enjoyable)
And for other vocabulary/phrases/slang/pronunciation watch K Dramas ; they’re fun, easy to understand (with subs of course) and they’re a good way to pick up words/phrases.
some dramas I’ve watched (and HEAVILY enjoyed) are…
I remember you
Who are you school 2013
Who are you school 2015
Sassy go go
What happens to my family
cheese in the trap
its okay thats love
oh my venus
and a lot more but they’ve gone off the top of my head lmao
His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow // SHAWN MENDES
My black dress hung to me like a second skin as Shawn, dressed in a matching black suit, and I walked through the doors to where there was an engagement party for my best friend.
“Thanks for coming again, I know you’re tired,” I say swinging our entwined hands.
“You’re welcome sweetie,” Shawn says kissing my forehead as we wait for the lift. In a few minutes the doors were opening to the top floor where the party was being held.
“Jasmine!” I call when I see her, running as fast as my heels could take me to where she stands with her fiance Mark.
She squeals when she sees me. “Y/N” she hugs me before pulling back, noticing Shawn. “And you brought Shawn” Jasmine leans over to hug him who previously just shook hands with Mark.
“Its so beautiful here,” I comment, admiring the room that’s decorated with black and white balloons and streamers- the theme for the party.
“It turned out so well,” Jasmine says grinning at me widely.
Just then, another couple arrived walking through the lift doors.
“I’ll let you greet them and Shawn and I can go get drinks,” I say hugging her one last time.
“Awesome can you grab me a chardonnay?” she pleads.
“Sure,” I giggle before grabbing Shawn’s hand and tugging him to the bar.
“Can I get two Chardonnays and a beer please?” I ask the bartender who nods, grabbing the glasses.
I turn to look at Shawn whose already starring at me.
“What?” I ask, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
“Nothing, you just look beautiful,” He says smiling as my cheeks heat.
“You already said that in the car,” I say, unable to stop grinning.
“Can’t I tell you again?” He says, his hand resting on my hip.
I roll my eyes. “Knock yourself out,”
“Two chardonnays and a beer,” The bartender says placing the drinks on the ledge.
“Thanks,” I say grabbing the two wine glasses. “I’m going to give this to Jaz, be right back,” Shawn nods smiling at me.
I stand still for a second, not tearing my eyes away from Shawn’s who seems just as stuck as I.
“Drinks?” he murmurs, leaning forward till his nose brushed mine and his body was pressed against me.
“Right,” I squeaked, racing off but not before turning to look back to Shawn, his dark eyes still locked on mine.
“Jaz here,” I say once I reached her, passing her the glass.
“Thanks Y/N” she says gratefully. “Thanks for coming tonight,” she adds.
I shake my head, “No problem, I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,”
“I can’t wait until you and Shawn have an engagement party,” She giggles.
“Jaz!” I say looking away, my cheeks still red from before.
“Oh come on! We all know its going to happen” She protests laughing. “No one so held over heels for each other like you and Shawn are not going to end up together,”
“We’ll see,” I say softly, taking a sip of the wine.
Her eyes look behind me, “Shoot Mark’s parents are here, you know how they are, sorry y/n” she rests a hand on my arm.
“Don’t worry I get it,” I say laughing pulling her into a hug. “Go knock em dead,” I cheer and she laughs, going to meet them.
I sigh. Yeah, I wanted to get married to Shawn but would he want to marry me? Would we even last- Shawn touring a lot of the year. What if we wanted to start a family? It would never be a stable environment for the child with Shawn gone most of the time.
“Has anyone told you that you look beautiful tonight?” a voice pulls me out of the day dream. A man, few inches shorter then Shawn, with blonde hair smiles at me.
“Yeah, actually a few minutes ago,” I say smiling.
“Wasn’t a smart move to let you leave him then,” the guy says smirking. I begin to feel uncomfortable, shifting on my feet.
“He didn’t really let me-”
“I’m Simon- and you are?” He asks putting his hand forward for me to shake. Well then.
“I’m Y/N,” I say trying not to grimace.
“Beautiful girl, beautiful name,”
“Look I better go, my-” I try to say but he cuts me off again.
“I think you should stay, lets chat for a bit,” He says, grabbing my hand to pull me back, tilting his head.
“Thanks but no-”
“So who are you to the lucky couple,” He asks smiling, showing off his perfectly white teeth.
“Soon to be wife’s best friend,” I say, voice lack of emotion.
“Cool, cool,” He nods, taking a sip from his glass. Out of the corner of my eye I see an angry figure make his way towards us. Shawn.
“Guess I’ll see you at the wedding then?” He asks looking hopeful.
“I think not,” Shawn says, pulling me into his side.
“Simon,” I grin, “This is my boyfriend”
“How you doing?” Shawn asks, his smile telling a different story to his eyes that were dark with anger.
“Good man, look I better get a refill,” Simon says and before we can even reply he’s gone.
“How dare he?” Shawn says lowly. “My girlfriend, who does he think he is?” he slams his cup onto the table, some of it sloshing out the side.
“Shawn, calm down, he’s gone,” I say placing one hand on his arm, rubbing softly, trying to calm him down.
He exhales, “He had no respect for you, I mean, you told him to fuck off like 10 times but it just made him try harder. His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow,”
I can’t help but giggle. “Aren’t you just one big protective boyfriend?” I tease.
He glances at me, picking up his beer again before looking back at Simon who stands across the room, now talking to a group of men. So much for a refill.
“I hate him,” he states. I wrap one arm around his waist, leaning into his side while one of Shawn’s arms rests across my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I whisper in his ear trying to get his attention.
“Mmm,” Shawn nods still death glaring Simon.
“I bought a dog,” I say smirking at his concentration on death glaring.
Shawn nods again.
I leave a few seconds silence, the chatter in the room being all we can hear.
“I want to get married,”
“Yeah completely,” Shawn takes a sip of his drink.
“We better get married soon though because I’m pregnant and I want to look slimming in my dress-” Shawn coughs, beer dribbling down his chin a little.
“Oh my gosh, Shawn,” I laugh, grabbing a napkin from the table and passing it quickly to him.
“What do you mean you’re pregnant?” He says, voice raspy.
“I’m not- just wanted to see if you were listening,” I grin. He rolls his eyes.
“Guess that means you don’t want to get married either,” he says pulling me close to him, wrapping both arms around my waist.
“Probably not,” I giggle, both of us teasing the other.
“And to think I bought this with me tonight,” Shawn pauses, pulling a small box out of his coat pocket, opening it up to show a diamond ring that glitters when the light caught it.
Without going into too much detail on this part of things, there was an old friend of mine who actually didn’t sign with WWE in hopes that we could do something special this year. And I would feel- In all of the excitement I had almost forgotten that that was something that should be important to me.
with the FAHC can be wildly beneficial; so long as you play by their
rules. So long as you pay your dues, defer to Ramsey and fulfil your
promises, so long as you remember that for all their wicked laughter
the Fake’s do not play around when it comes to threats. When it comes
to debts. If you don’t produce what you owe, if you fall behind, try
to deceive or slink out of the city, you’ll quickly find yourself
hosting an unwelcome visitor.
FAHC have three key enforcers, three heavyweights who enact the
majority of the crew’s dirty work. There are others, of course, some
that come and go, some that have other roles, but all of Los Santos
recognise these three. The guard dogs, the brawlers, the muscle; the
violent core of an inherently dangerous crew, they keep order,
deliver punishment, deal with any who grow more problematic than the
FAHC are comfortable with.
they merely accompany one of the others, shadow Ramsey to a meeting
or the Frontman to a deal, they’ll be silent warning, visible
promise; so long as everything goes to plan they are no danger,
unnecessary unless they aren’t. If they come alone though, if one
comes knocking all by himself, shit is about to hit the wall and
nothing you do or say can stop it. There’s no telling which enforcer
will show, and there is great debate surrounding which of the three
is the worst, which is the one you should pray to avoid.
Vagabond is a popular option, the obvious choice for worst of the
worst; no one want’s to open the door and see that skull grinning
back at them. Nobody wan’t to explain their shortcomings to the
boogieman of Los Santos, to the mercenary who’s said to have no
mercy, who’s said to have no restraint, whose lust for death is
curbed only by the wishes of his master. Everyone’s heard the
stories, everyone’s seen the aftermath; the Vagabond is not a man to
be taken lightly.
quietly, privately, some have admitted that when it comes to a
shakedown, to a threat and a nasty reminder rather than an actual
punishment, a visit from the Vagabond might not be the worst Ramsey
has to offer. There’s something meticulous in the Vagabond, something
endlessly patient; it’s an unspeakably horrifying quality in a
killer, but not quite such a bad thing in an enforcer. He’s
terrifying, yes, and if he actually plans on carrying through there
is no escape, but in terms of deadlines and ultimatums at least he’s
upfront. At least he’s clear; there are rules to interacting with the
Vagabond, and so long as you abide by them you won’t attract his ire.
He’ll fulfil Ramsey’s wishes to the letter but so long as you keep
your head down and your nose clean that’s as far as he will go.
is not always the case with the Fake AH Crew’s resident short fuse;
Jones, Mogar, rage incarnate, the walking personification of
destruction. If Jones is sent to knock some heads together there is
absolutely nothing stopping him from throwing in a few broken bones
for free. As loyal to the boss as the Vagabond but where the
mercenary seems willing to carry out orders as requested, Jones likes
to embellish on them. There is no overstating the volatile nature of
the mans temper; Jones can jump from complete calm to irrevocable
rage in the blink of an eye, can seem utterly reasonable one moment
and irrationally furious the next.
fully capable of unexpected bouts of tolerant patience Jones has no
time for perceived idiocy, no sympathy for broken promises. He is, in
a way, a man of honour and once you’ve lost his respect there’s no
coming back. Even those he leaves unscathed may not escape unmarked;
like a dog with a bone his disdain will follow you, a dark blot noted
by all who fear his wrath. He might not have the same reputation as
the Vagabond, might not swing the same flavour of danger, but stories
of his temper are no less prevalent, warnings against pinging his
radar no less profound. If Jones turns on you not even your gods will
there’s Dooley, Little J, the newest of Ramsey’s attack dogs. Based
on looks alone he seems like he could be trouble, compact but visibly
strong, handling his weapons with practised ease, but unlike Jones or
the Vagabond Dooley always comes in smiling. Comes in with a slap to
the shoulder, a friendly chat, some commiseration over the
difficulties of the job. It’s easy enough, after that, to think that
he’s a light touch. To think Ramsey’s newest enforcer lacks the
presence of his partners, lacks their eager viciousness, to think he
is easily the best of the three to have turn up at your door.
for all that banter Little J is no less committed to his crew, no
less judgemental of your disappointing display, no less
breathtakingly ruthless. When the Vagabond brings up your failings he
gets begging. When Jones sneers at your incompetence he gets excuses.
When Little J asks about the complications you had, friendly and
understanding and naively inexperienced, you’ll open right up. You’ll
spill your fucking guts, and he’ll let you. He’ll listen and nod in
all the right places, he’ll smile like you’re buddies and you’ll be
so sure you’ve gotten away with it that you’ll fail to notice the way
he never let go of your shoulder. The way he never stepped out of
your space. You’ll keep digging your own grave right up until his
hand tightens and shoves you into a wall, until he holds you there
effortlessly despite your struggles, until he leans in close and
explains just how badly you’ve messed up. There’s no room for excuses
now, not after you’ve admitted everything, no chance to change your
story; all you can do is nod, is agree, is promise and grovel and
plead, say whatever it is you need to say before Dooley is satisfied.
He’ll step back then, let you go and straighten your shirt, clap you
on the shoulder as he turns to leave, still chattering away like
nothing happened. Still smiling like you’re buddies.
great debate about which of Ramsey’s enforcers is the most
intimating, which would be the worst option to find knocking at your
door. Its a conversation with no resolution, an eternal loop; they
argue about the worst, because god knows which of the three is the
best. God knows which could be called relief, called merciful. They
argue about the worst, all knowing exactly what the answer is.
Knowing nothing could trump a visit from more than one, nothing could
be more dangerous, more worthy of abject terror. If Ramsey sends a
pair of his enforcers things are guaranteed to get nasty, things are
guaranteed to get wildly unpleasant, but even two cannot compare to
all three. If all three come knocking there is no escape, if all
three come knocking the game is up, your run is over. It’s overkill
to the extreme, the rare combination of raw threat, blinding rage and
subtle menace so powerfully unnecessary it can only be a message. If
the Fake’s key enforcers come knocking the very best you can hope for
is to be the one chosen survivor left to spread the word.