#let him win plz plz pretty plz
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alyimoss · 9 months ago
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yknow what... people should draw dream w fangs too.... maybe ill do that tmrw.... to promote dreamsweep...
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kashverse · 4 months ago
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plz show us the dynamic between babykuna and baby yujiiii
certain dynamics in life deserve an experimental study. like bread and butter, spotify premium and capitalism, america and a bleak future…..
and most importantly, babykuna and yuuji’s friendship.
yuuji is a golden retriever in boy form. a little too energetic, a little too trusting, a little too easy to con.
babykuna is, well…. she's a sukuna. which means she has the tiniest bit of an ego problem.
so when these two forces of nature collide every thursday night for their legendary power rangers debates, they always follow the same sequence of events:
babykuna says pink ranger is the strongest.
yuuji says red ranger is the strongest.
babykuna calls him a stupidhead.
yuuji calls her a meanie.
yuuji starts crying.
babykuna, who was not expecting to win this way, starts shrieking at him not to cry.
babykuna also starts crying.
it is a disaster.
tonight, however, sukuna is prepared. he is seated comfortably on the couch, enjoying the spectacle while eating grapes, fully expecting the fight to go south.
“red ranger is stronger!” yuuji declares. “he’s the leader!”
“and pink ranger is the prettiest!” babykuna argues, nose scrunched up. yuuji huffs.
“being pretty doesn’t make you strong.”
“yes, it does!”
“no, it doesn’t!”
“yes, it does, you stupid-head, my papa is strong and pretty!”
yuuji pauses. his tiny little brain starts processing. he looks up at sukuna. sukuna, for the record, is sitting there shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants, muscular arms resting behind his head like a goddamn model. 
yuuji squints. babykuna crosses her arms, smug. “see?”
yuuji’s lip wobbles.
he sniffles. babykuna’s eyes widen.
“oh my god, don’t cry, I didn’t mean it!” she panics, flailing.
“YOU’RE A BULLY!”
“I’M NOT A BULLY, YOU’RE A CRYBABY!”
and then—waterworks. two five-year-olds, sitting on the floor, wailing like they just lost everything in the stock market.
sukuna sighs, pops another grape in his mouth. “told you, dumbass.” from the kitchen, you sigh, crossing your arms. “sukuna, go fix this.”
“nah, this is what we call a learning experience.”
“they’re five.”
“then they’re learning early.”
babykuna’s cries get louder. you glare. sukuna sighs again. then, grudgingly, he gets up.
he makes his way over to the sniffling children, ruffling both their heads.
“alright, brats. let’s settle this like real power rangers.”
both sniff. stare.
“how?”
sukuna grins.
“karate match. first one to fall loses.”
babykuna immediately brightens. yuuji, through his tears, nods solemnly.
“yeah, okay.”
ah, parenting.
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sknyuz · 17 days ago
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Hello! Congratulations on 400 followers, i love your writing and you definitely deserve it💜
I was wondering if i could request an Scoups x reader with the song Still into you by Paramore? Super fluffy please
Here's to many more followers💜
still into you - c.s.c.
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now playing — still into you - paramore pairing — choi seungcheol (s.coups) x reader genre — highschool sweethearts, romance, fluff, slice of life, strangers to lovers to married couple !! cw — usual casual skinship, a little bit of a lover’s quarrel, cheol is so into you wc — ~3k
note: oh cheol my beloved !! i love this so much and i hope u guys love reading it just as much as i did writing it (ㅅ´ ˘ `) so happy to finally welcome cheol to my growing masterlist !! thank u @reiofsuns2001 for this request !! im so sorry it took so long, rei >><< sobs i have so much piled up !!
11 out of 13 members, three to go !! so pretty plz request any china line: jun or hao (plsplspls i ult him)
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can't count the years on one hand that we've been together...
you always sat at the front of the class—highlighters in perfect color-coded rows, your handwriting criminally neat, the kind teachers loved to show off as an example. you didn’t talk much because you didn’t need to. your grades spoke for you.
seungcheol, on the other hand, was sat behind you. laughing with his team in the hallways, quiet in class, his football varsity jacket nearly always slipping off one shoulder. he chewed gum when he wasn’t supposed to, passed notes to his friends during lectures, and somehow still managed to charm every teacher in the building.
you weren’t supposed to end up together,
you were the scholarship student, the overachiever. seungcheol was the football team’s rising golden boy, all brawn and charming grins.
but one day in sophomore year, he leaned forward with a crooked smile and an awkward scratch to the back of his neck.
“hey… can i borrow a pencil? i swear i’ll give it back.”
you didn’t answer, just handed him your backup—a pink mechanical pencil that had a little heart-shaped eraser on the end. he grinned, mouthed a silent “thank you” as you rolled your eyes and turned back around.
you never got that pencil back.
but three weeks later, he offered you a ride home after late labs, nervous hand gripping the steering wheel of his dad’s honda civic.
“i kinda owe you, y’know?” he huffed, the lamest excuse to spend a little time with you. “wanna maybe... grab a meal before i take you home?”
and you said yes. he told his teammates about it the next morning in the locker rooms like it was the biggest win of his life.
now, several years later, you’re sitting beside him in the university library, quizzing him on finance terms you already know by heart.
you’re wearing that same battered varsity jacket—the one with the stitched-on patch from your high school. it’s a little faded now, the sleeves too long with the collar fraying. but it smells like seungcheol and fits like a memory, and he always says it looks better on you anyway.
his arm is draped around your waist, hand resting gently on your thigh as you lean into him. the world outside is cold, deadlines piling up, futures uncertain. but in this quiet corner of campus, you’re just the girl who gave him a pencil, and he’s still the boy who forgot his.
seungcheol glances down at you, eyes full of something warm and familiar. “hey, babe. how long have we been together?” he suddenly pipes up, eyes scanning yours. “like... six years...?” you murmur, eyes still trained on the flashcards you were organizing. “that’s wild.” he whispers, mostly to himself. you smile at this, brushing your thumb against his knuckles. “yeah, and you still haven’t given back my pencil.”
he groans, burying his face in your shoulder. “you’re never gonna let that go, huh?”
“never,” you laugh, and in your chest, something soft tugs.
because after all those years later, it’s still him. it’s still you and him against the world.
and, baby, even on our worst nights / i’m into you (i’m into you)
it wasn’t a good night.
you were both running on empty—too many deadlines, too little sleep. you had snapped first, voice sharp and exhausted, tossing a sarcastic comment over your shoulder when he forgot to pick up the takeout.
seungcheol snapped back. it didn’t happen often, but when it did, it hurt in ways neither of you liked admitting.
the apartment was quiet after that. he shut himself in the bedroom, while you curled up on the couch with a blanket and a dull ache behind your eyes.
you were halfway through scrolling aimlessly on your phone when you heard the bedroom door creak open.
seungcheol stood in the doorway, hair messy, eyes glassy with his brows furrowed. he looked younger like that—vulnerable in a way he didn’t let the world see. only you.
he didn’t say anything at first. just walked over and sank down beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. you didn’t lean into him—not yet—but you didn’t pull away either.
“i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “i didn’t mean to… y’know, be a jerk.”
you nodded, eyes still fixed on the screen. “me too.”
there was a pause. then his hand found yours beneath the blanket, fingers weaving through automatically, like muscle memory.
his thumb rubbed slow circles into your skin.
“we’re not perfect,” he said, almost to himself. “but… i’m still yours, even when we fight, or when it’s messy. especially then.”
you turned your head, finally meeting his eyes. they were tired, but soft. “me too,” you whispered. “even when you leave the laundry in the machine for three days.”
he snorted, “low blow.” but he leaned in, kissed your temple, and pulled you into his chest. you let yourself melt against him, the warmth of his familiar varsity jacket surrounding you again like home.
some nights were hard, but even on the worst of them—you never doubted the way seungcheol loved you, and he never let you forget it.
recount the night that i first met your mother / and on the drive back to my house, i told you that, i told you that i loved ya
seungcheol had never been the nervous type.
not even back in his first big game, when the whole stadium would hold its breath waiting for the quarterback to make the play, not during final exams, or during his first part-time job interview or the time he accidentally ripped his pants before a group presentation as a freshman.
but tonight?
tonight, now a high school senior, sitting across from your mother at the dinner table, spoon clutched too tight in his hand—he was spiraling.
“you’re sweating,” you whispered while passing him the kimchi, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “you literally played full-contact sports in summer and didn’t sweat this much.”
he shot you a betrayed look, cheeks flushed. “why didn’t you warn me your mom was so intense?”
“she’s not. she’s just... thorough,” you replied, clearly enjoying yourself far too much.
his hands were clammy, he kept adjusting his posture like that would magically make the nerves go away. this was worse than the championship game sophomore year, when the entire school was watching and he fumbled a play.
your mom, across the table, had a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes yet. her tone was kind, but her questions were anything but casual.
“so, seungcheol,” she said, folding her hands. “what exactly are your intentions?”
he blanked. the word ‘intentions’ echoed like a judge’s gavel in his skull. “uh... good ones?” he croaked, as your dad snorted into his drink. you kicked him gently under the table.
“i mean—i’ve been with y/n since we were sophomores,” seungcheol tried again, “and i... i’m really serious about them. always have been.”
your mom raised an eyebrow, making him want to just freaking disappear into the mashed potatoes.
still, she let him take leftovers when you left, in the nice, airtight lock containers, and that was a silent blessing if he ever saw one.
the car ride home was quiet at first. the hum of your shared playlist playing low through the speakers. you rested your hand on his thigh, thumb moving in slow circles.
“you did great, by the way,” you said softly.
“i bombed,” he sighed. “that was worse than any away game. ever. she had me sweating like i was back under the friday night lights.”
you smiled, turning your body toward him as the city lights streaked past the window. “she likes you, cheol. she just needed to see for herself what i already know.”
he glanced over at you, then back at the road. his grip on the wheel tightened, then loosened.
“i told myself i’d wait longer to say this,” he murmured. “but i’m kinda done waiting.”
your breath caught, turning your head fully toward him now.
“i love you,” he said, eyes still on the road but voice sure, steady—like a promise.
then, just as quickly, his bravado cracked, “you don’t have to say it back,” he rushed, hands tightening on the wheel. “i just—”
but you leaned across the console, cutting him off as you gently pressed your lips onto his cheek, and whispered, “say it again.”
seungcheol did. three more times before the red light turned green.
and from that night on, your mom always made sure to pack extra banchan for him “just in case.”
and to your favorite song / we sang along to the start of forever
that dumb summer playlist you made is still saved on his phone.
you pretend to hate it, rolling your eyes whenever “teenage dream” comes on.
but when your favorite track starts, seungcheol always turns the volume up, grinning like it’s some unspoken tradition.
he leans over and kisses your cheek, soft and sure—like he’s marking the moment.
that playlist becomes the background noise of your entire relationship: your fights, your makeups, those late-night fast food runs when neither of you want to be alone.
then one day, without much warning, he’s driving you back to that lake you used to sneak off to in high school.
the playlist is on shuffle, but you know he rigged it—because just as he pulls the car to a stop, your song starts to play.
he turns the volume up even louder, the corners of his mouth twitching into a nervous smile.
“remember this?” he asks softly, eyes locked on yours through the rearview mirror.
you nod, heart fluttering with all the memories: summer nights, laughter echoing over water, secrets shared under the stars.
he reaches over, slipping his varsity jacket off your shoulders and setting it carefully on the seat beside you.
his hand lingers near his pants pocket, fingers nervously tracing the small, worn box tucked inside—edges softened from years of carrying it around, though you don’t see it yet.
“i didn’t tell you where we were going,” he says, voice low but steady, “but this place… this is where everything started, isn’t it?”
you remember the day he took you here before, that nervous grin on his face, chest puffed out like he’d just won a championship, and how, just before driving you back home, he finally asked you out—your heart racing as you said yes.
you glance out at the calm lake, a quiet smile curling your lips as the sky blushes with sunset.
he kills the engine, and the soft hum of the playlist continues through the car speakers.
seungcheol opens his door first and steps out into the fading gold of sunset, the breeze tugging gently at his shirt. he walks around to your side, and for a second, just stands there—one hand on the roof of the car, the other fidgeting at his side.
then he looks at you like he’s memorizing this—your expression lit by the warm spill of twilight, the way the music floats out from the open car, soft and familiar. there’s something tender in his eyes, a quiet awe, like he still can’t believe you’re his.
“come on,” he says finally, voice thick with emotion as he opens your door and holds out his hand.
and when you take it, he squeezes just a little tighter than usual, like he’s holding onto something sacred.
for a moment, the two of you just stand there.
the lake stretches out in front of you, still and familiar, kissed by the amber glow of early evening. the gravel crunches beneath your shoes as you step closer to the edge. seungcheol doesn’t say anything right away—he just watches you, eyes searching your face like he's trying to soak up every detail.
his hand slips from yours briefly, brushing down the side of his jeans. you notice the subtle way he fiddles with something in his pocket, but before you can ask, he draws in a breath.
then, slowly, almost reverently, he lowers himself onto one knee. right there by the water’s edge, golden light spilling over his shoulders like something out of a dream.
your breath catches before your mind even fully registers what’s happening.
you blink—once, twice—like you’re trying to memorize every second, to lock it into place. the lake, the sky, the song drifting from the car, the way his hair glows like it’s lit from within. he looks up at you with that same expression he wore the night he first asked you out—hopeful, wide open, like you hung the stars.
your heart pounds so hard it almost hurts. not out of surprise, but because this moment feels so full, so right, it could spill over. it’s everything at once—past, present, future—folding into one perfect, dizzying breath. and when seungcheol speaks, you can’t help but feel all choked up.
“some things just make sense,” he says, eyes never leaving yours. “and one of those is you and i.” he opens the box to reveal a simple, perfect ring.
“not a day’s gone by that i haven’t been into you, so let’s make it forever.”
your breath catches as you feel hot tears start to pool in your eyes, and you reach out to pull him up—nodding eagerly, the start of forever written in the way your fingers find his, unshakable.
let 'em wonder how we got this far / 'cause i don't really need to wonder at all
mingyu’s trying to fix his tie in the mirror, frowning like the fabric personally offended him. “does anyone actually know how to do this right?”
jeonghan laughs from the couch, sipping a bottle of water. “you’re hopeless. give it here.”
across the room, seungkwan is adjusting the boutonnière on seungcheol’s lapel, squinting with all the concentration of a man diffusing a bomb. “stay still, hyung. i swear if this thing falls off during your vows…”
“i’m not even moving,” seungcheol chuckles, but his hands are shaking slightly where they rest in his lap.
“still nervous?” dokyeom asks, nudging his shoulder.
“a little,” seungcheol admits. “but it’s a good kind.”
mingyu glances over his shoulder with a smirk. “can’t believe they’re still putting up with you after all these years.”
“seriously,” soonyoung adds from where he’s scrolling through photos on his phone. “i would’ve bailed after the ramen incident back in freshman year.”
“or the time you mixed up your anniversary date and took them to a haunted house instead of a dinner reservation,” minghao mutters, deadpan.
the room breaks into laughter, recalling you and seungcheol’s moments over the years.
seungcheol just laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as the room buzzes with teasing. “you know what? i don’t even wonder how we got here.”
mingyu raises an eyebrow in the mirror, “no?”
the groom shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “not even a little. they’ve always been it for me.”
mingyu nods slowly, fixing his tie. “yeah… ‘cause they’re the only one who’s ever looked at you like you hung the damn stars.”
jeonghan lets out a low whistle, “look at these guys getting sentimental before the ceremony.”
“hyung’s earned it,” wonwoo says quietly from the corner.
but seungcheol doesn’t disagree. not when he’s about to walk down the aisle to the one person who’s still into him—even on his worst days.
you’re still into each other, and seungcheol never needed to wonder why.
yeah, after all this time / i'm still into you
the music swells, the doors open, and time stutters.
seungcheol forgets how to breathe.
you stand at the end of the aisle, framed by flowers and soft light, looking like something out of a memory and a promise all at once. seungcheol’s breath catches, the nerves from earlier melting into something quieter, deeper—reverence.
soft piano keys ripple through the air, a delicate, heartfelt rendition of still into you filling the room—each note tender, every pause holding the weight of years you’ve shared.
“holy shit,” mingyu whispers beside him, and jeonghan elbows him in the ribs.
but seungcheol doesn’t hear a thing—his eyes are only on you.
each step you take feels suspended in warmth, in years’ worth of laughter, fights, slow study sessions, and late-night drives in his beat-up honda civic that survived highschool and the transition to university. his hands tremble at his sides, jaw tight like he’s holding in everything he can’t say just yet.
when you finally reach him, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as you take his hands. they’re warm and familiar.
the officiant speaks, but it’s background noise. everything else fades away.
all seungcheol sees is you, and all you see is him.
and when it’s time—when the words are said, and the universe feels like it’s holding its breath—he leans in.
the kiss is soft, sure. not rushed. like he knows he has forever to do this again.
and again...
and again.
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𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ seventeen ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet | @ateez-atiny380 @alien0n3arth @cuppasunu @dhaliaa1211 @seokminfilm @babilou-pov @crowneve @hhaechansmoless @triciawritesstuff @sopitadearvejas @slytherinshua @chronicfic @xh01bri @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @snowflakemoon3 @bbangbies @kibtsuji @dahlia-blossom @dhaliaa1211 @symphonies-of-poenies
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goldenstring6123 · 10 months ago
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Hi !!! How r u pooks :3
Ignore this if u haven't played dti but what do you think the L&DS boys' reactions would be to their s/o playing dress to impress and actually raging at it like verbally LMFAO this game seriously has me TWEAKING bro but I can't stop playing it gigi please free my family 💔 (hcs plz)
Thanks for reading O_o
Lnds: Dress to impress chaos
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Warning: no warning! GN!READER, crack-fic (?)
Author's notes: DTI has me on a chokehold as well pookie.
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Zayne:
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Surprisingly, Zayne knows about this because of the children in the pediatric ward. A good number of kids have their tablets with them and play the game; to him, it looked like some regular dress-up game. He didn't think much of it and just warned the children to lessen their screen time.
When he arrived home and was taking his shoes off in the foyer, he could hear you complaining about something. The only coherent sentence he heard was, "The theme is Y-THREE-K, NOT Y-TWO-K!" He wondered what you were talking about and who you were mad at, but when he saw you huddled around the coffee table, fashion magazines sprawled all over, and another gadget displaying fashion catalogs, he knew what was up.
"What are you getting so worked up about?" he asked, sitting next to you and placing down a cup of tea after changing into his clothes. He could see that there were figures walking down the runway.
"I don't get how those ugly layering players win first place!"
He was confused by what you meant. The outfits were suitable, donning the familiar attire of the staff at the hospital, particularly scrubs and white skirts that were too short for the protocol. "What's the theme?"
"A doctor or a nurse," you replied. As the screen turned briefly black, Zayne waited in anticipation. The scene changed, and on the podium was a mermaid with neon green wings and a god-awful dress.
You threw your hands up in frustration and wept on his knees. Zayne was dumbfounded. "I hate this game!" he heard your muffled cries on his knees. He patted your head.
He got used to seeing you so engrossed in the game, but he would never get used to your mood swings: one moment, you're insulting children, and the next moment, you're giggling because you won 1st place.
Zayne bought you a VIP pass because he loved seeing your reaction every time, although he isn't really a fan of spending money on in-game currency. But he loves you too much, so he just keeps that thought to himself.
After seeing you play, he watches the kids play as well, occasionally commenting on their choice of clothing. The nurses were pretty confused by his comments because Zayne never really commented on any outfits, much less in a game.
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Xavier:
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Xavier knows about the game and has tried it once, not getting the premise of it at first. He didn't know how to change patterns or delete the clothes he was wearing, so his first catwalk was a bit of a mess. But here's the thing: Xavier won first place, which made him more confused. He screenshot himself on the podium and sent it to you.
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When you got home from work, excited to play with him, he was pouting while looking at his phone. You wondered why and saw that another player was walking around in the same exact fit as your partner's character. Xavier said that he kept on trying to change his outfit, but that one person kept doing the same thing. You decided to give that player a piece of your mind on behalf of your boyfriend.
When you're at work, Xavier will send you links to fashion hacks he sees on social media. "This looks cute; let's try it later," and he's more updated when Gigi is working on something. The codes—Xavier knows the codes by heart. He knows them more than he knows the date of your birth.
It was thanks to this game that he likes to go shopping with you to get some inspiration. Surprisingly, he can make a coherent outfit with the ones he sees in the malls.
When you both play together, he likes playing duo, and even if your outfits are unfinished or bad, he gives you 5 stars. But for the rest of the players, he forgets to vote more than half of the time—you don't know if it's on purpose or really by accident.
He would occasionally laugh when players fight against one another, especially if you were involved.
He once bought himself the VIP pass, but his outfits still looked too generic for your liking, but you didn't have the heart to complain. Xavier once lost a bet, and now he has to buy you the pass as well.
He once used his work account to comment on some suggestions on Gigi's Twitter, and kids were confused as to why a hunter was commenting on a kids' game. He deleted it soon after, but he amassed a few hundred followers.
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Sylus:
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He felt nothing about the game at first and thought of it as nothing more than your form of entertainment. It keeps you busy and out of harm's way, but he never once thought that it would cause a rift in your relationship (he's exaggerating).
Sylus would grow annoyed at how you weren't picking up his calls when you were clearly at home, so he sent Mephisto. The little snitch took a picture of you being so engrossed in your game and sent it back to his boss. Sylus was half disgruntled and 100% dumbfounded when he found out—he was laughing, but he was annoyed. Luke and Kieran were utterly confused.
At midnight, while you worked your way to being a fashion maven, you didn't notice your man sneaking in through the window. Just as you were about to hit pose 11, Sylus yanked your feet and stole your tablet from you.
"No! Give that back!"
"You're not answering my calls because of…this?" He turned to the tablet, which displayed another player's half-decent outfit for the theme "star."
"What calls?" you turned to your phone. '18 missed calls' and your heart sunk to the floor. Shyly, you turned to him, scratching your head. "Oops?"
He sat down on the edge of your bed. "Why are you so engrossed in a dressing game? Why not dress yourself with all the clothes I gave you?" He nudged to the mountain of paper bags in the corner of your room—branded ones, too.
"Because it's fun?" You took the tablet from him and showed him on screen how your outfit won first place. "See? I like winning—one more round, and let's go on a night ride."
He paused, patiently waiting for a minute while you scrolled around the game lobby. He came to a decision. "No. Screen time is over. You've neglected me for far too long." He yanked the tablet away from you using his evol, then pinned you down to the bed, burying his nose in between your breasts.
Although Sylus claims he's not interested in playing the game with you, he did, in fact, join the game secretly to spy on you. He was mildly infuriated with the little amount of selection of menswear and the ridiculous look on the men's faces, so he still really doesn't understand the hype, but he'll be generous enough to give you a three or four-star once in a while.
Once, he joined your server, and the theme was the bad guy. You dressed up as a white-haired, red-eyed man with over-chiseled cheekbones. A moment later, Sylus bombarded you with a screenshot of the game. "I do not look like that. Delete it."
As much as he says he doesn't like the game, Gigi made an update and added some dark reddish aura in-game, as well as a crow perched on the hand of the model. The bird looked awfully close to Mephisto. You confronted Sylus about this, and he denied having any involvement in it.
Whenever you sleep in Sylus' home, he would wake up to the goddamn beat of the game at 3 am, and out of frustration, he would use his EVOL to get the device away from you and place it on the highest shelf in the room. Then he'd hold you down.
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Rafayel:
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Rafayel introduced you to the game, but after a few times of playing it, it didn't take long for him to get banned for cyberbullying—he wasn't bullying, actually; he was just stating facts, and the other players couldn't take it, and so they reported him. He fights anyone, and he comments a lot in the game, earning him the title of a "yapper."
"You guys don't have taste. How did that thing win first place?" That thing refers to a pretty decent outfit but doesn't match the theme.
"You don't look good either, hun," said the person in first place.
"You don't get to say that when your hair looks like puke, darling." He rage-chattered, saying everything he was typing out loud.
You were cackling beside your boyfriend, witnessing him rage while you were just perched on top of the 3rd place, happy you even got to go up there against all the fashionistas.
"Kids really have the gall to compete and insult adults with taste."
"Raf, you do understand that they're adults as well, right?"
"No, they're not. They're children. This is a kids' game."
You stared at him intently. He stared back, thinking.
"Then I don't need to hold back from insulting them." he placed his hand on the keyboard.
Rafayel's fits are absolutely top-tier. He always wins first place. The layering, the color combination, the form, and the aesthetic are all on point and top-tier. He doesn't reference, and the only time he does is when the theme requires it.
This man doesn't do duos with you because he wants the podium to himself. He once did a duo with you, and it broke his winning streak. You had a small argument about it, but you just gave in, eager to make him lose. Newsflash: You failed miserably.
He secretly joins a farming server every once in a while. Rafayel unknowingly joined the same server as you, and when you asked about it, he denied it, saying only people with bad tastes need to farm for stars. You sent him a screenshot. He didn't talk to you for a day.
He files a lot of complaints and goes on Twitter about how buggy the game is and how bad the texture is. He didn't know that his graphics were on low.
Rafayel is very active in the community and contributes to it during his free time. He uses an alternate account to post suggestions when Gigi opens a post about it. A lot of people actually agree with Rafayel's complaints and suggestions.
Rafayel once freaked out when he accidentally went inside the meat room and told you about it, but when he showed you, it was already catwalk time. You pretended you didn't believe him and tried to pretend to listen when he was searching for that passable wall. You laughed at him and brushed him off, pretending that you didn't believe him.
This began the downward spiral to Lana's lore. He kept on sending you reels about it—and speculations and theories. He even once invited you to that scary horror game, but he quit because it was too creepy and full of 'negative energy.'
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Author footnotes: If I'm taking a break while writing, I would be playing dress to impress and I would be fighting children (i'm not joking, I once made a player and her friends leave the server)
Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |
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whatdoeseverybodywant · 7 months ago
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What We Used to Be - Jey Uso x Black!OC
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I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 
All OC Characters belong to me
Main Masterlist
This will remain a ONESHOT, no part twos ❤️
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April 11th 2017
JaiFelix_WWE
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liked by trinity_fatu, sashabankswwe, and 300,000 others
JaiFelix_WWE: If you're not watching Smackdown tonight, what are you doing??!
view all comments
user: dreaming about us being together
trinity_fatu : JAI- JAI 💖
carmellawwe: looking good girl!
jonathanfatu: can u delete this plz! got my wife licking her phone!
↪JaiFelix_WWE: @jonathanfatu LMAO!
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Jaiania held her breath as she walked past Josh and his twin brother Jon. She kept her head down, hoping they didn’t notice her walking by them. She absolutely did not want to have a conversation with either of them - especially Josh -. After their failed relationship and trainwreck of a breakup, she would rather play in traffic than have a conversation with him. 
She almost made it past them without being noticed. “Damn girl you just gon walk right past us.” That was Jon. Jaiania forced a smile on her face and turned around to face them. 
“Oh, hey.” She said, keeping her eyes on Jon. “Didn’t see you there.” She shrugged when he gave her a ‘yeah right’ look. Josh crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes when he realized that she was trying her hardest to not look in his direction. 
This is awkward she thought as she rocked back on her heels before pointing in the direction she was walking. 
“I gotta go. Nice seeing you though,” She said to Jon, still ignoring Joshua’s presence. 
She hurried down the hallway feeling their eyes on her. 
Jon turned to his brother once she rounded the corner. “Look at what you did,” He said, smacking Josh on his chest. Josh rolled his eyes. 
“I ain't do shit. Come on, we gotta get ready.”  Josh did not want to hear that bullshit. He was in the wrong just as much as she was but since everyone loved Jaiania he took all the blame. 
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Jaiaina groaned as she saw Jon and Josh walking her way a couple of hours later. This must be my lucky day, two times in one night, she thought bitterly. She could normally avoid Jon and Josh but they seemed to be everywhere she was today.
“Congratulations guys.” She said referring to the Smackdown tag team titles they had just won from Chad Gable and Jason Jordan. 
“Thank you, Jai,” Jon said, trying to give her a sweaty hug. She pretended to throw up and moved away from him. “Is your arm okay tho? That rinpost spot looked pretty rough.” 
“I’m totally fine.” Jaiaina lied. “Looked way worse than it actually was.” She said, smiling at him. 
“Yeet!” He said, making Jaiaina roll her eyes. “We goin’ out to celebrate our big win tonight, you in?”  
Jaiaina let her eyes cut over to Josh who thankfully wasn’t looking at her. “Uh. I can’t. I have plans already.” That got Josh’s attention. He looked up from his phone and squinted his eyes at her. He wasn't normally one for gossip but he had heard some things about Jaiaina and another one of their co-workers recently. 
“So the rumors are true huh?” He said with a scoff. “You move on fast.” Jaiaina cut her eyes back over to him and glared. 
“Excuse me?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 
Josh sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes at her. “You heard me.” 
Jon let his eyes ping pong between the two of them. He knew he needed to stop them before they became explosive. “Uce, come on. It ain’t worth it. ” Jon said trying to pull his brother along but Josh wasn’t budging. “Josh, stop. Let’s go Uce” 
“Yeah, I think that's a good idea,” Jaiaina said as she rolled her eyes and turned to walk away from them.  6 months of silence and the first thing he said to her is something about some bullshit ass rumors?! Pathetic 
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“And then he had the nerve to talk about me moving on too fast,” Jaiaina said to Trinity and Carmella as they sat in the VIP section of a club. “I mean, he broke up with me. What does he care if I moved on or not.” She said as she downed another shot. Carmelle and Trinity shared a look but didn’t say anything.  “And what fucking rumors?!” She turned to her best friends. “Yall heard rumors about me?” She let out a scoff and rolled her eyes when they both nodded. 
“Yeah, but we obviously don't believe it,”  Carmella said. 
“What's the rumor though?” 
Carmella shrugged and sipped her drink. “Something about you and AJ” 
Jaiaina's eyes widened. “AJ STYLES?!” She asked louder than necessary. “Ew, what the fuck. Where did that fucking come from?”
 Carmella sighed. “Okay, here's what I know. Apparently, someone saw you and him  leaving a hotel room together a couple of weeks ago.”
 Jaiaina scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Do these people know that he’s married and I would never do that to Wendy or his children?” She sighed. “And Josh knows that Allen was my mentor during my time in TNA.” 
“Girl you know how Josh is. He’s being an ass because he misses you.” Trinity said and Jaiaina rolled her eyes.  
“Yeah well, he shouldn’t believe rumors about me.” 
“And you miss him too, right?” Trinity questioned. 
Jaiania rolled her eyes. “Of course I miss him, I never said I didn’t.”
“ Do you still love him?” 
Jaiaian took another sip of her drink before answering. “Yes I still love him, but it is extremely obvious that he never did. We break up and the first thing he does is go fuck on one of our coworkers? That’s foul. Now every time I walk past that hoe she got a fucking smirk on her face that I wanna smack off. ” 
Trinity and Carmella found themselves nodding along with Jaiaina’s statement. It was an extremely foul thing for Josh to do. 
“I still don’t know what possessed him to do that. “ 
“I do.” Jaiaina rolled her eyes. “He been wanting to fuck Dasha. Surprised he didn’t do it  while we were dating.” 
Trinity rolled her eyes at her friend. “Josh may have been an asshole but we all know he wouldn’t cheat on you.” 
Jaiaina hummed as she took a sip of her drink. She then eyed her friend. “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your husband?” 
“Oh, about that.” 
Jai narrowed her eyes at Trinity before letting out a gasp. “You didn’t !” 
“I’m sorry! I know we already planned this girl's night and I didn’t wanna flake on y'all.” 
Jai scoffed and turned towards Carmella who was already looking at her with guilty eyes. 
“I invited  Corey too.” 
Jaiaina had to stop herself from throwing a temper tantrum. “You guys” she whined. “Girls night mean just girls.” She pouted. 
Trinity and Carmella burst into laughter. “We’re sorry! But look, we can have a girl's night once we go back to Florida. Just us.” 
“Fine,” Jaiaina said, still pouting. Just as she was about to take another sip of her drink, Jon, Josh and… Dasha fucking Jackson. Jaiaina scoffed and adverted her eyes from the couple. 
“I’m sorry,” Trin whispered as stood and greeted her husband and Corey purposely ignoring Josh and Dasha. Carmella did the same and Jaiania couldn’t have been more grateful for her friends. 
Don’t let it get to you, Don’t let it get to you. She repeated in her head as Dasha made a point of showing she was Josh’s girl now by placing a kiss on his lips. Once Dasha looked in her direction, Jaiaina stood from her seat and walked over to the bar. The drama was something she did not need nor want tonight. 
She let out a heavy sigh as she leaned against the bar. She had successfully gone months without being in the same space as Josh because it hurt. It hurt to look at him and not be with him. She said some foul things the day they broke up and so did he, but she never expected him to literally go and fuck another woman THE SAME NIGHT. 
“C’mon, you too pretty to be frowning.” Jaiaina had to stop herself from swinging on the slimeball that just slithered his way next to her. She turned her head to the side to face him and he smiled thinking he got her attention. She cringed at the food he had stuck in his teeth. 
“Thank you,” She said referring to the compliment. “But, uh no thanks.” She said referring to his advances. The bartender set down her rum punch, Jaiaina grabbed the drink and tried to walk away but the guy grabbed her arm. 
“Don’t be fucking rude.” He scoffed. “You didn’t even ask me my name.” 
“That’s cause I don’t wanna know your name!” She said, trying to pull her arm out of his grasp. Just from how tight his grip was, she knew she was going to have a bruise. “Let go of me!” 
“Don’t be such a bitch!” He spat at her, Just as Jai was lifting her knee to hit him in his balls, he was forcefully grabbed, which caused him to release her arm. 
“The fuck is you doin’?!”  
Jaiaina let out a gasp as Josh pushed the slimeball down to the ground. By now, more than half of the bar had turned their attention to them. “Don’t put ya’ fucking hands on her like that. Fuck is wrong witchu?!” 
Slimy McSlimerson tried to kick his feet at Josh but Josh sidestepped them and then kicked slimeball in his face, knocking him onto his back. Slimy let out a groan as he started to hold his now broken nose. 
“You alright?” The bartender asked coming around the bar and taking Jai’s arm in his hands, inspecting it. “You want me to call the cops?” 
Josh gently pulled Jaiaina away from the bartender, making him drop her arm. Jaiaina’s eyebrows furrowed together as Josh wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, tucking her into his side.  “Nah, we good,” Josh said eyeing Slimy on the ground. Josh was tempted to knock Slimy’s teeth down his throat but decided against it as he led Jai out of the club and into the night's cool air. 
Jaiaina said nothing as she let Josh lead her outside. She momentarily allowed herself to lean into his familiar touch before remembering their current situation. “I’m fine now.” She said, taking another step away from him. “You can go back into the bar.” 
“And leave you out here?” He asked. “Bab–Jaiaina, you shaking.” 
“Okay, so send Trin or Mella out here. Go back inside.”  Josh sucked bus teeth and pulled off his black bomber jacket he was wearing and handed it to her. 
“Just take the damn jacket Jai” 
“I don’t want your damn jacket, Joshua. And I damn sure didn’t need your help back there. I had it.”
Josh scoffed and grabbed her arm, making them both look down at the purple bruise that was forming. “Yeah okay.” He snorted. He hated that she was so stubborn. “You can hate me all you want Jaiaina. But if you gon’ wait out here in the damn cold, take the damn jacket.” 
Jaiaina huffed and snatched the jacket out of his hands. “Happy?” She asked with a sarcastic smile and she slid her arms into the jacket. 
“Very.” Just as he said that the side door to the bar opened and her group of friends and Dasha spilled out. Dasha eyed the jacket and then narrowed her eyes at Josh, who was still looking at Jaiaina. 
“Girl! Are you okay?!” Trinity cried out as she and Leah rushed over to their best friend. Jai broke eye contact with Josh and turned her head towards her friends. 
“I’m fine. Just some weirdo who doesn’t understand the meaning of No.”  
Trinity, being the emotional drunk wrapped her arms around Jai’s head and pulled her down, so Jai’s head was resting on her breast. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help you friend.” She whispered as a few tears slipped down her face. Jon and Josh sucked their teeth. 
“Man, Trin get off her.” Jai let out a soft laugh as Jon pulled Trinity away from her. 
“Did I ruin the mood? Or can we go back in?” Jaiaina asked. 
“Hell no! You didn’t ruin the mood! C’mon!” Leah said as she grabbed Trinity’s and Jaiaina’s hands and started to lead them inside. 
“Actually. I’m not in the party spirit anymore… We’re gonna head back to the hotel. Dasha said as she walked over to Josh. Jaiaina hated the way her heart tightened in her chest. Jaiaina watched as Dasha slipped her hand into Josh’s, her fingers curling around his in that intimate, effortless way that people who were in love did. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a bit longer?” Josh asked, his voice soft but laced with that familiar warmth Jaiaina had once loved.
Dasha's hand tightened around his. “I’m sure. Come on, let’s go.” There was a finality to her words that Jaiaina couldn’t ignore.
Jaiaina’s chest tightened. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It shouldn’t hurt at all.
She and Josh had broken up for a reason—no matter how hard it had been. She told herself she was over it. Jaiaina forced herself to look away from the couple. 
“I think I'm gonna head back too. I forgot I have an early flight to Birmingham in the morning.” 
Birmingham? Josh arched his eyebrow at the mention of Birmingham. He knew there was only one reason why she was going there, which meant she lied to Jon earlier when he asked about her arm. 
Trinity and Leah shot her playful glares, but their smiles quickly softened into teasing hugs. After making Jaiaina promise to hang out once all three of them were in Florida, Jon, Trin, Leah and Corey walked back inside the bar. 
Jaiaina stood there awkwardly. She pulled her phone out of her clutch and ordered an Uber. She could feel Josh and Dasha’s eyes on her. 
“Oh, your jacket,” Dasha said as their Uber pulled up. 
“She can keep it. It’s cold as hell out here Baby.” Baby.. just hearing that Josh had a nickname for Dasha made Jaiaina sick to her stomach.  
“It’s fine..” Jaiaina trailed off as she took the jack off and handed it back to Josh. “I should have brought out my own coat.” 
“Yeah, you should have.” Dasha scoffed and snatched the jacket out of Jai’s hands. 
Be the bigger person Jaiaina thought, don’t beat this bitch’s ass. 
“C’mon man, you ain't have to snatch it,” Josh muttered as he walked towards the Uber. Dasha rolled her eyes and stomped after him. 
“Well, why did you give her your jacket? Could have let the hoe freeze for all I care.” 
Jaiaina gritted her teeth as the door to the Uber slammed shut and they drove away. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the deep breathing exercises her therapist told her to do. Forcing herself to take slow, deliberate breaths in and out. In through the nose, out through the mouth...
It didn’t work. Not this time.
Dasha was so lucky that Jaiaina actually enjoyed her job, cause Jai would have BEEN beat her ass by now. 
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Jaiaina’s head had barely hit the pillow before three sharp, rhythmic knocks echoed through the room. Her stomach twisted into knots at the sound of the knocks. 
There was only one person in the whole world that knew three was her safe number. Sighing, she threw the covers off of her, grabbed her pink Versace robe, and opened the door.
“Why did you lie to twin earlier?” Jaiaina blinked. 
What?” she scoffed, a quick laugh escaping her. “What are you talking about?”
“Earlier, Jon asked about your arm. You said you were fine but you not. Why you going to Birmingham in the morning.” 
“What I have going on in my life doesn’t concern you anymore Joshua,” Jaiaina said firmly, trying to shut down the conversation before it could go any further.
“Don’t do that.” He muttered, his eyes never leaving hers. “Don’t act like you weren’t a major part of my life.” 
“I was. Not anymore Joshua. Go back to Dasha and leave me alone.” 
Josh’s jaw tightened as he took a deep breath trying to compose himself. “Look, I know –” 
“No,” Jaiaina said as she started to shake her head. “I’m not doing this with you.” Josh looked confused as she started to close the door in his face, at the last second, he put his foot in between the door and the fame. Jaiaine huffed as he easily overpowered her and gently pushed her away from the door. 
She stomped over to the bed and threw herself down on it, while Josh shut the door behind her and went to sit in the armchair that was placed between the bed and the window. 
“Josh, it's been six months since we last talked. Let’s just go back to that.” 
“I don’t want to. I fucking miss you Jaiaina.” 
Jaiaina laughed making Josh scoff. 
“The hell so funny?” 
“YOU!” She exclaimed as she jumped from the bed and pointed at him. “You think you can just come swoop in like some type of Superman after what you did?! Fuck off, Joshua!” 
“Jai, I know I said some fucked up shit but -” 
“Said?! No nigga. It's about what you did!” She cut him off.  “The fact that you fucked that bitch the same night we broke up was foul as hell Joshua!” 
“Woah!” He called out, jumping to his feet. “I ain't do no shit like that. Fuck is you talking about.” 
Jaiaina let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah okay.” She said mockingly with a roll of her eyes. “The bitch already told anybody who would listen. The same night you walked out of our hotel room, you went to her! And you fucked her.” Jaiaina couldn’t hold it back anymore, the tears that threatened to spill since the bar came flowing down her face.
"Jai, I swear to you, that's ain’t what happened," Josh said, his voice low and urgent. He took a step towards her, but Jaiaina backed away, shaking her head.
“Don’t Joshua. Just leave.” 
“Hell no. I’m not going anywhere. I lost you once, I’m not doing It again.” 
Jaiaina childishly covered her ears. “I’m not listening to any of the bullshit you are spewing tonight Joshua!” She uncovered her ears and narrowed her eyes at Josh. “Okay let's just say, you didn’t have sex with her the same night. You’re still with her now! And don’t deny it, I heard you call her baby.” When Josh didn’t deny it, Jaiaina felt her heart break even more. “Please just go. Go back to your girlfriend and go back to ignoring me.” She whispered as she lowered her eyes to the ground. 
Jaiaina heard him sniffle but she didn’t lift her head to look at him. “I never wanted to hurt you Jai.” Jaiaina didn’t say anything back, she didn’t have anything to say. She was exhausted. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget all about Josh by the morning. 
Josh sighed and started walking towards the door, the silence between them was too much. It was suffocating. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to make things right. But he didn’t know how. With one last glance at Jaiaina, he turned and walked out the door. 
As soon as the door shut, Jaiaina broke down, she covered her mouth with her hand to try and hide her sobs. Outside, Josh leaned against the closed door, his forehead pressed against the cool wood. He could hear Jaiaina's muffled cries through the thin barrier, and each sob felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted nothing more than to burst back in, to take her in his arms and explain everything. But he knew she wouldn't listen, not now.
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April 18th 2017
Birmingham, Alabama
Jaiaina knew it was stupid to go through this surgery alone, but WWE provided the best doctors so she knew she was in good hands. 
Waking up from surgery was a feeling she would never get used to. She let out a groan at the dull ache in her right shoulder and immediately she heard someone shh her and place a straw at her lips. The comforting sensation of the water helped clear some of the haze, but as she blinked her eyes open, the shock of who was sitting next to her hit her like a ton of bricks.
“I gotchu, relax.” 
“What are you doing here?” She whispered,  her voice scratchy and weak from the anesthesia.
“Making sure you alright and not alone.” 
“Josh please –” 
He shushed her again. “I broke whatever I had with Dasha off. Imma be truthful and say that yeah, I got with her to fuck with you after I heard the rumor about you and AJ but, I did not have sex with her that same night. To be honest, I never had sex with her, I haven’t had sex with anybody since you.” 
Jaiaina’s jaw dropped open. She didn’t know how to respond to that. She had spent the past six months hating Josh because she thought he was a slimy asshole. She didn’t know how to feel right now. 
“Josh I-”  She started, 
“I’m not asking you to forgive me, Jaiaina,” Josh continued, his voice soft but firm. “Not right away. Aight? I know I messed up, and I know it’s not gonna be easy. But I’m willing to work this out, but only if you want to.”
Jaiaina stared into his eyes, no matter how hard she tried she would never get rid of the love she had for this man. It was a big relief to finally hear the truth about the night that they broke up but he still hurt her by ignoring her for six months. 
“Please.” He whispered. “I always seen you in my life. Always seen you as the mother of my kids. Just give me one more chance.” 
Jaiaina’s breath caught in her throat. This was the most vulnerable she had ever seen him in the three years they had dated. 
“Okay,” She whispered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “But I swear on everything I love, this is your LAST chance.” 
Josh's face lit up with a mixture of relief and hope. He gently took Jaiaina's hand, careful not to disturb the IV line. “I promise you, I won't mess this up again. I love you too damn much.” 
Jaiaina stared at him for a second before a small smile came across her face. “I love you too.” 
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Authors Note: I'm sorry if this sucked 😮‍💨😫
I've had this halfway written for about a year and just decided to say fuck it and finish it. I really do hope you all enjoy it! ❤️
Side Note:
Jaiaina had torn rotator cuff.
Josh definitely bribed and threatened an intern to tell him what was wrong with Jaiaina LOL!
🏷️: @paigereeder @harmshake @empressdede @theninthwonder @jaethaone
@mzv11 @shantinextdoor @sheydnni @xmonetsworld @christinabae
@southerngirl41 @reci1996 @alyyaanna @li-da-savage @kill-the-artiste
@trashbin-nie @adoreesun @shayaaaaaaa @bebesobrielo @bookuce
@rianasixx @kat3457 @queeny23 @privateeyed95 @cyberdejos2
@justazzi @jstarr86 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @vampygomez @msbigredmachine
@ashykneee @callmekayd @yana3sworld @romansthrone @alichesmi
@amandairene88 @scarlettnoir01 @bonni-98 @sassginamillls @rebelrel0987
@aikosilo @vibessonvibes @magnificentbouquetmusic @tbmotw @nayys-world
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thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli · 5 months ago
Note
Hello! I have a request. Can I have some head canons about how La Squadra would react if you were disrespected by someone? Let’s say their s/o (preferably female) works at a cafe or restaurant and a rude customer throws the money at her, completely expecting her to pick up the bill from the floor (yes, that is a real experience I’ve had, unfortunately).
How would they react? What would they do afterwards or say?
Would really, REALLY appreciate it. Honestly, I wish someone had stood up for me back then.
Author’s note: Hey hey~
Thanks for the request~
Sorry no one stood up for you, what happened to human decency?
And I can totally relate, the entitlement of people is insane. Two days in to my very first job as a cashier I had a customer say some really atrociously awful things to me and I just took it because I didn’t know what else to do and afterwards my managers told me I should’ve called them wow. Like my manager literally wouldn’t repeat what the customer had said because it was so abhorrently inappropriate and disgusting.
So yeah. Respect employees, we’re all human beings here it’s literally so easy to Not be insanely rude.
Interestingly enough I actually had some thoughts on this written in my personal La Squadra notes, particularly in regard to Prosciutto since he gives me lots of thoughts about stuff similar to that, cool that I get to address that heh.
-La Squadra x female reader: When someone disrespects you
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Content, PLZ READ: female reader who works as a waitress, discussion of unhealthy and toxic masculinity paired with sexism (Prosciutto), La Squadra is a group of (mostly) pretty aggressive men who act on that feeling so. Some canon compliant aggression, threats, violence and blood. They’re a group of assassins so Lots of Bad men doing bad things. Melone’s slightly perverse tendencies
Various scenarios involving rude customers, including the example in the ask.
Established relationship: dating/married depending on the character
Ok while writing this it’s finally really hitting me how bizarre it’d be to be a non stand user witnessing or experiencing a stand attack-
Reader is aware of stands and that her La Squadra man is a member of the Mafia
And attempts at Italian hopefully it’s correct but if not please lemme know!
Micro fics style
-Formaggio: Out of all the members of La Squadra he’s noticeably much more chill and relaxed than the others. But he’s still a proud member of the Italian Mafia. And you’re his girl. He’s no knight in shining armor or Prince Charming for you, he won’t intervene when there’s an occasional irritable customer giving you a bit of a hard time. He knows you can take care of yourself.
However, if some entitled customer has the audacity to go too far and say or do something Really disrespectful while he’s around, I think he has a preference for good old-fashioned humiliation, and only results to intimidation if they decide they wanna keep making a fool of themselves.
He plays it up like: “ooh, hey, if you wanted that pretty lady’s attention there are much better ways to get it, buddy.”
You don’t have to add anything. You resume work quietly, but keep your eyes and ears focused on him, in case he decided to get carried away.
After a little bit of back and forth with him using his usual coolness and charisma, the offender gets increasingly frustrated and flustered.
When your boyfriend’s finally had enough of this stupid game he stands up from his table. His playfully mocking expression remains, but his smirk shifts ever so slightly into something more sinister. “If you want we could just take this outside,” he says it so casually, with the tone of a man who wasn’t going to hold back if it actually did escalate into a fight. He was not bluffing at all either.
At full height and with the clear confidence that he was absolutely gonna win the fight, the rude customer wisely decides Formaggio was Not someone he wanted to mess with and awkwardly leaves the restaurant, Formaggio loudly exclaiming taunts as the guy skittered away with his tail between his legs.
He seems awfully pleased with himself after “defending your honor” like that. You let him enjoy that feeling, because honestly that was pretty well done and it didn’t get too ugly. He has some nerve expecting a bunch of praise from you for that though.
-Illuso: Someone saying or doing something rude to you is like insulting him as well. And his stand is uniquely qualified for an entertaining punishment against some arrogant idiot giving you a difficult time.
Illuso doesn’t say anything, but when you look over at him while some jerk is screaming his head off at you like it’s your fault his food took five minutes longer than usual to arrive, you see that he’s pretending to fix up his appearance in a fancy compact mirror you had gifted him on your one year anniversary.
You can tell immediately he’s actually angling it at the guy screaming at you so he can activate Man in the Mirror. You inwardly groan because honestly you welcome your husband’s interference, but it will be difficult to explain a man magically disappearing in the middle of a restaurant, especially while he’s causing such a scene with that excessive screeching.
All of a sudden…silence. Such a sudden silence that the sound of Illuso clasping his mirror shut is audible to you from where you’re standing. Of course all the customers were looking at that guy who was freaking out at you. And he literally vanished before their eyes. So you do the only thing you can think of and spread your arms in an exaggerated manner and go: “Ta-DAAAH~” like the supernatural disappearance was just a magic trick.
In a rather weak attempt to sell it, Illuso starts slowly clapping for you and commenting: “molto bene~”. You can’t muster an annoyed glare at him; the slight smile tugging at your lips gave you away. A few customers join him in clapping, a bit confused, but honesty just glad that the yelling has stopped.
Illuso’s version of torment is to leave the guy completely alone in the mirror world. Confusion combined with isolation is a cruel combination, and given his captor was Illuso who was absolutely bound to prolong the punishment because of his sadistic tendencies, you almost feel sorry for the guy.
“Make sure you let him go by this evening,” you remind him before you get back to work.
“Let who go, dearie?” he says, his acting pathetically bad.
Sigh. So he was going to play it that way…
“I’m serious,” you grumble.
“Me too.”
You meet his eyes at that remark, and his smug smirk tells you he wants to see if you’ll keep nagging him about it.
When you don’t indulge him he’ll get bored and let the guy go. Hopefully that brat learned a lesson. And if not, at least he has a story literally no one will believe.
-Prosciutto: Despite not being a very nice man to you, he’s got that ridiculous belief that only he’s allowed to be harsh to you. It’s “tough love” when he’s hyper critical of you or snaps at you for something small, but if anyone else does it to an excessive degree then it’s apparently unacceptable, rude behavior. Really it’s just his pride as a man and unhealthy view of masculinity that causes him to freak out when you’re disrespected. He’s your fiancé…By his logic, you need him to protect you, and it’s his job as a man to do so.
He’s a big hypocrite.
But at least he stands up for you.
You could usually feel Prosciutto watching when a customer started to get a little ornery with you. He wouldn’t always step in, unless something he deemed entirely disrespectful was said or done; he does think dealing with irritable people is okay for you until they get carried away.
It looked like he wasn’t going to intervene this time over the dirtbag being extraordinarily picky and fussy with you, just because he liked bossing essential workers around apparently. Prosciutto was listening, as usual, but didn’t seem too concerned, drinking his coffee disinterestedly. Until the customer decided to toss a crumpled up napkin at you when you turned around.
Ohhh boy, you didn’t even have to LOOK to know the coffee mug getting slammed down on a table was Prosciutto.
You debate what you should do. He strides past you, and you opt to just…hold still and listen for a moment. Pretend you don’t know him, and let him do whatever it is he’s about to do (though you have a pretty good guess what it is).
Despite all the tough talk he was doing before, that customer couldn’t hide the slight panic in his voice at Proscuitto’s sudden approach.
Unlike a lot of Passione members who preferred to hide their affiliation to the mafia, Prosciutto wasn’t nearly as subtle with that tailored suit, open shirt and the demeanor of a man who’s killed before and will kill again.
“Hey who the hell do you think you are?! Stay away from m-” the jerk’s nervous ranting is cut off by Prosciutto dragging him to his feet by the collar of his shirt.
“You dropped something,” Prosciutto says in that certain tone you’ve grown all too familiar with. He uses it often when he’s pissed off or teaching a lesson or both at the same time.
Before the man can even squeak out the beginnings of some sort of excuse or counter he’s gagging, and you turn around to stop Prosciutto from straight up choking the guy by shoving the same napkin he tossed at you down his throat, speaking about how disgustingly disrespectful it was to throw anything at a woman.
“Hey, I think he gets it,” you cut in.
You wonder if he’s actually gonna listen to you this time. For a moment it seems like he might ignore you and continue the lesson. But he decides you may have a point and that he’s not worth the trouble. Though it doesn’t stop him from roughly shoving the guy to the ground when he lets go of his shirt.
“Make sure you add an apology when you pay the check,” he says to the sniveling man on the floor desperately telling himself not to make a run for it like a coward now that Prosciutto’s back was turned.
You don’t know whether to smile or roll your eyes, knowing all your fiancé meant was that he better leave you a generous tip as compensation for such disrespectful behavior.
“Go smoke outside,” is all you say to him when you see Prosciutto reach for the pack of cigarettes in his jacket. He smoked when he was especially irritated; so he went through a lot of cigarettes. He waves his hand dismissively at you, but obeys and goes outside. Though he stays close to the entrance. He’s making it clear he’s not leaving til you’re getting paid well for all that trouble.
The guy ended up practically handing his wallet to you.
Prosciutto internally checks off his: do one good thing for his fiancée today mission.
-Pesci: He’s not the most confrontational of La Squadra, and there’s no love lost between the murderous members of the team beyond a mild respect for each other’s strength (and that’s only sometimes) but he’s more than familiar with how most of the other assassins handle disrespect or things they don’t like in public with violence and aggression (hard glares at Ghiaccio and Prosciutto in particular). And that usually results in them getting asked to leave the premises, how embarrassing-
He doesn’t want to embarrass you either when a particularly volatile customer started screaming at you and freaking out for no valid reason. But he can’t just sit there and let you take that kind of abuse either.
He tries to excuse you from the situation by calling you over to his table like he was a customer and it was something urgent. And well…it might just escalate the irritation of that insufferable jerk screaming at you but…
You go to Pesci anyways, opting to just ignore the jerk, pretending to be busy dealing with some made up issue Pesci was improvising.
To your surprise it actually kinda worked. The guy was steaming for a bit and yelling at you from his table but. You just ignored him. And if anything actually happened Pesci was 100% capable of handling it if he had to. He didn’t usually try to start fights, but if pushed he could absolutely finish them.
“Do you usually get customers like that?” Pesci asks with genuine concern in his voice once the guy finally gets mad enough to leave (without paying but that was a problem for later).
“Well…” more often than someone who doesn’t work in food service would think…
“Sometimes,” you admit vaguely, not wanting to worry him but not wanting to lie either.
He thinks you should find some different job, not that he’s actually in a position to suggest that given he’s literally a La Squadra assassin. And you’ve heard from the few times you’ve met with his coworkers that the money they make in the business of murder is minuscule all things considered. Honestly he should get a new job too. One that didn’t rely on the occasional commission and splitting a check with eight other people.
You both know it’s not that easy to just Find a new job. And he doesn’t think it’s a great idea to suggest you get more involved in Passione for quick but dirty money…sigh…no easy solution…
-Melone: Your boyfriend was the least confrontational man in La Squadra.
Usually you encourage him to not visit you at work…because he always stares at you in such a manner that your coworkers or customers sometimes warn you about a creep in the corner booth who’s been watching you for a while.
As someone who’s used to being yelled at (though only because he’s the one being a FREAK so it doesn’t Really count) he’s sure you can handle the occasional ornery customer who decided to raise their voice at you. He usually intervened only if you directly requested it, because more often than not you got annoyed at him for worming his way into your other problems. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice when he’s typing on his laptop at the restaurant you work at and someone starts destructively causing a scene all because you brought them the wrong brand of soda by accident. It’s been a long day, you’re tired, you’re working the evening shift and the restaurant’s about to close. So you don’t bother to try and appease this guy, you know he’ll just complain and give you a hard time no matter what you do. And he apparently took your: “I’m sorry, let me grab you the right one,” as disingenuous and insulting, because you didn’t call him “Sir”. You really don’t feel like dealing with this, and you’re about to just let it go until he has the audacity to knock the soda off the table and onto the floor, staining the floor and even getting soda all over your shoes.
God…just to humiliate you over something small-you find yourself quietly staring at the floor for a moment, trying to register what you should even do…bend over right now to try to salvage your shoes before the soda dried? You had napkins in your pocket. But then the damn customer won…
And you know Melone was watching everything. He’s so invested that he’s stopped typing.
Melone’s no gentleman, and has no shame, but he can’t just let someone get away completely with disrespecting his girlfriend…especially given he had bought those cute shoes for you!
You can only mumble Melone’s name quietly when he approaches the situation, his demeanor energized despite how late it was. You weren’t gonna deny him stepping in but saying his name was a warning not to be too weird.
He clicks his tongue, making a point to not even look at the jerky customer, like he wasn’t there, and focuses all his attention on you.
“You know those shoes weren’t cheap, tesoro mio,” he chides playfully, immediately plucking off some napkins from the customer’s table and kneeling in front of you so he can wipe your shoes clean himself.
You bite your lip. It might seem gentlemanly to onlookers, but you knew he was also using the opportunity to get close to your legs in public. But he manages to behave himself, even putting a few napkins over the spill on the floor once he’s done with your shoes.
When he finally stands back up, he makes a point of leaning very close with an especially devious look on his face.
“What a shame,” he says in a strangely exaggerated tone. “I think I’ll have to buy you a new pair of shoes…”
You just give him a confused look after reminding him you’re on the clock when he leans in for a kiss.
Then he wanders off. But at least he distracted the customer enough to dampen the worst of the disrespectful behavior.
You finish your shift. Melone was waiting for you outside with his motorcycle, as he’s your ride back to your shared apartment.
He looks especially pleased with himself.
“What’d you do this time?” you sigh and yawn, too tired to feel especially concerned with whatever he might’ve done.
“Your next pair of shoes is going to be Especially nice…I’ll even get you a pretty dress to go with them~” he licks his lips.
Under the dim light of the street lamp, you finally notice the wallet that he’s holding up. It isn’t his.
His little kneeling act by the table with the rude customer apparently had many purposes…your boyfriend really was quite a sly opportunist…
“Melone…” you were gonna chide him gently for taking the guy’s Entire wallet but…it was too late to start arguing with him, given he was your ride home. And you didn’t care too much about it in the first place, especially right now.
-Ghiaccio: Everything ticks him off so when you’re working you don’t mind if he doesn’t bother to stop by and say hi even when he’s in the area. He tends to get worked up about something minuscule even during quick visits. And your restaurant is quite popular with tourists, who he has a borderline obsessive type of hatred for. Yeah. You were okay with him NOT visiting you while you were working because inevitably one day he was gonna cause quite a scene-
You feel a very ironic cold shiver down your spine when you catch sight of a familiar red Mazda Miata going way too fast in the parking lot looking for a space to park.
“Dios mio…I don’t need this today…” you mumble to yourself, not realizing a particularly entitled customer was watching you act distracted for a moment by looking at a car from the window.
When you get to his table, you don’t really know what he’s yapping about when he says waitresses these days are SO ditzy and aren’t properly trained. You’re not listening too hard because you’re watching Ghiaccio walk past the window on his way into the restaurant. He gives you an acknowledging glance when he spots you, and it pisses off the customer even more because now he’s complaining about how completely unprofessional it was that you invited your boyfriend into the restaurant while you were working. You have no idea where this guy is even getting all these assumptions, or what was even so terribly wrong with the scenario he’s making up, so you don’t pay it much attention and just brush it off as the customer’s eccentric personality trait.
Until he says that if you were going to be disrespectful by inviting your boyfriend to work, you might as well look busy.
What a freaking idiot, waiting for Ghiaccio to walk in to the restaurant before literally throwing the money for his meal at you, completely expecting you to pick up all the bills.
Ghiaccio doesn’t even need to know the context to react (though it’s probably for the best he didn’t hear what started it because it’d just piss him off even more).
“Hey, hey, hey…” Ghiaccio’s voice from the entrance can be heard from half way inside the restaurant. “If you meant to give the money to her, it’d be MUCH more efficient for both of you if you just HANDED it to her, you freaking moron-“
Oh God, here we go…Ghiaccio wasn’t screaming quite at full volume as he speed walked to where you were standing, his hands twitching slightly, either oblivious or simply ignoring all the customers exchanging nervous glances as they watched him. He has to be literally the WORST AND the EASIEST member of his entire team to piss off…and when he got like this he sometimes didn’t even listen to you.
The customer glares at him, and dares to open his mouth to respond, but Ghiaccio’s rant wasn’t over and it just pisses him off even more to see the guy had the audacity to try and interrupt him.
“Ghia, hey-”
Yeah he was definitely not gonna listen to your attempt to calm him down. You wonder if he even heard you because he grabbed the guy by the back of the head while you were talking.
“IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY DAMN SENSE WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT! I MEAN, WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF THROWING MONEY ALL OVER THE GROUND?! YOU JUST GET OFF WATCHING HER WASTE A BUNCH OF TIME PICKING THAT ALL UP?!”
Was he…more pissed about the illogical nature of the behavior or the fact that you were being disrespected…?…It’s kinda hard to tell…this ornery yapper on even more ornery yapper violence was Quite a scene this early in the morning…
“DON’T YOU HAVE A LIFE, IDIOT? OR DID YOU GO OUT JUST TO KILL TIME BY POINTLESSLY INCONVENIENCING A WAITRESS?! YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE BUT SHE’S GOT AN ACTUAL JOB TO DO AND DOESN’T HAVE TIME TO PLAY 52 CARD PICKUP WITH ENTITLED JERKS LIKE YOU!”
It doesn’t even cross your mind that most people would be mortified to watch their boyfriend completely lose it like this in public, you’re so used to it at this point; you’re thinking about how it’s a bit hypocritical of him given how you’ve witnessed him Also going off on a poor server for nothing.
“GHIACCIO!” you finally make yourself shout, reaching out and grabbing the wrist of the arm he was using to hold the panicking rude customer by the back of the head.
You know Ghiaccio. He was about to slam that man’s head on the table.
“WHAT?!” he snaps, but when he whips his head, you can tell the raging blizzard of his soul wavered just a bit when he looked at you.
“Don’t…you’ll break the table, they’re flimsy…”
His physical strength always astounded you, given he wasn’t particularly large, and he wasn’t even resisting your hand on his wrist but you could still feel the power in his arm. “You already made your point…” you whisper, worried about getting in trouble for the scene he was causing.
“BUT-“
“Thank you, it’s okay…”
He REALLY has to debate it, but reluctantly releases the man with an irritated huff and an audible growl. Such a lucky guy…you were one of the few people who could get Ghiaccio to think before taking something too far.
“Is your shift almost over?” he asks, clearly still incredibly irritated, tapping his foot rapidly against the ground.
“About fifteen minutes to go.” You glance at the trembling rude customer, gazing wide eyed and flinching every time Ghiaccio moved in any way.
He checks his watch and the customer climbs further into the booth out of fear of the simple gesture, but Ghiaccio is forcing himself not to pay him any mind.
“I’ll wait for you in the car then.”
“Alright.”
As long as he left the restaurant…
Now everyone knew he was definitely with you in some capacity…damn.
He sends a pointed glare to a couple of the customers on the way out. A “gentle reminder” to keep manners in mind.
And when you give the rude customer one last look, you see he’s on the ground picking up the money he had tossed at you.
He’s trembling a bit. Probably from fear of Ghiaccio changing his mind and coming back to actually break his face. But he’s probably a bit cold too, just from coming into physical contact with Ghiaccio could leave anyone with a chill if he partly activated his stand while touching someone.
You really needed to have a chat with him about his temper but as the previously inconsiderate customer blubbers out apologies and begs you to protect him from your scary boyfriend while shoving the money (and a generous tip) directly into your hands you hesitantly decide today is not the day.
-Risotto Nero: He doesn’t go out in public often, but minus the whole “leader of an assassination division in the mafia with a truly frightening appearance” he’s a pretty normal guy. Keeps to himself and stoic, but he can hold a conversation. You’re fine with him not visiting you at work often, you get that he’s super busy, but when he does stop by you’re glad to see him (and he doesn’t cause any scenes. Bonus points for Risotto).
It was a slow morning for you, and he had finished an early morning mission earlier than he had expected. He even checked to make sure the diner you worked at wasn’t busy before he decided to stop in and see you.
Your face lights up when you see him, running over to him and giving him a quick hug, and bringing him a small cup of coffee on the house, allowing yourself a brief moment of respite to speak with your boyfriend. It wasn’t busy yet…there were only two other customers, but it was just your luck that one of them woke up on the wrong side of the bed and decided to come over and give you a hard time for taking a moment to spend with Risotto.
“Does your boss pay you to flirt with customers?”
You can’t even believe someone really came over just to say that to you. You weren’t even sitting down to talk to Risotto, and it’s not like you were being loud or obnoxious or anything.
“She’s doing her job,” Risotto points out with that signature stoic nature. The guy seems slightly put off by Risotto’s unique appearance, but was apparently in a bad enough mood to not back down so easily.
“If she was doing her job she’d be bringing me a refill and not wasting her time chatting with a guy she already served,” he points out indignantly. What an insane level of entitlement…Risotto seemed to think the same thing, though he wasn’t a fan of escalating things.
But this guy…he had some audacity talking to you like that.
Risotto puts his hands on the table, and stands up slowly, deliberately, to his full height, tilting his head slightly to better look the smaller man in the eyes.
“She’s just being polite,” Risotto corrects the man. His voice is still calm, but his speaking speed is Slightly slower. Paired with him purposefully emphasizing his full height, the warning that he wasn’t going to stay civil for much longer was clear.
The unwanted visitor inwardly debates for a moment, visibly shaken from Risotto’s intimidation but absolutely too embarrassed to just back off now.
He foolishly decides to keep going.
“She-” he’s cut off by an almost explosive gush of blood coming out of his own nose. You gasp at the suddenness, but instantly realize what’s happening. He slams his hand over his nose, the blood not stopping that easily, almost immediately leaking through his fingers.
“Oh…” Risotto remarks with obviously fake concern, leaning in as if he were examining the “mysterious” nosebleed. “You’d better take care of that before you get blood all over the place…” he states the obvious with complete unconcern.
It was admittedly a bit funny to watch that jerk sprint to the restroom clutching his bloody nose.
There is a minuscule tug to the edges of Risotto’s lips.
“Risotto! Sudden unexplainable nosebleeds aren’t funny at all,” you chide, despite not feeling an ounce of pity. It’s not like Risotto was trying to kill that guy, if he was he would be bleeding out on the ground right now. The goal was just to embarrass him a bit, and he definitely succeeded.
“I think that was just a suitable divine punishment,” Risotto replies with a shrug, as if his stand, Metallica, had nothing to do with it. It’s subtle but…you can tell he’s irritated someone really had that kind of nerve to bother you for no reason. But you won’t let it ruin his whole day, reminding him that you got off work early today and you’ve been really excited to finally have some free time to spend with him.
Author’s closing note: I hope this could bring you some entertainment~it was enjoyable to write and consider how a few of them could use their stands to mess with people but wow I was being sent back to my first job on occasion with some of these customer characters, sheesh-
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wordpress-blaze-169939984 · 23 days ago
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What is a narcissist?
What characterizes a narcissist? I've encountered this term frequently, not because my friends or colleagues have applied it to me, but rather due to my older sister's frequent use of it. She appears to believe that I fit this description. To diagnose someone with Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), five out of the nine criteria from the DSM-IV-TR are necessary. Some of the traits associated with NPD include a heightened sense of self-importance, preoccupation with fantasies of power, wealth, success, and love, a constant need for admiration, a belief in one's uniqueness, a lack of empathy, arrogance, entitlement, a preference for associating only with important or special individuals, and a tendency to exploit others for personal gain.
It's crucial to distinguish between narcissism and narcissistic personality disorder. Narcissism refers to certain exhibited traits in a person, where they don't meet enough criteria to be categorized as having NPD.
Allow me to elaborate on the fact that most of us possess elements of personality disorders to some degree. For instance, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is one of the most commonly discussed ones. Each of us experiences varying levels of OCD tendencies. Similarly, anxiety and periods of depression are universal; the key lies in the extent to which these disorders disrupt our daily functioning.
This principle applies to both narcissism and NPD. Celebrating our achievements occasionally and taking pride in reaching goals are healthy behaviors. There's no issue with that. Therefore, if someone labels you as a narcissist or suggests you have OCD, don't be overly concerned. More often than not, they might be projecting their own emotions onto you. Give them space to express themselves, and eventually, the genuine truth will emerge.
Examples and Anecdotes: Imagine a coworker who consistently seeks praise for their achievements and often downplays the accomplishments of others. While this behavior might seem narcissistic, it doesn't necessarily meet the criteria for NPD. On the other hand, someone with NPD might manipulate their colleagues into doing their work for them, exploiting their desire to please for personal gain.
Treatment and Coping Strategies: For those dealing with narcissism or NPD, seeking professional help from therapists or counselors is a crucial step. Cognitive-behavioral therapy and other therapeutic approaches can be effective in addressing the underlying issues and promoting healthier behaviors. Developing empathy, self-awareness, and coping strategies are integral parts of the recovery process. For friends and family, setting boundaries and encouraging open communication can help manage interactions with individuals exhibiting narcissistic traits. Remember that change takes time and dedication, but it's possible with the right support and commitment.
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Source: What is a narcissist?
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strawbiecream · 27 days ago
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(sorry if the ask came out of nowehere lmao, your design and arts gave me angst fuel) there's FR NO ANGST(or anything) of JohnJane so imma do it myself. This is a very basic AU idea following the idea of John gaining control over both his mind AND body (with a price ofc) so bear the lore with me. No one went on a round due to a very weird raining, but Jane ofc, who was gathering supplies when she found a very knocked out John (exhaustion).
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he did heard her comming and somehow managed to gather enough energy to try and stand up, as I said before, he gained control of his mind and by consequence his memories. so yay, depressive "I remember you." Jane couldn't leave him in the rain after they actually y'know, talked and had a heart to heart in the rain, even if everything was too much. so she came back to the cabin... with supplies AND a former killer.
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everything was chaotic even when Jane managed to explain everything, no one wanted a killer BUT John did seem very "pacific" and could actually understand them.
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she did convinced the survivors about letting him staying, but not in the house so hmmmm basement we go
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bonus pretty butch Jane
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omg.. johnjane in my ask inbox. ANGST TOO HUHHH kicking my feet with joy rn as im reading this,, also plz dont apologize for sending an ask i dont mind at all :33 i really love angst btw................ im very busy rn but i have some ideas in my head for angst.. rub hands mischievously
Long yapping down below
Ive read this like a few times and omg im very curious abt ur au rn like how did John regain his memory and control.. where did The Spectre go and WHAT IS the weird raining!!! (Does it affect other killers too!??) This mustve been so surreal for John, Jane and the survivors because thats a fucking killer in the cabin—a safe space for the survivors then he goes like "i wont kill anymore oka :("
The shirt rlly fits him btw because blame john. yeah. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 wait why did shedletsky gave him his shirt im just curiuos
Hey so this part had me in tears btw idk why but i love that the survivors dont trust him resulting in him locked away juuust in case. But hey atleast he will get to see Jane more now so a win? Where did the survivors even get that shackle anyways thats not the point but it does make me wonder if they will ever try to open up to him.. that poor old man mustve felt so guilty because of how fearful and cautious they are to him even when hes restrained now oooouuughhhhhhhuweuueeu
Hi, Jane. Hey.. uhm twirls hair and blinks with long eyelashes. THE SCARS TOO aw hell yeah i know someone who might enjoy this. I LOVE WOMEN I LOVE WOMEN go jane go!!!!!! God i love her sm
Btw i really love ur artstyle 🤤 and big john doe hm.. i exploded out of joy btw uuugghghghhh
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lancerslover · 5 months ago
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Sibling Rivalry - Part 1
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pairing: senator!john f. kennedy and bobby kennedy/reader
summary: senator jack kennedy and bobby kennedy both have an eye for you, and you can’t help but enjoy watching as they try to win your affection. but when the brothers’ competitive natures inevitably take over, you realize you might not have as much power in the situation as you thought.
warnings: 18+, nothing super graphic yet but descriptions of dub-con and infidelity
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this fic is based on this ao3 fic i read a while ago! i definitely recommend checking it out
sorry this took so long guys 😖 i decided to just go ahead and post it even though i’m not sure how i feel about it lol so plz let me know what you think. this may or may not be the worst thing i’ve ever written.
this section of the fic is basically just a set-up for the eventual smut, which will be in part 2 if you guys want it
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The hour or so you spend in Bobby’s office every evening is the only time all day you can relax. You know Bobby feels the same way. That’s part of the reason why he stays so late after the rest of his big brother’s campaign team is long gone. And since you’re his personal secretary, you feel obligated to stay with him. He’s told you before that you can go home with everyone else, that you don’t have to stay with him, but you always insist. You and he both know he could use all the help he can get as he blearily writes and re-writes strategy sheets or tallies up the daily budget in the growing darkness. And you both benefit greatly from what usually happens between you two after the day’s work is done. Your fingers massaging the stiff back of his neck, his lips warm on your skin. These methodical, intimate evenings are a welcome interlude between a long day of the raucous, back-slapping, wolf-whistling fraternity party that is Senator Jack Kennedy and the rest of his campaign team and a night full of giggly questions from your roommates about the newest juicy details of your job. Tell us one more time what it was like meeting Frank Sinatra. Is it true the senator is sleeping with his daughter’s babysitter? Is Jackie nice?
On this particular evening as you walk into Bobby’s office, having just completed the work you personally wanted to finish in order to get a headstart on the next day, you find yourself chuckling a little at the sight you’re greeted by. It’s only seven, and Bobby has already abandoned his desk for the sofa. Usually, he doesn’t take a break until closer to eight. As your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, you notice he’s leaning almost completely sideways on the armrest, his eyes closed, head slowly drooping off of the closed fist it’s propped up on. His gray-striped tie is a limp tangle on the floor. His dress shirt has been untucked from his slacks in what seems to have been a pretty violent manner—you notice that its bottom two buttons came undone in the process. His red, fuzzy lower belly is squishing out over his belt.
Just to make sure he’s not asleep, you whisper, “Bobby?”
In response, Bobby opens one eye, looks at you for a moment, then shuts it again in a playful, darting way, like he’s playing peek-a-boo with one of his hundreds of kids. Then he pats his hand on the cushion beside him, and you’re immediately starting towards him.
His office is snug, tucked in a literal corner of Senator Kennedy’s headquarters. Your only source of light as you pick your way through the towering stacks of paper all over the floor is the golden streetlamps of Boston outside the window, which look smeared now from the raindrops that streak down the glass. The only noises you hear are the scuff of your heels on the carpet and Bobby’s breath whistling faintly in and out of his nose.
Once you’ve sat down beside him and are wiggling out of your heels, he finally opens both eyes. You watch patiently as he slowly sits up and swings his heavy head to look at you. Poor thing. He gives you a soft smile, his big front teeth just barely peeking out under his lip. His fluffy hair is slightly mussed—and extra-fluffed—on the side he was just leaning on. You smile back.
“Tough day,” you say.
He blows his cheeks up with air and nods. “Yeah.” His voice is just a murmur, even though there’s really no need to be quiet since you two are the only ones left on the entire floor.
He’s been working extra late and extra hard now that the senator’s presidential election is only about a month away. This is quite an achievement, seeing as, even in the earliest days of the campaign, Bobby spent almost all day locked up in his office, tirelessly barking orders into one of the three constantly-ringing telephones on his desk or scribbling incessantly in the margins of a drafted campaign ad. Only every few hours would his door would bang open and he’d come stalking straight into the middle of where the rest of Senator Kennedy’s inner circle lounged, feet up, in a lazy haze of cigar smoke. Then Bobby would launch into a passionate explanation of whatever incompetent mistake on their part had prompted him to leave his office this time. You remember one specific afternoon when Bobby marched out, planted his hands on his hips, and said, “Alright, now, I just finished with that biography draft, and I want to know who approved it because it doesn’t do Jack justice at all. I mean, God, why mention the Addison’s?” One of the men replied, “Well, see here, that was my suggestion, Bobby. We need to get out in front of these things.” Naturally, an argument ensued. Bobby can be combative on a good day, but with the weight of the campaign largely on his shoulders, there was no way he’d be able to stop himself from spitting back a fiery retort at the other man’s condescending tone—and not to mention, he hates when men who aren’t his brothers call him “Bobby.”
As the yelling got louder and louder and all eight of Senator Kennedy’s henchmen eventually tossed their cigars aside and surged up on their feet to try their luck against Bobby’s razor-sharp Kennedy wit, Senator Kennedy himself simply observed from his desk like a Roman emperor watching his gladiators, leaning back in his chair, opening and closing his lips around his cigar. You knew better, though, than to ever let the senator’s laid-back mannerisms fool you. You clocked how his eyes were shrouded in a dark, calculating shadow, how they lingered on each of the nine men in turn. He was testing them, watching to see what they’d do, what positions they’d argue for. You could tell he was deeply focused. He never flinched or even so much as blinked as the men continued to yell and shake their fists and get closer and closer to each other’s faces. You doubted this sort of thing could be good for team morale, but you’ve accepted by now that it was Senator Kennedy’s strange, mysterious way of coming to a decision on something.
At one point during the dispute, the senator looked over at you and raised his eyebrows as if to say, Get a load of this, huh? You smirked coolly back at him, but a small shiver seared down your spine as you did. Nobody makes you nervous quite like he does. It’s sort of titillating, this power he has over you, but it’s also why, despite the senator’s movie-star smile and smooth one-liners, you’ve always felt more comfortable with Bobby.
After several minutes of watching the men yell, once he’d evidently seen enough to make whatever judgment he’d been ruminating on, Senator Kennedy stood up from his desk. The room snapped into a ringing silence.
The senator ran a hand through the little curls that framed his forehead, then nonchalantly said, “Bobby’s right.”
Another stunned beat of silence. Instinctively, you looked to Bobby, who simply sniffed and scratched his nose, seemingly as unfazed by the whole debacle as his big brother was.
One of the other men, Bobby’s brother-in-law Steve, bravely piped up, “But, Jack—”
Senator Kennedy cut him off. “It’s the presidency, gentlemen,” he told them wryly. “Don’t overthink it.” And with that, he huffed back into his chair. Then, almost as an afterthought, he pointed a long finger towards Bobby, and with a barely perceptible teasing bounce in his voice, said, “Alright, back to your corner.”
Bobby chuckled and spun on his heel towards his office. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Bobby drops this tough, Irish-bulldog exterior around you. You’ve gotten pretty comfortable with each other in the past few weeks, ever since Bobby told Senator Kennedy that he needed his own personal secretary and that he’d chosen you for the job. This announcement, which you overheard from across the room at the little clump of secretary desks, was a bit of a surprise to you, despite the fact that it was well-known that you were the best typist in the office. It definitely wasn’t an unwelcome surprise, though. You’ve always been fond of Bobby. You think it’s sweet how he talks to you and the other girls in such an innocent, genuine way, like he’s actually interested in your secretarial skills and what you have to say instead of just your body and your face, unlike certain other members of the campaign.
It was immediately obvious, though, that your sudden closeness to Bobby agitated Senator Kennedy. Since you’re the only secretary who hasn’t slept with him yet, the senator has a particular fixation on you, and Bobby knows this well. You had to bite back a giddy smile that afternoon when you saw how the senator’s eyebrows dropped low over his face as Bobby informed him of your new job title. “Personal secretary, huh?” the senator sneered, teeth flashing. Bobby simply grinned.
Bobby and the senator were intensely, at times comically, competitive. You’ve heard them go back and forth over such trivial things as who played better in a weekend family football game or who could read the morning newspaper faster. Once Bobby made you his personal secretary, though, more and more often they’ve been going back and forth over you.
From day one of the campaign, practically, Senator Kennedy has been pursuing you relentlessly, looming over you, tugging at a loose strands of your hair as he teases you for coming in late, unashamedly eyeing the way your ass moves in your pencil skirt, saying things like, “Nothing makes my day like seeing that pretty smile of yours, sweetie.” And the longer you pretend not to notice his advances, the more relentless he is, and, admittedly, the more you find yourself wanting to drive him crazy. It’s fun for you, and honestly quite flattering, that you can get him all riled up by simply brushing against his shoulder as you drop a paper on his desk and whispering breathily in his ear, “Here you are, Senator. Anything else I can do for you?” You can’t get enough of the incredulous look that takes over his handsome, always-nonchalant face—his nostrils flaring, his eyebrows raising, his eyes firing up like a cat who caught sight of a mouse—afterward as you skitter away. On a serious note, though, you figure you’re actually doing him a service by holding out like this. The way he acts with women is absurdly arrogant. He’s like a spoiled child, always getting everything he wants. Secretaries. Call girls. Actresses. All delivered to him, pretty much, at the flick of his hand. You figure it’d be good for him to not get something he wants for once, all flirtations and teasing aside.
You came dangerously close to having your vow of celibacy broken at a celebratory dinner party a few months back. The senator followed you to the back hall as you were about to leave, pushed you up against the wall, and before you even knew what was happening, he stuck his hand up your dress. He’d had a little too much to drink that evening, and he was like a wild animal in that dark, empty hallway. Tearing at your stockings, practically snarling in your ear, cursing you for “driving him crazy” at the office.
“Senator,” you gasped, “please—”
“Please what?” he scoffed. “You think you can act like a little harlot all the time and nothing’s going to happen to you?”
After a moment, your inner desires took over and you gave up resisting. You spread your thighs and let him finger you. It’s not your proudest moment. You hated to let him have that little victory over you, but with the entirety of his body weight against you and his big hands holding you still, there was really no way you could’ve stopped him, even if you’d wanted to.
This game you have with Senator Kennedy has been taken to a whole new level now that you’ve actively chosen to spend almost all your time with Bobby. You can tell by the way the senator shakes his head as he watches you and Bobby walk around together, like you’re two little children misbehaving under his watch, that this is really grating on his competitive side. Bobby doesn’t help matters with the way he smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at the senator when he thinks you’re not looking. Sometimes, the senator will tease Bobby by saying things like, “Don’t you think it’s, uh, a little unfair that you’re not letting anyone else work with our best typist?” or “I’m starting to doubt whether you two are actually getting any work done. Don’t make me take Y/N away from you, Bobby. She’s just on loan, you know.” Bobby does his best to appear to be the mature one in front of you, opting to half-playfully shove the senator with his shoulder as he walks by instead of snapping back some kind of retort.
You still aren’t entirely sure what Bobby’s real motives were for picking you as his secretary, whether it had purely been about spiting the senator, or he’d genuinely admired your skills, or he’d planned to turn your evenings together into sexual rendezvous all along and he was much more like his brother than you thought.
But since, in the process of this whole thing, you’ve developed a genuine relationship with Bobby—and it’s pretty clear, you think, that he has bested his big brother in this little game—you suppose his pushing back against the senator has more to do with the pure competitive spirit of it all at this point than any possessiveness he might feel over you. But still, you get out such a kick out of the fact that they never fail to play right into your hand when you pit them against each other, flirting with one brother in front of the other, making flippant comments to the senator about how wonderful your evenings alone with Bobby are.
Sometimes, though, your confidence in your femme-fatale abilities wavers slightly. Almost daily, Bobby and the senator will convene at the senator’s desk for an intense, private conversation about what you originally assumed was various campaign matters, but every once in a while, you’ll glance up during one of these conversations to find them both looking at you from across the room. The senator will mutter something, and Bobby will nod, and the low sound of their confident, patronizing male laughter will rumble across the office. You instantly drop your eyes back to whatever memo you’re working on, heart suddenly racing. What on earth could they be saying? And why do you have the creeping feeling that this game isn’t going to be so easy for you much longer?
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thank you for reading!!
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taglist:
@evie-gets-bitches
@kennediva
@secretwonderlandcheesecake
@melancholicstation
@southernpopprincess
@maudesgf
@neverellaxx11
@astro-vibes-bro
@h-l-vlovesvintage
@fortheloveofjos
@saturns-flowers
@raspberryknees
143 notes · View notes
tolkienpinupcalendar · 6 months ago
Text
Sluttiest Tolkien Character: THE SEMIFINALS (Round 6)
Finwe vs Turin
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art by @fil3t ; @redreyenotarget
Propaganda under the cut ↓
Finwe:
Listen...I wouldn't fuck him, but he's the only canonical elf who could reasonably be accused of sluttiness, LaCE compliant
The only elf to canonically have two spouses. Also, the dude had five kids when all the other Unbegotten Elves had 1-3 (Elwë & Luthien, Ingwë & Ingwion. Olwë had 3 kids). Also also, he basically let his kids do whatever they wanted, even withholding a scolding when Kid #1 pointed a sword at Kid #3. It seems like Finwë just had kids for the sake of Doing The Do with his wife and having a big family for no canonical reason.
Literally petitioned the Valar to change the law to allow him to marry again
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#the gods literally rewrote elven law because of this guy's dick. cmon. #he couldn't keep it in his pants to save his (or miriel's) life
#he changed the history of the elves by not being able to leave his d in his pants #like he didn't have some special power or a world changing plan he just wanted to do the deed lmao
#channeling my inner valinorean aristocrat hearing of the noldor king's scandalous remarriage for the first time and voting finwe
#guys PLZ finwe was the first slut he invented it
#we gotta respect the OG #known mostly for fathering kids with multiple women?!
#i barely go here and dven I know finwe deserves this
Turin:
he’s got more hoes than names. almost everybody he meets immediately wants to fuck him. man or woman, elf or human, noldo or sinda, none are immune to joining his army of simps. elves don’t even care if he’s a doom magnet bc he’s just too irresistible to them. they’ll choose his hot human ass over wisdom any day. both a father and his daughter want him. elves see him and immediately forget about the laws and customs. WHO else is doing it like him?
#EVERYONE who met turin wanted him #wherever he went he got people fucked over because they were so Down Bad for him
#androg was not Like That over turin and beleg for turin not to win
#turin’s sluttiness has a body count both ways 
#turin’s so irresistible he banged his own sister #granted neither knew they were siblings #but dude had everyone ready to risk it all(and die horribly usually because of it) for him
every single elf Túrin meets either wants to adopt him or get in his pants. everyone who fucks him dies horribly, but #worthit. an engaged couple broke up because they both wanted a piece of that hot human ass. his dick caused the fall of a kingdom. literally so sexy he caused political turmoil. he died young but he made every slutty, slutty year count. he’s also pretty heavily queer coded, as close to bisexual as you can get in a story written in 1917. 
111 notes · View notes
crushmeeren · 2 months ago
Note
HI CRUSH !!!! congrats on 5k followers omg??
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for the event, may i pretty please request a short drabble/oneshot for katsuki centered around the song teenage dream by katy perry!! (esp the first verse hehe its very bakudoll coded > <)
honestly i just chose this song cuz its very cutesy and fun but id like if the piece had some sort of connection to the line "i know you get me, so i let my walls come down, down" for bakugou !! other than that, very light and fluffy and silly :3
very veyryervrv excited to see what u make!!! plz have fun with this hehe MWAH ! congrats again my love !! <3
thank you so much dolly!!!!! that song flashes me back to middle school lmao when i was having my first crushes, it makes me nostalgic c:
i will keep it connected to that line for sure!! <3 i hope you enjoy!
p.s. those pics are killing me lmao
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⋆ ⋆˙⟡ i know you get me, so i let my walls come down
| teenage dream ; katy perry |
Carnivals are on the bottom of the list labeled “things Katsuki actually fucking enjoys”.
He’s hell bent that they’re a waste of his hard earned free time. All he does is work. Which, he thinks with no small amount of irritation, consists of fighting in the heat, sweating, dealing with civilians that are a pain in his ass, and answering stupid questions.
Katsuki does the same shit at a carnival.
Every time he’s been dragged along to one by Kirishima he’s left feeling worse than when he arrived. Not to mention the food is complete and utter unhealthy trash.
So, one late Friday evening, Katsuki finds himself shocked to the core when he’s at a carnival with you and he’s…. enjoying himself. It makes him shiver.
You’re standing at the edge of the pier, taking an overdue break from the rides, and animatedly explaining to Katsuki about how your coworker had done something funny during the day.
“Anyhow,” you say, tossing a piece of pink cotton candy into your mouth. “I really can’t believe they didn’t get hurt,” you giggle, offering the sweet treat to Katsuki.
He doesn’t respond at first, heart pounding as he stares at you. Katsuki can taste the salty spray of the ocean from here, seagulls singing in the background. You told him it helps cool you off from the summer heat, that you’re glad the sun is setting for the evening.
Lucky for Katsuki the the orange sunset makes you glow. You’re an angel in his eyes. And, suddenly, he can’t stand the idea that this night will end.
Katsuki loved strolling the carnival, fingers threaded through yours. He loved riding the ferris wheel, throwing an arm around your shoulders and laughing when you squeal about how high up you are. He loved playing shitty games that cost too much money if it means winning you the stuffed animal you begged him for.
And sure, he’s sweaty as fuck, the people are annoying, but it doesn’t get under his skin so bad.
Katsuki snatches a piece of your cotton candy and pops it in his mouth, letting the pure sugar slowly melt on his tongue, pondering.
“What��s up with you Kat?” You tease, elbowing him. “You’re so quiet tonight.”
He smiles. A real smile, one full of warmth and love. “Nothing… I’m having fun.” He shrugs.
“Really?” You ask, excitement creeping into your voice. “You hate these kinds of things!”
“Fuck yeah I do,” he agrees. “But not with you, doll.” He lifts a hand to cradle the side of your face, thumb swiping over your cheek bone. “Nobody else makes me feel so alive.”
You press into his touch, flushing to the tips of your ears. “I feel the same way,” you assure with a smile.
Katsuki can’t ever let you go, won’t ever let this go. He dips down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, dropping his hand. “Want to see if I can make a fool of those fuckers at the ring toss stand again?”
You agree with ease, snatching his hand, yanking and telling him to hurry up before the line gets too long.
Katsuki wins you three stuffed bunnies.
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⋆ ⋆˙⟡ 5k event
ah, doll, bestie, i hope i was able to convey what you wanted without explicitly stating it. <3
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starillusion13 · 1 year ago
Note
Yunho×reader fic,where yn is divorced from mingi,and yunho is also divorced(Both are recently divorced).
Mingi wants yn back,so he calls her to meet in a resto,but there she meets yh who is an old frnd,they greet e/o. Mg gets a Lil jealous....(This was just a beginning in my head)
Can u make it plz(if u hav time)
Never Yours
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Pairing: bff!Yunho x f! reader (husband! Mingi x wife! reader: divorced)
Genre: Fluff, slight angst, bff2l
Warning: Mingi is a toxic husband here, using reader’s feelings, neglecting and ignoring the reader…basically he is a bad guy who doesn’t know how to care for others. Shouting in public, divorce, bestfriends to lovers, confession, fluffy moments. Except for the angst scenes, everything is pretty normal.
W.C: 4.6k Network: @k-vanity
[Please read the note in the end.]
🫧
“y/n, this is not working how I wanted.”
How he wanted…
Your husband’s sudden serious tone made you look towards the entrance of your bedroom, knowing all the unspoken words behind that particular sentence. Not working--- nothing works between you two after the marriage. Why didn’t one of you think about this before everything started? It started out as a normal hangout with both of you meeting each other at Yunho’s house and that’s how some common topic sparked a connection between you and Mingi.
Yunho has been your best friend since elementary school and when he found out about your little affection towards his friend, he obviously supported your feelings, of course hiding his own behind the smile.
Still, he warned you about Mingi’s irrational behaviors and his characters that he and other friends find a bit problematic to deal with. But you ignored these comments. Love is blind. You never noticed that Mingi’s attraction towards you was not out of love but a pure obsession. He observed his friend’s subtle glances towards you and your oblivion self not noticing the obvious state of your best friend. And that’s how he took the best opportunity to approach you, to get so near to you that it made Yunho distant even farther from where he was.
Mingi is always a step ahead from his friend and so he successfully blocked Yunho’s perspectives from your eyes. He treated you like a princess in his university days. You three were always seen together but after getting into the relationship with the youngest one, Yunho made himself busy with joining a painting class. You are well aware of his passion for paintings and pouring his emotions into it.
Three years of university love led to the day of marriage.
You still remember the look Yunho gave you when he handed you an invitation card on the day of your wedding. Your confused eyes staring at him earned a chuckle and he patted your head, “come to my wedding……with Mingi.”
“your wedding? All of a sudden?”
He gulped and nodded before turning around and disappearing into the crowd of people spread across the grand hall. Mingi came up beside you, snaking a hand around your waist, following your way of vision, finding no one particular in sight and glancing towards the envelope in your hold.
“What's this, love?”
He noticed your absence of response and pulled you closer to repeat the question when you glanced at him and to your hand, “Yunho’s wedding invitation card.”
He smiled, “oh…he is marrying? So sudden?”
“yeah, I asked him about this but he didn’t say anything.”
He kissed the side of your head, “let’s not think about this. This is our day.”
Yeah, that was the only last day when it felt like yours.
You loved Mingi with all your heart but for him it was all just a game of obsession. To win everything over his friend. Not into marriage for more than a year, he started to show his hidden true self which was all hidden behind his façade of love.
The glints of his unusual behavior were all displayed in front of you since the first day but you never cared to notice them because you loved him. you wanted him as a part of your life. You wanted his love.
You noticed him staying outside the house longer than usual. Him ignoring your texts and calls and blaming you for the roughness in your relationship.
The same remark—the relationship between you both is not working how he wanted. How did he want it? And what about your side? Does he care to listen to you? Simply, No.
He never cared for you. You were a bait for his pride. Getting the most popular girl of the campus and the beautiful girlfriend making him a lucky bastard in his friend’s group was all he wanted. The hurt and lost expression on Yunho’s face was enough to boost his ego. Smirking to himself, he pats his friend’s back, “get a girl, dude. You look so lonely these days. What happened?”
Yunho would glance at his friend and just smile.
 ‘You took away the most precious part of my life.’
.
.
.
It’s been six months that you have parted your ways with Mingi. One might wonder how you got out of his obsession. Lily, the only daughter of the rich business partner, offered a huge deal of money and who is he to ignore the offer. His statement that you both are not working together leads to the divorce between you two. You didn’t question him and never tried to reason to try it in a different way.
You didn’t even cry because all those sleepless nights and hopeless days have not left a single piece of feelings to stay back in yourself. You left his house without turning towards him for the last time. And he didn’t even call you back when you closed the door behind your back.
It was a Saturday afternoon when you were chatting with your school friend when you suddenly got a text from a person whom you didn’t want to keep in touch with but somehow it turned out that it was not the same from his end.
‘Can you meet me today?’
Why? You wanted to ask him. your fingers trembled and tears slid down your cheeks, remembering how he texted you for the first time after he got your number.
‘Hey! It’s nice to meet you.’
You should not have proceeded your friendship from that part. You should have just remained as a passing stranger or a casual friend. 
You stared at the message of him texting you to meet him today. All of a sudden? Why? You don’t know, not even having a hint of the meaning of his text. Before you could dwell on the thought more, your phone started vibrating, indicating you had a call. The same person. Your mind didn’t process what to do further and you swiped the call button to green.
“hello, y/n.”
Why does his voice still have the same effect on you like it had during the university days? Why is he making you regret leaving him? Why do you still care for him? why?
Why can’t you forget him?
“Mingi…”
“Are you free today?” His voice was low and he was patiently speaking to you as if there was no hurry like the other days when he didn’t have a bit of a time to look at you for a second.
“yes.”
“can you please meet me today at your favorite restaurant?”
“but we are no longer like before. Don’t forget you gave up on me.” you pressed your lips tight and prevented yourself from crying into the call. You couldn’t let him know about your weakness. You don’t want to feel stupid, the way you were stupid in love with him. even though you wanted to say so many things to him yet you decided to stay silent, hearing him calling your name when your tears were flowing down your cheeks.
“please…we should talk about everything. You didn’t utter a word when you left me.”
I left him? And he did nothing? It was not his fault? He is not guilty for anything. So he is blaming you for all these?
“There's nothing to talk about. we are done.”
“please. I want to say sorry.” He quickly murmured his apology when you denied to meet him.
After a few more requests, you agreed to meet him in the evening. When you agreed to meet him, he quickly cut the call. As expected from him. Why did you agree to meet him? Are you out of your mind? What will you do? What will you say after meeting him? you don’t know but still you want to clear your mind off and there’s so much to confront him.
Back of your head hit the mattress and your blank eyes staring at the ceiling, when the thought of your best friend came across your mind. After both of your marriages, you never contacted him because he changed his contact details, isn't active on social media and also moved to a different country with his wife. Mingi doesn’t like you to have contact with any other boy and so you didn’t want to try to contact him.
The last shared moment between you both was—
“Congratulations, Yunho. I wish you a great and happy life ahead.”
He smiled and rested his palm over your cheek, thumb caressed the skin and his eyes following how your eyes were sparkling and you were smiling brightly at him. you were glowing in front of him.
“I hope you are happy, y/n.”
no other shiny thing could compare your radiance and he knew one thing.
Mingi is really a lucky bastard. He always gets everything whatever he wanted before him.
How is Yunho doing out there? He must be very happy with his wife. It’s been two years since you have last seen him, talked to him.
.
.
.
A simple straight peach coloured knee length dress with a little no-makeup look with your hairs resting on your shoulder, you reached the restaurant.
As soon as you entered the glass doors, you looked around to find the familiar face which you swore once to never come across again but here you are searching for him again. You stopped in your tracks when you found him sitting at the table near the wide window. You took a step back when you found him smiling with someone on the call and you thought to turn around and return back home.
But your trance broke when someone held your forearm and whispered your name, “y/n…”
You quickly glanced to your side, eyes going wide when you noticed who the person was.
“Yunho… is this real?”
He nodded and left your hand when he noticed the table at the far end where you were looking at previously. But to his surprise, you hugged him and pressed your face against his chest, “ I missed you, Yunho. Where were you all these years?”
Hesitatingly, he raised his hand to pat your head. The warmth of your body against him, the tears staining his shirt and your fist clutching him. the main reason for your tears was meeting him after years or you were overwhelmed with Mingi’s apology?
Actually you wanted an embrace in which you could cry. And you chose to let your heart out to Yunho in spite of Mingi. He caressed your hair, few people glanced in your direction but neither you nor Yunho cared about it. He was desperate to know everything from you, he could feel that you were crying not only because of him but there’s something more you were hiding. He knows you too well, more than yourself.
When his eyes again went to that table, he saw the raging eyes glaring back at him. Mingi was not happy with the moment you both were sharing. As if you would love the moment with him. He stood straight from his chair, keeping his eyes fixed on you and started walking towards you.
Yunho averted his eyes from his friend and looked down at you, stroking your hair, he whispered, “y/n, Mingi is here. He doesn’t like us to meet like this.”
You shook your head in his embrace, refusing to part from him when he tried to pull you back. He was confused yet deep down he wanted to hold you close like this the whole day. Whatever he wants with you is always achieved by his friend and it makes him feel jealous to say less. He wants to steal you from him. even if it’s possible. What about you? Would you like to accept him the way he wants you?
“Yunho, long time no see. How come you are here in this country? Vacation?”
Mingi’s voice bloomed in the light chatter of the people surrounding you. As a reactive action, you pulled apart from Yunho and stayed beside him, looking down and collecting your composure.
Yunho forced a little smile and nodded, “yeah. I’m on a vacation, just to spend time in my home country for a while and then go back.” You could hear a hidden hurt in his voice, you both have spent so much time to notice this even after so many years.
“Where is your wife? I don’t think she would like to see you here being so close to another woman.” Mingi had a mockery in his tone. He never leaves a chance to make Yunho realize that you are not his and never would be.
Yunho cleared his throat and replied, “we are divorced.”
Divorced?
“divorced?” your soft voice made him look at you and he smiled before patting your head. His usual activity whenever something problematic is going on in your life or his and he would pat your head as a sign not to worry about it. He would be fine and could handle it on his own. “What happened, Yunho?”
Mingi chuckled irritatedly. You mentally scoffed at the audacity of him laughing at the situation.
“don’t worry about him, y/n. I suppose he will get another one.”
“Shut up, Mingi. Don’t think everyone is like you. I wonder how you both are friends when he is so unlike you.”
“y/n-“
“no, Yunho. Let me speak. I have had enough. Enough of him.” you raised your voice making the oldest quiet and confused while the youngest one had a wide smirk on his face. He was enjoying the scene you were creating in front of all the people in the restaurant. You could feel the stares and low whispers all around but you were on your spot and wouldn’t let this chance slip to make him realize, “stop your games here, Mingi. Nothing is serious to you in this life. You seem to believe everyone and everything to be working according to you. No, it’s not. You are wrong here.”
“and what makes my wife believe that this is wrong?” Mingi folded his hands and titled his head when he chuckled, clearly amused by your act.
You hissed and grabbed the collar of his black shirt and glared, “I am not your wife anymore. Don’t forget that you and I are not related anymore. And I regret the fact that I even have to associate myself to you as your ex-wife. I regret everything. I regret my six years because of being with you. You destroyed my life, Mingi.”
Ex-wife…you are divorced. This news was shocking to Yunho and the way he was looking at you didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He clenched his jaw when he felt that he still has that adoration and love in his eyes for you. Tears were flowing down your eyes and you cared less for your appearance because you wanted to care for your heart which was lost in an endless feeling of hurt.
“Because of you, I did everything that you have told me. I have loved you so much that I distanced myself from everyone because you never liked others to be around me. I was blind to notice that you wanted me as your puppet and all you wanted to show off to others. You have used me in every step of your life, in the end, you blamed me that our relationship is not working because of me. It's because it's not working how you wanted. And what about me? Have you ever thought about what I even wanted? Why did you make me dream of things which you will never be part of? Why Mingi why?”
You were shouting at this point and Mingi was losing his temper hearing your words. Each word slipping out your mouth was irritating him. He himself knew that you were not his love but his obsession. A game to win. To win over Yunho.
“what the fuck are you saying, y/n? be in your limits.”
“I won’t.”
“y/n-“
 A loud sound echoed in the area. You slapped him. the thing which you would have done long ago. You don’t know from where you got the sudden courage today but you were proud of yourself to not hesitate to let it all out. You needed this and now a little relief settled inside you.
But the thing you didn’t expect is an arm wrapping around your shoulders and a pair of lips touching the side of your head with a whisper, “My good girl.” Looking towards the owner, you realized Yunho was smiling at you but before you could say anything he looked back at Mingi and glared.
“I suppose this hurts your ego and image so if you still want to insult yourself you can stay here. But I won’t let her be here anymore, especially with you. I don’t know what exactly happened between you two but I know for her happiness and to see her smile, I can do anything.” Yunho pointed a finger at his friend, “and I won’t ever let a single drop of tears fall from her eyes. And the things you did to her, I will make you regret it.”
“She is not yours.” Mingi rubbed his cheek and brushed his shirt. Mingi smirked when he saw the fuming rage of Yunho hearing his statement but Yunho chuckled, making you both confused.
“and you couldn’t keep her as yours.”
When the youngest extended his hand to grab your bicep, Yunho grabbed his wrist and clenched his jaw, “don’t even fucking touch her. Get lost from here.” He breathed heavily and continued, “I don’t fucking care where you want to go but we are leaving this place right now.”
“Yunho-“
“Keep quiet, y/n. we are leaving unless you want to repeat the mistake again.” He has never spoken to you in such a low and demanding way. He waited for your move to see if you refused to go away from him but you squeezed his hand tight and nodded, which as a signal to him, he smirked at Mingi.
He took your hand in his and turned around but as soon as he stepped outside the glass doors, he pointed at a particular car and told you to go there and he would be coming in two minutes. The hesitation of being left alone was well aware to him and he himself didn’t want to leave you but he had to go inside for once. Eventually you stepped towards the car and his eyes followed until you stood beside it and looked at him. He gave you a smile and went inside the doors again, he met Mingi on the way and stopped him.
“why the hell are you here?” Mingi asked in a frustrated way.
Yunho chuckled and patted his shoulder, “just to let you know one final thing. Even if you tried to win her over me. she was never yours. She was always mine to start with and I got her back from you.” Giving a final smile, he went back to his car.
As soon as he reached near it, he saw you petting a cat and wiping your tears.
“y/n…let’s go somewhere.”
You stood up straight and furrowed your brows, “where? I don’t want to be a bother.”
“y/n, have I ever told you that you are a bother to me? ever in this whole life since the day we first met in our childhood.” He smiled softly and cupped your cheeks. You shook your head and smiled when he planted a soft kiss on your forehead.
It took almost thirty minutes to arrive at the cliff. Both of your favorite places and the place where you could relive your memories. You were lost in your thoughts until he opened the door for you and extended his hand with a smile on his face.
Standing at the edge of the cliff, you let the fresh cold air caress your face with closed eyes. Yunho was enjoying the city view from where he was leaning against his car and his way of vision stopped at you, a smile automatically spread across his face. He admires you a lot…hell…he loves you a lot.
“y/n…”
“How is life, Yunho? Is it different from how you thought?” you asked him and turned towards him, mimicking his posture against the car.
He bit his lips and looked up at the sky, “I don’t know. I felt like I was lost when you got married.” He looked towards you and smiled, “I felt I am nothing without you.”
You laughed at him, if it were other times, you would have teased him for these lines but somehow neither of you were joking right now and you both were well aware of this. You are lost without him too.
“Me too.” You breathed out.
He furrowed his brow, “what do you mean?”
You took his hand and stared at it. The size difference between you both always makes you smile and it still has the same effect on you, “I have not seen you for years and today I feel like I got myself back again. Thank you.”
“what happened between you and him?” he was hesitant to ask but still as your best friend, he felt like asking you, to know what made you two separate…for good. At Least he was glad that you got to know about his real intentions maybe.
“Have you ever fallen in love?” your sudden question perked his ear up and he inhaled when your innocent childish face flashed in front of his eyes…the first time he saw you in the school courtyard. He nodded, “yes.”
“did you feel like you got everything you wanted?”
I got you but you never were mine.
“Maybe…” he wanted to say more than a word but your questions were puzzling his mind and not getting the answers he wanted. “But why are you asking me this?”
“coz Yunho…I felt like I was in paradise when I fell in love with Mingi. I had everything and I was happy…but I didn’t realize it was all just an illusion to trap me in his game. I was blind for him. I ignored you for him. I gave up everything for him. I couldn’t differentiate between right and wrong. I was lost in a void of lie. I-“
He pulled you in front of him and hugged you tight, pressing a long kiss on top of your head, “I know, y/n…it’s okay. You are here with me. We are here together. He can’t separate us again.”
“he was everything to me…but I was never his.”
“but you are always mine. Sorry if I’m late.” His arms around you tightened and your hold faltered. Mine?
You looked up and he was smiling but still you could see tears, “why are you crying, Yunho? Aren’t you my strong boy?” you wiped his tears. You haven’t seen him so weak in front of you. In childhood days, he had cried to you so many times but as you both grew up, he became a tougher and stronger guy, hiding his emotions behind his smile and always distracting you from all the negativity by his goofy side.
“I love you, y/n. I love you so much. Fuck…whenever you are with me, I feel like to keep you away from everyone. Today, after all these years, I realized how much I love you even more than I could realize. I think about you everyday. I have loved you everyday and I don’t why you are the only one who can make me feel like this.”
You cupped his cheek and he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of your palm, “I married her to get over the fact that I was deeply in love with you. Seeing you in the bridal look made me realize that you won’t be ever mine. I have lost you. You were standing there in the most mesmerizing look with a hope in your sparkling eyes for him…not for me.”
“Yunho…”
He opened his eyes to meet your starry eyes under the night sky, “you could have said to me earlier.”
“but I was never yours.”
“And I was never his. I was just an obsession.” Tears fell from your eyes.
He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, “but you are my dream. Everyday I felt like to fall asleep forever just to see you for once where you are mine.”
“kiss me, Yunho. Don’t wait any more, you have already wasted these years. Before you lose me forever, make me yours. Make me feel like how it is to be someone’s dream.” You smiled before he pulled you in a kiss.
A kiss for which he waited from the day he tried to confess to you.
So this is how it’s like to be yours, y/n.
The slow rhythm of lips, the desire in each other’s embrace, the warmth of love, the admiration in their eyes and moreover the love they can feel in the kiss. The cold air surrounding the warm embrace they were sharing under the dark night with twinkling stars like the twinkling hope for each other.
Parting from the kiss, he pecked your lips and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.
“I don’t want to lose you ever. From now on, wherever you go, I go.”
“I love you, Yunho. I should have realized this back then when I had a crush on you but I always thought that you were interested in other girls and I was just a best friend. I was so shocked that you never told me about your lover but suddenly handed me your wedding invitation.”
“I never loved her.”
“So you only married her to forget me. Using her?” You stared at his brown orbs and glanced how his brown hair was blowing in the wind.
He shook his head, “no. She knew it already. She even stayed up late at night when I couldn’t fall asleep. She was a good person and I helped her to run away with her lover. It was all planned to settle in a different country.”
“Thank you, Yunho. You still remained as a good person, a person I fell in love with. I don’t want to lose you too. You are perfect, Yunho and this hurts me.”
“You are my perfect dream.”
“But I exist in reality.” You chuckled lightly and he laughed heartily before pulling you to his chest.
You tightened your grip around his body when he hummed and resteda his chin on top of your head, “tell me I am not dreaming like always and you are finally mine. I am yours and he didn’t snatch you away from me.”
You kissed his chest, “even if this is a dream. Let’s not wake up together. Let’s be like this forever and dream of each other like this. You are mine and I’m yours, Yunho.”
“I always felt like I was never yours but now I feel like to be with you for eternity. Let’s run away.”
You smiled and closed your eyes in his embrace, “together.”
[Anon <3 I hope this is okay with you. I feel so emotional whenever I write for Yunho. I should declare officially that he is my bias. Anyways he is MY MAN 🎀]
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Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. So basically I guess you have come across my recent posts regarding me abandoning all my smut fics and drafts coz of an issue. But yeah! There’s a thing I can do, I can omit the smut parts and post the fics. How about it? Would you guys still read it?
Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg
[open!]
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rizzkisworld · 2 years ago
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Sentiments - Nishimura Riki
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Pairing: bf! Niki x fem! Reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
author's note: me re-entering my uploading era 🤩 plz reblog/give feedback if you like this because it really helps writers continue and motivates them tyvm!
Your smile brought so much happiness to Riki's life. Whenever he was sad, he'd look at you. The way his emotions did a full 180 real quick. He doesn't know what it is about your smile. Maybe it's because you look so happy and pretty. All he knows is that it makes him want to do whatever he can to make you smile. He starts acting extra goofy around you, he starts giving you random kisses to see the way you get shy and look away (as if your cuteness doesn't make him feel shy sometimes-), he gives you random hugs to see you smile. He even tickles you sometimes even though you scold him about it afterwards.... lovingly though of course.
Cuddling with you is how he wants to spend the rest of his life. Having his arms around you or you having your arms around him. The position doesn't matter as long as he's with you. However, he does love it when you bury your face in his neck or chest. The way you feel safe when you're in that special spot. It makes him want to protect you because you're so precious to him. He definitely is a huge fan of back hugging you of course. He gets to kiss your neck, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and rest his face in the crook of your neck. You can expect him to cuddle and hug you whenever he's with you, cause Riki don't play about his cuddles.
Pictures of you on his phone are his favorites. Everytime he scrolls through his gallery, all he sees is pictures of you. Some are secret pictures he took of you because you're so attractive to him no matter what. He has you as his lock screen to be honest. You're his model and he's the photographer.
The moments when you cry, though it hurts him (unless they're tears of joy), it makes him happy that you feel comfortable enough to share your emotions with him. He always wants you to feel your best and he'll do whatever he can to make you happy. But when you're having one of those days, no matter what the reason may be, he's always there to listen, to care for you, to help you any way he can. These are the moments his maturity really shows. He just loves you so much! (I need a Niki so bad rn 😔)
Play fighting with you is a must! You guys take it real seriously. There's three ways your fights usually go. One, he's the one winning, though you're doing your absolute best to fight him off meanwhile he's just smiling at you and admiring your beauty all while you're desperately trying to win the fight. Two, he's winning, but starts feeling bad that you're losing and boom, he either lets you win or it switches to you guys making out. Three, you're winning, not sure if he's letting you win or you just really snuck him, but either way it's good(Ive reference anyone?)
Late night walks and talks are your favorite! You already told him everything and vice versa, yet you still find something to talk about together. At this point it's nonsense and gibberish that only you two understand. You definitely get midnight snacks and meals. All of this is really just to say that Riki loves you a lot and shares so many sentiments with you.
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Again it's greatly appreciated if you reblog this if you enjoyed! It helps put writers works out there and it encourages us to put more content out there~~
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johnwickb1tsch · 11 months ago
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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 40 all chapters
WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘
40. parlay
At last the time has come. 
On the roof, you are all sitting around Winston’s behemoth of a conference table. There’s an early fall chill in the air, but the sky is blue. The High Table’s Adjudicator sits at the head. Winston her opposite. John and you to her right, which you hope is significant. D’Antonio to her left, across from John, and the Camorra bosses across from you.
Earlier, Dante d’Antonio tried to make a stink about falling into the pool, claiming Wick struck him, but everyone with any authority ignored him. 
In fact, all the adults at the table seem pretty fed up with young Dante d’Antonio’s loud complaints. 
The fact that his mother momentarily sat at the High Table doesn’t seem to help the kid out much. The two emissaries from the Camorra, who are not d’Antonios but rank highly in their clan, seem equally contemptuous. According to Winston, the twenty-something has proved more pain-in-the-neck than asset to his syndicate’s endeavors. Apparently they are honor bound to take care of the kid, but he’s not making it easy by half.  
Maybe he’d thought to win some respect by being the one who finally took down John Wick while restoring his family’s honor, but it seems like his fellow Camorra are not having it. They glare at him from across the table, exuding annoyance. You don’t speak Italian, but you’re pretty sure they’ve told him to shut the fuck up at least twice. They clearly want to be anywhere but here. 
“Normally the High Table would not concern itself with such petty squabbles such as this,” begins the Adjudicator, looking pointedly at young d’Antonio. “But due to the…incendiary potential of the parties involved…” This time they glare at John. “We would like to resolve this issue quickly, and peacefully.”
D’Antonio erupts, unable to contain himself. “He killed my mother! I have every right to seek revenge!” 
“I was fulfilling a marker to your uncle, Santino d’Antonio. I didn’t want to, but I followed the rules of the Table. I should be absolved.”
The young man breaks out yelling in Italian, gesturing wildly, and the Camorra emissaries start yelling down the table at d’Antonio. It’s all you can do to just sit still and watch, doing your best to play it cool.  
“Shut. Up!” snarls the Adjudicator, banging their hand on the table. The roof falls silent. “This situation is further complicated by the fact that Wick has won his freedom from the High Table. We are bound to honor that, and by we that includes you, d’Antonio.” 
“I am honor bound to defend my family.”
“I understand that you’re in pain,” says John with surprising empathy. “Gianna was my friend. I was the bullet, but your Uncle Santino pulled the trigger. I killed him for it in this very hotel. I avenged us both. Let’s let it go.”
Dante glares across the table at John. His pupils are the size of saucers, and you wonder if drugs have something to do with young D’Antonio’s erratic behavior.  “You wish it was that simple, old man. I will have my vengeance!” 
That’s when it all goes to hell. 
The idiotic man-child is so stupid as to produce a switchblade, going for John’s hand on the table. Maybe he thought the hitman’s legend was all trumped up hearsay. Maybe he thought he could beat Wick, jacked up on cocaine. Either way–he was wrong. 
John has D’Antonio laid out across the table, being choked by his own tie and his own knife at his jugular, in two seconds flat. 
One of the Italians across from you starts yelling–and produces a small gun. 
There weren’t supposed to be any guns at this parlay, but honor amongst theives, and all that. 
You do not even think, the maneuver drilled into you over and over by Mariko. You reach out, twisting the gun up and in the opposite direction of his fingers savagely, breaking one of them in the trigger guard. A shot pops off into the sky before you manage to wrench the gun from him, hitting him in the face with it. It puts the older man on his ass, back in his chair, cradling his broken hand with a bloody nose and a look of shock as he stares down the barrel of his own gun held by you, the seemingly innocent one of the group. 
Ignoring the shouted warnings from Winston and the Adjudicator, John snarls down at the idiotic young man in his iron grasp, “You seem kind of stupid, so let me put it in terms you’ll understand. You attacked me, three times now, while in the company of the woman I intend to make my wife. If you keep this up I’m going to come for you. I’m going to kill you, and everyone you love. And then, I’m going to kill everyone you’re associated with. I’ll kill their families too, because I’m done playing. I will gut your entire operation for fucking with me, because that’s who I fucking am. All I want is to be left the fuck alone and I don’t know why that is so goddamn hard for you people to understand!” 
It might be the longest speech you’ve ever heard from John, (what you can hear, through the ringing in your ears), and by the end of it he is positively vibrating with the urge to just break D’Antonio’s neck. The threat of murder hangs in the air like a volatile gas; one little spark and everything will explode.
In the interim, D’Antonio’s face has turned magenta.  
Your arms are shaking with adrenaline as you hold the gun on the Italians and wait, your attention trained on John’s slightest move out the corner of your eye. If he kills the boy–the two of you will have to run. There will be no other option left to you. The High Table will come after him again–and you doubt the two of you will survive it this time. The two of you. There is not an iota of doubt in your heart in that moment, that you will run with him wherever he goes, to the end. 
A tense silence has fallen over the table, the only sound D’Antonio’s strained gurgles as he struggles for some scrap of oxygen past his constricted windpipe. 
You are so surprised, when the Adjudicator speaks up, their tone incredibly calm and level, considering the circumstances. “The Table rules that your demands are reasonable, Mr. Wick. Dante d’Antonio will cease acting upon his vendetta. For all our sakes. If he defies this order, we will consider it a direct act of defiance not only from him, but the Camorra. Do you all understand?”
Dante’s eyes bug wide, and it’s impossible to tell if it’s with defiance, or death throes.
“John…” you say softly, not wanting to spook him into something you’ll all regret even further. “Let him go. Did you hear them? Let him go, baby, and we can go home.” You continue to speak to him, trying to talk him down. 
John is breathing heavily, with exertion–and rage. The few seconds that go by seem interminable. Time veritably stands still, in the tense showdown between you all. You count it in heartbeats, thundering in your ears. 
Somehow, eventually, your voice gets through to John. Finally, he lets the boy go, putting the switchblade away in his pocket. D’Antonio gasps for breath on the table, his hands flying to his throat. 
You pop the clip of the little Beretta, eject the bullet in the chamber, and remove the slide for good measure before setting most of the parts down on the table in a gesture of peace–you keep the clip. 
Surely you won’t get in trouble for defending yourselves?
D’Antonio struggles to situate himself back into his chair, practically falling off the edge of the table clumsily. Oxygen deprivation is a bitch.  
“No,” hisses D’Antonio through damaged vocal chords, glaring at John. One of his eyes is cherry red, a blood vessel popped in the strangulation. 
“Chiudi la bocca! Stupido ragazzo!” erupts the other Italian boss, glaring at D’Antonio and his compatriot who produced the gun in defense of the idiotic boy. “We understand. If he does not give up this childish fixation, I will kill him myself. Capisce?” 
“Excellent,” says the Adjudicator. “I will hold you accountable to that, Signor Barzini. I would like to consider this matter closed.”
They stand from their place at the head of the table, signaling that the meeting is over. Claudio, the Barzini whose hand you broke, glares at you while collecting the pieces of his firearm. “Nice trick, little girl. Give me the clip.” 
You look at Winston, who unhelpfully gives you a little shrug, playing the unaffected gentleman amidst the kerfuffle. After a long stare, you decide to comply, on your own terms. You produce the thing and remove every bullet, putting the heavy projectiles in your pocket, before handing the boss the empty clip.
“Grazie mille,” he says with a sardonic nod.  
“Prego,” you answer with a grimace. 
Alluding to his annoyance with the man daring to bring a gun to the parlay, Winston sides, “Please let the front desk know, if you require a doctor to look at your hand?” 
It seems like Claudio would like to say something more on that subject, but his comrade claps his shoulder, advising something quick in Italian. Claudio glares at you a final time, but makes to leave. 
D’Antonio is the last to stand from the table. He manages to hold his temper this time, though there is still a raging fire in his bloodshot eyes. First he looks at John, receiving no reaction but a hard, dark stare. 
Then, he turns to you, and you’ll admit it. You squirm a little in your seat. Always ready to make an ass of yourself when you’re nervous, you lift your hand in a flirty little finger wave, your engagement ring winking like a star in the sunlight. “Ciao, bella,” you say sweetly, winning yourself a nasty little smirk. 
“Fucking Americans,” he says under his breath, but he goes, and the Camorra bosses with him. Only then do you feel safe to reach for John’s hand, and he squeezes your fingers in his, just this side of too hard. 
“Can we go home now?” you ask hopefully, and you could have wept right there on the rooftop in front of Winston for the answer.
“I think so.”
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muldj0rd · 1 month ago
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/vettelbee/732597339345354752/lewis-hamilton-jenson-button-post-abu-dhabi-gp?source=share
Can we have a smut for these pics, plz? Like that fucking huge hand on his tiny waist is hunting my dreams
Pretty when you cry || Slagclaren
Summary: Jenson closed the door behind him when he entered the small room "You okay?" He asked, sitting down beside Lewis on the couch, his eyes red and slightly puffy, having obviously been crying.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Lewis asked, crossing his legs under his body.
"Because, A, you either just lost the Championship to your best friend or B, you lost your best friend to the championship. Either way, it's okay to feel bad about it, maybe even guilty," Jenson explained.
Warnings: Handjob, dacryphilia, comfort sex, mention of Spain '16, drivers room sex
Masterlist || AO3
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God, Lewis felt like a crybaby. Lewis didn't cry, especially not about something as dumb as this.
He couldn't really decide for himself if he was crying over the fact that he lost the championship to his best friend, or he lost his best friend to the championship.
If they hadn't crashed in Spain, would they still've been friends now? Would Nico still have wanted to celebrate with him later? Would he still've been over at his and Vivian's apartment for dinner once a week if Spain didn't happen?
Toto had told Jenson Lewis was in his driver's room when he asked, too absorbed in Nico's win to care who or what walked through the hospitality.
Jenson paused slightly when he heard the soft sniffle from the other side of the door "Lew? Can I come in?" He asked, knocking softly on the door.
There was a bit more sniffling and some shuffling around inside the room before Lewis spoke up, his voice muffled from the room "Sure," He choked out.
Jenson closed the door behind him when he entered the small room "You okay?" He asked, sitting down beside Lewis on the couch, his eyes red and slightly puffy, having obviously been crying.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Lewis asked, crossing his legs under his body.
"Because, A, you either just lost the Championship to your best friend or B, you lost your best friend to the championship. Either way, it's okay to feel bad about it, maybe even guilty," Jenson explained.
"I don't feel bad a bout it- certainly not guilty," Despite his words, Lewis' eyes glazed over, and it was the most attractive thing Lewis had ever seen on Lewis.
Lewis had always been attractive and always will be attractive, people who said otherwise would be lying- but seeing him with tears? It wasn't weird he got hard by that, right?
"It's just, Nico's blaming me for Spain, when we all know it was a mutual thing. He's as much at fault in it as I am," Lewis sniffled, a pathetic chuckle coming from him as he wiped away a stray tear.
"No, no. It's fine," Jenson hummed, looking into his hands on his lap so he would not get too hard from looking at how beautiful Lewis looked with the tears in his eyes.
There was a moment of silence before Jenson felt Lewis' body wrap around him. It took him a minute, but Jenson eventually turned to his side to hug Lewis back softly, his hands on his waist.
Either it was Jenson's hands that were big, or it was Lewis' waist that was small- either way, Lewis felt so small in Jenson's hands, and God, did it do things to him.
"Thank you. I needed that," Lewis pulled slightly away, but not enough to get out of Jenson's hold, nor did Lewis let go of Jenson.
"Of course. Anytime," Jenson nodded softly.
Maybe Jenson should've thought about it- Maybe he would've realised he was taking advantage of Lewis' vulnerable state, but he didn't before he kissed the younger softly.
Lewis kissed back with no hesitation, having both of his hands on the sides of Jenson's neck, trying to pull him closer.
The kiss quickly got heated, Lewis getting into Jenson's lap, a leg on either side of his body.
Jenson pulled Lewis slightly back, panting softly, "Lew-" "Shut up," Lewis cut him off, immediately going back to kissing him.
Jenson smirked slightly into the kiss, his hands squeezing Lewis's waist softly, feeling how small he felt in his embrace.
"Please," Lewis whimpered softly, grinding his hips down softly against Jenson's, making the older groan quietly.
"Here? Now?" Jenson asked confused, but damn he was aroused "The door's not locked"
"Doesn't matter. Please," Lewis pleaded again, rolling his hips again, making Jenson tilt his head back slightly.
"Okay, okay. Fine," Jenson gave in "I'm guessing you don't have lube," He said as his hands worked on getting Lewis' belt open. Lewis's breath hitched slightly, shaking his head slightly "Then you'll have to do with a handjob"
Lewis whined softly in annoyance, "Better than nothing," He breathed out shakily as Jenson pushed down his pants and boxers enough to get his dick out.
Jenson spat in his palm, wrapping his hand softly around Lewis, slowly stroking him, making Lewis moan softly. Jenson pulled Lewis back in to kiss him deeply once he was fully hard, moving his hand quicker and squeezing a little harder.
Jenson chuckled softly into the kiss when Lewis slowly started bucking his hips up into his hand, trying to get more friction, but was unsuccessful.
"Jense. Please," Lewis managed to get out between his muffled moans against Jenson's lips "More, please"
Jenson gave in, ghosting his thumb across Lewis' slit, making the younger's body shiver slightly and a shaken moan coming from his lips.
"Shh. Quiet, love," Jenson smirked softly from the physical reaction Lewis' body had at the pet name.
"Please. Close," Lewis mumbled softly the moment he was able to get air away from Jenson's lips.
"I know, love. I know," Jenson panted softly, feeling Lewis twitching in his hand, pre-cum leaking from him and down onto Jenson's hand.
A few more strokes of Jenson's hand, and Lewis' body was shaking slightly "Come for me, love- quietly," Jenson said, looking up at Lewis, who had his head thrown back, mouth open slightly in silent moans and his eyes shut tightly.
Lewis came with a second thought, his cum spilling onto his own shirt as well as Jenson's and his hand.
Jenson gradually sped down his hand to slowly help Lewis down from his high, his eyes eventually only focusing on the way his hand looked so big on Lewis' waist- focusing on how good it felt having Lewis in his hands- and not just his dick.
Lewis panted heavily as he slumped against Jenson's body, Jenson wiping his cum covered hand on the back of Lewis' shirt, knowing they have to thrown it to wash anyways.
Jenson tried to pull Lewis away from his body, but was only met with Lewis tightening his arms around his neck.
"Don't let go," He mumbled softly against Jenson's neck "I haven't helped you yet either"
"No need. You'll help me later," Jenson chuckled softly, helping Lewis properly into his pants again, afterwards placing his hands back onto Lewis' waist, stroking him softly.
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saltybean03 · 11 days ago
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adding onto never seeing illumi fight (other than phantom rouge but that hardly counts because it was a puppet) i seriously wonder wtf kinda beast he is
mind you, i dont read the manga, so feel free to fill in on what i might be missing
the puppet thing makes me think he could probably do some weird shadow clone type shit where he can just have like 10 of him in one room to fight a really troublesome opponent, assuming he says fuck it to using other people that might not be able to dole out his kind of power (idk, when he pins ppl are they just drones or do they also become ridiculously strong out of nowhere in a fight?)
he is not scared of hisoka by any means, who we HAVE seen fight (and is obvi very strong), so hes def confident enough in his ability to kill him outright if he really wanted to
also him using a puppet to go after gon (WHO WAS BLIND) AND killua struck me as a precaution, possibly of gon because i think after that tantrum he had at the hunter exam where he broke his wrist, he knew right then that there was a chance he COULD fuck him up and he didn't want to take it (in the anime he acknowledged he had potential, so i mean)
its not necessarily indicative of him being afraid of gon or his brother, because precautions are just smart thinking, but i just thought it was interesting he decided to do that when, again, he could easily beat them half to death in person (unless he was just busy and couldn't walk away from what he was doing and thats why he used a puppet LMFAO)
edit: and yes, im well aware gon is hisoka's target and that's why he didnt kill him the first time, but like i said, he isnt afraid of hisoka, so theres nothing REALLY stopping him from offing gon fr
all this mystery surrounding illumi regarding his power level and what he actually looks like beating ass, and all we got was a fake out, im so upset 😭
the whole zoldyck arc just opened more questions rather than answered any for me bruh, other than what their mom looked like (because its funny 99% of the family takes after the mom, and then there's just killua who looks like his dad)
like why is illumi so weirdly infatuated with manipulating killua so he can be an obedient t1000..........? from putting that pin in his head to force him to not fight battles he doubted he could win, and spying on him during the hunter exam, to considering killing gon because he was a 'distraction'.......
weirdo energy
and lets not forget his disdain for alluka. doesnt consider her part of the family, even said hed kill her. wtf is that about????? i read she was born under 'mysterious circumstances' and kept isolated from the other siblings, and because of that she is pretty much the 'normal' sibling despite the glaring cheat code she apparently is
for obvious reasons, i cant help but wonder if its because she's a girl in a family of boys. be my guest and explain that dynamic to me, someone, plz
and then his whole thing with hisoka. like, how did that start?
when did this mf join the phantom troupe btw? and why?? for what?? i know damn well he aint looking for no more friends outside of hisoka, so whats that leading up to??
how can one make such a lore attractive character with truly so little lore? help???
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dontbesoweirdkira · 1 year ago
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Mafia Trilogy !Yandere¡
Ranked On Insanity
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A/N: This is purely my opinion on them. We all interpret their characters differently so don’t come at me if you don’t like their placements. I’m trying to be kind of accurate to their characters but also do fan service…I’m stressed so plz 😪
Requests open: 24/7
Warnings: Yandere and toxic themes.
Masterlist
I’m ranking them in three different categories…
Delulu to not as delulu
Batshit and completely delusional
These are the men who are at the point of no return….They are willing to do anything to get you at any cost. I do not say this lightly like I mean they are willing to do anything
My boy John has the entire c.i.a. at his very disposal and you think he won’t use it to find you??? He’s going to get you. Sam will too,, He’ll send out multiple men to come hunt you down if you even dare to hide from him. They do not give a flying duck if you don’t even have romantic interest in them, you are their darling. That’s the end of discussion.
Whatever they want you to do, you’re going to do it. There’s no rationalization with these two. Lincoln and Tom give them all the talks they want but they will not listen. Pushed to the brink enough and their friends are not safe either from their delusional thinking.
You already saw what Sam did to Paulie…imagine what he’d do for his darling. Not the ideal men for normal girls. You will be tormented every single step of your relationship with either one of these men.
No effort is made to hide their sinister behaviors and your eyes will bear witness to their horrific atrocities. If you push them too far they might even harm you eventually. There is no escaping or telling what their insanity will make them do.)
Sam Trapani
John Donovan
Pretty fucking crazy but is in a weird gray area between the other two
They are in the middle. Paulie is already an irrational brute and Vito is a traumatized Soldier, so they are definitely operating weirdly.
They both have similar desires of wanting a partner but have been dealt an unlucky hand when it comes to dating so when you came along…they couldn’t let you go. Their obsession comes from a place of codependency..they need you sooo badly and they cannot go back to their old cold life without you.
They really do care about their darling, truly. They’ll do whatever they can to organically win over your love and trust. Sure they will be super touchy, maybe a little too bossy or over protective of you but they mean well… they truly want to be the “chill bf” but who are they kidding??? They are cray cray in the membrane.
At any moment they can and will snap…their delusions will get the best of them if pushed to that point. If they feel like you’re going to leave or are constantly rejecting them, they will do a full 180 and turn into the previous bunch. They are extremely accusatory and feel like you’re constantly trying to cheat or leave them. Tons of arguments and unsavory punishments.
I can’t say they’d do exactly all the same things as the previous much like they’d never physically hurt you or make you watch their crimes but they are damn near close to being like them…
Paulie Lombardo
Vito Scaletta
Average Mafia Member
These men are still very much Yandere and are willing to kill and fuck shit up for you but aren’t as delusional as the rest. Like on average people terms they are very yandere but in comparison to other members of the mob…eh.
I know this is going to piss hella people off but I can’t imagine any of these three holding you against your will or being overly passionate about their darling.
Your safety comes first and they are more go with the flow kind of men. Especially Lincoln and Tommy, despite their desires, your wishes come first. Joe is just Joe, he cares a lot about you but on average he’s like fuck it…it’s your life girl-. Forced intimacy and everything isn’t their thing.
If you really weren’t romantically feeling them they’d just become platonic yanderes and make sure you’re safe from a distance. If any moment you changed your mind they’d be right there waiting to give you the world but if not they really won’t do too much about it. These men would have to have been romantically invested in you for years for them to snap and become like the rest .)
Tommy Angelo
Lincoln Clay
Joe Barbaro
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