SUMMARY: Moonstone jewelry. Enchanted snow. Slow dancing beneath floating candles. For one night, Theodore Nott let himself believe peace could exist.
Based off of this request.
The sun had just slipped below the horizon, painting the Black Lake in deep golds and purples. You were walking with Theodore Nott along the quiet shore. He was holding a basket of food with a blanket inside.
This wasn’t unusual — Theo often stole you away for quiet dates like this.
He found the perfect spot beneath an old willow tree, its branches draping gracefully over the water. He laid out the blanket and unpacked the food — your favorite honey cakes, fresh strawberries, warm pumpkin pasties, and a bottle of sparkling elderflower wine.
You sat between his legs, your back against his chest as you both ate and talked softly about everything and nothing. Theo’s chin rested on your shoulder, his fingers occasionally tracing patterns on your arm.
After a while, he reached into the basket and pulled out a small velvet box.
“I got you something,” he murmured, voice low and calm like always.
You turned slightly in his arms.
He opened the box to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a beautiful teardrop moonstone pendant, accompanied by a pair of matching earrings. The stones shimmered with soft, ethereal light.
“Theo…” you breathed, eyes widening.
He carefully fastened the necklace around your neck, then watched as you put on the earrings. His grey-blue eyes softened as he took you in.
“Bellissimo,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You leaned back into him, admiring how the moonstone caught the last light of the sunset.
After a few peaceful moments, Theo spoke again, his voice steady but quieter than usual.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
You tilted your head back to look at him. “What is it?”
He met your eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in that rare, gentle way he only showed you. He looked unusually careful for a moment, like he’d rehearsed the question in his head already.
“Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”
Your heart fluttered. Even though you’d been together for months, the way he asked — intentional, thoughtful, and completely focused on you — made you feel all warm inside.
“Yes,” you whispered, smiling brightly. “Of course I will.”
Theo’s eyes warmed. He leaned down and kissed you slowly, one hand cupping your cheek as the stars began to appear above you.
On the night of the Yule Ball, when Theo saw you descending the stairs into the Great Hall, he forgot how to breathe for a second.
Theo had seen beautiful girls before. He’d danced with them, kissed them, watched them flirt with him across crowded rooms.
But nothing — absolutely nothing — prepared him for you.
Your dress was stunning — a deep midnight blue that flowed like liquid starlight, with delicate silver embroidery that shimmered when you moved. Your hair was styled in soft waves with small crystal pins, and the moonstone necklace and earrings he’d given you glowed beautifully against your skin.
Theo stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs in elegant black dress robes, his tie a perfect match to the deep blue of your gown. His usual messy waves were tamed just enough, but a few strands still fell across his forehead.
When you reached him, he took your hand and slowly lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
“You look…” He paused, swallowing as his eyes traced over you. “There aren’t enough words." He decided. "You’re breathtaking.”
A sweet smile spread across your face. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Theo.”
He offered you his arm, and the two of you walked into the transformed Great Hall together. Floating candles and enchanted snow drifted gently from the ceiling. The music was soft and elegant as couples danced across the floor.
Theo kept you close the entire night. And the two of you spent most of the evening swaying together beneath the floating candles, your head resting against his chest while his hand stayed firm against your lower back.
At one point, he leaned down, lips brushing your ear.
“I’m glad you said yes,” he said. “Didn’t want to watch you dance with anyone else.”
You pulled back slightly to look at him, amused. “You know I only want to dance with you.”
His eyes softened, and he kissed you right there — slow and deep, completely unbothered by the hundreds of people around you.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.
You brushed your thumb across his cheek. “You deserve everything good, Theo.” He looked at you like he didn’t quite know what to do with words that gentle.
Then Theo smiled — small, rare, and only for you — before pulling you closer again as the music continued to play.
Under the floating candles and enchanted snow, with his arms around you and the moonstone he gave you resting against your heart, the night felt like something out of a dream.
And Theodore Nott, for once, felt completely at peace.
where the media finds out that luci is adopted… but does it really matter?
face claim: deva cassel & pinterest girls
pairing: kimi antonelli x oc luci
(a/n: thanks for the dump kimi, i didn’t know what to do with myself anymore 😅😅
a bit short but i decided to post it anyway, sorry about that)
[ʚɞ masterlist]
eurocelebsdaily made a post
liked by user, user, user and 405K others
eurocelebsdaily isabella vega’s daughter luciana d'alessandro is adopted… and the story behind it is gaining attention 👀
according to reports, luci was adopted as a newborn after being abandoned at a hospital and later sent to an orphanage
for years, many believed the actress had simply kept her pregnancy private, but it turns out the story is very different.
view all the comments
user this is actually crazy
user being adopted by THAT family… talk about luck
user ok but she still looks so much like isabella
↝ user same energy, same aura
↝ user she raised luci to be just like her
user this changes nothing
user she was literally abandoned as a baby… maybe have some empathy
user this feels like something that shouldn’t even be public
user so the younger sister is the only biological one?
↝ user apparently
gridgirlsunfiltered made a post
liked by user, user, user and 50K others
gridgirlsunfiltered family is family… right? 💭
view all the comments
user kimi really fell for THIS ♥︎ by gridgirlsunfiltered
user y’all never liked her let’s be honest
user what does her adoption have to do with anything??
↝ user literally nothing
↝ user this page only posts hateful comments about luci, it's no surprise they make fun of the fact that she's adopted
user the obsession is getting weird
user idk… everything about her feels curated ♥︎ by gridgirlsunfiltered
user disgusting disgusting disgusting disgusting
user making fun of adoption?? really??
user i said it before and i’ll say it again… not a fan
↝ user chill girl, kimi's never going to date you
lukimi.lover made a post
liked by kimi.antonelli, user, user and 114K others
lukimi.lover some of you need to remember: luci is a real person
this crossed a line!!
view all the comments
user this whole thing got weird really fast
user i’m not even a fan of her but that post was unnecessary
↝ user congratulations you have a brain
user you don’t have to like her to respect basic boundaries
user people acting like adoption is something to drag her for… insane
↝ user actually embarrassing
user kimi liked this post btw 👀
↝ user love him
↝ user loudest thing he could do
user just wait for the chaos on twitter because of this like of his
eurocelebsdaily made a post
liked by user, user user and 760K others
eurocelebsdaily isabella vega has reportedly taken legal action
the actress has filed lawsuits against the newspaper that exposed details about her daughter’s adoption, as well as the hospital accused of leaking private information
according to sources, the case centers on violations of privacy and confidentiality
view all the comments
user as she should
user the hospital leaking info is insane
user finally some consequences
↝ user people thought they could just say anything
user watch people switch sides now
↝ user already happening
↝ user in a minute that one will show up saying she was misunderstood
user she’s a lion when it comes to her kids
↝ user perfect way to describe it
user she raised both of her daughters with so much care
user i’m glad she didn’t stay silent
kimi.antonelli made a post
liked by mercedesamgf1, georgerussell63 and 143K others
kimi.antonelli impossibile mancare 🇮🇹❤️
thank you @/fiawec_official for the hospitality, what an amazing day 🙌
view all the comments
user soooo proud of youuuu
user 😍😍😍
user that’s such a cool moment
user lowkey expected luci in the comments…
↝ user yeah same
↝ user she’s probably just offline
↝ user give her a break, things have been messy
user soo cuteee can't wait until miami
user bellissimo kimi (so beautiful kimi)
user let’s not make everything about her guys
user love seeing him involved in different things
user okay sir, I love this shirt
↝ user fr 😭
̣̣̣︶ ྀི⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ིιྀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ྀᖭ༏ᖫི
divider by @dollywons
would you like oc's for other drivers?
yes
no
Voting ended onApr 24
if you have any suggestions, feel free to comment or send an ask, i’d be happy to make it happen 😊
彡CONTAINS ; kimi antonelli, charles leclerc, franco colapinto, isack hadjar, gabriel bortoleto
彡WARNINGS ; fluff
彡REQUESTED? ; No~ (requests are open!)
彡WORDS ; 1,1k
彡DISCLAIMER ; Everything written here is FICTITIOUS.
彡AUTHOR'S NOTE ; sorry if here are any mistakes, english isn't my first language!
⤷Kimi Antonelli
Kimi tries to help you with your Italian.
One night, you’re making pasta together when you try to say something you think sounds right.
“Posso aiutarti a… spaghettiare?”
Kimi looks up, trying not to laugh.
“That’s not a real word,” he says, shaking his head. “But it's a good start”
He’s actually patient when you ask questions or want help. He doesn’t get frustrated if you mess up. He just explains it quietly or repeats it until you get it.
But if you mess up something super simple like "ciao" he won’t let you live it down. You’ll hear him say it back to you ten times a day, always with a small grin.
He really likes it when you try to say sweet things in Italian. When you tell him “sei bellissimo,” he doesn’t say much just smiles and looks at you a little longer than usual. That’s how you know it matters to him.
Sometimes he teaches you with music. He’ll play old Italian love songs while you’re in the kitchen, and he’ll explain the lyrics one line at a time calm. It’s how he shares things with you.
With Kimi, learning Italian isn’t perfect, and it’s not fast. But it’s real. It’s about small moments, shared laughs, and learning by just being together.
⤷Charles Leclerc
Charles tries to help you with your French.
He doesn’t correct you right away when you say something wrong. He lets you finish, then gently repeats it the right way. Never to make fun just to help you hear it.
One morning, you try to ask him if he wants coffee in French.
“Tu vouloir… cafer-rr?”
He laughs under his breath, walks over, and kisses your forehead.
“Nice try. But no, it’s tu veux du café?”
He’s patient. He doesn’t rush you. If you forget a word, he’ll wait until you find it, or quietly give you a hint. And when you get something right, even something small, he gives you this soft, proud smile like he really means it.
He loves hearing you try. Especially when you use words like 'mon cœur' or 'tu me manques'.
Even if your accent’s a little off, he never makes fun of it. He just watches you, quietly happy, like it means more than he says.
Sometimes he teaches you while you're doing regular things grocery shopping, walking through the city, cooking dinner. He’ll point to something and say the word in French, then wait for you to repeat it. No pressure. Just small moments, here and there.
With Charles, learning French feels natural. Not like homework more like being let into his world.
⤷Franco Colapinto
Franco helps you with your Spanish.
Sometimes when you’re out, he’ll stop and point to something:
“That says ‘helado’ It means ice cream.”
Then he nudges you and asks, “How do you say it?”
When you say it a little wrong, he gasps.
“No ice cream for you until you get it right.”
(You get it right fast.)
He teaches you words at random times, when you’re brushing your teeth, walking home, or making dinner. Some words are useful. Some are just slang.
“Che, boludo” he says, shaking his head. “It means like… dude. But don’t say it in front of my grandma.”
(You do. Once. He still laughs about it.)
When you try full sentences, he never interrupts. He lets you finish, even if you make a lot of mistakes. Then he’ll fix one thing just one and say,
“You’re getting better. Really.”
And you believe him, because he only says it when it’s true.
In the mornings, he sends you voice notes sometimes with new words, sometimes just him saying,
“Buenos días, mi amorrr” dragging the “r” to make you smile.
With Franco, learning Spanish feels fun. It’s full of little jokes, small wins, and real moments. You don’t even notice how much you’ve learned until one day he says something fast in Spanish, and you understand all of it.
⤷Isack Hadjar
Isack tries to help you with your French.
One afternoon, you call him 'frère' just for fun, and he smiles softly.
“Frère?” he teases, his eyes lighting up. “Bro? Who taught you that?”
You laugh, shrugging. “From you,” you say, making him smile.
It’s the small moments like this that make him happy knowing you’re paying attention, even when you don’t fully understand him.
He’s patient when you mess up, never rushing you or making you feel bad. He’ll softly repeat words, letting you take your time. But when it comes to bad words, he can’t help himself.
He teaches you a few, like 'merde' or 'putain' and the two of you share quiet laughs when you get them wrong.
“Just don’t say it around my mom,” he says, giving you a playful wink.
There’s something about the way he teaches that makes it feel less like a lesson and more like something you’re sharing together. He gently corrects you, his smile growing softer when you try, and that proud look in his eyes when you finally get it right.
With Isack, learning French is full of warmth, laughter, and easy moments of connection. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being close, sharing something special, and enjoying each step of the journey together.
⤷Gabriel Bortoleto
Gabriel tries to help you with your Portuguese.
One night, during a late FaceTime, he’s clearly half-asleep but still insists on giving you a word of the day.
“Hoje… the word is saudade.”
You pause, trying to figure it out. “That’s a hard one.”
He smiles, his voice soft. “It means ‘I miss you.’ A lot.”
You repeat the word, and it feels like something deeper, something just for the two of you.
He enjoys teaching you words that carry weight, like 'cafuné' (the act of running fingers through someone’s hair). When you trip over the pronunciation, he gently corrects you, never rushing you.
“Try again, meu bem.” And when you finally say it right, he grins, looking proud.
Sometimes, he sends you playlists filled with Brazilian songs and quizzes you on the lyrics. When you get one right, he rewards you with a sweet kiss on the forehead.
“You're getting better,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat.
He calls you 'meu bem' so often, and before long, you start saying it back to him. Every time, it melts his heart just a little more.
“You said it just right,” he whispers, his voice full of warmth and affection.
With Gabriel, learning Portuguese isn’t about perfection, it’s about sharing little moments, laughing together, and making memories that go beyond the words themselves.
✿彡did you enjoy this? comments, likes, and reblogs are immensely appreciatedミ✿
i just watched yellowstone and the only i could think off was rancher max lol
i was hoping we could see more of him?
thank for always making my day with your drabbles!
(Also!! CL16 victory at Silverstone?? Charles!!! 😭😭😭 I've been out all weekend and haven't gotten a chance to watch the full race yet but from what everyone's said, it was bellissimo 😘 welcome back to the top step, king ♥️)
Hi Anons 🤠
Rancher!Max x Stripper!Charles AU: Part 1, Part 2
Yeehaw Max lmaooo bless you for coming up with this, Anon!! 😂😂
Previously:
"Can I explain some things while we drive?" He asks after Charles unlocks the passenger side door.
A pause.
And then, as Charles starts the engine, he says, very quietly: "I will give you seven minutes before I turn on the radio."
Max nods, watching as Charles pulls out of the paved parking lot and onto the empty road. Overhead, the stars shine brighter and Max feels, for the first time, the smallest bit of hope bloom in his chest.
The drive is silent aside from the sounds of the desert night, the soft billow of languid summer air and the even glide of the asphalt as they drive to Charles's small apartment in the city. Max wants so badly to reach over, to hold his darling boy's hand as they drive. The indigo night reflects a sea of stars that never fails to take his breath away as they drive towards a more derelict part of town, away from the super stores and bars.
Charles clutches at the steering wheel, jade eyes fixed on the road.
Dried tear tracks staining his cheeks and marring his once perfect makeup.
I did that, Max thinks, I hurt him. I hurt my Charlie.
His old, worn down heart compresses inward, almost choking the old rancher with the weight of guilt and grief. "I've always wanted a big family." He begins, unsure where to start but knowing if he doesn't speak now, Charles will be lost to him forever. "But I've always known the weight of legacy that's followed me around since the day I was born. The Verstappen ranching conglomerate is a multimillion dollar business that keeps growing—and it requires two people to lead it forward. Before me, it was my dad and his business partner. My grandfather and his business partner. So on and so forth. But I'm...well, my father would call be a hopeless idiot. My sister thinks it's romantic." He lets out a sardonic chuckle. "When I was a boy, I dreamed of happily ever afters. Of finding someone to love and cherish. A partner not just in love but in life."
Max never looks away from Charles, from the outline of his profile against the backdrop of the Texas night. He sees the way his pink lips part, the softest little gasp leaving them when he hears Max's words.
A partner not just in love, but in life.
"But you were afraid." His Charlie spits out. "You never took a chance."
"I took too many chances." Max doesn't hesitate to offer up his heart, to let Charles examine the cuts and wounds and decide for himself if it's anything worth keeping. "I fell for the wrong Omega again and again. So many of them don't realize what it takes to run a ranch this size. It's not about derbys and parties and fine clothes. It's about accounting, agriculture, business associations, animal husbandry, and a whole lot of other work that made all everyone of them squeal and turn their heads away. The work is tiring, the days are long, but I thought if we loved each other enough, we could build something well worth having." Max's hand aches to cup Charles's cheek, to have this young slip of an Omega see that the Alpha he's been sleeping with is nothing more than a tired, sad man who still hoped for love.
"Then you were s-stupid to go after all those debutantes." Charles pulls up to a small, well-maintained building on the far side town. He kills the engine but keeps both hands on the steering wheel, gaze forward. "You should have looked elsewhere. At other ranching families or people who knew more than how to curtsey and smile and say pretty things."
"I know. I know that now, Charlie. I was young and ignorant and—"
"You wanted something worthy. Someone who could stand by your side and not shame you." A lone teardrop rolls down his cheek. "Why would a used up stripper ever cross your mind?"
The self-hatred and hurt resonating through that lovely, soft accent crushes Max. The old, grizzled rancher who kept to himself and barely flinched after 12 hours herding cattle under the boiling hot sun.
He dares to place his large, veiny hand (covered in old scars and weatherbeaten from his decades ranching) atop Charles's smaller, delicate hand.
The Omega blinks rapidly, more tears dripping down his chin and staining his leather mini skirt.
Max doesn't dare to look away. "You're worth more than I can give you, Charles. Would you truly settle for a life with me on a ranch far away from the city, where I would be your only company? A life where I never left you alone because I...I want you, Charles. I want you in ways I shouldn't. Not just because you're beautiful and witty and clever but because...I want to build the rest of my life with you. However long that is."
"There you go again." His breath hitches. "Saying awful things about yourself. Well, you don't get to dictate how I feel." He finally turns, wet doe eyes piercing through Max. "And you don't get to tell me what I deserve. I haven't been able to make decisions for myself for a very, very long time. And you will sit here and let me choose." He glares at Max, as if expecting the old Alpha to challenge him.
But Max has met his match. Fiery, intelligent, and holding a past that he yearns to know more about.
"I'm sorry for how I've treated you, schat. For the way I've behaved and the things I allowed to fester." His hand moves, daring to wipe away the wet tears on his cheekbone. "The choice is yours, Charlie. It's always been yours. I just hope you know that once that choice is made, I won't be able to let go. You'll have me as your shadow until you decide to kick me the curb. I'm a stubborn man." He smiles wryly.
His beautiful boy rolls his eyes. "Yes, you are. Stubborn and dense and lovely."
"You sound like you're describing sourdough bread."
"You're not funny." He scoffs, even as the corner of his mouth twitches.
"I know." The wryness from his smile fades away, leaving only a soft, tentative expression that Charles only ever caught glimpses of after their nights together—before Max turned away and tried to pretend like he hadn't just worshipped Charles like the Omega was something precious. "I've ah, I've been out of the game for a while so I hope you'll forgive me for this."
Charles frowns when Max leans away for a moment, one hand reaching for something on his inside jacket pocket.
A white gardenia, slightly crumpled, but fresh and in full bloom.
"I was going to give it to you tonight. As part of a larger bouquet before the...incident."
"Before you beat a man blue for daring to besmirch my honor?" He tries to sound flippant and uncaring but the thing is—
Charles is very, very well-versed on the language of flowers.
And a white gardenia...
Unspoken love.
Admiration and deep affection.
Hope and new beginnings.
Charles's heart almost leaps out of its chest when Max very carefully loops the white gardenia against his gold bangle, carefully tying the stem until it looks like a corsage.
The kind that used to be given on prom nights.
His strong, imposing Alpha gently strokes the back of Charles's hand before looking up, cheeks a little pink but his eyes are blue and clear and intense. "Will you allow me to take you on a date, Charlie? A real date, schatje. Where you'll get all dolled up and I'll trip over my words and tell you I hope this date is the first of a million dates. Just me and you."
"What about that big family you always wanted? Or do you not want that with a stripper like me?"
Max clicks his tongue, giving a soft shake of his head. "You don't like it when I call myself old, and I don't like it when you talk down about yourself. And..." Charles watches as the tips of his ears burn red, as if Max were fighting to keep a full blush at bay. "If you think I haven't dreamed about pups with you then you'd be dead wrong, Charlie."
"I don't like being wrong." He leans forward, the sparkly eyeshadow he put on earlier still shimmering beneath the light of the stars. "But let's just see how the first date goes. You hurt me Max."
"I know."
"So you'll have to be patient now." He kisses the bridge of Max's nose. Strong. Regal.
The kind of nose Charles hopes their babies inherit.
The Alpha doesn't seem bothered by Charles's demand. Instead, the slightly stoic expression Max sometimes wears is nowhere in sight.
"I think you're my forever, Charlie." He smiles. "And I'll wait as long as you need."
🏜🐎💃🤠 🏜🐎💃🤠
The entire vibe of this AU is:
Charles: I'm not like the other Omegas.
Max: Hmm...
Charles: Knows agriculture, business management, livestock ranching, veterinary sciences, can ride stallions, manage vast swaths of land, and can bend his body into an S shape for Max's viewing pleasure.
It's the first post of Pride Month! You know who SHOULDN'T be proud?
Hammer Bro and his ilk, that's who! They should be ASHAMED, because they are emblematic of an issue I have with emblems in Mario spinoffs. Look at his emblem. That's just his head from the side! What's the point of that? His head is already well-represented by virtue of being a prominent part of his actual design, which we are already looking at. That makes this, to me, a bad emblem!
An emblem, generally, to me, should not just be a depiction of the character. It should be some kind of iconography they're known for. In Mario Party 8, Hammer Bro's emblem was a hammer. That's what I mean! That's his thing, and it's not immediately visible in his design. As an Italian chef would say, "Splendid! (but with an Italian accent)"! I can see what they might be going for with the Bros, maybe giving them a more soldier-like aesthetic and emphasizing the helmets, but it is simply boring. Give Hammer Bro a hammer, Fire Bro a fireball, Ice Bro an iceball, and Boomerang Bro a boomerang. As a French chef would say, "Bellissimo!" Now, I want to- hold on, what? That chef is a fraud! Get outta here.
Now, I want to emphasize that a Depiction Emblem, as I'll call them, is not by default a bad thing. Here are some I find quite good, due to how they work with established concepts and imagery! Shy Guy's mask is the core of the character, so it's a good emblem. Dry Bones is a skeleton, and a Skull is basically the mascot of the "Skeletons" franchise, so I'm fine with that. Bowser's stylized face has been representing him and the Koopa Troop as a whole for a LONG time, so it works perfectly for him. Bowser Jr. and the Koopalings follow suit, which makes perfect sense. Toad's icon looks not just like his head, but like a Super Mushroom. And Petey Piranha's is not only simplified, but facing directly upward, in a Piranha Plant's favorite attack pose. These and others all work quite nicely!
Now I'd like to discuss some that work poorly. Some Mario characters who got their picture taken for their karting license, took one look, and thought "yep, that's me. That's what I'm all about." And they're technically not WRONG... but they need to learn about the pizzazz!
WIGGLER
This is one I remember being disappointed by way back in 2012, well before I was the Super Mario Scholar I now fancy myself. On the low 3DS resolution, I initially thought it was a strange flower, but then I realized it's just Wiggler's face! It's cute, but so predictable. Even if there's not specifically a problem with the emblem, I wish there was a little more thought put into choosing it, you know?
For Wiggler, I would suggest a flower! It had a flower emblem in Mario Power Tennis, representing the one on its head, and I think a rare birds-eye view of that flower would be cute. Alternatively, they could do something like Diddy Kong's icon, which is more of a pattern than an individual icon, and make it look like a Wiggler segment. The emblem is already round, and Wiggler's length and segments are one of its major aspects!
MONTY MOLE
I like Monty Mole. I like Monty Mole's face. But again, no pizzazz! Maybe the framing is supposed to evoke Whack-A-Mole, but I think that's a stretch. Monty Mole is never really associated with any props, besides rocks and dirt clumps, but those are not very visually interesting. In this case, I actually think a full-body depiction would be good! Monty Mole's signature pose is the one it does with its arms up while popping out of the ground. Mario Kart knows this well, with it featured in Monty's trick animations, and the arms being present on the Monty Mole Mii costume's helmet. So, for Monty's emblem, I would suggest a depiction or perhaps silhouette of this pose, possibly including the hole beneath, if it's not too cluttered!
KAMEK
This is one that especially bothers me, because I love Kamek so much, and love to play as him! This emblem does immediately strike one as Kamek, yes, but you know by now that I will die without an IV pumping Stylistic Representative Mario Pizzazz into my bloodstream. Kamek ABSOLUTELY has unique imagery associated with him, and by that I mean the shapes seen whenever he uses his magic! Whether on their own, from a wand, in a puff of smoke, or on a full purple background, I think they would make an excellent icon.
These next two will have backgrounds because they're from Mario Party instead of Mario Kart. Sowwy
NINJI
This one seems obvious. Ninji gets a shuriken. It may not have used any in mainline games, but it has in Paper Mario. Easy! But not as easy as the next one!
SPIKE
Spike Pog may be powerful, but it is also a bit baffling. WHY Spike Pog? This is indeed the side profile of Spike as it throws a spike ball. And that is its Iconic Action. So its emblem represents that it throws spike balls... but it shows its face while doing it, rather than the spike ball itself! What the heck!
It was his icon in Mario Golf where he was an NPC. Maybe they thought it looked a little bland? I think they could make it look better. Just so strange!
That's MOST of the characters, this applies to, but there are some I'm just sort of split on: Funky Kong, Nabbit, King Bob-omb, and Poochy. They are all Depictions, but I kind of can't think of anything better for them? Funky's is nicely stylized, Nabbit's is stylized nicely enough, and the other two, I just can't really think of something. King Bob-omb, I think, NEEDS his mustache represented, and Poochy is a bit too weird of a dog to be represented by something like a paw print.
All of this has been my opinion, of course! I would like to hear what YOU think of these emblems, and if YOU think there are better options, and even if YOU think my suggestions for replacement are idiotic poopy garbage! (don't say it like that though please be nice)
Note: I just finished playing the game, and I need more! Flo is so cute. If I can't get more content, I'll have to make it. As always.
—-◇◇◇-—
The sound of the trampoline filled the tent; practicing my acrobatics, even though I was just an assistant, was a daily routine—a necessary training regimen if I were ever to perform like my other, perfect teammates. After a few hours of jumping on the trampoline and swinging on the trapeze in the air, I took a moment to rest, sitting down on one of the seats near the empty audience chairs.
"Bellissimo come sempre... (Beautiful as always…)" A voice startles me. Flo is sitting next to me, clapping softly. I jump when I hear him out of nowhere, but I smile when I see him next to me, holding out a bottle of water for me.
"Thanks, Flo..." I laugh, taking the bottle from his hand, gently brushing his fingers before opening it to quench my thirst, sipping the liquid slowly. "Maybe you'd like to practice with me...?"
"Mi piacerebbe tantissimo... Magari adesso...? Ho un po' di tempo libero... (I'd love to... Maybe right now...? I have some free time...)" Flo seems excited to spend time together, and so am I—I like spending time with Flo; he always cheers me up.
"Do you think you could teach me how to do what you do...? I'm not as flexible as you are... but I'd like to try..." I ask him, really hoping to spend time with him more than anything else.
Flo is silent for a moment, staring at me before nodding and smiling. He stands up and offers me his hand. "Certo... dai... (Sure... come on...)"
I don't hesitate to take his hand and follow him onto the stage. I feel a little nervous, having watched his movements in previous shows; I know just how much he can contort his body. Watching him has always been exciting, mesmerizing in a way, but trying it alongside him is on a whole other level.
I follow his lead, moving my body carefully, doing my best to twist around, and even though I can’t move exactly like Flo, I try anyway, getting scared when I lose my balance, closing my eyes when I think I’m going to hit the ground with a thud—luckily, Flo is faster and catches me.
For a moment, I freeze as I feel his hands on me, helping me stretch while keeping my balance so I don’t fall to the ground. I look at him in silence, without looking away. His touch is always warm and comforting to me, but like this—with our bodies in this position—I can feel him so close that my heart races inside my chest.
“Can I kiss you…?” I murmur without thinking, looking away in embarrassment, feeling my cheeks grow hot. For a second, I think he’s going to pull away, to let go of me, but his grip surprises me as it tightens. “Flo…?”
"Le cose che mi fai... (The things you do to me…)" Flo murmurs in a deep voice before slowly letting me go, letting out a heavy sigh.
I'm about to leave when he catches me off guard, pulling me close against him. I feel his hand slowly slide down my back, holding me tight against him before he covers my eyes with his other hand.
For a moment, I hear nothing but our breathing and the rapid beating of my heart, then I feel him move in front of me, and something brush against my lips. It’s slow, trembling as if holding back, and it takes me a few seconds to recover from the surprise, but I return his kiss gently, savoring the warm sensation of his lips against mine.
We spend a long moment like this, enjoying our time together, before I gently pull away, needing to catch my breath, my eyes still covered.
“That was…” I mutter, trailing off as I catch my breath.
“Perfect…” Flo adds. I laugh softly, moving closer to him, gently touching his hand without letting go.
“Yeah... although...” I smiled, moving even closer to him with my eyes closed, guiding myself by gently touching him, pulling him closer to me, tilting him downward as I tugged at his suit. “Maybe I want to practice a little more...”
Cesare Massaro x Don Torrisi's Daughter!f!reader x Enzo Favara
Misc Masterlist | Ch1, Ch2, Ch3 | Read on Ao3
SUMMARY: The visit of Il Barone Fontanella and his son Genaro to Villa Torrisi brings with it painful feelings and events. (This chapter takes place in the chapter Il Barone)
WARNING(S): Graphic violence, kidnapping, endogamy, angst, heartbreaking, jelousy, sensitive topics, dubious translation into Italian
NOTE: I loved writing this chapter, I hope you enjoy it, and obviously this is more of a Cesare fic than an Enzo fic, but it's not clickbait, because Reader likes Enzo 👀 it's just that he's a one-woman man (almost)
Chapter 2
Sicily, 1905
Life in Villa Torrisi was very monotonous, at least for the women of the village, who were devoted solely to domestic chores.
From a very young age, your father taught you your place in the world, and he made it clear to Isabella as well, but your sister still had hope that things would change.
The visit of Il Barone Fontanella and his son Genaro to the village only made it clearer that Isabella was fighting against the inevitable.
Cesare was the one who invited you to come with them to the ruins. He walked into the kitchen as if he owned the place, much to Valentina’s annoyance.
“You’re getting mud on the floor, Cesare!”
“I’ve come to invite Mia farfalinna (my little butterfly). Luca sent us to chaperone Isabella,” Cesare grumbled, a little annoyed. “We’re going to the ruins.”
“Oh, really?” you said happily. You loved being in the kitchen, but you hadn’t left the villa in a long time.
You dried your hands on your apron, then took it off and hung it on the coat rack in the kitchen with the rest.
“Well, have fun,” Valentina said goodbye, frowning at Cesare.
You left the kitchen with Cesare behind you and saw Il Barone’s son’s luxury car.
“È bellissimo! Soon I’ll have a car and I’ll take you to San Celeste to buy more of your spices.”
Cesare was happy, so you smiled at him.
“Grazie, Cesare.”
“Now let’s go to Genaro’s. There’s a seat for you in the car, but you can sit on my lap if you want.” He winked at you.
You stopped smiling.
“It’s not funny, Cesare.”
“Looking at your face, it’s very funny.”
You went down the steps with Cesare and reached the stables where Enzo and Isabella were.
“Sorellina mia (my little sister), I’ve prepared Sandro, we’re going riding,” said your older sister, giving you a big hug. She was wearing the new camera your father had bought her around her neck.
Her sweet rose perfume filled your senses, then you looked at Enzo and saw a hint of melancholy in his eyes.
His hair had grown quite long and he now combed it with wax. He looked even more handsome, and your heart beat like a wild colt in your chest.
“Enzo,” you greeted him with a nod.
“La piccola signorina Torrissi,” he greeted you with a smile.
You didn’t like that; it was just like Luca saw you, as a little girl.
When you were a child, your crush on Gianluca Trappani was too obvious. You hardly ever spent time with any man other than your father, Tino, or Cesare. Your father hardly let you go out after your mother's death, so Luca’s kindness became something to admire in your adolescence.
You liked the devotion with which he treated Valentina and cared for his son Samuele. He was sweet, kind, and honorable.
For you, he was the perfect man, except that he was under your father’s command, married, and twice your age. Besides, you could never get married, but you liked to fantasize about it.
Luca always saw you as a little girl, so your infatuation remained a sweet, platonic love, hidden in your childhood diaries, although Valentina had noticed and told you she hoped you would find a man like her Luca.
Finally, you mounted your horse Sandro, which was chocolate brown with a leather saddle that was quite comfortable. You had put on your riding pants and boots that morning in the hope that Il Barone’s arrival at Villa Torrisi would free you from your long, monotonous dresses.
Cesare smiled at you as he left with Genaro in the car.
Enzo, Isabella, and you followed behind them.
Isabella was very talkative, always able to make pleasant conversation, and she spoke very freely with Enzo, as if she knew him better than you did, which was probably true because she had secretly told you that Enzo had saved her from some of Don Spadaro’s men in San Celeste on the day Enzo won the Palio in honor of Villa Torrisi.
The first thing you said to your sister was that she shouldn’t spend time alone with Enzo.
Your sister was irritated.
“You’re just like our father.”
“No, Isabella, understand that you are a signorina, the daughter of a Don, and he is a man under our father’s command. You are putting him in danger." You made her see this, and she nodded reluctantly.
“Certo, but we’re just friends. Enzo is… he’s different from any other man I’ve ever met before.” You saw her eyes light up, and a bitter taste settled on your tongue.
It was jealousy.
“We don’t know many men our age, Isabella, well, except for Cesare…” you joked.
“I don’t think he counts as a man.”
You both laughed, and you tried with all your might to ignore that bitter taste that you didn’t like at all.
But the bitter taste had returned, it was like fire burning your throat, burning your stomach, your sister Isabella spoke so freely with Enzo and he responded back to her, they met your father’s men on the way and Isabella greeted them with such ease.
Why didn’t you have Isabella’s charm? She had definitely inherited it from Momma, and you had only inherited her submission and obedience, which made you your father’s favorite because he never had to argue or fight with you.
You knew your place, but you were fed up with it, and seeing Enzo and Isabella talking bothered you even more.
“Well, you two are very good friends…” you said, interrupting the conversation.
“Yes, Signorina Torrisi,” Enzo replied.
“You don’t have to call me that, Enzo.”
“I want to show you something. Remember, Sorellina? When we came here with Momma?” They galloped up the hill.
Seeing the landscape before you, you remembered the best memories of your childhood, when Momma painted those landscapes and your father wasn’t so angry.
“Yes!” The three of them dismounted.
“That’s why I bought the camera. Momma painted, but I’m not half as good as she was.”
“Enzo, take a picture of us!” you asked the young man, and he nodded as your sister explained how to focus the camera. He took two pictures, one of you two hugging like sisters with the ruins in the background, and another of just the landscape.
Your sister would add It to her diary.
You heard the loud engine of the car, and your sister suggested catching up with Genaro and Cesare before they killed each other.
They arrived soon, and after a short, sarcastic conversation between your sister and Genaro, Isabella went to show him the ruins. Cesare told you to stay.
“Your sister can take care of herself, farfalinna. If it were you, I’d be more worried…” he murmured, sitting in the driver’s seat with Enzo in the passenger seat, but not before opening the back door for you as a gesture of chivalry.
“I can take care of myself, Cesare,” you replied irritably.
He had lit a cigarette and taken his first drag, then blew the smoke directly into your face.
You sneezed, visibly annoyed. Enzo watched the scene with a frown.
“See? You can’t take care of yourself, that’s why I have to take care of you.” Cesare sneered.
“I don’t think you do a very good job,” Enzo complained. “No one takes care of her but you.”
“That’s the best part, Caruso,” Cesare joked.
You grumbled and took your recipe book/diary out of your small bag.
They passed the time, enjoying the sun on their skin.
Enzo read the newspaper and Cesare was already on his second cigarette.
“You know, Cugina (Cousin)? Sometimes I think my uncle treats you like a servant. Isabella seems to be treated like a principessa. She does nothing, and you spend all day in the kitchen.”
“I like to cook. My father doesn’t force me to be there,” you objected.
Enzo was surprised at how disrespectfully Cesare treated you. Had you told your father how your cousin treated you?
He treated him with contempt, but he was just a simple Caruso, and Cesare was foul-mouthed. You were a signorina, the youngest daughter of Don Torrisi. How was this possible?
“Cesare…” Enzo growled under his breath.
“What, Enzo? It’s the truth. It seems that my poor cugina is a servant. That will change when I’m in charge. I’ll only let her cook for me.” Next cigarette. Cesare smelled of smoke and ashes.
“Whatever you say, Cesare. Ignore him, Enzo. That’s what I do most of the time.” You replied, concentrating on your recipe book and leaning back in the back seat.
You fell asleep, and the movement of the car woke you up.
You saw Enzo driving and Cesare guiding him.
“What are you doing? Did Genaro give you permission?” you asked sleepily.
“Yes, of course, hold on tight, cousin, Enzo doesn’t know how to drive.”
Enzo snorted, but the quick, jerky movements woke you up completely. Cesare challenged Enzo to a race on the Circuit of the Gods, and you were already scared enough. Cesare teased you.
“It’s not funny, Cesare!”
“If you could see your face right now, it’s very funny.” He laughed loudly as Enzo continued to speed up, then you heard your sister’s screams.
“Minchia!” Enzo shouted, arriving as quickly as possible to rescue Isabella and Genaro.
Enzo got out and took out his gun, and Cesare made you get out of the car.
“Put your head down! Get on the horse and ride back to the villa as fast as you can.” Cesare gave you a silver knife. “If anyone comes near you, cut their jugular.”
“Cesare!” you shouted, frightened, your eyes wet with tears as he carried you to your horse’s saddle.
Fear was paralyzing you.
“It’s you or them. Enzo and I will be back soon with Isabella.” He kicked Sandro, and the horse galloped away in terror toward the Villa.
It didn’t take long before a man chased you on his horse. His boss had sent him to stop you from warning the villa. The last thing they needed was more of Don Torrisi’s men involved. He pulled you, trying to throw you off the horse, and you screamed in pain as he grabbed your hair.
You pulled out your knife and stabbed him in the neck. Soon, hot blood splattered your face and chest. The man was left hanging from his saddle with his horse out of control, and you fled with the feeling that you were drowning in that man’s blood.
Finally, you found Valerio and Roberto. By then you were babbling, you were very upset. They escorted you to the village, and you felt safer with your father’s men, who were armed with hunting rifles.
You explained to your father, Tino, and Luca what had happened, but you couldn’t stop crying.
“Bambina, stop whining and babbling and explain yourself better,” Tino scolded you with his usual severity.
You sniffed and wiped your tears. You had tried to clean the blood with a rag, but it had already dried on your skin, clothes, and hair.
You could only repeat to yourself, “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.”
Those men looked at you seriously, Luca was the only one who looked at you with sadness and concern. Your father was angry.
“It’s the bandits from Messina, they took Isabella and Genaro, so Enzo and Cesare went to rescue them, Cesare sent me back,” you murmured.
“Good, we must send men right away, Luca,” Don Torrisi ordered, leaving his office with Luca behind him.
“Bambina, go make yourself presentable. You look pitiful and dirty,” Tino scolded you, leaving your father’s office and finally leaving you alone.
Valentina came to see you in your room, helped you take off your bloodstained clothes, and bathe in the small bathtub. You were still in shock; you had killed a man.
When you were clean, you heard that Cesare and Isabella had returned. Valentina tried to stop you; you were barefoot, your hair wet, and you had barely finished putting on your dress.
You ran to greet your sister, who had bruises on her face and hands, and hugged her.
The scent of roses had dissipated a little with the dust and iron.
But your sister was fine, safe and sound.
Once you let go of her, you saw Cesare. He was dazed, with bruises on his arms and a blow to his face.
You hugged him. He still smelled of smoke.
“You’re alive! I’m glad,” Cesare joked, trying to hide how scared he had been that you wouldn’t make it back to the villa on your own.
“I can take care of myself, I told you,” you murmured with a small smile, but then you collapsed and cried your eyes out on his shoulder.
Isabella stroked your hair.
“It’s okay, mia farfalinna, I’ll take care of you,” Cesare murmured. “Nothing will ever happen to you again, ti prometto.”
But you knew he was lying.
Enzo hadn’t come back; he had gone to rescue Genaro Fontanella.
Your father was furious, and your sister and you just wanted Enzo to come back alive.
Isabella was scared, you accompanied her to her room and she told you everything, how Enzo had saved her life, then she hesitated.
“What’s wrong, Isabella?”
“Enzo and I kissed,” she said with an expression of anguish and happiness on her face.
You looked at her seriously, the bitter taste returning like a burning fire.
“Isabella, por Dio! Can’t you think of the consequences…”
“It’s all I can think about! But I can’t help it, Sorellina, I’m in love with Enzo.” Isabella lamented and reminded you of when you were little.
Your mother alwayss favored Isabella, perhaps because she was more like Momma. Maybe Cesare was right and Isabella was the Principessa and you were just a commoner.
“If you really love him, you would stay away from him. You’re putting him in danger. Do you know what Father would do to him?”
“I know, I know…” she complained through her tears.
“Then promise me you’ll stay away from him, Isabella.” You warned her, pointing at her accusingly.
Your sister looked at you fearfully, seeming to regret having told you.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, lowering your voice and your gaze.
“No, you’re right, Sorellina, it’s for his own good. Ti prometto.” Isabella hugged you.
