#vittoria: you were thinking it.

[vaniloqu3nce]

*coughs* oh where did this come from lol hyperfixations are falling out my pocket oops

The Vittoria and Naenia do not spend time apart very often, though they like wildly different things. This often means you can find them spending time doing each other respective interests. Vittoria will dress Naenia up while Naenia sits there quietly and reads. Or Vittoria will draw whatever story Naenia is writing. Or Vittoria just talking nonstop to Naenia who just nods along while reading books about arachnids.

Leonidas will join dress up if he has nothing better to do than walk around in a dress with one side of his hair braided and Vittoria begs really hard.

Vittoria LOVES her hair, she takes a lot of pride in it and doesn’t let anyone touch of braid her hair except Wednesday. She loves getting her hair styled and changed, she eagerly awaits the day Enid and Wedesday say she old enough to dye her hair. Naenia has Enid cut her hair pretty often, the feeling of hair touching the back of her neck is very uncomfortable for her.

One time Enid came in their room to find Vittoria had cut all of Naenia’s hair with scissors when they were six. Vittoria explained that Nia was getting frustrated and cried because of her hair and she was just trying to help. They all crowded into the bathroom and Enid helped smooth it out and soothe Nia. Naenia hasn’t had long hair since. And she doesn’t let anyone but Enid cut it, she is very particular about the way its cut.

Leo once tried to set Vittoria’s braids on fire and she tried to throw his violin out the window. This ended up in a week long prank war.

Naenia isn’t very talkative, Wednesday likes to believe she takes after lurch. Often Vittoria will speak for her, she has the uncanny ability to know how Naenia is feeling. The younger twin likes to read quietly or observe. Often you can spot her mirroring her family, she loves to be around them.

Wednesday will sit Naenia next to her during her writing hour in her personal office because sometimes Vittoria and Leonidas can get loud with their fighting and she’s sensitive to sounds. Naenia is the only person allowed to do this besides Enid because she is the only person in the family who can be quiet and still for an hour easily. Leonidas has trouble sitting still indoors without physical tasks, and Vittoria doesn’t like not speaking.

Naenia started writing at a young age to communicate with people outside of family. She will talk if it is necessary, or if she’s comfortable but its not often and certainly not to new people. She used to write little stories for her and her siblings to play pretend to. Like “Save The Helpless Child From Cthulhu” and “You’re Being Tortured How Loud Can You Scream”.

Vittoria: Why am I always the one getting tortured?

Leonidas: You torture us enough with your presence. Tie her up, Nae.

Naenia: *nodding while tying Tori to a chair*

Leonidas: If you can last three hours without crying, you can be mother’s favorite

Vittoria: I am mami’s favorite!

Naenia: *thumbs down*

Leonidas: Get the nails, Nia.

Because Naenia does not like loud sounds, she often does not partake in loud parties from the Addams family. Naenia will usually sit in a spare room with Thing to keep her company. Her family comes to check on her or bring her food usually though, especially Vittoria because they are codependent.

Vittoria LOVES Divina and Yoko, every time they visit she somehow manages to convince them and Enid to let her pick out their outfits.

Naenia loves Thing, she will follow thing and Leonidas around very often just to quietly be around them.

Naenia gets a pet tarantula from Wednesday for her birthday, she spends a lot of time just watching her and writing down her behavior. Her and Wednesday feed her together, her name is Lucifer. Naenia just calls her Luci.

Naenia’s idea of fun is sitting at home with all her family on the couch quietly watching horror movies. Or watching animal documentaries. She is a fan of arachnids particularly.

Both the twins make fun of Leonidas because he calls Wednesday “mother”.

Enid is Momma and Wednesday is Mami. Leonidas is just a quirky boy who’s different and calls Wednesday mother. She finds it endearing.

Vittoria has gotten into Enid’s make up multiple times, she loves anything sparkly and colorful.

Wednesday sets aside specific days for each of the kids to pick an activity for them to do together. This was her way of delegating time between writing and spending time with them.

Vittoria always wants to go shopping, she loves getting Wednesday’s opinions and because Wednesday lets her get as many onesies as she wants. They’ll have tea parties, play dress up, watch Tangled (Vittoria’s favorite movie), or Wednesday will let Vittoria do her hair while Wednesday tries to keep up with her gossip.

Naenia always wants Wednesday to read her stories and give feedback, Wednesday is always amused and proud. They will read quietly in the library, look at pictures of spiders and facts, and watch and critique horror movies. Naenia really likes to share arachnid facts, and Wednesday always listens. She remembers every single one.

Leonidas almost always asks Wednesday to fence, he is determined to beat her at least once in his lifetime. Wednesday hasn’t let him win once. He likes playing chess with her, playing music with her, and learning from her. Knife throwing, archery, Leonidas is very competitive but he is currently 178/0 with Wednesday. He’ll win eventually.

[nyssausage]

At one point my wiew of Adric always did cringy puns that only work on Alzarian. I had a fanfic called “The Waterhouse”! This was a long time ago, way back before I even watched the show. And it reminded me... Usually, when I do stuff, it’s almost never actually borne out of watching the actual show or playing the actual videogame, but instead, it’s always completely different! Because all the fandoms I have, basically usually have almost nothing in common, except they reminded me of Susan Wainwright! Even the Caucasus, I did Caucasus-related stuff because I felt that the flag of Georgia reminded me of Susan Wainwright. So it has nothing to do with real life!

[queenie-avenue]

This is a man's world, but she rules it.

💌 ⤻ THE MAFIA BOSS, VITTORIA COSTANZA ft. THE COVER

—> the devil wears prada.

⤻ reader is female (i really needed some delulu), kidnapping, typical mafia activities, toxic behaviour, posesseive and obsessive behaviour, mentions of misogyny, conversion therapy and homophobia, death, non-consensual kissing

notes: thank you to @ciaheyhimm for allowing me to use this character! isabella was originally a character from a mafia roleplay set in the 1940s to 50s. please go check that blog out, they are a historical blog and i believe that she is writing a book at the moment!

💌 ⤻ archives.

"Thank you for your help in locating down my dearest [y/n]." The woman in the shadows spoke. That accent, that strong accent and overbearing smell of perfume... you found yourself thinking of one single person that came to your mind. Even her heels, branded with her own fashion brand 'Costanza' confirmed to you who this person was.

"Of course, I am a bit disappointed that you — how do you say? — compromised their location and safety to me, even as their bodyguard." She spoke, your body still laying paralysed against the lush bed that Vittoria had no doubt prepared for you. Ribbons of the finest silk bound your hands together, even as the drug forced you to stay put. It seemed she wanted to be very very sure that you wouldn't escape her, again.

Even the dress you were wearing, it was designed by her. Her brand's ribbons were on your body, a mark of her.

Your Father had disapproved of your relationship, with both of you two being girls and all... but you hadn't expected her to go this far.

"I can't trust someone like that out of the field. Who knows, if someone offers you some money, if you'd spill the beans on this little stunt of mine." You heard something click, and your head snapped over, eyes widened.

Then a gunshot sounded, causing you to scream before a body slumped to the ground, blood bleeding out from the shadows.

"Ay, aye, my Belleza, you should have told me you were awake." Her hips swayed as she emerged from the shadows. Her beautiful crimson red dress showed off the body you loved so much.

"Vitta, what the hell." You muttered as your attempted to raise yourself out of bed, only to be held down by the drugs in your system and the silk ribbons restraining you.

Slowly, she stalked towards you, like you were a prey she was ready to kill and feast on. But then, she simply sits on the edge of 'your' bed and begins to undress herself, slipping her zipper down as it revealed a petticoat underneath, and a corset that held her curved body together like a contorted doll, laced too tightly. You were so happy to get her out of it at one point, but when she stripped this time, it was intimidating.

"Darling." She whispered as she leaned in to caress your cheek. "I had to." She smiled, and that smile was so wicked, like the demoness Lilith had come to life in front of you.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

When you first met Vittoria, it was at a gala. A gala meant to celebrate Vittoria Costanzo's newest fashion collection, based on something you didn't bother listening to. You dressed in whatever your Father wanted you to dress in, which was most of the time, dresses that appealed to the male gaze in hopes of finding you a catch of a husband he could give you away to.

"Ah... Mister [l/n], what a pleasure to meet you." The woman that approached you was stunning. Her strawberry blonde hair was tossed into victory curls, showing off her gorgeous neckline and strong collarbone. She was dressed head to toe in red, the colour of blood. Even her lips, so delicate and beautifully shaped, were stained in that perfect shade of crimson that seemed to draw in attention to her and only her. You wondered whether she had informed everyone that she was the only one allowed to wear red on that day.

"And who might this cute little lady be?" Little lady? You were about the same age as her.

"Ah, this is my daughter, I don't believe you've met." Grinned your Father as he pat you forward, introducing you to the woman.

"A pleasure to meet you." You curtsied quaintly.

Instead of returning the curtsey, Vittoria snatched your gloved hand and planted a kiss there. Like a gentleman would to a lady. The red lipstick stained your gloves, marking you as her own.

"The pleasure is all mine." Her eyes glinted and you felt your cheeks heat up, as if she could see right through you. "As much as I'd love to stay here and chat with the both of you, I have to go entertain the rest of my sponsors." Vittoria grinned charmingly, "I'm sure you understand, Mister [l/n]." She waved goodbye to the two of you and you swore you saw her wink in your direction.

Before you could compose yourself, you heard your father groan and gag. "I cannot believe a woman like her would dare show her face and intentions like that."

"What do you mean?" You turned to him. Your father was never a pleasant man, but he would never say something so outright.

He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned down. "That woman is rumoured to be queer." He spat out the word like it was the worst thing he could say. "Of course, a working woman would be something like that. She has no man in her life, so she wants to prey on innocent girls." Laughed your Father, which made you cringe.

"I will go get a cup of lemonade." You said to him as you flitted away like a butterfly as he went to talk to some other influential man.

Just as you picked out a drink, one of the waiters came over to you. "Madam Costanza has told me to deliver this message to you." You tilted your head as you looked at the tray he was carrying, a small card placed on it. You hesitantly took it and flipped it over, only reading it when you saw that no one was looking in your direction.

"That dress looks amazing on you. Perhaps if you come to my studio one of these days, I could design an even better dress for you." The card was sealed with a kiss from her red lipstick. Your gloved fingers smeared over the stain as you let out a sharp breath. The card wasn't signed, but you knew who had written it to tempt you.

Thus was the start of your affair with Vittoria Constanza, the most skilled fashion designer in Italy.

So how in the world did it end up this way? Your Father had figured out that you were having an affair with the lady and barred you from leaving your room, trying different forms of 'therapy' on you to convert you back into a normal woman. But nothing worked. He grew angrier day by day because of that. Not to mention, an illusive crime syndicate had decided to ruin his business with backstreet dealings. They exposed his tax fraud and more, which caused your Father to grow bankrupt and yet still, he did not allow you out of his grasp.

Then, that same mafia that ruined your family's business stormed your house. It was too obvious, not at all like the subtle actions the mafia normally acted out. It was chaotic and messy as they slaughtered any and all bodyguards that tried to fight back.

You felt strong arms behind you, force-feeding you some spill that you almost puked out. But the man simply shoved it in.

The last thing you saw was your Father's head being blown open by the a gun that Isabella held. She had pulled the trigger, and you screamed weakly before collapsing in the arms of the man.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Vittoria leaned over. "Are you feeling better? You've been out for a bit." She said in such a sweet tone, cooing at you like she had done when she cradled you in her arms inside of her fashion studio.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Vitta, Darling. Your Vittoria." She smiled. "Don't tell me those drugs changed your memory, my dear!" She chuckled. "I would have to kill the scientists that gave it to me."

"That's not what I meant!" You tried to get up, but you were restrained. Thank god the drug was starting to wear off, though, at least you could use your hands now. "You- you're part of the mafia." You said, terrified of the woman seated over you.

"Oh dear, I'm not just part of the mafia. When I join something, I make sure that I'm always at the top of it." Overconfidence dripped from her tongue as she rolled her eyes, "I rule the mafia. And I've taken you in to be a Queen by my side."

"Are you fucking crazy!" You yelled at her.

"Crazy in love, yes." She leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "I understand that you don't want to forgive me right now, but this is just a spat between lovers. You'll forgive me eventually." She smiled softly, pressing yet another kiss to your restrained form.

You weren't sure of what lay ahead this odd fate God had thrust you into but you were sure you would never forgive Vittoria.

"I love you." She whispered, pressing yet another kiss, this time to your forehead.

"In this world of shadows, you're the only light in my life. So I won't let you escape."

[agentstarkid]

ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU ✦ DR3

✦ DEBRIEF: Amid the vibrant energy of a New Year's Eve party, chance encounters led to unexpected connections where captivating eyes, a charming accent, and a carefree personality were all she needed to be forever enchanted by his presence.

✦ PAIRINGS: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 7.3K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, fluff, really sappy thoughts, there's a nine-year age gap.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: holis babes! i'm back with another attempt at writing! the last chapters were angsty and i needed a lil bit of equilibrium so please enjoy reading how the night they met went. Y'all can thank Tally for it <3 + FYI, the next chapter is nowhere being finished yet—this is a little treat for y'all because of that— this past month has been crazy at my job and the chia seeds' harvest season starts in June so I'm not sure how much time—or energy—I'll have. I'd probably be a bit absent but I'll try my best to keep this show going. Also, can you guys find all the references? 👀 PLEASEEEE let me know what you think of this. 'kay, byeee.

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December 31st, 2019 | 6:27 p.m.

As the world buzzed with excitement in anticipation of the approaching New Year, with its promises of new beginnings and fresh starts, I found myself yearning for something different. While others eagerly made plans for extravagant celebrations and wild parties, my heart longed for the simple comforts of home. The allure of crowded festivities and glittering fireworks paled in comparison to the warmth of my own cozy sanctuary, where I could embrace solitude. In a world that seems to thrive on noise and commotion, all I desired was the quiet embrace of familiarity and peace.

Despite my steadfast resolve to stay home, I found myself facing relentless persuasion from a certain Dutch DJ, my long-time friend Martin Garrix. His invitations to join him at a New Year's Eve party in New York, where he was scheduled to perform, grew more insistent with each passing week. Not content to pursue this endeavor alone —and knowing he wouldn’t be able to win this battle by himself—, Martin enlisted the help of my closest confidantes—Fio, my ever-reliable personal assistant; Vittoria, the vivacious soul who never shies away from adventure; and Danna, the wise and grounding presence in our lives.

You'd think that at 21, with a career that keeps reaching new heights everyday, I'd be excited to join those types of celebrations.

Nuh-uh.

Years ago, the prospect of attending a high-profile party filled with celebrities and socialites would have thrilled me beyond measure. Back then, I reveled in the glamour and excitement, relishing the chance to mingle with the elite and bask in the spotlight.

Furthermore, the aftermath of my final breakup with Harry —after two years together and the last year of it being on-and-off— had left me feeling disillusioned and wary of the intentions of those around me. Once the darling of the celebrity circuit, I now found myself excluded from the inner circles I once frequented, my invitations to exclusive events dried up almost overnight. It's a harsh reality I had to come to terms with, one that has left me questioning the true nature of the friendships I once held so dear.

With Martin's persistent pleas ringing in my ears, I gathered my resolve and attempted to explain my desire for a quiet evening in. “Guys, I really appreciate the effort, but I just want to stay home tonight,” I insisted, sinking deeper into the cushions of the couch. “I've been looking forward to a High School Musical marathon all week.”

Fio, my fiery assistant, raised an incredulous eyebrow. “High School Musical? Are you serious, chica? This is New Year's Eve! Yo lo que quiero es que salgas a janguear patabajo y pasarla de show. You can watch Zac Efron dance any other night!” Hailing from the sun-kissed shores of Puerto Rico, she wore her heritage proudly, her voice ringed out with the rhythmic cadence of her native land.

Vittoria, the true embodiment of Brazilian beauty and spirit with her sun-kissed complexion and luminous smile, chimed in with a playful grin. “Yeah, fofinha, come on! You can even ask Martin to play ‘The Start of Something Newʼ if it pleases you,” she grabbed my left hand between both of hers and tugged at it, “We can dance and sing along to Zac Efron together at the party!” she exclaimed, shaking my arm excitedly. 

Well... I could definitely ask Martin to play it, he'd probably say yes in a heartbeat if it meant I would cave in and go to this party. After all, he's been awfully insistent on my attendance. 

Danna, the 23-year-old American with an effortless grace and quiet confidence, offered a gentle smile. “I understand wanting a cozy night in, but trust me, you'll regret missing out on this party. It'll be a night to remember.” she punned with a wink and smiled when Vitto offered her an enthusiastically high five. Vitto sometimes reminded me of a puppy with an impressive amount of energy and excitement, always prompting me to try and keep up with her and leave my comfort zone.

Despite their protests, I remained steadfast in my decision. There was no way I was moving from this couch. “Thanks, guys, but I'm sticking to my plan. You all go ahead and have fun without me.” However, I was but a simple human surrounded by three forces of nature and it was super clear that my friends had other ideas and soon they were bustling around me, pulling me off the couch and insisting I get ready for the night ahead.

Reluctantly, I allowed the girls to coax me off the couch and into action. With Fio's enthusiastic energy, Vittoria's impeccable sense of style, and Danna's calming presence, they transformed my quiet night in into a whirlwind of preparation for the party.

Fio rummaged through my closet, pulling out a stunning short dress made with net-woven high-end silver jewelry that would—quoting her—help highlight and show mi sazón latino among the precious stones, while Vittoria offered her expert opinion on the perfect outfit. “Uff mami, that definitely screams ‘New Year's Eve glam’!” she declared, holding up the sparkling ensemble that catched the light just right. 

Meanwhile, Danna took charge of my hair and makeup, opting for a soft, glamorous look. “You're going to turn heads tonight, babes,” she assured me, brushing a hint of shimmer onto my cheeks. 

Despite my initial resistance, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement as I watched my reflection transform before my eyes.

“Who knows, babes,” Danna paused, carefully applying a nude shade gloss to my lips. “Maybe you’ll find your own Troy Bolton tonight, and have your own The Start of Something New moment” she wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

“You are on a roll tonight with the puns and references, aren’t you Dannita?” Fio peeked out her head from inside my closet and asked jokingly, letting out a laugh while she ducked from a damp sponge lightheartedly tossed her way by Danna.

“Nossa, cara! Você parece uma deusa!” Vitto exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine admiration. (Wow, dude! You look like a goddess!)

A blush crept up my cheeks at her compliment, and I turned to Danna with a grateful smile. “Seriously, Danni, you've outdone yourself,” I praised her, marveling at her skill in transforming me for the evening. “Thank you for making me feel like royalty.”

With a modest smile, Danna accepted my gratitude, her eyes shining with pride at the success of her handiwork. And then, just as the last finishing touches were being applied, she posed the inevitable question: “So, what are your New Year's resolutions?”

With a playful grin, I shrugged, the weight of the question settling over me like a familiar cloak. “I think this year,” I replied, my voice tinged with determination, “I just want to have fun and focus on myself. No boys, no drama, just me.” It was a simple resolution, yet one that carried a weight of significance, a commitment to prioritize my own happiness and well-being above all else.

As I sat there, unaware of their subtle exchange, the girls exchanged knowing glances and smiles, a silent understanding passing between them. Little did I know, they had orchestrated this moment with a shared knowledge of Martin's plans for the evening.

After I was allowed to rose from my seat, I grabbed and put on the large hoops and a set of very discreet rings that Vitto opted for, she explained to me that the expensive design I was wearing ‘perfectly adorned my tanned skin in such a way that I did not need almost any other accessory to elevate the look to its maximum potential’. 

As I waited for the girls to finish getting ready, I idly scrolled through my WhatsApp contacts' status updates, seeking a distraction from the anticipation bubbling inside me. My mom uploaded a video showing all the food they had cooked for dinner. A homesick feeling hit me even if I just came back from spending two weeks at home. Next, Martin’s status showed up on my screen, he posted a photo showcasing his DJ set getting set up for the party. I tapped on his name and took a quick selfie flipping him off playfully and sent it, he didn’t take long to respond with “Does this mean I won?” followed by two pairs of eyes emoji. “Yes” I answered, also followed with the rolling eyes emoji. 

I scrolled through a couple others, when I stumbled upon Selena’s. She posted a selfie all dolled up with her friends and pinned New York City as her location which piqued my curiosity. I composed a brief message, my fingers dancing over the keys as I typed out a casual inquiry about her plans for New Year's Eve in NYC. A response appeared on my screen moments later, “Hey girl! We’re actually heading to a party at The Bowery Hotel. What about you?” a smile tugged at the corners of my lips as excitement coursed through my body, I haven’t seen Sel in a while! We’ve been friends for years and she was one of the few people that was always there to lend me an ear and words of advice whenever I went through a rough patch in my life. “No way! That's where we’re going too! Maybe we'll bump into each other!”

“That’s awesome!!!!! I'll keep an eye out for you. See you there!” she replied. I let out a little happy sigh and shook my head. With my friends by my side, laughter filling the room, I began to anticipate the night ahead with a newfound sense of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, this New Year's Eve won't be so bad after all.

Unbeknownst to the singer, Martin's persistent efforts to persuade her to attend the party were driven by a secret agenda. For months, he has harbored a hidden desire to introduce her to a friend of his, in the hopes of sparking a connection between them. Despite Martin's best intentions, his attempts to orchestrate their meeting have thus far been thwarted by her obliviousness to his matchmaking schemes.

After receiving the confirmation that the first part of his plan had been successful, Martin discreetly sent a text message to his friend, informing him of her attendance. “She's finally agreed to come,” he typed, a hint of excitement evident in his words. “Be ready to charm her off her feet.”

On a different hotel floor, a 5'10'' curly-haired Aussie’s mind raced with possibilities, wondering who this mystery woman could be.

With a shrug, he tapped out a quick reply, his fingers flying over the keys as he crafted a response. “Sounds intriguing,” he typed, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. “Looking forward to meeting her. Just hope I can keep up with your high expectations mate!” As he hit send, Daniel couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that lingered in the air.

Daniel's phone buzzed again with a response from Martin, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the playful banter that ensued. “Oh, don't worry,” Martin's message read, “I have complete faith in you. Just be yourself, that’s all you need”

Daniel grinned at his friend's confidence. Despite not knowing much about this mysterious woman, he couldn't deny the thrill of anticipation that coursed through his veins. With a sense of determination, he resolved to make the most of this opportunity, determined to leave a lasting impression on whoever this enigmatic figure turned out to be.

Little did he know, this chance encounter would set the stage for a fateful meeting that would change the course of his life in ways he never could have imagined.

As the sleek black car pulled up to the curb outside The Bowery Hotel, the pulsating energy of New York City's nightlife enveloped us like a warm embrace. Stepping out onto the bustling sidewalk, we were greeted by the soft glow of string lights and the distant hum of music drifting from the rooftop above.

Linking arms, we made our way through the elegant lobby of the hotel, the click of our heels echoing against the polished marble floors. Excitement crackled in the air as we rode the elevator to the top floor, anticipation mounting with each passing moment.

As the doors slid open to reveal the rooftop terrace bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights, we were met with a breathtaking view of the city skyline glittering against the night sky. The sound of laughter and conversation filled the air, mingling with the infectious beat of the music that pulsed through the crowd.

We stepped out onto the terrace and navigated through the crowd, the scent of champagne and laughter filled the air; our eyes alight with wonder as we took in the scene before us. The air was alive with the hum of excitement for the new year ahead.

Finding a secluded corner of the rooftop, I paused and craned my neck in search of the blond responsible for me being away from my cozy apartment that night. I spotted him talking with some people near where his set was set up. When our eyes met, he waved enthusiastically, his excitement palpable even from a distance.

Exchanging quick pleasantries, Martin excused himself from the group he was chatting with, his strides purposeful as he made his way towards our little circle. With a grin that could light up the entire city, Martin reached our group, his charismatic presence immediately drawing us in. “Ladies, you look stunning tonight,” he greeted us with a cheeky smile on his face, “and well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” he teased, his voice laced with playful banter as he directed his attention towards me.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes in mock exasperation, a smirk playing at the corners of my lips. “I had four people ganging up on me, Martin, I couldn't exactly resist for long” I replied, my tone teasing as I shot him a playful glare.

Martin chuckled, his laughter infectious as he leaned in to give me a playful nudge. “That's what I like to hear! Now, let's show you what you almost missed by being a grumpy old lady tonight,” he exclaimed, his enthusiasm contagious as he gestured towards the bustling rooftop party surrounding us.

Half an hour later, Daniel made his way through the vibrant crowd, his eyes scanning the faces around him, he caught sight of Martin amidst the sea of revelers. With a nod of recognition, he approached his friend, a curious glint in his eyes. 

Martin turned towards him with a grin, anticipation dancing in his eyes. “Hey! What’s up, mate?” he gave him a quick hug. “She's already here," Martin exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement.

Daniel's interest was piqued, and he glanced around the crowded rooftop, searching for any indication of who Martin was referring to. “Oh, really?” Daniel replied, his curiosity evident in his tone.

Martin nodded eagerly, but instead of gesturing towards our group, he simply smiled mysteriously. “Yep, but I'll introduce you later. Duty calls,” he said with a shrug, gesturing towards the stage where he was needed.

Daniel's brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but he simply nodded in understanding as Martin hurried off to fulfill his obligations. 

Martin's cryptic reply intrigued Daniel, sparking his curiosity further. He decided not to dwell on it for too long. With a shrug, he turned his attention back to the lively atmosphere of the party, eager to enjoy the night ahead. As he mingled with his friends, his thoughts occasionally drifted back to Martin's enigmatic words, wondering who exactly the DJ was referring to and what significance they held. But for now, he was content to simply soak in the excitement of the moment and let the night unfold as it may.

As Daniel's gaze lazily scanned the room, it landed on a group of vibrant individuals, among whom stood a figure that instantly commanded his attention. His eyes locked onto hers, and he felt a jolt of electricity course through him as their gazes met. In that fleeting moment, the noise of the party faded into the background, and all he could focus on was the captivating presence of the woman before him. Despite the nagging reminder of his supposed obligation to meet someone else, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, his curiosity piqued and his interest unmistakably piqued.

Throughout the night, I found myself engaged in conversation with Selena and both of our friend groups, along with a few others who had approached us. However, the initial excitement I had felt was beginning to wane as my social battery ran low. I forced laughter and plastered on fake smiles as the people around us tried to create conversation, drawn to us for our status and connections rather than genuine friendship. My walls were up and I couldn’t help but be filled with nostalgia for the days when I effortlessly navigated the social whirlwind. God knows how I was able to endure all that, but now, that shiny façade of fame no longer held the appeal it once had. My eyes kept shifting around the multitude, trying to find an escape in the midst of the bustling party. Martin had to leave us after a while to greet other people that I’m sure he also invited. And now he was on the stage making sure everything was ready for the show, so that ruled him out of the equation. 

I found myself wishing I could channel Fio's bold attitude, and just tell all these phonies to go pal’ carajo. She had this undeniable strength and fearlessness about her that I envied. I couldn't imagine myself possessing even a fraction of her confidence. Yet, all of these thoughts melted away when my gaze landed on his face across the rooftop.

In that moment, it felt as though the chaos around me dissipated, leaving only him in sharp focus. Our eyes met, and a smile graced his lips, instantly captivating me. There was something magnetic about him, an inexplicable allure that drew me in without a word spoken.

His smile held a warmth that felt achingly familiar, as if we shared some unspoken connection that transcended the bounds of time and place. With each passing moment, his gaze seemed to deepen, as though delving into the depths of my soul with a silent question: “Have we met before?” It was a question that echoed in the recesses of my mind, sparking a curiosity that I couldn't shake.

As I stood there, locked in this wordless exchange, I couldn't help but wonder about the secrets hidden behind those piercing eyes. Despite the throng of people around us, it felt as though we were the only two souls in the room, bound together by an invisible thread of fate.

Suddenly, his silhouette cut through the crowd, moving with purpose and determination. With each step he took, my heart quickened its pace, anticipation rising in tandem with the rhythm of my pulse. The air crackled with a silent energy and I found myself holding my breath caught in the gravity of his presence. The distance between us narrowed, until finally, he stood before me, his eyes locking onto mine with a magnetic intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

As he extended his hand towards me, a rush of warmth flooded through me, tingling at the touch of his skin against mine. “Hey,” he said, his voice smooth and resonant, sending a ripple of anticipation coursing through me. “I'm Daniel.” His name rolled off his tongue with a certain charm and a twinge of an accent, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to him even more. 

“Hi” I managed to say, attempting to regain my composure. “I'm Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue with a hint of curiosity. “Lovely name for a lovely lady.”

I could feel my cheeks flush at his compliment. “Thanks,” I replied, trying to play it cool. The spell broke for a moment as he suddenly realized that there was a group of people staring at him, his own cheeks seemed to redden for a second but he recovered fast and greeted them with a radiant smile. I couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with such effortless charm. The realization sinked in that this wasn't just any charming stranger – holy shit, this was Daniel Ricciardo, the Formula 1 driver. 

A playful glint danced in his eyes as his eyes drifted back to me, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His easy charm catched me off guard, and I found myself blushing involuntarily. I stole a quick glance at my friends, who shot me knowing looks, clearly amused by my reaction. It's as if they could read my mind, teasing me silently. 

Okay Y/N, keep your cool. He is just a dude, I thought as I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. He is a gorgeous, smoking hot dude with a megawatt smile who smells wonderful. ¡Agh, mierda!. 

Yeah, I was fucked. I guessed it was time to put those acting skills to use.

“So, Daniel, what brings you to this fabulous party?” I tilted my head as I asked, I prayed it came out in a flirty but nonchalant way and not in a way that revealed the nervous flutter in my stomach. Daniel grinned, his gaze lingered on me. “Well, a friend insisted that I come, said it was going to be the party of the year. And, I must say, meeting someone as captivating as you was an unexpected bonus.”

A light blush spreaded across my cheeks at his words, and I glanced away momentarily, trying to regain my composure. “Flattery will get you everywhere, won't it?”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I certainly hope so.”

I chuckled, trying to play it cool. “Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Challenge accepted,” he replied, leaning in closer. With a playful smirk, he asked, “But first, would you like to grab a drink?”

The playful exchange between us continued as we made our way towards the bar, the atmosphere around us seemingly faded into the background as we became engrossed in each other's company.

Our playful banter flowed effortlessly, each quip and witty remark met with a matching response from the other. It's like we were in our own little world, oblivious to the party swirling around us as we exchanged jokes and anecdotes. There's something about him that feels like coming home, yet I know we've never crossed paths before. His genuine smile and easygoing demeanor put me at ease, and I found myself opening up to him more than I had in a long time. 

We both paused to stare at the DJ in his element, the corners of my mouth turned up when the Dutchy’s words ringed in my head: I almost missed this by being a grumpy old lady. I glanced over to find him already fixated on me, he smiled at me softly and a soft flutter danced in the pit of my stomach as I caught his eyes lingering on my lips. Was it just my imagination, or did the air around us suddenly crackle with an electric charge?

I tried to keep my tone light, “So, what's been the highlight of your evening so far?”

“If you’d asked me this about two hours ago I’d say the good vibes and great company,” he replied smoothly, his gaze never leaving mine. “But now that I've found you, I think I've found the best part of the evening.”

“Oh, stop it,” I chuckled, feeling my cheeks warm further.

“I mean it,” he insisted, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. “You've got this magnetic energy about you. I couldn't resist coming over to say hi.”

I felt a flutter in my stomach at his words. “Well, I'm glad you did,” I replied, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “It's nice to meet someone genuine at a party like this.”

Daniel grinned, leaning in a little closer. “Tell me about it. Most people here seem more interested in flashing cameras and rubbing elbows with celebrities than having a real conversation.”

I nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of relief wash over me that he felt the same way. “Exactly. It's refreshing to find someone who values authenticity.”

His smile widened. “Well, authenticity is my middle name,” he quipped, earning a laugh from me.

“Is it really?” I teased back, raising an eyebrow playfully.

He chuckled softly. “Not quite, but close enough,” he replied. The sound of his laughter was like music to my ears, washing over me in gentle waves. I couldn't help but smile in return, feeling a warmth spread through me at the sight of his genuine amusement. There was something so effortlessly charming about him, something that made it impossible not to be drawn to him.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Martin, from his place behind his console, grabbed the microphone, sending a burst of excitement through the crowd. The music softened, and all eyes turned towards him, eager to hear what he had to say. With a smile, he leaned into the mic.

“Alright, everyone! Get ready, because we're about to kick off the countdown to the new year!” his voice boomed over the speakers, igniting cheers and applause.

Daniel and I exchanged surprised glances, realizing how swiftly time had slipped away during our conversation. A sheepish grin spread across our faces as we chuckled at the realization.

“Wow, can you believe it?” Daniel exclaimed, his eyes wide with amazement.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I replied, “I know, right? It feels like we just got here!”

But despite our astonishment, there was an undeniable excitement in the air as we eagerly awaited the start of the countdown. Time may have slipped away unnoticed, but we were more than ready to welcome the new year with open arms.

With the pulsating energy of the crowd and the anticipation building up, Martin's announcement seemed to mark a pivotal moment in the night. It was as if time paused for just a brief moment, allowing us to reflect on the year gone by and the possibilities that lay ahead.

As the countdown began, the atmosphere on the terrace grew electric. Each second ticking by felt charged with anticipation, drawing us closer to the threshold of a new beginning. Daniel and I joined in with the crowd, counting down in unison as the numbers on the screen dwindled.

“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!” The voices around us echoed, filling the place with excitement and joy.

As the final seconds ticked away before the stroke of midnight, I stole a moment to scan the crowd, searching for familiar faces amidst the sea of revelers. My gaze locked onto Fio, Vitto, and Danna, who were huddled together nearby. Fio, ever perceptive, caught my gaze first. With a playful nudge to Vitto and Danna, she directed their attention towards me, and they turned in unison, their eyes met mine with knowing looks and a mischievous grin spread across their faces.

With playful antics, they puckered their lips in exaggerated kissy faces, teasing me in a lighthearted manner. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at their antics, a light blush tinting my cheeks in response to their jovial teasing.

Amidst the playful exchange, a fleeting thought crossed my mind. I wondered, for just a moment, if perhaps Daniel, standing closer than before, was considering the same playful gesture. But before I could dwell on the thought, the clock struck midnight, and the room erupted into cheers and celebration.

As the cheers filled the air, Daniel and I turned to each other with shy smiles, caught up in the infectious excitement of the moment. “Happy New Year,” we said simultaneously, our voices barely audible above the din of the crowd.

For a brief moment, there was a subtle shift in the air, a silent pause that seemed to linger between us. In that fleeting instant, it felt as if time slowed down, and I found myself meeting Daniel's gaze, our eyes locking in a silent exchange filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

There was a palpable tension, a delicate balance hanging in the air, as if both of us were teetering on the edge of something unspoken. In that moment, it seemed as though Daniel might lean in, his movements tentative and hesitant, as if contemplating a gesture that could change everything.

Was he gonna kiss me? Oh, I wouldn’t be mad if he stole a kiss. 

Or several.

But then, just as quickly as the moment had arisen, it passed. With a soft smile and a gentle nod, Daniel seemed to reconsider, pulling back slightly as if to preserve the moment's delicate equilibrium. And in that simple gesture, the unspoken understanding between us remained.

As the moment hung in the air between Daniel and me, on the brink of something uncertain, the sounds of joyous screams suddenly pierced through the atmosphere, drawing our attention away.

Before I could fully process what was happening, I felt warm arms wrap around me, pulling me into an exuberant embrace. It was the girls, Fio, Vitto, and Danna, their laughter mingling with the cheers of the crowd as they enveloped me in their enthusiastic greeting.

"Happy New Year!" they exclaimed in unison, their voices filled with genuine warmth and excitement.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the timing of their arrival, grateful for the distraction from the almost-kiss tension that had begun to linger between Daniel and me. With their infectious energy and playful banter, they effortlessly diffused the slight awkwardness that had threatened to overshadow the moment.

As we exchanged hugs and well wishes, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for their timely intervention. In their presence, the lingering tension dissipated, replaced by a sense of sisterhood and shared joy.

And as we laughed and celebrated together, I couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps some moments were meant to be savored, not rushed. Whatever the future held for Daniel and me, I knew that in that moment, I was exactly where I was meant to be.

With infectious enthusiasm, the girls dragged me towards the terrace railings, eager to get a better view of the fireworks illuminating the night sky. Laughing and chatting animatedly, we leaned against the railing, our eyes fixed on the colorful explosions lighting up the darkness.

As we marveled at the spectacle unfolding before us, Daniel excused himself with a smile, promising to join us in just a moment. I watched him disappear into the crowd, his easy charm drawing smiles and greetings from everyone he came across.

Alone for a brief moment amidst the excitement of the celebration, I took a deep breath, allowing myself to soak in the energy of the night. The air was alive with anticipation, the promise of new beginnings hanging in the air like a tangible presence.

And as the fireworks continued to paint the sky with bursts of color and light, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the moments shared with friends, old and new. In that fleeting moment of tranquility, amidst the chaos of the celebration, I found solace in the knowledge that no matter where life took us, our bonds would always endure, guiding us through the highs and lows of the journey ahead. I felt grateful to call these incredible women my friends. And as the last remnants of the fireworks faded into the night, I turned to raise my glass in a toast with the girls following, my heart full with the promise of the new year ahead.

Just as I turned back to try and catch a glimpse of a certain Aussie in the crowd, Daniel appeared at my side with a warm smile. His eyes sparkled with the residual excitement of the celebration, and his easygoing demeanor put me at ease.

“Hey there,” he greeted me, his voice carrying over the lingering echoes of the fireworks. “Did you enjoy the show?”

I returned his smile with a nod, the exhilaration of the moment still coursing through my veins. “It was amazing,” I replied, my voice filled with genuine awe. “I can't believe how quickly the year flew by.”

Daniel chuckled softly, his gaze drifting towards the horizon where the last traces of the fireworks faded into the darkness. “Yeah, 2019 feels like it was yesterday,” he quipped, a playful twist to his words.

I couldn't help but laugh at his silly joke, shaking my head in amusement. Despite its simplicity, his humor didn’t fail to bring a smile to my face. And as my laughter echoed into the night, I noticed Daniel's own smile widening, his eyes alight with infectious joy.

As my laughter subsided, Daniel's eyes softened, his gaze lingering on me with a warmth that sent a flutter through my chest. In the soft glow of the terrace lights, his features seemed to soften, his smile taking on a tender quality.

“You know,” he began, his voice gentle, “you look absolutely beautiful under the firework lights.”

A blush rose to my cheeks at his words, a rush of warmth spreading through me at the unexpected compliment. It was a simple gesture, but it carried a weight of sincerity that touched me deeply.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, but filled with genuine appreciation.

Daniel's gaze held mine for a moment longer, his expression softening even further as he had the purest beam of light on his face that made my heart melt.  “Actually,” he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “you outshine even the fireworks themselves.”

A surprised chuckle escaped my lips, and I could feel my cheeks flush with a warmth that spread from his endearing words. His unexpected compliment caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless.

It was such a simple yet profoundly sweet sentiment, and it took me by surprise in the best possible way.

As Daniel's sweet words lingered in the air, a comfortable silence settled between us, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the continuing celebration. It was a couple minutes after midnight, and there were already a couple resolutions broken.

I couldn't help but chuckle softly at the thought, the warmth of Daniel's presence enveloping me like a comforting embrace. Despite the inevitable imperfections of the past year, there was a sense of hope and possibility lingering in the air for this new one, a reminder that every moment held the potential for growth and renewal.

We continued to chat and laugh as we made our way to one of the high tables to continue our conversation in a more comfortable setting. Martin even made an appearance, greeting us with his usual kind and friendly attitude. A shit-eating grin adorned his face as he saw us talking. He inconspicuously winked at me which prompted me to affectionately roll my eyes. 

Okay Martin, I get it, you were right...again. 

But one curious thing happened when Martin approached. I noticed a flicker of apology in Daniel's eyes, a subtle shift in his demeanor that caught my attention. Confused, I glanced at him, wondering what had prompted this sudden change. It wasn't until much later that I would come to understand the reason behind his apologetic expression.

Unbeknownst to me, Daniel had misunderstood Martin's intentions, believing that the girl he had spoken to him about was someone else entirely. In his mind, there was no connection between Martin's matchmaking scheme and the girl he had been conversing with all along—me.

And so, we were unaware of the intricate web of plans and schemes being woven around us. Little did I know, the seeds of something special had already been planted, waiting to bloom and blossom in the days and weeks to come.

A while later, one of the waiters passed by, weaving through the crowd. Seizing the opportunity, Daniel called out to him, “Excuse me, do you have a pen?”

The waiter nodded and swiftly produced one, handing it over with a friendly smile. Once he left, Daniel grabbed a napkin from the table and quickly sketched out a tic-tac-toe grid with the pen. With a mischievous grin, he declared, “Let's make a deal. If I win, you have to give me your number.”

I couldn't help but laugh at his spontaneous challenge, the playful glint in his eyes infectious. “Alright, you're on,” I replied, picking up the pen to make my first move. 

“But,” I paused with a smirk. I raised an eyebrow at Daniel, unable to suppress a playful grin. “What do I get if I win?” I challenged him, my tone teasing and light. 

Daniel's lips curled into a flirtatious smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well,” he replied, leaning in closer with a playful glint in his eyes, “if you win, you get my number instead.”

His response elicited another laugh from me, the playful banter adding to the already vibrant energy between us. With a nod of agreement, I made my move, determined to give him a run for his money.

However, despite my best efforts, Daniel proved to be a formidable opponent—athletes do tend to have another level of competitiveness after all, even with the smallest and silliest things—, and before I knew it, he had emerged victorious, marking the final square with a triumphant flourish.

With a mock sigh of defeat, I conceded, acknowledging his win with good humor. “Alright, you got me,” I chuckled, conceding to his victory. “Looks like I owe you my number.”

With a pleased smile he passed me his phone. As I began typing my number into Daniel's phone, focused on the task at hand, I felt a sudden movement beside me. Glancing up, I saw Daniel grab another napkin, his expression mischievous as he quickly scribbled something onto it. 

Curious, I watched as he slid the napkin across the table towards me. My eyes widened in surprise as I read the words written in his handwriting: “You are cute.”

A warmth spread through me at his unexpected gesture, a rush of flattered excitement tingling in my veins. With a playful smile, I looked up to meet his gaze, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

“Smooth move,” I teased, unable to hide the smile that danced on my lips. “But I think you've already won me over with your charm.”

As I finished adding my number to his phone, I slid it back across the table towards him. With a grin, Daniel accepted his phone back, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction at my response. “Can't blame a bloke for trying,” he quipped, his tone light and playful. 

The playful energy between us only seemed to intensify and I found myself drawn further into the magnetic pull of Daniel's presence, captivated by his whiskey-colored eyes that held a depth that seemed to unravel the secrets of the universe. And when he spoke, his Australian accent danced with a melodic cadence that resonated deep within my soul, infusing every word with a warmth and charm that was impossible to resist.

But it wasn't just his accent that captivated me—it was his carefree personality, his easygoing demeanor that made every moment feel effortless and free. He laughed with abandon, his infectious joy spreading like wildfire and igniting a spark of laughter within me.

And then there were his hands, expressive and animated as he spoke, each gesture painting a vivid picture of his thoughts and emotions. It was as if his hands had a language of their own, weaving tales of adventures that left me hanging on his every word.

Just as the party was reaching its peak and the energy in the room soared, one of the girls came up to me with a sense of urgency in her expression. “Hey babes, we need to head out already,” she informed me, a hint of regret in her voice.

My heart sank at the sudden announcement, realizing the abrupt end to the evening's festivities. With a mixture of disappointment and resignation, I turned to Daniel, silently conveying my apologies with a glance.

“I'm sorry, but Vitto's had a bit too much to drink,” Danna explained, her tone apologetic as she gestured towards our intoxicated companion. “We need to get her home.”

There was a flicker of disappointment in Daniel's eyes, mirrored by my own sense of frustration at the untimely interruption.

With a sympathetic smile, Daniel nodded in understanding, his expression reflecting a mixture of disappointment and acceptance. “Of course, safety first,” he replied, his voice filled with empathy. “Take care, and hopefully, we'll see each other again soon.”

As I exchanged final farewells with Daniel, a pang of regret lingered in the air, accompanied by the bittersweet realization that our time together had been cut short. Yet, amidst the disappointment, there was a glimmer of hope, a silent promise of future encounters.

With a nod of gratitude, I turned to join my friends. And as I reached the girls, I couldn't help but sigh softly, my concern for Vitto mixing with a hint of amusement. “Ay, Vitto,” I murmured, shaking my head in disbelief at how quickly she had managed to get drunk in just an hour.

Vitto, in her intoxicated state, offered a drunken apology and let out a soft laugh, her carefree demeanor infectious. “Sorry,” she slurred, her words accompanied by a playful giggle.

I couldn't help but smile at her antics, reassured by her good spirits despite the unexpected turn of events. “It's okay,” I assured her, placing an arm around her shoulder. “Let's get you home safely.”

As I turned to leave, I couldn't resist stealing a last glimpse back at Daniel. To my surprise, I found him still staring at me, his smile widening as he waved goodbye. A rush of warmth flooded through me at the sight.

On our way home, the girls couldn't resist teasing me about Daniel, joking about how we had spent the whole night together. Their playful banter only served to deepen my blush, fueling the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. The city lights blurred into a mosaic of colors outside the car window and the laughter of the girls faded into the background as I found myself lost in the memory of Daniel's captivating smile, the warmth of his gaze still lingering in the corners of my mind.

I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something truly special about that smile, something that lingered long after the party had ended and the night had grown quiet. To me, it wasn't just any smile—it was warm, genuine, and filled with an undeniable spark that seemed to reach straight into my soul. It was a smile that spoke volumes, conveying a sense of understanding, a twinge of mischief, and unspoken promise that left me breathless with anticipation.

With a soft sigh, I couldn't help but reflect on the serendipitous twist of fate that had brought us together tonight. In that brief moment of connection, amidst the music and laughter, I had felt a spark of something special—a connection that defied explanation and left me yearning for more.

And as I stared out into the night, the city lights twinkling like stars in the darkness, I knew that I would carry the memory of that encounter with me forever. In that moment, meeting him felt like a spell had been cast upon me, capturing my heart in an instant.

The thought made a soft smile tug at the corners of my lips, my heart fluttering with the anticipation of what the future might hold.

At the end of the night, all I knew was, 

Daniel, I was enchanted to meet you.

[thedinanshiral]

What's in a name? A (very) simple guide to find your Rook's name.

I’ve seen some people are wondering how some of us already have named Rooks, others have no idea how to get names or which names could be good, and since i kinda overdid it and have 11 Rooks already planned and named i thought i’d share some of my process and drop some ideas. This works for me, but maybe it can help others find their Rook’s name(s).

Keep in mind these are also fantasy names, they don’t have to make sense or have a specific meaning, you can literally make them up. I also take into consideration known naming conventions, for example in Elven we have Solas and Abelas’ names, with specific meanings (Pride, Sorrow) and judging by what Solas tells Abelas, it’d seem ancient elvhen would change their names according to roles or events in their life. Similarly in the Qun, we know their names aren’t names as we understand them but simply descriptors of the role that is assigned to them within the Qun.

It’s probably easier when it comes to human nations in Thedas: Orlesians are likely to have French names, Fereldans to have anglo names, Antivans to have Spanish and Italian names. Tevinter is a bit trickier because it’s based on the Roman empire and Latin is a pretty dead language, but they sure liked to make records so we have names there too.

Elvhen names:

I literally opened a tab with the Elven language DA wiki page and read everything -for the bazillionth time tbh-; DA elven language is a cipher, not a conlang, so feel free to make things up because we don’t have the full cipher -i’m not even sure BW does- .

For Elven names i check the wiki for words that i like the sound of, the meaning of, ideally both. If i feel something is “missing” i may add a letter or combine different words into a new one.

Here are some examples:

Athima, from athim, humility

Atisha, from Atish'an, atisha is peace

Sethena, from Sethen'a or Setheneran, land of waking dreams or where the veil is thin, aka the Fade.

Revaren, from Revas, freedom, and Renan, voice.

Alasan, from alas, earth/dirt, and suffix an, place.

Sulahni, from sulahn, sing.

Samahli, from samahl, laughter.

Vardanehn, lit. Our little joy.

Mir'as, Banal'ras is shadows, implying ras refers to light, Mir is mine. Lit. "my light".

Qunlat names:

Same process as elven, but trying to modify as less as possible, keeping in mind the Qunari are very rigid in their ways and can be very literal as well.

Anaan, victory

Asaarash, rivaini horsebreed used by the antaam.

Kaaras, navigator.

Asaara-kaaras, wind navigator, wind rider.

Saar, dangerous. Saar-asaara, dangerous wind. Saar-meraad, dangerous tide.

Sata-kasi, mauler.

Vattic-kos, vat is fire, tic is cold and kos refers to nature damage, all three words are in reference to damage done with a mage staff. So Vattic-kos could be elemental damage.

Shokra, shok is struggle or war, shokrakar is rebel.

Antivan names:

These were way easier as i’m Latina of Spanish and Italian descent which in this case feels a bit like cheating. I think any Spanish and Italian name could work, these are just some i like.

Vittoria/Victoria

Chiara

Alessandro/a

Stefan

Dante

Aria

Tevinter names:

I literally googled for Latin names for this one, and also checked previous Tevinter characters’ names. Some of this could also work for an Antivan Rook.

Aelius

Amadis

Bastian

Caelus

Camilla

Dena

Dante

Desideria

Ella

Enora

Favian

Fausto, Faustino, Faustus

Gaius

Gloria

Grazia

Klaudia

Laurena

Lavinia

Liberia

Merit/Mérita/Mérito

Remus

Salena

Sarina

Sidonia

Sollemnia

Tatius

Terentius

Tiberius

Urbano, Urbanus

Valentio

Varinia

Viatrix

Virgilio, Virgil

Vitus

Xandros

I’m leaving out the numerals like Primo, Segundo, Quintus, Octavio... check Cesars' names, that could work too. I think you could just search the scientific name of any fauna (hello House Pavus) or flora and pick whatever sounds nice too. Also we recently got a new Magister’s name in the Dragon Age: Vows & Vengeance trailer, Magister Andante. Y’know what “Andante” means? Walking. Magister Walking. Fear nothing and go wild with these names, seriously.

You could also check other cultures and native names, respectfully of course. Here are some guaraní and mapuche names i like, i didn’t modify these at all.

Kerana, guaraní “goddess of sleep”, or sleepy one.

Karai, guaraní, “respectable man”.

Luriel, guaraní, “lord of the wind”.

Amaru, guaraní, “rain”.

Anahí, guaraní, from a legend, the name of a young woman burned at the stake by the conquistadors, after which she is transformed into the flowering tree.

Newén, mapuche, "strength"

Nahuel, mapuche, “jaguar”

Ayelén, mapuche, “laughing”.

Tahiel, mapuche, “hombre libre”

For Dwarven names, i am deeply sorry i haven't decided on a Dwarf Rook yet so i haven't done my dwarven research, but the same process applies: check the canon dwarf names we got so far, if the lore says anything about dwarven naming conventions, if they're a commoner or noble, if there are caste-specific names too, and so on. And if you want to name your dwarf Rook Bob, that's fine too! ( if DUNE can have Paul and Jessica, why couldn't we have a dwarf named Bob?? like i said, go wild, name freely, be happy)

I understand some people don't want to or aren't sure about naming their Rooks until we learn what the different canon surnames will be, and i totally get that, i felt the same way. But i couldn't resist until we got that info so i overdid it, particularly with my Tevinter-Nevarran mage whose name i picked clearly inspired by Cassandra's full name, only for me to end up calling her by the first of her five names that i kinda struggle to remember. So far we've only seen one canon surname, "Thorne", and since surnames are defined by factions, Thorne seems to be the Grey Wardens' canon surname. The elf Grey Warden champion seen in the recent high-level combat gameplay is named Esha Thorne.

I think maybe surnames should depend on what they're now calling lineage (elven, qunari, human, dwarf) rather than on factions, or they could have offered options, one per lineage and one per faction, and let us decide which one to keep. An elf named Thorne sounds a bit odd to me, even if they're a Grey Warden. Will any of my chosen names match the canon surnames? Probably not, but at least i had fun while naming them. My only GW for now is Favian and Favian Thorne doesn't sound bad.

Anyway, I hope this helps those who are a bit lost to find names that works for you and your Rooks, have fun!

[tethrras]

a soft place to land

vittoria de riva x lucanis dellamorte. 2.7k. fluff, hurt/comfort, flirting. click here to read on ao3.

-

Vittoria is no stranger to loneliness.

It keeps her bed cold and her nights quiet. Sometimes she’s grateful for it and other times the longing for something more, the same longing she’s felt since childhood, threatens to strangle her. But she’s a Crow, and Crows can’t afford connections like that, so she doesn’t complain and instead spends long nights sharpening her blades in silence. Sharpening blades or, when she feels longing’s hands tightening around her neck, sitting in the window of her apartment in the canal district and watching the civilians of the city go about their lives.

“Her” apartment isn’t her apartment at all. It’s an abandoned apartment overlooking the market that no one has lived in for what seems like a decade, if not longer. She found it after one of her first contracts, and it’s the only place in Treviso that she can escape to without feeling the need to look over her shoulder for Viago. On nights she can’t sleep and doesn’t want to think or train, she scales the surface of the tower and settles in the window, letting the heartbeat of Treviso lull her into something that might resemble sleep. Visiting the apartment is what she misses most about home, and after seeing what happened to Minrathous, after hearing about what's happening in the South, she wants to visit it again. Who knows if - who knows when - it’ll be the last time?

She intends to head for the Eluvian with little fanfare - the others don’t need to know about her trip - but when she reaches the bottom of the staircase in the library, she finds Lucanis sitting on a chair with a cup of coffee in his hand and a book open in his lap. He looks up at her as her footsteps slow to a stop.

“De Riva.”

“Dellamorte.”

Vittoria shifts her weight from one foot to the other as a slight smile creases Lucanis’s lips.

“You’re going out.” He appraises her armor with a raised brow. She should’ve cleaned it earlier like she had meant to…

“I am.” Vittoria rests her hand on the hilt of her sword. “But I won’t be gone for long.”

“Where to?”

“Home,” she answers, then, “Treviso. Ever since we got back from Minrathous…”

He glances down at his lap then. “I know.”

She can tell he feels as she does - guilt for what happened to Minrathous, to the Shadow Dragons, to Neve, but gratefulness that the same - or worse - didn’t happen to Treviso. It’s a poor consolation, but consolation at all is priceless in times like this. 

Vittoria clears her throat. “Would you…”

“Would I what?”

“Um. Nothing,” she insists, shaking her head. Of course he wouldn’t want to come with her - he’s clearly in the middle of something. She’s not sure she wants company, either. “Anyway, I won’t be long. If anyone asks for me -”

“Were you going to ask me if I’d like to come with you?”

“... No.”

“Then what were you going to ask?”

She knows very well that Lucanis didn’t know who she was before she rescued him from the Ossuary, despite the two decades that she has spent with the Crows. It continues to surprise her that he understands her better than Viago ever has after only a month or two. No wonder he’s such a good assassin - he’s very good at reading his mark. She clears her throat. “Alright,” she confesses. “I was.”

“I thought so.” He stands up, takes a long sip from his teacup, and then places it down on the saucer. “Let me get my things. I will meet you at the Eluvian.”

He doesn’t leave her waiting long, and they travel home through the Crossroads in companionable silence. Vittoria can’t help but glance over at him from time to time. While he didn’t notice her in the past, she certainly noticed him - she even thought she had been in love with him once, though she’s sure now that she didn’t know what love meant. Or means. But he and Illario had a life that all Crow recruits wanted for themselves, and Vittoria had been one of them. The acclaim. The attention from the Talons. The inherent talent. When she was younger, she thought that having the attention of someone like Lucanis would’ve made her life easier - easier than the attention from Viago, anyway - and she strove for years to get that attention. She grew out of it eventually, and then, of course, he died, and whatever leftover feelings she might have had died with him. But now, the fact that not only is he alive, but that she was the one to save him… Sometimes it doesn’t feel real, and she always catches herself looking at him to make sure he’s really here.

“We’re not going to the Diamond,” she says when the two of them reach the Treviso Eluvian. “If you wanted to check in with Teia and Viago...”

“Hm. Then where are we going?”

“I have a place in the city that I go to. I consider it… well… a home. Of sorts. I wanted to make sure it was still standing, after…”

Lucanis nods. “I understand. But maybe we can check in with Teia and Viago while we’re here…” At Vittoria’s wince, he gives her a smile. “Or not.”

“Thank you.” There is a part of her that loves Viago, however complicated and repressed that part is, but the last thing she needs right now is a lecture.

“Of course. No one understands the desire to avoid Viago as well as I do, believe me.”

She steps through the Eluvian with Lucanis on her heels. 

Most of the Crows are asleep for the night, so the two of them meet no resistance at the Casino, and from there she leads him through the familiar streets in silence. It’s a short walk, though, and soon enough she’s standing at the base of the apartment building and refreshing herself on her usual footholds. She hasn’t been here since before she saved Varric all those months ago, and she would hate to fall to her death from the building that she’s scaled more than any other - in front of Lucanis, no less. To her relief, the tower doesn’t seem to have suffered in the face of the dragon attack. She glances back at her companion, who is staring up at the surface of the building the same way she had been moments ago.

“It’s not as tall as it looks,” she reassures him.

He meets her gaze. “Good thing I have wings.”

Vittoria has been climbing her whole life. As a child, she would spend hours scaling trees until she reached the top and could settle down in the branches with a book or wooden toy that she had stolen from one of her siblings. By the time she was six, she could scale the tallest tree on her family’s farm in one breath. When she first arrived in Antiva, it was the only thing that made her suited to the life of a Crow - everything else, the fighting and the thick skin and the iron stomach, came later. So climbing is second nature to her, and in no time, she’s heaving herself through the window and rolling onto the floor of her apartment. Lucanis follows. They stand up from the ground, dust themselves off, and meet each other’s eyes.

“This is it.” She says it more awkwardly than she’d meant to, and winces at herself. She thought she’d gotten over her infatuation with him - she doesn’t dwell on those old feelings when they’re working together side-by-side, killing Antaam and Venatori and Sentinels - but now that it’s the two of them, alone in an abandoned apartment with no gods or dragons for miles around, that soft spot of her heart feels rubbed raw. She turns away from him. “I’ve been coming here for years,” she says again. “I’m glad to see it’s still standing.”

Lucanis looks around curiously, and Vittoria does, too, to familiarize herself with the apartment again. There’s a bookshelf with a few books in it - books that she bought from the market herself, but can’t remember the contents of now - and a collection of knives sitting on a stool next to a well-worn whetstone. Above the stool is a series of scratches on the wall, each scratch representing one of her successful contracts. There must be more than a hundred scratches, but she’s not sure if he’d consider that a high or low number, so she resists the urge to call attention to it. 

On one side of the room is the window from which she can see the market, and on the wall opposite is the window from which she can see the whole of Treviso spilling over the hills on the horizon, its silver spires sparkling in the moonlight. Lucanis lingers here, standing still for a long moment. When he speaks, it shatters the silence.

“I have never seen Treviso like this.”

“I haven’t seen it like this for a long time.”

She brushes past him and sits on the edge of the window. It’s what she would do if she were alone, after all, and that’s what she had been coming here to do - to be alone, to calm herself and soothe her nerves of steel. Even though she knows she won’t be able to do those things now that he’s here with her, she’s still going to pretend that she can. And it’s easy, because for a long, long moment, neither of them move. It's only when she turns her head to look at him that he sits down on the windowsill across from her, stretching his legs out until his feet are nearly in her lap.

She used to dream of this. Of sitting across from Lucanis, fighting alongside him, of him knowing her name and… knowing even more than that. When she was little, she always imagined what she would tell someone if they asked her about her childhood in Ferelden, and for some reason, sitting across from him, she feels the words leaving her mouth before she can think about it. “When I arrived in Antiva, all I could think about was how different it was from Ferelden. I hated it at first.” But even the word hate doesn’t capture her feelings, because she spent most nights in the year or two after she arrived sobbing in her bed until the other recruits realized that hitting her hard enough could convince her to be quiet. “But I can’t remember what Ferelden looks like anymore. I can’t remember my family. All I know is Antiva, Treviso, Salle. The Crows. Viago. If Ghilan’nain’s dragon had…”

Vittoria glances over at Lucanis. He seems focused on something in the distance, but she notices him shift in his seat and straighten up when she looks for long enough.

“Did you recognize me?” She doesn’t know why she asks him this, but she does. “In the Ossuary?”

Lucanis shakes his head. “I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t think you did.”

“But I wish that I had.” He turns to face her. “I don’t know how I never noticed you before, truthfully.”

“And why is that?”

He smiles again, and she resists the urge to glance back out the window. “You are an impressive woman, Vittoria.” 

“Well.” She clears her throat. She doesn’t know what “impressive” means to him, if it means what she thinks it means or what it should mean or if it means something else, but her face flushes nevertheless. “I’ve worked hard to be.”

At that, his smile sours. “You know… You take very good care of us. Of the team. But I hope you don’t think that we can’t be there for you the way that you - ”

“I didn’t invite you here to give me a motivational speech.”

“Ah. You didn’t invite me at all, remember? I had to tease it out of you.”

Her face flushes even more at the word “tease”. 

“I just mean that… If there is anything I can do for you, any difficulties you might be facing that I don’t know about… please tell me.” He sighs. “I know that I can’t do much, all things considered, but I can try to ease some of the weight off your shoulders if you let me. I have wings, you know. I can take it.”

“Please.” Vittoria waves her hand at him to dismiss the thought. “You keep me fed - that’s enough.”

“Mm.” He crosses his arms over his chest and nods. “And you do eat a lot more than the others, that’s true…”

“Hey!” She kicks his foot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! It was merely an observation.”

“Watch it, Dellamorte.” She gestures to the open window. “You’d hit the ground before Spite realized what was happening.”

“Please don’t say his name right now. I don’t want him to ruin the moment.”

There it is - another word that might mean something to him but also might mean nothing. She didn’t realize that whatever’s happening between them right now could be considered a moment… but at the same time, she has started to notice that he’s been giving her more attention since she saved him and the Crows from the dragon. He sits beside her at dinner, keeps close to her side in fights and in their travels through the Crossroads… and what had he been doing tonight, sitting in the library of the Lighthouse instead of the kitchen? 

She tells herself that it doesn’t mean anything, though. It can’t mean anything. Vittoria could never live at Lucanis’s side. He’s in line to become First Talon, and his family has been a part of the Crows for hundreds and hundreds of years. No matter how much training she does, no matter what she does, Vittoria won’t ever feel like she belongs to the Crows or like the Crows belong to her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever rid herself of the fear that one wrong move will be the end of it - of her life here, or of her life at all. And she feels the same about Lucanis. If she pushes her luck too far, who can she trust to watch her back the way she trusts him? She needs to focus on finding allies right now. Not a lover.

If he was interested in her at all. Which he isn’t. He can’t be.

“We don’t have to talk, you know,” she tells him, more for her sake than his. If her face flushes any more tonight, she might burst into flames. “We can just sit here and… look out at our city.” 

“Our city.” Lucanis turns away from her and rests his head against the window frame, settling in and looking more at ease than she’s ever seen him. And while watching him in motion is enough to drive her to madness, seeing him at ease might be even worse. Watching his chest rise and fall with long, measured breaths. Watching his eyelashes flutter like he’s trying to keep himself awake. He is a beautiful thing, Lucanis. She’s sure being loved by him would be a beautiful thing, too.

“Before we stop talking, then, let me say one last thing: thank you for saving our city.” His voice is softer than a whisper, so soft that she has to lean in to hear what comes next. “And even though I didn’t know you before, I am glad that I know you now.”

As allies. As friends. As teammates. While she knows that’s all he means, it’s still something. Vittoria smiles at him. “Me too.”

True to his word, Lucanis doesn’t speak again for the rest of the night. Neither does Vittoria. (Neither does Spite.) They watch the sun rise over the mountains surrounding their home and then decide that it’s time to return to the Lighthouse to rest before they see the First Warden. But if things go well, if she somehow figures out a way to stop the gods, then she might bring him back here and tell him all the things that no one has ever thought to ask her about. He might even want to know.

[its-all-papaya]

can we get a lestappen or a landoscar + 13? maybe after waiting for a long time? or after one of them thought the other had been injured? 👀

heyyyyyy bestie anon, I come with gift ! it didn't end up that desperate, but I started in a direction and loved it too much to abandon, so if you want, I'll write that injury landoscar for you down the road as an apology.

other disclaimers include: I do not speak any of these languages & I am not remarkably well-versed in lestappen lore. ALLLLL that being said, I am quite fond of this one.

send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss

13. desperately | lestappen | ~800

Charles thinks he’s been in love with Max since before he knew the word for it. He had amour and he had amore, but Max had neither of those. And by the time they both had love, there were too many other words between them in all their varied languages, a mess of translations.

Because before Charles had love, he had colère, fighting back from P7 after Max edged him off the track in France. There was envie, watching his childhood rival slide into the seat of an F1 car through the screen of his laptop, balanced on his knees where he sat on the floor of his bedroom. With Ferrari, there was frustrazione from the garage as Charles watched Max take the chequered flag in front of a backdrop that he’d been looking at for 23 years. It was Charles’ view before Max knew it existed, and that was devastazione, heartbreak.

(Charles knows now that for Max, before there was love, there was pijn and there was snelheid and there was very little else.)

He’s known how to battle Max since before he knew English. He learned how it felt to overtake Max on track before he learned how to fit his mouth around the word - ‘overtake.’ Before he knew disappointment, before he knew victory, he knew déception, watching Max beat him and la victoire, beating Max.

In all of Charles’ memories, in each of his milestones, Max is there. In the pits, on the podium, thighs pressed together in the curve of the couch. For as far back as his memory extends, there has been racing boots and rubber, and around the apex of every turn, always there is Max.

Seven months after that afternoon in Monaco, Charles watches Max take the top step of a podium for the tenth time in a year and the hundredth time in his memory. He looks up at the boy he’s been battling nearly all his life and it’s the first time he’s seen him and thought fierté, proud.

Somewhere between that night in Abu Dhabi and two and a half years later in Imola, though, the weight of the world has switched shoulders. Charles has never been unburdened in F1, has never been light (if he’s allowed for a moment to be maudlin, he’ll admit he doesn’t know anybody who’s donned rosso corsa and come out the other side without an ache in their bones from the weight of it), but that has always been just another thing he shares with Max. He’s been comparing them one to the other for so long that it has become a part of his every weekend, like strapping his helmet, like saying his prayers. Max has never been soft, but his success has settled his fury, and when they interact now – more than ever – often he is doux, gentle. There are three World Championships between them and enough points that Charles doesn’t bother counting. He should look up the grid and feel jalousie, but instead he looks up from P3 through a mist of champagne and realizes the feeling (next to his motivation) is friand, fond.

Every weekend there is Max, and every summer there is Monaco. They occupy adjacent places in Charles’ chest: constant like racing, glittering like trophies. Always what he is chasing, always out of reach.

Only this summer, impossibly, there is no devastazione. There is no frustrazione. There is just vittoria, euforia, victory in Monaco.

He’s won, and it’s not a Championship but for now, for today, he can’t imagine winning anything that would matter more. Fresh out of the harbor, the Monégasque salt still stinging in his eyes, he thinks of every kilometer he’s ever driven, every podium he’s ever stood on, every moment he’s spent fighting for this, and always, toujours, sempre the person beside him. Monaco is Formula 1 and Monaco is home – a pair of associations that belong to the streets of Monte Carlo and only one other thing.

The champagne is sparkling in his bloodstream when he returns to the paddock, but it dims in comparison to the feeling he gets when he meets Max’s eyes. It is nothing to run to him and it is everything to reach him.

Max whispers words and they are English, but they could be any language and Charles would still understand. It is Abu Dhabi, it is Val D’Argenton, it is Monaco in Max’s gaze when his arms fit tightly around Charles. When Charles kisses Max, there are no words left. It’s desperation, it’s passion, it’s two decades in the making. It’s wet with Charles’ tears – relief like a victory lap – and it’s amour, amore. Charles’ hands bracket a face he’s spent his whole life watching and his mouth slides against a mouth he’s loved since before it could even speak to him. It is a long time until they part.

Charles thinks enfin, finally, and pour toujours, forever.

[alice-the-demon]

(CW: verbal and psychological abuse from family member)

A glimpse of Vittoria's childhood (Italian ☞ English translations in Alt text)

Vittoria can't remember much of her dad, nor why he left when she was young in the first place. Her mom always told her that Paolo never cared for his wife and that he preferred running away from his responsibilities like a coward... But now Vittoria thinks that it was because he couldn't handle Sofia's narcissistic and cruel behaviour anymore. And unfortunately out of all her childhood memories she mostly remembers the ones with mom in them.

Some time later they both had to move from Italy to America because a TV entertainment company was interested in mom's popularity of her cooking blog. Vittoria had much difficulty learning a secondary language.

(With passing time English became Vittoria and her mom's main language, even though there are some times that their Italian roots come peeking out)

Vittoria fortunately moved out of her mom's household (mostly because of a fight they had regarding Vittoria buying a vespa) and found a new home in a town with a pizzeria near the ruins of a crumbled tower in it *wink wink*, while Sofia is still running her cooking TV show with a huge following on social networks.

Vittoria kinda felt happy that she finally moved out and finally have some liberty... But the scars that her mom left were still there.

As for now, Vittoria recovered a lot with her mental health, especially thanks to her new boyfriend and the new friends she made there. She feels free. She feels happier. She feels... Loved.

It's been 2 and a half years since she heard her mom. Heck, she doesn't even dare to watch her show and blocked her on every social network she's in. And that's for the best honestly.

Let me know if you want to see Vittoria's mom getting beaten up by the Pizza Tower characters ❤️😙

[canirove]

Broken Hearts Football Club | Bonus chapter 2

Author’s note: This chapter is a long one compared to what I usually write, but I feel like it made sense to have it all in just one and not make two since everything revolves around the same topic, and there are some time jumps that I hope aren't too confusing. I also am still working on the third and last one (was supposed to finish it last night during the champions league game, but things happened 😅), though I think I can have it ready for next Thursday. Fingers crossed 🤞🏻 Hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

First chapter | Last chapter | Bonus chapter 1 | Bonus chapter 3

Masterlist

A few years after the previous chapter...

“I think I'm getting the watch, Chilly. I… Chilly?” Mason said, looking around. “Please wrap it for me. Thank you” he said to the jeweller's shop assistant before joining his friend. “Benjamin!”

“Bloody hell, Mason” Ben said, his hand instinctively moving to his heart. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Shit, sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, don't worry. What happened?”

“That I was calling you and you weren't listening. What were you so interested… No!” Mason gasped.

“It isn't what it looks like.”

“Isn't it?” he laughed. “Chilly, you were checking engagement rings! Are you thinking about proposing to June?”

“What? No!”

“Oh, so you were checking them just for fun.”

“Yeah” Ben shrugged.

“You are such a bad liar, Benjamin” he laughed again. “Tell me all about it.”

“About what?”

“About how you are going to ask June to marry you!”

“Shh, lower down your voice!” he said, looking around. The shop was almost empty, but if someone recognised them…

“Ok, ok. How are you going to do it?” Mason whisperer.

“I'm not going to do it.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because June doesn't want to marry me” Ben said.

“Bullshit, Chilly. June is madly in love with you! And you told me that she had confessed that she wanted to start a family with you one day.”

“She did, yes. But she never mentioned getting married, and that was when we moved in together a few years ago. Now…”

“Now nothing has changed. If you ask me, it has actually gotten worse, because when you guys started dating, you weren't as cheesy and annoying as you are now.”

“We are what?” Ben laughed.

“Cheesy and annoying. Sometimes I fear I may end up having a sugar rush just by looking at you.”

“Sure.”

“I'm being serious, Chilly. If you ask June to marry you, she is gonna say yes. I have zero doubts about it.”

“I don't know, Mason…” he sighed. “Because I've brought up the topic a few times since Vittoria got engaged, and she's always ignored me and started to talk about something else. It's like she avoids it.”

“What do you mean?”

“After Vitto’s engagement party I asked her about the ring, if it was her style and if she liked it, and she gave me a vague answer and started to talk about the food. Same after she came back from going wedding dress shopping for the first time with her and after she told us they were going to get married in Italy. I asked her if she liked any of that for herself, and she changed the topic. And do you know why, Mason? Because she doesn't want to marry me.”

“Ben, I think you are taking things out of context here.”

“I'm not” he insisted. “After what happened when we moved in she got scared, and now she doesn't want to take the next step in our relationship because she fears everything may go to hell.”

“But that won't be happening.”

“I know! But you know June. After all these years, she still feels insecure about us. You don't know how many times she's told me that she has to pinch herself from time to time to make sure that she isn't dreaming, that her happiness is real.”

“That's something cute to say, Chilly. Not insecurity.”

“But this is June, Mason. This… nevermind.”

“Ben…”

“Are you buying that watch?”

“I am, but Ben… You need to talk with June about this. Don't be stupid.”

“I will, don't worry. C'mon.”

“Ben…”

“I will” he said. “Now let's go pay for that watch and get something to eat, I'm famished.

“Fine” Mason sighed, giving up.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Hello, Chilwell.”

“Hi” Ben smiled as June sat down on the sofa next to him and kissed his cheek. “How was the wedding dress shopping today?”

“We found the one!”

“Really?”

“Yep” she smiled. “Vittoria looks amazing. She's gonna be the most stunning bride ever.”

“I beg to differ.”

“What?” she laughed.

“You, June Maxwell, are gonna be the most stunning bride ever.”

“I'm afraid you are a bit biased here, Chilwell.”

“It is a fact, not an opinion.”

“You and your facts” she chuckled.

“Yes, me and my facts. They are always right.”

“Are they?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Because I remember you writing about how I would never get to be top 3 at the Ballon d'Or, and a couple of years later there you were, cheering for me when I got second place.”

“The exception that proves the rule” he shrugged. “You are gonna be the most stunning bride ever, June.”

“Yeah, well… I also found my bridesmaid dress, by the way! It's super comfortable, I can even get down on one knee. And it makes my butt look so good. All the girls said that you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself, Chilwell. It's a fact” she smirked.

“Yeah, well…” he said, repeating the same words June had just said, sounding as disinterested as she had.

“Ben, are you ok? Did something happen when you were out with Mason?”

“Uh?”

“You've gone so serious…” she said, caressing his cheek. 

“It's nothing, don't worry.”

“Saying that is only making me worry a lot more.” 

“I'm fine, June. Just a bit tired” Ben smiled. 

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok… Why don't you start making dinner while I take a shower and then I help you?”

“Why don't we shower together and then make dinner?” he smirked.

“That actually sounds like a better plan.”

“I know” he grinned. 

“But weren't you tired?”

“When it comes to loving you I'm never tired, June.”

“Aww, he's gone all cheesy” she smiled.

“According to Mason, as time has gone by we've become super cheesy.”

“What?”

“Yeah” Ben shrugged. “Anyway, shall we?”

“Let's go” June said, getting up from the sofa. And as she started to walk… “Chilwell!” she laughed when he pinched her butt.

“I'm sorry, Maxwell, I couldn't help myself. It looks so peachy” he smirked again.

“So peachy… so peachy… Idiot!” she said before sticking out her tongue and starting to run upstairs, Ben doing the same after her, both of them laughing like two kids. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“June, have you checked your phone?” Vittoria said.

“Not since before training. Why?” she replied while getting dressed. 

“Because there is an article about Ben and Mason in The Sun, and it involves you.”

“Me? How? Did they… Did they find out about when Mason and I…” It had been years since their hook up. Could the press have somehow found out about it now? 

“It isn't about that. Look” Vittoria said, showing her her phone.

“Oh my God” June gasped. 

“Wedding bells for June Maxwell and Ben Chilwell? The ex football player and tv pundit was seen at a famous jeweller's with best friend Mason Mount, where he stopped to check some engagement rings according to eyewitnesses.”

“June… Do you think… Do you think he is going to propose?” Vittoria asked her.

“I… I… I gotta go” she blurted out, taking her things and almost tripping as she put on her shoes and ran towards the changing room’s door all at the same time. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You've seen it, haven't you?” June said, storming into the kitchen. 

“Hello to you too” Ben chuckled.

“Have you seen it or not?” she asked again.

“Seen what?” 

“The article on The Sun, Chilwell.”

“Oh, that” he said, finding the carrot he was cutting extremely interesting. 

“Yes, that” she replied. “Ben… Are you going to propose?”

“Straight to the point” he said with a sad chuckle.

“Are you or not?”

“I'm not, June. I know you don't want to marry me, so why bother?”

“Wait, what?” 

“Yeah” he shrugged.

“Why do you say that, Ben?”

“Because it is the truth. Didn't you hear the way you just sighed when I said that I'm not going to propose?”

“Yes, but…”

“And for the past few months you've been avoiding the topic every time I've brought it up, always starting to talk about something else. I guess you are scared of things going to hell like happened when we moved in together, afraid that this time we may not be able to fix them because getting married is something big.”

“Ben, that's not it” June said, moving to stand next to him.

“Isn't it?”

“No, it isn't” she said, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. “Ben, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But…”

“There isn't a but.”

“Then why don't you want to marry me? I thought marriage was something you believed in.”

“And I do. I do believe in marriage, Ben.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding talking about it, June?”

“It's…” she said, looking for the right words. “Ben, I want to marry you. I truly do. But not now.”

“What?” he said.

“It isn't the right moment. And not because I am scared. I mean, a little part of my brain will always be scared, that's who I am” she shrugged. “But not my heart. Never my heart. Because you mended it with your love, Ben. And every night when I fall asleep, I do it knowing that you are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. The man of my dreams, the one I'm destined to grow old with. Because I love you, Benjamin James Chilwell. I fucking love you, you hear me?”

“I love you too, June Elizabeth Maxwell” he smiled. “And to be honest, we don't need a piece of paper telling us what we already know, do we?”

“Exactly. So stop with the conspiracy theories, ok? That was my job, not yours.”

“Ok” he chuckled.

“I'm serious, Chilwell. Now that I don't have doubts anymore, that I'm 100% sure I want this… us… I don't need you, the one who has been sure about his feelings since the beginning, starting to doubt.”

“I won't fuck it up. I promise.”

“Swear it on your collection of trainers.”

“What?” Ben laughed.

“Do it. Swear it on them.”

“Ok, ok. I swear it. No more doubts.”

“Good” June smiled. “Because I do want to marry you, Ben. I do, and I will. You just need to be a bit patient, ok?”

“Ok” he smiled back, all the stupid doubts he had been having, finally going away. June loved him, and she wanted to marry him, she wanted it all with him. Nothing had changed. 

“Now move that nice ass of yours and get our dinner ready. I'm famished.”

“So bossy, Maxwell” he said with a teasing smile.

“Get used to it, Chilwell. You are stuck with me for the rest of your very long life.”

“Looking forward to it” he smiled. And he had meant it. Because he was looking forward to growing old and grey (maybe a bit bald too) with her, married or not.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A few months later...

“Ben…”

“Uhm?”

“Ben, there are people watching.”

“And?”

“And we can't do this in front of them” June said, taking the hand that was dangerously moving up her thigh and letting it rest on the table. “This, has to stay here.”

“It can't, Maxwell. Because you and the girls were right. That bridesmaid dress is making it impossible to keep my hands to myself.”

“Well, you must, Chilwell. It is Vittoria's wedding, and we can't ruin it because we are getting arrested for inappropriate behaviour. Have you forgotten that her dad is a police officer?”

“How could I?” he laughed. “May I remind you that when we started dating and you introduced us, he basically threatened to throw me in the deepest part of the Mediterranean if I dared hurting you?”

“He loves me very much, yes” she smiled.

“He does. Though not as much as I love you.”

“Chilwell!” June giggled when he started kissing her neck.

“Guys, can you please leave that for later?” Lauren interrupted them. “It's time for our speech.”

“You are giving a speech?” Ben said after giving June one last kiss that he knew would be leaving a mark on her neck.

“We are, yes. Didn't June tell you about it? We are the bride's best friends.”

“English best friends” June corrected her.

“Whatever” Lauren said. “C'mon, they are waiting for us.”

“Ok, fine. I'm… Chilwell!” she yelped as she got up from her chair.

“Yes?” he said with an innocent smile.

“Did you just pinch my butt?”

“Maybe” he shrugged. “I already told you I can't keep my hands to myself, Maxwell. And that dress makes your bum look so peachy” he smirked.

“You two are disgusting. C'mon” Lauren said, grabbing June's arm and dragging her away from Ben before he tried something else.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And that's how Vittoria became our best friend” Lauren smiled, the crowd still laughing at the anecdote. 

“We love you, Vitto” June said.

“And I love you too!” she replied, wiping away a tear.

“But June, speaking of loving someone…” Lauren said. “I think there was something you wanted to say.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you” she said, taking the microphone. “So, as you all probably know because you saw us making out on live tv after we won the World Cup a few years ago, I'm dating this chap called Ben Chilwell. Chilly according to his friends. Though if my friends gave me that nickname, I would end our friendship right there. Chilly? Really?” June said, everyone laughing again. “Anyway… Besides seeing us kiss, you all probably heard me telling him that I loved him. Cute, I know” she smiled. “But what you don't know, is that that was the first time I was telling him those three words. I had tried a few times before, but someone or something always interrupted us. And to be honest, doing it the way I did and where I did it, makes it a better story to tell our grandchildren, doesn't it? And we could tell them more stories. Like, for example, that at first we couldn't stand each other and that he was my number one hater. I'm sure some of you still remember Ben's facts” she said, air quoting that last word and rolling her eyes. “Or how he scared the hell out of all of us when we thought he had had a heart attack, and it made me realize that I was in love with him. Or how we became girlfriend and boyfriend while flying over the Indian Ocean. As you can see, we like doing things our own way, and kind of go big or go home. And tonight, it won't be any different. So, Chilwell, could you please join me up here?” June said with her most charming smile. “C'mon, don't be shy.”

“I'll go fetch him” Lauren offered, all the guests looking at them.

“Hello” June smiled when they joined her on the little stage that had been set for the band that was playing later. 

“Hi” Ben smiled back. “And what the fuck, Maxwell” he whispered while she kissed his cheek.

“You are blushing… cute” she whispered back.

“My face has been burning since you started talking about us and everyone was looking my way. What are you doing, June?”

“Patient, Chilwell” she smirked. “Could we please get a round of applause for my gorgeous boyfriend? He's a bit nervous.”

“June…” he hissed when everyone started clapping. 

“Like I just said, in our relationship we don't do things the usual way. And on this occasion, it won't be any different. So” June said, giving the microphone back to Lauren while she gave her something else. Something small that fit in the palm of her hand. “Benjamin James Chilwell. Chilwell… Ben… Would you marry me?” she said, getting down on one knee and showing him what Lauren had given her: a little box with a ring inside it.

“June” he gasped. “I… I… Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Maxwell. I will marry you.”

“Yay!” Lauren started clapping next to them while all the guests cheered, Ben helping June stand up so she would not ruin her dress. If someone was going to do that, it would be him when he took it off her.

“You are fucking crazy, Maxwell” he laughed while she put the ring on his finger.

“For you? Most definitely” she smiled. “I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too, June” he said before wrapping his arms around her and giving her one of those kisses you only see in movies, the cheers around them getting louder.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Now I understand it all” Ben said while staring at his ring.

“Understand what?” June said, moving to look at him. 

After the proposal, getting greeted by their friends and basically everyone at the wedding, and celebrating by dancing until their feet hurt, they had finally retired to their room, where Ben had done what he had been dreaming of the whole day: be all over June. Though the part about ripping the dress out of her, hadn't actually happened.

They both had been so eager and desperate to be in each other's arms, that the moment they had crossed their room's door they hadn't bothered to take off their clothes. They had done it against the wall, June's dress wrapped around her waist, Ben still in his suit. It had been once they had gotten all that almost animalistic need and want out of their systems, that they had slowed down, whispering love words and kissing and caressing each other until no clothes were on their bodies, getting to properly enjoy the night. 

“The way you have been behaving since Vittoria got engaged. You have been planning it all since then, haven't you? And the girls have helped you.”

“Yep” June smiled. “You weren't the only one who had started to think about taking the next step, Ben. Though unlike you, and in an unexpected turn of events, I was the one who was completely sure about her feelings, our relationship, and that I wanted to marry you.”

“Yeah” he chuckled. “I just… I don't know why I started to feel so insecure, why it got in my head the way it did. Because I also was sure about my feelings for you, our relationship, and that I wanted to marry you. But I… I don't know” he sighed.

“That's in the past, Ben” June said, caressing his cheek. “What matters now, is that we love each other and that we both are on the same page. That we both want to get married and spend the rest of our lives together.”

“We do” he smiled. “I can't wait to call you my wife.”

“And I can't wait to call you Mr. Maxwell.”

“What?” he laughed.

“If you think I'm going to change my last name, you are very wrong, Chilwell.”

“I'm not changing mine either, Maxwell.”

“It would be very cool, tho. And Benjamin Maxwell sounds lovely.”

“We can save that name for our first kid, then” he said, pulling her closer towards him.

“I'm not naming our kids after us, I'm sorry.”

“Why not? I love your name, it is so unique.”

“Then why do you call me Maxwell all the time, uh?” she asked with a teasing smile.

“I don't know. I guess it got stuck after always calling you like that on tv” he shrugged. “And you call me Chilwell all the time too.”

“Yes, but I do it to tease you” she grinned. 

“Rude” Ben chuckled. “But if I change my last name to Maxwell, you won't be able to do it anymore. Think about it.”

“And I do love calling you Chilwell…”

“Then it is settled. No last name change.”

“No last name change for us. But…”

“But?”

“You just said that Benjamin Maxwell sounded nice for our kids. Does that mean that they will have my last name?” she smirked, moving even closer towards him.

“I'll think about it.”

“Is there anything I could do to help you think?” she said, her hand slowly moving from his chest all the way down to his belly button.

“That's cheating, June” Ben said, his body tensing under her touch.

“We haven't set any rules, so” she shrugged, her hand still moving down.

“We… fuck” Ben gasped.

“I think I have the winning hand here.”

“June!” he laughed. “But…” he said, moving to be on top of her and totally catching her by surprise. “I also have an ace in the hole. Well, almost.”

“Benjamin!” June said, also laughing.

“You started it all, Maxwell” he shrugged. 

“I did, yes” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you, fiancé.”

“Is that your new nickname for me? Fiancé?”

“It has a nice ring to it too, don't you think? No pun intended.”

“It actually does, yes” Ben chuckled. “But I guess that from now on I'll have to say that I love you too… fiancée” he smiled before kissing her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Good morning, fiancé.”

“Good morning” Ben smiled.

“Pepper, have I told you that he is my fiancé? This guy right here?” June said, hugging from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “This gorgeous man, is my fiancé, Pepper.”

“Meow” he replied, sat next to them waiting for Ben to maybe give him something to eat.

“I think he heard you the first time” Ben chuckled. 

“Just in case he forgot” she shrugged.

“Keeping in mind that you are constantly reminding him and everyone that crosses paths with you that I am your fiancé…”

“Are you calling me annoying, Chilwell?”

“I would never dare, Maxwell.”

“Good” she said, resting her head on his shoulder while he kept making their breakfast. “But it isn't my fault I'm happy and want to share it with the world. Or my world at least, not the outside one. That one can wait.”

“And to think I believed you didn't want to marry me…” Ben said.

“You and your insecurities. I wonder who you got them from.”

“Right?” he laughed. “But they are gone, and aren't coming back. I swear it on my sneakers collection.”

“That's my boy. Wait, no. My fiancé” she corrected herself.

“A fiancé that won't be able to finish making you a delicious breakfast if you keep hugging him like that.”

“Don't you like it?” she asked, kissing the back of his neck.

“I love it, June. You know I do. But we also  need to eat something that isn't the other” he smirked, moving on her arms until he was facing her.

“Shame” she sighed.

“We can do it later, tho.”

“I like how that sounds” she smirked back.

“Now why don't you go get the garden table ready? It's a glorious day, we should eat outside.”

“Ok… fiancé” June giggled before kissing Ben's nose and letting go of him, humming something to herself while Pepper followed her around and he just stared at her. “Chilwell, our breakfast.”

“Yes, our breakfast. Sorry” he smiled, giving her one last look and focusing on their food, thinking that he was the luckiest man alive.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You know, if things as a manager don't work out, you should open a restaurant.”

“What?” Ben laughed.

“Or maybe a bed and breakfast. We could buy a small house somewhere in the countryside and turn it into one! You would cook, and I would take care of everything else.”

“Do you see yourself living in the countryside?”

“I actually do, yes” June smiled. 

“You had never told me that.”

“It is a recent dream of mine. But I still have at least a couple of good years playing football before I have to start thinking about retiring and all that.”

“What would you call it?”

“Uh?”

“Your bed and breakfast. What would you call it? June's?” Ben asked her.

“What about… Chilly in June?” she laughed.

“That sounds too weird.”

“Maxwell and Chilwell?”

“Umm… It could work.”

“Does this mean that you are in? That you would move to the countryside with me?” she asked him.

“I would go to the end of the world with you, June” he smiled.

“Aww, Ben” she smiled back. “Though we've kind of done that already. We went to Australia together, remember?”

“We did, yes” he chuckled. “And I have something for you” he said when they managed to stop looking at each other like two idiots in love, which was what they actually were.

“For me?”

“For you” Ben said, giving her a Kinder egg.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you giving me one now?”

“Can't a fiancé give her fiancée a little present?” he chuckles.

“Of course he can. But this is like our thing after games, and the season hasn't started yet.”

“I know.”

“Then?”

“Then what?”

“Then why are you giving me this now?”

“Maxwell, can you please just accept it and stop asking so many questions?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Ok, ok. Do you want half of it?”

“It's all yours, June.”

“Ummm…”

“What now?” Ben sighed.

“You are nervous” she said, opening the egg and following the same routine sh  had since she was a little girl. First she would carefully unwrap it so the paper was as intact as possible. Then she would open it making sure each half was perfect and they didn't break, and after that, she would check the surprise before eating the chocolate. 

“I'm not nervous” he chuckled.

“Yes, you are, Chilwell. Is there something I should know?”

“What?”

“I think there is something going on, something you aren't telling. Something… Ben” June gasped when she opened the surprise. “What… This… You…”

“This had been my plan all along, you know?” he said. “To ask you to marry me like this, in our garden after making and eating breakfast together, and with the ring inside a Kinder egg surprise. I wanted it to happen in the place where we fell in love, in our home. But you, Miss Maxwell, had other plans and beat me to it” he chuckled.

“I… sorry?”

“It's ok” he said, taking the ring. “May I still do it?”

“Do what?” 

“Ask you to marry me, June. I know we already are engaged, but…”

“Yes.”

“I haven't asked yet, Maxwell” he smirked.

“Oh, shut up and just do it, Chilwell” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Ok” he said, still smirking as he got down on one knee. “June Elizabeth Maxwell. Would you do me the immense honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes. Yes, yes and yes!” she said, jumping at him and hugging him.

“June!” he said as they both fell down. 

“Shit. Are you ok?”

“I am, don't worry” he chuckled, sitting up and making June do the same on his lap. “May I?”

“Please” she said, extending her hand.

“Perfect. Do you like it?”

“I love it, Ben. And I love you. I love so very much.”

“I love you too, June” he said. And as he leaned forward to kiss her… “Pepper!”

“Meow!” the cat said, jumping to sit between them.

“That's his way of giving you his blessing” she laughed.

“Well, thank you very much, sir. May I now kiss my future wife? My fiancée?”

“Meow!” Pepper replied before jumping again and starting to run after a butterfly.

“I think that's a yes.”

“If that's the case… Were was I?”

“You were about to kiss me… fiancé.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you… fiancée” he smiled before finally kissing June.  

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A year (or so) later...

“I still can't believe this is how they've decided to do it” Mason said.

“What is wrong with it?” Reece asked. 

“Nothing, but… I don't know. Didn't June say that they are like, go big or go home with important moments in their relationship?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are they getting married… here?” Mason said, looking around. 

“I think it is cute. This place means a lot to them, it is where they fell in love.”

“Yes, but… They are getting married in their house, Reece. In their garden.” And it had all been June's idea.

She and Ben had spent months looking at venues all around the country and even some in France and Spain during their holidays, but none of them had felt right. Not until during a lovely spring day, June found what they were looking for.

They had been sitting on the sofas they had in the garden, Ben resting his head on her lap while going through some notes from his manager school like she liked calling it, and June running her hand through his hair and keeping an eye on Pepper, who was trying to catch a lizard. And in that moment, surrounded by all the flowers Ben had so meticulously planted and taken care of over the years, the smell from the lunch they had cooked together still in the air, she had felt it: happiness. Pure bliss. 

Life could freeze in that moment, repeat over and over again as if they were stuck in a loop, and she would still feel like the luckiest woman in the world. 

That garden… their garden… was the perfect place to celebrate their love. After all, it had been where it all had started.

“There you are” Leah said, walking towards Mason and Reece. “They are ready, it's time.”

“Can't believe we are about to witness June and Ben getting married” Reece said. 

“You tell me” she chuckled. “Anyway, ready to walk me down the aisle, Mount?”

“Yes, ma'am” Mason smiled, offering Leah his arm. After them, Reece and Lauren also were getting ready to walk into the garden, Vittoria and John behind them, Pepper chilling in his arms. 

That had been one of the pros June had told Ben while trying to convince him to get married in the garden: Pepper could be with them. 

“Are you nervous?” Ben's mum asked him as they went down the stairs, Mason and Leah already outside, Reece and Lauren following them.

“You have no idea” he said with a nervous laugh. “Did you get to see her?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“She looks breathtaking, Ben. You'll see for yourself in just a minute.”

“If she hasn't run away…”

“Benjamin!” his mum said, hitting his arm.

“I'm joking, I’m joking” he laughed. “I know she isn't going anywhere. She can't. Because like I’m saying on my vows, my heart belongs to her just as hers belongs to me.”

“Aww, Benny” she smiled. “Ready?” she asked when they made it to the door.

“Ready” he nodded, taking a deep breath and stepping outside, all their guests smiling at him while Mason, Leah, Reece, Lauren, Vittoria, John and the officiant waited for him next to the arch of flowers at the end of the garden, Pepper already chilling on his favorite bed next to it. 

“Relax, bro” he heard Mason say behind him once he joined them, his mum sitting next to June’s parents and trying not to cry. Again. She had already done it a few times while they were getting ready, especially when he had shown her that he was going to wear the same tie his dad had worn on their wedding day. “This way he will also be with me on the most important day of my life” he had told her. 

“I'm…” relaxed. That was what Ben would have liked to say. But the music had changed, and everyone was looking at the door that led to the garden, at the two people who were walking through it: June and her dad. “Bloody hell” he whispered, his eyes fixed on June. She looked… she… she was… She… 

“Hello, Chilwell” she smiled when she joined him. 

“Breathtaking.”

“What?”

“My mum was right. You look breathtaking, June” he finally managed to say.

“Thank you” she replied, feeling her cheeks get warmer and warmer by the second. Ben had called her any synonym of beautiful you could think of since they had gotten together, but he had never done it while looking at her the way he was in that moment: in complete awe. 

“I thought you said your dress could rival Princess Diana's. What happened?” he asked.

“It got lost somewhere” she shrugged. “Don't you like this one? Lauren said it fits me just like my Versace one but in white and longer” she said, looking down at it. It was a very simple white dress, it didn't have anything special. But Lauren's comment had stuck with her even after trying on others, which according to her mum meant that it was the one.

“And she's not wrong” Ben said, remembering how good June had looked the first time he had seen her wearing that dress. How smoking hot she looked. “Is that why you are wearing the same hairpins?” he asked, nodding towards her hair.

“You've noticed!” she smiled, touching them. 

“Of course I have, Maxwell. I remember every single detail of how you looked that night. And after today” he said, taking a step closer towards her. “I will also remember every single detail of how breathtaking you are looking right now.”

“Ben…” she whispered, also moving forward.

“Ahem” the officiant said when June's hand touched Ben's face. “The kiss is for later. You aren't married yet.”

“Sorry” they both apologised, moving back to their positions.

“May I start?” the officiant asked them.

“You may” Ben said. “And sorry. Again.”

“It's ok” he said before starting with the ceremony, one where June and Ben didn't stop looking at each other. Not when Pepper let out a big meow that made everyone laugh, and especially not when they said their vows. Though through the corner of her eye, June noticed Reece asking his sister for a handkerchief and wiping away some tears. “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride” the officiant said. 

“Finally” Ben smiled before wrapping his arms around June and kissing her, everyone clapping and cheering. “I love you, June” he said against her lips. “Or should I say wife? Because that's what you are now, Maxwell. You are my wife. Did you hear that, guys? June Maxwell is my wife!” 

“Chilwell!” she said while hitting his arm, everyone laughing.

“What? It is the truth. You are my wife, Maxwell” he smirked.

“I know. And in case you've forgotten, you are my husband. And I love you.”

“Say that again, please.” 

“What?”

“The last three words. After all these years, I still am not used to hearing you saying them” Ben teased her.

“Idiot” she laughed. 

“Yet you love me” he said, pulling her even closer towards him. 

“I do. I love you very much… husband” June smiled.

“And I love you too, wife” he smiled back before kissing her again, more cheers and some meows surrounding them. 

[anghraine]

dontstandmedown replied to this post:

re:tags could you share the playwright you're talking about? :0

No problem! For others, the tags in question are this:

#thinking about this partly because the softer & gentler versions of fanfic discourse keep crossing my dash #and partly because i've written like 30 pages about a playwright i adore who was just not very good at 'original fiction' as we'd define it #both his major works are ... glorified rpf in our context but splendid tragedies in his #and the idea of categorizing /anything/ in that era by originality of conception rather than comedy/tragedy/etc would be buckwild

I am always delighted to share the good news of John Webster! If you're not familiar with him, he was an early seventeenth-century English playwright known for being a slow, painstaking, but reliable writer. He did various collaborations with other playwrights (and acknowledges a bunch of his peers in an author's note to The White Devil, including Jonson and Shakespeare) and wrote some middling plays in various genres that could be more or less termed "original fiction," but he's remembered for two brilliant, bloody tragedies.

The basic premises/plots of both of these were essentially ripped from the headlines of the previous century, and Webster makes zero attempt to conceal that fact.

I couldn't shut up about my guy so more under a cut!

The White Devil is based on the actual murder of Vittoria Accoramboni in the late sixteenth century and the characters in the play are generally given the same or similar names as the real life people in the story as known at the time, so there's no attempt to conceal the play's origins (the anti-heroine/villain???[debatable] is named Vittoria Corombona in the play, for instance).

The original production of The White Devil largely failed, which Webster blamed mainly on bad weather and an audience who just didn't get his ~vision and what he was trying to do. It would not be unsurprising for a contemporary audience to struggle with it given that it's a complicated play in which, among other things, Vittoria is put on trial and rhetorically shreds the underlying misogyny of the entire legal process.

The Duchess of Malfi, generally considered a still greater achievement, is based directly on the murder of Giovanna d'Aragona, Duchess of Amalfi by her brothers (it was presumed, likely correctly). Lope de Vega also wrote a play about this tragedy not long before Webster did, though the plays are very different and it's unlikely that Webster would have had the time or linguistic knowledge necessary to read Lope's version. Probably part of the reason for the differences between Lope's and Webster's takes is that Lope had to be careful about the reception by the Catholic Church given that one of the murderers was a cardinal, while obviously an English Protestant like Webster could say whatever he wanted about eeeeevil cardinals.

Webster takes a lot of artistic license, a normal approach at the time to adapting previously-established narratives, but the source material is very recognizable. One of the commendatory verses at the beginning of the play (blurbs in poetic form from other playwrights) is like "I'm sure the real duchess was cool but she couldn't be as cool as Webster's heroine, wow <3". (One of the other commendations is by another fave of mine, John Ford.)

Bosola, the historically mysterious minion of the Duchess's murderous brothers (=Bozolo in the historical narrative) gets an elaborate quasi-redemption arc in the play. And the play is extremely critical of various characters' obsession with and attempts to control the Duchess's sexual behavior (a fixation that is often extremely normalized in early modern British drama, but which comes off really badly here).

Ultimately this obsessiveness leads to her brothers, the Cardinal (=the historical Cardinal Luigi d'Aragona) and Ferdinand (=Carlo d'Aragona) orchestrating her torment and murder in which she emerges with her sanity and integrity intact and dies with dignity. Meanwhile, the Cardinal is exposed as a remorseless villain (he proceeds to murder his mistress with a Bible) and Ferdinand's already-shaky sanity snaps under the realization of what he's done.

Webster's Duchess is often considered the first real female tragic hero in British drama—the tragic is especially significant because tragedy was typically considered a higher art form than comedy and the truly great female characters from that era of drama are often restricted to comedies or secondary roles in tragedy (a marked trend in Shakespeare, for instance). The Duchess in the play is virtuous, strong-willed, witty, and fairly unabashedly sexual in the context of the time, a concept that several hundred years of critics have struggled with. (My favorite OTT complaint is from Martin Sampson, an early 20th century critic who lamented the conspicuous absence of a "strong active man, following righteous things" in Webster's work, to which I say l m a o.)

Anyway, among scholars of early modern British drama, Webster is often considered second only to Shakespeare as a tragedian, on the basis of those two plays. And the modern obsession w/ originality and novelty makes this kind of fascinating, given that his "original" work (in our sense—again, the original vs fanfic dichotomy was not a thing in that cultural context) is sort of meh but his work with pre-existing sources turns them into these staggering dramatic achievements.

[starsofarda]

Tolkien and translations: Italy's debate over the newest translation of "The fellowship of the ring".

So, I am going to keep things shortand simple here, because I am not trying to write an essay here.

So, the first translation was made by Vittoria Alliata di Villafranca and it appears that this was the translation that had been approved by Tolkien himself.

Her translation oficially was published by publishing house Rusconi in 1970 after being revised by Quirino Principe. This edition was then discontinued and if you ind any copy it is gonna cost a lot of money.

In 2003 publishing house Bompiani picked up once again Alliata's translation, kind of undid Principe's corrections and added stuff that the Italian Tolkien Society suggested, made it pretty and this is the edition I currently have with me. It isa very poetic and epic translation, maybe with too many words sometimes, but no one had any issue reading it.

Bompiani was recently forced to retire and discontinue this edition and a lot of the fans have pointed the finger at the newest translation, the one made by Ottavio Fatica, which is not very popular for the Choices™ he decided to make. It seems that this was claimed by the translator as the one and only and this had already made a lot of the fans not exactly thrilled.

Now, when you are translating something the tone is everything.

The idea behind Fatica's translation was that it hadto be easier to read, hence the epic tone in the Alliata's translation is almost gone. It's the everyday now. He uses different linguistic registers depending on who is speaking and what social class they are from, which was not something Alliata's translation did. He did his research and he talks ostensibly about his choics in his interviews.

My personal opinion is that this translation sucks. I have read it, I have seen the debate. The epic tone was kind of Tolkien's heart in storytelling, I think a lot of that got truly lost in this newest edition.

And I am sorry, but I read the Alliata's translation at age 15 and it was easy enough, so personally I think that a lot of the choices made were not the way. On top of it the movies followed in the dub with the Alliata's translation and tone and it's gonna cause mayhem.

I don't like changes like the word "ranger", translated in the Alliata as"ramingo", used for Aragorn changed into "forestale".

Like, we use "forestale" to point at the guy who takes care of the woodland and whilst I can see the leap I still prefer the word "ramingo" (i.e. a person who travels, a nomad, which kind of feels more what Aragorn is at the beginning).

In general he uses italian words, but in a completely different meaning than what we actually use them for - and I don't personally think this makes the reading easier. If anything I feel very confused.

To me it just feels like a downgrade, but a lot of new fans are all head over heels for this new translation.

At the end of the day I am not forced to read the newest translation, I have the Alliata's one and I plan on buying the books in English too. It doesn't affect me personally, but this whole shctik of making the reading easier just speaks to me like we have suddenly become stupid and can't read anything more complex than a children's book, which honestly is a bit insulting.

But it is what it is now.

I am sad, but at the end of the day there is nothing I can do.

Feel free to ask any questions, I will do my best to reply :)

[odessa-the-anathema]

Today I bring to youuuu 🥁🥁🥁🥁

KOTW INCORRECT QUOTES!!

Wrath x Emilia edition, more coming in the future (envy x Camilla and just general character ones)

Emilia: Why can’t we all just get along?

Wrath: Because most of us are assholes, Emilia.

Wrath: I think we should kiss.

Emilia: And I think you should die but we don’t always get what we want.

Wrath: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Emilia: AS ENEMIES?!

Wrath: ...

Wrath: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy.

Emilia: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep.

Wrath: I said within reason, Emilia. How about I murder that guy?

Emilia: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't?

Wrath: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

Emilia: Wrath and I are no longer dating.

Wrath: Emilia, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Wrath: What makes a bigger memory than a passionate kiss?

Wrath: A stab wound.

Emilia: Let's just agree to both say we're sorry on the count of three.

Emilia: One... two... three.

Wrath: ...

Emilia: ...

Emilia: See, now I'm just disappointed in both of us.

Cop: Can you describe the person who stabbed you?

Wrath: Lithe, spirited, outgoing, and not afraid to speak her mind. She was a raw sexual force and she knew it. She was a dandelion fluff on a summer day, gone in an instant, leaving you with nothing but a memory of her touch and the faint taste of strawberries on your lips.

Cop: …Great, we have a motive, but we still need a description.

Emilia: We all have our demons.

Emilia, grabbing Wrath: This one’s mine.

Wrath, admiring a sleeping Emilia: You’re so cute.

Emilia, sleepily: I could beat your ass.

Wrath, lovingly: I know.

Wrath: This is a very powerful artifact. You’d be messing with some forces we don’t fully understand.

Emilia: That sounds like a dare to me.

Wrath: Oh my god.

Wrath: I could kill you if I wanted.

Emilia: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

Emilia: Wrath, we tried things your way.

Wrath: No, we didn't.

Emilia: I did it in my head and it didn't work.

Emilia: Why are you burning our marriage certificate!?

Wrath: Good luck trying to return me without a receipt.

Wrath: *casually taking four stairs at a time*

Emilia, falling behind, taking two stairs at a time: Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fu-

Emilia: Snow got me feeling some type of way.

Wrath: That's hypothermia.

Emilia: Damn, the paramedics told me it was the magic of Christmas.

Wrath and Emilia: I am so horny and angry all the time.

Emilia: Hi.

Fauna: Hey, did you do what I said? Did you tell him?

Emilia: I did.

Fauna: And what did he say?

Emilia: “Thank you.”

Fauna: You’re totally welcome. What’d he say?

Emilia: he said, “Thank you.” I said “I love you” and Wrath said, “Thank you.”

Emilia: You’re alive.

Wrath: No need to sound so disappointed. (This one is kind of cheating bc in the first book literally "I thought you were dead" "sorry to disappoint you, witch.")

Emilia: My hands are cold.

Wrath: Here, let me hold them.

Emilia: My lips are cold too.

Wrath: *covers Emilia's mouth with his hand*

Wrath: *Turns on the kitchen light*

Emilia: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*

Wrath: It’s four in the morning.

Emilia: Turn the light back off.

Wrath: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close.

Emilia blushing: Okay.

Vittoria: It's fucking summer.

Emilia: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Wrath: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Emilia: But you’re always acting stupid?

Wrath: ...

Wrath: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

Emilia: Go to hell!

Wrath: Oh! I’ve been there, thank you. I found it quite lovely.

Wrath: Punch me in the face.

Emilia: ...Punch you?

Wrath: Yes, punch me, didn’t you hear me?

Emilia: I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ while you’re speaking but it’s usually just subtext.

Wrath: I love you

Emilia: how many people have you said that to?

Wrath: everyone

Emilia: what?

Wrath: I told everyone that I love you

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 24 - Up Where We Belong

IN THIS CHAPTER: Graduation gowns, strawberry milkshakes, and Wayne asks a question [9.9k]

WARNINGS: dealing with grief (nancy, dottie, eddie to a less extent), writer not knowing how graduations are in the us

A/N: happy new year!!!! i hope everyone is having a wonderful start of 2024, here's your belated christmas gift from yours truly. if you read this and think "that's not how that works", then i don't know what to tell you bestie but i tried. i watched a TON of graduation ceremonies on youtube and i pulled heavily from those, aside from borrowing things from my own not-american graduation. i hope you enjoy it anyways! (and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!) <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

All we have is here and now All our life, out there to find

Friday, June 13th - 1986

Wayne Munson had walked the halls of Hawkins High School several times throughout recent years courtesy of his nephew’s misbehaving, but never making it past Principal Higgins’ office was turning out to be a problem. Resigned, he stomped on his cigarette gently before following a family that looked like they knew where they were going, regretting not taking up Eddie’s offer to escort him inside before he disappeared in search of his friends and fellow graduates. Graduation. Ain’t that a funny thing to think about, Wayne mused. The auditorium, he noted as he finally found it, was decorated in bright orange and calming forest green, a Class of 1986 paper banner hanging from the dark curtain that was doing its job as an unassuming background at the very back of the room. On the stage, there was a regal-looking wooden lectern, and a small table with stacked up rolls of paper tied with orange and green ribbons; next to it, a bunch of black chairs where teachers would probably be sitting during the event had been carefully lined up into a single row.

Excitement filled the air. It was in the murmurs of the people taking their seats, skimming their programs to proudly find the names of their kids printed on the semi-matte paper. It was in the way the school’s faculty could not stand still, barely having time to say hello to everyone walking in before they were off to check yet another little detail so everything could go as smoothly as possible. Wayne walked down the central aisle trying to find a good spot to sit in while feeling a bead of sweat go down his back. The last time he’d worn a suit, any suit, had been to his mother’s funeral eight years before; in fact, he still only owned that one suit. The temperature in Hawkins was steadily rising as June turned into July, and Wayne felt incredibly stuffy in his clothes but he didn’t dare wear anything less for such a special day. Eddie had defied all odds and was now a High School Graduate, the first Munson to walk to stage in three generations. Truth be told, his Uncle was willing to bet that he was actually the first one to do so in their entire family history, and thus, Wayne wore the suit, and the shirt, and the tie, and searched for a seat near the front to witness his nephew doing the exact opposite of what the whole town had always expected him to do: succeed.

Bianca, Donny’s mom, was fussing over her youngest grandson, Francesco, when she saw Wayne looking a little lost in the crowd and waved at him to wordlessly invite him to sit with them. The eldest Munson approached them with a smile, settling himself on the row behind the Vitale family who was so very busy trying to keep little Francesco and his (barely) older cousin Marco from running down the aisles and bothering other families.

“Good to see y’all made it,” Wayne commented, shaking Donny’s dad Angelo’s hand before turning to Vittoria, Donny’s heavily pregnant older sister. “Though I coulda sworn I heard you were on bed rest, missy.”

“I am, but what my doctor doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she laughed, hand resting over her swollen belly. “This little lady hasn’t stopped kicking me all day, I think she’s more excited than I am to finally be outside the house!”

“It’s a special day, I’m sure the doctor won’t mind too much as long as we take it slow,” her husband said, kissing the side of her head. “Say hi to Mr. Munson, Marco.”

“Hi!” the little boy said, standing between his parents’ seats. “Whose Grandpa are you?”

“Marco!” his dad exclaimed, but Wayne laughed loudly.

“That’s not a grandpa, you dummy! That’s Eddie’s dad,” said Francesco, before grabbing his cousin’s hand and leading him towards Nonna Giulia down the row in search of the candy she always kept in her purse.

“I’m sorry,” Vittoria said with an apologetic smile. “They read this picture book about families at pre-school and now he thinks all men with white hair are grandpas.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I know I’m not gettin’ any younger,” Wayne joked, his eyes straying to the side of the auditorium where the seniors were finally getting ushered into formation.

The Vitale family craned their necks to see their boy, and Wayne in turn searched for his: Eddie was standing near Jeff towards the middle of the line, the two of them engaged in conversation as they waited for everyone to get into their respective places. It wasn’t that Eddie wasn’t paying attention to what his friend was saying; he was clearly answering back and keeping the chat going, but it seemed to his Uncle that he was searching for someone in the crowd, eyes scanning rows of unknown family members for a face he hadn’t yet found. Wayne was about to lift his hand to let him know where he was sitting, but it soon became apparent that Eddie hadn’t been looking for him - he had been looking for the short haired girl who had just ran into the auditorium with a panicked look on her face and an askew cap on her head.

Dottie hurried over to where her classmates were standing, enveloping a curly haired girl Wayne wasn’t familiar with at the very back of the line in an enthusiastic hug before doing the same with Donny. Wayne saw with an amused smile how Eddie waited patiently for his turn while she hugged Jeff, and how all his anxiety looked like it was melting away as he embraced her, eyes closed and face buried in her hair. After saying their hellos, Dottie kept walking to the front of the line where she greeted a strawberry blonde girl with excited hops and shared an equally loving hug with both her and Gareth. Her dad watched her with a fond smile from his place near the doors, a program held tightly in his hands. Taking pity on the poor man who Wayne knew was attending the event alone much like he was, he motioned for James to join their mismatched group who gladly took the offer, walking briskly towards the still empty seat next to Eddie’s uncle. James greeted Donny’s family before getting comfortable on his wooden chair and let a long breath out. Finally.

“Long morning?” Wayne asked, knowingly.

“Be grateful you don’t have a teenage girl in your house, Wayne. It was near impossible to get here on time,” James scoffed.

“Can’t be worse than Ed’s allergy to his damn alarm clock. It went off for a whole 15 minutes before he got up today.”

“Did it wake you up?”

“Nah. Was already up reading the paper but I wasn’t about to turn it off for him. He just rolls over and keeps sleeping if I do,” he said, and James shook his head with an affectionate smile on his face.

“Teenagers, right?”

“Yup. Teenagers.”

Over the few short months Wayne and James had known each other, they had learned to appreciate the quiet but hard work the other did for their respective kid. It wasn’t easy to be a single father, and even though Wayne wasn’t Eddie’s biological dad, there was no doubt in James’ mind that he fulfilled that role wonderfully in the boy’s life and heart. The Munsons and the Burkes had gone through a lot over the years, that much was undeniable, but on that hot Friday morning both fathers could be proud that their kids had made it to the other side relatively unharmed, all the while somehow finding each other to rely on along the way. If Dottie and Eddie were going to be inseparable all summer as they had been since the day they met, it was only fair James and Wayne got to compare notes on parenting and commiserate over the little annoying things they’d miss once the kids had left the comforting safety of their family homes.

Before they could continue their talk however, teachers began herding the seniors into a neat single file and getting into their places on the stage, Principal Higgins taking his spot behind the lectern. Excitement amplified as the crowd hushed - only suppressed coughs and a few little children’s voices could be heard in the quiet room. Wayne saw Higgins approach the mic and took a deep breath letting the pride he’d been feeling all morning take over him. The heat of the almost-here summer was forgotten outside in the parking lot, along with his smushed cigarette butt and the heavy weight he’d been carrying since a CPS agent left a scared 8-year-old Eddie on his doorstep all those years ago.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Hawkins High School Principal Thomas Higgins,” the man began, voice booming across the room with the aid of loudspeakers; Dorothy peered at him over the shoulder of the taller girl standing in front of her. “On behalf of the faculty, staff, and administration of Hawkins High, we’d like to welcome family and friends, and most importantly, to our seniors to the Commencement Exercises of the Graduating Class of 1986.”

Higgins paused for effect and the crowd followed his cue by breaking into happy applause - the aforementioned seniors gleefully waved to the few family members they could find within the sea of heads straining to look at them. The Class of ‘86 stood patiently to the side towards the back of the auditorium, waiting to be called into the main aisle where their names would be announced one by one and they’d go up the stage, accept their diploma, and go back downstairs to the rows of chairs at the front left that had been reserved for them. The full graduating class was small, no more than 40 students, and Dottie wondered how different things would have been for her if she were graduating with her New York classmates in a year that comprised around 400 kids instead of doing it in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Please, rise from your seats and join us in singing the National Anthem, followed by the Hawkins High School Spirit Song,” Higgins announced, and the sound of creaking wooden chairs filled the air as everyone followed his request.

Dottie sang along to the National Anthem without thinking too much about it, but when the first notes of the Hawkins High school song came through the speakers, she realized she had no idea what the lyrics were. No one had told her they’d be singing it during their only rehearsal, and certainly no one had spared a moment to teach it to her in the last six months. She wasn’t even sure she knew a spirit song even existed before that very moment. Eyes surveying over the crowd of family members, she saw that most if not all were singing along - the only ones not joining in were probably those who hadn’t attended Hawkins High and lived in a different town, perhaps even in a different state altogether. Heat rising up her chest under her dark green gown, she turned her head to the front, feeling very much like an outsider amongst her peers for the first time in months. Bryan Butler right behind her sang louder as the song was ending and she tried to not call attention to herself to let him take the spotlight. Once the music stopped, Principal Higgins neared the lectern to continue his speech.

“Thank you, you may be seated now,” Higgins said, and the wooden creaking resumed for a second as everyone sat back down to watch the rest of the ceremony. “The Hawkins High School Class of 1986 has experienced many memorable moments over the last four years, and Hawkins is proud of how these young graduates have worked and persevered through hard times to get to this day. We as faculty could not be prouder or more thrilled to celebrate with them, and we look forward to sending them off onto the next chapter in their lives. Parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and other family members, we are honored to have you here today as our guests to celebrate our graduates and we thank you for your support. Please clap along as the Class of 1986 proceeds to their places.”

The speakers began playing Pomp and Circumstance March No.1 in D and the crowd broke into fervent applause once more, Michael Allen leading the way for his fellow seniors to stand in the central aisle right below the middle set of stairs where they’d wait to be called to the stage. As they fell into their designated spots, Dottie finally recognized who had been assigned to stand right in front of her; it was Robin Buckley, the shy band nerd she had met at Family Video a few weeks earlier and briefly bonded with over their shared love of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. She was wearing white Converse sneakers with little drawings in blue and black ink, and the edges of her black rolled up jeans could be seen poking below her gown. She’s so cool, Dottie thought, not knowing that Robin was desperately trying not to scan the audience lest her nerves paralyzed her. Not even painting her nails bright orange had saved them from being chewed on this time around.

“Hawkins High School’s Class of 1986 was given the opportunity to choose a member of our staff to read their names as they cross the stage today,” Principal Higgins explained as three people already on stage stood from their seats. “I am honored to announce that this year, our Assistant Principal Mrs. Elaine Chandler will present the diplomas to our newest graduates. Mrs. Suzanne O’Donnell, Mr. Leopold Hauser, and myself will present them with their diploma cover, graduation medallions, and honor cords if applicable. Elaine?” he motioned for her to switch places with him.

“Thank you, Principal Higgins,” said Assistant Principal Elaine Chandler, adjusting her glasses on her nose as she looked down the list of names in front of her. “Allen, Michael,” she called first from behind the lectern, and the crowd clapped as Michael went up to her and received a hug and a rolled up certificate before moving down the stage towards the other teachers to shake their hands.

Dottie’s palms began sweating as more names kept being called and her time as a Hawkins High student slowly came to an end. Even though she had felt very much like an intruder looking in through a window during her first few months in the town, she had to admit that was happy here now - certainly much more happier than she’d ever been back in New York. Here all the teachers knew her name without having to read it from a file. Here she had a group of friends she’d go to literal Hell and back for, and she had a boyfriend who loved her the way she’d always thought love should be: easy and gentle. Here she had attended the best prom of her life, and her face would be permanently attached to a club that had given her the safety she’d never gotten anywhere else to finally, truthfully, be herself. Here Dottie had been at home.

While Barnes, Kathleen was getting her extracurricular honor cords for being part of the cheerleading team, Mrs. Chandler called upon Buckley, Robin and Dottie suddenly found herself at the front of the line. Robin climbed the steps with as much grace as she could muster while being pretty much mortified, and Mrs. Chandler soothed her with friendly pats on her back before presenting her with her diploma. The tall girl accepted it with shaky hands, her rings glinting under the stage lights, when a loud cheer rang above the polite applause of the crowd. Robin laughed, half embarrassed and half grateful, and when Dottie turned to see where the sounds were coming from, she found not only Dustin and Erica hooting and hollering besides a couple who were clearly Robin’s parents, but also that Steve guy that worked at Family Video with her, the one that Robin had described as her strictly platonic best friend with a capital P. It looked like retail did bond you forever after all.

Mr. and Mrs. Buckley looked between confused and amused as Steve pinched his bottom lip and let out a loud whistle - a chortle escaped Robin’s mouth while a cheerful Mr. Hauser, who had been her favorite teacher all four years of high school, put her graduation medallion around her neck, nerves all but forgotten before she skipped her way down to Mrs. O’Donnell to receive her extracurricular honor cords for being in band. Huh, that’s curious, Dottie thought distractedly. Didn’t know Dustin and Erica were such good friends with her and Steve. I wonder how they met.

“Burke, Dorothy,” called Mrs. Chandler through the speakers, jostling Dottie out of her musings.

This was it. The moment of truth. Dottie climbed the stairs and accepted a hug from Mrs. Chandler, hearing her friends cheering for her loudly in the background when her damp fingers came into contact with her diploma. She glanced at the crowd and time seemed to stop when her eyes found her Dad, a proud smile on his face and his program tucked under his armpit so he could clap loudly for his daughter. She waved at him and Wayne, who had also stood up to cheer for her, and time resumed after a blinding flash went off and she was whisked along to where the rest of the teachers were standing. She shook hands with both Principal Higgins and Mr. Hauser even though she hardly knew both men, and accepted her diploma cover and her graduation medallion before turning towards Mrs. O’Donnell. She was about to hug her teacher when the old woman presented her with her own honor cords, entwined green and orange ending in delicate tassels dangling from her manicured hands.

“That’s not- I’m not-” Dottie began.

“You have one of the highest GPAs in your year, besides being involved in two extracurriculars. Congratulations, Miss Burke. You’ve earned this,” O’Donnell said, and it was perhaps the only time in the whole semester Dottie had seen her genuinely smile.

“T-thank you,” she managed to get out, letting the woman drape the cords on her shoulders and rushing to her seat before she began bawling on stage.

“Hey, congrats!” Robin whispered once they were both seated next to each other, shaking her own cords lightly. The ceremony continued with no regards to their little chat.

“You too! Didn’t know I had qualified for any of this, I think everyone saw me have an aneurism up there.”

“Nah, everyone’s too nervous about not tripping down the stairs on their way back, don’t worry about it.”

“Coleman, Gareth,” Mrs. Chandler announced, grabbing Dottie’s attention.

Carver, Jason hadn’t even reached the sidestage stairs to go down after accepting his diploma when Gareth, in his haste to get everything over with, tried to climb two steps at a time and got his feet tangled in his dark green gown. Cunningham, Chrissy, who was right behind him, quickly caught his arm before he could lose balance and hit the floor. He quietly thanked her with red cheeks and embarrassed eyes before he finally went up the stairs, one step at a time. Chrissy went back to the front of the line while other classmates around Dottie and Robin snickered at the little mishap; Gareth accepted his diploma and other paraphernalia, and got the hell off the stage as quickly as humanly possible.

“Thank God that wasn’t me,” Robin muttered, and Dottie grimaced in agreement.

Gareth ended up awkwardly sitting between Jason and Chrissy, but much to his relief, they had all been assigned to the row behind Dottie. Taking advantage of the proximity, he leaned forward to talk to his friend as the ceremony progressed and Chrissy quickly joined, stopping to give Dottie a kiss on her cheek from her seat behind her as a second greeting. Jason watched the scene unfold and asked himself when had his girlfriend started hanging out with people he didn’t know. He thought he knew everything about Chrissy - when had that changed and to what extent? Selfishly, he couldn’t help but think about what the future would look like for them when they left for college. Chrissy was headed to OSU and he would be at Indiana State, almost four hours and more than 250 miles between them. Would this be their last summer together? He didn’t like to entertain that thought.

Davis, Monica, Foster, Kyle, and Hanson, Randall were some of the names they didn’t pay much attention to until Humphrey, Andrew was called to the stage. Jason distracted himself from his anxiety over his relationship possibly having an expiration date by clapping loudly for his best friend. Dottie and Gareth shared a mischievous look: Andy wasn’t wearing any bandages on his nose anymore, but the dark purple shadow under his eye was still very visible with the bright stage lights illuminating his face. After him came Hurley, Marcie, one of Dot’s colleagues from the newspaper club, and Kemper, Lucy, the girl who had sold almost everyone their prom tickets. Morgan, Theresa was on stage when Dottie realized she knew almost all the people in her graduating class by name now, even if they had never spoken to one another before. In New York, she’d never known the names of all the people within a single class, not since elementary school at least. She wondered if they remembered her, but then decided she didn’t care that the answer was probably a resounding no.

When Munson, Edward was called to the stage, Dottie and Gareth stood up to make as much noise as possible, both infinitely proud of the long haired boy with the charming eyes who was accepting the one piece of paper that had seemed so elusive all this time. Dustin and Erica hollered at him, and the rest of the Hellfire Club, still in line waiting to accept their diplomas, joined them in their antics. When Principal Higgins went in for a handshake, Eddie pulled him into a hug; the older man laughed and let it happen, a sort of fondness for the metalhead’s unwavering resilience present in their interaction. He accepted his medallion and his own honor cords for being the Chapter Leader of a student organization, and just before he climbed off, he approached the edge of the stage with a dazzling grin.

“Here it comes,” Dottie muttered, anticipating her boyfriend to give the middle finger to the entire town and bolt as he had declared he’d do on multiple occasions.

What Eddie did instead was find his Uncle in the crowd and bow deeply in his direction as people clapped for him like it was the end of a play. Wayne pretended to not be choking back tears as his nephew got off the stage, lips pursed behind his fingers trying to hide the grin threatening to break out on his face.

“Coward,” Gareth said, and Chrissy hit him in the shoulder.

There was no time for Eddie to do anything more but find his seat, because immediately after him came Patton, Jeffrey, and exactly ten names later, came Vitale, Donatello. The teachers laughed and cooed at his excited nephews jumping up and down the aisle, cheering for his favorite Uncle. One day in the not so distant future, they’d probably be handing them their diplomas too. Just how many faces in the crowd had walked through these same halls, attended the same classes, and some of them even had the same teachers as the Class of ‘86? A much younger and recently married O’Donnell, a Higgins as a History teacher prior to his Principal days, a Kaminski after his eldest son had just been born. Never before had the kids in the Hellfire Club felt as much part of the Hawkins High community as they did now - it almost felt unfair that they had to permanently leave the place to finally feel that way.

“And last, but certainly not least,” said Mrs. Chandler when there was only one person left to climb up the stage. “-Wheeler, Nancy, the valedictorian for the Class of 1986 who will say a few words for us and her fellow graduates after receiving her diploma.”

The crowd broke once again in loud applause as a red cheeked Nancy in her dark green gown and bright orange valedictorian stole greeted all her teachers with a few flashcards containing her speech in her hand. Karen Wheeler looked at her daughter with shiny eyes, infinitely proud of her little girl that’d grown into a smart, capable woman right in front of her. In a few months she’d be far away, following her dreams, and taking a piece of her mother’s hopes with her as she did so, but none of her fears. Holly raised her arms, silently asking to be lifted up so she could see better, and Karen picked up her youngest daughter, pointing at her big sister in the distance so she could wave at her. Nancy took her place behind the lectern and looked at the audience, a carefully put together mask over bittersweet eyes that Dottie had almost become used to seeing on her friend. If she stared into a mirror too deeply, she could recognize the dents in her skin of her own mask, now laying shattered at her feet.

“Honorable guests, Principal Higgins, Hawkins High School faculty, academic and supporting staff, friends, families, and graduates - good morning,”  Nancy began, voice soft but pleasantly clear. “It is with great pride that I stand here before you on such a special occasion to deliver this speech, which I promise I’ll try to keep short and sweet,” she lightheartedly smiled at her audience before she grew solemn once more. “However, before I start, I would like to ask you to join me in a moment of silence to commemorate the students and family members who could not be here today with us, and to remember the victims of the Starcourt Mall Fire on July 4th, 1985.”

Not a sound could be heard for a few heartbeats, and Dottie watched the faces of the town she’d come to love morph from amused to weary. There was real mourning here, a deep gash left open in a community that couldn’t heal properly because some wounds were just too deep to scab over. Eddie had told her everything he knew about what had happened, the official story everyone that hadn’t been involved in the tragedy repeated when asked, and her heart constricted when she saw Dustin and Erica in their seats with their heads down. They looked downright haunted. Steve sat next to them, watching over them with such turmoil in his eyes that Dottie had to wonder if there was something they were all missing about what happened. Had Steve also been in the mall with them? Had Robin, who was quietly sitting next to her like she was reliving a horror movie behind her eyes, her fingers absentmindedly tangling and untangling themselves in her honor cords?

Karen, sitting next to her unaware husband and emotionally closed off son, took a few deep breaths to keep her tears at bay and gently kissed Holly’s head before shifting her baby on her lap to hold her against her chest more tightly, like someone could snatch her off her arms at any given moment. Dottie twisted her mom’s engagement ring on her left middle finger and bit the inside of her cheek while blinking away the wetness gathering on her lash line. Not now, she scolded herself. Later.

“Thank you,” Nancy said, breaking the silence and moving onto her next flashcard. “Four years ago, we arrived at Hawkins High as children, and we are now leaving as young adults with our whole lives ahead of us. Some will go on to college, others will enter the workforce, but all of us will take the lessons learned here and let them guide us to become who we were always meant to be,” she turned to look to her side. “I'd like to thank our teachers for sharing their knowledge with us, for being patient and pushing us to achieve great things. With their help, our Hawkins High Mathletes reached their first ever state finals and brought home the silver medal earlier this year.”

There was a loud cheer coming from somewhere in the auditorium that sounded very much like Rick Stewart, exiting Captain of the Hawkins High Mathletes. Some people laughed goodnaturedly and joined in, the teachers clapping proudly at their labor being recognized. Nancy smiled and continued, knowing the applause would only get louder as she read the next part of her speech.

“I'd like to thank our coaches and counselors for making school more than just homework. You taught us about discipline, teamwork, and integrity, which led our basketball team to win the 1A North Central Conference Championship for the first time in 22 years,” the applause that followed was deafening, and it took several minutes for it to die down before Nancy could keep going. “I'd like to thank our families for supporting us in more ways that we could ever count, for chaperoning our dances and field trips, cheering for us at our sporting events, and attending all our plays with so much love and commitment, that our Drama Club was able to extend their winter run of West Side Story with a packed audience every night until their closure.”

The cheers this time were much more subdued, yet polite and sustained enough to not be embarrassing to the Drama Club members and their families in the audience. It was clear, however, where the town’s loyalties stood: Indiana’s love for basketball was known throughout the country, and Hawkins wasn’t the exception to the rule. Nancy looked at her graduating class and grabbed the last two flashcards in her pile.

“No one achieves success alone, and we are truly grateful for the help and guidance we’ve received during our years as Hawkins Tigers. However, if my classmates indulge me for a second, I’d like to ask each of you to think about a moment where you felt proud of yourself. Think about the things you’ve accomplished here, and the challenges you’ve overcome. A great woman by the name of Eleanor Roosevelt once wrote, you gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do. Our time as Hawkins High School students has come to an end. We did it, Class of ‘86. We did the thing we thought we couldn’t do, and we’ve learned that we can take the next thing that comes along, so keep moving forward. I’m proud of you, and I hope you are too. Thank you, and congratulations to us all.”

Dottie followed Nancy with her eyes as she shook Principal Higgins’ hand once more and left the stage towards her seat. Her hands were shaking lightly, and her lips were pursed, but she almost looked lighter, like she’d left significant weight behind that had nothing to do with public speaking related nerves. Nancy’s speech had been beautiful, there were no doubts about that, but it was strange to think about someone like her looking at her high school years as something that had been horrific to live through. She was popular enough to not have been bullied, pretty enough to have been desired and looked up to, smart and well-off enough to never have to worry about not fitting in.

High school was certainly hard for almost everyone, but the way Nancy had spoken about it left a familiar bitter taste in Dottie’s mouth. If Eddie had been right when retelling her the town’s recent strange happenings, Nancy had probably been thinking about her friend Barb when writing her speech. She would have most likely graduated alongside her, maybe she’d be headed to a nearby college where the two girls could still see each other often, or to a completely different one across the country and they’d have to call every weekend with updates on their new lives. Holland, Barbara should have been called up to the stage between Hall, Suzanne and Humphrey, Andrew, but now she was just another name added to the always-growing list of people who ought to have been there, but ultimately couldn’t be.

“Thank you for that inspiring speech, Miss Wheeler,” said Principal Higgins, returning to his place behind the lectern to close out the ceremony. “Graduating is an amazing achievement for these students, and we here at Hawkins High are excited to see the things they’ll accomplish in the future. By the authority vested in me by the Governor of the State of Indiana, Mr. Robert D. Orr, I confer the appropriate diplomas for the Class of 1986. Graduates, please move your tassels to the left,” he smiled at his now former students. “Congratulations Tigers, you can now throw your hats!”

As they had been instructed during rehearsals, they threw their hats directly above them, not wanting to lose them on the way down before they could take pictures with them but in the excitement and elation of the graduates, some caps ended up on the floor, prompting kids to search for the lost items under their chairs while their classmates cheered above them and congratulated one another. Dottie hugged Robin again while Principal Higgins said his goodbyes through the loudspeaker without anyone really hearing him, families eager to leave the auditorium and get into their cars quickly to avoid the inevitable bottleneck at the entrance of the parking lot.

“Thank you all for coming and being part of this special moment,” Higgins said, voice ringing above the loud chatter and scraping of chairs. “Please drive safe and have a good weekend!”

“Dad!” Dottie called upon seeing James talking to Gareth’s family near their cars. He waved at her in acknowledgment and she turned to her friend to say her goodbyes. “I’ll call you as soon as I have my new schedule down, okay? We can go to the movies some day!”

“I’m gonna go see family up North next week, but I’ll call you when I get back,” Chrissy said, arm still tangled with hers. “We have to go see the new Karate Kid coming out soon, Ralph Macchio is so cute.”

“I’m not even gonna correct you on that because I do wanna see it with you, but just know I think you’re crazy,” the brunette said, laughing at her friend.

“Well, excuse me, bad boys aren’t everyone’s type,” the blonde retorted, a secretive grin gracing her fairy-like features before she pulled her into a goodbye hug. “I’m gonna miss you!”

“We’ll see each other soon! You go have a great trip, forget about this boring town for a while.”

After the girls said their goodbyes and went in separate directions, Dottie watched Chrissy greet her family with curious eyes. She didn’t know much about the Cunninghams and was surprised to see that her newest and most unlikely friend had a little brother she had never mentioned before. He must have not been the right age to be in high school yet or he’d probably be under Jason’s overprotective wing, especially if he was athletic like his big sister.

Chrissy might have looked small and dainty, but there was a certain fierceness cheerleaders had in their step - their aura had been painstakingly trained to command a room and demand attention. And yet, Dottie noticed that as Chrissy turned from her unassuming Dad to her elegant Mother, the brightness she radiated seemed to dim ever so slightly, even if her charming smile stayed in place.

“There you are! I was looking for you everywhere,” James exclaimed, her thoughts instantly lost to the wind. “Congratulations, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Dottie melted into his hug, knocking her cap even more askew with his shoulder. “They gave me honor cords, did you see? I didn’t know I had earned them!”

“I’m seeing them now! You worked so hard, good job.”

“Congratulations, sweetie!” Lydia, Gareth’s mom, said, pulling her into a hug. “Have you met Gretchen yet? Gare’s big sister?”

“Hey, congrats,” Gretchen said with a polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, hi! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” Gretchen said, eyes sparkling with mischief as she saw Gareth approach with two more kids toddling behind him. “I’m always really curious to meet any girl who would even talk to my brother in the first place, but you seem normal enough.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Gareth said, and Erica snickered.

“Honestly, he’s lucky we’re nice to him,” the middle-grader joined in, making Gareth groan in annoyance.

“You’re my friend, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Congrats, Dot!” Dustin said, hugging the older girl from her right side, prompting Erica to cuddle up to her on the left. “We’re super proud of you.”

“Aw, Dus,” she pouted, leaning her head on his. He really was like the little brother she’d always wanted and never had. “Thank you, you’re so sweet. I’m happy you two could be here!”

“It was fun! We enjoyed it.”

“I saw you guys with that Steve guy earlier, did you come with him?”

“You know Steve?” Dustin said, curious.

“Yeah, he works at Family Video with Robin!” Dottie said.

“You know Robin?” it was Erica’s turn to ask.

“Uh, yeah, we’re classmates? She was sitting next to me throughout the ceremony- wait, how do you know them? What am I missing here?”

“Nothing! Steve’s, uh- Steve’s our babysitter!” Dustin hurried to say. “Did you know he used to date Nancy a while ago? That’s how we met, through Nancy. And we know Robin through Steve. Hawkins is a very small place.”

“W-what? Nancy and…”

“Yeah, she dumped him in front of everyone at a party and he’s been all mopey and sad since then,” Erica said, prompting Dustin to elbow her. “What? Just the facts!”

“Uh…,” Dottie looked at Gareth, dumbfounded.

“Anyway,” Dustin continued, aware that multiple eyes were on him. “He’s our babysitter.”

“Dustin, you’re fifteen,” Gareth laughed. “You’re a little old to still have a babysitter.”

“My Mom’s protective of me, okay? I’m an only child.”

“And he’s a good babysitter?” Dottie asked, amused.

“The best. Steve’s… yeah, Steve’s great. More like an older brother figure than a babysitter,” Dustin smiled, clearly fond of the older boy. “You should hang out with him, I think you’d like each other.”

“Stop. Just stop,” said Erica, knowing where Dustin was headed.

“What?” he shrugged, feigning innocence.

“Alright, let’s take some pictures!” said Lydia, not having paid any attention to the kids’ conversation.

While they were in the middle of taking photos, the remaining Hellfire Class of ‘86 joined the group with their respective families. Eddie snuck up behind Dottie while she was distracted taking a picture with Jeff and picked her up, arms encircling her middle and spinning her around while she giggled unabashedly, hands coming to rest on his forearms when he put her down but didn’t let go. Wayne had to hide a chuckle while he talked to the other parents; his nephew really wasn’t as smooth and mysterious as he thought he was, and Wayne had been around the sun too many times to not recognize what he was seeing between Eddie and his little lady friend. Gretchen, in turn, looked at Donny and lifted an eyebrow at him quizzically.

“What have I missed?” she quietly said, a smirk lifting the corner of her lips. She’d always liked Donny the best out of all his brother’s friends, and was aware that as much of a good confidant as he was, he never shied away from gossip.

“He said he wanted to wait until after graduation to ask her out so I don’t think anything has happened yet,” Donny muttered back, crossing his arms and leaning closer to her friend’s big sister. “They’re totally gone for each other, though.”

“You don’t say,” Gretchen said and turned to Erica who looked very interested in their conversation. “What do you think?”

“I think he’s too chicken to ask her out,” Erica laughed. “But they have been looking really cozy lately. That’s suspicious.”

“Eddie knows she’s into him,” Donny said, making Erica’s eyes widen. “Forgot to tell you about that.”

“You bastard, I thought we had a good thing going and you’re withholding information from me? Nuh-uh, this is betrayal. I want reparations.”

“Oh, she’s feisty,” Gretchen said.

“Come to the restaurant this weekend, I’ll give you ice cream and we can catch up and compare notes,” Donny offered, genuinely interested in keeping his friendship with the fiery younger girl intact. “But it has to be this weekend, Dot starts working with us on Monday.”

“How big is that ice cream?”

“Big as you want.”

“Deal,” she put out her hand for them to shake on it, but it was merely a formality - Donatello Vitale had no intentions of ever crossing the one and only Erica Sinclair again.

As families began saying their goodbyes and heading to their cars, it soon became clear that Eddie and Dottie did not want the festivities to end so fast. They’d already taken multiple photos with everyone and with each other, waved Dustin and Erica off as they climbed into Steve’s red BMW, and even said hello to the Wheelers, but they would just not leave each other’s side, always fluttering around one another no matter what was happening. If James thought anything strange about it, he didn’t mention it, but as Wayne looked at his nephew’s beaming smile, he realized he didn’t have the heart to cut his happiness short when there was such an easy solution to their problem.

“You two have any plans for lunch?” Wayne asked James, finishing up another smoke.

“Not really, no. I was thinking of picking up some burgers to celebrate. Why? You have any suggestions?”

“Well, me an’ Eddie like to go to the diner down on Randolph on special occasions. Thought you might want to join us,” he smiled at the kids who were now both staring at him expectantly.

“Can we go, Dad?” Dottie asked with hopeful eyes. “They have crinkle fries - you love crinkle fries!”

“That’s really kind of you, Wayne, but we don’t want to intrude,” James was saying, but Eddie hurried forward.

“You wouldn’t be intruding, sir. We both graduated today, we can celebrate together!”

“Come on, Dad, they wouldn’t ask if they didn’t want us there.”

Both older men looked at each other with knowing eyes and James sighed theatrically before conceding, his daughter cheering happily at the new impromptu plans. The teens quickly headed in the direction of their cars deep in their own happy little world; their parents amusedly looked as Eddie opened her door for her and helped her in while they talked about burger combinations and debated about their orders.

“Meet you there?” James asked Wayne, also getting into his car.

“You bet. Come on, boy, quit the yappin’. You’ll see her again in ten minutes, she’s not gonna run away from you!”

“Jesus Christ, Wayne!”

Eddie and Dottie had already been to the diner down on Randolph a few times; some of them before they’d begun dating and once after, but never with their parental figures as unofficial chaperones. The booth at the back they loved to sit at was occupied, so they chose a table near the front instead - the diner was bustling with energy as multiple families had had the same idea as them and got a headstart on their kids’ summer holidays. Eddie helped Dottie with her chair, thoroughly enjoying how shy she’d get whenever he did something remotely gentleman-like, and plonked himself next to her, quickly engaging in conversation about the menu she was holding. James had no option but to sit in front of his daughter as Wayne took the seat in front of Eddie, both of them also busying themselves with their own menus.

The teens tried to act normal in front of their elders, they really did, but it was such a lovely day, and they were celebrating one of the biggest achievements in their short lives that it was as if they’d forgotten that friends didn’t usually look so smitten with one another. Wayne took little peeks at them over the bright laminated piece of paper in his hands, catching how Eddie was stroking the side of her arm resting on the table with his pinky finger while she talked; he loudly coughed when James put his menu down and took his reading glasses off, the unexpected sound making them jump and separate instantly just in time for him not to see them. A young and friendly looking waitress approached their table, pad of paper and pen in her hand.

“Hi! Are you ready for me to take your order or are we waiting for the wives to arrive?” she said with a perfect customer-service smile. Dottie blinked up at her twice, her face morphing into a blank expression.

“No, thank you, it’s just gonna be us four today,” James said politely.

Today, he’d said. Like Margaret and Maureen were off doing other things, like working or shopping or attending a jazzercise class, and couldn’t join them for lunch but they’d probably be around later. Like they weren’t gone forever. Like they were still alive. Nancy’s speech rattled around in Dottie’s brain, her eyes glazing over and her ears filling with invisible cotton. James and Wayne ordered their food, and Eddie ordered for both himself and her, very much aware that something was bothering her. Her sight was stuck to her Dad’s hand resting on the cheap laminate tabletop. The gold band that had been there on his finger since Margaret and him had said I do all those years ago taunted her, glinting under the fluorescent lights of the diner. They’d promised each other forever, and what did they get? What did she get?

“Dot,” Eddie muttered, hand sneaking down the table to settle on the exposed skin of her knee. “Darling, can you hear me?”

“Huh?” she turned to look at him in a daze.

Behind him, there was a table where a family sat: a father, a mother and a daughter, barely older than she’d been when she’d lost the most important woman in her life. The baby gurgled in her Mom’s arms, and the woman cooed at her, noses nuzzling against each other’s. Dottie turned her head towards the other side of the diner where a mother was cleaning up a little boy’s face, chocolate staining his chubby cheeks.

She had just graduated from high school and her mother wasn’t there. She hadn’t been there when she got her first period, during her first heartbreak, or when she won a spelling bee at age seven. She wouldn’t be there when she graduated college, when she got her first job, when she got married to the boy who was holding onto her leg with worried eyes. She would never be there, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. It was always going to be just them.

“Honey, are you okay?” James asked, leaning forward.

“I-I’m sorry,” she managed to get out before she stood up and bolted outside and into the parking lot, her chair scraping against the floor in her haste to get out of the diner.

“I’ve got it, sir,” Eddie said before he sped after her, his chains rattling with every long step he took to catch up with her.

In silence, James and Wayne watched their kids through the huge windows next to their table. When Dottie saw Eddie running behind her, she turned her back on him, hugging herself as she tried to keep her emotions together. She lifted a hand to wave at him over her shoulder and said something - probably that she was okay, that she didn’t need help so he should go back in - but as he came closer, it was evident that the storm that had been brewing inside her all morning was on the brink of overtaking her. All it took was feeling his hand hovering on her shoulder for her knees to buckle as she folded onto herself, Eddie instantly rushing forward to catch her and pulling her into his chest, her back rising up and down violently as she sobbed into his graduation gown. He chewed on his lower lip as he held himself together, never one to cry in public where people could see him and judge him for it. He muttered something into her hair, his chin resting onto the crown of her head, gently rocking her side to side as her sobs subsided.

“She was really lonely until we came here, y’know,” James said, breaking the quiet that had fallen on their table. Wayne could only look at his nephew, the gentleness he’d always known he’d possessed perfectly on display. “All her new friends are great to her but Eddie… you’ve got a good boy there, Wayne.”

“They’re both good kids,” Wayne said, matter-of-factly. “It’s a damn shame they’re so young and been through so much already.”

“Yeah, it is.”

In the parking lot, unaware that they were being watched, Dottie lifted her head from Eddie’s chest, an embarrassed smile on her lips as she fanned her face with her hands in an attempt to dry her tears without ruining what was left of her mascara. Eddie, still holding onto her, blew on her cheeks; she laughed, heart feeling equally heavy and light at the same time. There was joy and levity to be found in shared grief, that was something new she had learned from him.

“Sometimes I feel like Eddie understands her better than I do,” James admitted, fingers toying with his wedding band.

“They understand each other in ways that you and I never will,” Wayne mused. “That ain’t a bad thing. Actually, I think it might be healthy.”

“Mhm,” James agreed, half lost in his own thoughts.

Dottie squeezed Eddie one last time like she was mentally preparing herself, gathering strength for whatever came next, and nodded once to let him know that it was okay to let her go. Eddie followed her inside quietly, holding the door open for her as they filed in and sat once again at their table. They both looked very tired, and perhaps even a little bit flustered at having to face their guardians after bolting out of the diner so unexpectedly. Dottie leaned forward to grab a napkin to blow her nose.

“M’sorry,” she said, eyes low. James grabbed her hand gently.

“You okay, honey?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. S’just a lot, you know?”

“I know,” her Dad said, watching her glance at Eddie next to her.

“Can I… is it okay if Eddie and I go to the lake after lunch?” she asked, shy. “We want to burn some cards.”

“Yeah, of course,” James said, knot tightening at the base of his throat and fingers tangling with his daughter’s.

Eddie was silent through the entire interaction, hands hellbent on shredding the paper napkin in front of him to minuscule pieces. Wayne could feel their table shake as he bounced his leg frantically, something he had long understood as his nephew’s tell when holding back tears. The waitress, unaware of what had just transpired, came back at that moment with their drinks and two milkshakes for the teens. Dottie smiled at them with wet eyes, and Eddie had the indecency to look sheepish: she hadn’t mentioned to him she wanted one, but he knew she loved strawberry milkshakes from this specific diner because they made them with real strawberry ice cream and not the powder. He must have ordered them when she blanked out. The simple gesture felt like balm for her anguished soul.

“Well, I’d like to propose a toast,” Wayne said, dissipating the remaining uncomfortable tension at their table. “To the Class of ‘86.”

“To the Class of ‘86,” James joined him, clicking their bottles of Coke together in the air.

Food arrived shortly after, and as an easy conversation sanded whatever edges were still sharp for the moment, Wayne observed the tender behavior of the kids sitting in front of him. It wasn’t as playful as it had been before, no, this felt much more… intimate. Considerate. Muted, yet still softhearted. Not missing a beat in the story she was telling to her Dad, Dottie grabbed the cherry on top of her milkshake and left it on top of Eddie’s. He gave her a toothy grin before popping it into his mouth, and she shook her head at him fondly. Yeah, this ain’t a bad thing at all, thought Wayne, taking a bite out of his food and laughing along with James at the ridiculous gossip Dottie and Eddie were sharing about their now former classmates.

“Okay, hold on a second before you run off,” Wayne said, as his nephew ushered his friend towards his van.

After lunch was done, it was decided that Wayne would drive Eddie and Dottie back to their trailer so they could get Eddie’s van and head to the lake for what they were calling The Card Ritual. The eldest Munson didn’t really understand what it meant, but it seemed that James knew what they were talking about so he didn’t ask too many questions about it - all he knew was that the kids were going to buy some cards at Melvald’s and then burn them, and that Dottie was emotional over the whole thing. If burning some paper brought peace to her heart, then who was Wayne to judge? He’d indulged in far more destructive coping mechanisms throughout his youth, evidenced by his unshakeable smoking habit.

After they’d said goodbye to James, they climbed into Wayne’s truck and headed to Forest Hills, graduation caps, gowns, and his suit jacket now discarded into the backseat. The heat kept rising in the early afternoon and Wayne just wanted to get out of his clothes, drink a glass of icy cold water, and take a nap in his undergarments next to his trusty fan, but he felt like there was a pressing conversation to be had before he went in and could finally relax on his day off.

“What’s up?” Eddie asked, Dottie coming to a stop next to him.

“I just gotta know, kid,” Wayne turned to her. “Does your Dad know about you two or do I have to play dumb with him?”

“W-what? What do you mean?” she asked, nervously.

“I may not be young, but I ain’t blind, sweetheart,” he smiled. “You’re not in trouble, I just wanna know how to act around your old man, that’s all.”

“He doesn’t know,” Eddie muttered, grabbing Dottie’s hand and surprising her with how quickly he confessed. “No one knows, we haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Except Chrissy,” Dottie said.

“Except Chrissy,” he conceded. “She knows because I asked her for advice, but she’s the only one.”

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long has this been going on?” Wayne asked, pulling his lighter out of his pocket.

“Uh, like two weeks? We’re not, like- we’re not official yet,” Eddie scratched his neck uncomfortably.

“Not offi- Edward,” his Uncle hardened his stare. “I taught you better than that.”

“Shit, I swear I was gonna do it today! Wanted to wait until after graduation, I’m not trying to be a flake-”

“It’s okay! We talked about it,” Dottie said, hanging onto his arm. “I don’t mind waiting, we just thought it’d be best to keep it a secret for now,” Wayne turned to look at her, wary. “Mr. Wayne, please, I’d announce it at the next Town Hall meeting if he’d let me.”

“We share all the same friends,” Eddie explained. “They’ll wanna know all the details, and I just- she breaks up with me and I’m the biggest loser in Hawkins, you know how those assholes are.”

“Oh my god, stop calling yourself a loser!” she whined.

“Don’t break up with me, and I won’t be!” he argued back, but it was clear he was being silly about it.

“Okay, so what’s the situation here? You two dating or not?” Wayne asked, getting back on topic.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, smiling down at her with hearts in his eyes. “We’re dating. I was gonna ask her to be my girlfriend officially later today but I might as well do it now since you’re so nosy.”

“It’s not like anything’s changing anyways,” Dottie said. “We just didn’t put a label on it, but I’ve kinda been his girlfriend since that party we went to a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hell yeah you are. And I’m your boyfriend, right?”

“No, you’re my private driver,” she deadpanned. “Of course you are, Eddie, what kind of question is that?”

“Just making sure, darling,” Eddie said, and Wayne snorted at how smug his nephew looked.

“Well, then… you two can go now, I guess. I’ll keep the secret.”

“Thanks, Mr. Wayne,” Dottie said, coming to hug him. “We’ll tell people soon, we just want a little bit of privacy for now. The guys can be so nosy sometimes.”

“Don’t I know that, kid,” he chuckled. “I’m real happy for you two.”

“I’m really happy too,” she whispered to him, a bashful smile on her face.

Eddie finally let her into his van, her white sundress and summery sandals a stark contrast against his ripped jeans and chains. They were an odd couple if one only looked at their clothes, but it was so clear that they vibrated at the same frequency that Wayne couldn’t help but think that he should have expected this development sooner. He didn’t know why he’d chosen to believe them when they’d said nothing had happened between them the night of the party. His nephew went towards the driver’s seat when he called to him again.

“Ed, a word,” he was dead serious as Eddie jogged to where he was standing.

“Yeah?”

“You treat that girl right, okay?” Wayne said, voice low so she wouldn’t hear from the van. “I don’t wanna hear shit from her Dad about you bein’ stupid with her.”

“I know.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna fuck this up, Wayne. I love her,” Eddie told him, so sure of what he was saying that it knocked the wind out of his Uncle’s lungs for a bit.

“Love, huh?” Wayne laughed softly, and Eddie shrugged with red ears but looked so very happy. “Go, have fun. And take care of her.”

“I will,” he nodded.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Wayne said, ruffling his hair roughly like when he was just a boy barely taller than his own hip. “And your Momma would be too.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, eyes full of unshed tears. “I’m proud of me too.”

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

[wetcatspellcaster]

oooooh since you said we could, tell us about your rook ideas please! (also sending you all the love on your thesis things coming up!)

sorry for the delay in replying, i'm a bit busy rn between work and thesis!!! (so thank u for the love).

I fought off a concrete idea for Rook for the longest time, bc I didn't want the game to disappoint me for things i'd invented inside my own brain, but I think I know now what my first playthrough character will be! :)

Vittoria de Riva (mage antivan crow, bc that armour slaps so hard and I thought the crows would be class-specific), alias and clearly-made-up name for Victoire du Lac (even though Riva means 'shore', not 'water'/'river' etc. she's just that dumb).

She's a former Orlesian circle mage who ran away as a teen when the circle mages were freed during Inquisition, before the college system was introduced. She is a mage who has both profited from and 'hidden' her powers by 'disguising them' as highly skilled assassinations (the level of success with which her powers have remained hidden is up for debate, and certain people have debated about informing her that the Crows allow mages to join)

All i know about her is she's purple personalitied, and she's going to sleep with as many companions as possible. too many of my OCs have been nervous and repressed, time to play a hot dumb bitch with a compulsive lying and compulsive can't-keep-her-mouth-shut problem

[heavenisaplaceonearth-with-you]

just realized i never posted this mini rant about the vs show:

look ik everyone's saying it wasn't as good but i think it was good. there were only three things that ruined everything:

THE STAGE. tell me WHY the audience was literally on the catwalk. i get the concept but i feel like an elevated stage with lights on the side used to do so so much

THE HAIR. all i want in life is bombshell hair and they didn't give bombshell hair. it's just disrespect to put adriana in a ponytail like that. the most beautiful woman in the world and they didn't bother to give her iconic bombshell hair? please. bare minimum. you should be lucky she even looks at you guys.

you know how there used to be like the narration and the behind the scenes? that was huge for the show's overall success and aesthetic. seeing the girls getting ready and panicking and all the work that went into the show THAT'S WHAT I WANT it makes it into a movie-like thing with a whole storyline. here it didn't feel like there was a storyline.

otherwise everything else was a slay especially the casting. it literally felt like the avengers assembling like WDYM VITTORIA IMAAN BARBARA GIGI BELLA ADRIANA CANDACE ALL IN ONE SHOW WDYMMMM THAT'S THE STUFF OF LEGENDS

anyway there's a slightly overdue rant.

[litnerdwrites]

Day three already? Time sure does fly. I feel like the last two were pretty emotionally heavy, so have something fluffy for now. I loved TOTF btw, so let me know what y'all thought of it, if you read it, or if it's on your tbr! It definitely gave me a new appreciation for Envy. @princeofsinweek

Day 3: Evy/Games and Riddles

Present - Envy X Wife!Reader

WC:1,676

TW: Mention of sex but no smut.

Envy, I have been taken. If you ever want to seem alive again, come to The Malice Isles at Midnight.  Just kidding!  I’m alive. But do come and find me, okay?  Start by looking above for something precious to us. Good luck Hubby! Love ya <3 - xo xo A

Envy read the note through twice, brows twitching, before crumpling the note in his hand. He’d been searching for his wife from the moment he’d returned from House Greed, only to find that none of his demons had any inkling as to where she was, and all that was left in his office was a faux ransom note. His heart still hadn’t stopped racing from the moment he saw it lodged into his office chair with an arrow, and he’d read the first two lines and almost ordered Alexi to prepare for war. 

Leaving the note on his desk, envy huffed and stalked out of the door, heading towards their shared chambers. He stalks right to the bed, and examines an oil painting hanging above the headboard. It was of the two of them, dancing at the last Feast of the Wolf. The memory of Adalyn’s hunter green gown gliding across the marble floors of House Pride still set Envy’s heart stuttering. Peeking out from one of the corners was another slip of paper. Envy rolled his eyes at how predictable his little pet was, as he unfolded the paper. 

I can already feel you rolling your eyes at me. Was it really that easy? Stupid question, I know. But let’s pretend it wasn’t, yeah? Perfect! You’re the best, hubby!  Your next clue will be somewhere important. A place that no other dares to approach without permission. Aside from me, of course. I love lounging around there, especially when you give me ‘the look’ look when you tell me to get off. You know, the one that lets me know you’re about to punish me? I love that look! I hope to see it again soon. Love you! <3 - Kisses, A

Envy resists the urge to roll his eyes, especially given that this particular clue had taken him a moment or two to decipher. With some quick transversa magic, he found himself in the throne room of his House of Sin. He examined the seat carefully, this time not seeing the clue right away. Upon a closer examination, he found it tucked into the cushion of his seat. 

Well done Hubby, I knew you could find it! Did I hide it well this time, or was it still too easy for you? Either way, the next clue should be a bit more tricky.  It’s in a room with a maiden, cold and alone. Be careful when getting this one, love. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself. It’d make me sad if you did. <3 - Best of luck, A

The last bit of the note somehow warmed Envy’s icy heart more than his pet already had. He had to admit, she was somewhat adorable. He began thinking over where the next clue might be. The first thought that came to mind was Vittoria, being so cold, and living alone at House Vengeance. He banished that thought as soon as it arrived. His love wouldn’t do that to him. That, he knew for certain. 

Perhaps Adalyn meant it in a more literal sense? Maiden, and a warning to not get hurt? The Iron maiden perhaps? In their new Iron exhibition? 

Envy was gone again, this time heading towards the iron maiden, and throwing it open. A tiny slip of parchment fell out, and he practically lunged for it. After spending a week at Greed's House, helping deal with some renegade witches, and while he couldn’t tell if he found this game of her’s to be infuriating or entertaining, he knew he was ready to find her, and had a long, long, list of things he’d do to her when he did. 

I bet this one took a bit longer to find, didn’t it? I dare say that I’m getting good at this, right Hubby? And don’t give me that look that I know you’re giving the note! I am getting better at it! Well, the last one will be the trickiest, so be prepared! Muahahaha!  Well, this is your final clue, so rejoice. I’m waiting for you at my favorite place. Can’t wait to see you! Hugs! <3 - Forever yours, A

Envy grinned, and immediately took off, spreading his wings and shooting through the doors of a nearby balcony. He soared high above his house of sin, heading towards one of the large gardens. He lands right in the center of a hedge maze. Retracting his wings, he doesn’t bother to hide the wicked expression on his face as he looks around. His Adalyn loved coming here, to the center of the maze, sometimes to explore, and sometimes to read. Even in his court, there were few who could find their way through the enchanted maze, especially given its ever changing nature, so, while he’d never admit it to his brother, it filled him with pride that his wife did so on a regular basis. 

Envy circled the clearing in the center like a predator, searching for signs of his wife. Only for the hunger that painted his face a moment before to falter, as he realizes that she isn’t there.

Envy frown, giving the surrounding area one last once over, making sure he didn’t miss something. There wasn’t.

I bet this one took a bit longer to find, didn’t it? I dare say that I’m getting good at this, right Hubby? And don’t give me that look that I know you’re giving the note! I am getting better at it! Well, the last one will be the trickiest, so be prepared! Muahahaha!  Well, this is your final clue, so rejoice. I’m waiting for you at my favorite place. Can’t wait to see you! Hugs! <3 - Forever yours, A

Her favorite place… If not the maze, where she spent most of her time… then where? 

The throne room? He was just there. 

That cafe on The Shifting Isles? Maybe. 

House Sloth? She knows he’d probably declare war on his brother if he were there. 

I’m waiting for you at my favorite place. Can’t wait to see you! Hugs! 

Envy’s eyes widen as he finally realizes. 

I’m waiting for you at my favorite place. Can’t wait to see you! Hugs!   Hugs! 

Envy grins, taking off again, this time heading to their receiving room. The antechamber of their room had undergone renovations just a few months back, but there was only one thing Adalyn had insisted on. Envy had rolled his eyes at the time, but over the past year, he learned just how much Adalyn adored the edition.

He quickly uses magic to get there, only to freeze in the doorway. 

Adalyn lounges amongst hunter green silks, clad in a silver slip that hugged every curve, stopping mid thigh, with a scandalous little slit in the side. Her eyes twinkle as her gaze moves from the book in her hand to the doorway, and she gives a little grin. 

The little vixen gives a wide smile, stretching her legs along the daybed. The one she had insisted on, claiming that a large one would be the perfect place for ‘hugs and cuddles’. 

Sometimes Envy forgets how much she loves simpler things, like cuddling, as much as sex and dates. Sometimes, even more than sex and dates. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Envy asks.

“Very much, my love. And you? Did you enjoy yourself?” 

“I spent the last hour running all over the place, searching for my wife, when all I wanted was to fuck her into next week, after being away for so long,” Envy retorts, coming to sit on the edge of the daybed. 

Adalyn grins, putting the book away. 

“Well, your wife was lonely without you, and decided to teach a lesson about leaving her for so long,” she tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, pouting up at him. 

“My mistake, pet. Your husband is sure to think twice before he leaves you alone for so long again,” 

“As he should,” she nods, “And as a reward for being so agreeable, I shall give you your gift now,” 

“Gift?” Envy cocks a brow. 

Adalyn grins, taking out a wrapped box and handing it to him. Envy unwraps it, pausing every now and then to glance at Adalyn, clocking the cheeky grin on her face. Once he sees what’s inside, however, he drops the wrapping. 

Envy holds up the frame, examining the oil painting closely, taking in every detail. There he stood, in one of the most lavish, hunter green suits he’d ever worn, accented with silver, his hands gripping Adalyn’s tightly. Her own gown was silver, but was bejeweled with thousands, if not millions, of tiny crystals, with hunter green flowers and appliques. The ribbon connecting them was black, with a wolf’s face pattern on it, and he remembered how she had painstakingly spent months embroidering it herself.

“This is-” 

“Happy anniversary,” Adalyn smiles. “I wanted there to be a special way for me to give this to you, and I know how much you love games, so I figured it would be perfect,” 

Envy places the painting down, before pulling her in by the hips. He presses a deep kiss to her lips, keeping his arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace. Adalyn let out a surprised humph, but otherwise leaned into it, even as Envy gently pushed her down onto the bed. While he wasn’t gentle often, this gift warmed his heart. He had every intention of thanking his wife for it, the best way he knew how. 

“It is perfect. Allow me show my appreciation for it, and for you, my love, in a way that will make you feel as warm as I do,” 

Adalyn smiled and nodded, cheeks flushed.

“Then show me,” 

That was all Envy needed.