If Graves’ mother is Carlotta de Lucci (which she is) and Carlotta de Lucci is Italian (which she also is) then Graves is half Italian. Consider then the following:
A Graves whose dancing is technically perfect but a bit stiff when he’s sober, but who pulls out a full on Argentine tango and follows it with a cha cha when he’s drunk and dear god man, those hips, are they even attached to his spine because jesus christ
A Graves who is absolutely one hundred percent a mother’s boy and still goes home for Sunday Dinner because his mum’s cooking is the best, ok, the actual best, why would he ever miss this
A Graves who grew up with a thorough appreciation of everything on two legs and to whom the concept of ‘gay’ or ‘straight’ didn’t occur until fifth year at Ilvermorny when someone asked him why he flirted with guys as well as girls. He owled his mother to ask and she sent back a howler that went off at breakfast and, in a loud and carrying voice, informed the entire hall that he had “too much love to restrict yourself like this, these Americans, they don’t understand a truly passionate man” at which point Graves set the table on fire and bolted
A Graves who was sat down and taught all the family recipes, because what if he finds himself a husband, he’ll need to feed his husband won’t he? And what if he finds himself a wife, he’ll need to show her what real cooking is so that she can feed him, won’t he?
A Graves who asks “But what if I want to feed my wife or my husband wants to feed me?” to which his mother hits him with a wooden spoon and tells him that either way, he still needs to learn to cook and he does that by not burning the garlic
A Graves who learns Queenie Goldstein is a legilimens and begins thinking in rapid fire Italian only.
A Graves who is so used to switching to Italian when Queenie is around that sometimes he forgets which language he’s using and starts speaking Italian as well. Queenie translates for people. She also smiles and assures Graves that of course she can’t understand his thoughts, the accent throws her, and besides she only speaks a very little bit of Italian. Graves would believe her more if she didn’t tell him all of this in flawless Italian and resolves to brush up on his occlumency shields.
A Graves who falls hard and fast for Newt but is worried about scaring the shy man away, so tries to restrain himself. He tries. He’s just a tactile kind of person, and Newt looks so fabulously touchable, and Graves ends up sitting on his hands to stop himself pulling Newt into a hug or a casual one-armed embrace or tuck his hair behind his ear or anything. He calls Newt tesoro mio in his head and flaps Queenie away when she coos at them both.
“You don’t have to be so cautious, you know,” Queenie tells him. “He won’t tell you himself, but he wouldn’t mind it if you hugged him.”
Graves suddenly finding every excuse to put his arm around Newt or lean against him or grab his hand to show him something and conveniently forget to let go.
Graves’ brain stuttering to halt when Newt kisses him and leaving Graves staring in open mouthed wonder.
Graves panicking when Newt asks if he’s ok and blurting out the first thing that comes to mind: “Sposami.”
Graves going bright red and refusing to tell Newt what it means. Newt’s got that stubborn look though, so Graves kisses him until he’s thoroughly distracted.
Graves taking that almighty step and bringing Newt home to meet his mother.
Carlotta declaring that “the boy is far too quiet, and why is he so thin, hmm? Do you not feed him? I raised you better than this bambino, you should be ashamed of yourself. Don’t just stand there! Get him a glass of wine, go, go! And you, sit. Has he asked you to marry him yet.”
Faint protests of “Mama!” coming from the kitchen, followed by Graves’ dad telling him not that wine, your mother’s decided it’s pig-swill.
Newt ducking his head and shyly admitting that Graves did, but he wasn’t sure Graves meant to because Newt had to ask Queenie to translate it later.
“Well? What did you say?”
“MAMA YOU CAN’T JUST ASK HIM THAT!”
“I can ask your husband whatever I like! And you. Don’t mumble. Did you say yes?”
Graves diving back onto the scene with wine as though that will save Newt from the force of nature that is his mother.
Newt’s mumbles are positive enough to satisfy Carlotta, and she’s already tapped his hand with her wand to measure the size of his ring finger.
“You don’t eat enough,” she informs him, and tugs the family fede ring off her own finger. “Percival, come here and give him his ring. His fingers are too thin, it doesn’t need resizing.”
Graves completely poleaxed.
Staring at Newt with a bottle of wine in one hand and a ring in the other.
His mother has just bullied Newt into agreeing to be married.
What if Newt doesn’t want to be married.
Newt gently taking the wine from him and putting it on a side table. Smiles at Graves and kisses him on the nose.
Newt goes down on one knee and asks, in the most atrocious Italian accent ever spoken but in actual honest to god Italian which means he looked it up and learnt it which means forethought and planning, “Mi vuoi sposare?”
Graves hiccoughing into a laugh as he slides the ring onto Newt’s finger. He’s not sure what language he says yes in so he says it again in English and Italian and hell, he even says it in French and German and Greek just to cover all bases
Carlotta making sure the whole thing gets recorded on camera
Graves fire-calling Queenie later because he can’t wait until tomorrow to tell people and babbling incoherent happiness in both languages at her until he can’t talk fast enough and he just thinks everything at her instead
Queenie being delighted for both of them and already making plans to get Jacob in on the wedding cake
Everything being fabulous
And Graves can’t stop smiling
Sticking to Newt like a bowtruckle with attachment issues
Sei il sole della mia vita.
