#i yawned at least 20 times while typing so sentences may not make sense

[swiftmitsu]

more questions since the boredom is at it again 🥴 [i like asking tho lol] 1- PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MROE MUSIC RECCOMNDATIONS EEE IT WAS SO GOOD 💥 2- What DnD class would you be [and what would the moral allignment be] if you could choose any 3-WAIT HOW'D YOU DO THE TEXT CHANGE COLOR THING I CAN ONLY DO ThiS [it doesnt melt into another color like the yellow thingy did 😭] 4- what are your top three ships [platonic or otherwise] [[personally poly star sanses 🗣🗣🗣]] 5- HAVE YOU TRIED THE WOOLIES COOKIES PLEASE OMFG THEY'RE SO GOOD THEY MAKE ME ASCEND 🎇 [not the ones with the macedamia, like the one with them BIG CHOC CHIPS EEE THEIR SO YUMMM]

YEAHHHH MOREEE >:DDD

1- AAAA IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT okay SOOO. pulls up killer playlist

If I Killed Someone For You by Alec Benjamin (MORE ROMANTIC KILLER EEHHEHE)

ORRR if you want sad/angsty Killer

Happy Face by Jagwar Twin

(has to force himself to be happy to cope with his life man. 🫠)

2- OKAY SO. IVE NEVER ACTUALLY GOTTEN INTO DND. (i really want to play a game one day though💔)

BUT I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THE CLASSES. I'd definitely would go with Ranger, being Chaotic Good hehehe

3- ISNT IT PRETTY??? (i did it because tumblr removed yellow texts option on desktop >:(( )

unfortunately I think you can only do it on desktop too, since you're unable to change the editor of the posts and stuff on mobile..... >:( (i used this post to help me :3)

4- EHEHEHEHEH

okay so honestly, im not much of a shipper lol

KROSS. though, i like seeing them as a queerplatonic pair more :)

KIST ALSO. EHEHEEE theyre both suffering similarly but also differently eueueu let them comfort each other 💔💔💔

but OF COURSE I NEED TO MENTION HORRORDUST. theyre made for each other man i cant even.

(alsO HELL YEAH POLY STAR SANSES EHEH. works good alongside the bad sanses poly *maniacal laughter*)

5- OH MY GOD. YES YES YESSSS.‼️‼️

exposing myself, but i work at a Coles bakery and we get to just. eat the cookies if there's any left over (there always is)

THERE WERE THE ONES THAT WERE SIMILAR TO THE WOOLIES ONE AND RAAAAAAA💥💥💥💥

I EXPLODE EVERY TIME BECAUSE ITS SO WARM. STRAIGHT OUTTA THE OVENNNN✨✨✨✨

[risottoneroo]

self indulgence, pt 20

a/n: heres my first ever finished series!! fuck this has been a ride, but im glad to have done it with all of you.

warnings: weddings, crying, pregnancy mentions

The planning for your wedding passed in a blur. It would be in Sicily, in Risotto’s hometown, and in the church he had gone to growing up. His family thought he was dead, and he knew it was best to keep it that way.

Your honeymoon would be in Malta, and it would be only a week. Risotto didn’t trust his subordinates to run the newly fledging organization for longer than that. 

An increasingly obvious problem was Secco. The man had grown more and more attached to you as the days went on, and he now had a hard time being separated from you. He did wear clothes now, usually shorts and a loose t shirt, but he still had the unfortunate habit of coming to you when he was horny. 

Secco was a unique issue, and one you needed to confront. He was a grown man who acted like a particularly obedient pet, who clearly had issues that couldn’t be resolved easily, and who was a very powerful and loyal Stand user. 

Risotto would rather Secco remained attached to you than have to kill him, but he’d made it clear in no uncertain terms that Secco was not to come on the honeymoon. You agreed. You’d have to find someone who liked him. 

Your solution came when you were trying to order the invitations. Your computer kicked the bucket just as you were finishing. Fortunately, Melone was in town, and he agreed to come over and help. The moment he stepped in the door, Secco was on him like an overeager dog. Melone frowned. “And who’s this?”

You sighed. “Secco, stop! He’s Cioccolata’s former human pet. I transferred his loyalties.”

Melone swallowed. “Your Stand is very…interesting.”

You laughed. “You can say scary.”

He shrugged and leaned down to pat Secco’s head. “He’s very cute.”

Secco purred and looked pleased. “Thank you!”

Melone jumped. “Oh, you talk!”

Secco’s voice was less garbled now, since you’d worked with him on speech. Melone knelt and looked at Secco. “Do you like it here?”

Secco grinned. “I love it here. Y/N and Risotto aren’t mean to me, and they aren’t weak like Cioccolata was. And Y/N is so pretty-”

He blushed and looked down. Melone chuckled softly and stood. “He’s an interesting project, to say the least.”

You sighed. “Yeah. My issue is that he can’t exactly come on the honeymoon with us.”

Melone shrugged. “I’ll keep him.”

You blinked. “Really?”

He raised an eyebrow. “A human pet? I’d love to talk more with him.”

You shrugged. “Secco, do you want to go with Melone for a week?”

Seccon grinned. “He seems nice! Yeah.”

You shrugged again. “Okay, well, he’ll take you to his apartment after he’s done here, so go and get your things.”

Secco bounded into your room. You sat next to Melone on the couch, and he pulled up a mockup of your wedding invitations. “I knew something like this would happen, so I saved duplicates of everything on Babyface.”

You hugged him. “Thank you so much.”

He shrugged and hit a few keys, sending them to the company you were getting them from. “It’s not a problem.”

He hugged you back and smiled. “I’m happy you and Risotto are finally tying the knot.”

You pulled away and smiled back. “I am too.”

He stood, and Secco came out of your room, holding his bag. It had his changes of clothes and his toiletries, both of which you had gotten for him. Getting him to take a bath at first had been hell, but he’d eventually grown to like it. 

Melone took his hand. “I’ll take good care of him, Y/N.”

You smiled and knelt to kiss Secco’s forehead. “Be good for Melone.”

He hugged you tight and nodded. “I will.”

You hugged him back, then let go and stood. Melone nodded to you and led Secco out the door. Secco was walking normally, although it was a little bowlegged. 

You sat back down at your desk, glad that at least one of the knots in your life had been untangled. 

RIsotto came home late, looking tired. You were on the couch, typing on your laptop. When you saw him, you put it down and reached out. He pulled off his tie and fell onto your lap, groaning. “They’re so fucking stupid.”

You stroked his hair gently. “What happened?”

He shook his head. “They’ll never survive without me.”

He turned over and looked up at you. “They’re barely making it without you. With both of us gone, this whole operation might just go under.”

You sighed. “Prosciutto?”

Risotto bit his lip. “Has his hands full containing the leak. Formaggio would be able to hold it down for a few days, and with Illuso, probably a full week.”

You shrugged. “So we have some extra work at the end of the day. Not a bad thing.”

He shrugged back and stayed quiet. You kept scratching his hair, and he hummed. You smiled. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

He nodded, yawning again. You patted his head. “Go put on pajamas. You’ll wrinkle your suit.”

He rolled his eyes, and got up. “The suit isn’t even that expensive-”

You shook your head. “I like it, I don’t want it to get wrinkled.”

He stuck his tongue out playfully, and you smiled. 

You turned on the TV while he changed. You glanced into your shared room. He was down to his briefs, stretching out tired muscles. He smiled at you, and you smiled back. He pulled on a baggy tshirt and came out. “Hey.”

You held out your arms, and he laid down on you. His feet were hanging off the end of the couch, but he didn’t care.

The day of your wedding came faster than you’d expected. Risotto had stayed over at Formaggio’s place the night before, so tradition could be kept. A team of Passione aestheticians had come over early in the morning and made you up and laced you into the dress.  You sat in a chair and looked at yourself as they contoured and colored your face. The makeup was soft. You swallowed the nervousness in your throat. You were the queen, and they knew it. What had you done to get there? What would you do to stay there?

The church you were getting married in was massive. All of Passione was in attendance for the ceremony, but only a select few would be present for the reception, mostly the former members of La Squadra di Esecuzione and their new spouses or underlings. Bruno’s squad would be there as well, even Mista. Risotto had refused to budge on ordering him to attend. The final nail in his coffin, watching the woman you love become inaccessible forever. 

You were prepared to walk down the aisle alone. But when Prosciutto met you at the door and offered his arm, you were grateful. He kissed your cheek gently. “You look beautiful.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “I know I have to give you away to him.”

You touched his cheek. Your heels made you taller than him. “We’re friends.”

He closed his eyes. “Yes.”

The music started, and the doors opened.

The church was beautiful, festooned in lace and white roses. The sun shone through green, white and blue stained glass, and the ceiling was high and airy.  Your train trailed behind you as you walked down the aisle with Prosciutto. 

Risotto was standing at the altar, looking angry as usual. His tuxedo was black from the skin out. The only break was his white tie. He turned to you, and his facade broke. 

His face crumpled, and he covered his face as he began to cry. You rushed the last few steps and took his wrists. “Ris, what-?”

The church was stunned. Nobody had ever seen him cry before. He pulled his hands away from his face and wiped away his tears. “Fuck. You’re beautiful. I never thought-”

You smiled weakly. “If you cry, I’ll cry. Quit it.”

He nodded and inhaled deeply. His black sclera never revealed that he’d been crying. The priest cleared his throat. “Are we ready?”

You nodded and took Risotto’s hands. The priest began. “Dearly beloved-”

You zoned out and watched Risotto’s face. He was smiling at you. He looked utterly content. You both repeated after the priest, and after your “I do’s”, he stepped back. “The couple will now state their vows to one another before God.”

Risotto swallowed hard and pulled out a stack of notecards. He blinked and looked at you. “Y/N. You are the woman I love. When I found you, I hoped against hope that someday we would be here, and I, against all odds, and all evidence to the contrary, have finally gotten something I want. Someone I want. You have risked your life to get us where we are now, but that stops here. I will keep you safe. I will make a home for you, wherever that may be.”

He swallowed hard and continued. “As I stand here, under the eyes of God and Passione, I know that I chose right. I chose you, and I will keep choosing you.”

You sniffled, and Prosciutto at your elbow handed you a handkerchief. You took Risotto’s hands. “Risotto Nero, you have been the only constant in my life for a long time. I have loved you for longer than I know, and I feel blessed every day that I’m by your side. You make me laugh and cry, rage and smile. I have risked my life for yours, as you do for mine. I would do it again in a heartbeat. You are the only man I would do this for. I chose you. I will keep choosing you.”

The priest spoke softly, but the whole church heard it. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Risotto’s lips were on your before the priest finished his sentence. You could taste salt and blood, tears and iron. His lips were crushing and desperate, his hands pulling you in close to him passionately. 

He pulled back, panting softly, and you smiled at him. “You have lipstick marks.”

He laughed and pulled away, taking your hand in his and facing the church. The priest announced, “I present to you today, under God for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Risotto Nero.”

Epilogue.

Of course it didn’t end there. Risotto rose in power and fame, eventually controlling all of Italy in his web of organized crime. He became known as “L’uomo Nero”, fitting both because of his last name and his fashion sense, as well as his sadistic taste in punishment. He was feared and respected. He never allowed anyone else to dole out punishment, and ruled with an iron fist.

Your powers, as soft as they seemed, were more feared among the organization. Rumors of you making men fall in love with a touch, then leading them into the jaws of L’uomo Nero, circulated long after you both retired. 

When Risotto turned 35, he decided he’d had enough. You retired with him to a small villa on a hill in Sicily, overlooking the beach. You stopped taking birth control, and were pregnant with twins within the year. They were born as white-haired as their father. Risotto doted on them, and on you.

You found him one day staring into the mirror at his body. When you had met him, ten years ago now, he had been slim and tall, like a tree. As he neared middle age, his body had thickened and gained muscle and fat. His belly stuck out over his shorts, and body hair had thickened on his chest and stomach. He’d raised an eyebrow at you, and you’d kissed him. He’d sighed. “I’m not the same man you married.”

You’d laughed. “I’m not the same woman. Does that mean we give up? Does that mean I don’t love you every day?”

He smiled and kissed you again. “No. It doesn’t.”

You were pregnant again the next year. Risotto’s love for you grew as his children did, and when you became pregnant again with twins, he decided it was time for a vasectomy. You agreed. 

You grew old together, watching your children play in the waves.