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wannabemobwife · 3 years

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Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Sucker for Pain

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

Warnings: Guns (its in the title lol), grief, a minor mention of blood, fighting, always angst (what I consider angst)

Words: 4.1K

Author note: Totally cried while writing this. Feel free to leave comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter. Always love hearing from you guys.

Chapter 5: Sucker for Pain

Words: 4.1K

Word of Charlotte’s death had spread like wildfire, especially at school. Only Rosie was attending the past fews days. Parker set to join her in two days time, after the funeral, he was scared of what lied ahead. Parker was discharged from the hospital a few days ago, under strict instructions to rest. He started to go a little stir crazy, watching the days pass.

Most of the student’s attended the funeral. Charlotte’s demise was widely publicized which made Parker’s blood boil. No one knew her like Parker did. Who Charlotte actually was the complete opposite of the persona she put on in public and at school. Charlotte was secretly funny and enjoyed really cheesy corny jokes. Her sense of humor was one of things that made Parker fall in love with her.

All the Hollands attended. You, Tom, Rosie, and Parker, and hoped to pay your respects. Parker was exhausted, he had been going through the stages of grief. How could his life get so screwed in a matter of a few weeks. A couple weeks ago, he was a kid planning his promposal for his girlfriend and now he is a protégé of the biggest mob in London who was about to bury his girlfriend.

This was the final stage, the one he was dreading the most, acceptance. He didn’t want to let her go. Charlotte changed his world for the better. She was the first person he ever loved and loved him in return.

The denial didn’t last long. It was unfathomable how she no longer existed. How the world wouldn’t be blessed with her beautiful smile anymore. Or her corny sense of humor and gracious presence. How could someone so perfect just leave the world so suddenly.

Bargaining followed next, coupled with anger. Parker was angry at the world, God, himself, and the bastards that killed her. If they had only driven home when he wanted to, she would still be here. If he hadn’t gotten grounded and not overslept and cleaned up quick enough. If he hadn’t thrown that stupid party. If his dad never gave him an ultimatum. If he never turned 16. Even if he never existed in the first place, Charlotte would still be alive.

There are 5 stages of grief as if you move on from one to the next but no, they stick with people. Especially, depression and anger. How does anyone ever really get over death. Losing someone you love is greatest pain ever felt. Someone you held and protected. Losing Charlotte, in that moment Parker wasn’t good enough. Not enough to protect her or love her.

Bringing us up to date, acceptance. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye but since when did he start getting what he wanted. Parker stood like a statue as he watched Charlotte’s casket lower in to the ground. He knew he had to be strong not just for himself, but for everyone else, especially Charlotte’s parents. At the reception, Parker tried to speak to them but, he didn’t know what to say. How could he lie to them saying it was an accident when in reality he was the reason.

“You have some real nerve showing up here,” Mr. Owens said as Tom walked up to the grieving parents. “I was so sorry to hear about Charlotte, Mrs. Owens,” Tom explained. “You daft prick, you were there. You could’ve protected her,” screamed Mrs. Owens to Parker.

“Mrs. Owens, I just came to offer my condol—“ Parker tried to say.

“Fuck your condolences!” She yelled, throwing her daiquiri straight on Parker. Coating him, from head to toe, in a very potent alcoholic drink.

“I think what my son is trying to explain is that if you need anything, money or a favor, it would be our pleasure. Our family business has some important ties.” Tom exclaimed, hoping to bring them some peace. “You and your son end lives. That’s your family business. I want no part of it. Now if you don’t mind, please get out of my fucking way.” Mrs. Owens said, pushing her way past Tom.

“You people have too many strings. I just want my baby girl back, and you can’t do that,” screamed Mrs. Owens as she left the premises.

“Sir, you want me to take care of her?” asked William, Tom’s capo. “Leave her alone, she’s grieving. Parker come on, let’s go home and get you cleaned up,” Tom explained.

“She’s right. If it weren’t for me Charlotte would still be alive.” Parker said solemnly. Tom hated seeing his son like this, it was eating him up inside. Tom couldn’t do anything to stop it, it was up to Parker to face his inner demons.

The Holland household was starting to return to normalcy, at least what they called normalcy. Parker refused to leave his room for awhile. Staff and you would bring food up to his room each meal and take the untouched one from before. He was a shell of a person after the night. All the while Parker was getting over Charlotte, Rosie was getting under someone new.

Henry had been coming over frequently for two reasons. To comfort Parker in his time of need and to be with Rosie. Their love for each other blossomed rather quickly. Rosie was not one for big romantic gestures, but made an exception from Henry.

The day had come where Parker was to return to school. How could face all of them with the judgements and accusations. Charlotte’s death shook everyone to their very core, everyone was taking the news differently. It wasn’t common for the school community to lose on of their own. Maybe a teacher but never a student.

There were a multitude of mourners that ranged from the fake asses who say they knew her but didn’t, her former conquests who only saw her as a good fuck and her actual friends who were devastated. Posters were hung up and there were candles, teddy bears and “We miss you cards,” displayed all over her locker.

You drove them to school that morning, since Parker was still grounded. Arriving at school, all voices ceased to exist as the black Rolls Royce pulled up. Out jumped Parker and Rosie and all eyes shifted to them as they walked through the halls.

“Glad to see you are back Mr. Holland. You missed a few projects, you can make them up at a later time,” Ms. Erikson, Parker’s chemistry teacher, said. Parker just nodded in response.

Walking to his seat, he perfectly heard all the rumors being spread or was he supposed to. “I heard he was the one who killed her.” “I heard they were both at a gang bang” “I heard she died in his arms”. How could people be so insensitive to make snap judgements like that.

Charlotte’s parents’ opted for the cause of her death to remain hidden. But they were teenagers, they couldn’t help but, gossip. Rumors are just rumors, Parker would tell himself. They weren’t entirely wrong. He was the reason, he was there when it happened, and he held her as she died. Being in those hollowed halls was brutal. Parker was basically the new social pariah.

The student’s weren’t oblivious to the Holland family. They knew what most people knew. That Tom Holland owned one of the largest exporting companies in Europe, Holland Exportation and Luxuries. And they knew not to mess with the Hollands.

Once class was over, now came the hard work. Tom called it “Mobster Bootcamp,” Parker was currently taking lessons with his dad to carry on the legacy. Tom had a few tricks of the trade up his sleeve desperately wanting to pass on to his son. They had met in the Tom’s office to begin.

“Lesson 1: Always wear black or white.” Tom started with as Parker took notes, like the perfect student he is.

With one, blood will alter it completely and the other remains unchanged. It was a common theme, with the Holland legacy, wearing black or white. It was sleek, dangerous and classy all at the same time.

“The one big perk is that blood doesn’t show up on black fabric.”

“Lesson 2: Wives must be treated with respect, girlfriends are fair game."

“If you’re a good man, the only describable difference between a wife and girlfriend is that one has an unnecessary symbol on her ring finger. They both mean the same and don’t you forget it,” Tom concluded.

And Tom was a good man. Never has Tom even thought about cheating on you. Porn was pointless and strip clubs bored him. Why throw away the best thing that ever happened to him, you.

“Lesson 3: Someone brings a knife, you bring a gun” “Never be without a weapon. Anything can become a weapon with the right skill set, but always be prepared.”

Tom was a big fan of improvisation. Sometimes using what he had on hand, like his tie. Strangling wasn’t his most favorite method of killing but he liked to mix it up.

“Also find finesse in your kills. Your mother is a big believer in gun to the head, execution style. Me on the other hand, I prefer to roughen up a guy a bit, but you will eventually develop an M.O. (modus operandi). Another lesson, make sure you don’t always use the same M.O. mix it up a bit, otherwise they could trace it back to you,” Tom elaborated.

“That bring me to my next lesson.”

“Lesson 4: Blackmail is your best friend.”

Tom has had a few close calls in his day. Everything about running a mob had to be sneaky. Bodies couldn’t be found by any random person, they needed to be cleaned up and dealt with. The witness’s in a meeting were sworn into secrecy, he had enough dirt on them that he could get someone to fake their death if need be. Cops were never a problem with the Hollands. They were his puppets and he was the puppet master.

“Killing someone in a public place you risk being caught by an innocent bystander. Then one things leads to another and you are cleaning up two bodies instead of one.That’s why I have the warehouse and the police Captain in my pocket. Just remember everyone’s got a price,” Tom explained.

“Lesson 5: Have as little weaknesses as possible.”

Tom hated referring to the one’s he loved as weakness but it was the truth. He couldn’t be weak if he desired to be top dog. The moment you and Tom started a family, his liabilities increased. From that day, his only goal was to protect you and the twins.

“I would never call your mother a weakness, but I would die for her. Also for you and your sister. This makes me vulnerable. In the past, people have put her in danger situations for leverage against me.” Tom said, rubbing his temples. Parker just nodded in return. A long silence ensued.

“Dad, are you okay?” Parker questioned.

“Yeah. I’m sorry son, I have more for you but, just have a lot on my mind,” Tom apologized. “It’s alright. Any luck with finding Charlotte’s killer?” Parker asked, his voice tainted with hope.

“No, but I do have a meeting at the warehouse with a contact would you like to tag along?”

“How could I say no,” Parker said, kind of excitedly. They made their way out of the mansion and drove to the warehouse. Parker had never been here before. It was dark and cold looking. The walls were pure metal sheets and the floor had stains of blood scattered everywhere. “Good to see you, Jazz,” Tom said walking up to the mysterious woman tied to a chair. Jasmine Ramsey, a contract killer Tom was friends with. A little more than friends at one time, predating you.

“Fuck you, Tom. What’d I do to be graced with your presence,” questioned Jazz. “Nothing to piss me off, yet,” Tom chuckled. “Then why the fuck am I here,” she said a little peeved.

“My son, here, needs to ask you a few questions,” Tom said, pointing towards Parker who stood in the corner. “Aww a baby Holland. Following in your daddy’s footsteps, huh?” “Shut it, slag,” Parker yelled as he melded his fist with her jaw.

“Jesus. What the fuck was that for?” Jazz screeched. “Woah. Sorry Jazz, should’ve told him you were an old friend,” Tom says, holding his hands up in defense. “Oh, I’m so sorry miss. Could I get you some ice or something?” Parker exclaimed, surprised that he just punched an assassin.

“Its fine didn’t hurt that bad. Gotta work on your punch,” she said adjusting her jaw. “Really. Hurt like a bitch to me” Parker whispered, holding his aching hand. Blood began to seep out of the broken skin, staining his knuckles red. “Tommy you gotta tell your son to grow tougher skin” Jazz exclaimed. “What the fuck were you thinking Parker?” Tom said, grabbing Parker by the collar of his polo. “Sorry I just assumed with her being tied up and all” Parker exclaimed. “That’s how we do business boy. You’ll soon learn”Jazz explained with a shit-eating grin across her face.

“Anyway, I need info on a murder at The Luxe on the 11th. A young girl was involved.” Tom turned to Jazz.

“Oh I heard about that, poor girl, she was pretty too. What’s it to you, Holland?”

“That’s not important,” Tom hissed. “She was my girlfriend,” Parker interrupted.

“Sorry lover boy my hands are tied, literally,” Jazz said, rolling her eyes. “If I untie you will you talk?” Tom replied.

“Yes, you know me. I don’t appreciate being threatened.” “Alright Jazz, just spit it out.” Tom said as Parker untied her restraints. “I was downtown at pub, called Harmon’s. Heard of it?” Jazz expressed. “Yeah, a big hotspot for Shaw’s men,” Tom said, nodding his head as he followed along. “Well, I was searching for my target and overheard some men saying “It’s going down tonight, word from the Merchant is that he should be there, with his little whore.”” “Fuck. The Merchant. Where have I heard that?” Tom said, puzzled. “Short for Merchant of Death. Surely, you’ve heard the old mob tales.” Jazz elaborated.

“Of course.”

“Well if it is him, I’d stop looking you don’t want to find him,” she warned. “Please, everyone knows I’m fucking top dog,” Tom asserted. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Tommy. You are now, but he used to be and if he is returning, watch your back. All he craves is power. If that’s it I’ll be on my way.” Jazz explained, asking for permission to leave. “Yes of course, Jazz. Thanks.” Tom muttered. “Give my love to your wife,” she said, pressing a cheek to his kiss as she strutted out. “Seriously dad?” Parker asked with a side glare. “Parker stop it. I love your mother and I would never cheat on her. Jazz and I are just friends.” Tom explained creating a “I’m watching you” look on Parker’s face.

“Jesus, one punch ripped open your knuckles. You're the one telling mom. Now come on or we’ll be late for dinner,” Tom said, inspecting Parker’s hand. Being the new mob boss was in Parker’s blood, but you were always against it. You loved the mob and being part of it but you wanted your kids to have a choice, unlike you and Tom.

Meanwhile at the manor, you and Rosie were making dinner. You appreciated all the staff to clean and cook but, enjoyed the satisfaction when doing it yourself. Secretly loving your independence. While you were dating Tom, you would try to ditch your security much to Tom’s dismay. You were a junkie for thrills.

Rosie and your relationship is what ever mother desired. You treated Rosie like a daughter first and a best friend second. As long as Rosie’s life was never put in danger you would keep her secrets. The major one being Henry.

“Hey honey. Since it’s just us here, how are things going with Henry?” You asked curiously. “Wait, where’s dad and Parker?” Rosie questioned cause nobody else knew. “Taking care of some business. Now spill, I want all the details.” “Well things are going really great. We kissed.” “Really? When? Where?” You have always wanted to have this conversation with her daughter. “At the hospital when Parker was hurt. I had a panic attack and Henry comforted me. He is really great, mom. I don’t know I’ve just never felt this way before,” she explained. Rosie had boyfriends in the past, never long enough for anything serious to perspire.

“Roo if you’re ready to take that step, I’m here for you. You can tell me anything.”

“I’m okay, right now, considering”

“Considering what? Did something happen? Has Henry been pressuring you?” You grew concerned of your daughter. “No. God no, nothing like that. On the night of the party, I got drunk and remember that boy Connor?”

“Yes, go on.” “Well he… he tried to rape me.” Rosie murmured, trying not to cry. “What? Roo why didn’t you tell me,” you whispered, your heart breaking on behalf of Rosie. “Henry was there to stop it and I just want to forget about.” “Roo, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I’m always here for you ok? I love you so much baby.” “Love you too, mom” Rosie replied. Their conversation soon quickly ended as Tom and Parker came barging through the front door and Rosie excused her self to the restroom.

“Ooo, something smells good. What is my beautiful wife cooking?” Tom asked, coming up behind you and kissing your neck.

“The only thing she knows how to cook, spaghetti and meatballs,” you replied, jokingly.

“How was your guy’s day?” You asked. “Great, Parker really showed them,” Tom said, kissing your forehead and pulling you into a warm embrace.

“Jesus Parker, does it hurt?” you questioned as he showed her his battle scars.

“What the fuck happened to your hand?” Rosie said, walking back into the kitchen. “Oh nothing,” Parker said, trying to change the subject. Rosie just gave him a puzzling glare as she dropped the subject.

“Dinner’s ready,” you announced as they all made their way to the dining room. There they sat at the long table, Tom at the head of course and you to the right of him. You all talked about your day, of course, avoiding any mob talk.

“So what really happened to your hand” Rosie asserted breaking the silence. “Drop it. Will you?” Parker barked annoyed at her persistence. “Fine,” she said staring at her plate until her phone buzzed. That noise put a smile across her face because it was always the same person, Henry. “Roo, you know the rules. No phones at dinner,” you remarked. “I know mom, just give me one second,” replied Rosie, holding up a finger. “Rosie, your mother asked you to put it down. Who’s got you so giddy anyway.” Tom said, defending you.

“Oh nothing” Rosie muttered, putting her phone down. “Ten bucks it’s a boy” Tom said directed towards you. “Deal” you responded, shaking his hand. He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss, theirs loving way of shaking hands.

“I’m done. Dinner was great, thanks mom. May I be excused?” Parker asked and Tom nodded in response. Rosie cornered him on his way upstairs. It had been a while since they had talked. Sibling to sibling. Twin to twin. They tried not to keep secrets from each other. He hadn’t of told her about the mob and she hadn’t told him of her and Henry.

“Now tell me what the fuck you did to your hand,” Rosie barked, cornering him.

“Why the fuck do you want to know so bad?” Parker responded. “Umm, I’m your sister.”

“Rosie I don’t have time for your bullshit,” Parker yelled. “What the fuck happened? There’s something you aren’t telling me,” Rosie accused.

“Dad wants me to be the next him.” Parker explained. “I’m not following. What like run the company?” Rosie asked, confused by his statement.

“No. Dad is a mobster. He runs a mob and he wants me to succeed him.” “What the fuck? When did this happen? Why the fuck haven’t you told me?” Rosie exclaimed.

“Our birthday. This is what I was trying to tell you at the party!” Parker yelling causing Rosie to yell back. “Sorry, I was a little preoccupied and so were you!” Rosie hinting at Charlotte. “Don’t turn this on me. What the fuck are you doing with Henry, by the way? You think I don’t see the two of you sneaking around.” Parker quipped, in reality he had never seen their antics. “Nothing, it’s none of your business,” Rosie said, shying away from him. “Of course, it’s my business he’s my best friend.” “Well he is mine too and the world doesn’t revolve around you. If you weren’t so busy breaking curfew and sneaking out, you would see that Henry is really good to me, ever since that night.” Rosie explained stopping herself before she said something she wasn’t ready to acknowledge herself.

“Rosie, what happened?” Parker asked noticing her quick change in demeanor.

“You won’t care,” Rosie quipped.

“Try me,” Parker said softly.

“That night… someone slipped something in my drink and tried to take advantage of me, but Henry stopped it.” Rosie explained, trying to avoid the brute of Parker’s rage.

“Who? Tell me who right fucking now!”

“Connor.”

“I’m gonna kill him” “No, Henry already took care of it. You already have enough blood on your hands,” Rosie chuckled, surprised Parker cared that much. “Thanks,” he said with sarcasm.

“Roo, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known.” “It’s ok. I’m just trying to put it behind me”

“So what you are a mobster now?” “One in training. I need you to know I’m doing this for one reason only, to avenge Charlotte, okay. Not looking to kill for sport like mom and dad.”

Rosie’s suspicions grew over the years that her parents did enjoy living above the law. It didn’t bother her, she actually hoped the mantle would be passed on to her. She had a more fiery spirit than Parker, he was just a big softie on the inside much like his father. Appearances can be deceiving.

Tom was currently in his office, finishing up work for the night. Buzz, buzz, buzz. The last person he thought would call him, his dad.

“So are you going to say thanks?” asked Dom.

“For what? I don’t time for your antics, dad. A hit was hired on Parker and I have to figure out who did it.” Tom sighed. He was frustrated he was getting no where, who was the Merchant of Death. “Umm, hello. Like I said you’re welcome,” Dom quipped.

“You fucking mean that was you.”

“Duh, told you he needed a push in the right direction. I wasn’t the one to pull the trigger but I knew where he was.” “I have a crushed kid over here wanting revenge on the bastards who killed his girlfriend.” “Problem solved, glad he is joining the family business.” Dom said and hung up. How the fuck was Tom going to explain to Parker that his grandpa arranged the hit?

“FUCK!!” Tom screamed smashing everything in sight.

Meanwhile, Parker made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water when he saw you sitting on the couch, consumed in your book.

“Hey mom?” Parker asked, needing to get something off his chest. “Yeah, honey,” you responded, drawing your eyes away from your book. “I need to tell you something.”

“I’m listening… wait what the fuck was that. Hold that thought.” You hesitated when you heard a large crash come from Tom’s office.

“Let me go check on your father,” you said, getting up from the couch. Parker couldn’t help but be curious. He followed her before she closed the door and listened in, pressing his ear against the door.

“Tommy, what happened?” You queried. “It was him,” Tom spoke with an unchanging expression. “Who, Carson?” “No, Dom. He arranged the hit,” Tom said.

Parker’s heart sunk to his stomach. His girlfriend was dead because of his family. He really did kill her.

Maybe he wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger but she was seen with him. As far as he is concerned it painted a huge red target on her back. What kind of life was he born into? He never wanted any of this and now all he is, is this.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland blurb #mob!tom #mob tom #mob!tom holland #dad!mob!tom holland #mob!tom x mob!reader #mob!tom x reader #mob!tom holland x reader #dad!mob!tom

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songtoyou · 4 years

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Chapter 1: The Pope, The Rabbi, and The Gypsy

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 1,795

Warnings: Talks of sexual content.

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

A/N: I was very pleased with the positive reaction to the prologue of this fic. I am glad that some of you are liking it. For this chapter, we learn a little more about the OC, and how she will meet Tommy. We also learn about the owners and some of Excelsior's clientele, the secret exclusive club in downtown London. Tommy looks for a new girl now that Lizzie is gone.

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people actually like this fic. I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Excelsior was an exclusive invite-only club located in downtown London. Members included high profile men from actors, musicians, politicians, and business moguls. The activities that occur at Excelsior were top secret. Members and workers at the club were bound by a non-disclosure agreement to ensure nothing was made public. Excelsior was merely a very high-end gentlemen's club to the unassuming public, but underneath, it allowed members to succumb to their deepest desires.

Owned and run by "Duchess" Izabella Petrovna and her niece, "Princess" Tatiana Petrovna, the club was steeped in excess and glamour. No suspecting individual would ever think to confuse the establishment as an underground sex club. While the Duchess ran the business side of the operations, the Princess recruited the women. There was a certain criterion that the Princess enforced when it came to employing. First, the women had to be between the ages of twenty-one to thirty-five. The women underwent an extensive background check, along with a psych evaluation. Many of the employees found it hilarious that the Duchess and Princess required a psych evaluation considering that they themselves were equally eccentric…or insane, to put it mildly. Birth control was a non-negotiable requirement the women had to abide by. The women at the club had to partake in monthly STD tests to ensure they were clean and healthy.

While the Duchess and Princess were an oddball pairing, there was no denying that they cared for their girls and valued the work they did for the members. Their business endeavor allowed the Petrovna's to continue to live in luxuries that Russia no longer was able to provide. They paid well.

It was how Rose Turner provided a decent life for herself and her son, Louis. Rose had been working at the club for six years and in that time had garnered quite the clientele. However, it would be three men who would have a tumultuous impact on Rose's life. She referred to them as the Pope, the Rabbi, and the Gypsy.

The Pope was Luca Changretta, an Italian man from New York. Luca was a prominent businessman whose family still resided in England. While Audrey Changretta was a former school teacher, her husband Vincent, and youngest son Angel, owned restaurants and bars from Manchester to Birmingham, to London. They also dabbled in the real estate business and owned numerous high rise apartment buildings. The Changretta family was viewed as a rival to the Shelby clan. Both have tried to partner on business ventures with no deal ever emerging. The two families did not trust one another.

With Luca stationed over in the States, he would visit his family throughout the year during holidays, for birthdays, weddings, funerals, openings of new Changretta establishments. Time home also allowed for Luca to engage in his pleasures. His visits to Excelsior were always a big deal. Everything had to be perfect, according to Izabella. Tatiana assigned Rose to Luca.

"You are his type, no," Tatiana would say. "He likes the way you look. That innocent and doe-eyed look. Hooker with a heart of gold, they say, right."

Rose did not question Tatiana. She read through Luca's file to find out more about her new client and what he liked. The man was noticeably big into role play, especially in a religious aspect. He loved playing the part of a holy man while Rose played the Catholic school girl or nun. It was how Luca got the nickname, "The Pope." The man thankfully always managed to be a gentleman. He respected the rules of the club and never went overboard. If Rose was uncomfortable with acting out a scene, she knew it was okay to voice her worries. Luca never tried to fight her or manipulate her into partaking in a scene. He respected Rose's boundaries. She was one of his favorites at the club.

Alfie Solomons was nicknamed "The Rabbi" and another important client at Excelsior. He had his fill of women during his time at the club. So much so that the girls would talk openly with one another about his particular habits. For instance, Alfie never partook in actual intercourse with the women. Instead, he relied on toys such as dildos or vibrators to bring pleasure to his women. He would also make sure to wear black latex gloves while touching the women. Many assumed it was to keep himself clean and pure since he participated in activities that would be deemed excruciatingly unholy. Alfie made sure that Tatiana only gave him gentile women.

"No Jewish women, love. They are holy creatures and should be remained as such, okay," Alfie demanded.

When Rose saw Alfie for the first time, she was intimidated by his big stature. However, Alfie proved to be one of Rose's favorite clients. The man knew how to pleasure a woman. He always made scenes fun and intense. Some women would even fight over who got to be with Alfie on certain nights he was at the club. They all loved him.

As the son of a Russian Jewish woman and working-class Londoner father, Alfie worked his way up in the world. It would be the distillery business where Alfie would make his fortunes. From rum and vodka to gin, beer, and cider, Solomons & Sons was the top distillery company in the United Kingdom. It did not take long for the Shelby family came knocking on Alfie's door to partner with on business endeavors. While Alfie would continue to remain skeptical about the Shelby family, he knew the business deal with them would be too good to pass up. He loved having a go at Tommy Shelby from time-to-time to see how far he could push the Birmingham lad.

In fact, it was Alfie who told Tommy about Excelsior.

"You go from whore to whore with no care in the world. It is like you got a death wish. Seriously, don't you ever worry about getting the clap? I'll tell ya what…let me talk with one of my associates about inviting you to join this club I frequent. It will have everything you ever wanted and more. Trust me," Alfie shared with Tommy at one of their business meetings two years ago.

Tommy merely scoffed as he took a drag of his cigarette. "Trust you. Not likely, Alfie. As I recall, it was because of you that the deal with the Changrettas fell apart. Something about mentioning how my brother John got into a fight with Angel Changretta over a girl they both were seeing at the time."

With a shit-eating grin, Alfie replied, "I am a beacon of truth, eh."

"More like a pain in my ass," Tommy smirked.

As promised, Alfie talked with Tatiana about inviting Tommy to the club. She was adamant about meeting with the self-made millionaire. The Princess wanted to make sure he was suitable to partake in her establishment. If Tatiana had the ability, she would have kept Tommy all to herself if she could.

"None of those whores deserve you, Thomas," said Tatiana as she laid in bed next to him.

"No, they deserve better. Better than me, that is for sure. But…they are all I got. So, I need your help in finding the best one for me. One that I can take out in public if need be. One who can be presentable to society at certain functions I have to attend. That way, I can keep up the appearance of a family man who still grieves the loss of his wife while trying to move on with my life."

Lizzie Stark filled that position for two years before her sudden and unexpected departure at Excelsior. Now Tatiana had to find a new girl to assign for Tommy, which was no easy task with his certain expectations. The man was rather picky, to say the least. Perusing her girls' files, she realized that there was only one who could meet the requests of Tommy Shelby.

"Rose Turner," announced Tatiana and handed Tommy her file. "She has been with us for a couple of years. She is considered top-quality—good reviews from our top clients. As you can see, she is beautiful, no. She can be elegant if need be for your functions. Adventurous…flexible, if you know what I mean. She'd be perfect for you. What do you think?"

Tommy looked over Rose's file. Her birthdate indicated she was in her early thirties and from Blackpool, a seaside resort town on England's Irish Sea coast. It was England's very own Coney Island. Ada took Karl and Charlie there for a weekend getaway not long after Grace died to cheer up her nephew.

"How many men does she see regularly?" Tommy asked.

"Rose is considered top quality. Her clientele is small. She has no more than four regulars. One does not live here full-time. He only sees her when he visits family. The others…well, they are people from your circle of business partners."

"Is that so. Who would these men be?" Tommy inquired as he continued to look through Rose's file.

"I am not at liberty to tell you such vital information…"

"Well, Tatiana, let me take a guess. Could Alfie Solomons be one of Rose's clients? How about Darby Sabini? Is he on the list? Billy Kimber before his untimely departure on this Earth?" Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and tossed Rose's file on Tatiana's desk. "Set up a meeting for me with Rose. Not here, though. Tell her to meet me at The Savoy Hotel this Saturday night. Give her this as well," Tommy handed Tatiana an envelope she assumed had cash in it. "Tell her to buy something nice for the occasion. The two of us can talk over dinner, and if all goes well, we can end the night on a good note. Just know this Princess, if all goes well, then Rose becomes mine. Her other clients can fuck off for all I care. I am not one to share what is mine."

So here Rose was, at one of London's top boutiques picking out a dress for Saturday night. Tatiana explained the possible arrangement with Mr. Shelby, and if things went well, he would be Rose's main client. Meaning he would become Rose's only client. She had reservations about it until Tatiana shared how much Mr. Shelby was willing to pay. It was more money than Rose originally would make. Tatiana shared that Mr. Shelby would provide Rose a weekly allowance on top of her services' standard fees. The deal with too good to pass up. However, Tatiana was adamant to Rose that meeting Tommy first would be wise before agreeing to any deals.

All Rose knew was that she had a date with The Gypsy.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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sileeeles · 4 years

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From A to A

So, in my transition from Android to Apple (iPhone mainly) things have been, mostly, pretty simple.

Most apps I use(d) exist on both or there are alternatives. But there are a few small niggles that have irritated me. And by and large they are neither the fault of either manufacturer. WhatsApp for example. It is 2020. Yes, I understand that only one device can be signed into a WhatsApp account. Since almost everybody except flashy tech YouTubers will only have one device, that makes sense. If you do have another phone I would assume it is either business related or you have far more going on in your life than I do lol. At any rate, you are free to use your WhatsApp account on any device you are currently using or see fit. However, there is one caveat, and its a pretty fucking huge one, in my opinion. There is, currently, no way to take your chat and history with you. Sure, you can back it up, or you can send it wherever as a plain text chat more or less, but there is no way to, say, back it up from Android and then import it or download it to iOS. People change platforms. In general, WhatsApp is a pain in the ass when you DO want to backup old chats because they’re all encrypted. And gaining the key to unlock them? Incredibly difficult unless you have a rooted Android (I don’t even know what the procedure would be for iPhone). I have chat backups from 2014 that I will probably never be able to look at or read again because they are encrypted and I don’t have the key for them. There is a small glimmer of hope in that apparently WhatsApp are working on a “linked devices” feature, but 1) does that still mean I need my old device to remain active? 2) does it also transfer all of my chats over? 3) Why is there not a simple export/import feature in the first place? Its all a but fucking asinine if you ask me.

Another one that is mainly just an inconvenience for me, but is no ones fault really is that apps I paid for on Google also cost money on iOS. Which means I will probably need to rebuy a few things. Annoying yes, but thats just how it is.

This one is annoying and is sort of Apples fault: Touch ID. I had to replace the screen for the iPhone I’m currently using and the Home buttom ribbon cable had flat out torn from so much previous use. In case you didnt know, the TouchID is tied to the phone it came with. Which means if you replace the screen and the Home button, or just the Home button, TouchID wont work anymore. WHY this is the case? Absolutely no idea. To my knowledge fingerprint scanners don’t store any information. They don’t contain the prints of the previous owner and even if they did, yours isn't the same ... so it wouldn't match anyway... I honestly can’t wrap my head around it. Other than to drive people to Apple repair shops. Which is one of those irritating “taking the choice away and forcing you to pay” things that Apple is pretty well known for by now. And if people want it so badly, they’ll pay. They’re counting on it. That is about it, though, really. No issues with anything else. Stil surprising myself how much I enjoy it.

#android #apple #whatsapp #facebook #apps #ios #touchid #tech

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mayorofcattown · 4 years

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Patreon updates

I’ll put more in depth info about all this under a read more, but I’m gonna start updating my patreon again but this time with speedpaints instead of/alongside visual novel stuff. There isn’t anything posted just yet, I’ll post the first speedpaint sometime in the next week.

Also was curious if people would be interested in longer, slower recordings? Not real time of course, but maybe like 1 hour instead of 10-20 minutes? Do people actually watch those, I have no idea lol

I’ve also updated the main intro on my main patreon page here (or if you just wanna check it out in general): https://www.patreon.com/mayorofcattown

Anyway, more info under the cut

So uhh its been a while lol. I’ve been pondering what do do with my patreon for the last few months, cause I didn’t really know what to do w it. I was originally gonna use it for visual novel related stuff exclusively, but since I finished the last fan game I made there hasn’t really been much to post.... cause while I have been working on stuff, it’s all boring backend programming stuff, or stuff that would be better shown publicly to get ppl interested in the first place. I’d always pitched it as mostly just a tip jar anyway, so I figured I’d just take a break for a bit and anyone could drop off if they weren’t interested anymore, but I still felt kinda bad abt leaving it, so I wanted to do something with it.

I had however been thinking of including speedpaint videos instead/in the meantime. I’ve always liked them personally, but they’re kinda a pain to make, and youtube’s algorithms make it hard to really get anywhere with them, so I could never be bothered doing them, but I figure they’d be a cool thing to put on my patreon instead. They’d be more worth my time, and I don’t have to deal with any of youtube’s bull.

Another reason I’ve been thinking of doing this is I finally got around to buying the full version of the screen recording software I use, Flashback, (it turns out they had a Very Good student discount lol) which makes editing the videos WAY easier, cause I used to have to export every piece of footage individually to be able to edit them, which took ages, but now I can edit them all in the software itself, and then just export it Once as the final copy, which saves So. Much. Time.

tbh the only reason I even use it is that all the other screen recorders I tried HATED clip studio for some reason, at least on my laptop (Especially OBS..... for some reason having OBS open on my laptop At All breaks pressure sensitivty in CSP for me??? but not in anything else??? wtf??) tho I mostly just like how simple it is to record stuff too

Basically I can make speedpaints way easier now but also I hate using youtube so I figure I’ll slap them on my patreon instead.

Also like I mentioned, I’m thinking of offering slowed down ones too? not real time, that’d be like 6+ hours at bare minimum, no one wants that, but I could do like. hour long ones if people are into that? I’ve seen ppl offer them, but I don’t have the attention span to watch someone draw for that long lol, so I dunno if people actually watch them. they would take like no extra effort to make, if I’m already doing sped up ones anyway

I will probably do abt one speedpaint (2 if I do the slowed down one too, but same footage) a month, available on the $1 tier. I don’t plan to do other tiers, this is still mostly just a fun tip jar thing, so I never want ppl to feel obligated to pay, it’s just a fun bonus for the ppl who do and are able to support me, but it’s totally not necessary. I might end up making the speedpaints public after like. a year or so, and I’m never gonna have like. actual art exclusive there or anything.

I don’t record Everything that I draw, cause it can be a hassle sometimes, but I do have a bit of a backlog of footage that I can use, so I have a buffer I can go back on if I don’t get anything recorded that month. The first speedpaint I’m gonna post is of the tanuma bday pic, with him and natsume on chilling on madara, and I also have recordings of the Ass Class and Tales of Vesperia pics I drew a while ago.

#sorry I rambled more than I thought I would lol #anyway #I'm also gonna make a separate post about visual novel stuff I've been doing #cause I've been doing stuff! It's just mostly boring programming stuff

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godzillagirl-14 · 5 years

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Wish Upon an Idol (Ch. 2)

Chapter 2

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Summary: The Bangtan boys have the ability to grant wishes (unbeknownst to you, the brand new addition to their friend group) So when you jokingly wish you had superpowers to “help the world in a way you knew how” what happens when you wake up the next day with extraordinary abilities?

A/N: So this chapter is more of a backstory for the reader and boys. I have no clue where I’m going with this story but I have a general idea, but if you wanna throw in ideas and theories about what you think is gonna happen, don’t be afraid to comment. Also don’t be afraid to comment if you’d like to be apart of the tag list :)

Warnings: Drama, Angst, a lot of Action, Smut (later on), and a bad attempt at being humorous.

Warnings for this chapter: Things get a little heated . . . sort of.

Word count: 3,054

Launching himself out of his bed with an energy and agility he didn’t know he possessed, Yoongi burst through his door into the hallway, hightailing it to your room, six other men hot on his tail. He practically threw himself at your closed door, forcing it open and almost taking the poor thing off its hinges. The whole thing would have been comical honestly, watching the Min Yoongi run like a man escaping Hell to the bedroom of the girl he’s head over heels for, but they could laugh later. In the middle of the room is where you laid in bed. Now this wouldn’t have been so bad, had you and your bed not been alight with flames.

Yep.

You were quite literally on fire. Standing still in shock for only a minute before springing into action, all 7 boys suddenly moved as if they got a swift kick to the ass. Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jin all helped to haul you from the flaming bed, making sure to pat out the lingering flames that remained on your clothes. Meanwhile, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook all ran out of the room, Taehyung and Jimin to the kitchen and Jungkook back to his room.

Quickly grabbing the small little fire extinguisher on top of their refrigerator, Taehyung never thought he would be using the small object to extinguish the girl of his dreams. He expected to use it for a Namjoon related cooking incident, not this. Beside him, Jimin practically propelled himself into the fridge to get as many water bottles his arms could carry. Was he being a little too dramatic? Maybe, but he was determined to make sure you didn’t go dehydrated.

Jungkook sprinted down the hallway to his room, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers because surely you’re clothes had to be charred and gross. He was secretly elated at the idea of you wearing his clothes. He just wished it were under different circumstances. All three of them ran back to your room as quickly as they could, all meeting their doom in your doorway where they inevitably collided, sending all of the items flying. They barely had any time to get their bearings before they once again sprung into action, scrambling to get the items together. Three grown men running around like chickens with their heads cut off. You would have laughed had it not been for the situation.

The sound of the fire extinguisher putting out the fire made you startle out of your thoughts and you unintentionally pushed yourself closer to Jin’s arms - not that he was complaining- as he soothingly rubbed the smooth skin of your arms.

Wait. Smooth?

Pulling away from you, he examined the skin of your arms and legs, seeing as they were not covered in third degree burns. Your poor clothes however were burnt to shit.

“She doesn’t have any burns.” Hobi stated the obvious as he took notice in the way that Jin was looking over your completely unharmed body. As if realizing that you weren’t injured, you gently pushed Jin away from you, taking a couple of steps towards your full body mirror. Looking over at your ruined pajamas and unmarred skin, you slightly pouted. “I really liked those pajamas.” you mumbled to yourself.

By the time Taehyung had finished putting out the fire, the smoke had finally flitted up in the air, covering the room in an intense silence as you gratefully took the clothes in the Jungkook’s hands. . . And then the smoke detector went off.

The constant and shrill beeping noise was already annoying in itself and the boys automatically cringed. But your poor eardrums; it felt like someone was brutally taking a sledgehammer to your skull while screeching in both ears. The violent shudder that wracked your body shocked the boys around you as you sunk down to the floor with your hands pressed against the sides of your head. A painful cry tore from your throat as you felt as if your head would explode.

You faintly heard a shout from somewhere in the room before the shrill noise stopped and you immediately relaxed, however the pounding headache remained. You saw a hand trying to hand you a water bottle, but you felt too nauseous to put anything in your mouth.

You did, however, reach out to the hand, grabbing onto their forearms and forcing yourself up, coming face to face with the beautiful Park Jimin. He gave you a small concerned smile and your felt your skin heat up. And it wasn’t because of the fire. Quickly shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you continued to hold onto his arm as you looked around the room.

“Guys,” they’ve never seen you more serious in the short months of you living with them. “I need to go to the hospital, I think I’ve been drugged.”

It was silent for a solid ten seconds before the room erupted into loud boasts of laughter. You once again cringed at the overwhelming noise, stopping the bile from rising to your throat. You were so confused; why were they laughing? There’s no other logical explanation as to why you felt so sensitive to everything. It felt as if they were screaming right in your ear, you could distinctly smell each of the lingering scents of the cologne that they wore yesterday, you were hyper aware of where each boy stood, being able to feel every single movement of the drop of sweat that traveled from your thigh to your ankle, you could see the tiny individual fabrics of Taehyung’s night shirt. It was all too much.

The only logical explanation your brain could come up with was that someone had snuck into your bedroom to assassinate you, tried to drug you and when that process was taking too long, set your bed on fire.

Yeah. . . that had to be it.

The laughing continued and you thought you were gonna have a stroke. “Why are you so loud?!” you shouted, rubbing your temples to alleviate the headache that was forming. The room fell silent and you sighed in pure relief, leaning back into Jimin’s frame, barely registering the feeling of his arms wrapping around you as you closed your eyes.

As you were taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, you footsteps approaching and you automatically knew it was Namjoon. How? You had no idea. You just knew.

Placing a gentle hand on your arm, you opened your arms and came face to face with Namjoon. Your breath was knocked right out of your lungs. It’s like your were seeing him in ultra 4k HD. You were too stunned to speak.

“(Y/n). . . you need to listen very carefully,” he spoke calmly and clearly and you found yourself entranced by his voice as you nodded. “You weren’t drugged.” you cocked your head to the side in confusion and he wanted to coo at you for how cute you looked in that moment. “We need to tell you something, but we’re going to take you to the living room and sit you down to explain everything, okay?”

You nodded mindlessly as you let yourself be led into the living room. Sitting down on the couch next to Namjoon, he began massaging your knuckles as you looked at the rest of the boys sitting around you. A sharp exhale pulled your attention back to the boy occupying your hand.

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning.”

~ ~ ~

Kim Namjoon was the son of a merchant. Selling goods abroad internationally, his father sold things from exotic spices to valuable Jewelry. Namjoon worked alongside his father in their little shop, always examining every treasure his father brought home as if it were a gift from a deity. He loved it.

As time moved along, his father enlisted the help of six others boys, as his father was getting older in age and wasn’t able to get things done as quickly as he was used to. The six boys were practically strangers to each other and Namjoon, but they kept things polite and introduced themselves as Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook. They kept things professional, only talking to each other to discuss items that were to be imported and exported. Anyone visiting the shop could sense how tense the poor boys were. It’s not like they hated each other though, they were just complete strangers to each other, not being comfortable enough to have a conversation that wasn’t about business.

Until it happened; All seven boys were just hauling back some goods they got from trading in Africa, when they were checking the different seasonings and spices they got back. They could practically recite the list in their sleep, always seeing the same ingredient on the list every time, but not this time. As Yoongi read off the list to Hoseok to make sure they were all accounted for, he stopped short when he read an unfamiliar name. “Huh, this is a new one,” he stated, his tone nothing short of bored.

That was when Jin walked past them, looking into the crate to see the foreign seasoning. “Well it’s about time we got something new. I was so bored with the same old stuff, I’m glad we’re spicing things up a bit.”

It was silent for only three seconds before the sound of squeaky laughter filled the room as Jin proceeded to laugh at his own terrible punny joke. Soon the others joined in with laughing. Some were laughing at the joke, some were laughing at Jin’s laugh, but they were all laughing together. They even cracked more jokes to keep the laughter from dying out. It took them twice as long to get their job done that day as they kept having to stop from doubling over in laughter.

After their jobs were done and it was time for them to go home, they found that they didn’t want to go home just yet. So when Taehyung had asked if they wanted to go and hangout at his house for some drinks, they all almost immediately said yes. And they spent the night drinking, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

They were inseparable after that, finding any excuse to hang out with one another. And soon the friendly feelings turned into something more . . . intimate. Lingering touches and longing gazes became less and less subtle the more time the boys spent with each other. Until one day, Jimin just walked up to Yoongi and placed a big fat kiss right on his lips. And then proceeded to do it to the remaining five boys. They were ecstatic that someone had finally taken initiative as they were all too chicken to do it themselves.

So, the kisses and lingering hugs and more. . .promiscuous acts became more and more frequent. As the years passed, their bonds only became stronger, and as Namjoon’s father officially passed down the business to him to retire, they felt as if they were thriving. One day, the boys were to travel to the Middle East in order to pick up some stock and bring it back to Korea. It was no big deal to them as they have done it countless of times before.

Just as they were finishing up their transaction, they began to explore the village for an inn that they could stay at for the night before heading back. They stopped at a stand, buying various types of foods, their stomachs practically roaring to be fed as they smelled the delicious food. Just as they were about to head back to their inn, they spotted three small children; a girl and two boys, wandering around the market as if lost. But that wasn’t what caught the boys’ attention. They looked absolutely starving.

They watched as the little children begged many people for food only to either be ignored or to be rudely told to leave. One man even shoved the poor girl when she asked him for an apple. The seven men watched in shock at the display, observing the way the children’s shoulders slumped as they continued walking. As they got closer, Namjoon observed the amount of food in his hands before ultimately coming up with a decision. He could buy more food.

Stepping up to the three children, he squatted down to their level, holding out the bag of food to them. They looked at him warily, but he persisted, giving them a kind smile as the girl slowly reached up and took the bag. Soon enough the rest of the boys were doing the same, handing off their bags of food to the two small boys. The three children stood in shock, staring up at them with wide curious eyes before launching themselves onto Namjoon, effectively tackling him in a hug. They did the same to the rest of the group and the boys don’t think they’ve ever smiled this hard before, but as they watched the children run off excitedly with their meals, they felt a fluttering in their hearts.

Later on that night as they all got their rest, after buying more food and eating their dinner, Jungkook was slipping in and out of consciousness. He didn’t know why, but he had the strangest feeling that someone was watching them.

It wasn’t until he opened his eyes and shifted in his bed did he see three pairs of glowing eyes staring directly at him.

The poor man almost went into cardiac arrest.

Upon discovering the three watchers, Jungkook let out a less than manly scream, alerting the six other sleeping figures in the room as they all jerked awake at the noise, trying to get their bearings as they also caught sight of the three figures in the room.

Cue more screaming.

It wasn’t until the three figures stepped into the moonlight filtering through the window did the screaming cease. The three children stood before them, close lipped smiles adorning their faces. Even though they stopped screaming, they were still pretty freaked out, staring at the three children for some sort of explanation.

“We would like to thank you for your kind gesture,” said the female child, holding up her hand to stop any protests or screams from the 7 adults looking at her in fear. “But let us introduce ourselves first.”

With that being said, the girl and two boys looked at each other, before looking back at the boys. A light began to illuminate their figures, completely engulfing them, and if that weren’t enough to freak the boys out, the children’s skin began to melt off their bodies and drop down on the floor with a wet plop.

Once the light subsided, the children were gone and in their place stood three ethereal beings smiling down at them fondly. The 7 boys looked on in astonishment. staring at the beings in awe.

“Hello,” the female being started. She was absolutely gorgeous with glowing golden skin and black hair pulled back away from her face. Her body was adorned in necklaces, bracelets, and rings, all glimmering in the moonlight. “My name is Kaikha. And these are my brothers Shasme and Ghokhero.”

Shasme had blazing red skin, black hair framing his face and jewelry covering his body as well, sporting a whole extra set of arms. Ghokhero was a pale blue, completely bald, and only sporting golden bracelets on both wrists. The three stood - actually floated, as the boys looked down and found they have no feet - waiting for a reaction that didn’t come as the boys were stunned to silence.

“If you have not figured it out yet, we are those three children you saw in the market. And we are so grateful, we would like to thank and repay you for your acts of kindness.” Shasme said, chuckling as the boys were still to shocked to speak. Kaikha, Shasme, and Ghokhero began walking towards the seven boys, placing a hand on each boy, speaking in unison.

“We bless you with the gift of granting others what their hearts desires. May you bring happiness and humility to the world in the many years to come.” Their palms glowed bright, nearly blinding the boys as the light later faded. The three deities looked at the boys with pleased smiles on their faces. “Your act of kindness gave us hope in this dark world. It needs more people like you.”

And with those last parting words, the three beings were gone in the blink of an eye. . .

~ ~ ~

You stared at the boys around the room, trying to process the information they had just bestowed upon you.

“And after that, we went back to Korea as if nothing happened. We vowed to keep it a secret so no one would take advantage of our powers. And because of this, we were able to grant your wish last night.” Taehyung concluded, having a vice like grip on Jimin’s hands. He was nervous about your reaction.

It took a moment to collect your thoughts, but the first question that came out of your mouth was - “Wait, how old are y’all?”

“Uhm, a couple thousand years old.” Jin answered, and your jaw dropped. You shook your head, trying to wrap your head around it all. “Ok, let me get this straight: You seven men, are actually immortal beings from Ancient Korea who were regular merchant boyfriends until one day, an act of kindness got you noticed by three Middle Eastern gods and they were so impressed by you, they gave the gift of granting wishes which apparently had the side effect of immortality and now fast forward to today, you guys are 7 of the most famous men in the world and no one knows about your secret except for you and me and now I have superpowers over a mindless wish I made after watching a Marvel movie?”

They mulled over your brief explanation before nodding as you heard variations of “yes” “yep” and “yeah, pretty much.” Another long beat of silence took over as you took in and processed this revelation.

“That is so. . . cool!”

A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as we learn how the boys got their powers in the first place. I don’t know how I feel about that backstory, but I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think. How do you feel about their backstory? How do you think the story will turn out? I’d love to hear your feedback!

#bts x reader #bts x you #ot7 x reader #bts jimin #bts jhope #bts jin #bts suga #bts namjoon #bts taehyung #bts jungguk #bts series #bts imagine #bts smut

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kd-holloman · 5 years

Text

The Traveler’s Gift Deleted Scene III

The church was stifling hot in the early July heat.

Louis was dressed in his Sunday finest pressed elbow-to-elbow among the packed congregation with his brother, James, and his sister, Eleanor. His father gave his sermon from the altar in the front while his mother sat at Eleanor’s side with James’s son, Michael, in her lap.

It felt wrong to be in church. In fact, Louis wasn’t even sure why he continued to go to church every Sunday. He didn’t even know if he believed in God anymore.

How could a God who supposedly “loved” all of his children allow such horrible things like The Great War happen? How could he let innocent women and children die in the face of something horrible?

Supposedly, God forgave people for their sins when they ask for absolution and swore their lives to him. But how could God forgive Louis for his sins? It wasn’t just about the men he’d killed in the war. He’d killed men right here in Chicago. He’s broken the law, stolen money, and had a role in the murder of others.

How could God forgive him when he was sitting next to his younger sister with a loaded gun under his jacket, a knife in his sock, and a flask full of whiskey in his breast pocket?

How could God forgive him when he was ready to shoot and kill someone who wanted him dead because of his boss’s reputation?

The woman from France had told him he’d had a “gift”. Although Louis was more accustomed to his gift and the pain that came with it, he still wasn’t sure if it was a gift or not. After all, it did get him wadded up with murderers and thieves.

The rest of the congregation was in a hurry to get out of the stagnant air inside of the church. Louis wasn’t far behind them. He pecked his mother and sister on the cheek before shaking hands with his brother and father, then headed out to get some fresh air.

The sun was relentless on the pavement, but a slight breeze coming off of the lake made it more bearable.

Louis pulled off his wool cap and dragged his sleeve across his forehead before lighting a cigarette. He didn’t make it two steps down the sidewalk when Javier pulled up in the car he’d bought recently.

“Pretty-boy!” Javier called out to him, an impish grin on his tanned cheeks. “Get in the car!”

Louis smiled back at his friend and shook his head a little before sliding onto the front seat with him. He knew Javier’s arrival meant that the boss probably had a job for him. That didn’t stop him from asking, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“The boss has a job for us,” Javier explained. He expertly navigated the car from the curb to the street.

Louis sucked in a breath tinged with smoke. He exhaled it slowly. He watched the church disappear behind them, a sense of wrongness in his chest. He ignored it. It was part of the job. “Does it involve murder?”

“After that mess with Smith? Fuck, no! Boss probably wants to lay low for a few days, y’know?”

“Where are we going?”

“One of the distilleries needs some maintenance. If figure if anyone can get it working right again, it’s ‘Mister-Do-Everything’.”

His green eyes went skyward at that comment. Finding work after the war had been tough. He’d done a few different odd-jobs here and there for a couple of bucks.

The Salvatore family has three distilleries throughout the city. They’re all concealed in the depths of factories that Marcello owned shares in. The Italian had a finger in many different pots, but it had paid off for him in the end.

“Why do you keep going to church, anyway?” Javier asked as nearly swerved off the road trying to light his cigarette. “I know how you feel about that place.”

Louis had been raised as a Methodist. His father had been a preacher for as long as he could remember and his mother had played the organ on Sundays until her fingers started to hurt too much for her to continue.

He’d never questioned whether or not there was a God until he’d been sent overseas to fight in the war. His conflicting thoughts about religion had only been intensified by his involvement in the mafia.

Javier cursed out another driver before turning down a narrow street. Then, he let out a loud cackle before jostling Louis with his elbow. “It’s because of your parents, isn’t it?”

The blond shoved him back, but didn’t offer a rebuttal. If it hadn’t been for his family attending church every Sunday he would have stopped going a long while ago.

Up ahead, MacKeeser’s factory loomed over head. The windows set deep into the grimy brick glinted in the afternoon sun, making seem like the building had blinked at them when they arrived.

MacKeeser’s made typewriters. They’d gotten into a tight spot financially during the war and Marcello had bailed them out. Which, was how he’d ended up with forty percent of the company. It also offered him a good cover for manufacturing bootleg after Prohibition had started.

The factory was empty because it was Sunday. Louis was thankful that they didn’t have to ignore the wandering eyes of rubber-necking workers.

Once inside, Louis pulled off his jacket and quickly unbuttoned the only unstained white shirt in his wardrobe. He pulled it off and set it aside, intent on keeping it clean for Sundays.

Working in his undershirt was a fleeting reprieve from the oppressing heat.

He grabbed a wrench from the toolbox and knelt in front of the faulty distillery.

He was sweating before long. The distilleries were kept running by coal-powered furnaces and the barrels of stacked against the walls didn’t allow ample room for air flow.

Javier was good company, however. He had no shortage of things to say and that was fine by him. It kept his mind busy while his hands were occupied by the repairs.

“How’s the kid?” Louis asked as eyed a hammered-out piece of metal to ensure it was straight.

Javier’s mistress had brought a baby girl into the world almost a year ago. Louis had met her once. The baby had been adorable with her smooth brown skin, big dark eyes, and black curls.

“Eh, she’s a kid. He’s starting to walk now and falls on her ass a lot. Funny, she kind of reminds me of you when you’ve had a few too many.”

“Ha-ha.”

Javier licked his lips and looked at Louis, “y’know, I bought a ring.”

The hammer missed its mark and struck Louis in the thumb. He let out a slew of curses and shook his hand. Once the pain had subsided to an irritable throb he looked at his friend again, eyebrows high. “You did what?”

“I bought a ring. I’m going to ask Lizzie to marry me.”

Louis was a little shocked at this revelation. Javier had never been the kind to sit idly by when there were frisky women wanting attention. Yet, having a daughter had changed the man. The change was subtle, but Louis had noticed it throughout the past year. He smiled at his friend, “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. Hey, when are you going to tie the knot?”

He shrugged. He knew he was getting older, but he wasn’t interested in settling down just yet. He met with women at the speakeasies. They had a bit of fun, but none of them seem too interested in getting married either. Besides, having a family and being involved in the mob created vulnerabilities and made it dangerous.

A wife and children were good leverage for somebody who wanted to get back at you or your employer.

“It’s because you’re a lone wolf, eh?” Javier teased.

Louis gave him a playful shove and smeared grime across this tan cheek. “If that’s what you want to call it. Let’s get this thing put back together. I don’t feel like being here all night.”

Putting the newly-fixed parts back together wasn’t nearly as complicated as repairing them. They were just finishing up when Marcello’s brother, Eddie, strolled in.

He shared similar facial features with his brother, but as far as their builds were, the two of them were very different. Ed was tall and thin, where his brother was short and squat. Both of them were formidable forces when it came to running “the family business”. However, Ed was a little easier to deal with.

“Hey, I know you two would get it up and running again!” Eddie exclaimed when Louis and Javier got to their feet. “Listen, the big boss has a job for you tonight.”

Next to Louis, Javier’s face paled. Javier was a great guy, willing to do anything that was asked of him, but he had a weak stomach when it came to killing.

“Relax. I don’t think it involves killing anybody.”

The shorter man relaxed just a little.

“We caught wind that O’Shea’s people have been caught lurking around a little more than usual. You know we have a big shipment scheduled to steam across the lake, right? Being that it’s the Fourth of July the pigs will be too distracted to be watching out for suspicious exports.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Louis asked, pushing his sweaty blond curls off his forehead and replacing his wool cap.

“We want the two of you to tail a couple of their top guys. We want to make sure that everything goes smoothly tonight. Watch to see what they’re up to report back to us in the morning. See, it’s simple!”

Louis wiped his hands on a rag he’d tucked into his back pocket. He supposed he best head home and get changed. He had a feeling that it was going to be a very long night.

#the traveler's gift #louis elijah mahoney #deleted scenes #writerblr #writeblr #writing

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weirdness-on-the-roof · 6 years

Text

critical role episode 48 campaign 2 notes and funny lines post break edit:this has detailed notes on all the stuff that happened later in the episode including physical descriptions near the end. enjoy ya nerds

don’t steal the books from a high powered mage; don’t kill the dude; beau turning into cad; look at beau planning for the future

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is marisha flirting with matt via matt playing yasha and beau flirting with yasha?

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‘tea the international language’ but no earl grey

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wensworth the goblin

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coming from Cad ‘im a fine tea maker’ is kinda a threat tbh

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elf that isn’t white/European??? yay! also really old elves are cool

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beau and cad tag teaming a political chat with a mage this can’t end poorly

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Nott: :beau ruins every situation shes in and is very abrasive

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send the freaking cat!!! why not?? caleb my dude

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god i miss allura and gilmore currently

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fucking fuck don’t lie to the mage beau plz stop this is painful ‘you’re not wrong’ sure blame the ancient sea god

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‘on the verge of returning’ yea no duh you let him out 2/3 of the way so fjord could get a spell

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‘we found a thing’ so smooth and eloquent beau ‘it was presented to us as the happy fun time ball’

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‘butter fingers with magical items’

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beau getting a geography lesson from a very old powerful elven mage

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‘magical geometric orb that has the ability to bend time and space and fate’ which is kept in a hot pink magic bag that happened to ‘fall into [their] lap’

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‘if youre down im down is what im saying... i have a few slots open in my loyalty bank if you’re willing to pay rent’ says the 20 some human who punches things to the centuries old wizard ‘

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liam stress eating

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cad’s hope in the group is heartwarming

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tower metaphors and a conversation!!!

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caleb reading shitty romance novel and nott eating a fish outside a mage’s tower in the morning sunlight in a major city

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caleb takes the rear

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first name drop and a while

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holy shit 200 years of magic using

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cad explaining materialistic nature of the rest of the party to elf dude is hilarious

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teleportation circles?????? in return for access to the sphere!! oh shit thats good

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or candy

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crap. no one has insight checked this dude and they gave him the happy fun ball and made a deal kinda.

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‘how do we prove our loyalty?’ ‘by not fucking me over’ sounds like a good plan

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is this guy just caleb’s patron now on the low idk this is how my head works and he said learn

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“you have a geometric shape that makes babies?” “yea they talked about that”

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fjord just kills the dude

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‘i got banishment on hold just in case’ *cackling laughter*

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i agree with elf dude, him not knowing anything about the dodecha is more concerning than him knowing about it

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ALL THE CITIES FROM CR1 MENTIONED FOR THE FIRST TIME!!! I STILL MISS ALLURA AND GILMORE

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good to know the pink bag protects from divination on this plane but just this one

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jester and the traveler figurine

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cad included the Traveler in the ‘chaotic forces’ i still think the traveler is some kinda arch fey evil things idk its real late here and this is incoherent

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‘well, thats been my morning tea‘

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caleb getting additional tour

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good aesthetic for the room tbh

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letting weird people in for morning tea is entertainment is a mood and something i strive to be able to do without getting murdered one day

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so yasha and caleb both have gotten the ‘stay with friends’ chat from a powerful being which is nice. but also the ‘use who you need to’ going to caleb is vaguely concerning

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personalized biscuits [bourbon, cinnamon, lobster, fish and three unknowns]

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‘caleb, what happened in there?’

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cad not believing caleb’s bullshit and opening doors for caleb warms my heart

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‘if this isn’t the death of us, and if not hes a good ally. somethings gonna be the death of us so [yolo]’

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‘you can’t bullshit everyone in this world’

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cad talking about beau telling the truth: ‘you’re not very good at it but you tried

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jester looking out for nott and her home town

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caleb and beau being cute while also giving each other shit is the most sibling like thing

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omg going back to allfield that was so long ago for fucks sake BRYCE my person thank god

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jester had a boy band phase its cannon and i think the girls had a sleepover in jester’s old room. also marion never leaves the hotel. THE RUBY NECKLACE MY HEART AND THE HONEY AWWWWW

‘the army of men and women and inbetween that will do as i want them to’ god i adore her being protective of jester

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also the fact matt makes such a good mom why is he like this

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travel time!!!! ‘roll for initiative’-tal

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how does matt keep these notes so organized and remember all the npc names

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the ranger/beast master in Laura is coming out with nugget

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caleb is a devout cat person and jester is the definition of a dog person

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nott refining oil on a magical moving cart, while jester reads a romance novel and trains a dog,

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Dyren- Beau’s roommate at colbot souls; ‘taught beau lots of really cool things’ got sent to a warfront. shaved head, dark clothes, buff b/c ‘been workin out’, ‘do you love her?’ they had ‘good times’, then literal booty call, and dropping locations, Dyren was in Bladegarden. ‘fierce eyebrows, pointed nose’

OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES

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Vandren info drop to Fjord ‘he was making amends’

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Dyren responded and was hurt in Bladegarden but is safe. Beau looked immediately worried and happy about jester’s imput [’sounded way into you’]

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empire kids chat and caleb admitting insecurities about powerful people and being scared about the consequences of his actions and the group’s actions. caleb is scared about being forced to leave for safety and being ‘flayed alive’. my thoughts are he would leave if he became a threat to the others by being there or vise versa. trent would extort that b/c hes a dick

“caleb, unfortunately, you don’t get to choose who cares for you” you’re fucking correct Beau

“the problem with friends is that you have to care for them”

walks away “wow cool caleb! see- jester thinks you’re cool because shes your fucking friend!”

me too Tal “everything i like about those two characters in one conversation”

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5 years since Caleb left Trent and crew ie had a nervous breakdown

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gustav left town after being freed and trostenwald now has a WV accent that is too familiar

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100 extra soldiers in allfield. bryce is still up and kicking and wonderful. stuff ‘got this far east [quickly]’. the attacks came from underground apparently so fuck. the fields were burned, building destroyed a bit then they [Xhorhasians] left

“good thing is they’ve already been attacked so lightning doesn’t strike twice” oof thanks bryce

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beau just dead ass asking for illegal writing statements

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fjord having a thank u jesus bryce moment

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jester giving cad a pretty present is ‘so exciting’ and precious

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Cad not knowing cookbooks were a thing!!! and not being utterly literate enough to understand it

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wtf happened to liam’s voice in the ‘main export is oysters’ thing

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FELDERWEN!!!!!

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a dozen squads of 50 ppl each patrolling felderwen area so rippppp

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Nott knows where the halfing’s house is.... interesting... and is heavily drinking

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BLUE FLASH

elven woman in fine clothes of green and black ----lady vest durogna the arch mage of antiquity serboros assembly

a male figure in deep blue robes, older pale elf, fine clothes, the flash came from him----- martinette luden’th de____ arch mage of domestic protection

CALEB KNOWS THEM BOTH FROM THE ACADEMY AHHHHHH

he just lays flat and hides in the cart internally: ‘nopenopenopenope’

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several burned buildings, a warehouse, an inn, apothecary and several houses

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ohhhh shit the halfling was the owner of the apothecary and nott was looking for the shit she had been sending back this whole adventure....... im sad now that was confirmed

havent found a body of yeza

luke is yeza’s son at old edith’s house

halflings only produce halflings according to something i read at some point but forget where sooooooooo

shattered vials and materials and house stuff

CHILDREN'S TOYS

locked basement which nott knows of?? Nott is anxious and impatient when the door doesn’t open. jester fails, yasha rages and at a 19 and doesn’t break the door. ‘it wasn’t [trapped]’ but dispel magic worked to open it.

a 15′x15′ room, tossed ‘not like you remember’ to nott, a 2x3 iron chest. a single chair in the center of the room. definitely a struggle with heavy impacts and blade scratched on wall

nott was the torturer from the goblin tribe

chair was placed in the spot after the struggle

this was where he [yeza] kept chemicals according to nott

poisoned iron locked box (dull black glass) inside a retractable silver tripod to hold something atop it, 3 empty vials 1 full one with a liquid/gas fog like dull colored thing, a pile of destroyed notes [two pieces of still legible paper which have props]

dunamous field, causes ppl slow to be slower or faster, ‘captured crin operatives’ dunaments and dunamacy, origon gliffs, exist outside established schools of magic, theory in deeply rooted in arcana taken for granted, rooted in _____ town, 12-16 months to refine, word has found me that trent’s kiddos have knacks for this things, dreams are thrilling

well shittttt

crin on battle fields, ‘breaking fields of fate, fuck the raven queen

SHIIIIIT

a piece of dunemous

dodecha goes in tripod according to beau

chair facing chest

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cricks did this apparently

a little under 100 crowns guard killed, 4 civilians burned

soldiers just ‘slowed down’

left via tunnels and collapsed them behind them

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nott dont be a bitch and don’t get mad at caleb and call them ‘his people’

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cad picks up caleb and ‘youre not at fault here, youre the solution here. don’t let her anger... its not about you’

my HEART

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the chest is too big for the haver sack but fits in lorenzo’s bag of holding

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people have entered and exited since the attack and left the chair and stuff

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lots ‘o chairs

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nott needs to see ledith and uke (?) and not flip the fuck out

‘humble hobble’

nott looked like halfling plump face, braids, tan skin

edith- human older, grey hair, beady eyes, ever present smile like face

LUKE IS HER SON!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CANNON

*edit- rewatching this and seeing ever one’s faces “wheres my son?!” particularly laura/liam/travis just hurt. liam just looked up after a second and travis did his face he does and laura just stiffened and eyes and hand to face. caleb/liam who knows just hugs himself the rest of the convo. marisha is note taking and fuck the video off now

about 5 yrs old, blue eyes, tan/light brown skin, halfling

gave him the doll of the king

IM GONNA CRY NOW BYE

‘HES PROABLY DEAD NOW TOO LIKE I THOUGHT YOU WER’

yenza locks him away when ‘the mean lady comes by’

mean lady has pointy ears and comes often, luke was kept in room, luke was pushed out of the house and told to go somewhere safe so he ran to edith’s house and ‘everything was on fire’

‘im not strong enough to come back yet but know that [im stll thinking of you and i send things] and i hope dad sends them to you.“ fuck my heart

“in my heart i think he is” “well don’t die”

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the elves are gong to the ruins of yenza’s house

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marisha looked so betrayed

tal ‘i was waiting for the riegel shoe to drop’

WOW

HEY CALEB- WOOOW

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we’ll pick up hiiiere

fuck you sam and matt and everything abou this my heart is just FUCKKK

ummm so enjoy the frantic poorly taken notes <3

#critical role spoilers #spoilers #lore drop #ohh shit #fuck you sam #not okay in the slightest why are you like this #i dont have words at this point

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ellanainthetardis · 6 years

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Twelve, its landscapes, its graveyards and its victors... Let me know your thoughts!

[ff] or [ao3]

Chapter 51 : Lifeline

Haymitch wasn’t really aware of shaking off Effie’s arm but he was alone when he advanced in the narrow path between the freshly new dug graves. There were always new graves in the graveyard, that was the thing. Twelve wasn’t a huge District and lifespan wasn’t long. He had often wondered if there would come a point when the balance would tilt and there would be more dead people than newborns, if they would go extinct. Not that the Capitol would let that happen. They would move people from other Districts, the coal mines were too precious to be abandoned.

The graveyard was closer to the woods than to the town, almost overlooking the Seam, and it was more difficult to ignore the memories of the arena there. He licked his lips and buried his trembling hands in the pockets of his brand new coat, trying hard not to think that that coat was probably warmer than any blanket a family in the Seam could afford

Tombs were pretty simple in Twelve. The only fancy ones were the victors graves and he carefully didn’t look in that direction for now. Stone was too expensive, even for people from town, and most of the time, families made do with a simple wooden cross or a huge boulder, coffins were already an extravagance. With snow covering everything it was hard to keep track on what – or who – he was stepping on.

It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for, though.

The grave was unassuming, lost between two others just as insignificant in appearance. There was a wooden cross that was dangerously tilting to the left and that he straightened by the force of habits. It had been a while since he had come there. The carvings on the wood were nearly faded.

He was hyper aware of Effie standing two feet behind him and he felt stupidly self-conscious. He didn’t even know what he was doing there truth be told. He had come a lot at first, in the months following his first victory, then he had stopped coming because there was nothing for him there. The grave was just a grave. They were dead and nothing could change that.

He hadn’t even been there to bury them.

Space was always a problem in the graveyard. There had been talks of starting another one on the other side of the District but they had never gotten the green light from the Capitol or something. It seemed so surreal to have to secure permission from bureaucrats at the other end of the country to bury their dead… If he had died as planned… If Effie had managed to get in touch with Undersee… They would have put him in there with them. They would have dug up the grave and tossed his coffin in there and added his name on the cross and they would finally have been reunited and…

And he had survived them.

Again.

It was jarring to realize he had spent more time alone than with them. It was jarring to realize in a few years he would be older than his mother had been when she had died.

He outstretched his arm behind him, reaching for he didn’t know what.

At least until a hand slipped in his and he felt her come to rest against his side, warm and alive.

“Hello.” she said brightly, because of course she was that sort of people who talked to graves. Of course. It made him smile despite it all. She was just so… Effie. She must have caught his amusement because she frowned. “What is it?”

He shook his head and pressed a kiss against her forehead just because he could. “Never change, sweetheart.”

She seemed a bit puzzled by that but dismissed it, leaning heavily against his side. “Do you think they would have liked me?”

His instinctive answer was no because he hadn’t even liked her at first and she was an escort. They might have grown to be alright with it but he doubted it would have been a love at first sight kind of thing.

“You’re an acquired taste.” he deadpanned and got his arm whacked for his trouble. She immediately winced in pain and glared at her injured hand as if it had personally insulted her. They needed to take care of it, wrap it before it could swell. He gave a last glance at the grave, not feeling much of anything. He missed them, that was the thing, but it was a pain he carried around everywhere and all the time, not something he felt specifically when he was standing in front of their last resting place. It was hard to say what his family would have thought of his life choices. He hoped they would have understood. He wasn’t foolish enough to think they would have been proud but he hoped they would have understood. “Let’s go.”

She hesitated. “Do you mind if… I would like to visit the victors patch.”

He shrugged, a bit reluctant but unwilling to refuse her that much. He led the way.

Katniss’ grave would have been hard to miss even without him as a guide.

The victors patch was nothing more than a somehow empty spot at the left end of the graveyard where tombs actually looked like mausoleums. Twelve’s only victor before him hadn’t lasted long, he wasn’t sure what the man had died of but his grave had been there for as long as Haymitch could remember and was starting to crumble because nobody cared enough to take care of it. Katniss’ was brand new and clearly regularly seen to.

The snow had been cleared from the white marble and it was hard to miss her name in golden letters, the dates or the proudly displayed Victor of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. That was standard, he figured. There were two marble slabs placed on top that had clearly been exported from the city and he wondered how much of that had been Effie’s doing. One of them was engraved with a sober ‘Beloved Daughter, Beloved Sister’, the other had a picture and a single ‘Beloved’. It was so obviously from Peeta that Haymitch’s heart clenched. Someone had also placed a bow and an arrow on top of the grave – that was most likely the Hawthorne boy.

He hung back while Effie approached, not quite sure he had any right to be there at all. The corpse in that tomb was only there because he had fucked up. He should have gotten from under that tree more quickly. He should have protected Katniss better. He should have been the one getting his head split in two. He should have…

“Hello, dear.” Effie whispered, placing her hand at the edge of the grave. Her fingers were quivering and Haymitch averted his eyes, staring at a bird hopping around a few feet away. “I miss you very much.” Effie’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath. “I am so very sorry.”

He knew she was crying and it was too much for him.

He turned on his heels and stalked out of there, only breathing again once he had passed the graveyard gates. He had always found it very ironical that they were so similar to the Village’s. He leaned his back against the stone wall and felt around his pockets by reflex, looking for the packet of cigarettes he always seemed to carry around nowadays because he was apparently unable to live without poisoning himself. They were empty. He kicked the wall with a curse and rubbed his eyes.

Fuck but he missed the girl. He missed her so fucking much.

He had been clinging to his guilt for so long that it was all he had let himself feel. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her. He hadn’t realized how much…

His eyes were red when Effie finally walked out of the graveyard but if she noticed, she didn’t comment. Perhaps because her mascara was a bit smudged.

“We should go to the Village.” she suggested as if nothing at all had happened, sounding cheerful and just as bubbly as that new escort except it sounded extremely fake to his ears. “Or did you want to look around the Seam?”

“The Village’s good.” he muttered.

They walked fast and in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

The Victors’ Village was the same as ever and he felt the same dread walking past the gates as he always had before. It had been a prison for a long time. A self-appointed one, perhaps, but a prison nonetheless.

The fountain was still there, still broken.

The same stray tabby cat disappeared behind the corner of a house at their approach.

The grey sky still looked as if it was about to come down and swallow them whole and he still wasn’t sure it wouldn’t be a good thing.

The streets were deserted and empty and depressing.

“Haymitch!”

The voice was too young and too girly to belong to Peeta. It took him aback and he turned around just in time to see Prim drop her school bag and rush toward him.

He braced himself for the attack, certain little fists would soon barrel into him and harsh words would be shouted – and he wouldn’t deny her, he had no right to deny her.

He braced himself but he was unprepared for the collision and he stumbled back, almost falling down on his ass. He caught her because he didn’t want her to hurt herself even if she was bent on hurting him. He thought that was what she was trying to do at first, strangle him. It took him a couple of minutes to realize she was actually hugging him.

And when he understood that…

He hugged back. Too hard probably but she didn’t protest, she simply buried her face in his neck, he could feel her cold nose against his skin. He thought she might have been crying a little too but he was too stunned to do more than hold her.

He met Effie’s eyes over the girl’s shoulder, adjusting his grip on her so she wouldn’t fall because her feet were dangling a few inches over the ground. His escort didn’t look particularly surprised but she was teary and she hastily looked away.

“Why didn’t you come back?” Prim asked after a moment.

“I…” he hesitated. “It’s complicated, sweetheart.”

“Peeta says you thought we would hate you.” the girl insisted, letting go of his neck. He made sure her feet were back on the ground before letting go, pulling a little on one of her braids by reflex. She batted his hand away just like old times and it was so… odd.

“Don’t you?” he cringed, confused.

Maysilee’s family, his old friends… Nobody had wanted anything to do with him after his Games.

Prim studied him with eyes that were far too old and wise for her age. She looked sad and tired. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Effie had said it on countless occasions.

Peeta had said it a couple of times.

Alina had tried to make him understand.

But it wasn’t until he heard it from Katniss’ sister’s lips that he thought he might eventually believe it.

And damn it if his eyes weren’t burning again.

“I missed you.” Prim declared, sneaking her arms around his waist and hugging him once more. “Don’t disappear like that again. You’re family. She would never have wanted… You’re family, Haymitch.”

He hugged her tight again, feeling more humbled and grateful than he had ever felt before in his long life. That girl… She was something. He understood only too well why Katniss had been ready to give her life for her.

After a few minutes, Effie discreetly cleared her throat.

Prim startled and moved away from him, wiping her cheeks to greet the Capitol properly. It was a lot more subdued but the girl seemed happy enough to see her – what he got from the conversation was that Effie had been sending a lot of care packages to Twelve in the last few months and that the care packages involved clothes and girly stuff nobody really needed.

But that was Effie’s attempts at comforting a young girl, he supposed.

“Let’s go home.” Prim declared, grabbing his sleeve and not leaving him much of a choice in the matter.

“You still live here?” he frowned. He hadn’t thought they would have been allowed. In fact, he had been fairly sure Thread would have showed up as soon as Katniss died to chase them out of the Village.

“Prim and Mrs Everdeen live with Peeta now.” Effie informed him, sounding a bit put out. “Do you even listen to me when I talk?”

To be honest, he tended not to when she talked about Twelve. She called Peeta regularly, he knew that much, but since it upset him, she tried not to do it when he was around. And when she talked about it… He didn’t always pay attention.

He wasn’t that surprised though. Peeta was a good boy. He wouldn’t have let Katniss’ family starve in the Seam.

“Mom’s sick again.” Prim informed him. “She might act as if you’re not there. Don’t mind her.”

Sick was a nice euphemism for depressed, he was sure. He wasn’t certain he was ready to find himself face to face with Aster Everdeen. He had planned on avoiding it if he could help it.

It might have been the coward’s way out but he stopped dead in the middle of the street. The girl was looking at him expectantly, as if she didn’t really understand why the delay. Haymitch’s grey eyes darted around…

“I… I want to check my house first, yeah?” he said, jumping on the first excuse he could find. “You go ahead, sweetheart. I’ll catch up.” He saw Effie pursing her lips but he wasn’t in the mood for her lectures so he waved her off. “You too. I’m just gonna…”

“I will go with you.” she cut him off. “You said you would tend to my hand anyway.”

“The kid can do that.” he countered, looking at Prim. “She hurt her hand, you can take care of it, yeah?”

“I would rather you do it.” Effie insisted before the girl could agree.

Prim’s gaze traveled from the escort to the victor and then she forced a smile. “I have to go home or Peeta is going to worry. I’ll tell him you’re here. Don’t be too long. We can have tea! I think he baked some lemon cakes this morning.”

“Lemon cakes, how lovely!” the escort exclaimed, gently ushering the girl in the direction of Peeta’s house. “We won’t be a tick.”

They were more than a tick and he was annoyed with her. He glowered all the way to his house and scowled when he realized he didn’t have his keys – not that he should have cared about that because the front door was open, just like he had left it when he had left on the day of the Reaping.

It had been six months. He expected his house to be dusty and smelly.

It had never been as clean or fresh. It felt a little like walking into it for the first time when everything had been so impersonal and cold.

“Peeta pays your housekeeper so she keeps coming. He employs her too now, I believe.” Effie explained without needing his prompting. “I think he was trying to do something nice for Katniss’ friend.”

He couldn’t really protest that, now, could he? Hazelle sure needed the money.

The living-room, the kitchen… Even his bedroom… Every room he walked in felt foreign. The stuff was his but it was too clean, too tidy. He liked his chaos. He liked that he had managed to make Effie’s apartment a little more disorganized.

This house he had never really managed to call home was not even his house anymore.

He would grab his books, he told himself, because they were the only things of value he had left and then he would never put a foot back in there.

The first aid kit was in the bathroom where he had left it the last time. He found a salve of something that should do well enough for her bruised hand and grabbed her wrist without much care. He wasn’t gentle either when he rubbed it in.

She didn’t complain.

It irked him up all the more.

Her behavior had been stupid in the first place and he was still furious about that. She was reckless like she never used to be. It was dangerous. They couldn’t afford reckless moves anymore.

He wrapped her hand in gauze, making sure her thumb was secured, and then he glared at it instead of letting go. He had known coming back to Twelve would be difficult but it was worse than he had thought. He longed for the city and its pretences, the easy distractions and the loathing he could bathe in because those people were ridiculous and it was easier to judge. But was he so different from them when he had left his home behind for…

Effie was suddenly in his space, her mouth brutally crashing on his… It didn’t take much more than that for him to give a shape to his anger. The kisses were violent. He bit down on her bottom lip hard enough that he tasted blood and she reciprocated by digging her teeth in the soft flesh under his jaw. The pain was sharp, almost too thrilling.

He shoved her against the wall.

She grabbed the coat he had never taken off and tugged him closer but he didn’t want to play by her rules. It only took him a second to clasp her wrists high above her head, pinning her in place with his hips while he unbuttoned her coat so he felt less like he was about to fuck a polar bear.

Fucking Capitols.

“I hate you.” he snarled and she drew in a sharp breath. When was the last time he had told her that? Months. A year. More? The words hurt but that was good. She should hurt. He had survived for her. He had branded himself a traitor for her. He had given up on everything he was, everything he stood for. He…

He kissed her hard, tightened his grip on her wrists, slipped a leg between hers… He groaned when she sucked on his tongue, getting lost in the way she was grinding against his thigh, searching for friction, searching for… He brought his leg up, propping his knee against the wall, pressing his thigh against her core to the point it must have been uncomfortable, preventing her from rubbing herself on him, keeping her in place.

He liked that she never simply surrendered. He liked that he had to earn that. He liked that sometimes she just refused to give in until he had thoroughly fucked her and even then she wanted to be in charge because she was just that bossy. There were days when he humored her, let her play with him like she wanted. Today wasn’t one of those days.

He searched her eyes, looked for any hint that she didn’t want this because he was wary of hurting her, always wary… But she didn’t look afraid or reluctant. She was always game, that was the thing with Effie, she always wanted to please him. Sometimes, he thought she would never protest, not even if he took it too far.

“I want your lipstick on my dick.” he stated.

She shivered, either aroused by his crudeness or by the prospect of him walking around all afternoon with that ugly shade of peach on his privates. He let go of her wrists, stepped back, and watched her sink to her knees without a second of hesitation.

She struggled with his pants and he undid them for her, not gone enough to risk her hurting her hand further. Then her mouth was there, warm and wet, and he closed his eyes, stumbled back until he could lean against the sink, forcing her to crawl forward to follow him.

He had planned on fucking her mouth mercilessly so he surprised himself when he didn’t grab her wig. Clearly, it surprised her too.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” she hummed, giving him a teasing lick from base to head.

He told her. And every time he asked for something, she did it without question.

“Good girl.” he whispered from time to time, because that was what he always said when they were playing it rough and she was that submissive. He was fooling himself into thinking he was in charge at that moment though. She could have easily had him flat on his back and he would have let her ride him. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know… “Swallow.” he demanded, knowing she wouldn’t mind, knowing also that if she didn’t want to she would simply move back. She didn’t though. She took him whole in her mouth, almost choking when he finally came.

She coughed when he pulled out, quickly wiping her mouth on the back of her good hand, because there was one thing she hated and it was him seeing her drooling. Not sexy at all, she had claimed once. It was in a way, though. There had been a time when he had loved to make her drool around his dick, to fuck her mouth so hard tears would come to her eyes… It had made him feel powerful to fuck the Capitol. It still did to some extent and… It troubled him how violent and cruel his urges toward her sometimes got.

He pulled her up to her feet and embraced her tight.

Why was he still using her like that?

She meant so much to him. She meant everything. And yet there he was, using her to pass his frustration on… If his mother had still been alive, if she had known how he was treating his wife…

Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? She wasn’t just his escort anymore, hadn’t been for a long time, and he had put a ring on her finger and… You simply didn’t treat your wife like that. Not in Twelve. In the Capitol maybe but he wasn’t Capitol. Unless he was. Unless they had changed him so much that…

“It’s alright, darling.” she hummed, her good hand combing through his hair. “I enjoyed it.”

He didn’t think she was lying but he wondered how she could enjoy it. She deserved better. More.

“Tell me what you want.” he mumbled in her neck.

“Nothing.” She frowned, he heard it in her voice. “We really should…”

“No.” he cut her off. “Tell me what you want. Please.”

He would have dropped to his knees if she had ordered. He would have eaten her out or fingered her or anything she asked for. He didn’t like it when she got him to submit but maybe at that moment he needed it, needed her to take control, needed to make this even because…

He really didn’t want to be the brute who took and never gave.

He was dysfunctional but he didn’t want to be an asshole.

She relaxed in his arms and he tightened his embrace, planting soft kisses along the side of her neck.

“Tell me you love me.” she requested softly.

Here, in that house, those words were more difficult to utter. He hadn’t quite become used to saying them but they came out now and then when they were in her apartment. She said them so liberally, so freely… He had slowly grown comfortable with offering them back. They came out on their own volition sometimes.

They weren’t as frightening as before because they were a pact between them.

He loved her and so he stayed alive.

She loved him and so she stayed alive.

But there, in that house where everything was loneliness, pain and death…

He closed his eyes and breathed her perfume, let her presence soothe the fears he couldn’t quite suppress… He pretended they were elsewhere. At home. And it wasn’t until he had thought the word that he realized that it was what her apartment – their apartment now, he supposed – had become. Home.

“I love you.” he mumbled at long last. “I’m sorry.”

For being a jerk, for being so weak or for taking without giving he wasn’t sure. She could take her pick.

“Do not be.” she chided. “I told you a hundred times already… If I weren’t willing, I would let you know.”

He kissed her hard but not as brutally as before.

“I don’t deserve you.” he muttered awkwardly against her lips, a bit too genuine.

She must have picked up on it but she chose to laugh it off. “And don’t you forget it. Now… Try to make yourself presentable again. We really should go.”

She tried to salvage her smudged make-up while he tucked everything back inside his pants, making sure nobody could tell what they had been up to.

He was a little more relaxed, at least. And yet he remained jumpy even when they left his house to go to Peeta’s. He had prepared himself to see the boy again but the moment the kid opened the door, everything came rushing back.

Promising Peeta he would get Katniss back to him. The axe in Katniss’ head. The blood on his hands.

He hugged the boy back after a second too long, his mind flashing back to the present with a stomach churning speed. Effie was loud and at the top of her flamboyant self, commandeering attention. She was doing it on purpose, he figured, so he could blend a little more in the background, let her handle the situation.

He was grateful for it, even if her high-pitched bubbly act gave him a headache.

Prim appeared around five minutes after Peeta had ushered them to his living-room – so similar to before, it caused Haymitch to lapse again, it made him panic quietly in his corner not to be able to tell when he was, before the Quell, after the Quell… It all blurred together until the teenager put a stop to the ringing in his ears by declaring regretfully that her mother was too tired to come down. Peeta and Prim exchanged a long look but neither of them elaborated on what that meant.

Someone, he suspected the girl, placed a cup of tea in his right hand and a lemon cake in his left. His mind was riveted to the painting that was hanging over the fireplace. It was Katniss in front of a sunset with the woods as a background and Haymitch wondered why Peeta was torturing himself like that, making himself look at her every day, making himself remember when…

His hands were shaking too badly and he spilled some tea on his thigh. It was hot but he didn’t feel the pain, not really.

He did feel it when Effie’s hand casually fell on his leg and rubbed the tension away as if she knew perfectly well what he was thinking. Maybe she did.

He felt remote.

It wasn’t long before the conversation circled back to Katniss.

From small talk to the heavy subjects.

Was six months really enough for the boy and her sister to talk about her so casually? To reminisce about her without feeling that heart crushing pain?

Haymitch couldn’t.

He couldn’t even think about her without wanting to scream.

He woke up at night with her name on his lips, a despair too huge to be borne and a pain in his chest so sharp he often collapsed in Effie’s arms and let her pretend she couldn’t feel his tears burning through her nightgown.

He closed himself off to their voices, refused to listen, refused to laugh with them at how stubborn Katniss had been, refused to share memories, refused to do that thing they called mourning. He didn’t want to mourn her. Once you mourned people, they were in the past. Forgotten. He couldn’t forget her. He couldn’t stop seeing her face. He couldn’t stop…

“And how are you doing, Haymitch?” The question came from Peeta and the boy sounded guarded, almost too formal as if he was talking to a stranger and not to… him. That was his fault, Haymitch supposed, he should make more of an effort. Things between them were… weird.

He realized belatedly that it was the first time he had been addressed directly since he had stepped inside the house. Effie’s hand was still on his thigh and he covered it with his, clinging to her like to a lifeline. That was what she was anyway. His lifeline.

“I’m good.” he forced himself to answer, to lie.

“Are you back on the booze?” the boy asked casually.

“Peeta!” both Effie and Prim snapped at the same time.

“What?” the kid shrugged. “It seems like something I should know. I’m still his mentor, right?”

“That’s enough, I think.” Effie said, a bit cold.

“I ain’t.” he answered, studying the boy, trying to figure out why he was so obviously angry at him. “Took up smoking though.”

“That’s a very Capitol poison to pick up.” Peeta commented, not bothering to hide his resentment anymore. “How are you enjoying living there?”

“It’s not that bad.” he replied defensively. “And it’s far from this shit hole, which is always a plus.” That was harsher than he had intended and he regretted it because Prim looked down, clearly a little hurt by that remark. He squeezed Effie’s hand, grateful when she got the message loud and clear. She got them out of there with a lot of flair and air kisses, making Peeta promise to be ready at seven sharp the next morning for the prep team she would send. Haymitch fumed but kept his peace until they had reached the Village’s gates. “What’s his problem?”

Effie pursed her lips, clearly irritated, but he wasn’t sure it was the boy’s behavior that had annoyed her. “I do not wish to be pulled in the middle. I would rather you work out your problems on your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed and then he shook his head. “It’s all about the girl, anyway. He hates me because…”

“No.” she cut him off firmly. “It has nothing to do with Katniss. Not for him anyway.”

That was all she consented to say on the subject. He was tense and furious once more by the time they reached the train but this time sex didn’t seem like an appealing way of solving the situation. He let her run along to entertain the stylist and the future escort or to make sure everything was ready for dinner because god forbade her schedules went through the window, preferring to retreat to their room – her room, technically.

He needed a shower.

His skin was crawling.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #into that good night

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abyssmalice · 3 years

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drabble: and the end of the story is not here, not there, never will be

You're not supposed to be here.

You're not supposed to be in a lot of places really, but then again, when the Fatui's standards have lowered to the point of having children and adolescents at its highest ranks - perhaps, the definition of who and where aren't what they used to be.

And who's fault would that be now? Your mind wanders, a bored and flighty thing as you gingerly peel a— If it weren't for that 'great' and 'illustrious' Archon, there wouldn't be children in the military and you wouldn't be here wasting your sleep on one of the stupidest things on the planet.

You sigh at the thought. Or try. It comes out as a stretched yawn, little tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Idly, you use the back of your hand to rub the tears out. Something sticky smudges on your cheek in the process, and you can't help the slight grimace as you realize your carelessness there. Ugh, disgusting.

"Just what I need," you mumble with a small, irritable huff. And as if that allowed your mind to refocus, your eyes glance down to observe the captive in front of you - passed out and might be nearing death, though whether it's from the torture or the pain or both, you haven't bothered to pay that much attention now. Actually, you're going to make a bet that it's just plain shock and maybe sepsis.

Though if you've already gotten the idiot to that point, then how long have you been at this? Or maybe they don't have that much of a pain tolerance and it's only been an hour?

You hum thoughtfully, eyeing the hand you had been pulling out fingernails from. You were on the middle finger. The other hand is a bright and crimson and nail-less resource. It usually doesn't take you that long to go about with nails, even when being leisurely, so you'd estimate about two hours thus far? Oh, but you had also shaved off a few toes and broken a few femurs...

"...Bah, this is such a waste of time." You step back, folding your arms as you consider your options. You don't think they're a complete goner, so some treatment later, you could restart this to an extent. But even now, you don't have much to show for your effort - either tight-lipped or had nothing worth saying. It's a gamble of seeing whether pursuing your little mini-mission this way is worth it or not.

You were instructed to do this, your mind supplies, ever so helpful. Their suggestion. Not yours. It's their fault this isn't worthwhile in the least. It's always their fault.

Not that you would have had any better ideas. Interrogating someone would have remained the baseline, considering you need information. This person and this method were the only changeable aspects - the one most likely to have what you need and the fastest way to get people to fess up. Though, if you failed here, it would also be the easiest way to make any further attempts more difficult.

You can't let them return to known and visible society, after all. At least, not with a working tongue. Or limbs that can point at people for accusations, no matter how silent. And if someone like them were to just disappear—oh, what a field trip it will be for the public relations department. Again.

You tap your feet irritably as you go through all the avenues. How annoying. Are you really going to use your brain for something as stupid and worthless and horrible as this?

No choice. Another sigh. No way but forward, again. I'll just toss the corpse into the leylines, see if the memories have anything actually decent to say, and - for the disappearance, it shouldn't be hard to forge something to cover for it. Need to find a document with their signature, find an excuse for an absence...

If I'm remembering right, they've been lobbying for more routes for merchants between the city and the more rural villages, the farmers. Better support for local food networks, my ass - they just wanted to get a headstart on an export business for local specialties. Anyway, good for me, since that meant they've been travelling out to the boonies more and more since.

"—So I can just forge a notice that they went out on another trip to wherever, get one of my better agents to slip it to an assistant, and that should probably do the trick. At least for a few weeks, but by then, it'll be more than enough time to cover up this mess and get some buffer time to say it wasn't us." A satisfied hum. "Yep, that's enough! Time to call it a night here."

You stretch a bit, eliciting another tired yawn, before eyeing the silent victim tied to the chair. On a whim, you kick them - right into their broken knee - and get no response. Only a long, close stare tells you that they're still alive, very barely. Unconsciousness sure is nice, huh? Saves you from almost everything.

Only saves you the pain of experiencing the very end of things. Envy, small and irrational and bitter, every time. Maybe I should wake you up and make you see how it feels to be torn to shreds before dying and being taken by the leylines. Maybe I should. It really isn't fair that you get to stay half-asleep the whole time.

But in the end, ultimately - and you're just going to blame it on being too sleepy to be bothered - you simply untie the binds and hack their head off, swift and clean. The dismembered body is buried by the roots of an outcrop, and you gather all the intel you can. Your plan is put into full motion, everything goes more or less as expected and manipulated, and all is well, all is well.

You go back to playing pranks on your subordinates, and dance around the confused and wary officials now wondering what happened to their missing colleague. You smile, enact property damage, ask for ludicrous and childish things and wow, for a Harbinger, this girl really doesn't care about anything but the pettiest and silliest things, does she?

For a Harbinger, I wonder if she even knows what she's doing? Does the Cryo Archon truly think a child has any wit or power? What does anyone think she can accomplish?

You laugh and laugh at them all as you scribble silly little doodles of sheep and apples on the polished wood of a minister's coffee table. The agent beside you offers the disgruntled man a mere piece of paper, lips pursed and motions silent. The minister reads it with the unveiled impatience of a man who clearly doesn't have kids, before stilling to a pale mockery of the corpse you buried.

"Unless you want to end up like your friend six feet under," a tilt of your head, blue eyes blinking innocently, mockingly, "you better have more to say. I'm tired of playing with boring toys like you all, you know?"

And boring toys, no matter how fun they decide they want to be at the last minute, all have to be thrown out.

But that's obvious, isn't it? So nothing gets said.

The world marches on, same as ever. Rinse and repeat. What a real cog in the machine, huh? Hopefully, you too will become so boring, so annoying, they toss you out and you can take your rightful place in a family picture.

Until then - your place in the world is that of a weapon, a tool for furthering grand ambitions. Not a human with a heart, apparently.

#drabble | (the heart speaks and the soul remembers);#tw: gore #tw: mutilation #tw: torture #(me kicking out the angst: this will fix my brain right)#(my brain REGARDLESS: SUFFERING!!!!!!!!!!!!)#(this was actually gonna be an open but then i just. went ten thousand miles ahead siudcuysdsygd)

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kk-dirge · 3 years

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ef-12: observations so far

clarification: this is about the abandoned fighting game software not the printer

so it was brought up in a discord server im in, and given i liked MUGEN but do not like doing frame by frame animation and also have 3d models of all my ocs, im like ‘wrow this seems cool’

ef-12 is like a 3d MUGEN but much more limited and less documented, so in the server we went and tried to figure it out ourselves.

tl;dr : it feels unfinished but potential is there. also its a pain in the ass but so is MUGEN

if you’re interested it’s been archived here as all the official uploads are now offline

limits i know of so far:

character/stage customization seems to be the selling point, because everything else is... messy

the title screen has no interactable buttons, only ‘press this button/key for x’ prompts’. i dont believe they can be added.

2d scene editing is a NIGHTMARE. if you don’t want to do it entirely trial-and-error in a textfile, you have to use after effects 5.5 (not cs5.5, the actual 5.5 from 2003), which is a pain to get to work, and to top that all off the exported file isnt even complete and you have to input positions and keyframes manually in the text file. also sometimes things arbitrarily just don’t work it’s a mess

i initially thought character count was locked at 12, but apparently someone on a MUGEN forum made a patch for more/less. unsure of how customizable the char select screen is beyond editing the skin as of now

you cannot insert cutscenes in arcade mode :( which was one of the things i liked most in MUGEN. it seems it was intended to be added before the project was dropped

no modification is possible outside of the provided files (i think?), meaning even if i wanted to code in cutscene triggers i couldn’t

just... in general, it relies heavily on dead software for modification

importing a character took a bit to iron out the wrinkles, mostly trial and error regarding file naming. if you’re familiar to rigging to existing skeletons (like from sims, SL) then it’s not too much of a pain if you follow the blender guide. you need an older version of blender to properly export, though (2.66). the bone names and order cannot be changed but can be rearranged i think? but you’d need to make you’re own animations if the rearrangement is too drastic

changing sounds is as easy as swapping files as long as they’re named the same.

haven’t experimented with stages or vfx yet, and the other person in the server on this train is looking at animations.

#shut up zin

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laberintos-espinas · 4 years

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Canadian Medical Marijuana Program History

Maryjane has been utilized as a wellspring of medication for a considerable length of time - a typical therapeutic plant for the people of yore. Indeed, even as innovation turned out to be a piece of how we live, it was viewed as a feasible treatment for some illnesses. Be that as it may, in 1923, the Canadian government restricted maryjane. In spite of the fact that cannabis cigarettes were seized in 1932, nine years after the law passed, it took fourteen years for the principal charge for maryjane ownership to be laid against a person.

In 1961, the United Nations marked a worldwide arrangement known as the Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs, which presented the four Schedules of controlled substances. Weed formally turned into a globally controlled medication, delegated a timetable IV (generally prohibitive).

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Canada's Changing Medicinal Marijuana Laws

The wording of the Convention appears to be clear; countries who sign the bargain must regard cannabis as a Schedule IV sedate with the proper discipline. In any case, a few articles of the bargain incorporate arrangements for the clinical and logical utilization of controlled substances. In 1998, Cannabis Control Policy: A Discussion Paper was made open. Written in 1979 by the Department of National Health and Welfare, Cannabis Control Policy summed up Canada's commitments:

"In rundown, there is significant useful scope in those arrangements of the universal medication shows which commit Canada to make certain types of cannabis-related direct culpable offenses. It is presented that these commitments relate just to practices related with unlawful dealing, and that regardless of whether Canada should choose for keep condemning utilization arranged lead, it isn't required to convict or rebuff people who have submitted these offenses.

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In 2003, the Ontario Court of Appeal started to drive changes to the MMAR. One of these progressions included giving sensible access through endorsed suppliers of a lawful weed flexibly.

In the course of the most recent seven years, researchers have dug further into the capability of restorative weed for use in rewarding sicknesses. At times, cannabinoids have demonstrated the capability of having the option to help fix a couple of sicknesses, which had been believed to be serious. At the hour of this composition, therapeutic maryjane and the cannabinoids it contains has been utilized in inquire about for some, maladies, including malignant growth, different sclerosis, rheumatoid joint pain and Crohn's illness, among others.

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augustxfqh033-blog · 4 years

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Medical Cannabis - Fed Up With Your Prescription Medication? Medicinal Marijuana May Be More Secure

"Marijuana has been used as a resource of medication for centuries - a typical medical plant for the ancients. Even as modern technology entered into exactly how we live, it was considered a feasible treatment for several disorders. Nevertheless, in 1923, the Canadian government cbd willow park banned marijuana. Although cannabis cigarettes were seized in 1932, 9 years after the legislation passed, it took fourteen years for the initial charge for cannabis ownership to be laid against an individual.

In 1961, the United Nations signed an international treaty called the Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs, which presented the 4 Routines of dangerous drugs. Cannabis officially came to be a globally regulated medication, categorized as a timetable IV (most restrictive).

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Canada's Changing Medical Marijuana Rules.

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Also in 1999, Health and wellness Canada created the Medical Marijuana Research Program (MMRP); slowly, Canada's legislations for medicinal cannabis started to change.

- April 1999 study reveals 78% percent support the medical use of the plant.

- May 10th - judge grants AIDS person Jim Wakeford an acting constitutional exception for possession and also cultivation.

- May 25th - Home of Commons passes amended medicinal marijuana movement: ""the federal government must take actions instantly worrying the possible lawful medical use of cannabis consisting of ... medical trials, suitable standards for medical usage, along with access to a secure medicinal supply ..."".

- June 9th - Preacher of Health and wellness announces clinical trials program; individuals who effectively relate to Wellness Canada are exempt from criminal prosecution.

- October sixth - 14 more people obtain unique exemptions to make use of marijuana for medical functions.

youtube

- September 2000 - Federal Preacher of Health and wellness announces government will be expanding medicinal cannabis as well as government laws will be made into law.

- January 2001 - Ontario court states the law prohibiting the growing of medicinal cannabis is unconstitutional.

- April 2001 - Wellness Canada reveals suggested policy for tightly controlled accessibility to medical cannabis.

- August 2001 - Health Canada MMAR (Cannabis Medical Gain access to Rules) go into effect; Canada ends up being the initial nation allowing lawful property of medical cannabis.

Considering that 2001, there has been a steady uphill climb for sufferers of numerous chronic and also terminal diseases. A year after cannabis became legal for medical usage, the Canadian Us senate began pushing for MMAR reform. Others pushed for methods to legally obtain marijuana without having to expand it themselves; several sufferers, such as those with MS, we're incapable to grow the plant because of bad health and wellness.

In 2003, the Ontario Court of Charm began to require changes to the MMAR. One of these adjustments included supplying practical accessibility with approved companies of a lawful cannabis supply.

Over the last 7 years, researchers have dug deeper right into the potential of medicinal cannabis for usage in treating illnesses. Sometimes, cannabinoids have shown the potential of being able to aid treat a few illness, which had actually been believed to be incurable. At the time of this writing, medicinal marijuana as well as the cannabinoids it contains has actually been utilized in research for lots of illness, including cancer, numerous sclerosis, rheumatoid arthritis, and also Crohn's disease, to name a few."

#CBD #cannabis #cannabidiol

0 notes

jaredtsip642-blog · 4 years

Text

Exactly How to Quit Smoking Cigarettes Pot - The 3 Most Important Rules to Ultimately Help You Quit Smoking Cigarettes Cannabis!

"Marijuana has actually been used as a source of medication for centuries - a common medical plant for the ancients. Also as technology became part of just how we live, it was considered a sensible therapy for numerous conditions. However, in 1923, the Canadian federal government prohibited marijuana. Although cannabis cigarettes were taken in 1932, 9 years after the regulation passed, it took fourteen years for the very first cost for cannabis possession to be laid versus an individual.

In 1961, the United Nations authorized an international treaty called the Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs, which presented the four Timetables of controlled substances. Marijuana formally came to be an internationally regulated drug, categorized as a schedule IV (most limiting).

Additionally included in the treaty is a requirement for the member nations to establish government firms in order to control cultivation. Too, the requirements consist of criminalization of all procedures of a scheduled drug, consisting of growing, production, prep work, ownership, sale, shipment, exportation, etc. Canada authorized the treaty with Wellness Canada as its government agency.

As a result of its medical applications, several have actually attempted to obtain cannabis eliminated from the routine IV category or from the routines all together. Nevertheless, since marijuana was particularly stated in the 1961 Convention, the alteration would require a majority ballot from the Commissions' members.

Canada's Altering Medicinal Marijuana Laws.

The wording of the Convention appears clear; countries who authorize the treaty must treat cannabis as a Schedule IV drug with the ideal punishment. Nonetheless, several posts of the treaty include cbd willow park provisions for the medical and also scientific use of controlled substances. In 1998, Cannabis Control Plan: A Conversation Paper was revealed. Written in 1979 by the Division of National Health and Well-being, the Cannabis Control Plan summarized Canada's responsibilities:.

"" In summary, there is significant constructive latitude in those provisions of the worldwide medication conventions which obligate Canada to make certain kinds of cannabis-related conduct punishable offenses. It is sent that these obligations connect just to behaviors associated with immoral trafficking which even if Canada ought to elect to continue criminalizing consumption-oriented conduct, it is not required to found guilty or punish individuals who have dedicated these offenses.

The responsibility to limit the property of marijuana items solely to legally accredited clinical and also clinical purposes describes administrative and circulation controls, as well as although it might require the confiscation of cannabis had without authorization, it does not bind Canada to criminally punish such property."".

The scientific study advanced the medicinal uses of marijuana. In August 1997, the Institute of Medicine began a testimonial to asses the clinical evidence of cannabis and also cannabinoids. Released in 1999, the record states:.

"" The accumulated data suggest a potential therapeutic value for cannabinoid drugs, especially for symptoms such as pain alleviation, control of nausea or vomiting and also vomiting, and also hunger excitement. The restorative results of cannabinoids are best developed for THC, which is usually among both most bountiful of the cannabinoids in cannabis."".

Likewise in 1999, Wellness Canada created the Medical Cannabis Research Study Program (MMRP); gradually, Canada's laws for medical cannabis began to alter.

- April 1999 study reveals 78% percent sustain the medicinal use the plant.

- May 10th - judge grants AIDS patient Jim Wakeford an acting constitutional exemption for possession and cultivation.

- May 25th - Home of Commons passes amended medical cannabis motion: ""the government ought to take actions instantly worrying the feasible lawful medical use of cannabis consisting of ... medical trials, appropriate standards for medical usage, in addition to access to a risk-free medicinal supply ..."".

- June 9th - Priest of Wellness reveals clinical trials program; people who efficiently apply to Health Canada are exempt from criminal prosecution.

- October sixth - 14 even more people obtain unique exceptions to use cannabis for medicinal purposes.

- September 2000 - Federal Minister of Health and wellness announces government will be expanding medicinal cannabis and also government policies will certainly be made into law.

- January 2001 - Ontario court proclaims the legislation prohibiting the farming of medicinal cannabis is unconstitutional.

youtube

- April 2001 - Health Canada introduces proposed law for firmly managed accessibility to medicinal cannabis.

- August 2001 - Wellness Canada MMAR (Marijuana Medical Accessibility Regulations) enter into impact; Canada comes to be the very first country enabling legal ownership of medical cannabis.

Given that 2001, there has been a stable uphill climb for victims of lots of chronic and terminal conditions. A year after cannabis came to be lawful for medical usage, the Canadian Senate started pushing for MMAR reform. Others pushed for ways to legally acquire cannabis without needing to grow it themselves; lots of patients, such as those with MS, we're incapable to grow the plant as a result of bad wellness.

In 2003, the Ontario Court of Allure began to compel modifications to the MMAR. Among these adjustments included providing reasonable gain access to with sanctioned companies of a lawful cannabis supply.

Over the last seven years, scientists have actually dug deeper right into the possibility of medicinal cannabis for use in treating diseases. In some cases, cannabinoids have shown the potential of having the ability to assist cure a couple of conditions, which had been believed to be incurable. At the time of this writing, medicinal cannabis and also the cannabinoids it includes has been used in study for many diseases, consisting of cancer cells, several sclerosis, rheumatoid joint inflammation, as well as Crohn's illness, among others."

#CBD #cannabis #cannabidiol

0 notes

brooksegfz733-blog · 4 years

Text

Exactly How to Stop Smoking Weed - Addiction Activates

"Cannabis has actually been made use of as a source of medication for centuries - an usual medical plant for the ancients. Also as innovation entered into exactly how we live, it was considered a feasible treatment for numerous ailments. However, in 1923, the Canadian government banned cannabis. Although marijuana cigarettes were confiscated in 1932, 9 years after the legislation passed, it took fourteen years for the very first charge for cannabis belongings to be laid against a person.

In 1961, the United Nations signed a worldwide treaty referred to as the Solitary Convention on Narcotic Drugs, which presented the 4 Timetables of abused substances. Cannabis formally became an internationally regulated medicine, classified as a timetable IV (most limiting).

Additionally consisted of in the treaty is a need for the member countries to establish government firms in order to control growing. Also, the requirements include criminalization of all processes of a scheduled medication, including farming, manufacturing, prep work, property, sale, shipment, exportation, etc. Canada signed the treaty with Health Canada as its federal government company.

As a result of its clinical applications, several have tried to get cannabis eliminated from the routine IV category or from the schedules entirely. Nonetheless, because cannabis was especially pointed out in the 1961 Convention, the modification would certainly need a majority ballot from the Compensations' members.

Canada's Changing Medicinal Cannabis Laws.

The wording of the Convention appears clear; countries who authorize the treaty must treat marijuana as an Arrange IV medicine with the appropriate penalty. Nonetheless, numerous write-ups of the treaty consist of arrangements for the clinical and clinical use dangerous drugs. In 1998, Cannabis Control Policy: A Conversation Paper was made public. Written in 1979 by the Department of National Health and Well-being, the Cannabis Control Policy summarized Canada's responsibilities:.

"" In summary, there is substantial constructive latitude in those stipulations of the global medicine conventions which obligate Canada to make certain forms of cannabis-related conduct punishable offenses. It is sent that these obligations connect only to habits associated with immoral trafficking which even if Canada ought to elect to continue outlawing consumption-oriented conduct, it is not needed to convict or penalize persons that have committed these offenses.

The obligation to restrict the ownership of marijuana products exclusively to lawfully accredited clinical as well as clinical purposes describes management and circulation controls, and also although it might require the confiscation of cannabis possessed without authorization, it does not bind Canada to criminally punish such possession."".

The scientific study continued the medical uses cannabis. In August 1997, the Institute of Medication began a testimonial to asses the scientific proof of cannabis and cannabinoids. Released in 1999, the report states:.

"" The accumulated data indicate a prospective restorative value for cannabinoid medicines, especially for symptoms such as pain relief, control of nausea or vomiting and also vomiting, and also cravings excitement. The therapeutic impacts of cannabinoids are best developed for THC, which is typically one of the two most plentiful of the cannabinoids in cannabis."".

Additionally in 1999, Health and wellness Canada produced the Clinical Cannabis Study Program (MMRP); gradually, Canada's legislations for medicinal cannabis began to change.

- April 1999 study shows 78% percent sustain the medicinal use the plant.

- May 10th - court grants AIDS patient Jim Wakeford an acting constitutional exception for property and cultivation.

- May 25th - Residence of Commons passes amended medicinal cannabis motion: ""the federal government should take actions right away worrying the feasible lawful medical use of cannabis consisting of ... medical trials, proper guidelines for clinical use, as well as accessibility to a risk-free medical supply ..."".

- June 9th - Minister of Wellness announces clinical trials program; individuals who effectively relate to Health and wellness Canada are exempt from criminal prosecution.

- October sixth - 14 more people receive special exemptions to utilize cannabis for medical functions.

- cbd willow park September 2000 - Federal Priest of Health and wellness reveals federal government will be growing medical marijuana and also federal guidelines will be made into law.

youtube

- January 2001 - Ontario court states the regulation banning the growing of medicinal marijuana is unconstitutional.

- April 2001 - Health and wellness Canada announces suggested guideline for tightly controlled access to medicinal cannabis.

- August 2001 - Health Canada MMAR (Marijuana Medical Accessibility Laws) go into result; Canada becomes the initial country permitting legal ownership of medicinal cannabis.

Since 2001, there has actually been a stable uphill climb for patients of lots of persistent and incurable conditions. A year after cannabis became legal for medical usage, the Canadian Us senate started promoting MMAR reform. Others pushed for ways to lawfully acquire cannabis without having to grow it themselves; numerous sufferers, such as those with MS, we're unable to expand the plant due to bad health.

In 2003, the Ontario Court of Allure began to require modifications to the MMAR. Among these adjustments consisted of giving sensible gain access to through approved suppliers of a lawful cannabis supply.

Over the last seven years, scientists have actually dug deeper right into the potential of medicinal cannabis for use in treating health problems. In many cases, cannabinoids have shown the possibility of being able to aid cure a couple of diseases, which had been thought to be incurable. At the time of this writing, medical marijuana and also the cannabinoids it contains has been made use of in study for lots of diseases, including cancer cells, several sclerosis, rheumatoid joint inflammation, and also Crohn's disease, to name a few."

#CBD #cannabis #cannabidiol

0 notes