day 3 of pitching the idea of a mafia boss Sebastian to you
I hear your cries anon and I tuck you into bed with a warm glass of milk and two cookies.
a gun slung around his waist and a cup of scotch on the rocks in hand. a cigerette hanging from his lips as he discusses business that people shouldn't be listening to, that people shouldn't be hearing about.
the differences between human and post experimental sebastian are pretty large, a double life sorta situation, flipping through files under the guise they're simply engineering homework he's taking home with him — faces of those who work under him and numbers to send orders to. low quality camera footage of those to be wiped out.
lounging himself on chairs of red velvet leather with cushions more valuable then he'd ever deemed anybodies life. calling off orders to eradicate those who wronged him after getting arrested for the first time. power maintained through it all, he made a big name for himself after all.
switching up to when it becomes enough, making a simple call to watch the place burn to the ground. how simple life would be.
I need people to acknowledge that Italians face racism. It might not be as bad as other cultural and ethnic minorities, but it still exists.
Italian accents are relentlessly mocked. Like, seriously, I've heard people mocking Italian accents more (much more!) than I've heard actual Italian accents. It's everywhere. On TV, at school, in the movies, with friends. Italian accents are used for laughs, and no one sees a fucking problem with it!
People mock our culture too. Boil it down to food, "cool gangster" aesthetics, and going on and on about the importance of family, and then laugh at it. We're more than that! The Italian culture around family is complicated and layered and REAL. What you are mocking is REAL people's REAL relationships and experiences. Your joke is someone's life. Don't forget it.
On that note, people treat the mafia like a goddamn joke, as if they haven't killed tons of innocent people. They're not your fun little game, they're not the sympathetic heroes of your story, they're abusive and violent criminals.
Just one generation ago, my dad was bullied for being Italian and called slurs. A lot of people don't even remember there are racial slurs for Italians. We are called slurs! If that's not proof of racism, I don't know what is.
ok so i've been trying to come up with a mafia trope for this ask by the bestie @bimbofawn: now this isn't a full-blown mob fic, but it has a few elements
The Camerons have all the wealth, influence and success anyone can dream of. They come from a long lineage of fame and riches, now running the parent company of many subsidiaries with power all across the country. It's no surprise they're involved in a few shady businesses, yet it's all kept tightly under wraps.
As the heir to a vast dynasty, Rafe grew up under a lot of pressure to be the best in what he does, and his ego is proof of that. He's in the tabloids, the ivy league graduate by day and the wild bachelor by night, landing himself in more scandals than ass-kissing articles.
The Camerons are known for their prestige and (heavily manufactured) picture-perfect image. So Rafe's sleazy, immature behaviour just won't do. Although he's doing good with the shady side of the family business (bc ofc he's into violence and drug trafficking/manufacturing), he needs to do better with the public side. To give his son a motive for cleaning up his act, he gives him an ultimatum: lose it all and get disowned or settle down.
Now, he has a few months to find someone, but his ego won't let him settle for just anyone. The headlines aren't any comfort either: Pleasure Over Business: Is Rafe Cameron responsible for the fall of the Cameron dynasty?
This is very off-to-the-races coded: you drift into his sector on his friend's arm one night. He shrugs you off, expecting there to be a different girl the next time they go to the clubs (because there always is) but nope, you show up again and again.
It’s hard for him to ignore someone so kindhearted and naturally alluring. He can’t look away from you sipping on the straw, your calm gaze locked on his, making him stumble over his words like a teenager with a crush. He dreams of you every time he falls asleep, your pretty face burned on the inside of his eyelids as if you belonged there.
But one night his friend shows up with a different girl.
"Her rates got too high, and my folks were getting suspicious so I had to let her go, unfortunately." He exhales, his arm around the other woman kissing up his neck.
Now, did he predict you were an escort? Not at all. It catches him off guard and he almost spits up his drink. "You paid her to date you?"
Topper glares, "you don't have to say it like that. We did more than just make appearances together if that's what you're asking. All consensual, of course, but you do have to pay extra for private um... sessions."
me senses... a sugar-baby proposition: "I'll take care of everything, all expenses, your rent, and an allowance on top of that. Anything you want you can have."
You're still apprehensive, you've taken clients who've heard of you from word of mouth before, but this was new. They were best friends who routinely saw each other, you'd hate to stir the pot. "Won't it be weird?"
"You with Top was just business and so is what I'm offering." Perhaps that was a little white lie, but you didn't need to know that. "No harm, no foul. In my hands, you could live better than this."
"I like my home." You mutter, hugging a pillow to your chest, it was one of the many mismatched cushions that littered your old couch. "I worked hard to get it this way."
He nudges the wobbly table by the door, the picture frames rattling on the surface. "For thousands of dollars a night, I would've expected some sense of luxury, or a stove with actual knobs." He says and quirks a brow, "where'd all that money go?"
"Oh... I had to give my boss his cut."
"How much is that?"
"80 percent." You admit, ducking away when Rafe frowns, "I know, I know... It wasn't my fault, my daddy—" Your voice cracks, "My daddy got involved with a bad man after he gambled away all our savings and my college fund. And he still couldn't stop after my mama left. I had to—I had to help somehow."
You still remember returning from campus to see him bruised and battered on the living room floor, crying for your mother who was halfway across the world, now a happily divorced woman. The memory brings tears to your eyes and they stream down your cheeks.
Rafe bites his tongue, rethinking his decision to show up here in the first place. Your unlucky life only made you more perfect, and as terrible as it sounded, he knows he won't find anyone more fitting for his circumstances.
He refused to leave until you agreed.
"What's his name?"
You don't hear him over your sniffles and rub your nose into your pillow, "huh?"
He crouches by your feet, placing a hand on your thigh. "What's the big bad man's name, sweetie?"
"Why—Why are you asking..."
The blue in his eyes seems darker, but it could just be the dim lightbulbs you haven’t changed yet. He blinks up at you with thick lashes, a slow smile crawling onto his face.
"I'm going to prove to you that when you're with me, you've got nothing to worry about."
And the next night, he shows up at your door with a fresh bouquet of flowers and bruised knuckles. You don’t get one word out before drops a heavy duffel bag on the floor, “here’s the money you deserve for your work, and extra for your troubles.”
You glance at the bag and then his face, your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. “What—What did you do?”
He smiles, cocking his head to the side. “Nothing you have to worry about, sweetheart.” He says, wiping toothpaste from the corner of your lip. “Now, are you going to invite me in?”
Rafe is very possessive, he doesn’t care that you dated/slept with his friend because you belong to him now. He buys you a gold necklace with his initial on it, parades you around the city for all the nosy paps to see, and brings you home to meet his family. And yes, you do get the gold seal of approval from his father.
well this is just a mash-up of different tropes 🫡 fake relationship, sugar daddy and mob, with rafe's signature "you're mine" mindset. me has a few slutty and soft ideas for this au too hehe
(still haven’t finished andor season 1) god so in returning to the things that were happening in andor season 1 and the things happening in the actual 1970’s…. The fact that major organized crime groups went crazy during this part of the Cold War (and still are! In different ways) in ways distinctly tied to right wing politics and global paranoia is actually something Star Wars canonically has touched on without actually unpacking - that’s the actual canon plot with Jabba the Hutt!
But the space-mafia is like, heavily implied with davos skuldoon in season 1, given that he magically seems to know ways to launder money without being caught and also is someone mon fucking mothma is worried about getting involved with, and I’m interested in the brutal realities of the fact she not only married her daughter off to a man from the kind of society that in real life has committed femicide, but also…. How good is that money, mon? How reliable? What is he doing to the citizens of chandrila - or other planets- to make it? What will he expect from you and the rebellion in order to channel that money? What will be the fucking cost?
The rebels getting forced into supporting the career and interests of a space-mafioso to keep the new stream of money flowing is brutal in a way the show should have dug into if they wanted to justify mon marrying leida off - it must have been an income stream they could receive in no other way - at the same time it makes everyone complicit if not an active collaborator in a type of organization that is very much imperial on the smaller scale to the people who live under it - that forces them to pay money to stay alive and keep their businesses, that exerts a constant threat of violence, that imprisons through trafficking. If everyone has their own rebellion, everyone also has their own empire. What’s the cost of expanding a local empire to defeat the empire hurting everyone?
i 1000% believe he hasn’t been caught because partagaz owes him money from a failing gambling addiction
Seiko Kimura was the daughter and heiress of a Yakuza that was well known in Japan. The Ultimate Yakuza. She was a tough girl, someone no one should mess with. Their symbol was butterfly in a web.
After being homeschooling as a child and being scouted in middle school, she found herself in Hope's Peak. Most students would clear away from her. Despite her frame, dhe could easily take someone out. Like a reserve student did.
The boy had touched her butt, smirking to see how she would react. Without hesitation, Seiko turned around with a dark glare at her eyes. Her hair tendrils wavered, showing her anger. She slapped the boy, then grabbed him roughly to kick his stomach. The boy groaned in pain. She was strong.
The girl lowered her gaze at the reserve student. "You're lucky I haven't contacted my family for that action. The next time you try pulling shit on me, you'll wish I kicked your ass again. Got it?" She spat at him, walking away, leaving the perverted boy groaning in pain.
Seiko was heading to her class, rubbing her temples. "Ugh... perverts... he should be thankful I didn't murder him. If I could kill him, I would." She soon entered and went to find her desk.
Could I please get Alfred Pennyworth, Mafia, and "Close your eyes for me." 👀
Thank you, Tara!! 💕
I tried to write some action in this one!
100 follower celebration
Alfred Pennyworth x Reader
Alfred Pennyworth + Mafia/Gang + "Close your eyes for me."
TW: Violence, guns, mention of blood and drug trafficking
A door is kicked in and figures clad in black storm the house. Panic ensues and everyone flees for cover or fights back as shots are fired, a few flying right by your head. Furniture gets overturned, the wood interior of the house splinters as bullets rip through it.
There's one man larger than the rest who pummels the other men defending the house into submission. The other ones, though smaller, make up for their size with skills. You watch from behind a sofa as they weave and dodge punches from the men you're working for.
You weren't even supposed to be here; your friend just begged for you to fill in for them at this job. All they told you was you had to be here with no questions asked and then they would pay you. Your friend had something come up and sounded scared that they couldn't be here. Upon arriving at the house, you found out that their job was helping traffick for Johnathan Crane, Lo Spaventatore, The Scarecrow. and now you were caight in the middle of a fight between his men and that of the one they all feared, L'uomo del Pipistrello, The Batman.
You shriek and our hands fly up to cover your mouth as a man drops unconscious in front of you. Judging from the blood on his face, you're not sure he'll get up any time soon.
"Oi," a voice says from beside you.
An older man with salt and pepper hair holds his hand out to you. He's not dressed in the dark suits like his comrades, he's wearing a waistcoat with a pressed white shirt. The sleeves are rolled up and in his black gloved hands he wields a pistol unlike his partners who choose to use their fists.
"Don't worry, it's not for you, love," he says in an English accent as you take his hand. "What are you doing here?"
"I, uh, I just came to fill in for a friend!" you try to explain. "I'm not with these guys, I swear! I promise, I just needed some money and my friend said-"
"Calm down," he says. "What's your name?"
You tell him and he smiles. "I'm Alfred," he says.
He gives a comforting smile that contrasts the danger taking place all around the two of you. He's so calm and collected. "Let's get you out of here, then," he says.
You scream as shots fire again, bullets flying right beside you. Alfred shields you and fires back at Scarecrow's men. One of his shots goes right through the man leaving him a bloodied mess. Alfred notes your horrified expression and puts an arm around you.
"Close your eyes for me," he says. "I'm going to get you out of here."
Sometimes I think a lot about a mafia/mob AU. Sid's got a lot of money, a type of power, and the idea of him using Johnny as a way to make a deal with some LaRusso crime family and maybe Daniel is the one who went to make the deal and says something like he'll take the blonde if they want a deal and Johnny's actually more than happy to escape Sid and the mansion, he just doesn't realize what he's agreed to. But being pretty arm candy for a mob boss ends up being a lot nicer once he gets used to it.
Or also maybe Johnny is just an unwitting civilian, maybe visiting Newark because he got lost on a trip to New York and catching the eye of Daniel, maybe getting into a fight but you know karate doesn't always seem like a great idea when there's a knife or a gun and our favorite California boy is definitely not in LA anymore. And Daniel doesn't seem dangerous, he's just a little punk, but then he realizes all the danger that can be hidden in an unassuming guy but that it's absolutely thrilling and maybe doesn't want to go back to LA.
Sid was 100% involved in a lot of sketchy business and wouldn’t hesitate to sell his pretty stepson for even just a dollar, so being able to get a good deal and get rid of Johnny? He’d have been crazy to pass that up. Johnny is happy to finally be away from his abusive stepfather, but he was terrified at the time when he realized Sid was giving him away to some (cute) stranger, a dangerous one at that, but he soon realized that Daniel meant no harm to him. He’s nice to Johnny; buys him presents and keeps him fed, even lets him walk around the city alone as long as he brings the knife Daniel bought him (it has "Johnny" written on the blade in pretty, cursive letters.) Daniel takes care of him like no one else has; Daniel looks at him like no one else has, like he’s beautiful and prized; of course, he finds himself in the mobster's bed and getting fucked stupid by him. which, of course, leads to Daniel buying an engagement ring (Johnny says yes just about a million times.)
Ooo and that second scenario. Johnny wasn’t at all threatened when Daniel approached him; he’s just some short, handsome guy, right? Wrong. Two men were standing behind Daniel while he flirted with Johnny under the guise of helping him figure out how to get where he needs to go, pressing up against Johnny’s side, almost against his back, and pointing at places on the map where he can find a phone or transport, rasping right in Johnny’s ear that he thinks Johnny is really pretty and that he could come have some fun with Daniel instead if he wanted, and sublty pushing his (big, really big, from what Johnny can feel) bulge against his hip, an abundantly clear message. Johnny pushed Daniel away roughly, assuming that Daniel was just making fun of him, and was briefly panicked when one of the men hovering around Daniel gave a warning peek of the gun on his hip to him, but thankfully, Daniel motioned for the men to walk away and was obeyed without question.
“Sorry, sweetheart, that wasn’t very gentlemanly of me—my mother would kill me.”
Johnny hates (loves*) this guy’s dumb, hot accent and his stupid, cute face. What the hell could someone that looks so innocent be doing to need some dude with a gun to protect him?
“What wasn’t? Getting your bodyguard to flash a gun at me?”
Daniel laughs. "I didn't order him to do that, and I'm really sorry for that too, but I meant I'm sorry for being so crass with you." He grins, handing Johnny a paper with his number on it. "I should take you on a proper date first."
