there's something to be said about returning after being gone for so long. i think the quiet perseverance has to be honored, or at least acknowledged, in some way. because, despite it all, you keep coming back.
in this series, floyd is back for revenge but can he handle the heat when you, nicky and chris combine forces to take him down for good?
a/n: below you’ll find all things related to my 'vendetta’ series for our dear mafioso husband. you can also find these things, and other content like answered asks, under #nicky valentino vendetta
status: ongoing
last updated: 10.12.23.
soundtrack
chapters
1- it’s you
2- the heart’s cry
3 - ain’t shit sweet
4, part 1 - together again & part 2
5 - lover of mine
6 - untitled
7 - all black like a funeral
8 - anything
9 - at your service
10, part 1 - elephants, part 2 - the show must go on!
11 - breaking news
12, part 1 - cloudy days, part 2 - the storm
moodboards
vendetta
lover of mine
all black like a funeral
taylor (chris’s love interest)
taylor’s home
the grand finale
random stuff i think about
nicky missing you
valuable vase destroyed during fight
facts about the kitchen
stella
nicky’s favorite room
nicky as a dad
mc finds nicky’s secret stash of cigarettes
nicky when he stopped smoking
everyone during nicky and mc’s game of “find the cannoli”
nicky and chris prepping mc to fight
miscellaneous
handwritten version of chapter 6 (intro)
bonus features for chapter 7
mc and nicky argue (after chapter 7)
uquiz
chris and taylor’s offical first date
from others, with love
nicky in chapter 7 @anonymous-eggy
their oc (connor) in chapter 7 @anonymous-eggy
taylor @anonymous-eggy
taylor @myverystupid
“not alone” @anonymous-eggy
p.s.: i suggest reading this after chapter 4, part 2
the main 4 in chapter 7 @mahirublue
nicky when he quits smoking @mahirublue
thank you to everyone who’s read the chapters so far and even created content from this series 💛 you’re an absolute treasure.
Hey so I thought we as userbase should organize spontaneous blackout protest against shapes inc ads here. I thought Feb 26th would be a good date (so ppl has 72 hrs notice if they want to participate), we would log off for 24hrs to show tumblr we are not okay with that (and also for shapes to get less ad revenue for a day in a process lol). Tag would be 'anti shapes inc protest'
If you like the idea/want to participate, help spread the word by reblogging this ask. Thanks <3
I would happily comply with this, hopefully enough people participate for it to make an impact!
Also lets talk about these people would fake the behaviour, memes and language of the same people who have made these memes out of their own happiness and joy. No, I do not need ai chat bots nor my mutuals need that bullshit. We are well and satisfied interacting with each other and talking about fandom headcannons that we made with our own creativity. See how lifeless, dull, and boring it feels to see such texts. Tell me is this what you want, what you want to interact with? Please people, ai chatbots got nothing on real people, real fandoms and real weirdos and fun. We are always accepting of you and we would let you in, there are spaces for everyone in the internet.
No pressure tags to the people: @sixxels @getopied @satorusrealm @softtashoney @snorlexi @emxoxo05 @strawb3rryhachi @stellarixe @kixxtie @kthologue @trixy812 @kunareads +anyone!!
"Ugh," Kento sighed as he glanced at the flashing notifications on his phone.
"More memes?" you studied the shot of blurry trees lining the road, then chuckled as another text popped up.
Gojo: NOW you celebrate your birthday all of a sudden?!!
Kento's eyes narrowed attempting to focus on the directions from the GPS, "Exit 2—".
Gojo: We were friends first :(
He grumbled at the slew of messages overlapping the next set of instructions.
"Should I put it on do not disturb?"
"That might be best."
The camera rested in your lap while you reached over for his phone. "You told him about the trip?"
"No, he must've asked around since I'm not there and found out from someone else."
You let out a hum of acknowledgement as you set the phone back into place. The GPS revealing the exit he was looking for moments ago. Your eyes glanced at him, hands instinctively grabbing the camera to capture the moment. Except the tense jaw, pinched brow, and distant gaze seen through the lens made you freeze.
"You're doing it again."
"I'm not."
"Kento."
He said your name without looking over at you.
"I thought you wanted to do this."
The song playing throughout the car died down, "I do … I want to."
"… But?"
"But, I don't want to get into it again. Okay? I'm here. With you. That's all that matters." The finality in his tired tone washed away any lingering questions you had. The headrest supported your thoughts as you leaned back to glance out of the window. Those hazel eyes took in your tense shoulders, "You can't do that."
You cut your eyes at him, "Excuse me?"
"You can't have an attitude with me on my birthday."
Your mouth opened to rebuttal. The counterargument perfectly laid out only to disintegrate when you felt his hand in yours. The edges of your mouth turned upward. "Now you're not playing fair."
His hand tightened in yours, "I don't hear you complaining."
The hint of a smile dared to spread into a grin as you kissed the back of his hand, pressing it against your cheek. Everything had been beautifully blissful. Each minute spent with you, he found himself loosening up. Shoulders easing when you laughed or pulled him into a small shop to "look around". The knot in his chest unwinding with every bite of local food: fresh and inviting unlike the saran wrapped snacks he'd grown accustomed to when on missions. Speaking of, when was the last time he checked his phone?
"Kento?!" you called out from the patio, "You're going to miss it!"
"One moment!" he shouted before heading to the room. As he picked up the phone, his heart ticked. Disabling do not disturb felt like opening Pandora's Box. His thumbs stroked through the collection of birthday messages, emailed coupons, and missed calls. A whistle sounded outside followed by a loud pop and punctuated with a fizz "Kento!"
"Just a minute," his eyes settled on the text: Answer your phone.
The sender's name caused the knot to root in the pit of his stomach. You turned at the sound of the door opening. The rainbow from the shower of fireworks danced across your skin. "You nearly mis—" your smile faded at the sight of him. The slight glow he developed since you two arrived now replaced with that impenetrable mask of stoicism he wore so well "But you told them about this. Months in advance."
"I know." he stood in place not daring to cross the threshold.
"Why you? Why can't someone else do it?"
"Because they need a Grade One and everyone else is already on other missions."
You could only bare the sight of him for another second. Looking at him any longer meant rewriting the deluded dreams you had of any normalcy or romance. No white picket fence or house on the hill or lazy Sunday mornings or vacations for that matter. No dinners. No. None of it was for you … or him. The silence between you was louder than the symphony of whistles, pops, and booms from the chameleon colors in the sky.
Each second winding the knot within him that ached over the years from working too hard, not enough, sacrificing until he forgot who and what it was for. His throat tightened at the sight of you leaning forward. Shoulders shaking under the neon glow. Your name leaving his lips as quiet as continual repentance for a sin so long endured it's nearly numbed the tongue. He missed yours on his. He missed you.
Sitting atop a mountain couldn't compare to the coldness permeating the car.
The melody of fireworks from the summer festival faded like the end of a song, welcoming the silence you both knew all too well. Kento's mind worked harder than his jaw, which clenched and unclenched as the seconds morphed into minutes.
"I don't want this either."
"That's not the point."
"Then, what is?"
"Why don't you just quit? You could find other work. Something less stressful, less demanding."
His gaze grew distant at the familiar line. "Because I have—"
"A duty. I know."
He watched how you rubbed your temple out of his peripheral. "You deserve better than this," his mouth worked to finish the thought, but it felt dry. Perhaps his tongue was finally numb from apologizing. Making up for missed plans, falling asleep during movies, barely being present while right next to you at times, "I'm sorry I can't give that to you."
Your heart sank at the declaration. The dim road before you couldn't compare to the hole that blossoming within, "What are you saying?"
His heart leapt to his throat. Its tendrils clawing for the way out while his mind stomped it back down where it belonged. He'd fought curses for a living. Some days without breaking a sweat. But, sitting here with you — someone he spent years with crafting what he grew to cherish — saying the next words felt like the hardest thing he's ever had to do.
"We should end things."
Those four words were a knife in the chest. It twisted then turned before yanking your heart out. "What?" You squeaked.
"We shoul—"
"I— I heard what you said," your eyes took in his taut jaw and the pink crawling from his neck to his ears. The memories surged like a flood: your fingers threading his hair, your head resting on his chest, or when he'd rest his head in your lap after a tiring day. How he'd sigh and deflate before you, only to turn his face and murmur "I missed you."
You were too busy drowning in memories to realize your breath quickened. The sound of him saying your name didn't pull you from the wave. The car slowed to a stop as he pulled over. His hands reached for you, but clutched empty space when you stepped out of the car.
The air was thick and humid, yet you breathed it in with each gasp. "How— why," your hands alternated from wiping your eyes to hugging your sides. "I— I don't understand."
Kento's chest tightened at the sight of you. Eyes blinking quickly between tears, arms crossed so tightly he could see the creases in your clothes. He walked around the car, saying your name once more. For perhaps the final time. Those hands you'd grown to love, the ones that kept monsters at bay, learned the secrets of your body, and caressed your skin. They were the same ones you now shrank back from. He tilted his head then dropped his hands to his side, looking out at the road.
"You don't get to break up with me, then try to comfort me."
Despite the tears in his eyes, none fell as he worked to maintain his resolve. That was one of the things you loved about him. His ability to remain calm amidst the chaos. Except this wasn't a moment where the sink was clogged or your car broke down. This was a fork in the road. When you wanted to go left, he stood opposite of you at the right. Rather than pouring over a map together, he stood ready to go separate ways. Your eyes held locked with his. The ones that were holding tears back instead of letting them fall, "Stop doing that."
He lifted a hand to the air. "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to fight for us!"
"This is me fighting by protecting you."
"I don't want your protection, I want you. I don't want anyone else."
"I can't give you what you want."
"Yes, you can. You just don't want to."
He stood up straight at the declaration. "You have no idea how much I want this."
The hum of a car passing by filled the space where you should've responded. "Kento," your voice cracked, then went quiet at the sight of him shaking his head.
"I'm sorry," he approached you slowly "I know that's not enough."
His figure became a blur as he reached out for you again. The firmness of his chest against your fists only brought on more tears. The dam broke when he wrapped his arms around your sobbing frame and held you close one last time.
Author's Note: Tumblr was really fighting me when I tried to post this, but I won, teehee. Even though I wanted to keep writing, the ending felt bittersweet and perfect as is. I like to think he drives you home himself after a few minutes of standing by the road holding you close as you ruin his shirt. He'd help you get your bags inside. He has so much within him he wants to say, but he can only muster "Take care of yourself." and he hates himself for it. He sounds like an ass and he feels like one. He wants you to hate him for it, because he'd rather live with that than not giving you what you're worth... who's cutting onions?!
Comment if you want to be tagged in part 2. If you can handle any more angst. Blanket and tea for making it to the end 🍵💓
ICE abducted 10-year-old Karla Tiul Baltazar from Spokane and sent her to the same detention center as 5-year-old Liam Conejo Ramos. If you are able, please consider donating to support Karla's family.
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