#gangster granny

[originalhaffigaza]

[jewlybaby]

i have never seen anyone dress any older womxn like this in a photo until now and i am living for it!

they titled it: gangster granny

[marlowe1-blog]

"A Good Man is Hard to Find" (Flannery O'Connor The Complete Stories)

Fuck this Racist Ofay

Remember how I was planning on reviewing all the Flannery O'Connor stories the same way that I am reviewing all the John Cheever stories (even toward the end when he's making less sense)? Remember how the first two stories got a reaction of "is this story racist or is it about racists? If it's just about racists, why am I supposed to sympathize with a man who is freaking out because his daughter in NYC is living next to N-----s?

I even saw a reaction saying that "Geraniums" is actually a critique of racism. Bullshit. It's about an old racist who is having a bad day and has to deal with the world moving on and he can't even get a damn view of a flower from the building across the street. It's like the later story where the old general is wheeled out for his daughter's graduation in a Confederate uniform only O'Connor keeps referencing the Coke machine. Like get it? Coca-Cola is becoming more important to these people than their great Southern heritage.

Oddly enough, I searched for Flannery O'Connor on Facebook because I remember someone I know saying that he hated Flannery O'Connor. What I did not remember was that I had posted an article entitled "Why is Flannery O'Connor getting canceled?" and the friend (Shai Rishon who is a pretty cool rabbi) said that he hated Flannery O'Connor and I said "Even A Good Man is Hard to Find?"

I was arguing that Flannery O'Connor has racism in her stories and might have been racism but a lot of her stories are really good so we can still read them and it's fine.

That impression was from reading the book A Good Man is Hard to Find in college. Let me revise that impression with my impression from trying to read the complete stories, including the six that she turned in for the University of Iowa writing program.

Flannery O'Connor is a racist bitch. Her stories were all racist. I can't keep reading stories asking me to sympathize with old racist Southerners who won't stop saying N----- or pickaninny (which is definitely a slur but might be ok to write out in just regular essays.)

Reading "A Good Man is Hard to Find" as a first O'Connor story is an experience of reading a sick and twisted horror story from the perspective of a very stupid old lady who is trying to talk "The Misfit" out of his murderous ways even after he's shot the rest of her family. Reading the story in the context of bullshit like Geranium (oh poor old racist has to live next to black people) and The Barber (dumb nominally liberal guy isn't a N---- lover but he doesn't like the 1940s version of Trump but he can't argue that in a barbershop full of racists who keep referring to the one black kid in the place as being in complete agreement with them (remember the Chris Rock routine about how there's no one quite as racist as old black people, because they will be all smiles when the white people are around but as soon as it's just black people they won't stop going on about white motherfuckers? Well, it's actually prejudice since racism is a system of white supremacy but yeah, one is pretty certain that George is cussing these crackers out behind their back. Only O'Connor doesn't give him a voice)

In that context, Grandma in "A Good Man is Hard to Find" is another old cracker who has to point out a black kid just minding his own business and call him a N---- because that adds color.

So by the time Grandma's cat causes an accident (is the cat ok? The father threw the cat at a tree) I'm done with these people. The Misfit getting his people to take out first the father and son and then the mother and daughter while Grandma is talking about redemption or some shit isn't tragic or horrifying. It's fucking hilarious.

This was not O'Connor's intention. I don't really care about her intention but I'm quite sure it was some shit about Catholic guilt and sin and martyrdom.

But honestly, I don't give a shit. Seriously fuck these characters and fuck O'Connor.

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST TRAILER

Uptown Girl (Part One)

Summary: When your high society life comes crumbling down around you. You are left to deal with the inherited mess your father's love of the casino tables had landed him in, and the gangster he had settled his debts with. Mr Thomas Shelby. But when heads butt during your first encounter with the notorious gang leader over the deeds to Arrow House. You both stubbornly refuse to back down, begrudgingly accepting each other as an unwelcome housemate. With your future on the line, and the arranged union you want to be free from rapidly approaching. You come to the quick realisation that if you can't force the blue-eyed squatter from your house, then you would drive him out. One way or another.

Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of death by suicide

Word Count: 4535

Authors Note: £200-£300 sterling pound in 1924, was worth between £10000-£15000 in todays value.

"So it's agreed then, Miss?" the smartly dressed man with hungry eyes questioned you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he greedily beamed down at the delicate diamond necklace sitting on the plush red velvet cushion below it. "£200 for the Elysée necklace, and it's matching earrings?"

"£250 for the necklace alone, Mr Burton" you quickly corrected his value of the precious jewel sat in front of you. The last of your mother's cherished collection gifted to her on her wedding day.

" £300 for the lot" his eyes narrowed in on the lustrous stones adorned with a cluster of diamonds weighing down your ears. He would have the full collection, or nothing at all.

" Scandalous! " your Granny's voice quivered as she sat in the corner of your father's office. Exceedingly displeased with the intentionally low estimation of your family's jewels as her satin gloved fingers clutched tightly around her walking stick.

" It is but business, Mam" the Jeweler replied with an avid, gold-toothed smile. His arms flamboyantly hovering in the air as he bowed to the former Duchess of Arrow House with anything but the respect she was once shown.

" Hm!" your dear Grans voice hiccuped as she turned her head in displeasure to the gentleman who was a far cry from the considerate businessman he claimed to be. But rather, that of a man who had fallen upon a family's suffering through yet another death brought on by the woes of a troubled mind.

" £300 it is then" you announced with your head held high, removing the last remaining item of value you possessed from the soft lobes of your ears to join its sister necklace.

With reluctant hands, you gracefully placed each earring onto the cushioned fabric. The tips of your fingers brushing over the passing memories of you sat as a small child on the edge of your mother's bed. Mesmerised by her beauty as you watched her adorn her gown with each jewel that would accompany her on a soiree of dancing and champagne. They will be yours one day, my darling girl, her voice whispered to you like a passing summer breeze as you closed your eyes. The grief you still felt for her loss now weighed down with that of your father's recent death.

" Wonderful!" the Jeweler's voice snatched you away from your cherished memories. Snatching the precious stone from under your fingers and replacing them with a stack of King George banknotes." Pity old George couldn't help you out, hm?"

" Pity? Pity?!" your Granny's voice rose to a squeaky pitched tone of offense as her stern expression honed in on the jeweler that was about to get a good old-fashioned telling off. " Well I never. If you were any the wiser, Mr Burton. I would take your insolent, blithering..."

"Yes, thank you, Granny. Good day to you, Mr Burton" you interrupted your Grans inevitable barrage of flustered insults as you ushered the jeweler from the study. Saving him from not only her sharp words but your family's faltering reputation from another scandal you wished to avoid.

" Oh, how the mighty have fallen" the Jeweler's teasing words echoed back to your Gran still perched on the small cushioned chair, outraged by the sheer cheek of the man, when your brother loudly made his unwelcome appearance through the foyer.

" Mighty, and of good stock!" your brother cheered back, having heard only a portion of what was more of an insult than any compliment his far away thoughts had understood. " Oh, I say..." your brother's eyes widened at the large stash of banknotes stacked in a pile on the polished desk as he entered the room.

" Johnathan. What are you doing here?" you impatiently asked, snatching them away and swiftly making your way across the room to Frances waiting with your brother's shotgun he had lumbered her with by the door after a day of hunting stags on the property. " For the wages, and upkeep" you discretely whispered, handing the money to your most trusted employee with only one banknote remaining for your father's impending funeral.

" Oh sissy, how dire" your brother said upon seeing the lonely note being folded in your hand and safely into the pocket of your dress as he sat down, puffing on what was left of his cigar while eyeing up anything he could sell, having already squandered his estate on the inherited trait of your father that had gotten you into this mess. Gambling. A mess which was now, your burden.

With only a penny left to his name, your father played his last and final hand in the backstreets of London's grottyest alleyway. Foolishly putting all his remaining hopes on the copper coin to win back his wasted fortune. But when the dice turned against his favour, sealing his losing fate. Your father slumped to the muddy ground, removing his gun and shooting himself point-blank in the side of the head. Left to die alone in the dark, penniless. Your father had succumbed to the very thing he had wasted his life on.

" Again Johnathan, what are you doing here? Or rather, what do you want?" you sighed with crossed arms, kicking his muddy boots from the ottoman in front of him.

" Why is everyone so glum, and in black?" your brother huffed, looking around the solemn room that was once filled with gold ornaments and neatly categorised books you would spend your time reading quietly on the feathered cushioned settee as your father mulled over the odds for his next bet at the races.

" Our father still lies cold on the morgue table, Johnathan" you scolded your older brother. Ten years older, to be precise.

Wise beyond your years, an old soul. That's what those dearest to you would say. In reality, you were nothing of the sort. But rather forced into behaving for both you and your idiotic brother, who was intent on staining the family's name with his seedy lifestyle.

" We're in mourning Johnny, my dear" your Granny looked upon your brother with an unwavering sigh of both love and tolerance that only a grandmother would show for her half-witted grandson to whom she was forever bound too. " And preparation. For a dark day has come to Arrow House" she dramatically finished as she turned her head away in disbelief about the morning's unfolding events.

" Preparation for what, exactly ?" your brother asked obliviously, or rather ignorantly to everything that had unfolded in the weeks prior to your father's death.

"Preparation for him. Mr Thomas Shelby." Your grandmother's voice rose as she turned to her eldest grandchild. " The gangster!" her voice pitched to an even higher note as she clutched her chest in horror at the situation her son, your father, had landed you in with the Birmingham gang leader your Granny could only envision to be like that of the viscous darkly creatures she had read in her nightly novels.

" A gangster, you say? How thrilling. This place could do with a little fun" your brother replied, flicking a dusty lamps weathered shade next to him. His need to live life further on the edge than what he was already precariously sat on, horrifying your Grandmother for a second time. "Does this gangster happen to drive a Bentley?"

" Oh god, he's early. Why is he so early?" You panicked at the approaching sound of a car on the gritted drive as your flustered fingers fidgeted with your pearl necklace.

" A gangster with good time keeping, sister" your brother smirked as he watched you smooth down the front of your dress, your lips silently mumbling your practiced speech.

" Johnathan, would you please shut up and stop calling him that. Would you like to get us all shot, and join Daddy in the morgue?" you huffed as the irritated former child in you made an appearance to your only sibling, who was enjoying, as he always did, purposely annoying you to the point of a foot-stomping childish outburst.

" And he brings two accompanying gangsters with him. What a burly looking lot" your brother's eyes narrowed in on the three men exiting the car behind the tempered glass.

" Johnathan! Shu..."

"Children please. I'm far too close to my own deathbed to withstand your bickering. Must I endure it until that very day?" your Grandmother sighed as she slowly approached you, her hand closing reassuringly around your jittery fingers. " Head up dear, don't let him see you falter" your Granny encouraged you, patting your hand and any lingering doubts away. "Stand firm. You'll leave this manor in grace and class" she stated, head held high as her cane came down to the floor with a thud in a show of both strength and dignity as she took your brothers' steadying arm, and he led her into the foyer.

You'll leave this manor in grace and class, your Grandmother's guiding words sat with the uncomfortable lump of deception now forming in your throat as you followed behind her. For the days events were about to take a very different turn than planned. A plan in motion that neither your Grandmother nor this wretched gangster Mr Shelby could have ever envisioned. One that was imperative for you to escape the dreaded wedding arranged since your birth to the brute of a man you were promised to in one month's time. Cal Astor.

"Here she is, boys" Tommy said, stepping out of the car, lighting a cigarette as he looked at his newly acquired stately home. " Let's hear it then. What do you think?"

" Got nothing on Small Heath" Arthur sniffed as he squinted to the very top of the sturdy bricked mansion, cautiously weighing up its threatening statue. "Nah, give me Watery Lane"

"The mud and shit too?"John asked, twisting his toothpick between his teeth as his face scrunched up at the elaborate fountain of a large busted woman spouting water from her nipples. Your brother's only, and soon to be discarded, ghastly contribution to Arrow House. "Bloody toffs"

"Especially the shit" Arthur replied, checking the imposing house's stability with a firm slap to the bricked wall. "Go on then Tom, tell us aye. What poor bastard did you fool into giving this up?" he said before tipping his hat to one of the many garden staff now scurrying off to safety in fear of his kneecaps being blown off. The result of another mighty tale from your Grandmother's overactive imagination, that had undoubtedly stirred the staff of Arrow House into a dizzy.

"A rich old bastard who had reached the bottom of his pockets" Tommy replied, blowing a puff of smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Well, where is the poor fucker then? No grand welcome?" Arthur asked, offended the red carpet and all its thrills hadn't been laid out for their arrival for such a grand home.

"Dead" Tommy flatly stated as he approached the towering wooden door, ignoring any of his brothers assumptions that he was the delivering hand of that untimely death. "Right come on lads. Best behaviour, eh?

"Jesus, bloody, Christ" John huffed, flicking his toothpick into the neatly cut grass, wary of what his brother had gotten them into this time.

Stood in the foyer with your only two remaining family members, and the staff under your employment orderly lined up beside you. You waited. Listening to the footsteps of the man you had yet to meet, slowly approaching.

" Mr Shelby, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding..." you quietly rehearsed under your breath when a loud, heavy fisted knock rattled the foyer door. Startling both you and your Grandmother.

" Must he be so barbaric? This house does possess a doorbell! your Grandmother fussed as you nodded to Frances to open the door and have you face the inevitable you could no longer delay.

As the door slowly opened, a low, gravely voice greeted your housekeeper. Accompanying it, three smartly dressed men, each one sporting a peak cap. As your eyes darted from the youngest of the men in front of you to the tallest with a large moustache neatly trimmed above his top lip, they finally came to land on the man stood in the middle. His steel blue stare instantly locking with yours. It was him, Thomas Shelby.

A painfully awkward silence suddenly settled in the air when all thought drifted mutually from your minds. Embarrassingly halting either one of you from saying or doing anything. Leaving everyone present in an uncomfortable shared state of confusion of darting stares as they stood silently in the foyer.

Uncomfortable for all but two, that was. For something far more intriguing had unexpectedly sparked in the silence between the daughter of high society and the Small Heath boy from the hardened streets of Birmingham. A spark neither one of you expected to be ignited that day as your shared gaze remained fixed on the other and time suddenly seemed to dissipate, with everything and everyone around you blurring into nothingness.

That was until the echo of your Grannie's cane booming on the marble floor brought you and Tommy back to the present world.

" Mr Shelby..." you began, clearing your throat as you watched him remove his peaked cap, when your intended words escaped your thoughts once again to the man stood before you. A man not hardened faced, loud and savage like your Grandmother would have you believe. But a man with striking features and a magnetic, demanding stance. Quietly stood observing you. Patiently waiting for formal introductions like any gentleman from your world would do.

"Mr Shelby, welcome to Arrow House" you unexpectedly greeted him with a politeness you had been adamant on guarding as you tried to compose yourself after your state of, confusion.

Did you come with the house too?, Tommy thought to himself, as a curious hint of a smile etched on the corner of his lips for the woman that had suddenly captivated him. Oblivious to who you was, and the pounding headache you would soon create for him.

"I'm afraid...I'm afraid there has been a misunderstanding, Mr Shelby" you said, having finally recomposed yourself as you held your head high. Unwilling to, as Granny said, falter.

"Misunderstanding?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he cautiously stepped closer, sharply aware of your Grandmother's sudden snap of her head in your direction.

" I'm here to inform you, that the arrangement you had with my father is void" you cleared your throat, watching your unwelcome guests eyes pierce through the guard you had quickly shielded yourself with as he learnt of your connection to the former owner of the house he was stood in.

" Void..." Tommy scoffed, cocking a brow. His patience with you dancing around the subject and what you really intended on saying becoming tiresome.

" Yes. Void" you firmly stated, defiantly crossing your arms in reaction to his less than pleasant tone of voice aimed solely at you. Both of your unexpected allure with the other suddenly evaporating, and swiftly being replaced with a mutual irritation for one another as the bricked walls of control over the matter began to both mutually stack themselves high. "Arrow House was not my father's to give, Mr Shelby"

" That right, eh?" Tommy chuckled, as he looked back to his brothers shared amusement for your firm, but endearing stance." Then who's is it, sweetheart?"

" Mine" you coldly gave the delivering blow, severing his entertainment before turning on your heel and making your way up the long winding stairs as the staff and your flustered Grandmother accompanied by your brother hastily scattered from the foyer. Leaving Tommy's brothers in a fit of laughter while he glared at you from below on the marble floor as the overseeing eye of the iron-clad documents of Arrow House emerged from an adjoining room.

"Mr Shelby. A word, perhaps?"

" In her name?" Tommy confirmed, clenching his jaw fiercely together as he hunched over what was, for all intents and purposes, his desk.

" Correct, Mr Shelby" your newly acquired lawyer mumbled, nervously shifting his eyes to the two brothers stood uncomfortably close behind him.

" I saw the deeds myself. Watched the lying bastard put them in my name" Tommy lifted his head, pointing his finger accusingly at the lawyer he was now convinced was trying to pull one over on him, and delay his move.

" I don't doubt you, Mr Shelby" he stepped closer, and away from the two pitbulls breathing unnervingly down his neck. " You see, before the recently departed Duke died. The late mother of Miss Y/N Y/L/N made sure the deeds to Arrow House, and its land, were put in her name"

Your beloved mother. Born into a life of poverty not so different to that of Tommy's. She too, had worked her way up the precarious ladder of wealth, further cementing her future after accepting your father's proposal of marriage. But a life of financial worries had not escaped her when she began to learn of her husband's burning pockets, and his love of the casino tables.

In a desperate last attempt on her deathbed, and to guarantee you financial security, sparing you from a life of chains beautified with gold and satin ball gowns she never envisioned for you. Your mother, the fellow owner of your childhood home, had the deeds of Arrow House signed over into your safeguard, and away from the high rolling hands of your father and brother.

" For fucks sake..." Tommy mumbled with a hefty sigh, slouching down into his chair having realised the predicament he now found himself in.

" Really landed yourself in it this time, aye Tom?" Arthur couldn't help but give his younger brother an overdue sibling ribbing.

" Fuck off, Arthur" Tommy huffed in response, earning a snigger of laughter from both his brothers, who were more than happy to see him take a spectacular fall in his climb for the finer things in life.

" There is...something though, Mr Shelby. Something I could look into. For the right price, that is" the lawyer mused, his greedy fingers perching on the edge of the desk, now summed up on who the man was in front of him, and the depth of his pockets. No matter how tainted they may be. " There is a missing signature on the papers the late Duchess had filed before her death. The Dukes, missing signature. It will take some time to look into the documents' validity, but..."

" Get it done" Tommy interrupted the lawyer, ushering with his hand for him to leave before falling back into his chair with a chesty breath. Arrow House was his, he would make it so. One way or another.

After stewing over the predicament he found himself in for the better part of an hour. Tommy sat silent, weighing out the pros and cons of his next unexpected move as his stare honed in on the bronze statue of a stallion on his deck.

" What the bloody hell is he doing?" John impatiently mumbled to his eldest brother, who he himself was lost on what exactly it was Tommy was waiting for. " Tom, what..." John began to say when the office door flew open, and you came charging through. Your own patience with the head of the Birmingham gang's presence in your home wearing precariously thin.

" Mr Shelby, you've spoken with my lawyer. You know the terms of the deeds. Now I would ask you, kindly, to leave" you huffed crossed armed as you walked through the office collecting any remaining items of value in your arms. Cautiously aware of keeping them away from the three men's reputable light fingers.

" Y/N..." Tommy began as you sauntered past him, throwing the curtains open he had closed to dull the buzzing pain rattling in his skull you had welcomed him with.

" Miss Y/L/N" you were quick to correct him as Tommy ran his fingers down his face. His emerging eyes unable to divert from your swaying hips and flowing dress brushing past his leg, capturing his attention for a second time.

Watching you walk away was now, far more pleasant than having your angry frown storm towards him, Tommy thought to himself, clearing his throat as he looked at the pitiful lack of whisky in the decanter beside him. If you didn't have such a stubborn mouth, he'd be inclined to let your pretty face hang around, his petty ego nagged him. Irritated by the fact, he had lost himself in your beauty and allure in a brief moment of confusion earlier that day.

" Mr Shelby. Please" you gestured to the door as you stood defiantly in front of your father's mahogany desk, watching him brush his thumb over the muzzle of the ornament he had taken a liking for. " Mr Shelby..."

" I'm not going anywhere, love" Tommy finally spoke, looking up at your raging face as he picked up the weighty statue in his hand. " There seems to be a slight error on the deeds, Miss Y/L/N. A missing signature. Your father's signature" Tommy raised a brow as he pointed the ornament in your direction, unable to hide the triumphant smirk behind the smugness sitting on his face as he watched the realisation of your rapidly crumbling plan start to fall apart on your flustered face. "So until the deeds are reviewed..." he paused, turning the bronze horse to look at him. "Looks like you'll have to put up with me"

For the second time that day, you were left speechless by the stranger in front of you. This time, however, with a good dose of irritation spurring it on.

"Like hell I will!" You blurted, without a second thought for just how unladylike your reaction and the following response would look, when you reached over the table grabbing hold of the horse in Tommy's hand, and a childish tug of war ensued between the both of you.

" Fine" you huffed, blowing a lock of hair from In front of your eyes as you let go.

" Good" Tommy replied adjusting his tie as he sheepishly looked over to his smirking brothers, having witnessed the entire, amusing display.

"Keep it. A small souvenir" you pouted, pointing to the ornament gripped in his hand as you turned to leave, pulling a small cushion from under the bum of the youngest gangster as he sent a wink and cheeky dimpled grin your way.

" Enjoy your brief stay, Mr Shelby. And have no doubt. My lawyer will be urgently looking into your claims" you warned, clutching the handle of the door as you watched him rise from behind your father's desk and approach you.

"He already is, love. Paid him a nice sum of money to help speed things up" Tommy said standing uncomfortably close as he looked at you from head to toe, his eyes lingering on your plush lips.

A power unmatched. Money to buy his way through life. Something you knew would be dangerously futile in fighting with your lack of current funds.

" So be it, Mr Shelby" you succumbed to the situation with as much boldness as you could muster as you turned to leave. If you couldn't force him out, you would drive him out. One way or another.

Five days later...

" Good morning, Frances" you cheerfully greeted your housekeeper as you descended down the stairs in your nightie with a hop in your step, a bounce of your hair.

" Good morning, Miss" Frances swallowed heavily as her eyes darted to the grand clock ticking loudly in the corner of the entrance. Five days and counting. Five, obscenely early mornings, you had woken up earlier than the minutest chirp from any bird that had ever lived on the grounds of Arrow House.

" A little Beethoven this morning, perhaps?" you asked, perching yourself on the stool in front of the grand piano you had the staff conveniently move to the foyer. A spot that just so happened to be within close proximity to a certain someone's bedroom. " Any suggestions?"

"Fur Elise is a lovely piece, Miss. And you play it so well" Frances encouraged the mellow tune as her eyes darted to the top of the stairs, wary of the sleeping occupant only a stone throw away.

" It is. But I feel something a little more...rambunctious is needed to start the day. "Don't you think?" you smiled, turning the page to Symphony no5 as an amused smirk played on the corner of your lips whilst your hands hovered teasingly over the ivory keys, and you began to play. Loudly.

As the sound of your enthusiastic musical skills reverberated through the walls of Arrow House, a grunting Tommy stirred in his bed at the unwelcome shrill of the piano below him.

"Fuck sake..." Tommy mumbled incoherently, awakening from a deep sleep as he rolled from his stomach to his back. His eyes slowly opening, his ears tuning in. "Shut the...!" He grumbled, shouting the rest of his less than gentlemanly choice of words through the pillow he had grabbed to muffle the early wake-up call as he regained full consciousness. "FUCKKKK!" He roared from the pits of his lungs, when your continued playing only increased his irritation to a heightened, heavenly high.

Looking up at the landing stairs, a satisfied smirk grew on your face, hearing the beautiful barrage of curses from the unwelcome squatter in your home for the fifth day in a row as your fingers glided over the cool ivory.

Throwing the covers from him, Tommy grabbed his gun from the cabinet side table as he scrambled for his trousers, pulling them up as he stomped to the door.

" Seems Mr Shelby's awake, Frances" you spoke above the piano, as your loyal housekeeper nervously smiled to you, nodding her head. Readying herself for the fury of a thoroughly pissed off Tommy heading your way as his booming strides beckoned closer.

Encouraged by the sound of Tommy's door slamming shut, you continued your endeavour. Unbeknownst, that Tommy's hunched shoulders were looming over the banister. Gun in hand as he positioned his arm on the metal railing, aiming the end of the barrel directly at the woman whose sole purpose in life was to wake him up every morning with an insufferable racket.

"Don't move, darling" Tommy teasingly whispered as his eyes narrowed in, his breath steadying whilst he watched your fingers dance along the keys as he adjusted his shot.

As the sight of your lonely digit lingered over the next key, Tommy squeezed the trigger, shooting off the finishing note before you had the chance to give your triumphant end.

Leaping from the smoky crater now forever embedded in your grand piano, your eyes shot up to see your unwelcome roommate looking down at you with a cocky smirk as he shoved his gun against the naked skin between the waistband of his trousers.

" Morning, love"

NEXT PART

Tag list: @weaponizedvirtue @un-interneted @mama-ivy @kmc1989 @leighla3

@emotionalcadaver @mamawiggers1980 @sweetcheesecakesblog @cljordan-imperium @peakyswritings

[p484]

Grandma Leech

[guckies]

GANGSTER GRANNY STRIKES!!

[ca-dmv-bot]

Customer: granny cougar DMV: G=gangster Verdict: DENIED

[beah388love]

A shootout

18+ Minors DNI!!!

Full Masterlist Legend Masterlist

Pairing: Reggie Kray x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ron and Reg have a gangster ‘meet up’ but Ron gets a bit hungry after…

Warnings:Blood,cuts,injuries,hammers,weapons,swearing,bad language,guns,bats,bruises!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)

"Right boy's now i believe we have some business to do?" I said as i lit up my cigarette. "Yeah that's right Reg. Mike Jobber want's to see you and Ron down at their pub" Albie told me. "Oh is that so?

Well, looks like i'm gonna have to get my brother then don't it?" I laughed and then left to go and get Ronnie.

"Ron! Ron come on mate, we've got business that needs seeing to down at the Richardson's pub!" I shouted into his caravan. "Alright alright i'm coming" He shouted. A few minutes later the caravan door opened and out came Ronnie. "Lets get this over and done with" He smirked as he made his way over to us and got into the back of the car.

We arrived at the pub and walked in."

"Reg, Ron, the Richardson's was unexpectedly engaged so we're gonna look after you" Jobber said with a smirk on his face. "Ah its alright, um, landlords gone down to change the barrel for us. Ya don't mind if i pour myself a pint do ya?" I said. "What is that?" Ron questioned, looking down at one of the other guys hands. " What do ya think, poof? It's a fucking tool" He laughed. "No it's not, it's a fucking rolling pin. Who are you? Barry Kradick? What ya gonna do with that? Ya gonna bake me a cake?

Gonna sing me a song. watch me blow out me fucking candles?" Ron said as he held up both of his guns that was still in the pockets of his jacket. "I come here for a fucking shootout, right? A proper shootout with some proper men. Reg, this lot are fucking nonce's to a man. They're fucking nonce's.

Get out my fucking way, go on get out, go on, fuck off. Call yourself a fucking gangster? A shootout right is a fucking shootout! Wankers! Fucking embarrassing! Waste of my time! Fucking waste of my time!" Ron shouted as he walked out the pub doors. "Your brother's done a runner" Jobber smirked at me. "Nahh, he is just genuinely disappointed with ya that's all" I said as i looked at my pint of Guinness. " Charlie Richardson said we're to knock the granny out of you Reg" Jobber again, smirked at me. "Oh yeah he did, did he?

That's good of him. Right, listen. When you see him next, you tell him from me yeah, that I say fuck charlie, right? Fuck his brother yeah? Fuck that fat George Cornell that hangs out with him. Fuck your face yeah, yeah? And fuck the fucking lot of ya as well. What d'ya think of that? D'you like that?" I laughed at him. He nodded in reply. "Now you wont mind if i fight back will ya?" I smirked at Jobber. "What, d'ya think you could manage it?"

He laughed. "Just a warning, i ain't gonna fight fair though. So i brought these. Alright?" I showed him the knuckle dusters on both my hands. "Now before we start, i got a little joke for ya, you'll love this one. Paranoid schizophrenic who walks into a bar" I smirked as i saw Ron smash a hammer over the back of one of boy's heads. This was going to be eventful.

———

"Ah! Fucking poofs" Ron breathed out as reg went to go drink his beer.

"Oi Reg! Is Y/n busy?" Ron asked reg and reg shook his head "don't fink so".

"Can she make me a fry up?" Ronnie asked reg and reg nodded.

"I can ask her but it might take a little while" reg said and ron nodded.

"I don't care how long it takes reg! She makes the best hash browns, oh and her bacon is so good and her eggs she does it perfect every time.." ron couldn't stop talking about it all the way back to Y/ns flat.

Once they got to your flat they knocked at the door and you looked through the peep hole before opening the door.

"Hey boys, that better not be your bloo- Reg!" You gasped when you saw Reggie's blood stained face that was caused by a definite punch to the nose and Ron's bloody mouth.

"Y/n? Can you make me a fry up please?" Ron asked you pleadingly and you nodded quickly but you helped them get cleaned up first.

"Can you do hash browns bee?" Ron asked you and you nodded.

"I'll see what we've got in a minute ron" you smiled before grabbing a cold wet towel and cleaning up Reggie's face.

"You better have gotten them better than they got you" you said as you gently wiped his nose that was definitely gonna bruise.

"I can say we did dove" he smiled as he kept looking at you dreamily as you Carried on wiping his bloody face.

"Can I have three hash browns,three sausages, one poached egg and a couple pieces of bacons please?" Ron asked you whilst you cleaned up reg.

"Mhm, yes you can Ron, would you like ketchup with it?" You asked him and he replied with a small yes.

"Ron?" Reg coughed as he gave Ron a stare and Ron thought for a moment as to what reg meant by it.

"Oh sorry, thank you Y/n" Ron said and you couldn't help but smile.

"It's alright Ron, right Reggie can you clean Ron up whilst I make some food?" You asked and he nodded before walking over to Ron.

"Reg? What are you Havin?" You asked quite loudly so he could hear you.

"I'll just have the same as Ron lovely" he replied.

"Okay" you replied back.

———

"Okay Ron here's yours, and reg here's yours" you said as you placed the full plates down and they both said thank you.

"It's alright" you smiled before sitting down and eating yours.

Ron shut his eyes as he ate his food and he kept humming exaggerated hums that made you smile.

"Is it good?" You asked smiling and Ron nodded along with reg.

"It's amazing dove thank you" reg said which made you blush.

"Your welcome Reggie" you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking off to the living room to carry on doing a word search book you had.

[evita-shelby]

The First Date

or I created the Frecheville-verse and now Eva's in The Royal Hotel

Eva x Teeth(James Frecheville, the Royal Hotel)

I am deliberately ignoring the movie for this, all the lore is my own invention.

Eva Smith is my oc, but most of y'all already know that

Cw: mentions of sexism, sexual harrasment, illegal gun owning, sex, drinking? I think that's all

for @violaobanion

The best decision Eva has made this year --by far-- has been buying a handgun.

In her desperation to escape the fallout of her disastrous affair with a Sicilian Mafioso in New York and a married Romani gangster in England, Eva had gone and asked for a job in the ass crack of nowhere instead of leaving Australia.

The Royal Hotel is as ironic in its name as you can imagine.

And sure, most of the men here are pigs and she’s stuck here with shit pay and no way out of here, but it gives her the one thing she’s wanted all her life.

Anonymity.

She is just Eva, the hot foreign girl no one has a real chance at. She is a mystery they don’t care to solve as long as they can leer at her, and they won’t try a thing after she threatened Dolly with her gun.

Granted no one knows the gun is illegally owned save for her and Billy and Carol, so it works like a charm.

But the witch’s come to know she needs more than a gun to keep these assholes at bay, especially now that the English Girls have made enough cash to get the fuck out of here.

Teeth with his clumsy ways ---and who has never needed her to casually threaten him to stop--- and reputation for scrapping with the others over anything, is the perfect candidate. Sure, Matty was quite the looker with aspirations and that, but Teeth had this strange obsessiveness that would put a man in the hospital for looking at her the wrong way.

Eva needs that just as badly as she needs the crumbling old house his granny left him as her new address.

“Do you reckon...?” the burly ginger-bearded man begins thinking he’ll be rejected only for Eva to tease him over his awkwardness.

“Out with it, Teeth, or I’ll drink your beer myself.” She likes teasing him, he’s always here and relatively good company.

The locals make him the butt of their jokes here, he is not a smooth talker and there is that sort of pity he gets from Billy who always gives him his first beer of the night for free. The English Girls barely give him the time of day, but Eva’s developed a bit of a soft spot for him.

The Mexican woman has been teasing him for a while, flirted openly, showing obvious favoritism towards him to push him into finally making a move. Everyone else had gotten the memo except him.

Glenda had been sufficiently occupied with the task of getting him to finally say the damn words, she’s no longer asking Eva to take a page from her coworkers and roommates to get better tips. A blessed reprieve the younger woman will always be thankful for.

“Um,” he begins again feeling a bit more confident, especially after Glenda eggs him on. “Do you reckon I could, like, take ya out somewhere sometime, like a date and that?”

“About time you asked me, big guy.” The dark-haired woman gave him his beer with a wink, and you’d think she’d given him the winning numbers of the lotto by the looks of it.

The date wasn’t as bad as she thought, while unoriginal and a way to get into bed with each other, it went better than expected.

Teeth cleaned up very well, opened the door and pulled out her chair when they went out for dinner in the neighboring town. Even cleaned his truck for the special occasion.

She’s worn a dress that shows her off well enough without screaming puta, and while the Mexican woman has had to be very obvious about her intentions to climb him like a tree, it had the ending she desperately needed it to have.

A few drinks in and both inhibited enough to barely make it past the front door. Teeth had picked her up like nothing and made all that waiting worth every second of it. He even went down on her and ate her out like a champ.

For a guy reeking of that Nice Guy vibe, he knows how to give a girl a great time.

“You’re mine, Evie. No one else gets to have you but me, ‘cause you’re my property now.” Teeth punctuated his words with a love bite the witch won’t be able to hide. Not that she wants to, as archaic and red flaggy his possessiveness was, it served its purpose.

“Mmm, is that why they call you Teeth? Because you like biting your women?” Eva returned fire and made sure to claim him in like. He may think he’s got the upper hand here, but Eva never doesn’t anything she doesn’t want to do.

The burly man with newfound confidence lies straight to her face about the origin of his nickname. Having met every single of his coworkers, friends, and the other locals at the pub, Eva knows it’s because he had braces when he started working in the mines straight out of school.

Still, it’s been the best night she’s had since she got here and even with his alarm going off at the ass crack of dawn, Eva would absolutely do it again and leaves the sexy lacey panties she’d worn hanging onto the gear shift while he refueled his truck as a clear invitation for a second date.

[aeroblossom]

to me, rhinedottir looks like a 45 year old woman with once well kept hair now frizzy and unkempt, deep eyebags, chemical burnt or abyss-affected hands, starred eyes with no light left in them, smoking a hookah, reclining on her sofa on one elbow

that or you could never guess she's a mother of seventeen and grandmother to hundreds because she looks like she's twenty years old with the most perfect everything about her. perfect hair, perfect dress, way of walking is perfect too, extremely particular about the next crime against the divine she wants to commit. sigewinne has singlehandedly the most gorgeous yet gangster granny in the history of teyvat

[ecargmura]

Wind Breaker Episode 2 Review - Welcome To Fuurin High

With an action-packed premiere, the second episode is more of a slower paced one as it helps Sakura and the viewers be introduced to the town and Furin High School with the help of newly introduced Akihiko Nirei who isn’t much of a fighter but more of an information broker in a way. Will Sakura be able to fit into the town and the school?

Sakura still isn’t used to the friendliness of the town as he gets used as a horse by a granny and the other townsfolk give him presents as thanks for protecting the town yesterday. Sakura does take all of their gifts as he’s a sucker for compliments but he then loses them when a girl comes up to him for help. The post-credit skit reveals that he actually picked them back up and ate them. He’s a good boy at heart.

When he stops by Cafe Porthos, which is Kotoha’s cafe and the cafe the granny he was helping out wanted to go, Kotoha gives him breakfast, which is a fancy egg sandwich with fruits and this is where he meets Nirei, who barges in with a fancy shirt underneath his uniform and starts being a bit nosy as he asks Sakura if his white hair comes from stress. I was laughing when he mentioned that.

My impression of Nirei is that he’s definitely going to be the brain to Sakura’s brawn, but  with a unique twist that both of them share a braincell. I do like that he’s practically Sakura’s guide to the town and that he’s a huge klutz as he’s always tripping and colliding into something. I feel you, Nirei. I collide into things all the time. While he’s a motor mouth, I find Nirei cute! He’s not as cute as Sakura, but he has his moments! I do like that while he sucks at fighting, he still has guts to protect someone from gangsters. I just hope he won’t be a liability going forth. The last thing we need is the constant distressed person for Sakura to save.

Nirei’s voice actor is Shoya Chiba. I’ve seen his name pop up in different animes. I’m most familiar with his role as Sing Su Ling from Banana Fish and he was also in Blue Lock as Imamura. I do like that the anime does cast well-known names and rising stars to bring in their fans and get fans of the original source hyped up for a splendid voice cast.

Fuurin High School is quite a wacky school. The students in Sakura class are also very interesting. One standout face is a rather beautiful boy with an eyepatch and tassel earrings named Hayato Suo. He teases Sakura by introducing himself as Leonardo Dicaprio. The fact that Sakura falls for it and believes he’s from overseas before Suo corrects himself was hilarious. He’s surprisingly a jokester, which actually makes him a lot harder to read. Is he hiding something? He’s definitely that one character who is flighty but has a sad past.

His voice actor is Nobunaga Shimazaki. I really like Shimazaki’s voice and he shows off his range from voicing the lethargic Nagi from Blue Lock to flighty Suo. I feel like Shimazaki isn’t particularly typecasted because he has versatility. Like, you both expect and not expect him to voice a character like Suo? Like when you listen to it, it just fits? The fact that Yuma Uchida and Nobunaga Shimazaki reunite here is both amusing and cool! They were Nagi and Reo in Blue Lock and Kyo and Yuki in Fruits Basket!

The last standout character is Kyotaro Sugishita who makes his presence known to Sakura by throwing a desk at him. Talk about making an entrance. He’s someone who really respects Umemiya, the top person of the school and doesn’t abide to anyone who speaks ill of him. This is why he picks a fight with Sakura. He’s tall, but hunches. His scowl and long black hair helps him stand out.

His voice actor is Kouki Uchiyama and it surprisingly fits. He’s got the trademark moody and emo vibes Ucchi characters are known for. I just need to listen to it more because he only shows up towards the end of the episode.

I honestly can’t wait to see what sort of story Wind Breaker will be about and how Sakura will become the top of the school. I also can’t wait to see what sort of friend group he’ll have as it’s necessary for a shounen MC to have one! I’ll be tuning in next week to see more. What are your thoughts on this episode?

[slimesam]

any hc for what notable achievements gave Jichang Kwak such a big reputation?

Uhuh. After that recent Chap. All I gonna say is RIP Jichang. The one and only that look like Nanami from jujitsu kaisen and also have the fate of Nanami

So the head cannon if notable achievement of the dilf Jichang Kwak

Achievement of Jichang Kwak Headcannon

He definitely have alot of Granny or Grandpa that offer to introduce thier grandchildren to him

I meaning he is good looking, strong and dedicated to work. All elders in the town would like him as thier grand son in law.

Got alot of fan in the work field

Loved by all grannies and gramps

I definitely see him receiving alot of farm good from the elder as a sign of thanking

He basically does the heavy lifting when helping around

Especially around the farm land

And he also made those young gangster behaves

One time there is a small timer gang that terror and be nuisance to all parents and elderly

Jichang basically goes that area and beat the teenager ass like nothing

You can say those guys just become a well behaved children

All of Townies praises Jichang for making the village peaceful once more

One month later after that incident

The teenage gang bowing at Jichang and greet him as the "boss"

And those teenager help around the farmland, elderly and defend the town from the outsiders.

He have free bento boxes or lunch when visiting small restaurants as a thanks from the parents or shop owners.

Jibeom try to have a drinking contest as Jichang being a cop he reject that invitation and also jibeom is still minor

But elder say just go on with it and take a break

So the contest ensues

Jichang winning the contest, he is at the outside of the building smoking looking out his junior Jibeom who is puking his guts.

Then Jihan came and wanting to join the gang

When Jihan officially joined Jichang and Jibeom brought him to the bathhouse just to strengthen thier bonds

Let just say Jihan and Jibeom being a rascals, they ending up wrestling in the water which resulting them getting hit on the head

Jichang is known as the person who hate chaostic bath.

Huh? What about thier reaction each other dong??

You can just say they are above average probably at Samuel and Eli level. Thier reaction just fine no extreme surprise or anything

Jichang have past relationships during his time as the Seoul King but now

He is dedicated in helping elder plan

I would imagine he would unofficial relationship in the village but didn't continue as he worry that he will die from the risky plan.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Seven (Part 2)

We park our car on the gravel outside my Granny’s old farmhouse, the place lit up with strings of lights, a little plastic wreath on the door with holly and cracked, peeling silicone berries on it. It’s the same wreath she’d had forever, and the sight of it is comforting and familiar, even if it is incredibly ugly. She opens the door to us and brings us inside her warm home, which is a welcome relief from the biting cold wind outside. Both the central heating and the living room fire blasting as hot as they can go, and as we peel off our coats I already feel better, the smell of cooking wafting out into the hall from her little kitchen.

“Hello mammy.” My dad says with a kiss on her powdery cheek. “Happy Christmas, how’s things?”

“Ah sure you know yourself. Here I am.” She says.

“Something smells good.”

“Bit of turkey and ham, as per usual.” 

“Ah, lovely.” He says over his shoulder as he makes his way into the living room with our bags of presents. “And the roasties too, I hope.”

“Anything for my youngest.” She says, and then throws her eyes to heaven for the benefit of my mother as if to say “Don’t we suffer for our boys?” 

The house is busy as it always is on Christmas. We’re the last to arrive, so my uncle Sean and my cousins are already there, the three of them, big broad men with variations of the exact same face all sitting in the living room with some gangster film on. They all look up when we come in but they don’t get up to greet us, the film obviously too engrossing, but they do turn their heads and shout out some discordant hellos, Uncle Sean reaching over the back of the sofa to take my hand. 

“You’re after getting big.” He says to me with a firm squeeze.

“Am I?”

“You don’t need to bring attention to it, Dad.” My cousin Conor smirks. “Sure all first years throw on a few kilos in the first few months.”

“Stop it.” Uncle Sean whips his youngest son in the leg with the rolled up TV guide as Conor laughs at his own joke. 

“Best wishes to you too, Conor.” I roll my eyes, and he shakes his head apologetically, reaching out his hand to me, but still not getting up from his chair so I have to walk across the room to shake it. 

“I’m messing, obviously.” He tells me, crushing my finger bones in his hand the way that men do with each other. “But you might actually be waddling out of here later after having the feast Granny’s after cooking up for us.”

“I can’t wait for it.” I say, and it’s true. I can’t wait. I never eat breakfast on Christmas day purely because I want to leave room for whatever delights Granny Kilbride has cooked up for us, and now even the smells wafting from the kitchen across the hall are making my mouth water and my stomach growl noisily.

“C’mere.” Decky, my other cousin says to me, and I turn around to him on the sofa next to his dad, and hold out my hand to him, but he shakes his head. “You have to give me a proper hug, none of this handshake nonsense.” He stands up and embraces me so tightly that I fear he will break a couple of ribs. 

Declan, or Decky as he’s affectionately known, is my favourite cousin. He’s the older, cooler one, who used to dangle me over the stair bannisters when I was an infant because The Lion King had just come out in the cinemas, and well, monkey see monkey do. He’s the first and most beloved grandchild, eight years my senior at twenty six years old now, and working in construction, and an out and out rascal of a man. There are none more quintessentially Irish than Decky Kilbride, from the top of his short-back-and-sides head to his steel toed boots. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t know what almond milk is and eats his lunch in a petrol station deli in CAT cargo trousers and a high-vis jacket, and yet, somehow, despite me being everything that he isn’t, we have always got along with one another to an astounding degree. 

“Your hair’s gone short.” He comments, and I touch it self consciously. It’s almost at my collarbones now, but still makes me feel awkward and ugly, and I wish it would just grow back to the way it used to be. 

“Thanks.” I say to him, “But I dunno if I like it.”

“It fits in with your new arty look though.”

“I have an arty look?”

“Yeah, sure, aren’t you up in art college, like?” 

“Well, yes but-”

My mam comes to the living room door and calls for me. “Evie, love, will you help with the vegetables?” 

“Yeah, okay.” I sigh.

“All the women, off to do the cooking.” Conor comments, and as I leave the room I look back on the sight; four big men lounging around watching TV, leisurely plucking wrapped sweets from the tub on the coffee table while their wives, daughters and sisters slave away in the kitchen. It’s the way that it’s always been, and yet now is the first time I feel I’ve really seen it, but I don’t protest, I just go with my mother.

“Evie!” There’s a chorus of delighted, or maybe relieved voices as I hop down the steps into the steaming belly of the chaos in the kitchen. It’s such a small space that even with just four women in it it seems crammed to the gills. 

The windows are fogged up with steam, and copper pots on the aga rattle and bubble, boiling potatoes and puddings and stewed fruit, every ring on the thing taken up with something. Peel litters the tile and everything else, the doors of the cupboards and the fridge and the doors of the aga is dripping with condensation that even the roaring extractor fan can’t draw out of the room. 

“Oh, you’re very busy in here.” I comment as I squeeze into the centre of the turmoil. The room is so hot that I instantly feel sweat on my brow under my new fringe. Granny hands me a vegetable peeler and directs me to a sliver of counter space where a heaping bag of carrots lies in wait.

“Off you go over there.” She tells me. “Peel and slice them into batons.” I go over and start pulling them out of the plastic, next to my aunt Catriona who is furiously dumping bits of food waste into a huge black plastic bin bag. 

“Well.” She says to me in a hassled greeting. “You’re looking lovely.”

“Thank you.” I say, taking a knife from the counter and chopping the long green stems off the head of two carrots at once. She swipes them off the chopping board straight away and has them in the bag. “Is this what it’s like on Hell’s Kitchen?” I say.

She blows air upwards to her forehead to get stray pieces of her greying hair away from her face. “It’s worse than that in here I’d say. Gordon Ramsey has nothing on my mother, God bless her.” She turns around to grab a sweeping brush from the scullery and I go back to chopping and peeling the carrots. 

“Hello sweetheart.” comes Fabiana’s soft voice as she rinses a handful of fresh thyme from the garden in the sink next to me. 

“How are you doing?”

“Very stressed.” She says, and then leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Can I help?”

Her thumbs massage the dirt out of the roots of the thyme thoughtfully and she waits a moment before admitting: “I don’t know what bread sauce is.” 

“Did you ask granny?”

“Yes.” She says in a low voice. “But I didn’t understand what she was saying, and I don’t want to ask again. She is very…” She looks at me with wide eyes, hands moving in circles as she tries to find the word. “…Tense.” 

I smile. “I’ll help you, just give me a minute.” 

Fabiana is Uncle Sean’s new girlfriend. He met her on a trip to Venezuela, and she got pregnant, so here she is. She’s only a few years older than Decky and is so sweet and obliging that everyone just kind of pretends that the situation isn’t extremely weird. She still has a hard time understanding everybody’s thick, midlands accents. I imagine it’s even worse in this kitchen with all of these shrill voices speaking over one another, all of these new things to try and grasp, and I feel for her. 

So I abandon my carrots and go into the scullery to find the battered cookbook with the recipe in it. I take it off the shelf, its spine missing and all of the pages stained and sticking together, and flip it open onto the bread sauce page. 

“Here.” I say, showing it to Fabiana who is hovering beside me. “You need milk, butter, onion, cloves, pepper…” I look at her and she’s nodding, anxiously holding her expectant belly. “…garlic, bay, breadcrumbs, cream and nutmeg.”

“It sounds disgusting.”

“I know, you don’t have to have it.”

“I won’t.” She leans against the counter and wipes a hand across her brow. “I wish I wasn’t so pregnant.” She says. “Or I would be drinking a lot now.”

I giggle. “I know how you feel. And the men get to do nothing.”

“Yes! So lazy. They just eat chocolates and drink whiskey.”

“Not fair.”

Fabiana reaches into the wine rack behind me and slides an old bottle out, holding it up to me like a waiter at a fancy restaurant. “I can’t drink, but you can.”

“This is sherry.” I tell her. “We use it to cook.”

“Come on, have a little bit.” She says with a glint in her eye that makes me wonder if she was a party girl back in Caracas. She cracks open the lid and starts looking around her for a vessel, and the way she’s acting makes me laugh, like she’s a cheeky child looking for new ways to misbehave. 

“You’re really going to drink vicariously through me?” I inquire, and she nods as she places an old Simpsons glass down in front of me and pours a generous serving. I drink it, and it’s not very nice, but the situation tickles me so much that I don’t mind. 

She holds up her fist and bumps it against my glass. “Salud.” Sighing, she leans back against the counter again and regards me with a curious, tilted head. “You live in Dublin city?” and I nod. 

“Yeah, for the last few months I’ve been there in college.”

“Is it fun?”

“It’s alright yeah, there’s a lot more to do than here.” I immediately feel guilty saying that to her, and follow it up quickly with: “But like, it’s boring too sometimes. Everywhere in Ireland is kind of boring.”

“But I bet there’s lots of fun clubs and bars.” She says wistfully. “Do you go out on the town? Do you party a lot?”

“Yeah.” I admit. “I go out at least once a week, there’s actually a pretty cool scene if you’re into the party lifestyle. There’s really interesting places to go, like nightclubs in unexpected venues and things like that.”

She sighs, “it sounds really good.” and then I start feeling really bad for her. What must it be like for her to be spending Christmas in rural Offaly in the middle of a typical, dreary winter, heavily pregnant, unfamiliar with everything. I wonder if she often feels lonely, or what she does in her free time while she’s alone in Sean’s house. At times like this does she wish she was back with her family in Venezuela? 

“Are you drinking in here?” A stern voice, and we both snap around to see my mam at the door of the scullery, decidedly unimpressed with her hands on her hips and gravy stains on her apron. I immediately pour the rest of the sherry into the Belfast sink, because the look in her eyes is deadly.

“Those carrots are still sitting there waiting to be prepared.” She says to me, “And my mother is still waiting on that bread sauce.”

“Sorry.” I say. “We were just chatting.”

“Well dinner is to be on the table at three o’clock.”

“Right mam.”

“So get on it.” Her eyes shoot from me to Fabiana and then back again. “Now.” We bounce to attention and scurry back into the kitchen. 

Prev // Next

[apompkwrites]

Aster Anon incoming with more octopoly headcanons and general thoughts. Angst time :P Aster going to school at Royal Sword Academy and hearing from Little Leech, Little Ashen overblotted. Little Leech being incredibly guilty for not seeing the signs or being a big enough comfort to them during the process of it, and Aster not being there at the same school and not being able to come see Little Ashen due to the school differences making them feel undeniably guilt that overtakes his entire being. So what do they do? Ensure Ashen isn't struggling anymore and Aster sends notes every week checking in on Ashen while Little Leech takes Ashen out and makes flower bouquets with them. AND!!! I'D LIKE TO EXTEND ON THE FELMIER IDEA. Older siblings to the First years  👀

Older!Trappola, who goes trick-or-treating with Ace and Oldest brother Trappola around the block, Older!Trappola who isn't good at card tricks but teaches Ace how to win card games behind their families back, Older!Trappola who thinks they need to lean Ace in the right direction or else their a failure of a sibling, Older!Trappola who fully believes they'll never be as great as Older Brother Trappola, Older!Trappola who believes their the lacking one in the family, and Older!Trappola who Ace looks up to but doesnt know it. Older!Trappola who thinks his bluntness will get him killed by Riddle someday

Older!Spade who thinks they failed as an older sibling while Deuce was in his gangster era, Older!Spade who would have to take care of their mother and grandma while Deuce was off doing who knows what, Older!Spade who would argue with Deuce over whats right, Older!Spade who knows Deuce didn't change his ways for them (even though its wrong and Deuce really wants to make them proud now), Older!Spade who's someone Deuce looks up too, but really is on the verge of losing their head. Older!Spade who thinks Ace is a bad influence but still finds them a cute duo

Older!Howl who is tired of taking care of everyone, Older!Howl who is needed to take care of Jack, and their two younger siblings when their parents aren't available. Older!Howl who is always leaning to their siblings wishes because they love them, Older!Howl who can't take all their responsibilities anymore. Older!Howl who their younger bro Jack only wants to help but won't accept it because they don't want to seem unreliable. Older!Howl who argues (playfully) with Leona over Jack (Based on the pre-written ideas)

Older!Felmier who enjoys cutesy things and softer stuff but doesn't want Epel to not like them so they pretend to enjoy more masculine stuff to impress Epel, and only ends up on leaning more to toxic masculinity themes. Older!Felmier who despite a stronger build for picking apples day and night still enjoys the cuter aspects of the outdoors, Older!Felmier who would cook apple pie for Epel and teach him all different types of recipes, Older!Felmier , who loves their granny and always helps her with things around the house like a house-partner, Older!Felmier who only wants their younger sibling to look up to them Older!Felmier who only wishes Vil picked them instead

Older!Zigvolt who hates everything about themselves and is disappointed in their birth. Older!Zigvolt who is only a human with only a cup of fae in their blood. Older!Zigvolt who Sebek is disappointed in calling a sibling and wants nearly to no nothing to do with, Older!Zigvolt who only wants to fit in with their family by carrying more fae, Older!Zigvolt who takes care of their younger siblings and father/mother to ensure they are useful despite being only human. Older!Zigvolt who admires Malleus, yet yearns to get that much admiration from their younger brother

hnMGHSJDFK OKAY OKAY

imagine aster pushing his pride away for a single moment to beg che'nya to help him sneak into NRC so that he can be with leech and ashen, even if just for a moment :(

hnnnn and all he can think about is how he wasn't there for his beloveds enough and he needs to do better to make sure this doesn't happen again :((

and older sibling black sheep :OO

trappola!(name) who lives in the shadow of big brother trappola, but not purposely. it's just their big brother is so cool and they're... there. they want to be that for ace ever since they held him in their arms but they just don't think they'll ever amount to big brother trappola :((

but ace looks up to them too! it's just he doesn't admit it to their face :)

spade!(name) who feels so guilty because, in their mind, they didn't do as good of a job as they could have to be a better influence on deuce :( they take time to take care of their family because they want to keep some semblance of a healthy relationship.

and when they get older, they begin to distance themselves because maybe, just maybe, being around deuce is what was causing his delinquent era.

howl!(name) who has lived their whole life dedicating themselves to their siblings that they view themselves as nothing more than aa vessel for them to succeed. deep down, they want to take a break and be a kid for once. but they won't let themselves do that.

and howl!(name) who is so resistant to help that even when jack is old enough to help them, they take all of the heavy work because that's all they feel like they are worth.

felmier!(name) who loves loves loves their feminine side, but only in private. they would never be caught dead doing what they love because all they want is to be that role model for epel. they want to get along with him and grow up with him because they have plenty of friends who don't have that.

and felmier!(name) who, despite being related to him, was not chosen by vil. felmier!(name) who loves their baby brother but absolutely despises how he gets to live out their dream.

zigvolt!(name) who is more human than fae and learns the hard way that sebek despises them for it. they watch as their family remains unchanged while they sob and sob into their pillow after they notice a few more gray hairs than usual. zigvolt!(name) who will do anything they can to do their family name proud, even if they need to find a workaround.

and zigvolt!(name) who clutches onto the idea that they can have a real relationship with their brother because if they don't, they would have to face the reality that they would die and he would keep going for years to come.

<33

[the-casbah-way]

only real ones grew up with this shit. everybody gangster until granny whaps out a loaf of this with the marmalade

[itsuki-minamy]

K - ONE YEAR LATER

CHAPTER 11: REISI MUNAKATA'S RETURN (BY TATSUKI MIYAZAWA)

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

A year has passed since then.

"Granny, I brought him!"

When David, the third youngest of her seventeen grandchildren, roared through the front door, Mariana Campos Moreno was dozing in an Equipalace chair woven from orchid fiber and upholstered in tanned pigskin.

She fell asleep in the soft breeze that came through the arched windows.

Beyond that, she could see a courtyard filled with blooming marigolds. It was a flower that her deceased husband loved so much, and even now that her limbs have become useless, Mariana takes care of it herself, not her daughters.

For a moment, Mariana thought with a confused head after waking up.

(Oh, yes. Didn't David say he would bring a lifeguard?)

David Moreno was a headache not only for Mariana, but for his entire family. Even after graduating from school, he was dizzy, and on top of that, he started associating with the young gangsters who ruled that city.

Mariana warned them that he wouldn't get better, but as expected, a larger drug cartel took notice of him, kidnapped her and her friends and nearly executed them.

He looks like he was saved by a single man in the middle of it.

To be honest, it was a shameful story, but David was actually alive, and that was the reason why he cut ties with the gangs. It is said that the benefactor had business with Mariana.

In that case, she should at least make use of her modest special ability.

"Here. I'm here!"

In response to David's youthful voice, the rasp in her voice made her smile wryly. It may not be long before "Day of the Dead" turns from mourning to bereavement.

Hearing that voice, David entered the small room where Mariana was.

"Grandma! Look, he's the "customer" you were talking about."

Mariana narrowed her eyes.

In contrast to the exterior, which shone pure white in the reflected sun, the interior was gloomy, and everything was covered in gray shadows.

"Sorry. My eyesight is bad these days."

All she knew was that a tall man was standing behind David.

"Hello. It's an honor to meet you, Madam."

The man said in fluent Spanish. Mariana was silent for a while.

"What's up, Granny?"

David said anxiously. Mariana stared at the man, then...

"First of all, let me thank you for helping my grandson. Thank you very much."

At her thanks, the man shook his head at her.

"It was a total turnaround. Not something to be thankful for."

It was an elegant and calm voice.

"I heard from David that you are the best tarot reader in Chiapas."

"Yes, I think I'm in the top three even in Mexico. I've told the fortune of a member of parliament, a soccer superstar, and an international actress. It seems you're looking for something."

"Yes.", said the man.

"I'm looking for 'myself' for a while."

Mariana closed her eyes and smiled.

"Oh."

She just rejected him.

"Such "extraordinarily big thing" is not for me, I can't predict it."

David rolled his eyes.

"Wait! Granny."

"I see. It's a shame."

She could tell by his distant way of speaking. Perhaps David, who wanted to have a relationship with the man, even a little, kind of forced him to come here. The man himself perhaps had not the slightest obsession with divination.

Mariana said.

"Also, I'm really sorry, but when I'm around a ridiculously big man like you, my remaining senses go haywire. I'm sorry, but could you go?"

She said it bluntly. The man showed a funny smile without getting angry at all.

"Haha, sorry about this. Have a nice evening, Madam."

He bowed politely and left the room. At the same time, David angrily approached his grandmother.

"That's terrible, Granny! Even though that person saved my life! Even though it's the first time I've met someone I can respect!"

Then Mariana yelled at her poor grandson.

"You, idiot! You will follow that person until you finish paying them for helping you. You'll never let him out of your sight. Here you go! Let's go!"

David's eyes sparkled. It was the first time that his life had meaning.

He turned and chased after the man, yelling loudly.

"Wait!"

She heard footsteps going away.

"Wait, Sir! Mr. Reisi Munakata!"

Mariana leaned back in the chair. The moment she saw his face, she knew.

"That man was a person with a "fate"."

In response to Slate's call, he became the "King".

He clearly realized who he was.

But now...

The Slate was also lost.

What is his current self?

Who is he?

Where should he go if he is not a "King"?

"I..."

Reisi Munakata wondered, and kept wondering.

At first, he toured the country. He gazed at the twinkling stars on the farthest island, he sat meditating in an ancient temple built in a surprisingly difficult place, he strolled through the dazzling neon streets and slept soundly in the total darkness of the virgin forest.

He met, he broke up, fought and saved many people. Reisi Munakata was just Reisi Munakata and he remained Reisi Munakata, but as a result, many people appeared who were impressed with him, who felt indebted to him, who took aim at his life, and who had love and hate for him.

A promising manager who had a heated argument with him about the future of the world temporarily entrusted the company to his subordinates and followed Munakata.

When a wandering genius violinist looked at Munakata, he came up with a tune, so he accompanied him.

Trying to kill Munakata, an assassin walked behind him trying to find an opening.

Munakata did not reject any of them.

Eventually, the Munakata pilgrimage left that country and spread out to sea.

China, Vietnam, Iran, France, England, the United States and Mexico.

Reisi Munakata continued his journey as the wind blew and his feet followed.

And he continued to be Reisi Munakata in all parts of the world. As a result, nearly 100 men and women of all ages followed Munakata.

A martial artist whose dreams had been shattered. An old man wobbling on his legs. A college student who wanted to become a photographer. There was even a former gangster. A chef who made exceptionally delicious Chinese food. Also rich people and poor people.

Their race, age, and gender were all different, but they all had one thing in common: they possessed some kind of supernatural power.

Munakata and his group finally reached the tip of Cape Horn, the southern tip of South America.

Munakata kept looking at the sea at the other end of a remote area where the wind was blowing. How long had it been?

Suddenly, an old man appeared from a gap in the trees and slowly approached.

"Are you Mr. Munakata?"

When Munakata smiled and nodded as he asked hoarsely,

"I have a letter for you. Look, I give it to you."

He gave him the letter. Then slowly he made his way back into the forest. Curious, Munakata broke the seal and looked inside the paper.

After,

"Listen everyone..."

Munakata looked back at his fellow travelers who had been watching the exchange.

"I have received a letter of complaint. It seems that it is high tide. Let's go back to Japan at once."

It was a somewhat radiant smile.

Fushimi Saruhiko was definitely cornering Kamimori Katsuya, the self-proclaimed Black Iron King, and his group.

Upon capturing Tamaki Genjo, the person who literally covered the organization with a veil of black mist, they lost their Strain ability and intriguing protection.

It was not a difficult task for Fushimi and the members of "Scepter 4" to individually contain the exposed members.

Fushimi and Awashima thought the incident would end soon, though the top favorite Kamimori was still on the run.

Nevertheless...

That expectation was immediately nullified by Kamimori's outrageous actions.

Surprisingly, he attacked the "Scepter 4" garrison with only a few of his subordinates.

An unprecedented outrage in which a Strain attacked a public facility staffed by elite members of the Blue Clan, the headquarters of Strain's anti-crime measures, the source of order.

The reason was simply to help his fellow prisoners.

"Fushimi, how are you now?"

Awashima's annoying voice could be heard from the other side of the PDA.

"I haven't been able to return to the camp yet either. At the moment, I was only able to contact Hidaka once, so I gave him instructions, but I don't know the actual details."

Fushimi's response was filled with a disgust that he couldn't hide.

"Yes. I'll be home in about ten minutes. Fushimi. Let's make those who did something so stupid pay a reasonable price."

"Of course, Lieutenant."

And they both hung up almost at the same time. They both felt their pride as members of the blue clan hurt.

According to Fushimi's style, "Scepter 4" was also underrated.

That was the expression.

The unfortunate thing for them was that Awashima and Fushimi were on duty, and Zenjo, Akiyama, and Benzai, Captain Class, who were excellent at swordsmanship, were also absent.

Currently, Hidaka is the only member of the special forces on the scene and seems to be fighting hard with a small number of members.

When the taxi he was riding in got stuck in a traffic jam, Fushimi finally jumped out and ran the rest of the distance on his own. Then, in front of the garrison, he suddenly had a bad feeling and braked.

That insight struck a chord.

A shelf used to store materials suddenly flew out of a window on the second floor of the building, scattering glass and crashing to the ground right in front of Fushimi, causing him to collapse with a harsh sound.

"Let's do it!"

Fushimi looked up with a dangerous glint behind his glasses. Without hesitation, Awashima rushed over.

"Fushimi!"

She already had her hand on the hilt of the saber.

The two nodded to each other, breathing in unison, and tried to jump out of the main entrance.

And so...

"Oya."

They heard a nostalgic voice behind them and stopped involuntarily.

"It's going to be quite lively, isn't it? I've been sitting in the middle for a while, but do I have the qualifications to participate in this festival from now on?"

Katsuya Kamimori was just a simple man.

Tamaki, the superior officer, had told him to abandon him and escape the metropolitan area in the unlikely event of being captured, but he ignored him and retrieved Tamaki and his friends, boarding the "Scepter 4" base.

It was similar to raiding a warehouse where another group of criminals have a stronghold to help their fellow criminals who have been caught.

However, stupidity had to pay a painful price for the strategy devised by Fushimi and the young members of the special forces who carried it out.

The policy that Fushimi conveyed to Hidaka was simple.

In the first place, they were never to let Kamimori near the underground detention center (where Tamaki and the others were being held).

And until all the allies had the strength to do so, they would avoid starting battles as much as possible and build barricades and besiege the castle.

Fuse and Enomoto first.

Later, when Goto and Domyoji returned to his base, Hidaka finally decided to go on the offensive, neutralizing Kamimori's subordinates one by one and restraining them in turn.

Last time, he used the bitter experience of being pushed head-on by a god who boasted ridiculous physical strength. As a result, Kamimori had lost all of his companions and was trapped in a barricade in the middle of the second floor corridor and was left stranded.

Domyoji, Enomoto, Fuse, Goto, and Hidaka pushed him through the barricade, unable to move forward or back.

The shelf that fell in front of Fushimi had been thrown out of the window by the frustrated Kamimori, who was like a wounded bear.

"Dammit!"

Kamimori barked.

"You are dirty! Fight properly, blue clothes!"

His youthful face was dyed red with anger. Many had already decided. After that, it was a calculation how to reduce the damage and capture the god.

"I'm getting a little sad. I'll be your partner for a while.", Domyoji said.

"No, Domyoji-san!"

Hidaka hastily stopped him.

Although Kamimori has a finely chiseled face, he has a boyish face that could be mistaken for a teenager, with a golden shaved head and a white suit that he stripped off to reveal a bold patterned shirt.

Looking at his mischievous appearance...

"Well, even if he's the Black Iron King, he's actually an older brother who graduated from Yankee."

Fuse whispered.

"Perhaps they were abetted by the scheming Tamaki."

Enomoto nodded slightly. Nevertheless...

"But your reasoning is not completely unfounded. As long as the current measures against Strains don't change, I'm sure there will be more such people."

He muttered that under his breath, and the people around him heard that, his face was startled and he nodded his head.

People in the field felt it firsthand.

Some of the current Strains crimes are not due to malice on the part of the person involved, but rather a lack of social systems.

They were all silent for some reason.

"If you're a man, come right now!"

They were keeping watch as Kamimori yelled.

At that moment...

"Do you want a timer? So..."

They heard a very calm voice. They were all puzzled. A shadow was slowly approaching the scene of chaos, climbing the stairs.

"Let me be your partner."

Reisi Munakata, the "Blue King".

The boss of "Scepter 4", who had been absent for a long time, suddenly appeared with a smile on his face. Furthermore, he wore the uniform without any discomfort, and the sword belt was complete. Everyone was speechless at the sudden development.

With his hands folded behind his back, Munakata calmly passed through the barricade and stood in front of the divine guardian. Nobody had time to stop him.

Kamimori looked taken aback for a moment, but immediately...

"Oh! You are the boss of this place. What is it? Will you be the one with me?"

He said happily. Munakata agreed.

"Just like that."

Munakata immediately stopped Kamimori who was about to attack him.

"Let me ask you one thing. Why are you here?"

"Ah?"

"You should have known the risks. If you escaped like this, at least you alone would have been safe enough."

"......"

Kamimori lowered both fists.

He was silent for a while, then...

"No, seriously, I never thought of that. How can you abandon your friends and run off alone?"

"......"

Kamimori looked directly at Munakata. With a desperate expression that he wanted him to understand something.

"Well, just because I woke up with such a strange power, I got fired from the place where I worked so hard. I was so angry, but I didn't know what to do, so I was alone all the time. But Tamaki taught me what I should do. After that, the number of friends gradually increased and they started to follow me."

He cried.

"I'm a hopeless bastard, but if they call me king once, I definitely can't abandon my comrades, right?!"

"......"

Munakata had a smile on his lips and closed his eyes. And when he opened his eyes again...

"Your words touched my heart very much. It's alright. As the King himself, I will face you with all sincerity."

He put his hand on the hilt of the saber.

"Thanks!"

Kamimori joyfully clenched his fists. Munakata still had a soft expression.

"Munakata."

He drew his sword.

"Batto!"

Kamimori rushed forward without pause. Munakata swung his sword across it.

A moment later, the results came out.

A strange noise resounded and the entire building shook violently. Domyoji was the only one there that he could understand exactly what had happened.

"Oh..."

An admiration escaped from his mouth.

Munakata danced in the world of the speed of the gods, dodging the opponent's attack with a fine line, turning his body around and lowering the tip of his sword to directly hit the god's head.

Thus, Kamimori crashed into the ground, and the ground collapsed due to the impact. Kamimori was completely passed out as he was trapped in the construction material on the floor.

Munakata knelt down next to the unconscious Kamimori with a somewhat happy face.

"I'll tell you more when you wake up."

He patted him on the shoulder.

It was a spectacular sight.

After half a delay, the members of the special forces finally cheered and tried to approach Munakata.

But before that...

"Well done!"

"As expected of Mr. Munakata!"

"Good! Good! Munakata!"

People of different nationalities and ages climbed upstairs, jumped over the barricades and surrounded Munakata.

"Do not enter the garrison without permission!"

Fushimi raised his voice in anger and Awashima with a wry smile did the same.

The others were blank.

After that, Akiyama, Benzai, and Kamo, who had rushed back to their bases with Fushimi and Awashima, joined Munakata and gave a briefing in his own office.

By the way, Domyoji and the other members were busy cleaning up after capturing the divine guardians.

Meeting their "King" for the first time in a long time, everyone who stayed there was deeply moved.

Akiyama had a nostalgic face, Benzai had a smile on his lips, and Kamo had slightly teary eyes.

Awashima seemed relieved that Munakata appeared to be in good health. And Fushimi with a cold expression as if he dared to make up for it.

Munakata began to speak.

"Thanks to everyone, I was able to spend a very significant moment."

Then he added.

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know it's been a burden."

He bowed his head courteously and deeply. On the contrary, everyone panicked.

"No, it's not like that."

"Please raise your head!"

Akiyama and Benzai appealed.

"Oh."

Fushimi took a deep breath and said wryly.

"However, it certainly was a burden."

"Fushimi!"

When Awashima rebuked Fushimi...

"You shouldn't say that to your boss who suddenly comes back to this place after wandering around. Being underboss was the hardest to handle."

"Is that so."

Munakata smiled.

"I made Awashima-kun do a lot of things. Thanks again."

He leaned in again. Awashima also blushed.

"It's my job."

She tilted her head back. Kamo asked when the atmosphere calmed down.

"So, Captain, what did you see and hear during this time?"

Munakata slowly said...

"The state of the world after the collapse of the Slate. The current situation of the growing and diversifying Strains. The changing species of humanity... that's the way it is."

The executives of "Scepter 4" kept their thoughts to themselves and remained silent.

Munakata suddenly remembered.

"Speaking of which, Fushimi-kun. You sent a messenger from Cape Horn to give me a letter. How the hell did you know I was going there?"

Fushimi smiled. It seems that Munakata's somewhat mysterious appearance was interesting.

"Don't you know who the head of the department is? It's easy. The head of the department causes various incidents and troubles wherever he goes, so if you look at the news from the overseas network, you can naturally read the route and date expected arrival."

"That's all."

Munakata nodded.

"Well, I thought the head of the department would definitely like that place."

Fushimi slightly averted his gaze and added that in a low voice.

"You read it, right?"

Munakata said with a smile. Fushimi asked back.

"By the way, you've been away for a while. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Munakata neither affirmed nor denied it.

Fushimi's face was dumbstruck. But before he could say anything, Awashima intervened.

"Captain. To me, the Captain will always be the Captain. That doesn't change, right?"

She looked at Munakata. Munakata accepted that sincere look with a soft smile. Then he turned his gaze to Akiyama, Benzai and Kamo in turn.

In response to that unspoken question...

"Eh..."

Akiyama expressed his personal opinion.

"To me, the Captain is someone to look up to and he leads the cause of this country. It's the same now as it was in the past."

"I respect you. I will continue to follow you."

Firmly, Kamo said that wistfully.

"From the moment you recruited me, my time has taken on new meaning. I pledge my unwavering devotion and loyalty."

Finally, everyone's eyes were on Fushimi. Fushimi looked a bit shocked, but he immediately flashed a fearless smile that was typical of him.

"Well, it's you, right? I laughed so hard. I don't understand why you picked them up. Aren't there about 100 people? Since you're the captain, you'll make a place for them, right?"

Munakata closed his eyes.

He was called by various names along the way.

"Boss. General. Don. Okayashi. Adult. And most of all... King.

In the past, he advertised himself to the Slate.

But now...

"The boss is... our King."

Everyone including Fushimi nodded at Awashima's muffled voice.

Munakata's eyes widened.

"That's right. Now, I finally understand the "me"."

It was the time when Munakata's journey ended.

He traveled, walked, met, talked, fought and traveled the world.

He looked at what the world was like now.

He thought about what the world would be like in the future.

When he got some answers and returned to Japan, he was able to understand Reisi Munakata better than before.

He was naturally satisfied with what he had to do.

Reisi Munakata was just Reisi Munakata.

It was easy.

Munakata, who had reached that state of mind, left his companions behind and headed for the person he should talk to the most.

A building that almost reached the heavens where the "Golden King" who once ruled that country lived.

Munakata smiled and looked up. Currently, a silver-white airship is moored there.

That blimp will never take off again.

It will continue in the twelfth chapter, "The World of the Future".