#LOOK AT MY LITTLE BAMBINO

[hayatoseyepatch]

All the Hoshina art from today’s manga update.

[ladyelainehilfur]

now WHY did I tear up updating Stephen's TV Tropes page 🤨

[iniquitousyearning]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Seven-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: EEEEEEE ANGST!!!!! LOVE!!!! CONFESSIONS!!!! PROGRESS!!!!! Also, mentions of childhood trauma, childhood emotional abuse, parental abuse, mentions of death, extremely deep and emotional. Very painful. Also, some adorable Theo in the beginning.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Just as Mattheo was on the verge of popping open the door to the washroom, he halted, pivoting back to face you, locking eyes in an intense moment.

"I'll go out first," he declared, his gaze dancing from your eyes to your lips and back, a fleeting yet charged exchange. "If Nott is still there, I'll distract him. Meet me in the courtyard."

Before you could formulate a response, he swiftly flicked the lock open and swung the door wide, leaving the room with purpose. Internally cursing him in a cascade of languages, you realized the gaping flaw in his plan--it was you who had called out to Theo from inside the washroom, not him...so surely, Mattheo's departure from the bathroom before you would hardly appear inconspicuous to Theo, should he still be lingering outside the fucking door.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

Releasing a prolonged breath laden with anxiety, you pivoted back toward the mirror, meticulously assessing your appearance. Adjusting your mask, you coaxed your hair into place, smoothing down any unruly strands. Just as you were finally beginning to feel the tension ease off of your shoulders, the bathroom door groaned open once more--revealing a tall, brown-haired figure, elegantly clad in a sharp blue suit.

Your heart stuttered, and you spun around, breath catching in your throat. "Theo..."

Theo entered the bathroom, a cheeky smirk adorning his lips as he leisurely assessed you from head to toe, allowing the door to click shut behind him.

"Looks like I've finally figured you out," he declared, his voice a low, honeyed drawl. "Although it seems I'm a tad too late."

Closing the distance, you anxiously tried to apologize. "Theo, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be, Bella," he interrupted, wetting his lips, softly raising a hand to his heart. "Your secret is safe with me."

"My...why? In exchange for what?" Your words hung in the air, lost as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

A low chuckle escaped him, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Why would you think I want something?"

Tension gripped you. "I just-"

"I already told you," he interrupted, his hand ascending toward your face, delicately brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm a gentleman, little bird...you owe me nothing...all I ever wanted was confirmation."

Your brows furrowed, his touch sending subtle tingles over your cheek as his thumb grazed against it. A delicate shiver traced its way down your spine, and the room seemed to close in as his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that held the weight of unspoken revelations.

"Confirmation?" you questioned.

"Mm," he murmured, his eyes briefly scanning your features, and then he slowly withdrew his hand, leaving an almost lingering warmth on your skin. "Confirmation that Riddle's got it bad for you...as bad as I've ever seen it."

Your heartbeat quickened, a mix of confusion and denial clouding your thoughts. "No-"

"Yes," he retorted, a hint of amusement in his eyes at your quick dismissal. "We all could tell there was something going on with you two, little bird...we could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at you...come se tu fossi il sole e lui fosse un bambino che lo vede per la prima volta..."

(As if you were the sun, and he was a child seeing it for the first time...)

"And you...you looked at him just the same..." he added, his voice a low, encapsulated murmur, "since you've come around, it's been obvious, even to us heartless jerks, that he's different...it's clear that whatever this is, whatever you two have been hiding...È il tipo di cosa per cui aspetti per tutta la tua dannata vita..."

(it's the type of thing you wait your whole damn life for.)

Your words caught in your throat, a mixture of shock and disbelief washing over you. Stammering, you struggled to find a coherent response as warmth and bliss swirled in your chest, something deeply suppressed coming to life inside you at his revelation.

You looked up into his deep blue eyes, speechless for a moment before managing to utter, "thank you, Theo...thank you so much..."

"Of course, amore..." he said, his hands casually finding refuge in his pockets. "I understand precisely what he sees in you...I can only envision the fiery clashes of tongues you two must have..."

Smirking, you remarked, "You have no idea."

Theo chuckled, the mischievous glint growing in his eyes. As you made your way to the door, an impulsive idea took hold. Without hesitation, you spun back around, meeting his eyes as you reached for his face, drawing it down towards you, and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. With a smirk, you pulled back, leaving him momentarily taken aback.

"Your secret is safe with me too, Theodore..." you murmured, a sly grin playing on your lips. "Wouldn't want anyone to know that the Italian playboy has a heart, now would we?"

"You're absolutely right, Piccolo diavolo..." he quipped with a smirk, his eyes glinting playfully. "Now get out of here before Riddle comes to claim my bloody head."

Suppressing a snorted giggle, you confidently swung the washroom door open and gracefully glided back into the dimly lit hall. Swiftly traversing the corridor, you aimed straight for the courtyard, a subtle cringe registering as the rhythmic patter of rain on cobblestones reached your ears. As you approached the courtyard's entrance, there stood Mattheo, casually leaning against the wall, patiently awaiting your arrival.

Or rather, impatiently. "What took you so long?"

"I, uh, got caught up..." you stammered, wincing inwardly as your throat tightened. It didn't seem like the right moment to mention Theo, who had obviously somehow snuck past him. "I'm sorry."

"What am I ever going to do with you," Mattheo sighed, hint of amusement his voice as he turned toward the forest. "Come on,"

Mattheo guided you through the courtyard, the rhythmic cadence of raindrops creating a melodic backdrop to the night. The atmosphere crackled with an unspoken tension, and the moon and stars, obscured by thick clouds, added an eerie allure to an already anxious situation. Your dress, now entirely drenched, clung to your form, and navigating the wet ground in heels became an adventurous feat on its bloody own.

Frustration mounted as you navigated the slippery pathway in your soaked dress and precarious heels. An unfortunate misstep led to a stumble, and you found yourself cursing both the uneven ground and your choice of footwear.

Mattheo's irritation mirrored your own, evident in the sharp tone of his voice. "Watch where you're going, Raven..." he said, barely sparing you a glance as he continued moving. "Do I need to bloody carry you?"

You rolled your eyes, mumbling a response under your breath as you struggled to keep up with him, aggravated further by the relentless rain and Mattheo's brisk pace. The forest swallowed you both as you entered into it, its dark shadows and dense foliage intensifying the unease in the air.

"Can you please slow down?" You hissed, your voice rising over the sound of the clashing raindrops, hastily stepping over splayed branches and sharp rocks. "Is this all really fucking necessary?"

Mattheo stalled, the black fabric of his suit clinging to his strong frame, outlining the tensed contours of his body. As he paused and turned to look at you, his eyes reflected the profound darkness of the forest, deep pools of intensity that seemed to absorb the ambient light. The raindrops glistened on his chiseled features, and his once meticulously styled curls now lay flattened against his forehead, drenched by the relentless rain.

His intense gaze pierced through the darkness, capturing your soul as you staggered closer to him. The thick canopy of the trees cast shadows, with only the moon's pale glow filtering through the dense forest greenery.

"I'm giving you what you wanted," he declared, the weight of his words echoing in the eerie stillness. The moonlight outlined the contours of his soaked, dark suit, emphasizing the true irrationality of the moment, and you snuffed a scoff. "We're almost there-"

"This isn't what I wanted, Mattheo...I just wanted you to talk to me!" you snapped, frustration boiling over and echoing in the quiet forest. Your words hung in the damp air, mingling with the sound of raindrops and the distant rustle of leaves. "I'm sick of all the fucking theatrics...Gods, I'm soaked, I'm freezing, my dress is ruined, and we could get attacked by an endless array of creatures at any bloody moment....yet, you don't fucking care...you won't even slow down for me..."

Mattheo blinked, his emotions entirely indecipherable, his stern expression momentarily softening as he studied your figure. Seemingly dismissing your words, his eyes then shifted to the darkness behind him.

"I have a time frame...we need to move," he urged, but a scowl marred your face.

"Mattheo..." you pleaded, desperation laced in your voice, grabbing his arm and making him spin back around to fave you. "For Godric's sake! Please!"

Mattheo's eyes bore into you, the irritation etched on his features creating a tension that echoed through the darkened forest.

"What, Raven? What the hell do you honestly want from me?" His voice was a hiss, teeth bared, face contorted in a snarl. "You want me to tell you all my dirty little secrets, is that it? You want to know the dark corners of my past? What if I lay it all bare, and you decide I'm not the man you thought I was, huh? What then?"

You swallowed, dispelling the lump of anxiety lodged in your throat. Glimpsing the hardened features of the man before you, you mustered the courage to reach up and pull his mask off, before doing the same to yours, tossing them onto the forest floor.

"You're worried I'm going to leave," your thumb grazed his cheek as you questioned, "...is that what you're worried about, Mattheo?"

His gaze underwent a subtle transformation, softening amid a tempest of conflicting emotions. An audible swallow punctuated the charged atmosphere, the rain forming a delicate veil between you, its mist blending with the subdued downpour beneath the thick canopy of trees. Without a word, he nodded, his silent admission making your blood buzz with electricity.

"I'm not going anywhere," your whisper hung in the damp air, the fragility of your voice carrying a delicate plea. "I prom-"

He scowled, stalling your words as he shoved your hand away and attempted to step back, but you were quicker, seizing his arm and halting his retreat.

"Listen to me, Riddle...Gods, I'm not going anywhere, okay? I couldn't, even if I wanted to..." the intensity of your gaze bore into him, the misty rain creating an ethereal backdrop to the raw exchange between you.

"Yes, you could," he muttered, his voice torn. "And you will want to."

"I know your heart is at war with your head, Mattheo...but I'm here...I'm right fucking here...there's no leaving, there's no forgetting you..." you released a shaky breath, observing the subtle shift in his gaze toward your lips, his breathing gradually slowing, and you pulled him closer. "It’d be easier if you asked me to tear my heart out of my chest with my own fucking hands, then it would be to even make an attempt at forgetting you…"

"You're insane," he muttered, smirk teasing the corners of his lips, a mixture of disbelief and vulnerability in his eyes. "No wonder I can't get enough of you..."

You huffed, involuntarily blushing in response. Theo's words echoed in your mind, a persistent refrain like a neon sign blinking in the darkness. Type of thing you wait your whole fucking life for, he'd said.

As his sentiment lingered, the words dancing around you like a ghost, you felt a warmth enveloping your body despite the shivers running down your spine. The chill in the air became irrelevant, overpowered by the undeniable heat radiating from within. Gazing into those enchanting brown eyes, the ones you've let yourself drown in over and over and over again for months now, you grappled with the realization that what you felt for this boy transcended the superficial.

You didn't want him, you needed him. You didn't like him, you fucking loved him. And that meant for better, or for worse.

And as you stood there, struggling to contain the overwhelming emotion, you could hardly resist the urge to confess. Until, he raised his hand, gently pulling you closer, holding you tight against his chest. It felt like a silent prayer, an unspoken gesture for which no words could suffice.

"My childhood was similar to yours, Raven," he admitted, his words laced with a mix of reluctance and vulnerability. "Rich asshole parents, never around...dad was too busy fucking his assistant, and mom was too preoccupied spending his money to care...they pawned me and my brother off to my grandparents for most of our childhood."

Mattheo's grip tightened around you, his embrace offering both solace and a sense of protection as he paused for a moment, letting his words linger in the night air. You tensed, mentally bracing yourself.

"Which would have been fine, but my grandparents had their own issues," he continued, his voice carrying the weight of years gone by. "They split up when we were five...my brother went with my grandma while I stayed with grandpa...everyone blamed him, everyone fucking hated him, cut him out. My dad treated him like a piece of filth, as though he'd singlehandedly murdered his best friend or some shit...I was the only one he had left..."

As his words unfolded, you could feel the resonance of his pain, the narrative of abandonment and familial strife painting a somber picture in the midst of the rain-soaked forest--and at that, you could relate.

"I was all he had, and I was a fucking asshole...I treated him like shit because I felt like shit," he almost growled, his voice carrying the burden of remorse, tone becoming more strained with each syllable. "My brother was given everything--adored, loved, and cherished while I wasn't even looked at, fucking thought about. Wasn't my grandpas fault, but I took it out on him...I told him I fucking hated him, that he ruined my life. I just did whatever I wanted and he let me, because what else was he going to do?...this went on for years, until we got into a huge fight one night, and he called my dad...I left the house before he got there...just stormed out without another word..."

Mattheo's grip tightened further, his chin digging into the top of your head as he continued, the pain in his voice echoing louder than ever. "The next call I got was from my dad...telling me grandpa's at the hospital," he admitted, a heavy weight in his words, your heart beating in your throat, his echoing in your ears. "He went to chase after me and some fucking goons jumped him, in the middle of the street, while I was too busy being a fucking selfish, pathetic little bitch..."

The rawness of his story unfolded in the damp air, adding layers of complexity to the connection between you, the rain serving as a silent witness to the cathartic release of his past. Your chest rung with pain, lids fluttering shut as your lungs reached for air, gripped by the depth of the agony in his tone. Mattheo's voice trembled as he continued, the raw pain seeping into the damp air.

"It was my fault...all of it, my fucking fault...and my dad made sure to hammer that into me...every single fucking day since," he spat the words through gritted teeth, hastily letting go of you, shifting his hands to your shoulders as he met your eyes. "I reached the hospital just before he took his last breath...and you know what he fucking said to me?"

You gasped, taken aback by the overwhelming surge of emotions within him. "N-no,"

"He told me to forgive him, " he seethed, his teeth barred, tears threatening to spill from his intense gaze. "He told me to fucking forgive my dad, that insufferable prick who never spared him a fucking minute, never spared me a minute...that heartless bastard...how the fuck could he tell me to forgive someone like that? How the fuck could those be his last fucking words?"

Your breath hitched, a sharp intake of air as his words etched themselves into the recesses of your mind. The pain and raw emotion swirled around you effortlessly, an inescapable tide. “Rebelling was my coping mechanism, yet it was fleeting. Nothing I did was enough, always slipping through my fingers like fucking sand…”

His grip on your arms tightened, fingers digging in with a brutal force that threatened to splinter bones, jolting you within the clutches of his anguish.

"…I just-fuck--tell me where to put the fucking anger," he growled, the desperation in his voice palpable, echoing the tumultuous storm within him. "Fucking tell me, Raven...fuck...where the fuck-"

"Hey--breathe, just breathe," you whispered, meeting his gaze with understanding, bringing your hands up to his face, pulling him close. "It wasn't your fault...you were just a boy...a boy who needed his family...needed someone to tell him he was loved...they turned you into a fucking weapon and then told you to find peace..."

"And you were right..." he sniffed, his hands shaking as he held you; his eyes actively searching yours as if seeking solace. "...I let it all consume me...possess me," he murmured, voice heavy with regret. "I became the weapon they wanted, the one they made me out to be, because anger was better than wallowing...better than grief...better than guilt..."

Your hands trembled against his damp skin, the collective heat from your bodies hot enough to ignite the whole forest into pure fucking flame. You glimpsed his lips, and he wet them, little rivers of rain running down his skin, your hearts pounding in rhythm.

"At least rage would lift me up...make me stand..." he whispered, blinking the liquid away from his eyes, and whether it was rain or tears, you weren’t entirely sure. "Make me walk..."

"I understand..." you chewed your cheek, breath shallow as you nodded. "I completely understand."

"I've done shitty things...more than I could even begin to tell you about...all because I couldn't deal with my own bullshit, but, now...it just feels different...I feel different..." he confessed in a hushed tone, the weight of his words palpable. "Where I once craved vengeance, I now crave rest."

"Yeah?" You blinked, searching his face, thumbs softly brushing over his cheeks. "Why is that?"

"Because of you," he said, glimpsing your lips, his eyes clouded with emotion. "You gave me peace in a lifetime of war."

Your breath froze, time suspended as if under a spell, the world around you caught in a momentary stillness. Your grip on his face tightened, as though afraid he might slip away, the rain dancing around both of you in a silent cascade. And as the two of you stood there, his face, held in your hands, revealed a complexity of emotion that entirely mirrored your own--a beautiful mess, a captivating ruin.

As raindrops continued to create a soft percussion around you, you found yourself lost in the depths of his brown eyes, unsure if you were even inhaling anymore. But one thing you did know, was that this was the boy you loved, an intricate blend of imperfections, a chaotic disaster just like yourself.

In this instance, he embodied everything you've ever yearned for without even realizing it--a mix of nobility and ruthlessness, courage entwined with vulnerability, a paradoxical blend of strength and weakness. He is the type of man that you'd choose to stand beside in a war, never wishing to stand against. He's been unapologetically badass, yet somehow still possesses a heart that resonated with honesty. He was the embodiment of your dreams, realized in the midst of pure, complete chaos, and you wouldn't want to change a goddamn thing.

And just as you were parting your lips, just as you wanted to let the sacred words fall from your tongue, Mattheo's head snapped up--and then you heard it too, the breaking of branches shattered the moment, an ominous sound of something moving in the distance.

Without hesitation, Mattheo seized your wrist, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling you into motion with an intense purpose. "Come on."

Deeper into the forest you followed, the urgency palpable in each step. After a brief but purposeful journey, he slowed, guiding you behind a tree with a subtle urgency, the surroundings now cloaked in a heightened sense of alertness. As you pressed against the rough bark, the sounds of animals moving reached your ears, an eerie symphony veering closer.

In the veiled darkness, Mattheo's firm grip on your wrist subsided as he released you, his movements fluid despite the rivers of rain streaming down his face and body. Unfazed, he reached for his gun with practiced ease, the metallic click of it being cocked and the safety being flicked off resonating in the air.

Brows furrowed in confusion, you met his eyes, searching for answers. Mattheo, seemingly calm amidst the night's intrigue, noted your perplexity.

With a steady gaze, he said, "This is a thestrals' nest."

Your features contorted even further, not understanding what was happening--caught between the concealment of the tree, the mysterious sounds of the night, and the sudden revelation. Raindrops trickled down your face, mirroring the cascade of questions flooding your mind.

As Mattheo peeked out from behind the tree, you stammered, "A thestrals' nest? But...wh-what do you need that for?" Your heart thundered, fear gripping you. "...you're not hurting them, are you?"

"No," Mattheo's head whipped back at you, raising a hand to his face and pushing his sopping hair off his forehead. "I'm protecting them."

You paused. "You're-"

"Merlin's sake you ask a lot of questions, don't you?" He teased, an amused glint in his eyes despite the undercurrent of annoyance in his tone. "It's a long story, but basically I've spent a lot of fucking time in this forest...pretty much every night since first year I'd come out here...and one night, I just started studying them, their sounds, behaviours...just watching what they do."

A pause lingered, pregnant with anticipation. Mattheo cast another furtive glance beyond the sheltering tree, his gaze slicing through the darkness like a laser. When he pivoted to meet your eyes, the intensity of his gaze held a silent invitation into his life.

"But then my fascination extended beyond just watching them. I took out some textbooks, literally the only books I've ever taken out of the library, other than that book on stars, were about them...I just wanted to know everything," he said, cautiously examining your stunned face. "And by doing that I found out that they're vulnerable to certain predators, but especially Acromantulas...so as the years went on, and I noticed their population dwindling, I knew exactly the reason why, and I knew I had to do something about it."

"I tried spells, natural deterrents, enchanting the trees...didn't work. I even planted a bunch of magical herbs and plants around their nest, ones that emit scents that are repulsive to Acromantulas, but they're not strong enough, I guess." Another brief pause, another glance out behind the tree. "I had to get creative...I went to Snape...told him about my idea, and he was on board. He gave me permission to enchant the gun, and actually helped me devise a spell called Stellaverti specifically for this purpose. It's not meant to harm the spiders; it's designed to deter them effectively without causing any lasting damage."

He took a deep breath, his voice steady. "When I cast the spell on the bullets, they transform into magical projectiles. Upon impact, they create a blinding light and emit a loud, echoing noise. It's disorienting and frightening, encouraging them to retreat. The effects are temporary, wearing off after a few minutes, but the spell allows me to safeguard them while still keeping them and others free from harm."

Your jaw hung agape, every fiber of your being seemingly pulled skyward. Speech escaped you, a silent symphony of astonishment conducted within. Vibrations of disbelief and internal tremors accompanied each uttered revelation, leaving you in a state of wordless chaos. When words finally left your lips, you didn't even know what the hell you were saying.

"You created a fucking spell?"  Your voice, louder than intended, verged on a near scream. The question, a burst of astonishment, reverberated through the forest. "Why not wield your wand directly?"

"Using my wand directly poses a risk, Raven. If I were to miss, the spell might deflect, hit something else, causing unintended consequences..." he said, his expressions completely serious. "With the modified handgun, I can maintain a safer distance while ensuring precision and accuracy. It's about minimizing risks and maximizing the effectiveness of the deterrent."

He paused for a moment before adding, "Plus, having a dedicated tool specifically enchanted for this purpose allows me to act fast...I only do this for a couple weeks during the Acromantula breeding cycle, when they're more aggressive...they usually stay fucked off for the rest of the year."

As Mattheo's explanation hung in the air, you stood there, utterly speechless, your mind trying to grasp the depth of what he just revealed. The man who others perceived as indifferent to everything had been quietly dedicating himself to safeguarding these enchanting, misunderstood creatures all this fucking time. A profound sense of beauty unfolded in the revelation, leaving you stunned by the contrast between perception and reality.

Despite the rain seeping into every crevice, a newfound warmth enveloped you. In this mystical realm, your shock transformed into a profound appreciation for Mattheo's silent commitment to protect the fragile balance of the forest. It was a revelation that transcended the weather, the night, and everything else, leaving you with an indescribable certainty that you always fucking knew--beneath the surface, there was more to this man than met the eye. Despite all he's been through, there was still good in him.

"Stay put, and be quiet…” Mattheo instructed in a hushed tone, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that demanded obedience. “Please.”

When you nodded, he moved, darting out from behind the tree, shifting toward a closer one with swift purpose. Peering out from your hidden vantage point, the thestrals' nest unveiled itself--a spectral scene of maternal serenity juxtaposed against the dark mystery of the forest. Yet, the tranquility was shattered by the impending arrival of Acromantulas, their looming forms casting a foreboding shadow over the ethereal tableau.

Your focus shifted to Mattheo, becoming a silent witness to a ballet of controlled power and graceful precision. Like a predator in fluid motion, he maneuvered through the trees, a master of stealth. His every step seemed to echo with purpose, aligning effortlessly with the approaching threat while remaining veiled behind the foliage.

In the orchestrated dance between protector and adversary, Mattheo's movements radiated a controlled power, a testament to years of dedication. As he raised the enchanted gun, a cascade of spells erupted with an otherworldly grace, each shot hitting its mark with eerie precision. With each resounding pop from Mattheo's weapon, the Acromantulas recoiled, swiftly retreating into the rainy silence. The echoes of their hurried departure lingered in the air, blending with the sound of branches snapping in the distance as the forest reclaimed its calm.

Mattheo, having deftly wielded the weapon, then lowered it with deliberate ease once he had scared the last of them off. He tucked it back into his pants before moving toward the thestrals, his movements now mirroring a far more soothing rhythm. Gently petting them, he reassured the creatures that the threat had passed, murmuring words of safety and comfort amidst the delicate patter of raindrops.

Stammering through the aftermath, you approached him, your mind in complete disarray, grappling with the revelation that shattered all of your preconceived notions. Everything you thought you knew about this man had been upended, leaving you standing on the precipice of understanding, yet feeling like you were teetering on the edge of an unknown abyss.

Words eluded you, lost in the echoes of enchanted gunfire and the fading retreat of Acromantulas. Your gaze lingered on Mattheo, who now stood amidst the thestrals, his demeanor shifting from vigilant protector to a gentle guardian, and it was in this moment of perplexity, a newfound attraction stirred within you, a magnetic pull fueled by the complexity that unveiled itself beneath Mattheo's exterior. The dichotomy of strength and tenderness, protector and nurturer, had never been more alluring, and you'd never been more fucking attracted to him in your life.

As you closed the distance, his gaze met yours, the intensity in his irises now softened to a warmth akin to melted chocolate. Rivulets of rain cascaded down his face, weaving through the contours of features that seemed to shed the need for concealment. It was as though, in this rain-soaked sanctuary, he’d finally found the freedom to reveal his true self.

In the weighty silence, he blinked, a subtle tension clinging to him. "I've said a lot tonight, and I understand if it's too much for you-"

But you cut through the air, your words breaking free in an unguarded moment, shaking your head as you stepped closer, kinking your neck back to fully catch his eyes.

"I am so fucking in love with you."

——————————-

Find chapter 28->

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Dali and Henrique with a partner who teaches their kids her native tongue?

Dali had to admit, though he wanted to go this parenting thing alone at first, it was much easier putting the children to bed with two people.

While he busied himself with picking up the nursery, getting it ready to be destroyed the next day like Sisyphus & his boulder, while [Y/N] sent them off to dream land. Once he finished cleaning up, Dali went to their bedroom to tuck them in as well. A soft, sweet song coming from the open door as he got closer.

Stella stellina La notte s’avvicina La fiamma traballa La mucca è nella stalla

La mucca e il vitello La pecora e l’agnello La chioccia e il pulcino Ognuno ha il suo bambino Ognuno ha la sua mamma E tutti fan la nanna

He couldn’t understand the words, but recognized it was a lullaby and one his sons seemed to know well. Ul already drifting to sleep in his crib and Raphael quietly singing along before his eye couldn’t stay open anymore. “To drift off to sleep to the sound of angels. My boys sure are lucky.”

[Y/N] turned to look over their shoulder and gave Dali a smile. “They won’t be asleep much longer if you don’t keep it down.”

Dali smile back, but still came into the room to give Ul & Raphael a soft kiss goodnight. Hearing Raphael give a sleepy “Buona notte” before leaving with [Y/N] in toe. “What does the song mean?”

“The song? Oh, it’s just a silly little song about the stars being out and it’s time to go to bed. My mother used to sing it to me when I was little.”

His smile deepened. As a noble, Dali had no such memories as a child. Nannies, or Clara, being the only ones to sing him to sleep, if it ever happened. Their country must be very different when it came to family, along with their language. “You will have to teach it to me sometime.”

[Y/N] smiled. “Well, there’s no time like the present!”

It was late in the evening when Henrique came home from work that evening. With a vacation planned to visit [Y/N]’s home in France, there were a lot of things he had to do before they'd finally let Henrique be happy. He sighed as he came in the door. The things he did for love.

Vaulting up the stairs to see his girls, Henrique found them in one of the playrooms. Patiently sitting there with [Y/N] at the table.

“Bonjour papa!”

“Bonjour papa!” Lucia and Elena greeted him in tandem. “Comment s'est passé le travail ce soir?”

“Wow!” Henrique praised. “You girls sound like real Parisian children.”

[Y/N] chuckled. “Well, I can’t have them visiting my homeland, nor any of the couturier we plan to visit, speaking like uncultured urchins.”

“Do you want to try papa?” Elena asked.

“Yes! I’m sure papa would be très bien!”

Henrique chuckled as he sat down at the table too. “Sorry girls. The only French your papa knows is ‘champagne’ and ‘croissant’.”

The girls giggled. “Well, I guess that’s all you need to get by.” [Y/N] told him.

“Hasn’t failed me yet!”

When the girls darted off to go play, once they were bored with their lesson, Henrique came around the table to stand next to [Y/N]. “You know, there is one more bit of French I do know.”

Curious, [Y/N] asked him, “Oh? What’s that?” With a grin Henrique leaned in to whisper in their ear. Their face went immediately red and they swatted him in the arm. “Henrique!” They exclaimed. “Where did you hear that from?!”

“From you.” Henrique laughed. Realizing that they hadn’t known that they slipped into their mother tongue when they were in bed together.

Henrique thought it was very cute. And though not a lesson for children, he’d have to see if it got ‘worse’ when they were in Paris.

[raphael-angele]

If Hades raised Nico and Bianca Part 38 (feat AnArchy)

Baby Nico: Mammina, look!

Persephone, coming closer: What is it, Nico?

Baby Nico: *points to a small spider* Look!

Persephone: Oh, it's a spider.

Baby Nico: It's furry *about to touch it*

Persephone: No. *pulls his hand away* Nico, no. Don't touch it. We don't know if it'll hurt you.

Baby Nico: Aw :( but it's pretty.

Persephone: I know, bambino. But we can't just-

Bianca, approaching from behind: Mammina.

Persephone: Yes, little doe?

Bianca: My face feels fuzzy

Persephone: *turns around to see Bianca's face full of caterpillars* OH MY GODS, BIANCA! *rushes to help her*

Baby Nico: *looks to see if Persephoneis looking then pets the spider*

Spider: :)

Baby Nico: Hehe :) From now on, your name is Archy.

After taking off all the caterpillars from her face:

Bianca: *sees Archy* Heey! I saw another spider just like that over there *points to another bush* I named it Ann

---

Nico: Papa, look! *shows drawing* Bianca and I drew our spiders!

Hades, not paying attention: That's nice, Nico.

Hades: *realizes* Wait a minute, where did you get spiders?

Bianca: From Mammina's garden. There are a lot of caterpillars there, too.

Hades: And she just...let you keep them as pets?

Bianca: Well...we named them.

Hades:

---

Some time later:

Nico, looking for Archy: :( *goes to Persephone* Mammina...

Persephone: Yes, Nico?

Nico: I can't find Archy.

Bianca: And I can't find Ann.

Persephone: Oh, well, maybe they're on another plant.

Nico: But they always stay on that plant. They never change plants.

Melinoë: Mother! Bianca! Nico! It's time for lunch!

Persephone: Okay, why don't you two go get ready for lunch and I'll try to look for them okay?

Nico and Bianca: Mkay :(

---

Spoiler: Persephone found them and let them keep them in their rooms. Hades allowed this. Zagreus never entered their rooms again because of this, Ann and Archy love Melinoë.

---

Some time later on when they're already in camp:

Nico, staying in the Hermes cabin: Connor...

Connor: What's wrong, Nico?

Nico: Have you seen Ann and Archy?

Connor: ...Who?

Nico: Ann and Archy. They were supposed to be in mine and Bia's trunks but they're not there anymore.

Connor: Oh, uhm, hey, Travis!

Travis: What's up?

Connor: Have you seen Ann and Archy?

Travis: Who?

Connor: Apparently, they're Nico's and Bianca's stuffed toys, I guess?

Nico: *giggles* No, silly. Ann and Archy aren't toys.

Travis: Well what are they then?

Nico: SPIDERS!

Travis:

Connor:

Hermes Cabin:

Travis: What?

Nico: Ann and Archy are spiders. They have really furry bodies. Ann is purple and Archy is green!

Travis:

Connor:

Hermes Cabin:

Travis: Okay...nobody freak out...

Spoiler: Everybody freaked out and a lot of Athena kids got claimed that day. Ann and Archy were hiding in Bianca's sleeping bag.

[klownfuckery]

I love the way you write 👉🏻👈🏻 May I request some more Franco from you? Perhaps with a reader who is fascinated by him and follows him around only to panic when he spots her! (Totally not based on my behaviour ingame) Thank you! 🩷

Yes ofc 🫶 Sorry for the late reply. I’d kept making drafts for this ask and every-time I thought I was finished my brain was all like, ‘… yeah, that’s great. But what if we re-wrote it again? 🥴’

Anywho, hope you enjoy :P

.*✩Franco il Bambino Barbi/Reader ✩*.

Surviving in the Sinyala facility was no small feat, some took to their new living conditions more easily than others— like fish to water. You were not among those lucky few. If you were to continue the trend of using comparisons, you’d suppose you’re more akin to that of a sad little sardine. Flopping about awkwardly on the docks, waiting for somebody to grant you pity and mercifully nudge you back into the water.

Whereas others would brazenly leap into the fray, stun-rig ready at hand; you would creep around the perimeter of the trial-grounds. Scavenging and scouting, giving call-outs when able to. Never had you been a confrontational person, and if your teammates wanted to take a more combative stance, who were you to get in the way of that? You’d still support them, of course. Safely. From a distance.

It was during another such occasion, when you’d been helping chuck hearts at the Futterman targets. It wasn’t morbid once you got used to it, and as long as you didn’t think too long about the squishy organ in your hand— well. It was almost enough to not question where the hell a seemingly infinite amount of vital organs were coming from. Almost.

Creeping through the gloom of the faux diner to re-arm yourself with more hearts, you quickly scrambled under one of the booths with bated breath as the diner’s bell jingles cheerfully. Something, or someone, has followed you inside.

Through infrared goggles, you watch, transfixed, as the newest prime-asset, ex-mafiaso, Franco Barbi, stalks forward.

It was silly to admit even in the sanctity of your own mind, but you’ve always been a fan of those detective novellas. More specifically, their frightfully charismatic antagonists. You swore up and down, it was sheer happenstance that Franco unknowingly managed to check all of your boxes— and not the man himself.

You don’t think he can see you, at least you’d hoped so. The man’s eyesight is poor, and even poorer in the dark. You’ve used this against him more times than you could possibly count— and it was admittedly a little funny to watch the mobster huff and pout with you just a mere few feet away. One could even say he was almost… endearing like that.

Despite walking mostly blind, Franco moves with the confidence of someone who owns the joint— or more likely someone who knows nobody else could possibly lay a finger on him. That speculation is only exacerbated by the sight of his pinstripe suit. Neatly pressed— or as neat as one’s clothes can be in here. The desired look is heavily crippled by the generous smattering of ruddy spills staining the once pristine fabric. His shotgun, Lupara, hangs loosely from his hand like an afterthought. The way he carries it utterly flippant. As if it’s presence isn’t a herald of death, and just… is. Like a an extension of himself, a limb. There was no Franco ‘il Bambino’ Barbi without Lupara.

The man’s eyes seem to glow through the lens of your goggles, pupils reflective and giving a ghostly-look as he surveys the area. Lopsided grin growing, crooked teeth bared as he takes in the overturned chairs.

“ ‘S a real cozy joint,” he muttered, his voice a pleasant rasp. His tone was casual, but there was an edge hiding beneath it, a simmering promise of violence. “Real nice place for a late-night chat, don’t’cha think, Sweetness?”

His wing-tipped shoes crunched on broken glass as he sauntered further in, his gaze sweeping across the room. His grin widened, baring crooked teeth in a lopsided sneer. “You’s cozy in here, Sweets?” he called, his voice deceptively teasing, almost familiar.

You fought the pounding in your chest, the desperate thrum of adrenaline urging you to run, move, do something. The only thing stopping you was a heavy dose of self-preservation. Realistically, he’d hear you before you could take two steps, and you’d end up a gorey, painted smear on the business-end of Lupara. Not only that, but another part of you was morbidly fascinated.

So, like any other sane person in your shoes, you lay still. Crouched low to tiled floor, and watched.

Franco paused near the counter, his engorged head tilting again as though he were listening. His breath rasped in the silence, heavy and uneven. Then he chuckled, a low, guttural sound that made your stomach churn with unease. He reached out, dragging Lupara’s sawed barrel along a nearby table, the sharp scrape setting your teeth on edge. A wordless threat meant to rattle you, and holy-hell does it get the job done.

“You’re not playin’ fair, doll,” he drawls, voice taking on a mockingly hurt tone. Nasally in pitch, wobbly, as if he’s about to cry. “I thought we’s had somethin’ special.”

Abruptly, he fired without warning.

The booth beside you splinters in a deafening blast, plates clattering and metal screeching. The reverberation rings around in your skull, causing you to jolt in surprise— for a moment believing you’d been shot. In your panic, your cranium thuds against the underside of the table. Pain throbs through your skull, causing you to whip your hands clasped over your mouth, stifling the reflexive cry that threatened to escape. Above, the countertop rattles with your movement, betraying your presence.

Franco stills.

For a horrifying moment, you thought he’d heard you. Through the lens of the goggles, you watch him crouch low, one hand reaching out to grope blindly under the ruined booth. His fingers curled, grasping at empty air.

“C’mere mommy,” he mutters darkly. But when his hand fails to find you, he sorely swears under his breath. He then rises back up onto his feet, kicking at the splintered wood like a frustrated child denied dessert.

“Fuckin’ slut, givin’ me the slip.” he roars, spittle dribbling down his lip. The man’s stocky shoulders quake, panting heavily in enraged exertion. For a moment, you think he’s about to double down, rip apart every booth in a mad-rage until he found you. However, in the next moment, he’s taking a deep, stuttering breath. Already back to his smarmy collected calm in the next exhale.

With a disgruntled sigh, he straightens himself out. Wiping his mouth, gloved hand then reaching to fuss with what little hair he has left. When he’s ensured it was coiffed presentably back into place, he slung Lupara over his shoulder, meandering back the way he came.

As the bell jingled again, signaling his exit, your shoulders sagged in relief. The once palpable tension in the air melts, leaving you a trembling, boneless puddle. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Somehow, you’d slipped by him again. But you knew this definitely wouldn’t be the last.

[serene-sun]

Just a funny idea I had the other day; how do you think the ghouls would react to finding (g/n) reader curled up with their tail in their mouth; like one of those habits you get from childhood that you still can’t shake

This is sweet :)

OUR GHOST DISCORD SERVER INFO

Swiss

He stops for a moment and just stares at you before grinning big and petting you for a moment.

“Well aren’t you just sleepy,” 👁️🦷🦷👁️

Mountain

He gives you a soft hug to not wake you up before softly moving it out of your mouth, he doesn’t want your tail to go bald like his did when he was a kit and everyone sucked on his tail.

“Oh dear…” he smiles, setting his cup of tea down.

Sodo

He stares at you for 30 minutes

“I did that.”

Aether

He fixes the blanket on you and kisses your forehead like a little baby, “little bug, little sleeps.” He is also cuteness aggression.

Rain

He really just climbs in and starts to cuddle you.

“Go back to sleep, I was never here.”

Phantom

Stares at you for an hour and a half

“I do that.”

Omega

“Oh my…well doesn’t this bring back memories,” he says as he tucked you in and swishes your hair to the side to kiss you as well

Ifrit

Stares at you for ten minutes

“I wish I could still do that.”

Papa copia

“Aww well just look at the little bambino hm?” Cuteness aggression he is…..

[izzy120]

Cute but dangerous

Part 2

First chapter, the meeting

Pairing: Melissa scemmenti x fem y/n

Summary: you just came from your old school to Abbott Elementary to be Melissa’s co-teacher. But she has been being a total bitch for not even half the day to y/n making her angry. So y/n may or may not have pepper sprayed Melissa in the eyes!

Warnings: cussing, more than usual mean Melissa, I think that’s it, tell me if I missed something!

Italian sayings in English

I’m going to kill that kid: “Sto per uccidere quel bambino”

Idiot: Idiota

Kid: Bimbo

Fucking piece of shit: Cazzo di pezzo di merda

Y/n isn’t quite sure how she ended up here. One moment, she was talking to the principal of her old school, and the next, she’s somehow in the halls of Abbott Elementary. Apparently, one of the teachers needed a teaching assistant—or as some like to call it, a “co-teacher.” But let’s be real, that title felt like a stretch. With a resigned sigh, Y/n adjusted the strap of her small bag, which held all the “essentials”: chapstick, makeup wipes, extra shirts (for inevitable kid-related messes), pepper spray, and a pocket knife. You know, the basics.

Pushing through the school doors, she approached the front desk with a polite smile and a flicker of nervousness in her eyes. “Hi, my name’s Y/n, N/y/n. I’m here to see Principal uh, Ava…I think that’s her name?” Y/n giggled awkwardly, already feeling out of place. Forgetting the principal’s name on day one? Great fucking start. She glanced at the two women behind the desk, who were now staring at her like she’d sprouted a second head.

The silence made Y/n shift uncomfortably, her nerves creeping higher. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked, glancing between them. One of the women, dressed head to toe in maroon—a cardigan over a floral blouse, matching slacks, and perfectly styled hair—looked like she could be Y/n’s mom. Well, if her mom exuded the perfect balance of warmth and authority. The second woman, though… oh boy. Strict, sharp, and undeniably intimidating. Y/n felt her cheeks heat up. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Dear,” the maroon-clad woman said with a motherly smile, snapping Y/n out of her spiral. “I’m guessing you’re the new co-teacher?”

Y/n blinked a few times before nodding quickly. “Yes, ma’am! That’s me!” She accepted the woman’s outstretched hand, shaking it politely.

“I’m Barbara Howard,” the woman introduced herself warmly. “I’m the kindergarten teacher here. And this,” she said, motioning to her work wife, “is Meli—”

“Ms. Schemmenti,” the second woman cut in, crossing her arms and giving Y/n a once-over with a sharp glare.

Barbara sighed and placed a calming hand on her work wife’s shoulder. “Her name is Melissa, dear.”

Y/n nodded, trying not to let the intensity of Melissa’s stare rattle her. “Oh! Wait—are you the person I’m co-teaching with? I got an email about who I’d be assisting, and I think it mentioned you…”

Melissa scoffed and looked away. “Yeah, that’s me. Ava stuck me with two classes this year, so she figured I’d need a little help managing the little eagles.”

Y/n’s face lit up at the nickname. “That’s adorable! Do you give each second-grade class a nickname every year?”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “No, Idiota….Now, come on, let’s get moving, Maddie.”

“That’s not my name… it’s Y/n!” Y/n called after her, rushing to keep up.

Melissa groaned, clearly unimpressed. “If you last more than a month, maybe I’ll remember your name. Until then, Rick.”

Y/n gasped, trailing after her. “That’s not even close! That’s a guy’s name!”

Inside Melissa’s classroom, Y/n was hunched over, panting heavily as she tried to catch her breath. “Wow…hah…you’re a…hah…really fast walker!” she wheezed, still recovering. Melissa shot her a half-smirk, half-frown, clearly trying not to laugh. “Maybe don’t be so slow Bimbo,” Melissa replied dryly before heading to her desk to grab some papers.

Y/n’s exhaustion vanished in an instant as she squealed and rushed over to Melissa. “Is this your desk? Do I get a desk? At my old school, I had the cutest little desk, and I absolutely loved it!” she gushed, smiling proudly. Melissa raised an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, you’ve got a desk.” She walked to the back of the classroom, nudged one of the kids’ desks with her foot, and smirked. “Right here. Happy?”

Y/n wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “Well, I was kind of expecting more of a—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, kid,” Melissa interrupted, walking up to Y/n and pressing a firm finger to her chest. “I’m not your friend. You’ve gotta earn the right to be friendly with me. I won’t remember your name, you’ll call me Ms. Schemmenti, and you’ll sit at that desk with no complaints. This is my classroom, which means my rules. Got it? Capeesh?”

Y/n blinked in shock, a little hurt by the sudden harshness. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, unsure of how to respond.

Melissa gave her a quick once-over and added, “Also, you might wanna change before the kids get here. You look like a pink unicorn shit on you.” She turned back to her desk as if the conversation was over.

Y/n glanced at the small desk Melissa had pointed out and dropped her bag onto it with a huff. “I don’t have anything else to wear that isn’t… my style.” She glanced down at her outfit: a light pink, fluffy dress with ruffles on the shoulders and hem, paired with knee-high white socks, pink ballet flats, and a white bag with a gold heart. Sure, it was a lot of pink, but who cared?

Clenching her fists, Y/n huffed. “You know what? I’m not changing.”

Melissa turned back with an arched brow. “What did you just say

Y/n crossed her arms and glared. “I’m not changing! The girls are gonna love this outfit anyway! And you clearly don’t understand fashion styles if you’re judging me for it.”

To drive her point home, Y/n flipped Melissa off. “Fuck you!” she shouted before storming out of the room in a dramatic exit.

Melissa stood there, stunned. But seconds later, Y/n came rushing back in, grabbed her bag with a sheepish look, and bolted out again, leaving Melissa shaking her head in disbelief.

When the second graders finally arrived, Y/n begrudgingly returned to the classroom to help, though she stayed at the back with her arms crossed, clearly sulking. Her glare was locked on Melissa throughout the lesson, earning her the occasional glance from the older woman.

When lunchtime finally rolled around, Y/n eagerly led the kids to the cafeteria and made her way to the teacher’s lounge. She realized too late that she’d forgotten to put her salad in the fridge that morning, thanks to the fight with Melissa. As she opened the door, she spotted Barbara and Melissa already there.

Y/n immediately perked up at the sight of Barbara, grateful for her warmth and kindness—so unlike Melissa, who seemed determined to make her life miserable. Sliding into the seat next to Barbara, Y/n beamed. “Good afternoon, Barbara!”

Barbara smiled warmly. “Good afternoon, Y/n, dear. Have you met the rest of the staff yet?”

Y/n shook her head. “Not really,” she admitted with a small smile.

Barbara chuckled and began pointing out the other teachers. “That’s Janine,” she said, gesturing to a petite woman with a questionable sense of fashion—not that Y/n could judge right now. “And over there are Gregory and Jacob. Oh, and that’s Mr. Johnson. He’s not a teacher; he’s our janitor.”

Barbara continued introducing the rest of the staff as Y/n nodded along, chuckling. “They all seem so nice. Thanks for telling me their names—I would’ve felt so awkward not knowing them.”

Y/n giggled, but her amusement was cut short when Melissa muttered something under her breath. Turning to glare at her, Y/n pouted. “What did you just say?”

Melissa raised an eyebrow, her expression indifferent. “Hmm?”

Y/n scowled and stood up abruptly. “Ugh! You’ve been a total bitch to me since I got here!”

Janine gasped and immediately rushed over, her hands raised nervously. “L-let’s all calm down, please!” she stammered, clearly more anxious than Y/n had been that morning.

Melissa’s glare hardened. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

“I said you’ve been acting like a TOTAL BITCH!” Y/n shot back, her voice rising.

Melissa stood up so fast her chair scraped against the floor. “That’s it!” she snapped, looking like she was about to lunge at Y/n before Barbara quickly intervened, grabbing Melissa by the arm.

“Melissa, do not!” Barbara scolded, forcing her back into her seat. She turned to address Y/n, only to find the younger woman had already stormed out of the lounge.

Barbara sighed heavily and looked back at Melissa, her expression stern. “What have you been doing to that poor girl?”

Melissa scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. “Okay, maybe I’ve been a little bitchy, but why should I be nice? She’s not gonna last a week here anyway!”

Barbara sat down beside her, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. “And she’ll leave even faster if you keep acting like this.”

“Good riddance,” Melissa muttered under her breath, earning a sharp slap on the shoulder from Barbara.

“Apologize to her. Right now.”

Melissa’s arms remained crossed, her glare unwavering. “I’m not fucking doing tha—”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” Barbara snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Melissa flinched and immediately stood up. “Fine! You didn’t have to use my whole name… sto per uccidere quel bambino,” she grumbled as she stomped out of the room.

Melissa searched the school for Y/n, eventually finding her sitting in the classroom. Rolling her eyes, Melissa walked over quietly, not wanting to make a scene. Without thinking, she placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder.

Y/n jumped with a startled scream and instinctively sprayed pepper spray directly into Melissa’s face.

Melissa let out a pained yell, clutching at her eyes. “I know I pissed you off, but what the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you do that?!”

Y/n froze, horrified by her own reaction. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Melissa, still blinded and livid, groaned through gritted teeth. “Cazzo di pezzo di merda!”

It’s not that good, her personality isn’t exact and this is definitely not the best I’ve ever done. But I hope that you guys liked it!

[quintessenceofdust88]

Fuck it Friday

I was tagged by the amazing @typicalopposite for Fuck it Friday and I decided it'd be a great occasion to post a little more of my 'Nonna Rosa fixes her stupido grandson's relationship' that I started on Wednesday! It's really just a snippet, but I hope to have if finished and published this weekend, so yay ♥ Happy Friday, everyone! (and later today I promise I'll get around to publish the prompts that are in my inbox!!)

“Pronto? Tommasino?” She answers the call, as always with the camera too close to her face to the point where Tommy can only see one glimpse of her eye, and that at least brings a smile to his face.

“Nonna, you need to stretch your arm a little. Remember, like Charlie showed you?” He asks with a chuckle; Charlie being his cousin’s daughter, Charlotte, who taught Nonna how to FaceTime so she could ‘see Tommasino’s pretty face more often’, in her own words. 

She stretches her arm and Tommy gets a good look at her. Nonna looks the same as always, sharp blue eyes in a soft face that’s wrinkled both from age and from a lifetime of smiles. Her hair is wrapped in hair rollers and tucked safely behind a red bandana. Tommy misses her fiercely, and wishes more than ever that he could get wrapped in one of her hugs. 

They always did wonders for him when he was a little boy who used to climb trees and get scrapes and bruises; when he was a scared eleven-year-old missing his mother (and as a grown-up he can appreciate Nonna was hurting at least as much as him, having lost her daughter, but still never let it show) and dealing with an angry abusive father; when he was a scared eighteen-year-old leaving the only home he’d ever known to join the Army. And when he was a scared 33-year-old man, coming out as gay to his 75 year-old-grandmother, afraid of being rejected by the one person alive who truly loved him, and Nonna had stood on her tiptoes, pulled him into one of those hugs, and told him all she ever wanted for Tommy was to see him happy. 

A hug from his grandmother had always made Tommy feel like the world was an easier place to be faced, and right now, that’s exactly what he needs. And his longing must show in his face, because she’s frowning at him, her eyes full of concern. 

“Oh, Tommasino” She says softly. “What’s wrong, bambino mio? You look so sad” She asks, and to Tommy’s horror, he finds his eyes filling up. Nonna has that way of bringing out every emotion he tries to repress.

“Everything’s wrong, Nonna, and it’s all my fault”

-- Np tagging @bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @30somethingautisticteacher and whoever else wants to join! :D

[sinner-for-starker]

"Come on, bambino, be a champ and take daddy's cock." Tony whispers to his son as he pressed his tip against his son's cunt. Peter was slowly reduced into a babbling mess with tears running down his cheeks as he relaxes his cunt around his dad's big cock.

"Too big." Peter hiccups- eyes wide- looking so sinful with moist cherry red lips- flushed pale skin and glassy doe eyes. "D-daddy- it's- you're too big for me!"

"Oh no- is my little kiddo feeling sore with just daddy's tip inside his cunt?" Tony asks in a fake condescending manner, he reaches in between them and began playing with the boy's clit, the boy shrieks- arching his pretty back off of the bed. "You can do it, sweetie pie, you're daddy's good boy right? You want to be daddy's good boy?"

Peter whines and nods promptly, "Y-yes! Yes- Am- Am daddy's good boy." his kiddo says in a more confident tone. Tony could feel his son's walls relaxing around him but fuck- the boy was still so fucking tight around his thick cock.

"That's it- that's it, m' boy, just like that- fuuuuck- fuck you always feel so good around daddy's cock, my love, the light of life." Tony praises Peter as he began moving his hips in a slow gait, his hips snapping with hard fervor as he forces his cock deeper into his son's smaller cunt.

Peter's small moans and movements of his hips to meet Tony's pace was enough of an indication that the boy was enjoying it- with tears running down his cheeks, Tony leans close and licks the boy's cheek before pressing his mouth against Peter's lips, locking his son into a feral saliva-exchange while Tony pounded his cock, hitting every spot that makes Peter squeal into his mouth.

"Da-dad! Daddy! Am gon- gonna cum daddy!" Pete wails into Tony's mouth.

"Go ahead kiddo, come on, cum on your father's cock, make a mess, give it all to your daddy, bambino." Tony growls as he hammered his hips harder and faster into Peter's pink cunt that was now squirting and gushing cum on his cock. With three more deep thrusts, he cums with a low grunt, his hips wavering and stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, filling his son womb with his potent cum.

"Mmm- daddy- so full." Peter says in a gibberish manner, already cock drunk and hazed with pleasure, eyes half closed as he looked at Tony.

"Of course, baby, gotta have my kiddo full and well-bred right?" Tony whispers, pressing kisses against his son's temple, pulling him closer for a hug while his cock stayed inside his son's cunt.

Peter doesn't answer but Tony chuckled when all he could hear were soft snores from his baby boy.

"Good night, 'bino. I love you so much." Tony says tenderly, tucking his kid in with his arms wrapped protectively around his son.

This is dedicated to my baby boy: @tnpt-depravity, I hope you like it my love. And thanks to starkercest fam for encouraging me to write, you peeps are amazing and I'm glad I met y'all.

[ray935sworld]

Christmas time and children's laughter

Rosquez dealing with the de-aged academy kids during the winter

24.12 winter writing - Merry christmas everyone

based on this AU

"PAAAAPAAAA!!!!"

Vale couldn't help but laugh when Pecco ran to him, his little face covered in snow. The neck of his jacket and the scarf around his neck was covered in white as well.

"Andrea threw the ball in my face!" he complained, his lip slightly shivering. The other boy audible cracking up in the background.

"Awe, poor bambino" he said, kneeling down and lifting him up. He hold him close and kissed his cheek. The skin was soft and cold on his lips.

When his face was next to Pecco's ear he whispered. "Okay, don't tell your dad but you need to stay low. Don't immediately jump back in the fight. Make a snow ball in secret. Then you call out for him and when he turns around you're going to throw it right in his face, understood?"

And with that the kids face lit up. He looked at Vale with a cheeky grin and nodded.

"But don't tell your dad!" he quickly added as he set him back down to which the small curly headed child just yelled "YEEEAAAAH!" as he ran off again.

"Good. Or else in spending christmas on the couch" he added silently to himself as he watched his kids play.

Migno, Franky and Pecco were busy doing a snowball fight. So far Pecco was definitely losing. Poor kid, getting tag teamed by the two. His face got completely washed.

After a few more minutes, Vale decided that if he didnt intervene Marc would give him the 'no fucking for a month' treatment. And he didn't want to risk that.

So he kneeled down, hearing his knees crack for a moment but uncaringly starting to scrape up a few snow balls.

As soon as he was ready, he throw the first one at his oldest sons back and giggled when he saw his confused expression as he turned around. Next was Migno.

"Come on!" he yelled with a smile "Or are you too afraid?" He throw one of the balls he had formed up, caught it and threw it up again. He grinned daringly.

It was when his 3 boys looked at each other with the same expression, a stern look they shared, before giving a small smile and a nod, that he knew he fucked up.

"GET HIM!" Migno screamed before they were running towards him, each a small bundle of snow in hand.

"Shi-" Was all he managed to say before the kids decided to shower him completely in snow. It was surprising how much impact the little bit of snow had that they managed to fit in their palm when they seemed to have a natural rotation system.

While the two 5 years old threw their snow rather uncoordinated, 7 year old Franky got some pretty good hits, right in the face. They also managed to silently work out a system in which one is always distracting Vale with new hits while the others starts scrambling snow together and then swap.

After a few minutes of that, while the adult barely manages to land a few good hits, he decided that this was not worth it.

"OKAY!" he screamed, lifting his hands up. "Okay! Okay! I surrender! Mercy! Mercy!" He was hit with another snowball right in the face.

Surprised he spit the snow out his mouth, looking at them with a faked angry expression when Franky screamed "Now we accept your surrender!" and his two brother started giggling.

He was glad to see them happy. It was a relief that they didn't understand the chaos that was the world around them. It was like the ranch was an invisible island for them to flee to, where none of them had to face any worries or consequences.

He remembered taking the boys on a little walk. Luca had been sitting on his shoulder, Cele on his hip and Pecco on his hand.

They were looking at the Christmas lights. It had been late evening. Marc and the rest of their little chaos gang were a little bit left behind since Bez and Franky had started a sword fight in the forest with sticks and refused to stop before one had won.

Andrea was cheering for them. Marc had stayed behind to make sure they didn't accidentally stabbed their own eyes out.

Luca was currently pointing at a particular house that was lighting up with lights in every color when they were approached by Isabella, an elderly woman.

"OH look at you, Vale!" she had laughed. "Being the caretaker of a few kids. Well, hello. Who are you, my little darling?" In that moment the older rider had felt a cold sweat run over his whole body.

If anyone else found out - He refused to think about it.

"Family" he had answered quickly. "They are part of mine and Marc's family-" which technically wasn't a lie but somehow they had managed to keep the fact that the whole academy had been de-aged a secret and he wouldn't break that now.

"OH how lovely..." she smiled but then tilted her haid. Her eyes were locked on Luca who - with the curiosity of a 4 year old - returned her gaze. "Yes, now that you mention it... He does look excatly like your brother when he was young. He looks like Luca, down to every detail. And he used to sit on your shoulders during your walks too"

"Must be a family trait" he said. "But I am-" The little one started so Vale quickly made a move to indicate that he had to head home. "And you know - eh - genetics. Sometimes kids look very much alike. I see you around. I don't want the little ones in the cold for that long"

Before she - or worst one of the kids - could make another comment, he quickly continued.

"Papa, why didn't you tell her that Luca is Luca?" Cele asked, leaning his small head against his chest. He was tired from their long walk and blinked with heavy eyelids. He looked like he was about to fall asleep.

"Or introduced us?" Pecco supplied.

"Yeah. Are we secret?" Luca asked and suddenly Vale felt very cornered. He wanted to say no but the answer was yes. He wanted to deny it and embrace them, prove them that he would never deny that they are his kids - even if there wasn't a biological connection.

"Of course not" he replied with a fake smile and guided them back home.

Home.

The ranch.

The place where it felt safe for them to just ran around and have fun like children were supposed to.

Franky was already riding. He had a small mini dirt bike. The first time he had seen it, he had screamed and jumped around like they had never seen before. He had jumped on Marc and Vale, hugged them, thanking them.

Watching his ride - even if it was barely more than 15km/h - nearly gave Vale a heart attack. He just wanted to run after him, holding him tight and safe to make sure he didn't fall and got hurt.

Marc looked more secure, but still had an anxious hint in his eyes. He had grabbed Vale's hand. "Don't worry" he whispered, kissing his cheeks. "He'll be safe"

He had squeezed his hand. Maybe as a reassurance. Maybe as a way to make sure that Vale wouldn't end up running after him.

After all Franky had already proven he had the talent to become a world champion and even a runner up for the motogp title.

Luca and Pecco were still on the mini bikes. It was slightly better to watch them drive their circles but still -

But now, they were just running around, in the snow, laughing and being happy. There was no danger around. They were safe. Safe and happy.

"Come on!" Vale decided and reached for his boys. "How about we go inside and check if we'll get you kids a hot chocolate. Does that sound good?" "YES!" they all screamed.

The older Italian couldn't help but smile as he watched them run over the large garden back towards the door. "I'll be first!" Migno screamed as they ran, but got quickly over taken by Franck who had the advantage of longer legs.

"WINNER!" he yelled with a triumphant smile. He wasn't far behind them so he quickly yelled "But im the only one with keys!"

He then unlocked the back down and watched as they put their shoes off - some more careful then others - and then moved on to the jackets.

Whiel Pecco and Franky hand them up, Andrea let his fall to the floor. He was already about to turn around when Vale gave him a scolding look.

"Andrea" he said. "What did you forgot?" "Eh..." helplessly he looked at Franco. Because - of course Franky would be able to help. And really, he leaned over and whispered "Hang our coats" "Hang ourself!" the other repeated louder and with a few more mistakes.

Vale stared at him for a split second. He didn't know if he should laugh out loud or not. He decided to smile and slowly point at his coat that had fallen of. "Hang our coats. If you're already repeating Franco, please do it correctly"

"Sorry" he muttered with a little eye roll. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Vale asked. "NO!" Migno screamed and started running, Pecco immediately close behind him. "Papa! We're baaaack!" he yelled. "Ey! Wait for me, I've got little legs"

Shaking his head, while Franco ran behind them and Vale followed his 3 boys in the direction of the kitchen.

He heard their mixed voiced before he even arrived and smiled.

He entered and a joyix feeling overcome him.

He saw Marc, standing with the back to him, working on something. Franky and Migno were standing next to him, touching his arm to show them how cold their hands had gotten.

Pecco had shuffled to the oven were a bunch of Christmas cookies were baking. He was holding his hands out, warming them, while Cele sat next to him. There was a little bit of flour left on the top of his nose and on his shirt.

Marco was sitting opposite of Marc. He wore a Christmas head. He looked like he was in deep concentration. His forehead was laying in deep folds and his tongue was sticking out at one side.

Luca was sitting next to him, almost as focused. His head was tilted to the side and his nose was scrunched up. He wore the antlers of a reindeer. Something told Vale that it had been Cele and Marco who forced Luca to wear them.

"Papa!" Bez exclaimed when he looked up. He had a big grin on his face. It looked excatly like the one big Bez always had. "LOOK!" he said and showed him a cookie he had been decorating.

It was Christmas tree colored in yellow with edible pearls all over it. "That's your tree! Cause it's yellow" "Wow, thank you, Marco" he replied with a smile. "It's very nice"

With a satisfied smile he continued his work. There was a whole bunch of colored cookies already he noticed as he approached them.

It felt familiar. Domestic. It felt like the most perfect moment of home.

And to completely the moment he sneaked up behind Marc, pulling him close. He pressed himself against him, putting his head on his shoulder. He hugged him, refusing to let him go.

"I love you" he whispered and felt Marc's hand coming up to feel over his cold cheek. "Love you too" he replied.

He turned around on his arms to face him. Vale still hold him close but now he was able to look him in tbe eyes. For a moment they just looked at each other. Both clearly happy and in awe about their new life and situation with the kids.

Even if the little ones sometimes almost bought them to insanity and they had crashed on the couch in exhaustion, more than once, they were happy. They wouldn't trade it for anything.

And they were in love. So Marc leaned in to kiss his lover. He felt his lips on his and just as he was about to deepen the kiss he heard in unisono a 6 voice strong "IIIIIIIGGGGGHHHHH!" that somehow made the moment perfect.

[vesseloflukola]

My prediction for the

SAG Awards on Sunday:

I think that both Nicola and Luke will be at the SAG Awards on Sunday. Here are a few reasons why:

1. Nicola did not attend Elle UK’s 40 For 40 Women in Film and Television Power List Party. Since it was in London, where she lives, I believe she would have gone if she were in town.

2. We have not seen Nicola (or Luke) at London Fashion Week.

3. Nicola posted a story on Instagram yesterday at 5 pm LA time, which would have been 1 am London time. We do know she has been posting at odd hours of the day recently. However, I believe she realized that the fandom had noticed and has pulled back a little. I think the timing of this story was very intentional.

4. The fact that Luke has not been papped since Sorento, and then gets randomly papped going out to get coffee seems strange. He seems to know how to stay off the paparazzi’s radar. I think there was intention behind the timing of those pics. I believe it was to keep the fandom busy looking in the wrong direction as Nic, Luke, and the bambino flew to LA. (Side note here: I think Nic and Luke may have bought a house in Kensionton, since the fandom knows way too much about Nic’s house in Hackney. Additionally, I believe Nic is renting out her Hackney house to Jake…or just letting him stay there).

What I think we will see from Nic and Luke at the SAG Awards:

I do not think Nicola and Luke will walk the red carpet together. I think they will walk separately and take single pics. I do think there is a possibility that they could be in a group picture on the red carpet with all of the other Bridgerton cast who attend.

I am going to make a BOLD prediction that Nicola will NOT wear black to this event. I think her black era is coming to an end. If I had to guess what color I DO see her wearing, I think I will say Bridgerton Blue. I think that would be an appropriate way to represent “happily married, with a baby” Polin. I don’t think that Luke will necessarily match her (although I would love it if he did), but I think they will at least co-ordinate. Luke in a gray suit would coordinate nicely with the Bridgerton Blue, don’t you think? Maybe he could even pair it with a blue shirt.

Of course this is all speculation. I have no way to actually know if Nic and Luke will attend the awards or what they will wear. How many predictions will I get right? I guess I will just have to watch and see.

[agendabymooner]

pocketful of sunshine || dr3 scenario

dad!daniel ricciardo x mom!ofc (måneskin member!ofc)

POSSIBLE EXTENSION TO HERE COMES THE SUN

Summary: Dark curls, wide smiles, clinginess — Beau Ricciardo, the birthday boy, checked off the list of things that made him the Alpha Tauri driver Daniel’s mini me and the Måneskin bassist Lester was the one to confirm that.

Content warning: WHOLESOME FLUFF, brief Italian dialogue + translation, mentions Lando Norris x OFC (Nicola), zoo trip + an Irwin appearing, Dad!Danny loves his boy so much I might cry, too much fluff, frowny and happy baby, nicknames (‘little par’ = see this fic for reference)

Note: My body is on an all time low rn but I’ve had this in my draft for a while so… enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

“Danny~ what’s taking you so—“ Lester Ricciardo abruptly stopped herself from saying anything more as her eyes were trained on her husband and son. 

It was as if they were caught in the act, both Daniel and Beau Ricciardo’s eyes widening after chatting amongst themselves over the pair of shoes that Daniel had put on the one year old. 

Well… it was more like Daniel was doing the talking while Beau would provide an input or two— a series of babblings that no one really understood. Apparently, putting on Beau’s shoes took longer than expected Lester had to check and see what they were on. 

“Wh- mio caro, it’s almost— eleven,” Lester told Daniel with a baffled voice. “The zoo staff will come looking for us if we don’t head there soon.” 

“Yeah, we’re done here, look at him,” Daniel presented Beau to his wife with a beam. “Handsome boy, no?” 

Lester’s frown softened when she laid her eyes on her son. This little being that once grew inside her body was bigger now and she hated it so much.

Beau Ricciardo was supposed to stay a baby, and it wasn’t as if she could fault him for growing so much. She just wished he didn’t grow this fast. 

Beau’s big smile, despite being small, lightened up her world as much as Daniel’s grin and cheeky comments did. He was so much like Daniel.

“Very handsome indeed,” Lester grinned after Beau’s smile widened at the sight of his Mum. “You’re a very handsome boy, bambino. Vorrei che tu non dovessi crescere così velocemente. Credo di poter incolpare tuo padre per questo, eh?” I wish you didn’t have to grow this fast. I guess I can blame your father for this, eh?

It was as if Beau could easily grasp the Italian words that escaped his mother’s mouth as he nodded eagerly. 

Daniel laughed heartily at his boy’s response and picked him up, allowing Beau to cling to him. “A smart boy, too. My little bilingual boy,” Daniel praised, giving a peck on his son’s cheek. “Only problem is— are your Zia Cola and Zio Lando ready?” 

Now, both Daniel and Lester loved Lando Norris dearly — as if he was family already (god bless his relationship with Lester’s sister and all that) but they both loathed how late he could get on certain occasions. If he was to do that on this occasion— during his godson Beau’s birthday trip to the Australia Zoo — then God only knew what Lester could do to him. He might get strangled or he might be able to get away from it but Lester would aim for the former. 

“Oh mio dio,” Lester swore beneath her breath, her face etching with annoyance before she sighed. “Let’s just leave them— we’re going to be late.”

“I’ll call them,” Daniel told his wife, a smile still resting on his face as he said, “You have to relax—“

“Danny—“

“Beau is one today, my darling,” Daniel grinned, eyes widening as a warning as he said, “We can’t be cranky on such a happy day! That right, bud? Can you say ‘sì’, Beau-Bear?” 

“Sì!” Beau followed suit, raising his arms up to express his excitement and happiness. If only Beau wasn’t Lester’s adorable baby, his infuriatingly adorable smile would’ve led her to pinch his cheeks hard enough for him to cry.

“See?” Daniel gave Lester a reassuring smile before he reached over to kiss her on the forehead, “Happy day, Lori. Your son is growing big like his Daddy and we gotta be happy about it.”

It wasn’t every day someone got to say that they’d spent their first birthday in a zoo with an Irwin. It was Beau Ricciardo’s lucky day, perhaps. Not that he knew; he was only one. 

As he continued to grow, his interest in animals became increasingly apparent. It was one of those things that Lester made sure he knew about, seeing as she spent her free time watching endless National Geographic documentaries about whatever. 

Her free time, or rather a maternal leave from her band and some time away from the media, was time spent with her son.

She knew that Beau wasn’t going to be little forever. She could freely stay at home in comparison to Daniel, seeing as she created her own schedule and built her band from the ground up with her friends. Her job wasn’t as demanding as Daniel’s, and perhaps that was why Daniel wished to retire from racing after Beau was born. 

The Formula One driver wasn’t able to see his son as much as his wife would, and every minute spent on the track was a minute that prevented him from becoming the best Daddy to Beau.

He never truly pointed that out to his wife, but Lester wasn’t blind and had immediately expressed that his career was what would eventually lead Beau to his successes; after all, they’ve got a future world champion in their hands. 

But for now, that future world champion was just spending his time with an Irwin at the Australia Zoo. Beau’s gaze never left the zookeeper as Robert Irwin continued to tell a story about the koala that clung to him.

Lester peered down at her son and caught him staring, making her chuckle quietly and nudge her husband. She gestured to the boy in her arms as Daniel looked down, now giggling as well. Nobody seemed to have caught the laughter shared between the two but Beau as the one-year-old snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to his mother. 

“Ha un accento diverso, no, il mio piccolo? Diverso come papà?” He’s got a different accent, no, my little one? Different like Daddy’s? Lester asked in a murmur, peppering her son’s face with kisses before she continued to listen to Robert. 

“…And she is extremely clingy. She loves physical affection so would anybody like to come say hi to her?” Robert offered. “Mrs. Ricciardo, perhaps? Would you like to give her some love?” 

Lester giggled, “I’ll watch from afar. I’ve got a koala in here myself!” Everybody laughed at the joke, grinning at the boy who continued to attach himself to Lester. “He’s quite clingy as well, too. Much like his Daddy, right, piccolino?” 

Beau’s curious eyes eventually led him to reach out to the koala, slightly pulling himself away from Lester as his fingers managed to reach for the fur of the animal. Sadly, his biggest enemy right now was the ground that was waiting for him to fall and Lester’s arms that kept him in one place. 

He grunted and squirmed in Lester’s arms. Beau’s curious expression turned sour before he exclaimed in frustration, “Ma!” 

“No need to get angry, lad,” Daniel’s typical happy voice dropped an octave, his fatherly voice correcting his son’s behaviour. But Lester’s slight smile had him laughing quietly; they both couldn’t help that Beau’s struggle was adorable. 

“Oh, d’ya wanna hold her… I’m sorry, what's his name?” Robert asked the people around him before repeating their answer, “Beau? D’ya want to say hi? C’mon, then lad. Would anybody like to hold Lily to get her close to Beau?” 

“I’ll do it,” Daniel volunteered, finding himself grinning at the mammal in his arms as the koala was shifted from Robert’s hold to his. 

A photographer, one that was hired for Ricciardo's private zoo trip, had angled to take photos of Daniel and the koala. He then shifted around to take some photos of Beau as the toddler cautiously approached the animal. 

When his tiny hand started to caress the fur of the animal, the koala had then nuzzled her face to his hand with a content expression.

Beau looked up to his mother with an amazed look, his mouth forming an ‘O’ shape before turning to his father who, too, shared the same surprised look as him. 

Daniel then asked, “What do you think, Beau-Bear?” 

Beau turned back to his mother and then his relatives before giggling, patting the koala on the head once more as he grinned endlessly. Lester could really die at the sight of Beau and Daniel smiling.

So much like his father, indeed.

“Beau, Beau— look at Daddy,” the boy glanced at his father before giggling hysterically, hiding at his mother’s chest as Daniel pulled a goofy face. 

“A giggly one, ain’t ya?” Lando grinned at Beau, reaching out to Beau and tickling the boy lightly. 

“His dad is literally the colour yellow,” Lester’s sister, Nicola, laughed quietly. “Go figures, Lando.” 

Lester continued to wrap her arms around the boy as Beau nuzzled closer, her tattooed hand reaching out to massage his dark curls as his face contently cuddled against her skin. 

“Look at ���im,” Daniel cooed quietly, reaching out to rub Beau’s back. “Such a momma’s boy, ain’t you, mate?” 

“All he wants is cuddle,” Lester rolled her eyes playfully, her wedding band glimmering under the sun as she continued to play with Beau’s hair. “Cuddle from me. Sound familiar?” 

“Oh, hundred percent,” Daniel joked, “that’s all his Daddy, a’ight. You’re also Daddy’s son, aren’t you?” 

Beau ignored everyone, only cuddling with Lester as he quietly rested on her lap. 

“And now he’s ignoring everyone, too— a true Ricciardo, is what he is,” Lando giggled, poking Beau lightly on the side. “Little par, are you becoming like Daddy? You clingy boy.” 

Beau sat straight for a moment, offering his godfather a scowl before resting back on Lester’s chest. 

The couple gave each other a look before laughing quietly. 

“That was a very Daniel thing for him to do,” Lester grinned. “Look at you and act so cranky? Oh my~”

“He’s so mean when he’s sleepy,” Lando’s mouth gaped open, looking at Nicola with bewilderment.

“Oh now that’s his Mum,” Daniel laughed, “you should see ‘er when she wants to stay in bed.” 

“Yeah but out of all the things he could’ve gotten from me, that shouldn’t be one of them,” Lester huffed quietly, nuzzling Beau closer. Then she spoke to her baby, “Bambino— Beau, vuoi vedere un canguro o un orso?” Do you want to see a kangaroo or a bear? She asked, making the boy look at her with a curious expression as he tilted his head. 

Lester sighed. Right, she thought, she hadn’t taught him Italian just yet. 

Nicola, Beau’s aunt and Lester’s youngest sister, repeated the question for the boy, “Which one do you want to see? Kangaroos or bears?”

Beau babbled, making the adults nod. They didn’t really know what he was saying, yet they nodded as if they knew what he wanted. 

“So, see some joeys then?” 

“Mm- no,” Beau said, his partial Italian accent thickening for a brief moment after hearing his aunt speak in that accent. Both Daniel and Lester knew that even if he was to grow up in Australia, Beau was going to have an Italian accent. After all, his Mama’s accent was as thick as it could be and she had family and friends from Italy. 

But Lando couldn’t help but laugh at the accent that escaped Beau’s mouth as he grinned playfully at the boy, “No? What a cute little accent you have, little par. Oh my god~”

“Alright we get it, he’s Italian,” Daniel rolled his eyes.

“No! But did you not hear him say ‘no’ like that before?” Lando almost fell over laughing, not even noticing the toddler as Beau scowled at his godfather. 

Beau’s reactions, despite being a little sunshine like his Daddy Daniel, were copies of Lester’s usual annoyed expression. 

Daniel first made this joke when Beau’s uncle Mateo met him for the first time— when Beau unwittingly scowled when Mateo spoke to him in Italian about moving the baby to Italy with him. 

Nobody gets this reaction from Beau Ricciardo most of the time. Unless, of course, they happened to be his Uncles Scott, Lando and Mateo. And of course, unless they happened to be Beau’s grandfathers Joe and Giacomo. Oh, and Daniel’s nephew Isaac was another usual victim of the ‘Lester stink eye’ despite hanging around most of the time. 

“Stop making fun of the lad, Lando,” Daniel cackled, “look at ‘im, he literally hates you right now.” 

Then Beau added, “Mmm— ba!”

“Argumentative point, Beau, but I’ll take it,” Lando stopped laughing and wiped his tear away. “Fine, I’m sorry for teasing ya, little par.”

“Mm- blav- do~“ Beau continued to frown. 

Lester and Daniel could cry at the sight of their little man. He was the cutest thing to have ever existed. They wouldn’t trade him for the world. 

But Lester was more in love than Daniel was. After all, Beau Lauda Ricciardo was his dad’s little carbon copy.

From the dark curls, dark eyes and cheeky grin— it was safe to say that Beau was Daniel’s little boy indeed. Not even her signature annoyed look could stop her from thinking that her son was, too, an epitome of sunshine and the colour yellow.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen

[raphael-angele]

If Hades raised Nico and Bianca Part 39 (Feat Lil Duckies)

Based on this Crying-Screaming Post

POV: Hades, Bianca, and Nico are visiting Persephone on Earth cuz she's not due back yet.

Persephone: Alright, piccoli, time to go back now.

Bianca and Nico: Aww :c

Bianca: But we wanna stay

Persephone: I know, little doe, but your papa will be lonely down there.

Bianca: mmm, okay :(

Hades: C'mon, children. *notices* Nico...what is that?

Nico: What?

Hades: What are you hiding in your jacket?

Nico: ...nothing?

Inside Nico's jacket: Quack

Everyone: ...

Nico: *to inside his jacket* Shh, Quacky, be quiet.

Baby Duck: *pops out of Nico's jacket*

Hades, kneeling: Nico, you have to give him back

Nico: B-but, I wanna keep him! He-He's really nice and he follows me around.

Hades: Okay, but Bambino, you can't keep him. You can't take him to the Underworld.

Nico: Why not? :c I can take care of him! I'll give him food, and let him play around the castle, and there's a pond in Mammina's garden so he can take a bath there! *starts to cry*

Hades: *sighs* Nico, he'll be lonely down there.

Nico, crying: No, he wont! He'll have me, and Bia, and Zaggy, and Meli, and you, and- and-

Hades: Nico, he wont have his brothers and sisters there or his mom. And he'll be very sad.

Nico: but-

Hades: Wouldn't you be sad if someone took you away from me and your mammina and Bianca?

Nico: *sobbing before walking over to the pond then lets Wucky out of his jacket*

Quacky: *goes back to the pond*

Nico: *waving* Bye, Quacky.

Quacky: Quack *swims away*

Nico: *cries*

Persephone: *sighs and picks him up* It's okay, Nico. I'll look after him. *hands him over to Hades* Here.

Hades: *takes Nico* Thank you, my love.

Nico: *crying into Hades' shoulder, cling onto him* It's not fair...

Hades: ...I know, Nico.

[rokishimizu4]

Martian Manhunter babysits some kidnapped children (but not really)

(I’ve decided that I’m gonna be finishing these headcannons and then work on my BatFam story. I have figured everything else out, surprisingly since I took Sudafed for my cold and now I’m wired as fuck)

To say that nothing surprised J’onn anymore since his time on Earth, it would be a lie and a joke that he would not find funny at all.

Honestly, he has no idea how he found the villains before anyone else. Though the slight smell of chocolate might of helped, that again the thoughts of the re-kidnapped children.

”Si, bella. Your papi is going to be fine. Our little mother hen can fix anything.” A strange male voice is what J’onn follows (invisible to the naked eye) until he reaches a nice (for Gotham) two story sweet shop with a small crew of Hispanic and Italian women and men working around the strange group, that certainly doesn’t belong there.

J’onn floats to the second floor and comes face to face with a goopy child?, that was slowly eating a plate of chocolate chip cookies. The thing freezes mid bite and stares at J’onn for a few seconds, before motioning to the others in the small room.

”Ah, come in ospite maschio (Male guest?)” I was just telling the little bambino that our mother hen is fixing up their papa as we speak and then they can answer your questions.” A man dressed in a black suit and pants gives J’onn a fanged smile, and J’onn becomes interested in how they knew he was coming.

But his attention switches to the situation at hand as the two children, twins-one boy and one girl, rush over to him (which he just noticed that he became visible without him noticing) and look up at him with sparkles in their brown eyes.

”You’re the Manhunter! You’re our favorite superhero!! Daddy says that he meet you once when he was rushing to the hospital cause our mama was having us!” The twins throw up their hands in excitement, and J’onn has a small realization that this is what Superman, Wonder Woman, and Flash must feel every time someone asks for an autograph or a picture.

J’onn keeps his eyes on the twins while his mind focuses on the situation at hand, but he can find no malicious thoughts or auras around these strange villains. Two of which returns with some plates full of different tacos, chips, dips, and sweets.

J’onn only steps away for a brief moment to inform the JL that he has found the kidnapped father and twins, and that he has the situation under control, even allowing the kids to talk over the coms to Superman and Wonderwoman. (Both of which shows up a few moments later, and informs J’onn that Batman and Green Arrow are taking over the case with the woman)

Wonder Woman can only get the children to grab onto her lasso of truth, as everyone else leaves the room to give them privacy, and learns that the twins father managed to get into contact with ‘Copper Spider’, the ‘mother hen of the group’, to rescue them from the bad woman.

The children tell her that their daddy promised that if anything happened to him, that they would need to trust a man of ice and a red wolf and follow them.

She tries to get more out of the children, but they can’t give her anything else, and soon J’onn and Superman return with the twin’s father, safe but a bit dehydrated (and no longer wanting to drink anything alcoholic again).

All three Superheroes tries to find the ‘Villain’ group, or anyone else in the shop, only to realize that it was completely abandoned and the ‘people’ were only an illusion.

The Superheroes and small family quickly return to Gotham, checks the father into a hospital (Paid for by Bruce Wayne of course) and J’onn sets out to be the twin’s babysitter until their father fully recovers.

He gives the Gotham City police his statement, but he does not need his powers to know that the cops are likely not to press charges. And if they did, they would have the JL to answer to.

[serene-sun]

𝕻𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚!

Pairing: ghouls & a baby ghoul, lowkey sodia, Swiss is so dad

Summary: after a great show, the ghouls make a haunting discovery

A/N: I told my fiancé I was pregnant during Mary on a cross and he flipped, also was bawling tears when they left the stage!! So here is a comfort thing I wrote to distract me from the concert blues.

Swiss yawned and stretched his back, he walked down the ramp from the once shiny and lit up stage.

“I could use a nap.” He said groggy, his vocal cords holding and letting go of his voice.

“Im so hungry.” Cumulus whined, following the ghoul as she fumbled with the button that kept her uniform closed around her neck.

“Im damn thirsty.” Mountain said, slouched over as he grew more and more exhausted. He felt his arms limp, and his ankle hurt.

“That was a great show!” Sodo said, rolling into the ghoulish pack with a confident smile. “I think each time we play here, I wanna come back.” He added, his eyes lit a flame.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Nashville, but sometimes all of the noise from broad street is too loud.” Aurora said, catching up with them as her and rain covered their sensitive ears.

Rain winced in agreement as he hung with Aurora, phantom and cirrus.

“Wait.” Swiss said, his lead off the line coming to a hult as they approached the dressing room hall. “Do you guys hear that?”

“What is it now? It’s probably them blasting Johnny cash or something down the street.” Aurora rolled her eyes, but she quickly turned to Swiss as she heard the noise too.

“No. No no, that’s not music. That’s a whimper.” Swiss said, investigating with his pointed ears and pin point eye sight.

“Hm? It’s probably the meet and greet.” Mountain replied, looking at Swiss.

“No, that was after their set.” Swiss walked towards a corner of the venue, he came to a tall black curtain and hesitantly pulled it back.

“Uh-“ Swiss was at a loss of words as he saw what muffled crying was behind the curtain.

The rest of the ghouls followed in curiosity, only to be the same as Swiss with their jaws low and eyes wide.

“Uhm…how.” Cumulus tried to reason, as she looked at the frail kit curled up into his knees with hot wet streaks running down their cheeks.

“I’ll….I’ll get papa.” Cirrus volunteered and ran off as the rest of the ghouls ushered the kit to the dressing room.

“Are you alright? How did you get here?” Swiss asked, setting them into the vanity and kneeling down to seem less threatening in size. His eyes soft and his hair damp in sweat, “can you understand me?”

“What do you last remember?” Rain joined in before the door slammed open to reveal a confused papa.

“What? What’s going on?? What’s this about?” Papa copia pushed through the crowd of ghoul frustratingly.

He came to a point of no return when he was met eye to eye with little ghoul.

He had only been in a baggy tour shirt, the one with papas face menacingly staring at the earth as lightning struck the cities they played at. It covered the ghoul like a dress, and he had dark fuzzy black hair and pointy ears. His claws were so sharp they dug into the metal vanity and left marks.

“Oh dear.” Copia sighed, his tense position lessened as he kneeled down with Swiss. “You aren’t supposed to be here, are you.”

The little ghoul stared at him, his eyes unable to close and reopen as he sat so still you would think he was a statue.

Copia brought a hand to his head, but he heard a loud hiss and a sharp sensation at his hand as he noticed the leather of his glove clean slit like a fine blade. Copia looked at his eyes, slit pupils, wide eyes, long eye lashes, and he felt blood drip from his hand.

“Oh this just won’t do now will it?” Copia muttered, looking at his hand, “seems to be he was summoned.”

Sodo rushed to papas bloody hand, he held it and looked at him with concern, “Cardi, your hand.” He worried.

“Don’t worry about me, what matters is how and who summoned this poor bambino.” Copia softly smiled at the fire ghoul.

“Do you think…mm no.” Aurora held her chin, as so did rain and Swiss.

“The perpetrator knew it happened, they left him and clothed.” Copia took his glove off and pressed on his growing wound as sodo held his arm carefully.

“Do you, do you have a home little one?” Copia asked, bravely kneeling to the child again.

The kiddo looked him in the eyes as his chest heaved, “papa.” The kit whispered.

“Eh, yes I am papa.” Copia pointed at his chest, “you?” He then pointed to the kit.

The child’s eyes watched copias carefully, “star.” He slithered his name past his fangs.

“Home?” Copia asked, planting his knees on the dressing room floor.

“Dark, red…hot.” The ghoul frowned, “cold.”

“You want to go home?” Copia asked, “go home?”

The kit nodded eagerly.

“Alright, we will need to send him back to the pit.” Copia stood up and sighed.

The ghouls groaned in unison, “no!”

Copia looked around confused, “well what do you suggest we do then Hm?”

The ghouls looked at each other and then at papa, “take him home?” They proposed.

Copia was speechless, “take home a kit??? Mo- sister would kill me!”

Swiss took the kit and held him in his arms as he giggled at being thrown up so high, “we can teach him our ways.” Swiss smiled.

“Wha-“ copia looked at the other ghouls for answers before taking a moment of silence, “no.”

Swiss’s eyebrows furrowed, “what do you mean, no?” He bit.

“His home is In the pit!” Copia exclaimed.

The kit frowned at the loud noises, “home.” He muttered as he held tight to Swiss’s vest.

“Home.” He muffled again against his shoulder, “Swiss.”

The rest of the ghouls looked at papa with a silent smirk.

Papa looked around the ghouls, huffed, and looked at Swiss as he smiled in victory.

“Home it is.”