I’m back to school tomorrow and I’m incredibly nervous; I have a history research paper due but the Internet was gone in the library so I couldn’t print it. However we went to an IT college today in Dublin and it was so reassuring to see the back entry routes they offer. It just really put my mind at ease.
Afterwards me and Laura got coffee and took tonnes of photos and loads of people were staring at us but that’s okay!
People tend to forget the real point of The Sopranos ending, though.
I mean, Tony may or may not be dead. (I lean strongly towards him being dead myself, but, yes, it’s left deliberately ambiguous.)
But the REAL ending is when AJ reminds Tony that he once said “Focus on the good times,” And Tony totally, utterly forgets that he said it. Because the nutjob sociopathic monster has taken over again…and for good. His humanity has vanished. He’s nothing but a shell of himself now.
It’s pretty much over for Tony at that point. His soul is gone. Long fucking gone. Then it just becomes a matter of if, or when, his body catches up.
Here’s the thing about the eternal “did he die or didn’t he?” question: The man is already dead by the time the scene starts.
HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!! Did you see this wonderful and great comic that the always lovely @mafia-and-coloring-books made for me?? I was very inspired by the first panel so I took a short break from work to present to you.. Uncle Simon. I’m sorry if this has already been done..! I hope 2017 treats you kindly!!
“Are you sure you don’t need this more than I do, Kine?”
“…. Don’t tease your elders, brat.”
Gifting: @mafia-and-coloring-books Santa (if anonymous, put ‘anon’): @super-paper Message (optional): In which Mikage’s core body temp is a constant 99.5 degrees fahrenheit but Kine tries to be a gentleman by giving her his coat anyway Sorry if this is no good! I really enjoy your writing and I hope you have a wonderful holiday!
It was a man and he was begging, and pleading, and praying, I guess. And he was ‘Please, God’ all over the place. So I told him he could have a half an hour to pray to God and if God could come down and change the circumstances, he’d have that time. But God never showed up and he never changed the circumstances and that was that. It wasn’t too nice. That’s one thing, I shouldn’t have done that one. I shouldn’t have done it that way.
, Mafia hit man, and murderer of 250+ people.
For some reason, this quote always sort of messed me up a bit. I still think about it a lot.
To really understand what it means to be a mobster, I think it is also important to look at real life examples. This should help you to keep your character realistic and believable throughout. To help, here are some resources on real-life mobster and mob bosses throughout history and more currently:
It also might be worth checking out the book: Mafia Girl which discusses mob bosses and heroins (Disclaimer: I have not read this book and can’t condone or condemn the content. I recommend it only to increase your knowledge of already existing mob related stories.)
AU where you’re born knowing your soulmate’s (future) biggest secret.
In a world where you grew up knowing your soulmate’s future biggest
secret, it wasn’t exactly uncommon to have some problems adjusting. There were always those sad cases of knowing
that “my soulmate is going to be abusive,” or “my soulmate is going to have an
affair,” there were other ones like “my soulmate will be an embezzler” or
something slightly shady like that. You
were willing to bet that there weren’t many people who grew up with the
knowledge that “my soulmate is going to
be the head of a mafia family.”
Nope. You were a “lucky” one,
with something unique and crazy. There
wouldn’t be many people who fit that description, which was rather nice. You were never someone attracted to the
thrill of falling in love and hoping that this
one person would be your soulmate. Give
you something more concrete any day of the week.
By the time your parents decided you were old enough to ask if you
would like to share what your soulmate’s secret, you were old enough to
understand the nature of a secret – particularly yours. You refused and moved on with your life. And by moved on, you had started your
training. If you were going to marry the
head of a mafia family you were going to be well prepared.
Sure, it was a little hard to get information about the mafia,
especially as an eight year old, but you made sure to smile innocently up at
them, and say that you had a lot of interests, you threw in some sports books
too…as if you would have time to be interested in sports. At nine, you convinced your parents to sign
you up to language classes. At ten you
had added two more languages to your repertoire and were confident enough to
add dance lessons to your growing classes of languages.
By eleven you had moved on from books about the mafia to books about
business and economics. People called
you a genius. You considered yourself
more self-preserving. Twelve saw you getting
interested in debate and the chess club, being called a nerd now would
definitely be worth the strategy you would be practiced in when you were
older. Thirteen had you demanding a camp
for “youth leadership” – hopefully the principles taught there would carry over
into “adult leadership,” if not, you would be sorely disappointed in this waste
At fourteen, you had been learning roughly two languages a year for
five years. You had been practicing
dance and etiquette for four, studying business principles for three, working
on strategy for two and leadership for about a year. It was time to more firmly entrench yourself
in the ways of the world. So you ran for
student government at your high-school.
You had decided that this would be a way to get used to both leadership
and figuring out how to get what you wanted from people determined to see you
You were wonderful at it, obviously.
And at this point, all that was left for you to do was to continue your
personal studies and wait to see what would happen.
It was a sunny day, during your second year of college that you met
him. You had gone to Italy for your
spring break. (Starting half way through
high-school, you had decided that you needed to be more well-traveled and had
undertaken that venture just as quickly, if not a little more excitedly, as the
others.) A beautiful spring day and a
warm pastry in your hands, you were enjoying the time off from school, and
simply enjoying being alive.
The gunshots had brought a rather quick end to that.
Being shoved to the ground by a warm body and looking into the
liquid gold eyes of a young man about your age had brought that feeling back
just as quickly. And you knew. You knew this man was the one destined to be
with you forever.
The way his eyes widened and there was a bit of hesitation before he
leaned up to shoot in the direction he came from let you know that he knew as
The shooting was over just as quickly as it had started and you were
disappointed to find that despite having thought that you were well-prepared
for this, that you were still a little breathless and unable to quite find the
words you wanted to say. You would blame
it on the near death experience you had just had.
Thankfully, it looked like this budding mafia boss was having the
same trouble as you were as he took a couple deep breaths before he was able to
say anything as well.
“I’m Tsunayoshi Sawada,” he said as he reached out his hand.
“You’re the head of a mafia family?”
You said almost simultaneously, before blushing in a bit of shame. You had very carefully planned out what you
would say during the first meeting, make sure your soulmate knew that it hadn’t
been a mistake that you were his soulmate.
But Tsunayohsi Sawada was not what you had been picturing. He was much leaner…and younger…and less
Marlon Brando looking than the mental picture.
“Aw man, I had really been hoping that my biggest future secret was
that I was a good dancer or something.”
He groaned, as he ran his hand through his …rather fluffy, you off
“I’m sorry, what?” You
blinked, trying to figure out if there was a double meaning to that, or maybe
it was code and you were
A laugh from behind had you spinning to see a tall, smiling, dark
haired man with a sword strapped to his back, accompanied by a slightly shorter
gray haired man with a scowl. “Tsuna’s
been hoping he’ll still figure out a way to get out of it before he’s
officially announced Decimo. Looks like
he won’t be.”
“Only because he’ll have chosen not to,” the silver haired man
turned to ‘Tsuna.’ “If you really tried,
I know that you’d manage to do it.”
“Thank you, Hayato,” Tsuna smile looked a little pained. “But I don’t think Reborn would ever let
me. Maybe it’s better this way, after
all, I know that my soulmate will be more
capable than anyone realizes.”
I am out of my depth. Yesterday, I was just a CIA languages geek, safe behind a desk. I thought I wanted a taste of the action. Then I met him. Klaus. Arms dealer. mafia. A man who’ll kill to get what he wants. And he wants me. Now I’m on a plane to Moscow with orders to “accidentally” run into him again. Seduce him. Sleep with him. I can’t control myself when I’m near him. And if he finds out who I really am, I’m dead.